#take me down easy plays on the loud speaker

[humanfleshfairie]

I can rest peacefully now 😌

[heehoonieluvs]

Work up a sweat

Sunghoon x reader

Smut

The way that the members are depicted in this story has nothing to do with how they really are or how I feel they are. It is all solely for the storyline so please bear that in mind 🫶

Summary: Your friends got a free tryout with a personal trainer at the gym that they just started at. The handsome PT was VERY hands on with his work and let’s just say, he could make your legs shake from more than just exercising

Warnings: MDNI, Y/N’s friends are low-key pick me’s 🙃, cursing, french kissing, exhibition?, dry humping, oral (f & m receiving), 69, unprotected sex, ass play (f receiving), squirting, use of pet names, just straight up porn (please do let me know if I need to add more warnings 🤍)

Series masterlist

Masterlist

You don’t know what came over you when you agreed to join your friends Amy and Lily for a free tryout with a personal trainer. There was a moment before you all got ready to leave where you considered dropping out, but it would’ve be almost impossible to considering that your friends had been pestering you about doing it for weeks. And also, you didn’t have to pay for this one time session so what’s the harm?

At the moment, you were all waiting for your PT to show up so Amy suggested to warm up on the treadmill for a few minutes. The two of them were busy checking their reflections and taking selfies but you weren’t interested being a part of that. Amy and Lily were the type to use the gym as an opportunity to attract their gym crush of the day. You didn’t blame them though, they were gorgeous (you are too ofc) but it did mean that they kind of use you as leverage to flirt with guys.

Since you were a lot more shy and insecure compared to them, it was easy for them take advantage so you were guessing that they brought you along to feel better about themselves.

“Hey ladies, are you here for a private session?”

The 3 of you turned around and saw quite literally a wet dream in a human form. He wore a white tank top that showed off defined muscles and his black joggers made you all wonder how much he was packing underneath. His gorgeous smile supported with his dimple made you thank the heavens that you decided to join your friends.

“I’m Sunghoon and I’ll be your PT for today”

The three of you gave your names and he shook your hands. However you couldn’t help but notice that when he got to you, he held your hand for a bit longer and sent you a wink. Oh this session is going to be fun.

As you all followed him to the private gym on the second floor, your friends couldn’t help themselves and whispered about how hot he was and what they wanted to do with him. You never would’ve admitted it out loud but you most definitely agreed with what they had to say.

You entered the room and Sunghoon went to the corner to set up the speakers and blasted some upbeat music

“So Sunghoon, are you single?” Lily asked

Sunghoon just smiled and replied “Yes”

And obviously Amy had to pry further “Are you seeing anyone or looking for a partner?”

“No I’m not seeing or looking for anyone. Ok so let’s start with a few stretches” you were so glad he diverted the conversation. You’d rather the ground swallow you whole than listen to you friends’ unbearable flirting.

The 3 of you followed his directions behind him and reached down towards the floor. And when you thought it wasn’t over, your friends started again

“Hey Sunghoon. Could you help me stretch a bit more? I need a bit of a push” the two of them snickered and Lily added

“Me too. I love a good stretch and need you to stretch me more”

You thought to yourself “Omg have I just landed myself in some cringey storyline at the start of a porno???”

Sunghoon, being the professional that he was, turned around and just slightly pushed down on their backs before returning to his previous position in front of you.

Lily then looked in your direction. You weren’t the most flexible person so it was a bit difficult for you to keep your hands planted on the floor

“What is that Y/N? You’re not very flexible are you? You should stretch more” she laughed

If that wasn’t embarrassing enough, Amy had to add on “Sunghoon you should’ve seen her when we tried yoga. It was like watching a grandma haha. Lily and I go often though, we can show you after if you’d like”

Well didn’t you just feel on top of the world right now. You felt like a tomato and it was not because of the stretching

“Please refrain from talking about anything outside of this session. I am just doing my job as your trainer and I would appreciate if we could keep things professional thank you.” You could sense from his response that you weren’t the only one getting annoyed by your friends thank god.

“Ok so we’re going to reach down again but push further and hold it there. To make things easier, close your eyes and it will help you level your breathing”

Both Amy and Lily bent down to stretch but you took a moment to shake off your legs when you saw Sunghoon turn around and walk towards you. He came behind and placed his hands on your waist.

“Let me help you stretch a bit further pretty” he whispered in your ear and lightly rubbed your waist.

You felt the hairs on your neck prick up from his breath fanning again your neck. He then pushed your shoulders down and dragged them down your spine the further down you bent. As he pushed down on your lower back, you felt him slightly grind onto your heat.

It seemed like the other two didn’t notice anything since they weren’t making any noise. You never felt so alert but you could help it when you pushed back onto his crotch. The two of you carried on slightly grinding on each other for the entire stretch until till he brought his hand back to you waist and left to go back to his mat.

“Now we’re all stretched and can get onto the workout”

Damn it already felt like you had a whole work out with how heavy you were breathing. Obviously, Amy had to point out

“Damn Y/N how are you already out of breath. I don’t know how you’re gonna survive whatever Sunghoon’s gonna make you do”

You didn’t say anything back but you saw in the mirror in front a slight smirk on Sunghoon’s face. Oh if only you knew Amy

Throughout the whole session, it seemed like Sunghoon couldn’t keep his hands off you. If anyone was to walk in, they would’ve thought it was just the two of you working out together. Because he made the 3 of you do a circuit, the other two weren’t able to pay attention to Sunghoon feeling you up for each exercise. You didn’t know how much more you could take before you’d say fuck it (quite literally) and just jump his bones. Even if your friends were present.

To your relief, Sunghoon announced that the workout session was over and it was time to cool down. You thought that this would be your time to actually relax your muscles and focus on getting your heartbeat steady again. But instead it started to speed up again when Sunghoon spoke up again

“So the next stretch, you’re going to spread your legs apart and reach forward to put you hands and forehead on the floor”

He got up and added “I don’t want you to injure yourself so I’ll help you with this one”

Oh god

Once again your friend proceeded to stretch and Sunghoon made himself comfortable behind you again and mumbled so quietly that you could barely hear him

“Don’t make any noise princess”

He used his left arm to pull you back and hold you against his chest while his other hand dragged down your front and cupped your heat. You almost let out a gasp but quickly bit your lip to stop yourself. He carried on rubbing his middle finger up and down between your legs and when he dragged it to your clit, he brought his middle three fingers to put pressure onto it and rub circles before repeating the process again.

The view in the mirror in front of the both of you was so dirty yet so arousing. The thought that there was a chance that one of your friends could just look up and witness your act made you feel a bubble of excitement in your stomach

Sunghoon remembered that the two of you still had some company to he quickly ordered “Now keep your heads down and reach over to stretch on your left side”

It was getting more difficult for you to not moan out loud so you moved your head back to lean on his left shoulder and lightly panted into his ear. He turned towards you and leaned in for a kiss. It was so wet and sloppy and made you gush even more. If it wasn’t for the loud music playing, you were sure that your friends would’ve picked up on the lip smacking as you carried on swapping saliva. With a wet smack he pulled away from you lips.

“Ok remember to keep your heads down and now stretch on your right side”

When he went back in, the both of you stuck your tongues out and he started sucking you tongue in and out of his mouth. You needed to feel more so you bent your knees and planted your feet on the ground to start grinding into him palm even more as you both wiggled your tongues together. You felt the heat build up in your stomach and whispered to him

“I think I’m gonna cum”

He pressed your foreheads together and said with a smirk “Not yet baby”

You nearly let out a whine and he reluctantly removed himself from you

“Now slowly lift yourselves back up and slowly stand up”

Although you weren’t the one who had been stretching, you got up with a slight wobble from the uncomfortable feeling of wetness in your panties along with your denied orgasm. The other two didn’t question anything since it had been a hard workout.

Sunghoon clapped his hands together “That’s it for the session! Thank you for your hard work” and bowed

You and your friends thanked him back and went to gather your belongings.

“Wait Y/N, I know you struggle a bit more with your flexibility. Would you be able to stay back for a bit so I can help you out? I would feel terrible if you didn’t feel properly stretched after a workout and you don’t want to pull anything” Sunghoon said to you with a smile. And who were you to turn down such an opportunity

“Oh ok! You guys don’t have to wait up for me if you want to go home and shower?” You really hoped they would leave and not question anything since it was quite sudden. Fortunately they agreed and left, leaving you alone with the hot trainer that hadn’t taking his eyes off your ass.

Once the doors closed he grabbed you by the waist to spin you around and immediately attacked your lips with his in a wet kiss. Both of you tongues fought till he stuck his tongue all the way out into your mouth. He licked all around the inside your mouth and slightly moved back to suck your tongue all the way into his. His hands snaked down to grab a handful of your ass and you finally let out a moan. He took the opportunity to slot his thigh between yours and moved you back an forth over his solid muscles. All of a sudden he stopped everything and panted out

“Ok baby, let’s stretch you. Be a good doll and lie on your back for me” he slapped your ass and went over to lock the doors

When he returned to you, he kneeled at your head and moved you so that your head was on his crotch and you could feel his hard dick “Such a good girl. You take orders well don’t you sweet thing”

You were breathing so hard with anticipation that your squeaked out a small “yes”

He then started to rub his arms down your body, starting from you shoulders, slowly rubbing small circles over your clothed breasts and moving them down to your thighs. He took his time rubbing the creases where your thighs met your crotch and smoothed over the outside of your pussy.

Your breathing was slightly shaky and he could see from the way your chest moved rapidly so he chuckled “Are you nervous baby? You don’t need to be nervous. Daddy will take great care of you. Just take deep breaths for me princess”

As you deeply inhaled, you felt his hands grab the sides of your thighs and pulled your legs up towards your chest. You carried on focusing on your breathing as he stretched your legs so that you were bent in half and he slightly leaned forward to place your feet on his broad shoulders

“God baby what a beautiful sight. Look how much you can stretch pretty. Maybe you were faking it when we were warming up huh?” He teased

When he looked in the mirror, all he could think of was how he could easily he could shove his hard dick down your throat. If he wasn’t already rock hard, he most definitely was now

He then let out a growl and slowly bent down towards your centre “Fuck babygirl, with the way you’re stretching, you make it so easy for me to just… eat… you… up”

Without any warning, you felt his hot tongue run from your clit and all the way down the seam of your leggings and he shook his head side to side, addicted to the smell of your arousal. You could feel him take a deep intake through his nose where your clit was and he carried on licking your clothed core. But he wanted more, so he lifted your hips back off the floor and pulled the back of your leggings and panties all the way past your ass. He was too needy to pull your leggings and underwear off your legs so he bunched them at your knees and used his upper arms to press the back of your thighs down till you were bent in half.

Your head had moved so it was on the mat and his hard dick was almost pressed against your face. You could feel his breath against your exposed pussy as he brought his fingers to spread your glistening lips.

“I’m telling you, this has got to be the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen baby. You’re so creamy and look so tasty”

He took another whiff before saying “Ah daddy’s gonna drink up your juices so well princess”

And with that he dove in tongue first to lap up at your entrance. He tongue fucked your pussy and sucked at your clit harshly. God he thought at this moment that your pussy would be his new addiction and he need to taste it everyday for the rest of his life.

The music playing from the speakers did absolutely nothing to cover the pornographic sounds that came out of your mouth. Even with Sunghoon eating your pussy so deliciously while holding you down so you can’t escape, the sight of his dick on top of you was absolutely mouth watering. You brought your hand up to his hard cock and gave it a squeeze before moving you hand up and down.

Finally, Sunghoon detached himself from your pussy to let out the most delicious moan you’ve ever heard and started to grind into your hand. His moans alone would’ve probably made you cum right there.

“Oh yeah that’s right baby squeeze daddy’s cock. You wanna suck on it too? Lick it like a lollipop my gorgeous girl”

He reached down to his joggers and pulled them down just enough to release his dick. It sprung out and slapped your cheek before resting by your face.

“Suck daddy’s dick princess while daddy eats up your creamy pussy” he growled before eating you out again

You lifted your head off the ground to take his hard, warm dick into your mouth and sucked as hard as you could. The suction made him moan so loud that the vibrations felt more intense than any vibrator you had ever used. You almost wanted to scream from how good his tongue felt. You both carried on making each other feel the most pleasure either of you had ever felt. And the vibrations from your moans only intensified that pleasure.

You were so concentrated on making him feel good that it took you a moment to realise that Sunghoon started to bend your legs further back. Without any warning, his tongue flickered across your clit a few times before it ran all the way down to your asshole. It was the first time anyone had touched your other entrance and it felt so good.

“Oh fuck daddy please do that again. That feels so good” you moaned out and took his cock back into your hot mouth.

“You like it? Such a greedy baby. But daddy will give you whatever you want” he said smugly

He used your ass as leverage to pull you back and forth. His flattened tongue stroked up and down your crotch from your puffy clit to your winking rim.

“Oh shit baby I can’t get enough with your taste. This is the most delicious pussy and ass and it’s all MINE”

The slurping and moaning was so hot and the both of you could feel your orgasms building up. Sunghoon started to rut into your throat and groaned into your pussy. He so desperately wanted to moan out load and let you know how well you were sucking him off, but he wanted you to come as well so he started to suck and vibrate his moan onto your clit.

If it wasn’t for him grinding on your face, you would’ve screamed from the overwhelming pleasure. You needed to cum right now or you’d explode. So you brought your hands to the back of his head and pressed him further into your pussy. He loved the feeling of you using his face to get off that he started to thrust in your face even more. At this point you didn’t care if it was desperate, you just needed to cum, so as you pressed his face in your centre, you started humping vigorously into his mouth. The both of you were getting closer and closer. You wouldn’t stop humping each other’s faces and it was so hot.

All of a sudden, Sunghoon’s thighs started shaking and you sucked so hard as his cum spurted into your throat. It turned you on so much how YOU make his legs shake and how YOU got him to release the most beautiful moans.

He carried on twitching but he still needed to make you cum. He was craving for it. So he returned his mouth back onto your clit and created a vacuum whilst moaning from his own pleasure

“Yes. Yes. Cream in my mouth princess. Daddy wants to squirt all over his face. Drown me in your juices omg. Use daddy’s face. Hump me baby hump me”

So you carried on grinding on his face and quickened your hips when you felt an overwhelming amount of pleasure wash over you.

You screamed so loud as you squirted hard into Sunghoon’s mouth. He was completely obsessed with your taste and drank up everything you had to offer. He held your shaking leg back from closing as he slurped at your entrance.

You laughed and tried to push him away from your overstimulated pussy

“Sunghoon I’m sensitive”

“Uh uh let me drink you up baby. I’m not done cleaning you” you felt him smiling against you

At last, he slowly lowered you legs and moved so he could hover over you and kiss you.

“You did so well baby. Can you taste yourself?” he mumbled against your lips and stroked your hair

The way he looked down at you made your heart skip. This all felt so… natural

“I know this is all fast and probably a weird time, but I’d really like to get to know you. Would you like to go out for dinner with me some time soon? Of course you don’t have to say yes, I completely understand” he started to ramble with a slight tint in his cheeks

How could one be so cute after giving you the best head?

You shut his rambling up with a peck and responded “I would love to get dinner with you Sunghoon”

His precious smile just made you want to squeeze his cheeks! He gave you more pecks and leaned down to suck on your neck

“I’m still so hard baby” he groaned

“Oh yea? You wanna fuck my pussy baby?” You teased back at him

He moaned and begged “Yes please doll. Let me fuck you so hard”

“Ok then Hoonie”

After hearing that nickname and your approval, he quickly stripped you from your clothes and ripped his off himself. His well-sculpted body was everything you had fantasised about in your wet dreams. And the fact that is was paired with the gorgeous face of a perfect man written by females themselves, was just icing on the cake.

He spread your legs and spat onto your pussy (not like you needed it) before easing his way into your heat. His girth stretched you so deliciously that you felt like drooling. It was the most perfect dick ever. And it felt perfect inside you as well.

He rutted into you and stared into your eyes, leaving his mouth hanging open. The sweet melody of your moans together and skip clapping was something that people would pay to get off to. The mirrors were fogging up from the panting and intensity.

“Baby please ride me” Sunghoon panted. He did want to carry of fucking you at his own pace but he was so close to cumming and he really wanted to watch your bare tits bounce in front of him when he came.

You both flipped over and you quickly started to grind on his dick. Now that he had helped you to stretch, your hips were rapid and you angled your clit to drag along his pubic hair. It feels so good omg

Sunghoon looked down at your pussy and the way your juices coated his pubes and pelvis, he moaned out so loud

“You’re so hot oh my fucking god princess. Yes! Ride my dick like that. Can I cum inside you baby?” as he held you up and thrusted up into you, angling his hips to hit your g spot

“Oh fuck yes daddy cum in me! You’re gonna make my cum again”

“Cum with me baby. That’s it”

And just like that, you both came hard. He filled you up so full that it started to leak out of your pussy

You were both shaking so hard that you collapsed and layed on top of him.

You were both trying to catch your breath as you snuggled up together. You could feel him press sweet kisses to your hairline and he dragged his fingertips up and down your spine.

“You good princess?”

“Yea” you respond with a happy sigh and lift yourself up to sit on him

He looked up at you with such fond eyes and stroked you waist. There was a fainted mischievous smile as he brought his fingers down to where your were both connected to gather his cum that spilled out

“It’s taking all of the strength in me to not make you sit on my face and have you drip in my mouth” he groaned whilst staring at your soaking pussy. “If you’re free after this, maybe we should continue this at mine and we can find out how many times I can make you cum?”

You slowly lifted yourself off his semi hard member and situated yourself on his lower stomach. You still wanted tease him a bit more so you started to grind on his abs. Sunghoon moaned at the warm feeling and layed his head back down to try and control himself.

“I guess I’m free to do that. But only if you let me cum on your abs and suck you off in the shower” you flirted back

He bit his lip with a smile “Deal”

Oh weren’t you glad that your friends dragged you for a workout

Author’s note: Well… I did not expect for this to be that long but sleeveless Sunghoon just makes me go feral 😅 Thank you so much to those who voted for this fic and waited so patiently for it, I hope it was worth the wait 🫶 And thank you for taking the time to read my work 🩵

[suhkusa]

EGOIST 22. FINAL.

PAIRING. Atsumu Miya x f!Reader

CW. timeskip, angst, fluff, little surprise at the end

A/N. this is it!!! thank you for those who have stuck around for the past year, i'm sorry it's taken me this long but i hope it was somewhat worth the wait!!! i enjoyed reading your comments and asks about the series sm. this series challenged me in many ways, but helped me get back into writing. i love u all sm and thank u again <3 ps if u have any questions or want me to answer some “whats if”s feel free to send an ask!!!

-> MASTERLIST.

3 YEARS LATER.

Atsumu is absolutely hyped. 

He’s finally here, the real big stage. The Olympics. 

Never in a million years would he have thought that he’d get here alongside many other amazing volleyball players. He’s snapped out of his thoughts when he hears his name being announced, leaving from under the stadium seats to run out to the main courts, allowing himself to flourish in the loud cheers. 

Atsumu was on his A-Game, he didn’t care who he’d have to go against, he was determined to win. 

The rest of his team came out shortly after Atsumu, the group of them huddled up near the coaches as the other team was loudly called out. The first match they had was against the U.S, and something about that sounded familiar, though he didn’t bother to think too much into it. He squinted as he listened to his coach yap about doing good out there and not let them get under their skins.

After the other team is lined up, the Japan team is lined up in front of them. There’s some commencement announcements that are being played on the speaker, allowing Atsumu some time to enter the zone. 

When the whistle blows, everyone takes their positions. Atsumu is ready. 

The match starts with the sound of a buzzer. And everyone is on the move. 

The U.S’ team was definitely a challenge for Japan’s, but after the rigorous training they’ve been put through, the win was more than easy to steal, the match ending at the 4th set with Japan named the winners.

Everyone cheered as they celebrated their victory in the main court. As Atsumu’s eyes scanned through the U.S’ team, his eye was caught on a woman who stood by the coaches.

His gaze went right past her at first until he backtracked and looked again, this time more intently. 

The adrenaline running through his body stopped almost entirely as he froze in place.

It couldn’t be, could it?

–––

It’s hard to celebrate along with the rest of the team when his heart and his mind caught on to you. 

After going to multiple therapy sessions, he’d finally found it in him to let you go. From his mind at least, not so much his heart. 

But it felt like all the progress he was so proud of himself for making just washed down the drain. Just at the mere sight of you. Did you see him? Were you proud of him even though you were on the opposite side of the court? Were you involved with any of those men on that team? How have you been? You cut your hair? Seeing you let the many thoughts that he thought he had locked away loose. Though, he wasn’t sure if he was so mad at the occurrence.

Perhaps it was fate’s cruel way of reminding him that his past never really goes away. But even so, he knows better than to go out of his way to find you. The last time he talked to you was a hard time in his life, and you made it more than clear that you wanted nothing to do with him.

“You coming, Miya?” his teammate, Sakusa Kiyoomi, called out to him. The two had been chosen from the MSBY team together, alongside Hinata and Bokuto. 

“What, where?” Atsumu replies, a confused look on his face as his eyes meet Sakusa’s.

“The guys wanted to go to the Olympic Conference party, it’s at the facility down the street,” Sakusa is applying hand sanitizer to his hands as he continues, “Participants in the Olympics are all invited, but you don’t have to if you’re tired,”

Atsumu gets up, stretching his limbs out before finally deciding on going. “Sure, I wouldn’t mind getting some fresh air,”

The two of them join the others as they make their way into the shuttle that’d take them to the Olympic Conference. 

The place is bigger than it looks on the outside. He sees people from the swimming events and even the ice-skating events. The amount of people nearly overwhelms him, which is surprising for Atsumu Miya since he usually enjoys parties. He wasn’t quite sure where to go so he opted to follow Sakusa around, joining him in getting a drink by the bar.

“Be sure not to drink too much,” Sakusa turns to the other man as they both down the drinks they were given. Atsumu gives him a funny look, “I’m serious, we still have matches to play,”

“Obviously, I’m not stupid,” Atsumu rolls his eyes, “Just needed something to take the edge off, y’know?”

Sakusa raises his eyebrows in turn before gesturing to Atsumu that he was gonna go. “Oh, I’ll follow,” Atsumu replies.

“You sure?” Sakusa looks back at him.

Atsumu confused, an eyebrow raising in response, “What? Yeah, I don’t have anywhere else to go, Shoyo and Kou already went their own ways,”

“Ookay, then,”

Atsumu is surprised as he follows Sakusa through the crowd. He wonders where they’re going as they leave the big crowd and make their way to the smaller party rooms. 

“Kiyoomi!” a voice calls, and it causes him to freeze in his steps.

The other man walks a bit further up, leaving Atsumu behind. Atsumu watches as a smaller figure embraces Sakusa in a hug. 

“It’s been a while, Y/N,” 

The sound of your name was almost foreign. Genuinely, it feels like he hasn’t heard that name in a millenia. He isn’t sure if he should go or keep standing there like an idiot, but fate chooses for him as you let go of the black-haired man and catch a glimpse of Atsumu behind him.

This is what Sakusa was talking about.

“Oh,” falls from your lips, “Atsumu? Is that you?”

He feels almost faint at the sound of his name coming from your mouth, your voice. His response comes out on his own.

“Y-Yeah, it’s been a while, huh?” He curses himself for the tenseness of his words. 

You give him a smile, saying something to Sakusa that he can’t quite interpret before you walk closer to him. Were you coming up to him or walking past him? His mind turns to goo as you’re a breath away. 

“Did you want to come outside with me? It’s a little hot,”

It wasn’t that hot, it was actually somewhat cold, but Atsumu nodded and followed your lead. He doesn’t want to say too much, he’s scared. He’s scared if he were to say the wrong thing, he’d wake up from this dream.

Atsumu’s getting deja vu as you lead him through the big crowd and through the double doors. 

The two of you stand beside each other, letting the cool air blow past. It’s silent aside from the cars that drive by, and the distant music coming from inside. 

Atsumu is getting anxious with every passing second, he can’t stop himself from speaking. 

“How have you been?” He's thankful the words that escape are normal and not created off the impulsive thoughts he had earlier. 

He hears you take a deep breath before you respond, “I’ve been good, like actually. It’s really nice in California,”

You sound genuine and it makes him a little less tense.

“At first it was hard, since I only understood a bit of English, but I guess Duolingo really helps you out,” you laugh, “But I’ve met so many people, a lot of celebrities especially since they come to the games sometimes,”

“That’s good, Y/N,” Atsumu gives. He’s not sure what else to say. 

There’s a hesitant look in your eyes, “How… how have you been?”

“I’ve been good, too. My brother recommended me to his therapist so I did that for a while,” your eyes widened in surprise at that. 

“That’s good, Atsumu,”

He nods, “Yeah. Other than that, it’s been the same old, just playing volleyball,”

The two of you sit in another round of silence.

He’s surprised when you’re the one who brings up the subject he’s been dying to know.

“Have you been seeing anyone else?” your eyes find a place in the opposite direction of him.

“No, not at all. Not since, well, you know,” he beats himself up mentally for the way he worded that. Was that necessary? “And you?”

“Nope, I’ve been too busy, but I’d be lying if I said I’ve been celibate while here,” you let out a breathy laugh. “Party culture is huge in California,”

Your words prick a little at Atsumu’s heart, but who was he to judge?

“That’s cool,” a faux laugh escapes his mouth.

“I’m sorry,” your words caught him off guard, “I can’t lie to you, I have your name blocked on everything, so I didn’t know you were on the Japan National Team, but I’m proud of you,”

“It was definitely a shock to see your face from across the court,” you continue. “I hate to bring up the past, but I’m sorry for how harsh I was that night,”

“It’s fine, it was my fault,” Atsumu smiles down at you.

“Time away allowed me to really get in tune with my emotions and thoughts, and I finally think I was able to really forgive you. I mean not that it matters, I just think seeing you made me feel nostalgic,”

He laughs, “No, I get it. I feel similar,”

“To be honest, I wasn’t planning on seeing or talking to you at all during my time here. I was hoping we just wouldn’t cross paths, but I’m glad we did talk. Genuinely,”

“Same, Y/N. I’ve been thinking about you since I saw you on the court, and it was really scary considering I haven’t thought about you that much since years ago. But talking to you really helped, and I think maybe I finally got the closure my therapist was talking about,”

You share a small smile, “That’s good,”

The wind blows a bit harsher, the passage of time didn’t really click with Atsumu until now.

“You want to head inside?” he holds an arm out, which you hook onto.

“Sure,”

The rest of the Japan team are huddled in their own little group when the two of you approach them. Shot glasses are shoved into your hands before you can rebuttal. 

“I really shouldn’t–” Atsumu pushes. 

“Just do it, Tsum-Tsum,” Bokuto smiles.

Cheers, echoes through the air as the lot of you raise your glasses and down the hard liquor.

“I’m gonna find a seat just in case I collapse,” you whisper into his ear. He chuckles to himself when he remembers how much of a lightweight you are.

“I’ll come with,”

He’s surprised how quick you are to start yapping. Laughing as you go on and on about your ventures in California. It’s interesting though. The states made you glow and have definitely changed your demeanor. 

“I miss home, though,” you whine, “But I’m glad I’m coming home soon,”

Your words cause a brow of his to rise, “Soon?”

“Did Omi not tell you?” you mumble, there’s a confused-worried look on your face, “I’m coming back to Japan after the Olympics,”

“What?”

Your eyes widen, “W-Why? Should I not?”

“NO- I mean no, that’s great news,”

He can see you visibly settle down at his words. The two of your bodies melt into the couch as the time passes. He’s looking around, watching the other party goers have their own fun. Your breath falls into harmony with his own. 

The news you just dropped on him was definitely a shocker. He wasn’t quite sure how to process it.

Would you be coming back to MSBY? Probably not, huh? Maybe a nearby team? Maybe he should stop getting ahead of himself. He looks down at you, your eyes are dozing off. 

“Atsumu,” your voice is small as it calls out for him.

“Yeah?”

“Do you still like me?”

FORGIVE OR FORGET

© all writings belongs to suhkusa 2024. do not repost or change.

[matty-bear]

II. New Tattooist, New Romantic Tension 

type: request !

pairing: idk ! LOL (nothing romantic is gonna happen srry guys 💔)

warnings: SFW, fluff

summary: in desperate need for another tattoo, nick texts mez and asks for an appointment. unfortunately for him, she’s not gonna be available for quite a while. to save the boy's despair and cure his needs, Mez suggests Nick to go to you. it took a bit of convincing, but the oldest triplet ends up in the shop with you. who knew that the blooming friendship between the two of you would cause some issues regarding nick’s younger brothers to form ?  

notes: More of a filler chapter srry guys 😖 nothing very exciting happening rn. promise next chapter will be better ! ^^ anywho, hope u enjoy ! happy reading <3 

WC: 3.7K

PT1

'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•''•.¸♡ ♡¸.•''•.¸♡ ♡¸.•''��.¸♡ ♡¸.•''•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'

The soft, consistent buzzing sound of the tattoo gun held in your hand collides with the sound of Billie Eilish playing on the speaker behind you. Somehow, the buzzing didn’t clash too much with the music playing, in fact it added another blanket of comfort and easiness to the current tattoo session. 

As you find yourself softly singing along to L’amoure De Ma Vie under your breath, Nick’s voice cutting through the comfortable silence causes you to lift your head up slightly. 

“So.” The brunette starts, his gaze shifting from the poster on the wall across from him to you. “How long have you been doing tattoos?” 

“Well… it’s my this day here but-“ You begin to say, only to be cut off by Nick gasping halfway through your sentence. 

The boy abruptly lifts his head up from the head cushion he’s resting on, his eyes mimicking those of a deer caught in headlights as he stares at you wide-eyed. “WHAT? GIRL…” The male exclaims, the tone of voice going up a few octaves. 

“You didn’t let me finish.” You say with a soft laugh as you lift the tattoo gun off Nick’s calf. You take a moment to get more ink in your device before continuing, “I’ve been doing tattoos for about five years but it’s only my third day working here in the shop.” 

A loud and long ‘ah’ sounds from Nick as he lays his head back down on the small cushion attached to the recliner. Soon after, soft laughter bubbles up his throat and the brunette finds himself clamping a hand over his mouth to muffle the sound. 

Curious at the male's sudden outburst, you turn your head to face him, a small giggle of your own slipping from your lips as you take a moment to look at him. “What are you laughing at?” You ask with a laugh. 

Nick allows more laughter to rack through his body for a moment more before he removes his hand from his mouth and replies, “I was so scared.” The male manages to say through choked laughter. “I deadass thought I was gonna get scammed or some shit.” 

“Seriously? How would I scam you? You literally saw my Instagram yourself.” At this point, the tattoo gun in your hand has been momentarily forgotten, the buzzing emitting from it falling on deaf ears and your focus staying solely on the current rather silly conversation at hand. 

“I have no idea.” You join Nick in the laughing fit for a little while longer before you remember why the boy was with you in the shop in the first place. 

Quickly, you immediately shift back into professional mode and take a moment to examine the tattoo, which is very close to being finished, on the brunette's lower leg. With a few wipes to clean off the ink residue sliding off the male’s freshly shaven skin, you get back to work. 

Nick, noticing the sudden switch up in your demeanor, quickly clamps his mouth shut and forces the remaining giggles threatening to escape his lips down his throat. It only took a few deep breaths from the male for him to fully calm down and sink into the wrapped recliner seat, his brain momentarily shutting off as it takes in the soft beats of Billie Eilish. 

~~~~~

 “And….” You sing softly as you gently drag a ink-filled paper towel across Nick’s final tattoo. With a wide, proud smile, you sit up right and stare down at the male's leg for a moment before exclaiming, “We’re done!” 

“Really?” Nick beams, his eyes widening in excitement as he hurriedly attempts to sit up. Seeing how the boy struggles to do so, presumably due to his arms which fell asleep from being immobile for so long, you quickly rush over to where his upper body is.

Slipping your arm behind the brunette’s back and setting your free hand on his bicep, you assist him into a sitting position. Once Nick is comfortably sitting up, he bids you a small ‘thank you’ and stretches his arms out before him.

A small yawn racks through his body for a moment before he quickly bends his leg upwards, his eyes scanning his calf for the new tattoos. When his eyes finally lands on one of them, an excited gasp escapes his lips, followed by his jaw dropping slightly in pure awe. 

“HOLYFUCKTHATSSOCLEAN!” The male exclaims, his words quickly slurring together due to his excitement. “Fuck, where are the other two hold on.” 

A small giggle manages to escape your lips as you turn on your heels to walk over to a cabinet across the room. The moment you open one of the doors, Nick gasping in astonishment yet again sounds through your ears, drawing a soft laugh from you. After scanning the contents stacking the few shelves in the cabinet, you quickly slip a bottle of soap and a clear container off their shelves. 

Once you shut the door gently with a soft thud, you turn back around and approach the recliner where Nick is still sitting. You take a seat back on your chair next to the brunette and use your free hand to pull your rolling tray closer to you. 

You gently set down the container on the cold metal and set the bottle in between your index and middle fingers down on your lap to grab the roll of paper towels with both your hands. You rip a few off the roll rather quickly and set it back down on the tray to pick up the two items you had moments before. 

“Considering how many tattoos you have, I'm guessing you know about the aftercare and such, right?” You ask, batting an eye at the brunette as you flick open the small latch on the clear container. 

“Oh, for sure! I need to not pick at it, no matter how itchy it gets, and keep it cleaned and moisturized until it fully heals.” Nick explains with a firm nod of his head. 

“Good, good.” You mumble as you slip a few adhesive medical-grade sheets out of the container. As you set the small box back on the tray, Nick’s eyebrows furrow in confusion and interest as you begin to flick your pointer finger around the edge of one of the sheets. 

“What’s that?” At the male's question, you momentarily stop your actions and lift your head to lock eyes with him. Now it’s your turn for your eyebrows to furrow in slight confusion. With your head tilted to the side, you ask, “You don’t know what these are?” 

Hesitantly, Nick shakes his head softly. “I’m guessing it’s another wrap of some sort.” 

“Well you’re not very far off.” You take a quick moment to fix your focus back on finding the opening of the sheet before you continue, “It’s clear adhesive medical-grade sheets. They’re a lot better than regular plastic wrap in my opinion since they trap moisture a lot better and prevent little to no bacteria from coming into contact with your tattoo.” 

A hum of understanding sounds from Nick as he gently nods his head. “I'm used to the plastic wrap since Mez usually uses it but I'm very intrigued with these sheets.” 

“Mez likes keeping it old school sometimes. I think she’ll start to use these soon though. Most people in the shop have started to use them.” Nick hums yet again and grows silent to allow you to focus on removing the adhesive sheet from the packaging. 

Once you successfully have it removed, you gently set the sheet back down on the plastic before reaching over to your tray to pick up a single paper towel and the bottle from earlier. You easily flick the cap open with your pointer finger and pour some of the liquid on the thin paper. After shutting it and setting it back down on the tray, you gently grasp Nick’s ankle to draw his leg closer to you. As you move the male’s limb over, the boy quickly scoots over with a sheepish smile. 

Setting down your palm on Nick’s shin, you locate the first tattoo and give it a few wipes to clean the area from any leftover ink or blood. Once that is done, you quickly pick up the adhesive sheet and place it directly over the tattoo. You give the area a few taps to make sure it’s secure before sitting up straight, a small smile immediately gracing your lips as you scan the patched area. 

“Alright, first tattoo is successfully covered! Two more to go.” You state, your smile not faltering as you glance over at Nick. 

“That was it? It usually takes Mez a little bit longer to get it wrapped.” Nick asks, his mouth shaping into a small oval. As the male sits up and leans forwards to examine the covered tat with a surprised expression, you reply, “Well, i’m not covering your entire leg; just the tattoo and some of the skin around it. I’m telling you, this shit is amazing.” 

“It really is.” Nick mumbles as he extends a hand down to graze a finger over the adhesive. You can’t help but giggle softly at the male’s curiosity as you quickly prep your items to cover his next tattoo. The wrapping process didn’t take more than 20 minutes and Nick simply sat back and silently watched as you got to work on cleaning and covering his tattoos. 

Just as you finished placing the last adhesive sheet on Nick’s final tattoo, Lunch by Billie Eilish began to play. The moment the beginning beats of the song spilled from the speaker behind you, a small gasp escaped you as you sat back up. 

“What? What’s wrong?” Nick asks, a look of worry immediately flashing across his face as he hurriedly sits upright. 

“Nothing, nothing.” You quickly reassure the brunette with a small wave of the hand. “I just love this song.” 

“Oh my God…” A laugh of disbelief escapes Nick's lips as he lays back down with a soft thud. “Fucking gave me heart attack.” 

“My bad.” A small giggle manages to slip from you as you send the male a small, apologetic smile. “Anyways, I believe we’re done now. You’re free to go.” 

“Wait, I kinda don’t wanna leave.” Nick mumbles as he brings a hand up to his nape to gently caress the skin there. 

“How come?” You ask the boy as you begin to pry your black gloves off your hands. 

“I had so much fun and you’re so sweet and nice.” At the sound of Nick's voice cracking slightly, you quickly pick your head up and look at him. Immediately, you’re met with the brunette frowning and growing teary eyed. 

“Awh, Nick. Don’t cry!” You quickly wheel yourself over to the male and wrap your arms around his shoulders to bring him into a hug. 

“I’m sorry I really don’t mean to, I promise. I tend to get a little emotional when I'm met with nice people.” Nick mumbles an apology as he sets his chin on your shoulder, a soft sniffle escaping him. 

“Hey, you don’t need to apologize. You’re good, promise. You can cry however much you want. I’m honestly really touched that you think I'm this sweet.” 

“You really are. I swear if we don’t become best friends I'm gonna go insane.”

A soft chuckle escapes your lips as you rub comforting circles on Nick’s clothed back. “I don’t think you have to worry about us becoming best friends. Aren’t we friends already?” 

Nick pulls away from your embrace and takes a moment to wipe his eyes with the sleeve of his zip up before asking, “Are we?” 

“Of course we are! You’re literally the best and sweetest client I've ever had. Not to mention how you have the best music taste. I kid you not when I play my Melanie playlist during a session, the majority of my clients will ask me to change the music. Do you know how many times I've had to sit in this room for hours listening to country music?” 

“Oh my…” Nick mumbles, a look of both horror and fear spreading across his features. The boy lets out a soft laugh before he says, “I swear if I had to listen to only country music during a tattoo session, I’d pass away in the chair.” 

“I almost did for a few sessions.” You say with a small laugh. “I’m down for listening to any genre of music but country is definitely where I cross the line.” 

“Oh, same here.” Nick agrees with a soft head nod. The brunette goes to open his mouth to add onto the conversation but is quickly cut off by a phone ringing. As you unwillingly flinch at the loud sound piercing your eardrums, Nick quickly digs his hand in the pocket of his pants. After a few seconds, the male pulls the device out and softly taps the screen to turn it on. 

When it lights up, his eyes immediately skim over the notifications filling his home screen. Upon reading a certain message, a small frown begins to form on Nick’s lips. At the sight of the sudden switch in the brunette’s mood, your eyebrows furrow, followed by your head tilting to the side slightly. 

“Everything alright?” You ask the male. After a moment of hesitation, you gently set a hand on Nick’s clothed shoulder, your pointer finger subconsciously caressing the soft fabric of his zip up. 

You manage to catch the male take a quick glance up at you before his eyes shift back down to his device. “Umm…” Nick hums, his voice barely above a whisper as he unlocks his phone and opens up his messages. After opening up a chat, the boy continues, “My brother is telling me to hurry up. Kids apparently starving to death in the car.” 

A soft chuckle slips through your lips as Nick sighs softly and begins typing out a response to the message sent from his brother. 

“Is he waiting outside or something?” You ask. 

“Yeah. Both my brothers are.” Nick replies with a small head nod. “I told them they could leave and pick me up when I'm done.” The boy grumbles under his breath, slight irritation present in his tone. After hitting the send button, the brunette finally lifts his head to look up at you. After heavily exhaling through his nose, the boy continues, “I’m afraid I have to go now.” 

At the sight of Nick’s frown depending, you bring the boy into another quick hug. “Hey, don’t sweat it. Come visit me sometime. The door is always open!” You reassure the boy as you rub comforting circles on his back once more. 

“But you’re so sweet and nice, I wanna stay.” Nick mumbles sadly. 

“I would definitely let you stay a bit longer but I don’t wanna get on your brothers’ bad sides. Also, I do think I have another appointment in 30 minutes and I need to start prepping for that.” 

With a loud, dramatic groan from Nick, the boy pulls away from your embrace. The small frown on his lips stays etched onto his face as he slowly slips off the wrapped recliner. “I suppose I'll go then.” Nick mumbles with a sigh, his shoulders dropping dramatically as he does so. “Thanks for the tats. I really appreciate it. You fucking did amazing.” 

“Of course! Also thanks, Nick. That means a lot.” You say with a small smile. “I'll see you soon hopefully?” 

“Most definitely. You’ll be seeing more of my ass in this shop. You’re never gonna get rid of me.” 

A small chuckle escapes your lips as you gently shake your head. After ensuring that he has all his belongings, Nick shuffles over to you and wraps his arms around your shoulders to pull you into yet another hug. You quickly reciprocate the affection by wrapping your arms loosely around his middle. 

After a moment, the boy pulls away and bids you a small ‘goodbye’ and another ‘thank you’ before exiting your room. After ensuring that the door is closed correctly, Nick spins around on his heels and begins his short walk to the front of the shop. Just as he approaches the front door, a familiar voice cusses him to momentarily stop in his tracks. 

“See you, Nick.” 

With a quick turn of the head, Nick locks eyes with the male, who he recently learned is named Mike thanks to you, who’s standing behind the front desk. The raven haired male has his head propped up on the palm of his left hand as the other is lazily draped on the wooden furniture in front of him. 

A small, sluggish smile decorates his features as he keeps intense eye contact with the brunette in front of him. Speaking of the boy, Nick stays frozen in his spot for a moment longer, his mind desperately searching for a decent response. After what felt like an eternity of staring at Mike, (which was really about six seconds) Nick finally opens his mouth to voice a response. 

“See you. Have a nice day.” 

With that, Nick rips his gaze away from the tattooed male and pushes the door open to rush out of the shop. As Nick seemingly bolts down the sidewalk, he nearly misses the van which is parked not far from the shop. Matt, noticing that his older brother has passed the car, quickly sets his hand on the car horn and pushes the area a few times. At the sound of the honking, Nick jumps and quickly turns around, his eyes wide in slight fear and his heart beating loudly in his ears. 

At the sight of the brunette staring at him and not moving a muscle, Matt sighs heavily and rolls down his window to stick his head out. “Get in the car you idiot!” The boy shouts before he plops back down on his seat. 

“Yeah, Big Yellow! Get in the car!” Chris exclaims, also rolling his window down slightly to poke his head out of the car. 

“I’m not even blonde anymore!” Nick shouts back, throwing his arms in the air in slight irritation. The brunette can faintly make out Chris giggling as he gets back in his seat and rolls his window back up. Nick huffs before his legs begin to bring him over to the van. 

Upon arriving at the side door, the boy pushes the button on the handle and waits for the door to slide open before he hops inside. He quickly pulls the lever on the door down to shut it before seating himself down on the seat, a heavy exhale escaping him as he feels the cold air conditioning inside the car nip at his nose. 

“Sooo,” Chris sings as he turns around in his seat to look back at the older, a wide smile clear as day on his face. “How’d it go? Was y/n nice?” 

“God, she was so fucking nice. I kid you not, I thought I was conversing with a literal angel. Not to mention how fucking pretty she is, holy fuck. The session went so smoothly I've never felt so comfortable and content with someone during a tattoo session.” Nick gushes, a bright smile immediately decorating his features as he sits at the edge of his seat, excitement radiating off him. 

“That’s great, Nick. I’m glad she was nice. Did you cry in front of her because of it?” Matt asks teasingly as his eyes shift up to the rear view mirror. 

Nick’s excited expression immediately falls at Matt’s question, his eyes quickly narrowing as he sends a glare to the younger boy through the mentioned overhead mirror. “No.” The boy replies flatly. 

“You’re a fucking liar. I know you cried in there.” 

“OKAY maybe I did. Leave me alone. She was too sweet and you know how emotional I get when I meet such kind people.”  At the sight of Nick turning his head towards the window with a small pout, Matt laughs softly and looks down, a single hand coming up to his face to rub his eyes. 

“Awh, Nick.” Chris chuckles. 

“I don't wanna hear it. Can we go now? I’m hungry.” Nick asks as he crosses his arms over his chest, his gaze staying fixated on the tattoo shop down the street. 

“We’re not gonna get a tattoo reveal?” Matt questions, a fake hurtful expression spreading across his face as he reaches for the gear shift.  

“I’ll show you guys when we get home. I don’t feel like tossing my leg on the center console like it’s a piece of raw meat and risk pulling something. I already walk fucking crooked as hell, I don’t wanna lose a leg and fuck up my walking even more.” 

Both Matt and Chris immediately dissolve into hysterical laughter at the older’s statement. The younger of the two bends forwards, loud laughter spewing from his lips like honey. Matt on the other hand bends his head down and rubs his eyes with both his hands, his mouth slightly wide as softer laughter falls from his lips. 

“He said raw meat.” Chris says through laughter, tilting his head to look over at Matt. 

“Fucking kid.” Matt giggles. 

“It’s literally not that funny. I seriously don’t understand how I can make you guys laugh that hard.” Nick says, confusion taking over his features as he finally turns his head to send judgemental looks to his two younger brothers. 

“You’re just a funny guy, Nick.” Chris says as he finally sits up right, a few giggles still escaping his lips as he wipes away the fake tears at his eyes. Nick raises an eyebrow at the male and shakes his head with a soft sigh before leaning back against his chair. 

“I think the correct term is silly, Chris.” Matt corrects the younger as he drops one of his hands from his face. 

“Matt…” Nick mumbles in pure disbelief as he pinches the bridge of his nose. “Don’t. Just don’t.” 

As Matt raises his hands up in surrender, Chris laughs softly and lands a few hits to his shoulder. 

“That’s fucking terrible.” Chris laughs, his eyes squinting as he doubles over in laughter yet again. A proud smile spreads across Matt’s lips as he pulls the gear shift down to reverse. As the male proceeds to pull out of the parking spot, the car fills with comfortable silence, occasional giggles coming from Chris as he scrolls through his Instagram feed. 

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:· TagList ·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:·

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click here if you’d like to be added to the list !

[colonelarr0w]

jjk megumi pinning us to a wall and drunk confessing!!!!

#loveyou!!

Sypnosis - Read above request.

Warning(s) - None besides alcohol consumption.

! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !

"Itadori! Have you seen Fushiguro around? I've been looking for him," you say worriedly, silently grabbing onto Itadori's arm and lightly tugging him closer to you, your lips ghosting over his ear so that he could hear you clearly over the too-loud music.  

The pink-haired male turns to you, eyes narrowing before his gaze quickly flicks over the entirety of the room – a silent search for the unaccounted for Fushiguro. He shakes his head, his eyes returning to you, irises softening at the worried look that passes over your face.  

"I haven't. But the last I saw of him, he was at the bar getting himself and Kugisaki something to drink," Itadori admits, frowning as you release his arm, turning your body halfway so that you can get a better look at the bar.  

You smile at him in thanks before weaving your way through the crowd, muttering out "excuse me's" and "pardon me's" as you walk to the bar, leaning against it and peering around in search of Fushiguro, hoping that maybe you had just overlooked him by accident.  

But the bar is occupied by random people that you don't know, none of them are Fushiguro. An exasperated sigh leaves your parted lips as you turn from the bar, leaning your back against it and scanning the dance floor.  

In the center is Kugisaki, hand-in-hand with Maki and dancing to the upbeat music played by the DJ, who occasionally yells into his microphone to keep the club in full swing. Your lips turn upward in a smile as you continue to allow your gaze to wander about the club.  

Finally, you spot that familiar tuft of jet-black hair halfway across the club, haphazardly holding onto a half-empty glass and leaning against one of the booths – one occupied by Yuuta and Inumaki. You find yourself smiling, making your way through the crowd and approaching the booth.  

"Fushiguro!" You lift a hand to wave as you move closer to the booth, not failing to notice the gentle pink hue that coats Fushiguro's cheeks – it makes you wonder just how much he had to drink. You hadn't expected him to drink so much, especially considering that he had warned both Itadori and Kugisaki to "take it easy" before any of the four of you had stepped into the club. 

He turns to you, stumbling on his feet and placing down the glass that he had been holding, not caring about the high-pitched clink that it makes from how roughly he had set it down. "(Y/N)?" 

You giggle lightly, catching him as he walks over to you, hands on his arms to steady him. His eyes flicker up to meet your own, narrowing in order to decipher just who you were before his lips purse. You lift your hand, brushing away a few strands of hair that had fallen over his forehead.  

"Yeah, it's me. Why don't we get you some water?" you offer, steering Fushiguro to sit across from Inumaki, then looking around for a waiter who could give you the water that Fushiguro definitely needs.  

The raven-haired man shakes his head, fingers clasping around your wrist and tugging you clumsily to the dance floor. You follow, allowing yourself to be dragged around by Fushiguro, though you're definitely confused by his spike in boldness.  

"C'mon," Fushiguro mumbles, his voice completely drowned out by the booming music playing over the club's many speakers. Your eyes narrow in confusion as Fushiguro stops just at the edge of the dance floor – located near the back of the club itself.  

You tilt your head curiously at Fushiguro, his hands now settled on your hips, fingers lightly squeezing you. Your cheeks flush, shocked at the sudden contact — Fushiguro had never been this direct with anyone let alone you for that matter. 

“Megumi?” you inquire, glancing down at the pale hands that hold onto your waist as if you would vanish into thin air should his grip loosen. “Are you okay?” 

“M’fine,” he slurs, swallowing the growing lump in his throat as his head drops to the junction between your collarbone and shoulder. “Jus’ wanna be near you.” 

You flush from head to toe, feeling your entire body light aflame as Fushiguro pulls you impossibly closer, his grip only tightening around you. You can hear your heart thumping in your ears, pulsating in a way that is borderline uncomfortable.  

“Here, let’s go outside,” you say quietly, linking your fingers with Fushiguro’s and leading him to the back entrance of the bar. You push the door open, sighing thankfully as the cold night air licks at your skin like an excited dog — contrasting greatly with the stuffiness inside the bar itself.  

Slowly, you lower Fushiguro to sit on one of the small wooden chairs that the bouncer must’ve left outside. You sit down cross-legged on the chair beside Fushiguro, bravely leaning your head against his leg as he remains quiet, simply staring out at the busy road that the back of the bar faces.  

“I love you y’know,” Fushiguro says bluntly, not reacting even as you swivel to face him, a look of shock passing over your face at his blatant confession. You stare silently at him, wanting to see if he would continue without you prompting conversation — and continue he does.  

“Jus’ everything about you; your smile, your eyes, your demeanor, everything,” Fushiguro finally turns to look at you, staring silently into your awestruck eyes. Your lips tremble, struggling to decide whether they should turn upward in a smile or downward into a frown (likely because you thought that Fushiguro was bullshitting you).  

“And I want you to be mine (Y/N). And I want to … to be yours,” Fushiguro says, reaching a hand over and lacing his fingers with your own, squeezing. “Please.” 

Chuckling gently, you return the affectionate squeeze of his fingers, leaning up and pressing a fleeting kiss to Fushiguro’s cheek. He stills, watching as you rest back on your legs, keeping your gaze locked with his own.  

“Let’s sleep on it, then we’ll talk, yeah?” 

Fushiguro nods, closing his eyes and smiling at the lingering warmth that your lips left behind. “Yeah … okay.”  

[hellfirenacht]

Wing Man Part 8

Fic Summary: Steve 'the Hair' Harrington is your best friend, and is constantly striking out. Sick of this, you two make a deal; you'll wing man for each other. Hooking Steve up with dates is easy, but he finds himself struggling to find you a date. At least, until Dustin starts talking about his new cool friend Eddie.

(1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9)

Chapter Summary: Eddie explains himself, and you two make plans to hang out on purpose.

5.7k Words

a/n: Sorry I haven't been updating! I swear, I'm almost always thinking about this fic but I've been trying to figure out where to go with it. I'm started to see how I want to shape the story (over 40k words in, go figure). Thank you all so much for your patience!

Also, I've had a lot of people ask me about Paige and have shown interest in what happened between her and Eddie. She is actually from Eddie's prequel novel, Flight of Icarus! I'll still explain bits and pieces during the story, but I highly recommend reading the novel for the full context. I am trying to write this in a way you don't need to read FoI, but it does give extra context to the story.

Anyway, we continue.

Aside from the mixtape playing in the van, it was surprisingly quiet between you and Eddie. Despite his eagerness to show up and take you out, now that you were sitting in his passenger side seat again, he had no idea what to do next. The sound of Iron Maiden was rumbling through the van, crackling through the old speakers. 

It wasn’t often that Eddie was at a loss for words or couldn’t come up with something to say. After embracing his role in the Hawkins High ecosystem as the resident loudmouth freak he could always come up with something to say to break the ice or cause a ruckus. 

But, being loud wasn’t exactly a substitution for actual charisma. He could hold the attention of his Hellfire Club during the game, and keep them safe enough from most bullies even. But intimidation was different than... whatever the hell he was supposed to be doing here. Flirting? That seemed right. He knew he should be trying to flatter you or compliment you or do something to show that he had an interest in you. 

“So,” you were the one to break the silence between the two of you. “What have you been up to for the past two weeks?”

Eddie know what you actually meant was “What the fuck, man?” which was a really fair question. 

“I should have called you sooner.” It was best to go ahead and rip the bandaid off now and get this conversation out of the way. “I’m sorry, I wanted to but I couldn’t.”

“Why not?” you asked, leaning against the passenger side door as you looked at him. Despite your eagerness to get out of Family Video with him, he could see that you weren’t going to just let him not explain why he hadn’t talked to you. Not that he was going to leave you hanging like that anyway. 

“My phone blew up.” Eddie said bluntly. 

“Your phone blew up? Like... actually exploded?” you asked, trying to see if he was fucking with you. 

“Remember that huge storm a few weeks ago? Turns out that old trailers don’t exactly have the best wiring sometimes so when lightning strikes it knocks out power for a few days and fries some important wires.” he explained. “So... yeah, we just got a new phone today and when I tried to call...”

“So, I didn’t answer my phone so you decided to track me down?” There was amusement in your voice which he took as a good sign. “Seems like you could have done that part earlier. I’m not hard to find.” 

“I’m not exactly interested in stalking.” Eddie snorted. “I’m already on enough people's shitlist in town.”

“Oh, you’re no fun.” you laughed. “You know where I live, you could have shown up at my doorstep in the rain or used random phones around town to leave weird messages about how you can’t stop thinking about me or sent me letters with cryptic meanings.”

“Where do you come up with these things?” Eddie laughed, feeling the tension between the two of you start to dissipate. 

“I read a lot of bodice-ripper books.” you shrugged. “Trashy romance novels are a guilty pleasure sometimes.” 

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a weirdo?” 

“Steve did about an hour ago when I suggested that Bozo the clown could be the shit out of Pennywise from It.” 

Eddie wasn’t sure what he expected you to say, but it wasn’t that. Every time you had shown up in his life, you had completely thrown him off. He was starting to suspect that no amount of “Munson Magic” was going to work on you. Not that he wanted to work his dad’s charm on you to begin with. 

What he really wanted to do at that moment was ask you about your little bet with Steve. No, wait, not a bet. A deal? Maybe he should have asked Dustin more questions, or at least waited until after Hellfire to talk to the kid- 

”So what’s the plan?” You broke through his thoughts once again. “You show up out of nowhere and have me get into your unmarked van to take me to a second location... is there a second location in mind?”

There wasn’t, Eddie really hadn’t thought that far ahead.He’d panicked after his talk with Wayne and had shown up to Family Video on the chance that you’d been there. He’d run straight out the door with every intention of finding you and let you know that he was stupid for not trying harder to call you before. 

”I figured we could just... drive.” He wished he could ignore the sudden parallel between you and Paige. He wished that he could just forget about what happened in ‘84. Fuck, him and Paige never even had an official date, only hooking up in his van for a few weeks before everything blew up. 

Wait, was this a date? Crap, that had been the plan right? Show up, ask you on a date and then... then he’d be on a date. What the FUCK was he actually doing? He was acting so fucking awkward now- everything had been easier before. Why did Dustin have to open his big mouth about this?

“Just driving sounds great.” you said, and Eddie once again tried to relax. Every girl he had been with had wanted something from him. Nicole Summers and Cass Finnigan just wanted bragging rights that they got with the freak, and Paige had wanted him to be a rock hero. What did you want from him?

“Have you eaten?” It wasn’t exactly late, but it wasn’t really early in the evening either. His uncle always asked him that whenever one of them got home, and it had taken Eddie an embarrassingly long time to realize that it was Wayne’s way of showing that he cared. 

“I could eat.” you replied, which at least gave this... whatever this was, some structure for the night. Eddie didn’t have a lot of cash on him, but he could probably scrape together enough to get you each a burger or something. 

When the Iron Maiden tape clicked off and spat itself out, you took it upon yourself to pull it out and look it over. “Got any other tapes in here? I need to judge your music taste.” 

That made Eddie laugh “You and every other person in this town. I have a few more tapes in here.” He tapped on the center console which you eagerly dug into, flipping through the different cassettes with eagerness. 

“Metal. Metal. Metal. Metal.” You said, going through each cassette one by one. “I’m starting to see a pattern here, Eddie.” 

“What gave it away?” He said deadpan. “Was it that I play guitar or the fact that we’ve only bonded over music so far?”

“And Chris Morrison.”

“And Chris Morrison.”

“It was your hair, actually. You look so much like Eddie Van Halen it’s actually uncanny.” You looked up from the tapes and he could feel your eyes studying his face. He was glad that it was dark out now, as he could feel warmth rising in his cheeks at the comparison. Was that a compliment? Were you into him looking like Van Halen? 

“Van Halen?” Eddie asked. “I figured I was more of a Kirk Hammett type.”

“The hair yes,” you agreed, still staring at his face as he continued to drive. “But your smile is definitely more Van Halen.”

When was the last time someone had ever looked at him with that much consideration before? Something in Eddie’s gut twisted as he glanced over at you for a split second to meet your eyes. Huh, that was weird. Had anyone made him nervous like this before? Yeah he’d been attracted to Paige but this was starting to feel different. 

He really needed a cigarette right about now. 

“I hope that’s a compliment.” Eddie managed to say as he fumbled for the packet of Camels in the cupholder by him. 

“Oh, it is. I promise.” you replied, digging out a lighter and helping him light the smoke in his mouth. The world's tiniest supernova...

Eddie hated that the closest thing he had to compare notes on when it came to a healthy romance was two months with Paige and a handful of movies that he barely watched. 

You went back to his tapes, and seemed to pick one out. You removed the tape that had been spat out, put it back in the appropriate case (which Eddie found himself appreciating), and he was surprised to hear the old riffs of Muddy Waters playing. 

“A palate cleanser.” you said, leaning back into the passenger side seat. 

Eddie felt his mind reeling from your choice of music. Muddy Waters had been how his mom introduced him to rock at a young age. The two of you sat in silence for a few minutes, listening to the well loved tape as he pulled into the drive in of the next fast food joint he’d seen. 

When he pulled up to the window to pay, a fresh ten was shoved in his face before he could even reach for his own wallet. It took a moment for him to realize that you were wanting to pay. 

“You got me out of work early, it’s the least I can do.” you said, not giving him the option to say no as cash was exchanged for a bag of questionable but cheap food. You held the bag in your lap as Eddie started making his way out of town. 

“So is this an ‘eating van’ or a ‘non-eating van’?” you asked, messing with the top of the bag. 

“I think I’d starve if I didn’t eat in here.” Eddie snorted. “Knock yourself out.”

You wasted no time digging into the fries and taking a few for yourself as Eddie went to the only place that he could afford to take you right now that might be date worthy. 

Luckily, Lover’s Lake was quiet and private on weeknights. If Eddie had taken two minutes to plan this better, he would have thought to maybe clear out the back of his van and set out a blanket and have a picnic. When it came to music and D&D he was great at planning out details, with dates? Not so much. 

This isn’t a date. He reminded himself for the hundredth time tonight. She’s just a girl that you ran over to spend time with the second it occurred to you that she might have an interest in you and she really willingly hopped in your van and your friends actually like her-

Shit. This had to be a date right? Neither of you had said the word but that’s what it was... right? 

Eddie was snapped out of his thoughts with the sweet smell of hot potatoes and grease was wafting under his nose. You had shoved a few fries in front of his face and Eddie wasted no time in taking them. You continued to absently feed him fries as he found a spot to park.

The two of you divided up the food on his dashboard, and Eddie rolled down the windows to let the cool autumn air in. 

“So... what are you gonna be for Halloween?” Eddie asked, wincing internally. When was the last time anyone he knew had dressed up for Hallowen? Okay, so Hellfire Club did tend to dress up on Halloween for a special one shot but that was different- no one came to school in costumes anymore.

“It depends on my plans.” you answered. “Halloween is on a Thursday so I’m usually working. If I have a morning shift I’ll probably do zombie makeup for work, if Steve and Robin are working with me that day I think we’re gonna attempt to be Luke, Leia, and Hans.” 

“And are you gonna be Leia?” Eddie asked. 

“Ideally, I wanted to be Chewie but I don’t have the time for that.” you laughed. “Robin and I voted on Steve to Be Leia. Robin will be Luke, and I’ll be Hans Solo with a teddy bear.”

“Please tell me that Harrington isn’t going to be in the bikini.” Eddie laughed. 

“Keith said costumes had to be work appropriate so, sadly, Steve will not be gracing the store with his sweater-vest chest hair under a bra.” You sighed dramatically. “It’s like he hates the idea of us having fun!” 

“What if you have to close?” Eddie prompted, adjusting in his seat to lean against the door to face you as best he could. Next time he was absolutely clearing out the back to give you both more room. 

“Oh, I am not closing.” you said firmly. “And if Keith thinks he can schedule me that day he can suck it because I have plans.” 

You already have Halloween plans. Of course you would. It’s not like you had to worry about school on a weekday like he did. Eddie tried not to deflate in front of you and remained calm. 

“And what plans would that be?” he asked. 

“Have you ever seen The Rocky Horror Picture Show?” you asked, a smile tugging at your lips. 

He had, once, with Reefer Rick a few months ago when picking up his usual supply. A quick pick up had turned into a game of pool, which had turned into the two of them high on Rick’s couch watching an old VHS tape while Rick laughed his ass off and yelled at the tv before passing out in the middle of Tim Curry seducing Brad and Janet. 

“Once.” Eddie said, not giving the exact details of circumstance. “With a friend, I didn’t really get it.” 

“Did you see it in theaters or did you just watch it at home?” you asked, finishing off your food. 

“Friend’s house.” 

“Oh, no wonder you didn’t get it. Rocky Horror is an experience, you can’t just pop the tape in and watch it. You have to come see it in a theater.” As you spoke you were absently folding a napkin in your lap turning it into what looked like a heart. When you were done with that one, you started with another shape with a different napkin. 

“Is that an invitation?” Eddie asked, tearing his eyes away from the way your fingers moved for now. He found his heart pounding in his chest, unsure if you were actually wanting him to come to this, and from the knot forming in his stomach as the shapes you were folding reminded him of the times he met you before. 

“It is.” you confirmed, the ninja star you had shaped with the napkin was placed on the center console as you grabbed another napkin. “...It could also be a date.” 

Despite the period at the end of the sentence, Eddie heard the slight waiver in your voice on the word date. It was that same nervous stammer that had been in Paige’s voice when she offered to let him move in with her in California, it was the same hesitant inflection that one of his Hellfire players used when they weren’t sure if Eddie would approve of what crazy plan they had for their character. 

Aside from that first awkward meeting at the Palace Arcade, you had been pretty confident and upfront with him. Now here you are, laying out your intentions and seeing what he would do. 

What would he do? Eddie had shown up at Family Video with no real plan. He only knew he wanted to see you again, and he knew that Dustin and Steve were trying to set you two up. And it’s not like Eddie was completely against the idea of going on a date with you. You were sharp, and you kept him on his toes, and when you smiled at him it felt like his brain might short out. 

But he had also panicked when he had thought that you were going to kiss him before. After Eddie’s disastrous break up with Paige two years ago, it’s not like he’d been completely against any physical relationships. There had been a grand total of two other hook ups that he’d sabotaged. People weren’t interested in getting to know the freak, they just wanted to say that they had been with him. So both times, Eddie had made sure that he’d been a lousy date and a decent enough lay before deciding that he’d rather had a date with his right hand and a Heavy Metal magazine.

Eddie would rather the rumor mill call him a boring date rather than set a standard that he’d go out with anyone who asked. He wondered if he had, would Steve have put his name on the town marquis for the world to see? Would Eddie ‘the Slut’ Munson be treated any differently than Eddie ‘the Freak’?

Shit, you were still waiting for a response. 

“A date.” Eddie finally managed to echo your last words back at you. The napkin you had been messing with in your hands was now taking the shape of a ninja star. 

“I mean, if you’re interested.” you said quickly. “It could just be a friend thing. Or you probably already have plans for Halloween-”

“I don’t.” Eddie interjected. “It could be a date.”

He watched your shoulders relax and you smiled up at him. “It’s a date then.” You grabbed a napkin and your green marker out of your bag and scribbled something down, handing it over to him. 

“In case your phone blows up again, here is the date and time and location for the Halloween showing of the movie.” your eyes narrowed slightly at him. “And my work schedule has been hectic but I consistently work on Sunday’s and clock out at four.”

Eddie got the message loud and clear, he would know where to find you now. There wouldn’t be any excuses for not reaching out, but two could play at this game. He took the marker from your hand and grabbed his own napkin, scribbling his own phone number down and handing it over to you. 

“I’m at school all week, but I still play at the Hideout on Tuesdays.” He answered back. “Friday is Hellfire.”

With that, the playing field felt a little more level. Both of you now had the power to track the other one down or call when needed.   

“So what are you going to be for Halloween?” you asked, tucking the napkin with his number into your bog. 

“Oh, haven’t you heard? When you’re the town freak every day is Halloween.” Eddie chuckled. 

“So what, you’re gonna put on a polo and khakis instead?” He liked the way you scrunch your nose when you laughed. “Ditch the jewelry and cover your tattoos?” 

“That would probably scare some of the teachers at school.” Eddie had considered doing exactly that, but he really didn’t think he’d want that kind of attention. “No one dresses up at school anymore.”

“Boring.” You sighed. “I tried dressing up for Halloween my senior year but when I got to school my friends convinced me to change clothes.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow. “You don’t seem like the type to let other people tell you what to do.” 

“Now I’m not.” you shrugged. “I’m not in high school anymore, and all those people that I saw everyday? Turns out I was only friends with them because I saw them every day. Once you get away from that forced routine you realize that it’s all bullshit.”

Eddie could relate, probably better than anyone else. He was so sick of the day to day hierarchy of highschool that he’d scream it from on top of a table. Literally. 

“What were you trying to be before your friends killed your fun?” Eddie asked. 

“A pirate. It was last minute but I had a bandana, an eyepatch, a sock puppet with feathers glued to it for my parrot, and a wire hanger I was carrying around as a hook.” you laughed at the memory. “I ended up dropping the eyepatch before my friends made me change because I kept running into people. My wire hanger was confiscated, some asshat stole my parrot, and one of my friends gave me a sweater to change into. I didn’t even make it to first period in that outfit.”

Eddie had made it a point to not pay attention to anyone outside of his small group at school, only ever keeping an eye out for lost sheep that didn’t have anywhere else to go. He wondered, if he had seen you that morning in the brief window before you were pushed back into conformity would he have noticed you? Talked to you? You had already been nice to him before. 

“Wait,” Eddie over at you, taking in the picture you had painted for him. “You made a sock puppet parrot?”

“I needed a parrot, or else no one would get it!” you explained. “But then when I took it off and left it to go use the bathroom it was gone. I finally found the thief in fourth period because they kept playing with it and squawking my own parrot at me. But by that point I had just cut my losses and had given up on Halloween.”

“Are you usually this crafty?” Eddie asked, once again looking at the final napkin you were folding into what looked like an old cootie catcher. 

“I get bored easily.” you said. “If I don’t have something to do with my hands I can’t focus.”

“How’d you start with the whole-” Eddie grabbed one of his slightly used napkins and gave it a wave. “Folding thing?”

“Fourth grade show and tell.” you said. “I did not prepare anything and so I spent a full ten minutes in the school library to find something to show. I found a book on origami, found the easiest thing to make and realized that I actually enjoyed it.”

If that was a mystery, it sure did get solved right there. Eddie wanted to ask about Steve and Dustin. He wanted to ask you why him? He could keep his mouth shut, let this whole thing play out and see what happened. Eddie could sit here, and enjoy the fact that a girl was giving him the time of day and leave everything up in the air just like he had with Paige. 

“So I heard you and Steve had a deal going on.” Eddie said. “Something about getting dates?”

You froze for a second, the completed cootie catcher in your hands. Things were dead silent for a grand total of ten seconds. Ten agonizingly long seconds. Even the cassette player had clicked off and was now whirring as it rewind the Iron Maiden tape. 

Then you started laughing. A lot. 

“Jesus, Eddie!” you said, wiping your eyes with the ninja star as a tear threatened to spill down your cheek. “I tell you I have origami as a hobby, and you follow up with ‘So I heard you and Steve are trying to get dates.’ Seriously?”

Eddie remained silent at your reaction, trying to process your laughter. You didn’t seem scared or nervous that he had called you out, and he had to admit that he hadn’t completely thought through the consequences of asking you that question. 

“Who blabbed?” You asked, after your laughter had calmed down. 

“Henderson.” Eddie admitted and, in an attempt to ease any lingering tension he leaned forward to rest his elbow on the center console and held his chin in his hand as he looked at you. “That shrimp informed me that you found me so irresistible that you begged Steve to set you up with me.”

“Is that right?” You asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“Oh yeah,” Eddie agreed. “Told me all about how ever since Chris Morrison shot you down, you’ve been desperate to get my attention to get back at him.”

“So which is it, am I attracted to you or am I using you to get back at a guy I talked to once in high school years ago?” you asked. Eddie saw a glint in your eyes, the same one he’d seen that first night at the arcade when at the air hockey table. 

“Both are true.” Eddie continued to explain, a shit eating grin on his face. “You see, you were originally going to use me to get back at Chris, but then you saw me play guitar and instantly fell in love.”

“Damn, this sounds like the plot of a terrible movie.” you laughed. “So is this the part where I tell you that ‘It started out like that, but I swear it’s not like that anymore!’? Do I beg on my knees that my feelings for you are genuine, even though we’ve hung out a grand total of two-and-a-half times?”

Five times, but who’s counting? 

“What’s the half-time?” Eddie asked. 

“You ditched me at the arcade after I said I’d be right back.” you stated matter-of-factly. “I’m hoping it’s not a pattern where you start dropping off the face of the earth just when things start getting good.”

“Between you and me,” Eddie leaned in closer. “I thought Dustin was trying to set me up with Steve. Not you.” 

Cue more laughter from you as you threw your head back. “Are you kidding me?! Dustin makes me and Steve show up to an arcade and tries to force a meeting with you- and you thought you were supposed to be dating Steve?!” 

“Not dating!” Eddie clarified quickly. “You see, Steve and I only have one thing in common and that’s Dustin Henderson. Kid practically worships Steve. I thought he was trying to get us to be friends or something.”

“Oh my god, you thought Dustin was trying to hook his two dads up!” Your cootie catcher was now crumpled up in your hands, stained with tears from your laughing. “I’m a homewrecker!” 

Yeah, this really wasn’t going the way Eddie had expected it. 

“Shit, Eddie, I’m sorry.” you said, your laughter calming down into giggles instead. “Have I been reading this whole thing wrong? I mean, if you have more of an interest in Steve I could probably set that up. He’s only ever shown interest in girls but you have long hair and are pretty enough-”

“No.” Eddie said. “I don’t have an interest in Steve- you think I’m pretty?” How were you able to throw him off so easily? He could tell that if you had been able to join Hellfire you would have been a menace at his table.

“Extremely.” you said, your voice more sincere now. 

The two of you just stared at each other for a while and Eddie felt that same twisty feeling in his gut again. You thought he was pretty. That was good, right? Did you like pretty boys? You were pretty- he liked that a lot. 

“I...” Eddie started and then dug deep inside himself to find the words he wanted to use. “Prettier than Steve?” Those were not the words he wanted to say, but he said them anyway. 

“Steve is conventionally attractive but, as I said before, not my type.” you said. “I like guys with long hair anyway.”

Eddie really couldn’t tell if he was nailing this or blowing it. “So, what is your type?” 

“I’ll tell you mind if you tell me yours.” you countered. 

Had Eddie ever really thought about what his type was? Yeah, he’d had ill-advised crushes and had been attracted to various women in comics and tv but did he have a type? He tried to connect all the girls in his mind that he’d been with, trying to find a pattern. 

Someone who actually pays attention to me. That’s pretty sad, Eddie. He came to the conclusion. Yeah, aside from his disastrous kiss with Ronnie five years ago, every girl he’d been with had been the one to show interest first, and you were no exception. But had he actually had feelings for the others? Not really. Attraction? Yeah. Feelings? Well, with Paige he had been far too busy dealing with Corroded Coffin, his dad, and school to really decide what he felt for Paige. Any other small flings had been dead on arrival.

So why did he keep wanting to spend time with you?

“Don’t go spreading this around,” Eddie started. “But if I had to pick a type, it’d be She-Hulk.” 

“She-Hulk?” you mulled that over in your mind. “So tall, green, and angry?” 

“Strong-willed, and funny as shit.” Eddie corrected. 

“And green.”

“And green.” 

“If I had known that earlier I would have picked Kermit the Frog as my Halloween costume this year.” you teased. “I don’t have a character off the top of my head, but I like people who feel.. Real.”

Real. The word that Paige and him had used over and over in those two months. 

“What’s real to you?” 

“Not high school.” you said. “Someone who’s not afraid to exist and be themselves. I’m most attracted to anyone who can let go of their desperate ego and just have fun. High school was boring because everyone was so wrapped up in their own bs of looking cool that they didn’t do anything that they actually wanted to do. Shit, even I fell into that.”

Eddie didn’t want to ask if he was real to you. He wasn’t sure if he was ready for an answer. There were lots of times he wished that he wasn’t still in school, but this time really hit harder. He was starting to really like you, and yeah part of him was terrified of that. 

The two of you finished off the last of your food and Eddie shoved all the leftover trash into the brown bag and tossed it in the back so you wouldn’t be stepping on it. 

“I don’t know much about real anymore, but I think you’re pretty badass.” Eddie finally said. “I mean, you brought a wire hanger and a fake parrot to school for a costume. That’s pretty brave, even if your friends did talk you out of it.”

“I’m more mad that the parrot was stolen and used to annoy me than the lack of costume.” you said with a small laugh. “They weren’t even funny. They just kept repeating what I said. It was easier to just shut up at that point.” 

“Didn’t think to make them say anything embarrassing?” 

“Oh, I tried. But, jocks don’t know the art of a good ‘Duck Season, Rabbit Season’ gag. Anything embarrassing I said they’d just turn it around. I’d say ‘I pissed myself in gym.’ they’d reply with ‘you pissed yourself in gym’. No love for comedy.” You took a deep breath and let out a long sigh. “If you’re going to be a bully, at least give me a good story to tell later, you know?”

“I once got slammed against a locker by a jock who called me ‘a myriad freak.” Eddie said. “To this day, I still don’t know what he was trying to mean by that.”

“See? At least that’s funny.” you said, and then. “Holy shit, we’ve gotten off topic.” 

“There was a topic?” Eddie leaned back on the seat again. 

“Yes, an important one that I was very interested in before we started talking about bullies and high school and She-Hulk.” you nodded. 

Talking to you was so easy that he hadn’t realized how many topics the two of you had blown through in a short amount of time. He looked at his watch real quick and realized it was creeping towards 11 pm now. Had the two of you really been talking that long?

“What topic was it?” 

“You flirting with me.” you said, your lips pulling back in a cheshire grin. “I’m pretty sure you were at least, before I became a homewrecker between you and Steve. Normally I’d hate to break up a happy family, but I might have to make an exception this one time.”

“Was I flirting?” Eddie tilted his head with his own grin. “I’m pretty sure I was just telling you that I thought Dustin was trying to make me be friends with Steve. If I had known that the shrimp was trying to introduce me to a cute girl-” He would have shot it down and canceled Side Quest Day- “I wouldn’t have left the way I did.”

“You think I’m cute?” 

“Extremely.” 

You nodded. “Alright, then it’s a good thing that we’re going on a date. I’m glad to know that I’m not coming between you and Steve.”

It was just past midnight when Eddie dropped you off at your apartment that night. This time when you leaned over the center console towards him, he didn’t freeze up or panic. Eddie let you hug him and he hugged you back, his cheeks growing hot momentarily when he felt your lips press against his cheek and he was able to breathe in your scent. 

“See you later, Eddie. Oh, and for the movie- I highly recommend dressing up.” you looked him up and down. “Actually, just wear what you’d normally wear. I think you’ll fit right in.” 

Eddie made a mental note to ask Rick later on what he was supposed to wear for this. 

“I’ll call you.” he said. “I promise. I mean it this time.”

“Not if I call you first, I have your number now. And worst case scenario, I know where you play.” you responded. “See you Tuesday, Eddie.” 

And with that you were gone again, leaving Eddie alone in the van feeling much better than the last time he had given you a ride. There were still questions he had. He still wanted to know why exactly everyone was wanting the two of them to meet again, and why you always so readily agreed to meet up with him. But those were questions for another day. 

“You had a missed call.” Wayne said as Eddie made his way into the trailer. “Didn’t leave a name or number. Said she’d call you back.”  

Eddie laughed and shook his head, guess you meant it when you said you’d call first. 

“Don’t stay up too late watching tv.” Eddie said before heading towards his bedroom. He once again found himself falling asleep with his copy of The Hobbit, the origami flower tucked safely in the back. 

Next Chapter

Ending note: This fic takes place during October 1985. Stephen King’s It did not come out until September 1986. I would like to ask you all politely to suspend your disbelief for the historical inaccuracy of a piece of dialogue that probably didn’t add much to the plot. If this horrible inaccuracy bothers you, please repeat to yourself “it’s just a fic, I should really just relax” which is what most of us should be doing anyway.

Dividers by: @strangergraphics

Tag List: @k8loo @terrormonster55 @sp1dyb0y1008 @crocwork-clockodile @ali-r3n @mxcheese @josephquinnschesthair @gagasbee @peaches-roses-sins @witchwolflea @vintagehellfire @royale1803 @cumslutforaemond @prestinalove @browneyedgirl320 @perpetualmess @thebook-hobbit @mistonk @cultish-corner @grishaversecaptivated @sortagaysortahigh @halialex1119 @bakugouswhOr3 @siriuslysmoking @pookiesnatcher @sky-full-0f-fl0wers @takemetoneverlandbabe @killjoynotes @maelibo

[blackhairedjjun]

second chance encounters

pairing: choi yeonjun x gn!reader | genre / tropes: slight fluff, acquaintances to ???, university -> working adult au, nostalgia & slice of life vibes | word count: 3.6k | warnings: alcohol, some profanity, work-related burnout

summary: it's been a year since you graduated from university, and it always seemed like life had different plans for you and for the resident dance crew heartthrob, choi yeonjun. that is, until you run into him by chance after work.

author's notes: hello! this is one part of a fic idea that has been stirring in my brain for the LONGEST time - i wanted a very slice of life fic about adult life and growing up, and for the longest time i tried over and over to write it. but it was hard especially since it involved such personal feelings and experiences and i wanted to capture it just right. but i managed to get this part out, and once i'm less busy i want to try writing a part 2 too. so here it is, i hope you enjoy!

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It was nearly midnight when you were finally let go from overtime duties at your job. You walked out of your building and, exhausted from staying up for so long, you plopped down on the curb in front of the entrance. At this hour you should try to get a cab home, but you wanted a moment to rest and regain your bearings first.

Despite the late hour, it wasn’t too dark outside; the streetlamps illuminated the sidewalks, and plenty of other office buildings still had windows with the lights on. Next to your building, a 24-hour convenience store was flooded in fluorescent lighting. Maybe you were lucky to have gotten out before midnight when plenty of others were still staying up. But with your eyelids drooping and your whole body feeling heavier than a slab of rock, calling yourself “lucky” felt like a stretch.

You spent the next few moments letting your attention drift, your eyes fluttering shut. You could still see the spreadsheets swimming in front of your vision, and you could still hear your boss’s voice urging you to keep up with the pace. “We won’t go easy on you just because you’re a junior. In fact, you should be working harder if you want to prove yourself.” 

Work harder... prove myself... The words were in your mind constantly, even when your body protested.

Your eyes snapped open for a moment and you spotted a tall man in a hoodie exiting the convenience store, plastic bag in hand, headed for a nearby parked car. Perhaps it was just your fatigue making you see things, but he looked familiar.

He turned his head in your direction and your eyes met. You watched his own eyes widen in recognition.

“Uh, excuse me一” he approached you, scratching his head, “did you perhaps go to...?”

He mentioned your university’s name.

You blinked and studied his face.

Of course. 

You had spoken to him only a handful of times before, but you still recognized the former captain of your university’s dance crew. Everyone at your major had known him.

“Choi Yeonjun...?”

一

Three years earlier

You swished around the beer in your plastic cup, watching the party scene unfold in front of you. The music blared from someone’s speakers, competing with the loud voices of your fellow university students shouting and laughing over each other, and tipsy students nearly stumbled into one another as they tried to reach the cooler for more drinks. All the while you leaned against the far wall of the common room, taking small sips of your beer, glancing around now and then for a sign of your roommate.

Still nowhere.

She’s probably playing a drinking game with one of her friends, you thought, or in another room making out with that guy from the dance crew. You sighed and drained the last of your beer, but made no move to refill it. The room was full of people you didn’t know or barely knew, their faces vaguely familiar from some common classes you shared with them, and you didn’t have the courage to talk to them. None of them paid you any notice either, instead staying close by the friends they already knew.

You had hoped that your roommate would at least be polite and introduce you to some friends you could stay with, but she had left your side as soon as you both entered the party. You sighed.

Just them a tall man in a baseball cap blocked your view.

He was clearly drunk, from the way his face was flushed red, and blinked a few times at you. You recognized him as a classmate from your literature elective, though you couldn’t remember his name.

“Do I... know you?” he slurred, blinking again. A small spark of hope rose in your chest.

“Yeah, we’re actually一”

He threw his head back and started laughing, nearly dropping the beer bottle he was holding. You tried to speak but he only laughed more. “Ah, what am I saying... who are you... hah...”

Your heart sank.

“Hey, you’re bother 一 you’re bothering them... that’s not nice...”

Another man appeared at your classmate’s side, nudging him. You could he that he was also tipsy from his pink-tinted cheeks and the way he stumbled over his words, but he seemed to have enough sense to stop his friend. He too looked familiar, but you weren’t not sure from where.

“I’m not boooothering,” your drunk classmate whined.

“Heh, okay you’re not... let’s just hang somewhere else...”

He squeezed his drunk friend’s shoulder, which seemed to divert his attention; he turned around to leave the room. The man then turned to look at you and you swore that he was properly looking, not just staring with his eyes glazed over from the alcohol.

“Hi...” He let out a little giggle. Cute. 

“Um... hi?”

“Sorry ‘bout that... we won’t bother you... have fun.”

“It’s okay...”

He stood there for a few moments, smiling at you. It was just a lopsided smile from tipsiness, but you couldn’t help the flutter you felt in your chest.

Then, as if awakened out of nowhere, he snapped to his senses. He waved at you, letting out a shy “bye!”, then turned around to follow his friend. You watched his back as he nearly stumbled over the couch and disappeared into a room at the side, and for the first time that night, you smiled.

It took a few moments, but you finally remembered why that man was so familiar: He was a prodigy member of the dance crew, the one that had won countless competitions against other dance crews from different universities. He was only a sophomore and already he was turning heads. Of all the members of that award-winning roster, he was said to be the best one.

His name, you recalled, was Choi Yeonjun.

一

You sat in the passenger seat of Yeonjun’s car with your hands folded on your lap. A jazz-pop playlist was playing from the car stereo, and you glanced over at your driver, who was humming along and drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. His posture was relaxed and he steered with one hand. As the song reached its final chorus, he broke out into full song, singing with such passion that his eyes and nose scrunched up.

Maybe it was a bad idea to accept a car ride from someone you barely knew, but it was certainly a better option than remaining seated and half-asleep on the curb in front of your office building. Besides, you had heard nothing but good things about Yeonjun during your stay in university. You had been classmates with a few dance crew members and they always spoke of him with a tone of admiration.

The song came to an end just as the car stopped at a red light. At this hour, there were hardly any cars on the intersection. Yeonjun turned towards you and smiled.

“I haven’t seen you in ages,” he said.

“Me too.” You fought your tiredness to manage a smile.

“It’s so good to see a familiar face. I just moved here a few weeks ago.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” He tilted his head at you and licked his lips, thinking of what to say. “I actually got back from visiting my parents... I had to pick up some of my stuff there to move to my new studio. Then I ended up having dinner with them, walking around, catching up, and well... I was hoping to be home by ten.” 

Your tired smile turned genuine at his story. “That sounds really nice, though. I visited my parents last month, so I get what you mean.”

“Mm, I miss them already.” The traffic light turned green and Yeonjun turned to face the road again; the car cruised past the buildings of the business district, the lights in some of their windows still on. “Hey, how long have you lived here?”

“Less than a year ago, I guess? Pretty much right after graduation. I got a good job offer so I moved here so that the commute would be a bit easier.”

“Yeah, that makes sense... hold on, the building I found you at...”

“Uh-huh?”

“You work at StarOne?”

You sighed. When you had first gotten the job offer, everyone around you had oohed and aahed, throwing compliments and congratulations your way 一 you had gotten a job at one of the biggest, most prestigious companies in the country. You had blushed and beamed at them and replied with Thank you and Oh my god, I’m so excited too. But it hadn’t even been a year since then, and now all you knew were hours of overtime and unhappy clients, rush projects and evaluations where your boss and his boss peeled back your pride layer by layer. You’re doing good, but we didn’t hire you for ‘good’, they would say. We’ve got dozens of other junior officers and even more applicants standing outside our doors, clamoring for the job that you have.

You took a deep breath and prepared yourself for the canned responses you had developed when asked about your job: Yes, I work at StarOne. The pay is fine. The hours are pretty long, I guess. It’s challenging. But at least I work at a good company.

But instead the car reached another red light and Yeonjun turned to look at you and his eyes softened, as if he had seen the exasperation you so often hid. “Oh... overtime?”

You nodded.

“Ah, sorry. You’re probably too tired to talk about work, huh?”

You nodded again.

He blushed and turned away for a moment. Then he reached to the passenger seat behind him, picked up a thick dark blue blanket, and handed it to you. “Ah, my bad, I shouldn’t have asked... Do you want to rest for a bit? You can sleep for the rest of the ride if you want. Don’t worry, the blanket’s clean.”

Your memory stirred and brought forth a moment three years ago, when you had first run into Yeonjun at a party. In your mind you saw the way he had squeezed your old classmate’s shoulder, keeping him from bothering you too much, and the way he had looked at you right after. You remembered feeling seen, as if he regarded you as an old friend.

The way Yeonjun looked at you now, blanket in hand, felt exactly the same.

“Oh... you didn’t have to.”

“Keep it in case you get sleepy.”

You took the blanket from him, his fingertips brushing yours as he handed it over, and unfolded it on your lap. When you looked back at him you couldn’t help the small smile forming on your lips.

“Thank you.”

He made sure to drive a little more slowly after that, but you could still hear him softly humming along to the songs on his playlist. The sound of his voice wrapped around you even more comfortably than the blanket. 

You closed your eyes to let your mind wander. Sleep didn’t come to you, but new thoughts did 一 thoughts of Yeonjun and what you had known about him from university. Though you had barely spoken to him, your social circles did overlap somewhat; you had been classmates with a few dance crew members, and a few of his friends had been in the same major as you. Every time his name was brought up, it was always in a positive light, whether it was him helping out a new dance recruit or inspiring the rest of the dance crew to work harder. Not once had you heard anyone speak ill of him.

Now you understood why.

一

Two years earlier

You watched the rain from the entrance of the campus arts building, its extended roof keeping you and several other students dry. Today the downpour was much better compared to previous days 一 you could actually see ahead of you, for one 一 but it was still bad enough that the endless drumming of the rain on rooftops filled your ears, and the pathway leading out of the building was a blur.

Still, you had a class in ten minutes and Professor Im had not made any announcement of cancellation. The sciences building was a short walk away but you needed all the time you could to get there and dry yourself off. Sighing, you fished your umbrella out of your bag and silently thanked your past self for remembering to pack it this time. With the push of a button (good thing you got one of those automatic ones) the umbrella opened, you held it up, and you hugged your bag more closely around your body to keep it dry. Here you go.

You had barely taken two steps out of the building when someone bumped against your side. Your umbrella shook, causing a few rain droplets to land on your head, but you barely felt them. Not while you were too busy staring in horror at the student who had bumped into you and was now running through the rain, not caring that they were getting soaked to the bone.

“HEY!”

You chased after them, your umbrella swaying as you ran through the pathway, shouting at the student to wait. You were no match for their pace 一 you could see that they had long legs 一 but they finally heard your shouts, slowed down, and turned to look at you.

Oh. Choi Yeonjun.

His hair was wet, with his bangs clinging to his forehead, and his hoodie was so drenched that it had turned from light grey to dark. He was still panting from his sprint and the dampness on his face was a mixture of rainfall and sweat.

You felt your face grow hot. Somehow offering to share an umbrella with someone you kind of knew was more embarrassing than doing it with a total stranger. But you were already here anyway and it seemed rude not to say anything.

“Uh, we can... share...”

You held the umbrella up above your head to accommodate his height and he laughed.

“You don’t have to,” he said. “I’m headed to the gym for dance practice, it might be too far.”

“It’s okay! I’ll take you!”

That was a lie. The gym was in the opposite direction from the science building. But you had perfect attendance in class so far, so you figured that one late mark wasn’t too much of a cost.

Yeonjun giggled and took the umbrella from you. His hands were soft as they brushed against yours. Your whole body felt warm despite the chill from the rain. “I’ll hold it for us then,” he said.

You smiled and moved closer to him. “Thank you.”

“Nah, I should be thanking you. Coach would’ve embarrassed me in front of the whole team for being late. And I told the new members last week not to be late! I would’ve looked like a dummy in front of them.”

He laughed again and you couldn’t help but laugh too. His walking pace was brisk but you didn’t mind, keeping up with him and listening to him talk about his dance practice. A whole other world within the university campus seemed to open up in front of you, one of competitions and prizes and prestige and a lot of blood, sweat, and tears. Yet there was an unmistakable gleam in Yeonjun’s eyes as he talked about the team’s new routine and the higher challenge level for it.

“We’ve only got a week left so we really can’t waste any time,” he said. “So... thank you. This helps a lot, really.”

The two of you were standing in front of the gym entrance. The rain had died down to a drizzle, and he lowered your umbrella. The walk from the arts building had felt like both an eternity and a moment.

You took the umbrella from him and his hands lingered on the handle before he let go.

“See you around,” he said. “Good luck with class.”

“Yeah, see you... good luck with practice.”

Yeonjun turned and sprinted into the gym, and you headed back to find the path to the science building. Not a single worry about being late bothered you, and you couldn’t help yourself from smiling.

一

Yeonjun’s GPS led him to a boxy apartment building. It was painted completely white, reflecting the light of a nearby streetlamp, which gave it a sterile glow. He pursed his lips; not the most homey place to live, he mused, but at least it looked well-kept.

He turned to you and found you asleep in the passenger seat, his blanked draped over your shoulders. Your chest rose and fell ever so slightly from your breaths, and your expression was completely calm. There was no trace of the undertones of stress he’d sensed when he had approached you; whatever worries you had about your job seemed to disappear in your dreams. 

Yeonjun lifted a hand to tap your shoulder awake, but he hesitated. A wave of relief overcame him, and for a moment he couldn’t help but admire your serene expression as you slept. You looked so... content. Had he ever seen you look that way? While he had crossed paths with you only a few times, you had always looked as if something was on your mind. He could still see it all in his memories: the loneliness in your posture when he approached you at the party, the nervousness in your eyes when you had offered your umbrella to him. He wondered what worries were always plaguing you, and if anything could be done to keep them away.

At least he had returned the favor for the umbrella incident, he thought. And it only took him two years.

His hand was still hovering over your shoulder when you awoke. You blinked a few times to chase the sleepiness away before turning your head to look at him. A small smile spread across your face and Yeonjun felt a flutter stirring in his chest.

“Are we home...?” Your voice was still hoarse with sleep.

“Just got here.” He smiled. “I can walk you to your door...”

“Mm, okay...”

Your apartment door wasn’t far up, only on the third floor. You had his blanket draped around you like a scarf, and Yeonjun carried your bag for you. He set it down beside your door, its black paint finish contrasting with the white walls, and waited for you to unlock it.

It was only when you pushed the door open that you noticed his blanket around your shoulders. You tugged it off and handed it to him.

“Oh, sorry, I forgot一”

“Keep it.” Then, feeling a little bold, he continued: “You can give it to me the next time we see each other.”

“Next time...?”

His smile faltered. Did you not want to see him again? Was he being too forward? Did he overestimate how much you remembered him? Why did he feel so keen on seeing you again in the first place?

“You don’t 一 you don’t have to.” He reached a hand to take the blanket. “Sorry, I was, I was just...”

But you regained your senses from your nap and beamed at him. The sight of it sent another fluttering feeling through Yeonjun’s chest.

“No, I mean... I was just surprised that you’d want to catch up, that’s all.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I... um. I do want to catch up with you, Yeonjun.”

“Great! Oh shit一” He clasped his hands over his mouth. His voice had come out a little too loud. “I mean, let’s work something out. I can give you my number...”

一

You had been lying in bed for fifteen minutes and you were still awake. You should be trying to sleep for another day of overtime tomorrow, but all you could think about was your drive home with Yeonjun.

You reached for your phone on your nightstand and looked at his contact for the fourth or fifth time since you’d shut the door behind you. He had saved his contact name as “jjunie” with a little fox next to it, and the sight of it made you chuckle.

Did this really happen? You thought of the few times you had run into each other, seemingly at random: his cute little “bye” as he clutched a beer, or his damp hair sticking to his forehead as he held onto your umbrella. His life felt tangential to yours, always passing by you, but never with you. And yet you were holding on to your phone with his number in it and an offer to see each other again.

You laughed again and set the phone down on the bed, on top of the blanket that he had lent you, and rolled to your side. It didn’t matter now, you mused. Old memories gave way to newer ones: his smile as he opened the passenger side of his car for you, his humming to a jazz tune as he waited at the intersection, his soft hands placing the blanket in yours. 

No matter how things had been back then, they were different now. Yeonjun would stick around in your life for a little while. You might even have a friend, and the thought consoled you as you finally drifted off to sleep.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Treat You 7

Warnings: dark elements, noncon, violence, abuse, other dark elements. Proceed with caution. (Tall!reader)

Note:Please let me know what you think as it helps me a lot with ideas and I love interacting with you all.

Part of The Club AU

When Peter returns, he’s not alone. You stand, feeling gangly as you hunch, as he introduces his friend; Ned. You offer a tense smile and your name. He’s friendly, like Peter, but still a stranger.

“Yo, Pete,” Ned approaches the TV, “why are we not racing for the mushroom cup right now?”

“Ned,” Peter drones.

“He’s a sore loser,” Ned scoffs as he grabs two colourful shapes; one red, another blue. As he nears, he holds one out to you. The buttons on it suggest some sort of controller. “So, how about it, you ready to dethrone the champ?”

“Take it easy on her, Ned,” Peter slides a tray of crackers and cheese between the bowls of chips.

“I’m sure she’s not half as bad as you.”

“Um, I never…” you take the controller and rub your lips together, “I’ve never played… actually.”

“Ah, a noob, no worries then,” Ned plops down on the couch, “we’ll play easy.”

“Oh, uh, okay, I guess, but er…” you look around, “if Peter wants to play–”

“Actually, I need to listen for the door,” Peter counters.

“Right,” you turn back to the TV and sit. You thumb the stick and examine the buttons as the loud music erupts from the speakers.

“So this one you can steer, or you can tilt the controller,” Ned explains, and you press this button to go…”

You try to keep track but you’re not too sure. It seems pretty intuitive. You think.

A new screen comes up and there’s an array of characters to choose from. You choose the princess in the yellow dress over the dinosaur. You wait for the first track to load as your hands sweat around the controller.

The first lap has you veering and crashing but on the second you get a handle of it. It’s not as hard as it seems. Your usual clumsiness doesn’t translate to the digital. You come in fifth. Not as bad as it could be.

As you wait for the second race, voices carry from behind you. You turn as two girls and a guy enter. Ned peeks over, “hey.”

“Hi,” one of the girls chimes back as she approaches, “oh, you must be the one Peter mentioned. I’m Gwen,” she announces, “MJ,” she points over her shoulder, “and Harry.”

“Oh, okay,” you stand again, awkwardly swaying on your long legs, “do you wanna play?”

“We can wait,” she assures, “actually, we’re going to check out the snacks.”

“Right, uh, nice to meet you,” you murmur and sit back down.

Ned asks if you’re ready and you nod. He hits a button and a new race begins. You’re silent as you focus on staying on the road.

“I’m no good at parties either,” he says suddenly, “not that this is much of one. Peter’s not exactly the cool guy.”

“Right, er, it’s… just a lot of strangers.”

“Relax,” Ned says, “I’m gonna get you good. You’re gonna beat them all.”

You laugh, a bit less nervous as he keeps it light, “yeah, I… I’ll try.”

“Pizza,” Peter’s voice punctures the din.

“Finally,” Ned groans but keeps playing, “save me a slice of deluxe.”

The savoury, greasy scent permeates the room almost instantaneously. Your stomach roars but you focus on the screen. You bump another character out of the way as you squint. You’re almost done the last lap.

“Hey,” Ned says, “that was me.”

“Oh, sorry,” you utter as you cross the finish line.

“Woo, first place,” he nudges you lightly, “see, you’re a natural.” He stands as your stomach continues to gurgle, “I’ve trained you well, young padawan.”

“Um,” you furrow your brows.

“Right, not a Star Wars fan, noted,” he smirks, “anyways, I’m starving. How about we feed that dragon in your belly?”

You look down, embarrassed.

“I’m okay,” you say.

“There’s plenty to go around, better get it while it’s hot,” he insists and leaves the controller on the armrest.

You reach over to do the same but stay seated. Your stomach really hurts and your head is starting to pulse. You should eat but you just feel… out of place. Like you shouldn’t be here. You don’t belong and you don’t deserve to share all this nice food.

“Hey, you like cheese,” Peter sits beside you, “got double.”

He holds two plates, hovering one before you.

“Oh, you didn’t have to…”

“You can always switch up if you want pepperoni,” he holds the plate before your nose. You salivate. You can’t hold out any longer.

“Thanks,” you accept the plate, nearly shaking as dizziness swirls in your head.

“No problem,” he sets his plate in his lap and lifts the first slice.

You mirror him and take a small bite of the end. You chew slowly, trying not to betray how your stomach clenches violently. You could devour the slice in a single bite but you don’t want them to judge you. You continue with measured nibbles.

“If you don’t like pizza…”

“No, I do,” you assure him. “Thanks, it’s really good.”

“Well, next time, I’ll make sure to get your fave toppings. You like mushrooms? Oh, don’t tell me you’re an anchovies girl.”

“Oh, no, I haven’t… had that,” you shake your head as you pick at the crust.

“Or maybe you’re more into hamburgers? Oh, how about pasta? Sushi?”

“No, no, I like pizza,” you assure him.

“Well, you can help yourself, there’ll be lots of leftovers, I’m sure,” he stands up, his plate empty as you break the crust of your first in half, “you need more water?”

“No thanks,” you focus on your plate.

“Be right back,” he promises and shuffles away.

“So,” the girl named MJ comes around, chewing while she talks. You look up at her and put the crust down. “You and Peter, how long have you been together?”

“Pardon? Together? Oh, I only just met him a few weeks ago–”

“You two must be getting serious,” she says, “you’re a cute couple.”

“What?” Your heart hammers. “No, I–”

“You know,” Gwen approaches, “just like Peter to spring a girlfriend on us without warning.”

Your mouth opens and you blink dumbly. They think you and Peter are together?

“I’m not his girlfriend,” you say.

“Oh, ha, sorry, no labels,” MJ winks, “it’s only what he told us.”

“He said that?”

“To be honest, when we saw you, we didn’t believe him,” Gwen snickers.

You swallow and stand up. You don’t know what to say so you don’t say a word. You take your plate to the table and put it down. You grab a paper towel from the roll and wipe your fingers off as you head for the stairs. You’ve never been more embarrassed in your life. 

They couldn’t believe Peter would be with someone like you. They’re right to doubt that but it still stings. Just as always, you’re not good enough.

[gallonofgoldfish]

Whiskey and Winning

It's easy to get distracted at the rodeo. At least, it should be, under the lights and in the crowded stands, but you've only got one thing on your mind. Champion bronco rider Abby Anderson could say the same.

Pairing: cowpoke!abby x reader (sort of)

Content: established relationship, fluff, poor attempts at depicting the rodeo, reader is barely described, i swear im not slut shaming i just think the term buckle bunny is funny, i don't think any warnings apply

A/N: wrote this last night in a haze. i hardly know anything about tlou and rodeos actually make me really sad but yk. the parasites. might make another part to this at some point. didn't tell my friends i was posting this so if you guys see this hello i love you thank you for hyping me up <3. also friendly reminder fuck neil druckmann and do not give that zionist your money!!!

WC: 1080

The blare of the announcer’s voice from the overhead speakers is deafening, but you haven’t heard a word he’s said. The lights are blinding, but you won’t squint against their glare. The stadium is packed full—roaring with the drunken cheers of thousands of strangers, glittering with the flash of every camera and belt buckle and rhinestone-studded hat suffocating in the stands—but it may as well be empty save for the two of you.

The world is quiet. Eerily so, though maybe the ringing in your ears is playing a part in that. It’s narrow. It’s tinged by the black splotches at the edge of your vision and strained by the clench of your jaw.

The world is the cowpoke settling onto the bare back of the bronc in the chute only a few feet away from you. It’s the wide-brimmed ten-gallon pressed firmly down over the dirty blonde braid hanging between her shoulders. The collared white shirt stretching over her back, quilted with Marlboro patches and brand logos. The crimson bandana you’d had in your hair an hour earlier, resting around her neck.

The world is Abby Anderson, from the freckles strewn over her scarred, sunburned face to the cold focus in her steely blue eyes that evaporates when her gaze settles on you. Ice turns to the warmth of Jack Daniel’s, neat in its absence. To the gray of campfire smoke winding into the white-speckled sky, burning away the chill in the air. Warding off the spectators and the clamor and the awful, twisting feeling of waiting.

This is what it’s about, right?

The rush. The thrill.

The hitch in the air as her hand tightens on the rigging one last time. 

A grin splits her features.

She winks.

And then she’s gone. The gate swings open and the bucking mare takes off with her on its back and the world bursts back into a mess of color and noise. Eight seconds.

You’re yelling—you’re not sure what you’re yelling, but it’s loud enough to leave your throat raw and earn some sideways looks from the flock of buckle bunnies pressed up against the railing alongside you. 

Seven.

Part of Pour Some Sugar on Me blasts from the staticky speakers, and Abby appears on the jumbotrons in perfect detail. 

Six.

The bay mare thrashes into the air, but Abby’s faster, stronger, the muscles in her arms pushing against the seams of her shirt as she holds her free hand held up in the air. 

Five.

The snarling wolves engraved on her belt buckle flash under the lights. 

Four.

Every kick whips the fringe along the edges of her shotgun chaps, but the timer ticks down anyway. 

Three.

She holds on, anyway.

A closer shot brings her face into focus: grit teeth, a furrowed brow, a muscle ticking along the edge of her jaw. 

Two.

Sweat runs down the side of her features and into the scar on her cheek beneath the shadow of her hat’s brim. 

She’s in the middle of the arena now, gritty sand flying up around her. 

One?

If you could tear your eyes off of her, you’d check the time to make sure you’re counting right.

The music stops. An airhorn sounds. She’s still the rider—some distant, mythical thing up on a screen and down in the dirt.

Abby’s mouth opens in a shout when the second set of floodlights kick in, raising her head only to lock eyes with the pair of wranglers who burst out of the chutes after her to rope the bronc back in. She rocks forward with the mare’s motion one more time before swinging herself off its back and bailing into the sand. 

You finally get a breath out, resting your head against your forearm on the railing and heaving a sigh.

The announcer’s words retreat to the back of your thoughts again, but not before you catch her score. 95.

Ninety–fucking–five. The day’s record.

Just as the stadium begins to die down, the strangers beside you erupt into another round of cheers. Abby’s on her feet again, dusting herself off and sweeping her hat off of her head to shake out the loose strands of hair framing her face. And she’s walking. Jogging. Full-on running, back towards the chutes.

Or maybe not. 

She vaults the rickety fencing at the edge of the ring like she’s been practicing and hauls herself up into the stands. You can’t bite back your smile at the sight of her, shoulders heaving, beaming, alive. The crooks of her boots expertly find the backs of the plastic stadium seats between spectators’ shoulders. As she makes her way over, the strangers along the railing surge towards her, arms outstretched over the section’s edge. 

Abby doesn’t even see them; her stare never leaves yours except to glance at the railing before stepping up on the platform and hooking an arm through the top metal rung. 

She’s real again then—the world in flannel and denim and muddy boots, inches away.

Abby. Your Abby.

You’re breathing it in. Smoke from the night before. Pine and sweat.

Then, you’re tasting it. Whiskey and winning.

Her hat settles atop your head. Calloused, resin-stuck fingers thread through your hair at the back of your neck and reel you in. Your lips are on hers—or maybe it’s the other way around—and you laugh against each other.

Heat creeps into your cheeks long before you pull away.

“You shouldn’t be up here,” you scold, but your smile chases off any thread of sternness your voice might’ve held.

“Agree to disagree.” She wipes her forehead on her sleeve and huffs, one brow arched. The rosy blush in her features lingers even when the sweat is gone. 

The screens over her shoulder change to show two familiar shapes. 

“We’re on the jumbotron,” you say. 

Abby doesn’t bother looking back. Just laughs “Good,” then kisses you again. This one is quicker, lighter, but your stomach flutters all the same.

“Go.” You squeeze her arm. “I’m sure you’re gettin’ somethin’ good for a ride like that.”

She scoffs. “I do this for no damn awards,” she drawls.

“Can’t all be adrenaline,” you murmur, tugging at her bandana.

That sly, smoky look creeps across her features again as the hat lifts from your head and sinks back down onto hers.. The corner of her mouth tugs upward. Her eyes dart over your face. Stepping down, she leaves you two more words and a pounding in your chest:

“It ain’t.”

[vendetta-ari]

Helooooo! I saw that you started a Hazbin Hotel blog and I wanted to make a requesttt! Also I hope you’re having a good day!! ♡

Ok ok ok so what is Vox finds out that his assistant (aka the reader preferably f!) was a famous dancer in her past life so to get more viewers he constantly creates advertisements for her performances (once she finally agrees to perform again) And one day he finally could make it to one of her shows he just becomes absolutely head over heels for the reader and it’s all lovey dovey and tooth achingly sweettt

If you could do this that would be great!

Hiii! omfg, I loved this Idea so much!! I tweaked the idea a bit, I hope that's okay with you? I hope you enjoy though hun <3

You were sitting bored at home, all alone with nothing to do. Vox was in some meeting with Camilla so you couldn't annoy him this time, to your dismay. Scrolling through your phone on Voxtagram you saw a few people dancing, you scoffed “I could do so much better..” you thought to yourself.  and you did! Back when you were alive you used to be a flamenco dancer with a beautiful red flowy dress and your hair slicked back into a ponytail. Ah the good old days right? but.. I guess they didn't have to be just memories, right? You had talent! you should take it up again! I mean, you had nothing better to do! You grabbed a Voxtek speaker and connected it to your phone playing “Rosa Maria '' by Paco de Lucía. You stretched a bit and started dancing to the rhythm, getting lost in the beats your hair swung back on fourth, the music was loud enough for all your neighbors to hear, but you could honestly care less. Dancing again, god It gave you such a rush.. despite being in hell, you'd never felt more alive.

The next morning you had rushed to work, an assistant for Voxtek had you waking up early, but everything else about that job was great! you got to see the almighty Vee's everyday! despite Valentino's tantrums you had to take care of a few times, and velvette's constant teasing, you had grown attached to them. Especially Vox, your boyfriend. The day was pretty easy, you had finished the majority of your paperwork in the first few hours of your shift. Honestly, you deserve a break. So you gave yourself one, but you craved the freedom you felt while dancing, so you put on some headphones and blasted some flamenco dancing music, once again dancing to the rhythm, feeling a sense of freedom like never before. Unbeknownst to you though, Vox was standing right behind you holding a cup of coffee with his jaw wide open. He was in awe of your beauty taking in every minute of it. Unfortunately for him, you noticed quickly and quickly jumped back, the headphones falling off of your head and landing on the ground. In complete embarrassment, you stood still staring at Vox, he smiled. “I never knew you could dance darling. why didn't you tell me?”. You tried shaking off the embarrassment, but you're sure he could tell by your expressions. “I dunno why I never told you. it never came up I guess? I used to be a flamenco dancer when I was alive, and I recently just started dancing again”. Vox walked up and brushed the hair out of my face with his slender and sharp fingers. He smirked, “Y'know doll, you've really got a talent for this” He placed his hands on your hips, pulling you closer to him while grinning. You smiled at his affections pulling him in for a hug you buried your head into his shoulders and neck. “Talent like this…” Vox continued, running his hands down your hair “It can't be wasted.. Oh! Here's an idea! you could do advertisements for Voxtek while you dance!” You almost choked in air at the mention of this idea, I mean, you making advertisements dancing? that's insane.. you just started practicing again- it's nothing more than a hobby..although you did dance in your past life, I guess it wouldn't be a stretch? After thinking about it for what seemed like an eternity to Vox, you agreed to it.

A few weeks went by with your new job, Vox seemed so proud and happy with you. as a treat, he took you out on a date. He wanted this date to be different though, usually he would call up a limousine and take you to a fancy restaurant. but you deserved something more heartfelt, so he took you on a walk around town and after you two would both have a nice home cooked meal made by him. it was perfect, but on your walk you certainly got noticed because of your new advertising job a lot, catcalled and flirted with. It's a miracle Vox didn't rip their heads off when they said those things. needless to say Vox didn't let you advertise for Voxtek again. The poor jealous man hated the stares you were getting, he was close to causing another blackout. He did blow a few fuses and gave you back your old assistant job and he wouldn't let you leave his sight. The advertising was fun while it lasted through, it felt freeing, like being a human again. don't worry though you'll convince him to give you back your freeing job, y'know he really can't say no to you. hey, maybe If you're lucky if you'll teach him how to dance! 

I hope you enjoyed the story anon! I tried my best LMAO

(Not revised, word count is 805)

-xoxo, Ari

[woahjo]

hmm maybe making out w/ armin after a tequila shot? i wanna see him lick the salt off his hand 😭

YAY thank u for sending something <33 and ooohhh jesus what an image.... yeah that's good.

cw: alcohol, dubcon (they're both drunk), this is kinda sweet idk

there's something going on with armin. between you and him. you're not sure when things changed, but they did, and now you find that you're unable to revert back to the way things used to be. there's tension, too thick to cut, that has swelled beneath every interaction you've had for the past few weeks.

your friend group hangs out a lot. eren likes to dance and armin likes the company of hosting. tonight, everyone's gathered at armin and eren's place. you, armin, eren, mikasa, connie, jean, sasha, even reiner made it out to see you all for a few minutes. there's an excited social air about the group, charged with some sort of anticipation that you feel every time one of them approaches you.

the music playing in the apartment is loud and sasha has just bounced off with mikasa in tow to find eren in the living room where he's sitting eating leftovers from yesterday next to the speaker. you're alone at the kitchen counter, sitting in that moment just before your loneliness becomes awkward.

"hey," armin comes up next to you, a haphazard smile plastered across his face, "take a shot with me."

you make a face. "what kind?"

armin's lips curl up in a smile. it's the kind of grin that makes him look mischievous. he wears it a lot when he drinks.

"tequila," he says, laughing to himself.

when armin drinks, he gets bubbly. the positive part of him comes out in droves and he seems to have less reservation about wearing his heart and affection on his sleeve. it's infectious and you find it hard to say no to him, harder now with the way he's looking at you though blonde lashes. plus, you like being alone with him. you always have, but lately it's been so charged that you can't help but be enthralled when it happens.

his cheeks are flushed a light tone of pink and the color drags across to the tip of his nose. you imagine that his face is warm, the way yours might be after the drinks you've had, and you feel that syrupy tension creep back into the interaction as you think of it.

you sigh, taking the bottle of shitty tequila from the counter and filling two empty shot glasses with it. you're giving him an exasperated look while you do it, like he's just begged you for hours to do something and you finally gave in.

armin tilts his head down and gives you a smile so uncharacteristically sleezy that it could drag across the floor. it's still charming though. his mess of blonde hair, strands stuck to his forehead, and the sweet countenance he has about him makes sure of that.

"you're so easy to please," you laugh as you slide armin's shot towards him.

he eyes it for a moment before grabbing a salt shaker from the wet counter top, not seeming to care about the mess he'll have to clean tomorrow from the house party. you watch as he smiles lopsidedly at you and then licks the space on the back of his hand between his thumb and wrist, sprinkling the salt over it. you copy his movements, holding out your fist with an eye roll as he loosely shakes the salt over it.

there are some precut lime slices on the counter, likely from someone else doing the same thing before the two of you, and the tequila is so shitty that it needs whatever help it can get. it's like gasoline, but you're young and broke and tequila is tequila. it works towards the same purpose.

then, armin smiles again at you and raises his eyebrows excitedly.

"ready? go."

you watch, a bit mesmerized as he lifts his wrist up to his lips and licks the salt from it, dragging his tongue against the soft skin of his hand before bringing his shot glass to his mouth and tilting his head back. his blonde hair moves with it, shifting backwards and momentarily exposing his forehead. you follow suit almost immediately after, watching him over the apples of your cheeks.

you're vaguely aware of the fact that he's also watching you, but armin's presence is so comfortable—so desired—that you don't particularly feel observed in any intrusive way.

the shot burns going down. yeah, it's gasoline and you put the lime in your mouth and bite down with furrowed eyebrows. you make a face and armin laughs at you in a way fitting of his friendly manner. so effortlessly charming, so sweet. he follows suit, raising the sour fruit to his mouth and biting down, still wearing that silly little grin.

you smile and armin mirrors it, coughing lightly before settling with the taste. you're alone and the air is so charged that you feel it on your skin. armin takes a step forward and your skin prickles delightfully. it feels so effortless to you, something that exists between you two that makes the flirting easy.

you don't have to wonder if he's going to kiss you. you know he is. armin is shy, but he's been drinking, and weeks have gone by now inching closer and closer to this. people say that you shouldn't hook up with your friends, let alone one of your best friends, but when it's this easy and with someone as sweet as armin, it's hard not to ignore that advice.

he leans in a little, reaching up to touch the side of your face. then, he furrows his eyebrows as if to double check that you're really doing this. when you don't pull back, he puts his lips to yours and you immediately reach up to touch his face.

you pull him closer, inhaling and pressing your body against his and snaking your hand into his tufts of blonde hair. your mouth parts to let him in and you feel his tongue snake across yours. he tastes like lime and the aftertaste of tequila, and something else, something slightly sweet and human that you attribute to his breath.

armin's free hand comes to rest on your hip, tugging you lightly into him. you feel the way his face heats when he does, warming like he's blushing and something in your lower stomach pulses with need. every confident action, every swipe of his tongue, is followed by something bashful. an equal and opposite reaction that leaves you endeared and hungry.

you gasp a little when he knocks your body lightly against his.

"sorry," he breathes against your mouth, not pausing in his movements as he chases you. he sounds breathless and needy, but also genuinely apologetic for his eagerness. you give into him further to quell the anxiety.

you're not sure how long you spend like that, pushed flush up against each other's body. armin's hand roams up the underside of your shirt, his fingertips grazing your warm belly while you snake yours under his to touch his bare back. you only separate when you hear someone clamoring up from the couch and making their way to the kitchen.

the two of you separate quickly and you swipe your bottom lip with your thumb as if that would hide the swollen look of your mouth. armin adjusts his shirt and clears his throat as jean rounds the corner.

he looks between the two of you, standing an awkward foot away from each other before he scoffs lightly.

"sorry to interrupt," he says with a whistle and armin lights up like a switchboard, his ears turning red.

he let's his head fall when jean leaves, leaning against the countertop and looking back up at you with an embarrassed, sweet smile.

[kangals]

aw your blog is lovely, i just got an 11 week old collie mix and my mate sent me your way. any puppy tips or wisdom to impart? 😊

congrats on the new baby!

collie tips: try to think of the barking as communication - it's easy to get annoyed by it, but i promise they're barking for a reason. even if that reason is just "i'm happy!" "i'm bored!" "there's a person on the sidewalk!" "i want this!" etc... you'll have a much better mental state if you treat it as a conversation instead of a nuisance.

not sure what type of coat your puppy has, but brush them at least 2x a week and shower them with treats during it. do nails weekly too! few things are more obnoxious than a grown-ass dog that throws a tantrum about basic grooming. and long-haired dogs need grooming, so they don't get the option to be fussy about it.

puppy tips in general: now that i'm on my second puppy, i think the entire concept of socialization/exposure training can be boiled down into thus:

put that beast in situations

make the situations fun

and that's really it. just take your puppy out and look for Situations to put them in. visiting the hardware store? boom, you've been placed on a wooden pallet. you are now 1 foot off the ground. yes, kind of weird. here's some treats for being on the pallet. yay! ok moving on. walking past an (empty) playground? i am now walking under a bridge, please follow me. yay, treats for going under low object. there is a scary object (e.g. traffic cone tipped on its side) outside? we are investigating the object. yay, here's some treats for sniffing the object. etc etc etc just over and over ad over. even at home you can make Situations like a cardboard box, or loud noises playing from a speaker, or relaxing in different parts of the house, etc. put your fingers in their nose. toss them in a puddle. i've come to realize that your job as a puppy owner is to just mildly inconvenience your puppy so much that they become totally unphased by it. and that's a much easier to swallow concept for me than anything else lol.

also: Situations can be passive too. make sure they learn how to be bored. chill in a room together by quietly ignoring them. let them learn to figure out how to entertain themselves peacefully. leave them alone regularly. etc.

also @purplesaline is a font of wisdom and has given me very good advice about puppy raising. several times i have asked her about a problem i'm having and been reassured that "yes it's fine, X thing will happen soon" and i think "well surely that can't be right" and then every. time. it does happen and she is correct.

[zegrasdrysdale]

More Jamie angst please 🙏🙏

[ last season ] j. drysdale

paring : Jamie Drysdale x fem!reader

summary : Jamie reaggravates his shoulder injury from last season two games into the 23-24 season. (Y/N) tries to be there for him but taking care of him isn't as easy as it was last time

warning(s) : angst (w a happy ending) ! injured Jamie

author’s note : y’all are just as bad as me w angst. you can’t blame me for this one if tears are shed. one of you asked for this and your wish is my command. also, yes ik that jamie technically has a lower body injury rn but a shoulder injury just works better with this plot

༺═──────────────═༻

(Y/N) has been to dozens of hockey games in her life, and watched thousands more. She's watched games where players return after an injury that kept them out long term. She has never personally known a player that has returned from long term injury. She's never watched someone she knows return to the ice after nearly a year away from the NHL.

Until now.

The lights in the Honda Center are dimmed and the starting lineup for the Ducks is being announced. Trevor's line is starting the game. He's centering Adam Henrique and Troy Terry. The defensemen who are starting are about to be announced. She gets her phone ready to go because she knows her boyfriend is on the starting defensive pair.

"Your starting defensemen for the Anaheim Ducks," the announcer says. "Number four. Cam Fowler." The crowd cheers and (Y/N) smiles as she brings her phone up to hit record. "Playing in his first game in the Honda Center in 354 days, number six. Jamie Drysdale."

Jamie skates onto the ice and (Y/N) cheers and screams along with the crowd. She bangs on the glass while Jamie raises his stick to acknowledge the crowd.

He has a look of disbelief on his face as he looks around and skates up next to Cam. She smiles and looks at her boyfriend. He looks at the crowd around him and takes it all in.

She takes Jamie in on the ice in his new plum colored uniform. She knows how far he's come since getting hurt last year.

They had just gotten together when Jamie got hurt against Vegas and she saw him at his lowest. She saw him the day he got cleared to play again. (Y/N) can't help but smile as the lights come on and the Ducks begin to skate around to get ready for the game. The other lines and defensive parings skate to the bench.

Trevor gets into the circle at center ice against one of the Hurricanes players to take the first faceoff of the game. Trevor wins it and gets the puck back to Jamie.

(Y/N) watches with focused eyes, especially when Jamie gets the puck on his stick.

The first goal of the game goes to Sam Carrick nearly seven minutes into the first period. The second goal of the game comes less than two minutes later from Frank Vatrano. He slapped the puck into the net after Jamie passed him the puck.

She probably screams the loudest out of everyone in the Honda Center when she realizes that Jamie is going to get a point for that primary assist.

The boys celly right in front of her so she bangs on the glass. Jamie looks up at her and fist pumps the glass. She brings her fist up to meet his before he skates away to go fist bump his teammates on the bench.

"Anaheim Ducks goal!" comes over the loud speaker a minute later. "His first of the season, scored by number 77 Frank Vatrano! Assisted by number 6 Jamie Drysdale and number 4 Cam Fowler."

Her celebration is short lived because she watches Jamie get tripped by a Carolina player less than a minute later right in front of her. She stands up and sees Jamie go shoulder first into the boards.

The same shoulder he got surgery on and spent the last year rehabbing.

A gasp passes her lips when she hears the thud of his body hitting the boards. A penalty is called on Carolina and Jamie stays down on the ice. A hush falls over Honda Center.

Trevor is quick to skate up to him and get down beside him. She bangs the glass and Trevor looks up at her. He taps his shoulder as the trainer gets over to him. Her eyes widen and she runs up the stairs as soon as Jamie skates off the ice with help from the trainer and Trevor.

The first thought she has is that he tore his surgically repaired shoulder when he collided with the boards. The sound of Jamie’s body hitting the boards replays in her mind and the more she thinks about it, the more nervous she gets.

She makes her way down to the medical area by the locker room. She pulls out her pass that Jamie got her last year that tells security who she is. She shows the guard her pass to get into the players only area. He lets her through and she sprints to medical.

The doctor is checking out Jamie’s shoulder when she bursts into the room. The bottom part of his uniform is on but his sweater, undershirt, and gear are off the upper part of his body. He looks like he’s in a lot of pain as the doctor evaluates him.

“Jamie,” she pants. He looks over at her and relaxes. “I got down here as soon as I could.” (Y/N) walks over to him and grabs his hand.

“I need to learn how to hit the boards with my back,” he jokes. The doctor lifts his arm and he hisses in pain. “So this stops happening.”

She frowns and opens her mouth to say something but the doctor starts speaking first. “Fortunately, I don’t think you tore your labrum again. I don’t think anything is torn. I think it is just a moderate sprain but I want to get imaging done this week to make sure,” he tells Jamie. “Can you come in on Monday?”

Jamie nods, quiet. “I guess I’m done for the night,” he eventually says.

“I’m sorry, Jamie,” the doctor replies. “I think you’re done for a few weeks. Recovery time for this injury is six to eight weeks, sometimes less with rehabilitation and rest. Given your past history with your shoulder, I think rest is the best option right now. Don’t push it until the four or six week mark. Wear a sling and don’t try to rehabilitate it on your own. We’ll talk about that in a few weeks.”

With another quiet nod, he gets off the table and grabs his jersey, t-shirt, and gear. He sulks out of the medical area.

She looks at the doctor and asks, “What can I do? He had a hard time with the last shoulder injury. How can I help him with this one?”

“Be there for him,” he replies. “Physically. Emotionally. This is going to be twice as hard. He’s going to blame himself and take out how he’s feeling on you. He won’t mean it but sometimes he’ll need to let out how he is feeling. Try your best and take care of yourself while you take care of him.”

With a curt nod, (Y/N) follows Jamie out the door. She finds him in the locker room putting on his arrival suit. He groans with pain every time he moves to pull on a piece of clothing. She walks up to him to help him and he sighs.

“Here I am again,” he says as (Y/N) helps him put his jacket back on. “Leaving in the middle of another game because I hurt my shoulder.”

She frowns and fixes his collar. “I’m sorry, baby,” she softly says. “Do you want to go get something to eat and bring it home? Do you want to go up to the suite to watch the rest of the game? Whatever you want.”

“I want to get back on the fucking ice,” he snaps. “But instead I’m leaving to go home and put my arm back in a stupid sling for four weeks.” Jamie grabs the first thing he can get his hands on — his helmet.

With his good arm, he chucks the helmet across the room. It hits a wall with a loud bang and falls to the ground. He strings a bunch of curses out in frustration as the helmet flies through the air. (Y/N) lets him get out how he’s feeling. If that means he throws around his equipment then he throws around his equipment. She isn’t going to stop him. She can’t even begin to imagine how he feels right now.

Jamie sits in his stall and (Y/N) crouches in front of him. Her hands run up and down his thighs. She sees tears in his eyes and frowns. “This isn’t how I wanted this season to go,” Jamie mumbles. “I didn’t want to be out for the first two months. I didn’t want to sit for a long period of time again. I don’t understand why I can’t stay healthy. It's so frustrating. I wanted this season to be different and it's almost exactly like last season."

"It's not like last season," she tells him. "You can do two months. Two months is nothing compared to last season. I promise." There's a horn on the ice and she realizes that the period is over. "Go talk to whoever you need to. I'll be out in the car waiting for you, okay?"

He nods and they both stand up. She gives his hand a quick squeeze before leaving the locker room. She probably isn't allowed to be in there to begin with so she shouldn't be here when the guys come in.

She doesn't run into anyone that's on the Ducks or works for them on the way to the car. She drove in with Jamie so he should know where it is whenever he's done talking to his coach and teammates.

Until then, she scrolls through her social media feed.

There are a lot of tweets on her timeline and in her notifications that are about Jamie. There are multiple clips of the trip and Jamie going into the boards. There are even more clips of Jamie getting up while holding his arm. There are even pictures of (Y/N) watching behind the glass. In all of them, she has a worried look on her face.

A lot of people are upset that Jamie got hurt because he just came back. There are a lot more that are wishing Jamie a speedy recovery.

Reports are already circulating that Jamie reinjured his shoulder. Not returning to the game and out six to eight weeks.

She decides to send out a little tweet since Jamie doesn't have Twitter.

y/n @/yourusername jamie's okay. a little banged up but he'll be back. gonna wrap him up in bubble wrap as soon as we get home, dpn't worry

As soon as she tweets it, her notifications begin to blow up.

The door opening beside her makes her jump a little. She looks over and watches Jamie get into the car. He slams the door shut and lets out a heavy sigh. "Are you-"

"Don't ask me if I'm okay," Jamie snaps. "Let's just go home."

With a nod, she starts the car and begins the ten minute drive from the Honda Center to their apartment. It's probably the quietest ride she's ever experienced.

༺═──────────────═༻

The Ducks aren't doing too bad this season. They're on five game winning streak, but it seems like the more the Ducks win, the more upset Jamie gets.

To hopefully make him feel better, (Y/N) takes him to the Honda Center nearly three weeks after he gets hurt to watch his friends and teammates play against the reigning Stanley Cup champs.

Hopefully they can make it a six game winning streak.

As soon as they pull into the parking lot, Jamie's mood sours. It's like he doesn't want to even be in the vicinity of the arena. He looks out the window at the building with a sigh. He has on a Ducks hoodie with a pair of jeans because it's actually kind of cold in California at the moment. His arm is in the sling. It's been there for three weeks.

"Hey," she says with a smile. "I think it'll be nice to see everyone. You haven't really been out since you got hurt so I think it'll be nice to see your friends and teammates. I'm sure Z misses having you around. Mason too."

Jamie just nods, sighs, and gets out of the car. She feels a surge of something that feels like annoyance as she follows him out of the car.

She's been trying her hardest to make things easier for him. She has been helping him with a lot, including beginning his rehab so he can get back on the ice. Clearly he misses playing so she went against the doctor's wishes and has started helping him rehab his shoulder.

And she's gotten nothing in return. All Jamie does is snap at her and tell her to go away when she's been trying to help him.

"You know, a little 'thank you for taking me out' wouldn't hurt," she says behind Jamie as he walks toward the back entrance.

"Thank you for dragging me out of the apartment against my will," he says in reply. "Really appreciate it."

(Y/N) stops walking and just stares at the back of Jamie. "I'm trying to help you, Jamie," she calls after him. "I know how hard it is for you to-"

Jamie whips around so quickly she's afraid that he gave himself whiplash. "No, (Y/N)," he snaps, interrupting her. He starts to walk back toward her. "You don't know how hard it is for me. You have no idea how it feels to be taken out of play again because you hurt your shoulder. You have no idea how it feels to sit back and watch your teammates win five fucking games without you. It's like they don't even need me and it shows. I'm supposed to be out there and instead, I'm stuck inside doing nothing but rehab and resting. Don't tell me you know how hard it is for me because you don't. You will never understand how hard it is for me."

Her eyes widen. She's never seen this side of him. Not even when he was hurt last season.

"I'm sorry," she softly says. Her voice cracks. "I'm just trying to help."

"No you're not," Jamie replies. "You wouldn't have dragged me here if you were." Those words stung. She felt them with her entire chest and it causes tears to well in her eyes.

"Jamie," she tries to say but he turns around and walks toward the arena.

"Go home, (Y/N). I'll get a ride back with Trevor or Mason."

She watches Jamie as he opens and door walks into the Honda Center. She's left standing in the middle of the parking lot with nothing but the tears that roll down her cheeks as soon as Jamie can't see her. She tries to blink and wipe away the tears but they don't seem to stop. She walks toward the car so she isn't crying in the middle of the parking lot.

This is nothing like last season. Not the injury, and not Jamie.

(Y/N) drives back to the apartment in complete silence. The tears haven't stopped rolling down her face. It might be dangerous to drive while crying but she doesn't care. She just wants to get home and lay in bed.

As soon as she's back in the apartment, she walks right to the room she shares with Jamie. She passes the small room that they turned into a gym. Jamie's equipment is in the room too. She stops and walks into the room. Her eyes are on the equipment that's thrown in the corner by the closet.

She walks over and picks up the helmet that has a dent in it from when Jamie threw it in the locker room the day he got hurt. She runs her thumb over the 6 on the front of the helmet and bites down on her lip to keep it from wobbling.

All she wants to do is watch Jamie play hockey. She wants to watch him zoom around the ice and do what he does best. She wants to watch him do what he loves. That's all. She hasn't been able to watch him play the sport he loves to play, and it breaks her heart.

With the helmet in her hand, she walks out of the gym and into their bedroom. She kicks off her sneakers and crawls on top of the covers. (Y/N) sits with her knees up and the helmet on her lap. Her fingers run over the number and tears begin to roll down her cheeks again. They continue to roll down her cheeks until she dozes off.

She didn't mean to fall asleep though.

It's nearly midnight when a door opens and wakes her up. She looks at the time and realizes that she missed the entire Ducks game. The bedroom door opens and Jamie stands in the doorway. The helmet has rolled onto the mattress beside her. The sight of Jamie angers her and causes her to chuck the helmet at him.

She's no longer upset with him. She's angry at him for the way he's been treating her.

"Jesus, (Y/N)," he gasps as he catches it with his free arm. "Why did you-"

"I've tried to be here for you," she interrupts. "The past three weeks, I've been nothing but your emotional punching bag and I'm tired of it. I've gotten nothing in return and I try to do something with you by taking you to the game, you tell me to go home. No, I will never understand how hard it is for you to be hurt and watch your friends win games without you, but you don't understand that I'm hurting too, Jamie. I want nothing more than to watch you play hockey. I have yet to watch you play a full game of hockey and that's all I want to do because I want to support you. If you don't think that I'm trying to help you get back on the ice then I'll stop because I'm so tired of being the person you take your feelings out on. Tell me to go and I'll go stay somewhere until you heal and are able to play again."

Jamie's eyes are on her the entire time she's talking. He holds the helmet she threw at him in his hand while she finishes what she has to say.

He looks down at the helmet in his hands when she's done. "I didn't know you felt that way," he says.

"I'm frustrated too," she tells him. "I don't have anyone I can go to like you do. You have me, you have an entire team. I don't have anyone because I only have you and I didn't want to burden you with how I'm feeling. I have no one to talk to because the one person i want to talk to has so much going on and I didn't want to make it worse."

She watches his face soften through the tears that have formed in her eyes for what feels like the hundredth time that night. He drops the helmet and walks over to her side of the bed.

Jamie sighs and puts a hand on her knee. "I haven't been very fair to you, have I?" he asks. She shakes her head in reply while she wipes away the tears that have started to roll down her cheeks again. "I'm sorry, baby. I didn't realize that this has been hard on you too. I didn't realize that I've been such an asshole to you. I'm just frustrated and I'm taking all of that out on you when you've been nothing but there for me. You don't deserve that."

"I don't like seeing you hurt," she cries. "I want you to get better. I want to watch you play so I can be the supportive hockey girlfriend I've wanted to be since day one. I love watching you on the ice and I want to watch you under the NHL lights."

He frowns and moves so he can envelope her in a hug. She buries her face into his good shoulder and lets out a couple sobs. Her tears wet his hoodie but she doesn't care right now. It'll dry.

Jamie wraps his free arm around her neck and holds her close. "I don't want you to go anywhere, (Y/N)," he whispers. "I need you here. I won't be able to get through this if you aren't here. I know I haven't been the best boyfriend recently and I'm so sorry. You'll never be a burden with how you feel. You can talk to me, okay?"

She backs away and wipes away her tears. Jamie swipes one away with his thumb. "Okay."

"I love you," Jamie tells her. "Even if I don't show it. I love you and I'm very happy you've stuck around despite me being an asshole to you."

"I stayed because I love you too," she replies. "I'll always love you."

He presses a soft kiss to her lips before resting his forehead against hers. "I can't wait for you to watch me kill it on the ice when I'm all healed."

"I'll be in the stands cheering for you the entire time."

༺═──────────────═༻

MASTERLIST

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[super-paper]

"Thank you for such wonderful comedy."

I've been wanting to talk about how MHA plays with the concepts of "fiction vs reality, the characters vs the actor, the world vs the stage" for awhile now, bc I believe understanding how MHA utilizes these concepts is pretty crucial to understanding our Big Bad (and Tomura!) (...and Izuku!) (.. etc!) (y-yeah...!!!) (wooo.....!!!!!)

If this post is more incoherent than usual, I apologize-- I'm just really enthusiastic about stories that play with the fact that they're stories and characters who throw themselves into a fictionalized role as a means of coping. I love the way MHA handles these concepts in particular, so I lost all sense of restraint as usual.

Hori: "I'm Like Dropping Hints That Hero/Villain Personas Are Actually Coping Mechanisms Lol"

"As Tomura Shigaraki and Tenko Shimura, I've got just one wish: the total destruction of everything that created that house." "If my origin as Touya and Dabi was such a simple thing, then... No, there are still things I want to say. Arguments I want to have."

I've seen a few ppl saying that it sounds awkward/strange to have the characters repeatedly asserting themselves in the third person, but imo, the emphasis on real names versus hero/villain names during these particular scenes plays into the idea of the villain/hero identities being "alter egos" that might not actually have the same core desires as the """"actors"""" that are behind these personas.

Tomura and Touya invoke both their real and villain names while asserting their respective wishes. Himiko also invokes her villain name, though it's less obvious to english speakers because she uses her real name as her villain name (in the raws, "HIMIKO TOGA" as a villain name is written using katakana-- and this is what she uses when asserting her wish). MHA plays with the idea of "fiction"/"Alter Egos" as a form of escapism and as a coping method, and at this point in time, the Dabi/Tomura/"Himiko" identities are still being utilized as a crutch/mask by these three very hurt individuals.

*loud, terrifying chanting* PEAK FICTION PEAK FICTION PE--

Ochako's fight being like the second most thematically important fight in the whole series still makes me unreasonably giddy btw.

To contrast, Ochako uses her civilian name alone when asserting her wish-- and imo we're meant to read this as Ochako wanting to save Himiko as herself, not as Uravity. Saving Himiko is not something she can accomplish as her alter-ego-- Ochako is able to save Himiko by stepping off the stage and becoming a "real" person, while also acknowledging the person behind "Toga Himiko (villain name)".

Izuku hasn't had his "I'm Izuku Midoriya"/"I'm-saving-you-as-Izuku-not-as-Deku" moment yet-- instead, we see Tomura intentionally making that distinction between the-hero-and-the-true-self by constantly referring to Izuku by his real, full name. And I'm pr sure Izuku is also the only one he does this to-- we see him referring to all the other heroes he encounters by their hero names alone, or by insulting nicknames (l-lol). Correct me if I'm wrong, tho!

(side note: Tomura switching to calling Izuku just "Hero" in the aftermath of Bakugate is actually a big step backwards imo-- it reads as Tomura trying to push Izuku away by shoving them both back in the hero/villain box and doubling down on enforcing their respective "roles." Not that I ever expected mister doomdere to make things easy, but, woof. Good Fuckin' Luck, Izuku ( ´･ω･) )

TL;DR The final arc has mostly been about tearing off the hero/villain masks to reveal who is hiding underneath— MHA's careful use of names and monikers plays heavily into that and its distinction between "alter-ego"/"true self" a lot. Which is... probably one of the many reasons why All For One still doesn't have a given name, as someone who has all but completely lost himself in his character.

Anyway! That brings us to the meat of this post: how does MHA take the concepts of "reality vs fiction" and "the character vs. the actor" and apply it to All For One (...and Tomura) (and Izuku--)?

"Pay No Attention to That Man Behind the Curtain!"

"If you refuse to submit, then I'll just rewrite the story." - it's amazing how all of this coulda been avoided if someone had just introduced AFO to Demon Lord x Reader fanfiction. (/j)

AFO fancies himself as the author of MHA's greatest tragedy (the desecration of Shimura Nana's legacy via the sacrifice of Shimura Tenko), while simultaneously inserting himself into its overarching narrative and treating himself as the leading villain of the story-- it's self-indulgent and intentionally invasive in the way that most self-insert fanfiction tends to be invasive, with him going to extremes to make it seem as though the whole story revolves around him. AFO wants to be both the author and the leading character and the leading antagonist. This greed is typical of him, but it also establishes him as a character who's more caught up in (read: trapped by) his relationship to "fiction" than anyone else. Again, MHA explores the use of fiction and alter-egos as an escape from a painful reality-- so, it's entirely reasonable to assume that this applies to AFO as well.

To me, so much about AFO reads as an escapist fantasy of someone who is utterly terrified of being put in a position where he is truly seen. The idea of being vulnerable, of being naked, of being "human," is intolerable to him. But by not allowing himself to feel and "be a human," he has effectively cut himself off from what he wants most. The character of “Shigaraki Tomura” is as much an escapist fantasy for AFO as it is Tenko-- It's just another (younger, prettier) layer of skin he can hide his true self in.

"so basically you're saying that AFO is a never nude" yes, actually :)

AFO dehumanizes Tomura through his attempts to turn the boy into his personal comic book character, but he also dehumanizes himself by desperately trying to insert himself into that “character." It's only fitting that Tomura’s innate humanity and capacity for feeling ends up rendering AFO himself painfully, painfully human-- and ultimately causes AFO's carefully constructed character to start crumbling.

If All the World’s a Stage, Then Let’s Destroy the Stage

"That stage is gone now. The theater's knocked down. How much longer can we afford to be spectators on the sideline?" "Once upon a time, a man named All Might showed all of us how to be a hero. But somewhere along the way, people forgot about the heart and soul that made the man." -MHA, Chapter 325

Tomura is attempting to destroy the stage, because without the stage there can be no "Shigaraki Tomura" (Or "All Might," or "All For One," or "Endeavor," etc etc etc). Without the stage, there are no more "characters" and no more tragedies. But-- without the stage, there are no more stories period. There are no more tragedies, but there are no more happy endings either. The world never recognizes the actor behind "Shigaraki Tomura" without the stage. The stage is not inherently a bad thing, so long as people can remember that the actors on the stage still exist outside of it.

But Tomura himself cannot imagine what happens after the curtains fall, and all that's left is Shimura Tenko. He is stuck in a role that was written entirely for someone else, but remains convinced that the role was always his and that the role defines him.

Tomura rebels against the story the only way he knows how--against an "author" who *LITERALLY* views him as a spicier self insert, and against a "setting" that treats his death as a happy ending-- but even so, Tomura still can't picture an ending that doesn't end in tragedy. His rebellion is not about him trying to wring a happy ending out of a miserable, mean-spirited book-- it's about burning the whole damn library down so he never feels let down or hurt by a story again.

Basically: Tomura cannot act outside the confines of his "character" in a way that will truly save him. Even as he rebels, he's rebelling in a way that is painfully consistent with the way his "character" is written-- and that's why AFO (the author) still poses such an enormous threat to him. Destruction cannot save him from this story when he was explicitly penned to destroy.

The only way to break this narrative is to act in a way "the author" doesn't expect, and to tap into all the traits that AFO desperately attempted to "write out" of him-- Shimura Tenko is someone who has always rebelled against his writing, his author, and the unfairness of this story with his kindness and his willingness to accept those that no one else will.

AFO cuts off Tenko's own power at the root by reinforcing Tomura's belief that the world will always inherently reject him, without fail, always and forever-- so he should just reject the world, too (and I've talked at length about this before, but this is why a story that ends with Tomura dying or locked away from society is an ending that fails in its goal to save Tomura). The more Shigaraki Tomura rejects everything and the more Shigaraki Tomura is rejected by everything, the more he distances himself from his root and the source of his power-- and the more Shimura Tenko gets lost in this character.

While AFO is terrified of someone seeing behind his mask, Tomura longs for it. Tenko has been there since the beginning and has been begging for someone to finally see and acknowledge him (both in-universe and out of universe).

"I’ll Be There, Changing Fate by Your Side."

AFO: "Blah Blah Blah Do you still believe myths can save you? Foolish creature. Let me be clear: every version of the story ends with you being slaughtered yadda yadda yadda :) :) :)" ENTER, MIDORIYA IZUKU WITH A STEEL CHAIR.

Izuku's role is that of a completely average boy who gets pulled into a narrative ''that wasn't for him"-- he has no heroic lineage, no hidden powers, and no connection to the centuries old conflict that drives the plot. He's just a boy who did the right thing at the right time and was rewarded for it. Izuku is someone who was "never supposed to be a hero" the same way Tenko was "never supposed to be a villain" per the "rules" of their world-- and Izuku, like Tomura, is someone who exists to destroy those rules and the expectations of their narrative, completely changing the ending.

But rather than burning the book and ending the story forever (like Tomura wants to do), Izuku believes that the story and characters can still be salvaged. There's always something worth saving. It doesn't have to be a tragedy, they can still change the ending. They can talk specifics after Tomura's crazy ass puts the lighter down.

Izuku, like Tomura and so many other characters, throws himself into an alter-ego in an attempt to redefine himself and escape from pain ("Nobody's been saved yet. Don't be the worthless old Deku who can't save anyone" 😬). He almost loses himself in the role of "OFA's torch bearer" the way All Might did-- but just as Izuku managed to find Toshinori Yagi and helped in convincing him that his life as Toshinori has meaning, Izuku ends up getting saved by his friends who couldn't care less about OFA's ~protagonist power~ and know that Izuku is just a goofy, awkward, human boy who needs help.

Like.... If we explore quirklessness as like... a narrative stand-in for characters that the story typically views or dismisses as irrelevant extras/npcs, then AFO's barely restrained anger at Izuku and Toshi (and possibly Yoichi if we're being honest) for daring to ''act beyond their roles'' becomes even funnier. AFO can't stand the idea of his power/the protagonist role being passed on to someone who seems so utterly unworthy, unremarkable, and plain. He can't stand the idea of someone without a quirk/"role" standing up to him, the leading character. Dude really is a toxic comic book fan to the core.

afo really said "I didn't like how things were going so I stopped reading and just wrote a better ending to the story :^)" like...... @mhareddit that's u buddy...........................;

Anyway...........!!!!! AFO is someone who cherry picks what he likes about a story while ignoring the actual intent/message of the work (#theabsolutestateofthemhafandom), but he has no intention of breaking down the dichotomy between heroes/villains and instead actively enforces it (.............#theabsolutestateofthemhafan--). He just wants to flip what side wins in the end.

Tomura wants to break the narrative because he sees that as the only way to escape from his pain (but in doing so, he permanently cuts himself off from being a part of a story with a happy ending). He wants to destroy the dichotomy between heroes and villains because heroes and villains "will never understand each other and never stop creating each other" (lol. lmao, even).

Izuku wants to break the narrative because he's realized that there's something more to this story than your standard "Hero versus Villain," "good vs evil" affair and that he cannot explore what lies behind those masks and labels without tearing them down, first.

These three work together well as a narrative set of Fucking Nerds, and AFO works well as both Tomura and Izuku's villain for all of the above reasons (& also bc he's the only one who is actually benefitting from their current society) ((which basically offers him an endless buffet of hurt and angry children he can exploit on a silver platter)).

Anyway! Kick his ass, Izuku.

[evilgaygothgf]

I Know What I Said Pt. 2

(a/n: I lost the request for this but here you go anon!)

Quackity x reader (reader is referred to as “girlfriend”)

“Hey, I miss you.”

“Alex, how can you already miss me? I JUST saw you,” you couldn’t help but laugh into the phone. He had just dropped you off at your front door and barely let you make your way inside your house before he was calling you already.

“You don’t miss me?” You could envision his fake hurt facial expression just by the amount of dramatics he was putting into his voice on the other line. “My car still smells like you. It’s almost,” he started fake sniffling on the other line, “it’s almost like you’re still here with me.”

You rolled your eyes and made a loud sigh, hoping he could hear it through the phone. “You are so dramatic”

“And you love it.”

“You know me oh so well.” You couldn’t deny it. His playful side is what drew you in to him in the first place. “Oh, also, I meant to ask you earlier, but do you have plans tomorrow?” You started making your way to your room to get ready for bed while he responded.

“Umm, I know I’m supposed to talk to a few people about doing a stream together this week, but other than that I should be free. What about you?”

You put your phone on speaker and threw it onto your bed while you changed into some sweats and a tshirt. “Hmm, well I was thinking about hanging out with my boyfriend and maybe going on a real first date with him. Do you think he’d want to do that?”

“You know, it’s funny because I was actually thinking about how much I’d want to take my girlfriend on a date tomorrow. Maybe we can go on a double date?”

You laughed to yourself as you flopped onto your bed. “Sounds like a plan. I’ll text you the details and you can meet me there?”

“Wherever you go, I go.”

“Okie dokie. I’ll see you tomorrow. Goodniiigghhht Alexxx,”you said in a singsong voice.

“Goodnight, gorgeous.”

As soon as he hung up the phone, you were blushing and kicking your blankets like a madman. A date? Him calling you gorgeous? Boyfriend? Girlfriend? You woke up pining for your best friend and ended the night with a confession, a kiss, and a date for tomorrow with your best friend turned boyfriend. The days events kept playing over and over in your mind as your stared up at the ceiling.

———————————————————————

You walked into the the front entrance of the art museum and looked around for your boyfriend. You spot him standing near the main entrance to the exhibit and he locks eyes with you, immediately grinning from ear to ear. You can’t help but to start smiling right back at him as you walk across the room to where he was standing.

“So your date didn’t show either?” You were confused at first what he was talking about until your remembered your playful convo from the night before.

“Nope. Looks like we both got stood up,” you joked back. “I guess our double date is cancelled. What should we do now?”

Alex crossed his arms over his chest. “You know what? The two of us will just go on this date without them. They don’t deserve us anyway.” He leaned over closer to your ear. “Besides, as soon as I saw how cute you look today, I wouldn’t want to be on this date with anyone else.”

You felt the heat rushing up to your cheeks at his comment and hated how easy he could make you blush. It really wasn’t fair. The two of you started heading into the art exhibit and slowly made your way through each room.

You eventually stopped in front of a Maxfield Parrish painting that caught your attention.

As Alex stood next to you looking at the painting, you began telling him all that you remembered about the piece. “This is one of my favorites by Parrish. No matter how many times I see it, I’m still amazed by how a two dimensional painting can look like it’s actually glowing. Oh, and my teacher was explaining to us how this artist used blue so much that-“ you cut your sentence short at the feeling of warmth in your hand. You looked down to your hand to see he had grabbed a hold of it with his own hand and began intertwining his fingers with yours.

“Oh, is this- is this not okay with you cause I can-“ he began spouting out, but you cut him short.

“No, no I promise it’s okay,” you grinned, “I was just surprised. I wasn’t expecting it.” You both turned your gaze back to the painting and stood in the silence of the moment. Even with the exhibit being filled with other people circling from sculpture, to painting, to installation, it felt like it was just the two of you in this moment.

Alex broke the silence with a soft voice, “I like the way your hand fits in mine. My little puzzle piece.”

“I swear that is the gushiest thing I’ve ever heard you say. Keep saying that stuff and you’ve got yourself a second date,” you said without averting your gaze from the painting.

“Oh there’s definitely more where that came from.”

[valdomarx]

struck by fucking lightning

Five times Roy and Jamie kiss by accident (and one time it's on purpose)

Jamie is a touchy person, that much is obvious. He's always hanging off Sam or bumping shoulders with Colin, ruffling Dani's hair when he plays well. Roy watches with cool amusement as Jamie sits with or on or over half the team, splayed out like a particularly tactile octopus.

So it shouldn't really come as a surprise when Jamie scores a banger of a goal during a match against Southampton and runs past the coaches' box in celebration. He rushes over to Roy, grabs his face in both hands, and plants a kiss fully on his mouth.

The other coaches snort with laughter, and Roy swats at Jamie and rolls his eyes.

That's just the kind of thing you should expect when you have Jamie Tartt for a teammate.

-

"I told you to take it easy with those presses," Roy tuts as Jamie sits up on the bench and rubs at his shoulders.

Jamie flashes him a sheepish grin. "You know I gotta keep up all of this hotness though," he says, gesturing at himself.

Roy sighs. "Idiot," he sighs, walking behind Jamie so he can massage out his traps, digging his knuckles into the knots of muscle.

Jamie makes appreciative noises as he works, and Roy takes the opportunity to lecture him about balancing his training properly. By the time he's done, Jamie's shoulders are loose and relaxed.

"Cheers, coach." Jamie takes his hand and, of all the things, drops a kiss onto his knuckles. "You're always looking after me."

-

Roy walks into work on match day with three cups of coffee, as per usual. He finds Keeley and Jamie, heads close together, deep in conversation about the merits of various brands of hair conditioner.

"Morning, Keeley." He hands her a coffee and gives her a kiss on the cheek, which makes her smile. It's a nice feeling.

"Morning, Jamie." He hands a coffee to Jamie as well and, without thinking, leans over to kiss him on the cheek too.

Roy freezes as he pulls back, eyes wide as he realises what he's done, but Jamie just beams at him.

"Thanks, Roy," he says, and goes back to talking to Keeley, who is hiding a grin behind her coffee.

-

Roy rings Jamie's doorbell at 4am for training and when Jamie first throws the door open, he's bright-eyed and raring to go. But then he looks at Roy and a frown creases his brow.

"Mate, what's wrong?"

Roy intends to lie and say he's fine, but instead what comes out is, "Keeley dumped me."

"Aww, shit."

Jamie refuses to run that morning and hustles Roy inside instead, sitting him down on the sofa and making him a mug of unbearably sweet tea.

"You'll be alright," Jamie says, flopping next to him and putting an arm around his shoulders. He squeezes Roy tight and presses a kiss to his temple. "It'll be okay."

It's actually kind of comforting, even if the tea is terrible.

-

The next time doesn't even count, not really. They're both drunk off their arses and high on victory, celebrating a win against Tottenham in some grotty club. The music is loud, the shots are plentiful, and the rest of the team are off somewhere in the thrumming darkness.

"Oh! I love this song!" Jamie perks up as a heavy beat pounds over the speakers. "We gotta dance!"

It's a terrible upbeat house track but Jamie is so excited that Roy finds he can't refuse, so he lets Jamie pull him to his feet and lead him to the dance floor.

For a skilled athlete, Jamie dances like an idiot, but it's kind of endearing. He looks good like this: disheveled, happy, free. Roy puts his hands on Jamie's hips as they dance and thinks about Amsterdam, about Jamie teaching him to ride a bike and to embrace something new.

Jamie loops his arms around Roy's neck and presses their foreheads together, and they've done this before too. But it seems like a lifetime ago that they were scrapping in the locker room. They're both different people now.

Maybe it's the nostalgia, or all the shots, or the dark warm cocoon of the club, but then Roy does something stupid. He leans in and brushes their lips together. Just a touch, easily deniable. An invitation.

Jamie has never been cursed with indecision though, so Roy feels his fingers flexing at the back of his neck before he pulls him in to kiss him properly.

They make out on the dance floor like teenagers, sloppy and inelegant and with an undercurrent of desperation, until Isaac and Colin come bustling over to drag them to the corner where the rest of the team is partying.

It doesn't count, obviously. But Roy finds himself thinking about it all the same.

-

The next Monday morning Roy hauls himself out of bed ready to head to Jamie's for early training. But when he opens his door he finds Jamie there waiting for him, the first pink of the sunrise streaking softly through his hair.

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

Jamie chews a fingernail. "I've been thinking, right."

"Never a good sign."

"Shut up, I'm tryna be nice here."

Roy cocks an eyebrow. This should be good.

"Cause, like, I've been trying to be better. Not at football, obviously, I'm still the best at that. But at everything else. Looking out for the team and that. Being accountable."

Roy nods. He knows that, of course, and Jamie is braver than he is to be able to talk about this shit out loud.

"And the thing is, the better I am to other people, the happier it makes me. Wild, innit? But when I put love out there, I get a whole lot more back. It's a fucking deal."

"That it fucking is," Roy agrees. Ted would be so proud.

"And it made me think, right, about what made me change. About who was there. It was Keeley, for sure, she put in a lot of groundwork that I didn't appreciate at the time. And it was Ted, with his endlessly chipper Yankee thing that gets into your brain somehow. And it was the team, who really are top lads."

Roy wonders if Jamie might be dying. Or moving to another club?

"But most of all, it was you." Jamie flashes him a bashful smile. Roy's heart stammers for a second. "You saw something worthwhile in me, and you dug it out. I like who I am because of you, and I wanted to tell you that." Jamie's eyes flick down and he scuffs the toe of his trainer against the brickwork. "I'm yours, right? You know that."

The blood is rushing in Roy's ears. He didn't know that, actually. He had no fucking clue.

"You absolute fucking prick." Roy's voice comes out rough.

Jamie's eyes flick back up to him, wavering and anxious.

"You come here and give me that speech at half three in the goddamn morning and expect me to be coherent about it? Christ, I can barely string together a sentence about my feelings at the best of times, and here you are laying all this shit out."

"Right, sorry, yeah." Jamie has shrunk into himself, and he turns to leave. "I'll go."

Roy darts out of the house in his socks to grab Jamie's shoulder. "No, fuck, I'm getting this all wrong." He spins Jamie back around to face him. He dredges up his courage. "What I mean is, I've been happier in the last year than I have in my entire fucking life, including when I was winning cups for Chelsea. I finally learned it's the people around you that are more important than winning. The people that make you more than you are. And it's you! It's fucking you."

Jamie is blinking at him with those big, wide eyes of his. Roy's hands sit on each of his shoulders, holding him in place.

"You're the highlight of my day, Jamie fucking Tartt. I'm yours too."

"Oh." The smile that blooms over Jamie's face is brighter than the rising sun. "Oh."

Puddles of last night's rainwater are soaking Roy's feet but he hardly notices, especially when Jamie looks up at him from under his lashes, chewing at his lip. Roy stares at the movement of his lips, captivated.

"So can we. Can I. Uhh." Jamie blushes, then laughs. "Fuck it," he says, and surges forward to kiss Roy.

Being kissed by Jamie is quite the experience, especially now he's not holding anything back. Jamie's hands are running over Roy's back and his hair is tickling against his forehead and Jamie is kissing him like he might drown without it.

Roy feels unstable himself, and he's glad he's still holding on when they break apart for air. He's unsteady on his feet but Jamie holds him up and he can't stop smiling.

Ahh, Roy thinks, with sudden clarity, and there it is.

Struck by fucking lightning.