#we were supposed to meet a third friend but he couldn’t come | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

borathae · 2 months

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"You might not know who will find this tape and watch it or if anyone ever will, but whoever might find it will see that the days you and Taehyung spent together were bright."

Pairing: Vampire!Taehyung x Witch!Reader

Genre: established relationship!AU, Slice of Life, Fluff, Romance

Warnings: they're in love :(, running in the rain, kissing the rain, hugging in the rain, yeah there's rain if y'all didn't know yet lmao, a romantic little holiday, non-sexual nudity, sharing of a shower to warm up, they're playing dress up in the living room, they pretend to be newly weds, slow dancing, so much laughter and giggles and happiness, like besties i might actually sob this is so romantic, also she is smaller than him i'm sorry besties i know i normally try not to add too many height descriptions but i'm smaller than tae and i needed to feel something hahahah a bitch just wanted to be immersed ✊🏻😔

Wordcount: 2.7k

a/n: this is based on anonie's idea and inspired by IU's song. i love him so much, you guys. i miss him so much, i might actually start crying :( have fun besties, this is so lovely and sweet 💙

“Quick! We have to be quick!”

“Tae, slow down please. You know that I could just open us a portal?”

“No. It won’t work. Quick, we are almost there.”

You and he are running, trying to escape the inescapable. Your hand is clutched in his’. He is leading the way, looking over his shoulder every third step to make sure you are still keeping up with him.

You barely are at this point. It is difficult to see. Thick stripes of his hair stick to his face, your clothes stick to your bodies. The trees shake above your heads. The birds had stopped singing a long time ago.

“How far? Tae, I can’t run anymore.”

“Just past this clearing. One last time”, he promises and looks back front.

The end of the forest is within reach. One. Two. Three steps and you have left it behind. The inescapable still follows you, making it hard to see.

“There! It’s there!” you call out and point at the small house in the distance.

Taehyung turns on his heels, “one last time. Come”, he says and runs off. His hand slides from yours this way. He is so much faster than you.

“Tae! Wait for me, I’m not that fast!” you call after him, stumbling through the meadow.

He throws his arms over his head and laughs, twirling and skipping in the high grasses.

The storm surprised you. It wasn’t supposed to rain today. That is why you and he went on this forest walk in the first place. You were deep in the woods, surrounded by nature and with the song of bird keeping you company, when the weather changed drastically and rain began pouring down. You were soaked within minutes. No matter how fast you ran, you couldn’t outrun it. You still ran. Hand in hand and with your visions blurry from the water.

It was fun at first, but soon became less fun. You were soaked and you were cold and you wanted to be back at the house.

Taehyung is by the lowest stairs of the front porch, watching you run to him. He is bouncing on the spot, encouraging you to speed up with squeaky cheers.

You and he left the estate behind for the sake of going on a little holiday. Taehyung asked one of his vampire friends if they could rent him one of his forest houses for a few days and off you went. It is just you and Taehyung here, surrounded by forest and the steep cliffside with the ocean in the back.

You reach Taehyung’s side. He meets you in the middle, picking you off the ground by your waist. He twirls with you. The force of the twirls swings your legs high in the air until it feels as if you were flying.

You squeak in laughter, holding tightly onto his shoulders as Taehyung makes you fly.

“I have you now”, he laughs.

“This is so much fun!” you squeak, throwing your head back as around you, the world blurs.

He stops once your heads are dizzy, using the momentum to swing your legs past his body and back again to repeat it with the other side. He did this move a million times before whenever you and he went swing dancing. It never loses its spark. You are still squeaking and giggling as if it is the first time he is doing it.

Taehyung is laughing just as much. His face is contorted in happiness, his eyes barely want to stay open from smiling so brightly.

He keeps you in his arms once he stopped swinging you, holding you under your butt and gazing up at you. You caress his shoulders and the nape of his neck, looking down at him. He is a little blurry in your vision because your head needs to recover from being twirled so much, but you don’t mind. You have Taehyung to keep you safe.

“I love when you do that”, you tell him.

“Me too. Oh darling, this was so much fun.”

“Yeah, it was”, you say, flinching in sync with him when sudden thunder and lightning strikes the earth at the same time, “holy cow, that was so loud.”

“I think it might be time for us to go inside”, Taehyung says.

“Yeah, I think so too”, you snicker.

Taehyung grins and turns to carry you inside.

You laugh, “are you going to carry me?”

“Of course. It is the least I can do after dragging you along like this.”

“Yeah true. You did drag me quite a bit, you big meanie.”

“But you must admit that it was terribly fun to run in the rain.”

“Yes, it was. I’m cold now though. I really need something to warm me up.”

“Worry not, I shall warm you up in no time.”

“You shall?” you giggle.

“Mh-hm of course. This is what I am here for”, he says with a playful lift of his brows.

“Oh Tete, you cutie”, you smile, snuggling your face into the crook of his neck. You rub it against him this way, letting out little sounds of comfort.

Taehyung loves the affection. You give off the image of a love drunk cat this way. Taehyung really, really loves when you are this way.

With one hand under your butt, he opens the door and slips inside the small cottage. He locks the door and with it, turns the storm into an outside friend. It grumbles and rumbles in a constant melody, lighting up the darkening day with flashes of bright electricity every now and then.

Taehyung sometimes listens to thunderstorms and thinks of you. You love thunderstorms. Taehyung sometimes listens to thunderstorms and thinks of you and as he does, he places roles onto the different elements of nature’s sky showers. You are the lightning while he is the thunder, because you will always come first while he only exists because of you.

Taehyung sets you down in front of the shower. He disappears from your side for just a second to turn on the water, then returns. He touches you, running his big hands up your waist until he has your upper back under his palms. He smiles at you, blinking his eyes slowly like a cat in love.

“May I undress you?” he asks.

“Yes”, you allow him and lift your arms.

Taehyung takes off your clothes with utmost care. Your body is sacrilegious to him. Unwrapping it must happen with respect and tender love, for you should never ever feel as if the beautiful vessel for your soul was nothing but desirable flesh to him.

He throws your wet upper clothing onto the tiled floor and lowers his lips to your right shoulder so he could worship the paths of it with tender kisses. You sigh his name in reaction, sliding your hands under his soaked jumper.

“You are beautiful”, he whispers and lifts his head again. He rises his arms, allowing you to take off his jumper. He has to lower himself a little when you reach his head, giggling with you because he thinks it’s adorable that you couldn’t reach.

“Tiny darling one”, he teases, earning himself a nudge to his chest.

“You’re just too tall”, you throw back and laugh when he wraps his arms around you to nuzzle his face into the crook of your neck. You squeak and cackle, fleeing him as much as you press into him, “your hair’s so cold and wet, Tae”, you whine.

“I know, oh I know. Quick, let’s undress and get under the water”, he says and facing each other, you each take off your pants.

You discard them on the tiles as well, stepping into the shower afterwards. Taehyung lets you enjoy the water first because you are his lightning. You tilt your head up, closing your eyes and smiling softly. You are so beautiful. Oh, he feels jealous of the water kissing your face and the warmth touching your skin.

He reaches out, resting his hands on the softest part of your waist. You open your eyes, looking up at him. He feels vast of air for a blink of an eye.

“Come inside, Tae”, you tell him and drag him under the water by his waist.

Your bodies connect, your skins finally share one warmth.

“Mhm”, Taehyung lets out and tilts his head back so the water can trickle down on his face.

“It’s so warm, isn’t it?” you ask, gazing up at him. He is so beautiful.

“It’s so wonderful. Oh, I felt the cold within my bones”, he says, lowering his head so he could meet your eyes again.

“Me too. I don’t regret it however.”

“Me neither, my darling”, he says and closes the small distance between you and him by hugging you against his chest.

You melt into him, closing your eyes and wrapping your arms around him. You rest your hands on his back while he cradles the back of your head and traces your spine. You and he sway from side to side slowly, sharing the warm water while outside it storms.

Being cold with him will always be okay, because at the end of it, you and he will share warmth again. There is truly no sweeter future than this.

You and he dry the other’s hair after the shower. You loved each other for long enough to know how to do it perfectly. You learned the language of his hair, while in return he learned yours. You know how to touch, what to use and where to start. You come first of course because you are his lightning. He comes second, leaning into your palm when you cradle his cheek and call him beautiful.

You wrap the other in a soft bathing robe afterwards, leaving the bathroom together. The storm and the passage of time darkened the sun by now and so you turn on the lights to see.

“I want to drink some tea. Do you want a cup as well?” you ask him.

“I would love to, thank you”, he says and points down the hallway, “I shall get clothes for us. I promise to get only the warmest of jumper for you.”

“Alright, my darling. Thank you”, you say and kiss his lips chastely.

You and he part ways for only a few moments. You use it to prepare tea and he uses it to get clothes. Just like you had agreed to do.

The tea has finished brewing when Taehyung enters the kitchen.

“My darling”, he makes his presence known in a soft spoken voice.

You turn, meeting the lens of a camcorder.

“What’s this?” you ask him, “darling, why are you wearing a suit?”

“I found it. Alongside this camera and this dress”, he explains, lowering the camera for now. He slides a white dress from his shoulder, handing it to you.

“A wedding dress?” you ask him.

“I do not know who it belonged to once, but it is your size. The suit is my size as well”, he says and smiles shyly, “do you want to put it on? For only a little while?”

You feel your heart flutter. With a fond smile on your lips, you nod your head.

“Don’t peak. If we pretend to be newlyweds, we have to follow the rules.”

“Yes, true. I shall meet you in the living room”, Taehyung says and turns away with a happy skip in his steps.

You watch him with a fluttering pulse. Taehyung is such a tender person at heart. His soul is colours of golden oranges and warm yellows like that of a young sunset seeing the world for the first time. Only he would think of something like this. Only he would see no strangeness in pretending to be married and he was right. There was no strangeness in it.

The dress smells like lavender and violets. It looked too small at first, but then you slipped it on and it fit as it was made for you. The dress smells like lavender and violets and perhaps just a little like magic. Perhaps that would explain why it found you and Taehyung when it did.

You abandon the mugs of tea because there was something else keeping you warm now. The excitement of being with Taehyung.

“Tae?” you call for your lover, “are you ready?”

“I am”, Taehyung answers you from the living room. Lively music accompanies his voice. He must have put on a record.

With a racing heart, you step through the threshold.

Taehyung stands at the end of the room by the lit fireplace. The camcorder is propped on some books, filming the scene unfolding.

“My darling”, he gasps and exhales shakily, “my darling, oh, look at you.”

“How do I look?” you ask him and grab the dress on two spots so you could twirl and swing it as you dance to him.

He meets you in the middle, sweeping you off your feet as he grabs you in the midst of your jump. You squeak, throwing your head back as Taehyung twirls you in the small living room.

“Oh my beautiful darling, my sweetest light. No art could ever capture the beauty of you. My darling, oh my darling”, he gushes and laughs, gazing up at you with sparkling eyes.

“I’m getting dizzy, Tae”, you squeak with tears of happiness welling up in the corners of your eyes.

Taehyung stops twirling, sliding you down his body gently until your tiptoes touch the ground. He keeps you close, running his hands along your torso lovingly. His eyes are glistening, gazing at you with soul-consuming love in them.

“You bring light into my life”, he speaks softly.

“I do?”

“You do. Oh darling, you do”, he smiles with his eyes, “you truly do.”

“You make life brighter as well, my darling”, you say, caressing his chest gently, “and you look so handsome in your suit.”

“I look miniscule in your light, my darling. Oh I want to pick you up and twirl you until the world stops turning.”

“Please don’t. I’d probably throw up”, you laugh, making Taehyung chuckle and scrunch his nose.

“Then at least show the camera, please my darling”, he says and turns you to where the camera stands. He pulls you close, resting his head against yours, “this is my darling, dear future person who might find this tape. Say hello.”

“Hello there, future person”, you say, doing a little courtesy. You crack up afterwards, looking at Taehyung, “this is so silly.”

“No it isn’t”, he says and drags you closer to the camera. He uses the momentum to tug you against him, squishing his cheek with yours, “this is my dearest darling, my universe”, he says and kisses your cheek, “I love her so much”, he adds and hugs you tightly.

You giggle, snuggling into him. Taehyung picked a fitting nickname when he called you his light, because your smile in this moment could light up even the darkest of days.

“I love you too, my darling”, you tell him, turning in his arms to kiss his lips, “now may I have this first dance with you, my husband?”

Taehyung giggles, lifting his shoulders to his ears shyly. He nods his head vigorously, laying his hands into yours. You drag him away to a free space, beginning your dance with a twirl of him. He laughs loudly, falling into your arms with his head thrown back in joy.

“How was that for a twirl?” you ask him, guiding him to the music.

“It was perfect. Oh darling”, he rests his cheek on your shoulder, pulling you close, “I am so happy. My beautiful wife”, he says and giggles, “it has a wonderful ring to it.”

You close your eyes as your fingers begin playing with his hair.

“It really has, my darling husband.”

Taehyung giggles. You join him. You and he will dance until the tea is cold and the camcorder falls asleep.

You might not know who will find this tape and watch it or if anyone ever will, but whoever might find it will see that the days you and Taehyung spent together were bright.

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theemporium · 11 months

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Sirius x fem!reader where she gets stood up for a date so he comes to the rescue. Lots of fluff please!! thanks

thank you for requesting!🖤

You had never felt humiliation quite like this.

It has taken a lot from you to accept the date in the first place. Pep talks from your friends who were eager to push your limits, for you to try something new rather than staying in the shell you usually kept yourself locked away in.

Even as you were getting ready for the date, it took everything within you to hype yourself up. You were seconds away from calling it all off and hiding away in your bed until the anxiety bubbling in the pit of your stomach disappeared.

But you told yourself your friends were right, that you needed to step out of your comfort zone even if it meant spending the whole walk to Hogsmeade feeling like you wanted to spew your guts out.

You reached the pub ten minutes early—just as you planned—to scope out a decent seat with a direct view of all your escape routes. You settled down, ordered a drink and let the minutes pass by until your meeting time.

However, the minutes passed and time went on, and every time the door to the pub opened, it was everyone but your date’s face walking through the door.

The embarrassment settled deep inside you after five minutes passed. It only grew when you hit the fifteen minute mark, and by thirty minutes you were wondering why you hadn’t just packed your stuff and ram off by now. Though, you supposed, the embarrassment of leaving and everyone knowing you had been stood up was worse than being stood up itself.

Yet just as you were seconds away from forcing yourself to make a beeline towards the door, a body slid into the booth next to you and a heavy arm was placed around your shoulders.

“Sorry I’m late, love, detention ran over.”

Your eyes lifted to catch the gaze of none other than Sirius Black.

Now, you knew Sirius in the sense that everyone in the school knew Sirius Black. He was a quarter of the infamous marauders. He was a scoundrel who was constantly up to no good that his charming looks tended to get him out of. You even shared a few classes with him, spent all of third year sat next to him during Transfiguration.

But you didn’t really know Sirius Black.

Hell, you weren’t even convinced he knew your name.

“Uh—” you opened your mouth to reply, to say something, only for Sirius Black to render you speechless for a second time in the last thirty seconds as he leaned down to press a chase kiss on your cheek, a little too close to the corner of your lips for someone who was considerably close to being a stranger to you.

“Minnie decided to be finicky tonight,” he continued to ramble on, not even acknowledging the way you were gaping at him. “Even when I told her I had a hot date waiting for me.”

Your brows furrowed together. “What?”

“Something wrong, darling?” he asked so innocently as though there wasn’t an amused gleam in his eyes. The pet names were distracting enough, you didn’t need to throw his pretty eyes into the mix.

You dropped your voice to a whisper, the confusion still clear on your face. “What are you doing?”

“I just told you,” Sirius said with a grin. “I’m on a hot date.”

“I–” But you cut yourself off, unsure what you even wanted to say to the boy.

“Listen, I was chilling with some mates and saw a pretty girl sitting here by herself,” he said in a softer voice, a little quieter too so the nosy patrons around you couldn’t catch a word. “So tough luck to the stupid bastard who didn’t show up, but his loss is my win.”

You blinked. “So…this isn’t a pity rescue?”

Sirius’ smile softened a little as he shook his head. “Look, if you don’t wanna be here then I will happily walk you out so you can head back to the castle.”

“Or?”

He tried to bite back the way his grin instantly widened, the arm around your shoulder tightening a little. “Or you stay and we have a drink, and I show you what a real date looks like.”

“You are not what I expected you to be, Sirius Black,” you murmured thoughtfully as you stared at the gorgeous boy. Less than five minutes with him and all the expectations you had of him were nowhere near accurate.

“That tends to happen when you ignore me for a whole year during Transfiguration,” he retorted with a chuckle.

Your eyes widened a little, unsure if it was shock that he remembered you or the fact he wanted to talk to you at all.

“What? You think we were just sat together by chance?” he teased lightly, his fingers toying with the ends of your hair. “This isn’t the first time I saw a pretty girl sitting alone at a table and tried to take my chances.”

You laughed, shaking your head as you found yourself thanking whatever stupid reason your date stood you up for. Not that you cared, not in a single way because Sirius Black did just as he said he would.

He showed you what a real damn date looked like and it was just one of many.

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haikyu-mp4 · 3 days

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Friend of a friend

word count; 2535 – gn!reader, very suggestive at the end, manga spoilers

Back in high school, you went to Inarizaki and chose to be a manager for the volleyball club in your second and third years. It was incredibly fun and you might have cried when they won nationals in their last spring tournament before your class graduated.

Even after graduating and going your different ways, you stayed friends with Suna and the twins, as well as some of the other players. Unfortunately, you spoke much less frequently with the others.

Being friends with those three means gossip sessions, which is why you were lying on your bed with your computer open on a video call with the guys, updating each other on the latest gossip.

“How’s the new team, Rin?” Osamu asked, making Atsumu squint with a cocky smirk as he probably immediately started comparing it to his team. Suna shrugged his shoulders.

“It’s cool. That Komori guy is nice, I never really talked to him in high school,” he said, mentioning him because Atsumu had told you guys all about the players in the All-Japan group back in your second year. And of course, everyone knew about the best high school libero of the monster generation. You let out the tiniest gasp, covering your mouth when the twins started cackling while Suna looked confused. “What?”

“We never told you?” Osamu asked Suna in particular while you were making wild gestures for him to shut up. “Y/n has had the biggest crush on Komori since our second year at Inarizaki.”

Oh, the horror. Suna’s face lit up in a way it rarely did, suddenly armed with precious information to be used against you. “Are you serious?”

“It was a high school crush, get over it!” you yelled as if the blush on your cheeks was not giving you away.

“You were practically drooling.” Atsumu accused you and if you could punch him through the screen, you would.

“Miya, I swear to god-” but Atsumu knew you couldn’t reach him, so he smirked and kept that big mouth talking.

“When we were at nationals that year, the two of us went off to go watch Itachiyama.” he started, but you interrupted him.

“Because Tsumu wanted to stare at Sakusa,” you mumbled, already giving up on making him withhold any information.

“I was scoping out the competition! Anyways, one look at Komori was all it took before I was punched way too hard in my shoulder and forced to give up any information I had,” he explained, making it as dramatic as he could for Atsumu-purposes and clutching his upper arm as if he could still feel it.

“Reeeally?” Suna cooed. “From what I can tell, he’s single.”

Osamu had his mic off as he was in the kitchen making food, leaving you to the two worst ones. “This is why ‘Samu is my favourite,” you mumbled. He gave the camera a thumbs up and a wink, still leaving you to your own defences.

“Is he the one getting you a date with your lifelong crush?” Suna asked rhetorically, phone whipped out in the corner of his screen making your face go pale.

“No, but neither are you!” you yelled, hoping it was somewhat threatening, but it sounded more desperate. “And who said lifelong? I hate you.”

“Fine, suit yourself.” he finally said, but the way he was side-eyeing the screen while Atsumu smirked told you this was not over yet.

Fortunately, weeks went by without you hearing anything else about any supposed date. Komori did come up in conversation now and then, which you appreciated when it wasn’t just so they could tease you. You could feel the crush blossoming again every time Suna told you about their adventures in volleyball and it felt somewhat nostalgic.

Should you give in and ask Suna for his number?

This is what you were wondering as you walked through the city, barely dodging bikes that tried to run over you while you daydreamed. The better option is probably giving in, but you preferred admiring him from far (far) away rather than facing the possible rejection. You pushed the door to the cafe where you’re meeting Suna, before huffing as you realised it said pull. Good start to the day for sure. When you finally got inside, you were muttering under your breath as your friend’s laughter rang in your ears.

“Shut up!” you barked at him before sitting down. He already ordered two hot chocolates when you said you were on your way.

“What’s got you so scatterbrained?” he asked, leaning his arms on the table.

You glared at him over your hands, which you were leaning on. “How to secretly perform a lobotomy on my enemy while he’s sleeping,” you answered, but your ears still burned red knowing what was actually on your mind.

“So you weren’t thinking about a certain teammate of mine?” Suna asked, wiggling his eyebrows. However, he looked genuinely surprised when you just leaned back down on your hands, not denying it. “Wait, you were?”

“Why am I friends with you?” you whine, finally sitting up to sip your hot chocolate in hopes that it would fix all your problems.

Suna smirked, hearing the bell ring over the door of the cafe. “I can think of a few reasons,” he said quickly before lifting his hand in greeting, making you whip your head in the direction of the entrance. To your horror, there stood none other than Komori Motoya. “Motoya!”

The libero smiled kindly, making your heart skip a beat as he walked over to you two. “Sunarin! What’s up?” he asked.

“Just catching up with this lovely person,” he said, throwing you a devilish grin. Komori turned to you, bowing lightly to greet you as well.

“Right, Suna told me about you. Komori Motoya.”

“Hi,” you said, feeling shy as you told him your name as well. As if you didn’t already know his name. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

Thankfully, he didn’t seem to think too much about how you said finally. “And you.” With that, Komori smiled and excused himself to order his coffee. This gave you some time to soundlessly curse at Suna, until you had to plaster a smile back on your face when he came back over, sitting down for a moment while waiting for his name to be called. “You were friends from high school, right?”

“Yes.” You glanced at Suna for help, words stuck in your throat. “I was a manager for the volleyball team.”

Komori made a sound of realisation like he finally put two and two together. “I thought I knew your face from somewhere!” he said, memories flooding back of the game in their last year of high school where they faced off against Inarizaki. “The pretty manager who got scolded by the referee for being too loud.”

You laughed at the memory, looking at Suna to see if he remembered as well and somehow managing to overlook that he called you pretty. “That’s the one,” Suna said, confirming that he did.

“You beat us in the semifinal,” Komori added. “Rin said you saw another one of our games at nationals once.”

“Not just once,” you chuckled before realising what you said and shutting up immediately. Both of the boys chuckled as well, one to ease your embarrassment and one to embarrass you more.

“Komori!” the barista yelled, relieving you at the perfect time. The man stood up and got his drink before coming back over but not sitting down. “I’ve got to go, but let’s meet again sometime, yeah?” he asked, directing the last half at you more than his teammate.

“Yeah,” you agreed, putting as much effort as you could into giving him your best smile. He bowed quickly before turning on his heel and leaving with a final goodbye.

Your eyes went straight to your friend, squinting. The second the cafe door closed, he burst out laughing, trying to not be loud and disturb others. “Not just once!” he mocked, making you bury your face in your hands. “You’re so hopeless at this.”

Let’s just say Suna told the twins how that went over your next video call, so now you’re watching them laugh at you as well, begging any existing god for it to stop and to just bury you already. After a few minutes, the laughing and teasing cooled off. “Well, now it’s my turn to step in,” Atsumu announced, and once again they got to watch the colour drain from your face.

“Step in? There will be no stepping in.” you stuttered.

“This Friday, I’m hosting a private party,” he said like a rich man from some movie. “And let’s just say you’ll enjoy the guest list, y/n.”

You bury your face into your mattress, pressing a pillow over your head. “Please, anyone. End my misery!”

But who are you to deny a good party? It’s just for fun, nothing interesting.

Nothing interesting at all- the thought drifted off into nothing as you watched Sakusa and Komori walk through the door. You chuckled to yourself at how Sakusa seemed to already turn around and try to escape when he saw there were more people there. From the corner of the room, where you previously chatted with Atsumu before he had to answer the door, you watched them. While calmly sipping your drink and leaning against the wall, you observed how sweet Komori acted, turning Sakusa back around and urging him to stay.

However, you should never let your guard down when you’re friends with a Miya. Next thing you knew, all the previously mentioned guys were looking where Atsumu pointed; right at you. In a fight or flight moment, your eyes widened and you escaped into the crowd before Komori could even see you properly. What a classy reaction!

The party went on and you danced with a couple of people you knew from here and there. It was a decent party, you had to admit Miya was good at hosting. Lucky you also crossed paths with a smirking Suna at the edge of the living room turned dance floor. “You truly are the image of grace,” he teased, and you glared in betrayal.

“Thank you,” you answered instead of arguing, moving along with the beat. Suna still seemed smug, and you felt a sense of deja vu when he lifted his hand and yelled ‘Motoya!’ over the loud music. “Have I told you that you’re the worst?” you asked in your sweetest voice before using some liquid courage to turn around to your undeniable crush with a drawn-out ‘heeey’.

“Hey, I was hoping I’d find you,” he responded, a hand caressing your upper arm because some people were pushing. “Where did Suna go?” he asked, glancing up once or twice before settling his gaze on you.

“I asked him to call on you, actually,” you lied, choosing fight instead of flight for once. After all, you had downed a cup or two of mixed alcohol since earlier.

“Really?” Komori smiled and you naturally copied it, albeit a bit more dazed. “Why?” he started moving with you to the music, his hand stroking down your arm and finding its place on your waist.

You didn’t answer him with anything more than a flirty smile and sheepish shrug, stepping closer to him and getting lost in the music while you dared to. If Suna was so insistent on him perceiving you, you didn’t want to seem like some loser with a childish crush.

Eventually, the song changed and you looked down into your now empty cup with a small pout. You left it on the closest surface and turned to Komori. “Should we go somewhere quieter?” you asked, pointing towards the stairs. When he agreed, you loosely grabbed his hand and pulled him up the stairs, looking around for a moment before realising the only good options were the bedroom or the balcony. “Bedroom or balcony?” you asked without thinking much about what it might seem like.

Did he look nervous? Komori was fiddling with his empty plastic cup and didn’t meet your eyes, biting his lip as he looked at the door to the bedroom. “Don’t you think it would be occupied?”

You shrugged and walked over to the door, pulling on the handle and swinging the door open only to find an empty albeit a bit messy room. Turning back to him, you knew your cheeks were burning. It’s just from the alcohol… “Coast is clear.” Komori followed you inside before closing the door behind you, hesitating for a moment before deciding not to lock it. What if that scared you off? What if he misunderstood? The two of you ended up facing each other in the middle of the floor, both thinking too much to make the first move. You weren’t sure if you pulled him upstairs for anything specific, you honestly just wanted to talk to him more now that you had the chance. And guts.

Komori accidentally dropped the empty cup he had been fiddling with and winced, seemingly spurring into action from that little movement alone. “You’re gorgeous.”

You looked at him wide eyed before the words just fell out of your mouth. “I have a huge crush on you.”

A breathy chuckle left his lips and it brushed over your face because he was so close, yet he was seemingly moving even closer by the second. “Sunarin told me.”

You squeeze your eyes shut for a second, cursing your best friend in your mind until you feel Komori’s hands land on your hips more confidently. “I hate him,” you informed him in a whisper. The little space between you felt like it wouldn’t fit anything louder.

“I don’t,” he answered with a small grin before he kissed you, making your arms automatically loop around his neck to pull him closer. You kissed him back with the lust of every wandering thought you had of him the last few years, and he kissed you back with the passion of someone who wasn’t used to being the crush with a cousin like Kiyoomi. When the back of your legs hit the bed, you lay back and pulled him with you, feeling one of his hands slide under your shirt, which you had no intention of stopping.

Suna wasn’t sure if he was happy or not with the sounds coming from Atsumu’s bedroom when he went looking for you. He was glad his plan worked out but he did not need the mental image that came with you moaning his teammate’s name. Is it possible to rinse your brain? Also, Atsumu would act so mad about you doing whatever in his bed before you ‘snuck’ out of the party hand in hand with Komori.

And Osamu would hear all about it in the morning when you came to get food wearing an EJP Raijin sweatshirt. He’d tell you having you there on your derailed walk of shame was bad for business, but still let you sit there and babble about how great Komori was, both in bed and after.

At least you were happy, and that made them happy too.

masterlist

#haikyu #haikyu x reader #haikyuu #hq x reader #fanfiction #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x you #hq #haikyu fluff #komori motoya #komori x reader #inarizaki #inarizaki x reader

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imagine-a-life-like-this · 7 months

Text

Perfect For You : Part 3 (H.JS)

Word Count : 2.3k

Warnings : swearing, food mention, arguing, mention of suffocating (not physically)

A/N : What? You mean to say this series isn't discontinued?! It is not! I am back with the third part and the epilogue (hopefully) coming soon. I hope you enjoy!

Jisung was wrapped around her like a koala. She could barely move when she woke up, trying to roll out of bed, and go make breakfast. His grip only tightened when she moved, a small whine coming from him. “If you’re awake, let me go.” She giggled, but again his grip only tightened.

“I missed holding you like this.” He opened his eyes, meeting her softening stare. He took in this moment. The way she looked with her messy hair, eyes still half closed because she’s still tired. Stunning. He thought to himself. And I almost let her slip away. He reached up to smooth her hair before pressing a small kiss to her face. “Should we go out for breakfast today?”

“Sungie you have work.” She wanted to stay angry at him. But he made it so hard. He’ll do something that upsets her but the next second, he’s being cute, and looking at her like he doesn’t want to be anywhere else. And he doesn’t. Beside his girlfriend is where he belongs, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

“I can be late. I want to take my girl on a date.” She gave into him so easily, just like she always did.

They stood in the bathroom together, going through their morning routines together. Brushing their teeth, doing their hair, washing their face. They did it all together, laughing over whatever funny face they decided to make in the mirror at each other. And things were falling back into place.

“I just want her to yell at me again! Why is she letting me get away with everything?” Jisung whined as he collapsed beside Changbin on the couch. Chan swivelled around in his chair to look at the pair on the couch.

“Is it possible she heard our call the day you were complaining about her?” He asked as his mind started putting the pieces together. How she began to act different after their call that day. Jisung started to think about it, putting the same pieces together in his mind. But he wanted to deny it, didn’t want to believe that his girlfriend, his beautiful, perfect girlfriend, heard him complaining about her to his best friend. Because he knows had the roles been switched, he would be devastated, heartbroken, inconsolable.

“No. No. No.” He began to shake his head as he repeated the word. “No. She couldn’t have. Absolutely not.” The tears started welling up in his eyes as he stood from the couch, now pacing around the studio, still repeating the word no. “Fuck!” He screamed. “How am I supposed to fix this? Did she hear us the other day in the studio talking about guys night?” He thought about how bad it would have sounded, overhearing him agree to cheating on his girlfriend, something he would never actually do. “Shit. Fuck. Dammit! Fuck!”

“Okay, okay breathe Jisung. In through your nose, out through your mouth.” Chan said, reaching his arms out and placing his hands on Jisung’s shoulders. “Focus on your breathing.” Jisung nodded and Chan led him back to the couch to sit him down. Chan continued to coach him through the panic attack.

“Thank you.” He said meekly. Chan just handed him a bottle of water and told him not to worry about it.

“Listen dude, even if she did hear us the other day, you didn’t do anything. You left after half a drink and went straight home to her.” Changbin explained. “All of us will vouch for you if she asks. Even given the chance, you stayed loyal. That’s what matters.” Jisung nodded. Surrounded by girls that were begging for their attention. Jisung would still choose Y/n. No questions asked, no hesitation.

He realizes then just how much he’s pushed her away. How she’s practically a shell of the woman he met and fell in love with. It was killing her to go along with everything he wanted, but she kept smiling, kept allowing him to do whatever. He felt disgusted with himself, hated himself, for being so happy, so excited, about it. Thinking his relationship was better than ever when in reality it was falling apart. “Hyung I need to fix this.” He said, looking at Chan, tears still in his eyes.

“Go.” Was all Chan said. Jisung didn’t waste a second running out of the studio, into the streets, hailing a cab, and spitting out his address as fast as he could. He wasn’t sure how he was going to fix it, but he would do absolutely everything to do so.

She was in the kitchen doing some baking when Jisung came barreling in, not bothering to take his shoes off, and wrapped his arms around her. She froze her actions, slowly melting into his touch. “What are you doing home already?”

“Wanted to spend some time with my baby. We weren’t doing much.” Jisung pulled away from the back hug and leaned on the counter next to her so he could see her face. “So pretty. Look at you. Oh you’re blushing. Looks like I still got it.”

“What you got is my foot up your ass if you don’t take your shoes off.” She joked as she lightly kicked his leg.

“Kinky.” He replied as he went back to the front door to take his shoes off and put his slippers on. “Do you need help baby?” He asked as he walked back into the kitchen.

“Well I was originally trying to surprise you, but you came back early.” She giggled as she continued working through the recipe. Jisung just stared at her, taking in everything about her. It was like his world was going in slow motion as he watched her. Even after everything he did, she was still trying to do things for him. To make him happy. To make him feel loved.

“What did I do to deserve you?” He asked softly, wrapping his arms around her again, resting his chin on her shoulder. She turned her head to press a kiss to his cheek.

“You exist, Sungie. That’s all you need to do.”

“Come on. We don’t want to be late for dinner with our parents!” Y/n called up to Jisung, who was fixing his hair in the bathroom for the tenth time.

“I’m coming.” He repeated over and over as he ran down the stairs. As he got to the bottom, he saw her, and he froze. Standing there in a dress that fit her oh so perfectly, her hair done, makeup done. He couldn’t stop staring, falling in love with her all over again. She was the most beautiful girl in the world to him. It was like time slowed down as she stood there. Like those prom scenes in movies but he’s the one walking down the stairs meeting her at the bottom. And if they didn’t need to meet their parents for dinner, he would be carrying her up to their bedroom.

“Let’s go.” Jisung was starstruck. He knows there’s no way he’s ever going to love anyone else the way he loves her. And he regrets almost ruining it. Promises himself he’ll never make the same mistakes and continue loving her the way she deserves.

Jisung was telling stories about the members, making them all laugh at the antics they get up to. She couldn’t help but stare at him whenever he was talking, loving the way the suit fit him. Thinking about all the things she could do to him once they were home. It’s been way too long since they’ve been intimate, with all the arguments, and then her distancing herself as to not have her heartbroken had he decided to walk away.

But ever since he came back early from work, no before that, since he came back early from guys night, he’s the Sungie she fell in love with. Loving her the way he used to. She wakes up in his arms to him pressing kisses all over her face. He watches her as she cooks them breakfast. Comes home to her, wrapping her in a giant hug every single time.

She unpacked the suitcase in the closet, no longer feeling the need to run before he got home. Everything is falling back into place.

“So Jisung, when are you proposing?” Her mom asked. Jisung let out a breathy chuckle as he reached to grab Y/n’s hand.

“Marriage isn’t in the cards anytime soon. I’m too busy for that.” He explained before jumping into another story about the boys. And she felt her entire world shatter once again. The embarrassment she felt had her nauseous, so she excused herself to the bathroom.

Hovering over the toilet in a stall, tears streaming down her face as she wills the food to stay down. After the feeling passed, she cleaned herself up, hoping no one would notice that she cried. She took a couple deep breaths before exiting the bathroom, Jisung stopping her from returning to the table. “What?” She asked coldly.

“Did I say something wrong?” He asked with a pout. Did he seriously not know how humiliated she feels right now?

“We’ll talk later.” Was all she said before walking back to their table. And Jisung just smiled to himself, knowing she was none the wiser to his plan.

“You feeling okay, pumpkin?” Her dad asked. She just smiled and nodded, explaining that there was a small line in the bathroom and that’s why she took a while. Jisung returned shortly after, grabbing her hand as soon as he sat down, running his thumb over her empty ring finger. It felt like salt in the wound so she took her hand back.

Conversations continued on, but she didn’t contribute much. Trying her hardest not to cry again. It felt like she was suffocating and there was nothing she could do. Like she was sinking in quick sand, clawing her way up just to be sucked further down. Like she’s sinking to the bottom of a pool and no one is coming to save her.

“Oh dear it’s getting late.” Jisung’s mom said. “Shall we pay and head out?” She looked directly at Y/n, giving her a small smile. It was as if she could see the suffering she was feeling and gave her a helping hand.

“It’s on me, don’t even worry about it.” Jisung explained. Her parents and his parents thanked him for the dinner. And after he paid, the six of them headed out, going in separate directions towards their own vehicles. “Baby please talk to me.” Jisung pleaded, stopping her before she could get in the car.

“You want to do this here?” She asked and he could tell she was upset. Something he hasn’t seen from her in months. Despite him trying his best to piss her off enough that’d she’d yell at him the last few weeks. Nothing seemed to work, she was determined to not start any fights. All because of that stupid phone call he had with Chan who knows how long ago. He doesn’t even remember what he said, but he knows she does.

He knows she definitely has every word committed to memory and it haunts her every single day. And he wishes he could erase her memory of the call, but he can’t. He has to allow the words to haunt her and there’s nothing he could do about it. The things he would give up if it meant she wouldn’t hear those words.

“You’re impossible.” She sarcastically laughed, tongue in cheek as she ripped her arm out of his grip and tried to get into the car once again, but he stopped her again. “Jisung please let’s just go home.”

“Stop holding things in and just yell at me dammit!” He exclaimed.

“I don’t want to do this here.” She said as she looked around. Some people were heading into the restaurant, some people were leaving. But there were people everywhere and she didn’t want to disturb their evening with some petty fight that will just end with him going to the dorms. Running away from their arguments like he always did.

“Well I do. Tell me what I did to upset you.”

“Fine.” She said before taking a deep breath. “You humiliated me Jisung. I understand that you’re busy and getting married anytime soon definitely isn’t happening. But really? Not in the cards? And then you continue talking about the members as if my mom asked about what you had for lunch? Fuck Jisung, they were all you talked about tonight. Maybe marriage isn’t a big deal to you, but it is to me. I want to get married. I want to marry you. If you don’t feel the same, tell me right now. Let’s end things before it’s too late.”

“What? Baby no. No absolutely not. I’m not letting you go. Not now, not ever. You are my end game. My everything. I’ve made some mistakes, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to marry you. In fact-“ He paused for a second, reaching into his pants pocket, pulling out a small velvet box. With a smile on his face, he knelt down on one knee, opening the box to reveal a ring that was a dream. “I am so in love with you it’s not even funny anymore. I couldn’t picture living my life with anyone other than you. I’m sorry I said it wasn’t in the cards, but I couldn’t have you figuring out I was planning on proposing. So Y/n, baby, will you marry me?”

back to masterlist

@mxnsxngie @cadenonlinelive @lethallyprotected @eastleighsblog @abbiestearsricochet @berryblog @th3melthatfell @weird-bookworm @randomwimp @goblinracha @whois-alexis @its-hannjisung @idkhoomanmaybe @lenilla15 @desiree62 @waiting-for-the-barbarians @i-dont-know-me-either @exorexx @armystay89 @pixigreen @hvnnieluv1325 @softquokka @maknaeswrld @stay-down-kid @lolareadsimagines @chansducky10 @ellieqqw @usercaiskz @aestheticsluut @moon0fthenight @lixie-phoria @strawberryepie @chaotickyrith @hoeforcheol @hanjibug @hearts4sungie @straycrescent @myprwttyhan @hyunsllvr @be0m9yu @alnex05 @boosungie @axhxyxo @neverhimari @dramaticnobody @stayvillem @katnisspeetaprim @seungminsapuppy

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jamminvroomvroom · 2 years

Text

karma rules! part 2.

ln x fem!reader

read part 1: ‘a golf swing and a trampoline’!!

back on my lando bullshit lmao. HI! here’s part 2! i wanted to write a second part considering how things were left in part 1. very interested in knowing if y’all want a third part!! thank you so much for all the love on part 1, one of my fav things i’ve written 🫶 n e wayz, please enjoy more lando suffering and max on lando violence.

sticking to the ‘little freak’ harry vibes with this one too. karma really does rule!

in which everyone is sad and horny.

warnings: 18+!! swearing, alcohol, aaaaangst omg, smut, fluff, max being very fucking annoying, reader being a sexy girlboss, lando’s entire character

7.2k words

lando couldn’t recall exactly how long he’d been stood outside your bedroom door staring at max. he couldn’t recall exactly how long max had been stood there either, staring back at him; disgust etched across his downturned lips and an unwavering sheen of hurt clouded his eyes, greener than usual, probably from the envy scorching through his veins. lando could feel his jaw relaxing every few seconds, his mouth falling open, apologies daring to spill from his parted lips. no sound came out. what was there to say? nothing, apparently, as max turned on his heel and stormed off back towards his room.

lando stood motionless for a second too long, blinking rapidly, mouth bone dry. anxiety pooled in the pit of his stomach in the most horrific way, although he supposed he deserved it. some small trace of sense that he’d lost when you turned up on that godforsaken golf course returned, and he finally sprung into action, chasing max down. when he finally caught up to his friend, max was already on the verge of slamming the door in lando’s tanned face.

“max, please, just hear me out-“ lando was breathless, flailing helplessly as he tried to find the right words. max wasn’t keen on giving him the chance to.

“you have everything. you have everything else that i want. why did you need to take her as well?” max spat the words, rage-laced and unrelenting in their brutality. lando’s mouth once again hung agape.

apparently it was a rhetorical question, one that lando would probably think about until his last breath, as the door slammed shut in his reddened face.

what a mess he’d made.

lando’s attention had been taken away from the ceiling looming above him by the slamming of a door and the sound of suitcase wheels rolling along the floor. he’d been sprawled out on his bed, helplessly awake since the early hours of the morning, since he’d crept out of your bed, since max had slammed the door in his face. yet another wave of dread washed over lando, adding to the tally, as he dragged himself up off of the duvet that he’d melted into and arose, daring to investigate. it didn’t take a genius to work out what was going on.

cracking the door open, his suspicions were confirmed. max was almost at the staircase, suitcase in tow behind him. lando sighed, pushing the door open and stepping out into the hall. max turned around at the noise, eyes daring lando to try and convince him to stay after such a betrayal.

“you’re not actually leaving are you?” lando’s voice sounded just as pathetic as he felt. max rolled his eyes.

“what does it look like?” he scoffed in response.

“don’t be silly. come on, we can talk about this.” lando tried to ignore the guilt. an impossible task.

“silly? you fucked her, you prick. there’s nothing to talk about.” max seethed, teeth gritted. lando’s eyes fell shut, unable to meet max’s.

“it’s not like that.”

“then what’s it like? you can’t help yourself, can you? you’re so used to having everything that you want. you had to add her to the collection of things that you have and i don’t.”

“don’t make this into something it’s not.” max’s allusions were misplaced, as far as lando was concerned. lando had taken nothing from max. never a seat, never a girl. not even the one person that he wanted. you weren’t even max’s to be stolen, and yet you and lando had parted ways out of courtesy for no one other than max.

“what is it then? tell me. tell me all about how deep and meaningful it is.” max mocked, hitting lando right where it hurt: his track record with women. “tell me that you’re madly in love with her. i bet you can’t. i know you, lando,” max was pointing his finger now. “i know she’s nothing but another fuck. and you know how i feel about her!” he was getting louder, a little too loud for lando’s liking, considering they were stood right outside of your door. oh, and because the rest of their friends could probably hear every single word from the surrounding rooms.

“that’s not,” lando’s jaw clenched, he swallowed hard. “that’s not true.” he muttered, not wanting to rile max up further by admitting that, yes, he was madly, pathetically, gut wrenchingly in love with you, and he was almost certain you felt the same way.

“you’re such a fucking joke.” max threw the words and they landed square in lando’s chest, leaving him winded. max turned away, resuming his beeline for the stairs once again. lando stepped forward.

“and what am i supposed to tell the others, huh?” lando called, exasperated.

“i don’t know, maybe tell them how much of an asshole you are.”

he didn’t see max’s face again, the door slamming harshly, a line drawn in the sand, a boundary. not that lando had any issue with crossing lines, something he was bitterly reminded of when he turned away from the stairs, letting out an existential sigh as he did, only to be met with your furrowed eyebrows, quivering lips, and oceans of sadness and un-cried tears swirling in your eyes.

it hurt. it actually, physically pained lando. reaching out for you, touching you, even just for a second, just to comfort you, it was forbidden now. he knew that if he pulled you close, he’d never be able to let go. they’d have to find some way to alter his mclaren so that you could race with him. he would not be able to let you go. you knew this just as well as he did. he wondered for a moment why you were looking at him the way you were. distant, confused, sad. after the night you’d shared, the most beautiful, bittersweet turn of events, he couldn’t fathom why you looked so distraught at the sight of him.

why are you looking at me like he did? lando wondered.

that was, of course, until he realised that you’d heard everything.

“i know you, lando.”

“i know she’s nothing but another fuck.”

ouch.

“i don’t know what you heard.” lando’s words scratched the back of his throat, clawing their way out of his mouth and leaving nothing but bitter, bitter regret all over his tongue. he wanted the ground to swallow him whole. nothing would have pleased him more. he’d made too big of a mess.

“just all of it.” your voice was dusted in sleep, the very sleep that he’d peacefully left you in. you didn’t sound like yourself at all and it scared him.

“he doesn’t know what he’s talking about.” lando rushed out, trying to salvage any respect you had left for him. you were not just a body to him.

“but he knows you, lando.” you whispered, delicately devastated.

“he doesn’t know anything about the way i feel for you.” if lando needed you to understand one thing, he desperately needed you to understand that.

“he’s lashing out,” you nodded your head softly as you spoke, as if to tell lando that you understood what he was trying to say. “we hurt him.”

“no, i hurt him. this is all my fault.”

“takes two to tango.” you mused, always apt at breaking the ice.

“i never should have let it happen.” and maybe that was the truth, but lando knew that he would thank whatever god he could think of for giving him that one night. the words you’d whispered to him the night before were almost worth the agony.

“do you regret it?” he admired the way you tried to control your shaky voice when you asked.

“i should.” max was right, lando truly was an asshole.

“i didn’t ask whether you should or not, lando. i asked you if you regret it. there are two answers.” this was the first flash he’d gotten on this not so fine morning that you were losing your temper with him. how could he blame you? he would have been wise to start listing all the people he’d pissed off on this trip, but he feared there wasn’t a big enough piece of paper, or enough ink in the world.

“of course i don’t. but i-“

“no. no ‘buts’. it’s already too painful. no ‘buts’.” your words were electrifying in the worst possible way. he had hurt you. this was hurting you. and there was nothing he could do that would make it any better.

“i’m sorry. i’m so, so sorry.” the emptiness of his apology, despite how much he meant it, was daunting. he had hurt you.

you scoffed. he was getting sick of that sound.

“i don’t want your apology, lando.”

“well, i can’t give you what you want.” he sounded desperate, oh so desperate, a wounded animal frantically searching for a way out. your eyes fluttered shut, a sigh settling deep in your bones. you took one last look at him, knuckles turning a pasty white from how hard you were gripping the door. slowly, it began to close, doing yourself a favour, and shutting him out.

“bye, lando.” you whispered, before you were cast out of sight. if he was counting, this would have been the third door to slam in his face and the sun had barely broken in the sky. what a miserable record to hold; the most people that cannot bare to look at you before 8am.

why would no one give him the luxury of letting him apologise? it made him sick, just how far gone the entire situation was, how out of control he was. a racing drivers worst nightmare. somehow, he’d managed to kill two birds with one stone. max was gone, and it seemed like you weren’t far behind him. maybe you and max were meant for each other after all.

that thought made him feel sicker than anything else had.

phone calls were always awkward, especially for someone as awkward as lando. the awkwardness was intensified by the fact that max was ignoring every single one of his calls, ending them before they could even ring out. there were only so many calls that you could make before you succumbed to the fact that no progress was being made. the next best thing that lando could do was catch a flight, and so that’s what he did.

lando ignored every single quizzical look, ignored the way his brother and tom looked at him doubtfully when he announced that he was leaving early “because of a work thing” that he was “sworn to secrecy” over. he just shrugged at all of their questions as he threw his neatly hung shirts in his suitcase and floored it out of his rented bedroom, taking a similar route to max. down the stairs and out the door. but unlike max, lando was weak. he couldn’t leave without one last glance over his shoulder, one last look at you.

you stood with folded arms, almost judgemental, narrow eyes glazed over with a shimmer that made lando’s heart plummet. you’d chosen him, and yet he was choosing to go and fight for max’s friendship. how tragic.

deep down, he knew he was being cowardly, running away. he needed space, needed to finally be able to breathe again and he knew that he wouldn’t be able to do that in a house with you, especially without max’s watchful eye. he also knew that if he played this right, fixed what needed fixing, there was a possibility, albeit a slim one, that he’d be able to initiate something real with you.

while he desperately needed to fix things with max, purely because he was his best friend, he also knew that max acted as a stepping stone, a gate keeper, as tasteless as it sounded. max’s friendship meant the world to him and he was grateful for it, no matter how many times he lost a round of golf, but you were like air and he knew that he needed you just as much. not more, but definitely just as much. it was a delicate balance, one that he thought of in the taxi, imagining he was rested against you again, one that he thought of as the plane took off, as it landed, and as he reclaimed his luggage.

pulling up at max’s parents house was as panic inducing as it should have been, and definitely embarrassing. lando shuffled awkwardly up to the front door, ringing the bell as he rocked backwards and forwards on the balls of his feet. when the door swung open to reveal theo, max’s brother, lando momentarily wondered if he needed to book a haircut with the younger fewtrell, before his thoughts were cast aside by the flash of confusion on the face staring back at him. lando smiled sheepishly, never more uncomfortable in his life.

“first max turns up a week early, and now you? what the fuck happened in greece?” were the first words that theo spoke, tilting his head in confusion.

“is he here?” lando enquired, deciding to cut the bullshit and skip the pleasantries, following suit.

“upstairs in his room, hasn’t said a word. what happened?” theo quirked an eyebrow. lando was always a bit strange, sure, but never so on edge. lando, of course, ignored the question. sometimes media training did pay off.

“can i come in? i need to speak to him.” he didn’t realise how urgent he sounded until the words left him, an undoubtedly suspicious theo stepping aside and letting him in.

lando threw a ‘thank you’ over his shoulder, disappearing up the stairs. he was familiar with this house, easily navigating his way through the building that held so many childhood memories, memories that he would not allow to be tarnished. it only hit him that he’d fled greece and chased max across europe once max’s bedroom door came into sight. he froze, attempting to compose himself. it was futile, his breath shaky as he knocked on max’s door.

“what?” the clipped response sounded from the other side of the wood, drenched in angst. lando held his breath, swinging the door open. had it not been for the rather tense situation, lando would have squawked with laughter at the double take max did. “what the fuck?”

“we need to talk.” it seemed easier to get straight to the point. max didn’t exactly seem interested in pleasantries.

“could you not have called?” sarcasm drenched max’s voice, eyes narrowed and unforgiving.

“that’s not funny.” lando sighed, thinking about the many, many times his finger had pressed down on max’s name in his phone.

“my sincerest apologies.” sarcasm won out again, and lando wondered if this was a mistake.

“are you gonna hear me out? i did just fly here.” lando snapped, trying to reign it in, keep himself in check. he was getting desperate.

“and the damage is repaired. thanks so much for thinking of me.”

“all i’ve done is think about you.”

silence settled between them, lando’s words hanging heavy in the air. max’s face grew angrier, jawline tightening.

“and what is that supposed to mean?” max demanded, eyebrows furrowing.

“i’m here, aren’t i? i’m fucking here.” he was here and not with you, where he actually wanted to be. that had to count for something, had to show how much he valued max. realisation dawned in max’s eyes. lando was with him.

“you knew how i felt about her.” max stated. lando nodded. of course he knew, he felt it too. max sighed. “how long?”

lando was silent.

“how fucking long?”

“since that first day. i was relieved when she dumped you, but of course, you couldn’t let her go.” lando tried to lighten the mood but it didn’t translate. it didn’t help that he wasn’t really joking.

“are you trying to blame me?” max bit, eyes narrowing, just as lando thought he was getting somewhere.

“no! for fuck sake, of course i’m not. i just need you to understand.” lando ran his hand through his hair in frustration.

“how long has it been going on with her?” max’s voice was quieter, preparing for another blow.

“just that night. that one night.” lando quickly replied, anxious to reassure max that he wasn’t a total traitor.

“then it shouldn’t be hard to let her go.” max spoke the words so simply that lando almost couldn’t believe what he was hearing. his face fell, chest tightening.

“max-“

“i don’t want to do this, but i can’t sit back and watch you and her. i can’t fucking do it.” the volume of max’s voice crept up again, voice holding an edge of emotion that made lando ache.

“don’t be unreasonable.” lando almost whispered, words holding absolutely no persuasion. he knew it was over.

“don’t be unreasonable? do you hear yourself? you fucked my ex girlfriend! and you haven’t even fucking apologised to me, by the way.” max shook his head in disbelief, hurt all over again.

“i’m sorry. i’m sorry.” lando repeated the words feebly, suddenly exhausted, utterly utterly drained.

“promise me you won’t go any further with her.”

“please don’t do this.”

“you wouldn’t be here if this didn’t matter to you. promise me, lando.” max held lando’s gaze. it was too easy to crumble.

“i promise.”

the words triggered a minor sense of relief across max’s face and a bottomless pit of dread in lando’s stomach.

the months that followed dragged excruciatingly, like nails on a chalkboard.

the season started back up again, providing momentary relief for lando, but it was barely enough. he managed to avoid max as much as he could, until zandvoort, when max had turned up on a work obligation. it was frosty, tense between the two men, anyone could see that, but no one made the mistake of asking why. on paper, things were on the mend, but lando wondered if max would ever forgive him. he wondered if he’d ever forgive max.

whilst him and max weren’t exactly on the best of terms, at least they’d managed to make contact, the occasional twitch stream doing something to chip away at their icy relationship. you, on the other hand, couldn’t have been further away, whilst remaining painfully at the forefront of his mind. he was going insane, deprived of you for the longest period of time since he’d met you. it seemed a tad dramatic to say that your absence was killing him, but that didn’t make it any less true.

the netherlands blurred into italy, into singapore, into japan. lando couldn’t remember the last time he was at home. not monaco, monaco felt too hollow. he missed the uk. he missed running into you when he wasn’t even trying to. the second half of the season was crushing, an uphill battle. he couldn’t pretend he wasn’t lonely, it did get a bit too quiet for his liking when there was no one else along for the ride, quieter than it usually. no max, no you, miserable.

there was a glimmer of rest between japan and the usa, a brief trip to the uk to breathe. he had lunch with his parents, widened his eyes at how much his baby niece had grown, ruffled his younger sisters’ hair in the way only a big brother could. he had a day on the sim, going over things at the factory. it dragged. he was exhausted. the last thing he needed was to attend a friends birthday party, especially on a thursday night after a long week.

an expensive club in central london wasn’t the most appealing of spaces to lando. he preferred restaurants with friends, maybe indulging in a drink or two over dinner if he was feeling adventurous, but he definitely didn’t enjoy the club scene as much as he was supposed to. but it was dark enough in there to hide the bags under his eyes and the music was just about bearable. he knew he wasn’t the most present person in anyones life, so the least he could do was suck it up and stay for a few.

slumped on a barstool, lando was thankful that he made the effort, because one brief glance to his right set his sights on everything he’d been missing.

sad eyes, short black dress, a smile that made the world stop and anyone with sense lose their mind. you’d arrived. was breathing essential to being alive? it couldn’t be because lando certainly wasn’t breathing, and yet there he was, ready to fall to his knees.

lando was definitely sweating, chest tightening, heart beating faster than his mclaren had ever gone down a straight. he was absolutely at a loss for what he was supposed to do. he had no idea that you were coming, perhaps naively. not a lot of the usual suspects would be attending this birthday party, so he’d ever so stupidly assumed that you simply wouldn’t be either. max, for example, had been tied down by a work commitment and wouldn’t be in attendance.

max. max. max. max max max. max!

lando felt lightheaded.

as far as he was aware, you hadn’t clocked him and he wondered if he should keep it that way, no matter how tempting the alternative was. he swirled the drink in his hand, wrist relaxing as he let out a shaky breath. downing the burning liquor in one swift gulp seemed entirely logical, and so that’s what he did, succumbing to instant regret as he shivered the nasty taste away. lando swiftly swung around on the barstool, planting his now empty glass on the counter before placing his palms down on the cool surface. perks of being somewhere fancy: it wasn’t sticky. the coolness of the marble grounded him, allowing for a moment of clarity before the liquid he’d just thrown back seeped into his blood stream and made him weak. well, weaker.

he glanced around, realising that he’d lost you in the sea of people and strobe lights, wondering if he’d actually manage to get away unscathed. what if he’d imagined you? lando felt this strange pull, something that was keeping him in place. he wasn’t prepared to leave just yet. bravely, he actually turned his head, properly scanning the bar to look for your face. it wasn’t hard to find you this time, especially not when you were already staring back at him.

lando’s throat tightened, eyes holding yours, matching the intensity of your gaze. you truly were a sight for sore eyes, easily the prettiest person in the room. he wondered if the dimly lit bar had somewhat brightened for anyone else as soon as you’d walked in. he almost fell off the barstool when you you leaned in to one of your friends, still maintaining eye contact as you whispered in their ear. next thing he knew, you were making your way over. oh god, you were making your way over. he reached for the collar of his white dress shirt, tugging it to no avail; the material was already half unbuttoned anyway. he didn’t breath any easier.

lando turned away, facing the bar as the stool next to his dragged along the floor. he watched from the corner of his eye as you navigated yourself up onto the stool, the heels of your shoes barely grazing the floor as you slumped next to him. you must have looked like a right pair, emitting high levels of irrevocable sadness, and an unhealthy amount of lust. what a combination.

you grabbed the bartenders attention, waving her over.

“i’ll have two of whatever he’s having, please.” you called across the bar, tilting your head towards the lovesick driver.

he was trying to speak, but nothing but bated breath seemed to escape. almost immediately, two glasses had landed in front of you both. without even looking his way, you held your glass out to clink it with his, quickly taking a sip once he’d fumbled his way to respond, knocking his chilled glass with yours.

“fuck, you’re on the strong stuff.” you choked out, probably not expecting something so bitter in your lightweight drinking partners glass. lando barked out a laugh, entirely humourless. he was in agony. “really? nothing to say to me?” you continued, finally turning your body to face him. he continued staring forward, debating his next move.

“thank you for the drink.” lando replied, planting his hands back on the counter to rise from the barstool and leave. he had to leave. his self control was surely fleeting, his patience for other peoples feelings wearing increasingly thin.

“wait!” he didn’t get very far, a hand much smaller than his own flying instinctively to grab at his forearm. he froze in place, eyes widening at your touch and the embarrassing rush of warmth in his chest. your eyes were stormy, some kind of internal battle taking place. “can’t keep watching you leave.” you seemed to whisper the words in the noisy club, yet he heard you perfectly, almost trembling under your touch.

“does it make any difference to know that i don’t want to leave?” lando offered.

“no.” you scoffed, pouting at him.

he tilted his head, offering you his hand, which you didn’t hesitate to take. you rose to your feet, falling into step behind him as he guided you through the club. he needed to talk to you properly, somewhere quiet. you found yourselves out in the smoking area, neither of you having the intention of lighting one up, but at least you were alone. dangerous territory. last time, it had almost cost him dearly.

“i’m sorry that i left.” lando planted himself against the wall, as far away as he could physically be, implementing what he hoped was a safe distance between you.

“yeah? you should be.” you muttered, crossing your arms defensively.

“i didn’t know what to do. i thought that maybe if i spoke to him…” lando trailed off, lost in the memory of max’s words. promise me, lando.

“that he’d be okay with it? come on, lando.” you rolled your eyes.

“not my finest plan. i tried.” he pathetically reasoned.

“wish you’d tried with me.” your comment took him aback. it seemed unfair, cruel. hadn’t you both agreed that it was a one time thing?

“we knew that night, we both knew what we were getting into.”

“yeah, well, doesn’t make it any easier.”

“what would you do? huh? what would you do if you were me?” lando practically begged for your answer, holding himself back against the wall.

you were silent. lando pushed himself off the wall, beginning to pace the small space, met with waves of frustration. you just stood there watching, arms still crossed.

“god, this is a fucking joke.” you scoffed again, moving to block his path. he stopped in his tracks, refusing to meet your eyes.

“yeah, fucking hilarious.” he muttered.

it was completely still between you, no movement but the rise and fall of your chests, syncing up as the space between you grew smaller and smaller. shit.

gently, your fingers wrapped around his shirt sleeve, pulling him a tad closer. he was in trouble. you were destined to be the death of him. he felt your fingertips graze the skin of his wrist, a shiver running down his spine.

“i missed you.” you whispered. his head shot up, finally meeting your eyes.

“you know i missed you too.” he murmured, relaxing further into your touch. lando was convinced to had your own magnetic force field.

“i didn’t, actually.” there she was, the tease that he’d missed more than anything.

“haven’t stopped thinking about you.” lando breathed, giving up the fight. he needed you to know that you were at the centre of his every thought.

“what a coincidence, haven’t stopped thinking about you either.” your hand that wasn’t working its way into his own landed softly against his chest, slowly grazing up until you were gently stroking his neck.

“don’t know if i’ll ever get over you.” all sense was lost.

“i don’t want you to.” you whispered, cupping his cheek. the fingers of your other hand were now laced with his.

“good.” he shuffled forwards, any remaining distance lost to your shared urgency.

“i want you, lando. think i always will.” mere centimetres separated you now, alcohol laced breath mingling.

“you’re driving me crazy.” you smiled at that, nose bumping against his.

“one more time.” you muttered, closing the gap, peppering kisses across his jaw. lando’s eyes rolled back.

“we can’t.” lando spoke with so little conviction that he may as well have fucked you right there in the smoking area.

“says who?” you crooned deviously in his ear.

“fuck.” lando panted, pulling you away from his neck, where you had moved your kisses.

with hooded eyes and no more hesitation, lando cupped your face, pulling your lips to his. you hummed against his lips, fingers threading through his hair to keep him close. the kiss was firm, full of things that should have been said months ago, tongues brushing slowly as he held you as close as he could. as you broke away, breathing heavy, you gripped the collar of his now creased shirt, tugging on the material, your other hand still playing with his curls.

“take me home.” you didn’t need to tell him twice.

getting you back to the apartment he stayed in when he was in the city was easy. he’d hailed a taxi, your lips attached to his neck the entire time you were stood on the pavement. he had you wrapped in his arms, shielding you from the chilly october air, while you marked up his skin. once you’d begun the journey back to his place, you managed to behave yourself, despite pulling his hand to sit up high on your bare thigh. lando paid the fare, helping you out of the taxi, the pair of you scurrying into the lobby of the building and into the elevator.

he kissed you again, pressing you against the wall as you travelled up to his floor. you rolled your hips, testing the waters, hearing him groan into your mouth at your teasing. lando held you there for the duration of the journey, lips moving with yours. the ding of the elevator broke you out of your trance and you smiled into the kiss, pulling away. hand in hand, he guided you into his apartment.

the need for one another took precedent, and you quickly found yourselves in the bedroom. the months that had passed went by slowly, too slowly. you both needed it, you could talk after.

lando paused, standing in the doorway as he watched you walk further into the room. he smiled softly, finally feeling at ease. you were so beautiful, and he needed to show you, but he needed a second to take it all in. you, there, with him. just the two of you. you noticed that he’d stopped, turning back to face him.

“hey, you.” you called, reaching your hand out for him. “come here.” he quickly obeyed. he could see the lust in your eyes, the prettiest colours in the world darkened slightly, pupils blown. something softer swirled underneath, and he lost himself.

“gonna let me show you how much i missed you?” lando lowered his lips to your ear, tongue dragging across the skin beneath it. his hands found a home on your waist, spinning you around so that you were flush against him. again, you rolled your hips, body trembling in his big hands.

“need you, lando.” you whined, feeling his fingers skim your collarbone as he pushed your hair out of his way and over your shoulder.

he hummed against your skin, lips working over your neck, open mouthed kisses leaving you panting. his hands smoothed down your back, over the material of your silky black dress. he bunched the material on the way back up, tugging it until he was pulling it over your head. the dress quickly became an afterthought, dropped to the floor in a heap. lando grabbed at your waist again, gently turning you back around to face him. you looked at him through your eyelashes, shy under his intense stare.

your fingers made quick work of the buttons on his shirt, the few that were still done up. you pushed it off of lando’s shoulders, running your nails down his bare chest. your hands trailed down his abs, fiddling with his belt, and then the button on his jeans. lando kicked them off, the both you standing there in your underwear.

“on the bed.” lando breathed, walking you backwards.

lando picked you up at the last second, lowering you down onto the duvet, quickly slotting himself between your spread legs. your arms were around his neck, bringing his lips against yours. he felt you shiver against him, his hands grazing your sides, as he kissed down your neck, over your collarbone.

lando kissed over the lace of your bra, mouthing at the material as his fingers slotted behind your arched back, unhooking the clasp. he didn’t linger, quickly tearing it away from your chest. he let out a content sigh, lapping at your nipple, fingers tweaking the other. his tongue swirled, teeth making a cheeky appearance that had you gasping as he bit down. you felt his mouth leave you, fingers still grazing your body.

“did you miss me, baby?” lando’s breath fanned across the valley of your breasts as he spoke, your stomach tightening.

“you know i did.” you muttered, staring down at him.

“how much?” he smirked, kissing the flush skin of your chest. he felt like teasing.

“lando.” you warned, threading a hand through his curls. he breathed out a laugh.

“i know, baby, i know.” he resumed his kisses down your body, fingers slipping beneath the band of your underwear. ever so slowly, he began to pull them down, tugging at the band, letting it snap against your skin. you sighed in frustration, pulling on his hair. he grinned, the most genuine smile he’d been able to muster in what felt like forever. it grew when he saw that you couldn’t help but smile back.

he kissed along your navel, finally peeling your panties down your legs. he had you naked beneath him again, finally, and he couldn’t let a moment go to waste.

he took you apart, your legs thrown over his broad shoulders. everything seemed to be moving in flashes, the room disappearing. all he could see was you, hair fanned across his pillow, glowing under the dim lighting, your taste overwhelming him. you thrashed against him, his tongue and his fingers working blissfully until all you could see was white and all you could hear was his name, tumbling from your lips like a prayer.

when he’d kept going, throwing you helplessly over the edge for the second time, you’d let out a cry, gasping through the pleasure that you’d both been so tragically deprived of for too long. he didn’t know if he could stop, didn’t know if he could possibly exercise the type of restraint he’d need to pull himself from between your shaking legs, but your hand in his hair managed to pull him back to reality. he didn’t know where you’d found the strength but he was hovering over you again.

lando took in the sight of you, messy hair, tear stained face, eyes shot with adrenaline, exhaustion. you flashed him a heart stopping grin, eyes fluttering shut as your chest heaved, and he crumbled again, for the millionth time that evening. giving you a second to breath, he brought his soaked fingers to his lips, licking away the mess you’d made. the groan he let out was animalistic, your eyes shooting open.

the kiss you shared was messy, laced with traces of you on his tongue and a clash of teeth. he settled between your thighs, your hands pushing his underwear down until he laid bare on top of you.

“you have no idea how much i missed you. no idea.” lando muttered, lining himself up. he ran the tip of his cock through your folds, slowly pushing inside. you whined, clinging onto him as he moved his hips until you were full. he stilled, hand brushing the hair from your eyes, which were piercing his own.

there was nothing else. there was no max and no time apart, no sad eyes and missed opportunities. there was you, and there was him, and that was it.

“need you to move.” you moaned, fingers digging into his shoulder blades.

lando’s hips retracted slowly, before he was setting a delicious rhythm. he rocked into you at the perfect pace, hips hitting yours. your eyes has rolled back in your head, his own remaining fixed on the way your face moved, eyelashes dusting your cheeks, the creases in your forehead, the way you kept smiling as the pleasure took its hold.

he was dizzy, utterly ruined as he fucked you. your touch left him weak, oblivious to anything else. it didn’t matter what happened after this, he would never regret it, no matter how dire the consequences. you were heavenly around him, squeezing him so tight as you had your way with him. he was teetering on the edge, on the verge of a beautiful collapse, but all that mattered was you.

lando rutted his hips, watching your body spasm as he hit that spot over and over, his fingers sliding between your sweat dampened bodies to find your overstimulated clit. a few messy circles and you’d had it, a broken scream of his name tearing from the back of your throat.

his name. no one else’s.

that was enough for lando, all he needed to hear to send him catapulting into the abyss, vision bright white as he collapsed on top of you. he could feel you shuddering, kissing your neck to try and dull the aftershocks.

you stayed there entangled for god knows how long, unmoving in one another’s embrace. you were so warm against him that lando couldn’t bring himself to move. it was serene, the peace of having you beneath him, wrapped around him, stroking his hair lazily while he panted into the crook of your neck. the peace of knowing that he wouldn’t need to sneak away at the break of dawn. when he eventually mustered the strength to pull himself away, you whined.

“where are you going?” you groaned, as he stood from the bed.

“just getting something to clean you up, baby.” lando replied, slipping into the en-suite.

he returned a few moments later with a flannel, wiping over your thighs before tossing it with his laundry. lando quickly pulled the covers back, climbing into the bed beside you. you rolled over, draping yourself over his chest, his arm winding around your shoulders securely.

“stay tonight.” lando whispered. it wasn’t a question, nor was it a demand. it was his way of pleading, of keeping you close for as long as he could. he felt you nod your head in agreement.

“didn’t wanna go anyway.” you giggled, eyes still shut. you could have easily fallen asleep.

“don’t want you to go. don’t want to lose you again.” lando mumbled. he felt you tense up. you weren’t laughing anymore.

“don’t get my hopes up.” you whispered back, burying your face in his chest, as if you were hiding from him. the cracks in his heart that your evening together had bandaged up began to splinter.

“i’ll fix this. we can fix it.” lando affirmed, begging that you’d listen. all the time spent with you reminded him that without you, he was miserable.

“i wish that was true.” you sighed. he clung on to the fact that you were still here. he could convince you, he was sure of it.

“i’ll deal with him. he has to understand.” lando alluded, cupping your cheek.

“lando, stop-“ you argued.

“please, just let me try. i want you. fuck, i need you.” he really, really did. you seemed to soften at that, frustrated expression melting away.

you craned your neck, leaning up to peck his lips. all of his worries dissipated then, and he knew that he belonged to you. lando knew that this was it, that you and him were headed somewhere. it was good, this thing between you, feelings that he’d never felt, that he didn’t even have labels for, surfacing at even the briefest glance, the softest touch.

as you fell asleep in his arms to soft kisses on your forehead, lando laid there staring at the ceiling. he’d just betrayed his best friend. again. but that wasn’t what was keeping him from falling asleep.

no, what was keeping lando awake was the fact that he simply didn’t care; how could he with you sleeping so soundly next to him? and that scared him more than anything else. as far as lando was concerned, max had his chance, and he blew it. lando would be damned if he made the same mistake.

the things you did to him, the hold you had, it was almost frightening. and with every deep breath you took, he fell deeper and deeper.

when he woke up to your body pressed against his, feeling more refreshed than he had since august, lando smiled. he hadn’t even opened his eyes yet and you had him smiling. what kind of fool did that make him?

your catlike stretching and urgent need for coffee had driven the pair of you out of bed, despite how much lando hated the stuff and the both of you wanting to spend the morning tearing one another to shreds. you figured you had the rest of the day to get to that. you’d laughed as he threw his shirt at you, the sleeves too long. it hit mid thigh, the pair of you ignoring the creases as lando pulled you into him, rolling up the sleeves. he smirked at the goosebumps that littered your skin, left behind in the wake of his touch. you shoved his shoulder at his cocky smile.

lando made you a coffee, all of that work experience at mclaren finally paying off as he slid it across the counter towards you. you smiled, grateful, taking a sip. he pottered around the kitchen for a while, mumbling something about not knowing how to cook without setting the kitchen on fire. you were endeared as you watched him, leaning across the counter, resting your elbows on the surface. it was domestic and it was a long time coming.

neither of you wanted it to end, but you knew that important steps needed to be taken. lando was already mapping out the blueprints for what he would say to max, willing to grovel on his knees if that’s what it took.

it was lucky that lando was so accustomed to quick thinking, because the sound of keys in the lock made him realise that the grovelling would be starting a lot sooner than anticipated. there was only one other person with a set of keys. you know, for emergencies. lando was pretty certain that there was about to be an emergency.

your heart plummeted as the door swung open, the dress shirt hanging loosely off of your body doing little to preserve anyones dignity. max’s face fell immediately, the cogs in his brain spinning into action as he took in the disheartening sight before him.

hickeys, bare legs and messy hair. a train wreck.

this was becoming an unfortunate habit.

sorry max lol

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muffinlance · 1 year

Text

Hello Dragons Here: Gaang Meeting Outtakes

Alternates to part four. Or read part one here.

Take 2: Hallway Meet & Greet

So they tried his office, but that was empty too, and there was only so long they could wander the palace before they were caught.

“I think it’s tactical retreat time,” Sokka whispered, as they huddled in an empty corner of the halls. “As long as they don’t know we were here, we can try again another night. We’ll just park Appa up in the mountains and… dragon?”

“What?” asked Katara.

“Baby dragon,” Sokka said, pointing down. The ferret-cat sized dragon blinked up at him, its snakey tongue flickering from its mouth. Aang resisted the urge to squeal.

“Please come back,” came a very tired voice, right before a teenager who walked really quietly rounded the corner and straight into them. Kind of literally. Sokka reached out to steady him, as he wobbled post-impact. And then they had a Fire Nation servant that they really couldn’t let leave blinking at them.

“...You’re very short assassins,” said the teenager. Whose long hair was partially tied up in a frazzled bun, but mostly down his back. And whose sleep robe was really rumpled. And who was blinking at them through a pair of glasses that were almost an exact match for the ones in fashion at King Kuei’s court, like he’d gotten them from the same artisan. And also there were some ink stains on his face, like maybe he’d fallen asleep on some still-drying documents. So… maybe a scribe? The stains were on the scared side of his face, which was where the Fire Lord was supposed to have one, but his was smaller on his face than the portraits Ozai had commissioned, especially with the way the hair fell over it. And Aang also knew from Ozai how much the Fire Lord liked sharing his facial scars with the people around him.

“We’re, ah. New hires?” Sokka said.

“I,” the teenager said, “am not dealing with this. I am taking Druk back to the hatchery, and then I’m finishing my work, and then I’m going to bed. If you’re assassins, make an appointment.”

“Is that… something assassins usually do?” Aang asked.

“They should,” the teenager said.

Take 1: In a Happier World

Did I write an entire prompt reply only to scrap it and replace it with Sifu Ozai? Yes. Yes I did. The original:

Aang is escorted between bending teachers, kept away from exploring. Kept away from the Fire Nation, and most of the coastlines of the Earth Kingdom, which are called the colonies now.

The first thing he was told, when he woke up, was There was a war. It lasted for ninety-eight years.

The second thing was, It’s over now.

No one tells him, but by the time he’s studying earthbending, he knows the third: It’s over because the Fire Lord said so.

“But… it’s good he ended it, right?” Aang asks that night, in the safety of his room with Sokka and Katara, who started as his escorts from the Southern Tribe but ended up as friends. He thinks they’re friends.

“It’s good he’s not marching new armies into places,” Sokka says, staring up at the ceiling. “Less good, that he hasn’t marched the old armies back out.”

“If he’d ended it a year earlier, our mother would be alive,” says Katara, her face to the wall.

Fire Lord Zuko celebrated his sixteenth birthday just before the winter solstice, when Aang was still in the south pole. The Avatar was sent a formal invitation to attend. But Aang had… he’d been awake for only a few weeks. All he’d wanted to do was go home. He’d tried, and—

And going into the Avatar state had apparently alerted sages the world over to his existence. So. That was great. The Fire Lord’s hawk carried another message, as unsaid as so many other things: I know exactly where you are, Avatar.

Chief Hakoda politely declined on his behalf.

He trained under the same master as Katara; one of the women who’d come south, when the blockades between the poles had been lifted. He wasn’t a natural healer like the Chief’s daughter, but it… it was good, healing. Healing was what he needed. Waterbending had a fighting branch, too, and he could go to the north pole if he wanted to learn it, but they’d already turned Katara away and. And he didn’t see what learning how to drown someone, or cut them with ice, would help. They sent an offer, to send one of their best masters south.

Gran-Gran declined on his behalf. He didn’t read what she’d written, so he could pretend it was polite.

The Earth Kingdom was… it was fracturing. Ba Sing Se had been the cultural and political center in Aang’s time, and it was still supposed to be a great city, but it was great because it had expanded its walls to ring in enough farmland for itself and then… sort of ignored what was going on outside them, for the next few decades. The generals living there still plotted tactics, still lead the armies, but the nobility lived like there wasn’t even a war. And then the news came out that the Earth King really hadn’t known about the war, and.

Aang was in Gaoling when the news hit. The Beifong family had invited him to stay during his travels, and Sokka had a firm always-accept-free-stuff-from-rich-people policy, so. So he got to look out over their estate walls as people rioted. When he finally made it to Omashu, Bumi took one look at the girl who’d kidnapped herself into his saddle and snorkel-snorted. And then they’d had an arm-wrestling contest over who got to teach him. Toph cheated, but so did Bumi, so it was fair?

“Two cheats make a right,” Sifu Toph told him.

“No they don’t,” said Katara.

Toph declared him a passable earthbender. Within the week, another hawk from the Fire Lord arrived: an invitation to be tutored by Crown Princess Azula herself.

I know exactly how much you’ve learned, the letter didn’t say. It didn’t have to.

“So,” said Toph, “we’re coming with to see how creepy this guy is in person, right?”

Aang was so, so glad for his friends.

And now they were in a suite of rooms in the palace, graciously being allowed the night to recover from their travels, before their meeting with the Fire Lord and his heir in the morning.

“On the bright side,” said Sokka, which was never a phrase that ended well from him, “if he wanted to assassinate you, he’s known where you are for months.”

“Thanks, Sokka,” Aang said. And went for a walk, in the palace halls, because… Because.

Because he was the Avatar. And no one was saying it outright, but every time they said The war is over what they meant was Because the Fire Lord forced the terms. Because he offered to stop killing our people if we signed. Because he has dragons, dragons big enough to scorch armies to ashes without ever getting in range of benders or archers, and no one can fight against that.

No one but the Avatar. Master of all four elements, if he did what every nation in the world had done, and accepted the Fire Lord’s generous offer.

“He’s not even offering to teach you himself,” Sokka had snorted, when he’d first read the letter. “What, is he too busy counting his war spoils?”

The halls were quiet. Aang was looking for one of those courtyard gardens they’d seen from the air, but what he found instead was—

“No, come back, why can’t you stay in the hatchery—”

A very frazzled young man, and a very noodly baby dragon, who both slid around a corner with the same scrabbling-over-polished-floors grace and crashed right into him.

“Umm,” said Aang. “Oww?”

“Catch him,” ordered the young man, as the dragon wormed its way between them and bolted again.

And then Aang was on a baby dragon chase which was... probably exactly what he needed. At least, he was out of breath and laughing by the end of it, and his new friend was grumpily down an outer robe, which had been sacrificed to the cause of bundling the baby into a sort of squirmy burrito-pretzel. Also it kept trying to light the robe on fire with its dragonbreath, and the teenager kept blowing his own sparks which somehow swirled with the fire and put it out, and Aang absolutely had to know—

“Can you teach me to do that?”

“Uh,” said the teenager, leaning back from Aang’s face, which was maybe a little closer to his own than most people found comfortable. But they were dragon buddies, like he and Kuzon had been, so it was totally justified. “I’m, uh. Not really that good? I barely have any time to practice real forms, the dragons just have me play games and creatively roast their meat—”

“But you’re breathing rainbows.”

“...Please don’t say it like that in front of my sister.”

“I won’t,” Aang said, smile broadening, “if you teach me. And come meet my friends!”

The teenager didn’t say no, and Aang recognized this hallway, so he hooked their arms together and dragged him off.

“Guys!” Aang said, sliding open their door. “I met the palace dragonsitter!”

“...Please don’t say that in front of my sister, either,” the teenager sighed.

“That’s nice, Aang,” said Sokka. “Hello, dragonsitter. How does it feel, to be kidnapped?”

“Familiar,” said the teenager, in a kind of worrying deadpan. “I really need to get Druk back to the hatchery. I’ll… see you tomorrow?”

“Nuh-uh,” said Toph. “This is my first team kidnapping. No leaving until we get a ransom.”

“...I can order snacks?” offered the teen.

“We’re keeping you,” Toph said. “Now get us more of those fire flakes. Snozzles keeps trying not to cry while eating them, it’s hilarious.”

“It is not my fault they are both delicious and trying to kill me,” Sokka said.

“...I’ll send tea, too,” the teenager said. “But, uh. I really should… not be here?”

“Relax,” Sokka said, slinging an arm over his shoulders. “It’s not like we’re going to snitch on you to the Fire Lord.”

The dragonsitter mumbled something Aang couldn’t quite catch, but it sounded a lot like I can see the family resemblance. But he got a passing servant to send for their snacks, and he let the little dragon down for some supervised exploration that ended in all of Sokka’s emergency seal jerky being gulped down its throat as it ran circles around the room, and the teenager finally sat down and leaned back and laughed, which Aang wasn’t sure was a thing he did a lot of.

And then he met them the next morning, in formal robes, on his throne.

“...Hello, Sifu Rainbows!” Aang said, and the girl next to His Majesty cackled.

#Azula: This is the best casual roasting

#since you came back home to father

#Zuko: can you please not use that comparison every time

#Azula: absolutely not <3

#All Adults: terrified of the Fire Lord

#Team Avatar: terrorizing the Fire Lord

#and then they broke it to him that people had signed his peace treaties under pain of dragon eating

#Zuko: THEY DON’T EVEN EAT PEOPLE

#Sokka: thank you for that information Fire Lord Dragonsitter

(Read more prompts || Longer ATLA fics || Original works)

#Hello Dragons Here #Avatar The Last Airbender #atla #Zuko #Sokka #Katara #Aang #Ran and Shaw #outtakes #ficlet

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outerspacebisexual · 2 years

Text

Heinous Regret With No Salvation - Eddie Munson

Part Four of Until the Chaos is Through & What Remains in the Wake & Blessed Silence After This Mayhem

Part One - Until the Chaos is Through

Part Two - What Remains in the Wake

Part Three - Blessed Silence After This Mayhem

Summary: Eddie chooses to betray you. He comes to realise it's the worst thing he's ever done.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Word count: 5.1k

Warnings: angst, cheating (both referenced/implied and described), swearing, injuries, also! remember! we love chrissy irl! but in this, she can burn in hell

a/n: this is the FINAL final part of this little series. it's a full eddie pov, and it's just pure angst

thank you again for how much support i've received for this chaos series

my requests are open!

<3 aeia

Masterlist

Eddie wasn’t sure when it had started, that funny feeling he got when he was with Chrissy.

It definitely hadn’t been there the first time he sold her drugs. He had been kind, friendly, just like he was with most of his clientele, but nothing had gone beyond their shy smiles and an awkward handshake.

It wasn’t until their third deal that he noticed it; the fluttery feeling in the pit of his stomach, the growing tension between them. It became intoxicating, like a fix he couldn’t get with anyone else. An itch only she could scratch.

Truth be told, you didn’t even cross his mind during those deals. It was only afterwards, when he walked back to his van or into the school that he remembered he was supposed to meet you at your locker at the start of lunch, or that you had been waiting for him to take you home.

He’d never had anyone before you, and you had been his friend before you were his partner. You had always been comfortable, always constantly there for him, unwavering in your devotion.

And he loved you.

But with Chrissy, their spark was red hot and intense, new and exciting. She was a cheerleader for fucks sake. A cheerleader who was into him, the town freak.

The first time things went beyond their brash words and unfulfilled fantasies, he was in shock. Because Chrissy Cunningham was kissing him. Hot and needy, her lips trailing along his jaw and down his neck as he threw his head back and brushed his hands over her waist.

It wasn’t until he found you waiting for him in the parking lot chatting casually with Dustin that the guilt hit him. Your face lit up, just like it always did when you saw him, and your hands came to his chest—right where Chrissy’s had been just ten minutes before.

The fluttering in his stomach soured into a pool of regret, the feeling sticky and repulsive as he kissed you like nothing was wrong, like he hadn’t just betrayed you in the worst way possible.

He took you home that afternoon and you laid in his lap, your fingers toying with the ends of his hair absentmindedly, weaving through it in the way Chrissy did when they sat across from each other at the table in the woods.

The nauseating feeling had stayed with him all weekend, creeping into his mind at the worst moments.

By the time Monday rolled around, he could barely look at you.

He hastily pressed a kiss to your temple before racing off to his next class. He drowned out Mrs. Click’s words as he sat in the middle of the room, head resting on his hand, until the bell rang. He took his time packing up his books, and right before he finished, a note landed on his desk.

Chrissy didn’t look at him as she passed by him, pretending that she hadn’t even noticed him.

With a quick glance either side of him, he opened the note, met by her pretty handwriting in glossy pink pen.

Take me to my place after school? My parents aren’t home.

He ditched your plans that night for the first time.

The sneaking around was exhilarating.

It became all he could think about when he passed Chrissy in the halls, barely more than a split-second glance between them.

He got a sick sense of satisfaction whenever he saw Jason. The knowledge that he, Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson, was sleeping with the jock’s pretty, perfect girlfriend was an amusement worth more than all the taunts he received from the basketball captain.

Eddie pretended not to notice the way that you drew back. He pretended not to notice the crestfallen expressions that morphed into doubtful looks when he cancelled yet another date or told you he couldn’t take you home.

He pretended not to notice. Until eventually, he didn’t.

He didn’t see you eying Chrissy with wary caution, disbelieving that he was capable of it. He didn’t see your teary eyes as you traversed the school corridors without him when usually you were joined at the hip.

He didn’t see that you were trying everything in your power to keep him looking at you, to keep him loving you, even when the self-doubt was threatening to swallow you whole.

The library was practically empty after school, most of the students escaping from Hawkins High as soon as the bell rang out.

Eddie was sat at the back of the library, waiting for you to return from the bathroom.

In truth, he didn’t know why he was even bothering to study. Math was math, and he wouldn’t ever need it after graduation anyway. But you had been persistent that he needed the practice to pass the exam in a week.

He fiddled with his pencil, tapping it to a song in his mind as he waited, his blank notebook staring back at him. His rhythm faltered, however, when he caught sight of Chrissy.

She appeared from between the shelves with feline grace, placing her palms on the edge of his table and leaning forward. “Are you going to the Halloween party?” she asked him, voice barely more than a whisper in the silent library.

Right, the Roland twins’ Halloween party next weekend. Robin had mentioned it to him two days ago and reminded him to tell you so that you would have time to organise your costume. He still hadn’t done that. “Yeah,” he replied, “I’m going.”

Her eyes lit up. “Great. I’m going, too.” She traced a finger over his rings and said before disappearing between the shelves again, “I’ll see you there.”

He only had ten seconds to recover from the sweet, sultry promise behind her words and then you were back, sliding into your seat across from him.

He blinked at you, and you furrowed your brows. “What?”

“Nothing. What were you saying about Pythagoras?”

Your eyes searched his face for a long moment, and Eddie kept it carefully blank. He prayed that you didn’t notice the flush to his cheeks.

Finally, you turned back to your textbook, explaining the formula for the fourth time.

“Did you catch Y/N the other day?” Steve asked barely audible over the music of the band on stage.

It was a Friday night, and they were sat opposite each other at The Hideout. It was rare that the two of them spent much time together by themselves anymore. Normally, there was at least one other person tagging along, whether it was Dustin or you, or Robin or Jonathan.

He hated to admit that Steve Harrington had gone from the popular jock he hated to one of his closest friends.

Eddie turned his attention from the band to Steve. “Huh?”

“Y/N,” he continued, “seemed pretty upset the other day when we drove home from school.”

Eddie frowned. He could tell by the way Steve twirled his bottle in his hands that he was trying to stay casual while still aiming to get something from him. Information about you it seemed. Eddie swigged a mouthful of beer, his attention caught between the band on stage and his friend. “What about?”

Steve appeared a touch surprised. “I don’t know. I thought you would know.”

He shook his head, only half interested in the conversation. “Does there always have to be something wrong?” Steve shot him an incredulous look, one that reeked of Are you serious? and Eddie averted his eyes to the tabletop.“I haven’t really been around for a few days. Between school and deals, I’ve been busy.”

He messed with the label on his beer, trying his best to appear calm and collected. There was no way that Steve or the others could know. He and Chrissy were careful, only meeting when they were sure no one else was around.

“Busy?” Steve arched a brow.

There was something about his tone that made Eddie pause. “Yeah. Busy.” He narrowed his eyes as Steve mumbled something beneath his breath that he couldn’t catch over the loud music. He wasn’t quite prickly, but there was a distinct implication that there was something wrong. “Problem, Harrington?”

Steve brought his beer to his mouth. “No. No problem.”

They stared at each other for a long moment until Eddie eventually backed down. He didn’t even know why he was getting defensive in the first place. This was Steve after all.

He turned his attention back to the band on stage, some middle-aged hard rock band that was just a tad out of time.

In doing so, he missed the set of Steve’s jaw as he studied him, the nonchalance towards your feelings setting off alarm bells in his head.

The random pop song Eddie didn’t care to name blaring from downstairs drowned out anything other than Chrissy’s breathless moans as he trailed kisses along her neck, guiding her to the bed they had found.

He didn’t even know whose room it was, and at this point, he didn’t care. All he cared about was the way she leaned into his touch, his rings tracing along the exposed skin of her waist.

She fell onto the bed, giggling as he grinned down at her. “I can’t believe we’re doing this here,” she whispered.

“Me either,” he laughed, crawling over her until his knees rested either side of her hips.

He knew that you were downstairs, sitting with Robin last time he checked. Chrissy leaned up and kissed him again, and any thought of you emptied from his mind. The only thing he cared about was the girl beneath him.

He reached down and gripped the hem of her shirt, pulling it over her head. Chrissy moaned as his lips moved further down her neck.

He opened his mouth to tease her about it when he heard voices coming towards the room. Voices that he recognised immediately.

“I’m telling you, man. The bathroom is somewhere up here,” Steve said.

“It’s not that I don’t believe you, it’s just that most of the time you’re wrong,” Jonathan replied, and the door handle rattled.

Eddie didn’t have time to move before the door was pushed open, casting light from the hallway into the dim room, illuminating his compromising position.

There was a good few seconds where the whole world went quiet, nothing but his racing heartbeat pounding in his ears as the three of them stared at each other. He saw it though, the moment that Steve and Jonathan went from confusion, to disbelief, to pure and unadulterated rage.

He slid off the bed, trying to put as much distance between himself and his friends as his whole face burned. Suddenly, the euphoria of their ruse was nothing but embarrassment and shame. “Guys—”

Steve crossed the room in four giant strides.

Eddie shrunk back, and before he could say anything, he was pinned to the wall.

Jonathan slammed the door shut with little more than a glance down the hall, no doubt looking for you—to ensure that you weren’t there to witness this. His eyes flickered to Chrissy, and she curled into herself on the bed, trying her best to become invisible under his intense gaze.

Eddie’s attention was ripped from them when Steve pushed him harder into the wall. “Are you serious, Munson?” he spat, right into his face.

“I—I—uh—” he stuttered. He had nothing. His mind was blank. There was nothing he could say or do that would make this better.

Then, Steve was throwing a punch.

The pain blossomed across his cheekbone, sharp against his dulled senses. He wanted to fight back, but Steve hit him again, this time closer to his eye. It sent him tumbling onto the carpet.

“Jonathan?” Nancy called from the hall, and Jonathan ducked his head out, just enough that Eddie could see Nancy’s eyes darting from her boyfriend to Steve to Eddie to Chrissy. It didn’t take her long to piece it together. Eddie’s face heated even more.

Jonathan mumbled something to her and she nodded, taking one step back, her eyes locked on Eddie before she took off down the hall.

In the back of his mind, he was worried about her destination—which he knew was you—but he could only focus on Steve’s fist as it swung and cracked him on the bridge of his nose.

It started bleeding instantly, and he groaned.

Steve gripped him by the shirt, pulling him up until there were mere inches between them. “If you even think about coming near Y/N after this, I’ll kill you, Munson.” There was a lethal calm about him, one that made the hair on the back of Eddie’s neck stand on end. He had never seen this side of Steve. Not ever. And he didn’t know anyone who had.

His eyes darted to Jonathan, but he wore the same murderous look as Steve, same promise beneath his usually blank face. Upon seeing his eyes on him, Jonathan shook his head, and as if he was too disgusted to even keep looking at him, he left the room.

Steve shook him, bringing his attention back to him. “That’s a fucking promise.” He shoved him into the ground, hard enough to jolt something in his neck as the back of his head met the carpet. Steve looked over to Chrissy, who was shaking and clutching her discarded shirt to her chest.

Steve just scoffed, and Eddie could see the fear in her eyes. Not at what Steve might do to her, but what Steve might say—if he would tell Jason.

Then, Steve was gone, leaving them alone.

And Eddie could only look at the ground, where his blood dripped onto the carpet, sinking into the plush along with the tears that sprung from his eyes.

Chrissy’s house was a lot more intimidating on a random Monday afternoon than it ever was when he was with her. The tall white poles lining the walkway guided him to the front door.

She hadn’t spoken to him in two days. He hadn’t expected her to just show up at the trailer park or appear in the drama rooms during D&D, but he thought that she might have called him. To talk about what happened on the weekend. To talk about them.

He rallied up his courage and rapped his knuckles against the mahogany door before he could talk himself out of it.

He waited in silence, praying that her parents weren’t home. Chrissy hadn’t shared much about her home life, but she had told him that her mother was a piece of work, and her father wasn’t much better, which was one of the reasons that they only came to her place when no one else was home.

A car drove down the street behind him and he turned, watching as it pulled into the driveway next door.

The elderly woman stared at him from inside the car, hesitating in getting out. She feared him, that much was clear. He knew he looked the odd one out in the upscale neighbourhood; his ripped jeans and band shirt making him stick out like a sore thumb.

The door in front of him was pulled open, and he was met with Chrissy’s confused face. “Eddie?” she said, and then quickly glanced behind her. She stepped out of the house, closing the door enough to mute their conversation from whoever was inside. “What are you doing here?” Her tone was a lot more hostile than he was expecting.

“What do you mean what am I—I’m here to talk about us,” he explained. “You were avoiding me today, so—”

“There is no ‘us’, Eddie,” she uttered, voice hushed.

He froze. “W-What?”

She looked back into the house, shutting the door an inch more. “You…You’re nice, but I’m with Jason.”

“Wait,” he managed, shaking his head as he tried to wrap his brain around what she was saying. “He doesn’t know?”

“No, of course not,” she replied, like he was stupid for even suggesting it.

He opened and closed his mouth a few times. “So, so what? You don’t—”

“Chrissy?” came a female voice from behind her.

The girl, who he recognised vaguely as the co-cheer captain, appeared from the hall, peeking through the gap Chrissy had left. She pulled the door open enough that Eddie could see the sneer on her face. “What the hell is the freak doing here?” she said, like he couldn’t hear her. Like he wasn’t a person who deserved any kind of respect at all.

Chrissy gave him an exaggerated once over. Gone was the soft tone that she was using with him, and in its place was Chrissy Cunningham, Queen of Hawkins High. “I honestly don’t know. It’s getting weird and creepy. How do you even know where I live?”

He could hear his own heart splinter inside his chest.

“Do you want me to call Jason?” her friend asked, eying him up and down like he was deranged.

He started backing away before he heard her answer.

He spun around, catching sight of the woman in the car, who had stepped out and was shooting accusatory looks in his direction, obviously under the belief that he was somehow in the wrong, that he was accosting two teenage girls in their home.

He could scarcely breathe as he clambered into his van, fumbling with the keys as he tried to start it. Once he did, he tore out of the street without a glance back at Chrissy’s house.

She didn’t want him.

His head swam as he drove through Hawkins with barely more than that one thought tumbling around his mind on repeat.

He had…he had ruined his relationship for someone who didn’t even want him.

As he thought about you, his chest squeezed, and the only place he wanted to be was with you.

On a whim, he took a hard left and circled back towards your house. Steve and Jonathan be damned. He could fix this. He would fix this.

There was no other option. He needed to fix this.

He needed you.

But as he approached your house, Nancy’s car was in the driveway. Nancy herself was scary enough, but if Jonathan was with her?

He pulled up opposite your house, looking up at the window to your bedroom. The window that he used to climb through when he missed you too much to even be apart while he was sleeping. The window he climbed through when you called him in tears about a fight with your parents.

His heart clenched even more at the thought of you inside. At how devastated you would be. At how badly he fucked up. The image of you curled up in your bed, tears coursing from your eyes sprung into his mind before he could stop it.

Once, he would have held you while you cried, brushing your tears away with his thumbs as he placed kisses to your swollen cheeks.

Now, he was the cause of them.

The feeling became too much, the guilt and shame and helplessness swimming around him in a dance of soul-searing regret that he couldn’t escape from.

Through blurry eyes, he drove off, just missing side-scraping the car parked in front of him.

When he reached the stop sign at the end of the street, he pulled up and released the hold he had on himself.

He cried, winding his hands into his hair and pulling in exasperation. The pain burst from his scalp, but he didn’t care. He didn’t care about the tears that were hot on his cheeks. “Fuck!” he screamed to himself, and pounded the steering wheel with his fists.

He misjudged his right hand and hit the dash, causing something to fall to the floor with the familiar sound of plastic hitting the metal sheeting.

Through teary eyes, he picked it up. It was a cassette that you bought him a little over three months ago. Not even for his birthday or for Christmas, just because you were walking through the store and saw it and thought he might like it.

You were just like that.

You loved him enough to think about him in the tiniest little ways. You went out of your way to make him happy, even before you thought of yourself.

He sniffled as he put the tape into the player.

You loved him with everything you had.

And all he had given you in return was heartbreak and deceit.

Eddie barely made it inside before he collapsed on his couch, clutching at his side where he knew bruises would be already forming.

Lately, he had resorted to eating lunch by himself in the drama rooms.

When Gareth, Jeff, Angus, Mike, Lucas, and Dustin had found out about what he’d done, they made their thoughts clear. There had been an incident in the cafeteria involving you and Chrissy, one that his friends had all been witness to.

They found him that afternoon as he was setting up for their weekly meeting.

They didn’t care that he was their DM. They had handed over their shirts with barely more than a ‘Have fun finding a new party, asshole’. It turned out that the loyalty meant nothing in the face of his actions.

He was an outcast amongst the outcasts.

That incident also led to Jason finding out. Today, he found him in the drama rooms at lunch, Chrissy hot on his tail as she spouted excuses and pleas for him to listen to her.

He hadn’t. And Eddie had copped the full force of his fury. He deserved it, but he thought that maybe Chrissy would have cared about him enough to tell him to stop. But she just cried for herself, begging Jason to forgive her while he continued his assault.

That was the thought that stayed with him as he limped to his van, and then the whole drive home.

She didn’t care.

She never had. It was the reason that they snuck around, meeting up only on her terms, when she wanted. He squeezed his eyes shut as he thought about you. About how you never cared about his reputation. You always wanted to be with him. You wanted to hold his hand in the halls and sit with him at lunch.

You had cared.

A door down the hall opened up, and Eddie was surprised to see Wayne still getting ready for work.

“Aren’t you supposed to be at work?” he asked, watching Wayne take out his lunchbox from the fridge.

“I’m on late starts this week,” his uncle replied, grabbing a cap from the counter. He looked over at Eddie for the first time and blinked as he took in his crumpled shirt and bruised face. “The hell happened to you, boy?”

“Nothing. Just a kid at school,” he mumbled. There was no point in going into it in any more detail. Wayne was silent for long enough that Eddie looked back to him.

“Where was Y/N?”

Eddie started. “What?”

“The whole time you two’ve been together, you ain’t never come home like that. So, what happened?”

Eddie opened his mouth but paused. The whole time you and Eddie had been together, you had kept him out of trouble. You had used what little social credit you had to ensure that he was left alone, mostly to your own detriment. The familiar feeling of anguish rose from the pit of his stomach.

He swallowed harshly. “We, uh, we split up.” Not a complete lie, but he couldn’t bear the thought of the disappointment on Wayne’s face at the disgrace.

Wayne was quiet again, the heater the only sound ringing out through the trailer.

“Kept you out of trouble, that one,” Wayne said finally, and he pursed his lips. “Shame.”

Wayne was reserved on his best days, but Eddie could tell that he wanted to know more. “Yeah,” he muttered, biting his lip hard enough to dull the stinging behind his eyes.

It was a shame.

Before he could even open the door to Family Video, Robin was pissed.

She paused from where she was sorting tapes behind the counter, her gaze cold as he entered the store.

“Hey,” he greeted.

She gave him a once over, and he knew she caught everything. His pale face, the bags under his eyes, the bruises that had faded to a yellowy-green around the scabs. “What do you want, Munson?”

There it was. The use of his last name. He wanted to cry. None of his friends had ever called him by it before. It was always Eddie, or Ed, or Edward when he was being an ass. Never Munson.

It caused his father to flash behind his eyes. The man he hated. The man who he swore he would never be like. But he had done the exact thing to you that his piece of shit father did to his mother.

A lump rose in his throat at the comparison.

“I—uh—” he started. He wasn’t entirely sure why he was there. To see Robin. To talk to her about you.

He had hoped that his friends would have warmed up a little in the weeks since the Halloween party. There had been radio silence from Steve. No offers to meet up for beers at The Hideout. No phone calls.

From Robin, Nancy, and Jonathan, he received the same cold shoulder whenever he passed them in the halls or sat next to them in class. Jonathan had even gone as far as to shove him with his shoulder hard enough to make him stumbled in the middle of the corridor.

And there had been absolutely no sight of you.

He didn’t know if that was on purpose, or if he was just noticing the lack of you everywhere he went.

He hoped that Robin would shed some light on the situation. That maybe she would tell you how you had been and when he could see you. He hoped that maybe she would help him.

Shaking his head, his eyes darted around at the tapes on the shelves. “I’m here for…a video,” he finished lamely.

She rolled her eyes. “Then pick one and get out.” She turned back to the tapes in front of her, sorting them by what looked like genre. When he didn’t move, she collected the tapes in her arms and started towards the back room.

“Robin, wait—”

“Don’t even try,” she said, her voice ice cold. “I’m not interested in hearing your pathetic little sob story.” And then she disappeared out the back.

A very obvious Get the fuck out.

Walking down the main street brought him nothing but the memory of you punching him in the face two months ago.

He had avoided going anywhere for months. He stayed holed up in his trailer when he wasn’t at school, avoiding the disappointed gaze of his uncle.

Wayne had been vocal in just how much Eddie had let him down and disgusted him with what he’d done to you. Not only had he cheated on you, but he had lied to him.

Both of those things were unforgivable in Wayne’s eyes. And Eddie had never seen him more disappointed in him ever.

“I raised you better than this, boy,” Wayne grumbled into Eddie’s face. “You’re no better than your daddy when you do something like this.”

That hurt more than anything else.

He knew it already, but hearing someone else say it. That was worse.

Shaking the thought from his head before it enticed the familiar sting behind his eyes, he focused on counting his steps to the music store. Back before everything, he was a regular there, frequenting the store once or twice a week for supplies for his gigs or books for his new songs.

He hadn’t been in months.

Hellfire wasn’t the only thing that Gareth, Jeff, and Angus quit. Corroded Coffin was now nothing more than him and his guitar. And because of that, he lost their Tuesday spot at The Hideout.

And his songwriting had dwindled down to nothing but him plucking the strings alone in the quiet of his room. You used to spend those hours with him, sitting on his bed as he played chord after chord, trying to work out which combination was best for the lyrics he had written.

And you had never complained. Because you enjoyed spending time with him even when you weren’t doing anything.

As he approached the store, he pushed open the door right as the door to the diner across the street opened. His throat squeezed when he saw it was you. He hurriedly stepped into the store, staring at you from behind the glass.

You were laughing.

Laughing at something Steve said to you. His hand grazed the small of your back as you both exited the diner and he guided you to his red BMW.

Eddie wasn’t sure how he missed it parked in the middle of the street.

You looked happy. Happier than you had been in the weeks leading up to the Halloween party. It hurt Eddie more than he could say that he couldn’t remember that last time he made you smile or laugh like that.

Steve opened the passenger door for you, and you rolled your eyes playfully at the smirk he was giving you.

Seeing you now, carefree and gleeful and beaming caused the loneliness to press in around him. The loneliness from you being gone. The loneliness of his friends casting him out.

He stood still, watching like a fucking creep as Steve jogged around and slid into the driver’s seat, eyes not leaving you until the car turned off the main street.

Resting his forehead on the cold glass of the door, he screwed his eyes closed.

He had no one to blame but himself. It had been all him. Only him who chose to betray you.

Now, he would watch you from a distance. While you were freer than you had ever been, his doomsday would be never ending, a constant suffering that shackled him to his agony.

And it was all his fault.

#eddie munson x reader #stranger things x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson angst #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things angst #steve harrington x reader #eddie munson series #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson imagine #stranger things one shot

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pega7sus · 1 year

Text

Jealous (Professor Longbottom x Fem!Reader)

“Sorry? I didn’t quite catch what you said, Y/N/N.”

“I was jealous, Nev.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ WHEN Y/N overhears a few seventh-year girls giggling about the oh-so handsome Professor Longbottom, she can’t help but feel jealous.

Warnings: Fem!Reader, Wife!Reader, Pureblood!Reader, mentions of blushing, fluff, jealousy, unedited writing, and that’s about it :)

I’m still kinda new to Tumblr, since I’m mostly on Wattpad (follow me on there @/sage-like-the-herb if you want to), so don’t judge this too harshly. Also, I felt bored when I wrote this, so the idea is pretty underdeveloped. Because I’m not as active here, don’t expect stuff like this too often 😂 I hope y’all like it, though!

(Edit: It’s sooo short…)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Third-person POV)

Y/N was besides herself with excitement. After months of being away from her husband, she finally got an owl with a time and date to meet up. So, that’s how she found herself waiting outside his classroom.

As the bell rang, and students came out of the room in swarms, Y/N couldn’t help but feel a bit awkward.

“Aunt Y/N?” a voice asked suddenly.

Head snapping upward, she met the familiar eyes of Albus Potter. After being introduced to her as if she was family, the whole lot of Potter children had taken to calling her their aunt.

“Albus!” she exclaimed, hugging him. She felt relieved upon realizing that she was still tall in his eyes; he was about shoulder-level to her. “Merlin, you’ve grown! I haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Lily keeps talking about you,” Albus commented, breaking out of the embrace. “She wants to know when you and Uncle Neville will come by again.”

“Hopefully soon,” Y/N promised. “Now, run along to lunch, I want to drop by Nev’s office for a bit.”

“There are students inside,” Albus informed her. “A rather annoying lot of seventh-years. They just burst in during class! I’d wait out here for a bit, if I were you.”

“Well then, I suppose I’ll do just that.”

So, she waited.

Thankfully, she didn’t stand for too long. Moments later, a trio of girls came walking out of the room, giggling away madly.

“He’s so cute!” a blonde-haired girl squealed. (Admittedly, the girl reminded Y/N of a prepubescent Hannah Abbott, who had harbored a crush on Neville for years until he rejected her in favor of Ginny Weasley as his Yule Ball date.)

Jealousy slapped a bewildered Y/N across the face.

“Yeah!” the blonde girl’s friend agreed. “I don’t care if he’s married, I’d smash him, for sure.”

Y/N felt disgusted.

“Don’t steal my man,” the third girl joked. “I did the research; our Zodiac signs are compatible. Do wizards even believe in Zodiacs?”

“Whatever,” the blonde girl rolled her eyes. “He’s still eye candy.”

“Excuse me,” Y/N said loudly, unable to take this talk of her husband any louder. “Could you young ladies move, please?” When the girls only gave confused and slightly disgusted looks, she continued. “I’d like to see my husband.”

All three girls stopped mid-conversation.

The second-girl’s face paled. “Y-you’re Professor Longbottom’s w-wife?”

“We don’t mean any harm!” the third girl squeaked, eyes widening in fear. “We were only joking! Right, Jessica?” she nudged the girl beside her.

The blonde girl, Jessica, was at a loss of words. She opened her mouth, then closed it once more. “Sorry, Mrs. Longbottom,” she apologized immediately.

“It’s Mrs. Y/L/N, actually,” Y/N scowled. “Mrs. Longbottom is my mother-in-law. Now move,” filthy mudbloods. Thankfully, she didn’t let the last two words slip out her mouth.

Merlin, marrying a Longbottom sure smacked the pureblood supremacist out of Y/N.

However, Y/N didn’t feel the slightest bit ashamed of herself as she slammed her shoulder against Jessica’s on her way into Neville’s classroom.

Y/N twisted the door handle, and rather aggressively slammed the door open. “Nev?” she called out.

“Y/N/N!” Neville exclaimed, accidentally knocking an empty flower pot off his desk in excitement. “Whoops.” He muttered a quiet Reparo and fixed it, before setting the pot back on his desk.

He was quick to wrap his arms tightly around his wife. They stayed like that for a moment, breathing in the moment, before breaking apart.

“I missed you, Nev,” Y/N sighed, looking her husband in his warm honey-like eyes. She must’ve looked the slightest bit irritated from her encounter with the seventh-years, since he gazed at her in worry.

“What’s wrong, flower?” he asked, concern written on his now angular face (all the chubbiness of his youth had abandoned his post-pubescent figure).

Y/N stayed quiet, feeling too embarrassed to admit it. She could feel a flush creeping up her face.

“Y/N/N?”

Merlin, it sure felt weird to be jealous of bloody seventh-years.

“Iwaskindajealousofthosegirlsthatwereherebefore,” Y/N blurted out, hoping that Neville would drop the subject.

However, her sweet Nev, her sweet, caring Nev, could sense the situation gnawing at her insides, so he wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulders.

“Sorry? I didn’t quite catch what you said, Y/N/N.” Noticing Y/N’s awkward expression and clearly flustered face, he added a soft, “it’s okay, flower, you can tell me. I won’t judge.”

At this point, she wanted to cry. From embarrassment of her predicament, or pure adoration toward her loving husband, Y/N didn’t have a single clue.

“I was jealous, Nev.” Her face must’ve been a tomato by that point.

At his confused look, she elaborated her statement.

“These really pretty seventh-years were leaving your classroom, while talking about how good-looking you are, and I felt jealous. It’s just that— they were gorgeous!” Y/N ranted.

Neville blinked at her. Then, he burst into a fit of laughter. Well, what she assumed was laughter. Neville must’ve been holding back the full brink of his amusement for her sake, since his chuckles sounded rather like wheezes of desperation.

“You were jealous of those girls?” he laughed. “I don’t normally want to talk bad about my students, but they’re the worst group of people I’ve ever encountered. The ironic thing is, they were visiting my room to get some herbs for a Glamour Potion.”

At Y/N’s doubtful look, he spun her around to place both his hands on her shoulders.

“Y/N/N,” he said seriously. “Flower. You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on— sorry, Gran,” he joked. Y/N cracked a smile. “I’m so lucky to be married to someone as wonderful as you. You’re kind, loving, appreciative, considerate, and just about every quality that girls like them lack.”

“I—”

“Don’t compare yourself to them,” Neville warned. “Otherwise I’ll have to muster up all my Gryffindor courage just to come up with another motivational speech.” His so-called ‘Gryffindor’ courage must’ve been given a boost by Y/N’s growing smile, since he finished with a passionate “I love you. You. Not them.”

Y/N leaned forward just a bit to press her lips against her husbands.

“I love you too, Nev,” she murmured while kissing him.

The End.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Not me ending the story in the most third grade-me way ever 💀💀 i haven’t ended a story with ‘the end,’ in a while, but I’ve never actually been motivated to finish my stories in a while, either. Anywho, thoughts on this?? The writing and plot aren’t too bad, right?

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elusivewildflower · 2 years

Text

Just Another Case | Holland March x Reader

Pairings: Holland March x F! Reader

Summary: You and Holland have been partners for the last year, solving case after ridiculous case together. Even though you’ve been mistaken as a couple countless times while working, the two of you are simply close friends. You might have feelings for him, but you’re sure he doesn’t feel the same. That is, until one particular case comes along on your laundry day, where you’re down to your last piece of clean clothing---a dress and no underwear.

Warnings: Cursing, mentions of sex, the case is about catching a husband cheating. Mostly turns out to be pretty sweet.

Word Count: 3.2k

A/N: It feels like it’s been forever since I’ve written or posted anything, but I hope I’ll be able to get back on track soon! Work and life has been pretty busy lately. I know in the movie Holland mentions that a “no-fault” law ended a lot of his cases like this, but let’s just say one pops up every now and then. (Because let’s be honest, even if I could divorce with no fault, I’d still like to have proof my spouse is cheating). Thank you to @ninjathrowingstork & another friend for beta-ing this for me! Based on the scene idea I had last week and the request I had sitting in my inbox by @wndawtch.

You press your back against the wall in your kitchen, holding the phone to your ear as your fingers twirl the cord impatiently. The line rang once, twice, and then a third time before you cursed under your breath. If he hadn’t answered by the third ring, you knew he wasn’t going to. It rang two more times before you were greeted with the familiar message of Holland’s answering machine.

“You have reached March & Co Investigations. This machine records messages. Wait for the tone and speak clearly.”

The answering machine beeps and you begin speaking.

“Holland, did you forget you’re supposed to be working today? We were scheduled to meet Mrs. Jenkins at noon and you never showed.” You paused, heaving a sigh. “I swear, if you’re fully dressed and asleep in the tub again—“

The other line picked up and Holland’s groggy voice reached your ears, cutting you off. “What’s so bad about sleeping in the tub?”

“Aside from the chance of drowning?” You asked rhetorically before continuing, “because you think that sitting in a tub full of water washes both you and what you’re wearing. Which is so not true, by the way.”

“Oh yeah, says who?” He retorted defiantly.

“I do—and probably a lot of other people if we asked.” You responded quickly, not even waiting for Holland to come up with a response before you began speaking once more. “Get yourself dried off and ready to go. I’ll pick you up in an hour so we can actually start working—I’ve got a lead.”

Holland gave a grumble of agreement and you slammed the receiver back onto the base to hang up. Sometimes you couldn’t understand why you had agreed to be Holland’s partner over a year ago. He had a serious drinking problem and always seemed to get himself into trouble. On the other hand, he was also extremely intelligent—one of the best private investigator’s you had ever seen on his good days—and he was quite attractive. Throw in his sob story about being a single father to a teenage daughter who lost his wife in a house fire and you were hooked.

Not that the two of you had ever crossed over the line of being business partners and friends aside from a few flirtatious remarks, but honestly you wouldn’t mind it. You had grown rather close to the young widower and his daughter, Holly, over the last year. Hell, when Holly started her period a few months ago, she called and told you first before mentioning it to her father. You spent more time at their rental home than at your own, and you honestly lost count of the times people had mistaken you for a couple when you were on a case.

You glanced up at the clock on the wall before heaving a sigh and pushing yourself from the wall you were leaning against to call Holland. There was enough time to start a load of laundry, but it wouldn’t finish drying before you had to leave. As you rounded up the hamper from your bedroom filled to the brim with dirty clothes, you cursed yourself for not waking up earlier in the morning—and also cursed your past self for not doing laundry sooner. You had donned your last piece of clean clothing this morning before meeting Mrs. Jenkins, which was a knee-length floral dress. Its color complimented your skin tone nicely, and the deeply cut neckline made your breasts look fantastic. It wasn't exactly what you'd wear on a normal day of work---unless the day consisted of trying to catch a man cheating on his wife. Which, technically you were, but today's lead included the address of his supposed mistress. You and Holland would simply need to do a bit of a stake out to see if you could catch Mrs. Jenkins' husband coming or going from the property, and the dress was definitely not needed.

Before you knew it, an hour had ticked by. You grabbed your purse, slid your heels back on, and locked the door behind you as you exited your house. You told Holland you’d pick him up in an hour, but you only lived a few streets away and he was never ready on time, so you didn’t care that you were late. Honestly, you weren’t the best with time management either, so you were thankful you had a partner that ran late. A few minutes later, and you were pulling into March's driveway, honking your horn to announce your arrival.

About ten minutes later, Holland finally emerges from his home, a cigarette hanging from his mouth. As he climbs into the passenger seat he glances over at you, doing a double take as he realizes what you’re wearing. “What bar or club are we going to?” He questions curiously.

You shake your head as you reverse out of his driveway. “We’re not going to a bar or club.”

Holland’s brows furrowed in confusion as he ashes his cigarette out the window. “But you’re wearing the dress.”

You should have known he’d recognize the dress. “I have the address to the alleged mistress, we don’t need to go to a bar. We’re gonna do a stake out.” You explained.

Holland still seemed confused, a frown forming on his face as he eyed you over. “What, do you have a hot date after this or something?”

He was clearly not letting this go, and did he seem a bit upset at the thought of you having a hot date? You had to be imagining that.

“No, no hot date. I just felt like wearing a dress,” You gave a shrug as you lied. After criticizing his method of laundry—the thought of sitting fully dressed in a tub still made you shudder—you didn’t feel like admitting that you didn’t have anything else clean.

Holland must’ve believed you, because he stopped badgering you with questions about it. He did, however, start asking about the case. You spent the rest of the drive filling him in on the details he missed when he overslept the meeting you had with your client.

As you pulled off to the side of the road to park, your heart dropped to your stomach. Your client neglected to mention that the mistress’s house had a seven-foot tall fence all of the way around and a gated driveway. You could feel Holland’s eyes boring into the side of your head. Ignoring him, you grabbed the binoculars from the back seats and simply exited the car. You walked up to the gate at the driveway, double checking that you had the right address. Your shoulders slumped when you realized that you were at the correct address. This was going to make capturing photos for proof of his cheating more difficult.

You heard the passenger side door slam shut as Holland joined you. “Well, this is great.” He deadpanned, placing his hands upon his hips as he surveyed the fence.

You sighed, nodding your head in agreement. “Yep.”

A moment of silence passed between you until Holland broke it with a click of his tongue. “Alright, come on. I’ve got an idea.” He ushered, moving to kneel down beside the fence.

Your brows furrowed as you watched him, unsure of what he was planning.

He noticed your look of confusion and sighed, beckoning you closer. “Come on, I’m gonna lift you up there.”

“What?” The question tumbled out of your lips before you realized it, your heart rate rising as fear coursed through you. Holland wasn’t exactly the strongest man in the world, and he tended to be clumsy. You trusted him with a lot of things, but being capable of not dropping you wasn’t one of them. Not to mention that you ran out of clean underwear this morning and were currently going commando under your dress. You swore to yourself that this was the last time you’d ever wait so long to wash clothes.

“Well, I don’t see you lifting me, and someone needs to be able to see over the fence.” He explained as if his idea made perfect sense. Which, in fairness, it did. Except for the two things you were currently worried about; Holland dropping you and seeing up your dress.

You remained still for a few more moments, your feet refusing to move from where you stood as you mulled over your options—or lack thereof.

Holland rolled his eyes at you as he grew impatient. “Oh, come on.” He beckoned you again, “before someone sees us!”

Taking a deep breath, you finally agreed. “Fine,” you began, “But do not look up my dress, Holland.” You warned him sternly, pointing a finger at him.

Holland looked insulted. “Why would I look up your dress?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, your finger now wagging at him. “Because I know you.”

Holland raised his hands in surrender, dropping his insulted act. “Alright, alright, I won’t look up your dress.”

Appeased by his answer, you close the distance between you. Holland laces his fingers together, giving you a spot to place your foot. You hold onto his shoulder as you step into his hands, and he lifts you up as he moves to stand. He lifts you a bit too high too fast and you’re suddenly scrambling to grab hold of the fence so you don’t fall.

“Jesus! Not that high!” You scold him as you struggle to find your balance.

Holland mutters out an apology and lowers you slightly.

Leaning yourself against the fence, you raise your binoculars to your eyes. You scan the windows of the house, starting with the first floor. Disappointment flooded your veins as you were coming up empty-handed, that is until you panned to the last window on the second floor. A nude woman was pressed against the window getting railed from behind. You couldn’t tell by who, but you assumed it was your client’s husband. You let out a gasp. Jesus Christ. That must be nice. Just as you opened your mouth to tell Holland what you had found, you heard his voice below you.

“Holy fuck—You’re not wearing any underwear!”

Holland’s words caused you to release your grip on the fence in a panic, snapping your attention towards him. You find him still staring up your dress in shock, his jaw dropped open. You reach out to swat at him, shouting his name in an annoyed tone. “I told you not to look!”

Your words seemed to shake Holland out of his stupor, but your swat only backfired on you. Holland tried to dodge your hand out of instinct, which only served to make him lose his balance and send the both of you toppling to the ground. It happened so quickly you don’t even remember falling, but you definitely felt the pain of the impact. Every part of your body ached, but it didn’t feel like you had broken or sprained anything, so that was good. Your head may have been pounding from smacking the ground, but it was better than your skull being cracked open by the sidewalk. You had missed that by just a few inches, you realized as you rolled onto your side. “I knew I shouldn’t have let you lift me,” you groaned out, looking over at Holland.

Clearly, you had taken the brunt of the fall, as Holland was already sitting up and staring at you. “Why aren’t you wearing any underwear?!” He asked incredulously, ignoring your previous comment.

“It’s laundry day and I didn’t have any clean!” You admitted.

Holland shook his head unbelievingly. “Jesus Christ, I need a cigarette…” He spoke as he reached into his jacket, pulling out his lighter and a cigarette just a moment later. After pulling the first drag, he regarded you once more. This time it seemed like he was checking you for any injuries, rather than staring at you like a deer in headlights. “I’m sorry for dropping you. Are you alright?” He asked sincerely, gesturing towards you with his hand.

You nodded and moved to sit up, another groan tumbled from your lips as your body ached in protest. “Yeah, I’ll be fine.” You assured him. You may wind up with several bruises and have a hard time getting out of bed tomorrow, but you’d survive.

A comfortable silence fell between you once more as Holland smoked and you let the pounding in your head subside. After a few moments, Holland snuffed out his cigarette in the grass. “That’s why you’re wearing the dress,” he announced, having put together that you lied to him earlier. “You didn’t want to wear that, you just didn’t have anything else to wear today.”

Your eyes snapped up from the grass to meet his as he broke the silence, but you didn’t bother giving him a response, your facial expression was enough. He was right and he knew it, you didn’t need to confirm it with words.

“I may bathe in my clothes, but at least I always have clean underwear.” He spoke in a chastising tone that had you rolling your eyes. “So, did you see anything?” He asked after a moment, gesturing towards the binoculars that were lying on the grass.

As you glanced at where he gestured, you remembered what you had witnessed right before Holland dropped you. “Yeah, I saw a naked woman being railed against her bedroom window.” You shrugged and continued speaking as Holland reached for the binoculars. “I couldn’t see by who, though, so we’ll just have to wait until he leaves.”

Springing up to his feet, Holland tried his best to see over the fence, hoping to catch a glimpse of the action. It was no use, though, as he wasn’t tall enough to see over it unless he backed all of the way up into the street—and then he’d likely be hit by a car. He sighed defeatedly and turned back to you. “When does Mrs. Jenkins say her husband comes home after this?”

You looked down at your watch, your eyes widening as you realized what time it was. 1:54 p.m. Mrs. Jenkins said her husband usually got home around 2:30 p.m. and you were about thirty minutes away from where she lived. As if on cue, you hear the sound of an engine starting up in the driveway. Your attention turns back to Holland, his blue eyes connecting with yours. “Right now.” You spoke hurriedly, rushing to get yourself up from the ground. Like the gentleman he is, Holland helped you to your feet and the two of you took off running towards your car.

“Why is our timing always so terrible?” Holland asked exasperatedly as you ran.

“I don’t know, but I blame you.” You replied, slamming the door shut behind you as you hopped into the car.

Holland’s door slammed shut right after yours. “You blame me? Why?”

You’re digging around in the backseat for your camera, not even looking at Holland as you respond. “Because you distract me,” you admit carelessly, not paying attention to the words that fall from your mouth until it’s too late. The car in the driveway is growing closer to the gate, and if it was your client’s husband that was leaving, you needed to capture a picture of it in order to be paid. As you return to your seat, fiddling with the camera to turn it on, you realize what you just said to Holland and your heart hammers in your chest.

Holland shakes his head in disbelief. “I distract you? No, no, it’s you who distracts me.”

Your brows furrow as you glance over at him . “How do I distract you?”

“Are you kidding me? Did you forget what happened not even fifteen minutes ago?” Holland gestures towards the spot the two of you were standing previously. “I just saw up your dress and you’re not wearing any fucking underwear! Do you know what that did to me?”

His question seemed rhetorical, or maybe you had just lost all function in your brain at the implication of his words.

“And don’t even get me started on that dress. You look so god damn sexy in that, and I hate that you only wear it to lure married men into flirting with you for a case.” Holland admitted, only pausing long enough to suck in a breath of air before he continued. “I get so fucking jealous watching those men think they have a chance with you, and you don’t even notice!” Holland stares at you as he finishes, waiting for a response as your brain tries to wrap around what he just confessed.

Your thoughts are running a mile a minute, trying to remember every time you’ve had to flirt with a married man for a case. Did you really not notice that Holland was jealous? Or did you just try to shrug it off because you didn’t believe he could ever feel that way for you? Your mouth suddenly feels dry at the realization, but eventually you speak. “I didn’t realize you felt that way about me….”

“Of course I do, how couldn’t I?” Holland spoke as if he couldn’t believe you didn’t notice sooner. “You’re gorgeous, extremely smart,” he then gestured towards himself, “you put up with my bullshit, and you’re so good to Holly.” A small smile spread across his face as he spoke of his daughter. “She loves you, you know?”

You returned his smile and nodded, leaning in closer to the center console. “Yeah, I know.”

Holland closed the short distance between you, his face mere inches from yours as he tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, hesitatingly whispering his confession. “And I love you, too.”

Gazing into his cool blue eyes, you couldn’t help the blinding smile that grew on your face. “I love you, too, Holland.” You admitted before capturing his lips. Holland’s hand rose to your neck, gripping the back of it as he locked you in a passionate kiss. His tongue prodded against your lips for entrance, but the sound of a gate opening made him pull away.

“Mrs. Jenkin’s husband, Mrs. Jenkin’s husband!” He cried out, pointing at the car that was pulling out of the driveway right in front of you.

“Oh, shit!” You exclaimed, pulling yourself away from Holland and quickly grabbing the camera from your lap. You raised it to your eye and managed to snap a few incriminating photos of the man who matched the description of your client’s husband driving away.

You placed the camera back into the floor of the back seat and turned towards Holland with a grin. “Well, let’s go get paid.”

Holland leaned over, gently grabbing your jaw and pulling your lips to meet his. “As soon as the check’s in the bank, I’m taking you on a date.” He promised, his thumb softly rubbing your cheek.

“I’m looking forward to it. I’ll even buy a new dress.” You spoke softly, nuzzling your nose against his before pressing a quick kiss to his lips.

A smirk spread across Holland’s face. “Any chance you won’t be wearing any underwear then, too?”

You scoff and swat at his chest with a laugh. “Holland!” You shout his name in a scolding tone, turning back to face the steering wheel as you turn the keys in the ignition.

“Well, that’s not a no….” He trails off as you start the drive back to your client’s home, eliciting a giggle from you.

#holland march #holland march fic #the nice guys fic #holland march x reader #the nice guys #ryan gosling fic #ryan gosling #myfics #requests #holland march fanfic

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spideytingley · 3 months

Text

twice in a lifetime

pairing: steve rogers x platonic child!oc

summary: shortly after getting out of the ice in 2011, Steve finds out that the descendants of one of his friends live on New York, and he decides to visit them, thinking that maybe he won’t have to be all alone anymore. thanks to this, he finds a family for him in this new time.

content warning: brief mentions of death.

word count: 1.6k

Doubt had started to creep in as Steve hesitated on the doorstep, staring at the wooden door in front of him. An elderly man had opened the building’s door for him, recognising him from the news, or maybe from a museum exhibit — he was supposed to be ancient history by now, but yet there he stood. The second World War had been almost seventy years ago, and while having lived it, Steve was barely thirty. And his friends were dead, as he should be.

That was why he was standing in front of the apartment, really. It turned out that according to SHIELD’s extensive database, a past teammate of his, Dum Dum Dugan, had family living in New York, close to where he lived in Brooklyn. It was a no-brainer that he had to visit, at least drop in to see what had become of something he’d known. Something that wasn’t a grave. (Or Peggy Carter, of whom he didn’t want to think about too much, for the sake of his heavy heart.)

He would be intruding in their life, he knew that. It was probable that none of them ever wanted a super soldier in their house, stirring up memories from long ago, which was why he decided that, in reality, it was a bad idea from the start. He heaved a sigh and turned around. Maybe next time he would have the courage to go in. Third time’s the charm, isn’t that how that goes?

The sound of a lock turning made him stop on his tracks. The door to apartment 9B creaked, and Steve had to look down to see a head peeking from the small opened space left by the door. It was one of the kids he’d seen on the files, barely ten years old and grinning up at him like she knew something he didn’t.

“Hi,” breathed Steve, tripping on air as he made his way back to the door.

The girl giggled, sharing a look with someone still hiding behind the door. “Hi. You’ve been standing there a whole lotta time, Mr. Steve. Are you tired?”

He blinked. Maybe she did know something he didn’t.

“You know who I am?”

“Yeah! It’s the second time you’ve been to our house, but you never go in. Daddy says to give you time, but I think you need a little push,” she said, big green eyes looking up at him. “So this is me pushing you. Come on in, Dom even had time to bake some cookies while you were there!”

She made a motion of inviting him in, but as she walked towards what he guessed must be the kitchen, he stayed on the doorway. He knew her name was Flora, she was ten and a half, and barely four feet tall, which was short for her age. She was in fifth grade in a primary school in Brooklyn, and she already knew she wanted to be a doctor. Steve knew all these things about her, and he was a stranger to her — yet she was so trusting.

She turned around to look at him, a cheeky grin on her face as she said, “We have star sprinkles for you, Mr. Steve. Dad said maybe you wouldn’t like them, but Dom and I thought it would be so funny. Do you like red, white and blue sprinkles, Mr. Steve?”

It had been a while since he’d been around children, so he was unsure if Flora was some special case, or if all kids talked that much in so little time.

He managed to smile at her, about to answer—

“Flora!” a man’s voice chided, and Steve looked the other way to see who couldn’t be other than Ronan Dugan, her father, and Dum Dum’s grandkid. Ronan’s gaze settled on him, and he could see the apology swimming in his eyes. “Mr. Rogers, I’m so sorry about my daughter’s enthusiasm. They’ve just been excited to finally meet you.”

“They have?” he asked Ronan, startled. “I don’t mind it, it’s… refreshing, actually. And call me Steve, please.”

His eyes lingered on the girl running into the other room, her giggle echoing off the walls, and he was reminded of little Rebecca Barnes, who had just turned twenty the last time he’d seen her, which had been… a long time ago. She was probably dead, too.

“Director Fury told me you’d been asking around about us,” Ronan said, “and if there’s something my kids are, is nosy, so they found out about it.”

Steve had almost forgotten that detail. Most of the family had or was currently working for SHIELD both as agents on the field or offices, ever since Dum Dum had become one of the founding members of the organization—it was their legacy, and they clearly treated it like it.

Ronan stepped closer, lowering his voice. “If you think this is too much, I totally understand. You’re not obligated to be here, Steve. I can tell the kids you were called aw–”

“Nonsense,” he rapidly said. He didn’t know if he would have the courage to try again otherwise. “I’d love to meet all of you, if it’s alright with you.”

“I’m afraid Flora and Dominic would kick me out of my house if I kicked you out,” he joked, bringing an easy smile to Steve’s face. “You can leave your jacket on that hanger, by the way. The kids are in the kitchen, when Flora sensed you coming they started baking, as I’m sure she told you.”

Steve hesitated at the strange choice of words, but thought nothing of it and closed the front door behind him, hanging his aviator jacket. Soon he was being met with the smell of freshly baked cookies coming from the kitchen, where he could see Flora and a much taller boy, Dominic—who liked to be called Dom, as his file said.

As soon as he saw him, the teenager perked up, stretching a hand toward him.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Ro– Sir… Captain America,” he rushed the words out endearingly in a nervous manner.

Steve shook his hand, briefly surprised by the strength of his grip. “Call me Steve, Dominic.”

“Then you can call me Dom,” he replied, with a grin.

He glanced at the countertop, where Flora was working very hard in concentrating on handling the sprinkles she had told him about by the door. In the time he’d been deciding on whether he would enter or not, they had baked cookies that looked very appetizing—all with the color of his uniform, the flag of the United States.

The kitchen was bigger that the one he had at his apartment, which made sense given that it was for a family of three. It was cozy, and lived in, noticeable on the way the fridge was filled with stickers and photos stuck to it with magnets of places they’d visited—he felt a sudden sensation of longing in the way this house screamed home, a stark contrast to the cold place that awaited him just two blocks away.

“Can you eat cookies?” asked Flora, bringing him out of his evaluation of their home. “Dad isn’t really allowed to, he’s supposed to be on a diet.”

“I can eat pretty much anything,” he confessed, with a smile. “And however much I want, thanks to being a supersoldier.”

“Great, because we made too many cookies!”

“Come on, Flora, there’s no such thing as too many cookies,” said Ronan, bringing one to his mouth. “Especially when they taste this good. I might have to ban you two from the kitchen, eh? Not all of us can eat without getting fat.”

Steve laughed at the dig, and took the cookie that Dom was offering. His eyes widened. “This is really good.”

The kids high-fived each other, bright smiles on their faces for a job well-done.

“What’s that?” asked Dominic, lazily pointing with his index finger to the leather notebook in Steve’s hands.

They had brought the trays to the living room and had turned on the television, and Steve had gotten it out of his pocket when something interesting had shown up on the News, ready to write it down for later.

“It’s where I write general knowledge events that I missed, so I can learn about them,” he said, handing it to him. “Director Fury gave me some of those, but I’ve been collecting them ever since I woke up.”

Flora stood behind the couch, reading the notebook from over her brother’s shoulder. “Steve, you’re missing a lot of stuff! I can’t believe Mamma Mia isn’t there,” she whispered in shock.

He hummed, recognizing the name. “That’s a song from ABBA, right?”

“And only the best musical of all time!”

“Says a ten-year-old,” laughed Ronan, sharing an amused look with Steve.

“Whoever recommended just Star Wars has clearly never watched Star Trek,” said Dom, a frown on his face as he read.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” breathed Steve, brows knitted together. “I tell you what, you both can write whatever you think I’m missing from this century—“

“—and the previous one,” piped in Ronan.

“And the previous one,” he agreed, and hesitantly looked at the kids. “And maybe you could show me some of it?”

Their eyes lit up, excitement shining in them.

“You are so watching Mamma Mia!” squealed Flora, running out of the living room.

Steve’s eyes followed her as she left, Ronan’s laugh filling the room. “You have a problem in your hands, she’s getting her CDs from her room.”

A beat passed.

“What’s a CD?”

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #steve rogers x oc #steve rogers x original female character #original character #original female character #captain america #marvel fanfiction #captain america fanfiction #steve rogers fanfiction #dum dum dugan #found family #leah writes #i love seeing him happy #steve rogers deserved better in the 21st century #how did you let this man be alone for so long marvel #children #steve rogers’ notebook #original child character

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narrators-journal · 20 days

Text

20$ make a fella holla

I don’t know if it’s obvious, but I can never describe Senku’s fucking hair. It’s just...how do you describe that shit??

Regardless, I hope this is a fun read, I just kinda had fun with it, tried to make it amusing to read, just a lil fake dating romp <3 Hope the romantic tone is there though at the end! I thought it was a pretty cute lil moment, at least.

Some people loved weddings, with the belief that they were the perfect time to bask in the love of your partner and joy of your family. Some, believed the events to be garish, stressful, exhausting nightmares for everyone involved. Which, was more or less the group you fell into.

Though, of course, you had no real issue with weddings, and someday may also wish to be married to your own future partner. But, that didn’t keep the sudden invitation to a family friend’s surprise nuptuals from coming out of left field.

So, befitting someone in your panicked position, you scrambled to find a date to accompany you to the event. Someone, anyone who could make sure you couldn’t be paired off with a complete and total stranger for pictures, and that no well-intentioned aunties, or eager, nosey grannies could offer potential dates and suitors.

Alas, your boyfriend had dumped you a month before, and none of your friends were free to attend with you. “When does this crap end? I’ve got a project to get to.”

Desperate times called for desperate measures.

“Senku, will you please quit complaining already? Do you have zerofucking social skills?” You hissed back in a similarly quiet tone your date at the reception table. Aka your roommate, Senku Ishigami. A slightly eccentric, odd-haired 19 year old science prodigy on his third year of college, and your last fucking nerve at the moment.

But, your annoyance seemed to simply bounce off of your ‘boyfriend’ as his crimson eyes glared back at you as he muttered quietly, “I do, but this is damned boring. Plus, this tuxedo is itchy as hell. I did my bit, why don’t we just leave already? The ceremony’s over.” “Because that’s passive aggressive and rude, Senku. Have you never been to a wedding?” You asked back, but before your ‘boyfriend’ could shoot back with some explanation about the useless nature of such events, one of your tablemates asked, “So, how long have you two been together?” in an attempt to start some less hissed and angry conversation. “Oh! Uh, about…” While you scrambled for a good answer, Senku jumped in to save you, “Going on two years soon. A little under a month before that marker, actually.” He answered, his boredom well hidden under his usual cool, unbothered demeanor as he spoke, but it still irked you.

Almost as much as his claim did, honestly. God, why am I not surprised that he doesn’t give a singular fuck about the plot holes I’ve gotta patch up if someone asks for details?You mentally fumed as your expression remained politely chipper and joyful as the woman across from you continued to ask questions. “How ever did you two meet then? I hope I’m not rude, but you two don’t seem like eachothers ‘types’.” She hummed, but before you could toss out some bland, cutesy meet-cute plot, Senku spoke once again, “Oh, kinda creepily, actually. She needed a room mate, I was just the person to take her offer.” Why not just admit I’m paying you to be here too?!“We didn’t like eachother at first, I usually don’t like super extroverted girls surrounded by dramatic friends and shit. Which, at first, that’s what she seemed like. I mean, jeez, let loose a machete-wielding maniac on campus and she’d have been prime ‘hot bimbo victim’ material.” Oh my fucking god, Ishigami, what next? Calling me ‘the old ball and chain’? How is this supposed to be believably romantic?!But, of course, the man continued regardless of your attempts to psychicly blow him up. “But, a month or so in, I realized my assumptions were wrong. She’s actually quite a funny, charming girl, with a good head on her shoulders, and some intellegence to her. And...well, y’know, I asked her out from there. Though, I have no clue why she agreed to date my ass, but she did! And I’ve held onto my title since then.”

As he spoke so easily, you were stuck with a nerves-laced smile the entire time. Only able to muster the occassional giggle to try and sell the romance in his take on your actual situation. Because, what else were you to do? Correct your boyfriend on your meeting story? That’d just out how fake the two of you were in an instant, so you mostly focused on your bland wedding reception food and tried not to give your room mate dirty looks as he spoke.

Thankfully, though, the woman across from you two seemed at least a bit charmed, or at least amused by the romantic twist on how your initial meeting with the odd-haired scientist. So, you could let out an internal sigh and redirect the conversation away from your ‘love story’ before Senku could cook up any other questionable tales. But, as you sat there in polite conversation as you ate your fillet mignon and mashed potatoes, Senku’s story was able to settle into your mind. Allowed to stew and marinate as the reception continued.

Why the hell would he got down such a weirdly honest route? He seems more the type to claim we met on tinder, not that weirdly sweet tale of growing to like me from an awkward set up. You asked yourself. Because, in the two years you’d had the man as a room mate, he had always favored blunt honesty over sugar-coating anything, so, it was odd that he had such a long-winded lie at the ready. And it you couldn’t explain it away as him having ‘prepped for the role’, you had to fight him just to put on a tux and pull his gravity-defying hair into a ponytail so he didn’t look weird in any wedding photos. He wouldn’t bother with that type of preparation. So...what? Was he being...honest?

It wasn’t an entirely comfortable realization to come across. Even if Senku had his moments of being attractive, and he was a pretty good room mate, he had the tact of a brick, and a blatant love for science over any living person, least of all you, right?

God, get a hold of yourself, girl.You chided yourself with a small sigh, only a glance thrown to your date to briefly study how he sat and ate his food, that glint of boredom back in his cherry-colored eyes. This isn’t some rom-com fanfiction. Your roomie hasn’t been harboring some deep love for you for two years unless your a beaker of nitroglycerin. You reminded yourself firmly, the flustered butterflies in your belly squashed coldly as you returned to the food in front of you.

Though, after a moment, you did dare another glance to your pretend boyfriend beside you, and this time, those crimson orbs looked back at you. And, as if the scientist had suddenly learned to read your mind, he leaned over until you could feel his warm breath tickle your ear when he whispered, “What’s with the weird looks? Surprised the unfeeling scientist has a heart?” in a playful,flirtatioustone that was almost alien to hear mixed into his voice. A tone you had heard plenty of time in your life, but still managed to cause you to gasp, and choke on your own spit. Like a true charmer.

“Oh! Oh shit, are you choking on something, hon?” Senku asked, instantly on his feet as you coughed on your surprise, “Jesus, maybe this is a good time to go. With your luck, dear, you’ve got a cold brewing.” He said, at least decent enough to fabricate some form of a lie before he took his opportunity and almost drug you from the reception hall just as you got your breath back. I’m going to kill this bastard.

#Senku x fem!reader #Senku Ishigami #x reader #Dcst #dr stone #Senku x reader #scenario #Ao3 ask

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thewritingisconsumingme · 2 months

Text

hugs

summary: raiden surprise visits johnny

warnings: none :)

Johnny was tired. The movies had been doing well. Critics were raving about the film, and his agent was blowing his phone up everyday with constant interviews and cameos and everything under the sun. His Mortal Kombat franchise was doing great! But he was working himself to the bone. It seemed like he could never catch a break, and he hadn’t seen any of his friends in months. He was almost never at home, usually at his office working on the script and possible future films and video games, at different interviews and TV shows, or at various meeting rooms discussing investments in the future of his franchise. He was losing sleep, only ever getting four hours at a time, six on one occasion when he accidentally slept through a meeting.

Johny rubbed at his eyelids as the words on the paper swam in front of him. He was on his third, maybe fourth, energy drink of the day, and he was running on three hours of sleep from two nights before. Something had gone wrong with filming one of the scenes of the sequel to the first Mortal Kombat film, and now he was deliberating over his options on how to move forward with the movie. He was so absorbed in trying to read the swaying words that he almost didn’t feel the rough tapping on his shoulder.

“Mr. Cage, there’s someone waiting for you in your trailer.”

That was strange. Johnny wasn’t supposed to be expecting someone, right? He checked the watch on his wrist and then his phone calendar to see if someone was scheduled to meet him right now. He couldn’t find anything about someone needing to meet him but dropped the script onto his office table figuring some time away from the movie might give him a second wind of ideas.

He trudged toward his trailer, fixing his hair and adjusting his sunglasses to hide his eyebags, and opened the door to the cluttered living space.

“Johnny!”

The director nearly cried when he saw it was Raiden inside, sitting on his unmade bed and looking delighted to see the exhausted director. The champion had his hair up in its signature bun, but Raiden was missing the familiar hat that usually sat on his head.

“Raiden! I wasn’t expecting you!” Johnny brought Raiden into a hug, and Raiden squeezed him back, Johnny’s heart racing at the contact. Johnny really liked Raiden, something about his humbleness and dignity made something itch inside of the director to try and bring something more primal to Raiden’s surface. Thankfully, Raiden liked him back, and they had started dating when the whole battle had happened. But, it didn’t really feel like they were together: Johnny had spent so much time working that he hadn’t seen or talked to Raiden in weeks. Johnny tried to let go of the champion, but Raiden simply pulled the director further in his embrace.

They both fell into the bed, but Johnny couldn’t really complain. Raiden was warm and familiar. Much softer than the cold cutthroat world of Hollywood and its investors and industries.

“I’ve missed you Johnny. We all have.” Raiden said. Johnny closed his eyes and nuzzled his nose into the champion’s neck.

“I’ve missed all of you too. I’ve just been so busy.” Johnny’s voice trailed off as his body relaxed on top of Raiden’s. It had been too long since he had slept, and he felt so comfortable. Maybe he could just keep his eyes closed for a little longer.

Raiden hummed, smiling as the director quickly fell asleep on top of him. Slowly, the champion moved the both of them to cuddle on the bed in the trailer. It was a tight squeeze, but with the way Johnny clung onto Raiden, it wasn’t too much trouble to try and fit on the bed. The champion let the director sleep and ran his fingers through Johnny’s soft hair, admiring how the stress lines appearing on Johnny’s face started to disappear as he slept.

When someone came by the trailer a few minutes later to come and get Johnny, they were mysteriously shocked by the doorknob every time they tried to open it.

#noodle's writings #fluffuary 2024 #fluff #mortal kombat #mk #mortal kombat 1 #mk1 #mk1 2023 #johnny cage #johnny cage mk1 #raiden #raiden mk1 #johnny cage x raiden

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samanthaa-leanne · 3 months

Text

“Hinata you idiot! You're not supposed to receive the ball with your face!” Kageyama yelled from inside the gym.

You looked up from your spot on the bench to see Hinata on the floor and Kageyama standing over him with his hands in the air. A bright red spot forming on his face from the impact.

“Yeah I know that Kageyama!”

You were a first year at Karasuno and had gotten talked into joining the volleyball club from your friend Yachi. The last few months had been interesting to say the least. You had some knowledge about volleyball, but after watching the Karasuno boys in action it was like you knew nothing at all about the sport.

Everyone was extremely talented and the team had the potential to go all the way to nationals this year. There were still some minor improvements that needed to be made. One of which was receives, which just so happened to be what the team was currently practicing on.

“You’ll get the next one!” Yachi encouraged from beside you.

Both boys looked over to where you guys were sitting, your eyes instantly meeting Kageyama’s, a small blush adorning your cheeks. Anytime you looked at Kageyama your heart raced. He was so handsome you couldn’t take it. You usually didn’t get flustered when it came to boys, but there was just something about him that made your brain turn to mush. You were better at talking to him then when you first joined. You used to always stumble over your words when you guys had a conversation, but now that you formed a friendship you found it was a lot easier to talk to him. You no longer stumbled over your words when you talked, but your heart beat like crazy anytime you were near him. The crush you had on him growing more and more everyday.

The boys give you both a nod and a smile before returning to practice, training even harder than before.

“Valentine’s Day is coming up. Maybe you should get him something.” Kiyoko said softly enough for only you to hear.

The third years were the only ones who knew about your little crush. Kiyoko was the first to figure it out, then Suga, Daichi, and finally Asahi. They didn’t get it at first, but that didn’t stop them from encouraging you any chance they got.

“Yeah maybe.” You said with a shrug, breaking your gaze from the two boys to look up at her.

Kiyoko was stunning. You could see why Nishinoya and Tanaka were obsessed with her. Not only was she beautiful, but she was incredibly smart. She could do anything she wanted after she graduated, and you couldn’t wait to see what the future held for her.

“Alright bring it in.” Coach Ukai said as the team sat in front of him. “We have a practice game tomorrow against Nekoma, so I want you guys to start cleaning up and head straight home.”

“You heard him, let's get this place cleaned up.” Daichi said standing up. Everyone followed the captain's orders with no push back. The team cleaned quickly and changed in the club room before heading home for the night.

“Hey YN can you uhm stay back for a second.” Kageyama asked nervously once everyone was out of earshot.

“Yeah of course.” You couldn’t help the flutter in your chest at the thought of some alone time with Kageyama.

You both stood there awkwardly for a few seconds before he cleared his throat, his hand reaching into his bag.

“Uhh I know Valentine’s Day is still a few days away, and I know it’s not much, but I got you this.” He pulled out a small teddy bear and a heart shaped box of chocolates with a small note attached to the lid. “They're homemade.” He said softly as you opened the lid, popping a piece in your mouth.

“These are amazing Kageyama!” You exclaimed watchigun his face turn bright red. You threw your arms around him and gave him a big hug. “Thank you so much. I love them.” He slowly wrapped his arms around you, returning your hug.

“It was nothing.” He said shyly, pulling back a little from your embrace. “I, uhm, was wondering if you maybe wanted to go out with me sometime? I really like you YN.” His face getting impossibly more red with his confession.

Your heart did somersaults in your chest. You didn’t think your feelings were reciprocated. “Of course, I would love to.” You answer, smiling up at him.

He pulled you back in for another hug before letting out a breath you didn’t know he was holding. You couldn’t help but let out a small laugh at how nervous he was. You thought it was adorable. He ended up walking you home that night, hand in hand, and you had never been happier.

Once you got home you read his note and snuggled with the teddy bear he got you, eating another piece of the delicious chocolates.

“Best Valentine’s Day ever.”

#kageyama x reader #kageyama tobio #haikyuu kageyama #hq kageyama #haikyuu x reader #Valentine’s Day event #samanthaa-leanne #Haikyuu #hq x reader #kageyama tobio x reader

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speechlessxx · 2 years

Text

you can call me babe for the weekend. [andy barber x reader]

PART ONE OF CLANDESTINE.

summary ⇒ the start of the best kept secret Newton, Massachusetts’ has ever seen.

warnings ⇒ heavy makeout but nothing too nsfw, an affair (bc who am i if i don’t write something like this), age gap (reader is referenced to be 19 but this is technically a flashback), DBF!Andy

MINORS DNI

word count ⇒ 2.2k

this could be a series if i find the motivation to write it tbh but idk

The affair – if it could even be considered that – was harmless.

It dated back to the first winter break from university.

The winter hadn’t been too cruel. However, New England winter was still New England winter and as the sun set on your hometown of Newton, Massachusetts, you couldn’t help but feel that cold. Clad in a pastel pink North Face with white earmuffs, you looked out of place at the dive bar in Boston.

Young. Naïve, even.

You were freshly nineteen with a tiny, vintage Coach shoulder bag tucked into your arm with a slightly expensive – but arguably worth the investment, or at least that’s what your friends said – fake ID clutched in your hand. You flashed the bartender a smile as she glanced at your card before taking it. She quizzed you, asking obscure questions.

“You went to high school ‘round here?” Nope, New York City.

A lie.

“Nice. Nice. You in college?” Yup, with a pop of the ‘p’. Third year up in UMass.

Another lie.

“Cool. What’s your zodiac sign?” You sighed to feign annoyance at the questions but didn’t give her grief about the interrogation. It was her job after all. Gemini.

Another lie, but she bought it all the same as she shrugged and nodded. She handed the ID back to you and asked for your order. You weren’t much of a drinker, four months of college hadn’t changed that, so you ordered a simple vodka cranberry sour – your roommate’s favorite. The bartender nodded and backed off with a simple, “coming right up, pumpkin.”

Absentmindedly, you placed your fake ID on the table in front of you as you pulled out your phone to scroll through the countless messages of your high school friends, all of whom promised to be here, have flaked on the get together.

They dropped like flies with feigned excuses of staying with their folks, or not wanting to be in the cold, and even whining about the dangers of underage drinking. You groaned and typed, frustratedly, trying to convince someone – anyone – to come and join you.

“Fuck me,” you muttered. The bartender chortled as she placed a bright red drink in front of you.

“Date bailed?” She inquired.

“Friends are suckers,” you explained. “We were all supposed to meet, but now they’re all backing out.”

“Aw, sorry to hear that, pumpkin.” For a moment, you expected her to continue the conversation, but she only stared at you, expectantly, before she glanced down at the drink.

You suddenly felt heat rise to your face as the realization washed over you. You flung your purse from your shoulder, unzipping it, hurriedly, to find your credit card – which your father had adamantly told you was for emergencies only. A plan that, of course, failed. (What did he expect when he gave a, then, eighteen-year-old a credit card?!)

But of course, just your rotten luck, the card in question was gone.

You groaned and shook your head. You looked up at the bartender with a nervous smile, hers had long since faded after watching you dig through your bag. “You don’t happen to take Apple Pay, do you?”

“No, pumpkin.”

This is what you get for lying, you thought to yourself as you frantically combed through your thoughts to formulate a plan of some kind. But to your surprise – and stupid luck, thank god it was still there somehow – a kind bystander spoke up.

“Put hers on my tab, Kristy.”

“Gotcha,” she nodded before stalking off, pleased that a payment was indeed promised.

You let out a sigh of relief and swiveled in your chair to thank your hero when a gasp escaped you instead.

Because, just like that, your luck dissipated as behind you, with two stormy blue eyes that held hints of disappointment and … amusement (?) was Andy fucking Barber, your best friend’s father.

Before a word could even escape your lips, Andy reached around you, swiping your fake ID. You stared at him wide eyed, expecting him to rat you out – hell, maybe even arrest you. Could he even do that? He was only the First Assistant to the DA in Newton. He certainly didn’t have that kind of power – or maybe he did. How would you know?

“A New York baby, huh?” He asked you, lowly, glancing up at you with a knowing smirk.

“Uh, yeah,” you nodded, playing along to whatever this was.

“Andy,” he introduced, offering a hand.

You offered him your ID’s identity before shaking it. “Thanks,” for saving my ass, “for the drink.”

“Of course.” Andy smiled. “What brings you to Boston?”

“College.” You said. “Third year at UMass.”

“Is that so?” You hummed a confirmation. “You should transfer to NYU. My son’s there. He loves it. Goes there with his best friend.”

“Wow.” You were slightly convinced you could be an actress with the pure tone of interest. “Must be a party every day.”

“Yeah, yeah. Wicked partier his best friend. You won’t expect it from her, but she’s at bars and drinks now, apparently.”

“Sounds grown up.”

“She tries to be.” He leaned closer and you froze as you smelled the whiskey on his breath. “Sometimes, she can be a real stubborn little girl though. Doesn’t know what’s good for her.” God, why did the husk in his voice and his breath against your skin awake goosebumps and butterflies? You should not like this, but something about the condescending tone and the mere aura that radiated off him. Absolutely addicting.

He leaned away as he watched you cross your legs and shift in the barstool. “What about you, baby?” You could melt. Honestly. “You know what’s good for you?” You nodded, but he tsked. A hand gripped your chair and in the chatter-filled bar, you could hear the legs scrape against the floors as he pulled you closer. “Now, you gotta use your words, baby.”

“Will you teach me?” You asked him, doe-eyes staring up at him.

Now, you weren’t sure what happened next – it was a blur, honestly. You drank and laughed. It was a whirlwind. Everything passed by you so quickly. One second Andy’s closing out his tab the next two hands are at the backs of your thighs, hoisting you up onto the bathroom countertop. Back against the mirror and Andy fucking Barber standing between your legs. Your hair was lost behind the back of his head, fisting at his hair to pull him closer to your lips.

The kiss was heated, and you weren’t even sure if you started making out at the bar, on the way to the restroom, at the doors, or on the sink itself. All you knew was that Andy Barber was a great – nay the best – kisser you have ever met.

All the college boys could never compare to the years of experience this man had. Hell, they didn’t even know where to put their hands.

Andy’s had cupped your cheeks, holding and keeping you in this moment, but one particular gasp that left your lips but was muffled by his had his hands wandering to the back of your head. He pulled away – or rather, pulled you away – with a fistful of your hair in a large hand. A moan escaped you and he scattered love bites down the column of your neck.

“You’re so hot,” he muttered into your skin. “So beautiful. So, so beautiful, baby.”

He finally reclaimed your lips, but shortly after a ringing rang out through the echoey room. With a groan, Andy stared at you, expectantly, as you pulled out your phone.

“Fuck,” you muttered, “fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Upon the screen was a very familiar face – one that belonged to his son. Andy’s eyes widened as he tried to convince you not to answer.

“But – but I have to!” You argued. “What if something happened?”

“Then I doubt he would’ve called you.”

“You don’t know that! Somethings he can’t tell you!”

“Like what.”

“Like when I had to buy him condoms during prom because he and Sarah were gonna do it in his car,” you said over the ringer that continued to blare out.

Andy’s mouth gaped at your confession. “He drove my car to prom.”

“Oh. Er… sorry?”

He let out an exasperated sigh until finally the ringer stopped, effectively sending Jacob to voicemail. Among the silence, you two stared at each other for a beat before bursting out into laughter.

“My car?” He chuckled, hands on your knees, drawing small circles with his right thumb. “Now, he’s surely never getting it.”

“But he’s been eyeing it for so long though,” you argued for your best friend, smacking his bicep.

For a moment, this felt right. Gossiping about Jacob with you standing up for him, sort of. It felt like what a family does.

And for a moment, you allowed that fantasy in – you couldn’t help it you’re a hopeless romantic. In a perfect world, maybe this, whatever it is, would work and Jacob would be accepting of it, too. Happy that his father, divorced for too long now, and his best friend have finally found love.

God, you’re stupid. You shook that fantastical dream away. This, whatever it is, was a spur of the moment. It wasn’t real and certainly wasn’t going to happen again.

Andy whispered your name and you looked up at him as he stared at you with furrowed brows. “What’s on your mind?”

“Nothing,” you lied, but he scoffed.

“Bullshit. What’s on your mind?”

“Noth-“he tilted his head at you, eyes staring straight into your soul. How he was able to see through your lies was a mystery to you. “Fine… I just,” you sighed, “I just let my imagination get the best of me sometimes, you know?”

“I know all about that.” Andy nodded. “But sometimes, you gotta turn dreams into reality.”

“Such a dad pep talk, really.”

“What’d you just daydream about?”

“What?”

“You think I don’t recognize that dreamy look you do when you escape into your head?” Andy tapped on your temple.

“I don’t do it often.”

“Yeah,” he agreed with a shrug, “but I still notice.”

“My future, I guess?” You groaned with your hands flying to your face. “It’s embarrassing, really. Let’s just drop it.”

“Nah,” Andy laughed as he gently pulled your hands from your face and held them in his. They felt as if they belonged there, they truly did. “I wanna know. What about your future is so embarrassing,” he mocked you.

“Just thinking about,” he smiled at you, and you groaned. “God, do I have to?”

“Yes,” he brought your knuckles to his lips, peppering them with kisses. “Now, tell me.”

“I just thought like – itwouldbenicetoendupwithyou. IthinkIwouldlikeit.”

He said your name with feigned authority in his voice and he tilted his head in the way he does, which had you groaning before repeating yourself.

A soft smile formed on his devilish handsome features as he leaned in to kiss you again. He pulled away and brought another kiss to your knuckle. “I would –“

Your phone rang again and, surprise, surprise. It was Jacob.

“Okay, he wouldn’t call twice. It must be important.” You muttered. Before Andy could convince you to ignore his son (father of the year, really), you had already answered. “Jake? Hey, what’s up?”

“Where the hell are you!” Jacob demanded. “I showed up to this little get together, and suddenly, you’re not here? Don’t tell me you bailed.”

“Didn’t you read the messages? Everyone bailed.”

“Yeah, but I know you’re the real show-up-early-in-case-there’s-traffic type,” he said. “Are you here yet?”

You cringed as you and Andy stared at each other. Well, you were definitely here.

“I – I’m on my way!” You lied. “Just go sit down somewhere, and I’ll find you.”

“Alright.” He said.

You hung up. “Well, he’s here. Rotten luck, huh?”

Andy laughed as he tucked a loose hair behind your ear. “I’d hardly call it that.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, really,” Andy nodded. “Well, I better get outta here before he sees me… Or rather, should I bust him?”

“Go easy on him,” you punched his shoulder gently.

“Alright, alright.” Andy laughed.

He helped you off the counter and you both discreetly leave the bathroom. You scanned the bar to find that Jacob had already situated himself near the back, lost on his phone – surely on Tinder or TikTok. You and Andy exchange a quick look.

Was it a goodbye forever? A let’s-pretend-this-never-happened look?

Before you could turn on your heel with no answers, Andy grabbed your arm. Your eyes were wide as you glanced back at Jacob, who was still, thankfully, preoccupied. He handed you his credit card, but you shook your head.

“Oh, Andy, I can’t.”

“Let’s call it an excuse to see each other again.” He said before he pulled you in for one more stolen kiss. Blue eyes stared deep into yours, savoring the heat of your body for a few moments more. “Because I do want to see you again.”

Your breath was shaky as he gave your hand a squeeze before walking off into the night. Your eyes followed him through the darkness, a frenzy heated upon your skin that left you absolutely buzzing.

“Oh, fuck me.” You whispered.

#andy barber x reader #andy barber x younger!reader #andy barber imagine #andy barber #chris evans x reader #chris evans imagine #you can call me babe for the weekend #clandestine.

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