#yeah TWO days in one day !!! (I drew these over a number of days also we are on day 10) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

vacayisland · 5 months

Note

Could you do a John Dory x Retired Singer/Musician Reader? Pls and thank you

(I loved meet the wifie I fucking cackled at "imma beat his ass!")

@!; Oldies are always better. John Dory / Retired! Reader

"Tag List"! @writergal02 @chamille-trash @valvalentine69 @starzwithapen @ykvlanq @apieceofcathair3 @kitthefanfickat

ꨄ︎. You were a big alt-indie musician, making music that tended to have a little bit of everything; the funk and beat of the funk tribe and the techno tribe, the guitar riffs and drum solos from the rock tribe, some classical instruments as undertones, and pop-like lyrics and beats. All the while you also put your own spin on it. Music had always been an outlet for you, always allowed you to take what was in your head and thread it into sound for everyone to hear. Sometimes it was chaotic, sometimes it was mellow, and it always depended on your mood when writing, composing, and singing. It's usually was drew people to your music. It was down to Earth, yet also complex and simple at the same time. Those who wanted to dive into the meaning of your music and dissect it would find multiple layers, many undertones that all harmonized. Those who just wanted to vibe out to your music could do that as well.

ꨄ︎. When you had left your career behind, it wasn't because of anything bad. You left with one final song in which explained that you were stepping down to let the new generation to find their own flow, to let other people take the stage, to be able to sit back and enjoy everything that will come in the future. You were only around 24 when you put down your guitar for the final time for the public; But you never gave up music for good on your own. While you never published anything anymore, you kept writing and composing for yourself as it was truly your passion.

ꨄ︎. This is when JD found you, playing in a friend's cafe. You had caught his attention right away, so much so he didn't hear the waiter when he had asked for JD's order. He was honestly so captivated by you for a moment he wondered if you were some sort of siren. He soon realized, yeah no you weren't, you just were really, really good. And he needed your number, badly. And that sounded a little creepy, but when you see someone who's not only good looking but knows how to sing and play an instrument all in one? You don't miss that chance to talk them up, and JD was defiantly not missing his chance!

ꨄ︎. JD didn't see a ring on your finger, it was fair game for him. Luckily you hadn't been seeing anyone at the time, but you still gave him a reality check after he approached you as though he was the coolest guy on the planet; Introducing himself before using some sort of cheesy pick up line to get your number. "Hey, babe, my name is John Dory and you seem rather lonely. You know, I can fill that 'me' shaped hole in your heart if you give me your number!" And then he winked!? Your friend was flabbergasted. You thought he was really brave.

ꨄ︎. And you hate to admit that his stupid pick-up line (which didn't even seem like a pick-up line!) actually worked and he got your number. (And he would be so smug and proud about this fact for the rest of his life.)

ꨄ︎. You two talked for a few months before making anything official, and then you waited about a year or two before you two even thought about moving in together. Even so, by 6 months of dating you basically lived in Rhonda; Your stuff littered his home, you had your own set of clothes there, your own toothbrush, and even your own house slippers. Then when you moved in, it felt natural. It felt like this was where you were always meant to end up and somehow the planets aligned. And for some reason JD never noticed the fact you brought in an electric guitar, which also sat in your shared closet. Sometimes you wonder if he's just stupid or a little blind, because he's also seen your play.

ꨄ︎. Either way, one day when he was hoisting his brothers over (after the whole Floyd situation got resolved, and god you were kind of glad you were staying with friends during all of that; not because you didn't like his brothers but because you didn't think you could handle meeting his family during that whole situation.) when they heard you playing your guitar in the bedroom. You weren't doing anything fancy, mostly tuning the guitar and making sure the strings didn't need to be replaced. But, of course, that always had to include one of your most iconic guitar riffs from a song about fighting your crushing mentality during the lowest part of your career. "Holy shit dude, I didn't know your lover listened to (Y/N)!" Branch would be the first to comment, being the most diverse music listener in the family. Floyd, who had been distracted by the riff, perked up at the conversation and nodded in agreement. JD only gave them a confused look, leaning against his kitchen counter, "Dude, my lover is (Y/N)?" And JD wasn't sure what to expect, but it wasn't all four of his brothers stopping and staring at him completely baffled. Mostly Floyd and Branch, who soon yelled a rather loud, "WHAT?!" "What?!" Which only confused JD more.

ꨄ︎. You hadn't met JD's family before this point, but you've heard all about them; Not only from JD, when he told you about his band days, and when you heard them around the trailer when they would come over. Usually you stayed in the bedroom, not to be rude yet to just let JD have his time with his brothers. Yet, you couldn't understand what all the yelling was about, "Yo, Que te pasa? Why the hell are you guys yelling?" You would ask, poking your head out of the door to the bedroom. Your expression tired, your hair messier, yet you could care less at this moment; You were sure JD's brothers wouldn't mind, they would see you worse later on since you were planning to stay with that big doofus. "Oh my god-" You flinched when Floyd dropped the cup he was holding, his jaw dropping upon seeing you; And honestly, for a second, you forgot you used to be a big artist. "John Dory," You started, startled by the reactions his brothers were giving, "Vas a decirme lo que esta pasando ahora mismo."

ꨄ︎. JD is always a little intimidated when you speak Spanish, mostly because his Grandma used to scold him and his brothers in Spanish. So he only explained (rather quickly) how his brothers had heard you tuning your guitar in the bedroom and how they just got weird. And that's when Branch defended himself, along with Floyd, how JD never told them that you were his lover! "And what's it to you that I love your brother?" You shot back quick and snappy, crossing your arms as you shot a glare their way. You weren't above throwing hands with JD's brothers. Floyd noticed the way JD glanced away, sipping his coffee. He was quick to stand up, placing a hand on Branch's shoulder to calm him, before explaining the whole situation to you better; Saying how Branch and Floyd were just big fans of your music and they didn't realize that you were with JD, because no matter how much JD spoke about you he never told them that you were his lover.

ꨄ︎. "Oh, Mierda lo siento." God, this made things a little awkward, "I thought you were about to be one of those horrible step-siblings that didn't like his brother's lover for some dumb reason like my hair." "What? No!-" "No, yeah, I see that now. My bad, really sorry." You mumbled, rubbing the back of your neck, "JD can be really, really dense sometimes, shut it John Dory!," You pointed a finger at JD before he could make a peep in protest about your slight insult, but it was made out of full love. "Let's start over, hi I'm (Y/n) and it's really nice to meet you."

ꨄ︎. Safe to say, JD forgot to tell his brothers that he was dating an old sensational artist...and kind of forgot you were one and was very shocked to realize this! Furthermore, you were a little flabbergasted when he revealed that some of BroZone's songs were influenced by your music. You would stare at JD after he confessed such a large secret, "Wow... that's a big insult." You mumbled sarcastically under your breath. "EXCUSE ME?!" But you guessed JD missed the sarcasm. "I'm being sarcastic, love. That's kind of sweet." Playfully rolling your eyes, you pressed a kiss into JD's cheek before turning back to his brothers. You crossed your legs, rested your elbow against your knee, and held your face in your hands. "Now about you four, how about we get to actually know each other. I'm planning to remain in this family after all..."

ꨄ︎. Safe to say that JD is wifing/husbanding/etc. you up really quick.

ꨄ︎. He still brags about how he first got your number and how he managed to 'snatch you up' before anyone else could. You told him he's too old to use new lingo and to stop, lovingly of course as you didn't want your 'husband' to embarrass himself. He melted hearing you call him husband before getting a bigger ego boost; And you had fun watching him terrorize his siblings while his ego was so inflated. You even jokingly did the whole 'I'm watching you' eyes to one of his brothers (Clay) as a silent threat that this is how you were always going to hand JD off to them like. He gave you the biggest (playful) stink eye ever. Yeah, you're going to fit right into this family.

.ᐟ this work is published and owned by @vacayisland. please do not plagiarize, copy, or steal this work; like, reblogs, and saves are appreciated :D

#john dory headcanons #john dory x reader #trolls x reader #brozone x reader #trolls band together #john dory trolls #dreamworks trolls #trolls #trolls fandom #trolls dreamworks #brozone #trolls 3 #john dory #floyd trolls #clay trolls #branch trolls #branch #trolls floyd

554 notes · View notes

thyme-in-a-bubble · 3 months

Text

the dead ringer

buttercup, chapter three

a/n: yeah, this did happen to me in real life, although it happened on a bus so i couldn't immediately get away... ANYWAYS! enjoy this hurt/comfort heavy chapter!

summary: “I think I know something that might help a bit.”

warnings: matt murdock x baker!reader, neighbours to lovers, rape recovery, ptsd, crying, panic attacks, matt using his superpowers for the sake of hurt/comfort, boxing

word count: 2057

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

previous chapter | series masterlist | next chapter

masterlist | join my taglist

Drizzling the flour into the wide bowl, like a dusty snowfall, you watched the number on the scale carefully as you neared the desired number. Though just before you hit it, Walter’s head suddenly poked in through the doorway leading behind the counter and interrupted you and Howard’s all-too-important discussion on what the day’s music choice should be.

“Hey, Y/n? There’s someone here to see you.”

Laying down the scoop still holding a bit of flour, you dragged your palms down the brown apron tied around your frame and exited the kitchen. A bright smile spread across your face and crinkled up your gaze as you spotted who was standing on the other side of the counter.

“Matt, hey–, oh my god,” you then suddenly noticed the bruising that blossomed out from under his tinted glasses and stretched up over the patched-up scrape that split his left brow, “what happened? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, just wasn’t paying attention last night, tripped and fell, that’s all,” he waved a hand, “I just wanted to stop by on my way to work, get a round of coffees to-go for everyone and perhaps some breakfast for myself, just whatever you think I’d like.”

“You’ll let me pick?” your eyebrows rose slightly.

But Matt simply smiled and said, “I trust your judgment,” his grip shifted gently on the cane standing tall before his chest.

As you moved to make the coffees, “alright,” you drew out a pondering breath, “are you in the mood for something sweet or savoury?”

Thinking about it a second, he uttered, “savoury.”

“Do you like sandwiches?” you popped the lids on the to-go cups. When he nodded, you placed the coffees in a little cardboard tray, “okay, I think you’ll like this one,” grabbed a brown paper bag and moved further down the counter, “it’s made with focaccia and has pesto in it as well as some tomatoes and cheese and stuff.”

“That sounds amazing.”

“I also–, you know what? I’ll be right back,” you then abruptly turned and momentarily disappeared into the kitchen, grabbing a few of the pillowy buns still on the cooling rack into a bag. As you returned, you also snuck a hand into the display case and stuffed a few other goodies into the sack, “just for the others, if they want,” you placed the bundle onto the counter beside the coffees, “I just pulled them out of the oven a bit ago and they’re still warm.”

“What is it?” Matt tilted his chin.

“Uh, some raisin buns, but I also threw two croissants in there in case they didn’t like raisins...”

A soft smile warmed his bruised features as he reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet, “what do I owe you?”

“Oh no,” your hands waved lightly before you, “it’s on the house.”

“Y/n, come on,” he cocked his head.

“Fine,” you light-heartedly sighed, “if you really wanna sing for your supper, then I’ll cash it in at a later date. I don’t know, maybe if I get arrested someday or something you could help me out.”

“You don’t have to bribe me with free baked goods for that.”

“No, but it sure doesn’t hurt, does it?” you chuckled.

“No,” he joined in as he reached for the bags, “I guess it doesn’t.”

“You want some help carrying it?” you asked, hope seeping through your tone, “I could take my break and walk with you the rest of the way.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, we just got through the morning rush, they’ll be fine without me for–, I don’t know, 15 minutes or however long it’ll take to walk to your office and back.”

“Alright, thanks,” he smiled, one paper bag hooked in the fingers that also clutched the cane.

“I’m just gonna go grab my jacket, one second,” you said before ducking into the back to do so, letting your uncles know as you slipped out of your comfortable work clogs and into your sneakers.

You ended up dividing the load, with you carrying the coffees and the last bag in one arm, though a few protests left you at first, begging him to let you carry all of it, they melted away as his free hand enveloped yours.

When you reached his office, your arms wrapped around his frame as you hugged him long enough for your heartbeats to sync up, and just as you pulled away, his wide palms still warm on your back, you leaned in and planted a brief peck on his scruffy cheek.

One of his hands swept up to meet the side of your face as your lips retracted. You pulled back so slowly that you weren’t sure you were moving at all, being drawn in by his warmth like a moth to a flame.

His nose gently grazed against yours as he let himself linger, but just as your eyes fluttered shut in expectance that he’d kiss you, his warmth withdrew and he slowly breathed, “have a good day.”

In a matter of seconds, you had gone from giggling, glancing down at some silly joke on your phone as you walked home, to panic instantly kicking in as a passerby’s voice pierced your soul and made your blood run cold.

Glancing around, you saw a stranger standing off to the side and yapping into his phone. It wasn’t him, it wasn’t Michael, but it sounded exactly like him, so much so that the tone sent your body right back to that very night as if no time had passed at all.

Willing your body to move, forcing it to conquer the short rest of the way home, once your front door shut behind you and your quiet apartment consumed you, painful sobs began to burst out of your trembling frame. Hyperventilating, you crashed into the nearby wall of the entryway directly across from the door, incapable of getting deeper into your home.

Soon, a quiet and surprising knock found your door.

“Y/n?” the worried tone of your neighbour sounded from the other side.

Your shaky voice came out no louder than a whisper, “M-Matt?”

There might not have been any other instances you could recall where accidentally forgetting to lock your door turned out for the better, because when Matt then tried the handle, it gently complied.

Shutting it behind him, he rushed to you, “hey, hey,” he uttered softly, a hand soothingly finding your arm, “what’s going on?”

Attempting an answer, “I–, I–,” only incoherent sobs managed to seep from you.

“Okay, alright,” he sucked in a controlled breath, one of his hands sliding up to the strap of your backpack, “how about we start by getting all the way inside, huh?” gently gliding it off you and resting the bag on the floor.

You let yourself lean into him fully as he supported you on the short journey towards the couch. Wobbly taking a seat, his touch left you as he settled beside you.

Spine curving, you buried your puffy face in your trembling hands, letting the whole world drift away as small lakes were birthed within your palms from your pain.

When the sobs eventually began to subsite, growing further and farther apart, your frame slowly unfurled. Instinctively flicking your hands before your form, you tried to physically shake even a fraction of the excruciating sensation off of you, but without success.

Matt hadn’t moved an inch, simply stayed there right beside you.

When your quiet voice eventually filled space, it came out broken and overflowing with emotion, “I thought it was him… it wasn’t, b-but it sounded exactly like him… I’ve done double takes every time I saw a stranger with the same haircut or felt nauseous every time I encountered the same name, but this really did sound like him. Same voice, same accent, same everything… but it wasn’t him… it wasn’t… it just sent me right back, you know?”

Hesitantly, you grasped his hand in yours, expecting the contact to only make it worse, to somehow taint and ruin his wonderful and soothing touch, but it didn’t, he didn’t. It was Matt.

Trying to regain control of your breathing, you shakily sucked in deep breaths, feeling your gulps of air slowly become calmer and migrate from the very top of your chest, down to expand your sore stomach. Eyes only half open and utterly exhausted, you noticed that your head was now leaning against Matt’s shoulder.

Glancing hazily down at yourself, you muttered, “fuck… I still have my shoes and jacket on…”

Reaching down, he offered, “here,” before sliding your coat off, resting it on the back of the couch, and leaning down to pull your shoes off.

Curling your legs up onto the couch, the shift in your position offered you more relief than you’d expected. As you attempted to get as comfortable as you possibly could in the state you were in, you snatched up Matt’s hand once more.

Offering your palm a soothing squeeze, he asked quietly, “what do you need, huh? What can I do?”

“I–…” you thought, your brain just as drained as your body was, “I don’t know… maybe–… maybe just be here a bit?”

Exhaling lowly, he flashed you a faint smile, “of course.”

Glancing down at his fingers, sweeping across your own, you said, “hey, Matt? Could you maybe–, uh… could you give me a hug?”

Not hesitating, his strong arms engulfed your quivering frame and a fresh wave of sobs swiftly bubbled out of you as he held you tight, though your cries didn’t push him away, he stayed steadfast, embracing you close till the eruption ultimately simmered down, leaving you nearly asleep against his tear-stained shoulder.

As he gently lowered you down to lay on the couch, you tightened your grip on his shirt as he began to pull back, ushering him to sink down as well, allowing you to curl into his safe embrace and let slumber drift you away.

When you finally stirred, the sun was nowhere to be seen.

“Hey,” you blinked up at Matt still in the exact same spot as before.

“Hey,” you replied groggily, “what time is it?” swiftly fishing your phone out of your pant pocket before Matt could conjure an answer, “oh, fuck… it’s nearly midnight… did you sleep as well?”

“Not really,” he shrugged, “maybe for a little bit, but no.”

“Oh…” you breathed, averting your gaze.

“How are you feeling?” his thumb swiped your waist where his broad palm was planted.

“…I don’t know…” you exhaled, “…exhausted… sad… angry… really fucking angry… so angry that it kinda scares me…”

After a beat of silence, with only your woeful breaths filling the space, Matt then uttered, “I think I know something that might help a bit.”

Your gaze drifted from the faded paint on the walls to the worn punching bags as you and Matt sat on the edge of the central ring and his fingers worked at wrapping up your hands.

“Do you come here a lot?” you asked, your vision gliding back to him.

“From time to time,” he tilted his head slightly, “reminds me of my dad,” tucking the last end of the strip under the weave, securing it into place, he closed your hand into a fist and exhaled, “alright, you’re ready,” he adjusted your grip, briefly offering your wrist a squeeze as he said, “just remember to keep your wrist strong and your thumb right here,” he slid your finger down below your knuckles.

You hadn’t gone into it with much hope, in fact, it was only out of your desperation just feel better that you even humoured the experiment. In the beginning, it did feel as silly as you’d imagined, nearly stopped completely, but at some point in the mess of it all, your punches grew more ferocious, they grew more brutal, and suddenly something inside of you snapped and unravelled. It wasn’t some magic pill, but the physical act did loosen something within you and gave away to a fresh release of sobs, though not the painful and unbearable kind you’d had to endure earlier. It was the kind that felt like relief. Even if it wasn’t permanent, in that very moment, you didn’t feel like you were drowning anymore.

#lea’s writing #buttercup series #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock imagine #matt murdock fanfiction #matt murdock fanfic #matthew murdock imagine #matt murdock x y/n #matt murdock x you #daredevil x reader #matt murdock series #matthew murdock x reader #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock angst #matt murdock hurt/comfort

303 notes · View notes

ladykailitha · 11 months

Text

Royal Pain Part 1

Hello, everyone! Welcome to the story that has had my entire weekend on lock. Like every spare moment was writing this story. I wrote over 6000 words in two days. So yeah. Don’t worry. I’m still working on Boy With a Bat (I just need time to research season 3 so I don’t over step on the show’s timeline {like I did with “Little Runaway”}). And of course I love working on “All My Roads Lead Back to You” and will continue working on it as well. Also these first two parts are long. I don’t know if all the parts will be as long, but as you can see when you read them there isn’t a lot of places to stop (and not make them super short).

Summary: No Monster Modern AU. Eddie and his band, Corroded Coffin, have a steady gig at a bar in Indy where they play every weekend. Eddie's life takes a left turn when his regular tattoo artist, Max Mayfield, moves to New York with her boyfriend Lucas Sinclair, newly traded to the New York Knicks. Now needing a new tattoo artist, Jeff recommends "Royal Pain", which even Max agrees is a good shop. On arrival, Eddie is shocked to find Steve is the shop's artist. They hit it off, and slowly move from the barest of acquaintances to boyfriends.

***

“God damn it!” Eddie growled, throwing his phone at the sofa and snarling when it bounced to the floor.

“One day you’re gonna throw it so hard and it will break,” Gareth grumbled from behind his drum set.

It was Corroded Coffin’s weekly practice. They weren’t big or anything, but they had a steady gig at a local metal bar and it paid good money. They drew large enough crowds that they were able to play their own music.

Eddie hopped to his feet to retrieve the discarded phone from the floor. “Yeah, yeah,” he muttered darkly.

“What’s got your panties in such a twist?” Jeff asked from the same sofa Eddie had tossed the phone at. He was tuning his guitar, ear bent toward the strings.

Eddie scoffed. “Like you have any interest in my panties.”

Jeff lunged and grabbed one of Gareth’s drumsticks from the bucket he kept at his side and threw it at Eddie.

“Hey!” both Gareth and Eddie protested.

“Just answer the damn question!” Brian sneered from his place on the battered old floral armchair. “You usually like bitching, so what’s your deal?”

Eddie flopped gracelessly on the lavender two-seater. “That was my tattoo artist,” he groused, crossing his arms petulantly. “Her boyfriend got traded to the New York Knicks so they are moving there and if I want to get my dragon finished before she leaves, I better ‘haul ass’ according to her.”

Eddie’s friends winced. They knew finding a tattoo artist you could trust in a style you liked was hard. And for Eddie to lose his? That sucked. Max Mayfield was one of the best in Indy and to lose her to New York? That was even worse. But her boyfriend, Lucas Sinclair, was an NBA raising star and she went where did. Which meant Eddie had to start all over with a new artist.

Suddenly Eddie straightened up. “Hey, Jeffie!” he said. “Did you ever get that tattoo you wanted done?”

Jeff lit up. “Oh yeah!” He set his guitar aside and rolled up his sleeve and showed them his tattoo. It was of a bullet tearing through the flesh. It was fantastically rendered, where you could see the torn muscles and broken bone. It covered the scar there perfectly. “Isn’t it fucking amazing?”

“Holy shit!” Brian cried. “That is so wicked.”

Eddie leaned forward, eyes wide with wonder. “Yeah fuck, man. Where did you get that?”

“It’s this little place called Royal Pain,” Jeff explained. “The artist, Stevie is so fucking good.”

Eddie chewed on his lip, thinking hard. “Hey, can I get the number?”

Eddie was standing in front of a shop that he wouldn’t have in a million years would have even suspected was a tattoo parlor. It was a clean and bright storefront. The sign was black with a golden crown was on the R. It was a far cry from any other tattoo parlor he had ever been to. But despite his reservations, both Max and Jeff highly recommended this place and specifically this ‘Stevie’.

Sighing deeply, he yanked open the door and took two steps into the shop. The decor was nice enough, it had a ‘royal’ theme to it, he supposed, but he really didn’t look that much. Because suddenly Eddie knew who Stevie was. The name, the royal decor, and Robin fucking Buckley as receptionist.

He was going to kill Jeff. Or maybe just his next three D&D characters. Because there was no way on this insignificant planet did Jeff Lawrence not recognize King Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington. They had all gone to school together. Robin was Steve’s best friend. His soulmate if the rumors were to be believed.

He was about to turn around and walk out, Jeff and Max’s recommendations be damned. Even he wasn’t that masochistic. But he was stopped by the cheerful, “Welcome to Royal Pain! How can I help you?”

Eddie winced and rubbed his eye in frustration, but made his way up to the counter. “Munson, Eddie. I have a two o’clock with Stevie.”

Her smile grew genuine. “Not your first tattoo, I take it.”

Eddie pulled down the collar of his shirt to show of his finished dragon tattoo. “Yeah, no. Some asshole jock absconded to New York with my tattoo artist, so here I am.”

She grinned. “Stevie will be out in a moment.”

Before Eddie could chicken out, the man himself came out of a backroom, wiping off his hands. Eddie gulped. Steve looked very much the same as he did in high school. Same hazel eyes, honey hair, tight jeans and a fucking polo. This guy couldn’t have looked less like a tattoo artist if he tried. Except for one thing.

He could see tattoos on Steve’s arms. He couldn’t get a good look at them without staring but yeah, okay. Steve Harrington, tattoo artist. Who would have thought?

Steve looked up and smiled brightly. “Eddie?” Eddie nodded. “Hey! It’s so good to see you. I had hoped when I saw the name that it was you. How’s it been?”

Robin tilted her head in confusion and made an odd chirping noise.

“Come on, Robs,” Steve teased her. “You can’t tell me you don’t remember Eddie from school.”

She looked Eddie up and down and then cocked her head. “You do look vaguely familiar.”

Steve laughed. “You know, ran the D&D club, had that rock band–”

“Metal,” Eddie corrected. “Not rock, metal.”

Steve snapped his fingers. “That’s right, sorry. Oh! And stood on tables ranting about the man and how schools fail the kids they are supposed to teach.”

“You stepped on my sandwich,” she said deadpan.

Eddie’s eyes went wide. “Whoops.”

She grinned and pushed his shoulder. “Just kidding. It was Tammy Thompson’s sandwich.”

“Isn’t she the one that sings like a Muppet?” Eddie asked, with a raised eyebrow.

Steve laughed. “That’s what I said.”

Robin looked between them both and growled, “I hate you both.”

“You’re only saying that because you had a crush on her,” Steve teased.

Eddie raised an eyebrow, “I didn’t know you swung for the other team, Buckley.”

She grinned. “What can I say, I do love a pretty girl.”

Eddie shrugged and cocked his head, nonchalant. “I wouldn’t know.”

Robin wagged her eyebrows at Steve, who rolled his eyes. He turned to Eddie. “So what am I doing for you today?”

Eddie blinked at him for a moment. “Oh!” He pulled out a picture from his back pocket and handed it to Steve.

“This is the Evenstar from Lord of the Rings, right?” Steve asked, tapping the picture. “Arwen’s necklace.”

Eddie lit up. “Yeah. I’m impressed, even uber fans have a hard time remembering that.”

Steve blushed, ducking his head. “I have this friend that hosts huge parties watching the extended versions of the movies every year. Complete with full Hobbit meals. It’s hard not take in something from the films.”

“Yeah?” Eddie asked, suddenly feeling less like murdering Jeff with each passing moment.

Steve smiled back. “Actually, you might remember him. He was in your club, your final year at school.”

Eddie cocked his head. “Oh?”

“Actually, you had three of Steve’s nuggets in your club,” Robin interjected.

Eddie turned to Steve. “What nuggets would those be?”

Steve blushed again. “I used to quasi-babysit these kids. There were about seven of them, if you count Erica and Elle.”

“Which I absolutely do,” Robin crowed delightedly.

Eddie’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head as he leaned forward. “You babysat kids?”

Steve shrugged. “They were good kids and their parents worked a lot, so they just kinda imprinted on me. Like ducklings.”

“Wait...Lucas, Mike, and Dustin, huh?” Eddie asked putting two and two together. “Holy fucking shit. I loved running their characters. The ranger, the paladin and the bard.” He couldn’t believe it. He had missed out the chance to run with their friend Will, but he had come back to Hawkins after Eddie finally graduated. “Which one was Dustin?”

Steve smiled and then ran his tongue over his teeth. “Floofy hair, trucker hats, Weird Al shirts, and a huge theater nerd.”

Eddie clapped and pointed, “That’s the one!” He tapped his finger over his lips. “Which means it’s Dustin that hosts the Lord of the Rings fest, isn’t he?”

Steve beamed up at him. “Yeah. Sadly I haven’t been able to go the last couple of years.”

Robin made a sympathetic noise.

“Why not?” Eddie asked, the curiosity getting the better of him.

“Migraines,” Steve said with a wince. “Too long staring at a TV set can trigger them, who knew?”

“That sucks.”

Steve looked back at the picture in his hand. “Did you draw this?”

Eddie grinned. “Sure did, big boy!”

“And would you want me to tattoo it in your style?” Steve asked.

Eddie blinked rapidly. “You can do that?”

Robin folded her arms, looking smug. “Hell yeah, he can!”

“I mean, if you can that would be amazing,” he said breathlessly.

“Where is it going, the tattoo, I mean?” Steve asked.

Eddie tapped his chest. “Sternum.”

Steve chewed his lip thoughtfully. “That would be awesome, but have you thought about putting it on your back. Like a shadow covering your spine?”

Robin’s eyebrows shot up.

Eddie shook his head. “As tempting as that would be sweetheart, I have plans for my back.”

Steve looked a little disappointed. “And what would that be?”

“I want big black bat wings on my shoulder blades,” Eddie said gleefully. “I just haven’t found anyone who’s style I liked well enough to trust doing it.”

Steve hurried around the desk and pulled out a large three-ring binder. “This is all my work, flip through it, see if you like my style enough for me to do it for you. Because I would love to. So take a look and let me know if I could be your man.”

Eddie blinked. “Yeah, sure.”

Steve smiled brightly. “Great! I’ll go set up and I’ll call you back when I’m ready.” He practically skipped to the back room again.

Eddie opened the binder slowly and began to shift the pages. They were all amazing pieces of work that only seemed to get better the further he got into the pictures.

“These are amazing,” he breathed.

Robin leaned on the counter and stage whispered, “If you do not get his number after he does your tattoo, I will murder you and no one will find the body.” She leaned back to look down the hall. What she saw Eddie didn’t know, but she leaned back into whisper to him, low and menacing, “I am not paid enough to listen to his rom-com pining bullshit.”

Eddie looked behind her and then back at her. “I’m–I mean–what the hell?”

“Eddie!” Steve called.

Eddie slammed the binder shut and stomped to the back. He stopped short when he got to room. Again he was blown away at how opposite it was from other shops he’d been to. It wasn’t sterile white or anything like that but it was brightly lit and nicely decorated. It was a place that most ‘normies’ would feel comfortable getting their first tattoo. And he got the appeal.

Steve looked up at him with a lopsided smile as if he understood why Eddie was brought up short. “Other tattoo artists give me such shit about my set up, but it’s not about the aesthetic of what people think a tattoo shop should look like. It’s about people feeling comfortable about permanently altering their bodies.”

Eddie nodded. “No man, I get it. It’s just a pleasant surprise, you know?”

Steve grinned at him. “Thanks. Come on, have a seat. Take off your shirt. Relax.” He paused for a moment. “But not necessarily in that order.”

Eddie laughed and pulled off his shirt, tossing it on a nearby chair. He got on the lounge chair and laid back. He noticed the way Steve dragged his tongue over his bottom lip and smirked. Maybe Buckley was right.

“You’ve got a lot of great tattoos,” Steve said, wiping down Eddie’s chest with a mild anesthetic to clean the area. “Your old tattoo artist do those?”

Eddie shrugged. “Yeah, I mean most of them. A couple were stick and poke when I was high school.”

Steve raised an eyebrow. “Shit, really? I wouldn’t have guessed. They’re all really good.”

Eddie blushed. He figured Steve was just being polite because he thought it was fairly obvious which ones were the stick and poke. “Speaking of high school, I would have never in a million years thought that King Steve would become a tattoo artist. You been doing this long?”

Steve chuckled. “Yeah, I got voted most likely to run my own business, but I’m pretty sure they thought something closer along the lines of hair care or some such shit.”

“At least yours was nice,” Eddie grumbled. “I got voted most likely to still be high school at the ten year reunion.”

Steve winced. “Was that the first time or the second time they held you back?”

“First.”

“That’s harsh, man,” Steve commiserated. “Yeah, no, I’ve been doing this for the last five years. Three years at my own shop.”

Eddie raised his eyebrows. “Wait really? That’s epic, dude.”

Steve nodded. “I went with a friend of mine to see about apprenticing under Hop. He caught me doodling on myself because I forgot to bring my drawing pad and offered the apprenticeship to us both.”

“I can see why,” Eddie said. “You do some pretty impressive work. Who was the friend? Robin?”

Steve laughed. “Yeah, no...I love Robin, and she is a lot of wonderful things, artist just isn’t one of them.”

Eddie laughed, too. “Yeah, okay. That’s fair.”

Steve picked up his gun and sat down on the rolling stool. “Nope, Max Mayfield. One of my nuggets, as Robin called them.”

Eddie blinked. “Shit, dude. She was my old tattoo artist? You two really apprenticed under Hop?”

Steve hummed. “Yup.” He turned on the gun and then shut it off again. “I know you said that you wanted it in your style, but can I add my own flourishes to it?”

Eddie cocked his head. “Yeah, sure. I liked what you did with Jeff’s tattoo, so yeah. Knock yourself out, man.”

Steve grinned. “I promise you won’t regret it.”

***

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Epilogue

Permanent Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk @renaissan-vvitch @goodolefashionedloverboi @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @plyerice27 @thedragonsaunt @chaoticlovingdreamer @sapphirecobalt-1 @a-little-unsteddie @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @itsall-taken @justforthedead89 @emly03

#My writing #stranger things #steddie #tattoo artist steve #modern au #ladykailtiha writes

536 notes · View notes

bagopucks · 1 year

Text

A. Matthews - Open Doors

✄————————————

Auston Matthews x Reader

Word Count: 3.2k

Warning(s): mention of temporarily losing a child -as in the kid ran off-, little bit of flirting, a lot of domestic fluff.

I literally just found out the other day too, that Auston’s mother is Hispanic, and that he grew up speaking primarily Spanish to his mother. <3

Proofread loosely

Requests for the reader, Hudson, and Auston can be made! It’s not a full AU, but these three can have specific/special requests!

—————————————

The doors of life open and close at odd times. One can be devastated by the loss of an opportunity, only for the next to be more promising or beneficial. I didn’t assume losing my child would have been an opportunity. Until I found him playing fetch with a man and his fluffy dog. Tossing a little tennis ball across the park and chasing after the dog as if it was a game, while the dog went to get the ball.

“Oh my god! Hudson!” I sprinted in his direction, confusing the poor kid as to why I was so concerned. He was only five, still oblivious to the cruelty of the world. I fell to my knees and hugged my son tight, his quiet giggles and attempts to push me back falling short.

“So that’s his name?” I looked up at the man, smooth skin and a faint stubble. A mustache that looked plucked from the 80’s. And a smile full of pearly white teeth. He had a hat pulled over his head, with a sports logo on it that I hadn’t been all too familiar with.

“Hudson? Yeah. Thank you so much for keeping an eye on him. I just- I took my eye off him for one second and-“ Hudson wiggled from my grasp to go tug the ball from the dog’s mouth.

“Hey, hey. It’s okay. Kids are a lot to handle sometimes. I get it.” His words led my gaze back to Hudson, watching him wrestle with a dog the same size as him.

“You have some of your own?”

“Definitely not,” the man laughed out. “But I babysit for friends sometimes.” When I looked back to him, his hand was held out in a silent offer. I took it and allowed him to help me up off the ground.

“Thank you, again. It means the most.”

“Of course.” Hudson’s laughter drew both our eyes.

“Your dog’s name?” I asked.

“Felix. Your name?” When he asked, I provided, a newfound nervous smile on my lips.

“And yours?” I added.

“Auston with an ‘O’.”

“I don’t work at Starbucks.” I teased softly.

“Yeah, but you’ll need to know how to spell it when you take my number.”

It caught me off guard. And had Auston not found and taken care of my child, I would have turned him down immediately. But considering the circumstances, and his looks, I allowed him to put his number in my phone.

A door had opened, and though I had been hesitant to walk through it, I inevitably did. I walked right into another life. Another world.

“Auston‘s on the tv!”

I was lucky enough that Hudson wanted to walk through it with me.

“Where’s he at, hun?”

“He’s on the ice! Oh! Oh!” the excitement in Hudson’s tone, supporting a guy he had such an attachment to, never ceased to warm my heart. But it also worried me. It would break Hudson if something went wrong between Auston and I. I only asked him a thousand times if he truly wanted a package deal before we got together. And even then I didn’t push any responsibilities on Auston.

We were in a relationship, and I just happened to have a child. But Hudson wasn’t his, and at some point I knew Auston would have to start advocating for the boy’s care if he truly wanted a glimpse of a future for us. But we were a mere two months into our relationship, and I wasn’t in a rush. He already did enough.

“Oh goal! Number thirty four, Auston Matthews!” When I peeked into the living room, I saw my son, standing with his arms wide open and a foot up off the floor. Mirroring the stance of Auston, who performed his signature celly on the tv.

“You better congratulate him on that goal when he gets here tonight.” I slipped back into the kitchen. Hudson smiled and nodded, and he certainly did congratulate Auston when the time came. When he came barreling through my front door with a bag in hand and dressed down in a pair of shorts and a sweatshirt. His unruly yet flawlessly curly hair was damp, I assumed from a shower. It was dark outside, but my front drive was illuminated by the automatic motion triggered light.

“What did ya think of that, Buddy?” Auston’s voice rang out, and I looked up from the couch in time to see Hudson abandon his toys on the floor to barrel headfirst into Auston’s legs.

“Awesome!”

“That first one was for you.” Auston ruffled Hudson’s hair, trying to take a step forward only for my son to cling to his leg, hitching a ride.

“Who was the second one for?”

“Your mom, goof.” Auston’s cheery tone made me roll my eyes. Hudson pulled away from the man when he made it to the couch, dropping down, and the bag in his hand making enough noise to finally gain my child’s attention. And my curiosity.

“What’s in the bag?” I asked, turning my body sideways to face his own.

“An early birthday gift for Hudsy.” I raised a brow. I hadn’t expected Auston to get anything. Or even to remember the detail I mentioned in passing. Hudson however, lit up like a Christmas tree.

“Lemme see!”

“Oh just wait. You’re gonna love ‘em.” I folded my arms across my chest, as if to challenge his statement. My kid was picky. He didn’t like a lot of things. He was always grateful, yes, but still opinionated.

“Up on the couch.” Auston smiled from ear to ear as Hudson climbed up onto the cushion between us. “Alright. This is just the first part of your gift okay? We have to build on it.” I raised a brow as Auston reached into the bag.

“Come on!”

“Hudson.” I scolded gently. He glanced back at me with a sorry expression. “Patience.” He nodded and looked back at Auston, who in turn looked at me for approval to continue. I nodded.

“Ready?” He teased.

“Yes!” Hudson could barely hold still. And when Auston pulled out a black box labeled on the top with ‘CCM’, my boy’s brow furrowed in confusion. Then he opened the box, and twisted it around in his lap to show Hudson the fresh pair of rollerblades.

“Oh my god!”

“Auston,” my tone took on an immediate sound of surprise and tension. Auston’s initial expression of excitement upon Hudson’s reaction, turned into concern upon hearing my own. “Those were expensive- those had to be expensive.”

“It’s okay. I don’t mind.. it’s just skates, and he can use these for years.”

“His feet aren’t going to stay that small for years.” I argued in a soft tone, careful not to upset Hudson.

“They’ll stay small long enough.” Auston was always so nonchalant about everything. So ‘it is what it is.’ Sometimes it calmed me. Other times it stressed me out. I wasn’t sure what to make of his attitude at that point, so instead I let out a sigh and nodded.

“Okay,” I gave in.

“We have to try them out!”

“Not in the house.” I was swift to tell Hudson.

“Outside!”

“Right now? In the dark?” I glanced at Auston. “He could fall and hurt himself in the dark.”

“I’ve got him.”

I’d never trusted another man more with my child. Not once. Not his father, not my father, not my grandfather. But Auston?

“I’ll get his bike helmet.” I slowly stood up, straightening out the satin shorts of my pjs.

“Auston doesn’t wear a helmet!”

“He does on the ice.”

“Not when he’s rollerblading.” Hudson’s persistence made me groan.

“Tonight, he wears a helmet.”

And he did. My pink and black bike helmet. That I had to loosen a bit to fit his head properly. I followed the boys outside, and watched Auston get his own rollerblades from the trunk of his car before he came back to the porch steps.

“You sit down right there, and I’ll tie ‘em for you. Okay?” Hudson immediately plopped down on the edge of the deck, and I set his skates down beside him.

I opened the front door and reached inside to turn the porch light on.

“You boys gonna want snacks or water?”

“Hmm.. no thanks.” Hudson shook his head, far too excited as Auston got down on his knees slipped the kid’s first skate on.

“You got Goldfish still?” I stifled a laugh when Auston looked up at me.

“Always. Goldfish and two waters?”

“That’s a good idea.” I slipped back inside to grab the box of Goldfish, only to open the fridge and pause when it dawned on me.

I had a man in my front drive, putting a pair of skates on my kid. Teaching him how to do something. Something athletic. Something sporty. Promising to protect him. Trying to be a father. I felt the tightness in my throat before the burning of tears in my eyes accompanied it. I never imagined a world where Hudson had a dad. I wanted to, but I had pushed it aside long ago. I sniffed and wiped my eyes, the faint sound of laughter creeping through the open front door.

I asked myself why I left it open, when anybody could have walked inside? Because there was a man in my yard. Watching my kid. There was a man who granted love and protection. And ease to a life of constant stress. I smiled so hard it hurt. I slipped the two bottles of water from the fridge and closed the door before leaving the kitchen to go back outside. Greeted by the sight of Auston skating backwards, holding Hudson’s hands and guiding him forward down the slight slope of my driveway. Hudson’s foot slipped, and a moment of terror gripped my chest before Auston hoisted him up by his arms. Relief flooded my system. I was not one to film many things, but I had no shame in quickly setting the water and Goldfish aside, running inside to grab my phone, coming back with the video already playing, focusing my camera on the two in the driveway.

“Don’t point your feet inward. You gotta keep ‘em straight.” Auston would occasionally stop to nudge Hudson’s feet apart with one of his own.

“Look up at me. You look at the ground and you won’t know where you’re going.” He’d guide Hudson’s eyes straight with gentle words.

“When you start to get the hang of it, I have to let you go.” I couldn’t see my kid’s face, but I knew there was fear in his eyes. I had since set my phone down, leaning against the rail. I wanted to call to him, to remind him he’d be okay, but I decided to allow Auston a chance. No better time to learn like the present. And if I was going to completely trust Auston in the future with my kid, I needed to know he could handle every situation.

“It’s gonna happen, bud.” He slowed to a stop. “I know it’s scary, but falling is part of learning.” He leaned forward a bit. “You know what I used to do when I always fell?”

“What?” Hudson’s quiet voice was barely audible to me.

“I’d go running to my mom. And she’d hold me, and clean up my bumps and bruises. And then she’d send me right back outside to do it again.”

“Why?”

“Because sometimes you gotta fail to learn.”

“What did your dad do?”

Auston was caught at a loss for words, but only for a second.

“He’d usually just tell me to walk it off.. which is why I never went to him too much.” He passed off the answer as a joke, laughing quietly. I could tell by Hudson’s silence, that he didn’t understand how that was funny, or why Auston was laughing.

“What would you do?”

“After he told me to walk it off?”

“No.. what would you do- if I fell?”

I stiffened. I noticed the way Auston’s eyes drifted past Hudson to look at me. His brow furrowed in a questioning manner. I gave him a look of approval. So far, so good. Perhaps he knew how much our relationship and his place in mine and Hudson’s life rode on that answer.

“Well, first I’d have to pick you up, and I’d have to go rummaging through your mother’s cabinets to find stuff to clean any cuts. Probably slap a couple Hello Kitty bandaids on ya..” he smiled, let out a breathy laugh.

“I don’t like Hello Kitty!”

“Transformers?”

“Better.”

“Alright, Transformers.” Auston removed one of his hands from Hudson’s to ruffle his hair. “And after the bandaids it’s right back outside. Unless you really don’t want to. But sometimes tough love is a good thing.”

“Tough love.” Hudson repeated in a quizzical manner.

“Like.. making somebody do what they don’t want to, because you know it’s gonna benefit them in the end. Like helping them get over a fear.. like if there’s a girl they really wanna ask out, but they’re too afraid. Sometimes you gotta push ‘em into it.” Maybe not the best example, but I’d give Auston credit where it was due. He was doing a good job.

“Girls are gross.”

“They are.” The boys shared quiet laughter as I rolled my eyes.

“And what if the girl says no?”

“Then she says no. And you learn from that experience. The same way it is when you fall. You’re always gonna fall on skates. I still do it sometimes. It’s about knowing there’s a chance you’re gonna fall, and being brave enough to still go out and do it.” Silence followed Auston’s words. Then I saw Hudson nod.

“You can let me go.”

“Look at you, big man.” Auston teased, slow to release Hudson’s other hand. “Don’t move yet, okay? Just get a feel for standing.”

“Okay..” I watched Hudson straighten his ankles, and find a good stance.

“Move when you’re ready.”

We were out there for another hour or so. Well past Hudson’s bedtime. He fell a few times, but thanks to the sweater and pants he had on, he avoided any bleeding or cuts. My heart lurched every time Hudson tumbled, but the ache wasn’t near as bad when I watched Auston help him up and dust him off, asking if anything hurt too much or if he wanted to take a break. The only breaks they did take were for the occasional sip of water or a handful of goldfish. I took time to praise Hudson when he accomplished standing better, skating longer lengths, understanding the way to move. Then eventually my encouragement turned to quiet laughter as the boys started playing around.

Auston hoisted Hudson onto his shoulders, keeping a tight grip on the kid as he skated circles in the driveway. A playful yell occasionally falling from the boys’ lips.

When a yawn slipped past my own, I knew it was time to go in. I slowly stood up from my porch chair and reached for the box of Goldfish. Auston and Hudson both looked at me. Like deer in headlights.

“What are you doing with those?” Auston was the first to ask.

“Hudson needs to go to bed.” I informed him with a smirk.

“What?” Hudson whined. “No!”

“You’ve been up well past your bedtime, Buddy.” I placed my free hand on my hip.

“Please! Just another five minutes? Auston’s gonna leave!” I raised a brow.

“He’ll be back another time.”

“Yeah, when I’m at school.” I had been completely transparent with Hudson when Auston and I got together. He knew we were dating. At first he was uncertain, but he’d grown comfortable with the idea. His only issue since then had been the fact that he was never home when Auston was around.

“It’s a Saturday tomorrow.” When Auston spoke up, my gaze flickered toward him. I wasn’t sure whose side he was arguing for.

“And?”

“I have extra clothes in my trunk.”

“You wanna stay?”

“Can I stay?”

“Please!” Hudson immediately chimed in, his hands landing awful hard on top of Auston’s helmet. He flinched, but recovered quickly.

“You gonna put him to bed too?”

“Please!” Hudson’s excitement went momentarily unnoticed by us, trying to have a semi-serious conversation.

“I can do that.”

I acted as though I was contemplating my options, before I waved a hand and began to walk inside.

“I guess he can stay.” I knew Hudson let out a shout of excitement, but I was almost certain Auston had muttered a quiet, ‘yes’ as well.

The boys followed me into the house, Hudson running for his bedroom after Auston had set him down.

I stopped in the kitchen to set the water and crackers aside before walking into the living are.

“Where’s he off to?” I questioned as I folded up the blanket on the couch.

“Changing into his pjs.”

I chuckled and tossed the blanket into the basket by the wall.

“And you?” I folded my arms across my chest. “What do you think you’re sleeping in?”

“This.” He gestured to what he had on as he slowly crossed the floor. Auston rested his hands on my arms. “Or whatever I can get away with that’s less.”

“Auston.” I scolded softly.

“Cariño.” Darling. Honey. Dear. I leaned into his chest, and Auston slowly wrapped his arms around me. I hadn’t been so vulnerable with a man in a long time. Auston simply made it too easy.

“You have a kid to put to bed.” I spoke reluctantly.

“And a girlfriend to worry about.”

“You do too much, Aus.”

“I’d argue I haven’t done enough.” His confession was heartwarming and gut wrenching at the same time.

“You’ll get there.” I promised. “It’s a learning process. But right now, you’re doing amazing.” I slowly pulled back to look at him. “Hudson loves you. I love you. You make us happy. You’re here at times nobody expects you to be.. like tonight, with that birthday gift.” I paused. “Early birthday gift.” I watched him smile.

“So I’m meeting your standards?”

“Going above and beyond.” I promised, standing on my tippy toes. Auston leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss to my lips.

“You should probably go find Hudson before he falls asleep.” I whispered. “He likes it when I tuck the blankets under his feet, and sometimes he likes his fan on. You have to ask.”

“Thanks.” Auston slowly pulled away.

“Don’t forget to sing to him too.” I watched his eyes go wide.

“I have to sing?” He sounded shocked. I laughed.

“I don’t make the rules, Aus.” I shrugged. “But I promise the secret’s safe with me if you sing for him.”

“Its not that it’s just- I mean.. I suck at singing.”

“He’s a kid. The most he’ll do is laugh at you and tell you to quit.”

“Then what?”

“Then you come find me. I’ll sing for him.”

✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾

#nhl imagine #nhl x reader #auston matthews x reader #auston matthews #auston matthews imagine #auston matthews blurb

453 notes · View notes

a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all · 2 years

Text

Worth the Wait (Part 1)

Fandom: Top Gun, Top Gun: Maverick, Jake "Hangman" Seresin, f!reader

Word Count: 3857

TW: Fluff, Kissing, Lead Up to Smut, Unwanted Flirting, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Misunderstanding, Reference to Reader's Appearance

Top Gun Masterlist

Part 1, Part 2 (Coming Soon)

The first time Jake laid his eyes on you, it seemed as if everything else in the room faded away until you were the only thing left in his world. You were behind the bar wiping down the bar top, a cheeky grin on your face as you exchanged a few teasing back-and-forths with some of the other patrons. Jake had only been to The Hard Deck a few times before, but he knew you mustn’t have been working those days because there was no way he could ever forget your face.

There were a lot of beautiful girls in the town around the Navy airbase, but he had never seen someone like you. And as he walked up to the bar, all he could think about was how much more beautiful you were going to look later tonight in his bed.

You smiled as you saw him approaching and asked, “What can I getcha?” Your voice was sweet yet there was a playful edge to it that just drew him in even further.

Jake flashed you a toothy smile that usually had the ladies swooning and flustered. “How about your number?”

However, instead of seeming flattered as expected, you just rolled your eyes as your smile withered. “Wow! You know that’s the first time someone has used that line on me….. tonight. Unfortunately, that’s not on the menu. So, I can either get you a drink or you can make room at the bar for someone who actually wants to order.”

Jake’s face dropped immediately as he stuttered out an apology, introduced himself, then asked for a beer.

You gave him your name and nodded before offering him a soft smile. “And hey, it’s okay. I just need to let people know where we stand right off the bat. Don’t get me wrong. You’re very easy on the eyes, but I don’t date fighter pilots.”

Jake scoffed. “Then why are you working at a bar specifically targeted for the airfield?”

“Because I also don’t date customers. So that just gives me two reasons to turn you down.” You placed his beer in front of him, patted his hand lightly, and walked away.

His eyes followed you as you approached Rooster on the other side of the bar and began chatting to him. He said something that made you laugh, and you reached over and ruffled his hair before stealing his aviators off his face. You put them on and danced out of his reach as he leaned over the bar trying to snatch them back. The joyful look on your face made Jake’s heart leap in his chest and he wished he could make you smile like that. But no, of course, it had to be Rooster of all people to make you that happy.

Jake had butted heads with the other pilot from the first day of Top Gun and things had only gotten worse since then. Rivalries were always expected in these kinds of situations, but this was quickly turning into something deeper. Jake couldn’t stand how everyone always seemed to buy into Rooster’s nice guy routine. And while Jake had made a few friends, Rooster seemed to be loved by everyone. Now apparently, that included you.

But Jake never gave up without a fight. Sometimes it just took a little persistence.

“So why don’t you date fighter pilots?” Jake asked as he settled onto one of the bar stools the next Friday night.

You sighed and put your hands on your hips as you turned to face him, but Jake could tell it was more in jest than in true annoyance. “Have you seriously been waiting all week to ask me that?”

“Yeah, pretty much. I just want to know what I’m up against trying to convince you to go out with me.”

“It’s a pretty solid case, but good luck. Currently, both my brother and godfather are fighter pilots and my dad used to be one before he was killed in a training accident before I was born. So, I have personal experience with the kind of stress and worry it takes to love someone whose job puts them in constant danger and it’s just not something I’m looking for in a relationship. I have enough people to worry about dying in a fiery plane crash as it is, I don’t need to add a boyfriend to that list.”

Jake smiled as he slid a toothpick between his teeth. “Then you’ve got nothing to worry about with me, sweetheart. I’m the best pilot here. I own the sky.”

Your eyes narrowed slightly as your expression darkened. “Yeah, well, it’s attitudes like that which get people killed. Maybe it won’t be you, but then it’ll be someone who’s counting on you.” You glanced over your shoulder and your hard glare softened slightly. “And besides, I think a few people may disagree with your claims.” You set his beer down on the bar before walking over to where Rooster and Phoenix had just arrived.

Jake felt his blood begin to boil. Once again, he had lost your attention to Rooster. For someone who said they didn’t like fighter pilots, you sure did seem close with him. You said something and Rooster’s eyes darted to Jake’s. His jaw was clenched as he started to rise out of his seat, but you smacked him in the chest and sternly said something while jamming your finger in his face. Slowly, Rooster lowered himself back onto the stool but his eyes never left Jake’s.

There was definitely something between you two and Jake wondered if it had anything to do with why you wouldn’t give him a chance. But he was always up for a challenge. One way or another, he would wear you down eventually.

“So, you’ve never tried dating a fighter pilot before? You’ve just decided it’s not something you want to do.”

You shook your head in mock disbelief. “I don’t even get a hello anymore? A ‘how are you doing?’ or a ‘you look nice today’?”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t think that needed to be said. You’re always the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen. I could go into detail if you want, but it would take the rest of the night to properly do you justice.”

“Wow, that’s a bit overkill but thanks.” You tried brushing off his comment like it didn’t matter, but Jake could see you flush slightly as you tried to hide a soft smile. “And actually, I did date a pilot once. It went exactly how I expected, and I spent the whole relationship worried about him and not enough time actually enjoying our time together. So now we’re just friends and I don’t date pilots.”

Rooster. It had to be. That was the relationship between you two. The way you acted around him definitely showed there was something deeper than just a casual acquaintanceship there. Jake could tell from the first night he saw you two together that you had some sort of connection, and this made perfect sense.

“But one bad experience made you swear off pilots forever? That doesn’t seem fair to all the eligible guys around here. You’ve never been tempted to give it another shot with one of us?” Jake leaned across the bar until he was only a few inches from you.

You bit your lip before leaning in towards him, the space between you now almost nonexistent. Softly, you whispered, “If I’m being honest…. When I first saw you walk into the bar a few weeks ago, I couldn’t breathe. You were so handsome, and your smile just made me melt.” You leaned over even further so your lips practically brushed against his. “Then you came over to talk to me and…… You opened your mouth and ruined it.” You smacked him playfully in the face with your rag as you straightened up.

Jake swallowed hard as he tried to wrap his head around what just happened. He had been so sure that this was it, that he was finally going to kiss you. Yet, every time he thought he had you figured out, you managed to completely pull the rug out from underneath him. And he was finding it irresistible.

Your playful smile began to droop as Jake remained frozen in place after your little joke. “Hey, are you okay? I was just messing around. I didn’t mean to offend you or anything.”

“Um, no, sorry.” Jake cleared his throat as he straightened up. “I just wasn’t expecting that.”

“Well, maybe now you know how it feels.”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

You sighed. “Listen, I like you, Jake. You seem like a great guy, but only when you drop all this bullshit flirting. I’ve met plenty of guys like you and know what you really want. And I’m sorry, but you’re just not going to get it from me. So, either you can move on to your next target and I’ll just hand you your beer in peace, or you can drop the whole suave, cool guy thing and we can be friends. Take your pick.”

Jake didn’t even consider it. As much as he wanted something other than friendship, he had also become too intrigued by you to lose you completely. So, he stuck out his hand, “Friends it is then. No more flirting, I promise.”

You narrowed your eyes in mock skepticism, but you took his hand. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

But Jake kept his word. Every Friday and Saturday night, he would show up just as your shift started and the two of you would chat in between customers. He learned more about your family, your friends, where you were born, what brought you to work at The Hard Deck, what your goals were in life, what you were scared of, what your favorite food was, what your favorite movie was, what your favorite color was…. The list went on and on.

Jake couldn’t remember the last time he got to know someone on such an intimate and personal level. And each of these tiny little facts made his heart soar each time he managed to uncover a new one. This was starting to turn into something so much more than he had ever anticipated when he first laid eyes on you, and yet, he couldn’t get enough.

In fact, about week five, he stopped even considering switching back into his flirtatious mode. This relationship had become something so much more than chasing that “yes” to him. So, it came as a complete surprise when you finally asked him out instead despite your earlier objections. It was just something small to test things out, but it was more than Jake had ever expected and he jumped at the chance.

So, that Sunday he arrived at the bar to pick you up. The two of you had planned on meeting on the beach in about twenty minutes, but Jake couldn’t wait, and he thought meeting you here would be a nice surprise. However, as he walked into the bar, he heard heated voices volleying back and forth. Sticking to the shadows, he snuck closer to the main room until he was able to make out what the voices were saying. And he was stunned as he realized who the voices belonged to.

“No!”

“Brad-”

“I said no! End of discussion. You are not going out with Hangman.” Rooster’s voice was firm and unwavering as he made his decision known.

But you weren’t having any of it. With just as much force, you said, “Listen, I respect your opinion, but you can’t tell me what to do. If I want to go out with him, I will. I’m not ten anymore where you can tell me I can’t go to the movies with a boy. I’m an adult and if I want to date Jake, I’m going to date Jake.”

“Well, Jake is not a good guy. He’s an arrogant prick who only looks out for himself and hits on just about every girl he sees. You don’t need to become just another notch in his bedpost because you know as soon as you put out, he’ll just move on to the next girl.”

“Oh, don’t be crude. I can handle myself and I’m not an idiot. I know what kind of guy Jake is and what he’s done in the past. But honestly…. I feel like he’s different with me.” Your tone softened for just a moment before it regained its sharp edge. “However, I’m not naïvely thinking I’m special or I can change him or any of that. I’m not going to just throw myself at the guy. We both said we would take it slow. Like tonight, we’re just going for a walk on the beach to talk. That’s it.”

Rooster scoffed. “That’s what you said about Bobby Pierson, and I found him sneaking out of your bedroom the next morning!”

“I was sixteen! Don’t even get me started on the stupid shit you did at that age!”

Rooster took a slow, deep breath. When he spoke again, he was calmer, and Jake could feel the concern and affection in his voice. “I’m not trying to control you, okay? I’m just worried about you and I want to make sure you’ll be alright. I know you like him, but I just have a really bad feeling about this.”

“It’s just because you don’t like him,” you responded, also calmer and more tenderly. “I’m not saying Jake’s a perfect person. I just really like him and want to see where this might go, good or bad. And I’d appreciate if you could support that choice.”

“You know I’m going to support you in anything you do. Just… be careful, okay?”

“Always. And thank you for being there for me. I know I don’t always seem appreciative of it, but it means the world to me.”

Jake peeked out from his hiding place just in time to see you wrap your arms around Rooster, and he quickly returned the embrace. The two of you remained like that for a moment before you reached up and placed a soft kiss on his cheek. That was the final straw for Jake.

He stormed out of the shadows and into the main bar area as he scowled, “What the hell is this?”

You and Rooster both dropped your arms but neither one of you moved away from one another. You looked surprised but not as if you had been seen doing something wrong. More as if you were just caught off guard. “Jake! I thought I was supposed to meet you on the beach?”

“Yeah, well, I thought I’d surprise you, but I guess the surprise is on me. I show up to find this dickhead trying to bad mouth me to you and then you kiss him? Minutes before we’re supposed to go out? What the hell!”

Both you and Rooster stared at Jake like he just grew another head. Then slowly, a look of realization settles on both of your faces as Rooster turned towards you. “You didn’t tell him?”

You shrugged in bewilderment. “I thought he already knew! Or that you would have given him ‘the speech’ or something by now.”

“I was going to, but I haven’t gotten around to it.”

“I mean, I thought practically everybody knew. Phoenix knows, Penny knows, all your instructors who come in here know. And we talked about stuff, but I guess I never made it explicit?”

As Rooster opened his mouth to say something else, Jake cut him off frustratedly. “Do either of you two want to tell me what the hell is going on?”

You take a few steps forward and gently take his hand. “Jake…. Bradley’s my brother.”

Jake’s mouth fell open as he glanced back and forth between the two of you. “You- your brother?”

“Yeah. I’m sorry, I would have mentioned it sooner, but I honestly thought you knew. We talked about my brother being a fighter pilot and we have the same last name. Plus, I mean, we do look a lot alike.”

Jake had never thought about it but now that you pointed it out, you were right. The two of you shared a lot of similar features though you were by no means identical. Still, it was something he should have picked up on especially since he saw the two of you together all the time.

Still trying to grasp the situation, he pointed at both of you. “So…. this was all just about your brother trying to talk you out of dating me?”

“I mean, can you really blame him? You two don’t exactly get along and he’s always been pretty overprotective.”

“No, I’m just protective. You get yourself into a lot of stupid situations, and I don’t want to see it happen again. Especially not with him.” Rooster jabbed a finger in Jake’s direction.

You roll your eyes. “Glass houses, Bradley. Just because you’re older doesn’t mean I’m the only one who makes mistakes they need to be protected from repeating. Or should I tell Jake about you and Melissa Goodman?”

Rooster’s face instantly went white as a sheet. “You wouldn’t dare!”

“Just try me! Now, are you going to leave us alone and let us go on this date, or do you want me to keep talking?”

He glanced back and forth between you and Jake before grabbing his jacket off the bar top. “Fine. Do what you want. Just don’t come crying to me when he hurts you.” He started to storm out but paused as he got shoulder to shoulder with Jake. In a hushed tone, so only Jake could hear, he growled, “If you do hurt her in any way, I will find a way to shoot you out of the sky for real.” And then he was gone.

You looked up at Jake, lips pursed as you tried to gauge what he was feeling. “I’m sorry but I really thought you knew. But now that you do…. does it change anything? Do you still want to go out?”

“Of course, I still want to go out. This doesn’t change anything between you and me, so I don’t see a problem with it.” Jake said with a shrug.

Your smile lit up the room as you gave him a quick hug. “I’m so glad! Okay, let me lock up and we can go!”

An hour later, the two of you finished your walk and were just reapproaching the bar. And while the conversation had been light and interesting, Jake could tell you were still thinking about what happened earlier. So, he finally asked, “Is there anything else you think we need to talk about?”

You sighed. “About my brother…. Are you sure you’re okay with this? I know you two aren’t exactly friends and Bradley’s not thrilled with me seeing you.”

“I mean, it’s a little weird but Rooster can just suck it up like the big boy he is. Though, I can’t wait to see his face when I get back to base tonight.”

You sighed again and stopped walking. “Jake, if we are going to try this, it has to be about us. I’m not going to just be a way for you to mess with my brother. So, if that’s what you’re planning, I’m calling it quits right now.”

“No, no, hey. I’m sorry. Listen, I liked you long before I found out about your brother. Sure, it might be fun to give him a little extra jab about it every once and a while, but not at the cost of losing you. I’ll keep my mouth shut.”

You raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “You really think you can do that?

“Of course. If I could stop flirting with you for weeks when all I wanted to do was kiss you, I think I can stop from rubbing it in Rooster’s face I’m dating his sister.”

“You… you’ve been wanting to kiss me?” You asked softly.

Jake hadn’t even really realized what he admitted to when he said that, but it was the truth. “Well, yeah. I figured you knew that since I was coming on too strong and you had to tell me to stop flirting with you. But that time you teased me and leaned over so we practically kissed? I almost leaped over the bar and carried you out of there right then! It was tough but I-”

Jake was instantly silenced by your lips on his. You pressed your body tightly against his as you ran your hand through the back of his hair. Though surprised, Jake leaned into your embrace and gripped your hips tightly, using them to pull you in even closer.

After a moment, he broke away and breathlessly asked, “I thought you wanted to take things slow?”

“Maybe I lied. Maybe I just wanted to see if you’d still want to go out with me after that. And besides, just because I’m not a pilot doesn’t mean I don’t like going fast.” You placed another long, lingering kiss on his lips before adding, “But if you tell Bradley about this, we’re through.”

“Yeah, no, that’s fair.” He captured your lips again and lifted you up, your legs immediately wrapping around his waist. With his mouth still on yours, he carried you into the bar and set you down on the bar top. Then, he ripped off his shirt and grinned as your eyes grew wide as they soaked in his finely sculpted physique. Tentatively reaching out, you ran your fingers lightly over his firm stomach muscles, sending a shiver of pleasure through him.

You smiled at his reaction before removing your own shirt. Now it was Jake’s turn to marvel at the sight before him. He leaned in to kiss you again, but you placed a hand on his chest. “Jake, just….. please don’t break my heart.”

He reached out and softly brushed a loose strand of hair off your face. “Never, sweetheart. I could never do that to you.”

“How do I know that’s not just a line? That Bradley’s right and you’re just using me?”

“I know there’s nothing I can say that won’t sound like a line or an empty promise. But we can stop, right now. I really don’t want to, but if that would help make you feel better about things, we can just go finish our walk on the beach. I don’t want this to be one night of fun. I want this to be potentially a lifetime of fun. So, if that means waiting, we will.”

You stared at him for a long moment, and Jake could see you weighing all scenarios in your mind. But finally, you said, “You’re right. That did sound like another line. But damn it, it was a good one.”

You pulled him into you once more, and as Jake laid you down across the bar top, all he could think was you had been well worth the wait.

1K notes · View notes

clydiepie · 1 year

Note

can I request some hcs of clyde with a reader who loves to draw him? they always doodle him in their sketchbook, in the corner of their notes, etc etc. ty!

Clyde x reader who likes to draw!

Thank you so much to everyone that has sent me requests! I will try to do them as fast as I can! I really liked this one (y'all know I love my Clyde) so I hope you like it! I used she/her pronouns since you didn't specify I hope that's okay!

Clyde Donovan x reader who liked to draw (pre-existing relationship)

She/her pronouns

baby boy clyde<3

fluffy!

cw: none!

Clyde knew you loved to draw

Whenever the two of you were together you normally had your sketchbook in hand

You were always pretty private about what you drew and you never wanted him to see, even though he was so curious

Even in class you constantly doodle on the pages of your notebook not really paying a lot of attention.

Cylde would notice you constantly stealing glances at him during the lecture but he thought it was nothing

At lunch, you sat with Clyde and his friends Craig and Tweek

"Hey babe you seemed a little distracted during class, so I got Kyle to send me a copy of his notes for you." Clyde smiled shoving a forkful of food in his mouth and chewing contently

You blushed remembering what had captured your attention during class

"Oh you didn't have to do that, I appreciate it though" You smile scooting closer to him at the lunch table

Clyde just hummed in contentment as he wrapped a strong arm around your waist

After your last class was done you met Clyde by your locker where he always waited for you

You gathered your things and Clyde wrapped his arm around your shoulder as you both walked toward the front doors

But just before you could reach the door Butters came running around the corner and knocked your books out of your hands making papers fly everywhere.

Butters starts to profusely apologize rambling on about how Cartman needed him quickly for some scheme

You tell him it's no worries as you bend over to collect your things

You look down at the ground to see Clyde has already started to gather the papers that had flown every which way

You see his face turn a dark shade of red as he examines a particular piece of paper. the one you just so happened to be doodling on in class

He looks up at your embarrassed face and asks "Is this me?"

"Ha um yeah.." you explain shyly as you rub the back of your neck

He calmly stands up and folds the paper into a square and sticks it in his pocket

Before you can ask what he was doing he spoke up again

"I'm keeping this, I hope you don't mind." he smiles and hands you all the other paper he gathered

"You don't think it's weird." you laugh

"Not at all, I think it's cute you're obsessed with me." He smirks putting his hands on your waist and drawing you in close

"Don't let this go to your head." you giggle

"Too late." he mumbles before pulling you in for a kiss

I also think after his he would want to look at your art all the time

Like all of it even the stuff not about him or stuff you think is "bad"

He is without a doubt your number 1 fan for sure

I can imagine him standing in a Micheals craft sore for an hour trying to pick out a good gift for you

"Fine tip? what does that even mean?" he would mumble to himself

He also defiantly brags to all his friends about your talent

"Guys Y/N drew this sketch yesterday, isn't she so talented?' he would gush

He is definitely the type to go behind your back and swipe some pieces to put in his locker

In between classes, he liked a little reminder of you to look at (but when you found out he had stolen your art you defiantly let him have it)

One day he was at his locker with the boys and Cartman had dared to make a comment about the goofy sketch you had made for fun taped up in Clyde's locker

"Dude, what is that?" Cartman laughed pointing at the picture

"Y/N drew that for me so shut the fuck me." Clyde barked

On your anniversary Clyde tried his hardest to draw something nice for you, he tried to draw the two of you together on your first date.

"Oh it's so cute...what is it?" you sheepishly laughed

"It's us! can't you tell?" he huffed, his face as red as his coat

"Ohhhh I see it now." you smile at him, taking his hand in yours

After that, he vowed to take an art class next year so maybe one day he could draw you something not so shitty

If any of your art was ever displayed anywhere Clyde would hype you up to no end

"My girlfriend is so talented." he beamed at you with pride looking at a piece you made hung up

"Clyde it's just on your fridge." you laughed

"Hey, that's a place of honor babe."

------------

I hope you liked that! I kinda got carried away but I just liked his prompt so much!!! Have a great day!!!

-M<3

#south park x reader #south park x y/n #south park clyde #clyde donovan x reader #clyde donovan

118 notes · View notes

xxlady-lunaxx · 15 days

Text

Will you love me? | {KokuZan}

Theme: Floof mostly

Note: Modern AU? They're sons of two businessmen who are working together (idk make it up), they're not dating yet-

Muzan's dating Uta (I DONT SHIP THIS OK ITS JS FOR THE PLOT)

Koku's single :3

aaand a bit of YoriiUta

×××

Yoriichi had always been the favorite. The favorite child, the media's favorite, the school's favorite. Michikatsu shadowed him almost always, only approached so people could get Yoriichi's number. Occasionally, people would go up to Michikatsu to get to know him, but it usually involved ulterior motives such as gaining fame or having some 'friend with benefits'. It tended to be women who were like this and, in fact, Michikatsu had absolutely no interest in them.

Days, months, years of being overshone by Yoriichi made life pretty much like being the background actor in a show—nobody knew or cared who you were, barely even noticed you. Sometimes even his own parents.

So it was strange when, one day, his parents told them both that they would be working with some other business. They invited the family who owned the business over for dinner. Interestingly, they also had a son, around Michikatsu and Yoriichi's age. The three of them were sent upstairs so the adults would talk about 'more important matters.'

The son was a bit on the shorter side with short, cropped black hair and intense red eyes. His name was Muzan, he said. But it wasn't about who he was, or how he looked. More about where his attention was drawn to.

Usually, people turned to Yoriichi, having recogonized him from some modeling in a magazine Michikatsu had never heard about before. But this time, Muzan addressed Michikatsu first with, what seemed like, genuine curiosity in his gaze.

"You're Michikatsu, right?" he asked.

Michikatsu and Yoriichi both stared at him, stunned. Having expected the attention to be droven to his younger brother, Michikatsu had already positioned himself behind Yoriichi. So when Muzan had spoken, not to Yoriichi, but to Michikatsu, the twins both stood there, half wondering if this was their imagination.

Then, perhaps getting a grip of himself, Yoriichi, relieved, drew the spotlight onto Michikatsu, stepping back to give the two space.

"I... Yeah, I am," Michikatsu said. He wondered how Yoriichi did this, constantly having to talk to random people he'd never met before but seemed to know way too much about him. Or just having to talk to people in general. "Uh... How do you know me?"

Muzan laughed. "You're the brother of Mr. Famous here, how would I not know you?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, well, nobody bothers to learn my name," Michikatsu said scornfully. He sounded childish. Oh, whatever.

"Why not?" Muzan asked, frowning.

Yoriichi let out a breath.

"Yoriichi, here, is always the center of attention," Michikatsu said, trying to sound lighthearted. "People love him best."

"I'd prefer if they didn't, though," Yoriichi interjected, sounding guilty. "I dislike it."

Michikatsu lifted a shoulder. "Guess we're born to get everything we don't want."

"I get that," Muzan said, nodding. "Uta—my girlfriend—is always being pushed aside when people recognize me in public."

Girlfriend? And, for seemingly no reason, Michikatsu felt a momentary frown curve his lips down—before catching himself and plastering on a smile. "Well, welcome to the club to her, then..."

Muzan shook his head. "It's got to be very annoying, hasn't it? Personally, I like being in attention," he admitted, a grin growing on his face, before falling. "But it's hard for Uta, which makes it hard for our relationship in general."

"Ah. Maybe we should meet sometime. You and Yoriichi can walk down a red carpet and Uta and I could be your shadows..." Michikatsu offered. What kind of person was Uta? If she experienced something similar to himself, would Muzan perhaps be interested in Michikatsu in the future...?

Yoriichi shook his head. "I'd rather be the shadow."

"Well, you don't always get what you want," Michikatsu said, a bitter laugh growing on his tongue.

Muzan sighed. "Sorry."

"What?" both of the Tsugikuni's asked, turning back to him.

"I'm the only one content with my position-ish," Muzan said, shrugging. "I feel bad."

"What, did you cause all of this?" Michikatsu asked, raising an eyebrow.

"...yep. I... cast a magic spell on you before you were born to get exactly what you don't want," Muzan said, raising his hands and wiggling his fingers in what was probably supposed to look like a sinister move—but looked ridiculous.

Yoriichi rolled his eyes.

"You look younger than us," Michikatsu said, lips quirking in a smile.

"...I am. But that doesn't matter," Muzan said, frowning.

"Whatever you say."

×××

They ended up meeting Uta only a couple days later. Muzan had visited again with his parents and had brought her along. Yoriichi and Uta seemed to get along quickly—though their personalities seemed like polar opposites. Uta was like a ball of sunshine, very enthusiastic and Michikatsu wondered why she was neglected by the public. But, then again, Michikatsu had always been the social one.

"Uta seems nice," Michikatsu remarked, as he and Muzan wandered over to a different room.

"Yep! She's very sweet," Muzan said. Then paused, looking uncomfortable. "Oh, but there's something else..."

Michikatsu tilted his head in his direction. "Hm?"

"Okay, uhm." Muzan looked behind him and, once comfirming that nobody was there, turned back. "Don't tell her, okay?"

Michikatsu raised an eyebrow. "Tell her what?"

"I'm getting to that! Right, so, uhm... Yeah, I care for her a lot and everything... but..." Muzan hesitated.

"Go on. I won't say anything," Michikatsu assured him.

"Uh... I... I think I'm gay," Muzan blurted out.

Michikatsu blinked. "What-"

"I don't know, or maybe I'm just bi or whatever. But, like, either I'm just losing feelings for her or I'm realizing I'm not into women because... because there's this other guy who I think I like and, well, yeah. I don't know how to tell her since I really do care about her a lot but, I just... Don't know," Muzan said, defeated.

Michikatsu patted him awkwardly. "You should probably just talk to her about it."

"I know..." Muzan whined. "I don't know how!"

"Don't know how to what?"

Muzan and Michikatsu turned to see Uta and Yoriichi walking towards them.

"Ehm..." Muzan hesitated and glanced at Michikatsu who gave him an encouraging look.

Uta stopped, giving him a curious smile. "Hm?"

"I... uh... Nevermind. I'll tell you later," Muzan said quickly, plastering on a smile.

Uta nodded. "Alright! I have to go now, also." She waved her phone on the air. "My mother texted me."

"Ohhh, 'kay, 'kay," Muzan agreed. "See you later?"

"Mhm! I'll text you," Uta said with a smile. She turned to Yoriichi. "It was nice meeting you too!"

Yoriichi nodded. "It was."

Uta waved to Michikatsu then bounded towards the stairs on her way out.

Muzan and Michikatsu turned to Yoriichi who was watching Uta go.

"Do... you like her?" Muzan asked, a sly grin growing on his face.

Yoriichi snapped his head towards him, eyes wide. "What? No! Isn't she your girlfriend, anyways?"

Muzan rubbed the back of his head. "Yeah..."

Yoriichi frowned. "Is there something you have to say?"

Muzan lifted a shoulder. "Kinda? I may or may not be losing feelings for her."

Yoriichi raised an eyebrow. "She seems very likeable, though..."

"So you do like her?" Muzan asked, pointing at him.

"Wha- No!" he protested.

Michikatsu watched them, his own thoughts mulling. So... if Muzan liked this other 'guy', that meant he liked a man, which meant Michikatsu had even more of a chance. Although he wasn't quite sure why it mattered.

×××

Muzan and Uta started visiting more throughout the following month, on their own time. Michikatsu and Yoriichi occasionally visiting Muzan's house as well. They never went out in public, of course, but it was still very fun. They usually refrained from visiting people or having others visit since usually it turned into a fiasco. But it was fun, now.

Uta and Yoriichi were spending more time together whilst Muzan and Michikatsu were usually elsewhere, and Muzan still hadn't managed to break the news to Uta.

However, finally, Michikatsu persuaded him to tell her, saying it would only worsen their relationship if it continued on.

Muzan finally caved and agreed. So now Michikatsu and Yoriichi were spying on the two as Muzan drew up the courage to tell her.

Uta sat on Muzan's bed, organizing his things since he was, in fact, the messiest person to exist. Muzan entered, his nervousness clear on his face. He sat down beside her and she looked up with a smile.

"Hi!" she said, closing one of the drawers she'd been placing things in.

"Hey... Uhhh, Uta, can I talk to you?" he asked, eyes darting to and fro.

"Of course. What's wrong?" she said, placing her hands on her lap.

"So... I... want to..." He paused. "Break up?"

She blinked. "What?"

"Sorry. I still care about you a lot, but I think I might be into men. I don't know for sure if it's only, but I don't see myself liking you the way I used to, I guess," Muzan said, talking quickly.

"Oh!" She frowned. "Am I doing something wrong?"

He shook his head frantically. "No, no, you're doing amazingly! I just don't like you... romantically anymore, I'm sorry. It's not your fault."

"Oh. Okay," she said, nodding slowly.

"You're... fine with it?" he asked.

She nodded again. "Its your own choice and your emotions. It's fine."

He smiled. "Thanks. This is why you're the best."

She laughed. "I wouldn't say I'm the best. Will you tell me how you figured this out, though?"

Muzan coughed. "There's... this person I like. A boy. Uhm..."

Uta's eyes lit up, seemingly forgetting the previous conversation. "Tell me about him. Do I know him?"

Muzan nodded. "Yeah."

"What's his name?" she asked.

"I'm... not telling you that," Muzan said, glancing towards where Michikatsu and Yoriichi were hiding.

Uta raised an eyebrow, leaning closer. "Tell me!"

"...Later," he said.

"Promise?"

"...yeah."

×××

"Yoriichi, you like Uta, right?" Muzan asked, leaning against the door frame. Uta had left and hour ago and Michikatsu and Yoriichi were about to go, having been called home by their parents.

Yoriichi shied away, averting his eyes.

"Just tell her!" Muzan said encouragingly. "...but maybe after she tells you more formally that she and I broke up. Because she doesn't know you were stalking us."

"I wasn't stalking. And Michikatsu was too..." Yoriichi mumbled.

Muzan laughed. "Just do it, okay?"

Yoriichi nodded slowly. "Eventually."

"I didn't know you could be so shy," Michikatsu said pointedly as he and Yoriichi slipped into the backseat of the car quickly, tugging off the masks they had worn to avoid recognition.

"Shut up," Yoriichi huffed, looking away. He paused and looked back. "Don't you like Muzan?"

Michikatsu rolled his eyes, feeling his face heat up. "I do not!"

"Mhm. I've seen how you look at him," Yoriichi said, his own sort of smugness forming on his face as he gained the upperhand.

"Uhm. I look at him normally!" Michikatsu protested, though he was sure his cheeks betrayed him.

Yoriichi nodded—though in the most mocking manner. "Yes, very normally. Intensely, too, I may add."

Michikatsu spluttered for a response then opted to cross his arms, looking out the one-sided window as the streets rolled by.

Did he like Muzan? Probably. Yes, he did. But the thing was, Muzan was probably not into him. He already had his eyes set on someone, he'd said. So... it was time to throw away any wishful thinking and put himself straight.

×××

...It didn't work.

Despite trying to think of anything else, putting his focus into whatever the hell his parents expected of him, literally doing the most random things ever, his mind would wander back to Muzan. It seemed sudden but, maybe, it was just some self-awareness that brought him to realize how much he'd actually been thinking about Muzan.

But then, it didn't matter if he did or didn't like Muzan. There wasn't that high of a chance for Muzan to like him, and he'd just broken up with Uta, so...

And yet.

(rushing this bc i'm lazy LMFAO)

Muzan texted him one day, asking if he wanted to come over. Obviously, Michikatsu said yes. Yoriichi was focused on something or other and was unable to come, so he arrived at the house alone.

Muzan let him in, guiding him to the room, talking about the most random things. They sat down—Muzan on his bed, Michikatsu on a chair.

"Why'd you invite me over?" Michikatsu asked at one point, when the conversation paused.

Muzan lifted a shoulder. "Just... bored? I guess?" he said. It was plausible. It just didn't sound genuine.

"Ooookay," Michikatsu said slowly, drawing out the word. "Are you doing anything this week?" he asked.

Muzan thought for a moment. "Yeah. I think I'm busy."

"You think?"

"I didn't look over the schedule," he said, a quick smirk flitting over his face. "They gave it to me and I only saw there was a lot written. I just tossed it aside... somewhere."

Michikatsu raised an eyebrow. "For someone who likes the fame, you're very bad at keeping it."

"Hey, people still love me, no?" Muzan said, flashing him a grin and leaning back against a mountain of pillows.

Michikatsu laughed. "Sure."

"Anyways... Speaking of love," Muzan said, averting his eyes.

So this was what Muzan had asked him over for. "Yes?"

"The... You know the boy I liked?" Muzan asked, still no meeting his eyes.

Michikatsu nodded—then realized Muzan couldn't see that. "Yes, I do. Liked? Did you stop liking him?"

"No, no," Muzan said, looking up quickly and shaking his head. "I still like him."

"Ah. Who is it?"

Muzan frowned. "About that."

"Hm?"

"It's you."

Michikatsu took a moment to process the words, staring blankly at Muzan. "...Huh?"

"It's you," Muzan repeated patiently, a slow blush rising in his cheeks. "I like you."

"...What?" Michikatsu had, in fact, still not comprehended what he was hearing.

"I like you, okay? I know it's weird and everything, especially since we haven't even known each other for over a year or whatever, I don't know, I'm sorry," Muzan ranted, stumbling over his words.

"I... I-" Michikatsu was at loss of what to say, his head spinning. What??

Muzan groaned, grabbing a pillow and stuffing his face in it, screaming through gritted teeth. "Fuuck... Sorry, sorry, forget it all. Forget what I said," he mumbled, his words muffled by the pillow. "Sorry. I don't want to make it weird for you. Pretend I never said anything."

Michikatsu shook his head—realizing not for the first time that Muzan couldn't see him—and said, quietly, "It's not that. I don't... not like you? It's not that I don't like you, I like you, I don't not like you, I didn't know you liked me, I thought you didn't like me, I didn't know you didn't not like me." Then blinked, realizing he wasn't making sense.

Muzan had looked up. "Could you repeat that...?" he asked, after Michikatsu was done with his rant of nonsense.

"I... Sorry. Yes," Michikatsu said, letting out a breath.

"You don't have to say sorry," Muzan said.

"...You just said it more times than I did," he pointed it.

"Okay, true, sorry, go on."

Michikatsu raised an eyebrow but said nothing of it. "I meant that my silence wasn't because I dislike you or anything. I do like you... the same way? I think? Assuming you like me romantically... I didn't say anything before because you were dating Uta, and then you weren't really giving signs that you liked me, so..."

Muzan nodded slowly. "So you like me back?—ALSO I DID GIVE SIGNS."

"You did not. And yes, I do," Michikatsu said with a quick nod, turning his head away, heat flickering in his face.

"Then... can we date?" Muzan asked, so suddenly Michikatsu jolted.

"Wha- I- ...yes," Michikatsu said, his face turning beet red.

Muzan laughed. "What's with all this blushing??"

"I'm... not!"

"You are."

"Your question was just random," Michikatsu murmured.

"It wasn't at all. Can I kiss you?" Muzan asked, grinning as Michikatsu turned an impossibly darker shade of red. "Your head is going to burst if you keep blushing."

"I'm... not blushing...!" Michikatsu insisted, though even the stupidest person could tell him he was.

"Sure, but are you going to answer me?" Muzan said, changing the subject.

"...Okay."

"Okay you'll answer or okay I can kiss you?" he asked, putting the pillow aside and standing up.

"...both?" Michikatsu said tentatively, hands fiddling on his lap.

Muzan smiled and promptly plopped onto the desk, a finger curling under Michikatsu's chin, tilting his head up.

"I don't... like this position," Michikatsu mumbled, frowning slightly.

Muzan quirked an eyebrow. "No? You're still redder than a ripe tomato."

"...shut up."

"Make me," Muzan challenged, eyes glinting with mischief.

Michikatsu was hit with a sudden burst of confidence from who knows where; perhaps he had stolen it from Muzan. Nevertheless, he stood, coming a bit higher than Muzan despite the fact that he was sitting on the desk. He cupped Muzan's head in his hands, pulling him forward slightly. There was a sliver of space between their lips and Michikatsu waited, wondering if this was too much. Then Muzan leaned forward slightly and all was forgotten, his eyes fluttering close as their mouths fit together, the plush of Muzan's lips against his own.

The kiss was brief but sweet and when they pulled apart, they looked away simutaneously, a shy blush powdering their cheeks.

Then the door burst open and they scrambled back; Muzan pressed against the wall behind his desk, Michikatsu nearly tripping over the chair.

Uta barged in, a bag in her hand, arms raised up and a triumphant smile on her face. She took one look at them and quickly left, shutting the door behind her.

Muzan and Michikatsu blinked, then turned to stare at each other. There was a beat of silence before both burst into an awkward, nervous laugh as Michikatsu straightened himself up, fixing the chair.

"So..." Muzan said casually, hopping down from the desk.

Michikatsu tilted his head, looking down at him. "Hm?"

"You're my boyfriend now."

"And you're mine," Michikatsu agreed with a faint smile.

"Great. I'm going to go brag to Uta now, considering that she's here already," Muzan said.

"No, don't-" Michikatsu whined, but Muzan was already striding out the door, deaf to his protests.

×××

« Word count: 2953 »

pretend this is good 💀

11 notes · View notes

dirtbra1n · 11 months

Note

well since you obviously said it isn't a trap! what are your thoughts on hirano and sasaki :)

so it was a trap in the end. surprise! it’s just that it was supposed to be like a pit trap and it still is one just stupid deep. I’ve been in this pit for so long. sorry for leaving you waiting. it’s been ruminating for this long now and my thoughts aren’t organized to begin with so we Might as well just get on with it

tldr Tfw you and your best friend are queer at the same time and are sort of constantly orbiting around one another about it in weird liminal space where you’re simultaneously telling each other everything but never saying something

so I don’t know if you’ve gotten the chance to read the sasamiya first years novel yet highly recommend it Sound of the summer. but there was. like. an unprecedented amount of stuff in there that gutted me. like the last chapter. here’s the chapter image by the way

psychological warfare on me specifically. just Look I’ll bold the highlights:

He wants to pull himself up, I thought. He just hasn’t found anything to give him that push.

Not that it was any business of mine.

“Sun’s pretty high in the sky by now. There shouldn’t be any direct sunlight on your desk this time of day,” I said. “You came all the way to school. As long as you have the chance to make the effort, why not make it?”

With that encouragement, Sasaki got to his feet, swaying slightly. As I watched him brush the dust off his uniform, I decided to suggest to the Disciplinary Committee that we should make sure this area got swept periodically. We wouldn’t want any part of the school, even one off-limits to students, to look grimy.

“Mmm… Well, I guess I could handle one worksheet. If you’ll help me, Hirano.” The way he still seemed completely harmless was almost funny.

“Yeah, I’ll help you. If you really have it with you. If you don’t, then go talk to the teacher and get another copy before lunch is over.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

I almost cracked a smile at the sense of friendliness he exuded. “You should only say ‘yeah’ once. Break’s over in five minutes, you know. You could stand to look like you’re sweating it a little.”

This time, Sasaki drew it out into a single “yeeeah.” He started down the stairs, and I fell into step beside him. “Hey, give me your phone number,” I said softly, rushing it out.

“You?” he said, apparently not expecting that at all.

I was surprised to discover I felt a rush of embarrassment. I kept my eyes determinedly forward. “It’s a pain in the ass not being able to get ahold of you.” It felt funny, looking after a guy my own age like this, but I couldn’t stop myself. I figured getting Sasaki’s contact info now would make it easier if I needed something with him in the future.

Sasaki Shuumei.

My first impression was that he did things by the seat of his pants. My second—that he was a lot of trouble.

for my own peace of mind. will largely copy-paste what I’ve already said

like. how else do I say that this feels like. pre-romance. you’d think it’s WEIRD for these two. but there’s still that feeling. that hirano feels drawn to look after sasaki in like EXACTLY the same way he felt drawn to look after kagi. the like. “Hey, give me your phone number,” I said softly, rushing it out. sasaki sweeping dust off himself and hirano getting the idea to suggest the disciplinary committee sweep EVERYWHERE. with that underlying feeling of I don’t want you to get dirty. seeing where sasaki is, not wanting to move forward, and wanting (quietly, subconsciously) to help him with it. Maybe we were supposed to be having this conversation.

like what’s WITH that. why does it FEEL LIKE THAT

like part of it totally is the whole I have feelings for you I have feelings for you too (the feeling they’re both feeling is friendship) but it’s ALSO. ITS SOMETHING ELSE TOO. and it’s SO interesting to bite into because this novel like. very suddenly threw at us this different angle at which to view the relationships we’re already familiar with. and without even knowing it hirano and sasaki’s friendship—which was ALREADY liable to tear me asunder—was actually EVEN MORE LOADED with things to blow my dick clean off No don’t leave that in.

like we knew already that hirano’s this diligent kind of guy, but he gets this task that he feels is absolutely not his fucking job (tell sasaki to turn in a worksheet) and then he, like. gets pissy about it Yeah but also takes it exactly as seriously as you’d EXPECT him to. he complains about not feeling full at lunch even on a regular gym day, but he ate fast to have more time. to look for sasaki. he looked in every typical playing-hooky kind of space in the school, physically moving up the school, floor by floor, as he searched. and then he’s out of places. except for the school roof, which is locked, but he gets suspicious and goes to check anyway.

Ogasawara said Sasaki hates the heat. From that perspective, the stairway looked like a cozy hole in the ground.

I pushed aside the whiteboard proclaiming that the roof was for “authorized personnel only” and took a hesitant step onto the stairs. I worked my way up to the landing, doing my damnedest not to make a sound. I turned and saw someone.

“There you are!” I sighed.

Sasaki was at the uppermost part of the staircase. The door to the roof was indeed locked, and the only window that let any light in was far away. Sasaki was sitting in a shadowy spot, leaning against the cool wall, listening to music.

“Oh,” he said, his eyes drifting open. His ya-caught-me expression seemed out of place on the dusty staircase. It was the disinterested reaction of a guy who just didn’t care about school.

“The hell are you doing here?” I said. Had he really been sitting there all day? Didn’t his butt get sore?

Sasaki slid off his headphones and gave me a questioning look. “Er, Hirano, right? Whatcha need?”

He remembers my name? That surprised me. Maybe my golden hair gave it away.

“What do I need? To tell you that you have to turn in a worksheet for Modern Literature today. You’re the only one who hasn’t.”

Only then did it occur to me that it would have been far more efficient just to have Ogasawara send him a text. I’d been asked to tell him to turn in the worksheet, but I wasn’t ordered to collect it from him. Still, it was true that I was concerned about his “flying by the seat of his pants” approach to life. Maybe we were supposed to be having this conversation.

and really when you read the entire chapter with this understanding of its Weirdness you’ll notice all these various ways hirano has noticed things about sasaki (“No wonder he always seemed to be eating bread at lunch.”) and it’s just like. Where do we go from here.

and then you look at early hirakagi and sasaki’s subtitle is “The Classmate” and it’s BEWILDERINGLY FUNNY

like this is hysterical to me. you share this strangely intimate moment with this guy you feel drawn to look after despite everything and then after that he’s not even your friend yet.

we see what the beginning of their friendship looks like, we see how invested hirano is in sasaki’s just. everything! we see how much he sees sasaki (apathetic, placid, a couple steps from delinquency, though he’s not moving towards it) and we see how much he WANTS sasaki to get past it!!! and then they aren’t even friends yet. because hirano is unbeatably weird about his relationships with all people. what the hell is wrong with you hirano taiga. I love you.

AND THAT ISN’T EVEN GETTING INTO THE WAY SASAKI GETS ABOUT HIRANO.!!!!! because just. god I think the reason I was putting this off is because it makes me want to cry. We all remember this scene right

because I remember. think I could probably get whacked over the head with a fire extinguisher, get amnesia’d, and still remember this scene in blinding detail. have I said already that I’m insane. I went on this big long tangent in sunnnfish’s tags about it one time, and I’m gonna quote myself on that:

the way sasaki who even now at this point in time is generally apathetic and walled off from emotion / who is walking with a friend of his who also generally isn’t much for externalizing how he feels / sees an aspect of that friends life that he hardly sees / and thus sees an aspect of that FRIEND he hardly sees / and that aspect is. it’s so. / like i’m losing my grip on this framing / sasaki knows hirano to be kind of a hardass and stick in the mud / and all of a sudden out of nowhere hirano is like Head back without me and sasaki / who until that moment hadn’t been paying attention. had therefore been observing and feeling nothing / looks up and sees. hirano doing something so (to sasaki) UN-hiranolike / because of kagi. and sasaki has to notice that. because he and hirano are friends. and sasaki is someone who notices things

the much shorter quote that sums up my feelings on this scene just about as well is as follows: LIKE GOD. LOOK AT SASAKI’S EYES. YOU GET WHAT I MEAN / DON’T YOU?

like you. I have to collect myself this is so embarrassing I hate you sasaki shuumei….. <- lie YOU GET THESE PIECES AND START PUTTING THEM TOGETHER. that their friendship started at the top of a stairwell that was kind of like a cozy hole in the ground, and hirano saw the sasaki there that was kind of just. not in a place to care! and he reached out to him in his pissy hardass way and asked shyly for his number and agreed to help with his work and started this process that got sasaki to. HERE!!!! they weren’t friends until somehow someway sometime they were and when hirano tells sasaki to go back without him he placidly agrees until he sees what hirano is doing and he gets this look in his eyes and it’s. I think I subconsciously know to avoid talking about sasaki because I can’t ever help but get unbearably emotional.

they’re just

they’re friends. and they care about each so much and the jump from their first year first-contact fucking. rendezvous in the stairwell leading to the roof, where it’s just them two in a place where neither of them is supposed to be, where hirano still resolves to keep it clean. which could mean nothing. to their second year where you can just look at sasaki’s eyes and glean something beyond words that has permanently ruined my life. to their third year where they’re so easy and comfortable and hirano smiles easily and with affection and sasaki has grown into someone who would be a stranger to first year hirano, but not an unwelcome one. you just. you have to get it! you have to understand!

so hey. we’ve made it this far in. right? we have. so can I please just

hirano sees sasaki, wants to help him despite being the same age -> sasaki, two years later, undeniably friends with this guy who he can be deeply himself with, wants help with something, sees hirano, notices how focused in on his own work he is, probably puzzles together how worn out he’s gotta be, and resolves not to ask for it.

we’ve made it this far in together, right? so I’ll do you the favor of not drawing this comparison to kagi even though I kind of want to, both for your sake but mostly for mine. because it might kill me to put those words together and I need to wipe my eyes AGAIN I HATE YOU SASAKI SHUUMEI!!!!!!!! <- liar

but there’s this thing that is so so evident through hirakagi specifically where you see sasaki seeing something and resolving to hold onto it for hirano’s sake. sasaki sees how worn out hirano is and refuses to put more stress on him. sasaki sees hirano interacting with roommate-kun and makes up his mind to keep as many of those details from miyano as possible.

he just cares. sasaki just cares.

so now this If you thought I was being weird before. man. let me quote myself again

like. it . these two. it almost feels like sasaki is thinking about miyano just to remind you that the weirdness here is totally Not something we should be latching onto. like sasaki SHOULD know already that miyano would NOT want him hunching over. but how else would we get THIS

what is with sasaki and hirano and this FEELING.

sasaki’s own line of ellipses. I mean, it’s not like you’re short or anything. Oh. But then Roommate-kun’s taller than me, isn’t he?

WHAT IS WITH SASAKI AND HIRANO AND THIS FEELING.

@sunnnfish comments here on the liminality, “a special space where time and space feel weird. Almost like it shouldn’t exist”

a couple steps to the left

like sasaki and miyano.. they don’t really get all that many liminal moments. and hirano and kagi get their moments but they’re like. MOMENTS. but sasaki and hirano…… every one of them, it feels like, when they’re alone, just the two of them. every one of them has that liminal feeling where everything’s weird, and you’re speaking around this impossible SOMETHING in your mouth, sat on your tongue, not going anywhere, and your words come out sort of jumbled for it. your brain tunes it out, thoughts about this and that, anything else, but the busyness just serves to emphasize that space on your tongue that is being taken up by….. whatever it is. like an x-ray, what’s being seen through and what isn’t.

…

like this moment where it’s just them and liminality is inescapable, they HAVE to talk about roommate-kun and he HAS to think about miyano. they have to. just a couple steps to the left, but this isn’t that. Oh. But Roommate-kun’s taller than me, isn’t he?

I’m a rotten husk, if you couldn’t tell. going to take one more second on that FUCKING. LINE because there’s something about it to me.

S: You of all people?

H: Huh?

S: Oh, no…

S: ………

S: I mean, it’s not like you’re short or anything. Oh. But then Roommate-kun’s taller than me, isn’t he?

his demeanor, his nine point ellipses, scratching the back of his head. then he thinks about kagi and draws the comparison. I’m gonna be sick I think actually

and then sunnnfish threw a right hook re: recontextualizing hirano’s They really have gotten close… …… Well, I guess there’s nothing wrong with that.

SF: … it’s like. In our canon universe that Not shifted a little to the left Hirano watches Sasaki evolve so much. Because of Miyano. Sasaki rather suddenly became such a close friend of his who he actively wants to see get better and find purpose and he sees him find that. At least a little. Even though he’s still apathetic he has more pep in his step. And there’s something there in all of that too. Just. Watching your best friend fall in love and change. That’s like it’s own kind of fucked up. Especially considering on some level he wanted to be the one to help sasaki. But he’s also happy that sasaki seems happier. I’m getting lost in the sauce I feel

DB: NO YEAH YOURE GETTING ME THERE

so I’ll drag back the tldr. sasaki and hirano have a really queer friendship and it’s a pang through the heart if you’re at all like me. number one secret third thing of my heart, because they’re actually really mundane and their friendship is so liminal and. look when I say. okay I’m gonna say something. their friendship is kind of romantic. just not necessarily in a romantic way. okay? all right.

one last. Let me sort of quote myself one last time I promise

sasaki too this GUY…. like of course I like the sasaki sasaki is with miyano. he’s everything to me even. but I think part of this secret third thing with hirano is like. the clear shot of the sasaki that. well not everyone sees him this way, tashiro thinks he’s scary. and ogasawara is gonna have a different view of him too because they’ve known each other for a few years now. but hirano went looking for him—when he realized HIMSELF that he literally could have just had ogasawara SEND HIM A TEXT—he went looking for him and found him in that stairwell that he was NOT supposed to be in and spoke to him, like he was maybe SUPPOSED to, and he sees this clear shot of the sasaki that is so. quiet friendly lonely and kind, a little timid and reclusive and aimless but not for lack of WANTING to pull himself up. this sasaki. and hirano gets a little short with him but he also wants to help him, wants to help pull him up, or at least help him WANT to pull himself up, wants to look after him

they’re weird and they care about each other so so so so sooooo so much because they’re friends. and sometimes they’re weird about each other. which is super normal. but as much as I’m waving my hands around clarifying this and that I’m standing by my initial statement with the stairwell. that was a really romantic framing. all right? okay.

I’m giving you a ladder out of the pit trap now. thank you very much for asking you’re a real good sport for that

#so. Yeah!#finishing this hmmmm. juuust about half an hour before it’s sasaki’s birthday for me #so we’ll call it his birthday present even though he’d hate it. :)#sasaki shuumei #hirano taiga #novel writer kotoko hachijo. i would love to shake your hand someday…#last touches done. if it’s janked or unreadable or incomprehensible. lets just call that an occupational hazard. okay? all right #belatedly realizing i forgot some tags #askbox #dirtbrain digression #sasahira

41 notes · View notes

darlingshane · 2 years

Text

Greetings from Boston

Michael Berzatto x GN!Reader

Rating: T // Content/Warnings: Bars, Drinking, Eating, Swearing, Fluff, Crack, Making Out, Old Friends, Pet Names.

WC: 2,105

Summary: You haven't seen Michael in six years. One night, after moving back to Chicago, you see him in a bar and spend the night out together.

-- Read below or at AO3.

You've wondered for years how different your life would be if you and Michael had pursued your five-minute affair for longer than that. If there was anything you regretted, after moving back to Boston, it was that. You weren't in love with the other, cause you never got enough time to build up something deeper. And when the day came, it felt really easy at the time to pack, and get on with the rest of your life like nothing ever happened.

You got a job in your hometown. He stayed in Chicago, managing the restaurant he had just inherited from his parents.

You were celebrating a friend's birthday in a lounge when you went over to the bar to get more drinks and were taken aback by his handsome profile. He was talking with his, always right hand, and best friend, Richie, you recognized, and a couple of more people that you didn't know.

It had been close to six years since you last saw him during that night of passion you shared together before leaving, just to say goodbye. It was also probably one of the best nights of your life. It stayed with you clearly. And what you felt during that brief time you were with him, came back to you the moment you saw him there.

He wouldn't remember you. Would he? You thought, and hesitated whether to say something or not. You lost touch quickly after you went away. Besides a few calls and texts exchanged, and a couple of postcards sent during the first month, you both got busy with your lives, and eventually he became just a number in your contacts.

His back was turned to you. The music was loud, but his voice was louder, and it made you smile to yourself hearing it when you leaned on the edge of the bar and waved at the bartender.

Instead of tapping on his shoulder and interrupting his story, trying to see if he remembered you, when you placed the order for your drinks, you added a beer, and asked the bartender to send it his way.

It kind of an old move, you believed, but you were too chicken shit to do anything else at the moment.

You went back to your table, sat, grabbed another chocolate cupcake from the tray, and stuffed your mouth with it, waiting to see what happened…

The lovely bartender did as you told her and pointed in your direction after serving the drink. Suddenly his eyes were on you. You swallowed and nodded timidly, still unsure if he had recognized you or not.

It might have taken him a moment, but he did. He said something to Richie and walked up to your table with his new beer bottle in hand.

“Hey, Boston. Long time…” he trailed off when noticing your friends staring at him. His mouth turned into a bashful smile, pressing his teeth on his bottom lip.

You almost melted into a puddle, and barely could keep your cool, saying back, “Hey. Having a good night?”

“Just got better. I appreciate the beer,” he tilted the bottle up to his lips, and took a sip in your honor.

You simply nodded again, unable to think of anything else to say, despite the million questions you had in your head. You kept staring at him like an idiot, blinded by how attractive he was. You were the epitome of shallowness at that moment, and you couldn't deny it. Sure, you'd say his charm and shameless wit was you liked, but deep down, only you knew that the first thing that drew you to him was his rough handsome features and the sturdy, broad shape of his body.

“You guys should join us,” one of your friends said, throwing you a lifeline.

“Yeah, definitely,” you smiled at him.

He was certainly just as surprised as you were to have found the other again, but took her offer, and after joining the two parties you were both eyeing each other for a while before easing up into the conversation.

It had been a long time since you stayed up that late, and it was because of him only. This was going to hurt in the morning, and you didn't care.

After leaving the bar past 3AM, some of your friends went home. The rest of you wandered through the streets, ending up in a very crowded club, dancing the rest of the night.

He didn't dare to join you on the dance floor, even after you asked, but you could feel his eyes glued to you.

You caught up some with what you both had been up to, but none of the important questions were asked yet. So there was no way for you to know if he was single. He had no ring on his finger, but not everyone wears them. All you knew is that you suddenly were so euphoric from the music, the couple of drinks you had, and all the fun of being back here, that all you wanted to kiss him. You would have if you knew, but alas you didn't… yet.

Now, here you are, sitting on the counter of his kitchen at 7AM, after he invited you for breakfast to cure the hangover. You weren't hungover really, but you were ravenous after eating nothing since those sweet cupcakes.

You look to the side, and through the door ajar, you see Richie on the couch talking and laughing with one of your friends he clicked with.

Both of you stay in silence, hearing your friends laugh and have a good time.

Your stomach was already protesting before having your nose trespassed by the delicious smell of bacon cooking on the cast iron, now it’s furious, and it’s seriously begging to get some of it inside, pronto.

“Can I have one now?” you ask, seeing him transfer the cooked bacon strips to a clean plate.

“In a minute.”

“Michael,” you sigh, “if you don't give me some food now, I'm gonna eat your cabinets. That's how hungry I am.”

He chuckles and glances at you over his shoulder, “I’m almost done, I promise.”

You extend your hand enough to reach the fridge to see if he has at least something to drink in the meantime. You grab a bottle of juice, and when you close the door you notice something stuck to it with a magnet, you hadn't paid attention before– A postcard that says: Greetings from Boston. Mass.

It can’t be. Could it? You carefully pick it up and turn it around to see your own handwriting on it on a simple, brief message that reads: I miss you, Bear. That’s how you used to call him. Taken from his last name. It feels like you wrote that in a different lifetime. Did you have more feelings for him than you initially thought? Probably. You run in your head what happened for you to stop calling or texting. Or was it him the one who stopped? All the events lead you to decipher that it was pretty mutual. One day you just didn’t with no explanation. At least that’s what you believe, maybe he has another explanation for it.

“You kept this?” You utter and he turns to look at you.

“Yeah. Are you surprised I did?”

“A little.” You shrug, “earlier… I thought you wouldn’t recognize me.”

“C’mon. You don’t really believe that… I know we never had a real relationship, whatever that is… but you meant a lot to me.”

“So, what happened?”

“You left,” he crosses his arms, and leans on the breakfast bar.

“And after that?”

“Life happened… you had a new job, I had my own set of problems… and we both moved on.”

“You call this moving on?” you utter, showing him the postcard again.

“I mean, I tried.”

“So, there’s nobody else in your life?”

“Sweetie, you wouldn’t be here if I had anybody else. I’ve dated, sure… but,” he finishes his sentence with a shrug, getting interrupted by Richie who flies through the kitchen, grabbing a plate, and filling it with food.

“Don’t mind us. We’ll be in the room for a while, if you know what I mean… ” he grins like an asshole who is about to get laid.

“He lives with you?” you ask Michael, when Richie’s out.

“Uh-uh. He’s just staying here for a few weeks. Had a mold problem in his building.”

You swallow and ask for a glass to have some of that juice before you pass out.

“Oh, no… I’m sorry. Let’s get some food in you.”

Without moving from your spot on the counter, he hands you a plate and a glass, and you enjoy your breakfast with him, chatting some more.

“I take it you’re not seeing anybody either?” he’s the one asking now.

You shake your head, “I almost got married a year ago.”

“Shit, for real?”

“For real.”

“Did you leave him at the altar or did he?”

“Pfff, no. Luckily, it didn’t get as far as that. Found out they were cheating on me before that, and that was the end of it. Kinda… we used to work together and seeing them every day drove me nuts. I knew they weren’t going anywhere… and when I saw there was an opening in our branch here, I put in for a transfer.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“No, you’re not,” your lips pull up at the corners.

“You got me… How long have you been here?”

“A month.”

“You’re staying for good?”

“I think so…” you pause and drink some of your juice, “you wanna go out later for coffee or something?”

“Why? Do you wanna pick it out where we left off?”

“No, asshole. I just wanna hang out.”

“I gotta work, but we can hang out here… you don’t have to go right away, do you?”

You’re utterly spent, but you don’t want this day to end, not just yet, “I guess I can stay for a while.”

You smile at each other and all of a sudden you hear music being loudly played from one of the rooms.

“I’m so sorry about that,” he laughs, and moves quickly to cover your ears, “he does it every time he has sex.”

“Wow, he works quickly.”

“Is that a dig at me?” and he tilts his head to the side, displaying a fake offense at your words.

“What? Uh-uh… not at all,” his palms are still on your ears, and you grab his wrists to move them away.

Then, you find yourself weaving your fingers with his, over your lap, as his expression changes.

You can tell he wants to kiss you. And you wanna kiss him too… and after a long five seconds, It’s you who makes the move.

You draw some air and lean forwards, pressing one at the corner of his lips, and a second one in the middle. His mouth parts, inviting you to go deeper, and with ease and a lot of sweetness you lock your lips together, getting acquainted with his mouth once again. As it gradually intensifies, you break the link of your fingers, and as your arms circle his neck, he curls his around your waist.

You wish something else was playing in the background, but it doesn’t really matter, cause you’re only going to remember the way his tongue tastes and moves around your mouth.

Your legs part wider, having him pressing himself against you. The sensation makes you dizzy and feels terribly amazing. You want to capture the warmth of his naked body against you, badly, but you’re not ready for it yet.

It’s hard to think properly at this hour, but you do, and without warning– you pull back slightly from his mouth, and lean your forehead on his.

“I don’t wanna have sex…” you confess with a small voice, momentarily regretting of saying that out loud, “not yet at least. Not like this.”

“‘S okay, we don’t have to, sweetheart,” he swipes your lips with his thumb.

“I mean, I want to, but I’m just really tired right now. Do you want to?”

“I do, baby… so much,” he clears his throat, “whenever you’re ready, I’m here.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Can we lie down for a bit, though?”

He nods, promptly picks you up from the counter, and carries you to the couch.

After placing you down gently, you both kick your shoes off, and let him spoon you. He plays with your hair, whispers in your ear, lulling you slowly to fall asleep.

#michael berzatto #michael berzatto x reader #the bear #the bear fanfiction #jon bernthal #fanfiction #fluff #darlingwrites

270 notes · View notes

a-reader-and-a-writer · 2 years

Text

Worth The Wait (Part 1)

Fandom: Top Gun, Top Gun: Maverick, Jake "Hangman" Seresin, f!reader

Word Count: 3857

TW: Fluff, Kissing, Lead Up to Smut, Unwanted Flirting, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Misunderstanding, Reference to Reader's Appearance

Note: Thank you to @skvatnavle for both the(secret 😉) request and for beta reading for me!

Top Gun Masterlist

Part 1, Part 2 (Coming Soon)

You smiled as you saw him approaching and asked, “What can I getcha?” Your voice was sweet yet there was a playful edge to it that just drew him in even further.

Jake flashed you a toothy smile that usually had the ladies swooning and flustered. “How about your number?”

Jake’s face dropped immediately as he stuttered out an apology, introduced himself, then asked for a beer.

Jake scoffed. “Then why are you working at a bar specifically targeted for the airfield?”

“Because I also don’t date customers. So that just gives me two reasons to turn you down.” You placed his beer in front of him, patted his hand lightly, and walked away.

But Jake never gave up without a fight. Sometimes it just took a little persistence.