imheresohi

[imheresohi]

Wake up, hotties. There’s a new chapter of „Just like the sun“.

This one’s especially cute, in my opinion.

I’m writing a cute slowburn mha story rn

It would be very cute of you to read it :)

Relationships: Iida Tenya/Reader Summary:

“To help lost children find their way home.”

You. A big dreamer, a kid whose legs refuse to stop in the face of danger, and the best friend a young, engine-clad boy could have. You’re not all that, at least to you, you’re not. You’re a comfortably middle-class kid. Your parents work hard for what they have, and they trust you to be mature enough to handle yourself.

You. You’ll face the world, hold everyone in your arms, and tell them that it’s going to be fine, because you’ll be there for them. You’ll make sure everyone is safe, because there is no greater joy than to create joy for others, even if it may hurt yourself in the process, right?

You’ll go to UA, you’ll protect the ones you love, you’ll protect the one who’s most precious to you, and you’ll make sure that everyone has a reason to smile.

For what is a joyful world without the smiles of others?

[imheresohi]

I’m writing a cute slowburn mha story rn

It would be very cute of you to read it :)

Relationships: Iida Tenya/Reader Summary:

"To help lost children find their way home."

You. A big dreamer, a kid whose legs refuse to stop in the face of danger, and the best friend a young, engine-clad boy could have. You're not all that, at least to you, you're not. You're a comfortably middle-class kid. Your parents work hard for what they have, and they trust you to be mature enough to handle yourself.

You. You'll face the world, hold everyone in your arms, and tell them that it's going to be fine, because you'll be there for them. You'll make sure everyone is safe, because there is no greater joy than to create joy for others, even if it may hurt yourself in the process, right?

You'll go to UA, you'll protect the ones you love, you'll protect the one who's most precious to you, and you'll make sure that everyone has a reason to smile.

For what is a joyful world without the smiles of others?

[imheresohi]

Looks like someone was watching Sherlock instead of writing…(I don’t blame you at all, I watched and rewatched that show an unhealthy amount of times.)

Btw, I love this series and am so happy so see a new chapter. As for the schedule, I used to have so many unfinished stories that I just deleted at some point, because I knew I would never finish them, your dedication is way better than mine 🫡

not him - 3

summary: you meet steven for tea...

pairing: marc spector? x reader, steven grant? x reader

tags: angst, feelings, confusion, miscommunication, tension, cliffhanger, all the good things we hate, an incredible use of italics and em dashes, no marc :(

wc: 2.4k

note: hey...it's been (checks the blog) a year and a few months...hi...

ch. 1 | ch. 2

[an extended author's note is at the end of the chapter to avoid spoilers!]

---

Your POV

Warmth seeps into the pads of your fingertips as you clutch the paper coffee cup in front of you. You initially ordered a medium iced coffee, but when your name was called you were presented with a hot cup of something else. 

You took it without complaint, eyes briefly glancing along the long line by the register before returning to the misspelled name scribbled onto the side of the cup. You’re sure the baristas are overworked, so as long as it’s caffeinated and palatable, you’ll be fine.

Some may call you spineless because of this, but you like to think you’re just…easygoing, flexible – able to adapt to unexpected changes without too much fuss. But now, with those soft brown eyes staring back at you from across the table, you realize that change is harder to face than you initially thought.

Steven has his usual Earl Grey steaming in a lidless cup next to a pile of tea-blotted napkins. He already found a way to spill his drink on the table before taking a single sip. He mumbled a censored curse, quickly using three folded napkins to soak up the herbal puddle before it could drip to the floor. 

You couldn’t help but watch silently as he cleaned up the mess, his dark brows furrowing as he evaluated the table that separated the two of you. His eyes flashed with a brief spark of harshness directed at the empty space before him, masking over his usual gentle look. You could see the flood of self-reproaching thoughts that rushed through his mind as he pushed the soggy mess to the side. The short bout of frustration painted on his face immediately reminded you of Marc –

And suddenly you're reintroduced to the issue at hand.

Other than the portion of tea on the napkins, Steven’s drink is full, sitting there untouched as he looks back at you like he’s waiting for you to start the conversation. As if he wasn’t the one who invited you out. You’re used to him babbling through the silence, even if the conversation holds no substance.

You fiddle with the cafe’s logo sticker on your cup, peeling it off halfway before pressing it back, an attempt to distract you from looking back up at him. You can feel his stare backing you into a corner. 

Thoughts rush through your mind as an unfamiliar tension surrounds the two of you. 

He doesn’t know, right? 

No, he can’t.

Marc was fronting last night and Steven went to bed early. It’s not like he’d tell him anyway. 

Why would he?

– 

Steven’s POV

“Good day at work?” Your voice comes out softer than he’s used to, hesitant…testing – as if you haven’t heard yourself speak since you left his flat. 

“Work?” Steven takes a sip of his drink — not because he’s thirsty, but to buy himself some time to come up with an excuse for why he missed work today.  He winces slightly from the heat of the tea. He can’t lie to you, but he can try to soften the truth. “Right, I-um…” And the truth was: Marc decided to use one of his rare vacation days to mope around because of what happened the previous night. “...slept through my alarm again today.” 

You finally look up from your cup and meet his stare, eyes rounded with concern. “Steven.” He scratches the back of his neck, feeling guilty for lying to you, but you interpret his sheepish expression as a response to your usual soft scolding about him missing work. “Donna is not going to be happy. You’ve already missed a handful of shifts this month!” Donna, his manager, has always been hard on him – no matter how many extra shifts he picks up or how late he stays, it’s never good enough for her. 

Steven hides his small relieved smile as he watches you fuss over him, murmuring about different ways he could get a better night's rest or the various alarm clocks that you’ve read about. It’s only now that he notices the warm feeling he gets when you worry about him. 

“It’s okay, I just called in sick last minute.” This time he isn’t lying, he did call in once he got the body back, but Donna wasn’t happy to hear about it. But really, when is she ever happy to hear from him?

“This is coming out of your paycheck, Stevie.”

Oh, how he hates that nickname…

But he doesn’t want to think about that now, he’ll deal with the consequences of Marc’s actions later. 

Right now, he wants to deal with…the consequences of Marc’s other actions.

You reach across the table and take his free hand, a comforting gesture you’ve often used in the past to capture his attention whenever you sense his mind is racing with hundreds of thoughts. 

“Alright, but if you want, I could call you in the morning to wake you up? I’m already up at that time anyway.” 

Steven almost flinches when you wrap your fingers around his. He can’t help but stare down at your touch. Your hand is so soft, and warm, his eyes flit to your face, just like your li– 

Wait, what is he thinking? That wasn’t even him! 

You’ve done this countless times before, so why does this feel different all of a sudden?

—

Your POV

You watch curiously as his gaze grows distant, “Steven?” You softly squeeze his hands to wake him up from his thoughts.

“Um, call – alarm?” Steven pulls his hand from yours and fiddles with the collar of his shirt which suddenly feels quite tight against his neck. “No, it’s fine, I just think Marc had a lot to drink last night, that’s all.”

Your eyes widen. Right.

You pull your hands back from where they'd settled on the table, abandoned by Steven’s touch, and rest them in your lap. Fidgeting nervously, you shift your focus to the neglected napkins at the edge of the table next to Steven, eager to avoid his gaze as his alter is suddenly brought up.

“Well…you should tell him to not drink so much when you have work in the morning…”

You can tell that Steven noticed how you retracted from the conversation as soon as you heard Marc’s name, but he doesn’t bring attention to it. He just chuckles nervously in response. 

“I’ll try…” 

The two of you remain silent for a moment. The comforting energy that was once fuelled by your friendship feels distant now, overshadowed by the tense anticipation of the inevitable confrontation. 

He takes a breath before breaking the silence, “Love…I have a question.”

“Okay.” You bite at your bottom lip nervously. 

Here it comes.

“Are we still up for movie night this week?” A weak smile cracks from the seam of his lips as his eyes find yours again. 

…Or not

You immediately cover up whatever anxious energy you are sure you were overflowing with – putting on your usual smile, the one made just for him. The one that always makes him feel at ease. 

“O-of course, Steven. I wouldn’t miss it.”

“Oh, okay, good.” 

–

After confirming your plans, Steven went on to ramble about the movies and shows he wants to watch with you.

Of course, he’s already seen each one at least two or three times, but he enjoys watching them with you – seeing your reactions, answering your questions, telling you fun facts… 

You can’t keep up with the conversation.

Your mind is running in circles, anxious about returning to the crime scene and possibly seeing him again. You’re not ready for that confrontation yet. 

You left the cafe feeling worse than when you arrived. 

How are you supposed to keep going on like everything is okay? 

Like your world hasn’t been turned upside down?

—

The warmth of Steven’s flat is comforting. You swear it was designed to be homey – which is why you never understood why Marc always looked so tense in here. The low hum of the kettle on the stove, the faint smell of old books and tea—it’s familiar. Safe. 

But not tonight.

You’re curled up on his worn couch, clutching a fluffy blanket tighter than necessary, trying to focus on the show playing in front of you. You can barely register the actors on screen. Your pulse thrums loudly in your ears, drowning out every word of dialogue.

Steven ended up choosing Sherlock because “each episode is 90 minutes – basically the length of a movie – so we’ll have at least a month of movie nights figured out!” You can tell he has a big fat man-crush on Cumberbatch’s Sherlock…just look at the way his eyes sparkle brightly when Holmes starts deducing – but you don’t say anything. You’re too anxious to tease him tonight. 

Steven sits beside you, a careful amount of space between you. He’s been quiet, unusually so, eyes flickering between you and the TV. You can feel it every time his gaze lingers—soft, curious, hesitant.

Sure, you’re used to this back and forth habit he has when you come over, but usually he’d be chiming in throughout the movie or show with a “you see that?” or “did you know that [insert actor here] was actually [insert fun fact here] during filming?” 

Tonight he’s barely made a peep. 

It’s freaking you out. 

And then, halfway through the episode, you feel it.

The slight shift of the cushions – Steven trying to scoot closer. 

Not boldly, just inching forward like someone dipping a toe into cold water. Your breath catches in your throat. His knee barely grazes yours, and it feels like a shockwave ripples through you.

Again, you’re used to his cuddly side. You’re supposed to be used to it. 

Used to the way he’d lean against you, his head on your shoulder as you both read books in comforting silence. Used to the way he’d intertwine his fingers with yours during tense scenes in a movie, squeezing when the sound effects get too loud – though he’s seen the same scene a handful of times already and should know what to expect (he’s still a scaredy cat). Used to the way he’d let out those soft breaths when he’d fall asleep with his head in your lap, your fingers running through his perfectly messy hair. 

You were. 

But since his confession about Layla, it’s different. Since what happened between you and Marc, it’s different. 

You could hear an intake of breath, signaling that he wants to say something, but before he can get it out, the kettle whistles loudly. He gets up, a bit rattled by the sudden interruption, and tends to the tea. He doesn’t even pause the episode. He always pauses when he has to get up. 

Clearly, neither of you are focused on the show tonight

He comes back with two steaming cups – chamomile because “having caffeine after the sun goes down disrupts your circadian rhythm” – and he sets them on the coffee table in front of you. You’re surprised he can even find enough space for them because the table is usually – 

It’s clear… 

You didn’t even notice how uncluttered his flat is. 

You take a second to look around. There are still overflowing bookcases, excessive amounts of cuddly blankets and pillows, and a couple of mugs out, but otherwise, it’s neat. And that can only mean one thing: Marc is stressed out. 

The one time you’ve seen Marc during the day, by accident and before you really knew him, he’d been grumpily cleaning the flat. 

You could tell that something more was happening behind the scenes, something other than frustration towards his alter for attempting to read 5 books at once, then falling asleep at his desk before being able to put them away. He was antsy, muttering to himself as he meticulously organized the bookshelves by author and subject. 

You assumed it had something to do with his strained relationship with Khonshu, but you didn’t ask. Steven had warned you against mentioning anything Khonshu-related in front of his alter in the past and you heeded to it. Instead, you left the bag of takeout on the kitchen counter and quietly slipped out.

Unfortunately, you’re aware of what’s stressing him out this time. 

“Do you like the show so far?” 

You’re immediately pulled from your thoughts. Steven is back in his seat with his hands cradling his mug for warmth. He’s noticeably further away from you than before. 

“Yeah, I actually can’t believe I haven’t seen it yet.” Your voice is soft as you lean forward for your drink. You take a sip.

You must have been lost in your thoughts for a while as the tea had cooled enough for you to easily drink it. You look down at the tea bag sitting at the bottom of the cup, unsure what to say next. 

You hear Steven sigh before the TV is shut off. Whatever Sherlock was monologuing about is cut off, replaced with the quiet buzzing of the A/C. You look up to be met with an equally hesitant gaze. 

He situates himself on the couch so he’s facing you more directly.

“Steven…?”

“Are you okay?” He finally says, “Because you’ve been distracted all night – Haven’t even said anything about the show, or asked for snacks, or sit in the way you usually do when you use me like a footrest…”

“Um, no, I’m fine.” You dismiss his worries and place your mug back on the table, hoping he’d just drop the subject. “I’m just tired, you know? Had a long day at work is all.” 

“I know that’s not it.”

You turn away from him just to stare at the blank TV, “Yeah? And how would you know?” Your words sound harsh but your voice is soft and unstable. “Aren’t you too busy worrying about Layla?” You regret saying it as soon as it leaves your mouth. You don’t know what drove you to say it, but something about him trying to care is frustrating you. 

“W-what, this has nothing to do with her.” He places a hand on your shoulder to get you to look at him. It works. You hate how the warmth from his hand can instantly calm you and have you itching for his touch. “Look,” He looks at you with guilty eyes before letting it all out, “I know that you and Marc kissed.” 

The warmth between you instantly disappears.

You freeze. 

Your mind races with excuses, stupid ones, and straight lies, but they’re all stuck in your throat – you can’t say anything. 

Steven continues to speak, “I just can’t help but wonder…” He pauses briefly and you watch him roll the words through his mind before taking your hands in his. He squeezes them like he does when he’s watching a thriller movie and it gets too intense – “...were you thinking of me when it happened?”

If you were shocked before, now you’re floored. 

---

author's note:

like I said with the last chapter, i'll have a chapter half written out and left in my google drive until I finally, painstakingly, finish it. 😭

i really want to write a lot and have it out for you guys immediately, but i'm simply not a writer so i can't do that. i don't ever have a plan for these chapters or the story as a whole so if it's messy just know: it's all me, baby :)

i genuinely could NOT write out the confrontation -- but how did you like the twist? or should i say the AUDACITY of steven 😼 (if you hate it, i am sorry 🙏 truly). the reason why i wrote out all of this was so you could get an idea of the dynamics around steven and the reader. i wanted to make some hints at your past friendship and how this situation has ruined it. i know this story is slow asf (and not just bc of my inconsistent posting) but i swear i want to see where it goes just as much as you guys do. unfortunately, i'm in charge of figuring it out.

sorry again for the delayed chapter. 👋 see you in a year i guess...

[imheresohi]

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