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seventeenlovesthree · 2 years

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@creepysora You know what’s great? Rambles about Jyou having great bonds with all the other Chosen Children. Mild spoilers ahead though.

Taichi & Jyou: Taichi needed some time to gain respect for Jyou and Jyou did not like his brash, irresponsible attitude at first, but they did gain a lot of respect and admiration for each other through the course of 01, with Jyou being the first one to actually call Taichi their “leader” and affirming his trust in him. Funnily enough, it is quite a missed opportunity that we never saw them bonding over "Adult life fucking sucks" in terms of how exhausted they are especially at the time of Kizuna (yet at least we saw Gomamon and Agumon spending time in the short, so them actually being somewhat close as adults is not THAT unlikely). I also liked that Taichi was the one who defended Jyou for choosing his responsibilities in Tri over their duties as Chosen Children, because it shows that he does understand where Jyou is coming from after all and that he strongly relates to him as well.

Yamato & Jyou: Yamato was in the same boat as Taichi, thus needed to gain respect for Jyou as well, but once he saw how selfless and brave Jyou could be for his, his brother's sake and in general, his own admiration for him grew as well - not to forget that Jyou was the reason Yamato’s Crest of Friendship activated for the first time! And Jyou actually (novel) canonically thought of Yamato as being his first real “friend”, whom he admired for looking for his own path, while he was still struggling with his sense of “choosing his fate”. So that is the perfect bonding opportunity for them and I will never get over how they flipped that around in the stageplay, making them talk about the difference in “being chosen” and “making choices”, with Jyou being the one who encouraged Yamato to speak his mind. (Also both of them being brothers who struggle with their roles in their respective families should have been explored a LOT more).

Sora & Jyou: Sora and him are literally "Team mom and dad", both feeling way too responsible for taking care of others, and even if Sora had her doubts about his leading capabilities at first, she at least encouraged him and treated him nicely from the start. Eventually, he became the confident rock that she needed herself as well to make her see that she was capable of and allowed to make choices - it's SUCH a wasted opportunity that we never had THOSE two talk about their future fears together, especially since both of them had to face so much pressure (either self imposed or by their families).

Koushirou & Jyou: With Koushirou and him it absolutely depends on what “part” of canon you want to look at, because I actually liked that OG!Jyou never made a deal out of Koushirou being smarter than him, that was literally never an issue (and only came up in the stageplay for comic relief reasons and very briefly in the reboot, where Jyou felt visibly intimidated upon meeting Koushirou for the first time). Koushirou never looked down on him for that either - they're both dorks, who canonically have shown protective sides for each other in 01 and 02 and they should have had more opportunities to bond over trivial things. Unfortunately, Tri felt quite hollow in the way Jyou tried to take care of Koushirou, which made him feel belittled, so it absolutely didn't work out at all... That's where stageplay!Jyou was the superior one, literally the ONLY (human) character after the gate scene in 01 who said he believed in Koushirou. Plus, Koushirou was also indredibly happy to have Jyou around at the beginning, so mutual adoration is definitely there.

Mimi & Jyou: Mimi and him are just so... You wouldn't even think of them as a likely pair outside of "The Beauty and the Nerd" tropes, but I will never get over how nicely they played off of each other in the Dark Master's arc, with him staying behind with her and them finding their "purposes" outside of being "main fighters". That is why their scenes in the second Tri movie actually work, even if they basically admit that they have already been there before - they are able to open up to each other, because they've BEEN through so much already. Mimi admires Jyou for prioritizing what he does and Jyou admires Mimi for being straightforward with what she wants, even if neither of them are happy with themselves at that point in time, struggling with their own ideas of “selfishness”. But they actually do take each other for what they are. Surely Mimi had her own moments of doubting Jyou’s capabilities here and there at the VERY beginning, but that shifted completely by the end of 01; neither of them has to change for the sake of the other or play a role and that is why I feel like they are such a great fit!

Takeru & Jyou: Takeru and him have the biggest age gap, but I am so mad we never got bonding material for them after 02, like... Jyou saved Takeru so many times, Takeru was always so happy to see Jyou and, due to getting saved so many times, trusted in him without a shred of a doubt from the very beginning. Plus, we have the "my relationship to my big brother(s) is (potentially) complicated" angle which should have been explored a LOT more.

Hikari & Jyou: Hikari and him are the least developed due to the lack of screentime together, but it's interesting that SHE was the one who encouraged him to come back and fight again in Tri, making it his own choice, because... Well... She wasn't even THERE when he had to come to that conclusion in the 01. I still maintain that scene would have been SO much more impactful if either Takeru, Yamato, Sora or Mimi had said it to him - probably not Sora or Yamato, because they were having their own struggles at this point, but Takeru would have been PERFECT here.

#jou kidou #jyou kidou #joe kidou #meta #my two cents #anime #digimon #relationship analysis #taijyou #jyoumato #jyoura #jyoushirou #jyoumi #jyoukeru #jyoukari

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jaeheewillalwaysbemyfav · 3 years

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[The following ask is just an attempt on my, Winter's, part to exploit a quirk in tumblr's code that keeps formatting from copy/pasted items when answering an ask on desktop as opposed to making a text post.]

MC is a Phoenix and Child of a Famous Magic User

A slightly modified request fill for @guardianoftheunderworld090! This ended up getting away from me a bit, and by a bit I mean a lot so uhhh Oops! Because of that, I didn’t end up doing the dateables+Luke, so apologies! But this is already probably wayyyyy off from the original request anyway.

Again, oopsie :3

Content Warnings: Temporary character death, spoilers for Lesson 16+, brief implication of immolation (but not really bc, y’know, phoenix), mild-to-moderate blood and injuries/violence

As soon as they learned their name, everyone knew of MC. While not quite on Solomon or the great witch Maddi’s level, their parents had made quite the name for themselves in the magical community. Their pre-existing knowledge of magic and the supernatural was therefore completely expected.

Less so was what happened when they died.

Mammon had been cradling their body when it happened, still too stunned to react to his smug younger brother gloating about taking out such a fragile, weak creature. The entire House of Lamentation was in shock: MC, the human they had come to cherish, was bleeding out right in front of their eyes and there was nothing they could do to stop it.

The Avatar of Greed’s breath hitched as he felt their pulse fade, watched the rise and fall of their chest cease…

And then he screamed as MC’s body burst into flames. They were scorching hot, but left no marks on him nor the surrounding area. On instinct, Beelzebub darted forward to pull Mammon away from the inferno, his protests weakened by surprise and grief. Belphegor was knocked backwards off his feet by the force of the flames, and they all watched as the fire raged on, until it began to take on a recognizable shape.

Not of MC, but of a brightly coloured flaming bird.

The phoenix cocked its head to the side, as though assessing its surroundings, eyes passing over each of the frozen brothers before rounding on Belphegor. It shrieked, puffed up feathers interspersed with jets of flame, and charged the youngest with its sharp beak and talons bared.

And suddenly it was no longer a bird.

“WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!” MC yelled as they continued to slash at Belphie. A large pair of bright flaming wings arched behind their back, threatening to torch anything they touched. “I LITERALLY RISKED THE WRATH OF LUCIFER FOR WEEKS TO HELP YOUR SORRY ASS GET OUT OF THAT ATTIC AND THIS IS HOW YOU THANK ME?! WITH MURDER?!”

Blood pooled in Belphie’s mouth from a particularly nasty slash across his lip. He spit to the side before replying, “In my defense, most people stay dead when you kill them!”

“THAT’S ALL YOU HAVE TO—”

“...MC?” Levi said, voice small. “I-Is that really you…?” His tail swished behind him anxiously.

MC turned their attention to the rest of the brothers (one set of talons still embedded in Belphie’s leg, in case he had thoughts of running).

Beel was stock still, eyes pointed ahead but staring at something beyond the room. Asmo was crying silently, though his expression was neutral and wide eyed. The gears in Satan’s head were visibly turning even as he shredded the sleeves of his shirt with his claws. Mammon was misty eyed, with such an open expression of love and want and hurt that it made them want to cry as well. And Lucifer… The Avatar of Pride’s usual mask of stony superiority had crumbled into something lost and broken.

They looked back to Belphegor, who clutched at his leg, his own tears threatening to spill from his eyes. They slowly remove their talons from his leg and face the group, folding their wings inward until they regain their humanoid form.

“I guess I have a bit of explaining to do, huh.”

Lucifer

Too many things have happened so fast, he doesn’t even know how to respond.

Not only has MC apparently been having secret meetings with Belphegor, not only are the pacts they’ve made with his brothers just tools to free him, not only did Belphegor then betray them and attempt to kill them, but they’re also… A phoenix?!

Distantly, hysterically, he thinks, how in the three realms is that not on their file?

“Oh, I’m also not technically from this timel-”

Lucifer shushes them. He can’t deal with any other reveals right now.

Once… everything is dealt with, he allows himself to be curious about MC’s origins.

Have they always been this way? Were they adopted by their parents, a familiar given human form, or had something gone wrong one day with a spell?

He’ll never ask them though. He knows origins can be touchy subjects.

He grounds himself in the practical. Does MC know how to control their abilities? Are their needs being met? Are there any additional accommodations they require?

Sometimes, when their wings are out, he can’t help but be reminded of the similarly fiery wings of the seraphim from home the Celestial Realm and feel nostalgic.

His more possessive side also relishes the fact that they share a connection through association with birds, especially considering how some varieties of phoenixes tend to resemble peacocks.

It must be difficult for them to preen those large wings, do they need any help? No, it’s not that he wants to, don’t be ridiculous. But if they ever want his help...

Mammon

Once the initial shock of “holy shit the love of my life just BURST INTO FLAMES IN MY ARMS” fades, he’s just happy MC’s alive and well.

But he does put on a front of being upset that they never told him about their nature.

“Stupid hu— uhhh, phoenix, I worried for nothin’! Wait, no, I wasn’t worried at all—”

“Sure you weren’t,” MC retorts with a smile.

Seriously though, why didn’t they tell him? He’s their guardian, their First, he should know these things!

Do they think he’ll… try and take advantage of them because of their powers? He’d never!

Okay, maybe when they first met he might have considered it, but not now! Not now that he…

One night, Mammon and MC are up late watching some terrible Devildom romcom. MC has long since fallen asleep, and one of their enormous wings is draped over Mammon, pinning him in place.

The flames interspersed amongst their feathers are short and glow only dimly, like dying embers. Occasionally, a few will flare slightly or twitch as though a breeze has blown by.

“...I was really scared, you know,” he murmurs to their sleeping form. “I really thought you were gone. And I realized at that moment that I… I can’t lose you. I love you so much MC. You’re worth more to me than anything else in the Devildom, than anything in all the three realms. Please don’t scare me like that ever again…”

MC doesn’t stir, but the flames on their wing follow Mammon’s hand as he pets the warm feathers. They’re only pleasantly warm, with a smooth, silky texture to them.

He snuggles closer to them and drifts off himself, comforted by the heat of their body, human and avian anatomy alike.

Leviathan

Levi cannot believe his luck. He finally gets himself a friend he can really trust, and then his younger brother (who was trapped in an attic by the way, NOT in the human world like Lucifer said, because oh yeah, also Lucifer’s a liar) kills them, and now they’re—

It’s too much to process at once. All he can latch onto is that’s them, right? That’s really his MC, his Henry, the one person outside of his family who doesn’t dismiss him as some gross shut-in?

Once he’s assured himself that they’re safe, he’s immediately hit with the rest of the surprises to process. He hugs MC tightly against himself, whether to protect them from Belphegor or himself from… everything, is anyone’s guess.

It takes a long time for Levi’s newfound clinginess to dissipate. He refuses to let MC be alone around Belphegor under any circumstances, even if it means leaving his room more than he’s comfortable with.

In this time, he learns a lot about MC.

He learns that they seek to cool off the same way he seeks out warmth, and that this makes them excellent cuddling partners. He learns that they let out very adorable chirps of squawks when caught off guard.

He learns the hard way that a phoenix in love is a fire hazard.

But he also learns that he’d risk every item in his collection to see MC’s radiant smile.

Satan

Set the phoenix thing aside, Satan thinks to himself as he rushes over to inspect MC for injuries. Set it aside.

Once he’s sure they are unharmed, he turns his attention to Belphegor.

The Avatar of Sloth is lucky MC got to him first. Satan wouldn’t have stopped at a warning strike. Belphie knows from the murderous glare shot his way that it is only the presence of the others that’s stopping Satan from taking his revenge.

His fingers linger in their wings. MC’s feathers are all out of sorts, but there are no bald patches indicating any serious burns or other wounds. Still, Satan cards through them carefully, checking and double checking for any signs of damage. MC fidgets under his attention.

“Uh, Satan?” They’re blushing. “That kinda tickles.”

“Oh! Oh, um, sorry, I was just— you’re okay, right?”

They let out a small laugh and bop him gently with a wing. “Everything’s in working order, don’t worry.”

“That’s— Good, that’s uh, that’s great.”

“...Go ahead, you dork,” MC prompts with a smile. He blinks at them owlishly. “Ask your questions!”

He does, over the course of the next couple of weeks, in between therapeutic pranks against a certain youngest brother.

Asmodeus

As MC is born again from flame, Asmo learns the true horror of love.

He had always been the one to invoke passion in others: to seduce loyal partners and drive others mad with desire, to twist their love into lust and unleash its destructive potential. Despite this, he never really understood the feeling himself, why something as ephemeral as a feeling could drive humans to such extremes.

But seeing MC wounded and bloody, watching the light in their eyes dim, the Avatar of Lust had felt the call of blood and rage and grief and love for the first time. And watching MC dust themself off as they explain their unique heritage, Asmo realizes that those feelings would have destroyed him. He would have done anything and everything to bring MC back to him, given up any part of himself just to see them one more time.

So forgive him, MC, if his movements ever slow to a stop while preening your wings. If he sometimes stares at you with awe, or holds you tight enough to bruise.

His heart has never been anyone’s but his before, and he is so very afraid of getting burned.

Beelzebub & Belphegor

Oh this is Not bringing up good memories at all.

Something about seeing MC and Belphegor, bloody with the scent of fire and death in the air jumbles his senses and suddenly they’re not in the House of Lamentation but the battlefield and she’s been struck down, he was too slow, he chose his twin over his sister can he live with that? Can any of them? She’s falling she’s falling and he’s falling and they’re going to—

When he snaps back into awareness, Beel is restraining a hissing and spitting MC as they scratch and claw at him to get to Belphegor, the one wing Beel didn’t manage to pin down flapping about erratically.

Their movements only stop when they feel hot tears on their back. MC calms down and shifts more gently in Beelzebub’s grasp, turning to face him.

“Beel, it’s okay,” they say, cupping his face with a bloody, taloned hand. He smells the blood and lets out a sob.

Belphegor moves to comfort his twin, but MC’s wings snap open, shielding the pair in a ring of fire and feathers.

“I— I…” He can’t form the words. You died, my brother killed you, he’s here, you hurt him, why is he here, why did he hurt you, how did— “Please,” he says, finally.

MC frowns, hesitates. But slowly, they lower their wings and step aside, letting the twins reunite. As they embrace, Belphegor shoots them a look, but it’s not hateful. It’s not regretful or apologetic either, more of a profound confusion.

Despite demons’ regenerative abilities, Belphegor remains mostly bedridden for quite some time. It seems a phoenix’s wounds negate most healing factors, and the 5 pronged gash in his leg is particularly stubborn in its refusal to close. He jokes that the slow recovery must be because MC will never forgive him for what he’s done. Beel chastises him and says they’re more forgiving than he thinks.

Still, Belphie is surprised to see MC join Beel when he comes to change the youngest’s bandages. They hold out their hands, revealing 10 strange, press-on caps over their talons as they assure Belphie they won’t hurt him.

Where Beel is overly cautious and gentle, MC is practiced and efficient as they inspect, clean, and redress his wounds.

“Is this your way of apologizing?” Belphie can’t help but ask, earning him a stern glare from his twin.

“For attacking you after you killed me, not knowing it wouldn’t take? No,” they reply around a mouthful of medical tape. “It’s an excuse to talk.” They gesture for Beel to move his hand from the gauze pad so they can tape it down.

“You want to talk with your would-be murderer.” MC gathers up the garbage and old bandages to toss them in the trash.

“You’re not the first person to try, you know,” they remark as they dust off their hands.

“What?!” the twins shout in unison, Beel nearly dropping the scissors he was putting back into the first aid kit.

“I’ll tell you about it if you tell me why…” MC gestures broadly to Belphegor, “this all happened the way it did.”

This exchange of stories does not repair MC and Belphegor’s fraught relationship. That is not how wounds heal. But nevertheless, some weeks later, the House of Lamentation has a movie night. And sandwiched in the middle of the familial cuddle pile is MC, Beel, and Belphie, each tucked under one fiery wing.

#obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me fanfic #mine #my writing #lucifer #mammon #leviathan #satan #asmodeus #beelzebub #belphegor #as you can see this stylistically got very far away from me lmao #i'm not sure how i feel about it #eh #c'est la vie

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brandyllyn · 3 years

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The Scoundrel’s Reward

Summary: You have been captured by a terrible monster! Is your rescuer the dashing pilot he claims to be - or is he a scoundrel in disguise? Alternatively: Poe Dameron and you goof around and have some fun one night in his quarters.

Part of the "Goofballs in Love" Series of One-Shots: The Scoundrel’s Reward, Ghosts of Girlfriends Past, Flexibility (noun), Give me my sin again, Writing on the Wall

My Masterlist

Words: 3K (Read it on AO3.) [complete] Rated: Explicit Warnings: established relationship. roleplay. consensual dubious consent. bondage. mild violence against droids. oral (f receiving). PiV sex. two people being dorks in bed.

-Privacy Locks Engaged-

Poe tilted his head as he looked at the small screen outside his quarters, trying to think of a reason the locks might be enabled. He had the codes, of course. They were his quarters after all. Had he done it before he left? He was pretty sure he hadn’t.

Had something happened inside there? Someone might have set the privacy locks in order to keep people out. A leak maybe? Or a repair? But that didn’t make sense, if that had happened someone would have contacted him. And he was pretty sure there was a special code for that sort of thing anyway. The privacy locks were for situations when you didn’t want people walking in on you. Hell, if you didn’t have the door code you just got an error message. But if you had the door code…

-Privacy Locks Engaged.-

He rarely used them. Once or twice when he’d come back after a mission and needed double digit hours of uninterrupted sleep. Once when he’d been deep into studying some new X-Wing configurations and didn’t want distractions. But usually he used them when he had you over.

You.

The only other person who had access to the room’s security system was you. He raised an eyebrow. Did this mean you wanted privacy? But if that was true, you had your own quarters you could be in - rather than his. He mulled the problem over more.

Generally he used the privacy locks when you and he wanted alone time. When he didn’t want to risk some friendly pilot or whoever beeping in to halt whatever fun things the two of you were doing in bed together. He considered the possibility. Maybe you were in his room doing something fun in bed. You had intended to see each other that night - maybe you had gotten a head start waiting for him.

-Privacy Locks Disengaged.-

When the doors slid open he stepped inside quickly, reengaging the lock behind him. The room was dark, shadows dancing along the wall from a single lamp with a sheer yellow scarf tossed across it. His eyes were drawn immediately to the bed, and the form lying across it.

You were wearing a sheer white robe, one he’d never seen before. Even in the low light he thought he could make out the darker shade of your nipples peeking through. Somehow more interestingly, you were tied up. Hands bound above your head. When he entered the room your eyes met his and then you winked before your face dropped into over-the-top fear.

"Oh thank the gods, someone is here to rescue me," you called out in a comically desperate voice. He felt his lips twitch. "Please, handsome stranger, save me from this foul beast."

"Oh?" Poe asked, leaning against the door with a smirk. "And who has captured you fair maiden?"

He heard a whirring noise and saw BB-8 roll to place itself between its owner and you, one port opening and the droid’s taser snapping in the still air. The droid beeped questioningly and he heard you whisper, "Yes now."

A series of low angry whistles came from the droid. Threats of violence as BB-8 rolled toward him, taser crackling menacingly. Poe took a step back, putting a chair between himself and the 'beast'. "Ah, I see," he nodded, "a most fearsome foe indeed."

BB-8 gave a pleased little spin at that and he heard you urging the droid back into character. Taking advantage of the distraction Poe turned to the wall, finding a discarded broom and brandishing it.

"Unhand her foul beast!"

BB-8 rolled backwards in alarm and Poe tapped the droid gently with the broom. "Take that!" Another gentle tap. "And that!"

BB-8 spun in place in confusion before rolling towards Poe. Thinking fast, he jumped on top of the nearby table, crouching low and continuing to tap at the droid as it circled around him. Poe threw his boots at the droid one by one, taunting it for being unable to reach him on the table. BB-8 called out increasingly silly threats until Poe finally leapt down and pinned it with a downward thrust of the broom. He squatted quickly whispering "Thanks buddy, go back to your dock now."

BB-8 trilled happily, returning to its charging station and powering down. Poe tossed his 'sword' aside and made his way to the bed, strutting and puffing his chest out in victory.

"Oh brave man, thank you for saving me," you called out, lips parted and eyes wide in adoration.

"It was nothing," he shrugged one shoulder, brushing the arms of his flight suit off. "All in a day’s work for a Resistance pilot."

A small gasp. "A hero of the Resistance? To save me? I am so fortunate." Okay, maybe you were being a little over the top now.

He sat on the edge of the bed, leaning forward and slipping his arms under you to help you sit upright. His fingers toyed with your bound wrists as they fell between the two of you. "It is I who am fortunate," his voice lowered an octave, "to have the chance to meet such a beautiful… princess?" He raised an eyebrow in question and saw you nod before committing to the line. "A princess far beyond the reach of a scoundrel like myself."

He heard you snort and thought for a second you rolled your eyes before he saw them widen into doe-eyed innocence. "Does this scoundrel have a name?"

"You can call me Commander," he said with a smirk. Oh you definitely rolled your eyes at that.

"What can I possibly do to reward you?" you ask, lips parted and eyelashes fluttering. Your bound hands shifted, resting high on his thigh.

"Oh I’m sure we can think of something," he tilted your chin up with one hand, thumb stroking along your lip. His hand trailed down, feeling the heat of your skin through the flimsy robe until he ran one finger around your taut nipple.

"You would take advantage of me?" Your breathy question makes his lips twitch. "Please sir I am at your mercy."

"Mmm," he hummed contentedly to himself, "I see that." He rolled your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, listening to the soft inhale of air and feeling the clench of your fingers on his thighs.

"Oh I have escaped from one monster only to fall into the clutches of another!"

Poe buried his face in your neck to stop the laughter from spilling out of him, reaching down and clasping the bindings around your wrists with one hand. Using them to pull you forward until you fell into his chest. "In my clutches," he grinned to himself, "I like that."

Your head is tilted to the side, offering your neck to his mouth and he took the opportunity without further prompting. His tongue seeking the places that he knew made you groan and squirm. "Please," the breathy moan from you made blood rush down to his cock. "Please don’t…"

"Don’t?" He whispered against your skin. "Don’t what? Do this?" Teeth sank into your shoulder and he heard you whine, felt your body arch into him. He pressed one hand behind you to delve into your hair, pulling slightly and exposing more of you to him. "What is it princess? Don’t what?"

You moaned again, the sound settling into his body. "You say you don’t want this," he murmured, tongue sliding along your jaw, "but I think if I slipped my fingers between those pretty thighs of yours I’d find a different story. Should I find out?" He glided one hand down to your thigh, flipping the flimsy robe to the side to expose you. "Hmm? Are you wet for me princess?"

He didn’t wait for your response, fingers forcing between your clenched thighs and just barely tickling into the slick heat he found. "Oh yes," his teeth nipped your ear, "that’s what I thought. You want this scoundrel to touch you."

"No," your breathy denial stirred the air between the two of you and he felt himself get harder. "I don’t want this. Not with you."

"Your body says otherwise," he countered, tongue tracing your ear. Quickly, he shifted his weight, laying you back down across the bed and stretching your bound hands high over your head. You struggled, body writhing beneath his. He grunted and straddled your waist, using both hands to secure your wrists to the head of the bed. From his vantage above you he gave you a considering look, biting his lower lip.

"Please," you pleaded, eyes wide on his. He leaned forward and pressed two fingers to your lips. Your mouth parted immediately, sucking them into the wet warmth. He groaned when he felt you lick softly at the pads of his fingers.

"You must be the Force’s gift to me for being the best pilot in the galaxy," he grinned and heard you snort. Giving you a disappointed look for breaking character, he used his free hand to flick your side and felt you squirm. He bit his bottom lip when you glared at him in return, nipping at his fingers. "Maybe I’ll use this sweet mouth of yours," he mused and the teasing look in your eyes was replaced by something more feral. More hungry.

He had said it as a joke, as a threat in the spirit of the rogue he was playing. But seeing the change on your face, the way you sucked on his fingers… He groaned, leaning forward to thrust his tongue into your mouth, using his fingers to hold your jaw open.

When he pulled away he saw your eyes were hazy, your tongue lazily circling his fingers. He smirked down at you, "Mmm princess, seems like maybe you do want this."

Your eyes snap up to his, jerking your face away from his hand. "Never."

"Oh really," he raised an eyebrow, shifting his body until he was straddling your thighs, running his hands lightly down your neck. With deliberate slowness he parted the robe, exposing your body to the air and his eyes. He swallowed, the sight of you never failed to cause his heart to skip a beat, his blood to pump faster. He ran a finger under your breast, hiding a smile when you arched slightly up to him.

His fingers tweaked your nipple, "Princess, I could have you begging for me."

"I would never beg for ahh," your protestations were cut off when he leaned forward, wrapping his lips around the sensitive nub and sucking it hard into his mouth.

"What was that?" He asked conversationally, laving it with his tongue before gently setting his teeth to it. "That almost sounded like begging."

He glanced up when you didn’t respond, saw your eyes squeezed shut, your mouth open in a silent gasp. He nibbled at your nipple, heard the keening noise you made and turning his attention to the other. Giving it the same ministrations, flicking the one not in his mouth with his thumb. His body shifted, his knee forcing your legs apart and he reached down to glide his fingers through the heart of you.

"Oh, at least one part of you is honest," he whispered into your skin. Slick heat coated his fingertips and he muffled a groan, moving so both his legs were between yours, holding you wide open to the exploration of his fingers. When they glided across your clit you moaned and he echoed it. "Mmm, that was closer, but not quite."

He shifted down your body, pressing kisses to your skin until he settled between your legs, situating your thighs over his shoulders. His hands clasped at your hips as he pulled you slightly, into his waiting mouth. The breathy little sigh you made was music - just the touch of his lips enough to pull that pleased little noise from you. He nuzzled you for a moment, his nose slipping between your wet folds and over your clit. Another noise, sharper this time.

Looking up he could see you spread out before him, the arms pinned above your head pulling your breasts up high. Your stomach was quivering and he ran a soothing hand over it at the same moment he gently licked against you.

"Poe!" you shouted and he nipped you.

"Nuh uh, tonight I’m just Commander." He thought for a moment, "Or 'Sir' if you want."

Your toes pushed against his hips and he had a feeling that 'Sir' was off the table. Ah well, it was worth a shot. Instead, he dipped his tongue into you, thrusting slowly into your tight channel.

"Oh… Commander," you panted and Poe rewarded you with a long lick up to your clit, flicking against the bundle of nerves and then moving down again. Taking his time, ignoring your breathy moans and the clench of your thighs around his head. Occasionally he turned his mouth to your inner thigh, running his tongue along the soft skin and gently biting. But he always returned to your heat, your soaking core.

"Sir…"

He closed his lips on your clit, massaging it with his lips before letting it go. "Oh that sounds lovely. Beg for me princess. Tell me how much you want me."

"I want…" you started but he was tonguing your clit again and all thought seemed to fly from your head. One of his fingers slowly slid inside of you, filling an aching need. "Please," you finally gasp and he thrust his hand up hard into you, flicking your clit with his tongue.

He gentled immediately, listening to your breathy whine. "Much better," he muttered against your clit. "If I give you what you want - what will you give me?"

"Anything," you promised recklessly.

"Oh I like the sound of that," he hummed in pleasure. "Will you let me put my cock right here?" He stroked inside of you for emphasis and you nod.

"Yes, yes, please."

"Alright then, since you ask so nicely." He didn’t tease anymore, just buried his face against you and drove you relentlessly into your peak. Holding you steady with one hand while he fucked you with the other. He relished your cries, the way your body rocked beneath his hand, even the curl of your toes into his shirt. He would never get tired of making you come. Never.

As you slowly drifted along the highs of your pleasure he sat up, pulling his shirt over his head and quickly shoving his pants off. By the time you were somewhat coherent his body was laying over yours, his mouth seeking yours out.

"Taste how much you want me," he murmured, urging your tongue to tangle with his. You moaned, arms straining against the bindings, wanting to wrap him in your embrace.

"Poe," you gasped and he nips your lower lip. "Commander," you correct quickly, "please, I want you inside me."

"All you had to do was ask princess," he whispered back, lifting one of your knees with his hand and sliding inside of you in one smooth stroke. You groaned together and he pulled away from you just as slowly, starting a smooth steady rhythm.

"Commander," you breathed and fuck but that shouldn’t be as sexy as it was. He was going to have a hard time ever concentrating during shift again with the memory of your sweet voice moaning his rank into his ear.

"Commander please, I need more."

"More?" He shifted slightly and fucked in to you hard. "Like this?"

"Yes," your reply was instant, your mouth gaping open and he quickly took advantage. Capturing your lips in a desperate kiss. His forearms were under your shoulders, hands cupping each side of your head. Holding you still while his tongue ravished you, hips snapping into yours. He relished the hot pant of your breath into his mouth, the moans he could capture. When your legs rose to wrap around his waist he lowered one of his hands to cup beneath your ass, urging you to meet his heavy thrusts.

"Are you going to come for me again princess?" He whispered the words directly against your tongue, shifting his weight so he could slip his hand between your bodies. When his fingers gently circled your clit you cried out - thighs clenching against his waist.

"That’s it baby," he pulled his head away so he could watch your face. "That’s it, come for me."

He could see your fists clenching, your arms stretched above your head, your back arching. Every movement was taut, beautiful, straining for release. He moved his fingers faster, picking the pace of his hips up.

You screamed when you came, a wordless cry that shot straight into his heart. He moved his hand away quickly, back to holding your head as he ground his hips down into yours. "Oh fuck princess," he moaned, your muscles tightening and releasing as your orgasm washed over you. "Just like that. Fuck you feel-"

Whatever he was going to say was cut off by your lips. Neck arching up to capture his mouth and he followed you back down. Lips pressed to yours as he lost his rhythm. Lost his senses. Lost his mind in the pleasure of your body.

When his brain began to function again he could feel your legs still wrapped around his waist, the hot puffs of your breath stirring his hair. He grunted when he pushed himself up, nuzzling your nose with his before placing a light kiss on your lips.

"I think that was a suitable reward for slaying a dragon," he said with a grin and saw your nose crinkle when you giggled.

"Wicked man," you sighed and he kissed you again, pulling slightly on your hair. You arched your neck into the touch, gasping softly.

"Very wicked," he assured you and trailed kisses down your neck. He felt himself slip out of you, heard the small noise you made when he did. He lightly ghosted his lips across your collarbone. "Now," he said, slowly sitting up and spreading his knees wide, your thighs thrown over his. "What inducement might you have for me to set you free?"

Your lips pursed for a moment, hiding a smile, and then you licked your lips. "You’ve already ravished me scoundrel. What more could I possibly give you?"

He raised an eyebrow and you winked at him. "Oh my dear princess," he cooed, running his hands up your thighs until his thumbs pressed to your center. "I can think of a few more things."

#poe dameron x you #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron / you #poe dameron / reader #poe dameron #smut #star wars fanfiction #fic

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ohheyitsokay · 3 years

Note

Elle! I come presenting a request!! So, Poly Frontier. Tell me more. What are some of the guys’ favorite activities to do with the reader/each other? How often are giant Cuddle Piles with all of them a thing? How does sharing a bed work with all of em? Who convinces who to get ridiculous matching couples’ shirts but then has to find a way to make all the others match too? - Ghost

ughh (affectionate) @scribbledghost is on a mission to get me to dork out over these boys, even though there's so many combinations it would take forever to fully write all my thoughts for each out

let's do it, abridged, if you need an expansion on any one in particular... lmk

note: this posted from my drafts before I was done! so I'll continue in another post at some point. enjoy!

warnings: this takes place in my poly frontier au, so it's 18+, but pretty mild relationship things, kissing and mild implications of sex, fluff fluff fluff

anyway

I'd like to reiterate that this is more of a web of individual relationships, rather than just one thing, which I think plays well with your questions.

As a group, I really see them doing silly hobby sports. Disc golf, rock climbing, hiking, even annoyingly competitive put put rounds. ("babes I want the blue club and ball, to match my eyes" "you're gonna have blue balls if you keep swinging your club around like that" "you guys are like children")They're all so overpowered, strong and muscular that they get restless - they like to be outside, unsuffocated and soaking in sun. If they can't blow of steam that way, I think they like classic fun dates, like bowling. Even if you're not all equal, they each like to help the more confused out, showing off techniques or using it as a chance to flirt (kissing the shell of your ear as they pretend to show you how to swing a club, gently rolling their hips against your butt). I think they especially prefer activities where it's "acceptable" being in groups, they hate having to waste energy fending off questions or guarding you from judging eyes.

I can see Benny and Santi working out together, and going to sporting events with Will. Santi and Will go for drives, and go to obscure grocery stores for adventures. The two of them and Frankie always volunteer together - kids sports coaching, soup kitchens, firefighting, animal shelters, you name it. Benny joins a lot, but he isnt great with things that dont involve interaction with people or animals, like setting up for local performances or packing care boxes or anything - he gets distracted talking. Santi and Frankie find weird recipes and then ignore them but the food somehow always taste amazing.

Frankie and Will do home projects together, fix things, create things that make the chaos of living in a group a little calmer. They enjoy the physical work, doing something with their hands as they talk. He and Ben go for their own drives, sharing wisdom silence as the crops and streetlights blur by.

It's kind of strange but Will and Frankie like to go on niche tours with you - they like to learn, but from guides and other tradesmen instead of labels and plaques.

If you do go to museums it's with Santi and Will, they both love having quiet talks about the big picture, and feeling simultaneously solid and small with their arms around you.

Surprisingly, Benny and Santi like to go shopping with you. Their taste and skill at helping is varied, but they like to watch you with the things you like, enjoy spending a little extra money on you, if you'll let them. It's innocent conversation, colors and textures and stories that have nothing to do with trauma.

With you alone, they all like to walk. When you stroll with Santi, he likes to make it romantic - pretty views, his jacket on your shoulders, your hand tucked into his elbow. Frankie just laces his big fingers with yours and the conversation flows to and from comfortable silence as naturally as waves wash ashore. More often then not, Will likes to see you occupied while you walk, likes to stuff his hands in his pocket and let you do the talking and just let your voice and glow wash over him, his gaze so adoring you'd think it could make you fly. Your Ben pulls you onto his back, his forearms under your knees, loving the extra weight of you against him, bragging until your nerves dissolve in laughter.

They adore any time they get. It's busy, having five different schedules, but you make time for the things and people you love.

Taglist:

@fangirl-316 @scribbledghost @writeforfandoms @beautyagegoodnesssize @princess76179 @mrsbentallmadge @pbeatriz

Poly frontier taglist:

@grogusmum

#triple frontier poly fic #triple frontier x reader #will miller x reader #santiago garcia x reader #frankie x reader #benny miller x reader #replies #poly frontier #scribbledghost

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ellewriteswrongs · 3 years

Text

layers of love - prinxiety

1.8k words

ao3 / ko-fi / previous work

summary: self-indulgent fluffy prinxiety, very domestic, some shrek references, y'all know the drill

cw: mild swearing, slight innuendo/suggestive dialogue

“Hey, can I ask you something?” Virgil asked from where he laid against his boyfriend’s chest. Roman’s hand stilled as he played with Virgil’s hair.

“Hmm?” He hummed, continuing to rock them with one leg hanging out of their shared hammock. “‘Course you can.”

Virgil made something akin to a purr as he laid in the sun, his hoodie discarded for once.

“When you first said you loved me…was it scary?”

Roman’s brow furrowed at the question, leaning back to try and see the other man’s face.

“Scary? I…I guess I don’t know. I think, in the moment, it just felt right,” he spoke with a soft smile, pausing only to plant a kiss on the other man’s forehead. “But ever since I realized it…every time I thought about saying it, I was terrified.”

When Virgil only shifted, tightening his grip around Roman’s waist, the latter continued.

“I was so worried you’d be freaked out and think I was moving too fast and the last thing I ever wanted was to scare you off, but I…” he trailed off, letting out an amused chuckle. “I was only ever afraid of losing you. Loving you has never scared me.”

Virgil hummed, leaning up to steal a lazy kiss from the corner of Roman’s lips.

“But what about all those stupid stories you like?” He smirked, folding his arms over Roman’s chest as he rested his chin on them. “Quite a bit of pressure there, Princey.”

Roman chuckled, twirling a particular strand of hair around his finger.

“Ahh yes, those stupid fairytales that you make me read to you all the time,” he teased, earning a playful slap on his shoulder. “I’ll have you know, I have more than enough understanding of when dramatic proclamations of my undying love are unwanted.”

Virgil just exhaled a short chuckle, reaching to pull Roman’s hand out of his hair and over to hold it against his cheek, first pressing a kiss into the palm.

“Isn’t that why it’s such a big deal though?” He mused, his eyes half-focused on the beach around them. “Like, isn’t the whole point of falling in love so that something changes once you say it? And…and nothing changed when we said it.”

Roman stiffed a little bit from under him. “Did you…want something to change?”

No. No, of course he didn’t. That was the best part about it.

He told Roman as such.

“I guess I just…always thought something would change, even if we didn’t really want it to,” he explained, closing his eyes as Roman started playing with his hair again. “But I like how we are. How we’ve always been.”

“How we’ve always been? I don’t know about you, stormcloud, but I think things have definitely changed for the better.”

Virgil huffed with a small smile.

“Alright, fine,” he said, his cheeks hot. “I’m glad we changed even if it was just a little.”

Roman chuckled, his chest vibrating comfortingly against Virgil’s head.

“Yeah, I think I like you a little bit more these days, sunshine.”

Virgil scoffed, jabbing Roman’s side with his elbow.

“Thanks, babe," he spoke teasingly. “What glowing praise."

Roman only wrapped both arms around him and squeezed tight, one hand cradling the back of his head and the other holding him by the waist.

"My darling dark and stormy knight,” Roman cooed dramatically, peppering kisses all over his face until the other started laughing. "The angel from my nightmares, oh how I adore you with everything I am."

Virgil smiled, his gaze soft and fond as he looked up at the man he loved.

"Mhm, that's more like it," he smirked, stealing a kiss. "I love you, dork."

Roman bent down to lean their foreheads together.

“What's with all the introspection, my love?"

"Good word, babe."

“Shut up, I'm just worried about you," Roman grumbled, tucking Virgil's head back under his chin.

"You're worried about me? Because I’m talking about being in love with you?" Virgil asked, taking one of Roman's hands to fiddle with his fingers.

"Well, you just don't...talk about it. We both don’t,” Roman explained, his voice vibrating through his chest. "And I'm glad we are, it's just...not what we do."

Virgil smiled, sighing contentedly.

"Nothing's wrong, I promise,” he assured him. "I guess I've just been thinking a lot lately."

"Oh wow, congrats," Roman teased with sarcastic claps.

“Shut up, oh my god,” Virgil complained, not even trying to hide his laughter. "I'm trying to be serious here."

"Alright, alright, I concede," Roman smiled, holding up his hands in mock surrender.

"I just kind of realized that I've been feeling different lately,” he started, causing Roman to immediately stiffen and lean back to see Virgil's face. Virgil smirked, rolling his eyes fondly. “I just told you nothing's wrong, chill babe."

"You telling me to chill out is quite ironic, methinks," Roman teased, relaxing back into the hammock. “It's not my fault you're rubbing off on me, Frank Fear-o.”

Virgil snorted a laugh at the nickname before he continued.

"Ever since we said it, I've just felt... better," he spoke, a soft smile on his face. "I don't even know how to explain it, it's just...better. I get headaches less, when I get anxious, it turns into panic attacks like half as much."

He paused as Roman's lips met his temple.

"And I think the strangest thing is," he spoke, propping himself up on his forearm to look down at his boyfriend

below him. “When you told me you loved me, I didn't doubt it for a second."

Roman gave a short, watery chuckle; his eyes tearing up just a little.

"Even just a year ago, I wouldn't've believed anybody who said that to me but you," he paused, reaching to squish Roman's cheeks with one hand until they both laughed. "I knew you'd never lie to me, but more than anything, I felt it."

He leaned in, intending to only steal a quick kiss before it swiftly escalated.

“Who knew you were such a sap?" Roman teased, breathing heavily as they eventually broke apart.

“Says you, Romeo."

“Oh, I wear that badge with pride, darling," he beamed. "According to Thomas' Twitter, I'm his 'simp' side."

Virgil snorted, laying back down as he leaned into Roman's shoulder.

"Okay, they're definitely right about that one,” he mumbled, ruffling the other’s curly hair affectionately. “I’ve got you wrapped around my finger and you can’t even deny it.”

Roman grabbed one of said fingers and brought it to his lips, planting a dramatic, drawn-out kiss with the most exaggerated noise he could.

“But of course!” He bellowed, earning a fond eye roll from his boyfriend. “For it is my only duty to bestow upon you all of the love one can possibly muster.”

Virgil quirked an eyebrow.

“I’m pretty sure you’ve got a few other duties, babe,” he challenged with a smirk. “Like maybe the concept pitch for the next scripted video that you haven’t done, or the notes for the editors, or the fact that Thomas hasn’t even picked up his ukulele since last year, or—“

“Okay! Okay, fine, I can’t devote my whole life to smothering you forever,” he agreed exasperatedly. “But if I could, I would.”

Virgil chuckled, folding his arms over Roman’s chest and resting his chin on top.

“Hmm, yeah I think I’d hate that.”

Roman gave an almost comical pout, pulling out the puppy dog eyes.

“Nope, absolutely not, you’re not getting me with that shit,” Virgil asserted, trying to maintain a firm tone as he came dangerously close to breaking into a smile. “Smother me twenty-four seven and I’ll dump you on the spot.”

Roman pulled a disbelieving face.

“You really think I’m buying that?” He smirked. “That you’d dump me for spoiling you absolutely rotten with my sweetness.”

He knew full well what he was doing.

“I need my space, princess,” he spoke, putting on a suave tone that he knew he wasn’t pulling off by the giggles that came from his boyfriend. “I gotta’ keep up the aesthetic.”

Roman brought Virgil’s hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to his knuckles.

“Alright, alright, I respect the commitment,” he spoke, punctuated by kisses from Virgil’s hand up to his shoulder. “It’s so tragic that Mr. Misery Business would rather brood than swoon.”

“Who says I can’t have both?” He grinned. “I’m multi-faceted these days, babe. I have layers.”

Roman snorted a laugh, ducking his head right by Virgil’s ear.

“Layers,” he spoke with a heavy Scottish accent, his hands squeezing Virgil’s sides. “Onions have layers. Ogres have layers. We both have layers.”

“Oh my god,” Virgil cackled with laughter. “I hate it. I hate you, never speak to me again.”

Roman smirked, unfazed.

“But Virgil, that’s what friends do, they forgive each other.”

“One more word and you’re not getting any kisses for the rest of the week.”

“It’s already Friday.”

“Well, I don’t exactly want to punish myself in the process.”

Roman flushed a little at the rare admittance of affection.

“You think you couldn’t go a full week without any kisses?”

“I mean,” Virgil spoke, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t know about you, but I don’t exactly want to find out.”

He answered with a chaste kiss to the other man’s temple. “I guess the world may never know.”

“If Logan were here right now, he’d probably try to get us to find out.”

“Well, then it’s a good thing I never listen to the ol’ poindexter anyways,” Roman grinned, quirking an eyebrow.

“Ahh, yes, my favorite thing about you,” Virgil teased with a sly smirk. “How you’d rather be eternally petty than have an ounce of rational thought in that pretty little head of yours.”

Roman gave an offended scoff.

“You know what, I’m just going to ignore everything you just said in favor of the fact that you called me pretty,” he defended with a humph.

“Oh, you like that?” Virgil continued teasing. “As if you don’t already know you're pretty.”

Roman feigned his innocence.

“I’m afraid I haven’t the slightest idea, darling. Perhaps you’ll have to enlighten me on what you find so appealing,” he drawled, his voice syrupy sweet in a way that would’ve made Virgil weak in the knees if they weren’t currently lying on top of each other. “My cute button nose? Thick, wavy locks? Maybe my taut, round buttocks?”

Virgil barked out a laugh, rolling his eyes with fond exasperation.

“Pull another Shrek quote out of that ass and I’ll see to it that you won’t be able to sit for a week—a full week.”

Roman froze, his eyes widening in surprise.

“Is…is that a threat or a promise?”

Virgil just groaned, shoving him until the hammock teetered and he panicked, clinging back onto the other man. “You’ve been spending too much time with your brother.”

“You may be right, but this is certainly more fun, I must admit,” he sighed happily.

“Just shut up and take a nap, princess.”

“As you wish, my love.”

#prinxiety #my work #my writing #ts prinxiety #ts roman #ts virgil #sanders sides #tss #tss virgil #tss roman #sanders side fic #roman sanders #virgil sanders

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5-seconds-of-bucky · 4 years

Text

You Are In Love

A/N: Very much based off the song You Are In Love by Taylor Swift, but I don’t know if this classifies as a song fic?? Anyways, here ya go! (Extra points if you can spot the very vague John Mulaney reference)

Summery: In the end, you’re always glad you married each other

Word count: 2.6k+

Warnings: A touch of angst, mild swearing

“Mind if I steal my wife?” Shawn asked the girls standing around you.

“Ooh, Y/N, looks like someone likes you,” you maid of honor said in a sing-songy voice.

“Really? Is he cute?” You all laughed as you excused yourself.

“Where are we going?” you giggled as he tugged you through the sea of tables.

He stopped abruptly and you almost crashed into him, placing a hand on his suit clad bicep to steady yourself. “Nowhere in particular,” he said with a smile.

You eyed him suspiciously and he winked in return, taking your hand off his bicep and kissing it before turning around and tugging you forward again. He didn’t stop until you reached a corner in the gigantic room, pulling you in close and swaying slightly to the faint music.

“We haven’t really had a moment to ourselves tonight,” he commented as you stood there.

He wasn’t wrong. You tried to keep the guest list down for the celebration, but that’s a hard task when it comes to a wedding. Everyone wanted to talk to you, and it felt like there was barely any time for you to just be with each other.

“We have to interact with our guests, my dear,” you said as you looked up at him. “We can’t invite them and then completely ignore them.”

“Well yeah, but it’s our wedding. Emphasis on our.”

“We have all the time in the world.”

You smile alone could’ve made him melt on the spot. He’d known for a long time that you were the one, but every time you smiled made him even more positive that statement.

“That we do, however, we only get one wedding day.”

It was cliche to say, but everything truly was perfect. From the moment he saw you in the white dress to the moment he pulled you into this dimily light corner away from the rest of the party, everything was pure bliss.

You shook your head, a genuine smile on your face. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

There was silence for a minute; nothing needed to be said. It was you and your husband against the world.

You were glad you married each other.

---

You yawned as you glanced at the clock. 11:48. You wanted to go to bed so bad, but Shawn made you promise you’d stay up until he got out of the shower. He didn’t tell you why but you assumed he wanted to go out and do something.

It was one of his favorite things to do while you were with him on tour. He loved his team, but sometimes he wanted to go places without anyone else around. With less people on the streets his fame was irrelevant: he was just some guy walking around with his wife late at night.

Your thoughts were interrupted when Shawn walked out of the bathroom, using a towel to dry his hair. He grinned when he saw you half asleep on the bed, and you couldn’t help but smile back. He silently went to his suitcase and tossed a hoodie to you before grabbing one for himself and tossing his towel in the bathroom.

“Where are we going?” you asked as you took his hand and he led you out of the room.

“Don’t know yet,” he shrugged, pressing the button for the elevator. “We’ll know when we see it.”

You gave him a questioning look. “We’re not going to get lost, are we?”

“Pssh, I would never get us lost.”

You rolled your eyes. “Uh huh. What about-”

The ding of the elevator interrupted you and Shawn dragged you in behind him, pulling you into a bone crushing hug.

“That’s irrelevant.”

“But-”

He used a hand to push your face into his chest. “Irrelevant!”

You sighed and hugged him back, too tired to fight back.

“I think the first thing we’re going to do is get you some caffeine,” he chuckled, loosening his grip the slightest bit.

“Good idea.”

You ended up at some random coffee shop down the road. Part of you desperately wanted to go to sleep, the other part wanted to use the time to have Shawn to yourself; a rare moment these days.

You took your drinks on the go, walking hand in hand around the quiet streets of the city. Except for the occasional joke about something you saw here and there, few words were exchanged between the two of you. The only light came from the soft glow of the street lamps. It was the perfect night for coffee at midnight.

“What time is our flight tomorrow?” Shawn asked as he stopped to take a seat on a bench, patting the spot next to him for you to sit.

“Well, technically it’s today and it’s at 5:30, which is in about four and a half hours.” You sat down next to him.

“You sound like that really annoying kid at sleepovers. ‘Uh, it’s tomorrow now,” he mocked with a dopey face.

“Shut up.” You punched him playfully in the arm with a giggle.

“Good lord, why’d we schedule such an early flight? We really should’ve gone to bed.”

“Really? I didn’t think of that.”

“You’re the worst.” The smile on his face said the exact opposite; full of adoration for the girl in front of him.

“What’cha gonna do about it, huh?”

“I’m gonna do this.” He leaned in and you assumed he wanted a kiss so you closed your eyes and leaned in as well. Your face scrunched in disgust when you felt him lick your cheek.

“Shawn Mendes,” you sighed, slowly bringing a hand up to wipe your cheek.

“Yeah?” he asked with a giggle.

You glared at him. “You are absolutely disgusting.”

“Oh yeah? What’cha gonna do about it?”

“Nothing because I’m a civilized person.”

He rolled his eyes playfully. “I’m sorry, your majesty.”

You nudged him with your shoulder as you laughed. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he yawned, stretching his arms up before placing one around your shoulders.

“That was not smooth at all.”

“Really? I think it was pretty smooth.”

“We’re married and you have to do the yawn arm stretch to put your arm around me?”

“No.” He rested his head on your shoulders. “I thought it would be cute.”

“You’re a dork.”

He was a dork, but you were glad you married him.

---

“I got the letter.” You rubbed the piece of paper between your fingers. You had read it at least four times that day and you wanted to read it a fifth, but Shawn called and you couldn’t pass up a chance to actually talk to him.

“Did you like it?” he asked shyly.

“Of course I liked it, silly!”

He let out a sigh of relief. He wasn’t even sure why he’d been so nervous about you receiving it in the first place.

“I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” he said, flopping down on the bed of the hotel room he was staying in for the night. “However, I must say that I do not miss your cold-ass hands on me.”

“Liar,” you accused, fake offense in your voice. “You wish these cold-ass hands were on you right now.”

“That’s debatable.”

“Okay then. Well, how's the whole international pop-star thing going?”

“Oh, you know. Just the usual.”

“Absolutely satisfactory,” you said at the same time. It was a running joke and you weren’t entirely sure where it began. Just one of the many things that made being apart the tiniest bit better.

You gazed longingly at a picture of the two of you on your honeymoon on your nightstand. “I want to use these cold-ass hands to give you a hug.”

“I wish they could.”

“Aha! So you do miss these cold-ass hands!”

“What, no? That’s not what I said.”

He could be a liar about missing your cold-ass hands, but you were glad you married him.

---

You could’ve stayed outside all night. It was the perfect temperature, and the only light came from the moon and a kitchen light you left on for when you decided to go back in.

You were laying on top of Shawn, head in the crook of his neck and hand over his heart. He had a foot on the ground, using it to rock the two of you back and forth in the hammock.

He had been rambling for a while now, failing to notice how your breathing was slowing down, eyes closed as you stopped trying to fight the exhaustion from the day.

“I don’t know. What do you think?” he asked.You didn’t answer and he laughed when he looked down and saw you far away in dream land.

“Hmm, wha’d you say?” You asked, lifting your head up slightly, bumping him in the jaw.

“Nothing. Go to sleep, it’s late,” he chuckled, slipping the hand that was resting on your back under your shirt and rubbing circles into your side.

“No, keep talking. I’m just resting my eyes.” You pressed a soft kiss to his jaw.

“Mmhm. Get some rest, Y/N.”

You snuggled into his chest, breathing in the faint scent of cologne and laundry detergent. He buried his face in your hair, closing his eyes and allowing himself to be in the moment. It was rare you got a quiet moment like this; just the two of you at home.

He was glad he married you.

---

“I just feel like you’re never home.”

“Shawn, what are you talking about?” you sighed. “I’m home all the time.”

“I haven’t properly seen you in three weeks. Three weeks, Y/N,” Shawn huffed. “This is the first time we’ve had dinner together in three weeks.”

“That’s not my fault, Shawn.”

“I came home early multiple times last week and you weren’t here. You were home at 9:30 every day last week. You’re only supposed to work until seven.” His eyes were cold and his movements rigid. Anyone could tell he was mad, but you knew better. Insecurity was creeping in. This wasn’t a fight you should be fighting, but you were going to anyways.

“I can’t control my workload. If I don’t get stuff done in time, I get fired. Time isn’t subjective. Deadlines exist.”

“You couldn’t come home on time just one time? One time, Y/N. That’s all I asked.”

“What, so I could stay until 11:30 the next day? I love you, Shawn, but I can’t do that to myself.” You were already so sick of the fight. The night had started out nice. You had dinner together for the first time in a while but Shawn grumbled about how you were never home under his breath and it only escalated from there.

“All I’m asking for is a little effort on your end.” There were a lot of things he could’ve said right then, but that was the one he had to go for.

“You really think I don’t care about this relationship?”

“That’s not what I-”

“I married you, Shawn. I’ve put up with the touring for months on end, the long nights at the studio, the PR stunts, everything. I clean the house, cook dinner for when you get home, leave you notes in the morning because I care; because I love you.”

Shawn zoned out, your rant becoming a background noise in his brain. He wanted to take the words back the moment he said them. He knew it wasn’t true, life was just frustrating when you didn’t see your wife for weeks on end.

“I think I’ve put in plenty of effort.” You took a step towards him, but it did little to close the huge space between you. “I’m sorry that my job keeps me over every once and awhile, but I put every ounce of myself into this relationship. You should know that better than anyone.”

He stared at you, trying to come up with the right words; words that could just fix everything so you could have just one nice night together for once.

“Are you going to say anything?” you asked, arms crossed and hurt evident in your voice.

“I didn’t mean it like that.” He ran a hand through his hair, voice having the slightest tone of accusation. He couldn’t think of anything else to say. His eyes were sincere, you could tell, but his lack of words said much more.

“Okay then,” you said quietly, biting your lip. “When you figure out what to say, let me know.”

“Okay.” His voice was barely audible, but it spoke volumes. You turned on your heel and walked to the guest bedroom, closing the door softly behind you. Angry as you were, slamming doors wasn’t going to help anything.

He sighed as you disappeared. You always seemed to be the more rational of the two of you and he never understood how you could deescalate yourself so quickly.

You could be mad at him all you wanted, as the end of the day, he was still glad he married you.

---

“Don’t freak out.”

“Telling me not to freak out is going to make me freak out more.” You were standing in the hallway of your office building, staring at the ceiling and tapping your foot as you waited for Shawn to tell you why he called you so abdamentelly in the middle of the workday.

“So I’m kinda on my way to the hospital.”

“Oh my gosh, Shawn, what happened?” Your mind raced with every worst case scenario. The fact that he was calling you should have been some indication that he wasn’t dying, but that did little to ease your worries.

“I was messing around with Brain and I might’ve maybe twisted my ankle really bad and it swelled up a lot so we’re just going to get it checked out.”

You breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank the lord.”

“Why do you sound so happy?”

“You never call me during work. I assumed you were dead or dying.”

“That’s a little unreasonable.”

“Shawn!”

“Sorry.”

“How bad does it hurt?”

“Like a . . . a six I guess?”

Is six enough to warrant surgery?

“I’m not going to be able to get out before my shift ends,” you sighed, leaning your head against the wall as you looked at your watch. “Let me know if you get out before I go home. I’m really sorry, babe.”

“Hakuna matata. I’ll see you soon.”

“Love you.”

“Love you too.”

He was probably the clumsiest person around, but you were still glad you married him.

---

The remains of Chinese takeout was scattered on the table, long forgotten as you lost yourselves in each other.

“No, but do you remember when you literally dragged me out at three in the morning and then got us lost so Andrew had to track us down and nearly killed us?” You asked, looking up from where you were laying across his lap.

“That is not what happened. First of all-”

“That is so what happened!” You sat up to give him that ‘you’re insane’ look.

“You’re crazy, woman.”

“That’s a strange way to address your wife.”

“I am a bit of a strange guy.”

“That’s an understatement.”

“Hey!” He pushed you off of him with a playful smile. “That’s a mean thing to say about your husband.”

“I am a bit of a mean wife.”

“That’s an overstatement. I mean, we’ve made it to one year of marriage and I haven’t considered divorce yet. That’s gotta work for something.”

“Fair enough.”

“I’m glad I married you, Y/N. Happy anniversary”

“Happy anniversary, babe. I’m glad I married you too.”

And it was true. At the end of every day, you were glad you married each other because there could never be anyone better.

Taglist // add yourself

@fallinallincurls @lonelyreputation @musicalkeys

#Shawn Mendes #Shawn Mendes fic #Shawn Mendes fanfic #Shawn Mendes fanfiction #Shawn Mendes one shot #Shawn Mendes imagine #Shawn Mendes writing #Husband!Shawn #Shawn Mendes fluff #Shawn Mendes angst #Shawn Mendes x reader #Shawn Mendes x Y/N #Y/N #Reader insert

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thatsamericano · 3 years

Text

True Colors Shining Through

Pairing/Characters: America/Romano. Smaller appearances from Germany, Veneziano, Canada, England, France, and Japan.

Ratings/Warnings: Teen, for mild cursing. Brief moment of possible homophobia from an unnamed nation, but it’s up to interpretation.

Word Count: 1647

Summary: America surprises everyone when he shows up to the world meeting in a rainbow colored business suit, including his boyfriend Romano.

A/N: Written for @hetalia-writers-monthly, for the June concrete prompt “rainbow.” Inspired by this post from @bitchapalooza. Title taken from the Cyndi Lauper song “True Colors.”

Germany was grumbling to himself as he arranged a stack of papers in preparation for the world meeting. “It would be nice if people could respect everyone else’s busy schedule and actually show up to the meeting on time.”

“Ve, don’t stress out so much, Ludo,” Feliciano said. “Almost everyone is here, except for America and whoever is supposed to be sitting next to him.”

Romano paused in the middle of his boredom-induced doodling long enough to roll his eyes at his little brother. “It’s Canada. America’s brother.”

“Right, Canada! I wonder why they haven’t showed up yet.”

Savino shrugged as if he didn’t care. “Beats me.” But he was wondering why Alfred hadn’t shown up yet. When they spoke on the phone last night, Alfred had been quite enthusiastic about some “surprise” he had planned for the meeting. He was also thrilled that he’d get to spend some time with Savino after the meeting, because the distance between them usually limited how much time they could spend together in person. Of course, Alfred being Alfred, he had expressed his excitement in the sappiest way possible and left Romano a blushing mess by the time the phone call ended.

America and Romano had only been together a few weeks, and they hadn’t gone public with their relationship yet because it was so new. They were still figuring things out about themselves and each other. Fredo knew he’d probably have to “come out” at some point, but unlike Savino, he didn’t have a label for his sexuality that made sense to him. All he knew was that he was happy with Romano and that anyone who gave him or his boyfriend crap for it would deserve some creative insults (if they were human) or a punch in the face (if they were a nation and therefore able to withstand Alfred’s punches without dying). Savino agreed strongly with Alfred on the latter point, and he didn’t mind waiting a bit until Alfred felt more comfortable telling people about them. For now, it was nice to have their relationship be just between them, without having to face the scrutiny or opinions of any other nations.

Romano idly continued doodling until the door to the conference room opened. He glanced up as Canada ducked his head into the doorway. “Sorry we’re late, eh?”

“It’s alright. Please take your seat,” Germany replied.

Canada turned his head to whisper to someone behind him, and then he walked into the room, followed closely by his brother. Romano’s eyes widened and his jaw dropped when he saw what Alfred had worn to the meeting.

It was only a business suit in the most technical sense of the term. The jacket, the trousers, and the tie were all striped with the colors of the rainbow. Or more specifically, the colors of the rainbow pride flag. Alfred’s ridiculously loud outfit contrasted with the darker and more muted suits everyone else was wearing. The only part of America’s outfit that was normal was his white shirt, his normal briefcase, his glasses, and his black patent leather shoes.

A stunned silence fell over the room, and it was only broken by a few hushed, baffled whispers. Alfred glanced over at Savino to flash him a quick smile before he sat down, but he didn’t explain himself to anyone. Apparently, he didn’t feel the need to, just like Savino didn’t feel the need to respond to his little brother poking him in the arm and asking him what was going on. Not that he would’ve been able to tell Feli what the fuck was going on, because he was just as confused as everyone else.

England, who was sitting on America’s right, was the first person to speak. “Alfred, what the bloody hell are you wearing?!”

America laughed and pulled some papers out of his briefcase. “It’s a business suit, dude. I’m pretty sure they have those in England.”

“I think what Angleterre was trying to say is that your outfit today is a bit more… how you say, flamboyant than your usual attire,” France pointed out as diplomatically as he could. “Especially for a world meeting.”

“It’s Pride Month. Being flamboyant is kind of the point, isn’t it?”

France blinked in disbelief, and the whispering from before increased into a steady, background hum. Romano heard someone from across the room scoffing and asking why America had to “show off” instead of wearing a pin like anyone else would have, and Romano turned to glare spitefully in their general direction. Sure, wearing a rainbow business suit to a world meeting was over the top in a way only Alfred would be, but America had every right to “show off.” Savino wouldn’t let anyone talk about his boyfriend like that.

Japan cleared his throat. “Alfred-san, forgive me if this is an intrusive question, but are you trying to tell us that you’re gay?”

“Don’t worry bro, it’s fine. And to answer your question, yeah. I’m not sure of my exact label, but I am into guys, or at least one guy in particular.” A broad grin stole over his face, and then Alfred looked directly at Savino and winked at him.

Savino’s face instantly turned scarlet, because Alfred’s wink and his grin made him flustered beyond all reason, damn it. America’s blatant statement, along with Romano’s reaction, naturally prompted even more gossip. The loud cry of “ha, I knew it!” from Lithuania was not particularly surprising, and neither were Spain’s or Feli’s comments on how much Savino was blushing, but they were embarrassing. Of course, true to form, Fredo verbally declared that Savino’s blushing was the most adorable thing he’d ever seen, which was flattering, but the kind of compliment he was much more accustomed to hearing in private, not in front of literally the entire world. Romano’s face was so warm that he probably could have fried an egg on it.

Savino glared weakly at his boyfriend. “You’re only making it worse, asshole.”

“I’m only being honest, babe,” Alfred said plainly, like it was no big deal. “Everyone here can see how cute and handsome you are.”

Savino couldn’t help it. With Alfred saying sappy things like that and looking at him like he hung the moon, he cracked a smile. Alfred grinned back at him. They continued staring into each other’s eyes as Germany stood up from his chair and attempted to get the meeting back under control.

“Unless anyone has any further surprise announcements, I’m going to begin my presentation.”

America quit staring at him for about half a second to acknowledge what Germany had said. “I think we’re good, dude.”

Once Germany started talking, Romano did his best to pay attention. He took a few notes, idly sketched in his notebook, and glanced up to roll his eyes fondly whenever he felt America gazing at him like the obvious dork he was.

Eventually, it was time for the scheduled lunch break. As Romano was packing up his things, he overheard Poland telling Hungary that he was totally going to wear a pink sequined dress to the next world meeting, because America shouldn’t be the only one getting to wear whatever they wanted. Hungary laughed and said he had a point.

Alfred started to come around the other side of the table, and Feli nudged his shoulder and smirked. “I’ll have lunch with Germany today. That way you and your ragazzo can have some alone time.”

Savino could only stammer out a couple syllables before his little brother was rushing off to catch up with Germany. As Feli was latching onto the macho potato’s arm, Alfred slipped into the space beside him. “Hey, Vinny.”

“Hey, caro.” He glanced up and down Alfred’s body, then smirked as he looked up into his eyes. “Interesting outfit.”

Alfred blushed and smiled, shyer than he would have in front of anyone else. “You like it? I stumbled across it online when I was looking for something else, and it called out to me, like the stuff Billy Mays used to sell in infomercials. I had to buy it.”

Savino snorted. “It is very… you. I wouldn’t have expected to see it at a world meeting, though.”

Alfred fidgeted with the hem of his jacket sleeve and glanced away with a worried look on his face. “It was okay that I told everyone about us today, right? Before we went in, Mattie said I probably should’ve consulted with you beforehand, but I’ve just been so happy and proud to be with you, and I didn’t want to have to hide it anymore. I didn’t even think to—”

Savino gently took hold of his hand, which stopped his boyfriend’s nervous babbling. “It’s okay. I’m glad you felt comfortable enough to come out today. And knowing you, I figured that loud, public declarations would be part of the deal sooner or later.”

Alfred chuckled and laced their fingers together. His smile was equal parts relieved and adoring. “Okay, cool. Glad I didn’t mess that up too badly. Are you free for lunch?”

Savino huffed out a laugh. “Feli just ditched me for the potato bastard so I could have ‘alone time’ with you.”

Alfred giggled. “That’s really nice of him. I feel like I owe your brother a million dollars.”

They continued chatting back and forth, and Romano wasn’t sure if it was Alfred’s gleeful, lovestruck tone, his sweet words, or the fact that they were holding hands, but he felt warm and content as they went into the elevator and as they left the building and walked down the sidewalk together. He held Alfred’s hand until they took a table at the restaurant, because he was just as proud to be in this relationship as Alfred was, even if he was more inclined to show it with body language than rainbow colored business suits.

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creek4lifeman · 4 years

Text

One of those days

Here’s another Creek fic for you guys that I made art for.

Title: One Of Those Days Rating: T Pairing: Tweek X Craig Characters: Craig Tucker, Tweek Tweak, Mrs. Tweak Tags: Canon Complaint, AKA they’re in 4th grade, Craig POV, Mild Language, Mentions of Anxiety and Mental health issues, Coloring books, Fake Tattoos, Fluff, Dorks in love, One shot, Tweek’s parents are clueless, Art in fic Summary: Tweek is having a bad day and Craig goes to visit in order to be there for him. Even if that just happens to be coloring and giving each other fake tattoos.

Read below the cut

Craig knows it’s going to be one of those days when Tweek doesn’t show up to school. Craig’s used to it at this point, but it still never sits well with him whenever the desk next to him is empty. He’ll never admit it out loud, but it’s days like these that unsettle him the most and he finds himself missing the sound of his boyfriend trying his best to keep quiet or the way he can’t sit still to save his life.

It’s the consistency mostly, Craig tells himself or at least that’s the conclusion he’s come to. He’s just plain and boring Craig, who lives by schedule and likes to keep it that way. When Tweek can’t go to school, they don’t meet up at their locker in the morning so that they can hold hands to the cafeteria for breakfast and when that happens, well, Craig’s whole day is then thrown off completely.

The only constant on days like these are that if Craig doesn’t get detention, which chances of that are much higher on the days Tweek isn’t in school, then he immediately heads to his boyfriend’s house as soon as he leaves the building.

Today, it’s Mrs. Tweak that answers the door.

“Well, hello Craig. Are you here to see Tweek?”

Of course he is.

No matter how often he shows up on days like these, the Tweaks always stare at him in awe when he shows up. Almost as if they wonder why Craig would show up when Tweek is like this. Which only pisses Craig off even more at how terrible his significant other’s parents are.

“Yes, ma’m. Is he okay?” Craig manages to ask between gritted teeth. He already knows what her answer is going to be too. But if it’s the best way to get permission to enter, then Craig’s going to put in the effort.

“Oh, he’s fine honey. Tweek’s just going through one of his usual fits. Nothing to worry about,” she says with her plastic smile.

Craig clenches his fist but carries on. “He is? Then can I go up and see him?”

Mrs. Tweak hestates, like she always does. As if she’s afraid to be caught in her lie. Craig doesn’t know why Tweek’s parents act like everything is always fine, when it’s not. Maybe they are ashamed of Tweek and his bad days. He will never know and maybe he’d have been turned away if he was any other person.

But he’s Tweek’s boyfriend, and the Tweak’s absolutely adore Craig for making their only son a homosexual. As if Craig had any say in that. A gay son made Tweek more interesting and by that reasoning, made the Tweak’s more interesting. So now Tweek Bros Coffee gets more business and because of that Craig will always have special privileges, such as being invited in on a bad day

“Come on in Craig. I’m sure seeing you will make him snap right out of it.”

Mrs. Tweak opens the door wide and Craig has to pinch his leg to keep himself from snapping at her that it doesn't work that way.

Unlike the Tweaks, Craig has done his research on mental illness and while he’s come to accept that he can’t fix everything, It took him a lot of hard days to realise that as well, at least Craig knows a few techniques he can try.

Taking the steps, two at a time, Craig makes it up the stairs in no time. He reaches the room with a guinea pig poster, an anniversary gift from Craig, and knocks in a familiar song like pattern before opening the door. It their way of communicating to each other that they are visiting each other’s house. That and it prevents Tweek from panicking when the door suddenly opens.

“Nnnngh!”

His honey is bent over in concentration at his desk, a crayon in his hand sweeping across a booklet he doesn’t recognize. Tweek mutters for a moment more before screeching and tossing the yellow crayon across the room.

Wild eyes turn to face Craig and it takes the boy only a few seconds to access the situation. Tweek waits for Craig to say something, anything. Craig knows better though. Tweek doesn’t need Craig to tell him everything is going to be fine. He doesn’t speak. Instead, Craig opens up his arms and it’s so worth it when his boyfriend smiles, even shakingly, and then throws himself across the room to wrap his arms around Craig’s neck in a warm embrace.

“Hey Babe, I missed you in school today.”

“S-sorry Craig, I just couldn’t today,” Tweek groaned as he slumped further into Craig’s shoulder.

“It’s fine dude. You don’t have to apologize for that.”

It felt nice having his boyfriend in his arms. It didn’t exactly make up for missing him all day but it did come super close.

Tweek leaned back and reluctantly Craig let him go.

“It was those damn underpant gnomes man! They kept me up all night trying to explain their profit system again and I-”

“Tweek,” Craig interrupted and after saying his name twice, his honey paused mid sentence to gape at him.

“Relax. You don’t have to explain,” he assured Tweek but then remembered that sometimes talking is exactly what Tweek needs, “..unless it helps?”

“I-it does, but now it’s too much pressure to explain,” Tweek replied after taking a moment to consider Craig’s words.

Craig didn’t pressure him though. Instead, he grabbed Tweek’s hand and led him back to the desk he’d been furiously working on.

“Okay babe, then how about you explain what you were doing before I came in?”

Craig reached out towards the book spread open with different crayons littered all over it and saw that Tweek had been coloring in stars and planets.

Is this…

“A space themed coloring book?” Craig ended up saying out loud.

“Y-yeah, I was trying to color before you got here. My therapist said it could help, b-but I can’t seem to stay in the lines."

True to his word, Tweek had gone off and messed up in some areas, but Craig didn’t care. He was too entranced by the fact that Tweek had doodled them standing together on a planet while holding hands. That and well, what’s more awesome than a space themed coloring book?

“C-can I have this picture when you’re done?” Craig practically whispered but there was no denying the need in his voice. He never wanted anything more this moment.

“What!?” Tweek shrieked, “Why dude? It sucks!”

“No it doesn’t,” Craig immediately defended the piece of work. It may not be perfect to Tweek but to Craig it was. “I like it, so I want it.”

“Ngh, I don’t know man...”

Tweek reached out for the coloring book and Craig let him have it. Not wanting his selfishness to lead to a panic attack In fact, he had an idea to help him convince Tweek.

“Then how about this, I color one for you and you finish coloring this one for me?”

Tweek’s eyes widened in shock before staring back down at the coloring book and pulling it close to his chest. “Oh jesus, you really want this that bad?”

Craig rolled his eyes at being called out like that but didn’t say anything to deny it either. “Don’t act like you don’t want one of mine either.”

“F-fine!” Tweek squeaked, his cheeks turning pink and a small smile crawling up his cheeks. “But you have to cut out the page so that I can finish and so that y-you can pick out whatever you want, man.”

“Okay.” Craig easily agreed. He grabbed the pair of scissors stored in the cup full of other writing utensils before carefully cutting out Tweek’s page. They each set up a coloring station, aka Tweek at his desk while Craig took the floor, with crayons, color pencils, and snacks that were brought up by Mrs. Tweak.

Craig flipped through the pages until he got to the center and found that there was a sheet full of space themed stickers. No wait, he was wrong. These were those fake tattoos that applied to the skin with water.

So cool!

Craig cut them out for later and continued searching until he settled on an awesome rocketship shooting through the sky. Immediately he drew a version of himself and Tweek in the window. It wasn’t as great as his boyfriend’s depiction of them, but it would have to do. After that, he picked up a blue color pencil and began to fill in the area around the ship to make it look more like outer space.

After a couple of minutes, Tweek stopped what he was working on to turn to Craig.

“Thanks…”

Craig paused as well to stare at his boyfriend. Unsure of what exactly he was being thanked for. Maybe his confusion is written all over his face because Tweek continues.

“For coming over to color with me.”

Oh.

Craig tried his best not to smile.

“No problem, honey. Is it helping?”

Tweek swiveled back towards his page to avoid facing him with what Craig assumes is another blush on Tweek’s face before nodding towards the wall.

This fills Craig with joy as they spend the next couple of minutes coloring in a peaceful silence.

That is until he hears his boyfriend groaning again in distress. It starts off with a couple noises here and there but then it turns into full on frustrated growling after ten minutes.

“Babe? You okay?”

Craig looks at his boyfriend in concern, only to see him snapping a purple crayon in half.

So, not okay.

He gets up and calmly collects the broken pieces from Tweek’s hands and places his free palm against his boyfriend’s cheek.

There’s tears in those emerald eyes and it immediately makes Craig’s heart fall.

“What’s wrong honey?”

Tweek shoves the paper as far away from him, almost practically ripping it in two before glaring holes in the now bare table in front of him.

“I just can’t gah get the color to look right dammit!”

Craig frowns before using his palm to turn Tweek’s head to face him.

“Alright, then how about we take a break and come back to it later?”

Tweek blinks at him before replying.

“And do what?”

This time, Craig doesn’t hold back his smile at the adorably curious but pouty look his boyfriend gives him.

“How about we give each other Tattoos?”

Tweek screams.

“Craig! We can’t ngh give each other tattoos! We don't know how or have the right tools! What if I get ink poisoning? That’s a thing right? Or worse! Infected!”

Wait what?

Craig is at a loss of words until it hits him what Tweek is actually talking about.

Real tattoos.

He literally has to grab the tattoo sheet and show Tweek what he means in order to get him to calm down. When he finally understands that the tattoos are fake, Tweek takes a deep breath and stops shaking so hard.

“All better, babe?”

“Y-yeah.” Tweek stutters as he takes the sheet and looks over the options. “You want to wear these?”

Craig scoffs, “Uh yeah, they’re space themed. Of course, I do.”

Tweek giggles before pointing at a space helmet tattoo. “You should do this one.”

“Because I’m Spaceman Craig?”

“Yep,” Tweek nods before reaching for his scissors to cut out said tattoo. “Where do you want it?

“Hmm, how about on my face?”

“Okay!”

Tweek stands up and leads them to the bathroom so that they can wet a towel with warm water to use as a compress and make the tattoo work. As soon as they are done with Craig’s, the helmet comes out perfectly, it’s Tweek’s turn.

“Can I pick yours?”

“Uh maybe?” Tweek says sounding unsure, “What were you thinking?” Craig looks over the sheet before settling on a rocket. Just like the one Tweek keeps in his room and points at it.

“That one.”

Tweek smiles before agreeing and points to his own cheek so that Craig knows where to place it.

They go back and forth, placing fake tattoos on each other until Tweek points at a pair of stars and suggests, “We should each get one in the same place to match.”

It’s cheesy but it’s also the most romantic thing Craig’s ever heard of and he agrees without missing a heartbeat.

They both decide to wear their matching star in a place that can’t wash off so easily. This just happens to be on their upper arm.

They spend the rest of the day covered in tattoos and coloring. When Craig has to go home and shower, he makes sure to avoid rubbing off the star tattoo.

When the next day comes and he finds Tweek at school showing off the star tattoo to Token, Jimmy and Clyde, Craig can’t help but feel a swell of pride in his chest and the hope that one day in the future they can get a permanent matching one.

End

#Tweek Tweak #Craig Tucker #SP Creek #south park creek #south park #creek #creek sp

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captainscanadian · 4 years

Text

Star Crossed | Chris Beck x Reader (Moonshine)

My Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Summary: It’s Chris Beck’s 21st birthday and he’s drunk on moonshine.

Word Count: 1200+

Pairing: College!Chris Beck x Reader

Warnings: Mild Swearing, Alcohol, One Dorky & Drunk 21 year old Christopher Beck

A/N: After stalling for a whole year, I finally wrote the second instalment of this non-linear one shot series. The concept was inspired by @baezen‘s It’s Time (seriously, go read it!). Dedicated to my darlings @nasabeck and @dramadreamer14! I had to get this part out in time for his 21st birthday, which is on August 2nd, 2020. Let’s all wish one space nerd a very happy birthday!

“I love you, Moonshine!” Chris Beck let out a giggle at his own words, which was followed by a hiccup. “Oh yeah… you’re my Moonshine.” He stressed the last word, an obvious pun that his drunken self had thought to be quite genius.

Of course, it was genius. It had two meanings: he was drunk on moonshine, just as he was in love with his Moonshine. Only if NASA could see how smart he really was, he figured that they would indeed hire him right on the spot.

You rolled your eyes at his words, tightening your grip around his torso as the two of you walked along the sidewalk, constantly tripping over the pavement thanks to his wobble. Why must it be so hard for him to walk in a straight line while he was drunk?

The task of dragging your boyfriend back to his childhood home was not seeming to be a one’s man job as you had expected it would be. Who would have known that he would make such an annoying drunk?

As it was his twenty-first birthday, you had decided to head out for drinks with some of your friends from high school. Being back in Hartford for the summer after passing your MCATs, the two of you had agreed to use the time off to recharge yourselves before your senior year of college.

While Chris had found himself a job at the Travelers ScienceDome Planetarium, you had started volunteering at the local children’s hospital. Both of you were on the right track with your respective career paths, your dreams now a step closer to becoming a reality. You’ll become an immunologist and he’ll become a flight surgeon. That had always been your plan, ever since the two of you had first met five years ago.

“Oh I know how much you love moonshine, Christopher.” You let out a sigh as you finally reached the Beck residence, which was just down the street from your own childhood home. But you had already informed your parents that you were spending the night with Chris, as it was his birthday after all.

They never minded you spending so much time at his house, as the two of you had been study buddies spending the night at each other’s houses long before you had even given in to your feelings and started dating at the end of high school.

“And now I’ve got to get you into the house without waking up your parents. I guess I better call Amy ‘cause this is not a one man’s job.” Reaching into your pocket to grab your phone, you called your boyfriend’s younger sister.

Amy Beck was furious to have been woken up from her beauty sleep, not at you for requesting her assistance in getting Chris safely inside but at her brother for having gotten pissed drunk on his birthday. She had somehow assumed that he would be a much more responsible drunk. But that turned out to be false when she found him lying flat on his face in their front lawn.

“Oh dear God, what have you done to my brother?!”

You looked up at her in disbelief. “He had too much moonshine.”

“Moonshine?” She raised her eyebrow at her brother’s choice of his first legal drink. “Why am I not fucking surprised?”

“I do love one space nerd.” You declared as you walked over to grab his right arm, Amy taking his left. Lifting him off of the lawn, the two of you dragged him inside of the house and up the stairs.

“MOONSHINE-”

“SHH!” Amy was quick to place her free hand over his mouth. “You’re going to wake up mom and dad, you idiot! If that happens, your ass is grass.”

His mouth stayed shut until you reached his bedroom, his drunken words turning into inaudible muffles, thanks to his sister.

“Okay, I got him from here. Thanks, Amy.” You gave her a nod of gratitude once you reached upstairs.

“Moonshine…” Chris mumbled as the two of you entered his bedroom.

“Hm…”

“I love you.” He let out a giggle, his hands clutching onto your waist as he dropped onto his bed and pulled you on top of him.

“Christopher!” You groaned. “Shut up, you’re drunk. Just let me get you out of these clothes and into the shower, okay? Let me go.”

He shook his head. “Nope! Never...” He looked up at you with his bloodshot eyes, another giggle escaped his lips. “I’m never going to let you go, Moonshine.”

“Stop calling me Moonshine!” You rolled your eyes as you got out of his grip, climbing out his bed and walking over to his closet to grab him a change of clothes. “I really don’t like being nicknamed after an alcoholic beverage that you seem to have had too much of.”

“Fine… no more Moonshine.” Chris whined, his lips curling into a pout as he stared at the glow in the dark stars that his mother had covered his ceiling with when he was a young boy, going through what she had thought was a space phase until he had grown into it. Even into his adolescence, he didn’t have it in him to remove them. Falling asleep under the stars was a dream that seemed so distant. “How about… Stardust?”

You let out a sigh of defeat as you grabbed a pair of pyjama shorts for him to change into and walked back to him. “I’m starting to think that you love space more than you love me, Beck.” You thought you were joking, but you really weren’t. At one point, you did think that he loved space more than you. You just hadn’t realized it back then.

“Lies…” He shook his head quickly. “I love you, Moonshine.”

“Stardust.” You corrected him, shaking your head as you laughed at just how drunk he really was. You started to find it more adorable than annoying. “Come on now, let’s get you in the shower.”

“Fine.” He gave in, pouting once again and holding out his hand.

You grabbed onto his hand and pulled him up, dragging him over to the bathroom. “Shower and get dressed quick, okay?”

He gave you a nod and gave you a thumbs up. “Yes, ma’am.” Scratching the back of his head, he closed the door behind him. “I love you so much, my Moonshine!”

Though you didn’t say it back, you couldn’t deny that you did love him back. You loved this dork more than anything in this world. You even loved him more than immunology.

Though he was a few years older now, he was still the same Christopher Beck whom you had befriended during your junior year of high school. You had both grown up since that chance meeting four years ago now. But you were still each other’s best friends. Even though you now shared a lot more intimacy, you just hoped that the two of you would remain best friends for the rest of your lives. Life would suck otherwise.

Life did suck otherwise, but you didn’t realize that until you found yourself getting drunk on moonshine during Chris’ birthdays while he was in space. Maybe you shouldn’t have let him go. Maybe you should have. Could things have been any different? Would the stars have been aligned differently?

Were you really his Moonshine? You didn’t know anymore. You wanted to believe that he still loved you even more than he loved the stars. But you knew that it was far from the truth. The two of you were just star crossed lovers, bound to fall apart.

#moonshine #Star-crossed #star crossed #aj writes #chris beck x reader #chris beck imagine #chris beck fanfiction #dr chris beck #chris beck #dr chris beck x reader #The Martian

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kbstories · 4 years

Text

Signification

sig·ni·fi·ca·tion (n.) The process of assigning meaning to something.

Captain and First Mate, two years later.

(Or: Zoro adores his captain a lot, the sequel)

Tags: Reunions, Nakamaship, Late Night Conversations, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Platonic Cuddling (!)

Read Chapter 1 here. Set in Wano. Spoiler warning for the First Act of Wano.

***

The night must be scratching the midnight mark when the ambient noise of the Wasteland finally falls silent. Within Tsuru’s tea house, all that can be heard is Tama’s breathing, soft and even in her slumber, and the quiet sound of cloth on metal.

One by one, Roronoa Zoro cleans his swords, hands in constant motion and mind calm. The girl is at his back, the only entrance straight ahead.

Little has changed in the past hour.

Shusui is the last to go, its black blade speckled with blood and residue bits of straw. In the dim light afforded by the lamp next to him, Zoro’s eye runs along the sharpened edge with precision. No scratches, no tears, no damage whatsoever.

Zoro’s mouth twitches upwards. Good.

The blade sings under his care as it accepts the oil and the gentle swipe of fabric that follows it. Zoro doesn’t have to ponder each individual step – his body has executed these very same movements for most of his life – but being mindful of it… helps, on days both good and bad.

Beside him, a door slides open with the whisper of paper on wood. Shuffling steps come closer, straw against straw. Today has been an excellent day.

“Still asleep”, Zoro reports without looking up from his task. “Fever’s getting better, too.”

A hand settles on his shoulder; it’s warm, fitting the mountains and valleys of Zoro’s muscles like it always belongs there. After a bit of shuffling, a back nudges his own.

Zoro smiles and continues. He’s almost done.

“That tea really worked, huh? I’m glad.”

Leaning against Zoro, Luffy isn’t much of a weight but significant still. He sounds exhausted, now that it’s just the two of them.

“Yeah. Still, Chopper should take a look.” A beat. Zoro hums. “…Wherever he is right now.”

A huff of breath, the kind that precedes a smile. “He’s safe, don’t worry. Sanji’s with him and the others.”

Zoro sheathes Shusui and sets it aside. Hm. Luffy’s head comes to rest against his right shoulder, his hair feathering across Zoro’s skin. It’s crusty with dried salt and carries the scent of the sea.

“You’re really not gonna ask, are ya?”

Jackass. “He’s here. ‘s all I need to know.”

Luffy snickers, as he always does.

“Stubborn. Well, there’s no need to fuss. Sanji apologized and everything. He made that sea king rice stuff, you know the one?” Zoro does. Luffy’s stomach growls. “So yummy…”

Fantasizing about food won’t do them much good. Zoro lets his head knock against Luffy’s (carefully, although his captain is rubber and there’s no real need to). I’m not fussing, he doesn’t say.

They have bigger fish to fry than their moronic cook. It’s… good to know he’s back, regardless.

Luffy hums under his breath, sounding sleepier by the minute. “How’s everyone? You guys got here okay?”

“Yeah, we’re good. Got a bit cramped in Traffy’s submarine but we managed.” An amused chuckle falls from Zoro’s mouth. “Turns out the Hearts are just a bunch of dorks. Strong and loyal but… I don’t know what I expected, with a captain that cynical.”

“Hah! Traffy’s a dork, too.”

“True.”

They share a grin, quick and easy. Personally, Zoro can’t wait for the two captains to meet again; seeing Law so full of himself and not a perpetual hair’s breadth away from strangling someone was pretty boring, all things considered.

Then Luffy exhales a sigh, content. “He’s got his crew back, though. That’s good.”

And perhaps it’s because they haven’t seen each other in weeks, haven’t had time to sit like this and exist for a while – Zoro hears a touch of melancholy in there, too, and sympathy twists at his core.

“Let’s find the others tomorrow, ‘kay? Without, uh, wrecking Kin’emon’s plan.”

Luffy nods against Zoro’s shoulder, a gentle motion. “Mhmm.”

The night ticks on. The need to move builds slowly, a numb tingling that crawls up his legs like a colony of ants, and yet Zoro sits patiently. Luffy is quiet for a while, dozes off, startles himself awake again.

“It’s past midnight”, Zoro tells him.

Luffy mumbles something resembling an affirmative. Zoro raises a brow, even though the other can’t see it. Who’s the stubborn one now?

“Go to sleep, Captain. I’m on first watch, remember?”

“No… Wanna talk t’Zoro.”

Zoro sighs and he doesn’t fight the way those words that curl themselves around his heart, warm and safe. Luffy could do terrifying things with that sweet-talking of his: a downright absurd thought, given the guy can barely tell manipulation from truth even when his life depends on it.

“I’m not going anywhere, idiot. Let’s talk in the morning.”

Nothing.

“Luffy.”

“Mmm?”

“I mean it.”

A long, whiny exhale. “Fine but you gotta come with me.”

“Sure”, Zoro nods. He blinks. “Wait, what do y–?”

And just like that, Luffy’s up and wrapping an arm multiple times around Zoro’s waist. Before he can as much as squawk, Zoro is lifted effortlessly as if he’s a lazy, overgrown dog – he has to pick up his legs so they don’t drag noisily across the tatami mat floor and oh, mutiny is suddenly such an appealing concept. Zoro hisses, “Luffy”, low and indignant; Luffy’s laugh is hushed, breathed right against his ear–

My swords, it’s a stray thought, an important one if he’s to do his duty properly. Zoro pats Luffy’s hand with some urgency. One rubber-stretched grab later, the swords are clutched safely against his chest.

A few feet from where Tama’s sleeping off her fever, two neatly-folded futons wait to be claimed; Zoro is deposited on one of them (which immediately topples under his weight, only his quick reflexes preventing an ungraceful fall). He witnesses Luffy destroy Tsuru’s hard work by half-heartedly spreading his own mattress-and-duvet combination, burrowing into the covers like a hog through forest ground.

With one final huff, Luffy stills. Sleepy, half-lidded eyes shine in the dark.

“…Zoro?”

Scratching his neck, Zoro sets out to fix his own futon. He folds it out against Luffy’s, quiet hands working to smooth out the ruffles and tuck in the edges there as he goes. Carefully, Zoro reaches into the pile of blankets that is Luffy to pull out the hat that’s been haplessly smooshed in the process. It’s placed on the very edge of Luffy’s bed, within easy reach.

Eyes closed, Luffy makes a pleased noise and snuggles into his pillow. Zoro huffs fondly and ruffles his hair.

“I’m right here. Rest.”

Luffy drops off to sleep a moment after and so Zoro settles in for the night, pillow propped against a nearby wall next to his swords and a blanket thrown over his crossed legs.

The sky lightens with the tender touches of dawn and Zoro shifts, pulls away from deep meditation to hear the change in Luffy’s breathing. Snoring is followed by a sudden snort and drowsy mumbling.

Monkey D. Luffy always wakes with the sun, no matter over which horizon it rises.

Just in time, too, with how heavy Zoro’s lids feel every time he blinks. Suppressing a yawn, he rolls his neck and stretches his back, and his spine pops between his shoulders. The last remnant of battle along with the satisfying ache in his arms and hands – it’s been a while since Zoro got to draw a sword and mean it.

Tama is still snoozing and thus Zoro doesn’t bother to get on his feet properly. Half-shuffling, half-crawling, he leans over the crown of Luffy’s head. “Oi.”

“Huh?” Luffy glances up through tousled strands. His grin is immediate, a little crinkled with sleep. “Oh. My turn!”

Mhm, Zoro makes around a small smile.

It’s been awhile since it was just them and nobody else yet this routine is still familiar: Luffy grabs his hat and hops to his feet, going from slumber to fully awake in seconds, and Zoro takes his place, choosing Luffy’s pre-warmed futon over his own. He has about a minute to get comfortable before – oof – Luffy throws himself against his side, arms crossed and elbows digging into Zoro’s ribs and midriff respectively.

“Captain”, Zoro grumbles.

“Uncomfortable?”

“… No.”

Luffy chuckles. “Zoro’s going easy on me.”

“Don’t get used to it.”

“Missed ya too”, Luffy sing-songs, and Zoro doesn’t have to look to know he’s grinning, the cheeky bastard.

After that, Luffy keeps himself busy, tinkering with Zoro’s earrings for a moment before he turns to the back of Zoro’s hand to doodle mindless circles with his finger. Breath by breath, Zoro finds himself slipping closer and closer to sleep.

“Ace was here, y’know?”

Luffy says it in such a casual, pensive way, like it’s just like the other tidbits of information Zoro missed out on. Zoro’s eye opens. He’s wide awake.

“He and his crew reached Wano, years ago. Tama told me. People were starving then too and Ace helped them.”

There’s something fragile about this, about the morning light barely starting to spill into the room and the loving way Luffy speaks of his brother. Something precious, and nothing in the world could bring Zoro to interrupt Luffy now.

“Tama wants to sail to sea, did you know that?” Round and round, Luffy draws invisible lines on Zoro’s skin. “Ace promised he’d come back and take her along when she’s older. And a ninja! That’s important.”

The mental image of sweet Tama as a ruthless ninja is a little out there but who is Zoro to judge? She’s certainly brave enough for it but–

Oh, Ace. Quietly, Zoro wonders how old he was at the time. If he, too, was barely past seventeen when started leaving a trail of reckless promises in the hopes of living another day.

It’s then that Luffy pauses, his chest moving against Zoro’s with the slow breath he inhales. Zoro breathes with him, bracing for impact.

“But… Ace is gone. I told her, and she got angry with me.” Walking the line of that old heartache, Luffy laughs and doesn’t break. “She said I don’t know what I’m talking about. It’s better this way, I think.”

Finally, Luffy’s hand stills. Calmly, Zoro offers him his palm instead; Luffy continues with an amused huff, tracing along the deep creases and old scars there.

“What do you think, Zoro? About Tama.”

Years, they have known each other. For Luffy, there’s a great many things Zoro is willing to indulge in – here, at the break of a new day and with the life of a child hanging in the balance, Luffy isn’t asking for indulgence.

Thus Zoro says, “Ace was right”, voice a little raspy this long into his watch. “Children don’t belong at sea.”

Luffy hums and mumbles, “Yeah.” He doesn’t sound particularly surprised. “I want to help them, Zoro. The people of this town, this country. Nobody deserves to cry over bean soup.”

And oh, the anger that seethes within Zoro wells up at that, patiently waiting to be unleashed – an ice-blue fire that burns at his core, fed by the notion of a land poisoned to its very rivers and all the injustices he’s witnessed.

“We will”, he promises his captain, because Ace’s family is Luffy’s family and that makes Tama theirs. It’s how it’s always been. “We’ll get that shitty cook to throw ‘em a feast after, too.”

Luffy nods enthusiastically. “A big one!”

Zoro chuckles. Yawning, he turns into his pillow, eye sliding shut. “With lots of sake.”

With the sound of Luffy’s laughter in the air, he finally allows himself to drift off. That morning, Zoro’s dreams are filled with the smiles of his crew and Sunny's full sails, a new horizon coming ever-closer.

#one piece #roronoa zoro #monkey d. luffy #zolu #fanfiction #one piece fanfiction #hello i'm still soft for these two #this fic is also on AO3!#my stuff #980 got me all kinds of emotional about this lmao what perfect timing

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chroniccombustion · 4 years

Text

Things I’ll Never Say

From “And a Week is All I Need (To Fall in Love With You)“, part of @souyoweek2020

Genre: romance, mutual pining, dorks in love, M/M Rated: K+ Characters: Souji Seta (Yu Narukami), Hanamura Yosuke, Tatsumi Kanji, brief Dojima Nanako cameo Warnings: mild language Status: drabble collection, incomplete

<- previous chapter | next chapter ->

(song the title is from)

Day 2: Yosuke’s Birthday or Sunny

“Kanji...” he whispers, voice hoarse and cracking slightly at the end. “The other day, when you came over... was there a stack of colored envelopes on my desk?”

Confused silence greets him for a moment. Then, “Uh.... I think so? Pretty sure I remember seein' it.” He paused. “Why? Did I leave it there or somethin'? I swear I thought I grabbed it with the rest of the gifts...”

Souji's heart goes plummeting through his feet. “You... grabbed that one, too...?”

“This everything, Senpai?”

Souji looks up from where he's busy tucking a birthday card into a burnt-orange envelope – one that he folded extra-special just for this purpose. Grey eyes scan over the pile of other cards and small packages resting on his desk, taking stock of everything to make sure it's all there. After a moment he nods. “It should be, yeah.”

He stands from his spot behind the low work table and takes a moment to smile quietly down at the envelope in his hands before turning a wider smile towards the person standing across the room. “Thanks again, Kanji,” he says warmly, and the way the taller boy blushes faintly isn't lost on him. It's cute, Souji thinks, and maybe in another timeline where he wasn't already hopelessly in love with someone else, he might very well have been able to return the crush he knows his friend has on him. But that's neither here nor there, and as it stands Souji knows all too well how it feels to have his affections go unreturned. Even if he's much better at hiding them than Kanji is.

The punk mumbles something Souji can't quite make out but thinks might be a, “don't gotta thank me.”

He laughs quietly, gently. “I mean it,” he says, “there's no way I'd be able to hide all this where Yosuke wouldn't find it somehow; my room, ah...” He glances around with a soft chuckle, waving a hand at the open space. “I don't really have a lot of extra storage.”

Kanji looks like he's about to reply – probably to wave off Souji's thanks again – but anything he might have said is interrupted by a sweet voice calling from downstairs. “Onii-chan!” The sound of small footsteps padding down the hallway precedes a gentle knock at the door. “Onii-chan? Are you home?”

Souji chuckles, affectionate and soft, and calls, “I'm home. Come on in.”

Nanako needs no further invitation. The door swings open and a pigtailed head peeks in, brown eyes bright. “Onii-chan, Daddy says he's coming home tonight! Will you help me make dinner? Oh!” she gasps, pure delight spreading over her face as she spots kanji near the desk. “Hello!” She looks over at a still-smiling Souji, then back to Kanji, and practically beams. “Are you staying for dinner, too?”

“Would you like to?” Souji asks, quieter than his exuberant little sister but no less genuine. It's been a while since anyone other than Yosuke has been over in the evenings, and Souji finds he wouldn't mind at all if his rough-around-the-edges underclassman stayed and let Souji feed him. After all, Kanji agreed to hiding the pile of birthday gifts so Yosuke doesn't go snooping through his partner's room for them (though Souji is still a little irritated as to just why he knows Yosuke won't be poking around at Kanji's house to look for gifts). At the very least, he'd like to do something to show Kanji his thanks, since the blond doesn't seem inclined to let him say it.

But Kanji has gone from blushing to an odd shade of purple, fingers scratching as the back of his own hair as he ducks his head to the side and down. Souji at first interprets this as 'cuteness overload', because honestly, who does Nanako not have that effect on? But no. Rather than mutter about how adorable Nanako is like he usually does, Souji hears Kanji instead mutter something unintelligible – with the only discernible words being “Dojima” and “staring at me.” And oh. Well. Souji is disappointed, yes, but he does understand; if his uncle weren't coming home then Kanji likely would have agreed, but there is still an awkwardness between the pair of them, mostly out of yet-unbroken habit. So Souji just gives his friend a knowing smile and says, “You need to get home, don't you?” When Kanji looks up at him, Souji nods in gentle understanding. “Your mom?” he adds, giving the other boy an out that won't alert Nanako.

Kanji's eyes widen for a moment as he catches on, then straightens. “Y-yeah!” he says a bit too loud and a bit too quick. “I mean! My ma's probably waitin' on me.”

Nanako visibly deflates and Kanji looks like he's ready to combust, so once again, Souji steps in. “It's alright,” he says at them both as he reaches down to ruffle Nanako's hair. “Another night this week, maybe?” He quirks a stormy-grey brow, lips twitching upwards in a tiny smirk. “I'll bring leftovers for lunch tomorrow, too; you should come sit with me.”

And oh, if Kanji's face doesn't simultaneously light up and flush a bright, dusty red at that. “Ah heck yeah!” he manages to crow past his blush, and it's absolutely great. Souji has to bite back a triumphant smile because he will feed his friend in thanks for his help whether it be tonight or tomorrow. He'll make extra food later on if he has to, just to have enough to bring to school.

In the end, without really looking, Kanji hurriedly shovels the stack of gifts and cards into the paper sack Souji had brought out for him to use, and Souji and Nanako walk him to the front door to see him out. Kanji loiters for an extra five minutes while Nanako hugs him tightly, and Souji thanks Kanji again where he knows his friend can't really dispute the sentiment with Nanako there to back her brother up. Kanji is a good friend, and Souji almost feels bad about the taller boy's crush, what with Souji's constant need to make sure everyone around him is happy, but even if Souji can't return his kohai's affections he sure as hell can let him know he's appreciated. So with Kanji still sporting a blush and Nanako finally letting him go so he can escape, Souji says a last goodbye to the soft-hearted punk, watching him head up the road for a few moments to make sure he'll be alright heading home.

It's not until several days later that he realizes something is horribly amiss.

---

Souji's crush on his best friend started early. If asked, he wouldn't be able to put his finger on an exact date or pick out an exact event that sparked it. It just... happened. Yosuke was his partner, a new friend that Souji had hoped he'd be able to keep, but it was nothing deeper than platonic affection - until it was.

Without warning it had crept up on him, until Souji found he couldn't remember a time when he wasn't in love with the friendly brunette. Yosuke was charming, funny, kind, and despite his flaws (the least of which being the boy's uncanny ability to lodge his own foot in his mouth at the worst of times), Souji had never met another person besides Nanako that he'd clicked with so well.

Which was why it had been getting harder and harder for him to keep his feelings to himself. Back when he'd been living in the city, well before his parents had sent him to Inaba and then given in to his begging to let him stay for his final year of high school, Souji had kept a journal. Every time he'd had an emotion, a thought, a welling-up of something inside him that screamed to be let out but had no safe outlet for him to do so, Souji would sit down at his desk and pour out everything he couldn't say onto the paper. He'd filled up the entire journal within the span of a year.

So he'd started another. And then another. And then he'd moved to Inaba and quickly filled up the last half of that third journal with his secret worry over the murder cases. He'd filled another, thinner journal after that one, too, until he'd run out of both paper and fear and anger and stress to fill it with. He'd thought he was done.

But then he'd fallen in love with Yosuke.

He'd tried starting yet another journal, just to dedicate to how much he was pining (yes, pining, he could admit it to himself, at least) over the best friend he'd ever had. But after he'd finally found the perfect one, cover bright with colors like summer, he'd sat down to touch his pen to the first page and... nothing. For the first time in his life, Souji hadn't been able to put his emotions into words.

For several weeks he would try and start all over again, thinking maybe if he gave himself enough time to think more about what he wanted to say then the words would come easier. He'd get maybe a sentence or two in, reread it, and then grow frustrated with himself for yet another failed attempt. His breakthrough finally came while working on some translations for one of his part time jobs – a letter, written from a high school student to a foreign girl her family had hosted as part of an exchange program. In her letter she'd anxiously confessed her feelings, hopeful they could meet again someday. By the time he went to bed Souji had every word of the letter burned permanently into his brain, and the moment he was free from school the next day he had gone straight to the shopping district and bought himself a pretty, pastel orange stack of stationary, sunflowers drawn in delicate lines across the bottom of each page.

Writing had suddenly become much easier after that. In the form of a letter, where Souji could pretend he was talking directly to the object of his affections rather than just about, he found that he could burn through nearly a dozen pages front and back in a little under a weekend. He'd had to make two more trips to the shop to get more packs of stationary because, while pretty and perfect for inspiring words of love and hopeless devotion, the flowers on the paper were hand-drawn and so there just weren't that many sheets in the package. At some point, Souji had just given in and bought three packs at once to save himself another venture into town.

The stack of letters grew; some were short, filled with simple things like, “you smiled at me today during lunch and I nearly forgot how to breathe,” and some where longer, detailing the way the setting sun had shone behind them at the riverbank and“made you look ethereal.” As he finished them, one by one, Souji would tuck them safely away in one of his homemade envelopes – all in sunset colors and tied together in a bundle with red string. The bundle stayed on his desk, off to the side where it wouldn't be in the way but still close enough that he could reach for it to add another record of his secret love.

Which is why, three days after Kanji had left with the pile of gifts, on the evening of Yosuke's birthday, when Souji goes to write out an entire day's worth of ache and longing and reaches for the bundle of letters so he can add the newly finished one to the rest only to find it missing, he abruptly has a heart attack.

He has a second one twenty minutes later as he stands in the middle of his now gutted bedroom with absolutely no sign of them anywhere. Books and folders lay scattered from where they'd been yanked from his desk and tossed out of the way onto the futon, only for the futon to also be pulled aside and dumped haphazardly across the work table. He'd gone so far as to (quietly) pull both the couch and the desk away from the walls to see if somehow his heart on paper had been lodged between them and the furniture – all to no avail.

He stares at his ransacked surroundings, wracking his brain to try and think of any other place they could be. They wouldn't be downstairs anywhere; neither Nanako nor Dojima have any reason or desire to go through his things. They wouldn't be in his school bag, either, because Souji would sooner walk straight into the Samegawa and let it drown him than take something so dangerous and valuable anywhere near where Yosuke could happen upon it. In fact, Souji had made it a point in times past to hide the letters behind his textbooks on the desk whenever Yosuke came over, and even though Yosuke had spent plenty of time digging around for Souji's “stash,” he'd steered well clear of the study materials. No, there's no place else in the house or out of it that the bundle could be.

No place else except one.

Souji's hands are shaking so badly that he's already almost dropped the phone twice before he manages to scroll through his contacts and successfully locate the name that he prays to every single god imaginable will tell him he's wrong.

“Yo, Senpai, what's up?”

“Kanji...” he whispers, voice hoarse and cracking slightly at the end. “The other day, when you came over... was there a stack of colored envelopes on my desk?”

Confused silence greets him for a moment. Then, “Uh.... I think so? Pretty sure I remember seein' it.” He pauses. “Why? Did I leave it there or somethin'? I swear I thought I grabbed it with the rest of the gifts...”

Souji's heart goes plummeting through his feet. “You... grabbed that one, too...?”

(Nonononono, this wasn't happening, this couldn't be happening!)

Kanji hums on the other end of the speaker. “I mean, I thought I did. I didn't check the bag after I got it home, though... Is somethin' wrong, Senpai?”

Souji hears his own voice, hears himself saying, “N... no. No, nothing's wrong. Thanks, Kanji,” but he can't actually feel the words leaving his mouth. His arm falls limp against his side then, and his fingers act on muscle memory, flipping the phone closed and hanging up the call.

Okay. Okay okay okay, he thinks, trying to keep himself grounded long enough to sort through his own head. The situation is grim, yes, but not hopeless. Yosuke's birthday celebration had been earlier that evening; school had eaten up the first half of the day and both Teddie and Yukiko were on a limited time frame due to work at Junes and the inn, respectively, so there hadn't been much time to do anything other than grab an early dinner together at Aiya's. It had given Kanji and Rise time to run back home and retrieve the bag of gifts and the batch of artisan cupcakes the pop idle had special-ordered in from a shop in Okina and picked up the day before.

The Team had piled into a little corner in the restaurant, laughing and eating and wishing their friend a happy birthday until it was time for Yukiko and Teddie to leave, with Chie offering to escort her girlfriend home. Up until that point, though, they'd all been so busy that Yosuke had forgotten to open any of his presents. And so, not wanting to open anything without the whole group there for him to thank, he'd decided to just take the sack home with him for the time being, with everyone agreeing to meet up at Souji's place the next day after school for Birthday Dinner Round 2.

So. The bad news: Yosuke more than likely has Souji's stack of love letters that were never meant to see the light of day. Alright. Yes. That is utterly goddamn terrifying.

The good news, however, is that he hadn't opened them before, and probably won't open them until they all get together tomorrow. There is still a chance that Souji could get them back without incident – either by waiting until Yosuke is distracted and sneaking the letters back out of the sack of presents, or by telling Yosuke the partial truth, that Kanji had grabbed something by mistake and could I have those back, please, Partner? Yosuke didn't have to know what they were; Souji could simply say that they were letters from his parents from over the years of them being away while Souji stayed either alone or with other people.

Only... Shit. Yosuke already knows that Souji's parents don't actually write to him. Maybe he could say they were from years ago and he was keeping them for sentimentality's sake and putting them in pretty new envelopes. Or! He could say it's stuff he wrote to them but never sent, because that was marginally closer to the truth, wasn't it? But all of that could be a last resort if he isn't able to just steal the letters back and---!

Someone is calling him.

Souji's careening train of thought comes to a screeching halt as his phone begins to vibrate in his hand, the quiet chirping of his ringtone now like a shout into his ears.

He winches, both from the noise and from the whiplash of being sucked back out of his own head, and, on reflex, he brings the offending piece of technology up to his face to look at the screen.

And then immediately jerks back in panic and chucks his phone across the room where it lands on the futon now decorating his work table.

“Oh god no...”

Yosuke is calling him.

Yosuke is calling him and Souji has no plan of action and no way of knowing if he's already too late to stop the tidal wave of destruction that may or may not be headed his way, and ohhhhh he's hyperventilating now, isn't he? Yes. Yes, he most certainly is.

The chirping finally stops just as Souji's vision starts to haze over with white, leaving his ears ringing with its echos for a good few seconds in the sudden quiet of the room. He can hear his own breathing, the thumping of his pulse through his temples and his neck, but with the silence now hanging heavy over his shoulders he finds himself more grounded than he'd been just moments ago. He sighs, shaking out his arms to try and release some of the tension that's been curling tightly in his limbs, and as the quiet stretches on, he feels his hammering heartbeat begin to slow once more.

It takes him ten minutes to feel like a human again. Still jittery but no longer feeling as if he's going to go blind from lack of oxygen, Souji sighs and starts over towards where his phone rests halfway off his displaced futon, leaning down to check and see if it's intact. It's a mistake; no sooner than he's bent over enough to pick up the phone, there comes a muffled scraping sound, like something moving out on the roof. It's followed by a quiet 'thump' and then the sharp, 'tap-tap-tap!' of knuckles against a pane of glass.

Souji lets out a yelp of surprise – the single most undignified, ungraceful sound he's ever made in his life – and whirls around to stare at the closed curtain like he thinks it might somehow come alive. Without even having to see, Souji already knows exactly who has just climbed up the side of the house.

He bites his lip, tasting the barest hint of salt and blood. Please just go away...

Sadly, it seems that whatever deities might have once been on his side are now ignoring him, because in that beat and a half of silent fear there comes another knock at his window. “Souji!” calls a voice from outside. Right outside, as if the speaker is perched just beyond the window, with only the glass and the curtain to separate them both.

The voice – the all-too-familiar voice – comes again, a little louder and less patient this time. “Hey! Partner, I know you're in there, I can see your lights on. I just heard you!” There is a muffled grunt and a sound like something shifting and Souji still can't seem to move. Three more knocks against the glass.

“Bro, I am stupid and reckless as hell, you know I'll just keep getting louder until Dojima wakes up if I have to.”

And both from his tone and the way the knocking and the whispers seem to get steadily louder, Souji doesn't doubt him for a moment. To be frank, Souji isn't entirely sure his uncle and cousin haven't heard all the commotion already – and he knows that the longer he continues to avoid the other boy, the more suspicious he's making himself look. Damned if he does, damned if he doesn't.

So he gives in. Best to get it over with and accept his fate. Maybe there will still be a way to salvage the situation – or at the very least keep it from escalating. He isn't confident in either choice.

It's just as Yosuke makes one last whisper-shout of, “Dude, let me in!” that Souji finally unsticks himself from the floor and yanks the curtain aside to reveal – yep, just like he'd thought – a rather irritated-looking Yosuke kneeling unsteadily on the slanted overhang covering the front door. With a solemn kind of dread, Souji unlocks the window and slides it open, reaching out to grab his friend by the arm and yank him inside before he can make any more noise.

“Finally!” Yosuke says, once he's landed, still in a harsh pseudo-whisper as he's standing up from his hunch. He glares up at Souji, mouth turned down in a pout, but oddly, there doesn't seem to be any heat behind it all. In fact, as Souji stares, tense and frozen and trying impossibly hard to not give in to his fight-or-flight instincts, he could almost say that Yosuke looks... nervous?

Well of course, he argues to himself, he's probably afraid of you now.

Maybe Souji can play dumb and claim he doesn't know what's going on – or maybe he can dive out the window himself and make a break for the train station. If he's quick enough he might be able to catch the last train of the night.

“The hell happened to your room?” Yosuke mumbles, looking around, and Souji fakes a smile as best he can, though even through his numbing anxiety he can feel how strained it is. “Yosuke,” he tries, nearly tripping over his best friend's name. The smile twitches as he tries to keep it in place. “What're you do--”

He grinds to a halt as the boy he's been in love with for the better part of a year pins him with another sharp amber glare and reaches into his hoodie pocket to pull out the very thing Souji was hoping his partner would never see. He swallows, mouth and throat and tongue all suddenly very dry.

“...I can explain...”

Yosuke fixes him with an unreadable look. He stares at Souji for a moment that stretches painfully on, eyes searching Souji's no doubt devastated face. Eventually he lets out a long exhale though his nose.

“I'm guessing I wasn't supposed to see these?” he says, holding up the stack of yellow-orange-pink envelopes, loosely tied back together with their red string – though it isn't really a question. When Souji doesn't answer, Yosuke nods to himself as if deciding something. He pulls the letters back towards his chest and holds them... almost reverently, looking down at them with a soft sort of expression that Souji has never seen him wear before.

Yosuke turns the letters over in his hands. “I didn't know what they were at first; there wasn't a name or note or anything, so I didn't know who they were from and I thought maybe they'd wound up in the bag by mistake cuz, ya know...” Amber eyes glance back up and for a moment the bridge of his nose is dusted a faint pink. He rolls his wrist, waving his hand in lieu of words. The gesture is entirely unhelpful. “They just...” he starts again, huffing. “They didn't look like the rest of the stuff in the bag? So I thought, this should be okay to open, right? Just the top one? And I was just gonna check and see what these were in case someone was missing something and I figured if they were a gift then I could save the rest for tomorrow, but, uhm...”

And here Yosuke trails off, looking back up at Souji with such a searching look, and Souji has no idea how to read him right now. He just stands there, chest aching as his heart batters the inside of his sternum and the edges of his vision tint grey from where he's neglected proper breathing. This is it, this is where he loses his partner, the best friend he's ever had. Souji could have been content loving Yosuke from afar; maybe not happy, exactly, but content. It wouldn't have destroyed their friendship that way, and Souji could have let himself pretend, every so often when he was alone in the dead of night, that Yosuke loved him back. But now all of that is gone.

And Souji feels his heart beginning to crack.

“I'm sorry...” he whispers, voice thin and brittle. He doesn't know what else to say.

There is another long moment of silence. Souji is expecting a rebuke, something biting and defensive or disgusted, perhaps, but it never comes. Instead, Yosuke's expression seems to twist into something confused and almost hurt.

Yosuke clears his throat awkwardly.“Sorry for...?” he asks, stretching it out as like he's trying to prompt Souji to elaborate. He doesn't say anything for a bit, just waiting, watching his partner's face as if trying to read him.

“I read all of them, you know,” he says at length. His grip on the letters tightens. “Twice.” He glances back down at the sunset-colored envelopes and brushes a thumb across the edge of the topmost one. “And I thought, if this was a joke then it was a shitty one.” An anxious fingernail picks at the red string. He huffs. “But if it wasn't and you meant it, then...” A swallow. “It was probably the best birthday present I've ever gotten...” He looks up then, and the glimmering, guarded hope hidden in the lines of his face is enough to shove all the remaining air from Souji's lungs.

Because there is no way he could possibly be this lucky.

Taking a deep, deep breath in, Yosuke squares his shoulders, lifts his chin, and steps forwards until he's less than half a foot away from Souji's face, close enough that Souji can feel the other boy's rapid breathing in faint bursts against his own skin – and suddenly his heart is fluttering for an entirely different reason.

Face red, Yosuke stares directly into Souji's eyes and quietly says, “Did you mean it?”

And Souji breathes a quiet, honest, “Yes.”

Yosuke's eyes widen. “...Yes?” he repeats, like he can't quite believe it.

Souji nods. “Every word.”

And then Yosuke's fingers are fisted into the collar of Souji's shirt, pulling him down to crash their mouths together in a messy, awkward kiss. The angle is a little off, their lips not quite meeting they way that they should, and Souji has no idea what he's doing with his hands as he hesitantly brings them up to rest one on Yosuke's arm and the other on his hip.

It's perfect.

They part a few seconds later, Souji's face and neck and ears burning just as hot as Yosuke's look, but neither make any move to step away.

Yosuke's mouth twitches up at one corner in a sheepish smile. “Sorry,” he mumbles, “I wanted to do that before I lost my nerve.”

Souji laughs – not a real one, just a puff of disbelieving breath – and returns the almost-smile as something warm blooms inside his chest. “I love you,” he whispers, and never in his life could he have imagined just how good it feels to finally say it aloud, free of the fear of hatred and rejection.

Yosuke ducks his head as the blush burns further up his ears. The shy, bright grin spreading across his face, however, is beautiful.

“...Love you, too, Partner.”

Beaming, Souji can't help but wrap his arms around his friend and pull him into a hug, burying his face in the soft brown hair at Yosuke's temple. He doesn't cry, but he can feel his shoulders shaking; he doesn't have the focus to tell if it's from relief or something else. “Never thought I'd hear you say that,” he admits quietly, feeling safer with his face hidden from Yosuke's view.

The other boy brings his own arms up to encircle Souji's ribs, giving his back a gentle pat with the hand not still holding the stack of letters. “Yeah, well,” he says, and there is a bewildered chuckle in his voice. “I never thought you were secretly writing me love letters, but here we are.”

Oh!

Souji pulls back from the hug as a thought hits him. He tries not to give in to the little noise of unhappiness Yosuke makes as Souji steps away, having to actively will his feet to take him over to the desk instead of back into his friend's arms. Luckily it's not far, nor does his purpose for being there last more than a moment or two as he snatches up the letter he'd written earlier, now the only one left that Yosuke hasn't yet read. He pivots on the ball of his foot, turning his final step towards the desk into a single fluid motion that carries him back to Yosuke, and holds the creamsicle-orange envelope out for the other boy to take. He smiles, giddy and shy. “Happy birthday, Yosuke.”

Yosuke smiles to match his own, honey-brown eyes warm as he gently takes the letter from Souji's hand and places it on top of the bundle still in his grip, tucking a thumb into the envelope's unsealed flap. “It is, yeah.” He leans in to close the distance between them once again and stretches up until he can touch his lips to Souji's in a chaste, sweet kiss. “Got everything I wanted.”

(Souji brings Kanji a homemade lunch every day for a month.)

#fanfic #persona 4 #souyoweek2020 #fanfiction #souyo #souji seta #yu narukami #yosuke hanamura #Kanji Tatsumi

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http-skzhyuns · 4 years

Text

count down | hwang hyunjin

warnings: mild cursing

genre: angst

member: skz hwang hyunjin

words: 2k+

a/n:

i do accept requests and asks, if you have one, please send them. thank you! :) also, this one is a reposted. i had to make some minor edits and my app, well, let’s just it’s not working well lately.

summary: if there’s a way to fix it, you’d do it in a heartbeat. but, you’ve always known that it’ll be like this, you just hoped it wouldn’t hurt because you expected it.

you knew it was bound to fall apart at some point. your friends always considered you as a pessimist, personally, you’d like to convince yourself that you are a realist. but, this one, you knew. you just knew it in your heart that it’s bound to end at some point, and you knew it would hurt like hell.

it’s been a few weeks since you last saw hyunjin. both of you were busy doing your own thing. your boss did nothing but make your work space miserable recently. everybody was on edge, you can already feel the tension as soon as you walk into the office. hyunjin, on the other hand, has been busy travelling to different countries, he has been teaching countless dance classes all over the world.

after another tiring day at work, you trudged into your apartment feeling heavy with fatigue. these days, you barely get enough sleep. sometimes, you end up taking your work to your home just to finish it, decreasing your hours of sleep. but, the pay is good, so you try to stick by it and besides, this heavy workload are only seasonal. there are seasons when you don’t have to struggle as much as you do this time. it’s only because the year is about to end that makes the work pile up like a mountain in your desk.

you threw yourself on your bed, fully-clothed, too tired to even change at this point. you closed your eyes for a moment, trying to relax your muscles and your mind from the long day you just had. however, you quickly opened your eyes in panic, sat and began digging through your purse for your phone. looking at the clock, you knew you’re late for the ‘video call date’ you have with your boyfriend.

“fuck, why did i forget? no” you muttered to yourself, as you open your phone.

but, apparently, there are no missed video calls. hyunjin haven’t called. you eyed the time, you’re only a few minutes late.

“did he forget? again?” you asked yourself.

after pondering for a while, you decided to call him. the phone rang for a while before he finally answered, “hi” he answered in a raspy voice.

hyunjin was asleep and woke up when you called. seeing him through your phone screen, you marveled at his beauty as his eyes squints from the sunlight, his hair a mess.

“hi,” you replied, smiling slightly at the image of him looking too adorable being half-asleep. the two of you has been dating for about five years now, and yet you still get struck by his beauty every single time.

“i’m sorry for waking you up”

“no, it’s okay” he answered, noncommittally. you shrugged it off, thinking it’s because he just woke up. you can hear a rustle on his end as he sat up on his bed.

“how are you doing?” you asked him, genuinely intrigued, as it has been awhile since you talked to him.

“nothing much, i have a few classes today tho, so i’ll be off in a while,” you have yet to see him smile at you.

“oh, i se-”

he cut you off, “hey, uh, listen, i have to go now. i have to get ready for the class.”

you sighed in disappointment, “oh, okay then. have a great day, and take care of yourself, alright? don’t forget to eat meals and drink water. i love you” you smiled at him and finally, you see him smile at you through the screen, it was small, but that was enough for you.

“yeah, i will, love you too.” he replied before ending the call.

putting your phone down, you sighed.

you can’t remember when it all started falling apart. but, a few weeks ago, your time with hyunjin has grown less and less. maybe it’s his job, but you knew deep down that even before he started touring for classes, he was able to keep in tabs with you. these days, you can’t even have a proper conversation how your lives and days went.

you met hyunjin when the both of you are in your third year of college. he was a dance major while you’re on creative writing. you only had one class together but that one class for the whole semester was enough to hit it off. the both of you were an odd pair, him always dressed up so stylishly while you prefer wearing your hoodies to the campus. however, you’re humor and character clicked and you found it easy to get along with him. you became friends with him, and over the summer, he asked you to be his girlfriend.

it was a rough start, you had no idea how relationship worked. your past relationship was either too short or too immature to be even considered as one. you warned hyunjin about it. however, he was insistent and assured you that it doesn’t matter.

“we’ll figure it out together,” he said.

hyunjin is the sweetest boyfriend, he would visit you at your dorms after his practices and you would go to his practice rooms to bring him food and watch him practice. he knew you hated extravagant dates so the both of you opted for spontaneous walk in the nearby parks, a long drive over the long weekend, and eating out on a fast food chain. your dates are simple, but it was enough for the both of you.

after the graduation, you struggled for a while, trying to find a job, an apartment to live, trying to pay the bills. it’s physically, mentally and emotionally taxing but hyunjin was there to help you through it. on nights that you can’t sleep, he would be there to cuddle you as he runs his fingers to your hair to help you calm down. when he was offered to tour in different countries, he presented every single excuse he had so he can stay beside you, but you knew this is part of his dream, and you knew down, that he wanted to do it. that night, the both of you ended up cuddled on the bed with his head on your chest as you ran your fingers through his silky hair. you reassured him that it’ll be alright. after everything, you knew the both of you will be alright. after all, you love each other, don’t you?

suddenly, you weren’t so sure anymore.

the next few months with hyunjin went back and forth, as he traveled around for his job. you established the ‘video call dates’, it felt like nothing has changed except you can’t physically feel his hugs or his kisses. but, his eyes still shined and his lips still curl into the biggest smile whenever the call connected and he can finally see your face after a tiring day.

however, towards the end of year, you both grew cold with each other. the calls grew less frequent, and while you wish you could fix it, you’re not sure how… or if it’s even something that you could fix. suddenly, his eyes doesn’t hold the same glint as it used to and you tried to pretend that it’s just the tiredness.

weeks following that shift and the relationship felt strained. communication became stilted. sometimes, your schedules wouldn’t add up, and even though the both of you tried to set up these kind of dates — something that can be done through the screen, just to see each other even if you’re from different sides of the world, you felt how the distance affected the relationship. it’s the truth that’s been right there, all along, waiting for the both of you to acknowledge.

you love hyunjin, you adored that boy more than you ever lent on. you adored how his eyes would crinkle whenever he smiles or laugh, or how he would clap his hands while doing so. he is a dork and you love him for it. you love how passionate he is at dancing, at his insistence to be better, to learn more. he’s hardworking and he’s incredible sensitive to the people around him. he would know when you’re in a bad place, he would sense whenever you needed your space or when you need him to just wrap his arms around so you’ll know he’s there whenever you need him.

but, you knew deep down that this is bound to end at some point. somehow, you knew it in your gut that the bubble you two are in is bound to fall apart someday.

unfortunately for you, i guess that day is now.

it’s the new year’s eve, hyunjin’s still overseas. but, you’re on the same timezone so the both of you decided to basically celebrate the new year with each other via video call.

you’re lying if you tell yourself that this whole thing doesn’t hurt, because it does. it tears you apart knowing that the person you planned to spend your whole life with, is slowly falling out of love with you. but, it is what is. you can’t force him to stay in love with you.

looking down at your phone, you know you have at least 10 minutes before the count down. you pulled up hyunjin’s contacts, and pressing on the video call button. he answered quickly and it left you fumbling for composure.

“hey,” he breathed. he’s dressed up for a party. he’s probably at one of his colleague’s party, you thought.

“hi, you look great,” you smiled at him.

he chuckles, “well, you look great too. you’re at jisung’s party?”

you nodded through your phone, “i am, it’s new year in a while.”

an awkward silence filled the air, “it is… how are you?” he asked softly.

at this point, you’re tearing up, knowing this is how it’ll end. your heart clenched for what’s about to come.

“jinnie, i want your honest answer, alright?” as tears begin filling your eyes, you tried to smile at him to assure that everything’s alright.

a loud chatter can be heard behind, he gulped in confusion and the building tension that he can feel through his phone, “sure, what is it?”

“do you still love me?”

hyunjin felt like the wind was knocked off his lungs, he suspected that you can feel how the relationship is slowly falling apart. but, he didn’t expect you to ask him so straightforwardly, “i-i,” he stuttered.

giving up, you can see how his shoulders fall, “i did. i still do…” his tongue swiped over his lips, his eyes darting everywhere but your face.

still, you continued to smile, “but, it’s different now, right?”

he sighed, his eyes brimming with tears, his heart clenches as he watch you keep yourself together through the screen. your beautiful smile, your lips slightly quivering, your teary eyes, he hated himself for putting you in this situation. you are a lovely girl, you were always considerate of his time and priorities. you were very understanding whenever he can’t be there due to practices or even when he got a job to be a choreographer and teacher.you would bring him food whenever he gets too passionate at his craft and ended up overworking himself.

eventually, he nodded before looking down, he breathed deeply before looking up and straight into your eyes, his dark orbs reflecting the pain in them, “i love you. you are a lovely person, y/n. you truly are. i don’t know when it started to change, but i want you to know that you are the loveliest girl i have ever met and i’ll never, ever, regret meeting you,” he said softly but with conviction, hoping that his words get through you, because it’s the truth.

you bit your lip, trying to keep your sobs in.

“there are no other people involved, i want you to know that. it’s just that… things started to change,” he continued.

a sob escaped from your throat and suddenly tears began falling and you looked down so he can’t see it, “i know… we did change. i think it’s us that changed.”

looking at tears falling down your cheeks, hyunjin can’t help but to cry too. the both of you tried to reign your emotions just to make this whole situation easier for each other, but the heart break is too much. it feels like it’s ripping you apart.

in the background the countdown has begun,

“i’m sorry,” he sobbed.

“you don’t have to be,” you smiled through your own tears.

“i love you, hyunjin. you are the best. you are a great boyfriend and you’re an ever greater person, you’re lovely, in your own way.”

silence filled the both of your ends, you just stared at each other through the screen, drinking in each other as if it’ll be the last time you’ll see the other person.

he smiled at you.

you smiled back at him and closed your eyes, breathing in deeply.

the fireworks started to paint the sky in wonderful colors. the noise filling the air. the loud cheers can be heard, everyone screamed their greetings, kissing their significant others, their wishes for a good year.

and, here you are, breaking up with your boyfriend.

“happy new year, hyunjin. i wish you all the best in life, take care of yourself. have a good night. i love you. thank you for those wonderful years i spent with you, here’s to the years we’ll spend without each other in our lives,”

his heart stopped beating as you uttered those words, this it then, he thought.

sending a gentle smile at you, he replied, “happy new year, y/n. i hope you have a lovely year. take care of yourself too. and, i love you. cheers and goodbye. goodnight, y/n,” his voice fading into a soft whisper towards the end of his reply.

you nodded at him and stared at each other for a few seconds before pressing the end call button.

as the rest of the world cheered for the new year, two hearts weep over a love that ended.

#stray kids scenarios #stray kids angst #stray kids au #stray kids blurbs #stray kids imagines #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin angst #hyunjin au #skz angst

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nomimits7 · 4 years

Text

Isolation ~ Drabble 5

Title: Isolation

Genre: Just some random drabbles

Warnings: If bts being dorks counts then yes that would be a warning

Paring: BTS x reader

A/N: Writing while I am angry turned out to be one of the best things I have ever done. Here you are folks! Another word vomit during a time where everyone is going a little crazy. I literally talked to a rock today, he was very nice and polite but he was very hard to read. Happy reading<3

∞

You were missing.

After Namjoon pulled that little stunt on you and you left the kitchen area, no one could find you. You weren’t in your room or the study. Jimin searched the patio while Jungkook and Seokjin searched the yard. They considered the possibility that you might have gone for a short walk or just relocated to a room they have yet to discover. So, reluctantly, they stopped looking and waited for your reappearance. They even placed themselves throughout the house to make it easier to find you.

By the time lunch rolled around, you still haven’t resurfaced. Yup, they were indeed worried. How could one girl disappear without a trace in a house full of boys? Were they to forward? Was that stunt one too many? What if you actually left the house and were now held captive by the police or worse, some random group of guys? Maybe the mafia got you? The questions grew endless and the possibilities grew scarier.

Namjoon felt the worst out of all of the boys. He just never knew when to shut the hell up, or in this case, when to NOT engage. He felt like a complete fool for what he had done. He knew it was too soon, but he never listens to the rational part of his brain. He was on the verge of calling Mr. Bang or even start a search party with lots of posters of you. Did they even have a photo of you? He would have to ask Mr bang. Standing on the patio Namjoon was on the verge of breaking. His hair was in shambles, his clothed all skew. To put it simply, he looked like shit.

“Holy shit you look like the walking dead. Are you okay?” your voice entered his ears. Whipping his head in your direction, his vision went slightly black at the sudden movement.

“Y-Y/N?” His voice was uneven as his hands started shaking. He was beyond relieved to see you. You looked like an angel as you stood there with a book clutched to your chest, innocent at its best. The slight concern in your eyes grew as he stumbled towards you. His previous relief was short-lived as a wave of mild anger took hold of him. How could you just disappear like that?

“Where the hell have you been? Do you know how concerned we were when we could find you to eat lunch?” His voice came out sharper than he intended, successfully making you take a step back.

“O-on the roof. R-reading” you answered as you pointed to the book. Namjoon halted in his step. The roof? Reading? What? A new set of questions started swirling in his mind as his anger faded away. Of course, you would be in the last place they would care to look.

“Oh” was his only response as the staring competition you unknowingly started continued. The silence growing by the minute as both of you just stood there, staring.

“Okay, are we going to keep staring at each other like some creepy pedo or are we going to go inside? The sun is kind of hot out here and I’m dying of thirst” Your playful voice broke through the awkwardness. The slight giggle you added toward the end, warmed Namjoon’s heart. You didn’t seem mad or freaked out by what happened this morning and that in itself was a great relief.

“Boys! I found her!” Namjoon yelled into the house as you entered. It took a whopping 6 seconds before the other six joined you in the kitchen. They literally came running, Jungkook and Taehyung clashed, sending both of them to the ground. Hoseok slipped due to him running in socks on very slippery tiles. Jimin and Seokjin collided with the fridge and the oven respectfully and Yoongi tripped over Jungkook as he was about to jump to his feet.

It truly was a sight to see, you and Namjoon both nearly fell from your seats, laughing. The others soon joined in on the laughing, slowly and very carefully getting up and sitting down with you.

“You were reading where?” Jimin’s voice held both surprise and disbelief as you confessed to your whereabouts. You soon learned that Jimin was as much of a bookworm as you were. you had the slightest of feelings he was going to be joining you at your reading spot, soon.

After you and Jimin contemplated a mutual reading time, you folded your hands and looked at each one of the members in the eye.

“You know, I really adore you guys. I’ve been a fan for many years, and I love the idea that you guys are actually humans outside of the Idol light. But I am on to you, you caught me once off guard, but consider this my acceptance of the challenge. May the odds be ever in your favor” You said, getting up after you finished and leaving the boys still seated at the table.

You had no idea what you had just permitted them to. That alone made each of the boys share a mutual smirk. This is going to be so much fun.

Taglist thingy: @vividwoosan @slutkoo

#Isolation #nomimits7 #nomimits drabbles #bts #bts x reader #ot7 x reader

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only-here-for-jatp · 4 years

Text

Build-a-Band Pt 6 Sir Reginald II

It’s another Build-a-Band chapter!!! This time from Julie’s POV as she watches her adorable himbos make Build-a-Bears

She makes Reggie (Spoilers I know, but to be fair- he’s the only one left!)

If I’m really good, and y’all are really excited, I’ll try to get the last part done tonight! It feels weird to wrap this up. Feels like I’ve been working on it forever.

Anyway, you can read it on Ao3 here

And also below! ~1800 words

Julie knew long before Reggie headed home that all the boys would be back, sooner rather than later, which is why she checked her schedule. Luckily, she was opening the next morning and everything would be quiet. Not to mention, she’d already gotten her first couple of paychecks so hopefully she could pay for everything that was about to happen. She knew her father would help since he loved to dote on his adopted ghost boys, but it was also kind of nice to be able to do this for them.

She’d gotten home to find Alex stubbornly refusing to let go of Alexander, Luke whining that he wanted one, and Reggie filled with so much pride and warmth that she could swore he was glowing. By the time she’d left for bed that night, all plans finalized, the boys had been snuggled up in their own bed. Alex in the middle holding tightly to Alexander, sandwiched between the two other boys. She chuckled as she headed out knowing she might need a lot of sleep and energy for her three tag-alongs the next day.

It’s why when she arrived before the boys the next morning, she took a minute to breathe everything in. She kind of liked the mall when everything was quiet and peaceful. The lights were mostly dimmed and the only sounds were the distant hiss of coffee machines and the soft whispers of the few other employees, not willing to break the silence just yet.

The store itself appeared kind of magical with colors and life bleeding through everything. Even though the store wasn’t truly alive yet. She liked being the first one in and getting to set everything up. She could organize the pre-made bears in the window into cute scenes, place out the small props that existed around the store. She tried for something new every time, some small little spin that would put an extra bright smile onto the child that noticed.

It was as she was setting up that she walked past a bin that made her stop. Long before Reggie had insisted on joining her she’d been imagining which bears she’d pick out for everyone. She’d found a bear for Flynn and Carrie and Luke and Alex, but Reggie had been stumping her for a couple of weeks. Until of course, she walked past this particular bin this morning.

She wasn’t sure how she’d missed it before. The bear was soft and black with wide eyes and a small smile. It was soft and the fur had a slight curve to it. She let her fingers drift across the Midnight Moon Bear and knew that this would be the one. No sooner had she finished the thought when she heard the tell-tale signs of poofing ghosts.

She turned around with a smile catching the first glimpses on Alex and Luke. They both stared wide-eyed and open mouthed, although Alex caught himself pretty quick transforming into a look of mild interest. She could still see the sparkle in his eyes though as he started wandering towards the shelves. Reggie just kept nodding the quintessential “AM I RIGHT???” look plastered across his face.

Julie nearly died of laughter once Luke found the puppies and zoomed around the store with Reggie. She took glee in the opportunity to tease Luke about his height. Even with Alex quiet unawareness of what was going on around him, she could spot the joy he was trying to hide.

The store may be no longer be quiet and peaceful, but she had to admit, she liked it filled with life more. It wasn’t the thrill on being on stage in front of screaming fans, but it was the little moments of connection as a child watched a shell of fabric come to life. It was the awe in their eyes as they oh so carefully picked out a heart and gave it warmth and joy and love. Her favorite though was when she stuffed the new toy and she was one-on-one with a child and they kept glancing into her eyes and back to the ever growing stuffie. For just a moment, she knew that child believed in magic and life and love so strongly that it could change the world.

Now here she was getting to watch those emotions dance across her boys’ faces. The boys had so many characteristics which defined them. They were dead, and a band, and family. They suffered through childhoods, that while Julie didn’t know all the details, she knew forced them to grow up fast. Forced them to take care of themselves when the people who should’ve failed.

So, she took a moment to breathe and watch as her boys were able to be just that. Boys. Children. Teenagers. Dorks who just wanted something soft.

After she watched all three of the boys pick up their piece, she grabbed what would soon become Sir Reginald II and led them over to the stuffing machine. She went through the basic instructions, knowing the boys were barely paying attention before guiding them over to the hearts.

She smiled at their enthusiasm and teased Reggie as he looked at every single heart in all of the boxes. Luke was also digging, but it seemed to be more purposeful while Alex picked through the hearts carefully taking his time to find the right one. Julie, on the other hand, knew exactly which heart she wanted. She’d picked it out the day before when Reggie was here and slipped it behind the counter. Out of all the hearts she’d ever seen in the box, it was by far the biggest. Nearly twice as big as the next closest size and a vibrant red. Reggie’s heart was so large, she knew Sir Reginald II needed one to match.

It didn’t particularly surprise her when Reggie asked her to “do the magic” and she struggled to contain her laughter when he managed to drag his friends into a group beg. Julie never intended to say no, but watching the boys plead with her was admittedly adorable. So she led them through it, warming up the heart, jumping with the heart, and her personal favorite- the wish.

When she’d done the heart for Alexander the day before, she’d wished for Alex to know that he was family. He was just as important and valued by her as any of the other boys. Reggie was rapidly taking on a big brother role, and although she tried to be exasperated about it, she couldn’t be more thrilled. Luke was… something. Some days he felt like her other half. Alex though, Alex was everything that kept her calm and steady and grounded. She hoped she knew how much he meant to her.

For Reggie’s bear she’d thought long and hard about what the whispered wish would be. In the end, she thought about everything she loved about Reggie.

Sir Reginald II please take care of Reggie. Sometimes he doesn’t realize how important he is. He’s the glue that holds us all together and keeps us going when everything seems bleak. He is so loved and so valuable. Please remind him of that when everything seems hard.

Alex brought William the Sk8 Bear up first and he seemed to bounce a little as he came to life. The shriek though when Alex caught sight of the skateboard accessories would forever be her favorite.

Reggie came up to him next and whispered to her. I made a wish, but I wondered if you wanted to leave one for Luke too. Her eyes widened as a blush covered her cheeks, but she agreed. Quietly she sang to the heart.

We say we're friends, we play pretend. You're more to me, we're everything Our voices rise and soar so high. We come to life when we're, In perfect harmony

She kept glancing over to Luke, ensuring he wasn’t paying attention, but thankfully he was also absorbed in his bear. Reggie jittered with excitement next to her, ready for the bear to be made, already planning in his head exactly how to accessorize Lukas.

Luke slowly approached her, ready to make Jules a true stuffie. She couldn’t help but give him a look. Was this really the one he picked for her? She loved it, but she had to laugh at the slightly awkward eyeliner they’d put on this bear. Her gasp resounded though as she caught a glimpse of the heart in his hand.

It was a vibrant purple and whatever second guessing she did about his knowledge of her faded as she saw the most beautiful heart. It was her favorite shade of purple and she squeezed it tight, once again feeling a blush crawling up her cheeks.

Once she’d stuffed Jules the Bear, it was a lot easier to see where he was going with this. His smile at the sight filled her with a small light and she passed him the bear while he flounced off to find her the perfect outfit.

Quickly she got to work on Sir Reginald II already knowing that among the clothing and accessories lived a white tank top, black jeans, a leather jacket, and a red stuffed bass guitar.

There was something steady about stuffing the bears. There was a little foot press like on a sewing machine or piano. In a way, it almost felt like she was making music as she brought Sir Reginald to life. The machine would wheeze as the stuffing flowed through the nozzle to the bear and it would make soft whump noises as it filled in all the spaces. Carefully she laced up the back and flipped the bear over. If she didn’t stare too deeply or too hard she could almost see the twinkle in its eye and the smirk on his face.

Looking up, she caught a glimpse of the boys rushing around and finding all the perfect pieces. Dressing the bears, laughing, and teasing each other. Every now and again someone would pick up an article of something ridiculous and hold it up, asking if it was what each other was looking for.

She loved them, but they certainly were high energy and she took a deep breath before rejoining the fray. Luke had Lukas grasped tightly, eyes a little watery while he batted away Alex’s hands who appeared to be trying to snatch Lukas away. She let out a small laugh at their antics and eased Jules out of Reggie’s arms and replaced her with Sir Reginald II.

If she noticed Luke freeze and eye her warily, she didn’t think much of it as she gripped Jules loosely in her arms. Jules ended up in an outfit that was pretty close to her Stand Tall outfit and she was mildly impressed. Unfortunately, Julie caught a glimpse down at her watch and began to shoo the boys out. It was just about time to open, which meant it was time to send them home. She gently placed Jules back in Reggie's arms and began preparing for the rest of her day.

#jatp #julie and the phantoms #jatp fanfic #build a band

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