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osakaso5 · 3 years

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Nagi Rokuya Birthday Photobook Rabbit Chat Part 3: Nagi And His Senior Idols

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4 | Part 5

Tsumugi: Thank you for gathering here today..! This project was created to show more of Nagi-san’s true nature as a way to commemorate the release of the Nagi Photobook.

Tsumugi: I’m sure you must be busy, but I’d like for you to talk as you usually do. I look forward to chatting with you!

Nagi: Feel free to discuss every one of my good points. Now, begin.

Ryunosuke: Hello, Nagi-kun! I was excited for your photobook!

Nagi: Hello.

Yuki: You're as cold as I heard.

Momo: Yoohoo, Nagi~! Mind giving us a little more of a warm welcome???

Nagi: I do not mean to treat you coldly. This is how I normally operate.

Yuki: Like a train?

Gaku: You're not like this when you talk to me. What's going on?

Nagi: Hm, is that so? Perhaps I must correct my conduct around you...

Gaku: Why? (lol)

Tenn: Gaku, are you done trying to act like the two of you are best friends?

Ryunosuke: Wait, Gaku and Nagi-kun are friends!? I want to be friends with him, too. Do you think we could make that happen?

Tenn: Ryu, you're veering dangerously close to flirty territory again.

Ryunosuke: Huh!?

Yuki: It's almost scary, how unaware of his own flirting he is. He and Nagi-kun are pretty much polar opposites.

Momo: I think you're a little like Ryu in that respect, too...

Yuki: Am I?

Tsumugi: Nagi-san, please say something ><

Ryunosuke: Did he fall asleep?

Nagi: Of course not. I was merely observing our chat log, in case any of you felt like talking about my photobook.

Gaku: Geez, you're really gonna keep doing this aren't you? (lol)

Tenn: Nagi Rokuya, your crying face makes you look like a child.

Momo: Ah, you mean in the social media pic~!? Wasn't that taken during one of his Cocona marathons? lolol

Nagi: OH, I was not expecting you to open with that. Cute, was it not? Although Mitsuki is the only cutie we need.

Gaku: I thought we were finally gonna talk about your photobook, but now you're just bragging about your teammates!

Nagi: Is that a problem? :-)))

Gaku: No!

Nagi: I do enjoy your banter, Yaotome-shi.

Momo: Nagi, you're so funny, lolololol

Nagi: Am I? :-P

Yuki: I didn't know you even could cry.

Nagi: ? What do you mean?

Yuki: Nothing.

Ryunosuke: That picture of you with the cherry blossoms was cool! I was completely drawn to it.

Nagi: I think you should take a photograph in front of the nighttime sakura, as well.

Ryunosuke: I'm not really the type who'd look good around sakura, lol

Yuki: You're more of a hibiscus kind of guy.

Tenn: Totally.

Nagi: Uminchu (1).

Tsumugi: Mitsuki-san just sent me a message saying: "Nagi's trying to mail order a ton of hibiscuses and send them to Yaotome Productions, I'll go pretend I'm Cocona until he comes to his senses"..!?

Ryunosuke: W-why!?

Yuki: That's hilarious.

Tenn: No, it's not...

Gaku: Yeah, it is.

Tenn: It shouldn't be.

Momo: Hey, Nagi! Why were you trying to send them hibiscuses!? lolololol

Nagi: So Tsunashi-shi may be photographed against a hibiscus background? He may not look as good as me, but I am sure they will suit him nonetheless.

Nagi: Consider it a thanks for his appreciation of the photobook Sogo produced for me.

Ryunosuke: B-but... I just said what I felt, are you sure I should accept the flowers?

Tenn: Don't look so happy, Ryu.

Yuki: Maybe you could send me flowers, too

Nagi: Will edible flowers do?

Momo: LMAO

Tsumugi: Um, I received another message from Mitsuki-san, this time saying "He's just got this creepy, serene look on his face! And he's not stopping, in fact now he's trying to buy edible flowers"...

Momo: He's actually doing it, lolololol

Yuki: How many were you planning to get us, by the way?

Nagi: 1100.

Momo: Figures!!! Are you rewarding us for talking about the Nagi Photobook or something!? lololol

Gaku: Is this some kind of reforestation campaign?

Nagi: You are to photograph yourselves in front of the flowers I send you, holding a Nagi Photobook, and then upload it on social media.

Nagi: On June 20th, at exactly midnight, of course :-))))

Yuki: That'll be one hell of a picture. Sounds fun

Momo: Let's do it! A handsome Nagi in bed plus Re:vale in front of tons of edible flowers equals a massive reaction, lololol

Ryunosuke: Now I'm getting nervous! It's a big responsibility, but I'll try my best to take a good picture.

Gaku: Ryu, if you're doing it, don't take the photo yourself. I'll do it.

Ryunosuke: Thank you!

Tenn: I don't care anymore.

Tsumugi: Before we get more sidetracked, here are some questions the others prepared for you...

Nagi: I was waiting for this. It is about time for me to free Mitsuki, who is still pretending to be Cocona for me X-P

Choices/outcomes:

1. Why do you like anime?

Nagi: It is a long story... But to put it shortly, anime is one of the things that saved me.

2. Meat or veggies?

Nagi: I like both. But if you mean my conduct with the ladies, I am more of a carnivorous type... ;-P

3. Do you do anything specific to maintain your physique?

Nagi: I watch Cocona. The sheer excitement is enough for me to break into a sweat, and it has a detoxing effect.

Nagi: I look forward to each of your photobooks, as well.

Gaku: Oh, that's nice to hear. Let us know what you thought, okay (lol)

Nagi: I think I will be able to judge them based entirely on how Sogo will be acting when they release.

Gaku: Why Osaka?

Ryunosuke: He did say he's our fan!

Nagi: Unfortunately, that appears to be the case ;-(

Yuki: Unfortunately?

Nagi: Sogo and Mitsuki are such rabid fanboys ;-(

Nagi: By the way, Kujo-shi, I hope you will look forward to the Riku Photobook, which I will be producing.

Tenn: ^^

Tsumugi: Aaaah, I'll cut this part out of the public version..!

Tenn: Oh. Okay then.

Tenn: I expect a cover portraying your center as the healthy and wholesome 18-year- old he is ^^

Nagi: OH, do not fret, Kujo-shi. I understand completely (V)o¥o(V)

Tenn: What is that kaomoji supposed to be..?

Nagi: (V)o¥o(V)

Momo: I knew this when I read your photobook, but you've gotten soft, Nagi! In a good way!

Nagi: What? But I have not gained any weight!

Momo: That's not what I meant, lololol I meant your personality and vibe, stuff like that.

Nagi: What makes you say that?

Momo: Just a hunch!

Nagi: A hunch?

Momo: You used to be like Yuki, when he was younger.

Yuki: Did he now? Does that mean I should get into Cocona, too?

Momo: Nah, I think you're good, lololol

Gaku: I kinda get what you mean. My image of him changed after we did MATSURI together, too.

Nagi: If that is the case... Then perhaps I have finally found a place where I can truly be myself.

Ryunosuke: Are you happy right now, Nagi-kun?

Nagi: Yes. More than anyone else in the world.

Ryunosuke: That's great!

Tenn: You've found something to hold dear.

Nagi: Moments of happiness, sadness, and anger. It is a routine we have come to share. I think it has changed not only me, but each and every one of us.

Nagi: Meeting all of you has changed us greatly. Thank you for paving the way for us.

Momo: He's finally warmed up to us..!

Yuki: That he has.

Nagi: Though we will be the ones paving the rest of the way for you :-P

Gaku: Nah, he's still his usual self (lol)

Tsumugi: We've changed because of you, Nagi-san.

Tsumugi: Thank you for keeping your cool. No matter what happens, I feel like we can always get back on track, as long as you're with us.

Tsumugi: Still, I know we can't keep relying on you like this... So I'll make sure to become the kind of manager you can even complain to!

Nagi: I thought a true man should never complain.

Nagi: However, I now realize that my feelings on the matter might be hurting you.

Nagi: Thank you all for coming here tonight. I was happy to talk to you.

Nagi: Though I do not dare wish for more, I have come to feel that maybe having 12 of us is even better than having 7 of us. I hope you will understand this feeling, too.

Translator’s notes..?

1) Uminchu basically means “man of the sea” in Uchinaaguchi/Okinawan

#idolish7 #nagi rokuya #birthday photobook #translation #i7 #rabbit chat

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venhedish · 3 years

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Ven’s Masterlist of SPN Fic

I write mostly pre-series and early seasons Big Feels™ Wincest fic. There’s a lot of angst and pining here, but plenty of love and devotion mixed in with the darkness.

I always deeply, deeply appreciate likes, kudos, comments, and reblogs!

Wincest Fic

Stand-Alone

Yesterday is a Ghost I Believe In ~4.1k, Teen, Pre-series, Epistolary, Multimedia, Experimental There's an old shoebox under Sam Winchester's bed. It's been there almost as long as he can remember. He doesn't look inside it very often, but when he does, he takes his time. A multimedia collection of letters, journal entries, pictures, and other ephemera from a life on the road. .

That Monster, Love ~2k, Teen, Pre-series, POV Outsider, POV John Winchester, John Finds Out, Angst “You think you’re doing your boys any favors, raisin’ ‘em like this?” .

To Cure My Lonesome Blood ~8.8k, Explicit, Pre-series, Pining Dean, Angst, Bittersweet Ending Dean’s been sick since before either of them was born. The disease is incurable, written into his blood – the same blood he shares with his brother. If he’s not careful, the fever will spread like a fire and consume them both. .

Like Sand, Like Water, Like Sunlight ~1.7k, Gen, Pre-series, Mutual Pining, Angst, Pre-Slash Sea birds circle overhead and Dean wishes he had a camera. Sam looks so young, all of twelve years old, and exhilarated. Dean wants to hold this image in the chambers of his heart, but his pulse just carries it along; time is cruel that way. .

The Space Between Sense and Memory ~4.8k, Teen, Pre-series through Season 1, 5-and-1 Things There are a hundred unwritten rules on all the acceptable ways brothers should touch each other. There are hardly any ways at all to break them. Or; five times they follow the rules and one time they don’t. .

Every Goodbye, all at Once ~900, Teen, Pre-series, Stanford Era, Pining Dean, Angst, Epistolary "Hey, It's Sam. If you're looking for my dad, you can reach him at 866-555-9352. If you're looking for me, leave a message." A series of voicemails Dean leaves at the number Sam left behind. .

Breathe You In (Choke You Down) ~6k, Explicit, Season 01, PWP, Scent Kink, Guilty Dean Winchester Once Sam was gone, Dean missed him in a way that was all-consuming, all the way down – so deep in his bones that he shook with loneliness some nights. And it was the familiar scent of his brother’s hair where it tangled warm against the pillows, his pulse beating under his skin and sending the fear of the hunt wafting off of him in waves that Dean struggled to hold onto the hardest. Dean really likes the way Sam smells.. .

Dawn is Coming (Open Your Eyes) ~5k, Explicit, Season 01, Hurt/Comfort, Getting Back Together In which Sam and Dean suffer new wounds and stitch old ones back together. There’s an awful storm, a dead monster, an injury, and a whole lot of feelings. .

You put the Magic in Me ~9.1k, Explicit, Season 02(ish), Sex Pollen, Porn with Plot, Casefic “This is the weirdest thing we’ve ever done for a case,” Dean says under his breath, leaning into Sam and scouting the crowd gathered around a dozen tables inside the little café. “Dude, relax,” Sam says back, eyebrows raising at his brother’s nervous energy. “I thought this would be, like, your thing.” He gestures vaguely to the women milling around inside. A long, vividly red banner hangs across the open french doors that lead into the space, emblazoned with the words The Oolong Tea Room Presents: Lonely Hearts Club Speed Dating! Feb 11-14th! Or; in which Sam and Dean learn a thing or two about chemistry. .

The Stars are not Wanted Now ~2k, Teen, Season 02, Episode Tag: s02e21 All Hell Breaks Loose, Angst, Death Rituals There was a body on the bed. It had been there long enough that the slanting light of morning crept into the room like an unwelcome invader and washed the world in a dream-shade of palest blue. But there were no dreams here; only death, only memory. The body on the bed was all that remained of Samuel Winchester, who had died in his brother’s arms the night before. .

Demi-Gods and Hungry Ghosts ~5.8k, Explicit, Season 03, Episode Tag: s03e11 Mystery Spot, Dark, Dub-con, Hurt No Comfort This dream-state of living on pause and rewind leads to some interesting avenues of thought that Sam doesn’t mean to travel, but after a certain number of unrelenting Tuesdays, they just become inevitable. If Dean dies every day—if his memories are wiped, or if they never happen at all—what could Sam get away with, if he wanted to? Could he dare to find out? .

In Sanguine Vita Est ~5.2k, Explicit, Season 04, Knifeplay, Dean’s Hell Trauma, Hurt/Comfort Everything was different now. Dean was here—back from the fucking dead—but he was a stranger in his own body. Scars gone, aches from broken bones that hadn’t set right vanished back into the void as if they’d never existed at all. He’d become a stranger to the whole world. He’d become a stranger to Sam. _ Dean asks Sam to help him heal after he returns from Hell. .

All Heartless Spectres, Happiness ~5.7k, Explicit, Season 06, Episode Tag: s06e06 You Can’t Handle the Truth, POV Outsider, Angst, Soulless Sam Lisa Braeden receives an email with the subject line, "You Deserve to Know." It contains a single video file and nothing else. .

The Rungs of Me be Under You ~1.6k, Teen, Gencest, Post-Bunker, 2nd Person POV, Queerplatonic Sam and Dean, Non-Sexual Kink What they share has never been easy to define. Why should this be any different? .

Wincest Series The Top/Bottom Discourse Series (Ongoing) [Each story is canon compliant and listed chronologically, but they can all be read as standalone works.] This series was born originally from a silly meta post I made on Tumblr as a response to some very angry top/bottom discourse I was seeing about how only Sam could truly be A Top™, or how only Dean could truly be A Top™. I personally like to kink and let kink and not drag outdated gender politics into my fandom (Dean can't be a bottom because he's too masculine? Ice cold take, bro), so I wrote a filthy little tongue-in-cheek post about all the ways I think Sam and Dean have fucked each other over the years.

I’m Thinking About Whatever You’re Thinking About ~5.1k, Explicit, Pre-series, PWP, Bratty Sam, Exhibitionism, Fear of Discovery Sam is such a brat, sometimes. .

Shoot to Thrill ~6.7k, Explicit, Season 02, Porn with Plot, Hustling, Getting Back Together It's just like riding a bike. .

Burn Out The Night ~4.9k, Explicit, Season 08, Porn with Plot, Car Sex, Light BDSM, Fluff What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. .

Destiel Fic

Love Made a Martyr of Me ~500, Teen, Season 05, Endverse, Past Sam/Dean, Angst Sam says yes in Detroit, and in the space of a single syllable, there's nothing left in Heaven or on Earth for Dean to love. Cas doesn't seem to care. .

The Sharp Teeth of the One You Love ~2k, Teen, Season 05, Endverse, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Pining “Quit bein’ a baby, Cas.” Dean’s hands were covered in blood, but they were steady as always while he worked to stitch Castiel back together. “I’m sorry,” Cas growled between gritted teeth. “I don’t exactly have a lot of experience feeling pain.” He hissed again when Dean slid the curved needle back through the eight-inch-long gash that ran deep and bloody down Cas’s bicep. Castiel learns something about what it means to be human. .

Wincestiel Fic

Temerate ~700, Teen, Season 05(ish), Past Sam/Dean, 2nd Person POV, First Time Your brother is sitting in the corner of the motel room. His big hands are worrying at each other; he squeezes them together, fingertips white from the pressure of his grip. He meets your eyes and his gaze is like a lightning strike. .

Dean/John Fic

Cruore ~1.1k, Mature, Pre-series, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Blood, Intrusive Thoughts Bites, Dean could deal with – claw marks and broken bones. But this- ... a bullet was a different kind of monster altogether. .

Supernatural RPF

Il Cielo in Una Stanza ~4.4k, Explicit, Jensen Ackles/Jared Padalecki, Getting Back Together, Prequel-Gate, Polyamory, Non-AU Jared Padalecki receives a present he wasn't expecting at all for his 39th birthday. .

Other Supernatural Fic

Bad Things, Better Reasons ~2k, Explicit, Pre-series, Dean Does Sex Work, Angst, Brotherly Love. Dean does whatever it takes to keep the bills paid while John is gone. The kid waiting for him back at the motel room is all the justification he’ll ever need. .

No Was Her Name ~1.3k, Teen, Season 12, Dean/Mary, Light Angst, First Kiss Mary Winchester was alive. She was solid—made of skin and blood and bone—and she existed in the same world as Dean. It wasn’t a dream; she walked and talked and breathed. She ate, she slept, she wandered the halls of the bunker at odd hours. She was a ghost made flesh, and Dean was haunted by her presence. .

#ven creates #wincest #wincestiel #destiel #J2 #daddycest #spn fic #fic masterlist #my fic #long post #sorry #i just wanna be able to link to it in my bio

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so-writing · 4 years

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Things You Never Show - Rafe Cameron x Reader x JJ Maybank (Outer Banks)

I was in my BSB feels, listening to ‘Show Me the Meaning of Being Lonely’ and this happened. Not proofread so mistakes most likely

Summary: You are a pogue dating Rafe Cameron and, as expected, chaos ensues.

You could be the center of attention at a party and still feel ignored.

Rafe was a good boyfriend, at best, half of the time. When the two of you were alone, he was more than happy to fulfill your every desire and make you feel like you were on top of the world. He made sure you were satisfied in every way and it was heaven to you.

But when you were out and about, like at a kegger in the boneyard, Rafe acted like a stranger.

“You know he treats you like shit, right?”

A figure you didn’t immediately recognize dropped down beside you on the edge of the dock you were seated on, dipping your toes into the water.

“He’s an asshole and you deserve better.”

You were about to protest until you looked toward the stranger and met the eyes of JJ Maybank. The boy you’d pined after for years when you were younger. Even though you were past your crush, you couldn’t shake his gaze.

“Cameron is a piece of shit, you know.”

“He’s not,” you defended, “he just doesn’t know any better.”

“He doesn’t know that he shouldn’t flirt carelessly with other girls when he’s obviously locked down? He’s an asshole.”

You should’ve protested JJ’s musings but you knew he was right and that there was no defending Rafe.

“Maybe, but he’s my asshole.”

It was a weak argument, confirmed by the chuckle JJ released before he took a hit of his blunt.

“There are about a million people in the world that would treat you better than Rafe, but you’re stuck on baby money for reasons I couldn’t possibly understand.”

JJ turned his head and blew smoke away from you before he stood up, ruffled your hair and made his way back to the party.

The friendship between you and the other pogues had existed for as long as you could remember and you weren’t quite sure when JJ became someone you looked at just a little differently. You harbored secret feelings that you were never able to spill and they eventually faded when you matured some and started noticing other boys.

Rafe Cameron was one of those boys. He didn’t attend Kildare Public, his parenting opting instead to send him to the fancy private school that all the kooks seemed to attend, but he regularly showed up at boneyard parties and that was when he first caught your eye.

Two years older than you and a haughty asshole, he was exactly what you thought you wanted. Rafe being and kook and you a pogue, you assumed he wouldn’t be interested at all but that wasn’t the case and not much time had gone by until you were spending your nights in his bed.

The first time you went public as a couple was over a year ago and you were now comfortable in feeling lonely a lot of the time, despite what felt like the entire world knowing you were attached to Rafe Cameron.

“But he’s my asshole,” you said to yourself when JJ had gone, “what a fucking stupid excuse.”

Feeling dumb and embarrassed, you pulled your feet out of the water and slid into your sandals. Rafe might have noticed your absence and you weren’t feeling up to getting into an argument over where you could have been, not that he cared anyway.

You found him sitting on a log around one of the few bonfires at the party with his arm wrapped around a girl you didn’t recognize. He was obviously drunk, maybe a little high as well, and you knew you couldn’t say anything to either of them without facing the consequences later.

He laughed at something Kelce said as he wrapped his arm tighter around the girl, pulling her close enough to kiss her forehead. This behavior was new to you. He always flirted with randoms in public, giving them a hug or rub on the back but Rafe had never put his lips on someone else, that you knew of.

“See that?”

JJ’s breath ghosted across your neck, he stood behind you and placed his palms on your shoulders, “he’s an asshole. You know you can do better.”

“JJ,” you shook him off and turned around to meet his eyes, “this is just how he is. He doesn’t give a shit about that girl.”

“He gives a shit about you though, right?”

“Yes,” you bit the inside of your cheek as a reminder to keep your composure, “he does.”

He laughed, an easy chuckle that made you equal parts furious and peaceful, while grabbing your hand and pulling you toward the rest of the pogues sat around a neighboring bonfire.

“Raise your hand if you think this one can do better than Cameron?”

Everyone around the fire, including Rafe’s own sister Sarah, raised their arms above their heads.

“You guys are not supportive at all.”

The laugh that followed your statement was supposed be happy and jokey but it left your lips hollow and angry.

“No,” Sarah began, “we’re not. He’s my brother and I love him but he is a grade A piece of shit when it comes to the way he treats women.”

She unwrapped herself from John B and stood up, walking over to you and taking your hands in hers, “you do not deserve that. You are better than him.”

“Guys,” you gently squeezed her hands, “I don’t need this. I’m fine. I know how he is.”

“That is the second time I’ve heard you say that tonight,” JJ piped up, “and I haven’t believed it either time.”

His tone was almost cocky, he too had quite a bit to drink, and you weren’t about to get into this with your friends in the middle of a party where everyone could hear you.

“John B, can you give a ride home? I just really want to leave right now.”

The brunette gave you a quick nod of his head and the two of you walked in silence away from the beach and to the Twinkie waiting in the parking lot. You both entered the van in silence and he pushed the key into the ignition, bringing the vehicle to life.

John B drove toward your house without a word, something you were more grateful for than you could say. He pulled into your driveway and you noticed that no lights were on the house. Your parents were either out for the evening or fast asleep, either one was good, it meant you didn’t have to face their innocent questions about your night and your boyfriend.

“Hey,” John B put the Twinkie in park, “you know I’m not here to judge you or your relationship but I just want to say this.”

You prepared yourself for another bashing of Rafe. They happened pretty frequently, especially when JJ was around.

“Rafe is not my favorite person, I’ll never hide that. I’m worried about you. I’m worried this rich douchebag is taking advantage of you and sucking the life out of you. I just want you to know that we’re here. We love you, we have you. Please say something if you need any of us.”

Your heart warmed at his words as you quickly unbuckled your seatbelt and leaned across the center console to give him a hug, “thank you John B, I needed that more than you know.”

Sliding from the passenger seat, you closed the door behind you and turned to give John B a wave before going inside and heading straight to your room. You were used to your friends hating on Rafe but what John B said about the situation had you seriously thinking about your relationship with the charming kook.

The words ‘sucking the life out of you’ repeated themselves in your head as you lay on your side trying to fall asleep.

Your constantly buzzing phone finally pulled you from slumber at, you checked the time before responding to anything else, 2:36am.

Rafe (11:04) where are you?

Rafe (11:16) seriously

Rafe (11:41) what the fuck

Rafe (12:21) you left with JJ? Really? Maybank? REALLY

Rafe (1:18) you went home with Maybank so I’m going home with a blonde too

Rafe (2:04) I’m sorry. I should have paid more attention to you tonight

Rafe (2:17) baby please I’m sorry

Rafe (2:36) call me when you wake up. I love you.

Normally, when this happened, you would be wooed by Rafe’s apology but John B’s words swan around in your head as you noted the forty-six minutes that passed between Rafe claiming he’d take someone home and his apology.

“Fuck this,” you whispered into to your empty room as you tossed your phone to the floor and rolled over to fall asleep once again.

It was 2:46 in the afternoon when you woke up. You’d slept longer than you intended and when you grabbed your phone from the ground you where met with a marathon of messages and calls.

Not counting what he sent the night before, Rafe had called you 14 times and sent 38 text messages. Most of them were angry, some of them apologetic, but the theme was clear: he hated JJ.

You scrolled past the many Rafe’s and found your conversation with JJ.

“J, please text me back as soon as you get this.”

You knew Rafe and you knew he would go after JJ and he would hurt him if he could. Staring at your phone sitting in your hands for about a minute, you decided you couldn’t wait and called him.

JJ’s phone rang and rang and just as you were about to hang up, he answered.

“Hey, sorry, was outside with John B, what’s up?”

“JJ,” you breathed a sigh of relief, “Rafe thinks I went home with you. Watch out for him, I have no doubt he’s on a warpath.”

“Him being on a warpath means he has to publicly declare that you’re someone he actually gives a fuck about, he’s not going to do that or come after me.”

“J, please,” you ran a hand through your hair, “please just be careful.”

“Always am. See you tonight?”

“Yeah,” you had completely forgotten about Kiara’s birthday party, “see you then.”

Walking into the Wreck, things looked mostly normal. The main dining room was full of patrons eating and socializing. The restaurant was on a short wait but you slid past the people in line and made toward the smaller of the two decks off the side of the restaurant.

There were only three tables on the small deck and tonight they were all pushed together for Kiara’s celebration. The usual suspects were present: JJ, Pope, John B and Sarah. Kie’s mom had taken the night off so she was staying permanently while her dad planned to pop in during his free moments.

“You showed,” JJ shouted as he slid out his chair and trotted toward you, pulling you into a hug.

“Of course I did, I would never miss this. Happy birthday Kiara,” you shook off JJ and moved to hug Kie, wrapping your arms tight around her small frame.

Your phone vibrated in your pocket and Kie pulled away enough to give you a questioning look.

“It’s your birthday and I’m pissed at him. All messages remain unread tonight.”

While you enjoyed yourself eating seafood and cake with your friends, you had no idea how serious Rafe was taking your radio silence. You hadn’t responded to any of his texts or calls and the last time you spoke was before the kegger the previous night.

Rafe (7:46) Where are you? We haven’t talked at all today

Rafe (8:04) Seriously what the fuck

Rafe (8:37) There you are. Sitting to next to Maybank huh

Rafe (8:49) Fuck it

The messages remained unread and when your chair was harshly pulled away from the table and your friends began yelling did you realize what was happening.

“Rafe! What the fuck?!” Sarah was the loudest, her words cutting through the air.

“I’m tired of this and I’m done. She’s coming with me.”

You hoped against hope that JJ wouldn’t say anything but you knew better. He never failed to come to your rescue but now wasn’t the time you needed him to do so.

“You don’t get to claim someone when you’re fucking literally everybody else.”

Rafe’s hands were no longer on your body or the chair you were seated in, instead he was charging toward JJ. The blonde had removed himself from the chair next to you and was now standing his ground, nose to nose with Rafe Cameron.

They began to push each other and one particularly hard shove from JJ sent Rafe into the table, causing everyone to jump up and back away from the fight.

“Guys, please! Not here!”

You were nearly in tears, your words falling on deaf ears and they continued to throw punches and accusations.

Time seemed to slow as you took in everything happening in front of you. Kiara’s mom had her arms wrapped Kie as she ushered her back into the restaurant. Pope and John B were both standing in front of Sarah, blocking her off but ready to jump in and defend their friend if they needed to. Various pieces of seafood were scattered across the small deck and Kiara’s cake was destroyed, icing and cake bits stomped into the floor from all the commotion.

Everything had gone wrong. You never went home with JJ and you should have made that clear to Rafe. You should’ve responded to his texts earlier, explaining and begging his forgiveness even though you didn’t really want it.

You ruined Kiara’s birthday and maybe the reputation of The Wreck itself. JJ and Rafe had been pulled apart now but it was too late to salvage anything. Slowly making your way toward the railing, you jumped over the side and landed a few feet below in the soft mud a few feet away from the water.

It didn’t matter that your shoes were thick with mud, you trampled out of the swamp and toward the road. When your shoes were light enough, you broke into a run. It didn’t matter how you looked, everything was ruined and as much as you wanted to place the blame on either of the combative boys, it was all your fault.

All you wanted to do now was fucking disappear.

#jj maybank #jj Maybank x reader #rafe cameron #Rafe Cameron x reader #outer banks imagine #outer banks

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everyhowlmarksthedead · 4 years

Text

❛ LIFE PLAN ❜

with Angel Reyes.

Request: Hi can I please have an imagine where your Angels girl and he and the Mc surprise you at work (I work in childcare) and he gets baby fever watching you works. Thank you x

BY @softi92

Warnings: none.

Word count: about 1k.

Aurora says: this writing hasn't been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I'm sorry about that!

Gif credits: to the author.

Masterlist.

“Teache’…”

You feel some soft pulls to one of the sleeves of your robe calling for your attention, while you control every kid finding their parents at the entrance of the kid garden. Bowing your eyes to the six years old carrying a stuffed rabbit, you squat to her putting away a tuft of blonde hair behind her ear.

“What's up, Sofia?” You ask her with a honeyed tone of voice and a gentle smile on your lips.

“My momma is gonna be late again”. She said somewhat sad, dancing his hips from left to right, really ashamed.

“Okay, com'ere, baby”. You say lifting her up between your arms, with her tiny legs surrounding your abdomen. “You know it's okay. I will wait with you, okay?”

“Thank you, teache'”.

Sitting on a bench, you put well on her unicorns shirt, leaving a kiss on his head. You have known her since four years ago. You have gone to her birthdays parties, because her mother turned into one of your best friends since the first time you had to wait for her. Marta works so much in a cafeteria past the border, in Santa Madre. So, crossing back to Santo Padre, sometimes she's late.

“She hasn't seen us yet, carnal”. Coco says having a puff of his cigar.

But Angel isn't listening, focused on the way you have to lift up the girl and take care of her as if she was your own daughter. Actually, she's also like a niece to him. He has known her since she was two years old, and Sofia loves to call him ‘tío Angel’. She melts his heart every time she does. And even if other days he would have already come to say hello, the oldest Reyes is sitting on his back, leaning forward over the handlebar, so rapturous in the way you look with that kid on your lap. You look radiant, happy, stunning. And his pulse is racing, just thinking for a second that he's looking at his wife holding his little girl.

You have been together for the last three years and he has considered asking you to marry him since the day he met you. That's easy. He's aware about what you feel for him, and that you won't reject it. But, having a child together? The fear of not being a good father kills him. It kills him so slowly, that gives him nightmares.

“Mom!” Sofia jumps off from the bench, running towards her mother, as soon as she sees her.

“(Y/N), I'm sorry”. She says hurried holding her girl, but you raise a hand in silence with a soft smile. “I made Angel and the guys wait for you, sorry”.

Frowning confused, you let your eyes travel through the sidewalk until finding them. How many time have they been waiting?

It's almost midnight and looks like the party just has started. The crowded yard, full of Mayans, are celebrating the opening of a new charter. But you're more focused on your boyfriend, who has been acting really weird for the last two days. Taking the advantage, when you find him alone sitting on a couch on the porch, you lead your feet close to him. Angel is totally assorted in his own thoughts, leaning over his thighs and holding a beer between both hands.

Resting your shoulder against the wooden column, you wait for him to notice your presence, touring the look on his face slowly. He doesn't have secrets from you, but you know that something is happening and not because of the club.

“He—Hey, mi dulce”. He just says clearing his throat, and leaving away on the floor his drink to welcome you on his lap.

Brushing his hair to the back of his head, using your fingers, you surround his neck with your arms leaving a kiss on his temple.

“You're worrying me, mi angel”.

“Why?” He questions leaning on the couch, so you can get comfy against his chest.

“Dunno… You look… lost. Where do you have your head, ah?”

“Nothing happens”. Shrugging his shoulders, you sit up with an incredulous look in your eyes.

“Angel, you can't hide anything from me, babe… Don't even try”.

The oldest Reyes rubs the bridge of his nose, snorting heavily and putting his gaze away from you for some seconds.

“Do you… think I could be a good father?”

“No”.

“Okay, that wa—”.

“You will be the perfect one. And you wanna know why?”

“Yeah”.

“Because you're not gonna commit the mistakes your parents did with you. Don't misunderstand me, I love Pops, but he could be better”. You reply pursing your lips, nodding a little. “But, why are you worried about it… now?”

Angel raises one of his hands to your right cheek, caressing it gently with his thumb, so bewitched profering a sigh of pure love.

“Everytime I see you with Sofia, my legs falter, baby... I want it. I want it with you. Have a crazy kiddo, have a family. Our own family”.

“And…?”

“And I didn't know how to ask'et”.

“Exactly as you're doing it right now, honey”.

“You would marry me, and have a family with me?”

“It's the only thing I want, Angel”. You nod pretty convinced of your words, bowing to his lips to catch them between yours in a soft kiss. “Come with me, baby”.

He looks a little confused when you get up and offer him a hand, helping him to stand up on his feet before guiding him into the clubhouse. The guys are there playing pool and poker, staring at you with raised eyebrows.

“Where are you going?” EZ asks taking off some bottles of tequila from a cardboard box over the bar.

“We're gonna give you a niece, boy scout”.

“Beautiful way to say that you're gonna fuck and cum inside her”.

“Yo! Brother, why the fuck you have to be so fucking specific?” Angel complains lifting up his free arm, shaking his head.

“Yeah, Coquito. You should watch your mouth…” Rolling your eyes, you keep pulling your boyfriend into the dorm zone, looking for his.

✨ Tag list:

@starrynite7114 @chibsytelford @dazzledamazon @mara-mpou @sammskellington @gemini0410 @1-800-imagines @briana-mishell24 @sassymox @aquamento @sadeyesgf @viviansafizada @samcrobae @jade770 @witchy-wish @rebel-without-cause-x @xx--day-dreamer--xx @spiced-reads @tita127 @ifoundmyhappythought @enamouravecleslivresetlechocolat @angelxshiba @destynelseclipsa @sheeshgivemeabreak @abbiesthings @knowles-morgan @lady-pswrld @minnicelli @marquelapage @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @jadesamhart @mycupoffanfiction @claytoncardenasbabymama @thesandbeneathmytoes @phoenixhalliwell @thewarriorprincessxo @sugary-x-sweet

If you want to be tagged, send me a message!

#mayans mc x reader #mayans mc #mayans mc imagine #mayans x reader #angel reyes fanfiction #angel reyes imagine #angel reyes x reader #angel reyes

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nite-shay · 3 years

Text

His Hero Part 4 (Kirishima Eijirou x Reader)

A/N: I don’t know if I’m completely happy about this chapter. I’m trying to get better with witting panic/anxiety/non-humor, so hopefully, next time, it’ll be a little better. Also, sorry for the long time off and just sporadic posting. Works been hell, but now that we’ll hopefully *grain of salt* were getting more people hired, I’ll have more motivation and time to write

Warnings: Panic/anxiety , references to sex and/or sexual acts (nothing descriptive but suggestive) so I guess 18+? IDK how this works :/ If yer too young, offended by sex , sexual acts, sexual reference or don’t know where babies come from, please don’t read.

Word count: 3K

Other then that, please enjoy! :D

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4

*****

Kirishima didn’t protest when Fat sent him home for the day.

‘Go home. Clear your head. Call me if you need anything.’

Honestly, he barely heard his mentor’s words. He just sat there staring at the screen. Watching, pausing, rewinding, and watching again. Over and over again. It wasn’t until Fat picked him up and carried him to the door, did he finally get the memo.

Yeah... he didn’t need to be here right now...

The trip home was nothing but a blur, and honestly, he remembered nothing about it. His body was on autopilot as his mind tried to wrap the possibility that he might have a kid.

A kid… A son… Your son… His son? But… How? Err… Wait!

Ok, he knows the ‘how’ of how kids are made.

Better phrasing, how could this have happened!? He was always careful with anyone he was with! Err, not that was a really long list or anything. Typically, he was only intimate with someone he’s known for a while, and when he was, he’d use a condom, or they were on the pill.

Oh fuck. How could he have let this happen!?!?

Calm down. Calm down.

Maybe he was just overthinking everything? It could just be a coincidence. Sure, he and the kid have some similarity, but hey, there’s like, billions of people on the planet! So some are bound to look alike! That doesn’t necessarily mean they’re related, right? Total chance! That’s it! It’s that stuff we learned in school. Static? No, that’s not right; that was in science. The other thing was in math...Statistics! Yeah, that’s it!

So what if the kid has red eyes? His best bud Katsuki does too!

The sharp teeth? Look no further than his gym bro Tetsu! Hell, depending on the quirk, it can be a super common trait!

The quirk being exactly like his... well, ok, that was… odd. And yeah, he hasn’t run into any with his quirk specifically, but, big but, it doesn’t mean there isn’t someone out there with his quirk!

Or maybe it’s not his quirk! Maybe its a similar one! Really, really, reeeealllly similar.

Total coincidence! Anyone can have those traits!

He just… happens to have all of them… just like the kid… whose mother he just happened to have slept with… around six years ago…

Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck!

The room suddenly felt like it was closing in on him. The air got thinner, making it harder for him to breathe. He jumped off the couch and started pacing. He’s had issues with anxiety for years, and one thing he did learn, when he got like this, he needed to move.

Breath and walk. Breath and walk. Breath and….wait! The kid can’t be more than five! He slept with you six years ago! Ha! The time doesn’t match up! So he can’t be his kid!

His legs felt like jello as the waves of panic finally came to a halt, and took a deep, much-needed deep breath.

He wasn’t a father.

This was a good thing. A great thing!

He doesn’t have a kid. The time frame didn’t add up. He was in the clear.

He should feel happy. Relief. Ecstatic!

So why did he feel like he just got punched in the gut?

He sighed as he made his way to his fridge in search of something to calm his nerves. Beer isn’t his typical drink of choice, but he was glad he kept a few on hand in moments like this. Since he was single and didn’t have a roommate, his place was the place of choice for ‘bro’s night.’

Though sometimes, there was nothing like a cold one to just chill after a long hard day.

He grabbed one of the glass bottles by the neck, activated his quirk, and flicked the lid off with his thumb. Cool little party trick he learned a few years back.

As he tilted the drink back, he took a long hard swallow and let his mind wander. The beer of choice today was one Katsuki preferred. It was good, smooth going down, and less alcohol content. Which was fine. Ochaco, even after giving birth, still couldn’t stand the smell of alcohol. Pregnancy wasn’t a subject Kirishima knew a lot about, but he knew enough to respect it.

He’d seen her hauling ass many adays to the toilet of the slightest whiff of something she didn’t like.

Then the cravings came along, which prompted a few late-night trips to the store by Katsuki or himself if his bro was at work.

He chuckled as he thought about the few times Katsuki had said something to piss her off and sent him over to the redhead’s place for the night. Only to call him back a little while later in tears because of mood swings.

Towards the end was rough, though. She’d been put on bed rest and was in a lot of pain. Katsuki took fewer shifts during that time to stay home and help ease her in any way he could.

Damn, she went through all that for, what almost a year? Maybe not quite a year, but it had to be close.

Was it nine or maybe ten months?

His brain came to a screeching halt, mid-swallow as he started calculating.

Beer spewed out of his mouth and nose as he tried to breathe and swallow at the same time.

The nine months adds almost a year! *Cough* Meaning the kid’s age would make sense! *Cough Cough*

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck! It can’t be true, can it? He… He’d used protection… hadn’t he?

His mind raced as he thought back to that night six years ago.

It was Izuku’s birthday and his girlfriend, future wife Melissa, rented out a small private Terence at a hotel to celebrate. It was small, maybe fifteen people max: just some friends, family, and a few colleges of the green-haired hero.

He was having a few drinks while chatting with Denki and Hanta when he first saw you. That was when he first saw you… You were chatting with your Melissa and Izuku, and damn… he couldn’t stop staring at you. You were so beautiful, and the way you tried to hide your angelic smile every time you laughed made his heart skip a beat.

Eventually, his two friends figured out just what or who had caught his attention. Which brought on a relentless amount of teasing. It took about twenty minutes, a few beers, and an angry blonde for him to finally make his way over to you.

Katsuki, at some point, approached his childhood friend, then proceeded to yell at him for some reason or another. Even on his birthday, the guy couldn’t catch a break. Now that he thought about it, it was over something All Might related. Something about a suit and which version was from what era? You were looking rather uncomfortable (Melissa was used to this) at the aggressive (mainly Katsuki) debate. That’s where he came in. With the help of Ochaco and Melissa, he finally got the two distracted enough to send them to opposite corners of the party.

And then, he was left all alone with you.

He was so nervous that he even stumbled through his own name. Luckily, he played off his nervousness by making light of his two friends. To his surprise, you took his jokes in stride and even had a few comebacks of your own.

The two of you must have talked for over an hour! Just one conversation after another. He’d never met anyone like you before. You were just so loving, kind, and just… wow!

Then things start to get a little fuzzy.

He remembered talking, drinking, joking, more talking, and more drinking.

A weird memory of a drunk Denki yelling, “I swear to drunk I’m not God!” before face planting into the punch bowl.

Then while everyone’s attention was on Denki, the two of you snuck away and back to his room.

A makeout session on the elevator leads to the two of you missing his floor and shocking an elderly housekeeping lady. That was embarrassing but didn’t seem to stop the two of you.

Then things get really, really blurry, but somehow the two of you made it back to his room without any other incidents.

While the rest of his memories were bits and pieces, but he… did remember the most of the ‘activates,’ and it’d been consensual, and yeah… he’d definitely used protection! That much he remembered!

The next thing he knew, it was the next morning, where he woke up alone, with a hangover, and felt better than he had in awhile.

Too bad that feeling didn’t get to last. His phone rang not long after he woke up. It’d been work, a villain was causing trouble, and they needed him asap.

He showered, dressed, grabbed his stuff, and left.

Then… he’d gotten hurt… bad…

Ended up in the hospital for nearly a week.

After he got out, he, well, had an interesting voicemail and charge on his credit card.

He blushed hard as he remembered the hotel’s message regarding the ‘damages’ done to the room. In particular, the ones done to the sheets and headboard. They even sent him pictures!

Damn, he couldn’t believe he lost control of his quirk like that. He hadn’t done that since… well, since his ‘first time.’ That was so embarrassing. Thankfully, he didn’t think he’d hurt you in the process. Of all the pictures and list of damages, blood-stained sheets weren’t listed. Maybe that’s why he never worked up the courage to reach out to you. Even if he didn’t hurt you, he might have scared you...

Wait….

He lost control of his quirk.

Oh… OH SHIT! Realization dawned on him.

Even if he had put a condom on, his quirk might have damaged it!

Then that means… there is a chance he's the father of your son!

FFFFFUCCCCKK!!!!

But wait.

If he really was your son… why haven’t you contacted him?

His footsteps slowed until he came to a standstill.

You would have told him if he was, wouldn’t you?

Granted, the two of you never exchanged numbers, and we’ll it’s not like he did much to reach out to you either, but… You would have known he’s friends with Izuku, so you knew a way to contact him.

Two-way street, buddy. He internally lashed himself.

Between racking his brain and scolding himself, he didn’t hear the knock on his door until the visitor started pounding.

“Oi! Shifty hair! Answer the damn door!” A loud, brash voice that could only belong to one person yelled through the abused door.

Katsuki? Why was he here?

Kirishima hurried over to the door before the blonde got too impatient and blew it down… again. He took a deep breath and put on his brightest and cheerful grin before opening the door to greet his grumpy best friend.

“Oh hey, Bakubro, what’s up?”

“Don’t bro me! Why the hell am I getting called from your boss to check up on you?” He growled.

“Fat called you?” That was a surprise.

“Yeah, he did. Had to switch my patrol around and everything.” He brushed past the redhead, letting himself in. Kirishima sighed as he shut the door behind them.

“I’m really sorry about that. Not sure wh-”

“Don’t start that bullshit with me.” Those fierce red eyes locked on to him. “And drop that fake ass smile. Always hated when you did that shit.” He mutters.

Damn, Fat just had to go and call him of all people.

If it’d been anyone else, anyone at all, he could play this off. A bright grin, crack a joke or two, maybe a few reassuring words, and he could send them on their way.

But not him. No, not Katsuki. Most people wouldn’t in a million years think the aggressive blonde could show anything other than anger. And yeah, the guy was rough around the edges, and he wasn’t the best with words. But nonetheless, here he was.

And sometimes, that’s all that mattered.

Fuck.

“So why am I here?” Katsuki wasn’t backing down, so Kirishima took a deep breath.

“What did Fat tell you?” While his smile didn’t waver, he felt his stomach belly flop to the floor.

“Bastard would spill it, just said you’d need me right and to get over here. Now what the fuck is going on?” While he still sounded angry, there was an underline concern in his tone that most people tend to miss.

Who would have known that would be the thing to make him crack? Well, obviously, Fatgum knew, hence why he sent the blonde over. The great explosive hero was one of the few people that could blow a hole right through his hardened armor.

Both figuratively and literally.

With tears in his eyes, he dropped his bright grin and let the damn of emotion bust. He explained everything that had happened. The robbery, the hospital, you, your son, the night he first met you, the security footage, everything! Hell, he was sure he went into a little too much detail when he described you and that night.

The blonde just stood there shell shocked as he tried to absorb the word vomit hurled at him.

“S-so, yeah… I might… have a…” he couldn’t finish. He just let the silence hang between them.

“You… dumbass.” He sighed quietly, running his hand through his hair before looking him right in the eyes. While his best friend was known far and wide to have a temper, when shit got real, it was eerie how calm and focused he was. “Are you sure he’s your?”

“I-I don’t know. I mean-”

“Have you talked to the mother?”

“N-No!”

“Have you talked to anyone about this?” He pressed. “Does anyone else think you’re the father?”

“No! Well, Fat might, but that’s cause he was with me when I put the piece together. But I haven’t told or asked anyone else about this. Honestly, other than the mother, I don’t even know who else to go-” The redhead piped up. Something flashed in his friend’s eyes, and for a moment, he looked like he was ready to commit murder. Fuck was he made? He hadn’t come to him about this yet!? Of course, he was! He was finding this out because his boss called him, not because he had called him! Some friend he is... “I was totally going to call you about this! I swear! You’re my best friend. This just happened so suddenly!”

“I know you would, Ei. Chill.” The blonde’s features soften for a second, soothing the redhead some. But he could tell Katsuki was trying to keep his temper in check. “I’m not mad at you but, I’ll ask again. Does anyone else know about this?”

“Honestly, I have no idea. I only found out about this today, and I haven’t had any contact with (Y/N) since the other day and well at Izuku’s birthday party.”

“Ok. Stay here for a bit. You need to calm down. We need more information first. If he isn’t your kid, you’re losing your shit for nothing. And if he is... well,” He paused, “Cross that bridge when you come to it.” He pushed the hero towards the couch and made him sit down. “I need to make a phone call.”

Kirishima blinked as his best friend made his way towards his front door. “NOW SIT THERE. SHUT UP AND CALM DOWN!”

*SLAM*

This was a new level of anger for the blonde. He couldn’t stand seeing the redhead like this. He felt even worse, leaving him alone like this. The damn guy lived off socialization with others, so for him to be facing this alone.

Yeah... it really pissed him off.

The blonde stomped his way back to his apartment, which was just a few doors down. He did need to make a phone call; he hadn’t been lying. But it was a call, that big, dense red rock didn’t need to hear.

Fuck. He couldn’t believe this. Did shitty hair really have a kid?

Katsuki made his way inside his home. The home he shared with not only his wife but his newborn daughter.

Fuck. He has a kid… and he never even knew.

As he made his way through the foyer and into the living room, something caught his eye. Something black, orange, green, and tiny laid on top of a basket of unfolded laundry. It was the custom design onesie Momo had gotten for their daughter as a baby shower gift. The custom design was made to look like his hero costume. While he scoffed at the thing initially, he made sure that she wore home from the hospital.

Well, tried. About halfway through the hospital parking lot, she decided now was the best time to need a diaper and outfit change.

Little brat. He smirked.

If you’d ask him a few years ago what he thought of kids, he would have brushed it off, not really caring about it. His hero career was his focus. He needed no had to be number one.

But now that he has a little one of his own, he realized there was more to life than being number one. Was he still going to do it? You bet your ass, but now that he has his wife and his child that climb to the top well, he couldn’t dream of making it there without them.

He couldn’t imagine a world without her. Let alone a world where he didn’t realize she existed.

He whipped out his phone and thumbed through his contacts.

Especially if someone knew about them.

He took a deep breath and hit send.

Someone close to not only the kid but himself.

And still not tell him.

He knows. There’s no way in hell that precipitative little shit doesn’t know!

One ring. Two rings. Three rings.

“K-Kacchan. This is a surprise. You never call. Is everything-” Katsuki cut him off.

“We need to talk. Now.”

****

Links: Part 1, Part 2 , Part 3, Part 4

Thanks for the read! If you want see the other stuff I’ve done, click the link bellow!

MasterList

Tags: @hot-pocket01 , @simpforeveryone , @remember-happy-things

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liibrii · 3 years

Text

Chapter 3: In the light, your name

Ojiro Aran x fem!reader

Series Masterpost || Ch. 1 || Ch. 2

wc: 4.7k

warnings: time skip spoilers, swearing, internalised guilt and shame, intrusive thoughts, self doubt, drinking.

a/n: this only took forever cause I got carried away (what a surprise). if you wanna be tagged in future chapters lemme know, and as always feedback is greatly appreciated!

A step forward, two steps back. Like a dance, just like his mother taught him, dancing and laughing back home, only this dance holds no joy, only cruel turns and twirls and your hand slipping from his as fate whisks you away.

“One Ace special coming up!“ Osamu places a plate of freshly made onigiris in front of Aran. They look amazing, as if taken directly out of one of those fancy cooking books. The practice had been especially gruelling that day and yet Aran has no appetite. All he wants is to go home and sleep. He would have, if Gao hadn't dragged him to the newly opened Tokyo branch of Onigiri Miya.

More out of politeness than really being hungry he takes a bite. It's good, much better than ones he remembers Osamu bringing to practice. “Woah, this is tasty!“

Osamu practically beams at Aran's praise. Even he has changed, notices Aran. Has he grown a little? The grey of his hair is gone, and he smiles so much more. Aran doesn't remember ever seeing him so talkative.

Has everyone changed so much while he wasn't paying attention?

While chewing he pulls phone from his bag, in some silly hope there'd be a message from you. But the screen is empty and seeing his screensaver is almost a mocking to his hopes. What else did he expect? People don't always mean what they say, but a storm doesn't mean to blow away roofs either.

Lost in his thoughts Aran barely takes notice when Gao says his goodbye and other customers slowly start leaving.

Osamu closes the shop then places two more cans of beer on the counter. Without much enthusiasm Aran opens the can and pours the fizzling liquid into a glass. Which drink was it, third? Fourth? For a moment he considers telling Osamu everything. About you, how he feels and how he screwed up. Just to get it out there. But Aran knows Osamu talks to Atsumu, and Atsumu never learned what keeping a secret means. So he blames his sour mood on practice.

Even if Aran was a good liar Osamu'd see through his little ticks. They've been the same ever since elementary school and so obvious; the nervous scratching of his nails, rubbing of his neck. Ever since he'd grown a beard he added rubbing it to the list.

“I should probably get goin',“ says Aran before downing half the glass in one long gulp.

“What's a few more minutes?“ Osamu doesn't bother pouring his beer. “I'll clean up later. Don't have any other plans anyway.“

A low chuckle leaves Aran's lips. “Life goin' that good, yeah?”

“Could say that. Could be far worse. How about ya?“

Aran massages his temples. He's getting light headed and still he takes another long sip. “Like ya said, could be far worse. Had a rough couple weeks. Women, ya know?“

Osamu hums and nods, wisely. “Women. Got dumped, did ya?“

“In a way...“

“What happened, did ya forget her birthday or somethin'?“

Aran laughs. Oh no, he knows exactly when your birthday is. “Said somethin' stupid.“

“Just somethin'? If she gets upset so fast then maybe she's trouble.“

“Wasn't like that. She trusted me and I... had a bad day and took it out on her.“

Osamu takes an onigiri Aran hasn't touched yet. “Have ya apologised?“ He asks with his mouth full. “Should start with that,“ he continues after Aran shakes his head, “treat her to dinner. I know some good restaurants if ya want. Or better, cook somethin' yerself.“ He opens the browser on his phone. “What's her favorite food?“

Aran tells him. “Whichever recipe ya find I can tell ya right now I can't cook it.“

“I found a few even Tsumu can make,“ laughs Osamu still scrolling through his phone. “What's she like? More into fancy stuff or more homey? Fried rice's easy but not very fancy, more of a safe bet. Maybe with an omelette. I can show ya how to make it to look like a panda. Success guaranteed!“

“How can omelette look like a panda? It's yellow.“

“A yellow bear then,“ Osamu shruggs before putting away his phone. “Does she like bears?“

“Does- I ain't sure...“

“Ya don't know?“

“No! Why would I? Is that what ya ask folk ya take on dates?“

“Usually I ask what they think about apple curry.“

“I don't think she likes apple curry... Or maybe she does...“ He gloomily stares at the empty glass in front of him. “Gimme one more.“

Osamu obliges and pours him one more, deciding this is the last one for him. Aran's eyes are getting glassy and he dreamily observes the white foam before downing half the glass.

“We went down to the Kamakura beach,” he says, scratching at his immaculate fingernails. “She looked s' pretty in the sunset... She likes sunsets... I think. Ain't sure 'bout anythin' these days.“

“Everyone likes sunsets,“ nods Osamu. “Never trust people who don't like seein' sunsets. I'm tellin' ya, buy her some udon. Or bring her here, I'll give ya a special discount.“

Aran bursts into laughter. “He'll know then...“ Osamu leans his head to the side, wondering what his old teammate meant by that. “She's ex of a friend.“

“Ow,“ is all Osamu says. That explains everything. You don't date a friends' ex. “Sorry. She sounds great.“

“Yeah, yeah she is... Kinda almost like a whasit's called again, kotatsu? Warm...“ He's just blabbering now, his mind a hazy labyrinth of disconnected thoughts. He misses you, he misses you so bad, and he fucked up, and he doubts cooking you a dinner would repair the damage he's done. Once it would be pretty easy to bribe you with the right snacks but you've changed. You've changed so much he still fears he doesn't know you at all. “Hey Samu? Hav' I changed?“

“Yea? I doubt the old Aran-kun wouldda come to me for advice.“

Corners of Aran's lips perk up. Why is his glass empty? “Yer a good guy ‘Samu. Can ya call me a taxi? I've got practice t'morrow.“

He has to stop visiting Onigiri Miya on the evenings Aran thinks on another morning after drinking and talking with Osamu till late night hours. The cool breeze of the early morning hours is refreshing but isn't doing anything to ease the hammering in his head. Sky without a cloud promises the day to be sunny and hot. Aran's just glad he found his sunglasses ad that the gym has air conditioning.

There's a distant ringing in his ears. Ringing that doesn't stop and causes other people on the train to send him sideway looks. It's because his phone is ringing but he's too focused on trying not to throw up to notice. He only does so once he's walking the short walk from the train station to the gym. Seeing your name over the 'missed call' almost makes him drop the phone. He calls you back, frantically tapping his fingers on his arm, hoping you'll pick up. You don't.

The sun is too bright. Pouring rain would be more appropriate to his mood. Aran's glad he can hide from the warm rays inside the gym. No matter his mood volleyball always takes his mind off things, and even now he hopes it will help him see things more clearly. The thought of you has become a wind chime, singing at every little thing that makes him think of you. Staying focused on the ball in front of him is harder than expected. But first and foremost he's a professional volleyball player with a new season just around the corner. He can't let his team, his fans down. Since your first year of high school you've been his supporter too. He can't let you down.

When his phone rings again he’s in the middle of receiving drills and this call too goes unanswered. Instead your message waits for him.

(9. 45) Aran are u free this Sunday? the shrine down the street is holding a festival. wanna come?

A wide smile spreads over his face. He's more than happy to come he writes back, his smile spreading even wider when only a few moments later you text him place and time.

“Ojiro what are you looking at?“ Gao peers over his shoulder and Aran quickly puts his phone away.

“Nothin'“

“Nothing, ey? Does the nothing have a name?“

Aran rolls his eyes and heads for the showers, ignoring the teasing laughter of his teammates. Honestly, he's too excited to see you to care.

Aran glances on his phone to check the time. Five more minutes and he'll be only ten minutes early. He kicks the small stone form the pavement onto the road. Then he straightens his shirt. Maybe this colour wasn't the right choice after all, maybe you would've liked the red one better. Once in passing Akagi said red looked good on him. He sends you a short message, letting you know he's already here.

Minutes later he catches the sight of your figure manoeuvring between visitors flocking towards the many stands. “Sorry, I got worried all the best mochi'd sell out,“ you apologise, pointing to plate full of different kinds of mochi in your hand. “Samu isn't here yet?“

“No.“ His heart clenches. He didn't even think about the possibility of you inviting anyone else. “He's probably just late,“ he quickly adds, “let me call him.“

“Always late,“ you complain, “tell him I got his mochi but if he doesn't appear soon I'll just eat them myself. Want one?“

He declines the sweet and you shrug. While he waits for Osamu to pick up he avoids looking at you. The call goes unanswered. “I'll send him a message.“

“Tell him every minute he's late is a free onigiri,“ you mumble, your mouth full of delicious mochi. “And he's paying for drinks. I saw a stand with soya smoothies up the street. And a stand with takoyaki.“

“Have ya mapped out all the food stands?“ chuckles Aran.

“Well you know Samu, food is his best motivator. You sure you don't want one?“

He gives in and takes the matcha one. He watches with a fond smile as you stuff an entire mochi in your mouth.

“What?“ you mumble when you catch him staring.

“Ya look like a hamster.“

You roll your eyes in an effort to cover the smile creeping on your face. “Very funny. How's life?“

“It's fine,“ he nods, awkwardly.

“Good.“

“Yeah.“ He rubs his chin. The beard is getting a little long. He glances over at you. He should say something. But what? “I'm really sorry about what I said,“ he finally utters. “I do care. About you.“

“We all say things we don't mean, right?“ The soft look in your eyes makes his throat tighten. He hurt you and yet here you are. Reaching out, again. “It's all water under the bridge. Besides, I really missed hanging out with you. So, where do ya wanna go?“

“Shouldn't we wait for Osamu?“

“Nah. It's his fault for being late, he'll find us. And he better buy us those smoothies. Want one more mochi? You should really try the chocolate one, it's amazing.“

Never again. Aran doesn't want to see you hurt ever again.

The festival is crowded, which is to be expected in Tokyo, and he keeps an eye out for you. The last thing he wants is to lose you somewhere in the sea of people. He stays close, quietly delighting in seeing your excitement over different attractions of the festival. A few times your hand brushes against his, sending a shiver down his spine.

Osamu never shows up, messaging about an hour later he got stuck at work, promising you both as many onigiri as you'd like the next time you come around Onigiri Miya. “A shame. I was hoping to hang out with him while he's still in Tokyo.“

“He'll have time in the future,“ says Aran, doing his best to ignore the pang of jealousy in his chest.

“Probably. But will there be fresh soya smoothie for him to treat me to?“

Aran buys you the smoothie you so crave, grinning upon seeing your excitement. You walk around the festival grounds and from time to time he steals sips of your smoothie. You pout and nag he should buy one for himself but don't stop him.

As night falls you search for a good place to watch the fireworks from. Just after they start Aran puts his hand on the small of your back to gently push you forward so you'd see better. But you don't budge and he bumps into you, his chest to your back. The sounds of festival fade, as if the crowd disappeared and all that remains is you, looking at him, fireworks reflecting in your eyes. The softness of your gaze causes his heart to do somersaults. You snicker and flick his nose.

Tease, he thinks and tickles you. He wishes he could properly put his arms around you and rest his head on your shoulder. He wishes he was here as more than just your friend. He wishes he alone would be enough of a reason for you to always have the same soft look in your eyes.

But if Kita, the perfect Kita Shinsuke, Kita who knew you better than anyone wasn't enough, how could he be?

His hand lingers on your arm for a heartbeat longer. He could try, he could always love you with all he has and hope you'd love him back, hope he could be enough. But if he failed... he'd only hurt you more, wouldn't he? And you've been hurt enough.

During lunch break his phone rings and his hearts jumps, hoping it's you. But instead Osamu's name is written over the screen. A bit disappointed Aran picks up.

“Aran-kun whatcha doin' this Saturday?“ Not even a'hello'. So many years and still so rude.

“Practice till afternoon, then watchin' a movie.“

“Amazin'! Want some company?“

A boys' night out? Why not? It would be nice to spend some time with someone who wasn't his teammate. “'Course.“

Osamu laughs. “Knew ya would. I happen to know someone interested in a blind date. I'll tell her to meet ya at the cinema.“

“What? Osamu I'm not really one for blind dates-“

“The ex of a friend. She's Kita-san' ex, isn't she?“ Aran's silence is an answer enough. “Ya asked me for advice. This is it, go out, try meetin' someone else. Whatever you want to have with her it won't end well.“

Aran knows. He knows all that. He knows you returning his feelings would be the worst case scenario. Sooner or later he'd have to tell Kita. “I know,“ he says. “I know that.“

Osamu doesn't answer immediately, waiting if Aran will add anything else. “Just go on this one date, see how it goes.“

“I'll think about it.“

He does think about it. The entire day in fact. Meeting someone new would be nice and who knows, she might be the one he's waiting for. A part of him, the guilty part that's been way too loud in the past weeks, stays firmly against the idea. Searching for the right one when you're right here. What if this blind date is just a crazy fan who somehow found her way to meeting him? And what about you, it asks? It would be cruel wouldn't it, leading you on while going on dates behind your back.

But he isn't leading you on, Aran argues with the voice inside his head, you're just a friend anyway. He cares about you yes, but only as a really good friend. Osamu is right, you should never be more than that. You're Kita's ex. And you don't date your friend's ex. So why break his heart further?

(17.48) I'll go on the date. send me time and place.

That's the thing about making plans, the moment you make them something else comes up. Just the following day his phone rings, making his heart flutter when he sees your name.

“Hey.“ Your voice alone makes him smile. “I, uhm, I have a request.“

No beating around the bush. It makes Aran wonder if you've been hanging with Osamu so much you picked up his habits. “Oh, do ya?“

“Yeah. It’s is a bit awkward... Listen, I have a very important exam next week but my roommate's gonna have her boyfriend over for the entire weekend. Let's just say earplugs aren't helping and leave it at that, yeah? So, could I maybe crash at your place till then? I just need a quiet place to study. I can sleep on the couch! Or the floor, I really don't care!“

“'Course ya can,“ says Aran without hesitation.

This is how we finds himself sitting with a bunch of your notes in his lap, you leaning on his back explaining one of the questions. There are at least 4 empty mugs on the desk of his living room. He hopes you've left some coffee for breakfast.

He's amazed by how naturally you fit into his life. Almost like the space beside his shoes in the closet was meant for yours and the jacket hanging beside his was always meant to be there. You've even found your favourite mug already. The bedroll on the floor of the living room is the only reminder you're only crashing at his place for a couple of days. If you asked he'd let you stay longer.

The next morning you wake up the same time as him, sipping your first cup of coffee for the day, half asleep and draped in the hoodie he strategically left on the counter last night. You don't even raise a brow when he takes your phone and asks you to unlock it. “I'll send ya a playlist. Just some classical music. It's good for studyin'.“

“Sure,“ you answer in a groggy voice. “Have fun bouncing the ball around,“ you wave him off when he gets ready to leave.

Your sleepy face makes him smile for the rest of the day. Practice runs longer than usual and he returns late, stepping over two stairs at the time. The lights are still on when he enters but there's no answer when he calls out. He finds you behind the desk, so absorbed in your notes you don't notice his approach. When he places his hands on your shoulders you jump and shriek. “Aran!“ You remove your headphones. “Do you want to give me a heart attack?!“ He laughs and you smack his leg before he sits on the floor beside you.

“Is the material so interestin'?“ He looks over your many notes and pushes an empty mug to the edge of the table.

“I was listening to music,“ you rub your eyes. He notices they look a bit reddish. He takes your phone and clicks the play button and music continues. It only takes him a moment to recognise the piece.

“Dmitri Shostakovich, Waltz number 2. My mom's favourite. Used to dance to it with dad every Thursday.“

“That's sweet.“

He stands up and offers you his hand. “Come, ya need a break.“

You take his hand without question, only raising your brow when he places his left hand on your back. “Ya have to put your hand on my shoulder,“ he grins to your more than apparent confusion.

“Oh, right,“ you mumble. “I can't really dance you know. Not waltz at least.“

He gently holds your right hand in his and gives you a reassuring squeeze. “Don't worry, I'll teach ya. I start with my right foot forward, ya step back with yer left, yep, just like that, then my left foot forward,“ you jump in surprise when he turns you around, “and the first turn, now yer right foot forward, then left, and turn. See, it ain't hard.“

“Easy for you to say,“ you disagree, your eyes fixed on his feet and your mind preoccupied with trying not to step on his toes.

“Just follow my lead,“ grins Aran, gently pulling you a little closer.

He counts the steps and beats in his head and step after another you relax and follow his lead. All those Thursdays when dad wasn't home and mom pulled him into taking his place are finally paying off.

“I didn't know you could dance so well.“

Aran laughs at your words and gently pushes you into a twirl under his arm. “I guess there's a lot ya don't know,“ he says when he pulls you closer again.

You follow his steps and soon begin catch on the slightest of his moves. Music changes but you don't let go so you dance on through his living room, off beat and saying quiet 'Sorry's,' every time you step on his toes. The way your brows furrow when you mess up is adorable but Aran doesn't give you the time to ponder over the mistake, pulling you into the next turn with ease and certainty of someone who has danced these steps countless times.

When the last song ends Aran leaves his hand on your back. You're so close, your hand in his. Looking and smiling at him. His eyes linger on your lips. It would take so little to close the space between you. So little that would change so much.

He pulls away.“ Do ya want tea?“

“Don't I always?“ you muse and head to put the water on, then open the cupboard but the last cups stand on the highest shelf and even on your tiptoes you can't reach them. Aran gently pushes you to the side and reaches for them. “Here.“

He pours himself a glass of water then pulls his phone out to check the time. Shit. The blind date. That's today! He glances over at you, making your tea, humming the melody of the last song you danced too. His heart drops.

What is he doing? He can't... This is getting out of control. He clenches the glass tighter. You're so close, he wouldn't even have to fully extend his arm to tap your shoulder. If, right here and now, he told you how he feels, how would you react? He lifts the glass to his lips. Probably not in the way he wants you to. A leap of faith, one that could take him anywhere. To the love of his life, he thinks watching you stir, or to the stone to shatter the friendship you both tried so hard to rebuild. A risk he doesn't have the courage to take.

The half empty glass he leaves in the sink draws your attention. You watch Aran head for the bedroom and you don't think much of it. It's his apartment, he can do what he wants. It's only when almost ten minutes pass that you decide to poke your head through the door to see what he's up to. The clothes he's wearing certainly aren't what one would wear for staying at home. “Going somewhere?“ you ask, curious as to why he's wearing a pretty alright polka dotted shirt.

“I have a date.“ He awkwardly fixes his collar. He doesn't want to meet your eyes.

There's a short silence before you answer. “A date? In this shirt?“

Your judgemental tone makes him turn. “What's wrong with this shirt?”

You scrunch up your nose. “It gives you that,“ you wiggle your fingers, “successful businessman in his forties looking for a wife vibes.“

“What's wrong with that?“

“What's wrong with-?! Aran! You're a professional athlete!“ You enter his bedroom and start looking through the closet. “Don't you get invited to fashion shows and stuff? One would expect you'd get some fashion sense purely through osmosis. Ouch!“ you yelp when he playfully smacks your shoulder. “Here, this one.“ You hand him a shirt of dark violet colour.

He takes it from your hands and inspects it. Then he hands it back. “I like this one better. And I'm runnin' late already anyway.“

You shrug and hang it back. “As you wish Mr. CEO. Wait, are you bringing your date back here?! Shit, I need to clean up my stuff.“

“Relax. I'm not bringin' anyone back. It's a blind date anyway. Ya keep studyin' alright? I'll be very disappointed if ya don't get the highest mark.“

“What do you mean a blind date? Damn, I didn't expect that from you player boy,“ you tease and it's a distraction enough for Aran to miss the forced smile.

“Osamu's idea.“

A small “Ah,“ is all you reply at first. “Get going then, being late is the worst you can be on the first date!“ You push him out of the room. “Have fun, don't say anything stupid, and don't only talk about volleyball.“

“It's not my first date y/n, gosh, stop bein' such a mom. Why are ya so excited anyway?“

“Probably too much caffeine.“

When he returns you're still up. You have two cups of tea ready before he even takes his shoes off.

“So, how was it?“ You push the cup across the table. “Come on, come on, no need to be shy,“ you grin, “tell me!“

Aran rolls his eyes at your sudden excitement. “It was nice, but nothin’ special,“ he tells you.

“Just nice?“ You tap your fingers on the table. Aran recognises the rhythm, it's one of your favourite songs. You sent it to him a few days ago. “Dating must be harder now that you're famous,“ you say, absent-mindedly. “Or is it easier?“

Before answering he takes a cracker from the bowl on the table. “Harder,“ is the answer he settles on. “Ya never know if they're attracted to ya or yer status. What about ya?“ He focuses on chewing crackers and taking small sips of tea, anything to keep from glancing at you.

“Ah you know,“ you sigh, “have enough other problems at the moment. College is messing with my head enough already. Why put another person in the mix?“ This time Aran doesn't miss how your voice trembles, and how you rub your forehead. Maybe you just have a light headache. You do look exhausted.

He changes the subject, feeling the talk of dating is quickly approaching dangerous territory. “How are ya feelin'? With studyin' and all?“

You lean on your hand. “Could be much worse. It's just a lot. Probably should have started with studying earlier.“

“But with work ya didn't even have enough time, right? Don't be too hard on yerself.“

“Actually, I quit. I thought it would help me focus on studying,“ you say upon seeing his questioning gaze.

“Ya know what will help ya study better? Some good night's sleep.“ He takes your empty cup. “I'll do the dishes, ya go ready for bed. No talkin' back,“ he points his finger to your face, “ my house, my rules. No stayin' up past midnight.“

“It's one in the morning.“

“Past time for ya to go to bed then young lady.“

After that you don't protest and before he even finishes doing the dishes you're snuggled on your bedroll and half asleep. Seeing you fills him with warmth. He could get used to this, coming home to you every night. He turns the lights off.

When he lays in his bed he wonders what's with the sinking feeling in his chest. There's anger. Why were you so excited for his date in the first place? Why did you look almost disappointed when he said it was nothing special? He hugs his pillow, thinking he'd much rather it was you in his arms. You must be soft. If only you'd be here, his nose filled with the scent of your shampoo. Teeth of shame sink in his heart. Why does he have to feel like this?

He wants you to be jealous. It's so damn childish, he knows that. It's something his teenager self felt when you hugged Kita after a game but only gave him a high five and a head pat.

How long is he going to keep lying to himself? He's in love with you. Not the you he remembers. You here and now. You sipping your fourth cup of coffee, you frantically flipping through notes wearing one of his old hoodies. That at least hasn't changed; you still steal any hoodie you can get your grabby little hands on. Not steal, he corrects himself, borrow. You borrow them. For an undetermined period of time.

He buries his face in the pillow. You're not the always cheerful manager he remembers anymore. But you are still you.

Tag list: @aonenthusiast @rosecaffelatte @kara-grayson04

#ojiro aran #ojiro aran x reader #ojiro aran imagine #ojiro aran x y/n #aran x reader #aran x y/n #aran x you #hq #haikyuu fanfic #haikyuu x reader #inarizaki x reader #inarizaki x y/n #all that is gold #libri scribbles

29 notes · View notes

izzyfandoms · 4 years

Text

Sleepality - Inky Freckles

SHIPS: Sleepality, background Virmile and Thomgan, and mentioned Dukeceit (though neither of them show up)

WARNINGS: Remus sends one text message with an implied threat (not towards the recipient), very very background sympathetic deceit and remus (they aren't acc in any scenes), mild swearing

GENERAL TAGLIST: @quillfics42 @ajdraws0430 @phantomofthesanderssides @creativity-killed-thekitten @phlying-squirrel @sly-is-my-name-loving-is-my-game @because-were-fam-ily @imtryingthisout @a-creepycookie @emo-disaster @littlestr @spooky-scary-virgil @fuyel @mimsidoodles @soupgremlin @aroaceagenderfluid @birdsbookshiddeninrealbirdsskin @quirkalurk @gingers-trashy-stuff @iinyxtello @justaqueercactus @melodiread

Masterpost

Patton chewed distractedly on the end of his pen, tapping his foot on his bedroom floor as his eyes remained on his clock, watching as the seconds and the minutes ticked by.

Five minutes. Ten seconds.

Five minutes and ten seconds until the moment he turned sixteen.

January 15th, 1:46 am on the dot: the exact date and time of Patton’s birth. Precisely sixteen years after that moment, his soul would open up, and the bond between him and his soulmate would be formed, like an invisible string from one soul to the other. Any ink spilled on Patton’s skin would show up on his soulmate’s, too, and vice versa. Of course, nothing would happen if Patton’s soulmate wasn’t also sixteen yet, but it was still a big moment in his young life.

(If he even had a soulmate, that was. Most people didn’t, but Patton wouldn’t lie and say he wasn’t hopeful.)

Four minutes. Thirty-six seconds.

Patton got up from his desk, pacing around the room a few times before sitting down on his bed, leaning back against the pillows and pulling his knees to his chest. Despite the coolness of his room, and the goose-bumps on his arms, he was dressed in a worn blue t-shirt and pyjama shorts, revealing as much skin as possible, just in case. His father, Roman, had gifted him a new pack of pens – the ones made specially to be safe for skin – and he’d picked out the glittery light blue one, his favourite colour, ready to write.

Three minutes. Twelve seconds.

“Come on, come on, come on,” Patton mumbled.

Three minutes. Seven seconds.

He yawned loudly, stretching and almost dropping his pen. It was late – much later than he usually stayed up. Patton was a well-behaved kid; he went to bed when his father told him to, never stayed out past curfew. He was usually fast asleep by 11pm at latest, so this was rather unusual for him.

Tonight was one of a kind, after all.

Two minutes. Fifty-one seconds.

The tick of the clock was maddeningly slow, every second seeming to take hours. Patton couldn’t wait for when he didn’t have to keep watching.

He reached over to his bedside table, taking his phone and switching it on.

There was one new message, from his uncle Remus, sent a few minutes ago.

UNCLE REMUS

tell your soulmate if he ever hurts you ill rip off his dick and shove it down his throat

Patton sighed, switching off his phone and placing it back down beside him. He wasn’t sure why his uncle was so certain that he had a soulmate – he claimed it was because he was psychic, though his husband, Janus, had chided him and told him not to get Patton’s hopes up.

It was hard not to be hopeful. Impossible.

One minute. Forty-nine seconds.

Patton chewed nervously on his lip, looking over his freckled arms and wondering what exactly he’d write to his soulmate.

Would a simple ‘hello’ suffice?

There was no point in writing a whole paragraph, especially when it was statistically unlikely that Patton even had a soulmate – and even if he did, perhaps they were younger, and their connection wouldn’t start until his soulmate turned sixteen, too.

One minute. Zero seconds.

A minute. A minute. A minute. Just a minute until Patton (maybe) talked to his soulmate for the first time. That was so little time – though it felt like so much.

Patton couldn’t help but burst into delighted laughter, and he was sure that if anybody was watching him, they’d think he was insane. The hope bubbled up inside him, like a cup overflowing with water, unable to be suppressed.

Fifty seconds.

He moved forward, and then lay down on his back, spreading his arms out like a starfish.

Patton tried to keep the hope down, tried to keep it from spilling over even more. Or maybe that was nausea, swirling in his stomach, but it almost felt too good to be that. Too happy. Too excited. Both, maybe.

Forty seconds.

Patton twirled the pen in his hand.

It slipped from his fingers, hitting the carpet with a quiet thump.

He bent down – wobbling slightly and nearly tumbling right off his bed – picking it back up and then sitting up again. He moved so his back was pressed against the wall, and tilted his head up to look at the pattern at the ceiling, counting each swirl.

He glanced back at the clock.

Twenty seconds.

His heart thumped loudly in his chest, and his eyes remained on the clock, watching it tick.

Ten seconds.

Nine.

Eight.

Seven.

Six.

Five.

Four.

Three.

Two.

One.

Zero.

Zero. Zero. Zero.

Patton sat up straight, squeezing the pen tightly, so tightly that his nails dug into his palm.

He pulled off the cap, dropping it on the bed beside him and holding the tip just above his wrist. His hand shook (nervousness or excitement? Both) as he pondered what to write for another moment.

He pressed the pen to his skin.

Hello?

Hopefully that was good enough.

Patton waited a few seconds, almost a whole minute, and then sighed, leaning back so his head hit the wall and closing his eyes. He was disappointed, but he knew that it was his own fault. He shouldn’t have let himself get so hopeful. Maybe he didn’t have a soulmate – that was alright, his uncles weren’t soulmates and yet they were wonderfully happy together.

(But his brother, Emile, did have a soulmate, and there was something amazing about the way he and Virgil could practically read each other’s minds, communicating effortlessly without saying a word. Patton wanted that. He really, desperately wanted that, more than anything else in the world.)

He wouldn’t cry.

He wanted to cry, but he wouldn’t.

His lower lip trembled.

All of a sudden, Patton felt a funny sensation on his wrist, like someone else was writing on it – the non-existent pen so light on his skin he almost couldn’t feel it. Almost.

Patton’s eyes shot open, and he immediately lifted his wrist to stare at it, wide-eyed.

His breath stuttered at the words now written in black ink just below his greeting.

holy shit

Before Patton could truly process what was going on, before he could regain his breath, the sensation resumed, and more words began to appear below those first ones.

guess im ur soulmate lol

Patton couldn’t help but giggle, practically vibrating with excitement.

He picked his pen back up, ignoring the slight stain he’d left on his bedsheets. He’d spilt enough juice and milk on his bed to care about one little stain, especially right now, when he had a much more important thing to focus on.

Oh my gosh!!!!!!

Soulmate!!!

Im Patton!

Patton Picani!!!

thats a lot of exclamation marks babe

Nervousness tinged the edges of Patton’s bubble of excitement, enough that he almost didn’t notice the use of the word ‘babe’, which made his heart skip a beat.

sorry

not a bad thing

its cute

Patton bit his lip, wiggling excitedly as his heartrate increased. He watched as the words continued coming. They were messy, but Patton was sure the handwriting was the prettiest he’d ever seen, though he could admit that he might’ve been a little biased. He would read a million books written in this handwriting.

im Remy

Sanders

my bdays acc the 16th lol

tomorrow

i turn 17

Its my birthday today!!!!

Only after Patton wrote that did he realise how obvious it was – of course it was his birthday – but he didn’t particularly care. The ticking of the clock had faded into background noise, and it was hard to believe it had ever annoyed him so much, though it was impossible for him to think of anything negative right now. He was floating on cloud nine.

happy birthday

were running out of arm space

id have to strip to get leg room

wanna gimme ur number?

Okay!!!

They quickly exchanged phone numbers, and Patton immediately grabbed his phone, creating a new contact labelled ‘Remy’ followed by seven colourful hearts – a rainbow of love. But before he could text Remy, Remy texted him first.

REMY:

what time is it for u

Patton glanced at the clock.

PATTON:

Almost 2am

REMY:

same

Realisation struck Patton, and his eyes widened with guilt and concern. He bit his lip, and quickly resumed typing.

PATTON:

Oh my gosh im so sorry!!!! Did I wake you up?

REMY:

nah babe dw bout it

i was already up

i always sleep late

PATTON:

That sounds unhealthy :(

Get some rest!!!

REMY:

u sound like my dads lol

PATTON:

What are they like?

REMY:

my dads?

its just the three of us

their names are logan and thomas and theyre the sappiest motherfuckers on earth

gotta love em tho

theyre gonna be real thrilled when they find out bout u

bet theyll love you right away

wbu

whats ur fam like

PATTON:

Oh! Well ive got my dad

His name’s Roman

He works in theatre!!! Hes so cool

And I’ve got my older brother Emile hes 22 and hes a therapist

He uses cartoons to help people!!

Hes also got a soulmate his name is Virgil and hes a florist

They got married last year and the wedding was so much fun!!! So many pretty flowers!!!

And I’ve got my uncle Remus hes my dads twin hes a writer and his husband Janus is a lawyer theyre also both so cool!!!

And that’s everyone!!

REMY:

if theyre all as sweet as u sugar then im sure ur all v popular

PATTON:

Well we do have dinner with our neighbours a lot!!!

Mrs Smith gives me lots of candy

Its often stale but I eat it anyway cos shes just so sweet!

Sweeter than her candy lol

Patton’s door suddenly swung open, and he jumped, his phone slipping from his fingers and landing right in his lap. His father, Roman, stepped inside, yawning and rubbing his eyes, wincing at the bright light that hung from the ceiling.

“You still up, Pat?” He asked sleepily.

He squinted, his eyes landing on the still-on phone in Patton’s lap.

“Who are you te- by the glittering horn of a unicorn! Is that writing on your arm?” He sat down, taking Patton’s arm and looking over the words. He then glanced back up at his son, his eyes shining excitedly. “You have a soulmate,” He breathed.

“I do!” Patton exclaimed, bouncing excitedly in place. “His name is Remy and he turns seventeen tomorrow and he’s just so cool!”

Roman beamed. “Wow, I’m so incredibly happy for you, Pat!” He said. Then, he chuckled, his smile turning a little teasing. “But... it’s late, and you really should be sleeping. And I’m betting that Remy should be, too.”

Patton pouted a little. “But it’s a Friday! I don’t have any school tomorrow.”

“But the family’s coming over tomorrow at 10 for your birthday, and I know you. You’re gonna be all grumbly in the morning, instead of our happy-pappy Patton, and that’ll be even worse the less sleep you get.”

Patton drooped, like a little wilting flower, but couldn’t deny that his father was right.

“Okay...” He frowned, picking up his phone, switching off the screen without looking at it, and holding it against his chest. “Can I at least say night to Remy, first?”

Roman smiled. “Sure.”

He leant forward, squeezing Patton’s arm supportively, before pressing a quick kiss to his son’s forehead. Roman gave him one last smile, affectionately ruffling his hair, before pulling back and standing up. He brushed the non-existent dirt from his pyjamas.

“Goodnight, Pat,” He said. “And happy birthday.”

In the excitement that was talking to Remy, Patton had almost forgotten that it was his birthday, and he blinked in surprise as Roman left the room, quietly shutting the door behind him.

Patton then took a deep breath, before switching his phone back on to see whatever messages he’d missed.

REMY:

u rlly r an angel huh

PATTON:

Awwwww!!

Your making me blush

REMY:

thats the goal babe

PATTON:

Such a flirt!!

REMY:

im gonna be ten times more flirty when i get to see ur pretty face in person

PATTON:

How do you know Im pretty?

You havent even seen me yet

REMY:

i can just tell

im awesome like that

i bet ur the cutest person in the whole damn world

the whole damn universe

but while were on the subject of seeing each other

were waiting to meet naturally right?

PATTON:

Yeah!

Its good luck

REMY:

yea

PATTON:

Welp!!!

Dad says I gotta go to sleep now!!

Night <3<3<3

REMY:

night xoxox

Patton switched off his phone, placing it on his bedside table and getting off the bed. He wobbled slightly as he stood up, suddenly realising how tired he really was, and quickly walked up to his fairy lights, switching them on before switching off the main light. He then climbed back into bed, settling in the soft nest of pastel pillows and blankets, and his last thought before he fell asleep was of his soulmate.

He barely knew Remy, but he already couldn’t wait to spend the rest of his life with him.

***

The sound of the alarm from Remy’s phone rang through the room, waking him up suddenly. His immediate reaction was to groan, shutting it off quickly and then returning to the warm comfort of his mattress and pillows and blanket. It was the weekend, he had no plans, so if his dads wanted him up, they could come in and get him up themselves. Remy wanted to sleep.

Then, the memories of the night before flooded back to him, and he shot up in bed, pulling out his arm and staring at it wide-eyed.

The words Patton had written last night had now been washed away – likely to leave room for new words and new conversations – whilst Remy’s words still remained, though now a little smudged and faded. The only sign that Patton’s words had ever been there in the first place was the new word on his wrist, just below his palm, in baby blue, like the ones before.

Morning <3

Remy grinned, jumping out of bed much more enthusiastically than he usually did, grabbing the black pen on his bedside table and rushing to the bathroom, thankfully not bumping into either of his dads on the way there.

He washed his arms as quickly as he could, leaving them a little sore and red, though he didn’t care, and uncapped his pen with his teeth, leaving the lid in his mouth.

mornin

!!!!!

Do you always get up this late?

Remy laughed. The handwriting was a little larger and a little neater than his, and each i was dotted with a heart, which made him even more convinced that his soulmate was probably the cutest person on earth.

what time is it

10:30

later usually

what time did u get up

8:30

oof

i could never

What do you do for school then?

suffer

Remy took the pen lid out of his mouth, pocketing it and twirling the uncapped pen between his fingers, watching as more light blue words appeared on his arm. The sensation was feather-light, barely there, but impossible to ignore.

Aww no!!

I don’t want you to suffer :(

dw babe ive got coffee

life saver

id die without it

100%

Well make sure you don’t drink too much!!!!

Its bad for you!!

dw my dad always tells me that

he keeps an eye on it

Which one?

logan

Okay

There was a brief pause, and Remy almost continued writing, but he got the feeling that Patton wasn’t done, so he just waited patiently, tapping his foot against the tiled bathroom floor.

Do you mind if I doodle on my arms?

I usually do when Im bored but I thought Id ask

I wont if you don’t want me to tho

go ahead

what do u doodle?

I usually just connect my freckles

Like little constellations!!!!

It was impossible to keep the grin on Remy’s face from widening – Patton's enthusiasm was adorable and infectious – and he sat down on the edge of the bathtub, crossing one leg over the other as he pressed his pen to his skin and continued writing.

u got a lot of freckles?

Yup!

Theyre everywhere

everywhere?

Yeah!

one day

im gonna kiss every single one of your freckles

(Perhaps that was a little bold for only their second conversation, but Remy was a natural flirt, and Patton was his soulmate, after all. He’d back down at any sign of discomfort, but so far Patton had seemed receptive.)

every single one

Thats a lot of kisses

not enough

but itll be a good start

A little, swirly scribble appeared just beside the words Remy had written – the universal key-smash equivalent for soulmates writing on their skin. Just the thought that he was already able to fluster Patton so easily made Remy very, very happy. He grinned.

Gtg! Presents time!

Ill talk to you later <3<3<3

later xoxo

Remy fished the pen lid back out of his pocket, capping the pen and pocketing it. He then strolled back out of the bathroom, down the stairs, and towards the kitchen.

His fathers were both sat at the kitchen table, eating breakfast and talking. Their legs were pressed together under the table, and it was clear they’d just been flirting. Both Logan and Thomas looked up when Remy entered the room, surprised.

“What kind of natural disaster got you up before midday?” Thomas joked.

Remy waved his arm, showing off the writing, and Logan choked on his coffee. Thomas patted his back a few times worriedly, and Remy waited impatiently for the conversation to resume, tapping his foot against the floor.

“Is that what I think it is?” Logan asked incredulously, once he was breathing again.

Remy nodded. “Yup. Can I make coffee?”

Thomas nodded slowly, but it was clear he was much more focused on the previous topic at hand.

“You have a soulmate?” He asked. “Oh my gosh! What’s their name? Aren’t you gonna tell us about them?”

“Well, his name’s Patton,” Remy began, heading towards the coffee machine and immediately getting to work to make himself a large mug. “It’s his birthday today – it was actually, like, 2am, or something – and he’s real cute. I think you’ll both like him.”

Thomas exchanged a look with his husband – the former much more openly thrilled, whilst the latter looked more confused, though undeniably pleased. He then stood up, opening his arms immediately.

“I think this calls for a family hug,” Thomas grinned.

Logan sighed, but put his own coffee mug back down, getting up obediently.

Remy groaned. “Really? Before my coffee? Do I have to?”

“Yup! Right now,” Thomas said, wrapping one arm around Logan’s waist and resting his chin on his head, keeping his other arm outstretched, awaiting their son. “This is a big moment! It calls for a family hug. C’mere.”

“There is no point refusing, Remy,” Logan said dryly. “I learnt that a long time ago.”

“Aww, you love me.”

“Of course. That is why we got married, after all.”

Remy groaned again. “Are you two really flirting, right now? Gross.”

“Well, if you want us to stop flirting, you’re gonna have to join the hug.”

Remy sighed exaggeratedly, dragging his feet as he walked up to his dads, reluctantly joining the family hug. Then, he pulled back as quickly as he could get away with, making a face and turning back to the coffee machine. He quickly made himself a large mug – with excessive amounts of milk and sugar, something his father would usually criticise, though he seemed to turn a blind eye for today.

Remy then sat down at the table, beside Thomas, sipping eagerly at his coffee and leaning back in his chair.

His fathers didn’t take their eyes off of his arm, clearly reading the words, and after about a minute, Remy rolled his eyes, placing the coffee on his table and crossing his arms.

“What are you looking at?”

“Attitude, Remy,” Thomas sighed. “Be nice. And we’re looking at your arm because we’re excited! You have a soulmate, that’s a really big deal! We should celebrate.”

Remy perked up. “Celebrate?”

Logan nodded in agreement. “Perhaps tonight we could have dinner at the Italian place that you like.”

“Ooh, the one with that fancy pasta?”

“Weren’t we planning on going there tomorrow?” Thomas asked his husband.

Remy blinked, surprised. “We were?”

Thomas blinked, and then gave his husband a slightly sheepish smile. “I don’t think I was supposed to tell you that.”

Logan sighed. “Well, I think we can put that off for tomorrow, then. Today... you may invite a few friends over.” Remy opened his mouth, but Logan quickly continued, interrupting him before he could speak. “Three friends, maximum. No parties.”

Remy pouted. “Only three? Lame.”

“If you complain, we’ll bring it down to two.”

“Three sounds great!”

***

Patton picked up his phone, holding it to his ear as he paced casually around his room.

“Emile!” He greeted. “How are you?”

“Happy birthday, Pat!” Emile greeted cheerfully, and Patton could practically hear the usual smile on his face. “And I’m doing great. Virgil invited his brother to dinner yesterday, so that was fun, and I had a real breakthrough with one of my clients, too. You?”

“I’m good! Hey, do you think this counts as Remy and my anniversary? I mean, I know we haven’t actually really met, yet, but it’s been a year since we first spoke, and we are soulmates. Does that count? Would it be weird to count it?”

Emile hummed. “I think that if you want it to count, it counts.”

“That’s a bit vague,” Patton sighed.

Emile laughed. “That’s just how it works, I’m afraid. How is Remy anyway? It’s his birthday tomorrow, right?”

Patton perked up at the opportunity to talk about his soulmate. “Remy’s great! He got a new job at the Starbucks near his house; he’s pretty excited about it. And yup, it’s his birthday tomorrow! He turns eighteen. It’s a funny coincidence, isn’t it? That our birthdays are so close?”

“It’s actually a lot more common for soulmates to have these similarities than you’d think,” Emile said. “Close birthdays, close locations, things like that. I mean, Virgil and I were both born in the same hospital.”

“Really? Oh, that’s cool!” Patton smiled.

He sat down on his bed, pulling his legs up to sit cross-legged, and moving so his back was against the wall, half-sitting on one of his pillows.

“Yup! I’ve researched a lot about these things,” Emile said. “And- oh, Virgil, there you are!”

Patton heard rustling on the other end of the line, like Emile was temporarily putting his phone down, probably to greet and kiss his husband. He waited patiently, humming a song from the Steven Universe movie and drumming his fingers against his leg. His eyes scanned the various words written across his arms. Shiny black and glittery light blue. There were doodles, too – lines connecting the dots of his freckles, done by himself, and little stars and moons and hearts by Remy.

Then the rustling resumed, more movement, and Patton stopped humming.

“Morning, Pat,” Virgil greeted.

Patton smiled. “Virgil! How’s work going?”

“Not bad. I helped a guy arrange a hate-bouquet for his ex-boyfriend yesterday, so that was fun.”

“Sounds interesting!”

Virgil hummed in agreement, and it sounded like he was nodding. “I’m gonna hand the phone back to Emile, now. Happy birthday, kid.”

“Thanks!”

There was another moment of rustling, and then Emile returned.

“Okay, Virgil and I have to get to work,” Emile said. “We’re stopping by later for dinner, dad already knows. And, before you ask, no I will not tell you what your gift is, you’re gonna have to wait and see.”

Patton pouted. “Aww, okay. Bye!”

“Bye!”

Patton hung up the phone, before switching over to the texting app, and opening up his conversation with Remy.

PATTON

Hey im running out of space

So im gonna clean my arm

Can you too?

Remy responded almost immediately, as he usually did.

REMY

sure

one sec

Patton smiled, getting up and pocketing his phone. He headed over to the bathroom, quickly scrubbing away the words on his arms (he could leave the ones still remaining on his legs and torso, for now), and watching as Remy’s words disappeared at about the same time.

He then returned to his bedroom, sitting back down on his bed and fetching and uncapping his favourite pen.

The moment the tip of his pen touched his skin, a small black dot appeared just below it, like Remy was doing the exact same on his side – unintentionally trying to write in unison. All of a sudden, a wave of peace and happiness washed over Patton, but the emotions didn’t come from within himself. No, they came from an outside source, from somewhere else. Not from him.

From Remy.

At first, Patton was confused, disoriented, and then his heart skipped a beat, and he lifted his pen from his wrist.

The feeling stopped.

He then returned the pen to his wrist, creating another dot of light blue ink. For a moment, nothing happened, the feeling didn’t return, but then a small black speck appeared just beside his.

This time, the happiness was joined by an almost cautious excitement, tinged with something else.

What was it?

Love?

Love.

It felt like Patton was loving himself, except the love came from elsewhere, it came from Remy. Like a warm, comfortable blanket of love, wrapping around him and keeping him safe.

Patton beamed, wide and toothy and delighted, leaning back against the pillows and practically wiggling with excitement, careful to keep his pen tip on his wrist. A similar, thrilled feeling came back at him, and Patton quickly realised that whatever feelings he was getting from Remy, Remy was probably getting some very similar feelings in return from him.

damn babe

either something v weird is happening to me or thats ur feelings im feeling

I can feel it too!!!

Oh my gosh!

good i was worried i might be drunk

Have you been drinking?

nah thats why i was worried lmao

would be v weird to be drunk with no booze

Well that sure would be unusual!

The feelings from Remy weren’t constant, they only surfaced when both Patton and Remy were writing at once – flashes of emotions that were practically addicting. He wanted to keep feeling those feelings forever.

this is v weird

on and off

think itll get more constant the more we talk?

like we wont need to be both writing at the same time to feel it or smth?

Yeah!

I think so

Thats what happened with Em and Virge at least

cool

cant wait

There was a brief pause, and then Remy’s writing resumed.

can we doodle?

might make the empathy connection thingy better

Sure!

Patton giggled, unable to help himself, before pressing the tip of his pen to one of his freckles and drawing a thin line from it to another. Then another and another and another. Over and around the written words. He wasn’t making any specific shape or pattern in particular, just connecting the numerous dots. As he did this, Patton felt new shapes and doodles appearing on his legs, though he couldn’t see them through his trousers. Hearts and stars and moons and pawprints, most likely. The last one was new – Patton’s favourite.

He could feel Remy’s peace and contentment and love (love, love), like it was flowing through the air and seeping through his skin, filling him with happiness. Sometimes, it even increased for a brief moment, usually just after Patton’s happiness bubbled over into delighted giggles. It was a cycle – happiness creating happiness creating happiness.

Patton loved Remy. Remy loved Patton.

Love. Love. Love.

***

“Hey, Remy!”

Remy glanced up from his phone, straightening up as noticed and watched his best friend, Toby, approaching him. His foot tapped impatiently against the pavement, and his sunglasses were on to shield his eyes from bright midday sun.

“Gurl, what was taking you so long?” Remy complained, stuffing his phone into his pocket and crossing his arms, practically pouting. “I’ve been waiting here for, like, hours.”

Toby gave him a dry look. “I’m ten minutes late.”

“And that’s, like, ten hours in gay-and-in-a-hurry time.”

“In a hurry? What the hell are we even doing? Your text was very vague.”

“Well, it’s my dad’s birthday in a-”

“Which one?”

“Thomas. Bitch, stop interrupting me.”

Toby laughed, and Remy glared at him. He held his hands up defensively in mock surrender, and then gestured for Remy to continue.

“Anyway, it’s my dad’s birthday on Sunday and I’m supposed to get him a gift. I dunno what, though, so you’re gonna help me.”

“I’m pretty sure you know him better than I do.”

Remy shushed him. “Gurl, I am not letting you get out of helping me. So, we’re going to-”

He suddenly froze, going silent. Remy’s brow then creased, too, and after a moment of stillness he began to rapidly pat his arms and legs, like he was looking for something, though he didn’t seem to find it. Toby gave him a bewildered look.

“Dude, what are you doing?”

“I can feel Patton’s emotions,” Remy said.

He could, but only barely – just little hints of Patton, pricking the edges of his soul – much less than he was used to, but still impossible to ignore. He was used to these feelings by now, always recognising them immediately, though this time it was... different.

“Okay... so, he’s writing to you? Isn’t that normal?”

Remy looked back at him, looking just as confused as Toby. “No, he isn’t. He isn’t writing to me. No ink.”

“He... isn’t?”

“I can always feel it,” Remy explained. “Always. But not right now. Why... why-” He froze, his eyes widening behind his dark sunglasses.

“What?”

“He must be close. He must- oh my god, he must be close!” Remy looked around quickly, at all of the surrounding pedestrians. None of them looked right – none of them were Patton – but he could practically sense him. He was so close.

Toby blinked. “Really?” He asked incredulously.

“Yes. Yes, really. I know what I’m talking about!” Remy exclaimed, perhaps a little harsher than intended. “The empath shit only happens when you write or when you’re close. Gurl, that’s, like, common knowledge.”

Toby held his hands up. “Right, uh... sorry.” He cleared his throat. “So, how are we gonna find him?”

Remy’s brow scrunched up in thought. “I don’t know.”

His best friend shrugged, even more lost than he was.

“Maybe... maybe...” Remy continued, trailing off, before he suddenly straightened up. “It’ll get stronger the closer I get to him, so I just have to follow where it’s stronger, right? Like... like getting warmer and colder.”

Toby nodded slowly. “That makes sense. So, uh, walk around, and we’ll go in the direction that makes it stronger.”

Remy immediately began to pace in circles around Toby, pulling a slightly panicked face when at one point the feeling completely disappeared. Then, it got stronger, a wave of anticipation and curiosity, nervousness and excitement.

It suddenly hit Remy that if he could feel Patton, then Patton could feel him, too.

Patton was probably looking for him.

The corners of Remy’s lips twitched up into a smile. He was practically oozing excitement, and it was contagious, as Patton’s also seemed to increase – even Toby began smiling, too.

Toby patted him on the shoulder.

“Go on, follow your gut. I’ll be right behind you.”

Remy immediately turned on his heel, sprinting in the direction the emotions seemed to be coming from, and Toby almost tripped over his own feet following him. The empathy got stronger and stronger and stronger with every step, until it was even stronger than it usually was, and as his excitement further increased, so did Patton’s.

He rounded a corner, and immediately ran right into someone running at a similar speed, and they both tumbled to the ground with two loud thumps.

“Ah, fuck,” Remy groaned, closing his eyes and massaging the bridge of his nose as a jolt of pain shot down his leg.

“Oof,” The other boy winced.

His voice was like a bell, ringing through the air: suddenly the only sound that Remy could hear.

That was when Remy realised that Patton’s emotions were now equal to his own – mixing together in Remy’s soul until they were one and the same. It was almost like they were thinking and feeling as one, which was rather disorienting, to say the least.

Patton... Patton was right in front of him.

Remy opened his eyes, immediately coming face-to-face with the most gorgeous person he had even seen – a wide-eyed and freckled boy, about a year younger than Remy, staring back at him with parted lips and an equally startled expression. He was wearing a blue and grey t-shirt, showing off his arms and the words Remy had written to him today, and all the constellations he’d doodled on his own skin. Now, Remy could see the stars that he’d been missing, and, in his opinion, they were even better than the ones in the night sky.

Patton.

Patton, Patton, Patton.

“Patton,” Remy breathed.

“Remy.”

Remy laughed, uncontrolled and loud and delighted, sitting up straight and taking Patton’s hand in his own, squeezing it. It was warm and soft, Remy never wanted to let go, and when Patton squeezed back, he felt... complete. Perfect. Heaven.

Patton smiled – like a shining sun, one that thankfully didn’t hurt to look at, as Remy couldn’t take his eyes off of it.

“Wow,” Remy laughed. “You’re... wow.”

“Wow,” Patton echoed.

People were probably staring at them – Toby included – but Remy couldn’t take his eyes off of Patton to check. Patton seemed to be doing similarly, his eyes slowly taking in every part of Remy’s body, before returning to his face, staring into his eyes.

Patton’s eyes were brown, like honey in the sunlight. Beautiful.

“It’s... it’s nice to finally meet you,” Patton said softly.

“Likewise.”

There was a beat.

“You are gorgeous,” Remy continued, the words coming out before he could stop himself. He almost regretted blurting it out, but then Patton’s face turned a particularly pretty shade of pink, and Remy immediately grinned.

Patton squeezed his hand. “You, too.”

“Oh, I know I’m hot, babe,” Remy said, making Patton giggle. “But you, you’re... you’re an angel. Like, damn, how the hell did I get so lucky? I must’ve done something really freaking amazing in a past life to have deserved you.”

“You’re even more of a flirt in person,” Patton smiled, a little teasingly.

Remy laughed. “I mean, I’m pretty sure I warned you.”

“You did,” Patton said, smiling fondly.

“Is it too soon to ask if I can kiss you?” Remy asked suddenly. His tone of voice was casual, like he was joking, but they both knew – Patton could probably sense – that he was serious.

Patton didn’t hesitate, answering quickly. “No. I mean, yes. I mean... no, it’s not too soon. Please?”

Remy didn’t waste any time, reaching forward, carefully cradling Patton’s face in his hand and kissing him gently. His lips were soft and warm and Remy never wanted to stop kissing him. Patton covered Remy’s hand with his own free one, kissing back a little clumsily, though it was without a doubt enthusiastic.

Then, he got a little too enthusiastic, and Remy tumbled backwards, pulling Patton along with him.

They broke apart, and after a moment of startled – slightly awkward – silence, they both started laughing loudly, and Patton climbed off of him. He finally stood up, holding out his hand and helping Remy up, too.

The pedestrians that had been watching them had mostly all moved on by now, leaving only Toby hovering awkwardly nearby. He had his phone out, trying to distract himself, give them some privacy, though he was undeniably still keeping an eye out. It wasn’t every day you saw a soulmate pair’s first meeting.

Remy took Patton’s hands in his own, looking him over again and again and again.

An idea came to him – not a new one, one he’d thought about and talked about and dreamed and daydreamed about a million times – and he grinned in a way that he could feel made Patton’s heart skip a beat.

“Remember how I said I wanted to kiss every freckle?"

#me #writing #sleepality #sanders sides #remy sanders #sleep sanders #patton sanders #mosleep #soulmate au #human au #sanders sides au #thomas sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #emile picani #cartoon therapy #virmile #thomgan

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howtosingit · 4 years

Text

Fic: Somebody Misses You When You’re Away

TK returns to New York City for the first time since moving to Texas, and Carlos faces his own insecurities back in Austin.

Written for @tarlosweek2020 - Day 1: “Are you wearing my hoodie?” + Fluff

3.7K | Also on AO3.

-----

Carlos taps his fingers against the hard, wooden tabletop, his eyes fixed on the phone in front of him. While he watches, the screen goes dark due to inactivity, and he lets out a sigh, his heart clenching in his chest.

“You look really pathetic, you know that?” Michelle says, and he glances up to find her staring at him from the other side of the picnic table, her head tilted to the side as she sucks her milkshake through her straw. Carlos can see a teasing glint in her eyes, but there’s something else there too, something like pity, and it just makes him feel even smaller.

“Yeah,” he admits, leaning forward to rest his head in his hands, “I know I do.”

From his new position, Carlos can’t see Michelle’s face, but he feels her hand on his wrist where she reaches out to touch him, rubbing her thumb soothingly along his pulse point. “Do you want to talk about it?” she asks gently.

This time, Carlos lets out a small groan, hoping to convey exactly how dramatic he knows he’s being. “It’s completely ridiculous, I know, but I miss him.”

When he gets no response, Carlos looks up again, catching the half-smile and gentle gaze of his best friend. “What?” he asks, raising his eyebrow in confusion. He definitely thought she’d laugh at him.

“You are just the softest soul, Carlos Reyes,” she responds, shaking her head slightly. “It’s hard to believe that you exist sometimes.”

Carlos feels a blush rise on the back of his neck and to the tips of his ears, rolling his eyes as he looks away in embarrassment. “You sound like TK.”

“That’s because he knows how good he’s got it,” Michelle fires back, no heat in her claim as she ducks to catch his eye. The statement sticks to Carlos, hitting at his current train of thoughts. The fear that maybe Michelle has finally learned to read his mind causes a grimace to take over his face. “Ah, looks like I poked something there,” she says in response to his reaction.

“I feel like I’m going crazy here, chica,” he grits through his teeth, the unsettling thoughts that have kept him up for the past few nights flying to the forefront of his mind.

“It’s okay to miss your boyfriend when he’s out of town, Carlos.”

“Is it?” he asks, his voice cracking slightly as his fears threaten to take over. “Because it’s only been four days, and it’s not like I don’t hear from him. We text or talk every night before bed.”

“Well, that’s a good thing!” Michelle practically yells, her eyebrows furrowing as she gestures widely as if all of his problems are solved by that one admission.

“Then why do I feel like I’m going to lose him?” Carlos whispers, biting down hard on his bottom lip to contain every other dark thought that’s been swirling around in his head.

Michelle’s arms drop back down to the table, her hands moving to cover his own on top of the table. She gives him a penetrating look, and after years of friendship, Carlos knows that she’s trying to pick up on everything that he’s not saying out loud.

“Why would you be thinking that?” Michelle hedges, tightening her grip on him.

“He didn’t choose Texas,” Carlos starts, looking down to avoid any judgmental looks that she might give him, “and he loves New York. He’s sending me all of these pictures of his favorite places, and when we get to talk, he seems so happy and excited to be back there.”

“Carlos--”

“What if he decides that’s where he wants to be?” he pushes forward, his voice breaking again. The thought makes his heart beat rapidly, the fear of TK leaving him coursing through him like an untamable fire.

“Didn’t he already consider moving back to New York, when he got shot?” Michelle reminds him, leaning closer. “He stayed, Carlos. He picked the 126, he picked you!”

“Yeah, but now he’s back there and it feels different. He’s remembering his entire life there, and it wasn’t all bad, ‘Chelle! What if he comes back and no longer feels like this is where he belongs?”

“Then he’ll talk to you about it!” Michelle exclaims, jumping up from the table to move to Carlos’s side. She wraps her arms around him, pressing her chin into his shoulder. “Carlos, you guys have been together for almost three months, and I know it started off a little crazy, but you two have built something solid. You love him, I know you do.”

Carlos takes a deep breath, the words cutting through him. “I do,” he agrees. “I love him so much, Michelle.”

“Have you told him that?”

“We’re not there yet,” Carlos says. “It’s only been a couple of months, I don’t want to scare him by moving too fast.”

Michelle huffs out a breath, dropping her forehead against his shoulder as she lets out a groan.

“Carlos, how many times do we have to have this conversation?” she starts, her voice serious, like she means business. “You can’t hold yourself back to make other people comfortable. It’s not fair to yourself. If you’re worried he’ll leave, you have to tell him the truth.”

“Michelle, you don’t get it,” Carlos says, turning to face her. “If TK decides that he wants to move back to New York, I’m not going to try to stop him.”

“What do you mean?” she asks, pulling back to look at him, the shock clear on her face. “Why wouldn’t you?”

“I just want him to be happy, Michelle,” he tells her, tracing the lines on his left palm thoughtfully. “I love him, I do, so much, but if New York is what makes him happy, if it’s what he wants, I’m not going to stand in the way of that. I don’t want to be that kind of person.”

“Oh, honey,” Michelle sighs, leaning her head against him again. “They really don’t make many men like you, Carlos Reyes.”

He wishes that made him feel better.

-----

When TK first told him that he was going to New York for a week to see his mother for his birthday, Carlos was really excited for him. They had talked a lot about his mom before, and Carlos knew that his boyfriend missed her a lot. He was truly happy that TK would get to spend some quality time with his mom, just the two of them in the city.

Except, there’s also the fact that it means they’ll have to spend an entire week apart.

In the two and a half months that they’ve been dating, he and TK have spent as much time as possible together. They both have insane work schedules that don’t always line up, but they make up for it where they can. When he’s working a late shift, TK will bring him takeout if he’s off, and they’ll eat together in the park next to his station. When TK is on a long shift, Carlos will sometimes stop by the 126 and hang out with the crew. He and Paul have become really good friends, and he enjoys the camaraderie that he finds with the team.

When their schedules do line up, TK usually stays the night at his place, and they like to wake up early and go for runs together before making breakfast - TK handles the fruit and toast, Carlos does the eggs and turkey sausage. It’s become a part of their routine, along with spur-of-the-moment nights out, exploring Austin.

The point is, they try to spend a good amount of time together, something that they both enjoy. Judd likes to joke that they’re still in the honeymoon stage of their relationship, and one day they’ll get sick of each other. (TK calls him a liar, knowing only too well how much Judd loves to spend time with Grace, even after years of marriage.) They haven’t really had the opportunity to miss one another yet, keeping each other in the loop about what’s going on in their lives regularly. It’s not that they’re dependent on one another to have a good time, but they’ve both been pretty clear about how committed they are to each other, and to building a strong, healthy relationship together.

So, when TK goes to New York for seven days, Carlos freaks out a little bit.

He doesn’t mean to, he actually tries really hard not to, but his insecurities are a little too strong for him to overcome them completely.

It starts with just missing his boyfriend. The sight of his smile, the twinkle of his green eyes, the way that his uniform clings to him when they see each other on a call. TK still texts him pictures, and they talk on the phone a couple of times, when they can find a moment. It’s not that his boyfriend ghosts him for a week.

It’s just different, and he’s trying to adjust. He’s trying to be normal. He hasn’t told TK anything, he hasn’t acted weird when they’ve talked; he’s answered all of his texts because he loves texting TK. He’s so, so happy that TK is having a good week with his mother in the city that built him. He would never want to ruin that.

It’s just that Carlos loves him, and misses him, and can’t wait to see his face again.

-----

TK texts him the morning that he’s due back in Texas, reminding him of his arrival information, as if Carlos hasn’t gone to bed every night looking at the note on his fridge.

He parks his Camaro in the lot closest to the terminal, willing to pay the fee if it means getting to see his boyfriend sooner, before heading inside to wait. He’s way ahead of schedule, his impatience pulling him out of his apartment and towards the airport earlier than necessary. Still, he takes a seat at the edge of the baggage claim area, pulling his phone out to make sure he hasn’t missed a text from TK.

Thirty minutes later, his phone chimes with a message from his boyfriend, letting him know that he just landed and he’ll be out to see him soon. Carlos jumps to his feet, a wide smile on his face at the thought that they’re finally in the same timezone again. He feels ridiculous and gets so distracted by trying to talk himself down to a normal level of excitement that he doesn’t spot TK until he’s less than ten feet from him.

“Hey, you!” a familiar voice calls out, and Carlos feels the way all of his anxieties and insecurities fade into nothingness when he turns and takes in the man he loves.

TK is dressed for comfort, rocking his day-off sweats and a hoodie, but Carlos swears that no one has ever looked more stunning. That, plus his unkempt hair, no doubt from sleeping on the flight, melts his heart to a liquid mess inside his chest. Before he can even consider it, he’s diving towards his boyfriend to pull him into a tight hug, burying his face in TK’s neck to press a kiss to his soft skin.

TK laughs gently at the reaction, wasting no time in wrapping his arms around Carlos’s waist. They stand there for a few moments, taking their fill, before TK moves away slightly. Carlos, thinking that his boyfriend probably wants some space, let’s him go, but before he can step back, TK is gripping his neck to pull him into a chaste kiss.

Carlos closes his eyes at the contact, fireworks exploding behind his eyelids. This week is the longest they’ve gone without kissing, and he definitely forgot how mesmerizing it is to be close to TK in this way. He may not have gone anywhere, but kissing his man always feels like coming home.

“I really missed that,” TK breathes out when they separate. Carlos huffs out a shy laugh, ducking his head to press their noses together.

“Me too,” he says.

TK gives him a smile, turning towards the baggage claim. He reaches for Carlos’s hand, interlocking their fingers as they stand side-by-side, waiting for TK’s bag to appear.

“How was your mom?” Carlos asks, his curiosity about how TK’s feeling right now getting the best of him.

“So good!” TK says, his eyes bright as he launches into the recap of his week, telling Carlos all about the surprise party they planned for his mom. He remembers TK being really excited to help with the preparations before he left.

They’re walking towards the car, hands still linked, when TK pauses mid-sentence and turns to look at Carlos.

“Are you wearing my hoodie?”

Carlos stops in his tracks, looking down at the outfit he quickly threw on before leaving the apartment. He’s unsurprised to find TK’s yellow hoodie stretched across his chest; in his boyfriend’s absence, he’s taken to wearing it around his apartment whenever he was really missing him. Up until yesterday, it even still smelled like TK.

“Um, possibly,” he answers, a small grin forming at the corner of his mouth as he gives TK a sheepish look. “Sorry?”

“Don’t be,” TK assures him, leaning towards him to press their lips together again. “I like seeing you in my clothes.”

“You do?”

“Yeah,” TK laughs, dragging Carlos across the lot towards his car. “Though I should probably start buying them a size up if you’re going to be stealing them from me.”

A strange hope fills Carlos’s chest, and he can’t help but notice how TK’s joke implies a future investment in their relationship.

“So,” he starts, popping his trunk so that TK can throw his bag inside, “you want me to take you home?”

“Actually, if you’re okay with me using your shower, can we go back to your place?” TK asks, stepping close.

Carlos wraps his arms around him, his hands coming to rest at the base of his spine.

“You can use my shower anytime,” he mutters, pressing their lips together again, determined to catch up on all the kisses he missed this past week.

-----

Carlos flits around the kitchen while TK showers, throwing together a quick snack for the two of them. There’s a smile on his face the entire time, a response to hearing the running water from the bathroom down the hall. Nothing about this moment is anything to throw a party over, but after a week of thinking through worst-case scenarios, he’s going to soak up every single moment of having his boyfriend back in his apartment.

TK comes out in a different pair of sweats and a soft t-shirt, toweling his hair dry.

“I made you some lunch,” Carlos says from the couch, smiling when TK lets out a groan and dives forward to grab a chip from his plate.

“You are a literal dream, babe,” he sighs, dropping down next to Carlos and pressing a kiss to his cheek.

Carlos flushes, turning to take a sip of water to avoid responding, but he can’t help the smile that pulls at his lips.

“And you in my clothes?” TK starts, taking a bite of his sandwich. “Also an actual dream I’ve had before.”

Carlos laughs, his heart pounding in his chest. He remembers the advice Michelle gave him a few days ago and his mind spins, wondering if this is a moment where he can be a little more honest with TK about what he’s feeling.

“It, um,” he begins, breathing heavily through his nose as he pushes forward, “it stopped smelling like you yesterday.”

He feels TK shift next to him, pressing their knees together. Carlos glances up at him nervously, surprised to see TK giving him a strange look. Then, his boyfriend leans in, pressing his face into his shoulder and inhaling deeply.

“It smells like you now,” TK whispers, pulling back, his green eyes glinting softly. “You wore it a lot while I was gone?”

Carlos nods, maintaining eye contact. “Whenever I missed you, which, not to sound too lame, was kind of all the time.”

TK sucks in a sharp breath at the confession, his eyebrows furrowing slightly. Then, without warning, he gets up from the couch and moves towards the door, his sudden absence like a hot knife through Carlos’s chest.

“This stopped smelling like you after the fourth day,” TK starts, his back to the room as he digs through his bag, “but I still wore it to bed every night.”

He turns, and Carlos realizes that he’s holding his own grey zip-up hoodie, the one that he puts on after he showers, before he has to get into uniform for work. Carlos hadn’t even realized it was missing.

The tear falls unexpectedly, as does the overwhelming feeling of relief that, just maybe, TK struggled with their distance this past week, too. Before he can duck away, or go somewhere to pull himself together, TK is crossing the room and planting himself on the floor in front of him.

“Hey, what’s going on?” he asks, reaching forward to brush the tear from his cheek.

“It’s nothing, I’m just being ridiculous,” he assures him, avoiding eye contact.

“It’s clearly something,” TK says, rolling his eyes as he cups Carlos’s face in his hands. “Tell me.”

“I don’t want to freak you out.”

“Well, okay, but now I am freaking out a bit,” TK says, giving Carlos a serious look. “Carlos, I swear, you not telling me what you’re thinking is going to stress me out way more than just telling me the truth.”

Carlos bites his lip, trying to figure out the best way to approach this. It’s not that he doesn’t want to be honest with his boyfriend, he just doesn’t want to push too far and ruin this thing that they’ve spent the past few months building.

Except, a part of him knows that what they have is strong, and good, and that it works for them. They aren’t in the same place that they were three months ago; they have the hard conversations now, and this is technically no different. It’s just not hard in the way TK is probably expecting.

“My brain went a little nuts this week, while you were in New York,” he starts, reaching out to squeeze TK’s wrists gently when it looks like he might interrupt.

“I saw how much fun you were having there, back in your hometown and with your mom, and I got scared.”

TK pulls back slightly, a look of confusion taking over his features. “Scared about what?”

“I know it probably sounds ridiculous, but I couldn’t stop thinking about how you might decide that Austin isn’t where you want to be right now,” Carlos admits, his voice thin as he voices his festering insecurity.

“Oh,” is all TK says in response.

There’s a heavy silence as they sit close to one another, each of them working through their own thoughts. After a moment that feels like years, TK finally speaks.

“I didn’t get to tell you,” he starts, a small smile appearing on his face as he looks at Carlos openly, “but my mom is planning to visit next month.”

“Oh,” is all Carlos can say, confused by the direction the conversation has taken.

“Yeah,” TK continues, huffing out a laugh, “after the first two days of me talking about you non-stop, she said she wants to meet the man that I’m clearly in love with.”

All at once, the air is practically sucked from the room as Carlos’s brain replays the sentence over and over and over again in his head. Each time, he decides that he must have misheard the words, but TK just keeps staring at him, his eyes shining brightly with a look that Carlos would swear could only be affection.

“Sorry I told her before you,” TK apologizes, leaning forward, “but she was relentless. You know moms.”

“That’s okay,” Carlos assures him, his eyes filling with tears as the reality of what’s happening washes over him. “I told Michelle a few days ago.”

TK’s face breaks out into a giant smile as he shakes his head, leaning forward to press their mouths together in a gentle kiss. There’s no heat behind it, just a pure want for connection.

“You know, the whole time I was there,” he says when they break apart, nudging their noses together, “I was thinking about how I want to bring you with me next time, and show you off to everyone I know. I want to walk you around my city and show you where I grew up. I want you there with me, by my side, the next time I go, and every time I go after that.”

“Really?” Carlos gasps, cupping TK’s face in his hands.

“Really,” TK says. “New York was my home Carlos, and there’s still a lot of things that I love about it, but Austin is where I belong. I may not have had a choice in moving here and joining the 126, but I chose to stay. And even better, I got to choose you, babe. So far, it’s the best choice I’ve ever made.”

“I love you,” Carlos whispers, pulling TK into an intense kiss. He knows he’s crying again, but this time he doesn’t care. He can’t be embarrassed, not when he gets to hold and hug and kiss the love of his life, the man who loves him back. He’s waited so long for this and he can’t believe he’s finally found it.

TK pulls away with a gasp, and Carlos can’t help the pride that swells inside of him when he spots the blush on his boyfriend’s cheeks, along with his blown pupils. “I love you so much,” TK breathes out, already diving back in for another kiss.

Later, as they reach for each other in bed, Carlos finally allows TK to remove the yellow hoodie from his body, knowing that he no longer has any need for it.

Not when he’s holding the love of his life in his arms.

#tarlos #tarlos fic #tarlos fanfic #911 lone star #tarlosweek2020 #tk strand #carlos reyes #I wrote a thing

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maddiewritesstucky · 4 years

Text

Call me maybe (but only during business hours)

A smutty gift for @raynakiasbel, for her endless patience with my infuriatingly slow writing and inability to focus on one thing at a time!

Pairing: Steve/Bucky

Rating: Explicit

Wordcount: 3308

Tags: CEO Steve, College Student Bucky, Poorly-Timed Phone Sex, Anal Fingering, Masturbation, Dirty Talk, Light Daddy Kink, Dom/Sub Undertones

Part 1 of the SugarVerse series on Ao3

Bucky is most definitely not watching the clock.

His eyes have absolutely not been glued to the LED display on the bedside table for what feels like a hundred goddamn years, watching the little white lines form number after number, blinking their way into the formation that will mean he can pick up his phone, and call Steve.

That would be all kinds of pathetic, and Bucky is not that kind of boyfriend.

He’s certainly not the kind of boyfriend who’s already fixing to climb out of his skin on day three (three!) of Steve’s out-of-town business trip. Bucky is one of those autonomous, self-sufficient boyfriends, who is entirely too busy with his own obscenely full schedule to care about the fact that he’s not getting dicked down at his every whim this week.

He has midterms to study for, and hours to log at StarkTech to go towards his internship, and Nat’s surprise birthday party to plan even though she’s literally impossible to surprise…he doesn’t have the mental real estate to spare on thirst right now. He might have become a whole other kind of hoe since being exposed to the many splendors of Steve Rogers’ cock, but twitching for it before they’ve even hit the seventy-two hour mark?

That would be highly problematic, if that was happening.

Which it isn’t.

Bucky is well accustomed to flying solo when Steve’s off in corporate alter-ego mode; he’s done this countless times over the past few months since he moved in with Steve, and he’d made his peace with it long before that. You don’t couple up with the CEO of an internationally renowned architecture firm and expect to see his face at the dinner table every night, and for the most part, Bucky has no complaints about having the stupidly plush bed all to his starfishing self a few nights a month.

It’s just...there’s a method to this, usually. And that method does not involve three entire days of near radio silence.

When Steve goes away, even on his busier trips, he always finds time to call Bucky at least once a day, even if it’s just five minutes as he’s crawling into bed to say goodnight. They’ll text, and Steve will send emails that are endearingly formal because his brain tends to stay in CEO-mode 24/7 when he’s on business trips, and they’ll generally tide one another over with tidbits of cyber-affection until they get back in the same physical space.

But this time? They’ve hardly been in contact at all. And it’s on Bucky, too, at least in part - he’s been swamped with his own workload the past few weeks, struggling to find quality time or head space even in the few days just before Steve left, and all they’ve managed so far is a few sporadic messages in their rare moments of down-time, which have so far been chaotically misaligned.

It’s been a drag, if Bucky’s honest, and he can occupy himself all he wants with his exam prep and his party-plotting, but at the end of the day…

Bucky’s just a boy, laying in front of a clock, asking his dick to hold out just a few more minutes.

Because right now, it’s 10:42pm.

It’s 10:42pm, which means that in exactly three minutes, Steve will be sliding into the crisp white sheets of whatever lavish hotel bed he’s being put up in; buck-ass naked because he’s as stringent on his no-pyjamas policy as he is on his bed time, and in exactly three minutes…

Bucky’s gonna call him, and phone-fuck the soul right out of his offensively perfect body.

He flips onto his back and nestles into the pillows, a dumb grin already fixing to his face in his hormone-fuelled stupor. The lights of the city outside the floor-to-ceiling penthouse windows bathe his naked skin in soft orange-gold, and his hand migrates of its own accord to the semi he’s been rocking ever since it occurred to him that he could just straight up call Steve and spring a jerk-sesh on him.

The whole thing feels deliciously sneaky-skanky. He’s never done this before, just cold-called Steve with an x-rated agenda. They’ve had phone sex before, a great many times in fact, but there’s always a lead-in; a text exchange turned sordid that spirals into a video call straight out of Bucky’s horny teenage fantasies.

But he’s never gone in jizz-first, ask-questions-later, and as certain as he is that Steve will be entirely on board, it feels just risky enough to have Bucky a little high off the adrenaline of it.

Here lies Bucky, Queen of the Sluts! Stretched out bare atop cream colored sheets, lit up by the New York skyline! Dick in hand and filth on the tip of his tongue!

He is power! He is scandal! He is ready for this!

He pulls the lube out from its hiding place under the pillow and slicks himself up, stroking slow as he tries to summon some small measure of nonchalance about the whole thing. He has a vision for how he wants this to go, and it does not involve him losing his cool the second he hears Steve’s voice on the other end of the line.

This is about seduction, about surprising Steve with some old-school nasty, no video or visuals involved - just Bucky’s filthy mouth and vivid imagination, and he’s determined to keep it together long enough to paint Steve a picture he can jack it to.

He pulls up Steve’s contact and waits out the final torturous minute with his heart in his throat, hitting the call button the second it ticks over to go-time. He hits the speakerphone button, dropping the phone onto the pillow next to him, and holds his breath through the four rings it takes for Steve to pick up.

“...James?”

And oh, but that bodes well...Steve uses his real name in two contexts, and two contexts only - when Bucky visits him at work and he’s in business mode, and when he’s got Bucky flat on his back underneath him, letting him have it.

If Steve’s already keyed up tonight? This just got a lot more interesting.

“Mm, there it is,” Bucky heaves a deep sigh, “that’s what I needed, that voice...”

His mind’s eye conjures up visions of Steve spread out across the bed, taut lines of muscle and bare flesh all laid out. He’s probably just had a shower, so his skin would be all warm and pink, smelling like soap and aftershave; his hair all fluffy from that irreverent way he has of rubbing it towel-dry...god, Bucky misses him.

“James? Are you alright?”

He can practically hear Steve’s brows drawing together in that way they do when he’s overworked; a tight-wound tension in his voice that Bucky has every confidence he can allay before the night’s through.

“Mm, be a lot better if it was your hand wrapped around my cock right now,” Bucky drawls, rolling his body for his audience of no one, “but I guess I’ll just have to settle for fucking my fist to the sound of your voice. Can you hear me touching myself, Daddy?”

He breathes a soft groan as he strokes himself slick and languid, and Steve is silent for a long moment that Bucky’s brain is all too happy to color in with pornographic images of how Steve might be listening; where his hands might be wandering, how his cock would be filling at the mental picture Bucky’s painting. Bucky thinks this might just be the best idea he’s ever had, and he doesn’t hold back on letting Steve hear exactly how good he’s feeling about his decision...

...Until Steve clears his throat, and unceremoniously hits him with an ice-cold dousing of you-done-fucked-up.

“I’m in a meeting right now, I have two clients with me.”

There is zero inflection in his tone, and if Bucky thought he had experienced true panic before, he was mistaken. He can physically feel himself paling; his mouth dropping open soundlessly, humiliation warring with plain confusion as to why the hell Steve is still working at this ridiculous hour.

And then it clicks.

Horribly, harrowingly clicks.

Steve isn’t working at stupid o’clock at night.

In the perpetual haze of Bucky’s overworked brain and Steve’s ever-changing schedule, Bucky had forgotten that this trip was taking Steve to Hawaii.

For Steve, it isn’t slutty phone-sex hours. It’s very sensible, 4:45pm strictly-business hours.

“Ohmygod,” Bucky gasps, bolting upright and looking desperately around the room like it might hold the solution to his colossal screw up, “Steve, I completely forgot--”

“Mr Barnes, I can give you exactly two minutes of my time right now because I realize it’s been difficult to touch base recently,” Steve interrupts, his tone cooling abruptly with the air of professional detachment and veiled authority Bucky’s heard him use on work calls a thousand times. “Can you tell me exactly what the issue is with the redesign?”

...Bucky blinks, breath caught in his throat as he scrambles to string together some sense from Steve’s response.

Steve hasn’t mentioned any specific projects lately, is Bucky supposed to know something about a redesign? Was there something he--

Oh.

His brain and his dick catch on at the same time in a borderline painful rush of blood. He hears Steve pull back from the phone to address his clients, placating them with an apology and the assurance that this won’t take long, and Jesus Christ...Steve is actually doing this.

Steve is actually going to let this happen, going to let Bucky have one-sided phone sex with him while he sits there in some boardroom, with actual clients sitting right in front of him.

What the fuck.

Bucky’s breath leaves him in a rush as he drops back against the pillows and wraps a frantic hand around himself. “The issue is you’ve been gone three fucking days and I wanna sit on your face.”

“Mm, I see why that’s problematic,” Steve muses, cool and unaffected, “what exactly do you need from me?”

God, Bucky can just picture it - Steve sitting there looking like a fucking wet dream in one of his distractingly well-fitting suits, with his hair swept perfectly over and his beard trimmed just close enough to show off the sharp cut of his jaw; radiating that air of quiet authority that makes Bucky want to bounce in his lap until he dies...

Bucky knows for a fact that Steve’s face will be betraying precisely none of what’s happening on the other end of the line, and why the hell is that such a turn on?

“Well I was gonna describe in graphic detail all the things I want you to do to me when you get back,” Bucky huffs, breaths coming faster already, “but if I’m on the clock now, guess I’ll have to settle for sayin’ I need you to bring that dick home ASAP...fuckin’ miss it.”

“I see,” Steve sighs, “well I’m not back in New York for a few days yet, how do you plan to manage this in the interim?”

Bucky curses under his breath, tightening his grip on himself. “Just have to fuck myself, imagine it’s you.” He sounds every bit as unconvinced of the efficacy of this plan as they both know he is, and Steve hums thoughtfully in response.

“I’m going to need more detail, paint me a picture here.”

Bucky knows he’s blushing, feels the heat of it all the way down his chest, and fuck this shouldn’t be as hot as it is. Dirty talking at Steve and getting nothing back but clipped responses, void of emotion and the usual undercurrent of affection he’s become accustomed to?

Work-Steve needs to come to the bedroom more often.

“I’ll touch myself, like I’m doing right now,” he twists his grip a little on the upstroke, hissing at the change in sensation, “get my fist all wet and tight around my cock...pretend it’s your mouth.”

How close are Steve’s clients sitting to him? Steve wouldn’t be letting this happen if there was any way they could hear...but what if one of them has some kind of medical condition that gives them enhanced hearing? What if one of them can read minds and is hearing this entire conversation play out in stereo quality in their head?

Why is there a part of Bucky that hopes one or both of those things are true?!

“...And?” Steve prompts, almost brusque, and Bucky gives himself a second to revel in the way his dick twitches for the hard edge in Steve’s voice.

“And I’ll, fuck- ” Bucky stutters, rocking his hips with the rhythm of his strokes, pushing himself up through his grip, “I’ll use my toys, fingerfuck myself.”

“Right, well why don’t you go ahead and start that for me now,” Steve says, off-hand; pulling back from the phone to place an honest-to-god coffee order with the oblivious intern who’s now seemingly in the room too, and Bucky’s never felt more of an affinity for the whole bored-and-ignored thing.

He slicks up the fingers of his free hand and shifts a little onto his side, hiking a knee up as he slips a finger inside himself.

“Can I take that as a yes, Mr Barnes?” Steve asks at the breathy moan Bucky lets out as he presses in first with one, and then with two fingers, and Bucky nods frantically even though Steve can’t see him.

“Yes, fuck...I'm doin' it...feels so fucking good, Steve.”

And it does. It’s a difficult angle, and he can't quite hit the spot he wants to inside himself, but the steady stroke-tug against his rim while his fist flies over his cock is working for him; winding him towards what would, in any other non time-constrained circumstance, be an embarrassingly fast orgasm.

He can hear Steve shuffling papers, making quiet sounds of agreement along with whatever conversation is going on in the background between his clients whilst they wait, unknowing, and Bucky can’t decide whether it’s a blessing or an immense disappointment that Steve has to bite his tongue right now; that he can’t unleash any of the filth he’d definitely be spitting if he didn’t have an audience.

Steve fucking loves to run his mouth, and Bucky loves to hear it; lives for the endlessly colorful obscenities Steve comes out with in the throws of it.

Just listen to you, he’d be laughing a little; his voice dripping with that indulgent, self-satisfied grin he gets, so goddamn easy for it, ain’t that right baby? Three fuckin’ days and you’re gagging for it...should be ashamed of yourself…

But Steve is in a very public forum right now, in the middle of a meeting no less, trying to give the impression that he’s very decidedly not having phone sex. Right now, he’s Steve Rogers - CEO, consummate professional.

But he is also an asshole, and when he asks Bucky “do you feel you have a firm grasp on the situation, or would a second set of hands be helpful on this one?” Bucky swears he can hear that faint hint of a smirk all the way across the fucking country.

“Might just have to go find myself a second set of hands if you stay away too long,” Bucky retorts, emboldened by the distance, and a little morbidly curious to see what sassing gets him when Steve can’t say shit about it.

Turns out, what it gets him is a full-body shiver and a throb between his thighs as Steve’s tone dips to somewhere in the realm of politely-veiled threat. “I would not advise that, Mr Barnes.”

It occurs to Bucky, then, that this won’t just be done and dusted once they hang up. At the end of the week, Steve will come back to New York, and he will absolutely have some Things To Say about this little interruption.

He can picture it now, the way Steve will stand there all calm, staring him down with his mouth upticked at the corner while Bucky fumbles his way through an explanation.

He’ll probably do that thing where he doesn’t say much but his eyes say everything, and Bucky will have to try really hard to seem remorseful even though they’ll both know he’s not actually all that sorry. And Steve won’t want him to be, not really, but it’ll be something he can use to their mutual benefit, nonetheless.

Fuck, Steve might spank him.

Bucky smothers a moan into the pillow next to him, twisting his fingers inside himself and brushing his thumb across the head of his cock as he turns that thought over, Steve bending him over his knee, or better yet, over his desk...

“Oh,” Bucky gasps, a sudden rush of heat twisting tight in his gut, “fuck, I’m gonna come.”

Steve huffs a vaguely incredulous laugh, and there’s a faint creaking sound like he’s settling further back in his chair. “Oh really? Who authorized that?”

Bucky lets out a deeply undignified whine, his whole body strung tight enough to snap; caught between the sensations of his hand moving frantically over his dick and his fingers scissoring inside himself.

“Come on,” he whimpers, teetering on the knife edge of losing it, “tell me I can finish, please.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t quite catch that.”

Oh, fuck him, fuck him...how is he still edging Bucky when he was the one who put the rush order on this?

“Please, Daddy,” Bucky doesn’t try to hide the desperation in his voice as he changes tact, “if you don’t authorize this orgasm I think I’m gonna go blind, just fucking let me come!”

Steve pauses a beat, humming a considering sound. “No, I’m not comfortable signing off on that. We’re tabling this until I get back to New York.”

Bucky freezes, both hands stilling; his face crumbling into a mask of abject disbelief. “You can’t be serious?” His stomach drops, even as something in the back of his mind says he really should have seen this coming...or, not coming, as is the case.

“I'm sure we can come to a far more satisfying resolution in person,” Steve says, maddeningly cavalier.

Bucky’s gearing up to plead his case, but Steve’s not done ruining his night yet.

“In fact, Mr Barnes,” he piles on, “I’d like to make you personally responsible for ensuring no further action is taken on the matter until I return. Can I trust you with this?”

Bucky gapes down at his poor, oblivious cock still standing at eager attention in his grasp, unaware of the disaster that’s just befallen them, and he takes his hands off himself with a pained groan.

“This is criminal,” he objects, flopping heavily onto his back and throwing his arms out to his sides, “if my dick falls off, it’s your fault!”

“Great! Glad to hear it,” Steve chirps, as if he's not the worst person alive, “I’ll be in touch.”

“Whatever,” Bucky scowls at the shadows stretching across the ceiling, willing his mind off the throbbing ache of injustice between his thighs, “I’m totally not answering any of your calls.”

Steve’s smile bleeds into his tone a little when he responds, the closest he’s come to fondness yet. “Okay, speak soon, Mr Barnes.”

Bucky tries, really tries, to inject some petulance into his tone as he signs off with a grumbled “love you, I guess,” but he can’t quite bring himself to sulk as much as he feels the situation warrants.

After all, in exactly four days, Steve will come back to New York.

He’ll come home, and they’ll laugh about this, and in exactly four days…

Steve will make him forget what he was even upset about in the first place.

(Part 2 of the series here!)

#steve/bucky #Steve Rogers #Bucky Barnes #steve x bucky #stucky fanfic #ao3 stucky #daddy steve rogers

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jtsfavslut · 4 years

Text

Stages [4/6]

Description: In which a girl goes through six stages to realize and accept the fact that her marriage is going downhill.

Stage Three: Revenge

- Stages 1

- Stages 2

- Stages 3

- Stages 5

Description: Yeimy plans a way to confront Grayson about his affair, only she doesn’t want him to think she was affected.

Warnings: Yeimy goes psycho, cursing, threats, mentions of serial killers but it sounds funny.

Word Count: 2.6k+

After Grayson ended the phone call, you went back to the kitchen and cried.

You cried like a fucking bitch. But you had the right to. Someone just broke your heart without a tad bit of care.

You felt disgusting for letting him touch you that way, even if it wasn’t your fault, he was the love of your life for the love of God.

You wiped your tears and with a few deep breaths, you looked as happy as ever, thanks to the powers of being a woman and childhood trauma. You walked into the room as if nothing happened, sending him death glares when he wasn’t looking.

“Hey, whatcha eat?” he asked with a smile that made you sick to your stomach.

“A few fruit roll ups,” you replied casually, thanking those few theater classes you were forced to take in high school, giving you the ability to act casual.

“Oh nice,” he replied and went back to his phone, while you glared the fuck out of his face.

Hatred wasn’t enough to describe what you were feeling for him at the moment. You despised him if that was enough, for betraying your trust, for playing you as if you were some kind of special edition monopoly.

You stayed quiet for the rest of the night, on your phone until he finally went to bed.

You knew he was a deep sleeper so you waited a few minutes to make sure he was really asleep and carefully grabbed his phone from the nightstand, typing in his dad’s birthday, unlocking it, and going to his recent calls.

The last called being ‘love <3’ you clicked on the contact and your heart rate dropped immediately.

You knew that number from the bottom of your heart, ignoring your feelings you checked the messages with that number, taking pictures with your phone, while your stomach was filled with disgust, hatred, anger, and hurt.

You quickly put everything back the way it was, making sure to close all the apps, and placed his phone back on the nightstand while your mind ran faster than the speed of light.

You didn’t cry. You couldn’t cry, you were too upset too, however, the punching bag that Grayson used to practice with at the little gym area in your basement felt a tad bit relieving.

It was 2, almost 3 in the morning and you were still in your basement, crying and punching, beating the shit out of the innocent bag that your imagination made sure to place his and her face on, letting out all your anger on it.

You took a short shower, washing away some part of your anger and memories from the night, and made your way to one of the many guest rooms to try and get some rest.

And a week later you were on your way to his office. Ethan had told you it was everyone’s day off today, including Grayson’s; While Grayson told you that he had two meetings today.

You had made sure to pack all of your belongings before leaving the dreadful property, that was once your happy home.

Your black and highly expensive Louis Vuitton heels made clicking sounds as you walked inside the building, your skin-tight black dress wrapped around your body oh so perfectly, hugging your curves exactly the way you wanted it to.

“Grayson, Ambar,” you said, walking inside his office to be met with Ambar straddling Grayson on his office chair while his lips were on her neck, that was until they heard your voice causing them to jump up and pull away from each other. “Lovely to see you both,” you sarcastically added and sat on one of the chairs in front of his desk.

“What the-,” Amber began saying as she got off from his lap before you cut her off.

“Ambar, you shut the fuck up,” you calmly said, moving up your glasses to your forehead. “You’re lucky I go to church now” you muttered.

“Yeimy what are you doing here?” Grayson had the nerve to ask, making you chuckle.

“Oh, what a great question Grayson, I’m actually here to give you this” you smiled holding up a manila folder before placing it on his desk.

“What is this?” he asked, picking it up from his desk.

“Divorce papers. I don’t want to be associated with your pig cheating ass pendejo self,” you shrugged.

“Don’t talk to him that way,” Ambar shouted, getting closer to you, too close for your comfort.

“You dear, are hilarious. You know how I get Ambar, and I suggest you shut your fucking mouth the fuck up before I have to remind you,” you said through gritted teeth while getting up from your chair causing her to take a step back.

“I’m not scared of you Yeimy,” she laughed, yet you managed to hear the nerves within her laugh, making you laugh.

“I don’t want you to be scared of me, I just want you to remember about the time I almost went to jail because of you. Remember that? How I almost murdered someone because of you, because you pick fights and run away. Remember, how I slammed her head on the table. Because I sure know I do,” you said recalling a certain event from the past year, you don’t even remember what it was about, because it wasn’t your fight, it was her. She messed with the wrong people and someone had touched you and Karina making you join in and clean her mess while she went away. Luckily the girl didn’t press charges otherwise this would have been a different story.

“That’s just psychotic,” she scoffed and you shook your head.

“Nah, I think it’s more Ted Bundy like, but that’s not the point,” you replied, getting fed up with the conversation.

“The point is you and you are dead to me,” you said pointing to her and Grayson noticing Grayson had an unreadable look on his face.

“My lawyer will be here on Friday to pick up those papers, and I expect them to be signed by then Grayson. Don’t waste any more of my fucking time,” You added picking up your purse and putting your glasses back on your eyes.

“Have a nice drive back to your home Grayson, espero que te pudras en el Infierno, hijo de puta. ( I hope you rot in hell son of a bitch. I'm sorry Lisa I love you) You smirked as you walked away swaying your hips as your hair bounced with every step you took.

You finally reached the parking lot, where Grayson’s freshly painted Buggati laid, the car that he had rambled on and on about until he finally got it.

While you happened to have a nice fresh bat in your hand, that accidentally busted all of his windows open.

“What are you doing you psycho,” Ambar said running over to you while Grayson stood frozen by the entrance. “You think you’re Harley Quinn” she shouted, ripping the bat off of your hands.

“I mean she is hot, so thanks” you shrugged, and pat your dress to get any pieces of glass off.

“Grayson’s mine now, and you’re mad just admit it,” she said causing you to laugh.

“I feel bad for you, that man couldn’t care less about you, you wanna fucking see?” you asked and she lifted up one of her brows challenging you.

You quickly wrapped your left hand around her neck, slamming her against the car while her face was filled with fear. “You see, he didn’t move an inch,” you said and let go of her and wiped your hands on your clothes.

“Just remember something Ambar. I made you who you are today. I begged Grayson to let you work here, I let you stay at my house when you got kicked out of yours, I fucking fed you when you didn’t have enough money to even buy a pack of Ramen. And I don’t like to talk about the things I do for people because I do them out of love, but just remember that without me you wouldn’t be shit today. Without me, you would have no job, no house, and no car. But I wish you well,” you said and began to walk back to your car.

“I wish you both well, have a nice fucking life, Dolan. Oh and you might want to do laundry, all your clothes smell like me, actually the entire house does,” you said before getting in your car and speeding away to who knows where.

You couldn’t go back to your house since it was no longer yours, Karina was at work. And all hotel check out started at three and it was barely 1 pm leaving you with only one choice.

“Get in Grant,” you shouted at Ethan through the open car window.

He got in the car and didn’t speak, noticing your tense state, and he didn’t speak for the rest of the drive to your favorite spot. The beach.

“He cheated on me E. He cheated on me with Ambar,” you cried once you put the car in park and took off your seatbelt.

“I’m sorry Yeimy, I’m so fucking sorry,” he said and his arms immediately wrapped around you pulling you closer to him.

He let you cry on his shoulder until there were no more tears left for you to cry.

You lifted your head off his shoulder and he got out of the car, walking over to your side and opening your door.

“Come on, take off your shoes,” he said once he noticed you were wearing heels, you quickly bent down and took them off, carefully throwing them inside your car.

He took your hand and led you down the sand, where he found a nice rock for you both to sit in.

“I don’t know if you want to talk about it, but I’m here to listen if you’re willing too,” he softly said as you laid your head on his shoulder once again. He sent a quick text to Karina to let her know what was happening and she replied that she would be there as soon as possible.

“It was so obvious E. So fucking obvious, he would leave for work three hours early and come back at three am with lipstick stains all over his collar, he wouldn’t kiss me anymore, he wasn’t even wearing his ring. And I saw all of it. I saw it all, but I pushed it to the side like a dumb bitch. And then he returned back to his normal self for about a week, and everything was alright, and I know this sounds nasty, but we had sex one night and I went to get a snack and when I came back he was on the phone with her. Telling her how he only did it so that I would lay off of him. And I cried for hours E. And what hurts the most is that I still love him,” you ranted but he listened.

He listened to every word you said because you were important to him and you were hurting because of his twin. He wanted to punch him so badly for hurting you. The only one that knew him for who he was, the one that wanted nothing for the best for him, the one that left it all behind just so that you could be there for him, to be there when he needed you the most. He couldn’t understand why he would do such a thing.

He wanted to know what was going through his brother’s mind. But at the same time, he didn’t even want to see his face in pictures.

“Yeimy, I know everything I’m going to say isn’t going to help much, but it’s the truth. I have no fucking idea of what is going through his mind right now. And I hope he comes to his senses soon, even if it’s too late. And I know that as his brother I should be defending him, but I can’t. I can’t because this is his mess not mine, and the same way he got himself into it he can get himself out of it. However, Karina and I are going to be with you every step of the way because we love you and you don’t deserve any of this. Hell, no one should go through this. And as for Ambar, you knew I never fucking liked her, her vibes were always off. And she should be thankful because you helped her when no one else did. You’re a good person Yeimy and you’re gonna get through this, I know you can” he reassured you giving you a tight hug making you feel a bit better.

You sat in silence until Karina arrived, where she talked to you and let you cry on her shoulder just when you thought you were done with crying.

“You know, I just want to know what I did wrong,” you sighed looking into the horizon, where the sun seemed to be getting closer to meeting the ocean water.

“You did nothing wrong, bebe. You did exactly what a wife should do. Now where is E, I’m hungry,” she said, asking about her husband's whereabouts. He had left about 20 minutes ago to go get food for all of you.

“I don’t know, he should be here soon tho,” you shrugged as your hand played with some sand.

“Yeimy, y dónde te vas a quedar?” Karina asked where you were going to stay since it was pretty obvious you couldn’t go back home.

“In a hotel until Thursday, I went apartment hunting the day after his phone call, y encontre uno, caro but it’s LA so you know. (and I found one, it’s expensive)” you shrugged and pulled out your phone to show her your apartment.

“It’s so cute Yeimy, how many rooms?” she asked, scrolling through the pictures.

“Three rooms, it’s the only one that was available, and it’s only three thousand which is not that bad,” you shrugged and she nodded her head.

“You have money, and you’re working at Vogue now. I love having rich friends,” she joked, making you laugh.

“What’s so funny?” Ethan asked from behind, making both of you jump up, he sat down handing out burgers from some restaurant he liked.

“Nothing, just that Yeimy is rich. Also, did you see her new apartment?” she asked him, unwrapping her food and taking a bite.

“No so show me,” he said and you handed him your phone with the pictures. “How are you gonna get your jeep there, you can only drive one car at the time you know?” he asked, making you chuckle.

“One of ya’ll can take it there for me, and I’ll just drive this one,” you shrugged referring to the car you took here, a Tesla that Grayson insisted on you getting.

Karina said she’ll take it for you, and you ate your food in silence, the only sounds coming for the animals and the waves.

After that, you went to your hotel and cried.

You cried until you fell asleep. (me as fuck)

Stages 5

Tags: @angelgrayson @rhyrhy462 @333dolans @vinylhazza @foxglovedolan @dolanissues @mercurygrant @persistence-ofmemories @dolansficsandpics @blindedbythelightt @kinkygrays @pineappledols @the-evolution-of-stupidity @evergreendolan @beatement-l @graydolan12

#Grayson Stages #grayson #grayson bailey #graysonbailey #grayson dolan #grayson dolan imagine #grayson x reader #grayson blurb #grayson and ethan #ethan dolan #Ethangrant #ethan dolan imagine #ethan dolan x reader #ethan dolan blurb #Ethan grant #dolan #dolan twins #dolan fandom

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qonqr · 3 years

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I’m Still Here

Many of you may have been asking yourself where did Silver go? Is anyone still working on QONQR? I admit I’ve been very quiet the past year and from the outside, it looks like not much is going on.

Before I give my QONQR update I want to share a major accomplishment for me. I’m a little less of a hoarder than I was a month ago. As the 11th year anniversary approached, I decided I had too much old QONQR merchandise I needed to get in the hands of my players. However, I hate shipping. I should be the spokesperson for one of those shipping providers that make shipping easy because I hate doing it so much. Many of you know that the player Rayndel has an Etsy store where she sells QONQR merchandise with my permission. I sent her a 65lb (30kg) box of QONQR stuff. Coffee cups, T-shirts, dog tags and stickers. She is liquidating all of it for me. You can find it all right here.

https://www.etsy.com/shop/DragonHoardCrafts?section_id=19648949

2020 and 2021 have been challenging for most people, and I’m no exception. Both our kids are off to college. We are getting older and so are our extended families. Medical issues become more frequent for us and them. The stress of the pandemic doesn’t help. There are days when I can sit at my computer all day, and never write a line of code. Things are hard, they impact our ability to work as hard as we once did.

A little over two weeks ago, QONQR hit its 11th birthday. The milestone passed quietly. I always spend time reflecting on how QONQR has changed my life and the stories you’ve shared about how it has changed yours. We’ve built something great together. Together we keep it going.

Despite outward appearances. Things are happening at QONQR. I am working, albeit at an admittedly slow pace. I’ve let go of the stress of pushing QONQR as fast as I can, and instead I’m working on QONQR at a pace that is comfortable. It is important to me and my family that I end my day without being drained of all my energy by the awful decisions and quality that Apple and Google hand me every day.

The next release of QONQR will include the following features. Many of these are mostly done, so I’m happy to share them, with the caveat that I have no idea when these will actually hit the store. Tons of testing is still needed.

New Sync Lock Rules

Sync lock will now last much longer, perhaps a week or even a month before it automatically expires. Along with that Sync Lock Protection will also last longer. The more times you gain sync lock protection, the longer it will last. We want to protect legitimate family members from daily locks, but also want to avoid situations where multi-scoper can get infrequent help to unlock an army of devices and accounts. In addition to longer locks, Sync lock may also hurt resource collection with your bases depending on how play testing goes.

As with everything pertaining to multi-scoping, it is a blurry line between stopping those who play unfair, and those that are punished for inviting family and friends to play.

Notifications

I have wanted push notifications for most of the past 10 years. In fact, we were very close to having them implemented about 5-7 years ago, but Google changed their push notification system. We used a unified messaging system created by Microsoft to push to both Google and Apple simultaneously. There were incompatibilities between the new and the old Google system for a long time. We gave up on trying to finish that implementation back then, waiting for Google and Microsoft to get their stuff fixed, and it was years before it became a priority again.

I spent most of the past 3-4 months working on notification. This area is quite possibly one of the worst technical implementations I’ve had to work with in all my time working in software. For example, if you kill an iPhone application, you also remove the ability to get push notifications until the next time you start the app. It appears to be almost random when Android will decide to beep your phone when receiving a notification, and when it will be silently added to the notification center. For both Apple and Google, the documentation is frustratingly inaccurate or out of date. There are multiple different ways a notification can be processed depending on whether the application was terminated by the user, suspended by the operating system, in the background or in the foreground. Was the notification scheduled locally or sent from a remote server? Honestly, as a developer, it would be difficult to purposely design a worse system.

The good news is that I believe I have it working as good as it can possibly work. In the next release you will be able to enable or disable notifications as a whole, or selectively choose which notification you want to receive. Notifications will include: Atlantis, New Wire messages, Mentions in Chat and Forums, Bots and Bases Full.

A Major Overhaul to the Scope

The changes to Sync Lock mandated that overheat have additional logic to control bots and energy regeneration. More significantly, if we want to have a notification that your scope is full, so I needed to know exactly when the scope would be full. Currently your regeneration rate is based on the number of launches in the past hour. Launching a few seconds before or after an old launch rolls off that 1 hour mark can mess up the prediction of when you will be full again. To make that prediction accurately, without checking every minute to see, “Are my bots full now”, we changed the formula for when bots will be full, and scheduled a notification based on that time.

The new regeneration is very similar to the old, but we predict you may get 1 or 2 more launches per hour. I’m hedging the formula towards more not fewer launches to make sure this is seen as a positive change.

As long as we are messing with the scope, let’s talk about the Bot Regen Accelerator. Hard core players have pointed out that players who launch on a timer, always hitting the “optimal” launch interval, don’t gain any advantage when purchasing this $0.99 upgrade. In the new release this upgrade will reduce your overheat level by 1 level and you will never be in maximum overheat due to deploying bots. The impact of the upgrade will be noticeable by everyone with this change. The name of this upgrade will probably change to “Scope Coolant” or “Heat Diffuser”. Send me your name ideas.

Subscriptions, Ads and Elite Players

This is a change that probably won’t be in the next release, but it is something I’m thinking about before the end of the year. Apple has had a bug in their subscription logic for years. If you purchase a subscription on an iPhone, then get a new iPhone, you need to cancel the subscription in the App Store, then renew from your new phone. Apple keeps charging you, but the new device can’t see the subscription, so QONQR doesn’t know you are a subscriber. Why wouldn’t Apple fix this? Well Apple only takes half the percentage of a subscription after the first year. By making you start a new subscription, they can double their cut of the money you pay QONQR for the subscription. Another problem with subscriptions is that they result in many support requests because they honestly aren’t 100% reliable in either Apple or Google’s implementation.

Many people know that earlier in the year, Apple introduced a change to advertising that blocks tracking. This is great in theory, and I get it as a consumer that I don’t like to be tracked, but this tracker blocking also blocks my ability to make any revenue on advertising. Why would I continue to give away free advertising?

Elite players are those that have spent over $100 in QONQR over the life of their gaming experience. Over the years the benefits of being “Elite” have dwindled. Features have changed, and incentives have ended. I’d like to invest more time and energy to build features for players that continue to support QONQR but I think it makes more sense to lower the bar and make the benefits for “active” spenders.

With these three things in mind, there is a chance that QONQR will move to a monthly “pass” option rather than a subscription. There seems to be a trend with games, where players buy a monthly pass that offers benefits, rather than using subscriptions. Subscriptions are buggy and in the case of Apple, a shady business practice.

The same benefits available to subscribers would remain under the “pass”, but you would have to explicitly purchase the pass each month. Secondary missions may move to the “pass” model with non-pass players getting only a handful of secondary missions per month. Ads would be completely removed from the app in this scenario since they no longer generate much revenue.

What’s in the Plans for 2022?

If you have read my blog over the years, you know that Apple and Google make it harder and harder to stop cheating (primarily multi-scoping). It is being reported that Windows 11 will have the ability to run Android apps. I don’t know yet how that will impact QONQR, but I’m guessing it won’t be good. At best it will have no impact because I’ll be able to stop QONQR from running on Windows, at worst it could be a nightmare.

March 2022 will mark the 10 year anniversary QONQR hit the Apple App Store. I can say with a high level of confidence that QONQR is now the longest running location-based, multi-platform, mobile game.

Personally, I think 2022 needs to be a transformational year for QONQR. I’m not sure we can survive if the game doesn’t change. Apple, Google, and Microsoft have never cared about supporting mobile developers. Outrageous fees and abusive rules (recently acknowledged by the US Congress) have been part of the ecosystem from the start. There are dozens of apps that you can download from the official Google Play store that make it a simple tap to attempt to hack and manipulate an Android app, so players can do something the developer is attempting to prohibit. Once again Microsoft broke the tools I use to help secure the app from hackers, causing weeks of work to find a solution that would maintain the same level of security. Apple and Google both purposely hide information from developers that would help them ensure real people are using their apps instead of bots. They do this under the façade of privacy, but ignore simple solutions that could maintain privacy, while helping developers ensure the integrity of how their apps are used.

I’ve said for years, the only way to stop hackers and cheaters in QONQR is to make it irrelevant. That requires a major shift in gameplay. Together, you the players and me the developer, we need to decide if we want QONQR to have such a major shift. I don’t know what that shift would look like, but 2022 might be the year we figure it out.

2020 was a year of making sure QONQR can survive. Through tons of work that year, massive software rewrites and updates, I was able to cut the cost of hosting QONQR. Today the cost of hosting QONQR all year, matches what we spent in three months during 2019. So far 2021 has been a year of slow work toward significant improvements to the game, but without major strategic impact to your daily playing. I’ve taken my time to avoid burn out. I’m enjoying the pace of my current work week. It has been good for my family and me.

I’m not sure what 2022 will look like for QONQR yet, but I’m excited to try something new. Maybe we’ll break things, maybe we will create something ten times better than what we have had for the last decade. Time will tell. We’ll figure it out together.

Thanks for keeping the lights on.

-Scott (aka Silver)

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safetytank · 3 years

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long-ass floral drama ahead

after the roaring successes of my Anders DragonAge Did Nothing Wrong & How To Dungeons And Dragons Good presentations, the host of the original had a follow-up DTL night and u KNOW a bitch is incapable of not doing Way Too Much while simultaneously leaving everything to the last minute

so here u go, customers i interacted with while working at one of the local florists between 2017-2018, organized and ranked for ur entertainment

commentary added bc most the slides were just a visual component to a textual joke & i won’t make u all sit through a 10-minute video rendition, u got shit to do

every single older guy cheating on his partner follows exactly the same script, it’s like they were made in a lab

some did manage to break away from the mold tho, usually younger guys asking sheepishly if we had “i’m sorry” balloons (we did) or the following 2 honorable mentions for bringing innovations to the field of cheating on ur wife

imagine using a BIBLE VERSE to try and convince your girl she should take u back bc something something FORGIVENESS

the audacity

the second honorable mention is the very first customer complaint my manager handled after he was hired on back in like 2012, which was a guy whose girlfriend had looked at his credit card statement the day after Valentine’s Day and saw he’d sent 13 other one-dozen rose arrangements so he tried to convince her it must have been a credit card glitch & that he’d call and get it sorted out and my manager was like “lmao fuck no you’re not getting a refund, u made ur bed now lie in it asshole”

number 4 is the time a customer wanted an order wired to chicago for a loved one’s birthday and have it be sent to their job and i was like “oh how nice where do they work” and they were like “the leather museum” and me, internally, thinking “wow like cowboy stuff :)”

it was not cowboy stuff

number three i don’t even give a shit about censoring the name on bc if you know Vickie Fucking Fitzgerald in real life there’s no punishment u could enact upon me that would be greater than having to put up with Vickie Fucking Fitzgerald in real life

this slide is an example of a normal message someone might write on a card that comes in a floral arrangement, like 4-ish lines of text on a little plastic fork that says “happy birthday, love NAME 1 and NAME 2″ or “sorry for your loss, love THE LASTNAME FAMILY”

Vickie Fucking Fitzgerald does not know how cards on floral arrangements work

like damn bitch just send a letter at that point jesus christ

fun fact this was also a wire order so the other florist called us on the phone to be like “uhhhhh is this....correct” and we had to be like “yeah” and they went “ok, cool, just checking, uh, so we had to staple 4 different message cards together to fit all of it” and we were like “yeah bet u did lol”

vickie fucking fitzgerald was a million billion years old and if u saw her name pop up on the caller ID you learned to fear it bc it meant you’d be trapped on the phone for between 10 and 20 minutes listening to her entire life story in between trying to take a gd floral order

one time she wanted a funeral basket sent out of state to FUCKING ALASKA and we’re on the east coast of the united states so we were like “ok well there’s a 4 hour timezone difference and it’s 8am here so they’re not even open yet, we’ll have to wait til 12pm when they open up at 8 and then we can wire it for you so we’ll take down your order and call u back when it’s time to wire it”

yall wanna guess how many times this bitch called back to waste our time before 12pm

VICKIE YOU WENT ON FOR CUMULATIVE HOURS ABOUT HOW YOUR HUSBAND WAS DIVORCING YOU AND I’M BEGINNING TO SEE WHY HE MIGHT WANT TO

#2 is of course the dumb horny bullshit, bc it turns out if u order online and the quality control manager isn’t paying A Lot of attention u can slip all kinds of shit into ur card messages (just don’t do the entire fuckin Iliad like VFF up there)

this one gets put in horny jail because of the sheer AUDACITY of contacting someone who has either 1. been broken up with/divorced recently, or worse, 2. THEIR PARTNER FUCKING DIED, and THEN TRYING TO THROW YOUR HAT IN THE RING WITH THAT “I’VE ALWAYS THOUGHT YOU WERE BEAUTIFUL, CATCH ME ON THE REBOUND BABY ;)” HORSESHIT

no comment

this one haunts me in the depths of night and will absolutely be the last thing i see when i close my eyes to slough off this mortal coil

this one yall get every single slide for bc the only reason it lives on in as much detail is due to me hopping on twitter immediately afterwards to preserve the memory while it was still fresh (the caller was not the ghost btw, she was a middle-aged acquaintance of the aforementioned Gay Nigerian Royalty Ghost)

shout out to every stock website i skimmed off for this presentation btw

we stan one gay ghost king (THIS JOKE WORKS ON MULTIPLE LEVELS)

WHY DID HE HAVE MILLIONS OF DOLLARS, YOU ASK

i cannot confirm literally any of this information please do not ask me to i was just paraphrasing what was told to me

here’s where we got into the really wild shit

if u ever worked retail u know this feeling

SO THE DELIVERY MANAGER COMES BACK IN THE DAY OF THE FUNERAL

and he’s like “so i walked in there to deliver the orders and the place was DECKED OUT in traditional fabrics, masks on the wall, everyone was dressed very traditionally, and i was like wow cool guess this guy was important” (he did not know about the International CIA Prosecutor stuff) and someone at the funeral home told him “oh yah we had to go all out bc the deceased’s family WERE A BRANCH OF THE NIGERIAN ROYAL FAMILY THAT HAD FLED TO THE UNITED STATES SOMETIME IN THE 80′S so obviously u can’t have a royal funeral and skimp on the decorations :)”

artist’s rendition

thank u for enjoying this little trip down memory lane also if u recognize urself or someone u know in any of these stories i blocked ur names out for a reason so don’t fuckin come at me ok

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atinydise · 4 years

Text

Ateez cheating on their s/o (1/2)

❦ Genre: Angst.

❦ Pairing: OT8.

❦ Word count: 1k8.

❦ Masterlist.

Part 2

HONGJOONG

“Sorry Y/N but we need to work till late tonight. Don’t wait for me babe.” “Oka-“ you tried to say but he hung up too fast. It’s been 2 weeks now. He was like a ghost for you. He came to sleep at your apartment and was gone before you woke up. You took a deep breath and threw your phone on your bed, frustrated. The comeback promotions were over, on what he could work on so bad.

You stoop up of your bed, determined to cheer him and the boys too. In 10 minutes, you were at the convenient store buying their favorite snacks. You couldn’t help them much because you were not a pro, but at least you could help to fill their stomachs. Few minutes later you were in the KQ’s elevator. Your hands were shaking from excitement. They would be so happy. You checked your phone to see if Hongjoong answered you, but still no message from him. As you walk on the corridor, you could hear a loud music resounding. It came from your boyfriend’s studio. Without knocking, because you wouldn’t hear it anyway, you opened the door. “Hongjoong! I have-“.

You paused.

Your boyfriend and the girl on his laps paused too.

The music was loud, but you couldn’t hear anything at this moment, too focused on the horrible scene. The plastic bag fell of your hand. Your cheeks were wet before you could notice. Hongjoong pushed the girl away from his laps. “Y/N… that’s not what you think!” Then what was this girl doing on him? Why her lipstick was on his lips? Why his hair was messy? You couldn’t stop your tears. You wanted to throw up. He took your hand, but you removed so fast that he stepped back. “What are you doing Hongjoong?!” you finally yelled at him. The rest of the members came when they heard you. “What is happening?” Asked Seonghwa. “What are you doing Hongjoong?” you repeated. He couldn’t look at you, too ashamed. You threw on him, the scarf he gave for your birthday. “I hate you!” You left, hearing Yunho asking you to stay with them. But it was too late, they wouldn’t see you again.

SEONGHWA

[“It’s good to be home! I missed my mom and her cooking skills!] [“Say hello to your mom for me. I will try to send another chocolate box soon!”] [“Okay! I will tell a bit later, she’s with her friends.”] Your boyfriend was taking a break for few days at his parents’ house. You encouraged him to go. He worked so hard this year. [“Well baby, I will be busy for few hours. I’m going to see my uncle!”] [“Okay, have fun there! I love you!”] You searched on few websites what you could buy for his birthday. He’s going to be on tour, but he would be so happy. You saw the shoes that he wanted so bad since he saw it last week. That was a bit expensive, but you could afford it. You just needed to wait the end of the month. You could see him moonwalking with these boots. That’s like a ritual for him when he buys new shoes.

After your little online shopping, you opened Twitter. Your tweets list was boring, even if some got your attention. You typed “ATEEZ” on the search bar to see Atinys’ posts. It was the “Atiny Selca Day”, the fans were posing in the same position of their bias. Your boyfriend was a bit everywhere. As you wanted to see the popular selcas, one tweet got your attention. That wasn’t a selfie. But that was definitively your boyfriend on this picture. You felt your heart race when you saw that he was hugging and kissing this girl. You couldn’t believe it. Is that an edit? You prayed that it was one. As you zoomed on the picture to see any default or any sign of photoshop, you received a SNS’ notification. The title was “Seonghwa (Ateez) spending time with his girlfriend in Jeju Island.” You didn’t believe it or you didn’t want to. Everything was happening so fast. Confused, you texted your boyfriend. [“Seonghwa were are you?”] You instantly saw that he was answering. [“What do you mean? I’m with my uncle.”] [“Take a picture of both of you. Now.”] [“I can’t”]. Your heat skipped a beat. [“He doesn’t like picture…”] He was lying and you knew it. You sent him a screenshot of him and this girl. [“Take a damn picture of you and your uncle Park Seonghwa.”] You wiped one of your tears. He was writing but stopped. For 2 longs minutes the dots appeared and disappeared on your screen. [“Y/N… I’m sorry…”] Now he confirmed it. Your heart was so heavy that you thought you were going to die. [“Don’t try to talk with me ever again.”] That’s the last time you talked to him.

YUNHO

Every Friday, you were at Ateez dorm with your boyfriend, for a movie night. That was like a ritual, since he worked so much and didn’t have so much free time, that’s the last thing he could do for you. Tonight, he chose Harry Potter, aka his favorite movie. But he wasn’t paying any attention on it. Always looking at his phone. “Who are you texting like that No-no*?” you asked. You felt him tense a bit. “Mingi!” He almost yelled, “we are talking about the new choreography. Idol life, you know.” He giggled. “You guys never take a break. You will transform into machines.” He kissed your forehead. “But at least we like our job.” You smiled at him and focused back on the movie. 30 minutes later you asked Yunho, “Can you bring more popcorn? This one was really good, where did you bought it?” “A friend gave it to me. It’s from Chicago.” “Then ask him where he bought it,” you giggled, “I can bet it’s Johnny!” you guessed as he left the living-room. You tried to focus back on the movie but Yunho’s phone was non-stop buzzing next to you. “Ya Mingi… let him rest a bit.” You whispered. You decided to trap Mingi by answering one of his messages. When you unlocked his phone, you weren’t expecting to see “Sojin” texting your boyfriend. “Who is Sojin?” you asked Yunho. “What? I don’t hear you.” Before you could ask him one more time, the phone buzzed in your hand. A new message from Sojin. [“Wow… I can’t wait. What are you doing tonight? I want another round.”] Instinctively, you’ve read all the messages. Most of them was suggestive. She sent few selfies as well. “Here’s your popcorn prin-“ Yunho stopped when he saw you, his phone on your shaking hands. “Yunho, who is Sojin? And why are you talking with her like that?” Your eyes didn’t leave him. “I-… Y-Y/N” he stuttered. “Were you talking with this girl since I’m here? Why she’s asking another round Yunho?” you faced him. “Talk to me for god’s sake!”. “Y/N…” “Are you sleeping with this girl?” He didn’t answer you. But you knew. You threw his phone on his chest. “Y/N wait!” he begged when you packed your stuff. “How dare you? Asking me to wait while you are flirting and more with this Sojin!” You head was spinning, you wanted to throw up, your heart was in pain. He didn’t try to hold you back as you left the room.

*No-no: a nickname for Yunho.

YEOSANG

You invited all the members to go at restaurant for celebrate their first win. Everyone was so excited. They felt so much lighter now. Having a first win is a big step for idols. “I can’t come with you guys.” Said Yeosang embarrassed. “Why? We can’t celebrate that without you!” you said. “I promised my friend to meet him today since he’s in Korea for 1 week.” He explained. “Then go hyung, but I want my Bulgogi! We need to go Y/N!” Wooyoung almost begged you. You giggled, it would be less funny without your boyfriend but you don’t want to disappoint the boys. “Okay! Let’s go!” You kissed Yeosang softly, “have fun babe.” He smiled at you, “thank you!”. “Y/N” yelled Wooyoung.

The dinner was cool and funny. The boys were so happy. They mocked Yunho, Jongho and Wooyoung because they cried like babies. Honestly, they were all crying. Even San and Mingi backstage. At the dessert, Jongho asked you. “How is your relationship with Yeosang, Y/N? He’s too shy to talk about it with us.” You laughed, your boyfriend is so awkward when someone is asking these kind of questions. “We are doing good. I’m so happy with him that I could scream to the world my love for him.” You smiled. “Ew… so romantic.” Said Wooyoung disgusted. At the end of the dinner, you decided to walk a bit with them. Wooyoung and San were behind, probably talking about their first win. Mingi, Jongho and Honghoong were in front of you, laughing. And you were talking with Seonghwa about his idol life. Suddenly, you bumped accidently on Mingi, not paying attention. “Ew, sorry Mingi!” He didn’t answer you, his mouth was open in shook and his eyes went wide. “Mingi? Are you okay?” You look at this direction he was staring on. The scene that you saw caused you to react exactly as the rapper. Yeosang was laughing and hugging tightly a girl. They seemed close. It confirmed when he pecks the girl lips. Exactly like he does with you. “What is Yeosang doing?” asked San angrily. Your knees were shaking, you couldn’t support you weight anymore. Almost falling on Mingi. “Y/N!” Yelled the boy as he holds you. Everyone was looking at you, your ex-boyfriend included. Through your tears you could see him detache his embrace to the girl. But it was too late. He rushed to you. The only thing you could do was to slap him. The noise resonated in the whole street. Yeosang was holding his cheek. You punched, (or at least you tried) his arms, his torso, his face. Even if he didn’t move at all. You wanted to hurt him as he did. Mingi grabbed your arms and led you somewhere else as you were swearing at Yeosang. You never felt this sensation in your heart. You just wanted to rip it.

Part 2

#ateez reactions #ateez yeosang #ateez seonghwa #ateez yunho #ateez hongjoong #ateez angst #ateez x reader #ateez x you #ateez au #ateez imagines

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pixie88 · 3 years

Text

Photogenic

A/N: Another talented writer asked me to do a Dominic Wright FF so here it is. I’m matched with his counterpart so I based him on Adam I just hope it have done it well. This might be a one shot piece or I might continue I’m not sure yet. Let me know if you would like to be tagged or untagged!

Find my other Lovelink FF HERE on my masterlist under Lovelink - One shots. Along with my Rory Bear & Shopping Trip (Rory O’Brien), My Science Buff & The Naughty Teacher (Marco Bottazzi) & Tattoo Artist to Businessman (Blake Bailey) FF.

Comments always welcome!

Word count: 2542

WARNINGS: ⚠️ NSFW & Fluffy fluff

Disclaimer: Characters are property of Lovelink.

Pairings: Dominic x MC - Leona

Enjoy!

It's been 3 weeks since Dominic left for Paris. We have been texting every day, but it just not the same I miss him, he sends me pictures of places he's shooting which makes it hurt more. He's in the most romantic city in the world and I'm stuck here in the states!

"Leona, what do you think?" Kelly snaps me out of my thoughts.

"Sorry, what?" I ask.

"I said do you think Carter will like this bracelet for his birthday? I had it engraved it cost the earth, but he's worth it!" (I zoned put after bracelet)

"Leona!!! You aren't still pining over that boy are you?" She asks again snapping me back to reality.

"You mean Dominic!" I tell her.

"Yes, him! I don't know why you didn't dump him as soon as he told you he was leaving the country! No way would I let Carter travel to a different country without telling me how long he's going to be. Especially to Paris! Are you sure he's not been with his ex and taken her there?!" Kelly chimes.

Kelly is one of my oldest friends, but she's also the vainest and most materialistic person I know. She never thinks before opening her mouth, which has got me in trouble over the years.

"No, Kelly he hasn't run off to Paris with his crazy ex! You might not let your boyfriend off his leash, but some of us have more trusting relationships!" I snap back at her.

Nikki tries to hide her smile and Kelly gives her an un-approving look. I get up from the table gather my stuff and leave the coffee shop.

When I walk out into the cold air I pull my phone out and text Dominic but just as I'm typing my text as a notification pops up on my screen.

*1 New Message from Dominic*

I smile as I open the text.

[Hey gorgeous girl, I don't know why, but I just had a feeling I needed to text you! So here it is I miss you, baby girl! How's your day going with the girls? I hope Kelly isn't getting on your nerves too much? I got some great shots today. ILY XX]

[We are too in sync it's scary! I literally pulled out my phone to text you when your text popped up! I miss you too! I could do with a Dom hug right now...! Argh I just walked out on Kelly and Nikki. Kelly droning on as usual. It got to me so I'll probably have to leave it a few days before I speak to her again. Have you got any shots from the Eiffel Tower yet? Glad your day is going better than mine. ILY2 xx]

*1 New Message from Dominic*

[Leona, I don't get why your friends with someone that makes you so miserable!? See we might be in different countries, but I still know when my girl needs me. What has she said this time? I told you I wasn't going up the Eiffel Tower unless it's with you! ILYM XX]

[I know, but she used to be fun then her grandparents died and left her all that money it changed her now she's just a snob! Your girl needs you stateside! Have they told you when you're coming home? She said the same old rubbish how I should've dumped you when you told me that you were going to Paris. She also thinks you've taken Holly to Paris with you haha. I know neither of us have been up it, but you could go up and take pictures, so I can experience it through your photos! ILYSMM xx]

*1 New Message from Dominic*

[Money does bring out the worse in people. You have no idea how much I want to be back home with you. There is a meeting later, so hopefully, I get an idea then. I'm glad you haven't listened to her. Definitely haven't brought Holly with me, she's in court next month. No! I will only go up there with you so we can experience our first trip up the tower together ;) I have to go now. What's ILYSMM? ILY xx]

[Oh, I do! I have everything crossed for some kinda date! I stopped listening to her in the 5th grade! Haha. Wow, that's quick do you need to be back here for that? Secretly hoping you do! OK, we'll have to go one day to do it together! I love you so much more duh! :P ILY xx]

*1 New Message from Dominic*

[I text you as soon as I find out. I'm not sure yet. I might need to be stateside. We will soon I promise. Speak soon. Haha OK ILYSMM xx]

I grab a taxi and make my way home.

~*~*~*~

Later I'm watching The Notebook when I hear my phone.

*1 New Message from Dominic*

[Hey hot stuff, I have news you are really going to love. You know I did that small art show and that if it all went well, I would be offered to take part in the huge exhibition? Well, I got a place at the exhibition they loved my work! That's not the best bit they want me to enter a piece that includes the local sights! But I may have told them a little white lie...I told them I need my "assistant" and they are willing to pay for my assistant to fly to Paris, but they will have to share my hotel suite with me. But that's not all we also get to take a plus one to the exhibition ;) ILY XX]

[Dominic, that's great! Congratulations I'm so proud of you! Your assistant? I didn't know you had one? Lucky assistant :( Looks like you and your assistant will have fun. ILY x]

*1 New Message from Dominic*

[Leona!!! You don't get it, I told them you are my assistant they are booking you a flight as we speak! LEONA YOU ARE COMING TO PARIS! I WANT YOU TO BE MY PLUS ONE!!!! ILY XXX]

[WHAT?! No! I don't believe you! Why would they do that? DOMINIC YOU BETTER NOT BE MESSING WITH ME!!!! ILY XX]

*1 New Message from Dominic*

[I swear on my life they are booking you a flight I will get all the details in a bit. I'm not messing with you! I'm serious. I guess it's a way to keep me sweet? Either way, I don't care I'm just so happy you're going to be here. ILY xx]

[But I have work I'm not sure I can just drop it like that! When will you know? ILY xx]

*1 New Message from Dominic*

[Crap, I didn't think about that I just got excited when they said they would fly you over. Please say you'll come? Please? I should know in 5 Minutes. ILY xx]

[I'll see what I can do once you've found out when the flight is. ILY x]

*1 New Message from Dominic*

[Thank you, thank you, thank you! So, they have sent the ticket to your email apparently. ILY xx]

[I'll have a look now. ILY xx]

I quickly check through my emails there it is at the top my ticket to Paris. It leaves tomorrow morning at 8amand I return in 7 days. (How am I going to sort work out with just over 12 hours before my flight leaves?!)

I text my dad.

[Hey Dad, short notice, but I only got the invite about 20 minutes ago. So Dominic invited me to Paris to see him. I'd be gone for 7 days from tomorrow, but if you can't get cover don't worry I'll tell him I can come.]

*1 New Message from Dad*

[Leona, that sounds like too much of an opportunity to miss out on. Plus, I know how much you've missed that boy. Go! Leave it to me, I'll get cover. You go have fun, but I want to see loads of photos when you come back.]

[Dad, you are one in a million you know that right? Thank you! I will take loads or get Dominic to take some! Thanks again!]

*1 New Message from Dad*

[I do as you always remind me. Have fun, I'll see you when you get back.]

*1 New Message from Dominic*

[Did you get the email? ILY xx]

I decide to play a prank on him.

[I did, but I've spoken to my dad, and he said it's just not possible to get cover at this short notice. It was a nice thought while it lasted. ILY x]

*1 New Message from Dominic*

[Oh, what? That's a shame, but like you said it was a nice idea. I'm bummed now I was so excited about being able to see you. ILY xx]

[Lucky for you, I fly out tomorrow! I was joking my dad was fine with it haha. I love you xx]

*1 New Message from Dominic*

[Leona, that was mean! But I'm too excited to be mad. What time do you fly out? I love you more xx]

[I'm sorry, but I'll make it up to you! 8 am so I should be with you about 5 pm US time. ILY xx]

*1 New Message from Dominic*

[How exactly? So, about 11 am here. I will be working so I can't meet you until after I'm done. There will be a driver waiting at the airport for you. ILY xx]

[I'm thinking it's been a long time, so with fewer clothes between us. Oh ok, I guess I'll just go back to your suite and wait on the bed naked for you ;) ]

*1 New Message from Dominic*

[God, now all I can think about is you naked on my sheets and finally being able to hold you. I need to sit down or have a cold shower! ILY XX]

[You better hurry back or I'll entertain myself. I better start packing. See you tomorrow. I love you xx]

*1 New Message from Dominic*

[I will be as quick as I can. I can't wait to see you. I love you xx]

~*~*~*~

After a long 9 hour flight, I'm here! I'm in Paris!! I walk through looking for a driver with my name but I'm greeted with his gorgeous smile, his eyes light up when he spots me. I drop my bags I don't want to not be in his arms a moment longer I run over to him. Dominic picks me up and spins me around "Leona, you're here! You're really here!" he puts me down.

His lips crash to mine, I don't want to stop kissing him, but I pull away. "Dominic, what are you doing here? I thought you had work?"

"I managed to move it all so I could be here to meet you," he smiles.

"I'm so happy you're here to meet me! So are you free for the whole day?" I wink.

"A matter of fact I am! Why don't we get your bags and head back to the hotel so I can show you how much I've missed you"

I blush.

We walk over to get my abandoned bags and there is a car waiting for us out front. We pull up to the hotel it's beautiful.

We make our way up to Dominic's room as soon as he opens the door the view is stunning! I hear the door click shut, his arms come around my waist, his lips brush my pulse line before they reach my ear "God I've missed you!" he nips my ear which sends my body into overdrive.

I turn to claim his lips with mine. His tongue invades my mouth we're in a rush our clothes fall to the floor as he backs me against the wall. His lips move from mine to my neck kissing my sensitive spot just above my collarbone, he continues to move south, his tongue lightly sweeps over my nipple leaving my body tingling and anticipating his next move.

He nips my belly before he throws one of my legs over his shoulder, his mouth finds my centre, he parts my folds and works on my clit, making me arch off the wall.

"Dom....inic crap that feels..."

He pulls away "Like I need to try harder to make you speechless" He doubles his efforts.

"Oooohhhh!"

I look down, he's set himself free working his hand up and down his hard member. I pull him up to me "I need you! All of you!"

He doesn't waste another second he wraps my legs around his waist. He thrust hard into me, filling me. He slowly draws out each thrust before forcefully thrusting back in. This pushes me so close to the edge I'm looking over it.

I drag my nails down his back, he hisses at the sensation. His lips claim mine again with the taste of me still on them. He groans against them, he's close. I can't hold back anymore, it's been 3 long weeks "Yes! Dominic!" I fall over the edge.

Dominic hits his own climax "Fuck! God! Leona!" We are barely catching our breath, he's still inside me "Let's take this to the bedroom" He pulls us away from the wall and carries me to bed.

We don't leave his hotel room until the next day.

~*~*~*~*~

A few days later we are in the car all dressed up for this exhibition. Dominic is nervous I can see it all over his face.

I take his hand and he looks at me and smiles. "It's going to be fine! Stop looking so nervous!"

"It's not the exhibition I'm worried about" He points out the window.

I turn we're have pulled up to the Eiffel Tower.

"Dominic, what are we doing here?"

He smiles "I thought we could go up it together as we planned," he says.

"Now? What about the exhibition?"

"We can be five minutes late," he takes my hand and leads me out of the car.

"So, this is what you're so nervous about? I thought you didn't mind heights?"

"It's not the heights. Come one, let's go" we get to the 3rd floor as we step out of the lift there is a guy holding a bouquet of roses.

He hands them to me "I hope you like them" Dominic says.

"They're beautiful. Did you plan this?" I ask.

He blushes "I did. The day you told me you were coming to Paris" He takes my hand and leads me to the railing.

The view is beautiful Paris is lit up! "Wow, it's beautiful! I'm glad we have done this together!"

"Me too! Leona, there was another reason why I brought you here. I've wanted to ask you for a while, but face to face"

He takes a breath, "I love you with all my heart, I can't imagine my life without you. I'm done looking for the one as I have found it in you. So, will you be my girlfriend?"

I feel like I'm going to burst "Dominic, I would love to be your girlfriend!"

His lips crash to mine and I wrap my arms around him.

I am his girlfriend and he is my boyfriend!

Here it is lovely especially for you @khoicesbyk

#ludia #lovelink #ludia lovelink #lovelink fanfic #dominic wright #dominic wright fanfic #dominic x mc

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