#The gay is radiating off of him happy pride month | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

here2bbtstrash · 2 years

Text

love the way you wear that (explicit)

genre: fully 100% smut, not a shred of plot to be found

pairing: trans m!jimin x reader

summary: you can't resist the handsome stranger that approaches you at your favorite gay bar, especially not when he's wearing that skirt.

word count: 4k

contains: jimin is Bi, Trans and in a Skirt (that's what BTS stands for right), jimin has a vagina and so does reader, alcohol, set in a gay bar/club, sex with a stranger, grinding/thigh riding, semi-public sex (club bathroom), jimin is a needy slut, reader is lowkey a dom, dirty talk, teasing/begging, fingering, cunnilingus, a little bit of hold the moan/orgasm denial, a pinch of pussy slapping, also there's a vibrator, and as previously stated, NOT ONE OUNCE OF PLOT

A/N: HAPPY PRIDE MONTH BITCHES!!!!!! please enjoy this insanity, i swear it was meant to be a drabble and then oops. i couldn't have written this without @jjkeverlast and @gimmethatagustd getting me hooked on sub!jimin and @kookiecrumb and i having a TRULY WILD conversation last night that has forever changed me as a human lmaooooo 👀

thanks as always for reading, queer & trans lives fucking MATTER 💜

this is also on AO3!

~*~

God, you love pride month.

Even though you go out year-round, the energy of your favorite local gay bar completely changes on the first night of June. Everyone is even more feral, even more unapologetic, whether that’s dressed up or undressed, bedazzled or leather-clad, gay or bi or trans or yes, please. Everyone is sweaty and drunk and fucking beautiful.

Still shivering from the shot you just downed, you turn away from the table only to realize your partner in crime has vanished, which is admittedly par for the course with them. You do your best to squint through the dim lighting and mass of bodies until your gaze finally finds them, halfway across the club. When you realize they’re busy playing tonsil hockey with a tall blonde femme with a sleeve tattoo, you can’t help but smirk. Good for them.

You’re only a little jealous– you’d be down to touch tongues with someone, too. But the night is young.

Making a mental note to check in again with them before you leave, you slip back into the center of the crowd, your favorite place to be. Bodies press and bump you this way and that, and when the unmistakable tongue-popping of a club remix of Janelle Monáe’s Make Me Feel comes over the speakers, you think the place might explode.

A full smile breaks across your face, and when another surge of movement shifts you deeper into the crowd, you almost collide with someone.

They turn around, and you catch a glimpse of a he/him pin fastened to the collar of his black crop top. You’re glad to know you’re gendering him correctly in your head when you think it, because fuck, he looks good.

His deep red, nearly magenta hair is cut short on the sides but kept long on top, enough that a few sweaty strands dust over his forehead. He reaches up to brush them away, still moving fluidly to the beat, when his eyes meet yours.

You realize you’re probably in trouble when just one glance makes your core throb.

When he bites down on his full bottom lip and gives you an appreciative look up and down, taking his sweet time with it, you have to remind yourself how to breathe.

For a brief moment you wish your wingperson was still with you– they’re so much better at initial flirting, even to the point that they can do so on your behalf– but then his arms slide around your waist and you swear sparks radiate off your skin at his touch.

“Hi,” he says with a smile that would almost seem shy if it wasn’t so damn flirtatious. Your face heats up and you giggle, entirely flustered by the attention, and he takes the opportunity to press his hands to your back and pull you flush against his body.

You know he doesn’t miss your sharp inhale because he laughs softly in your ear.

“H-hi,” you finally manage to stammer. His hips roll into yours as if to reward you for a response, and you think you might melt into a puddle on the dancefloor. Or at the very least create one– you can already feel yourself getting wet for this complete stranger.

Gay bar, gay bar, you have to remind yourself. This has happened before, a gay man who’s a few too many drinks in getting extra handsy, and you having to detach him from your tits because unfortunately you know he isn’t really interested.

You will yourself to simply enjoy this stranger’s attention while you have it, and not read into it any further than that.

“Do you come here often?” You have to nearly press your lips to his ear to ensure he hears you, and you can’t help but wince a little as you use the oldest line in the book. You’re sure he doesn’t; you’ve never seen him before. You’d definitely remember.

He shakes his head, his hips still rolling against yours, aggressively enough now that it takes every brain cell you have to process his words.

“Just visiting.” His voice is light, almost musical. “What’s your name, gorgeous?”

You tell him and he repeats it into your ear in a whine that’s unabashedly sexual, his hands slipping from your waist to your ass. You’re dying to make him say it like that again. You have to fight to keep your tongue in your mouth.

“I’m Jimin,” he purrs, and he shifts slightly as he says it so that your legs interlock, giving each of you a firm thigh to grind against. You welcome the friction and let your head drop onto Jimin’s shoulder as you roll your hips over him.

It’s only once you glance down that you see the black miniskirt he has on, and above that, the warm golden skin and solid muscles of his stomach that his crop top doesn’t even attempt to cover.

Fucking hell. You’re about to soak right through your jeans if he doesn’t stop.

When Jimin gives your ass another squeeze, you know you have to shut it down. Otherwise you’re going to end up coming on this very nice gay guy’s thigh.

“Whoever gets to take you home tonight is a lucky man,” you tilt your head up to murmur against his skin. A chain is looped around his neck with a long, silver pendant dangling from it that catches the light as he moves.

For less than a second, the pace of his hips falters, and you see a small smile toying at the corners of his plush lips. He doesn’t respond, only hums a little sound that’s almost a sigh.

Jimin’s hands relent from your curves and you really could whimper at the loss, but rather than leave, he turns around so his tight little ass presses into your core. You can’t help yourself– your hands slide up along the smooth, firm muscles of his thighs, and you’re just barely flirting with slipping them up past the hem of his skirt.

His legs are so well-defined, you realize; he must be a dancer. Honestly, maybe a sex worker. If he isn’t, he should consider it. He’s too fucking good at this.

He leans forward, throwing it back against you in a way that renders you fully stupid, and as his hands slide up over his own hips, that’s when you notice the tattoos on his arms. Two of them, to be specific, inked in identical placements, one on each tricep. Two pride flags that you instantly recognize: bisexual and transgender.

Holy shit.

Jimin must be able to tell that you’ve gotten the message– your hands and hips freeze as you try to process the information, and he turns back to face you, this time looping his arms around your neck cutely. You could be slow dancing at prom, if prom was in a packed gay bar.

“Does that work for you?” He bats his lashes as he asks the question. You wonder if literally anyone has ever said no.

Instead of trying to string a sentence together, you respond by taking advantage of the chain around his neck and using it to pull his mouth to yours.

His lips are soft and warm, and when you feel him start to kiss back, you’re glad to be the one to raise the stakes this time. You tilt your head and slip your tongue into his mouth, and Jimin responds by fully moaning into yours. His hands move down your shoulders to clutch at your back.

Oh, he’s needy. This is going to be fun.

Responding to his eagerness, you slip your hands entirely under his skirt this time. He’s either in a thong or fully commando, because you only feel smooth skin under your touch. His ass is so firm and perfect that you just have to give it a little smack. He whines loudly at your touch, and you can’t help but groan, too, at the way his ass jiggles under your palm.

Jimin breaks away from you, breathless, his face flushed. The flirtatious facade is totally undone now– you can see how desperate he really is. It looks so good on him.

It’s funny how quickly the tables have turned, you think as you grip him tightly in both hands. “I like your tattoos,” you murmur, your face still so close to his that your lips are nearly touching.

His gaze is locked on your mouth. “I like you.”

You’ve had your fair share of one night stands, but nothing’s ever gone quite this fast. You’re not sure if it’s the alcohol, or the arousal, or perhaps the spirits of your queer elders that possess you to ask the question, but ask it you do. “Should we go somewhere?”

He pauses, just for a second– it’s the first time you’ve seen him look hesitant all night. Your stomach flips a little, and you wonder if you went too fast.

Jimin blinks his big doe eyes up at you, then moves his lips to your ear so you can hear him clearly. “For my own safety, I need to confirm. You do understand that I have a vagina, right?”

You reach for one of his hands with your own, the other still firmly cupping his ass. Shifting back to look him in the eyes, you intertwine your fingers with his.

“Yes,” you confirm, speaking loud enough to be heard over the music because you don’t want to break eye contact with him by leaning in. You want him to see how much you mean this. “And I’m very into it.”

He keeps you fixed in his gaze, giving your hand a squeeze. “Come on, then.”

Your heart hammers in your chest as the two of you press your way through the crowd, and you lead him towards the bathrooms. You see a little more worry cross his stunning face, and you give his hand another affirming squeeze.

“Best part of a gay bar,” you call over the din. “All-gender bathrooms.”

The one you stumble into is empty, but you still push Jimin towards one of the stalls, locking it firmly behind you. As soon as you’re sure the lock’s in place, you pull him to you with your still-joined hands, turning around to press your hips into him and slam him up against the door.

“Fuck,” he gasps as you rough him up. His pupils are blown with lust, his full lips just barely parted. You’re going to go insane if you can’t have him right now.

“Wanna taste you so bad,” you murmur into his neck, and Jimin whines again, his head tipping back against the wall.

“Please,” he hisses. “Do whatever you want with me.” All the possibilities that sentence offers to you make your head spin.

You bite down on his shoulder as you hike up that pretty little skirt, and your own cunt floods at the sight of him. He is wearing underwear, after all– a lace thong that’s pale blue in color, light enough that when he spreads his legs, you can see it’s completely soaked through.

“See what you did to me?” Jimin can barely get the words out; his voice is shaking with need. You pull him back in for a heady kiss, both of you moaning as you lick your tongue over his.

When you hook your fingers under the lace band of his panties and push them down, he cants his hips up toward you in pure desperation, clearly unable to stop the soft noises that fall from his lips. You slide one hand slowly up his thigh, teasing, stopping just short of where he needs you.

You can’t help yourself. The power trip is too good.

“Beg for it.”

Jimin’s back arches up at the order, his head nearly slamming into the wall. “Please, please, please. Make me come on your fingers. Let me be a little slut for you.”

“Yeah?” You’re pretty sure your own arousal is dripping down your thighs at this point, but you’re too focused on him. “Is this what you want?” He practically sobs when you slip a finger into his drenched cunt and rub hard against his front wall.

“Yes, yes, fuck, baby–” Jimin’s knees threaten to give out, his hands fisting in the fabric of your shirt like he’s hanging on for dear life.

Any trace of your initial shyness is long gone as you fully embrace the way you’re making him unravel. You can’t help but smirk. “It’s that good, huh? You want another?”

He bites down hard on his bottom lip, like he’s just remembered you are technically fingering him in public, but still whimpers encouragingly as he rocks his hips up to meet your touch. You have to drop your head on his shoulder as you press a second digit into him. Your own desperation is nearly overwhelming, especially now with the way he’s soaking your hand.

“God, you’re fucking wet. My pretty little slut,” you grunt against his neck, and you can hear him gasping for breath. “Couldn’t even wait for me to take him home. Had to come all over my hand in the bathroom instead. So fucking needy.”

Jimin seems to lose the battle to keep quiet, moaning something that you think is supposed to be words but is thoroughly incoherent. You glance up to see his eyes roll back in his head, and you take that as your cue to bring the pad of your thumb to tap on his clit.

His hips jerk wildly into your hand when you do, and you keep your touch as light as you can in case he’s extra sensitive there. He’s breathing through clenched teeth and whimpering with every exhale, and he doesn’t have to be able to speak for you to know he’s insanely close. The way his cunt squeezes tightly around your fingers tells you everything.

You open your mouth to say how good he looks, all fucked out like this, when you hear the bang of the bathroom door being slammed open.

Shit. Honestly, you’d really lucked out for making it this far without anyone else coming in. Jimin’s eyes widen and you falter for a second as you hear the footsteps of someone going into one of the other stalls.

You pray they aren’t curious enough to look down and see two pairs of feet next to them, clearly not using the bathroom for its intended purpose.

When you glance back up at Jimin, you can still see the desperation painted all over his face, and it looks almost painful now considering how close he must have been. Rather than pulling out, you bring your other hand up to cover his mouth and lean in, bringing your lips as close as you can to his ear.

You just barely breathe the words, praying the ambient club noises are enough to keep them from your neighbor. “Can you be quiet, my little slut?”

Jimin nods so hard you think his head might fall off, and you can’t help but smile. He really is so fucking cute. You’d kiss him if you weren’t afraid of him moaning at the feeling.

You’re more aware of your surroundings than you’ve been since you laid eyes on Jimin, enough for you to realize that you vaguely recognize the Becky G song that’s currently bumping in the club. Even in here, the thud of the music thrums through you, and you set the pace of your fingers inside Jimin to match, your other hand still clamped over his mouth.

Keeping your movements aligned with the music helps cover the sound a little, but Jimin’s pussy is so slick that there’s still an unmistakable wet noise of your fingers working inside him. You pray whoever’s next door is fucked up enough not to notice, or that they think it’s just a leaky faucet somewhere.

Jimin’s eyes flutter closed again, his hips rolling up to match the rhythm perfectly. Definitely has to be a dancer. You can feel his jaw fall slack, his full lips pressing open against your hand, and you reward his obedience by returning your thumb to circle his clit.

Your focus should really be on making him come as quietly as possible, but you can’t help it. He looks too fucking good, ruined panties around his ankles and skirt hiked up to expose his dripping cunt.

You lean in and lick a stripe up his neck before you can tell yourself not to.

He pants hard into your hand, brows pinching together with the effort of staying quiet, and you dip your head to his neck again, sucking hard on the delicate skin there. His whole body shakes as you leave your mark; you swear you can feel him drooling.

After what seems like a fucking eternity– they were probably drunk, to be fair– you finally hear your neighbor stumble out to the sink to wash their hands, and then the sound of the door creaking open and closed again.

You release Jimin from your grasp and he’s laughing as he gasps for air, heading rolling side to side against the wall of the bathroom stall. You press your fingers a little harder into him until the laugh turns into a moan. “Fuuuuck, oh my god. That was crazy.”

The hand that’s no longer covering his mouth slides down, just barely ghosting over his throat but applying no pressure. “You did so good. Ready for your reward?”

He takes his bottom lip between his teeth again as he whines and nods, and it’s all the encouragement you need to drop to your knees.

This time Jimin’s head actually does smack against the stall wall as you throw one of his legs over your shoulder and knock him off balance, but he’s whimpering loud enough that you figure he’s alright. His cunt is gorgeous, swollen and glistening with his arousal, and you smack it lightly a couple of times, if only because he’s too fucking fun to torment.

“Please, don’t tease me,” he groans. “I need to come so bad.”

As much as you enjoy the sound of him begging for you, it’s nothing compared to the high-pitched noises he makes once you finally bring your mouth to him. It’s enough to make your own cunt throb, which just makes you suck that much harder on his clit, your fingers slipping back inside him.

Without you there to steady him, Jimin has to brace his hands on either side of the stall, shaking violently as he tries to stay upright while you absolutely go to town on him. You groan against his cunt at how good he tastes and the vibrations shudder through him.

“Fuck, fuck–” you hear him gasp, and you don’t change a single thing: you just keep humming and sucking and fucking him with your fingers as he comes undone around you. When he finally climaxes, it’s with a moan that’s nearly a scream. You press your tongue flat against him and let him ride it out, feeling his walls flutter around you and his clit twitch as the aftershocks ripple through him.

When he can finally open his eyes, Jimin fixes you in a look of utter disbelief. “Who the fuck do you think you are, making me come that hard in a fucking club bathroom?!”

You laugh, unhooking his leg from around you and wiping at your chin as you stand back up. Before you even have time to process what’s happening, he’s grabbing at your shirt and turning to press you up against the wall, his lips crashing into yours. You kiss him back as best you can, though your jaw is a little tired, and he hums appreciatively when he slips his tongue into your mouth.

Jimin pulls back, still keeping you close and watching you through heavy-lidded eyes. “I taste good.”

You have to laugh. “You would think that, you little slut.”

His hands are already fumbling to unzip your jeans, and you lift your hips up to help him, your eyes fluttering closed. You feel like you’ve been edged the whole night just being around him. You might come the second he touches you.

“Can I get you off?” He murmurs as he pulls your pants and underwear down at the same time, and you whine because you want it so bad.

“God, yes.”

“Can I use this?” You open your eyes to focus on him and realize he’s holding up the thin silver cylindrical pendant of his necklace, which he’s slipped off from around his neck. For a second you wonder if he means to put it inside you, but then he presses a hidden button and you can just barely hear it start to vibrate.

Fuuuuuuck.

“I promise it’s clean,” he laughs, and it’s your turn to beg. You can’t do even one more second of pleasantries, not when your pants are off and that thing is buzzing in his hand.

“Please, please.” You spread your legs as wide as they’ll go, and you feel his hand come to cup your jaw. He doesn’t say anything, only watches you intently as he nestles the vibrator between your folds, the tip of it pressing into your clit.

“Oh holy shit–” you gasp, your back arching violently at the feeling of finally, finally having contact where you need it most after so much anticipation.

“Mm-hmm,” he hums in agreement, and then he presses the button again and the intensity increases. “Just tell me if it’s too much.”

“N-n-no,” you can barely get a fucking word out, and when you do it’s more like a shattered moan. “It’s perfect.” A fresh wave of arousal floods your pussy; your juices are fully running down your legs now.

When he presses the button a third time, tears start to prick at the corners of your eyes. “Jimin, Jimin,” you wail, and he tilts his head slightly, pursing his lips a little.

“Too much?”

You shake your head so violently the room spins. Your whole body is trembling from the sheer, overwhelming pleasure of the vibrations running through you as he grinds the toy into your clit. “No, no, I’m gonna– oh my god, Jimin, I’m gonna fucking–”

Your orgasm doesn’t wait for you to finish the thought. This time it’s your turn to bang your head on the wall as you come so hard you see stars behind your eyes.

Your hips buck and shudder against the vibrator in Jimin’s hand until you make a strangled whine of overstimulation, and then he relents and turns it off. The sensation of his full lips pressing kisses along your jaw is the perfect gentle welcome back to reality. You slowly open your eyes again, your heart still hammering in your chest.

“I think–” your voice cracks embarrassingly when you try to speak, and you clear your throat as Jimin fails at attempting to bite back a giggle. “I think we’re even now,” you try again. “On the whole coming hard in a bathroom thing. Dear god.”

He presses his forehead to yours. “This was fun.”

“Very fun,” you agree, and you tilt your jaw up to gently kiss him. He’s smiling when he pulls away, and you can’t help but do the same. “Now get your skirt back on, slut.”

You help him pull up his panties and readjust his skirt as he tucks the used vibrator into his pocket. Once he’s put back together, Jimin reaches down to tug your jeans up, giving your butt a firm smack while you fumble to zip your fly.

As you slip out of the stall and the bathroom entirely, you find his hand in yours, your fingers interlacing just as they were when you entered. You head back to the dancefloor where Rihanna’s S&M is absolutely blaring, and it’s somehow the perfect closing soundtrack for this crazy fucking encounter.

You can’t help but echo the thought you had earlier in the night: god, you love pride month.

#jimin x reader #jimin smut #jimin x y/n #bts smut #bts x reader #love the way you wear that

443 notes · View notes

chikkienuggie · 2 years

Note

Do you have a celebrity crush? Do you like them because of looks or personality?

I can’t think of a crush off the top of my head but I love Harry styles bc he just radiates love and positive energy and his concerts just seem like such a happy place to be and he starts off every show with “tonight you can be whoever you want to be” and I just feel like his shows are a safe space to be gay or trans without being judged or harassed and he runs around the stage during pride flags and he literally has a song called treat people with kindness

He also remembers fans there’s two videos and the first one is this girl asking him to come out to her mom for her and he asks what her mom’s name is and where she’s seated and he turns and goes “TINA SHE’S GAY” and then like 18 months later she’s at another show and he recognizes her during watermelon sugar and he gets SO excited and shouts “TINA SHE’S GAY” and there’s another fan that asked him to sing happy birthday but it was her half birthday and then at another show she has a sign saying “it’s my birthday” and he sees it and goes “STOP LYING TO ME YOUR BIRTHDAY IS IN JUNE” and the fact that he just remembers fans like that is so cool to me

Also sometimes you can tell he stopped going to school when he was 16 like he’s so stupid sometimes and I love it

#asks #pumpkin

4 notes · View notes

skytroops · 2 years

Photo

he doin sum gay gazing

Despite getting top surgery, it took a long time for Skye to gather the courage to be shirtless around others. There were times he would take his shirt off while working at home, but he avoided being seen. As much as he wanted to be just like all the other guys around him, he knew that his scars would make it obvious that he was trans and he. . .doesn’t want people to know. Not when there’s people like Megan out there.

It isn’t until he starts HRT and starts seeing gender-affirming changes in himself (and the burning jealousy he feels whenever he’s around kiawe and prof kukui) when he feels brave enough to try being shirtless. His first step, he decides, would be showing Ash as he is the only other person in Alola he trusts with such a vulnerable task.

He’s embarrassed when he tells Ash what he wants to do, but admits that he feels weird about doing it in a place someone may walk in on them. Ash doesn’t get the implication of undressing in private with your partner usually meant (of course he doesn’t,,), but he’s more than happy to be a supportive boyfriend and offers to take Skye to the island he and Pikachu went to once.

They head to the island the next day and after some awkward stalling involving getting Ash to go first, Skye takes his shirt off. He immediately wants to run and hide but he manages to keep steady, even when he sees Ash stare at him for a little too long.

On Ash’s side of things, he’s surprised to finally see the results of the top surgery. He remembers Skye being in the hospital and the weeks of recovery when they had only just started dating. He notices Skye becoming increasingly uncomfortable, so he tries to distract Skye by leading him to the meadow in the middle of the island to show him all of the Pokemon that live there.

It takes some time, but the initial fear fades as Ash shows him around and gets introduced to the Pokémon Ash had befriended. He starts to have fun and feels like a giant weight is being lifted from his shoulders. Like he’s finally able to be a guy without worrying about how others perceive him. Like he was him.

Skye rides his gender high long into the afternoon, even when they take a rest at the beach after taking a swim. This is when Ash finally takes a moment to take in Skye’s uncharacteristic giddiness. He thinks about the hospital again, about the needles, about all the things Skye had to go through to get where he is right then. And he looks at Skye again, practically feeling the happiness radiating off of him. Joy looks good on him. Ash wishes he could be this happy forever.

Slowly been doing my watercolour project throughout May. Still not finished, but almost there! I was gonna post them in order, but gave up on it pffMaybe I'll post one a day so that I don't spam and get content out during Pride Month, as almost every watercolour is about the gheys lol

I've been trying to draw this scene for a while, but the perspective and Skye's posing always didn't turn out the way I wanted it. It still didn't in this version, but fuck it it's done and traditional art be wonky.I decided that I'd try practicing the OG Sugimori style around halfway through the project, so expect a lot of them to look like this.

I've drawn Skye suffering due to his gender dysphoria many times, so it's good to draw him experiencing gender euphoria and being happy about his identity.

ya just need good trans vibes sometimes

#sparky's art #the ghey ass boyfriends;#greyscale alola arc

3 notes · View notes

babyyweebbitch · 3 years

Text

Pride with the RE boys

Happy pride month! I’m still working on my requests but I wanted to post this in honour of Pride month. 🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈 also my Requests are closed until I have most of them done

Genre // fluff

Characters // Chris Redfield ; Leon Kennedy ; Carlos Oliveira

Chris Redfield

Let’s be real, Chris Redfield gives off very much Bisexual vibes

But if you don’t think he does he’s 100% supportive of the LGBT+

If you’re apart of the LGBT+ community he will help you for either a pride parade or something like that

He’ll go to one every week of the month for you

If you’re bi and you’re dating him, he’ll buy you a Bisexual flag for the living room or paint a wall in the house the Bisexual flag

If you’re lesbian/gay he will do the exact same thing.

He doesn’t see you any less because of your sexual orientation.

He’s actually the type of friend to be very protective because he knows how sick people can be towards the LGBT community

In conclusion big buff beef boi supports ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜

🏳️‍🌈 ————————————— 🏳️‍🌈

Leon Kennedy

I feel like Leon is straight and is very VERY supportive

He may not know a lot about it so please be patient when explaining stuff to him, he’s old 🥲

If your Bisexual (and a woman) you both have something in common — Liking pu-

He will 101% go to a pride parade

He’ll proudly hold up the flag for his friend/spouse

Will shoot someone in the kneecaps if they DARE make fun of you for liking the same sex or being transgender

If you’re starting your transition with MtF or FtM he’ll help you and even help pay if you can’t pay for certain stuff

Leon does ask a lot of questions because he doesn’t really understand a lot of new age stuff.

He was also one of the first people you came out to. This was his response: “I don’t care what you are. As long as you’re okay right now and happy — I’m happy”

In conclusion he will shoot someone’s kneecaps if they hurt you

🏳️‍🌈 ————————————— 🏳️‍🌈

Carlos Oliveira

Not straight, can never be straight, has never been straight. A whole ass Pansexual. Fight me

Carlos just radiates pansexual for some reason to me.

Every year he goes to a pride parade in whatever city he’s in at that moment.

When you came out to him as (sexuality) he first hugged you so you’d stop crying then took you shopping for pride stuff

This man has dated them all, men, woman, transgender men/women, bisexual men/women. Gay men. HES DATED THEM ALL, the list is ENDLESS

He will not hesitate to fight someone in order to protect either you or someone in the LGBT

He will also shoot someone in the knee caps for harassing someone in the LGBT+ community

HIS FIRST KISS WAS A MANNNNNNNSJHDN

In conclusion 🍳

I had to go back and edit it (edited June 8th,2021)

#resident evil #resident evil 3 #resident evil 2 #resident evil 4 #resident evil 6 #resident evil 5 #resident evil village #resident evil 7 #Chris Redfield #chris redfield x reader #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #Carlos Oliveira #carlos oliveira x reader #pride month #happy pride #biseuxal #gay #lesbian

424 notes · View notes

hankwritten · 3 years

Text

Litany

Gen, 2k

Part of the DontNeedADiscord Pride Week, Day 1: Flag

“And what is the meaning of these?”

It was a good idea not to make Miss Helen pissy. She was the Boss around here, and not in the way Miss Pauling was the boss, but like the Boss with a capital B. I wasn’t exactly sure if she owned the building, or maybe the company, or maybe she was just our lawyer so we shouldn’t tee her off because of that, but the way Dell had explained it making her mad was a good way to have your desk packed by the end of the day.

So, I’d have to be very delicate about this. “They’re pins, Miss Helen,” I explained extremely politely. “It’s the first day of Pride Month; I thought everyone could do with a little company spirit!”

“Spirit?” The T on the end of the word popped like a firecracker. Miss Helen could make nice words like spirit or rainbows sound like she was actually saying dog doody. “And how exactly do these pins make you…prideful?”

“They’re fun!”

When she didn’t react, I at first assumed it was because she couldn’t hear me so well through my respirator, but then I considered what I knew about her and wondered maybe she simply didn’t know what fun was.

“Look,” I said, placing one in the palm of her hand. “It has a flag on it! I was thinking as people are coming in during the day, they can pick them out and wear them if they want to, just to show off a little color. See? This one is the bigender flag.”

She held it up and examined it like a jeweler inspecting a diamond. “And you find this…fun?

“Yeah!”

She waited, as though expecting the fun to start radiating out of the pin like a hand warmer. “…You certainly have quite a few of these.”

It was true. Along with the usual lollipops and stickers I kept at the front desk (the former being exclusively for clients and never-ever for sneaking myself one, no siree), the scattering of buttons took up a good chunk of counter space, with as many varieties as I could find. I didn’t want anyone to feel left out, so I’d just kept on printing until I had over three dozen.

“Very well,” Miss Helen said finally. “If it is good for company spirit.”

I clapped my hands in delight, glad the party wasn’t going to get shut down before it even started. So palpable was my relief, I didn’t even notice that Miss Helen hadn’t given the button back.

I didn’t have time to worry about it though, since just then Dr. Ludwig came in through the glass doors. He was normally the first one after me, as he always liked to get an early start down in the lab, and we’d developed a morning routine as fellow early birds.

“Dr. Ludwig!” I said, waving my hand, partly to get his attention and partly to show off the new gloves Dell had gotten me. The rubber ones had been so hard to type in, but these were nice and concealing as well as colorful. “Happy Pride Month! Do you want a pin?”

“Guten Morgen,” he greeted warmly. “Ah, buttons?” He picked up the closest one. “Pride buttons, I see.”

“Here you go!” I said, shoving a bi pin in his general direction since he’d shown interest.

But, to my surprise, he didn’t take it immediately. “Ehrm…” he said, staring down at the circle of metal.

“…Is this not the right one?” I withdrew my hand. Was I misremembering? “I’m so sorry, I guess I forgot…”

“No, no I did say that, didn’t I.” He ran a hand through his hair, sending its usual prim style haywire. “It is just…” He coughed lightly into his fist. “…Would you allow me to confide with you for a moment?”

Immediately, I pulled out the spare footstool I kept behind the counter, patting it as Dr. Ludwig came through the counter doors and took a seat. Our early morning chats were normally something to look forward to, shared over a donut or coffee he’d brought into the office, but today he just seemed run down. As he tucked his heels onto the stool’s crossbar, he rubbed his face.

“You know I am not as…up on all of this as some of your generation, ja?” he began.

“Millennials scare you,” I nodded, pulling my legs into my swivel chair.

“I wouldn’t go so far as to say that,” he huffed. “It is…well when we had our first conversations, and it was explained to me, it seemed to fit. At the time. Having to reconcile beginning a relationship with Mikhail when I still was not quite over Frida, nor really sure why things had fallen apart with us there.”

I remembered. “At the time? But not anymore?”

He sighed, ruffling his hair even more. “Now…now I am not so sure. Being with Mikhail is…quite different than any of the thirty years Frida and I spent together. I am starting to wonder if it was more just that I held extreme affection for her, and I was inexperienced enough that I was able to mistake it for attraction.” He chuckled humorlessly. “I thought I was so in love with her, and that’s why I never even looked at another woman. Töricht.”

“I don’t think that’s dumb,” I shook my head. “Everybody’s learning new things all the time. You can’t be expected to have everything sorted right after coming out.”

“Yes, I suppose,” he said. “But I still feel…guilty I think. Several of our coworkers are proudly attracted to both men and women, and I am aware that treating such a label as a ‘phase’ is a crude stereotype they have to deal with. I’d rather not have anyone think I was making a mockery of them.”

“It’s not a stereotype if that’s what’s really happening.” I patted him on the shoulder. “No one’s going to see it like that. If you think that’s where your journey is taking you, then there’s no shame coming out a second time.”

Dr. Ludwig responded to my words with a hopeful, if not entirely convinced, look behind his spectacles.

“Here,” I said, handing him both a bi and a gay pin. “You don’t have to wear either of them, this is just for fun after all! But if you change your mind…”

He looked at the two pins in his hand, then smiled tiredly up at me. “…Thank you mein friend. You are always helpful to talk to.”

“I try to be!”

After a few more assurances, the Doctor did eventually leave for the lab. Right on his coattails, Dell and Marcel came through the front door.

“Hey there, firebug,” Dell greeted. “What are you gettin’ up to here?”

I gave the quick rundown, pulling my shirt to highlight my own pin since I’d forgotten to show it off to my first two customers. “Pick any one you like!”

“Bear in mind I am saying this as a queer person,” Marcel said, sniffing down at the massive mound of multicolored circles, “this is all quite tacky.”

“Aw, learn how to have some fun, Spook,” Dell said, elbowing him in the side. To show him up, he claimed a pansexual pin for himself, and shot me a wink.

Marcel did nothing but sniff; but, when he thought no one was looking, I saw him discreetly sneak one of the pins off the counter as he left.

After that, the morning’s influx picked up too much to greet every person individually, but during lunch people saw fit to swing by and check things out again.

“Hi buddy!” Miss Pauling greeted. “I heard you were giving out Pride pins and wanted to see if- why are there so many lesbian ones?”

“Well!” I said, ecstatic to launch into an information dump. “The oldest of these is actually the ‘lipstick lesbian’ flag which, in absence of a more generic one, was used without the kiss mark in the corner. The one with the orange stripes wasn’t created until 2018, to be more inclusive all different lesbian groups.”

“Okay, but why does this one have an axe on it?”

“That’s the labrys!” I took the purple and black pin from her hand, pointing as I described, “the double bearded axe was used by the Amazons in Greek myth, and reappropriated in 1999 for its symbolism in female empowerment.”

“Wow,” she blinked down at the five different designs. “That’s really cool, except for the fact I have no idea how to use an axe.”

“I bet Tavish could teach you, he loves his Skullcutter.”

“…I’ll think about it. I’ll just take this one for now.” She picked up the orange five-stripe variation and pinned it to her purple shirt.

“Looks good!”

“Thanks!” she grinned. “And it was really nice of you to do this.”

“Honestly, the pleasure’s all mine. I just like seeing everyone happy.”

And everyone was! At least it sure seemed that way, even if it was kind of hard to tell with Mikhail. After lunch, he lumbered past my desk, picked out a gay pin, and put it on without so much as a smile. I took the muted grunt to be that of satisfaction

Tavish was next, dropping off half a roast beef sandwich since I’d forgotten to eat today, and instantly becoming my favorite person. While I was chowing down, he swiped two trans and two bi pins from my collection.

“Wadda you need two of each for?” I asked, quite a feat with my mouth full of roast beef and my respirator hanging halfway around my chin.

“Haven’t you heard?” Tavish asked with a raise of his eyebrow. “They just dropped a new identity: double bi. It’s twice as potent as regular bisexuality.”

I tilted my head, blinking perplexedly from behind my lenses.

“Ah, just a joke duck,” he assured. “The spares are for the husband.”

“Oh, right.” I swallowed down my mouthful. “I actually haven’t seen Jane at all today?”

“Ach, he came in earlier than you. Left at five this morning.”

“What? How?” I shook my head. “I’m the one who unlocks the doors.”

“Said he was tired of waiting for your ‘lazy, unpatriotic behind’ to start the day at seven. His words, not mine.” Tavish smiled apologetically. “He broke into one of the lab side doors.”

“…I bet Mikhail had something to say about that.”

He sighed. “That he did. They’ve been at it for hours. If there’s another office-wide prank war tomorrow, you’ll know why.”

Oh no. That’s how we lost our last two coffee makers, and our last seven office hamsters. Tavish assured me that it wouldn’t get out of hand, but by the time Mick showed up near the end of the day, my mood was somewhat dampened.

“Everything alroight, Campfire?” he asked me. “Ya look glum.”

“Just thinking about the impending damage to all those nice posters I put up in the breakroom,” I said sadly. “But! If you’ve come here to pick out a pin, that might cheer me up a bit.”

Mick chuckled in that cute little way of his, and already I was smiling. “Might have.”

We were close enough that I was ninety-five percent certain which one he wanted, but I’d learned my lesson with Dr. Ludwig and didn’t try to pick it out for him. Still, I let myself entertain a self-satisfied grin as he picked up the aroace flag.

“Hey uh,” I said. “If that’s the one you like, and uh…since I know you’re into archery…”

Carefully, I opened one of my drawers and extracted the special pin I’d made earlier, Mick watching me curiously all the while.

“Someone on the internet made this design,” I explained. “It’s for an aroace, arrow-ace!”

The flag was blacked out in several places to make a bow and arrow shape, and Mick grinned as he took it from my glove. “Clever.”

“Do you like it?” I asked hesitantly.

“Well, let’s see.” He pinned it to his vest. “Looks pretty good ta me.”

I couldn’t keep my stomach from doing a little flip at that. When Dell showed up, the last to leave the office for the day, he could tell I was smiling even through the mask.

“Everything go well, partner?” he chuckled. “You look pleased as punch.”

“Everything went great! Even Scout came by, although all he did was say ‘hey, free crap!’ and dumped a bunch of pins into his pocket.”

“I’m glad to hear the attempt at company spirit was a success,” a voice from behind Dell said, making us both jump. Miss Helen emerged from the shadows, her purple jacket an entire mass of pride pins, nearly one of every kind. When had she gotten all those? Had she been paying Marcel to sneak them out while I wasn’t looking? “A happy work environment is a productive work environment, as I always say. Well done, secretary.”

“Can’t remember you ever saying that, ma’am,” Dell admitted blandly.

“…Why do you have so many?” I asked.

“These are…fun…are they not?” she sniffed. “I am having…fun.”

Huh. Maybe this is just what she looked like when she was having a good time. I shrugged. “Glad you enjoyed yourself Miss Helen! Does that mean it’s okay to do it again next year?”

“…You have my permission.”

With that, she strutted out, and Dell shot me a grin. I scooped the remaining pins into my bag and closed up the front office, chatting with him on the way to the parking lot about how we could mix things up next year.

#dnadprideweek2021 #tf2 fanfiction

14 notes · View notes

221castiel · 4 years

Text

So Far He Passed Narnia

Happy national coming out day❤️❤️

It started in 1994, a few days after Dean's sixteenth birthday.

It was a simple case, just a salt and burn, but after John had made the connection that the ghost only killed gays, he turned it down, dragging Dean and Sam out of the city as fast as he could.

The feeling had come as the impala sped along the highway, the city only a silhouette in the background. An odd feeling in Dean's gut that made him sick in a way he couldn't quite explain. Guilt. That's what he told himself, as he glanced back from the passenger seat and to the city, guilt that those innocent people were dying, and they were doing nothing. Illness, is what he told himself as those feelings came back everytime his father spat out the word faggot in disgust, or turned down a case invloving a gay couple. Broken, is what he told himself anytime his eyes lingered on another man for more than a second.

They only stayed as feelings until 2002, at the age of 23. They'd just completed a case in Arizona, him, his dad, and Lee, and maybe him and Lee had a little too much to drink, and had gotten a little to close. Their hands wandering across each other, lips connecting, then clothing was being removed, lips wandering, touch grazing. And maybe Dean knew his dad would be back soon, and that when he did he'd beat Dean until he couldn't walk for days, and maybe Dean wanted it. The reminder that the feelings had to stay away, that he was broken, and maybe that's why Sam had ran away.

He never saw Lee again after that, or had the feelings, and deep down Dean could believe he was fixed. That was all he needed was a beating that was until Castiel came.

Then the feelings came rushing back, the guilt, the turning in his stomach, the absolute dread anytime Cas stared at him with such intensity. But it was all worth it to be with Castiel for as long as he could, watching his ocean blue eyes, the way he tilted his head, and his unusual traits that must've come from being an angel. The way he would at times stand frozen, not even breathing as if just a statue, or the lack of heat that radiated from skin, but not cold either, just nothing. All the things that made Castiel so much different than anyone else.

As the time rolled on and Dean fell further in love with Cas he began dropping hints to his brother. Unable to say the word himself and hoping that Sam would do it for him. He talked about doctor sexy, and the news as more states legalzied gay marriage. Anything that would get Sam's attention, so his brother could fix the guilt he always felt, tell him it was okay, make him feel better about himself like Sam always did.

The feeling's and stares only continued, for Cas, and then Benny, eyes lingering longer then they should, thoughts going places they shouldn't have. For the siren that had seemed like the perfect man, for victims they were helping and celebrities on tv.

The feelings only spiraled until 2015 came, a few months after Amara had brought Mary back, when Dean and Sam's life had fallen back into place. Spending most of the summer working on small cases, like normal, until one night when they were alone in a cheap motel room, the same day gay marriage had been legalized across the country. As they had worked the case, the rest of town had celebrated, the streets filled with music, dancing, and pride, more than Dean had ever seen. Everyone so themselves without fear of judgment

"Sammy." Dean asked that night, he was sat on one of the motel beds, facing his brother who was spread across the other scrolling through his laptop "Can I talk to you?"

"Yah of course."

Sam sat up properly, putting the laptop to the side. He moved his legs over the side of the bed and faced Dean, the concern in his eyes unmistakable. "So- it's kinda important, and i've been meaning to tell you for a while."

Dean paused waiting for his brother to say something though Sam stayed silent, "I know it might be a surprise, and I know you'll be okay with it, I mean I think you will-"

"Are you going to tell me, or?"

"Im- Im a type AB blood."

Sam frowned, his eyebrows furrowing, "Why- wha- I know that."

"Well yah, but just in case you forgot."

"Dean," Sam insisted, his voice dropped slightly becoming serious. "You can tell me anything."

Dean opened his mouth but the words wouldn't come out. Why couldn't he be like the people in the streets, proud about it, loud and not caring about what others thought, why was it so hard for him. He hated himself for being who he was, and he hated himself even more for not being able to be proud about who he was. But most of all he hated the loyal part of him, the part that even now, wanted to keep his dad happy, not shatter the loyalty he'd spent his whole life building.

"I'm," Dean choked out, his vision becoming foggy with tears, Why couldn't he just fucking say. "Sammy," Dean begged

His brother didn't say anything instead he stood, and took a seat next to Dean. At first Sam hesitantly put an arm around him, but as Dean lent into the touch Sam pulled him into a tight hug. "It's okay," Sam finally whispered, "you don't have to tell me."

Dean didn't reply, his tears breaking into sobs as he gripped tightly onto his brother, holding on as if Sam was the only thing keeping him alive. He wished he was dead, or normal. Everything would've been easier if John had just killed him.

Sam's hand rubbed across his back but it didn't nothing to calm Dean's shaking body. His face stained with tears and snot. "I'm broken," Dean finally choked out.

Sam shifted away slightly to see Dean's face though Dean kept his eyes down. His sobs had died down though tears continued to roll down his cheeks, dripping off his chin and falling to the bed. "Why would you think that."

"because-" Dean began, voice barely above a whisper. He didn't care how childish it was, sobbing on a bed at thirty six, but it was all he wanted, to shatter and for once have someone else pick up the pieces. "I'm- I'm."

He let out a shaken breath before looking up to his brother. "I'm gay."

Sam's face immediately dropped, and with it Dean's heart. The word seemed to hang in the air, leaving Dean no longer gasping for breaths but instead holding it. He shouldn't have said anything, maybe he should've brought his dad back to beat him one last time instead. "Dean-" Sam began, his voice soft, "I love you so much."

Dean lent forwrd as his brother once gaian wrapped in a tight hug, "I love you so fucking much and nothing is going to chnage that, I promise. You're my brother."

"Thank you," Dean whispered, tears beginning to fall once again though this time in relief.

"Does this mean you and Cas?"

Dean laughed nodding his head, "is that okay?"

"Yah, as long as you're happy."

#destiel #dean winchester #destiel fanfic #destiel fic #sam and dean #Sam and Dean fic #national coming out day #lgbtq #coming out #Castiel

24 notes · View notes

knightmaring · 3 years

Photo

tw self harm, blood, mentions of abuse, murder, death.

The stones were placed deliberately, a winding maze stretching out of the cave's mouth. He didn't know if Deimos was the god or hero of his people's religion, but it was a vital part of his identity and one of the only ways he could think to explain to his father.

Hudson sets the last stone in place and grabs his bag, pulling out a paper house. "Hey, Deimos..." he calls out to the night sky. "Dad or father. I don't know what you want me to call you, but, uh, it's me? Hudson. Your son." He steps forward into his maze. "I'm not really good with words and I don't know what sort of ...offering you're expecting." He continues on, winding around and into the cavern's mouth, swallowed by its darkness.

"I hope you don’t mind if I explain a few things first.” This wasn’t an offering of fear, because despite the fact that his father was the literal god of fear, Hudson didn’t feel… scary. Sure, people were intimidated by his stature and sometimes his skin color, or the simple fact that he was a man, but for the most part Hudson felt like a hamster in wolf’s clothing. “It’ll make sense in the end, I hope.” His heels click against the hard rock of the cave’s floor, each step accompanied by a soft jingle of the bobs of his spurs.

“My life's been... rough." He murmurs, licking his lips nervously. "The first five years my sisters and I, we were on and off the streets, in and out of foster care. Until we met Craig," he pauses and sets the house down on the floor between his boots. "It was the first real home we had and he was real nice, at first." Pulling his dagger from his belt, Hudson cuts the back of his hand. Blood trickles down, spilling around the paper house. "I was five years old when he married mom, and once that happened, it was like a light switch went off on him."

Shuffling forward, Hudson continues onward, a hand on the cave's wall to guide him. "I met Mr. Floyd a few months after that. Really cool dude. Taught me and my sisters a bunch of stuff. He's got a raccoon, Dipshit." Hudson pauses again, rummaging through his bag until he finds what he's looking for: a paper raccoon figure. "Mr. Floyd taught me to shoot a bb gun." He says, setting it down between his feet and repeating the process of cutting himself.

"We used to practice behind his shop on pictures of famous people. I got really good at it." He grins at the memory, finger gunning the darkness with a soft pew.

The grin slips away and he's back to wandering the maze nature had built into the mountain, a hand pulling out another paper creation from his bag. Calloused fingers rub at the folded edges of a gun. "Craig got worse. Mom didn't want to leave because we'd be without a house or food, which meant we'd get torn apart again... I was scared he might kill her or my sisters one day." He drops the paper gun, pressing the knife to his hand until he feels the sharp stick and the wet slick of blood again. Hudson lets out a hiss of pain. "So, I killed him. Pew!" Hudson mimics the finger gun motion again. "Right through his left eye."(edited)

The demigod grows quiet, frowning in the darkness. "The cops came and took mom away. My sisters and I ended up in foster homes. Separated." He pushes onward, the sound of ruffling wings and soft chirps from the cave's ceiling draw his gaze upward. Bats, he figures. "I bounced around a few homes after that, but the worst house was the Young’s. They used to put stuff in my food at night." His voice dips down to a strained, barely audible whisper. "I dunno if it was so I wouldn't fight back or if they thought I wouldn't remember, but---" Hudson's voice cracks and he stops, heart hammering in his chest. "I remember bits and pieces of what they did to me. Sometimes, I'll remember new things."

Hudson drops a paper cross to the ground, letting more blood rain down. A gust of wind that brushes past him, a soft flapping of fleshy wings trailing it. "Don't worry, life got better after that--- Some law got passed not too long after that and me and my sisters all got to go live with my grandma." He drops a little bird to the ground and continues with his trek. "Then, Mr. Floyd helped my mom get out of prison and they got married!" A blood slick paper ring is dropped.

"Things were good for a few years. For me, at least. My sister Denver had a harder time," he explains. "Craig had beat her real bad when we were young; got nerve damage in her leg. So, she was in constant pain... and," with his bloodied hand, he pulls out a paper hawk. "She lost hope that it'll ever stop hurting, that the chaos in her head will ever stop without the heroin." Kneeling to the ground, Hudson sets the bird down gently. "I got selfish, started spending more time with a girl in school---my first ever girlfriend---and I was barely home. Barely around to see Denver, to listen to her, to be there for her." He draws a fresh cut across his palm, wincing as he deepens it, almost as if he were punishing himself. "She got into a car accident. Killed some wealthy white dude who was out biking and drove off."

For a moment, Hudson simply sits there, letting his palm make a mess around the paper bird. It was one of the best years of his life, but all the good and happiness he experienced seemed small and insignificant when held up next to the heartbreaking events that lead up to his arrest and imprisonment. "We lived in Arizona, so you know, my sister coulda been tried as an adult even though she's just 16 and if that'd happened, then she woulda ended up on death row." A tear streams down his cheek. "So, I took the fall. I got that trial and ended up with that sentencing. She went to rehab, about four times. Then she overdosed five years later. I wasn't there for her again. I couldn't even attend her funeral.”

He sniffs back the avalanche of snot threatening to break free. "Prison sucked. Got stuck in the system for eight years, but thanks to a bunch of laws, my sentence was reduced to life in prison, then reduced again, and then commuted." He hisses as he pushes himself up off the cavern floor and presses onward. "Bounced around between jobs, bought my first house," if a mobile home counted as a house. "I was pretty active in the local anarchist community, and then uh, well, I ran for a city council seat... and I won."

He feels out the paper creations in his hand, and tosses the one he was fairly certain was a rainbow. "I jokingly proposed we legalize gay marriage in the city... as a publicity stunt for gay tourism, and uh... well, my bill passed." He lets out a laugh. "Yeah, the state government sued and apparently, that was the nail in the coffin for it to get bumped up to the Supreme Court." There's pride radiating off him. "Funny, huh? Bunch of scared old geezers suing us because they're afraid other cities in the state would copy cat and they'd be known as a gay state... well, their fear backfired on them real hard."

This was dragging on, and while he knew gods technically had all the time in the world, he suspected they also had the shortest attention spans in the world. "I met the love of my life a few years back," his grin softens into a pained smile. "Gideon, he's the most beautiful man I've ever met. He swept me off my feet with just a smile.” The lawyer was all sharp edges, cool as a cucumber, but there was a softness in his gaze when he looked at Hudson. Even his touches were soft, handling the demigod as if he were a delicate work of art. Hudson had never felt so cherished in his 30 years, and it hurt to think he might never experience that again.

“Dude was a cop---well, a prosecutor, which is just a cop with a college degree. He didn’t want to be one, he wanted do civil rights stuff, but his dad wouldn’t let him. It got him killed---he got him killed." The memory of him trying to stop Gideon from bleeding out comes rushing back to him. He sinks to the ground, a paper daffodil and heart in hand and simply breathes. Moments pass in silence before he speaks again. “I’m not telling you this so you feel bad for me. Life isn’t life without a bit of pain.” Granted Hudson had a whole lot more than a bit. “I just wanted to show you that no matter how many times my life went to shit, I kept at it and I’ll keep fighting because I have hope.” Hope that he could beat whatever evils that threaten them. Hope that he can make the world a better place. And hope that he can get Gideon back, no matter what it’ll cost him. He sets the last two of his paper creations down. “That’s what I’m offering.” He lets his head fall back against the hard cavern walls, staring up at the squeaking abyss above him. “I won’t stop no matter how hard it gets.” Suffering and hope went hand in hand. You couldn’t have one without the other. “I promise.”

A trail of blood, sweat, tears, and fears turned into hope.

#gsdrtask01 #@gsdrtask01

2 notes · View notes

hiddendreamer67 · 5 years

Text

The Dragonfly Curse

Summary: Roman often gets hit with small curses by the Dragon Witch- little things being forced to speak only in rhyme or becoming incredibly clumsy for a day. He hides this from the others, as to him they’re punishment enough for his failures. They’re small measly problems- which makes this latest curse ironic in that he’s reduced to a four-inch tall dragonfly-winged fairy.

Words: 4,780

This is a commission piece for @i-will-physically-fight-you! Thank you again for commissioning me, this was so much fun to write. :) My commissions are open! More information available on my blog.

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

Roman treaded through the forest, footsteps light as he fought to keep his presence unknown. Uneasily he twisted his wrist, the handle of his blade recognizing the familiar movements as he gave the sword a small twirl to calm his nerves. It grounded him, reminding him that even in this vast expanse Roman still had strength. A strength he had to wield if he intended to protect those he loved.

Imagination could be a fickle thing. Once upon a time, Thomas was young. His dreams were filled with puppy dogs and rainbows (the symbolism ever present in his gay subconscious), and Roman was happy to traverse the magical paradise that had appeared through a portal in his room. Back then it was a magical place, so full of laughter and cheer. Roman had always wished he could bring some of that wonderous joy into his own room so that he could let his fellow sides in on the fun.

Now, Roman’s greatest fear was exposing his family to this hell.

As Thomas had grown older, the Imagination had become overgrown with negative creations, a side effect of the dark sides no doubt. For far too long Roman had blamed Virgil for the shadow figures that now crept behind every tree, or the inky dark marshes that threatened to swallow unsuspecting villagers whole. Now Roman knew better; the horrible demons lurking around the Imagination had appeared on their own, independent of a single creator, instead representing something far darker than the embodiment of anxiety himself.

Roman chuckled darkly to himself. Maybe Virgil would be amusedly offended at the idea of something having a more terrifying aesthetic than his hundred layers of black eyeshadow. The image was nice to chuckle at, but Roman knew it would never be a reality. He couldn’t let Virgil, or anyone else he cared about for that matter, ever learn about these invaders. They were Roman’s problem alone, his burden to bear. Why else would the portal into Imagination only exist in his own room? Clearly this was his purpose as a knight- to protect those he loved, even from fear of danger itself. Ignorance was bliss, surely.

Of course, Roman was unable to hide everything from the sides, much as he wanted to remain covert. There were times when Roman would… lose. The Dragon Witch was a formidable opponent, much as Roman loathed to admit it, and she took pleasure in laying curses upon Roman for her amusement. These curses were hardly permanent but would carry into the mindscape. Perhaps this was the Dragon Witch’s way of trying to affect the world beyond this accursed land, knowing she herself could never get past the portal. Sending back a defeated and hexed Roman was the closest she could get to throwing something of her own into the mindscape.

Thankfully, these curses had never been particularly threatening to Roman’s physical form, just his pride. That only made them hurt worse in Roman’s mind. Was it not enough to be defeated in his own realm? Must she bruise his fragile ego? But in this way, she knew his weaknesses. Stabs wounds healed. The echoing laughter in his mind did not.

Roman thought back briefly, recounting some of her more memorable curses. One of the first had been upon his tongue, turning it a dull silver in mockery of the phrase ‘silver tongue’ and forcing the princely figure to only speak in rhymes. The others thought he was just being dramatic as ever, putting up with his antics as Roman attempted to compliment Patton’s cooking skills and ended up launching into an eloquent soliloquy about the talent of the heart to bring such “delectable, respectable, selectable treats to the table, how my dearest Patton have you proven yourself so able-“ and so the rhyming continued. Roman had even enjoyed that one, leaning into it to test his own feats of poetry. He challenged Logan to a rematch of their rap battle, this time proving himself a worthy opponent.

The Dragon Witch had been less than pleased when he returned the next week, whistling a nameless tune and declaring how “your devious plan backfired; I’m feeling rather inspired!” Perhaps it was his jesting that had earned him the next hex, cursing him to become unstable on his feet. Roman had spent the day tripping over himself, spilling water any time a cup was placed in his hands and falling flat on his face on more than one occasion. Roman could only play those instances off with the line “I’ve falling for you, my fairest Virgil!” so many times before it was clear that this behavior wasn’t going to end. Virgil told him to snap out of it, and Roman was forced to spend the rest of the evening in his room willing his boots to stop making a fool of him.

So the curses continued, slowly accumulating through the years to remind Roman of his failures. Each lasted only a day, gone by the time he woke the next day. Never the same curse- after all, being part of the Imagination, even the Dragon Witch had standards. Unoriginality wouldn’t stand. Normally Roman would appreciate this creativity, but used against him it was less than pleasant having to bravely face his punishments. Which is why Roman made it a point not to lose often.

Roman paused, his feet stopping atop the large carpet of leaves painted in beautiful golden hues. It would be a beautiful sight, if the stillness in the air did not make the hairs on the back of his neck stand so unpleasantly.

“I was almost thinking you would not show.” Roman spoke up, raising his voice. He kept his gaze straight ahead, giving no other indication he knew there was a trespasser amongst the woods. “Or rather, if you’re attempting to be sneaky, you need to work on your dramatics, you son of a birch.”

There was a giggling through the air, as though the trees found this insult particularly amusing. Roman thought they might, and he gave a small smirk, radiating the essence of a casual hero who was sure of his blade. Perhaps if he imagined himself as such, it would prove true.

“Son of a birch?” A tree, darker than the rest, appeared insulted off to the left a few more paces down the path. The foliage shifted, the tree shrinking and curling in on itself as a woman emerged from the wreckage. She looked annoyed, the atmosphere immediately darkening as she stepped forwards. “I was an aspen, you royal twig!”

“Well you’re certainly as-pain in my butt.” Roman retorted. The trees merely groaned at that one, a few of the younger saplings muttering amongst themselves as though trying to figure out what exactly he meant. Roman rolled his eyes. “Alright peanut gallery, I get it, not my best work.”

“Peanut gallery, now there’s an idea.” The Dragon Witch put a finger to her chin, as if considering an idea. “Perhaps when I beat you today I’ll turn you into a peanut plant. Or better yet, I’ll trap you in a peanut gallery comic, so you will be forced to watch everyone laugh at your antics.”

“I’ve already been a comic book character.” Roman groaned, pretending to be bored as he stretched out a crick in his neck. “And you did a strawberry bush only a month ago. Have you really run out of curses so soon? You seem a bit lost for inspiration. How about I do you a favor. After I kick your butt, you can spend the week thinking up better ideas.”

“You make me laugh, Prince Roman.” The Dragon Witch said, but her mouth was still a flat line. “But perhaps you should save the theatrics for your stage.”

“Gladly.” With no more fanfare, Roman charged, sword at the ready. He took a swipe at the Dragon Witch. Unsurprisingly, she disappeared in a cloud of dark smoke. Knowing this trick, Roman wasted no time in bringing his elbow reeling backwards, satisfied by the ‘oof!’ of pain that came as he painfully elbowed her in the stomach. Roman had no qualms against playing dirty against a girl, especially because gender is a social construct and she started it.

“Why, you little-!” Before she could wrap her claws around Roman the prince rolled to the side, coming up to face her head on again. The Dragon Witch growled, a ball of green flame appearing in her hand.

“You wouldn’t.” Roman squinted, trying to gauge how far his opponent would go.

“Oh, I would.” The Dragon Witch sneered, tossing the flame to the ground. Instantly the golden leaves began to catch fire, the flames spreading as quickly the entire scene became ablaze.

Roman’s eyes widened only momentarily before he began to frantically dash back down the path, the flames licking at his heels. He knew that the trees themselves would likely be protected, mere puppets designed by the Witch who wanted an audience (she always was one for theatrics), but everything else in this forest was fair game.

“You’re insane!” Roman yelped, shaking his leg briefly as his pants briefly caught fire. The Witch cackled at this, giving chase through the path as the green flickers did nothing to harm her. If anything, they curled around her ankles, hugging their creator gently.

“Liar liar, pants on fire!” The Dragon Witch seemed to only find humor in this scenario, grinning manically.

“What are you, twelve?” Roman huffed, his breathing becoming heaving as he fought to keep running. Why didn’t Thomas go to the gym more often? Probably due to Patton’s love of cookies. Even if Patton was a fluffball, at this particular moment Roman was wishing he could change a lot of the heart’s habits if only to gain a little more endurance for these aggravating chase scenes. When he got back to the Mindspace, Roman was certainly going to fill Thomas’ dreams with more eye candy muscled men in the hopes of inspiring him to exercise even once.

Too distracted by thoughts of shirtless men, Roman was oblivious to the branches reaching out for him until it was too late. The wooden limbs wrapped around him, forcing his sword to clatter to the ground as one of the tree spirits tugged him into a tight grip.

“No fair!” Roman pouted, watching the Dragon Witch approach with a devious smirk, her flames coming with her.

“What’s wrong, Prince Roman?” She feigned ignorance, lifting her hand to direct the flames to begin climbing the tree, getting closer and closer to his legs which were desperately trying to kick out of their way. “Come now, surely you haven’t been bested by a few candle flames and a tree? Get up, Prince Roman. Fight. Where’s that courageous hero who dared to march into myrealm just hours ago, dressed in regal colors and claiming ownership of a land he can never hope to control?”

“I YIELD!” Roman suddenly declared through gritted teeth, his knees tucked up to his chest as the fire licked at his boots. To declare himself unsuccessful hurt more than their burn, and as the flames disappeared Roman felt the own fire of determination dying in his heart.

It seemed recently it had burning out quicker with each battle, these losses slowly taking a toll on even his resolve.

“Aww, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” The Dragon Witch teased. Roman gave her a defiant glare.

“I already yielded, there’s no need to drag it out.” Roman huffed, slumping back in the tree’s embrace. “Just get it over with, do your thing. Give me your curse and I’ll be on my way. What will it be, the comic or the plant? Well? What are you waiting for?”

The Dragon Witch paused, her expression for once perfectly blank. “Why aren’t you afraid of me?”

“Why should I be?” Roman shrugged, feeling a bit proud that he could make her scowl even in her victory. A conversation was still a battle when it came to the Dragon Witch, and at least Roman could win this. “Your little curses are nuisances at best. Your strongest has only ever left me cowering under a blanket for a day. Just a day, nothing more. Nothing sticks. You can’t hurt me, not in any real way at least, because everything you do is temporary. Your magic is just little parlor tricks.”

“Little parlor tricks?!” She screeched and spat. “How dare you! You insufferable pest, you incompetent sprite, you infinitesimal thorn in my side!” The Dragon Witch’s eyes blazed with a fury unmated by any Roman had ever seen, and for the first time in forever Roman really did feel afraid. She struck her hand across his face, leaving a scorching mark with a familiar tingling feeling of magic.

“There.” The Dragon Witch hissed, letting the tree drop Roman into an unassuming pile on the ground. “How’s that for a parlor trick?” Without another word she spun on her heel and left. The fact that she didn’t stick around to watch her spell take effect was a sure sign that Roman had pissed her off more than usual, which likely didn’t bode well for whatever unfortunate hex had just been quite literally slapped upon him.

Roman groaned, his body feeling like it was collapsing in on itself as Roman curled up into a tight ball. A searing pain had begun just along his spine, and Roman heard the fabric of his shirt begin to tear. Rude; he was particularly fond of this ensemble. But even Princey couldn’t lament the ruination of his garments for long, instead letting out a gasp as another round of fiery discomfort shot through his back. Was this the curse? To be in misery for a day? It certainly made Roman regret being so mouthy.

Thankfully, the pain slowly began to ebb away, leaving only a dull ache in its wake. Roman felt as though something was laying across his back, and new nerves connected to these new appendages. Cautiously Roman opened his eyes, looking back for confirmation.

Wings- he had wings. Dragonfly wings, to be exact. It seemed the Dragon Witch was still just as fond of draconic irony as always.

“Well that’s not so bad.” Roman decided. Sure, they were painful to grow, and they would certainly be impossible to hide, but Roman had stayed in his room during a curse before. He gave them a cautious flutter, wincing as one wing smacked him in the face. Perhaps this would take a bit more practice.

Roman stood up, gaining his footing on the slippery leaf below him and prepping for a test flight. Wait… yes, that was leaf, singular. Roman stared down at his feet incredulously, not believing his eyes. That had to be a very large leaf, unless…

The princely figure let out a groan, looking up to see his suspicions were confirmed. The dark trees now loomed over him, appearing to be hundreds of feet tall. It wasn’t just wings, then. The witch had cursed Roman to become a fairy of all things, reduced to nothing but a poor copy of tinkerbell.

At this size, Roman was even more wary of Imagination land, picturing all the horrible creatures that could make quick work of him. He had to get back, now.

“Alright, faith and trust and all that jazz.” Roman psyched himself up, scrunching his face and giving his body a shake to let out his nerves. He focused on getting his wings to flap properly this time, nearly crying out in relief when his feet left the ground.

“Don’t look down.” Roman instructed himself, firmly keeping his gaze forward as he shot through the air, beginning to get the hang of flying as he dodged the various brambles. More than once Roman nearly went headfirst into a spiderweb, skidding to a stop at the last moment. Thankfully he reached the exit on the other side of the forest without becoming prey to any of the shadowy demons. He was relieved that the door still recognized his presence in this form, swinging open wide. Roman wouldn’t have been able to open it himself.

“…woah.” Roman floated inside, momentarily shocked by how unfamiliar his own bedroom looked at this size. He settled down onto his desk, thrown off by the way he had to look up to see the bristled tips of his paintbrushes. How odd.

A knock came at the door, so loud and intimidating that Roman nearly jumped out of his skin. “Kiddo?” Patton’s voice was clearly gentle, but still it rumbled with an unnatural quality. “Do you want to join us for lunch?”

“Ah, no thanks, Pat!” Roman called back, hoping his nerves weren’t heard in his voice.

There was silence, and then another knock. “Kiddo? You in there?”

Oh, of course- an impulse to hit his own forehead overcame Roman. If Patton’s voice was so loud, it only followed that Roman’s voice must be quiet in comparison. He’d have to commit if he wanted to be heard.

“NO THANKS!” Roman called again, this time cupping his hands to his mouth to be heard.

“Oh, okay!” Patton sounded relieved, if not a bit disappointed. Roman deflated slightly, knowing this was another consequence of the curse. He hated letting Patton down. “Well, uh, I’ll check in on you again later!”

He would, of course, the little puffball.

***

Roman tried not to let the knot of guilt twist in him too tight when Patton came back to ask at dinner, then again at breakfast, and a third time at lunch the next day.

This was the longest day of his life. Roman groaned, collapsing back onto his pillow. It only took a few moments for him to realize this was a terrible plan, nearly getting stuck as he sunk into the overly plush surface. Why wasn’t he back to normal yet? It had been 24 hours, hadn’t it?

Patton came back again at dinner. He was more insistent. Roman snapped at him, and it hurt.

What was he meant to do? Roman couldn’t sleep that second night, his wings beginning to twitch anxiously. A curse had never lasted this long before. Should he tell the others?

The new fairy quickly shook his head. No, he couldn’t do that. Going to them meant admitting defeat. He would have to come clean about his rivalry with the Dragon Witch, letting them know of all his countless failures. What would they think of him? What sort of creativity was he if he couldn’t do his one job of keeping Imagination in check? Roman had to protect his family, not the other way around. Besides, he could only imagine the jests he would receive in this form:

“It seems you are incapable of even performing your own tasks adequately-“

“You tried your best, Kiddo, but leave it up to the real sides next time-”

“What’s the matter, Princey? A little thing like you couldn’t possibly help-“

A knock on the door jolted Roman out of his thoughts, the fae rubbing at the wetness on his cheeks. When had he started crying?

“Roman?” That was Logan’s voice, so cool and calculating and pleasant in tone. “We have been sent to retrieve you for breakfast. Are you alright?”

Roman couldn’t even work up the energy to respond. He just let his head loll to the side. Sooner or later the others would learn to leave him alone. Maybe they’d even forget about him… if he was going to be stuck like this, it might be for the best. Roman was useless.

“I can feel the sulking from here.” A third voice muttered, Roman’s sensitive ears picking up Virgil’s annoyed tone. “I say we just break in.”

Roman quickly sat up. What? Them, here? No, they couldn’t see him like this! He flew into the air, eyes scanning for any place he could hide.

“I thought you were against barging into bedrooms?” Logan spoke.

“Nah, just my room. Call me a hypocrite.”

Roman panicked, hearing the doorknob begin to turn. Without hesitation he dashed out of sight, settling onto the top of his wardrobe. Just in time, too, as moments later his fellow sides came barging into the room.

“PRINCEY, GET UP!” Virgil’s volume made the tiny side cringe, Roman pressing his hands firmly to his ears. “…princey?”

“It appears he’s not here.” Logan sated, the two gazing at the bed with conflicting amounts of bewilderment.

“Yeah, thanks, Sherlock.” Virgil’s facial features had turned decidedly blank, trying to process what was right in front of him.

“You do not sound thankful.” Logan murmured.

Virgil ignored his quip, throwing the blanket off the bed. Of course, the entire thing still looked untouched. The anxious side began to run his hands through his hair, seeming conflicted before he rushed back to the door. “PATTON, GET UP HERE!”

There was a frantic pounding of footsteps, Patton clearly running up the stairs before he too appeared in the doorway. “What is it? Is Roman sick?”

“Sick in the head- he’s gone.” Despite his angry words, Virgil looked frantic, and Roman felt far more than a twinge of guilt.

“This is peculiar.” Logan frowned, a hand put to his chin. “The mindscape is only so large. It contains each of our respective spaces and one communal area. Thomas is asleep, so he’s not there, and none of us have seen Roman in over 48 hours. Where could he possibly have gone?”

“Uh…I have an idea.”

The other two sides looked where Patton was pointing, the door to Imagination still ajar.

No! Roman’s eyes widened with fear. The others couldn’t go in there, they’d be killed for sure! Roman had always lied about Imagination, treating it like a magical secret only for him so that they would never know the true misery he faced every day.

“Do you think his realm would grant us access?” Logan took a step closer, making Roman tense up. “I was under the impression that subconscious domains were only accessible by the primary side.”

“Well, the door’s open.” Patton shrugged. “It’s worth a shot, right?”

“Hold on a minute, Pat.” Virgil reached an arm out, grabbing Patton’s forearm. “I don’t like the look of this. Roman’s an idiot-“ Hey! “-but maybe there’s a reason we shouldn’t go in there. We don’t know what it’s like. Maybe we’ll get corrupted just like you guys do in my room.”

For once, Roman was relieved Dark and Brooding was always so cautious. Maybe his friends would be safe after all.

“Virgil, it’s Imagination.” Patton removed Virgil’s hand with a smile, crushing all Roman’s hopes and dreams. “It’s not going to hurt us! I bet it’s got cotton candy clouds and singing flowers and puppies everywhere. “

“I take it back, that’s much worse.” Virgil cringed, but he allowed Patton to take his hand and guide him forward.

“Assumptions will get us nowhere; there is only one way to know for certain.” Logan reached for the handle-

“WAIT!” Roman cried out, his voice shrill and high-pitched as three heads whirling around to meet his terrified expression. Roman gulped, still frightened of their reactions but knowing he had made the right decision. It was better they looked down on him forever if it meant they stayed safe.

Still, having three giants focused on him was nothing to sneeze at- even with all his pomp and circumstance, Roman found himself continuing to huddle against the top of the wardrobe, knowing the jig was up.

“…Roman?” Patton called out, his voice softer than it had ever been. “Is that you?”

Roman winced. “Yeah, it’s… it’s me.”

He was thankful for his high vantage point, but he knew that if the others wanted to get him down it would be an easy enough task. He might be able to fly, but there were three of them for goodness sakes. At this size, a butterfly net could overpower him.

Roman groaned at the imagery, trying to get these thoughts out of his head. Why was he so frightened of the people he loved? Sure they were bigger now- er, he was smaller now- but they still had to care a little bit for him… right? Logan wouldn’t really pin him to a board and Patton wouldn’t really squeeze the life out of him and wow these images really need to stop right now get a GRIP, Princey!

“Are you harmed?” Logan asked, his question surprising the creative side. Logan was often ignorant to other’s state of being.

“Just my pride.” Roman admitted.

Virgil quirked an eyebrow, but it lacked its usual sass. His expression was more shaken than it should be, and the emo looked paler than usual. “Care to tell us what’s going on?”

Not really. Roman wanted to say, but he knew it was too late to back out now.

“Will you come down from there, Kiddo?” Patton took a step forward, cupping his palms and looking ready to catch Roman. He gazed at those hands for a minute, contemplating the risk before he fluttered down to stand in Patton’s palms. This action earned a series of gasps as his wings had previously gone unnoticed.

“It was the Dragon Witch.” Roman admitted, rubbing at his arm self-consciously. “She cursed me to take this form.”

“So, you’ve just been hiding up here all alone?” Patton looked just about ready to cry. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

“I didn’t want you all to think any lesser of me.” Roman ran a hand through his hair. “I know you all think of me as foolish already, and I thought- if you knew how much I failed, that would just be used against me as well. I’m not the protector I pretend to be. I’ve tried to hide this from you because look at me now! A few inches tall and wings on my back like some laughable child cartoon character. I couldn’t stand the mockery on top of everything else.”

“Roman, that is preposterous.” Logan said firmly, earning an elbow to the side from Virgil that didn’t stop the nerd from continuing. “Regardless of your current stature, you are a core element of Thomas’ personality. We require your input. We function best as a cohesive team. Sharing information about your own struggles will only better us as a unit because we will be better equipped to assist you.”

“The nerd’s right.” Virgil rubbed the back of his neck, looking guilty. “Jeez, Princey, I mean… I know we call each other names, but I don’t mean anything by it. I just thought that was our thing. I’m not gonna mock you when you’re clearly hurting, that’d just be cruel.”

“Failure is normal, kiddo.” Patton reached his thumb up, rubbing it comfortingly along Roman’s side. The sensation was strange, but not unpleasant. “Just because you failed once doesn’t mean you’re a failure.”

Roman winced. “Ah, actually, it’s… it’s more than once.” The words began to spill out of him, gaining momentum. “I lose to her so often, she always has the upper hand and it’s never the same curse and I keep hiding them from you but they only last a day and this one hasn’t stopped and I don’t know what to do and I’m going to be tiny and useless forever-“

“OY!” Virgil’s shout made Roman flinch again, and the anxious side had the decency to look sheepish. “…sorry. But you need to cut it out. Panicking is my thing.”

“Roman, it doesn’t matter if you’ve failed a hundred, trillion, billion times.” Patton corrected his wording.

“That’s not statistically possible.” Logan looked confused.

“You will never be a failure in our eyes.” Patton insisted. “You are brave, and kind, and lovable, and you bring so much to the table every single day. We couldn’t do it without you, Kiddo. And even at this size you’re the same amazing Prince we know and love. You’re just… a pocket prince now!”

“Roman, I admit that curses are not my area of expertise.” Logan adjusted his glasses. “But, I believe that with our efforts combined, there is certain to be a way to reverse these effects, especially given the knowledge the previous curses all took time to wear off.”

“Let us help you.” Virgil said, his tone bordering on pleading.

Roman looked around at his family. His fantastic, brilliant, amazing family. How could he have not trusted them with this? Of course they wouldn’t see him as lesser, just because of a small curse. His failures were not what defined him.

“Okay.” Roman agreed, feeling nearly overwhelmed with the love he had for them all.

700 notes · View notes

ladyxxdaydream · 4 years

Note

#5 for the drabble thing? (It was really hard to choose one, I wanted to send them all to you! I love your writing so much!)

#5 wait, are you jealous? – what can I say? sometimes you ask for a drabble and I give you a 1.7k ficlet, turning a typically angsty prompt into fluff, ha! thanks for the inspiration, friend.

★・・・・・★・・・・・★・・・・・★

“Hi, uh, I have a reservation at 7. For Kakashi.”

“Mr. Hatake?”

Kakashi gave a small nod.

“Great. Would you like to wait for the other member of your party to arrive? Or have a seat? We have a table ready.”

“Uh…” Kakashi hesitated, putting his hands in his jacket pockets, unsure. He received a text from Iruka a minute ago, letting him know he was stuck in traffic. Kakashi didn’t know how long Iruka would be yet. “I’ll sit, I guess. ”

“Right this way.”

Kakashi followed her past the bar, past the sleek tables and chairs, which were occasionally offset by a lavishly cushioned circular booth. Kakashi took note of the waiters in their white suit coats, black ties, and black pants. This restaurant was a lot higher class then the ones they usually frequented—Kakashi had to make reservations a month in advance. Not that he minded, it was his third anniversary with Iruka, and he had every intention of spoiling him.

“Here we are,” the hostess said, fanning her hand out.

Kakashi took his seat, eyeing the length of the table—a small candle flickering in the center—before landing on the empty chair across from him.

Too far, he frowned, even though it was less than an arm’s length away.

The hostess handed him a menu.

“Enjoy.”

Kakashi quickly scanned the menu before letting his eyes wander about the room. It was crowded; every table was full. He examined the family of five to his right, wondering if Iruka ever wanted children. Kakashi assumed that he did—Iruka was warm and kind, patient and compassionate, yet he could be strong and stern when he needed to be. Iruka would make the perfect parent, diving in heart first, though his stubbornness could pose a challenge. Kakashi laughed silently to himself at the thought.

Kakashi never thought he’d have children. Nor did he think he’d make a good parent—he was, at times, still cold and reserved. He kept his heart close and guarded, but he was willing to try anything for Iruka; for the man who refused to quit until he had pried Kakashi’s heart from his own hands. They hadn’t had these types of serious conversations yet, but Kakashi knew they were coming. First, though, he needed to tackle moving in together. Kakashi was planning on suggesting it tonight, if he could keep his courage.

The courage all but fizzled out the minute he saw Iruka walking towards him. For some absurd reason, Kakashi felt himself heat up at the sight of him, a light blush coloring his cheeks. How Iruka could still make Kakashi’s stomach turn to knots after three years of dating was a mystery to him.

“Sorry I’m late, traffic was atrocious,” Iruka smiled. “I knew this place was fancy, but I didn’t think I’d have to valet,” Iruka said, his eyes shining with amusement.

Iruka placed a quick kiss to Kakashi’s mouth, his long brown hair falling out from behind his ear to brush against Kakashi’s cheek. “Hi.”

Kakashi smiled in response, waiting for Iruka to settle into his seat. Kakashi knew the minute Iruka’s eyes locked on the menu—

“$145 for a steak?!” Iruka exclaimed. “Oh my god, Kakashi.”

Kakashi laughed, as several heads turned in their direction.

“This is way too much,” Iruka said, lowering his voice, a pained expression on his face, as their waiter approached. “I would have been perfectly happy with—,”

“Could I get you something to start with besides water?”

Iruka’s eyes scanned the menu for something to drink, Kakashi’s eyes were on the waiter, and the waiter’s eyes, well… they wandered over Iruka a little too freely.

“We’ll start with a bottle of Chianti Classico,” Kakashi said.

Iruka spluttered, clearly biting his tongue.

“Perfect. I’ll be back in a moment.”

“Kakashi,” Iruka blurted, the minute the waiter’s back was turned. “Those bottles are like $90…” Iruka said, stress riddling his features.

“Relax, babe,” Kakashi said, attempting to soothe him. Kakashi knew Iruka had insecurities about money, but it was all for naught tonight because Kakashi was paying. “Think of it as a present for tolerating me all these years.”

Iruka raised an eyebrow at him.

“Well, if that’s the case, we should buy one of everything on the menu.”

Kakashi’s mouth fell open in surprise, as Iruka let out a warm laugh.

“I’m teasing. Three years, huh,” Iruka said with a sigh. “Who would have thought one date with Gai would lead me here.”

Iruka and Gai had been matched by a dating app years ago, but halfway through their night, they both knew it wouldn’t work, despite how much they enjoyed each other’s company. Gai seemed to glean enough about Iruka though to loudly exclaim he was the perfect match for his best friend. Gai had been right.

“I’m not surprised,” Kakashi laughed. “Gai’s been responsible for stranger things than us.”

Kakashi observed Iruka in the low light, as his partner gazed at the menu again. He looked stunning in a beige, long-sleeved shirt with a deep v-neck—his chest adorned with three layered gold necklaces, the longest one ending in a pendant. It was a rare occasion for Iruka to wear his hair down, but it was down, in all it’s glory. It never failed to steal Kakashi’s breath away. No wonder their waiter couldn’t resist checking him out.

“You look incredible,” Kakashi said truthfully.

All Iruka could do was blush, before their waiter was back to pour the wine.

“Are you ready to order?”

“I’ll have the spicy king crab with squid ink spaghetti,” Kakashi replied without hesitation.

“Hm. I’m torn between the roasted salmon and the swordfish,” Iruka said, twirling the tip of his hair around his finger. “What would you suggest?” he asked, bringing all of his attention to the focus on the waiter. Iruka’s lashes were so dark, they accentuated his eyes as if he were wearing liner.

God, Iruka was dangerous.

The waiter inched closer to Iruka, probably unaware of his movement. Iruka was magnetic like that. Kakashi knew all too well.

“The salmon. It’s rich and succulent. It all but melts in your mouth,” the waiter said, whose eyes had flicked to Iruka’s lips, making it clear that he’d liked to be acquainted with Iruka’s mouth.

Oh, come on. Kakashi thought, suppressing the urge to roll his eyes.

Iruka remained oblivious to the effect he was having, as always, flashing the waiter a wide genuine smile.

“That sounds wonderful.”

The waiter gave a curt nod, blushing all the way to his ears.

“You’re too far away,” Kakashi said, as soon as the waiter retreated.

Iruka got up and placed his chair beside Kakashi’s, before falling back into it.

“Better?” Iruka asked, their arms brushing against each other now.

“Much,” Kakashi smiled. If that idiot waiter had any doubt whether or not they were together, it would be squashed now. “You know, you’re going to break that poor man’s heart, Iruka,” Kakashi said, with a sinister sense of pride, as he pushed a stray hair behind Iruka’s ear.

Iruka looked at him, confused, just like Kakashi knew he would.

“Our waiter was flirting with you,” Kakashi said, spelling it out for him.

Iruka leaned back to study Kakashi’s face, taking a sip of his wine, before he bit into his bottom lip.

“Wait, are you jealous?” Iruka teased, setting his wine glass back down. “Is that what this was all about?” Iruka asked, knocking his shoulder lightly against Kakashi’s, referring to his sudden request for their new proximity.

“Maybe,” Kakashi drawled, sliding a hand over Iruka’s thigh under the table. “But I also missed you. Do you have any idea how many days this week I’ve wanted to come home to you instead of my empty apartment?”

Iruka placed an elbow on the table, dropping his chin into his palm. He spread his legs a fraction of an inch, just enough to let Kakashi know the game was on.

“No, tell me.”

Kakashi leaned closer to Iruka’s ear.

“Every. Damn. Day,” he said, his fingers grazing Iruka’s cock through his pants.

Iruka turned to hide his face in his hand, letting out a soft pant.

“Let’s move in together.”

Iruka snapped his head up at that, looking at Kakashi with wide, surprised eyes. His other hand had tightly gripped Kakashi’s wrist beneath the table.

“You’re serious?” Iruka asked, softly.

“Yeah. I know you don’t want to live in the city, and I have no problem leaving it. I’m ready for my life to slow down.” Kakashi paused to collect himself. He was doing this. He could do this. He took a hard swallow. “I-I want to slow my life down… with you.”

Iruka’s mouth fell open a bit, still shocked. Kakashi could feel a new heat radiating off his partner’s body. Iruka tugged at his wrist, causing his hand to collide against Iruka’s half hard cock.

Kakashi let out a small, startled sound.

“What can I say? Something about the promise of domesticity turns me on.”

“Shut up,” Kakashi laughed, blushing from a combination of Iruka’s teasing and his own confession a moment ago.

“How’s the”—their waiter stopped to take in their new seating arrangement, as well as the charged air around them—“um, the wine?”

“Oh,” Iruka nervously scratched at his scar while he pulled himself together.

Hn. Kakashi wasn’t going to let him.

“It’s absolutely d…”— Iruka’s breath hitched for a split second as Kakashi rubbed his thumb across Iruka’s growing erection—“d-delicious.”

“Wonderful. Your dinner will be out shortly.”

Iruka fixated his eyes on the tablecloth.

“You are terrible.”

Iruka’s voice came out hard and dark. Kakashi feared he had crossed the line for a second, before Iruka looked up at him, his eyes a blaze. It set Kakashi’s skin on fire.

“Punish me later?”

Kakashi didn’t care if his voice came out breathy and desperate.

“Oh, I will.”

Iruka picked up his wine glass and raised it at Kakashi.

“Happy Anniversary, darling.”

#my fic #my work #kakairu #kakairu fanfic #prompt #hatake kakashi/umino iruka #modern AU

41 notes · View notes

mlmdarkfiction · 5 years

Text

Pride 2019-Drabble 3of4-Stu Macher and Billy Loomis

Stu is the jelly that keeps this pessimist sandwich of a relationship functioning. Also you’re all little shits in your own rights.

Read on AO3

Read Below:

It's Stu's bright idea to go to pride. The month is practically over, no actual celebration from the three of you aside from you and Billy occasionally making fun of the sudden influx of Rainbow Capitalism on twitter. When Stu brings up the idea you and Billy are cuddling on the couch, you tucked under his arm as you both wait on Stu to return with the popcorn.

"So!"

You look at Billy first, he's got a brow raised but looks just as worried about whatever it is Stu's new idea is, and then you finally look over at him from the couch.

He's posed there in the kitchen, one hand on his hips.

"We're gay."

You and Billy just deadpan at each other.

"Yes Stu. We are gay. Good job!"

"No you asshole, that's not what I mean!"

"What does this have to do with the snacks?" You try to add in helpfully, but get ignored by both boys.

"We haven't been to pride."

"So what?"

"Aren't you proud of us Billy?"

Stu is absolutely manipulating the situation for himself. Billy is now quiet, going from glaring at Stu to glancing in your direction.

You hold your hands up in defense. Not wanting to be a part of whatever this is.

To your dismay your popcorn is likely going to be abandoned in the microwave as Stu makes his way to the couch, managing to vault over it to land between you and Billy, partially on the other boys lap, and partially on yours.

He wiggles his way between the two of you. You can practically feel the annoyance radiating off of Billy.

"I'm proud of the two of youuu."

It'd be flattering, and even a little cute, if it wasn't just a ruse to get his way.

"Besides...If there are any protesters we can..." He makes a slashing motion with his free hand.

"There it is!" You get up, snorting, and going to retrieve your forgotten snack.

"What?" Stu counters, standing up to watch you leave.

"You're predictable that's what."

"I'm in."

"What?"

"I said I'll go!"

Literally the next day you're sitting in the front seat of Billy's car, on your way to the town next to Woodsboro for their pride festival. Woodsboro didn't have one itself, and the three of you are lucky to find anyone still having on this far into the month.

Stu see's you in the front seat and starts to make his way too you. You lock the door.

"Hey! Babe, come on! I wanna sit upfront."

"Too bad I got here first."

"Billy! Make him give me the front seat."

"Stop being a baby Stu."

You stick your tongue out at him from the front seat, before making a heart with your hands.

"Besides, the two of you are going to ditch me later to do Ghost Face shit. You can sit in the backseat and behave."

That does the trick, Stu gets into the backseat without complaining any further, but not without wrapping his arms around you from behind the seat, and placing a kiss between your neck and collar bone.

"Are you jealous babe?"

"Die."

"Love you too."

Despite your initial doubt...you enjoy yourself quite a bit. You can tell Billy's enjoying himself too. He's spent most of the time with a hand on your hip, the other tightly gripping Stu's own, keeping him from wandering off too far.

Stu's definitely the ring leader here. You and Billy following your boyfriend around as he wants to see just about everything there is to see.

It's cute. Stu is cute, and you're happy that he's happy.

Multiple times throughout the celebration you and Billy catch one another admiring your boyfriend with love in your eyes.

By the end of it all you're all tired, and hungry. You've managed to convince Stu to give you a piggie back ride, and you're half asleep on his back as the three of you discuss your dinner plans.

"Pizza?"

"...had that yesterday."

"Chinese?"

"Too expensive, and probably closed."

"McDonalds?"

"Ew no."

You whine softly in Stu's ear. You just want to eat and go home and cuddle.

"Okay, okay McDonalds it is you big baby."

You stick your tongue out at Billy from behind Stu.

By the time you have dinner, and make it back home, the boys have all but forgotten about their original murderous intent of the day. Sometimes a good date can just be a good date.

152 notes · View notes

imbumkyung · 5 years

Text

I Saw It In A Movie One Time (ch. 1) - My

(twilight x reader)

Pairing: undecided

Chapter 2

Warnings: none! But this doesnt include the twilight world just yet

Most of her days were being spent like this lately. At home, walk the dogs, help out mom with the house, say she’ll do this and that— but doesn’t. Except on the rare occasions that she does. Thats why even after a whole month of not going out with her friends and ninety percent of her day being spent at home, her room was only getting messier. And honestly, in 2019, cell phone addictions are to blame.

Hours in her room dressing up with nowhere to go, and even more hours on instagram watching how much fun everyone else was having. In truth, it was a hole she dug on her own, rejecting invites and not creating them. She knew she needed to lose weight before going into the military because let’s face it— she can’t succeed in life any other way if education was never going to work out for her. She needed some sort of security for her future and if college wasn’t going to do it, the military would have to. Or at least that’s what her parents told her.

Though she was content, there was the part of her that wished there was some other way. But there wasn’t. She tried a whole dreadful year of college as an art major, and through that year she prioritized anything but school. She prioritized dancing and her social life. It hit her like a car crash that she couldn’t live on like this especially the the angel on her shoulder telling to her make the right decisions or her parents would find out about her antics. So when the car crash happened while she was supposed to be in school— instead she was on her way to get her nails done— it was the last straw for mom and dad.

The only thing that really made her want to stay away from the military was the boy she was talking to earlier in the year. That stupid boy. Long story short, the heartbreak he gave her really made her realize how strong she wanted to be, and let her dad know she wanted to see a recruiter the very next day. A maybe it was impulsive, but definitely rational.

So there she was, in her room at twelve noon, telling her long time friend Soren that she couldn’t hang with him because “her mom was mad at her and won’t let her go out”.

“It’s all good” he texted back.

Kaileia sighed. The only thing she could do was go to the beach, walk her dogs, go to the gym or wish she was as happy as she saw her friends were on instagram. Until her family vacation to California that was to happen in two weeks from now, passing time would be a burden. Deciding she’d soak in a bit of the Hawaii sun before coming back to her room only to be on her phone some more and possibly make some art, she peeled herself off the bed, prepared herself for the day and took her dogs out for a walk.

Besides the stressful pull of the leash her Border Collie– Athena– provided every time she saw another dog, these walks were always peaceful and provided much headspace. Hawaii was a beautiful combination for magnificent islands and Kauai was no exception. The humidity was just right, the sun was warm enough, the waters were usually friendly just as the people were. With so much headspace, her thoughts had everywhere to go.

“The population of Native Hawaiians are going dangerously low—I’m really no exception. I’m not even full Hawaiian. Poi donuts sound great right now. How are my sister and her boyfriend going to handle a long distance relationship? I wonder if if Kai actually likes football. Does he have a girlfriend? Whoever gets my little brother will be so lucky. I wonder if Keiki is doing okay in middle school. Mom has work tonight. Having two jobs and four kids is so stressful. Let’s not forget that Dad is going to school too— for the sole purpose of making money. The military pays him for it.

I wonder what Mark saw in Jennika that he didn’t see in me.

Her expression clouded, not wanting to remember him. They ended on a good note, but upon seeing that he decided to pursue a relationship with her and not him, it hurt her pride. A lot.

Snapping out of it and watching her two dogs happily walking along the beach, tongues out and frolicking about, she smiled. “These two have my whole heart” She thought.

What if life was different? If I had friends who texted me more than once in a blue moon. If I wasn’t on instagram all the time and I was actually out in the world. If I actually had people to shop with— okay maybe not that one. Shopping with other people around is distracting. But still, I wish I was closer with people.

Life right now was lonely for her. Soren’s invitation was one he sent for the first time in 2 months. Not that it’s his fault. She’d turn down his last one because she was too heartbroken by Mark to see anybody.

Nearing halfway through her route, she whipped out her phone to put on Pokémon Go! After all, it’d be a waste to pass all these pokestops even if she wasn’t planning on catching anything at the moment.

It was 1 p.m. and she was back from the walk. The sound of two little girls and a baby filled the house as they ran around pretending to be Elsa and Aurora in their pink and blue dresses.

She took out a mug and began to steep white tea. After a few minutes of this, she boiled 2 eggs, ate a banana, and made toast to put peanut butter on later.

“Going to the gym later?”, her mom, Mahealani questioned, holding the baby on her hip. She ran an at-home day care while working at a restaurant after 5p.m.

Kaileia cast an annoyed look for a quick second before muttering a “yeah”.

Ever since the emotional conversation to her mom about not wanting to pursue college, her mom made sure she knew that the military would be secure, and that she had to go as soon as possible in order to retire early. Mahea wanted the best for her daughter. The idea was always in her air, but Kaileia wanted to try out college first.

3p.m. Go to the gym because mom told you to

4p.m. Just a few more sets and we’ll go home.

Text from: Miko

Hey do you wanna go to Na Pali later? CJ and Li are coming too

Kaileia smiled, she loved that coast and the fish she could swim with that were within 4 feet high of the ocean

Text to: Miko

I’m down what time tho?

Text from: Miko

We’re gonna go at like 6 do u need a ride

Text to: Miko

yeeeee

5p.m.

”Should I take a shower? I just worked out but I’m gonna go in the ocean,” Kaileia asked Miko over the phone

“Just dont wash your hair I guess honestly I dont know,” Miko replied

“Bitch what if I infect the ocean,” Kaileia jokingly exclaimed

“Bitch, I don’t know! The fish will die I guess!” Miko laughed.

“Amazing,” Kaileia deadpanned.

“Oh and Li’s not coming anymore,” Miko mentioned

“Why?”

“I don’t know I think him and his mans are gonna do crackhead things,”

“I’m surprised,” Kaileia said sarcastically

“Same,” Miko said

7p.m.

Kaileia, CJ, and Miko walked in their swimsuits and towels along the coast, finding their usual spot before running right in. The two girls hair flowing behind them in the wind while CJ’s curls bounced with him.

8p.m.

The trio finally walked out of the water, feeling as if gravity was pulling them harder than usual.

Sitting on the towels, Kaileia suddenly asked, “Do you guys ever wish life was different?”

“Shit is it sad girl hours already?” CJ asked, earning a short chuckle from Miko.

“I honestly don’t even know like— the ocean has me feeling some type of way,” Kaileia explained.

“I wish I didnt have a nicotine addiction,” CJ suddenly joked, while taking a hit from his vape. The girls both laughed. “I don’t wanna be gay no more this shit making me stupid I swear” they laughed even harder at his half-assed excuses.

“Shut up hoe you love being gay,” Miko swatted him while taking a hit

“You right though,” he aknowledged

“You guys radiate crackhead energy like 24/7,” Kaileia said

And it was true. Out of the four— Li being absent— Kaileia was the most “normal” one. Not to say she wasn’t as crazy as them, she just was normal at more times than they were.

The rest of the night was filled with vine references, creating tik tocs on the beach, and taking “Hot Girl Summer” beach photos. Though it was dark, Kaileia decided to go for one last swim, taking Miko with her. CJ stayed behind to enjoy the night time coast while the girls ran in. Kaileia ran faster, underestimating the tide as she was already in 4feet deep and still being pulled in as she was deeper now and the wave aggressively towering over her at 7 feet. Stunned, she held her breath and braced herself.

“Kai!” Miko yelled, panicked

The only thing Kaileia heard after that was the gargling sounds of the unforgiving ocean before everything went black.

Tag list : @sunflowerspectre

Heres the first chapter! Before jumping into the Twilight world, I kinda wanted you guys to know the character a little bit. Thank you for reading! Likes, Reblogs, Suggestions / Recommendations & Critiques are appreciated!!

48 notes · View notes

og-lacksubstance-studios · 5 years

Text

Do You Remember? - Part 5

Summary: Can you recall the first time you ever loved someone? Someone who made you challenge yourself and learn all the unexpected feelings? Sometimes you forget, but then the unexpected happens and you find yourself back to the beginning.

The problem was never figuring out how to tell her parents or how to break things off to be with Greg, or even tell Madison and Kennedy. The problems were internal and much deeper than anything Sage could’ve fixed, no matter how much she tried to.

Embry was afraid. She was afraid of the outcome. Of what it would mean for her family and her social life. Is she gay now? Does there even have to be a label? All of it just remained boiling up inside her after that kiss and every kiss after powered her through the next several months to the point where telling anybody did become her biggest issue.

She cheated on Greg. Her parents couldn’t stand to look at her after some of their friends caught her kissing Sage one day at the local park. Everything fell apart because she let Sage consume her existence, but she wouldn’t change a thing.

And she assumed things would be easier when she faced her again, but they weren’t. Sage, in her perfection, radiated confidence within herself; something that always drew Embry into her. It’s what she loved most about her. She never cared to be different or fit in with the stigmas of high school and reality.

“You look amazing,” Sage breaths out, referencing to Embry with her hand as she takes in her full entirety. She doesn’t make it unnoticeable that she allows her eyes to rack from head to toe, checking Embry out like she was the only woman in the room. It sends an instant chill down her spine, something that Sage has always had a habit of doing.

“Yeah, you too,” Embry replies and by this time Greg and Madison have left to give them space. This meeting has been a long time coming for them both, whether it was ever going to happen at all was uncertain, but it needed to for them both.

Sage shifts from one foot to the next, her hands buried into her tight fitted pants. “How have you been?” She asks her confidence dimming with each moment that passes between them.

“I—um, I’ve been good,” Embry says nervously, though she isn’t sure why. It was Sage and admittedly, she’s never been confident, but Sage always brought ease to her that she never found with anyone else, but ten years changes a person, especially when the girl she once loved was standing in front of her. “I opened a gallery in New York. I usually show off unestablished artist’s work in showcases and even have a few of my own pieces on display for potential collectors,” Embry explains with hopes of showing off that she is doing well and doing something that she always promised she’d do; something that wasn’t what her parents wanted.

Sage’s smile grows into a warm yet elated one that is filled with pride and admiration for the girl in front of her. She felt like so much has changed, but in a positive way; the way she hoped for Embry. “Do you love it?”

Embry meets her eyes, truly meets them for the first time since Sage showed back up in her life. “I do,” she tells her truthfully.

YEAR 2008 — 5 MONTHS TILL GRADUATION

Embry walked into school the next day after the pep rally, feeling differently than before and within reason. Sage and her kissed, and she knew it was inevitable because of this intense need to always be in Sage’s presence. The constant feeling of wanting but not feeling that with Greg. She had to know if it was for the reason she thought—that maybe she wanted more from Sage, and sure enough, the feeling was mutual.

When she gets to her locker though, her happiness fades as Greg rests at her locker. Her eyes widen and her heart begins to speed up. Not because she thinks Greg knows about it because she knows he doesn’t, but she cheated on him. That was a hard realization to stomach—she became something she never wanted nor expected to be. She couldn’t face him, not now.

Embry turns on her heel and goes the opposite direction, up the stairs and retreats to the one place she knows she can hide—the darkroom. She pulls it open quickly and shuts it tightly, taking deep breaths to collect her thoughts and mind, when a throat clears behind her.

Embry turns and sees Sage looking up in concern, but unmoved with her camera in hand. “Is everything okay?” Sage finally asks, while Embry continues to stare at her, not speaking, not moving. The whole situation could seem awkward, but it isn’t—more like assessing each other.

Embry sighs finally and walks away from the door, pressing Sage on the stool and taking her camera from her hands to rest it on the table. Embry puts Sage’s hands on her waist and pulls her close to her, pressing her lips hard against Sage’s. Immediately, Sage reacts by pulling her even closer, so she’s flushed against her body. Embry pulls away just enough to nip Sage’s bottom lip, enticing a small moan from the other girl.

“What was that for?” Sage asks, keeping Embry close to her, almost afraid this moment will disappear.

“I panicked,” Embry admits. “I saw Greg at my locker waiting for me and I turned around, and came here.” Embry covers her face with her hands as Sage rubs her sides comfortingly. “I just—,” Embry sniffles and looks at Sage. “I want this. I want you because everything makes sense with you, but I cheated on Greg and my parents will never understand us, and am I gay now? Do I also have to come out or do I just say ‘hey Mom and Dad, just letting you know I dumped Greg. Oh, but by the way! This is my girlfriend!”

Embry takes a deep breath and stares at Sage after her outburst. Most people would instantly leave, especially when Sage really has no reason not to, but she stays, and maybe, in the back of Embry’s mind, she’s staying because this is her domain and she stepped into it, or she just legitimately cares.

“Em, I don’t care if you don’t tell anybody,” Sage finally says softly. “It’s our business what is going on between us, but I don’t want to share you either.” Embry looks at her, fear etching away at her. Could she lose Sage if she never breaks up with Greg?

“I know the confusion of sexuality. Not quite like your situation, but I know what it’s like to question and it’s terrifying because all you want is to just be “normal”.” She quotes to Embry as she explains it. “But if I’ve realized anything about sexuality is that it isn’t black and white. It’s fucking complicated and for that reason, the need for labels is becoming unnecessary,” she tells her, taking Embry’s hands into her own and bringing them to her lips to kiss them softly. “So, let’s just be us. Just be you and if some time down the road this thing between us doesn’t last, you can still be you.”

#do you remember #w/w fiction

2 notes · View notes

bloodpacks-archive · 6 years

Text

Just Like This

Word Count: 1.9K

Summary: Tom knows the reader deserves so much more than him. The reader doesn’t think so.

Warnings: Swearing? Not really anything. It’s just angst and feelin Sad

Note: I feel like I haven’t written in a while? But here u go! This was requested and is based off of Something Just Like This by Coldplay/The Chainsmokers. As said by Lilah this fic “is straight but it’s gay.” So enjoy!

There are a few things that Tom knows for certain in his life. 1. Spider-Man is the best superhero of all time 2. He loves Tessa 3. He loves Y/n L/n and lastly, 4. Y/n deserves so much better than him. It’s a harsh reality that he faces with every moment he spends with his arms wrapped around her or his fingers laced in hers. She is absolutely mesmerizing, with her laugh being his favorite song and she being his favorite work of art. It’s cliche, he knows. To have this idea of her wrapped around his mind in every moment of his being. He figures he should savor it while it lasts. After all, he doesn’t expect someone like her to stay with him. She’s bound to find someone more deserving of such perfection. Bound to find someone who will treat her like he never could. Despite what he’s been given, despite what he’s earned, he’s sure there’s someone out there with more.

He met her in a bookstore, of all places. Picking up the book for a movie he was auditioning for. He figured he should at least get to know the character a little bit. She happened to be in the same section as him. A silent smile painting her face as she read the back of a book. Her hair was messy, and she was wearing a sweatshirt and jeans, but something about her drew Tom to her. That really should have been his first warning, but he was too bold and wanted to talk to this girl too baldly to let the opportunity pass him by. And of course, by some luck of the universe, she was looking at the book he was meaning to buy. He gathered up whatever courage he could find, and talked to her. About the book, about what she was doing in London, and whether she wanted to grab some coffee with him.

And now she’s here, her heels clacking on his hardwood floor and a long royal blue dress trailing her. He’s sitting at the counter, patiently waiting for her to finish thanking her stylists. She’s still incredibly humble. Another quality that makes him much too good for her, he thinks.

She finally walks out, and Tom nearly chokes on the water he was sipping moments before. To be fair, he could hear the heels and knew how the dress looked. And of course he could hear the giggling of her stylists in the room over. But God he never gets used to how beautiful she looks. Even without being done up, even when she’s sitting on the couch with her legs laced with his and one of his shirts on. He’s never quite used to her beauty. She giggles at his reaction, a sound that he wishes he could hear every day for the rest of his life. He just knows it’s not realistic, and he scolds himself for being so utterly in love with this girl.

“Not quite my usual sweatshirt and jeans, huh?” She jokes, leaving Tom to chuckle and shake his head.

“Certainly not, but you’re perfect all the same,” He replies. She laughs again and walks over to him.

“Well, are you ready to go to the premiere?” She asks. Tom sighs before nodding and gets up. As much as he loves the premieres, right now he wants nothing more than to sit with her and watch a stupid comedy in the comfort of their apartment. However, he walks out with her anyway, preparing himself mentally for the cameras and the questions during the ride there.

He wishes he could focus on the questions or the cameras. She is much too captivating to let him do either. No, she is indescribable. Nothing he could ever say could match the way she looks while she smiles at the cameras, or laughs at the interviewers questions or remarks. She answers their questions with an eloquence that he could never match. His blushing face and startling stutters are too often noticed and- he wants her by his side for every moment of it.

He’s not sure what the interviewer says, but suddenly she’s smiling and looking up at him before saying, “Yeah, I’d say we’re pretty happy.” He smiles down at her in response, and he can practically feel the adoration radiating off of him.

“Yeah, I think so too,” Tom says back to the interviewer, who smiles half out of triumph and half out of admiration for the couple.

—————

She had told him she loved him a year ago. It was under unusual circumstances, certainly not how you imagine saying the first ‘I love you’s. He can remember the day so easily, it’s ingrained in his mind, coupled with moments like being casted as spider-man, and holding Paddy for the first time. There was some sort of odd perfection in the moment, one that can’t really be explained by words.

She was sitting on the counter, sipping coffee and wearing his sweatshirt and shorts she had slept in. Tom walked in slowly, knowing that it would be a hard morning with him leaving for filming the next day. It always was, unfortunately.

The day hadn’t started out with them yelling. It was quiet hellos and laughs with smiles and blushing. Somewhere between a laugh and a smile they had both realized that this would be their last morning together for a while. Y/n had something innocent, something about how she couldn’t believe he was already leaving again and how she wished he could stay for longer. Tom, being the dumbass he is, took it the wrong way and said that he couldn’t because of work, immediately getting defensive. Somehow, that devolved into Y/n saying that she wished that she could love him less so that him leaving would hurt less.

Tom was frozen for quite a while after that. Shocked that she loved him, shocked that she wished she could love him less. After a moment, she realized what she said and practically jumped off the counter exclaiming that she didn’t mean it and how she takes it back.

“You don’t love me?” Tom had said after a moment, trying to piece together every bit of conversation he had just witnessed.

“No, god, I love you, Tom. Of course I love you. That’s not what I meant, I-“ Tom had cut her off with a smile and only a few words.

“Well, I love you too.”

—————

He should’ve known this would happen. Really, she was too good for him. Well, he did know this would happen. He just hadn’t expected it to be so soon. But, there he was, watching as some guy eyed her and flirted with her. He made her laugh, of course he did. Tom was sure he was much funnier than Tom could be. He didn’t even know who the guy was, much less why he was at the premiere.

Yet, there Y/n was, perfection personified, talking to a man in a plain suit and laughing with him from across the carpet. Tom walks past them, head low as he attempts to hear what the man was saying.

“Do you wanna grab coffee sometime? I can give you my number,” He says. Tom scoffs under his breath. So damn soon, he thinks.

“Oh, no. I think I'm traveling with Tom for some filming and I don’t really give my number out to strangers. Thank you, though!” And really, Tom realizes he shouldn’t have doubted her. She won’t leave him here, not yet.

“Hey, Tom! I lost you for a bit there,” She says as she comes up behind him. He looks up from his moping and smiles at her.

“Yeah, I got stopped by a reporter. How’re you enjoying the carpet?” He asks. She wraps her arms around his and walks with him, leaning her head towards his.

“Tiring. And these shoes are killing me. I’m ready to watch the movie and go home to cuddle with you,” She says, her smile wide and her eyes bright. Tom leans down and presses a kiss to her forehead before leading her into the theatre.

—————

It’s much later when they leave the premiere. The car ride home is practically silent as he rakes his head for a reason why she wouldn’t have left him by now. Something about the movie, something about watching his character get left for someone better. He wouldn’t be surprised.

It’s when they close the apartment door when the silence is broken. He’s taking off his blazer when he feels her arms slide around his waist, hugging him as her chin rests on his shoulder. He turns around and lets her hands slide up to his shoulders.

“What’s on your mind?” She asks, her voice sweet and her face riddled with concern. Tom looks over her, trying to gauge what she’s thinking.

“It’s nothing, darling. Just, go get into something more comfortable, alright? I know you’d rather be in a sweatshirt right now.” Y/n lays her head onto his shoulder, and he prides himself just a bit that she’s taking comfort in him.

“You’re right, but I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s been on your mind tonight,” She replies. Tom sighs and looks at her, the girl he’s so completely and utterly in love with that he can’t bear to let her live a life where she doesn’t get every moment of love she deserves. He tells her, because really he can’t lie to her. She always knows what’s wrong with him. Too observant for his own good and too caring to let any of it go.

“You deserve… so much better than me,” He whispers. Y/n looks up at him, eyebrows furrowed and her mouth slightly open, like she wants to say something. “I can’t love you every moment, I’m gone too much and I know you can’t be with me every step of the way. You’re amazing, and I don’t want to hold you back or make you think you have to stay here with me.”

“Tom-“

“No, Y/n. I don’t want you to argue with me here. You’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met. You deserve to have someone who can treat you like that every moment of your life. Not someone who has to leave every few months to go play pretend on a big screen,” Tom finishes his thoughts, and finally takes another look at her. She’s shaking her head, tears just dotting the corners of her eyes.

“Tom, I don’t want that. I don’t need someone who caters every moment to me or falls at my feet. I want something just like this. With you. I need you, being stubborn and arguing with me over something stupid like if Spider-Man is better than Robin. I need to hear your laugh in the other room. I want to hear you crying over something a fan sent you because it touched your heart and made you want nothing more than to keep doing what you’re doing,” She takes a breath and looks and him. He’s smiling, his hands found his way to hers at some point, and he's playing with her fingers.

“This? Being with you? Tom, that’s all I need.” He lets a breath shake out of him, it’s less of a laugh and more relief. She smiles at him, bringing her hand up to push a curl out of his face. “I love you,” She whispers. Tom lets another breath escape him, choppy and short.

“I love you too. And, just so you know. I want something just like this. Always and only with you.”

#tom holland imagine #tom holland #tom holland drabble #tom holland x reader #tom holland blurb #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x you #peter parker x reader #peter parker #peter parker x you #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker imagine #peter parker blurb #spider-man homecoming #spider-man fanfiction #spider-man x reader

436 notes · View notes

exo-x-o-l-o-v-e · 6 years

Text

Strawberries & Cigarettes Pt. 1

Chanyeol x male!reader

Genre: Fluff, a bit of angst

I was always captivated by his smile. From the first moment I saw him his smile had this way of making me forget everything else and just get lost in the moment.

I fell in love with his smile in our second year of middle school. I saw him during lunch one day as I was walking to where my friend, Namjoon, and I usually sat.

His friend accidentally bumped into me, the guy apologized and I was telling him it was okay when he ran up yelling happily and swung his arm over smaller boy’s shoulders. My heart stopped the second I looked at him. His smile was wide and goofy but he radiated such pure happiness that it dazed me. My mind got hazy and the next thing I knew the boy in front of me grumbled an apology about him, who he referred to as “Chanyeol”, and walked off with said boy trailing after him like a hyperactive puppy.

Much to my shitty luck, Namjoon witnessed the entire thing. “Who was that?” Namjoon asked with an obviously fake casual tone. I shrugged as I replied, “No clue, the guy just bumped into me.”.

“I meant the one you were gawking at.” he said with a shit eating grin.

“Fuck off, I wasn’t staring.” I responded and started to eat.

“You were definitely staring, lover boy. Come on, what’s his name?” he pressed on as he continued to eat too.

“You’re such a dick. His friend called him ‘Chanyeol’ or something, I don't know.” I answered, hoping that Namjoon wouldn’t see my cheeks getting hot.

He tried to start teasing me again but he accidentally knocked his drink off the table.

“Really!” He sighed in exasperation.

He had a weird knack for destroying anything and everything he came in contact with, so a couple people snickered at Namjoon's usual clumsiness, as I went to go get the cleaning supplies with a sigh of relief.

From that day forward I always looked for that kid with the bright smile. I even swallowed my pride and asked a couple classmates about him. I learned his name was Park Chanyeol, he was in class 2-C, he liked singing and playing guitar, he was trying to start a band, and he was either described as really cool and friendly or loud and obnoxious. Namjoon gave me endless shit once he found out I asked our classmates about Chanyeol and noticed I would go out of my way just to be able to look at him from afar.

The more I watched him from afar the more I began to notice everything else about his appearance. He had these really cute elf-like ears that poked out (despite his attempt at hiding them under his long hair), he was a little taller than some of our classmates, still had his babyfat, and had really nice dark eyes that sparkled with life.

I didn’t know why I wanted to see him all the time or why his smile made my heart race or what I was feeling, but all I knew was I wanted him to keep smiling.

Eventually Namjoon started trying to talk me into going up to him and introducing myself, which obviously I didn’t do. What was I supposed to say? We had only kinda met once when his friend bumped into me a month or two ago. It was far too late to introduce myself to him now.

“I don’t want to study, Joon!” I groaned as he pulled me along by my hand towards the library.

“Your mom isn't going to let us hang out after school if you continue to suck at math!” Namjoon scolded me.

��We can't all be in the top 1% like you, dork.” I said back with a smile just to see him get more annoyed. But someone interrupted him before he could respond.

“Faggots!” we heard some guy yell.

Namjoon must have felt me stiffen with anger, he held my hand softer, and we continued walking.

“Why don’t you leave, perverts!” another guy, probably the first boy’s friend, shouted.

We continued ignoring them. We were use to it at this point, it still made us angry, but we were okay at ignoring it. People said stuff like that all the time. People acted like this towards us because I’m gay. I came out last year, and because Joon was still friends with me afterwards he was made fun of too.

“Yah! Didn’t you hear us, fags?” the first guy yelled at us again, his voice getting closer.

My free hand balled into a tight fist, I was getting angrier by the second, but Namjoon kept walking away from the guys following us. He was the more even tempered of us two, he stayed calm and cool when people did this, while I tended to get angry or cry.

“Do you want to die, homo?” his friend grabbed my shoulder hard and jerked me back.

I yanked my hand out of Namjoon’s grasp as I threw my fist at that boy’s face. My punch hit him with so much unexpected force that he fell to the ground. There was a flash of shock on both of their faces, Namjoon instantly was by my side, his arm in front of me protectively. The boy still standing stalked towards me, his arm pulled back as he prepared to throw a punch. Namjoon jumped in front of me, taking the hit intended for me before pushing him down. The one I had punched got to his feet and everything became a blur of punches and trying to protect each other. Somehow the guy I decked got me on the ground, he kept hitting my face over and over, until he was thrown off of me. I looked to my left expecting to see my best friend but instead there stood Park Chanyeol yelling at the guy to get lost. He knelt down next to me with that stunning smile aimed at me and his hand outstretched towards me. My heart skipped a beat then dropped. Where was Namjoon? Was he hurt?

“Joon!” I yelled past him panicked as he helped me up.

I may have been dying for the chance to talk to Chanyeol, but my best friend and his well being was always my top priority.

“He’s alright, Kyungsoo is helping him right now.” Chanyeol said in a soft, comforting tone.

“Is he hurt!? Oh my god this is all my fault.” I said still shaken with worry.

“(Y/N)! Are you okay? Oh my god I’m so sorry I couldn’t get to you but that guy-” Namjoon rambled as he ran to me.

“Joon, forget about that! Look at you! I’m so so sorry! It’s all my fault! I’m so sorry, Joon!” I gently prodded the bruise already starting to form near the side of his eye, guilt resting in my stomach.

“It’s not your fault, it’s those guys fault. And don’t worry about me. What about you! Your cheek is bleeding.” He said gently wiping my cheek with his jacket sleeve.

“It’s sweet you two aren’t ashamed of your relationship.” Kyungsoo said, both of us freezing in shock at his words.

“You’re a cute couple.” Chanyeol added happily.

“We're not together! We're just friends, like brothers!” Namjoon explained flustered, our hands quickly retracting from each other's faces.

“Oh I’m sorry, we just assumed.” Kyungsoo apologized politely.

“But aren’t you two gay? Everyone says you’re gay.” Chanyeol blurted out, his head cocked to the side in confusion. Kyungsoo tried to subtly elbow him in the side, but he yelped in pain.

“Uh I’m not, technically. Everyone thinks we’re together but we’re not.” Namjoon responded, scratching behind his ear.

“I’m gay, but yeah, we’re not dating.” I said with an awkward chuckle. Chanyeol perked up a little.

“Really? Alright, cool.” He smiled at us.

There was an awkward pause, but Namjoon came in to save the day as always.

“Hey, we gotta go clean up these cuts and stuff, but thanks for your help. It meant alot.” Namjoon told them, his cool charismatic grin making an appearance as well.

“We just don’t like how people treat gays badly, so it was nothing.” Kyungsoo responded, I could tell he wasn’t use to socializing like this but was trying really hard to show his sincerity.

We nodded with smiles, getting our bags off the ground, and beginning to walk to my house. Namjoon once again taking my hand in his.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Namjoon asked me.

“Yeah I am, I’m more worried about you though-” I was saying when we were interrupted yet again.

“Hey, hang out with us from now on!” we heard Chanyeol happily scream behind us.

“We’re like 5 meters away. Why is he yelling so loud?” Namjoon asked rhetorically in slight annoyance.

“No idea, but I do admire his enthusiasm.” I responded with a small smile.

“He’s like an anime character. Loud, kinda dumb, and he has a shy dork who has a crush on him but is too scared to do shit but stalk him. He’s basically Naruto, but with yoda ears.” Joon said matter-of-factly, pulling the tips of his ears so they stuck out more. I knew he was trying to bait me but I couldn’t stop myself.

“Yah! He’s not stupid! He was just confused! And I don’t stalk him! I just like his smile. And his ears are like elf ears not like Yoda’s you dick!” I shot back, my cheeks starting to get warmer.

We continued our back and forth banter until we got back to my house. I got an ice pack ready, while Namjoon got the first aid kit in the bathroom. I went to Namjoon, we talked and laughed about whatever came up, and I gently pressed the ice pack to the now dark purple bruise on his left eye. The rubbing alcohol stung the cut on my cheek, and soon Namjoon was putting the bandage over the wound.

“We’re sitting with them tomorrow.” he said out of nowhere. I could tell by his set expression it would be useless arguing with him.

The next day was no different than any other day for us. That is until lunch when Joon dragged me towards Kyungsoo and Chanyeol.

“You bitch.” I whisper yelled at him.

“If you’re not gonna take the lead then I’m doing it for you. And they did help us out yesterday.” he whispered back.

“Hey, we saved you seats.” Kyungsoo greeted us happily.

“You guys came! I was worried you wouldn’t sit with us!” Chanyeol laughed, his wide smile making my heart flutter.

“Thanks Kyungsoo, and you shouldn’t worry. Especially after yesterday.” Namjoon responded to both boys, setting his tray down.

“Yeah, man. Why wouldn’t we hang out with you guys.” I added, beginning to eat.

Soon we became close friends with Chanyeol and Kyungsoo. At first we just ate together at lunch then we gradually started to hang out after school and eventually we hung out every day.

At first it kinda baffled me that Chanyeol and Kyungsoo were best friends at first. Kyungsoo was quiet, more thoughtful, and definitely more introverted than Chanyeol who was known to be loud and energetic. But the more we got to know them the more we saw how similar and compatible they were.

Kyungsoo loved anime, enjoyed cooking, and he was an amazing singer. Chanyeol loved anime too, he danced, and loved playing guitar and piano. Both of them didn’t like school, but Kyungsoo made them study and get at least decent grades. In their free time they learned songs together. Kyungsoo would sing while Chanyeol played piano or guitar. Kyungsoo wanted to become a singer, and Chanyeol wanted to become an artist as well. I learned he didn't know what he wanted to do specifically, all he knew was that wanted to work in the music industry alongside Kyungsoo.

Becoming friends with them was the best and the worst thing at the time. I got two new amazing friends that I enjoyed being around. I got to know more about Chanyeol, and spend a lot of time with him, but that also meant my complicated feelings for him increased and I had to try harder and harder to hide them.

We were at my house studying one day. We had an exam soon so we decided to study together in preparation for it. Two hours in Chanyeol began complaining, draping himself over Kyungsoo, who ignored him. This was a common occurrence. Chanyeol was very affectionate with Kyungsoo and enjoyed picking on him. He almost always was making some sort of contact with Kyungsoo, whether it was having his arm draped over the other’s shoulder or leaning on him or occasionally holding his hand in private.

Namjoon shot me a sympathetic look. I just tried focusing on my notes and textbook, but that stabbing pain in my heart stayed. I knew Chanyeol was straight but that didn’t stop me from feeling sad and jealous when he was affectionate with Kyungsoo. I tried to ignore the heartache, but it never went away. Every Time I saw him touch Kyungsoo I wondered what it would be like if he wrapped his arm around me or how his hand would feel in mine. I knew I liked boys, but this was the first time I wanted to hold someone’s hand and go on a date with them.

“Yah! (Y/N)! You’re getting bored with studying too, right? We should definitely take a break.” he said energetically, his toothy grin making me weak.

“We should.” I instantly gave into him, as usual.

“You’re just trying to get out of studying, stupid.” Kyungsoo said irritated with Chanyeol, flicking the edge of his ear.

“Soo, don’t be that way.” he cooed in response, rubbing the now red tip of his ear.

My stomach turned seeing how gently he always talked to and treated the smaller boy no matter how rough or mean he was to him.

“It’s not that late, maybe we can go get some snacks.” Namjoon suggested, turning their attention away from each other to him.

I gave him a look to silently thank him. We began packing our supplies away, and getting ready to leave. Namjoon patted me on the back, from the look in his eyes I knew he was gonna try to talk to me about this later. Then we all headed out of my room.

“You haven’t played Pokemon Gold or Silver?!” I shouted incredulously, wiping the crumbs away from the sides of my lips.

“I just haven’t! Is it that bad I haven’t!” Chanyeol shot back, opening another red bean paste bun.

“Yeah! It's the best! You're gonna play it. It's my duty as your friend to make sure you play this masterpiece.” I said firmly, taking another bite of my bun.

“Masterpiece? The character you play is like 10 pixels.” Joon teased me.

He lightly hit my bun into my face as I went to take a bite. The three boys began to laugh, I pushed Namjoon lightly, trying to clean off as much as I could.

“You shouldn't do that, Namjoon.” Kyungsoo gently scolded Namjoon, I was about to say thank you and send Joon a smug look when he continued with a heart shaped smile, “You shouldn't waste food like that.”

“Kyungsoo… I trusted you… How could you betray me like this!” I cried in mock sadness.

“Trusting me was your fault! Anyways I gotta head home now.” He said through laughter.

Chanyeol began to groan and beg him to stay out with us longer. Namjoon and I were laughing at how childish he looked, practically on his knees begging Kyungsoo who was fuming.

“I gotta go too. My dad wants me home early tonight.” Namjoon said suddenly.

“Oh, alright. Let's go then.” I responded, beginning to put my last red bean paste bun in my bag for later.

“No! It's fine! You and Chanyeol can stay out longer!” He said with a smile, but his eyes were screaming at me.

“Yeah! Chanyeol! Why don't we hang out longer?” I asked nervously, finally understanding what Namjoon was trying to do.

My hands were getting kinda moist, I felt scared but also hopeful and excited. Just the thought of spending time alone with Chanyeol made my heart go crazy.

“Definitely! At least I have one friend that cherishes me!” Chanyeol cheered as he threw his arm around my shoulders.

My heart started beating faster than it ever did before, my face felt so hot like it was on fire, and my hands began to get incredibly clammy.

I couldn't even utter a single word when we separated from Namjoon and Kyungsoo. It felt as if my brain short circuited, all I could focus on was how nice it felt to have his arm around me. He was warm and comforting, and, oh god, when he turned smiling at me. I had never felt this type of happiness before. Sure I felt really happy when I was with Namjoon, or when my parents told me that they still supported and loved me when I came out. But it was something about his smile, his arm around me, and just his presence that felt so exhilarating.

It felt like I was in a drama or a shoujo manga. We went to an arcade, played games til we ran out of coins, then we went to a park and talked about anything and everything. The whole time his smile and attention were directed at only me. It made me feel special like the protagonists in romance mangas.

We were sitting shoulder to shoulder on a park bench.

“What’s it like?” Chanyeol said vaguely. Much to my confusion.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“To be gay?” he elaborated.

“It’s no different than being straight except some people are cruel because of it.” I answered him, fidgeting with the sides of my pant legs.

“How do you know?” he questioned naively.

“I don't really know. I just kinda noticed I didn't see girls the way other guys did. That I didn't have those feelings towards girls.” I explained as best as I could.

“Do you have feelings for Namjoon?” he asked turning towards me instantaneously.

For once there was no smile on his face, his expression somber and stern.

“No, I don't. I've never had feelings for Namjoon like that.” I answered honestly, looking him directly in the eyes.

“Do you have feelings for someone else then?” he questioned me further.

“I… Well.. I… I do have feelings for a guy.” my voice wavered as I responded.

“Who?” He snapped at me.

It wasn't like him to act this way. Chanyeol was usually goofy and hyper, not serious and assertive.

Panic suddenly seized my heart. I stumbled over my own incomprehensible words. I tried avoiding his gaze, gripping my pant leg so hard my knuckles turned white. I felt a smoldering knot form in my throat, I didn't want to tell him. It hurt so much just thinking about how disgusted he'll be if I told him how I felt. The thought of him looking at me the way others did at school and saying the awful things they said terrified me to the core.

“Tell me!” Chanyeol demanded, the volume of his voice making me flinch.

That's when tears began to pour down my face.

“It's you! I like you!” I yelled back through my tears.

Suddenly he grabbed the sides of my face and his lips were on mine. As quickly as it happened it ended, and I was pulled into an embrace.

“I think… I… I like… like you a lot.” He stuttered out, burying his face in the crook of my neck.

“I'm gay too.” He confessed softly, then I felt tears wet my neck and shoulder.

I wrapped my arms around him, rubbing his back, and comforted him as he continued to cry. I murmured words of reassurance as I stroked his hair trying to soothe him.

“From the moment I saw your smile I thought you were the most amazing person ever. You took my breath away. I can't really explain it, but your smile makes my heart go wild. Then when I got to know you my feelings for you got stronger. I want to go on dates with you and hold your hand and take care of you. Chanyeol, I like you so much. Everything about you is amazing.” I mumbled, pressing kisses to his head in between words.

On that cold night, underneath the moon, I held him until he calmed down and I wiped away his tears. No words were spoken as we got up and began to walk to home together. He merely slipped his hand into mine. His tight grip said all the words that were left unspoken that night.

Neither of us uttered a word until we got to the front door of my house.

I turned to face him trying to figure out what I should say when he kissed me again. My heart fluttered feeling his lips press so gently against my own.

“I'll see you tomorrow.” He said with a blush, walking away. Leaving me with an equally red blush and a warm feeling in my soul.

A/N: Part 2 is coming soon! This fic was inspired by and named after Troye Sivan’s song on the Love, Simon soundtrack. I highly recommend it!

#chanyeol scenario #chanyeol x reader #chanyeol x male reader #chanyeol x male!reader #chanyeol fanfic #chanyeol angst #chanyeol fluff #exo scenarios #exo reader insert #exo angst #exo fluff

79 notes · View notes