#i just feel stupid. but i've kept myself at an arm's length so that's on me

[standfucker]

Hello!! I've been thinking about an AFAB reader in the straw hat crew who dresses as a man. Short hair and masculine clothes that cover her up. She doesn't want people treating her differently or going easy on her in fights because of her gender hence her constant charade. Because of this the crew doesn't know that she is actually woman. I'd like to request drabbles of how Zoro, Sanji, And Luffy would react when finding out and where they would. Also, SFW please!

This was fun! ^^ Thanks for submitting a request! I tried to keep these a consistent length and failed. Each one ended up longer than the last... I'll have to keep trying harder to pace myself.

Discovering Your Secret - Monster Trio

CW: chest binding, canon-typical violence, injury (not described in detail), gun violence, battle trauma, nudity, awkwardness

Luffy

Group bathing was one bonding activity on the Sunny that you had to miss out on. Shyness wasn’t like you, but the guys chalked it up to a weird personality quirk and long since stopped questioning it. Some people liked their privacy, no big deal. Really, it was never a problem until Luffy barged into the bathroom one day while you were soaking, the door swinging open so hard it bounced back shut behind him.

You tried to shout that the bathroom was occupied, but it was drowned out by Luffy’s own yell of “GUM GUM CANNONBALL!” The next thing you knew, Luffy had somehow launched himself out of his clothes and into the tub, making a massive splash that took out half the water. It was only by sheer luck that he didn’t collide with you. 

Instantly you sank down low into the remaining water so only your head was above the surface. The clear water offered no protection, however, so you had to cover your chest and cross your legs. Embarrassment and panicky fear were rotten feelings to have when you had just gotten relaxed, and you found yourself getting angry on top of it all. This was such a stupid way to be found out, and it was only because your captain lacked any self-awareness.

Luffy came up with a laugh, then opened his eyes and blinked at you for a second. “Oh, hey!” he said, oblivious to your stress. “I didn’t know you were in here! Robin told me she just drew a bath, so I came in. Didn’t hear the rest of what she said–I guess she drew it for you! Shi shi shi.”

You stared at him, open-mouthed, too stunned to speak right away.

Luffy’s brows raised when you didn’t respond. “Oh, that’s right, you don’t like to bathe with others. Sorry!” “Luffy?” you tried, but he kept talking.

”Well, I’m here now, so we might as well share! We can wash each other’s backs.”

”Luffy.”

”What are you so shy for, anyway? You look fine to me.”

”Luffy!” you snapped.

”What?”

”Get out!”

”But I’m already wet!” he complained, and you mentally screamed at his stubbornness.

”Then I’ll get out! But you have to look away!” you barely managed to keep from yelling at him, trying not to lose your cool lest he get suspicious.

Luffy pursed his lips. “Fine, sheesh. I won’t look.”

He turned his head away. You hesitated, then quickly stood up and made to leave. You took one step onto the tub–and immediately slipped, thanks to the water Luffy splashed there a moment ago. A yelp left you as you fell fast.

”Y/N!” Right before you hit the tub, Luffy’s arms shot out and wrapped around you, pulling you safely back inside. “That was close!”

You froze in place, heart in your throat both from the fall and from your new position. Luffy’s arms were wrapped around your torso. He could clearly feel your chest against his rubbery arms. You gaped at him, wide-eyed in shock. Luffy smiled. Then he squeezed you again and frowned. Slowly, he looked down at your chest, then down even further.

”WHAT?!” Luffy yelled in shock, his eyes bugging out. “Y/N got attacked by Iva?! But when did you meet him?!”

You facepalmed hard.You’d heard about Ivankov through Luffy’s stories, so you had an idea of what he was talking about. But he missed the mark so hard it was astonishing.

Luffy quickly unwound his arms from around you and covered his face, stammering. “I’m sorry, Y/N! I had no idea!”  

Even though your own face was hot, you couldn’t help but start to laugh, though it was a bit nervous. As you carefully exited the tub, toweling off and pulling on a robe, you contemplated letting Luffy go on believing you were attacked by Iva. But then you would have to make up a story about meeting him, and lying to your bright-eyed captain seemed wrong. He meant well, after all.

Maybe this whole charade was unfair to him. Luffy couldn’t hold onto a secret to save his life anyway, so once he knew, the whole crew would know too. Still…though it would be a big change for you, it would be one less thing to worry about…

You draped your towel along the edge of the tub and perched on it, crossing your arms. “What did we learn about respecting people’s privacy?”

”I’m sorry,” Luffy said, peeking through his fingers before lowering his hands. “I didn’t know you had a reason…I won’t do it again! But when did you cross paths with Iva? During the two years I was away?”

”No, Luffy. I’ve never met Ivankov.” You took a deep breath, steeling yourself. “I’ve been a girl this whole time. I was just pretending to be male.”

”Whaaat!? Really?” Luffy’s eyes bugged out at you again. “But why?”

You did your best to explain your reasons. Luffy only seemed to grow more confused as you went on, crossing his arms and tilting his head.

”I don’t get it. Nami and Robin are strong,” he said.

“Never said they weren’t,” you replied patiently. “But Nami and Robin get underestimated constantly. Maybe they’re used to it, but I can’t stomach the idea. It’s insulting.”

“Hmm…” Luffy thought for a second. “Does this mean we can’t wrestle anymore?”

“Of course we can! The whole point is that I don’t want you to treat me differently!”

“Oh… Oh! I see!” Luffy said, his eyes lighting up with realization. “Okay then! I’ll whoop your butt like normal!”

A warm feeling filled your chest, and you smiled. Now he was catching on, and he didn’t seem to mind. The relief was almost dizzying.

You asked Luffy to try to keep it a secret for now.

He lasted about three weeks, until he asked you one day, point-blank in front of the others: “Hey, Y/N? Where do your boobs go when you get dressed?”

Zoro

“Behind you!”

Zoro’s shout made you whirl around, raising your weapon, but your opponent was already on the downswing. Their sword cut your chest open from clavicle to rib. Pain sizzled out from the gash, hot and burning, but in addition to that, you could feel that your binder was damaged, freeing your breasts. You grit your teeth through the pain and managed to strike your foe down. Then you hunched over yourself, arms crossed over your chest, quivering. The warm blood on your arms told you this one might be serious, but despite the wound, all that was on your mind was getting found out.

Zoro rushed to your side, mowing down foes as he went until he was there. “Did they get you? Let me see.” But you shook your head. “Let me see!” he insisted, an edge of panic to his voice as blood dripped onto the ground below you.

You looked up at him with visible fear, which he misunderstood. “You’re going to be okay, but you have got to let me see.”

Shaking, you lowered your arms, revealing your wound and your secret all at once.

Zoro’s eyes widened, momentarily speechless. Then he snapped out of it, hurriedly taking off his shirt and wrapping it around your torso. He picked you up, one arm supporting your bottom while the other tucked you against his chest to hide your front. You pressed your face into his shoulder, discomposed from the shock of the injury and from the sudden reveal.

What would he think of you now? All the times you arm wrestled, all the times you sparred, all the drinking contests and shared conversations and shared fights–would you never experience them again? You kept asking yourself those questions as Zoro took you out of the slowing battle.

Chopper was shocked, but promised to keep your secret. However, after he found out that you’d been binding your chest with bandages almost 24-7, he scolded you harshly, going on about how you could permanently damage your body.

At your request, Zoro’s the only one Chopper let visit you in the ship’s infirmary. For a while, Zoro didn’t say anything, just stared at your bandaged chest with an unreadable expression.

“I wanted you to respect me,” you said, breaking the silence. He didn’t respond. “I could never be your equal otherwise. Please understand.”

Zoro looked down at you and gave a heavy sigh, eyes distant for a moment. “...You remind me of someone I used to know.” He sat on the edge of your bed, some softness to his gaze now. “I get it. I get why you hid this. But you’re an idiot.”

”I know. I let myself get hurt.”

”No, dummy. Because you treated the crew like we wouldn’t understand. You didn’t trust us. It makes sense in the beginning, but after all these years?” He frowned at you, and you realize that deep down, he was hurt.

”I didn’t want anything to change between us.” You looked away, ashamed. “Between you and me.”

”It doesn’t have to.”

”You don’t like to fight women.”

Zoro grimaced at the accusation, knowing you’re right. The infirmary was quiet for a minute.

”I’m sorry,” Zoro finally said. “I’ll…I’ll do better. Nothing has to change.” He paused, and offered up a smirk. “After all, I go easy on you anyways.”

You feel yourself tear up at his acceptance, and grinned back at him. “Once I heal up, I’ll make you regret that.” You paused, face falling. “You won’t tell anyone, right? I don’t want Sanji to…you know.”

“Yeah.” Zoro made a face at the cook’s name. ”It’ll stay between the three of us,” he promised. “I still think you should tell them, but it’s not my secret to share.”

”Maybe in time. I’ll have to think about it,” you said, and he nodded.

Zoro held out his hand. You clasped it in a big swing, grimacing when it made your wound sting, and squeezed as tightly as you could.

“You don’t have to prove anything to me,” Zoro said, squeezing back. “Okay? We’re still buds.”

”Okay.” Again, you felt the tears threatening to spill.

”But if you cry, I’ll make fun of you.”

”Shut up!”

Once Zoro realizes you were hindered by the binder for all of your matches against him, he got fired up. All the times he won, you had a handicap–it wasn’t a fair match, he decided. However, there wasn’t really a place on the ship where you could take it off in front of others, so he was forced to remain undecided on the topic of which one of you is stronger.

It wasn’t until you revealed your secret to the others that you and Zoro finally got to have a proper, no-holds-barred sparring session. True to his word, he didn’t hold back, too battle-hungry to care if he touched your chest when you wrestled or exchanged blows. (Sanji snarled in the background, but neither of you were paying him any attention.)

As it turned out, when you let your aching ribs heal and could breathe properly, you were far better than you were before. You ended up almost defeating the swordsman, and he was so proud of you that he threw an arm around your shoulders and noogied your head until you were certain he left track marks in your skull. “That’s my girl!”

Sanji

The impact of your sword against your opponent’s knocked the weapons out of the both of your hands. Undeterred, you dashed forward to take them on barehanded, confident in your unarmed strength. Right as you reached them, they drew a hidden flintlock from their back belt, and touched the muzzle to your forehead.

You froze. The battlefield seemed to fade away, nothing solid or corporeal except for the gun to your head. You couldn’t hear anything but the blood rushing in your ears, feel anything but the cold steel pressed to your skull. Everything rushed through your head in one synaptic burst, a thousand million thoughts of how soon, how final this was. All the years of adventure, ending here. One slip-up. You were going to die.

You couldn’t even feel regret. Just the sensation of your heart beating as if it was in every blood vessel. You didn’t hear the call of your name, nor the shouted “Diable Jambe!”

In the time it took for your opponent to squeeze his trigger finger, Sanji appeared seemingly out of nowhere and kicked the guy’s hand so hard you saw it break. The gun fired into the ground a few feet away from you, and with another burning kick, Sanji knocked him out.

You were in shock, standing there unharmed, but useless. Sanji took notice, calling for you again. When you didn’t respond, he rushed to you and grabbed your shoulders, shaking you hard. “Get it together! We still need you!”

Suddenly the sound, the sensation, everything came rushing back, hitting you all at once. You blinked, glanced at the surrounding battle, then at Sanji’s tense expression.

“Y/N!”

“I’m okay!” you said. “T-Thanks. I’m okay.” With that, you rushed for your fallen sword, ready to rejoin the battle.

It wasn’t your first brush with death, but this one rattled you worse than the others. After the battle you dwelled on it constantly, thinking back to that moment and breaking out into a cold sweat even though you’d just cleaned up. You couldn’t think about anything else, focus on anything going on around you. You skipped dinner, stomach too upset to eat, and were barely able to sleep despite your exhaustion from the day’s battle. You skipped breakfast the following day, and only around lunchtime did your mind seem to catch up to your body. You watched Luffy and the crew mess around, playing and laughing and arguing, and suddenly you realized that you almost lost this forever. Immediately, the urge to cry overtook you with tremendous force. You hurried through the ship’s interior, shoved yourself into a corner, and sobbed into your hands.

Dead. Oh god, you were almost dead. How was it that easy? All the strength you had worked so hard to build, meaningless. How could you have been so overconfident? How could you have let yourself lose so easily? Had Sanji not been there, you would have been gone. Gone.

The tears ran hot down your cheeks, and you bit your tongue to keep from being loud. It could have gone so much worse. Sanji was dependable, but tended to keep his eye on the girls during fights. He only saved you because you were close by. It was sheer luck that he saved you. Only luck.

“Y/N!”

Sanji’s call of your name made you go quiet. You resisted the urge to sniffle, even as your nose ran. If he found you…it wouldn’t be the end of the world, but you’d rather not be caught crying. You spent years building the image of the stoic, masculine fighter, and would prefer to keep up that appearance. Sanji called you again, closer this time, and you cleared your throat.

“Yeah?” you called out.

“Lunch is ready, so hurry on down,” he announced from the doorway, just out of your vision.

It took you a minute to gather yourself, but after washing your face and regulating your breathing, you were ready to rejoin the group once more.

In the weeks following, you dealt with your shock and processed it the best that you could. Eventually you started sleeping better again, your appetite returned, and life seemed to go on as normal…except for one thing: Sanji. He started acting strangely when he was nearby.

It started off small. He was far more pleasant around you than he normally was. Not that you and Sanji held animosity toward each other, but usually he treated you like another male: friendly enough if you weren’t Zoro, but not to this degree. He never really brightened up at the sight of you before. Nor did he ask for your opinion in his upcoming meal plan for the week. At first you chalked it up to him noticing your earlier distress somehow, but after you got better, he kept on acting saccharine.

One day, he brought you a drink. Not served you at the table with everyone else, but went out of his way to bring it to where you were sunbathing on the deck. You could only stare at him until he awkwardly left it by your side, stammered something about the heat, and then left.

Incidents like that kept happening, usually out of sight of the other crewmates, but not always. The others started picking up on it too. At one point, Sanji brought Robin, Nami, and Chopper slices of cake–and then brought you a plate as well. That time, everyone’s eyes were on him, but Sanji pretended like nothing was off.

When he chirped “Hi, Y/N-chan,” to you as he passed by you in the hall, you had enough. You grabbed him and shoved him against the wall, hard. He immediately knew he messed up, but despite your fingers fisted in his collar and your murderous expression, he only flushed red.

“What are you doing?” you hissed.

“I–I’m–” Sanji stammered. Blood started to run from one of his nostrils.

“Why are you acting like this?” you demanded. “Being all sappy and disgusting to me. Who do you think I am?”

“I–I’m sorry,” Sanji tried. You grit your teeth, beginning to fear the worst.

“Did you lose all respect for me when you saved my life?” you asked bluntly.

“Of course not! I think highly of you.”

“Too much so, don’t you think?” you had to struggle not to shout. “Is this because you heard me crying last month?”

Sanji shut his mouth, glancing aside and giving away the answer. He nodded.

“Am I weak to you or something?”

“No, that’s not it–” he tried, but you pulled him away from the wall and slammed him back into it.

“I don’t understand! You’re too soft with me. Why are you treating me so nicely?”

“Because you’re a woman, and women deserve the best.” He said it unflinchingly and with conviction, looking right back into your eyes.

The answer was obvious, but a part of you still hoped it was something else, hoped that because he didn’t go overboard with his affections that he didn’t know. Your grip on his collar weakened and gave away along with your hopes, hands hanging limply at your sides.

“When did you find out?” you asked quietly. “Or should I say, how?”

“I saw you crying.” Sanji pulled out a handkerchief, wiping his nose.

“So?”

“You may look and act like a man…but a woman’s tears leave no room for doubts.”

You stared at him in disbelief. Unfair. That’s what this was. Just unfair. Because after all those years living as a male, you got found out because of Sanji’s freakish sixth sense for women. Your sigh was heavy, and you had to rest your head in your hand for a moment.

“Okay, well, we need to set some things straight. You can’t keep slipping up around me, or the others will find out. They already suspect something’s up.”

“I'm trying!” Sanji retorted. “I knew you were hiding it for some reason, so I tried to keep myself in check! Do you know how hard it’s been?”

“How hard it’s been?” You wanted to punch him. “You have no idea what I go through every day just to keep up appearances! Just to earn the regard I deserve! Why couldn't you respect me as a man?”

“I don't respect men.”

“Ugh!” You punched the wall by his head instead. Sanji didn’t flinch. “You have to take me seriously.”

“I am!”

“We can’t keep going like this.” You bit your lip in frustration, trying to think of a solution. Maybe you could use his weird complex around women to your advantage, if he would just stop giving it away. “Okay, listen. Sanji. If you really want to do me a favor, the best thing you can do is help me keep my secret. That means whenever you have the urge to treat me like a girl, you nip it in the bud. Can you do that?”

“I…I’ll try.” Sanji went to take your hand, but you yanked it away.

“This is exactly what I’m talking about! You can’t be so familiar.”

“I’m sorry. It’s hard! I–I want to treat you right. I want to be close to you.”

“I want to be close to you to,” you admitted, surprising yourself. “But I. I’d… I’d rather hold onto my secret.”

He looked hurt, which sent a cold pang of guilt into your stomach. Reaching out, you patted his shoulder. “I’m depending on you, do you understand?”

Sanji took in your expression–serious, worried, uncertain–and nodded. The hand that reached for yours instead went over his heart. “I promise,” he said, “I will do everything I can to help keep your secret.”

The talk with Sanji helped massively, fixing his odd behavior around you for the most part. There was one thing he couldn’t give up, and that was giving you a nickname. He called you something in French–“mon petit chou,” he would say–but as it was foreign, you figured it was safe to use around the crew, and let it slide.

It was only a few months later that you learned Robin was fluent in French.

#replies #luciledreamz #zoro x reader #luffy x reader #sanji x reader #x reader #one piece imagines #finished requests #zen writes

[madiomens]

Just Pretend [n.s.]

Chapter Nineteen

We had a 6 AM flight to the next country, landing in Germany around 8:30. We rolled into the Airbnb at 9:15 all shells of ourselves from the insanity that last night was. We all made our way to the bedrooms to try and get some rest before the show tonight. There wasn't VIP for this show, so the guys didn't have to get to the venue until around 2:30 to help finish setting up and do a quick soundcheck. Noah and I claimed the master bedroom and closed the door behind us, collapsing on the large bed in the center. I rolled onto my side and he scooted closer, chest flush against my back. He slid his arms around me to hold me tightly. I laced my fingers through his that were around my midsection and hugged his hand to my chest, sighing contentedly. 

I stirred around 12 and rolled over in Noah's arms, eyes landing on his sleeping face. I smiled and brushed the hair off his forehead, the strands shorter from him cutting his hair again.

"Mmm." He mumbled, rolling onto his back and taking me with him.

I chuckled as I stretched the length of my body down his, my feet right above his knees. "Noah." I said, poking his cheek.

"Mmm mmm." He protested, shaking his head. 

I chuckled again and placed a kiss on his lips, pulling back to see him peeking at me through his eyelashes. "We need to eat before going to the venue." I said softly, propping myself up on his chest.

"But I just wanna stay here." He whined, pulling me closer so my head dropped onto his chest.

I laughed and wrapped my arms around him, placing a kiss over his hoodie. "Me too but we have jobs to attend. You have some very dedicated fans to please."

"That I do." He said, tightening his arms around me.

I sighed and pushed myself up to get out of his grasp, causing him to protest with a groan. I laughed and shook my head at him before crawling out of bed and holding a hand out for him. He sighed and grabbed my hand to let me help him out of bed. We made our way to the bathroom to brush our teeth quickly before opening the bedroom door to leave. He smacked my ass when I walked past him and I turned to smack his chest, causing him to laugh. He bent down to kiss my cheek before making his way down the hall.

I watched his back with a smile, shaking my head at him. My eyes landed on Nicholas standing in his doorway watching us, grin on his face. "What?" I questioned confusedly.

He shook his head. "You two are so in love."

I furrowed my brows as a weird pang hit my chest. "No we aren't."

He chuckled and turned to follow Noah down the hallway. "Whatever you say, Maddie."

I chewed on my lip with my brows still furrowed before following them to the kitchen area. The guys put together 'family noodles' which we quickly scarfed down so we could get our stuff together for the show.  We arrived to the venue right on time and started setting up the rest of the stage, but my mind was elsewhere. I kept mulling over Nicholas' comment from earlier, the inside of my lip raw from me chewing on it so much. 

There's no way Noah and I were in love. Definitely not this fast. I've only been on the road with the band for a little over a month, and even if it does feel like it's been a lifetime, it hasn't. There's no way I could be stupid enough to let myself get attached to a man this fast again. Not when I promised myself I'd never let it happen again since the last time.

"Hey." Noah said, rubbing my back and jerking me out of my thoughts. "You ok?" He questioned, concern on his face.

I nodded, forcing a small grin. "I'm fine."

He furrowed his brows as his eyes roamed my face, as if picking apart the lie I was forcing.  "You can tell me what it is when you're ready." He said, placing a chaste kiss on my cheek before joining the other guys to help finish up the stage.

A pain shot through my heart at the gesture. He is so unbelievably thoughtful and caring, which makes my heart soar and break all at the same time. I don't know how it happened, but the 6'3 brunette has somehow weaseled his way into my heart without giving me time to stop it.

And that scares the fuck out of me.

I know Noah is nothing like my ex. I know he would never in a million years put his hands on me, or speak to me anywhere close to the way my ex did. I know all of this. But somewhere deep down, my brain is telling me to pause. It's screaming at me that I'm stupid and that I'm letting my guard down way too fast. That I'm only going to be hurt again. 

I took a deep, shaky breath and slowly let it out before making my way backstage to start getting ready. I had no motivation to go all out tonight, so I just applied some mascara and put on my brow gel, leaving my face bare. I pulled on an oversized black sweater with leggings and my Doc's before pulling my hair into a high ponytail, pulling out some pieces to frame my face. I pulled my lip down to look at the damage my anxiety has given me, and sighed when I saw the bloody teeth marks on it. I looked at myself in the mirror, mentally willing myself to shove my thoughts to the back of my brain so I could efficiently do my job tonight. Noah walked up to me when I walked out of the bathroom and I gave him a close lipped smile before walking past him to make my way to the crowd.

"Maddie?" He questioned, grabbing my arm. "What's going on?"

My eyes met his concerned ones and another pain shot through my heart. He doesn't deserve this, but my brain won't let me stop. "Nothing, I gotta get to the fans for the opener."

I walked out of the backstage area before he could say anything else, knowing that if one more word escaped his mouth I'd be a blubbering puddle of emotions and anxiety. I pushed the negative thoughts aside once I started greeting everyone, offering fake smiles to them. 

"Maddie! How are you and Noah?" A fan questioned at the front, causing others to turn their attention towards us.

I forced a smile and laugh before answering. "Good, thank you for asking." I bent down to open a package of waters to blink back the tears that threatened to surface. I handed out bottles to people along the barricade, tossing a few further back. "I hope you guys enjoy the show!" I yelled, smile plastered back onto my face.

It took everything in me not to zone out while I sat on my box during the opener. I swung my feet back and forth to give my body some sort of way to relieve the anxiety clouding my mind. Before I knew it, it was almost time for the guys to go on. I decided not to go backstage to see them before, knowing everyone would be asking me what was wrong and probably wind up being late going on stage. My phone buzzed with a message and I pulled it out to see Noah's name on my screen.

'Where are you?'

I stared at the message, chewing on my lip as I tried to come up with an excuse to type back before he sent another text.

'What's going on? Did I do something?'

My brows furrowed as emotions bubbled up over how I was making him feel. How am I supposed to tell him that he is all of a sudden the most important person in the world to me but I can't let him be? I sighed and typed back a message.

'I'm fine, the fans are a little overheated. Gonna stay with them. Good luck <3'

I locked my phone and put it back into the pocket of my leggings with a sigh. Using the fans as a cop out is pretty low, but I can't muster up the courage to go backstage and make eye contact with his big brown eyes. I would crumble underneath his stare immediately. The lights went out, interrupting my thoughts as the screams rang throughout my ears. I took a deep breath as a smile slid onto my face watching everyone's excited faces. Something that can instantly put me in a better mood is witnessing pure joy from people.

The entire show Noah kept sending me concerned looks, slowly cracking away the front I had up. As soon as Just Pretend started, I felt myself tearing up at the lyrics and melody as Noah's voice glided through the air. I made the mistake of looking up at him, instantly making eye contact with his big eyes. My breath caught in my throat while we kept eye contact, the words piercing me like a knife.

'I know the pain that you hide behind the smile on your face

And not a day goes by where I don't think I. feel the same

So will you wait me out

Or will you drown me out?'

My eyes welled up with tears as he sang, my vision becoming blurry while I desperately tried to will them away. Everything inside me screamed to break the eye contact, but every part of me was also unable to. As if this song didn't already have enough meaning to me.

The song ended and the lights went out, causing me to blink and turn my face away from the stage. I wiped the tears inconspicuously that escaped my eyes, rubbing my fingers off on my sweater. I forced myself not to look at the stage the rest of the show and all but ran backstage once the guys finished, hurrying so I could pack my stuff and avoid the worried stares. 

"Maddie?" Noah's voice came out, causing me to pause as I was packing my makeup bag. "Baby, what's wrong?" He said, gently resting a hand on my back.

I chewed on my lip as I teared up again. I stood up as I zipped my bag, avoiding eye contact. "I'll talk at the house."

"Hey," He said, halting my movements and placing his hands on my cheeks to force me to look at him. "did someone say something?" He said, eyes searching mine. Concern was etched into every feature of his face, chocolate brown eyes boring into my hazel ones. 

I chewed on my lip more before he brought a thumb up to pull it from between my teeth. "Sort of. It's ok." I said, voice coming out barely above a whisper. "I'll talk to you at the house." I said before grabbing my bag and leaving the bathroom before the flood gates opened.

I rushed outside to the car, sighing when the door closed behind me and I was left in the silence. I laid my head back against the headrest and closed my eyes, trying to calm my brain down. It felt like only a few minutes before the guys were climbing in with me, the smell of sweat confirming Noah probably rushed them to leave. I saw Noah look down at me from my peripheral before he brought his hand to mine and laced our fingers together, thumb rubbing the back of my hand. I let myself give in to the contact from him and laid my head on his shoulder, causing him to lay his on top of mine. At this moment I didn't care that he was sweaty from the show, I just needed to let myself give into his warmth one last time for awhile.

We got to the house and climbed out, all of us making our ways to our separate rooms. I paused outside of Noah's as he walked in, heart pounding so hard it could leap from my chest. He turned to look at me, furrowing his brows.

He nodded his head towards the room. "Come on."

I sighed and walked in, closing the door softly behind me. I leaned my back against it and closed my eyes, dropping my head backwards so that it hit the door with a soft thud. "Noah." I whispered.

"Hey, what's going on?" He questioned, hand landing on my arm and causing me to open my eyes.

I chewed on my lip more as my eyes searched his. "I have let myself get too attached too fast." I said, voice even more of a whisper than before.

He furrowed his brows. "What do you mean?"

"I promised myself." I said, pausing to take a deep breath. "I can't let myself fall for a guy just for him to pull the rug out from under me and break my heart."

His brows furrowed deeper, frown on his face. "Maddie, you know I would never."

I clenched my jaw and broke our eye contact, unable to speak my thoughts if I looked at him any longer. "I think I need to slow down."

"Wait, what?" He questioned, softly placing his hand on my face. "Maddie, where is this coming from?"

I sighed as tears filled my eyes. "Nicholas made a comment about us being in love earlier and it reminded me of how stupid I was being. It's barely been past a month of tour and I'm this far deep into you."

"You're not being stupid, I'm in deep too." He said gently, trying to pull my face to look at him. "Come on, baby, look at me." My brows pinched together as I let him turn my face, tears falling down my face the second I made eye contact with him. "I am all in. I only want you." He said, brushing my tears away with his thumb. 

I shook my head as the tears kept flowing, a sob threatening to bubble up. "I only want you, but I need time to be ok with that."

"What do you mean?" He questioned, placing his other hand on my face. "What do you need to happen?"

My chest heaved as I struggled to even out my breath, the sadness on his face breaking my heart. "I just need some time. I'll sleep in the extra room."

His eyes searched mine, brown orbs filling with tears and breaking my heart even more. He nodded, leaning down to place a kiss on my forehead. "Whatever you need, baby." He whispered, voice shaky and cracking.

I chewed harshly on my lip as the sob choked me, holding my breath to push it down. "Thank you." I said before slipping out from under him to leave the room and make my way to the spare.

"Maddie." He called at my back from his room, causing me to turn and face him. He had tears on his face that matched mine, cheeks red from emotions. "Come back to me."

A half of the sob escaped me and I nodded before slipping into the room and quickly shutting the door behind me. I covered my mouth with my hands and slid down the door, body shaking as I fully let the tears out. I sobbed into my hands, tears sliding down my sleeves and head pounding through the pain I was feeling. A soft knock came on a door across the room and I jumped before my eyes landed on Folio emerging from an apparently shared bathroom. 

"Maddie?" He questioned softly.

Another sob escaped me, causing him to rush across the room and crouch down to my level. He pulled me into a hug and rocked us back and forth to try and console me, violent shakes taking over my body.

"I always fuck good things up." I said through my tears. "I can't let myself be happy."

He pulled back to lift my face, pushing the hair off it. "What happened?"

"Nicholas made a comment about us being in love and my brain spiraled, reminding me how stupid I was being." I said through my shaky voice.

He furrowed his brows. "Stupid? How?"

"Because," I started, hiccup interrupting me. "I haven't known him for very long and I'm already so attached."

He softly chuckled and wiped tears from my face. "And that's a bad thing?"

I nodded as more tears fell. "Yes because the last time this happened was my ex you met."

Sympathy washed over his face. "Oh, Maddie." He said, causing me to go into another crying fit. He wrapped his arms back around me. "You know Noah is nothing like him." He said, causing me to nod against his chest. "Trauma is a nasty thing, and it needs time to heal. I understand if you need some time, but just know Noah is a good one. I've seen the way he looks at you. He's all in."

"That's what terrifies me." I cried out. "How could he be all in with me? I'm just Maddie."

He pulled my face up so I would look at him. "You don't even realize how amazing you are." He said, wiping my tears. "And how incredibly fucking lucky Noah is that you have chosen him. So many guys want to be in his shoes."

My eyes searched his as my tears slowed down, realization hitting me. "Folio...."

He shook his head and wiped more tears from my face. "It's fine, you don't have to say anything. Just know Noah is lucky and will make you the happiest woman ever if you let him." He said, soft grin on his face. "I know you'll never love me the way you love him."

Fresh tears welled up in my eyes at his confession, watching him wipe more tears from my face before pushing himself onto his feet. He pulled me to mine and steadied me with his hands on my shoulders, soft smile on his face. "Thank you for always being here for me regardless." I said softly, voice cracking.

He rubbed my cheek with his thumb. "That'll never change."

He walked out of my room and closed the door to the bathroom softly, leaving me with my thoughts and tears for the rest of the night.

#noah sebastian #bad omens #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian fanfic #bad omens fanfiction

[aching-tummies]

"My tummy hurts" you say as we slowly walk down the street arm in arm. " I know baby but just a little longer and will be there" I say as I move my hand down to rub your swollen bloated belly. We are on our way to meet my boss at an office party. They said to bring your family and unfortunately when I interviewed for the job I nervously said that you were pregnant (a lie of course) and I needed this position because of it. Now 8 months later they want to see us together and theres only one way to get you looking that pregnant that fast. So here we are walking into the office arm in arm with your tummy stuffed to the max and swollen enough to pull of being pregnant. "Just follow my lead and if they offer you more food just try and eat what you can"

Wow...this is an interesting scenario. I don't think I've done preg or preg-adjacent stuff on here. Honestly, preg-stuff is low on my list of things. First time for anything, I guess ^^ A very creative scenario ^^ I don't know if I did it justice here. Honestly, I wanted to write more...but I kept getting stuck on some scenes and I kind of feel like I'm being very crabby to Anon in this and I guess I couldn't hold the suspension of disbelief at the sit-com-y premise of this scenario, as enjoyable as it was. Thank you for sending this one in! It was super interesting and hilarious and I enjoyed writing it ^^

Trigger warnings: fake pregnancy with mentions of "failed to take" pregnancy. I know that pregnancies that don't result in a healthy baby afterwards can be a touchy subject in real life and I don't want to upset anyone. I have never experienced it myself, but I've known people who have and I do not wish that on anyone or wish for anyone to have to re-live such moments. If pregnancy-related things (including non-successful ones) is upsetting to you, feel free to skip and not read the stuff under the cut.

“Ugh...m-my tummy hurts.”

“I know, baby, but just a little longer and we will be there.” You rub gently at my swollen stomach over my dress. As good as the rubs feel, I'm angry at you and quickly smack your hand away with a glare.

“Nnngh...you owe me big-time for this, sweetie.” My annoyed tone completely counters the affectionate pet-name and the sickly grumble from my belly seems to come on-cue as though agreeing with me. “Ugh...you already lied once...why couldn't you have lied again, moron?” I huff and sit on a nearby bench in the foyer of the venue, rubbing my distended tummy.

“I panicked, love. I'm sorry.”

“There's no way this'll work.” I nudge at the slight bulge of my belly.

My stomach is firm and definitely bulged out enough to make wearing jeans extremely uncomfortable. Unfortunately, that's what I've got on beneath a flow-y, high-waisted, knee-length dress. In order to make my belly really pop, I have on a pair of denim booty-shorts, belted just under the slight curve of my full belly to prop it up as well as to inhibit digestion. We need this budge to last the whole night, after all. It's excruciating, but the sheer stupidity of my partner and his harebrained plots is a close second to the amount of pain my belly is in.

“It's fine. First pregnancies are usually small, right? No one will know..” You crouch in front of me, squeezing my budging belly between your palms, sliding them around my bulge as though fluffing up a throw pillow. You're also checking to ensure that I haven't sneakily loosened the belt under my dress. I glare at you, gripping your wrists tightly in a silent threat.

Try as we did, we couldn't get my belly any bigger than this. You didn't remember your initial lie until someone called to remind you of the event and that everyone was excited to meet your 'expecting' wife. Honestly, if I had known that taking part in such a ridiculous, sit-com-y plot was going to be a part of our marriage, I'd probably have thought twice about saying 'I do'.

“How are we going to explain it when there isn't a baby in a month or two? You should have dropped the lie early on, said the pregnancy didn't take or something. It's going to be much harder to explain now.” I nudge at my belly and wince, having poked too hard at my achy tummy.

“A little late for that now, isn't it?” You hiss, not wanting to be reminded of your web of lies.

“Anon! Welcome! Is that your wife? Don't get up, no need to stand on ceremony—lovely to meet you!” A man in a suit jumps in, startling you as you jump up, putting some unwanted pressure on the crest of my belly as you rise. I hiss and can't help but curl up as my stomach gripes at the pressure.

“Sir! T-Thank you, sir! Y-Yes. T-This is m-my wife—m-my very pregnant wife, sir!” I subtly stomp on your foot, telling you 'obvious-lie-is-obvious'.

“May I?” Your boss hovers his hand over my belly. I flash an angry look your way. Of course, the stupid, stupid phenomenon where everyone and their mother starts pawing at the pregnant lady's belly.

“O-Of course, sir!” My rage against you is almost tangible as you allow your boss to rub my belly, shrugging over his shoulder as though to say 'I panicked'--story of our lives, I see.

I bite back a snarl as your boss palms at my belly. We spent forty minutes rubbing my stomach after stuffing me silly to ensure we got as much gas out of my guts as we could. We needed it to be packed, stuffed solid and not likely to deflate throughout the night.

“My, my—what an active child!” Your boss leaves his palm on the crest of my belly as he makes some small talk with you, completely ignoring the seething lady he has his hand on.

After the boss has landed a couple of solid pats on my tummy, I nudge his hand off of my stomach.

“Sorry, my late Cynthia and I always wanted to try for a baby.” Your boss's eyes grow misty at the memory. “Where are my manners? Terrance Floyd, at your service—feel free to call me 'Terry'.” Terrance offers a slight bow, retracting his hand from my belly. “When you're ready. Feel free to enter Conference Room B. The party is in there. I've been told that there will be a champagne tower—no pressure to partake, my dear. There are plenty of non-alcoholic alternatives available if you ask the bar-tender or waitstaff. I hope you enjoy the party.” With another subtle bow, Terrance Floyd leaves us in peace to go greet another guest that has just entered the building.

Once Terrance leaves, I direct my burning gaze squarely on you. If looks could kill, you'd be dead a billion times over with just that look.

“I panicked!” You exclaim. “I get that you're mad—but we needed me to have this job!”

“Well, stop panicking. Make something up 'cuz you seem to have a lot of experience with that. I'm not going to sit here and let everyone and their father paw at my stomach all night.” I rub my stomach, mentally cursing Terrance Floyd as the achy cramping in my belly intensifies.

Digestion was already stalled thanks to the ridiculous glut of food we managed to cram into my belly in the three hours we had between the call and leaving the house. The belt was cinched as an added layer of insurance, in case moving around somehow managed to kick-start digestion. My stomach's been trying and failing for digestion, convulsing painfully ever since we left the car and began the walk into the venue. Terrance's palming did me no favours and he no doubt felt the intense cramping of my belly under his palm and attributed that to the fake baby moving around.

“He's my boss!”

“And I'm your wife. Better think fast or we'll be adding an 'ex' to that.”

“Anon! And Eitee? We've heard so much about you! Are you coming in? Terry just said it's Conference Room B.” A bubbly, lady flounces over to where we are, plopping down next to me on the bench. I bite back a cross between a snarl and a moan as her action jostles my upset belly. I can already tell that her cheery attitude is going to grate on my nerves. Her partner strolls along behind her, stopping next to Anon.

“Hello! I'm Greg. Anon and I work in the same department. That's my wife, Bebe. Bebe—reign it in a bit.”

“Hi, I'm Bebe! Gosh, your dress is so cute! I love the color on you. I'd have gone for a bright yellow. I guess maternity wear is limited? Oh gosh—right, you're pregnant! You must be so excited! Have you thought of names yet?” Despite her husband's admonishment, Bebe's mouth is going a mile a minute.

She's an animated conversationalist—if you can call one-person speaking a conversation--talking with her hands and her whole body. She's like something straight out of a 90s cartoon, moving this way and that, facing one way and then another, hands clapping to her cheeks or mouth every time she gasps at some new statement she utters. She also doesn't have the same courtesy your boss had, her hands have already slapped themselves onto my belly about three times during her monologue.

“Uhm...Bebe—it's nice that you're friendly and all. My wife...uhm...she doesn't really like being touched so if you could...uhm.” You stutter, nervous under the force of my glare.

“Yes, Bebe. I'm sorry, I really don't like being touched.”

“Oh? I'm sorry! Is it Braxton Hicks? I heard it can happen!” Once again, Bebe's going a mile a minute, though I save 'Braxton Hicks' for later, in case I want to beat a hasty retreat from the party. Despite being told, Bebe's hands still find their way onto my belly more than a couple of times.

“How about we head in? The sooner we get started, the sooner all of this will be over.” I mutter, shooting a glare at you.

“You don't like parties, Eitee?” Bebe's tone takes on a bit of hurt and disbelief, like she can't fathom the idea of someone that doesn't like parties.

I gesture at my belly, hoisting myself up and placing a hand against my back to help with hefting the load (coincidentally, it's also a posture many pregnant women adopt). I gesture at my protruding belly.

“Kind of hard to party with a seven pound bowling ball in my stomach. Can't drink, can't be around smoking people, can't exactly dance in this state. If it weren't for my darling being so desperate to prove to his colleagues that he managed to score at least once, I'd be at home trying to decide between a hot bath, a nap, or whatever twisted snack combination this little one demands we try.” I add the last one on for good measure, but the thought of eating anything at all makes my stomach quake uneasily.

Greg chuckles. “Yeah, he's really been talking you up at the office. Most of the interns think he's bragging and half of them think he's bluffing.”

As much as I hate you for tonight, the idea that you've been bragging about me is touching.

The four of us make our way to Conference Room B. It's one of those meet and mingle parties. Lots of open space, a bar, tables full of finger foods and waitstaff dressed to the nines carrying more finger foods on platters and offering them to the guests. At the centre of the room is a seven foot champagne tower, like Terrance mentioned.

One of the waitstaff saunters over, offering a platter of something on a cracker to the four of us. Greg and Bebe take one each, with Bebe squealing and chattering on and on about the flavours. You take one and give me a look but one glance at the platter makes me feel sick to my stomach and I wave off the chance to try it. You frown at me as the waitstaff leaves.

I grip your hand tightly as my stomach convulses sharply at the sight of all the food. As stuffed as I am, even the idea of a single bite of any of it makes me fear I'll puke, burst, or both.

“That was rude.” You hiss at me. I match your glare, jabbing at my drum-tight belly.

“When I puke, not if, I'm gonna aim it squarely on you, bozo.” I hiss right back.

#tummy ache #tummy kink #stuffing #stuffing kink #stuffed tummy #RP-scenario #RP-Ask #Belly rubs #preg-adjacent

[faebaetch]

I miss him so much. I miss him more than air in my lungs. I feel like I'm drowning. I've never experienced this kind of grief.

And I did it to myself. That's the funny thing, right?

There's no one to blame here. No one did this to me. This was a perfectly orchestrated self destruction.

And it hurts so bad.

It's only ever been him that I've ever wanted to grovel and crawl to, beg for. Never have I ever thought about putting myself in that position before him. First, because of his anger and now because of the opposite.

I wrote before about wanting to feel like someone's sun. Wanting to feel important and wanted and worshipped because then, I didn't. I felt dull, unwanted, like my novelty had worn off. That's why I left.

And then something changed. And he looked at me like I hung the stars in the sky myself. His touch had warmth to it again. He loved me so fully.

And then I felt dumb. I felt stupid for throwing that away but it wasn't really there before to begin with, right? And I was scared of going back and I was scared of being judged. So I held him at arms length.

But see, then the loving looks and doting attitude and sweet words, they sting. Because while I feel them and I return them they had an expiration date. I knew I was never going to make us a reality again. I knew all of his love and care was for nothing and that tasted like guilt.

And so I pushed him farther. And farther. And I hoped that if I made myself hard enough to love, he'd stop.

That crazy fucker never did though. He adored me constantly and I felt like garbage for it. How could someone so lovely be infatuated with me? The person who gave him nothing. The person who refused to return that affection even though I was so DESPERATELY in love with him.

Because through all that, I loved him. I love him. And I needed him so desperately even if I kept him at arms length. And I hoped he would find better than me for himself.

And then the guilt was too much. I wanted to be happy. I wanted him to have his 5 year plan. I wanted him to get married and bring someone home for Christmas and have someone on his arm that was so proud to say "this is my partner".

And I wanted him, but not him. I wanted someone my family didn't know. I wanted a fresh start. I didn't want the stigma. But I wanted him, just repackaged.

And funnily enough, he got that.

I didn't.

Because that person doesn't exist.

It's just him. It always has been.

But now here I am, empty, hollow, cold. That's dramatic. It's how it feels but it's dramatic.

I imagine groveling to him, begging, pleading, just asking him to hold me. I crave his big, warm hands on my thighs and his fingers running up and down my spine. I want nothing more than to fall asleep with our foreheads touching, cooing sweet things that would make us gag in the daylight. I want him to look at me again like I hung the stars in the sky. I want to look at him that way.

But that's not right, it's not fair. I got what I wanted. He found better than me for himself and I hope he found happy.

And while I'm so jealous for just a taste of what she has right now, I'm truthfully happy for her. I hope she's everything he needs.

And there's a small part of me that's much bigger than I'd like to admit that hopes she's not. It's constantly conflicting. I don't wish anything bad for him or her and I'm so fiercely protective of him I want her to understand who she has and look at him with that adoration. In the same breath, I hope she doesn't. I hope she doesn't realize what she has and squanders it. I hope she fumbles.

And I hope there's room for me to come crawling, groveling, in with no dignity intact. I have no use for it then.

It's sad, it's desperate, it's so unlike me. But here we are.

#journal #mental health #personal #gross ex #DIS GHUS TANG

[catboydan]

it's time to abandon my current instagram and start one where i just follow dnp and that's literally it

#also maybe bts tho unsure #the problem is i only keep it around to see stories from the people i follow not anything from people i know #but then i see stuff that makes me unhappy or triggers the stupid fucking rejection sensitivity and i feel like shit for the rest of the da #but i can't unfollow my irls because that feels too rude + there's family on there too. #so making a second account and only ever actually using that one is the go-to i think. #val comes out of hiding #..... i wasn't invited to my friend's bachelorette party..... #i don't drink i don't party i would have gone anyway #i messaged our group chat from a few months ago when we got together for a game night asking if we wanted to do another one yesterday. #and then i stumbled onto instagram today and saw they'd had the party last week. #tw negativity #i just feel stupid. but i've kept myself at an arm's length so that's on me

[joshslater]

Dionysus

Similar stories and bonus material on my Patreon.

I was very hesitant when he picked me up at the nightclub. I could feel the disappointment and outright hostility from all the women and a lot of the men as the God walked up to me, started to make out, and then asked if I was up for some fun. That's what you get away with when no one ever says "no" I thought. With his incredibly handsome face, black hair, and athletic build that was probably not a word he was used to hearing. It would be impossible for him to know I was into guys, and coming on so strong could land you in hot water or rather knocked cold on the floor. Turns out he could know, and there was more to him than just utter handsomeness and unparalleled confidence. Way more.

It was back at his place he asked me if I could look like someone else, who would I pick? That's a game I've played many times before, so I instantly knew to answer Marco Albieri, the soccer player. He raised an eyebrow, took a step from me, and asked me why. "I don't know what it is about soccer players, but something about the game makes their bodies stunningly handsome. And Marco is just a step above the rest." He smiled a bright smile, made a dramatic gesture, and I was Marco. Looked exactly like him at least. It took me a moment to even realize what had just happened, but I could see myself in the full-length mirror. Or I couldn't, I should say. I saw Marco Albieri in full Paris Saint-Germain F.C. game kit. Mesmerized I took a step closer to the mirror, and Marco on the other side of the glass stepped closer as well. I looked just like him, my wettest, wankiest dream. I'd come so many times to exactly this fantasy. There was even a sheen of post-game sweat making all the skin glistening in his hallway designer lights.

He approached me from behind, still handsome but now by a much narrower margin. "You ready to fuck?" I didn't even answer but just turned around and kissed him. He wasn't shy in grouping me back. What followed was the longest fuck fest I've ever been part of. We went from room to room. It was like this body had limitless stamina, though it was the body of Marco after all, but an insatiable horny lust as well. Perhaps he had that too. It wasn't until early morning I fell asleep next to him, exhausted.

It was almost noon when I woke up, disoriented by everything. It was like it wasn't until now the craziness and impossibility of last night hit me. I could see Marco Albieri in the mirror at the other side of the bedroom, without shirt, and the most unkempt hair I had ever seen him with. I knew for a fact the secret hairstyling trick was body fluids. I suddenly felt very uneasy and exposed. Vulnerable even. I was here on vacation. How could I leave if I didn't look like my passport? How could I leave this building looking like Marco? There would be fans stopping me instantly. What the fuck am I thinking about? I'm erased from the world. No one I know, no one in my family would recognize me. Could I convince them I'm me and not a millionaire soccer player? Perhaps. But my life would be so complicated.

That's when he lazily strolled into the bedroom, completely naked showing off his chiseled body, one mug in each hand.

"You did this! How the fuck did you do this? You can't leave me like this!" "Morning!"

He handed me one of the mugs. On reflex I took a large sip of coffee only to discover it was red wine. It took me by surprise and I almost sprayed his white sheets with red mist of wine, but instead got some down my lungs and started to cough.

"Is this really the best you can think of?" he said. At first I had no idea what he meant. Then, still coughing, I realized it was my body again. The one I used to fly here, check into the hotel, and go out to nightclubs with.

"I... It's awfully inconvenient if I tried to leave with a different body." "That's it? That's the only reason?"

I felt stupid and unsure what to say. I liked my body, so why was it so hard to defend it? He took a large sip from his coffee mug of wine and climbed into bed next to me, but standing on his knees looking down on me.

"When's your flight back?" "Eh, in... On Sunday." "Plenty of time to let loose. How about going to the beach like this?"

This time I noticed the shift. The bed sagged down a bit under the extra load and I didn't even have to look in the mirror to see the freakish muscles. Two huge chest muscles peeked into my field of vision, and moving my arm I could see it was thicker than what my legs used to be.

I felt light-headed as we walked down to the beach. Probably the wine. He was subtle and classy, black Nike sneakers, black boardshorts, and a white T-shirt. I was anything but subtle. Probably twice his mass, annoying flip flops that flipped and flopped every step, white compression shorts that looked blindingly bright against my deep tan, a purple thong that peeked up over the rim of the shorts by the hips, visible because the neon yellow tank top was cropped above the belly button to show off the abs. The stringer waved for every step as my obscene pecs push out the yellow fabric like a hanging flag. It touched my body in surprisingly few places. Top of the traps and the nipples more or less.

After spending a few hours getting everyone passing by on the beach to turn their heads to observe the freak show he asked me to play floatation device for him. We went out in the water and did our best to have sex just outside where the waves broke. I think anyone who paid close attention could tell what we did, but no one could be really sure. He didn't appear to care.

"I made you something," he whispered. "What?" "A surfer," he said and begun walking towards the beach. As I wiped my long hair out of my face I understood he changed me again. No more shaved head, no more enormous meat slab. I still had a six-pack, I was still 6'-something, and my skin was deeply tanned, but that's about where the similarities ended. "Why?" I asked as I lied down on the beach towel next to his. "First dive bar opens soon, and I thought this would play better to the crowd." I was feeling woozy. "We want to play to the crowd?" He reached over and squeezed the pec closest to him. "Well, make them jealous at least."

There was something nagging at the edge of my thoughts. Some question I felt I needed to ask. I just couldn't quite put it into coherent thought.

"Did you drug me?" He made a high-pitched "Mmmm" sound. "Just a bit. To fit with the rest. Just go with it."

I shut my eyes, relaxed, and let his hand stroke me. I don't know how long we lied like that. Not too long, because the sun hadn't moved that much, but I sure did dozed off.

"Come on!" he said, like it was asking me to hurry up for the third time. A bit confused I got up from the beach towel. I wore a pair of eye-popping turquoise board shorts with black pattern and trim. Neon turquoise, if such a color was a thing. I knew it had a real trade name, but somehow it kept slipping my mind. They had a good fit, not loose, not tight, but rode low on my lithe body. Fuzzy pubes peeked out over the waistband, like a little forest edge where the treasure trail from the belly button ended. I looked around for a shirt or something to put on, but there was nothing except for a pair of flip-flops. These didn't look as cheap and fit much better than the previous pair though.

"Is that it?" I asked incredulously. "What more do you need?" he said, and looked at me like he wanted me for dinner. "Come!"

The bar wasn't far away and already busy when we arrived. He almost danced in, basically dragging me in, holding my hand. I was woozy from whatever I was drugged with, but in a way that made everything look amazing to me. In any direction I looked I was delighted by what I saw, no matter how mundane. The bar was not even half full and everyone looked as relaxed as you would expect from a bar half a block from the beach, though no one else was bare-chested. The decor was a random mix of styles, as expected by a dive bar. Tables for two or four were lined up in front of the bar at the back of the room. From a backroom somewhere behind it pumped music. I looked at my watch to see if it was already dance time, but I was only wearing a red nylon cord as a bracelet.

"You must be thirsty after a day in the sun," he said and handed me an Aperol Spritz. I could have sworn he hadn't left me for the bar, but then I didn't really trust my senses. We took a table for four and sat next to each other, facing the rest of the room. "So, tell me about your day," he continued, as if he hadn't been there for all of it.

For whatever reason I found it hard to figure out where to start, like it was all jumbled together despite nothing of consequence had happened. I began to describe how I had woken up in bed and how he surprised me with breakfast. How I had mistaken the red wine for coffee. I could feel his hand moving down my abs and into my board shorts. As he pulled out my erect cock from the shorts my immediate thought was of surprise. I hadn't realized I was hard. I continued to talk about how we went to the beach, while he was jerking me off with one hand under the table. It then hit me that I had no idea what my dick looked like, if it was big or small. I had never seen it. He had transformed me somehow into this surfer. How could I have forgotten something so monumental.

At that point I shot my load under the table. Four or five large pumps. I was suddenly aware again that there were people around us, and looking around tried to figure out if any of them could see I had my dick out. At the same time I was still feeling high or whatever it was. "I'll get a refill," he said, stood up and headed for the bar. I decided to put my dick back into the shorts.

"Hey, dude. Is he like your boyfriend?" someone standing next to me asked. How long had he been there? He was handsome, not quite as tall as I was now, but more muscled. The tight billabong shirt didn't hide much. "Him? No. We just..." I was trying to think of a good word. I wasn't sure what he was, or what was happening at all really. "Wanna check out the dance floor?" "Yeah... Yeah, I would."

I followed him towards the bar, and away to the side into the dance room. It was far from packed, but we were not alone at least. Immediately I regretted following him there, even before he started moving to the music. Once he did I knew I would look silly. I started to mimic his moves best I could. He smiled a crooked smile, though not an unkind one, when he saw what I was doing. He leaned forward and barely audible over the music asked "Are you up for a second round?"

"What do you mean?" I asked back. "I saw what that other dude did to you. I live nearby, if you want to try something that isn't over in minutes."

In the door opening I see him standing with two large drinks in his hands. He looks emotionless, which in itself was a scary contrast to how he looked before. He then drinks one of the drinks in one go, then immediately empties the other one as well. No sooner has he turned away with two empty glasses when I feel a desperate need to take a piss. He's fucking with me.

"Don't go anywhere," I say and dash towards to men's room.

It's empty. I go to the lone urinal and yank my dick out of the white thong. I'm confused, but happy I got there in time to relieve myself. Why am I wearing only a white thong to a bar? As the piss is streaming for longer than I can ever recall I look down my bare smooth legs and find a pair of eye-catching red hightops. When I'm finally done I have a look at myself in the mirror. Cute, young Latino boy with a red baseball cap on his unkempt hair, and a grey shirt. The shirt in a way makes the thong stand out even more and look intentionally inappropriate. Perfect!

I return to the dance floor and find the guy waiting. "There you are. Let's go!" he says, almost demanding. He doesn't say anything on the way to his apartment two blocks away. I keep looking his way, and it feels like my dick is growing bigger every time I look at those muscled arms. His pace is brisk without being conspicuous, he clearly wants us to get to his place as quickly as possible without being seen. In through an unlocked entrance, up two flights of stairs, and in through his apartment door.

As soon as he whisked me in and closed the door behind us he grabs me, shoves me into the wall next to us, and forcefully kisses me on my mouth. "You fucking whore! I'm so fucking horny you better know what you're doing."

He snores loudly again. I had tried to ignore it to spend a few more hours in the bed, but it's getting pointless to try to sleep any more. I carefully get up and get dressed. No need for a shower, now that everything dried. I make a final check I got everything with me that I brought in. There is that nagging feeling that I'm missing something. Well, whatever it was it can't be important. Quietly I exit his apartment and make my way out of the building. I feel restless being so quiet and calm, like it is unnatural for me to be that way. I basically explode in emotions as I exit the building and literally dance down the last few steps.

I try to think what to do next. My mind is like a spinning punch bowl of thoughts and I'm only able to fish out simple verbs. Party! Drink! Dance! Fuck! The sun is barely up, but perhaps I can find some nightclub still open.

[moon-lixie]

about a letter left to be found and a boy who disappeared into thin air.

word count: 2.046k

genre: slight angst

song: 말할 수 없는 비밀 (Secret Secret) - Stray Kids

I don't think any of you would be able to understand, not even if I sit down and speak all of my truths. Still, I think I owe an explanation.

With trembling hands he gathered his things, the notebooks filled with dreams spilling from the edges of every page, his favourite hoodies, the pair of bright red headphones he had since the beginning of high school.

From the open window a cold breeze came in and ruffled the slightly damp hair of the boy, paying special attention to the ends that were still clamped together due to the dampness.

He wasn't exactly in a hurry, but he still felt nervous and anxious, because even if it was almost impossible, at the back of his mind he was haunted by the idea of someone coming in and stopping him.

Moving quickly he reached down for the towel hanging around his shoulders and ruffled his hair a couple of times more until he felt satisfied.

First of all, I have no idea where I am going but know that I'm fine.

A loud sigh caressed his lips as it escaped, filling the room that he had always called his own, his little world nobody could disrupt because in between the forgotten comics and the piles of clothes sprawled here and there he had felt more at home than he has ever felt anywhere else.

Throwing the towel to the basket of dirty laundry at the end of the hallway, he finally finished everything he had to do, simply being left with staring at himself in the mirror and fixing the wild strands of hair that had been upset by the freshly washed hoodie hugging his torso.

He could barely muster a smile at his reflection, not because he was sad, but because it all felt surreal in a sense that left him wondering if it was still the middle of the night many years ago and the last years had been nothing but the hopeful dreams of his younger self.

Maybe it's a bit selfish of me to simply leave without a warning, but please understand that I want much more than this place could ever offer me.

He closed the front door of his house, locking it with the pair of keys his mother had given him once he turned twelve; they were still held together by the Pororo keychain he had bought one day after school with such an overwhelming excitement that made the memory pull at the corners of his lips.

It felt bizarre to walk away from the entrance of his home knowing that he was never really going to come back, that this was the last time.

Just like the very first time he had arrived there along with a moving truck packed with boxes and furniture, he felt breath leave his lungs at the sight of the white façade. It made him stop for a second and contemplate in utter silence.

Goosebumps coated the length of his arms once he turned around and kept moving forward at a steady pace, leaving his old bike behind as well.

Know that the decision to leave wasn't made in a haste, I've been thinking about it for long and now just seemed like the perfect time.

Mr. Kim lazily waved in his direction, gentle smile and downturned eyes with the familiar brown that reminded Jisung of his grandfather; maybe that's where he would go next, to visit his grandfather.

Without much thought he returned the sweet and familiar greeting, feeling a bit nostalgic when he thought back to all the summers that he had spent working with the man in his garden.

Back then a young Jisung had been happy to make a few bucks while getting to stay out all day in the yard playing with bugs and with the sun kissing the skin of his chubby cheeks and legs that weren't covered by his favourite pair of green shorts.

He couldn't help but wonder where had all that time run to because despite being the one who lived through it, he could barely make sense or when had he ended up where he was.

Time moved too fast and without a warning, it left everyone wondering.

It isn't easy to leave my whole life behind but it feels right, the mere idea makes me feel lighter because who knows who I'll get to be when I get to the end of my journey.

Perhaps I'll be braver, a little bit smarter, more mature, maybe even a couple of centimetres taller.

He could walk the streets with his eyes closed and still know where every bump and crack was in the sidewalk, he could still point where his old school was, where the closest convenience store stepped in his way and as usual tempted him to buy a snack even on those days were his pockets were empty and his tummy full.

From there he knew his way to everywhere else in town, he even knew how long it would take him to get to said places on foot or with his trusty bike.

It all felt too easy and familiar, too comfortable, and those things weren't bad at all but Jisung thought he had had enough of them. He craved discovering himself inside the walls of another place so foreign that every single one of his truths were only known by himself.

Was it silly? That he thought a change of scenery would make him a new person, one much more alike to who he truly was.

Sometimes talking to someone isn't enough, because you don't think they'll understand, you know they won't. That's why I never said anything about the deepest desires looming in my heart or the biggest fears that tied me down for as long as I can remember.

All the interrogations running leaps around his mind made him walk faster, filling him with the same dreadful excitement he felt every first day of school, one that mixed with nervousness and fear.

He wasn't sure if starting fresh would let him be someone whose fears didn't weigh upon his heart so harshly, he wasn't sure if he would get to be the person he had always wished he could be but he could only hope.

Hope had been what drove him this far and today he was giving it full control of where his feet moved to, control over how his next day would look like or where he would wake up the next day.

Never in his life had he felt more ready to wander around by himself.

But I guess, since I'm going, it's only fair that I try to sit down and talk to someone, hoping that they will understand even if my words are scarce and there will be nobody to talk back to at the end of this letter.

On the horizon the sun rushed to slumber, leaving a comforting lilac pooling around the clouds and making them stand out even more.

Night hovered over his shoulders making him breathe with much more ease because if there was something that portrayed hope and tomorrow with an uncanny resemblance and lack of effort, it was the night sky with its endless stars and its shining moon.

In his childhood days he had discovered that there was no better cure for uncertainty and a nostalgic heart than staring up at the night sky; there was something about it that made him feel like time stopped for an instance, that time wasn't quite as unforgiving while the veil of darkness covered everything.

If he could go anywhere he wanted —which he was already doing— he would wish to go to the sky, not the endless and uncertain space, but the idea of the sky that humans have in their ignorance, a canvas that goes no further than our eyes can see.

Ever since I can remember I've felt like there was a place for me somewhere out there, a place I always called home without knowing what it really was.

It wasn't like I didn't feel at home here, there was just a feeling in my chest that told me out there I could feel completely free in the way I've always craved.

For him it had always felt unfair, how everyone got to live and walk around without the things that kept him back. Of course when he grew older he understood that everyone had their own problems but sometimes that was easy to ignore when one's own darkness loomed around their heart.

He had spent many years wishing, praying to whoever was listening, that he could just be himself without the voices in his head and the uncertainties that made every single one of his steps be cautious.

Nobody seemed to have listened as years went by and things got harder, still, he never gave up and even though he could never really say that there was nothing else bothering him he could at least say that he had everything under control.

If time is unforgiving it also is healing, and for him it had healed many wounds that couldn't be seen.

Unknowingly I spent a lot of time wanting to go to that place, craving to find where it was.

Some years ago I understood that it perhaps wasn't a place but a version of myself that could bring such soothing feelings. That's where I'm going to, that's why I have no destination.

He wanted to believe that nothing had been planned, that his savings carefully stuffed at the bottom of his backpack had just been him being responsible about his money and having enough for the impulsiveness that one day had won over reason and had driven him to this adventure.

He wanted to pretend but it was stupid to do now, there was nobody around to judge him or question his motives, so there was no use in not being honest with himself.

Thinking back to all those evenings spent running around the small restaurant in which he had found a job, he could see that perhaps this plan had been many years in the making.

Unconsciously he had always been hoping for a moment like this, a moment of unadulterated freedom.

Hopefully I do get there, hopefully I get to be happy and everyone I left behind does too.

The journey to happiness, to authenticity, to being unapologetically himself, had taken him to the airport, another thing that wasn't as spontaneous as he had tried to make it seem.

Passport in hand and trembling self, the whiteness of the place and the various people walking back and forth made him realise that this was really going on, he was really leaving.

For the first time in his life overthinking had no place in his plans.

I wish to be who I am meant to and disappearing was perhaps the thing I had always been destined to do. A boy who disappeared into thin air, that's who I am, a boy with secrets that weigh down on my heart and that I'm unwilling to carry with me on this journey.

Approaching the desk he was met with a young woman, in her mid twenties or early thirties, sweet but practised smile covering her lips as she recited the words that he must've learned a long time ago when she first started working there.

"I want a ticket for the next flight available," Jisung said, offering a reassuring smile after the confused look the woman gave him.

He looked around as the sounds of typing filled his ears and before he had time to start regretting something the ticket had been placed on his palm and his savings were short by a considerable amount.

I'm afraid that wasn't much of an explanation but it was my truth.

Good luck and see you whenever we're meant to cross paths.

The last thing he saw before falling asleep were the clouds from above and the sky now completely dark like the many nights he had wondered where he belonged.

Now he had an answer, he belonged wherever he felt free and right then in that comfortable plane seat he felt the freest he had ever been.

#kpop #skz fanfic #skz fanfiction #stray kids #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids fic #skz imagines #stray kids imagines #skz angst #skz comfort #skz han #skz jisung #stray kids han #stray kids jisung #han angst

[fangirl-ramblings]

Pairing: Arthur x gn!reader

Characters: Reader, Simon Pearson, Mary Linton, Arthur Morgan

Word count: 3306

Summary: You and Arthur have recently made your relationship official by moving into his tent...but is he really into you...or is he still holding onto his past?

Notes: SFW, Angst leading to fluff

After requesting several wonderful stories from one of my favourite writers and people, I was super honoured to have the chance to be able to write something for the super talented and lovely @littlestarofthewest -  Merry Christmas from your secret santa 😘😘

Also a huge thank you to @horsegirl1h (who helped me plot this out) @verai-marcel (for wrangling in all my stupid grammatical mistakes) & @mileycyprus-hill who took a quick look over this and gave me a much better character note on how to improve Arthur's feelings in this story and give me a far better title I could ever think of myself. Thank you all 😘

~* Tumblr Masterlist | Stories on AO3 *~

The First Shall Be Forgotten

You slowly opened your eyes, only to find the cot next to you still empty. It was fairly late when you'd finally taken yourself off to bed last night, but you had found yourself unable to keep your eyes open as you'd sat around the scout fire. Your hope of Arthur riding back into camp and joining you in lying down for the night had turned into a wishful dream of waking up with his strong arms wrapped around you, but it turns out it was just that - merely a pleasant dream. 

It was only a few months since you'd started dating, with most of that time spent being inseparable, but lately you noticed that Arthur was staying away from camp longer and longer. Yes - the events of Blackwater had changed the gang's luck and the likes of Dutch and Strauss kept giving Arthur more and more tasks to do, but you'd felt like that most of these jobs could be done well before nightfall. Surely Arthur wasn't avoiding you because he was bored of you already….could he?

You sat upright, shaking your head free of any more of those nasty thoughts, quickly making the decision that you should get dressed and help out around camp before Miss Grimshaw marched over to berate you for wasting so much time idling about.

There was a chill floating in the air this morning in camp and so you found yourself shivering as you looked around for your light jacket. Opening your shared trunk, you proceeded to pile a mixture of both yours and Arthur's clothes on to the cot in your quest to find your missing coat. Though you soon found yourself distracted as you lifted one of Arthur's shirts up, tutting to yourself as you saw just how worn and dirt stained they all were. You swore that that man would wear these offending items until they fell apart on him...and some were close to doing so, judging by how often they'd been patched up.

   "Ah, there you are," Pearson's cheerful voice booming from behind you, making you jump out of your skin, "I need a helping hand gathering supplies in town and was wondering if you could come along with me for the ride"

   "Me? Surely there's someone more capable about?" Although Valentine was only a short ride away, the idea of being Mr. Pearson's captive audience for that short length of time was not high on your list of priorities for the day. 

   "Well, I don't know if you noticed but we are stretched a little thin on the ground right now," his hands gesturing to the almost empty camp area in front of you, "Mr. Smith & Mr. Escuella are yet to return from Blackwater with young Sean and, as you well know, Mr. Morgan is still yet to return from wherever he has took himself off to. As for the girls..." you tried to stifle a chuckle as he trailed off to glance nervously over at where Tilly, Mary-Beth and Karen were currently sitting at their wagon, making sure they couldn't hear this conversation, "...I'd rather not ask them. Uncle told me of the trouble they got up to on their last visit into Valentine."

You couldn't help but burst out laughing at Pearson's fear of trying to keep three excited young women from creating chaos. "Sorry, sorry," you apologised, wiping your eyes as he looked at you with confusion, "Well...since you have no other options, I'll join you. I've been wanting to pick Arthur up a new shirt anyways." Spotting your jacket at the bottom of the truck, you quickly threw it on, leaving all the other clothes heaped on the bed, "Shall we go now then?"

"Goddamit, why does there have to be a train in the station?" you grumbled as Pearson pulled the horses to a stop at the crossing, which was blocked by one of the carriages belonging to the offending train. After being waylaid by the shop boy slowly loading the wagon with all the goods Pearson had chosen for camp - not that any of these ingredients would do much to improve his cooking, you cruelly thought to yourself - your head was starting to ache from listening to Pearson's constant tall tales. All you had wanted to do was get back to camp and sleep off your headache, but that didn't seem to be happening anytime soon, thanks to this stupid train.

   "I know what you mean, I was hoping to get back and make a start on preparing supper," Pearson sighed before suddenly cheering up, "But, hey, at least it gives me more time to tell you about my time at sea. There was this other time..."

Internally, you found yourself groaning, trying to zone out the older man as he recounted yet another story, that this time seemed to involve him somehow, inexplicably fighting a walrus -  single-handedly -  to save his crew.

You glanced around, finding yourself admiring all the different horses hitched up around the station...until a familiar sight caught your eye.

   "Hey isn't that Brutus?" you interrupted Pearson mid-sentence, gesturing towards the big, black Shire horse that Hosea had gifted Arthur a few weeks ago. Arthur had rarely named his horses after losing his beloved Boudicca in Blackwater and was more than content to just refer to this one as "Boy", but after overhearing Hosea called this giant a brute, you'd jokingly suggested the name Brutus, a name that had tickled Arthur and agreed it was the perfect name for this beast.

Put out a little by the fact you had rudely interrupted him just as the story was getting good, Pearson grudgingly glanced over to the direction in which you were pointing.

   "Er, it does look like it. So anyway after I killed the Walrus with nothing but my bare hands…" 

   'So this is where you've gotten to Morgan,' you thought to yourself, once again not listening to Pearson's story. 'Here's hoping you're on your way home too.'

Smiling to yourself that your lover would hopefully be by your side once more, you absent-mindedly found yourself scanning the crowd of people that was starting to thin out as they slowly stepped onto the carriages...until you saw him standing with his back to you.

A smile started to creep over your face as you recognised Arthur's dirty blond hair, broad frame and filthy blue shirt. Just the fact you could see how dirty it was from this distance made you glad that you'd made the decision to buy him a new one now, as that one needed throwing out, never mind a good wash. Anybody would think that man spent most of his time rolling around in the mud than riding a horse around.

With his hands on his gun belt, he shifted his weight to one side and the smile on your face was replaced with a look of confusion as a young lady was revealed to be standing next to him, deep in an intimate conversation.

Unconsciously scowling at her, you were unable to shake the feeling that you've seen her somewhere before, but for the life of you, you couldn't quite place where.

You squinted your eyes to try and focus your vision on her delicate features before a feeling of rage bubbled up from your stomach as she kissed Arthur's cheek, in a way that suggested more than just friendship.

"And I'll tell you - I used that walrus meat to feed a crew of 50...and not one of them complained the way you and the rest of camp do about my cooking" Pearson waffled on down your ear, distracting you from your thoughts about this mysterious woman and how you wanted to jump down and throttle her. Instead you suddenly had the urge to wrap your hands around the cook's neck. 

Turning to face him, you barked, "Maybe being at sea for weeks at end with no food makes people more appreciative of the slop you always manage to serve up - no matter the ingredients." 

You instantly felt regret as the words left your mouth and you saw the hurt in the older man's eyes.

   "Christ, I'm sorry Mr. Pearson. I didn’t mean to take it out on you..." You paused, thinking about telling him about what you just saw, but you doubted this old sea dog would give a damn about your love life and so explained "I just have a real bad headache and it's put me in a bad mood."

He nodded softly and turned away so you wouldn't see him wipe the sting of the tears from his eyes.

Feeling guilty from the hurt you just caused, you looked away to the source of your own pain, only to find Arthur had disappeared from the platform and the train was now pulling out the station. Had he gotten on board with his mystery woman? Gone off to start a new life with her and left you and the outlaw life behind him? These thoughts rattled around your head as Pearson told the horses to giddy up and the pair of you headed back to camp in an awkward silence.

Jumping down from the wagon, you helped Pearson unload the wagon - still with an uneasy tension in the air, before you tried to broker the peace between you both by offering to help prepare the next meal as a peace offering.

   "No, it's quite okay," Pearson patted you shoulder to show there was no hard feelings, "You go sleep off that sore head of yours"

You nodded appreciatively, finding yourself thanking him and apologising once more as you picked up the wrapped parcel containing Arthur's new shirt, and headed back to your tent. 

As you walked over, you rolled your eyes in annoyance at yourself as you caught sight of the mess you'd left behind this morning. Picking the mountain of clothes up, you threw them in straight at the trunk at the end of the cot, surprising yourself as you heard a loud clatter of something hitting the side of the chest and then dropping onto the floor.

Peering over, you saw that a few shirts and a pair of trousers had missed their target and were now scattered over the floor... alongside a wooden photoframe, laying face down on the ground, that definitely wasn't there before.

Picking it up, you recognised the image of a younger, but still very handsome version of Arthur standing on the left.

'You've always been a good-looking bastard haven't you?' half smiling as you took in his handsome features, 'No wonder you have a long list of admirers to spend all your time instead of me.'

Well before you and Arthur had started dating, you had seen this photograph before. You recalled picking it up from his bedside table back then too, in order to get a closer look of how attractive Arthur's always been.

But sometime between then and making your relationship official, Arthur must have removed it and hidden it out of sight from you. Just as you were about to ask yourself why, you spotted who else was in the picture.

   'No…no it can't be,' you thought to yourself as you stared at the beautiful, dark haired woman standing next to him in the image. But, as much as you didn’t want it to be, it certainly was. Looking straight back at you was a younger version of the same woman from the train station…the same woman who had ripped Arthur's heart out and tore it into a million pieces all those years ago when she called off their engagement - Mary.

Time seemed to slow down as your mind went into overdrive. Did he simply remove the picture as a thoughtful gesture so you wouldn't wake up to a younger Arthur and his ex-fiancee looking at you…or did he hide it because he still loved her and her alone? Were you just a stopgap - something to fill the emptiness in his heart until she came back to him? Is that the real reason Arthur had hidden the picture and not gotten rid of it completely? So once he had managed to win her back, he could toss you aside and place it once more on his bedside to stare lovingly at while he held her in his arms?

You hadn’t realise you were crying or just how hard you were gripping the frame until you heard the sudden sound of glass cracking and a mix of your blood and tears began to streak all over her stupid, perfect face. Standing frozen to the spot, you stared and stared at her image, slowly disappearing under the physical manifestations of your hurt and betrayal, until you heard Arthur bellow out your name as he rode back into camp.

   "Hey you. Boy, did I sure miss you while I was gone," he cheerfully greeted you as he strode towards you, "I tell you, there's some strange sights out there that I've been dyin' to tell you all 'bout."

   "Tell me?" you snarled, acting the wounded animal you currently felt like, "Don't you have other people you'd rather spend your time with?"

   "What? What's got into you?" 

Your heart panged as you saw the hurt cross his face as he saw how upset you were. 

"Listen, if this 'bout me spendin' so much time from camp recently, then I am sorry - but I did miss you somethin' fierce y'know" he assured you, placing his arms around your waist.

   "Just like you've missed Mary for all these years?" Just saying her name out loud felt like you had tasted venom on your lips and needed to quickly spit it out.

"Mary? Where's all this comin' from?" He flustered, averting his eyes downwards as not to meet your steely gaze. Upon seeing you holding the photograph, he exclaimed, "Christ alive, you're bleedin'. Here lemme fix you up."

"I'm fine," you snapped at him, pulling your hand away from his gentle touch. Any other time, this small act of affection - the big mean outlaw gently cradling your hand in his - would have made you melt on the spot, but today your inner rage wasn't having any of it. Instead you blurted out, "I saw you. At the train station…with her."

Realising he had been caught out and couldn't bluff his way out of this sorry mess, he sat down on the cot and tried to explain.

   "Okay, yeah, I was at the train station with her, but it really ain't what you think…"

   "I saw her kiss you."

  "You mean when she kissed my cheek? That was her sayin' goodbye. Her and her brother are headin' back East to find their father."

You sat next to him, the photograph still in your hands.

   "Still doesn't explain why you were with her in the first place."

   "No it doesn't, does it." He sighed, running his hand down his face. "I was on my way back to camp, ridin' through Valentine when I thought I'd check and see if there was any post. Lo' and behold there was just the one - a letter from Mary askin' if I could help with a small problem of hers."

   "So you must have been in contact with her if she knew you were in town."

He shook his head. "No. No, she'd recognised the girls after their last trip into town and wrote to me on the off-chance I was also in the area."

   "Why?"

"Her kid brother, Jamie, he'd gone and got himself mixed up in this weird cult up in Cumberland Forest. Christ, you shoulda seen them all listenin' on as this lunatic spouted some nonsense about turtles or somethin'," laughing, he patted his leg until he saw your stony expression still waiting for the answer to your question.

   "Get to the point please, Arthur."

   "You're right, sorry," he said as he nodded, "Jamie was the only one in her family who stood up for me and I owed it to *him*, not Mary, him -  to help get him away from those crazy fools."

You fidgeted slightly next to him. You wanted to believe him, but he seemed to be avoiding the main topic of conversation.

   "So say I believe you about your reasonings for helping her…why did you keep a picture of her?"

Silence filled the air for a second before he simply answered. "I shoved it in there so you wouldn't have to keep lookin' at it when we lay together...and I guess I forgot all 'bout it."

You looked away as more tears fell down your cheeks. Gently placing his hand under your chin, Arthur turned your face to face his, looking deep into your eyes he told you, 

   "You’re overthinking – I’m yours. That’s all I want to be.”

   "Prove it." You pleaded.

   "Okay then...this should show you she's nothin' to me now." He took the broken frame from your grasp and carefully removed the picture from the frame, lingering for a moment before crumpling it up in his hand and walking towards the campfire.

Though his stride was purposeful, you couldn't help but feel he faltered once more as he looked at the flames, but those fears disappeared as he turned to look back at you with a warmth in his eyes and a smile stretching wide across his face. Looking straight at you, his hand opened and the picture fell into the flames, where it lay for a few moments as it slowly rendered into nothing but a pile of ashes.

Making his way back over to you, he picked you up and spun you around his arms.

   "I'm all yours...are you mine?"

Bonus scene: Arthur's POV

He slowly removed the picture from the frame, partly being careful not to cut himself on broken shards of glass and partly because he wanted to make sure he was making the right decision. He was convinced that after Mary called it all off between them, he'd never smile, let alone love again. But then you'd walked into his life and brought light back into the darkness he'd found himself in.

But maybe there was a reason he'd held on to this photograph for all this time - a reminder of the good times that existed between them. Heartbreak has a funny way of erasing those memories, but seeing the woman you once considered the love of your life in person has an equally funny way of making those feelings rush back.

But no, the heartache he'd felt for all these years outweighed the fleeting moments of happiness he'd felt with Mary. And that kiss on the cheek to say goodbye that she'd given him at the train station? It certainly didn't give him butterflies like it used too. Looking at her image one last time, he crumpled it up and walked over to the campfire.

Though he had confidently strode over to flames, he once more had doubts he was right to finally let Mary go. Turning to face you, everything suddenly became very clear in Arthur's mind. Everything he ever wanted: someone who loved the group of people he considered family, as well as loving him for the man he was - despite his faults, someone who was willing to stick with him through thick and thin, make him laugh when he was down, and never fail to make him smile, that special someone he wanted to grow old with with...he already had that with you.

Without thinking, he opened his hand and let the battered photograph waft downwards, enveloped by the flames and turning to nothingness as he made his way back over to you, picking you up and spinning you around his arms.

   "I'm all yours...are you mine?"

#arthur morgan x reader #rdr2 fanfic #merry christmas #(i hope this copied over correctly 🙈🤣) #rdr secret santa 2020 #secret santa gift

[getitinbusan]

10 years with Jungkook

California

You met Jeon Jeongguk in the summer of 2012. Two kids brought together by a calling to California and a chance at making it big. Best friends from the start, what happens when only one of you becomes successful? Do you ever forget your first love? 

Childhood friends to lovers, angst and smut.

Words:  4600

Warnings: 18 plus smut. Oral F, Sex MF, Swearing. Pretty Mild for me. This is a previously posted fic that has been updated and reworked.

It was a rare rainy August day in California. The heavy drops created a sad melody on the window as you put the dishes away. Tired and lonely, the feeling in your gut kept nagging at you, maybe it was time to give up. 

The savings account was drained, there were no jobs to be found and  this was the second month of falling short on rent. Surely it would only be a matter of time before your roommates would stop exchanging house cleaning for money. 

Hanging the threadbare towel over its hook you stood in the kitchen, your mood mirroring the dim light of the afternoon. Feeling frusterated and stupid, it had taken you way longer than it should have to realize that in LA, you were nothing. Not pretty enough, rich enough, skinny enough or talented enough to ever make it big. So this is how the great Califonia chapter of your life would end, not by choice but necessity. 

Gathering up the mail that was strewn across the countertop, you shuffled through it sorting its priority. Junk mail, bills, personal…one in particular standing out. Your heart began pounding as you took in the details.

The penmanship was nice, black ink on an unassuming envelope. But it was the stamp that caught your attention. It was sent from Korea.

Flipping it in your hand you examined the torn top. The letter, having been read, was cradled back safely inside. Addressed to your roommate a frown crept onto your face. Why wouldn’t he write to you?

It was a ridiculously hopeful notion but you widened the envelope and inhaled trying to find a trace of his fragrance, something, anything to trigger a happy memory. Cool California nights were the best excuse. How many times had you borrowed his sweaters just to have his smell on you?

You missed him. It had been a year and a half and you couldn't help but once again ponder the nagging question that always crept back. If you hadn't forced him to break the rules would he still be a part of your life? 

It was too tempting to resist, your fingers pinched the paper inside of the envelope and pulled it free. 

I’m feeling low, I don’t know who I am, only who I’m supposed to be.

What would life be like if I had stayed in California? We could all be roommates, hanging out and having fun, going to the beach on weekends.

Does she even think about me?

It sounds greedy that with how much I have right now, it’s not enough. I would give anything to wake up in bed beside her everyday. I want more than anything to be able to talk to her about these things but I can’t. I’ve made the mistake of trading her for fame and now I’m destined to keep her at an arm’s length so she’ll never know the price I paid.

How does she even see me? As an Idol? As the boy who abandoned her? Has she forgotten the good days we spent together?

I’ve been wrestling with myself, whoever that is. I wish I could be the teenage boy from that long ago summer again. I wrote this song thinking about it…

~When I see you smile in the screen

You’re good at everything

You’re just perfect

Feels like I've never been you

Do you even see me?

Do you know who I am?

Or how do I look now?

You don’t like me like that

I want to be your decalcomania~

I’m afraid I may not get back for a while, please write. Your friendship and thoughts of her are the only things that are keeping me tethered to some semblance of reality.

JK

Clutching the letter to your chest, your mind took you back to that day. 

"Decalcomania, the art or process of transferring pictures and designs. Making a copy of the original on a different medium"  

Reading the description on the wall you’d both stood laughing at the piece's strange name, Decalcomania. The gallery visit felt like lifetimes ago but you still remembered clearly. You remembered, not because the piece had struck you as particularly special but because that's where you had decided that Jeongguk's laugh was the best sound you'd ever heard.  

California had lured you into its promise when you turned 14. Having been accepted to an  intensive dance program at The Movement Lifestyle Studio you packed up and headed West for the summer. 

It was July and it was hot, the dancers stepping off the bus one at a time took their places in the studio.

Looking around there were so many older kids, you were probably one of the youngest. Calling out names they put you into groups, it appeared to be by age so you made your way across the unfamiliar wooden floor to the tiny gathering of teens in the darkened corner.

Shy introductions were made as one more member was ushered over to where you had congregated. “This is Jeongguk.” 

He had the cutest smile and barely spoke english but his eyes twinkled like the constellations. Immediately drawn to each other you became fast friends.

Absolutely exhausted by the end of the first few days he quietly knocked at your door.

He was homesick and lonely, used to being surrounded by his six members, he couldn’t sleep well without someone beside him. You let him crawl into bed with you, you were 14 and it was innocent. 

Inseparable, days and nights were spent side by side, the others began referring to you as the twins. It was the best summer of your life but like every boy meets girl summer story, it had to come to a close. Promising through tears to keep in touch and stay friends you went your separate ways. 

Jeongguk would send silly videos of his practice sessions, goofing around with the other members.  He’d facetime and text but he always loved to send handwritten letters.

They lived in a box under your bed and contained stories of how hard he was working to become an idol. He always signed off with, "I miss you,” and a few lines of lyrics he’d written.

You didn’t know then how important they would become, the only tangible piece of him you could still hold on to.  

Whenever he came back to America you did everything you could to see him. You always found a way to get to the small tour stops whenever they came through. 2015 was the first, then KCon in 2016, but 2017, it was different.

Facetiming you with the news that they were bringing the Wings tour to NY, Chicago and Anaheim, he asked if you’d be part of the dance crew. How could you turn down two weeks with Jungkook the hottest new K-pop Idol? They were getting bigger, more popular and their lives were changing rapidly.

He had strict rules, girls were completely off limits. No talking, no hugging, no smiling at one another, any little thing could be easily misconstrued by the fans. Everything had to be done in secret. Jungkook would sneak you into his hotel room where you would spend your nights together catching up. The boys would bring you in food and cover for him while you both stayed locked away out of sight.

While happy to be with him, you could tell there was an underlying sadness he was holding on to.

"I wish I could go and explore the city with you like we used to," his voice trailed off.

You were laying in each other’s arms cuddling on his bed.  Leaning over he kissed the top of your head.

"All I really want is to take you on a proper date."

You snuggled closer into his side as he exhaled deeply, releasing his secret. 

"I’ve been waiting so long to become someone, a man worthy of your affection. Now I’m stuck. I have everything I wanted and I’m not allowed to share it with you."

His arms gripped you tighter.

"I’m sorry, this is a terrible confession. I don’t expect you to love me back, not under these circumstances, I just need you to know, you’re the only girl I’ve ever loved and there won’t be anybody else, ever." 

Every bit of his confession, every moment of that last night in the hotel room had stuck with you to this day. The words of a 19 year old boy whose life had become bigger than the feelings of two people.

He'd left in the morning without knowing. You were a coward, too afraid to tell him you loved him too.  

LA became your home right after they left Anaheim. Focused on your dancing, if you became good enough, maybe you could join the tour with him. 

A letter with a big bouquet of flowers arrived a few weeks later. 

"Congratulations on your new house in LA!

I hope that all of you are getting along as roommates, it’s hard living with others sometimes.

Last night I dreamt that I was there with you and all of our friends. We were having a party on the beach and we sat together watching the sunset.

Do you remember after practice when we would skateboard as fast as we could to the ocean so we wouldn’t miss the colors?

Maybe one day my toes can feel the sand there again.

I miss you, I miss me… the me I am when I get to be with you.

We're coming back in October for a few days and I’m hoping I can see you, I’m lonely already.   

Jeongguk

~Won’t you please stay in dreams

I can hear the sea from far away

Across the dream, over the bush

Go there where it becomes clear

Take my hands now

You are the cause of my euphoria

When I’m with you, I’m in utopia~

By the time The AMAs came, the plan had been finalized. You would steal Jungkook away so that you could take him on your first real date.

Having enlisted Namjoon to help, he was your inside man. The boys, happy to help finally get you together, would cover for his whereabouts with management. The day before the awards they were only scheduled for styling, as long as he wasn’t late for the press rounds the next afternoon your plan could work.

It was Namjoon’s job to get him out of the building. Telling him to follow his lead, Joon convinced the managers that Jungkook must have eaten something bad for lunch. Claiming to not feel well, he was whisked away to meet you at the hotel’s back receiving door. 

Sitting in the shiny red rented convertible you tossed him a pair of sunglasses. What you wouldn’t give now to see that smile again.

Barely giving him time to get in you’d sped away heading straight for In And Out Burger.

"Kookie, I hope you’re ready for the best day of your life! We’re going to eat until we explode, drink and party at the beach and then, instead of returning you to your fancy 5 star hotel you’re staying the night in my crappy little house with a tiny uncomfortable bed!!"

He laughed, that perfect laugh. It was so pure and honest, thinking about it now made you sad. Was that the last moment he'd gotten to be his true self? Jeongguk the man not Jungkook the personna? 

Knowing you only had one day to give him everything, one day to show him you loved him, you tried to make the best of it.

Picking up the food Jungkook held onto the red and white bags in the passenger seat, sneaking his hand in to steal fries when he thought you weren’t looking. If you weren’t sure you were in love with him before you you certainly were now.

Pulling up beside the tree on the beach he was stunned, "Ahhh Jagi, I can’t believe you brought me here."

Happy that it meant as much to him as it did to you, you both sat on the branch and ate. Two blocks from the old studio this used to be your escape. Every break you’d make your way to the tree for some time alone, together. 

With the burgers done he turned to you and smiled. It felt like he wanted to say something, but stupidly, you'd cut him short leading him back towards the car.

Making your way through your checklist you brought him back to where you'd first met. The Movement studios students were starstruck when he walked in. After insisting that he teach some choreography, he reluctantly led the class.

Your eyes were glued to him as he moved in front of the mirrors, no longer that awkward teenager but a full grown man mesmerizing you with his every move.

Getting back to the car he stopped you before you reached for the handle. Putting his arms around you he pulled you in close. But again, you resisted him. 

"You stink Jungkook, our next stop is the ocean."

You remember pulling away. How stupid you were, you should have held on to him longer. Reaching into the back seat you revealed a pair of swim shorts and a towel. He looked disappointed that you kept interrupting his attempts at intimacy. It broke your heart but you had a plan and limited time to execute it. 

The Ocean was chilly but the wind was warm, he came out of the change room with the shorts on but still wearing his shirt.

"Kookie, this isn’t Korea, you don’t have to be so modest here. Plus, you should grab some sun, you may not believe it but when your skin is sunkissed," you grinned, "you look really sexy."

He raised his eyebrows and quickly removed the shirt at your request.

Running into the water you splashed and played and he took great pleasure in picking you up and throwing you as far as he could.

The sun was getting ready to set and you wanted to dry off before the cooler air set in.

Leading him back to the shore you both laid down on the towel. He put his arm around you and you cuddled into his side.

"My god Guk, look at your abs!"

He blushed like crazy as you traced the muscles on his stomach.

"Stop, it tickles," he giggled.

But you didn’t, you kept tickling him until he held you so tight you couldn’t move. He had you pinned, flipping you on your back he shook his wet hair flinging water droplets all over you. Pleased with himself he leaned in closer to you, his eyes asking for permission to kiss you. As the gap between you got narrower you could hear his name being shouted and footsteps running closer. He flopped onto his back and sighed as your roommates and friends piled on top of him.

Eating, drinking and catching up with everyone you watched each other from across the bonfire. Moving from person to person he slowly made his way back to your side.

"Welcome back." Running your hand through the back of his hair, it was now or never. 

Pulling him closer your lips finally met in the way they were destined, soft, slow and full of love. His hands instinctively moved to cup your face as the world stopped around you.

"I love you," you whispered.

Nose to nose he smiled at you and it was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen.

It didn’t last long, his phone started going off incessantly. The managers knew, you’d been careless, photos and videos of him from the studio had been posted online.

"I’m so sorry Jungkook, I didn’t mean for you to get in trouble."

His eyes turned hungry as he grabbed your hand.

"You promised I wouldn’t be going back to my hotel tonight, let’s get out of here."

If he was going to get in trouble anyway, why stop now?  

The drive back to your place was quiet, adrenaline and hormones flowing like electricity through you both. The time for smiling was over as the seriousness of the situation lingered in the air between you.

It wasn’t just being in trouble or being caught, but the fact that you both knew what was going to happen when you stepped into your bedroom. One act that would change everything between you, it held the power to change the dynamic of your relationship forever.

Leading him to your room you closed the door and stood staring at him as he sat on your bed. He raked his fingers through his hair before he spoke.

"I’ve never wanted anything more in my life than to be able to make love to you. BUT I also know that when I leave I’m not going to get to see you again for a very long time." His head hung low. "Management is going to do everything possible to keep us apart and that won’t be fair to you. I think that maybe we should just let our happy memories of today be enough, I don’t want you to regret anything. " 

Walking closer you stood between his legs and he wrapped his arms around your waist.

"The only thing I'll regret is never getting to experience all of you. I can’t live not knowing how it feels to be totally yours even if it's only for one night."

He rested his head against your chest, "You’ll always be mine."

His hands traveled to the hem of your shirt and his fingers ran over the soft skin of your stomach. Undoing the button of your jeans he slowly slid them down your legs and you stepped out of them. 

Standing up he lifted the thin fabric of your shirt over your head and you stood before him waiting as he took his off too. Unclasping your bra he sighed as he looked at you taking in your shape, his fingertips hovering over your hard nipples.

"I’ve never done this before," he confessed.

"Me either," you whispered. "I've only ever wanted it to be you."

More relaxed he let his mouth start exploring your body. You were goosebumps and shivers beneath him as his tongue found it’s home between your legs.

He was soft and careful, placing his lips over your clit sucking it in delicately until your moans couldn’t be contained any longer. You could feel his eyes burning into you as he watched in awe as his finger slid inside you.

"It feels good Kookie, please…"

You could feel his mouth stopping to smile before he picked up speed. Moving your hips to eagerly meet his mouth you were unravelling quickly.

"The way you taste is better than anything I had imagined."

Devouring you in sessions between his words of adoration you came hard on his tongue. 

"I'm really regretting running you all over town today when we could have just been here...doing that.. " You were out of breath. 

"I was worried that I wouldn't be any good." He grinned at you pleased with himself. 

Moving up to where your head lay on the pillow he pushed the dampened hair off your face, "Are you ok? Do you need anything?"

He placed his forehead against yours.

"I just want you. I need you to know I'm yours, forever. 

Rolling a condom on he moved slowly to line himself up with your entrance.

"Tell me if you need me to stop okay?"

He pushed carefully, slowly stretching you around him. Watching intently for discomfort he froze when he saw the tears welling in your eyes.

"Shit, I’m so sorry, let’s stop, I didn’t mean to hurt you." He was apologetic as he thumbed away the tears.

"No," you delicately kissed his lips. "I’m okay… I’m just so happy, so overwhelmed with how much I’m feeling right now."

He smiled down at you, pressing his body closer he gave another push until he was fully inside. Your bodies fell into a beautifully choreographed rhythm until Jungkook was so lost in pleasure he began to move at his own pace. Quicker and deeper he moved until he finally spilled into the condom. 

Laying together in euphoria you kissed, and kissed, and kissed until you finally found sleep while wrapped around one other.

Every few hours he’d wake you up. His hands running over your body checking to make sure you weren't just a dream. You’d made love each time, everytime better than the last.

It was 9 am when he caressed you awake once more.

"I have to leave soon. I don’t want to." He spoke in whispers nestled into your neck. "Please tell me to stay."

Your heart broke at his words. "If I ask you to stay, I’m selfish, you’ll always wonder if you made the right decision." The tears came, knowing you had to do what was right. "If I tell you to go, your dreams come true… ” your voice trailed off.

"And I’ll always wonder if I made the right decision,” he finished. 

Your phone started ringing and you knew time was up.

It was Joon, "I’m outside. Sorry, I held them off as long as I could. I told them that I’d come get him so you could at least have time to say goodbye."

Your tears fell out in heavy ugly sobs, "Okay, five minutes… and Joon… thanks, I know you’re probably in trouble too."

Hanging up you turned back, Jungkook was already out of bed with his clothes thrown on. He stood with open arms bravely waiting. 

"Thank you for yesterday I'll never forget it."

Laying your head against his chest you took a moment to listen to his heartbeat. You could hear him sniffle and knew he was crying too.

You flashed back remembering that night long ago when he came to you homesick, holding you so he could sleep while he tried to hide his tears. There was a knock at the door and Namjoon’s voice broke through the moment.

"We’ve got to go Jungkook."

Stepping away you’d left his shirt soaked in tears, handing him his sweater he pushed it back towards you. "You keep it."

He kissed you one last time before opening the door to reveal Namjoon's weary face. His Hyung put his arm around his shoulder and led him to the car.

Turning one last time he looked back, his eyes were filled with tears as he gave a small wave before getting in the back of the big black sedan. 

For months you pretended that management was the only thing keeping you apart.

You held on to that silly notion until May when they were coming for the Billboard awards. For weeks leading up you waited for a message, a secret meeting arrangement, but you got nothing. His image was all over the TV and his voice echoed through your empty heart. Then, just like that, it was over and he was gone again. 

Now, here you stood in your kitchen, his letter bringing him to the forefront of your mind and opening old wounds.

He was just as sad as you but what could you do? 

Picking up a pen you began writing… 

I shouldn’t have done it but I read it in your letter

You said to a friend that you wish you were doing better

I wanted to reach out but I never said a thing

You don’t ever have to be stronger than you really are

And honey, you don’t ever have to act cooler than you think you should

You’re brighter than the brightest stars

You’re scared to win, scared to lose

I’ve heard the war was over if you really choose

The one in and around you

You hate the heat, you got the blues

You’re changing like the weather, oh, that’s so like you

I’ll pick you up

I’ll catch you on the flipside

If you come back to California

We’ll do whatever you want, travel wherever, how far

We’ll hit up all the old places

We’ll have a party, we can dance till dawn… 

Y/N

October came again and a chill was in the air, the smell of the ocean hit your nose and you stopped to take it in.

Bundled in Jungkook’s hoodie you threw your bag over your shoulder and began your walk to work. You'd gotten lucky, Movement had hired you just as you were about to give up and leave California. Filled with hope and excitement a new intensive program was scheduled to start today and you were going to meet the future superstars of the dance world. 

Memories flooded your mind as you made your way through the familiar neighborhood. It still hurt, but things were beginning to feel happy again. Writing the letter had given you closure, he knew how you felt and beyond that there was nothing else you could do.

Opening the heavy door to the studio you caught a familiar reflection moving in the mirror.  Chalk marker in hand he was writing something, It couldn’t be?

Hearing the door click back into place he turned to face you.

"Hi."

He walked towards you slowly. Unsure of what your reaction would be, he approached with caution.

"Hi."

You were breathless, in the months of not seeing him he’d only grown more handsome.

"I can’t change what happened… and for the rest of my life I’ll be sorry for all of the time we missed."

He was getting closer.

"But I can’t take another day not knowing if I can fix this… somehow…"

He reached for your hand but you pulled it away. His head fell in disappointment.

"Jungkook, I can’t listen to this… look at me."

Reaching for his chin you pulled his head up until he was facing you again.

"I refuse to listen to you apologize for something that is out of your control. Your life was decided before you met me and I am nothing but grateful that I got to appear in some part of your story."

He tilted his head and pressed a small kiss into the hand that was still holding his chin.

"God I’ve missed you." He wrapped his arms tightly around your waist.

"How long are you here? I’ve got to teach class.. It’s the first day but I’d love it if we could catch up?"

He laughed at you and your knees buckled at the sound of his happiness.

Taking his chance he pressed his lips to yours and you could feel the smile forming on his face.

"I’m your private lesson Jagi, I’ve booked you for the next two weeks."

Taking a step back you had to ask, "How Jungkook? What will you be giving up?"

Pulling you back to his embrace he began to dance with you.

"There is no more giving up, on anything. Our contracts were over and I only had one thing I wouldn’t negotiate on, that’s you." 

He guided you to look at the mirror.

"I wrote you something."

~Please call my name one more time

I’m standing under the frozen light, 

but I’ll walk step by step towards you

Still with you ~

"I promise I’ll never let you go again."

#jungkook #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #Jeongguk #jungkook x reader #kookie #nochu #10 years with jungkook #california #lana del rey

[that-crazy-five-foot-two-chick]

Rated T for 1,107 words of EdWin FWP (Fluff Without Plot)

Summary: Edward would never read romance novels...in front of other people. He and Winry get into an argument over romance novels and somehow end up kissing. Except that they've never kissed before. So they're terrified. But then, what better to ward off terror than the need to avoid losing an argument?

A/N: Based on this prompt list of common misquoted idioms I made

Alphonse thought he'd settle in with his copy of Specialized and Little-Known Transmutations, 10th edition on the living room couch. After all, some light reading was in order that afternoon. What he did not expect to come across was a copy of Wrench to My Heart. What he expected even less was seeing it in his brother's hands. Surely there was no harm in inquiring about Edward's reading materials.

"What are you reading, Brother?"

Ed leaped out of his skin and hastily shoved the book into the seat cushion behind his back. "Nothing! Why do you think I was reading? I can't read!"

Al stared at him with a raised eyebrow until he realized his blunder.

"I mean. I only read alchemic texts. Most other stuff is just too boring. Except for comic books, maybe." Ed suddenly found everything in the room fascinating except Alphonse.

"So you're telling me that 'Wrench to my Heart' is an alchemic text."

"It's," Ed choked, "It's encoded! I was deciphering it!"

"Ed, I'm pretty sure that's definitely just a romance novel."

"Shut up!"

Their squabble was cut short when Winry came in, wiping her hands on her apron.

"What's going on in here?" she asked.

"Nothing!" was quickly followed by a gleeful "Ed's reading a romance novel."

"Oh! Well, that's unexpected."

"Was not!" Ed protested.

"What's wrong with romance novels?"

"They're. They're too sappy," Ed said curtly. "Besides, it's an alchemy book I was decoding. You wouldn't understand."

"Oh, I wouldn't, now? Let me see the author, then. Romance is a very misrepresented genre, and some of it is very good writing," said Winry.

Ed handed over the book sulkily. Winry examined the book and said, "This is actually a really well-known author, Ed. I doubt it's actually an alchemy book. It's a good choice, though. I've read some other books by that author, and I really like how her main characters tend to be in unconventional careers. If you weren't reading it seriously before, I'd highly recommend it. There's nothing wrong with a guy liking romance novels."

"But Winry—!"

Al chimed in with a smirk, "He skips to the kissing scenes!"

"NO I FREAKING DON'T, AL!" Ed howled. Winry crossed her arms and pointedly focused her eyes on the painting over the couch. "Well, what's so bad about kissing, Ed?" she shot back.

"Nothing! Nothing's wrong with it, it's just—"

"Then prove it." Winry challenged with a steely gaze.

Al snuck out of the room as the two glared at each other. The room was nearly sizzling with nerves, but Edward stood and strode up to Winry.

"Fine, if you want me to prove it, I'll prove it," he said with her face terrifyingly close to his own.

"Fine with me," she retorted unconvincingly.

Ed's breath was shaky as he leaned in to press his lips to Winry's. It seemed as though the walls and floor had shifted. As though everything had become fuzzy except for the feeling on their lips. After several seconds, he remembered that his lips were actually supposed to move. Winry's hands darted to his shoulders, giving him just enough courage to cradle her face as delicately as if it would break. She attempted to encourage him, but she ended up with his wet lips halfway to her nose. Her face scrunched in distaste.

Ed tilted his head back and scrutinized the situation. Winry bit her lip, avoiding his eyes. Then, without warning, he fitted his lips against hers again, kissing her agonizingly slowly. Agonizing, but far better in every possible way. A new wave of confidence surged through him.

Ed broke the kiss for a moment with wide eyes.

"Is that apple pie?" he asked, then dove back in.

"Are you going to—" Winry was interrupted by another kiss. "let me—" Another kiss. "answer your stupid question?" Ed answered by smirking and continuing to kiss her.

Winry shoved him away, gasping for air. Her face was beet red. Her eyes searched for something, anything to land on other than Ed. "The apple pie's in the kitchen—on the kitchen counter," she stuttered. "Go grab a slice."

Ed hummed and stepped forward, slipping an arm around her waist. His voice lowered to an almost gravelly pitch as he traced a shaking finger along her jawline. "Tastes better like this."

Winry inhaled sharply as he snatched up her lips with a hunger that was far deeper than a yearning for apple pie. Ed's hand tightened around her waist reflexively, and she melted into him. She threaded a hand into his hair, and he couldn't help but whine a little, startling her slightly. Taking Winry's distraction as an opportunity to breathe, Ed kissed her with a renewed vigor. He gripped her toned arm as if it would somehow bring their bodies closer together. As if it was the only thing that kept him grounded to the floor.

Then the floor echoed with footsteps.

Ed jumped away, if reluctantly, and pushed Winry an arm's length away just as Alphonse strolled into the room with an innocent smile.

"Did you see that Winry made apple pie, Brother? You should really try some."

Edward floundered for words. "I already—I mean, yeah, so people seem to love telling me. I should...go get some." He took a couple steps, then stumbled on air before sprinting into the kitchen, red-faced.

After a moment, Winry stammered, "I should, uh, make sure Ed doesn't eat all of the apple pie." She fled in the same direction.

A slice of apple pie sat on the kitchen counter. Ed cut a second slice and handed Winry the plate. "I thought I'd get one for you, too, since you made it." They stood in silence for a minute, eating their pie.

Then Ed burst out, "I don't know what happened to me, I just couldn't stop kissing you like some...lips-obsessed monster or something. I'm sorry. I should have had better control of myself. I should have made sure you actually wanted to. I know what made me do it, obviously. It's hormones. Just a bunch of chemicals. But that's no excuse for—" Winry lightly touched his shoulder, and whatever words he had fizzled out on his tongue.

"Ed. It's...it's okay." She fought to meet his eyes, summoning the courage to speak. "More than okay. Actually, um...do you want to...do it again sometime?"

Edward's jaw dropped, and he was certain his blush could be seen from a mile away.

Meanwhile, in the living room, Alphonse walked over to the book Ed had abandoned. "Hm, a kissing scene," he noted smugly. "What do you know."

*

*

*

A/N: I could not think of a title for Ed's novel for the life of me, so I had to come up with a place holder and brainstorm more. Rest in peace, Ooh La La Womance and Grease-Stained Embrace.

#fma #fma fic #edwin #edward elric #winry rockbell #alphonse elric #my writing #my fic

[regenderate-fic]

You'll Carry Her With You

Fandom: Doctor Who Ships: Thirteenth Doctor/Yasmin Khan, Thirteenth Doctor & Dan Lewis Characters: Thirteenth Doctor, Dan Lewis Rating: General Word Count: 2,447 Other Tags: Feelings, Emotional Baggage, Past Relationships Read on AO3

Summary: Post Eve of the Daleks, the Doctor is dealing with her feelings. Very loudly, and in Dan's space. Fortunately, Dan's enough of a friend that he doesn't mind.

NOTES: i realized that like. i've written yaz working out her feelings with dan, i've written yaz and thirteen working out their feelings together, but i have NOT written thirteen working out her feelings with dan. so. here's my attempt to rectify that

also if you saw me post this without remembering to include the summary and notes. no you didn't

“What am I supposed to do now?”

Dan had been sitting on his bed in the room the TARDIS had made for him for the last hour, reading a book he’d found on one of the shelves. It was a sci-fi thing from the far future, which of course meant most of it was incomprehensible, but once he’d gotten past that he found it good fun. But now he was jarred out of his good fun by the Doctor, more disheveled than he’d seen her yet, practically falling through the door to his room with tears in her eyes and not so much as a knock.

“Slow down, Doctor,” he said. “What are you talking about?” He had a pretty good idea what she might be talking about, but he needed to double check.

“Yaz!” The Doctor threw herself into the chair by the desk in the corner of the room, draping her front across the chair’s back with her legs straddling the seat. She wasn’t wearing her coat, Dan noticed, and her braces were half falling down her arms. Her hair, too, was all over the place. “What am I supposed to do?”

Dan closed his book, shaking his head. Technically, the Doctor had just intruded on his private space, and he should’ve been offended, but also technically, he’d opened this can of worms to begin with, and now the emotional fallout was his to deal with.

“You’ve got to give me more to go on,” he said, unable to stop a bemused smile from making its way onto his face.

“This wasn’t supposed to happen.” The Doctor stood up again, pacing the length of the room, her hands flying all over. “I was just trying to get my TARDIS back. I did not sign up for all this— emotional stuff!” She held her head in both her hands, pressing against her temples. “Why would I do this to myself? Why would I put myself through this, time and time again?”

“It comes with the territory,” Dan said. “Not much of an alternative, is there? Besides being lonely.”

“I’ve been lonely before!” The Doctor threw her hands up in the air. “I can be lonely! I’m brilliant at being lonely, really, you should see my awards.” She turned on her heel, staring down Dan. “What I’m not brilliant at is dealing with feelings.”

Dan hesitated. He’d only known the Doctor for a total of a few days, but he’d seen how she looked at Yaz. And of course he knew how Yaz looked at her. He’d wondered how they’d gone so long without saying anything about it, but he was starting to put together a few pieces.

“Whose feelings are we talking about?” he ventured. “Yours, or hers?”

The Doctor was silent.

“Doctor, I can’t help you if you won’t talk to me,” Dan said. “And I’m assuming you came in here because you wanted help, or else you’ve interrupted my reading for nothing.” He kept an easy smile on his face: he hadn’t been that invested in his reading.

“Fine,” the Doctor said. “I’ll spell it out. Would that help?” She sounded a little like she was talking more to herself than to Dan, a tight frustration in her voice. “It’s my feelings.” She shook her head, turning away from Dan. She delivered her next words to the wall. “I’ve gotten attached. I’ve lost so many people, and now I’m going to lose one more. Because I went and got attached, and now I can’t imagine the universe without Yaz.” She smacked herself in the head. “I’m so stupid!”

“Hey, love is never stupid,” Dan chided. He was mostly an audience here, a passive viewer of the Doctor’s monologue, but he could still get his agenda in if he wanted.

The Doctor shook her head. She fell back on the foot of Dan’s bed, and he sat up further, moving his legs away from her as she stared up at the ceiling, her hair flung around her head.

“It’s always stupid,” she said. “At least, it is when you’re me and your lifespan is thousands of years longer than the average sapient life form’s.” She let her head fall to the side, making off-kilter eye contact with Dan. Her voice was quiet. “You know, I’ve known loads of people. I’ve been married, even.”

There was a heavy silence. Compelled to fill it, Dan said, “Yeah?”

“Few times,” the Doctor said. She was still looking Dan in the eyes, but her gaze was distant: she wasn’t really looking at Dan. “And there’ve been others. You know. You don’t have to be married for it to matter.” There was a pause. “And I’ve loved them all.” She exhales, and quiet words flow out. “Just like I’ve loved Yaz.”

Dan opened his mouth, trying to figure out how to respond, but the Doctor didn’t give him time. She jumped to her feet, back in her blaze of anger.

“And I’ve lost them all.” Tears were rolling down her face now: Dan wasn’t sure she’d even noticed. She was caught up in her emotion, her voice searing with desolation. “Every single one of them. They’ve died, or they’ve left me, or we’ve gotten separated— and it doesn’t matter, in the end, because at the end of the day, when all the chips are down, I’ll be alone.” She gasped, unable to prevent her next words from coming out as a sob. “I’ll always be alone.”

Dan just watched. He’d never been emotional support to an alien who was, if Yaz was to be believed, 3,000 years old at the youngest: it was entirely true that he didn’t know anyone else who’d live that long. But the Doctor kept looking desperately at him, and so he tried.

“How long have you been doing this, then? Rocketing around with humans, that is.”

The Doctor shook her head. “Too long. Long as I can remember.”

“And you haven’t stopped,” Dan said. “There’s got to be a reason for that.”

“I can’t help myself!” the Doctor cried. “I can’t! I always say I’m not going to get attached, I’m just going to help out every now and then, or sometimes I just shut myself away! For decades!” She fell into the chair again, this time sitting sideways, her head in her hands. “But I always come back.”

“Seems to me, though,” Dan tried again, “that you’ll be sad if you lose Yaz no matter what. Might as well have some fun for now. Let loose a little.”

The Doctor looked up again, her eyes blazing. “I can’t do that. I can never do that.” She marked each word with a gesture. “When I let loose, people die. Every time, people die. You know, I had this friend, years ago. I loved her. So much. I let her in. And you know what happened?”

Dan didn’t answer.

“We only had two years together,” the Doctor finished, flinging a hand to the side. “Two years, and then she got stuck in a parallel universe.” She gulped down air. This was a proper messy cry. “And for those two years, Dan, I was so happy. I was so happy. But two thousand years later, I’m still sad. Is that a fair price to pay?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “And the worst part is, my happiness, our happiness, directly led to her having to leave.” She gestured with one hand— “Cause—” and with the other— “and effect.”

“Doctor—” Dan began, but she was on a roll now.

“Don’t try to tell me that’s not true,” she said. “We were having fun. We were having a good time, saving the day, everything else, and Queen Victoria, of all people, decided we were making too much light of everything, and she set up an entire institute just to defend the country from me.”

“Fat lot of good that did,” Dan joked, but the Doctor wasn’t even listening.

“And she was right,” she was saying. “She was right! People were dying, and Rose and I were having a laugh! I mean— how would you feel if you were dying and two time travelers were there trying to play a joke on the queen?”

“If the queen were at my deathbed?” Dan asked. “I think I’d just ask how come she got to outlive me. I mean, come on, how’s that fair?”

The Doctor sighed. “How’s that fair?” she echoed. “Exactly. How is it fair for me to go around becoming attached to people, falling in love, when everyone I love dies horribly? How is it fair for me to know that I’m always running into danger and still bring people along with me?” She looked at Dan again, and Dan could see three thousand years of sadness in her eyes. “I shouldn’t be around other people. It’s so— I’m so weak.”

“You’re not weak,” Dan said quietly. “You know what I think?”

The Doctor stared.

“I think caring about other people is the strongest thing there is.” He leaned back, stretching his hands behind his head. “Here’s the thing, Doctor. I’ve cared a lot, in my life. And there’ve been times where I haven���t cared at all. You know which one’s harder? Every single time?”

“Caring,” the Doctor mumbled. She still sounded mad about it.

“You’re not weak to need people around,” Dan said. “Everyone needs someone, yeah? And from what I’ve seen, you take care of us as best you can.”

The Doctor was quiet for a long moment, her head still in her hands. Finally, she looked up at Dan and asked in a thin, broken voice, “Do you have any idea how many people I’ve lost?” She kept going. “Hundreds, Dan. If not thousands.” She rested her chin on the back of the chair. “And I remember every single one. Every single person who’s walked through the TARDIS doors. They come in, they impress themselves on my hearts, and then they leave, and I’m left behind.”

“Doctor,” Dan said. “You’re not going to stop us from dying. That’s— that’s the whole thing with humanity, isn’t it? We all die?”

“Don’t see how that’s supposed to make me feel better,” the Doctor grumbled.

“You’ve got to hear me to the end,” Dan said with a smile. “The point is, we’re here at all, and that’s beautiful, isn’t it? We’re here, and each of us is unique. And when you find a person you like, never mind love, you’ve got to go for it, don’t you?” He paused. “Or else you risk missing it entirely.” He saw it so clearly, human lives blinking in and out like fireflies, the Doctor standing in the midst of it all, trying to catch them in the bottle. It was a heart-wrenching image. “You’ve got to take what you can get, yeah?”

“I suppose.” The Doctor’s head had slipped down, and she was talking into the back of the chair now, her nose hooked on its edge. “I just— it’s not enough. Dan, it’s not enough.” And he could hear it in her voice, all the hurt she’d suffered. “Thousands of years of grief, just for a few years of joy.”

“Do you regret knowing her?” Dan asked quietly. “Not Yaz. The woman you were talking about.”

For a long moment, the Doctor said nothing. Finally, she breathed, “No. I don’t. Not— not knowing her.”

“So why are you so sure you’ll regret Yaz?”

The Doctor shook her head. “It’s not that I’ll regret knowing her. It’s just—” She took a deep breath, her words coming quick and firm. “I’ll regret it if Yaz dies because of me.”

Dan fixed her with a look. “Doctor, how long has Yaz been traveling with you?”

The Doctor eyed him warily. “Three years, give or take.”

“And there’s the four we spent in the 1900’s,” Dan added. “That’s seven years for her to learn the risks and understand them. She knows what she’s gotten herself into. She’s chosen to be here. Again and again, if you ask me.”

“It’s just—”

“She’s got the right to choose you,” Dan said firmly. “Just like you’ve got the right to choose her. But don’t go saying it’s your fault if something happens to her.”

“She’s under my protection,” the Doctor protested. “Both of you are.”

Dan shook his head. “She doesn’t need protection,” he said. “That woman led me around the world without skipping a beat. You’d’ve been so proud, Doctor, if you’d seen her.”

The Doctor softened a little at that, lifting her head up. “I am proud,” she breathed. “I really am. She’s— she’s amazing. Beautiful, really. Especially when she’s trying to solve a puzzle. I wish I could’ve seen her, back in the 1900’s.”

Dan tilted his head forward, raising his eyebrows. “Have you told her that?”

The Doctor looked away.

“Maybe that’d be a good place to start.” Dan grinned. “You don’t have to open with the love confession, you know.”

The Doctor shook her head. “I can’t keep doing this.” But her resolve had weakened. Dan could see it in the way her shoulders relaxed, in the way her head drooped, in the way she looked up at him through her hair. “She’s too special to risk.”

“You’ve got to tell her that,” Dan repeated. “It’s not exactly news to me, anyway.”

The Doctor looked at him for a long moment.

“Suppose you’re right,” she said. But she didn’t move. “What if— what if it ruins what we have?”

“Trust me,” Dan said, thinking back to what Yaz had told him about the Doctor’s evasion, her frustration with it all. “Not saying anything will ruin it a lot faster.”

The Doctor sighed. “Why is it all so difficult?”

Dan smiled. “That’s part of being alive, isn’t it?”

The Doctor didn’t answer.

“Go on, then,” Dan said. “Talk to her.” He held up his book, giving the Doctor half a smile. “This 25th century romp through the Andromeda galaxy won’t read itself.”

The Doctor returned his half-smile. When she stood, she seemed fragile: for all the Doctor’s heroics, she was still just a person, Dan realized. A weird person, an alien person, a person who’d been alive for much longer than any person should, but still a person.

“Thanks,” she said quietly. She gestured helplessly around Dan’s room. “I was sure you’d kick me out.”

“Nah,” Dan said with a smile. “You needed help, didn’t you? That’s what I’m here for.”

The Doctor gave him a sad, grateful smile, and she slipped out of the room, leaving a sudden silence in her wake. Dan picked up his book again, shaking his head.

#doctor who #thirteenth doctor #yasmin khan #thasmin #my fic #dan lewis #fanfiction #short

[miss-kittys-magical-library]

The Word Of Your Body Duet (Roland x Rin)

Songbird

Word Count: 1283

Warnings: some language, loads of fluff

A/N: Just decided to drabble some Roland while he was at the musical conservancy mentioned in Three Summers. It takes place a few years before the film. For no particular reason I crossed him over with Rin from I'm A Creep and Auld Lang Syne 💁🏻‍♀️

Rin always found it difficult to play the piano with her gloves on. In spite of their pliable leather, they didn't allow the flexibility. Still she hesitated to take them off to make things easier for herself. Her fingers slipped on the notes she played a hundred times the last few weeks.

“That's meant to be an E minor, yeah?” the young man sat down beside Rin with his back to the keyboard. “That's why I wish you’d take th’ ridiculous gloves off.”

“It's funny how you’re always giving me your opinion, Roland. I never seem to ask for it.”

Dark curls hung over his forehead, and his verdant eyes seemed to stare right into Rin’s soul. “I'm your mentor. I'm supposed t’give you my opinion.”

Rin huffed, “What's your excuse outside the practice room?”

Roland ignored her, or just didn't get it, Rin was never sure. He turned and put his hand over hers to manipulate them into curling further and hitting the right key. The note came out perfectly.

“You’re not th’ problem. The damn gloves are. They're stupid and in the way, Wren.”

“You know I need them, Ro.”

Rin relished how the nickname caused a crimson red to climb up the length of his neck.

“It's Roland.”

“And I go by Rin,” she went back to playing but a bit more aggressively.

“Your real name is Wren. Just because your brother couldn't pronounce your name doesn't mean your parents should have let others do the same. It's a perfectly adequate name.”

Roland’s hand maintained its position over Rin’s but she wiggled free from his grip. Her glove sliding with it.

“Every compliment from you feels like a slap in the face. May I have that back?”

Roland held it aloft, given that his arms were rather long Rin had no way of snatching it back without standing up.

“Not until you play without them. If people have a problem with your scars that's on them, love. You aren't t’blame for their wanderin’ eyes or your parents’ abuse. I think you ought t’be proud of them.”

Roland held out his free hand palm up and wiggled his fingers. Rin gave quite the dramatic sigh and handed him her other glove with reluctance. She flexed her hands and soaked in the cold air that washed over them. She would never admit he was right as she began to play faster and freer.

“I know you've got other.. gifts,” Roland chose his words carefully for once, “That forces you to wear them otherwise. I just think music should be the one time you feel emotions.”

So, so, right. Instead Rin began to play louder with notes at random. This time to push out her thoughts of how she never had to worry about being overwhelmed when she was around Roland. He never held back, whether out of preservation or something in his past. Maybe, she thought, he was just made that way.

It almost mortified Rin that maybe he wasn't couth, but that outspokenness reflected back on her. The way she almost refused to keep anything in. Like Roland’s word vomit became hers, and she just blurted out whatever came to mind. The banter egged him on.

For now, Roland rolled his eyes so hard they nearly went back in his head. Rin kept louder and louder still. Not playing her performance piece, she took to pounding out Chopsticks at random.

“FORTISSIMO, SONGBIRD! PLAY LOUDER THEN! WAKE THE BLOODY DEAD. I DON'T THINK THE DEAF CAN HEAR YOU!”

“WHY DON'T YOU JUST BLEEDING PLAY THEN?! MISTER TEN INSTRUMENTS BUT LONGS TO BOSS US ‘ROUND?!”

Roland started joining in and overpowered Rin. His fingers deftly traveling over the keys and pushing her out of the way so he could play some classical tune or another. He immediately got lost in the process

Rin tentatively moved her hands on top of Roland’s now. She honed in on him the way her gift allowed but he was hollow. There was no connection between him and the notes.

“Technically I’m brilliant,” he wasn't bragging. It was the truth. “I've lost my passion. You wouldn't have started mucking about at my criticism if you didn't have any.”

Rin narrowed her eyes, “Who looks at a porcelain white baby and thinks, ‘Let's name him Roland?’”

“I've one better,” his fingers stopped abruptly. Roland glanced at the young woman beside him, “Who looks at a perfectly innocent child and thinks, ‘Let's turn her int’a circus sideshow?”

Rin’s nostrils flared, but she swatted his hands and arms away from the piano. Her lips sewn shut from making anything worse. “Just listen to my piece so we can get this done. Then I can be rid of you till next semester.”

Roland didn't answer but waved her on so Rin began to play and sing:

For you, there'll be no more crying

For you, the sun will be shining

And I feel that when I'm with you

It's alright, I know it's right

To you, I'll give the world

To you, I'll never be cold

'Cause I feel that when I'm with you

It's alright, I know it's right

And the songbirds are singing,

Like they know the score

And I love you, I love you, I love you

Like never before

And I wish you all the love in the world

But most of all, I wish it from myself

And the songbirds keep singing

Like they know the score

And I love you, I love you, I love you

Like never before, like never before,

Like never before

Rin opened her eyes, held her breath and sat back waiting for something more criticizing and less constructive to come from Roland.

“That was,” he paused, “Rather lovely. Good show, Wren. Sing out a bit more, but honestly it was splendid.”

Rin’s elbow slipped from where she had propped her head up with it. “Pardon? Nothing about Fleetwood Mac being commercial or provincial or something rubbish.”

“The Dance is one of the most well-arranged live albums of the last thirty years. I adore every single part of Tusk from the percussion to the quiet crescendo to the loud raucous chorus and brass accompaniment.”

She couldn't stop herself, Rin leaned forward and hastily pushed her mouth into Roland’s. It wasn't just to prevent him from ruining a perfectly wonderful compliment, but because she felt compelled to do so. A startled “mmf” escaped his lips before he returned the kiss. A hint of tongue from her mouth to his and back.

Roland’s hands settled on Rin’s face and wrapped around her head. His thumbs caressed her cheeks. Meanwhile her fingers got lost in his hair and tugged it softly.

Soon they remembered themselves and broke apart. Roland’s eyes still closed; heat crept along Rin’s skin but in a good way for once. Warm and comforting, it smelled like a campfire and like pine. He tasted nervous but also a good heart muddled by smug self-confidence that hid self-deprecation. And mint?

When did I start chewing gum? Rin grimaced hoping it went undetected.

“Well..” Roland seemed speechless. “Thank you?”

Rin laughed. She had no choice. It just leapt from somewhere deep inside her chest. “Nothing about you knew I'd come to my senses? Or that I had the hots for you this whole time?”

“You’re the Empath with feelings and people's true selves, Wren. I'm the one who can discover true musical talent when no one else can see it. Trust me I didn't see this coming, but it makes my next question easier.”

Roland scratched his head. Rin waited.

“I was thinking.”

“A dangerous pastime for a man like you.”

“We should have sex.”

Tag list: @robertsheehanownsmyass @frogs--are--bitches @super-unpredictable98

#robert sheehan #robert sheehan character fic #roland #three summers #roland x rin

[gabriel-agreste-has-no-rights]

Rating: G

Summary:  An offhand curiosity leads to Ladybug and Chat Noir riding his baton up as high as it can go. Or, as high as it can go before they get distracted. (It's just nerves about the height that has Ladybug's stomach in knots, she swears.) Ladynoir oneshot for @lovesquarefluffweek, dedicated to @rosekasa who made me a ladynoir stan

Word Count: 3511

XXX

Marinette rested her hands on her hips, watching in amusement as her partner finished wedging his staff in the crack in the dilapidated rooftop.

“This is a horrible idea,” she said idly.

His tongue stuck out as he tried wiggling the stick, ensuring that it was secured fast.  “Come on, Bugaboo, none of your ideas have ever been horrible.”

Strictly speaking, this wasn’t her idea. She’d only wondered how far Chat’s baron could extend, if its length was as infinite as her yo-yo’s string.  It was her ridiculous, adrenaline-junkie partner who wanted to ride the baton up as far as it could go.  

Not that it was that dangerous, really.  They’d done it a few times to scout for some akuma or another during attacks.  Besides, it would be nice to see the city from such a height without a threat looming over them—or below them.

“It wasn’t an idea. It was a question,” she still said on principle. “I didn’t think you were actually going to test it.”  

He rested his chin on the top of the baton and grinned.  “How long have you known me? I’m not majoring in Physics for nothing.” 

“You’re not majoring in Physics.”  She leaned in to flick his nose, which only made him grin wider.  “Not for another two months, and not ever if you become a pancake by pulling some stupid stunt before then.”  

“How could I hurt myself?  I’ll have my amazing partner right there to catch me if I fall.”  He winked.

Her stomach twisted like pretzel dough—from nerves about the height, that was all.

“Don’t go treating me like a parachute, kitty.  I’ll be more likely to rip my arm out of its socket if I have to yo-yo us out of this.”  

Or she’d have to use Lucky Charm and hope for an actual parachute, but it probably wouldn’t come to that.  Silly as her kitty could be, he never let her down when it mattered.

“Don’t worry.  I’ll be extra careful, I Pawmise.”  He crossed his heart with one claw, still grinning like he was already on top of the world.  

Ridiculous or not, this idea was worth it just to see him so excited.  He’d been bouncing all night since she’d agreed.  

“You’d better,” she warned, though her voice was warm.  

His grin reached Cheshire proportions as he wrapped one arm securely around the metal staff and extended the other to her.  “One catapult, going up.”

“Oh no.”  She laughed.  “Points for the pun, but please don’t tell me you’re going to launch us.” 

“I already said I’ll be careful.  Don’t tell me the fearless Ladybug is actually scared?”

“Pffff, you wish.  You just want me to hold on tighter.”  Her fingers threaded through his teasingly before slipping out just as he tried to kiss her knuckles.  

His lips pursed in a pout.  “You know me too well, my Lady.  ...But seriously, please hold on. I know you can catch yourself if you have to, but I’d really rather not drop you in the first place.”

“That makes two of us.”

She wrapped one arm around his waist and secured the other at his shoulder.  His feet lifted off the ground to brace against the staff, leaving his thigh as a comfortable seat.  

Enjoying this, huh?  She almost expected him to tease as she snuggled closer—because she did want to be safe.  It was almost disappointing when he neglected to quip though.  Maybe she wasn’t clinging tightly enough after all.

“So high do you think we’ll go?”  He asked, holding her by the waist as she finished getting settled.  “Think we’ll be dodging planes tonight?”

“I doubt it.  Even if we technically could go that high, we shouldn’t.  It’ll be freezing up there.”  

“What, afraid I won’t be able to keep you warm?”  He teased with a gentle nuzzle to the size of her head.

Had it always been this difficult to keep from leaning into his touch?  Not that she couldn’t, but, well—if she gave into his jokes, he’d have no reason to continue.

“Why don’t you just focus on getting us up there at all.”  She kept her voice flat, hiding any trace of that brief thought.

“Whatever you say, Bugaboo.”

For all his earlier joking, their ascent started fairly slow, more like an elevator than a catapult.  It gave her plenty of time to take in the sights below—the warm lights flickering from windows, divided by the dark swath of the Seine.  Streets radiating out from the Arc de Triomphe like spokes on a wheel, cars inching their way down them like little lightningbugs.  And of course, the Eiffel Tower, sparkling in the distance, a homing beacon that never failed to bring a smile to her lips.

Paris.  Their city.

“Pretty amazing, huh,” Chat breathed beside her. With their arms around each other and the glittering lights below, it was easy to pretend they were rulers surveying their kingdom.

...Chat had must have been calling Marinette Princess too much.  Or else his My Lady’s were going to her head.

Royal daydreams or not, though, there was no one she’d rather have beside her—no one else she could have beside her. And not just because it was his baton that held them aloft, his embrace that made her feel as secure as if she stood on solid ground.  She would have been crushed under the weight of her superhero mantle if he weren’t there to share it.  Staring down at just how many people depended on them, it was impossible to forget that.

“Does it ever feel like too much?”  She whispered the doubt that had been nagging at her more and more lately. She tried to stay strong for the team’s morale, but when it was just her partner and the hushed sky, her necessary barriers wore thin.  

“Does what feel like too much?”  He replied just as quietly.  His face turned to hers, emerald irises glinting in the moonlight, closer than she’d prepared herself to handle.

The pretzel twist in her stomach made a reappearance, but she was hardly thinking about the height.

“You know.  All of this.”  She couldn’t let go to gesture to the glowing city beneath them, but he seemed to understand anyway.  “We’re the only ones standing between all of them and two adult supervillains. And even after all these years, we still haven’t found them.”

Her voice cracked a little on that last sentence. The uncomfortable truth they’d been dancing around for the last few months—longer, really, but it became more and more urgent as lycee ended and they prepared to go to University. Most of their team of miraculous wielders (not Chat, of course) would be leaving Paris. This was the last summer they would be together, and the last summer they could be kids, only they hadn’t really been kids for four years now thanks to Hawkmoth and Mayura—

And maybe that was why she agreed to this crazy idea.  Because they were kids, dang it, and she deserved to do something silly and dumb with the one person she trusted more than anyone in the world.  She wanted to spend time with him outside of taking down Hawkmoth’s villain of the day.  She wanted them to just be together.

Wait.  Not together, together—just, like, as friends.  Who could spend time together without wearing magical suits and masks.  She wanted to sew them matching shirts, and text him cat memes at two a.m., and kick his butt at video games.  Which she could do as Marinette, but—she wanted him to know it was her, too.

The sheer force of that longing took her by surprise, and only multiplied her hatred for Hawkmoth a hundredfold.

“Hey, Little Bug,” Chat said softly.  His arm tightening around her dissolved the complicated web of her thoughts.  “We’re going to find him.  And it’s not just us anymore.  Pegasus is analyzing all the data Rena’s collected, remember?  And we’ve got her and Carapace alternating patrols with Ryuuko and Viperion.  We can even call in Queen Bee or Bunnyx or King Monkey if we need to.  We’ve never been closer to taking Hawkmoth down.”

He was right.  They weren’t alone.  They never would’ve survived the combined powers of Hawkmoth and Mayura if it weren’t for their team, especially since sentimonsters started regularly joining the fray two years ago.

Still, there was something about sitting with Chat among the pinprick stars that brought her back to before then.  When it was just the two of them against the world.

Was it weird that she sometimes missed that?

“I know,” she murmured.  Her forehead leaned against his chest, where the steady thump-thump of his heart calmed her own.  “Sorry, Chat.  I shouldn’t worry.”

“I don’t think anyone could stop you from worrying.”  His chin rested on her head, his warmth and familiar scent cocooning her.  Roses and leather and cheese, juxtaposed in a way that was so uniquely him.  “I doubt Paris would still be standing if you didn’t worry.  But it’s going to be okay.  I promise.”

The rational part of her brain wanted to ask how he could say that.  The newspapers cried out against them at every mistake, at every day that drew them closer to the fifth anniversary of Hawkmoth’s appearance.

But the other part of her brain, the part that had worked in tandem with him long enough that trusting him was second nature, calmed at his reassurance.  

“Who knows,” he continued.  “Maybe we’ll kick Hawkmoth’s butt before summer ends, and then we can throw a party before everyone splits for University.  The whole team can show up.  We’ll get Multimouse to bring the pastries.  Carapace can blast us some sick tunes.  I’m sure Queen Bee can get us a venue…”

Marinette giggled at the thought of all the miraculous wielders, unmasked and just hanging out like normal friends, no more worries than what they were going to do in University.  Alix and Kim would probably (definitely) end up in some kind of competition, powered by their miraculouses or not.  Luka would serenade Kagami with his guitar instead of Viperion’s lyre.  Speaking of which, Marinette wondered if Adrien’s brief stint as Aspik would mean he would be there… and how he would get along with Chat Noir.  For some reason, she had a feeling it would be odd to see them together.

Regardless, it was a dream worth fighting for.  A dream worth hoping for.

“I’m sure Multimouse would love that,” she said, hiding her smirk against his collarbone.  By the time such a party could happen, Chat would know the truth about her dual identity, anyway.  “I know I would.”

“There’s only one thing that would make it better.”  Chat’s voice turned teasing.

“Oh, yeah? What’s that?”

He didn’t answer as they passed through a cloud, the dampness much colder and all around wetter than she was prepared for.  She shivered and sneezed, feeling her pigtails cling to the back of her neck.  Chat chuckled and brushed them aside.  His claws lingered for the briefest of moments on the sliver of skin between her suit and hairline.

“A private party,” he said softly.  “Just the two of us, before everyone else.”

She pulled back just enough to see his eyes again, intending to tease him about what kind of party he was asking for—but the sincerity and softness in his features stopped her short.

“Y-yeah?”

“Yeah.  So we can… I mean, I know I want…” he swallowed for a moment before quietly finishing, “I want you to be the first one to know who I am.”

They didn’t talk about revealing their identities often—mostly because she made it clear that they couldn’t, and she already thought about it enough without tempting either of them by saying it out loud.  He was Chat Noir, her partner and best friend, no matter who he was under the mask.

But maybe they should talk about it more, if he thought she would want anything else.

“Of course, Kitty.”  Carefully, since they were hundreds of kilometers in the air, she moved the arm at his waist to wrap around the back of his neck instead.  A few of his damp locks tickled her fingers even though the suit.  “I’ve always wanted you to be the first, too.”

His smile could’ve powered the whole city below.  “Then it’s settled. Pegasus finds Hawkbutt next week.  We storm the castle, Queen Bee Venoms him and Mayura, you rip their miraculouses off, we pound it, and we throw the biggest party Paris has ever seen.”

His optimism, if unrealistic, was contagious.  She felt the hope untangling knots in her chest as she laughed again.

“I should’ve left the planning to you, Chaton.  Maybe then we’d have beaten Hawkmoth already.”

“Nah, we all know you’re the brains of the operation, Bugaboo.  I’m just here to look pretty.”  He flipped his soggy hair, and his bangs hit his forehead with a fwap.  

She couldn’t help the laugh that burst from her.  “You’re such a dork.  I love you.”

He froze solid as one of Style Queen’s statues.  She half expected him to turn to gold, for his warmth to bleed out like the color currently draining from her face.

She said— 

She’d said she loved him.  

She’d said she loved him, and the words had come out as easy as breathing, as sure as the pounding of her heart.  How—why?  She didn’t love him, not like that, she couldn’t couldn’t she’d told herself that long ago—

But any denials caught in her lungs, trapped like the dark butterflies snared by her yo-yo.  Only when the words were fully purified were they released again.

“I—I love you,” she whispered.  

She hadn’t meant to say it once, much less twice—but with the repetition the truth of it snapped firmly into place.  She didn’t know when her kitty had snuck past her defenses, slipped past her blinding crush on Adrien, dodged all the logical reasons she had for not falling for him.  

But he had.

She loved Chat Noir.  Of course she did.

“You—but you—is there an akuma?”  He stammered, eyes wide and disbelieving.  She’d been turning down his off-and-on (mostly on) flirting for four years now; of course he wouldn’t assume she was serious.

“No, Kitty.”  Her laugh felt suffocating.  After all this time she’d been trying to confess to Adrien, and now, when her target was her Kitty, her mouth didn’t give her a choice.

Maybe that was for the best.  She would always have a special place in her heart for Adrien, but Chat—Chat was her home.  Her partner, her friend, her everything.  

The twisting in her stomach finally unwound, swelling into something that she could hardly contain.  His face was so close, his lips still parted from the three words she’d dropped on him.  It would be so easy to lean in and kiss the shock from his face, until he melted in her arms, until they both believed this was real.

But Chat had always respected her boundaries, and she would do the same for him.  Besides, what if he didn’t feel the same anymore, if his flirting was just habit?  And she’d just blurted out her feelings before even she realized them—what if she ruined the comfortable companionship they shared?

No.  No, she knew better than that.  Even if he didn’t feel the same, nothing could tear the two of them apart. 

“I know I’m late, but—if you still want me—”

“My Lady.”  She felt more than heard the tremor of emotion in his voice.  “I’ll always want you.  I always have.”

Was this real?  How had she gone from flirting with her partner to baring her heart to him?  The liquid moonlight washed aside her walls. His golden hair was spun silver in its glow, and her hands ran through it involuntarily.  She was lucky Chat had returned his grip to her waist, because otherwise she might have accidentally slipped off him.

As much as his words made her feel like she could fly, it was best not to test that theory.

“Thanks for waiting for me, Chaton.”  She rested her forehead against his, still shaking with the realization and love and longing and—how had she ignored this feeling?  How long had she wanted him to kiss her senseless before her mind would admit it?

It didn’t matter.  She knew now, and the electricity that sparked between them wouldn’t let her forget anytime soon.

“You know I’d wait forever for you.  I love you.”  His breath fanned across her cheeks, soft and hot and everything she hoped his lips would be.  “I love you so so much, Ladybug, I—”

He might be willing to wait forever, but she wasn’t.  Her lips consumed whatever it was he was going to say next— 

And all she knew was that he tasted like coming home.

He matched her passion with a surprising sweetness.  It wasn’t the intense kiss she was expecting, but maybe that was for the best.  He was the only thing keeping them from plummeting to the ground far below, and distracting him probably wasn’t the best idea, but frankly after that first touch of lips she was so gone they could’ve fallen and she wouldn’t have noticed— 

He yelped against her mouth.  Had she done something wrong?  She hadn’t kissed a boy since Luka two years ago, but she couldn’t be that bad— 

Oh.  She hadn’t noticed.

Gravity really wasn’t supposed to be tugging in that direction.  And the wind wasn’t supposed to be blowing up.

And Chat’s baton wasn’t supposed to be slipping through his fingers.

Gah!  She barely had time to think as his arms tightened around her middle so he was hugging her from below.  What was he thinking?  Did he expect to cushion her fall?

Jolting out of oh-my-gosh-I’m-kissing-Chat mode, she threw her yo-yo from her hip and lassoed the still-upright baton.  Only miraculous magic could be holding it steady, especially when she yanked them towards it—

And in a jumble of limbs and string, she promptly tangled them against the metal length.

She heard a sharp crack, followed by a dizzy groan. 

“Chat, oh my gosh, are you okay?” The world was still spinning; she couldn’t turn to see him. Mostly because her back was pressed flush against his chest.

“Purrfectly fine, my Lady.” His laugh sounded near her ear. “I always knew you’d sweep me off my feet.”

She rolled her eyes, unsure if she wanted to laugh or groan.  She was so stupid.  Making out with Chat with nothing but a pole holding them up?  Yes, that sounded like something from her romantic fantasies (which she wasn’t supposed to have with him, but—shh), but she should’ve known better in real life!

“You’re never going to let me live this down, are you?” She muttered.

He hummed thoughtfully. That sound should not have made her shiver, she was just—it was just cold. Even though his body was hot against her back.

Yeah, she wasn’t kidding anyone.

“I could be purrsuaded to forget,” he said to her surprise.

“Oh, yeah?” 

“Mm-hmm.” His chin rested on her shoulder. “For the low price of fifty more kisses.”

“Fifty?” She choked, face heating. Fifty brushes of his lips on hers, of his laugh filling her lungs— “I—I don’t know. Actually, you’re the one who let go of the staff. I might’ve kissed you first, but you’re the one who should be getting teased.”

“Fair enough. A hundred kisses, then. Fifty for me to forget, and fifty for you to forgive me for dropping you.”

“Bold words from a guy who couldn’t even handle kissing me once.” She would’ve flicked his bell if her arms weren’t trapped over his around her middle.

“Ah, it just means I need more practice!”

She twisted her head just enough to stick her tongue out at him. “You won’t get any practice if you don’t get us down from here.”

“Oh. Uh. About that… I can’t reach the button.” He laughed awkwardly. “You mind untangling us?”

The magical properties of her yo-yo meant she could still retract the string even tangled as it was, but it would take a minute to lasso them back to the baton properly this time.

“Only if you don’t mind falling again.” 

“For you? Never,” he said with a quick kiss to her cheek.

She shook her head.  She refused to be distracted by him this time, even if his smell was everywhere, more dizzying than their brief fall through the clouds.

“You’re such a dork.”

“But you love me,” he practically sang.

Despite the fact that they were hanging in an awkward position hundreds of meters in the air, her nerves vanished completely.

“Yeah, Kitty. I do.”

(That truth was far more important than learning how far Chat’s baton could extend, anyway.)

[And then next week they beat hawkbutt and ship him and nathalie off to jail and everyone in the whole team comforts Adrien and he and marinette live happily ever after with a hamster]

#ladynoir #miraculous ladybug #ladybug #chat noir #fic tag #tali writes #lovesquarefluffweek2020 #no reveal here lads #other than marinette gettin her feelings revealed to her

[otome--fantasy]

Of Demons and Dragons

Ikemen Sengoku Imagine: Being able to turn into a dragon.

Ch.3

Warnings: Swearing, trigger warning for drowning? There is a bath scene in the sixth paragraph where MC goes underwater - completely of her own free will though. Is dragon shenanigans a warning?

The next morning you were left to wake up at whatever time you pleased. There was no knocking on the door, no vassals or guards who'd come to fetch you, and no ungodly sunlight to disturb you. For the first time since your arrival, you slept like the dead. Perhaps it was your body compensating for your quick recuperation. With a grumble, you sat up in bed, the tug of the stitches once again reminding you to be careful with what you do.

Maybe...

You were already thinking of what to tell Ieyasu if this ended badly. Telling him you bumped into some furniture and accidentally ripped your stitches seemed like the best one. Sure he would call you stupid and clumsy, but he probably already thinks that of you so really what do you have to lose? You stripped yourself of your night attire, examining the stitched wounds along your side before running your fingers over them. The skin didn't feel sore, or tender, maybe this wouldn't end in you running to Ieyasu's quarters.

The nail of your index finger grew longer and sharpened to a point with a curved arch - much like the talon of a bird, and with a deep breath you used it to cut the stitchs of one of the wounds on the side of your hip. It hadn't hurt, if anything your felt a bit of relief with the skin not having to be pulled so tautly. What did feel...odd however, was when the stitches were pulled. It stung and felt like hair was being pulled from the spot, but it wasn't so painful that it would make you stop. Yes, you stood there for a good hour or so just pulling out your own stitches. It would have taken less time had you not struggled with the ones on your back, but you didn't have a mirror to look in to, so you had to just feel for them till you got them all.

With a relieved sigh, you stretched before examining what was left of your wounds. There was only subtle traces left behind - pink, shiny scar tissue that felt smoother and softer than the skin around it. Maybe in a day or two, three at most the scars would be gone, but for now you thought it best to play the part of the wounded princess - though the thought left an unsavory taste in your mouth.

You officially started your day by freshening up and requesting the maids to start a bath for you. The hot water felt wonderful on your skin and helped your muscles relax. With a deep breath in, you closed your eyes and plunged yourself below the surface. You felt yourself become practically weightless in the water, with the only thing grounding you being the bottom of the tub against your lower back. You allowed your arms to drift up as you entered a sort-of meditative state, but when you heard someone's muffled voice calling your name frantically you emerged with gasp - scaring the maid who had been standing at the edge of your tub.

"Oh have mercy!" She cried out with both her hands over her chest, "I thought something had happened to you, Milady! I didn't see you in the bath," she was frantic, "And no one had seen you leave, I- I thought that perhaps you had slipped and fallen, or were hurt-" she rambled, completely hysteric.

You sat there and listened, moving your soaking hair out of your face before making your way over to the side she was standing next to. You gently placed your hands on hers and pulled them up, "Hey, hey, hey, calm down," you spoke in a soft voice in an attempt to get the girl to quiet down and listen, "I'm fine." She looked at you, feeling a bit embarrassed, "I apologize, for worrying you."

"It's alright," she took a deep breath, still trying to calm down, "You were simply enjoying your bath, miss."

You nodded before releasing her hands and sitting back in the water, "I've left you some fresh towels and rags on the shelf ma'am, p-please take as long at you need," she smiled and nodded before quickly scurrying away - probably still embarrassed about the whole ordeal.

After she'd left, you reached over to the shelf that was, conveniently, an arms length away from the edge of the tub and grabbed a small rag to scrub yourself with. You stayed in the water till it got cold and decided to get out and return to your room, wrapping your hair in a towel and yourself in a robe before you left the bathhouse. You hadn't paid any attention to the vassals who were training in the yard and stopped to look at you, till one ran up to you and stopped you in your tracks, "Good afternoon, Princess!"

He was a handsome young man, with young and bright features that would suggest he may be in his early 20's. He looked too old to be a teenager but too young to possibly be an experienced and seasoned soldier. His bright eyes and innocent smile were almost as infectious as Mitsunari's, and his brown locks framed his face freely.

"Yes?" You raised your brows at him questioningly, not quite sure what this man wanted.

"Pardon me, Milady, my name is Soji Okita. I'm a vassal of Lord Masamune," he bowed to you respectfully, and just when you thought his smile couldn't get any brighter, it did.

"Is that supposed to impress me?" You gave him a sly smile.

"No," he chuckled, forgetting for a moment that he was talking to an 'Oda Princess', "I suppose not..."

There was a small moment of silence, before you pursed your lips, and your smile became awkward, "Well I best get going," you should really go to your room and get dressed. You stepped around him to continue on your way.

"Wait!" He quickly whirled around to follow you, "Do you need help getting back to your room? An escort? A lady shouldn't walk so far on her own." He was following you now.

"No, I assure you I can handle myself," You shot him a quick smile before you picked up your pace.

"But Milady-"

"Shouldn't you be training, with your fellow vassals?" A familiar voice that you had gotten fairly acquainted with due to the council meeting the previous night, reached your ears, "After all, you all are training so hard to prevent what happened to the Princess from happening again, aren't you?"

Mitsuhide.

You could practically hear your dragon hissing in your ear.

"Y-yes, sir," Soji's smile faded, and he gave the both of you a bow before scurrying off.

You rolled your eyes and continued to your quarters, "That goes for you too, Mitsuhide. Go away."

"Oh no, I can't just let my Lord's lucky charm walk alone to her chambers- and in nothing but a bathrobe no less." Smug bastard.

"Like I told that soldier, I can handle myself." Now you were walking so fast you had to place a hand on the towel wrapped on your head to keep it from falling off.

"Like you did on the battle field?"

At that you stopped and turned to glare at him, "I have the mind to strangle you with my towel- I will not tell you again, Mitsuhide. Fuck. Off." You quickly whipped around to speed walk.

"And speaking of which."

Damn it.

"How does a girl like you survive such a grisly attack? Shot in several different vital spots- your neck, back, and side. There was a reason Ieyasu didn't think you were going to make it."

"Perhaps, I am as lucky as your Lord might believe."

"Oh we both know that isn't true." You could here the amusement in his voice. He knew he was getting under your skin, "The temple- a fluke, but that battle? Impossible."

You grabbed the tip of your towel and quickly unraveled your hair from it before whipping around and chucking the material at the white-haired warlord, "Oh would you give it a rest already?! What do you want from me?!"

"The truth." He effortlessly caught the damp fabric, his calmness on the matter only serving to anger you more.

"You're one to talk!" You threw your hands in the air, "Always sneaking about, not even Hidayoshi trusts you!"

"He doesn't trust you either."

With an enraged hiss you swiped at him, your nails growing in length and sharpening as your hand rapidly sailed through the air. Mitsuhide was of course, quick, and you hadn't exactly tried to hide your intentions so it was easy for him to predict and move out of the way. He stepped back, leaving a poor defenseless column to suffer your wrath. The wood cracked and gave way under your strike, causing the column to break horizontally and splinter out the other end.

"My, my, what great strength you have." He chuckled. He wasn't going to lie, he had been surprised by your blatant show of your...abilities, but then again, one common denominator in every odd occurrence thus far had been your temper.

You turned to look at him, forgetting to keep yourself in check as you glared at him with your dragons vivid, piercing hues and slited pupils.

"Are those your eyes, or is it a trick of the light?"

That's when you relized what you were probably doing, and you didn't hesitate to flee the scene of the crime. Where would you go? Your room? No, Mitsuhide could follow you there and pester you. Hidayoshi isn't an option, he still doesn't trust you, and even if he did what would you tell him? No one knows anything except-

Sasuke.

You made a beeline for the castles main entrance where you would flee into town in search for Sasuke, the only person who knew anything. Would he even be in town? He had to be, how else would he be able to come and go so freely? Whatever. If you had to leave town, you would as long as it ment you could find a safe haven for a little while.

"Princess!"

"Miss!"

"Milady!"

"Where are you going?!"

Several maids, vassals, and other servants tried calling out to you, but you ignored them as you kept your eyes on the cobblestone road ahead of you, and the closed gates that separated the castle from the village. The closer you got to them, the more they began to rattle and shake as if a strong storm was threatening to throw them open.

When you were only a couple feet infront of them the gates flew off their hinges. The sound got the attention of the villagers in time for them to move out of the way as the metal gate shot past them before clattering to the ground. They couldn't see you run past in the cloud of dust that the ruckus caused, which worked in your favor. You wanted to at least get some distance before you were caught. However, in all the comotion you became disoriented and as soon as you exited the dust cloud you ran into someone- sending both you and them tumbling to the ground.

"Watch where you're going you-" the person who was about to berate you paused for a moment, "You!!"

You glanced up to meet the familiar brown eyes of the man who helped save you from running off the edge of a cliff. The loudness if his voice caused you to snap out of your frozen state and you practically jumped off of him. He raises a brow at you, questioning if it really was you or just someone else who looks like you. The night he met you, you were so different - you were stubborn, headstrong, loud, rude, but also undeniably brave. Now you just seemed...spooked.

"Wha-?"

"Take me to Sasuke," you grab his arm and gaze into his eyes. Your wide-eyed, slightly pale expression caused him to fumble with his words for a brief moment, before he swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded, "Y-yeah, sure."

He quickly stood, pulling you up with him before he looked to see just what the heck you were wearing. In his peripheral it had looked like a simple white cloth robe, and to his suprise that's just what it was. He blushed when he realized it was a bath robe, "Now just wait a second!" He cleared his throat, "Just what are you planning?!" His red flushed cheeks allowed his embarrassment to be on full display.

"What?" Your tone was sharp and your were quickly losing patience, you didn't have time to stand around and straighten your story out.

"You're not wearing anything under that robe! What's wrong with you? Running out in public after a bath?!" He still hadn't started moving.

"Yes, and one could argue that under all your clothes, you aren't wearing anything either," you were beginning to raise your voice, "Now. I'm not playing around, take me to Sasuke!"

"I'm right here," at the sound of Sasuke's voice you whipped around, causing him to throw his arms in the air as if to show you he ment no harm. "Easy there," he narrowed his eyes to examine you, it was obvious you dropped everything you had been doing to run off and come find him.

"What happened?" He placed a hand on your shoulder and lead you into an alleyway, before pulling you into a small hole-in-the-wall noodle shop, Yukimura following close behind. The small restuarant had been fairly empty, save for a platinum blond man sitting in the far corner and a taller man with reddish-brown hair sitting at the bar - both looking vaguely familiar.

"I-" you took a deep breath as you recalled the past few moments that had just transpired, "I didn't mean to show him." Sasuke lead you to a small booth and sat you down, while he sat across from you and Yukimura stood at the edge of the table, "Show who?"

"I didn't mean to show Mitsuhide..." you glanced up at the ninja before you looked back down at the table, "I just got so angry," you ran your hands through your hair, "And before I realized what I was doing, it was done."

"Wait, Mitsuhide?" Yuki looked between the two of you in suprise, and unbeknownst to the three of you, the other two occupants of the restuarant began listening as well after they heard you mention the name of one of Nobunaga's most trusted vassals.

"Did you...?" Sasuke ignored his friend, for now, as he made a gesture with his hands, asking if you transformed, "No, no...but I may have caused some damage to the building," you cleared your throat, "And he saw my eyes..."

"Okay," Sasuke breathed, "Well what happened?"

"He's been getting under my skin since the first day but," with a sigh you leaned in closer to whisper, though in your shaken state it was difficult to keep an even volume and your voice wasn't as quiet as you would have liked, "He's been watching me," you shook your head slightly, "Or paying attention rather..."

Sasuke's brows furrowed before he finally looked at Yukimura, "Can we have a moment please?"

Yuki looked at his friend in suprise, "What, no-"

"You can trust her, she isn't going to try anything." Sasuke was persistent. He understood why his friend didn't want to leave him alone with you after you just mentioned the name of one of his, and his masters enemies, but you both came from the future and therefore held no ties with any of the warlords...yet. Yuki was hesitant, but he eventually walked away to join the towering man who sat at the bar.

As soon as you thought he was out of earshot enough for you to whisper you leaned over the table again, "He's been paying close attention to me, noticing that things tend to," you motioned with your hands while you tried to think of a way to phrase things incase anyone decided to listen in, "happen when I get angry, or emotional in general."

"Have there been a lot?"

"I mean, a few but, I didn't think anyone would notice..."

"I told you these were warlords, they're highly skilled and trained to notice or pick up on things that most wouldn't," he reminded you of the first night, the night he warned you to be careful around those men, "What exactly has been happening?"

"Well," you stopped to think and began picking at your nails, "I know my eyes change sometimes, uh..." of course you wouldn't be able to name instances off the top of your head, some of these things happen without you realizing it, "and the more emotional I get the more...severe these flare ups seem to be."

"I see."

"The most recent incident was when I made Ieyasu's tea explode-"

"You what?!"

"Shh-" you quickly placed a hand on his mouth and looked to Yukimura, who was eyeing you suspiciously, and the man next to him turned and seemed to be watching you from the corner of his eye. You gave them a awkward halfhearted smile before quickly returning your gaze to Sasuke, "To be fair, he kind of deserved it."

"What?" Sasuke blinked and shook his head in disbelief at what you were telling him, "How can you even make that happen without it being obvious?" He was questioning whether or not you were actually trying to be stealthy with your abilities, or if you were just using them willy-nilly.

"I just made it hot, really, really fast."

"How-"

"I just willed it so- anyways." You waved a hand infront of him as if the motion could physically brush the conversation aside, "The one that's been hard to hide is this," you moved the hem of your robe to the side to expose the skin on your shoulder.

"There's nothing there?"

You have him a look, head ticking slightly to the side, you pursed your lips and gave him a blank stare. And then, as if he could read your mind his eyes widened, "Your wounds from the battle."

"Exactly."

"They're gone!"

"Shhh!" You put your hand on his shoulder as if the action would press a button and make him quiet down before moving it back to your side, "I know, which is what really got the ball rolling on this- apparently my wounds were critical. Life threatening. Ieyasu said I should have been out for days, but I slept for 4 hours and I was fine."

"Well just play possum," Sasuke coughed to correct his expression- possoms play dead Sasuke, "play the damsel in distress."

"Yes I already came to that resolve, but Mitsuhide questioned me, Sasuke, infront of the entire council. Luckily I was able to redirect the topic, but it was a really close call."

"Okay... So what do you want me to do? Do I need to get you out of there."

You sighed. Originally you had come to him seeking safe haven, hoping there was somewhere you could go where you could wait out the rest of your stay, with someone who knew what you were, but your conversation from the previous night came to mind. You told Sasuke that, if you disappeared, Nobunaga would come looking for you, "No..." your rubbed your face defeatedly before slamming your fist on the table. An action that caused Sasuke to jump slightly and place his hands on opposite edges of the table, as if he alone would keep the table together should it break under the force of your hand, "I just needed someone I could talk to... Someone who might be able to give me guidance."

"Why don't you just play dumb?"

"What?"

Sauke clarified, "Why don't you just act like you don't know what's going on? If he tries to get information or a reaction out of you, just act like you don't know what he's talking about. You aren't denying any suspicions, but you aren't confirming them either."

"Excuse me." You looked up at the sound of a deep voice coming from the large figure who approached your table. You do recognized him!

"I couldn't help but over hear, that a beautiful dove such as yourself seems to feel threatened," Shingen smiled gently down at you, though his eyes suggested he was watching to gauge your reaction, like he wanted to get a read on your character.

"Did you really over hear the entire thing?" Sasuke looked suprised for a moment.

"Well, no," he admitted, "But I heard enough to know that an innocent woman is in distress." He bowed to you, "And I am fully prepared to whisk her away to safety."

You laughed and smiled politely, "As nice as that would be, I can't just run from my problems," even if that's what you were totally trying to do, "I have to go back and take care of it."

"Ah, a tenacious young woman, I can respect that," his expression seemed to soften somehow.

"Yes well," you slid out of the booth before standing, Shingen stepping out of your way to give you room before you turned to look at Sasuke, "I suppose I should return to the lions den."

"Yukimura and I can walk you back," Sasuke suggested. "What?!" The man in question piped up from his seat at the bar.

"Won't that be dangerous for the both of you?" Somthing dawned on you and you turned to Shingen, "And you too!" You gave the redheaded man a smack on the arm, "What if you're caught?"

He looked shocked at your actions, "Whatever do you mean?" These men, thinking they could say their names around you and you wouldn't remember them- well normally is does take you longer to remember names, but you learned about these men in history class, and though history wasn't your best subject - you heard their names enough in class to recognize them if you heard them again. "Do you think me stupid, Shingen?'

"You remembered my name?" His mouth was slightly agape now.

"Of course," you scoffed, "You all left such an impression last time."

"Even so," he chuckled, "How would it be unsafe here for us? We are merely travelling merchants." You gave him a look to let him know you didn't quite believe him - raising one brow while the other furrowed and topped it off with a lopsided smile, "Sure."

You began to walk off before Sasuke stopped you, "My offer still stands," you turned to look at him, "If you feel unsafe, we can provide refuge for you."

You smiled and nodded, "Thank you, Sasuke. I'll let you know if anything changes, but I at least plan to teach these boys some manners before I leave." Sasuke released you arm with a smile of his own, "Of course, but at least allow Yuki and I to escort you back. It isn't good for a woman to walk around in public with nothing but a bath robe, unless you intend to announce everything to all of Azuchi."

You huffed, "Yes, I suppose you're right." Sasuke waved Yukimura over who sighed dramatically and rolled his eyes before sliding off the stool and making his was over, "Why would you even run out into public with nothing but a bath robe, thats just asking for trouble," he snarked.

As the three of you headed out the doorway, you roughly elbowed him in the ribs, "Lesson number one," you snapped.

"Ow!" He quickly moved a hand to rub his now sore side.

"No one- woman or man asks for anything just because of what they wear or how they look," you turned to gaze at him with narrowed eyes, a look that -had you been a man- he would have taken as a challenge, "If I were to knee you in your crotch right now and you weren't wearing any protective gear, does that mean you were asking to get kicked in the balls?"

His mouth dropped at your crude words.

"No?" You raised a brow, "That's what I thought." You turned and walked back in the direction of the castle, with Sasuke following closely at your side. It took Yukimura a moment, as he sputtered and tried to find his words before ultimately deciding to keep his mouth shut and run after the both of you.

"You know," after a moment passed, Yuki was finally able to find his words.

"Hm?" You didn't look at him, but you acknowledged his words.

"You don't talk like a woman...or act like one."

"Correction, I don't talk like the women your used to," you sneared, "Meek little housewives, doting, wishing and waiting on men who treat them more like property than living beings, who treat them more like maids than life partners, who scorn them for having an opinion of their own." You gave him a sharp look, "For you to tell me that I neither talk nor act like one of your oppressed women, is a compliment."

For the second time today, Yukimura found himself swallowing the lump that formed in his throat. He was going to say that you acted more like a boar than a woman, but he couldn't form words at the moment. You averted your gaze to look away from him just as Sasuke placed his hands on either of your shoulders, "Forgive her, Yuki, she's from a much more peaceful and care free village."

"She comes from somewhere else? What is she doing here in Azuchi then?"

You laughed, but before you could say a word, Sasuke spoke for you, "One of the vassals who lives in this village has hired her as his seamstress."

You turned to Sasuke and gave him a look, not quite happy with the hole he was digging you. A seamstress? Sure being a dragon you've had to pick up a few things to avoid having to buy new clothing on a daily basis, but your knowledge only went as far as repairing tears and holes in your garments. He looked you in the eyes, practically begging you to play along.

"Yes," you looked to Yukimura, "but I live at the castle with the rest of the working women."

A silence fell over the three if you as you continued down the villages dirt road, earning odd looks here and there from several of the customers and shopkeepers along the trail. Yuki found himself looking around nervously, unsure if any of the villagers would be willing to assault a barely clothed woman being escorted by two men. You and Sasuke however, were a stark contrast- the both of your were calm and walked with your heads held high, as if there wasn't a thing in the world that could harm you.

Unbeknownst to any of you however, there were most certainly people out looking for you. Hideyoshi and Mitsunari were currently scouring the village for you. One of the maids had informed them while they were making their way down the castle halls, that she returned to your room about an hour after you left the bathhouse to find your quarters empty. She was frantic that something may have happened to you, and they recieved several reports from the practicing vassals that they saw you trying to get away from Mitsuhide before you left their line of sight.

However, you noticed Yuki and Sasuke become ridged and a bit more robotic at the same time that the hair at the back of your neck stood on end. Someone was watching you, and not in the awkward gawking manner that the villagers were- it felt like someone was observing you, studying you, approaching you.

"There you are!"

You froze at the familiar sound of Hideyoshi's voice and about faced to look at him, "Hideyoshi"

"What were you thinking?!" He stormed closer to the three of you, frantically removing the outermost layer of his garb to wrap around you, "And in nothing but a bath robe?!"

You allowed him to drape the fabric over your shoulders, quickly shoving your arms through the sleeves before he closed the opening infront of you, and tightly tied the kimono shut. "Oh good! You found her!" Mitsunari came around Hideyoshi to stand infront of you with a gentle smile, "You had us all worried, Milady."

"I'm sorry," you apologized, "I shouldn't have acted so rashly, it was dangerous and stupid and unnecessary."

"Nonsense," Mitsunari looked at you sympathetically, "Mitsuhide said it was his fault for talking to you so rudely. He admitted he had been trying to get under your skin and it frightened you."

Frightened you? Well at least you know he hadn't told anybody about what really happened. But why? Certainly not to protect you... All you know is that now you owe Mitsuhide, and that is one of the last people you want to owe a favor to.

"Yes," you confirmed the story, "I let my emotions get the best of me, and blindly ran away. Luckily I ran into two fine men who talked me down and offered to escort me back to the castle."

As you mentioned them, Hideyoshi looked to both Sasuke and Yuki, with a blank and slightly untrusting gaze, "Thank you both." His eyes narrowed slightly, "Surely there is something we can do for the both of your to repay you for your kindness."

Yuki was about to speak before Sasuke cut him off as he had done before to you, "Nonsense, we merely wanted to make sure this woman got home safely." He bowed slightly with a nod of his head, Yuki followed his actions and remained silent, "She seemed quite distressed, and we just wanted to make sure all was well."

Hideyoshi's gaze softened and he ended the conversation with a small smile, "Well, we thank you for your kind gesture. We can take her the rest of the way." Sasuke nodded, while Yukimura stood still ith a awestruck expression on his face, and with that, Hideyoshi took hold of your arm and guided you away, with Mitsunari following close behind.

#did ya'll catch that dtl reference #i was just trying to think of a description and when i did poof #ikemen sengoku #ikesen #ikesengo #ikemen sengoku imagine #ikemen sengoku imagines #ikesen imagine #ikesen imagines #ikesengo imagine #ikesengo imagines #ikemen sengoku au #ikemen sengoku headcanons #cybird ikemen #ikemen #ikemen series #ikemen destined to love #ikemen dtl #dragon mc au #of demons and dragons #of demons and dragons ch.3

[dekudynamight]

Title: Worth Waiting For part 6

Rating: E

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Jon Kortajarena, Sebastian Stan x Chris Evans

Word Count: 2.7k

Summary: Sebastian makes his confession to Jon, and it doesn't go as expected.

A/N: Aaaahhhhh thank you guys so much for the amazing response to this fic thus far! You're all amazing and I love all of you and I hope you like this 😃I'm excited for the next chapter after this one and have it started already so stay tuned! 💙

For the next three days, Sebastian went through the motions of life under the weight of his crushing guilt, and he kept it all to himself. He talked to Jon daily as usual and did his best to hide it, doing a damn good job and blaming what little Jon did notice on being tired. He wasn't a great liar but all he was trying to do was hide it until he could confess in person. There was no way he was going to just move on with life like his kiss with Chris had never happened - it would eat him up inside until he couldn't take it anymore.

So he sucked it up and carried on, boarding his plane to London at the end of those three days and spending the entire flight rehearsing his planned speech in his head. He agonized over it, hoping to God that Jon would at least listen and let him say everything that he needed to, but if he threw him out and sent him back to New York Seb wouldn't blame him. He was prepared for all possibilities, but he hoped it wouldn't prove as terrible as he feared.

When he arrived Jon was there to greet him, having just wrapped up a day on set of a movie he'd landed a small but compelling role in. He pulled Sebastian into a hug and kiss and Sebastian suspected a few people snapped pics of their reunion but he didn't care. He put on a brave face and smiled as Jon led him and his luggage to a car that drove them just a few minutes across town to Jon's hotel, and Sebastian was relieved that they'd be alone soon. If he didn't get what he'd done off his chest soon, he was sure that he'd simply just explode.

They had just gotten inside Jon's room and had the door shut behind them when Jon took his luggage from Seb and set it aside, wasting no time in invading his space with a sweet, warm smile and reaching to cup his face with a lowly whispered, "I've missed you, mi vida."

Then he kissed Sebastian with all the pent up love and passion he'd been reining in for three weeks, and Sebastian could feel it in his very soul. It broke his heart and made him feel whole again all at once, a barrage of confusing and overwhelming emotions making him forget about the confession he'd been so eager to give. He melted against Jon and fell into the kiss, having missed the man so much that it was easier than breathing to be pulled back in by him so quickly.

Sebastian didn't snap out of it until Jon started tugging his jacket off, their kisses turning hungry and scorched until Sebastian broke away with a heavy breath. Hands on Jon's chest putting some distance between them he whispered, "Wait, wait."

"Why?" Jon murmured, trailing his lips to Sebastian's neck and making his eyes roll shut.

"Jon, please, I mean it," Sebastian forced out, and Jon pulled away in an instant.

"What's wrong?" Jon asked, surprise and concern etched on his features as he looked Sebastian over.

Sebastian took a deep breath and felt his stomach drop, dread and fear filling him now that the moment had arrived at last and he'd rejected his only way out of it. He clenched his jaw and dropped his eyes, trying to remember the speech he'd planned but now that the time had come... it was all gone. Suddenly nothing felt like the right thing to say and he wished that he could just disappear.

"Sebastian," Jon said quietly, reaching up and touching his cheek. "Are you all right?"

"No," Sebastian admitted, taking his hand and pulling it away. He forced himself to look Jon in the eye and muttered, "I... I don't know how to say it. I fucked up."

Jon furrowed his brows slightly. "What do you mean?"

Sebastian took another breath, feeling ill and terrified but giving himself no choice but to come out with it. "Couple nights ago, um... Chris, he... he showed up drunk at my door. It was late and I was stupid and I let him in and I know that I shouldn't have, but I did and..."

Sebastian trailed off and watched as his words sunk in. Jon's expression shifted from confusion to understanding and then... he wasn't sure. Disappointment, maybe, but not the anger that he would have expected. "You... did you sleep with him?"

"No," Sebastian replied immediately, a little too adamantly. "He kissed me. And I didn't... I didn't stop him. I kissed him back and then when I realized what I'd done I pushed him away and freaked out and made him go, but... I did it."

Jon looked him in the eye until he was finished, and then he dropped his eyes and took a long, deep breath. Then, as Sebastian watched with bated breath and a chest full of anxiety, Jon nodded and seemed to be inwardly debating something. Sebastian watched and waited until he couldn't take it anymore, blurting, "If you want me to go I'll go. I just... I wanted to tell you in person. I'm so sorry. I'm a piece of shit and I fucking hate myself and -"

Jon, aghast at Sebastian's words, shook his head and shocked the other man by pulling him into a hug that was far more comforting than Sebastian felt he deserved. "No, no, Sebastian," Jon murmured. "Don't say that."

Sebastian buried his face in Jon's shoulder, hot tears springing to his eyes. "But it's true," he muttered. "You've been so damn good to me and you deserve so much fuckin' better."

But all Jon did was shush him gently and then lead him to the king sized bed in the suite, sitting him down on the side of it and sitting next to him, keeping his arm around him and placing his other hand on Sebastian's face. "I'm not angry, Sebastian."

Sebastian blinked and sniffed back his tears. "What?"

"I'm not angry," he repeated gently.

"... How? I fuckin'... I cheated, Jon. And with him."

Jon shook his head. "You love him," he stated gently. "I can't change that."

"But I love you," Sebastian insisted. "I swear I do."

"I know you do," Jon assured him. "And you love him, too. It's okay."

"No it's not," Sebastian argued softly. "I hate it. I hate what he does to me and how the second he shows up I just fuckin' lose it. I'm a piece of -"

"Sebastian," Jon interrupted gently, "It's okay to love more than one person. And you are so... sweet and full of love and have so much to give. I would never want to change that about you - it made me fall in love with you."

Sebastian's heart throbbed with pain, his guilt growing immeasurably worse thanks to Jon's seemingly utter lack of anger. He wasn't happy about it but he wasn't mad or particularly frustrated either, and the lack of a conventional response left Sebastian completely unsure as to what the hell to do with himself and his feelings.

"Why don't you hate me?" Sebastian asked quietly, and Jon winced as if the question physically hurt him.

"I've told you before, mi vida - I could never hate you."

Sebastian couldn't help but cry even more at those words. Jon pulled him into another hug, whispering comforting words into his ear and running soothing fingers through his hair. Within a few moments they ended up laying in bed together, shoes and jackets off and Sebastian curled up in the safety and warmth of Jon's arms. His head was on Jon's chest and Jon comforted him until the tears finally stopped coming and his breathing evened out.

Sebastian was exhausted from not only his flight but also from the outpouring of emotion that he was still grappling with. It was surreal in a way, Jon being so sweet and understanding despite what Sebastian had done, and Seb just... could hardly comprehend it.

"Are you sure you're not mad?" Sebastian asked quietly, peeking up at Jon.

"At you, no," Jon replied. "But Chris... he plays with your heart. What he does to you is cruel."

"He doesn't mean to be," Sebastian said, his knee jerk reaction to defend Chris at all costs still very much alive and well. "He just..."

"You make excuses for him and always have. You shouldn't."

Sebastian let out a breath and lowered his eyes, closing them as he snuggled deeper into Jon's chest. "I know. I'm an idiot."

"He is the idiot," Jon chuckled.

"Yeah." Sebastian paused. "But I love him."

Jon kissed his forehead. "But you love him."

Sebastian looked up at him, eyes earnest and honest. "I love you, too."

"And I love you," Jon replied softly, leaning down and placing a soft kiss on his lips.

".... What do we do?" Sebastian asked Jon in a whisper, at a loss for where to go from here.

"Whatever makes us happy," Jon shrugged. "And you make me happy."

"You do, too," Sebastian insisted, meaning it with everything he had in him.

"Then we will figure it out," Jon assured him, kissing him one more time, and somehow despite his guilt, shame, confusion and inner turmoil... Sebastian believed him.

He might never fully believe that he was worthy of Jon's love and forgiveness, but he was grateful more than words could ever begin to say. He wished that his love for Jon would just push his love for Chris out of his heart and into the past, but instead they coexisted for better or worse. He loved them both so damn much and he couldn't imagine that ever changing.

What the hell were they gonna do?

----

The next morning Sebastian awoke to soft, tender kisses on his neck and gentle hands roaming his body, Jon coaxing him into what proved to be the best makeup sex Seb had ever had. A part of him still felt like he wasn't worthy of such pleasure but Jon went to great lengths to convince him otherwise, and Sebastian loved him all the more for it.

The rest of his trip passed by pleasantly and all too quickly, the two men enjoying each other's comforting company and making a few public strolls together. They both had to deal with a lot more paparazzi since coming out but it was a part of life and it rarely bothered them. What did bother Sebastian, however, was the nagging little voice in the back of his head wondering how Chris was doing and if he was seeing the pictures as they hit the Internet. Sebastian wanted to reach out and make sure that he was okay, that he wasn't hurting after what happened, but silence had lapsed between them again and he just didn't know how to proceed.

Sebastian flew home at the end of his trip conflicted and worried but relieved that he and Jon were still together despite his lapse in judgement. Soon after he jetted off to LA for a new film and, for the time being at least, left his problems on the back burner in favor of work. It was a bandaid really but he was used to it.

Three weeks into filming, Jon's project wrapped up and he had a week free to visit Sebastian in LA. He packed up and flew his way, stopping for a layover at JFK that left him waiting for an hour and a half before his next flight began boarding. He grabbed lunch and coffee at one of the restaurants and sat at a table towards the back as he made a few phone calls and texted Seb to keep him updated as to his ETA.

Everything was going perfectly smoothly until he finished his food and happened to glance up at the right moment and noticed a particular patron at the counter waiting on his order. Jon wasn't sure at first until the man turned his head a certain way, better displaying a bearded jaw that a NASA hat and sunglasses couldn't hide, and then Jon knew beyond a doubt who the man was. He took a deep breath and looked away, wondering what kind of ridiculous sense of humor the universe had to cross their particular paths on that particular day.

Then again, maybe the universe had a good reason for it.

He got up and headed to the front of the restaurant, quietly disposing of his now-empty coffee cup and walking the short distance to where Chris stood. He took a deep breath and hesitated only for a few seconds before reaching out and gently tapping his upper arm. Chris immediately swiveled around and, upon making eye contact with Jon, immediately performed his best impression of a deer in headlights.

".... Hi," Chris blurted, eyes wide and mouth hanging slightly open. Jon, not as much of a saint as he seemed to be at times, couldn't deny the little bit of satisfaction he got from Chris' clearly panicked reaction.

"Heading home?" Jon asked quietly, glancing around them to ensure that nobody was watching them or paying them any mind. They weren't.

"No, Atlanta," Chris replied, visibly perplexed by the casual line of questioning. He seemed to just go with it, however, asking next, "You?"

"Back to LA. Sebastian's waiting for me."

Chris stared at him, anxiety sealing up his mouth for once and leaving him speechless. Jon watched him squirm for only a few seconds before letting out a breath and throwing him a bone.

"I know what happened. He told me weeks ago," Jon told Chris, whose brows quirked in surprise. "We don't keep secrets."

"Listen," Chris muttered after swallowing nervously, tone as quiet as possible, "I never meant to -"

Jon held up a hand to silence him. "I don't know what you mean to do. You are always playing with him and coming and going as you please, and he deserves better than that."

"I know," Chris replied, visibly and audibly pained. "And I'm sorry. To both of you. I had no right to do what I did. It won't happen again."

"I think it will," Jon shrugged slightly. "He loves you too much to ever say no to you. And you - I don't know what you want from him but I don't trust you."

".... I wouldn't trust me either," Chris muttered, clearly ashamed. It was all in his blue eyes, plain as day for anyone to see. "I don't wanna fuck you guys up anymore than I already have. I'll leave him alone."

"That's not what I want," Jon shook his head. "I want him to be happy."

Now Chris was really confused. He gave a small shake of his head and furrowed his brows. "What do you mean?"

"He needs you, I think. I can't change that. But unless you stop being a coward and using him whenever you feel like it, you'll never deserve him or his time."

"I'm not trying to take him from you," Chris blinked, unsure of how to take Jon's words. "I just..." he paused and trailed off, eyes averting aimlessly. "I miss him."

"Maybe you should stop missing him and start earning his love," Jon suggested. "Stop breaking his heart."

".... Don't you hate me?" Chris asked, bewildered. "I don't understand."

"I don't hate anybody," Jon shrugged. "Not even you."

A pause of silence passed between them, and then with all the sincerity in the world Chris finally murmured, "I'm sorry."

Before Jon could accept the apology, Chris' order was called out from the counter. He glanced over his shoulder and then back to Jon, who simply moved his hands into his pockets and said, "Have a safe flight, Chris."

"You too," Chris replied, eyes still bewildered as he watched Jon walk away and out of the restaurant.

Nerves now shot, Jon felt the nagging need for a cigarette start to grow as he began heading towards his gate. He hoped that Chris would listen and put an end to this nonsense for Sebastian's sake, whatever that ultimately meant for him and Jon. Whatever came of them in the end, so long as Sebastian was happy and had what he wanted, that was enough for Jon. That was how love was supposed to be - selfless, unconditional.

And maybe not always limited to one person and one person alone.

Taglist: @captainrogerrsbeard @take-me-tom-hiddleston @onehotgreasymechanic @stanclub @time-travel-bouqet @supersmuttyqueernerd @its-a-pretty-interesting-wall @itsstillnotwhatyouthink @lisamott9 @ravensonata @buckmesideways22 @loki7ms @weareallteamcap @laughingatthevoid @nade2308 @wintersoldier1989 @steve-bucky-stucky @loricameback @imagininggirl

#evanstan #kortastan #sebastian stan x jon kortajarena #chris evans x sebastian stan #sebastian stan #chris evans #jon kortajarena #sebastian stan rpf #chris evans rpf #rpf

[swcctpeaa]

Can A Snake Be Sweet? // Sweet Pea x Reader

A/N: I haven’t written fanfic like this in going on three years so bear with me, please, while i try to find my bearings. If you’d like a part two i’d be more than happy to go on and do that for you guys. Thank you for reading!

Summary: After getting caught on Serpents territory Sweet Pea offers her a ride back home, Jughead’s trailer, since it’s dark but when they get there Jughead isn’t there so they end up at Sweet Pea’s trailer for the night.  Word Count: 2047 Warning(s): Mention of alcoholism.

“Let go of me,” she yelled yanking her arm away from the much stronger males grip. 

“What do you think you’re doing here? Eavesdropping on a Serpent initiation, that’s the type of thing that gets you into trouble on this side of town,” his eyes had a menacing look in them as he got closer and closer to her with every word. 

 “I didn’t know it was some initiation, or whatever, i was just making sure Jughead was okay.” Y/N defended as she took a step back to keep some space between herself and him. 

“What, you don’t think he’s safe with us?” A voice from behind her piped up, prompting her to turn to find Sweet Pea and his ever present smirk walking toward the two. 

This was a situation Jughead had been warning Y/N from for the last two days since she moved in with him and she had sworn up and down she would never be stupid enough to put herself in a situation where she felt so unsafe, yet here she was, off behind the Wyrm with two Serpents.  

“He’s officially a Serpent now, he’s safe with us but you on the other hand...” Fangs spoke up closing the gap between them once again. 

“I’ll take care of our little Northside princess here, go catch up with the guys,” Sweet Pea interrupted once Y/N tensed up. He motioned Fangs toward the bar that seemed so far away from where they were standing. Fangs just simply patted the taller male on the back before heading toward the Wyrm. 

“Why’d you do that?” Y/N's voice was soft as she kept her arms crossed.

“Wanted you to myself,” he winked as he took a few steps closer to her. There was no way he was going to tell her the truth and say that seeing her so uncomfortable by his friend bother him slight, maybe because it wasn’t in his nature or maybe because he barley new this girl. Either way the truth wasn’t coming out from Sweet Pea.

Y/N rolled her eyes at his comment in an attempt to suppress the smile that was trying to appear on her face. She looked around for a moment and let out a heavy sigh, “i should probably get back home and check up on Jug,” she piped up breaking the momentary silence between the two. 

“Let me give you a ride,” he pulled his keys to his motorcycle out from his pocket. “I’m good thank you, i can find my way,” she quickly turned down his offer as she turned her back to him and started walking off. 

“It’s not a matter of finding your way,” he replied as she followed behind her. “The streets aren’t safe at this time of night.” Y/N looked back at him with raised brows, “the streets are never safe,” once she spoke she was sure the boy thought she meant specifically in Southside but as they spoke there was a certain black hood menacing the streets of the Northside, “in Riverdale,” she added, hoping he’d know she had zero intentions of putting down the side of town that was considered both of their homes now. Sweet Pea just simply nodded at her remarks. 

“I won’t take no for an answer,” he replied, he wasn’t all too sure why he cared so much that she not walk alone at this time of night but he did.

“Fine, you can give me a ride,” her voice played an exasperated tone as if this had been a drawn on tug of war between the two.

“Cut the dramatics,” Sweet Pea’s tone was laced with amusement although the straight faced look he wore sang a different tune. 

Y/N followed him the short distance to his bike. As she watched him climb on top of the bike with ease she realized she was standing in the same spot for much longer than she should’ve. “You coming or are you just going to stand there and stare?” His eyes furrowed as he looked at her. “You’ve never been on a motorcycle before have you, princess?” Y/N crossed her arms at his question, mainly due to the use of the word princess he insisted to use. She knew it wasn’t a term of endearment coming from him but instead a dig at the side of town she came from.

“I have too,” she replied simply.

His brows raised at her response, “okay, then get on.” His lips quirked up as he handed over a helmet for the girl still standing an arms length away from the bike. 

She let out a heavy sigh and grabbed the helmet, placing it on her head as she made her way towards the bike. “Tik tok,” Sweet Pea chuckled, turning his head toward her. Rolling her eyes she climbed onto the back of the bike. 

“Hold on,” he said before kicking up the bar on the ground and starting the engine. Y/N didn’t hear him as she was lost in her thoughts, why did i lie and say i've been on a motorcycle before? apart of her realizing she didn’t want to seem lame in front of the boy she was now less than inches away from. 

She was pulled out of her thoughts when she felt him wrap her arms around his waist, a feeling neither would probably ever admit gave them both a oddly satisfying feeling in the pit of their stomachs. 

Sweet Pea’s eyes were taken off the road for a split second as he looked back at Y/N. “What are you doing,” she yelled, “look at the road.”

“I was making sure you were okay back there,” he chuckled turning back to face ahead of him. “I’ll be okay as long as you don’t get me killed,” a short giggle escaped her without her even noticing. 

Y/N who stuck by her friends feelings about the Southside so strongly found herself not all that uncomfortable in one of it’s very own residents and that idea alone made her a bit uncomfortable. 

“And we’re here,” the bike came to a halt almost simultaneously with his voice. 

“Thank you,” she gave him a genuine smile as she climbed off the bike. “Have a goodnight,” she told him before turning her back towards him and walking towards the trailer. 

“Yeah, goodnight,” Sweet Pea mumbled, knowing full well it wasn’t loud enough for her to hear. Against his normal instinct he stayed to make sure she got in safe and sound apposed to just riding off without a second thought. 

Once Y/N made it up to the door she realized she forgot her keys on the counter when she snuck out behind Jughead before his initiation into the Serpents. “Jug, open the door, it’s Y/N.” She tried to speak loud enough for her voice to travel past the door as she knocked a couple times. 

“Jug!” Her voice raising slightly higher as she knocked on the trailer door once again. 

“Looks like he’s not home,” a sly voice spoke from behind. Y/N rolled her eyes as she turned to face the boy sat on his motorcycle. 

“Why are you still here, Sweet Pea?” She groaned leaning against the railing. 

“You should be thanking me for caring enough about a Northsider to wait for you to get inside otherwise you’d be shit out of luck,” he replied a smirk ever present on his face.

“You care?” She questioned, crossing her arms in disbelief of the boys words.  

“Why else would i be here?” Sweet Pea questioned, stumping Y/N momentarily. “I don’t know, to make sure  i don’t get attacked or something?” The girl laughed when she realized she had no genuine response to him. “I don’t know about you but on this side of the tracks that’s what we call caring.”  Sweet Pea shook his head at her as his eyes scanned the vicinity. 

“Hop on,” he patted the back half of his bike seat. 

“Why?” Y/N questioned, “where are we going?” 

Sweet Pea’s eyes furrowed, “you just went on your first bike ride with me and now you don’t trust me?” he questioned. Y/N’s eyes widened at his words, “h-how’d you know?” she asked. 

“You were shaking when you first sat on the bike,” his eye brows raised, “i’m not dumb, princess.” He said plainly, “now come on.” 

“Where are we going?” She asked, ignoring all the rest, a bit embarrassed in getting caught in her lie. 

“My place.” He replied. Her brows furrowed at his words as she looked at him confused. “It’s late, i’m not leaving you out here alone and i’m tired.” He told her, pulling her arms around his waist once again as soon as she hopped onto the motorcycle. 

“I don’t know,” she mumbled. 

“You can have my bed, i’ll sleep on the couch.” He assured her knowing that was where her mind was probably going. Y/N nodded and held on to him for the short period of the ride from Jughead’s trailer to Sweet Pea’s. 

She walked in behind him once they got to his trailer, it was oddly very similar to that of Jughead’s.

“Thank you,” she mumbled looking up at the much taller boy as he showed her to his room. 

“Don’t mention it,” he told her, really it was something he’d rather she never mention outside of this moment. 

Sweet Pea made his way out of the room once he found Y/N was making herself comfortable, his head turning to look at her one last time and a small smile became present on his face before it quickly disappeared. 

She pulled the sheets up in an attempt to find comfort in someone else’s bed. When the ruckus outside began is when her grip on the sheets tightened slightly. Most would think her reaction would be due to her familiarity with the quiet streets of the Northside but instead it was due to the rowdiness of her house late at night when her father would stumble in drunk as usual. Y/N tried to ignore the noise but that mixed with the unfamiliar bed made for an almost impossible sleeping setting.

“I’m such a baby,” she mumbled pulling her feet from the bed and onto the floor.

“Um, Sweet Pea,” her voice was fragile as she peeked out of his bedroom.

“Yes, Y/N?” his voice was already getting a bit husky from his attempt at falling asleep.

“Do you think you could come in here?” her words were hesitant as she waited for his response. 

“Yeah,” he replied, getting up from the couch, his true height becoming clear once again. “I thought you’d never ask,” he smirked as he walked up to her and into his room.

Y/N rolled her eyes as she turned to look at him, he’d already made himself comfortable in his bed. “Aren’t you tired?” he questioned, holding the sheets up lazily, for her to crawl back in. “Yeah, i am,” she mumbled as she got under the sheets. Y/N’s hand reaching for his as she placed it on her side. It was a safety precaution is what she insisted in her head but was their a chance it was maybe something more?

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

Jughead’s Trailer 9:07am

“You slept with Sweet Pea?” Jughead’s voice rang throughout the trailer, not out of jealously, he had Betty after all, but more so due to concern. 

“Not like that, Jug, i slept at his place last night because you weren’t here.” She replied, picking up her keys from the counter as proof that she had no way into the trailer. 

“Why Sweet Pea though?” he questioned. 

“He dropped me off.” Y/N shrugged, sitting on the couch, trying to play this off as not a big deal when they both knew it was. 

“Y/N, promise me you’ll stay away from him,” the look in jughead’s eyes said it all, he had zero trust that Sweet Pea’s intentions with Y/N were pure and for that look alone she decided in that moment that she would heed her friends words. 

“I promise, Jug.” she replied, giving him a fragile smile. 

#sweet pea imagine #sweet pea x reader #sweet pea #riverdale fanfiction #riverdale imagines