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#like a bad selfie of him at home with the caption 'just dropped my favorite mug when will the suffering end xx'
fightwing · 2 years
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does your muse look at their internet tags yes or no
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vintagedolan · 4 years
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sweet creature (egd)
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ethan hates when he has to leave you for even a few days, so when he gets back, he has a little surprise planned
word count: 4.3k
warnings/tags: fluff, and then some smut to round it out WOO we goin through it today ladies and gents, harry styles (music) is involved :) 
dedicated to my bruna bby ( @ethanhes​ ) who is so strong and the sweetest girly I know. I love you!!
feel free to send in requests! and check out my masterlist if you wanna :)
Like hell you were gonna make another trip - you slid the last grocery bag onto your arm, ignoring how they were digging into your skin as you started your walk into the house. If anyone had watched you try to navigate your way in the door, it probably would have been quite the sight. But you succeeded, emerging into an empty kitchen, heaving the heavy bags up onto the counter.
Usually, you’d yell down the hall, summon the boys to help you unpack. But it would be futile - no one was home. Not even Sterling was around - the three of them were off on Wakeheart business, at the factory in Arizona where everything was actually produced so they could approve all the candle production.
You’d gotten a few pictures from the trip - bright colorful sunsets, Grayson and Sterling smiling from across the table at breakfast. But your favorites were the stupid little selfies he kept sending. Your phone buzzed in your pocket as if on cue.
Another snapchat from Ethan, this time of him with a metal straw trapped between his teeth and big smile on his face. Adorable, as always. 
cold brew mood. miss you x was the caption that flitted across the screen. You screenshotted it just in time. The next buzz was a text from him.
:(
why you screenshot
cause you looked cute
send me one back, I miss you
You rolled your eyes at that, deciding to make him wait for a minute while you started to put the groceries away. You’d only unpacked two bags before your phone buzzed again.
hey
show me ur face
omg gimme a minute 😂
im putting away the obscene amount of oat milk I just bought
DID THEY HAVE THE GOOD KIND
yep. bought three cartons
holy shit I love you
gray says he loves you too 
but I love you more
You sent him a quick snapchat to appease him, unsurprised when you got the notification that he’d screenshotted it. He always got like this when he was away - even more clingy than usual, constantly wanting to communicate with you somehow. You had to admit, you loved the idea that you were always on his mind when he wasn’t with you, even if it did mean you felt like you were constantly on your phone.
what else are you doing today?
idk might lay out by the pool for a while
without me? 😔
you should go shopping
You frowned at your phone, looking at the few boxes of pasta you had left to put away before you typed back with a huff.
I literally just got back from the grocery what do u mean
not that kind of shopping
fun shopping. like for clothes
The thought was tempting - with everything going on, you hadn’t gotten anything new in months. To be fair though, you hadn’t really needed anything new - you were just hanging around the house anyways. 
do you want me to go so I’ll stop wearing all your clothes
yes
kidding baby you know I don’t care. but you should get some new stuff, you deserve it! just use my card
I hate using your card
It wasn’t a lie. Ethan had gotten you a credit card linked to his personal account for emergencies almost six months ago, and you’d only used it a handful of times when he insisted. You never wanted him to ever think that you cared about him for his money. 
I’d be buying whatever you find if I was there, it’s the same thing
You grinned to yourself, plan already hatching. He didn’t say what you had to buy. You’d just get something small - a pack of socks, or a basic tee - with his card, and pay for the rest of it yourself. 
alright alright, fine
But his next text had you rolling your eyes. He knew you too well.
and you have buy real clothes. like at least one dress
Even though he wasn’t there to see it, your eyes squinted in accusation. 
why a dress?
you’re being sus what’s this about
you’re so stubborn holy shit. I was gonna buy you dresses for the harry concert so I want you to pick some out for yourself
Damn. You’d almost forgotten that the concert was supposed to be that night. Ethan had bought the two of you tickets back when they went on presale, using his connections to get the two of you amazing seats. E had been almost as bummed as you when it got postponed, disappointed that the night he’d had planned for you had fallen through.
it got rescheduled to august baby, we can go shopping then!
i’m impatient
omg really? I had no idea 
just go buy some dresses and send me pictures. we’re back at the factory, gotta go. I love you!
love you too!
Knowing that if you sat down you probably wouldn’t get back up, you turned back to the door with a sigh, grabbing your keys and wallet from where you’d just stowed them, heading back out to the car.
You climbed into Ethan’s Tesla, hitting your preset button on the door so the seat moved forward to where you could reach the pedals. He always insisted you take his car if he couldn’t drive you, always wanting you to be the safest you could be. It was still a bit intimidating to drive something so expensive, but you did it anyways, heading to the mall that housed most of your favorite stores with your mask on.
It turned out to be one of those days where nothing caught your eye. You really looked, scoured through the racks, hoping to find anything that looked remotely appealing or like your style. You even tried on a few that you had hopes for, but they were a bust. 
Feeling defeated you stopped for a while and got some coffee, sitting and people watching as everyone passed in their masks. Your eyes wandered to another store, one you rarely went into - it catered to your style perfectly, but everything was far out of your price range. 
But looking couldn’t hurt. Right?
That backfired as soon as you walked in, smelled that perfect fragrance that seemed to dust all the soft fabrics in the place. 
Before you knew what you’d done, you had so many options thrown over your arm that it was starting to ache. 
You stopped looking, headed to a dressing room to try and narrow down your search. Some of them were automatic no’s, the cut not flattering or the color clashing with the undertones in your skin.
But there were three winners - a tight green one that hugged your curves, a casual denim overall number that would look adorable with the right shirt, and a blue sundress that tied into a bow at the back, the fabric brushing your upper thighs.
You snapped pictures in each one, knowing Ethan would help you decide. Your bet was on the green one - he was a man, after all. But his response just made you roll your eyes.
you look hot as fuck
buy all three
no
yes
they’re expensive
I didn’t ask how much they cost. You like them all. therefore, you buy them all
it’s simple really
ethan
y/n
just tell me which one is your favorite please
if you don’t buy all three i’m just gonna go back and buy them for you later
or I’ll order them and have them shipped to the house
stop
getting online now 😌
stop it
placing an order 😌 😌
ethan grant
last chance
fine
im sticking my tongue out at you. you can’t see it but I am
ouch, im hurt
are you headed home after you buy them?
well I’m sure as hell not spending anymore money, so yeah. why?
just wondering where my girl’s gonna be. drive safe. you took the tesla right?
of course I did.
good. hurry home. but don’t hurry too much. safety first
You quirked an eyebrow at the last text - he was being so odd. He’d only been gone for two days, usually it wasn’t this bad for him. Who knew what he’d be like tomorrow before he got home.
Changing back into your clothes in a hurry, you put your rejects out on the return rack and carried your three choices to the register, trying not to listen to the total before you put Ethan’s card in the reader. 
You left the mall swiftly after that, trying to ignore the eyes on you. In reality, no one was probably looking at you, but you felt like everyone was staring as you carried your expensive bag and got in a fucking tesla. You never understood how Gray and E could walk around with such expensive things and not be fazed in the slightest. 
The drive home took longer than you would have liked considering the traffic you got caught in, but you just turned your music up, humming along as you crawled down the road towards your exit. When you finally got there you let the tesla take over, pulling you off the interstate and starting down the smaller roads that led to the house. 
Your first clue was when the song changed. At first you didn’t think much of it - you had every Harry song saved to your library, it wasn’t unusual for one to come up. 
But then, one verse into Fine Line, it skipped, the intro of Two Ghosts starting. 30 seconds later? Falling started to play through the car. 
“What the fuck?” You muttered, quickly switching off autopilot, afraid that the car may be glitching. It was only a few more minutes until you got to the house, and in that time the song switched again twice, all Harry songs. 
When you pulled into the driveway and put the car in park, your phone buzzed with your second clue.
welcome home baby
omg are you watching the cameras? that’s creepy as fuck
also the tesla just got super weird but I swear I didn’t fuck up your car
just come inside
You obliged, grabbing your bag and heading into the house.
Clue number three was that the pasta boxes you’d left on the counter were gone, put away no doubt on the shelf that you couldn’t reach. You froze.
Someone was in the house.
You only had a moment to be scared before Ethan appeared around the corner, your favorite grin adorning his face.
“Boo.”
You dropped the bag, running the few steps it took to get to him before you threw your arms around him, breathing him in as he hugged you to him tightly. 
“You guys weren’t supposed to be home until tomorrow!”
“Caught an early flight so I could surprise my girl. Gray and Ster are still in Arizona.” He leaned back so you could look at him, shrugging as if it was no big deal that he’d cut his trip short just to come home to see you.
“Didn’t you have stuff you needed to do?” 
“No, we knocked it out today.”
“Then why didn’t Grayson come ba-”
His lips were on yours then, catching your words as he kissed you hard, a hand coming up to your cheek, thumb running over your cheekbone. “Are you gonna keep asking me questions, or are you gonna let me actually surprise you.”
“There’s more?” The butterflies that only he could bring fluttered in your stomach, and you bit your lip, looking up at him. He leaned down past you, reaching for the bag you’d dropped, placing it back in your hands.
“Maybe. Go put on one of your new dresses, then come out back.” He pressed a quick kiss to your lips before he let go. “Hurry.”
“Okay!” You were practically giddy as you hurried back to Ethan’s room, laying the dresses out on the comforter and trying to decide on one. It took a few minutes, a few switches of holding them up to you in the mirror before you settled on the blue sundress, situating the big sewed bow in the middle of your back. It had a built in bra that was surprisingly comfortable, making it the easiest choice.
Shoving your dresses back in the bag, you didn’t even bother with shoes. You just headed straight for the backyard - but you froze in the living room, taking in the sight through the doors.
The sun was setting on the horizon, painting the sky a baby purple, the clouds a pop of pink as they floated, scattered around. The city was starting to light up below you, and the moon hung high above it. But your eyes were on something - someone - entirely different. 
Ethan was standing in the grass, wearing one of his nice pairs of shorts and a short sleeve patterned button down - you hadn’t even noticed his outfit earlier, you’d been too excited to see him. He was holding a bouquet of sunflowers in his hands, the petals bright yellow even in the dim light.  
He caught sight of you through the glass and immediately hid the flowers behind his back as he stood up straight and smiled like a guy coming to the front door to pick you up for prom.
You pulled the door open, stepping out into the cool California air. It felt almost cold against your flushed cheeks as Ethan looked you up and down, letting out a low whistle.
You just laughed, stopping a few steps in front of him and waiting for whatever he had planned. 
He whipped the flowers around with a grin, holding them out for you with one hand, leaving his other arm tucked behind him. “Happy concert night!”
What you didn’t see was the remote in his other hand. He clicked it with his thumb, and the whole back yard lit up. There were twinkling christmas lights lining the roof and wrapping around the tree to the side of the house. He’d brought out Grayson’s projector and pointed it at a white sheet he’d hung up - you watched it for a moment, laughing when you realized it was projecting a slideshow of the pictures you two had taken together over the last year. And finally, you noticed the speakers had turned on, starting to play one of your favorite songs. Sweet Creature.
“E-”
“I know it got rescheduled, and we’ll have so much fun when we go. But, I still wanted to make tonight special. So, it’s kinda just date night, but... Harry Styles edition?” 
Closing the gap with a few steps you threw your arms around his neck, flowers and all, so you could kiss him. 
“I love you so much,” were the only words you could find, and you hoped he knew how much you truly meant them.
“Love me enough to dance with me?” 
You froze at that - you weren’t much of a slow dancer, and Ethan had even less experience than you did. But the thought of staying so close to him made your heart flutter, so you nodded, letting go for a moment so you could sit the flowers down safely in the grass.
He pulled you back into his arms, hands settling on your waist as yours went around his neck. His fingertips ghosted over the bare skin on your back below the bow, sending shivers up your spine. 
It didn’t matter that Sweet Creature was a tiny bit fast for a slow dance - the two of you weren’t doing more than swaying back and forth anyways, foreheads touching, totally lost in each other. 
He spun you a few times, even throwing in a little dip that made you both laugh before he kissed you, leaving you a bit breathless when he pulled you back up to standing. 
“You bring me home,” he sang, slightly off pitch and so quiet you could barely hear, but it was so sweet that it even brought a few tears to your eyes. You blinked them away so you could see his face as you both smiled. 
The energy picked up a bit as the songs continued to shuffle, Carolina coming on next. You both jumped around hand in hand, looking like total idiots you were sure, stomachs sore from laughing at and with each other by the end. You paused a few times throughout the next songs to watch the slideshow, laughing at some of the pictures he’d chosen, remembering the stories behind them.  
When Sunflower came on, Ethan opened his arms again for a dance and you quirked an eyebrow.
“You know, Mr. Styles doesn’t have as many romantic songs as I thought he did. This one’s not bad though,” Ethan mumbled as the two of you swayed back and forth quickly, spinning around and around.
“This song isn’t even romantic, it’s about him missing his ex,” you explained.
“You analyzed those lyrics hard huh.”
“Oh don’t act like you haven’t dissected every Cudi song five times over.” You squinted your eyes at him in accusation and he just laughed.
“Touché, touché. Maybe the sunflowers weren’t the best Harry related gesture then huh.”
“I still think they’re beautiful,” you reassured him. 
“Thought it would kinda be weird to give you a watermelon. Though, I guess that would have sent a much clearer message.” 
The mischief in his eyes told you he knew exactly what that song was about.
“A little on the nose, don’t yah think?” You scrunched up your nose at him as if to prove your point. He reached out for your hand and you laced your fingers with his.
“Never.” 
And then he was walking, half pulling half guiding you back into the house, through the glass doors, down the hallway, into the bedroom. Your skin was hot, partially from the change in temperature, partially from the hands that were wandering over your skin as soon as the door was closed.
Ethan’s hands traced down your arms, fingertips over skin, then over fabric when he got to your waist, further down to your thighs and then you were gasping as he found his way under your skirt. His hands spread out, large and commanding over your ass, resting there for a moment, squeezing before he moved north, fingers hooking into your panties, guiding them down until they fell off and you could step out of them. 
Your fingers found the buttons of his shirt, blindly undoing them as he kissed you. You found yourself pausing, hands tracing over the new yet familiar skin that revealed itself with each one you managed to loosen until finally, finally it was open and you could push it off his shoulders. 
His hand found the bow, roughly starting to tug until you reached back and caught him.
“Baby don’t pull. It’s sewed, it doesn’t come undone,” you cautioned, barely pulling back, unwilling to put any space between the two of you. 
“Stupid,” he grumbled, pouting a bit until he realized that he could pull the fabric off your shoulders, freeing your chest. He hummed a bit in satisfaction, hands moving to squeeze your tits, and then he was kissing them, sinking lower, lower until his knees hit the floor.
“Oh fuck,” you squeaked, knowing exactly what was about to happen. 
Ethan looked up at you from his knees with a teasing grin and a quirked eyebrow, waiting for your permission. You nodded, trying to breathe as his hands ghosted up your thighs, up to your hips. 
And then he ducked his head so he could get under the fabric of your skirt, ready to get to work.
Your knees buckled as soon as you felt him, tongue warm and flat against you. One of his hands came down, tracing over your skin until he got to your calf, lifting it just barely and pushing it out to widen your stance.
You whimpered as he sped up, his satisfied hums adding to the sensation in a way that had your legs starting to shake already. Your hands dropped to his head, and you pushed the fabric off the top of it so you could get to his hair, tugging. It just made him go harder, burying himself deeper. You folded forward, bracing on his shoulders, overwhelmed as you alternated holding you breathe and gasping for air, squirming.
“E, Ethan stop, my legs are gonna give out, wait,” you gasped, pulling on his hair. 
He paused, ducking out from under your dress and smiling up at you, lips swollen and pride booming.
“That’s the best compliment you’ve ever given me I think. But I’m not done yet, lay down.” 
You did as he said, turning around and climbing onto the middle of the bed before collapsing onto your back, rolling over and looking for him. Ethan was one second behind you, crawling above you to hover over you then duck down to kiss you hard yet somehow sweet at the same time.
It was instinct to reach down to his waist, let your fingers ghost over his waistband, tuck underneath it in a blind search. He sucked in a breath through his teeth when you wrapped your fingers around the tip. He shook his head at you, making you pout.
“Tonights about you, not me.”
“But I want to.”
“Raincheck. Best fucking raincheck ever, but raincheck. Just lemme take care of you.” 
He kisses you until you forget your argument - you’re putty in his hands as his lips trail back down. He pushes all the fabric of your dress together so it’s just a band around your tummy and then he picked up where he left off.
“Fuck E, just like that, oh god.” You were squirming again in a matter of moments, his stubble rough against your thighs as he worked you over. He felt your body tense up under his hold, smiling as he gave it all he had, giving that extra little push that sent you tumbling, clenching, writhing over the edge. 
He peppered kisses to your thighs as you caught your breath, and then he reached up, fists closing around all the fabric of your dress.
“Lift your hips up,” he instructed, waiting for you to bridge up so he could wiggle the dress off over your hips. He tossed it towards the closet, moving back up towards your face, bed dipping down with his weight.
“No fair,” you pouted, reaching down to tug at his shorts and boxers. 
“And I’m the impatient one.” 
He stood back up off the bed, quickly shoving down the clothing he had left and stepping out of it. 
“Much better.” You grinned wide when you saw he was blushing at your words. “C’mere.” 
He happily listened, crawling back above you and dropping a bit of his weight down as he sunk to his forearms. 
“So missionary is the way to your heart huh? So vanilla.” He bumped his nose against yours.
“You have a pretty face, sue me,” you laughed, bringing your hands up to his neck and pulling him down for a kiss as he dropped his hips, searching for just a moment before he pushed inside. 
You’d lost count of how many times the two of you had been just like this, intertwined and enthralled with each other, but you knew you’d never get tired of it as long as you lived.
“I love you.” It came out as a breath when he bottomed out, his lips resting on your shoulder, back curled up at an angle that let you feel every muscle, every ridge of his body. 
“I love you. You’re my dream, you know that?” He started to rock his hips, unwilling to go too far from you as you clung to his back, relishing in the feeling of him on you, in you, all around you. 
This would always be your favorite way to be with him - sweet and soft, just your bodies together, nothing else. You couldn’t think of anything better.
He shifted just barely, thrusting in at a different angle. You knew he was searching, and you gasped when he brushed against your g spot, your whole body shuddering.
“There she is,” he whispered, a prideful grin on his face as he hit it over and over. Watching you come undone below him would always be one of his favorite views. “Look at me baby, I wanna see you.” 
You did your best in your blissed out state to listen to him, turning your head from where it had fallen against the pillow to look at him while he picked up pace. Your legs curled around his back, holding him to you, urging him as deep as he could go as you chased the orgasm that was building in your gut.
He stared at you for a few moments, and then as if he couldn’t help it he ducked down to kiss you, open mouthed and rough as he pulled his hips back, thrusting forward with more force than he’d used yet. 
“Oh fuck Ethan, fuck,” you moaned, holding onto him for dear life. When he snaked one hand between the two of you to find your clit, you were done for. 
His breath caught in his throat as you clenched around him and you heard the whimpers through your cloudy haze, mixtures of pleasure and your name as he came undone, hip stuttering and then stopping when he finally hit his high. 
Once he’s caught his breath he rolls the both of you over so you’re resting on his chest, listening to his heart rate settle back down under your ear. 
“I’m so glad you came home early,” you sighed, hugging his bare torso as he chuckled.
“Me too baby. Me too.”
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heartbreakgrill · 4 years
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Serious; Luke Hemmings (Pt. 2)
a/n: I have so much drama in my heart❤️
description: he came with the fall of the leaves and left with winter cold. maybe, this time, he’d stay.
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It didn’t feel like five days had passed; but they did.
Luke came each morning, every single one. The first one, a Tuesday, he was bearing coffee and donuts- your favorite flavor of each. The fact that he remembered surprised, as well as the gentle kiss he lay upon your forehead when you answered the door.
You hadn’t expected him that early- 7 am. He’d remembered you woke up at that time, too. You’d slept for nearly 12 hours, exhausted from your reunion on Monday, and already feeling the emotional distress you’d experience in a week. When he knocked, you were still in bed, having naturally woken, but snuggled up in your phone. The sheets still smelled like him, so you slept on the side in which he’d lay. It was warm when you first moved, not long after he’d left, but the heat slipped into your bones and replaced itself with the shape of the air in your apartment.
You fumbled out of bed, slipping on the forgotten socks from yesterday, a random t-shirt- his, random, Van Halen shirt- and pajama bottoms. You hastily tied your hair back as you neared the door, barely peering through the peephole before swinging it open.
He smiled softly at you, adored by the way your face was flushed and puffy, sleep in your eyes and a yawn creeping up your throat. He stepped in, hands full of a bag of donuts and a holder for two coffees. Luke stepped inside, towering over you, and kissing your forehead. You blushed, shutting the door softly as he found his place at a stool at your kitchen island.
“Good morning, sunshine,” he finally spoke.
You burned under his stare, carefully removing your coffee cup and accepting the donut he held out to you. “G’morning.”
“Did you sleep well? You fell fast in my lap,” he laughed a little bit, but his voice was gruff from obvious exhaustion.
You shrugged and sat next to him. He turned on his still to face you, knees knocking against your own. There were slits in his black jeans, allowing the white skin beneath to kiss your own. It was a simple gesture, but your heart swooned.
Why was he being so affectionate?
“Yeah, I did,” you furrowed your brows, teeth biting off a hunk of donut.
As you chewed, he replied, “Good. I’m obviously still tired. Jet lags a bitch.”
Luke watched as you ate, drank every once and again, your eyes boring into the kitchen floor and feet swinging back and forth. Your brows stayed drawn together, expression full of something he couldn’t quite reach.
“You okay?” His voice dropped in volume, stepping carefully around you.
You swallowed firmly before meeting his gaze, head turning up. “Why are you being so affectionate?”
Luke grinned at this. You automatically bit your lip, face scrunching up in a, ‘oops.’
He reached for your hand, twisting the fingers between his own. “I wanna make last year up to you. It was a shitty thing to do, when I stopped messaging back. I mean, everything I did was shitty. So I’m trying to redeem myself.”
You frowned deeply, “So it’s...pity?”
Luke suddenly looked shocked, his face that of a heartbroken puppy dog. He had changed so much; the strong, guarded heart of a rockstar had morphed into a confident, yet somewhat vulnerable sweetheart.
You firmly gripped his hand, as he stuttered. “No-no. I’m sorry it seems like that. It’s not like I’m doing this just because I feel bad. I do have feelings for you, I-“
“Feelings?” You braced yourself, a smile inching up your neck.
Luke flushed this time, the heat prickling the tips of his ears which stuck out from the hair tucked behind them. He shrugged, “Yeah. I’ve always had feelings for you and just being around you again brought them back.”
“And this time you’re not completely taken up,” you mumbled. You stood from the stool and wrapped your arms around his shoulders.
He embraced your waist, thumbs circling into your hipbones. “I’m all yours.”
“Okay,” you scrunched your noses before leaning into a kiss.
You didn’t believe him.
-
On Wednesday, you decided to actually go out and do something. He had to be back earlier today for an extra long sound check, because at yesterday’s show, his mic was screwed up. So, you got dressed before he was even there, messages from last night planning out your day.
He’d unblocked you on Snapchat, followed you with his private account on Instagram. Luke had sent you dozens of videos and photos from the night prior: A mirror selfie with the caption, ‘I kinda wanna do makeup onstage;’ a video of his outfit, the crowd from backstage, when he was out drinking afterwards. You sent back just as many selfies, feeling elated by the attention and affection (pretty girl, baby, heart eyes, kisses, blushing emojis.)
You were trying to grasp into the moments as best you could because you knew it would be over. Yeah, you’d talk for a month or two, and then he’d get back into the LA nightlife and fall back into step with his groupies for the rest of your. You would take what you could, knowing you could never have his entire heart.
You took Luke to private locations most tourists wouldn’t frequent: Underground coffee and record shops, trying way too many frappes and kissing foam off his lips. He wore a baseball cap, sunglasses, and an all black outfit, trying to just fit in with the rest of the crowds. At one point, someone pointed at Luke, but you watched to see him and his friend seemed to agree that it wasn’t Luke.
Your day ended at 1 pm, on the steps leading up to your apartment building. You were on the step above him, bags hanging off your wrists from the things he’d insisted on buying you. Luke had a hold on your waist, pressing kiss after kiss to your lips.
Though you were giggling, leaning in for more, you felt so out of place.
After he left, you unpacked the few things he bought you and showered. Your skin felt loose, like it was void of a brain and skeleton, yours hanging up in the closet. You scrubbed at it just to feel a little bit of stinging as if it would ground you.
It was an awful feeling, being a stranger to yourself.
But this was so unlike you.
You, adult you, mature you would turn him away and tell him to fuck off. You’d been a side chick without even knowing it until he went back home, and continued to put out for a taken man until he turned you away. And he broke your heart, telling you he couldn’t leave his girlfriend for, ‘some fling he’d had.’
Yeah, ghosting you didn’t mean he didn’t give you his two-cents before doing so.
But you were so, so lonely. And men like him came once every lifetime.
So, on Thursday, you woke up with the intentions of going to his show.
He’d texted you to let you know he couldn’t bring you coffee today because the guys were suspecting him of something. You sent back a frowning selfie in his tshirt, teasing him with skin and lips.
He came over an hour later.
Hands, hips, perfume and cologne infused into bare skin and transferring between oils and kisses.
He’d told them he was meeting a friend, even had someone to cover for him, and got out just to see you naked beneath him.
It felt good being his priority, even if it was only for three percent of his life.
When your chest returned to a normal breathing pattern, you curled into his side again, let his hands cover your back and hair, his lips your own in lazy patterns of some sleepless song. Your lips formed words now, exchanging secret dreams in the morning.
“I don’t know how you handle the fame,” you’d said after a few words exchanged about his career.
Something about guitars splintering his fingers (which you knew, you’d felt them) and being exhausted all the time, unless he was home for more than two days.
Luke huffed, “I don’t know either. I can’t even get a fucking slice of pizza without being followed.”
“I almost,” you hesitated, “I almost feel bad for you.”
His warm breath rolled over your skin and it shifted in rhythm when you said this. “Why?”
“I don’t know,” you wiggled around slightly, “I just wish you could have your career without all the crazy fans.”
“Yeah, me, too,” Luke agreed. “Don’t get me wrong, I love them. Without them, I’d have nothing. But the ones who come to the airport and follow us around and spam our inboxes on Twitter make me want to give up everything just to have a normal life.”
“I know I could never do it,” you laughed.
But the air froze. “What do you mean?”
“I,” you began and moved in his arms to look at him better, “I could never give up my privacy for fame. For anything, honestly. I wanna be able to go on dates or walk down the street without photos being taken. God, how do you even have a private relationship like that?”
Luke sat up, his arms lightly pushing you off of him. You hugged the sheets to your body, taken back by his attitude.
“So you couldn’t be in a relationship with me?”
Your brows furrowed, fingers lightly resting onto his bicep. “What?”
“You couldn’t bear all that, sacrifice all that, for me?” Lukes faze was fierce, sharp.
Luke suddenly stood, shoving on clothes and shoes in a flash. You stood, following him to the door, “Luke! Luke, what’s going on?”
Your mouth hung open, grasping for words that wouldn’t come. “I...I don’t know that you can ask that of me.”
He stopped at the front door, hand grasping the handle so that his knuckles were white. Luke turned to face you, his expression making your shoulders roll forward in vulnerability.
“What are doing this for, then? You just using me for a couple days?”
You scoffed, anger fueling confidence you wished you didn’t have. “Oh, be fucking honest to yourself, Luke. Do you really think this is going past next week? You’ll forget about me again, or you’ll suddenly tell me you’re in a relationship and my time will have been wasted. Thanks for the sex, but maybe it’s my turn to break your heart.”
“Oh, so it is just for these two weeks, then? When did you plan on telling me you didn’t want me like I want you?” Luke spat back.
You laughed sardonically, “Oh, come on! When are you going to lose the facade? Luke, we haven’t spoken in a year, and when we did speak, it was for maybe two months. You barely know a thing about me. You don’t know my mannerisms or where i even want to be in five years. But, hey! Maybe you’ll stop by again, every year, make it a fucking tradition. Come back when you’re in New York or simply when you’re horny, I’ll get you off, and you can ask me how the careers going.”
Luke went quiet. He cleared his throat, but the simple noise cracked from the tears in his eyes. “I have to go to sound check. Can we just stop this for now? Please.”
“I don’t think I can come to the show tonight,” you replied, backing away with a few steps.
Luke nodded, “I figured.”
Despite the tension, the unfinished argument, the inevitable heartbreak, you both reached for the other and embraced a tight ‘for-now’ truce. He kissed you and left.
And he came back the next day, and the next.
TAGLIST: @mantlereid , @boxofteenageideas @dinosaursandsocks , @ashhdaniellee95 @stephaniemelvie @zhangyixingxing1 @verlaneswiftie13 @kingxnichole
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nat-roman0ff · 5 years
Text
honk honk
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honk honk 
-
the sequel to ’beep beep’ that no one asked for
after a chance encounter and forgetting to get your phone number, shawn sets off on a quest to find you.
-
words: 2,220
warnings: extreme dumbassery, fender benders, and Instagram.
-
“Brian, please stop laughing, this is serious.”
 Shawn rolls his eyes and smacks the gum in his mouth as his best friend of fourteen years laughs hysterically on the other side of the phone. 
 “Bro,” Brian hiccups between breaths, “this total stranger helped you find your car which you are an idiot for losing, by the way, and you’re like suddenly convinced she’s the one? You’ve completely lost it.”
 “I’m not though!” Shawn defends, “She’s just...different.”
 Brian sighs, “yeah aren’t they all.”
 “Not like that!”
 Brian clicks his tongue, “well what’s her name? Can you find her on Instagram or something?”
 “I don’t know her first name.”
 There’s a pregnant pause, “you really are a fucking idiot.”
“I know she drives a shitty Camry! And she’s a personal shopper.” 
 Shawn can hear Brian smack his forehead through the phone, “well then start back at the beginning.”
 Shawn gulps and Brian answers. 
 “The mall, moron. Go back tomorrow around the same time and see if you can find her.”
 Shawn lets out the breath he’s been holding onto since he watched you pull away, “Brian, you’re a genius!”
 “Yeah, don’t mention it.”
 -
 Your day started pretty normally; gym, coffee shop, pick up dry cleaning. You hadn’t been able to get Shawn out of your head for days now, and you hoped he made it back home to Toronto for family time.
 You thought about sending him an Instagram DM, but figured he probably got thousands a day and your measly little “remember me?” would go unnoticed in the sea of messages. He was also Shawn fucking Mendes, who had women richer and much more interesting at his disposal, what’d he want with you?
 It was hard not to think about it, with his stupid face popping up everywhere and his stupid songs coming onto the radio. But you did your best to rid Shawn from your headspace. 
 So, it had been a normal day until your best friend called you, completely frantic. 
 “CHECK HIS INSTAGRAM OH MY GOD!” She yells before you can even answer with a hello. 
 “Huh?” You say, fumbling with the keys in your hand, “what the hell are you talking about?”
 “Shawn!” She yells, blasting your ear drum, “he posted about you on Instagram!”
 Your heart stops beating for a split second when you drop your keys and all the bags to the ground to pull up his page. His latest post was put up an hour ago, and is a simple selfie with the following caption:
 Hey, I hope you follow me otherwise this would be really embarrassing. I feel like an idiot for not getting your phone number when we met and I really want to see you again. I waited for you where we met the last few days for hours on end but I never saw you. I hope you’re still around. If you do see this, pack an overnight bag and your passport and go to where we first met at 4:30 pm today. I did promise you a date, after all. - Shawn
 “Oh my god. Oh my fucking God.”
 “It’s crazy!” Your friend says, “the power of the internet, huh? So what are you gonna do?”
 “I don’t know! Why do I need an overnight bag?”
 “Bitch,” you friend starts, “if you do not go and meet him I will completely disown you.”
 “Well when you put it that way -“
 “Shut up,” she laughs, “you haven’t been able to stop talking about this guy and now he’s trying to find you? Modern romance at its finest. Love!”
 You roll your eyes, “fine! I’ll go meet him. Let me go so I can pack a bag.”
 “Alright, love you, tell me everything when you get back.”
 -
 Shawn checks his phone six times before shoving it into his pocket. He’d sent Jake to go pick you up at the parking garage while he finished up the last second arrangements. He’d chewed his nail beds to shit with nerves and prayed you’d seen his message and actually wanted to show up. 
 You’d managed to shove two extra outfits and a couple of essentials into a bag, secured your passport and made it to the garage with fifteen minutes to spare. You stood at the elevator waiting, adjusting the straps of your bag over and over, not that it was ever going to feel comfortable with the nerves you were feeling. This was the craziest thing you’d ever done. Where were you going? Where was he taking you?
 Home. Shawn thinks. 
 One of the best pieces of advice he’d gotten when the fame started becoming just a little too much to bare was not to find home in a place but in people. Home wasn’t a smelly tour bus, or hotel rooms and it certainly wasn’t Los Angeles. 
 He saw a little bit of home in you. Even if it was just a neighboring window, for now. 
 It’s about five minutes past 4:30 when a black SUV pulls up beside you. The passenger window rolls down and a burly bald man looks over from the drivers seat. 
 “Hey are you here for Shawn?”
 You gulp and nod, “you know him?”
 He smiles a trusting smile and laughs, “unfortunately. I’m Jake, come on in the kid’s got a surprise for you.”
 You crawl into the front seat, unsure to trust the man but hey, what’s the worst that could happen? 
 A lot of things now that you were thinking about it.
 Jake isn’t a man of many words. He asks your name and you make small talk about your lives. You find out he’s a Taurus and his favorite book is Of Mice and Men. You tell him about your studies at university and your grandma’s famous shortbread recipe (which he makes you promise you’ll make for him), and he makes the short drive to the airport relatively painless. 
 He takes you to a different section of LAX, one that you’ve never been to before. There’s a small fleet of private jets scattered across the tarmac and a small, relatively empty terminal. Jake shows you inside, where the only person waiting for you is Shawn, tapping away mindlessly on his phone, his left knee bouncing up and down. 
 “I found someone for you,” Jake starts and Shawn’s head immediately perks up. 
 His hand clutches his chest and he walks up to you with bright, yet tired, honey eyes, “you have no idea how long I’ve waited for this - ” 
 You press your index finger to his lips to shush him, replacing them with your lips when he stops talking. 
 At least that’s how Shawn pictured it happening.
 In reality, it’s quarter past five and you hadn’t shown up yet, Brian was feigning sleep in the passenger’s seat of the Range Rover, and Shawn had about two ounces of patience left in him.
 “She probably didn’t feel anything at all. Was probably happy to get rid of me when we found the car, this is stupid,” Shawn grumbles as he sits on the hood of the SUV.
 Brian mimics playing the violin, “no shit, Sherlock. Not everyone is entranced by your,” he waves his hands in the air, “aura and, like, wicked cool hair.” 
 Shawn rolls his eyes, “it just felt normal. I haven’t felt that in forever.” 
 “My heart is breaking for you,” his best friend deadpans. 
 He shoots Brian a glare through the windshield.
 Discouraged, Shawn jumps down off the hood and gets back into the car. Unbeknownst to him, you’ve been waiting upstairs for nearly an hour now, on the level where you actually met. The boy’s attention to detail was not all quite there.
 You debated giving up, he probably backed out, realized you were some nobody and he was like the universe’s biggest pop star at the moment. You felt stupid and played for getting your hopes up. You hate your friend for talking you into this and you hate Shawn for making it so damn public. The Instagram post has racked up over a million likes by now and countless comments and the whole thing makes you kind of queasy. This is so, so stupid and you can’t believe you’re caught up in it all.
 Aggravated, pissed off and a teensy weensy bit hurt, you look at the packed overnight bag beside you, turn the car on and pull out of your parking spot.
 The garage is busy this time of day, and you silently murder Shawn ten times over in your head for making you meet him at this time, and then not even having the audacity to show up. Your grip on the steering wheel tightens as you’re bumper to bumper with the car in front and behind you, car screaming as it idles. 
 “Why the fuck is everyone leaving at the same time!” Shawn shouts from behind the wheel one floor above you.
 Brian rolls his eyes at his friend for the umpteenth time today, “because normal people work nine to five and it’s...five twenty right now.” 
 Shawn throws his head back against the headrest and groans, “I hate everything.” 
 “Oh come on, life isn’t that bad. So you got stood up by a girl who you’ve spent a total of three hours with. You don’t even know her name! No loss. Move on, man.” 
 Shawn doesn’t want Brian to be right, he wants him to be so wrong. He wants to believe that you’ve just hit a spot of traffic, or that you don’t have Instagram or anything. You can’t fake what happened between you two, even if he didn’t quite know what that is yet. It was the first time he’s laughed, first time he’s fucking forgotten who he was for half a second. And in the best way. He wasn’t looking over his shoulder waiting for a pap or a fan to spot him a click a picture, he was just Shawn and you were just...well, you.
 He sighs, “I guess you’re right.” 
 He’s not.
 Your brakes creak as you ride around the corner, a line of cars trying to slide out in front of you from the upper floor. As always the respectful driver, you let one person in, but three slip in front and you’re left stomping on your breaks and screaming obscenities.
 “Dude you have to stop being such a pussy, just pull out in front of them!” Brian instructs as Shawn taps the brakes.
 He scoffs, “absolutely not, I’m not getting my car all dented up just because you decided not to go to the bathroom before we left.” 
 Brian pouts and folds his arms across his chest, “I didn’t have to go before,” he grumbles to himself. 
 Just as you hit the gas to lurch forward before someone else can sneak in front of your car, you feel a bump against the back end of your vehicle. 
 “Oh you have got to be kidding me!” You scream to yourself. 
 By now cars are honking since you aren’t moving, you manage to pull off to the side and the guilty vehicle that hit you pulls up alongside, tinted windows up and in full effect.
 LA dickwad.
 The passenger’s side door opens and a young man pops out that you don’t recognize, and turning the corner behind the car comes Shawn.
 “You hit my car! And you’re...here?” 
 Shawn looks awestruck at you, “did you see my post?!” 
 “Yes!” You squawk, “of course I saw it why the hell else would I be here? Where have you been? You’re late, and you dented my car!” 
 “Late?” He scoffs, “I was perfectly on time, you’re the one who is late. I was on my way out.” 
 “Ditto!” 
 Brian looks at you, to your car and then back to Shawn as he puts it together, “ohhh I get it now. Crappy car, weird sense of arousing fear while in her presence, that’s the girl.” 
 “My car is not crappy!” You snip. 
 Brian goes to say something but Shawn shakes his head at his friend. 
 “So you came?” Shawn’s voice is light, and his eyes are wide.
 You roll yours, “yes of course I did! Where were you?” 
 He points up.
 You bury your hands in your face, “wrong floor, idiot.” 
 Shawn’s face scrunches and you can pinpoint the second the lightbulb goes off in his head, “FUCK.”
 “Yeah, fuck is right, dumbass.” 
 Brian snorts. 
 Shawn steps forward and puts his hands on either side of your pouting face, “well can I at least finally get your name and phone number?” 
 You nod between his massive palms, “yeah, you’re going to need it when I file an insurance claim against you for denting my car.” 
 He laughs and releases you, “still want to go on a date with me?” 
 You teeter back and forth on your heels, knowing you’re going to say yes but also wanting to watch Shawn sweat a bit, “maybe, I don’t know…”
 “Don’t make me hit the other side of your car -” 
 “I’m kidding, I’d be very happy to still go on a date with you. Just leave Sir Louis out of it,” you smile, “where are we going?” 
 Brian puffs up his chest and steps in between the both of you, “we’re going to Canada, baby!”
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sincerelyreidburke · 4 years
Text
got hitched
Quick ficlet for my Bencole people. Featuring domestic Quindo. Cross-posted to the ao3 cricket ficlet collection.
//
eight years after graduation | august
 Sebastián is completely unsuspecting, when the Snapchat comes in.
The house is quiet, and he and Quinn are in bed. He figures they’ll actually go to sleep soon, or at least soonish, but for now, they sit up against their pillows, with the light still on. It’s long past Violet’s bedtime; Quinn put her down at least an hour and a half ago, and after sitting out on the patio with him for a bit, Sebastián carried his husband to bed for little to no reason other than he just felt like carrying him.
He’s watching a Coyotes preseason weekly recap on his phone, and next to him, Quinn is knitting. His yarn is royal blue and bright red; he’s working on a scarf he keeps swearing he’s going to mail up to Remy to wear to games when his season starts. To celebrate his contract , Quinn said, when he told Sebastián what he’d be doing, all self-satisfied smiles. I think he could use something new in Montreal colors, don’t you?
His needles clack together every now and then, and the audio on Sebastián’s phone is low, but it’s not like Quinn would be bothered by that anyway, seeing as he took his hearing aids out for the night hours ago. Their house, Sebastián is happily aware, is a safe zone for Quinn, has been since the day they bought it to build their life in together.
A notification buzzes his phone, and the banner at the top tells him he has a Snapchat from Ben. Which isn’t weird, until it is— because what time is it in France right now? It has to be, like, kind of early in the morning, right? In what world is Ben up early on vacation?
He opens Snapchat to investigate. The Snap has been sent into a group chat, but not a new one; it’s one containing himself, Ben, and Quinn, and has to have existed since college even though it hasn’t been used in a short while.
He opens the Snap. It loads. As it loads, he wonders if this is a leftover message from Cole’s show last night. That was, after all, the whole reason Ben crossed the Atlantic Ocean for vacation in the first place. It’s Cole’s first tour outside the US, and Ben and Remy created this whole scheme for Ben to surprise him, which Remy was on board with because he will use literally any excuse to travel to Europe, especially France, and Sebastián has heard about this over several elaborate text exchanges, phone calls, Snapchats, et cetera—
The Snap loads.
Sebastián looks at it.
Wait. Wait . WHAT?
It expires before he can fully process, but he knows what he saw. He scrambles to replay it, leaning forward and off the pillow.
It’s a picture, a selfie, of Ben in bed with Cole wrapped up in his arm. They’re both, like, clothed and everything, and they look all soft and in love, but that’s not the main point of interest.
Because Ben is holding both of their hands up to the camera, and although Cole has had his black engagement ring for upwards of two years, Ben… is also wearing a ring. And Cole is holding a piece of paper. A certificate.
The caption Ben has typed reads: got hitched
Cole is holding a marriage certificate .
Sebastián screenshots the picture before it can disappear again, and then immediately starts tapping-slash-whacking Quinn in the thigh to get his attention. He’s gentle about it, but he still feels bad when Quinn startles and shoots daggers up at him. He drops his needles and signs. What’s wrong?
In lieu of signing a response, he turns the phone to Quinn, because it’s easier than attempting to convey via sign his current stream of consciousness (Ben got married is he kidding how did he just get married in the middle of Paris on a whim oh my God he is going to bust his ass so much but also he’s pissed because he wanted to go to his actual wedding and Ben Shaley Is Actually Fucking Married he can’t believe it like yeah he knew this was coming because he’s been engaged for two years but like— Rho got married !!!!!!!?!??!????!!?!).
Quinn studies the photo, then his eyes widen with realization. In a moment, he shifts from his complete bedtime serenity to animated, excited confusion. He looks up to Sebastián, then back to the phone, then up to him again, and signs, in quick and snappy motions, They eloped? , and then, immediately, Call Ben.
Sebastián nods, as Quinn lunges to the bedside table and grabs his hearing aids. He opens the phone app, and picks Ben out of his favorites, and as it rings, he just sits there vibrating. He can’t believe it. He actually can’t believe it. Ben just went and got married. Like— okay, that’s admittedly the most Ben way he could possibly think to get married, but— is this real life?
Ben picks up on the second ring, as Sebastián is putting the call on speaker. “Helloooooo!” His voice is singsong, like he knows exactly what he did. Which, like, obviously he knows what he did. But Sebastián is still shook —
“ Dude !” he cries, half-laughing, as Quinn leans back over to him and scoots closer on the mattress. “How could you just send that out of context?”
Ben laughs. “In my defense,” he remarks, his voice the picture of chill, “it really doesn’t require that much context, right?”
Quinn fiddles with his ears, and then he must get them turned on, because he chooses that exact moment to cry, “Benjamin Shaley.”
“Mini!” The joy in Ben's voice is indescribable. “I knew you’d bitch me out for this!”
“I cannot believe you,” Quinn says. “You did not elope last night.”
“Oh, but I did,” Ben remarks, every bit the wise-ass he’s always been, and he sounds so happy , and Sebastián is, like, so fucking happy for him right now—
“Rho— congratulations , holy shit,” he tells him. “Did you plan this?”
“No,” Ben laughs. “Not even a little. And I think that’s maybe the best part. Hold on.” There’s rustling and mumbling on his end for a second, and then a fourth voice enters the conversation.
“Good morning, guys.” Cole’s voice is super raspy, like he just woke up. Sebastián tries to do some quick math, but all he can determine about time zones is that it has to be early over there. “Sorry we didn’t tell you.”
“Cole, I can’t believe this,” Quinn says. “How could you let his chaos influence you?”
“Mm.” Cole pauses, contemplatively, and then yawns. “I’ll actually be letting his chaos influence me for the rest of my life, now.”
Quinn takes a deep, therapeutic breath. Sebastián wraps an arm around his shoulders. He has, many times, seen his husband get simultaneously pissed and excited; it’s a hilarious thing to witness. “I love you both,” Quinn says, in a slightly less sharp voice. “And I’m so very happy for you. But words cannot describe how much I wanted to actually attend your wedding.”
“We’re gonna have a party, Q,” Ben replies, like he was ready for this question. “When we get home. Well. Like. Not right when we get home. But we’re gonna start planning it when we get home.”
Quinn pauses, like he’s contemplating this, and in the silence, Cole adds, “It was a spur-of-the-moment decision.”
“Well, I’ll say,” Quinn says. Sebastián thumbs at his shoulder, to soothe the good-natured rage. “My goodness , you two. I should have known you’d get married some crazy way.”
“Tell us the story!” Sebastián adds, because he is extremely eager to know.
Cole lets out a soft laugh. “It’s not a long story,” he says.
“We were at dinner,” Ben explains. “Last night, after the show, with Remy. And Cole just… out of nowhere. He was like, we should get married.”
“ Cole Kolinsky ,” Quinn gasps. “Your mother is going to kill you.”
“She knows!” Cole cries. “She knows. I promise. She’s the only person who knew before you. Her and Remy.”
“Was Rem with you?” Sebastián asks.
“He was with us when we decided to do it,” Ben says. “But not at the town hall.”
“That little shit,” Sebastián cries. “Where is he now?”
“Out galavanting in the streets, I bet,” Ben mutters, and Cole laughs at him.
“I’m sure Remy is asleep,” Cole amends. “We were out so late last night.”
Quinn rubs his temple, leans into Sebastián’s embrace, and whispers, “I cannot believe you two.”
“Oh, you love us, Quinny,” Ben says. “Don’t even try to hide it.”
“Of course I do,” Quinn replies, in that tone so characteristic of him , where he’s firm and kind at the exact same time. “My goodness,” he says. “You’re entirely too much for me.”
Cole laughs again. “I promise, Quinn,” he says, “it’ll be a really good party.”
“Oh, it best be.” The grin on Quinn’s face is so cute, Sebastián could combust. “I have very high standards.”
“Ah, yes,” Ben says, in a posh accent, “nothing but the best for the esteemed Quinny Cooper—”
“ Ben ,” Cole mumbles, and Ben laughs so loud.
“I’m so—” The initial shock has sort of worn off, but Sebastián still feels like he’s processing several things at once. “I’m so happy for you guys, jeez ! Why are you awake so early, anyway? It’s your honeymoon morning!”
“I have to—” Cole breaks his sentence with a yawn, like talking about being up early is making him more tired. “I have to be on my tour bus at eight-thirty.”
“Oh, Cole ,” Quinn whispers. “That’s a real wrench in your morning, huh?”
“Is what it is,” Cole replies.
“Wait, so… what time is it now?” As soon as he mentioned the fact that it’s their honeymoon morning, it started occurring to Sebastián that he and Quinn are… keeping them on the phone. On their first morning as a married couple. He loves his friends to death, but nobody interrupted him and Quinn the morning after they got married. It was just the two of them; even Vi was at Mama’s house for a sleepover. The only thing they had to do was bask in that fresh joy.
“It’s seven,” Ben announces. “Seven-oh-nine.”
“Okay, so,” he says, “I’m gonna, like, hang up the phone now.”
“ Nanny ,” Ben says, with a snort. “We knew you’d want to talk.”
“Yeah, but we talked,” he replies, “and now I’m hanging up so you guys don’t have to, like, talk to us until Cole leaves.”
“Hm.” Ben pauses, and then, in his peak wise-ass tone, remarks, “What if I hang up first?”
“Oh, goodness , you two,” Quinn mumbles, into Sebastián’s shoulder, “don’t get into one of these arguments.”
“Bro, you hang up first.”
“No, you hang up first—”
5,000 miles away, in a hotel bed in Paris, Ben Kolinsky hangs up the phone. He rolls over in bed and grins at his husband. “How did I do?”
Next to him under the nice white sheets, Cole is the best thing he has ever seen. He laughs, with his hand over his face, before he reaches for him. When they meet in the middle of the mattress, Cole presses a kiss to his lips. “You are an idiot,” he whispers.
“Mmm.” Ben kisses him again, and Cole wraps around him, and he thinks there’s absolutely no way heaven could be any better than this. “That’s a title I’ll proudly own, but only with an amendment.”
Cole tangles his fingers in Ben’s hair, long and now sort of messy from sleep, but who gives one single fuck what their hair looks like when they just got married to the love of their life last night. “What’s the amendment?” he asks, between kisses.
“That I’m your idiot.”
“ Oh .” Cole laughs. His eyes wrinkle shut, and Ben is going to be gone on him for the rest of his days. “You’re definitely my idiot.”
“Perfect,” Ben says, and kisses him again, and he doesn’t need anything else.
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ultradiplr · 5 years
Text
#1 Fan
Plot: You catch the eye of your favorite baseball star Siebren de Kuiper before a game~
Tags: Sort-of-Sexting, Age Difference. Semi-Public. BJ. Overuse of the smiling emoji. Reader radiates big bottom energy, but is otherwise gender neutral. Sigma is a… Fuckboi. lol
A/N: I have no self control and even though I have like five other things I’m working on right now @sketchingshow ‘s Baseball!Sigma has given fuel to a new fire.
Xx
You look at the clock over the ticket booth and grimace, looking down at the digital ticket you had pulled up on your phone screen, mentally face palming at how you had gotten 12:30 and 2:30 mixed up. You sighed and walked up to the qr scanner, verifying yourself, and walked through the rotating metal pipes of the entrance, figuring since you were already here you might as well check in. It’s not like you could go home and wait considering it took you an hour to get here.
Oh, the things you were willing to put up with so you could see your favorite baseball player Siebren de Kuiper in his last season.
There were a bunch of people here already, staff and fans alike, though mostly for the home team, so you weren’t that anxious at being so early. You walked through the entrance hall, taking a few photos of some of the player posters hanging, and out through a vomitorium that lead into the stadium. You looked out over the empty field, bright and green and surrounded by high walls of seats, and took a quick selfie with the vast expanse of the stadium behind you, at least being this early meant no one knocking you down or being in the way for a cute photo. 
You wandered down closer to the field, taking in the smell of freshly cut and watered grass, and took a load off in one of the more expensive seats. The home team was currently practicing before the game so you didn’t really care that much about watching them, content to fiddle with your phone until somebody told you to move. 
For a while you browsed some videos and looked through your social media when you got an alert. Siebren de Kuiper had posted an update on his profile. You tapped the notification and simultaneously had your heart drop into your feet and your stomach rise into your lungs when you saw something you never thought you would,
A picture of you, sitting alone in the stands wearing his name and number, boredly looking at your phone with the caption, 
“Not seen much nowadays, an eager fan. Lol. -Siebren.”
Your face was instantly set ablaze with embarrassment, too embarrassed to glance up and see the teams trading off field time, not sure how you’d react if you actually saw him looking in your direction. God, you wanted to die, but at the same time you felt like shouting out loud and dancing. You didn’t know what to do, you’ve never been noticed by a celebrity before. Should you leave a comment? Reshare it? Screencap it, print it, and hang it on your wall? Well, maybe not that, but what! Oh god this was so cool and crazy and oh god, you looked so weird in this pic! Was that what it looked when you sat down? Such poor posture! Ugh and you looked so tired! Would it be weird to try and doll yourself up or-
You shake your head and pinched the bridge of your nose, you were overthinking this. What would a normal person do in this situation? You typed out a quick comment. “Haha, that be me!” No, no too childish. “Wtf, that’s me!!!” Too surprised. Hmmm...
“Lol that’s me!”
Normal and friendly. Exactly how it should be. You were proud of yourself as you submitted the comment, marveling at it under his picture. You were nervous at him seeing it as you scrolled through his feed a little, mostly selfies of him with his team, over filtered pictures of his home life, and reshared posts about space facts and dumb baseball puns. It was honestly kind of adorable and underappreciated, if the low amount of likes meant anything, the man was as wholesome as they came and no one seemed to appreciate it!
A new notification popped up as you scrolled, a reply to your comment!
You tapped it and felt your heart flutter, Siebren de Kuiper had liked and replied!
“Thank You for your eager support then! :) - Siebren.”
A wide smile crossed your face at that, god that was adorable! You typed out a reply without thinking,
“Always a pleasure! <3” 
You giggled when you hit confirm, insides all warm. This was so cool. Like, literally, this was the coolest thing ever. You glanced up to the field, face burning when you noticed that he sat not too far away from you, sitting in the dugout a little diagonally from you, tapping away on a smartpad. Most likely browsing his own stuff. That was cool. He was cool. And handsome. And nice. And funny. And smart. And- okay your brain was going haywire. 
You needed to take a walk before you began to hyperventilate. You stood up and walked back into the entrance hall where miscellaneous vendors had set up, mostly baseball paraphernalia for the visitor’s team since the home team had it’s own gift shop in the building. You browsed a bit to distract yourself from the excitement. 
You were looking at a new version of the shirt you were already wearing when your phone buzzed with a notification.
“New direct message.”
That was odd, you never got dmed. You quickly opened it to find that you got a message from a random, empty account you weren’t following named Sigma14, weird name.
Where did you go?
You always forgot to lock dms to private, shrugging, you typed out a quick reply.
Sorry, Wrong person!
You were flipping through your settings to find the right configuration when a new reply came through.
Oh, I’m sorry!
I forgot this was my personal account!
It’s me, Siebren!
Your heart stopped and heat filled your body again, but your rational mind was rightfully unconvinced.
Yeah, sure you are.
Just send me the virus link
lol
You typed out, but waited for a reply this time, not knowing if you’d prefer to be let down with this being some weird scammer or actually get a real reply. Both seemed equally upsetting but for different reasons and on different ends of the spectrum. 
Here’s Proof!
He sent a few pictures. The first was of him, smiling into the camera with a thumbs up while sitting in a dugout, his face sweaty and his greying hair a little mused, then the next was a picture of the field you were just in, the name of the stadium clearly seen, and the last was a picture of the seat you were sitting in with a red question mark and arrow pointing to it. 
See!
He added after. You hugged your phone and squealed quietly, suddenly bursting with energy. Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy shit. It was really him!!!
akdjfldjsaf!
it’s really you!!!
I’m a huge fan!!
You typed out excitedly. 
Haha
I noticed!
Thank you for supporting me!
:)
So where did you run off to?
You took a photo of the shirt table you were standing at, glad that it was still pretty empty so no one seemed to mind you loitering around the table. You framed two different shirts with his name and number on it in two different colors, home and away.
Just buying some merch.
I need a new shirt
Lol
Which one do you think I should get?
You smiled when the texting bubble instantly popped up, feeling bubbly at the knowledge he was paying attention to you and not practicing.
Firstly, You have excellent taste!
And secondly, I don’t know…
I think I’d have to see it on you!
That last message almost killed you as you stood with your mouth open, if you’d been an omnic you were sure you’d have overheated and combusted. What the heck! What the Heck! Was he? No. Was he? No, surely not! He couldn’t have. That was… that was.. Did he just ask for a pic? You were blushing hard and silently staring at the words on screen before the typing bubble came up again.
Goodness!
I’m sorry for that last sentence!
I didn’t realize how that sounded!
I hope I did not upset you!
You let out a breath reading his reply, nerves calming. Of course he didn’t! Why would world famous baseball star Siebren de Kuiper want to get a pic of you in his jerseys? You were sure he could have actual models if he wanted. He didn’t need you! Oof, that was harsh, but true.
asfadaafsd haha
it’s alright!!!!!
I didn’t think anything of it
I think I’m just going to buy both, they’re both nice
You quickly replied, not wanting him to think you were upset at him. And you weren’t. Surprised, yes. But not angry. You mean, you’d totally send pics to him if he wanted, but you were sure he’d never want that. Right? 
They are!
And I’m sure both will look great on you!
:)
Your hands flexed on your phone as you gripped it a little tighter, looking at the two still unpurchased shirts. You picked up the shirts up, buying them and went to the nearest bathroom. You take off your shirt and replace it with the away shirt, leaving it a little unbuttoned, and snapped a mirror selfie, and looked at it on your phone. Cute despite the bathroom behind you. You did the same with the home shirt. 
You sat on the toilet holding your phone tightly as you debated actually sending them. They weren’t very explicit but still, the implication would be carried if he really meant anything the first time around. If he meant anything. Which he probably didn’t. So these photos wouldn’t be too bad to send… right?
You bit your lip and hit send. Waiting anxiously for a reply. Your heart was racing as you waited, feeling your blood pressure rise when the typing bubbles popped up.
:) :) :)
I was right.
They do look good on you!
You erupted in a fit of giggles, nerves a little on fire, god this was the craziest thing you’ve ever done. He wasn’t finished as more texts came in,
Would you like to get them signed?
:)
Holy fuck. Was he flirting with you? He had to be, right? Well shit, you couldn’t pass this opportunity up! You quickly typed out a reply, fingers shaking a little.
Would you?!?
Omg that would be amazing!
His reply came in instantly,
Come by entrance five in ten minutes.
I’ll gladly sign you.
:)
You actually yelled laughed, face burning like a stove, and pumped your fist in the air. Yes. Yes. Yes. You left the bathroom insanely giddy, wearing the white home shirt, and went to look at a map of the stadium. Entrance five was the farthest from the main entrances, and from what it looked like on your phone, a part of the stadium that was going to be completely empty. You chewed your lip as you made your way over there, nerves on fire. God you hoped this was going the way you wanted it and you hadn’t just misinterpreted everything.
About twelve minutes later as you sat in the empty hallway flipping through your phone and trying to distract yourself from your racing thoughts, he walked in through the stadium side. You got up instantly as his large shadow stretched across the floor. God, he was tall. Seven feet if you remembered correctly, two feet taller than you, and broad, insanely broad, arms like pythons. He looked a bit sweaty in his baseball uniform, an outfit that hid very little on his hulking frame, and smiled at you apologetically.
“I didn’t mean to keep you waiting.” He said coolly as he walked inside.
 He stepped up toward you gently, a kind smile as he held out a hand. You grasped his hand with both of yours, his hands were large, insanely, fuck, he was so much bigger than you, your mouth watered a little. 
“It’s no problem, I was happy to wait!” You said nervously and a little quickly, “I’m Y/N.”
“Y/N.” He repeated in his slightly accented voice, warm and absolutely lovely, sounding a lot different than what you were used to from watching interviews. “A lovely name.”
You laughed nervously and looked off, embarrassed, “T-thank you.” you stutter out as you dropped your hands to hide in your pockets.
“So, make this out to Y/N then?” He asked, pulling a pen out of his pocket and looking at you softly. God, your heart was a puddle.
“Uhh, yeah, I guess.” You said and he hummed in agreement.
You were going to hold out a piece of your shirt out for him to sign, but instead he stepped a little closely and bent down, putting the tip down just under your shoulder. You didn’t miss the glimmer in his eye as he bent in close, holding you still a little with his big hands, and wrote delicately on your skin. You held your breath, biting your lip as the hulking mass of him was so close to you, making your head swim.
“To my loyal fan Y/N,” He said as he wrote, his tone having gone down a notch, making your skin erupt in goosebumps, “Siebren.” He signed, eyes locking with yours as he stood back up.
You laughed breathlessly, leaning on the wall behind you for support as he didn’t move back much, looming over you a bit. 
“T-thank you, I, uh… thanks.” You said, biting your lip a little and fluttering your eyes.
He smirked as he leaned on the wall above you, caging you a little, though leaving enough room that if you really wanted to leave you could. He was giving you a chance to stop, maybe saving face if he also misinterpreted, this was all up to you.
You chewed your lip as he looked down at you expectantly. Your hands shook a little as they rose and gently rested against the rough fabric of his uniform over his chest. He continued watching you, eyes darkening as you hands wandered over his abdomen, feeling him up a little. He was so firm and a lot more ripped than you had thought. This man was a damn brick house.
You hesitated a little as you got lower, looking up at him for permission as your fingers got to his waistband. He smiled, his hand not propping himself against the wall raising to grasp your smaller ones and gently pushing you lower himself, right over his half hard on.
He huffed hotly as you made contact with him through his pants and you couldn’t help the little whine that escaped your throat. You felt him up, mouth watering a bit at the feel of the size of him, only half hard it was already bigger than the length of your hand. You groped and stroked him through his pants, pulling a few groans from him for the effort, but as he got harder he stopped you.
“Enough of that.” He said a little strained, voice heavy with lust as he patted your greedy hands away.
He stood up a little, no longer leaning over you for a moment as both hands went to undo his belt as your hands rested on his large thighs, you mind momentarily filled with the image of you straddling these thick slabs of meat. When he finally pulled himself from his pants, just as long and thick as you always imagined.You licked your lips and looked up at him, his face red, sweaty and eyes looking at you hungrily, it made you shiver in excitement. Fuck, you wanted him to come undone.
Without any prompting you bent down and kissed his cockhead as you slid onto your knees, earning a breathless word in dutch. You didn’t know what it was, but it sounded endearing and it stroked something inside you. He had to bend his knees a little and haunch over you, leaning his head against the wall, the height difference a little difficult while standing, but it made it all the more hotter in your opinion.
You lavished his hard cock with wet kisses and gentle stroking, going off the amazing noises he was making to get a feel for what he liked as you licked him sloppily. His dick was so hard and hot and beautiful His tasted a bit salty but he smelled really good, like grass and dirt and... chalk? It was a strangely arousing combination.
You smiled up at him as he stared at you, eyes half lidded and face red, looking a little angry and a little delirious. So handsome. Like a wet dream. You trailed a line of kisses from the underside of his base up to his tip, eyes locked with his as your lips got closer to his head, and when you did, you opened your mouth and laid his head on your tongue.
He moaned loudly, his hips canting and slipping through your hold into your mouth a little, dragging another moan out of him as you enveloped his head with your soft mouth. A hand dropped from the wall above you as it weaved itself into your hair. Your tongue swirled around his head, humming with please as he choked a little at the feel and gripped your hair a little harder.
He began to circle his hips a little, his cock slowly leaving and entering your wet mouth, getting a little deeper as he went. You just took it, drooling and moaning as he got deeper and deeper and pulled out less and less. As you got most of him in he stilled to a halt, breathing hard as you swallowed around him, looking at him with eyes full of hot tears with the stretch. Fuck, the feeling of him so deep was glorious, but he hadn’t hilted, and despite the fact he looked about to bust and you were not that sure if you could, you began bobbing your head a little to get farther.
His strangled moans where music to your ears as he didn’t stop your endeavor, burying his head in the crook of his arm against the wall as his other hand still had a tight grip in your hair. Your throat was getting raw as you mouthfucked him and you knew that you were probably depriving yourself with sufficient oxygen, but you didn’t care, the desire to please him much too large. 
Finally your nose met the pubes on his groin and he held you still against him, every muscle on his body pulled taut. He was mumbling something, but it didn’t sound like English, or dutch for that matter, just pure breathless gibberish as you felt him pulse in your mouth. You focused on breathing and relaxing around him, brain too scrambled to do much else.
Everything felt so good, your nerves were so sensitive and every little sensation made you shiver in desire.  The feeling of your shirt against your chest, of your pants against you groin, of his fingers in your hair, of the feeling of his thighs under your hands, it all felt so good. Fuck, having him in your throat was turning you on so much it felt like you were going to cum from this alone.
Slowly he began to rut into your mouth, using your mouth as his own little fleshlight. Fuck, it was so hot. H was breathing so hard, his thighs twitching under your hands. He was saying something now, dark and needy, spoken like demands or praises but you couldn’t understand him, couldn’t hear anything over the sound of the squelch inside your head of him fucking into your throat.
Your eyes lulled and you just moaned around him, feeling the drool spill onto the front of your shirt as he fucked you to delirium, choking you repeatedly on his cock. Suddenly he held you tight to his base and said the first words to break through the haze of lust since you started, 
“Swallow.” He said through grit teeth, like you had any other choice.
The feeling of him twitching in your mouth and spilling his hot cum in the back of your throat triggered your own orgasm, and without any direct stimulation your body was wracked with a full body shiver. Your body flinched against his hold as you felt the thick liquid get forced down, but he held you steady, and before he was finished, he pulled out quickly to squirt the last of himself on your slightly swollen lips and drool covered chin.
You would have been angry if you weren’t so out of it. He hummed with please as you stared up at him through the tears in your eyes, tilting your face up to him so he could see the copious amount of cum on your tongue.
“Swallow.” He said softer than before, out of breath.
You obediently closed your mouth and swallowed, opening it again to show him and he smiled widely, petting your head. 
“Goed, goed.” He purred and it made you bristle in happiness in your post orgasm state.
You stayed like that for a while, him petting you and whispering kind words as your mind slowly booted up again. As he got himself presentable again and you cleaned yourself, he helped you back onto your feet and you checked the time on your phone. 2:15? Geez, time really flew by.
You were about to alert him of this when his hand met your lower back as he lead you back toward the entrance hall, “Yes, I know.” He said with a wink.
You were confused until you actually got out and saw through the large glass windows of the entrance the sheets of rain pouring over everything. There was an alert on your phone from the ticket holder, 
Delayed Game.
You looked up at him and he smiled smugly, “It seems I have a bit more time before the game.” He said with fake surprise.
“Do you have anything else you’d like to get signed?” He asked, hand still on your lower back as he lead you into the more private area of the stadium.
The fire of desire was lit again and you smiled up at him, “I still have two more shirts.” you say innocently.
He hummed and you felt his thumb rub lightly over your lower spine, 
“Well, then, let’s find a pen.”
158 notes · View notes
apriorisea · 5 years
Note
Hi! Could you write something for the boys discovering that their shy s/o keeps photos of them on their phones with silly captions like "love of my life", "prince charming", "best boyfriend". Well things like that xD
–Hi! Thanks so much for this request—such a cute idea! sorry it’s taken me so long, but here are my takes on this scenario. Hope you enjoy!💕💜
You x BTS“Secretly Mushy”
JIN
“Are you sure you don’t want anything, babe?”    Jin stretches out across the couch, taking your spot. “No, I’m okay. Thanks.” He flips to the next photo in your camera roll and grins. It’s you, standing next to a giant statue of a wooden fish, stretching up on your tiptoes with a kissy-face. He selects the photo and airdrops it to his own phone. “How long until our next vacation, princess?” he says, rolling onto his back and scrolling through more of the photos.    You laugh but don’t turn away from the fridge. “We just got back.”    He sighs dramatically and swipes through a few pictures quickly. Just as he’s opening his mouth to whine more, he comes across an unfamiliar picture and freezes. It’s him at the dinner table, a bowl of ramen in front of him, smiling goofily for you, but what actually caught his eye was the caption you had written across the bottom: “my prince charming.” He twists his head around quickly to look at you; you’re still invested in snack-hunting, so he turns his attention back to the screen. The smile continues to grow as he swipes through more pictures of him, the mushy captions ranging from the ridiculous “my perfect giant goofball” to the more serious “my everything.” When he gets to the end of the series, he puts the phone down and grins to himself, over-the-moon happy at his accidental discovery. Twisting around one more time, he makes sure your back is still turned before opening your camera and switching it to front-camera mode. He takes a bunch of selfies—smiling, kissy-faces, sexy faces, goofy faces—and saves each one to your secret collection album.    Finally finishing your snack creation, you open the fridge and ask, “Do you want water?”    He quickly closes out the app, sits up, and sets the phone down in your spot. “Yes, please!” He can’t stop smiling.    When you come back to the couch, you hand him the water bottle and sink down next to him, balancing your snack (nachos) on your knee. Looking over at him, you instinctively mirror his smile. “What?”    “Thank you for the water,” he says sweetly, leaning over and kissing your cheek.    You pull your feet up underneath you. “You’re welcome.” Looking around, you add, “Where’s my phone? Did those pictures in front of the pier come out good?”    “Yes.” He puts his hand on your knee, squeezing it gently. “You look beautiful, like usual.”    Rolling your eyes, you pop a chip in your mouth and unlock your phone, opening your photos. You look through the first few photos with a fond smile and lean your head over onto his shoulder. “This was a good vacation, wasn’t it?” you say around a mouthful of nacho. He nods and presses a quick kiss to the side of your head. “We definitely should go again.” You continue looking through the photos. “Hey…” You had come to his first added-selfie, a smiley one. You laugh. “You giant goof. Trying to show off how handsome you are?” You kiss his shoulder. “We both know that’s true,” you murmur against him, then turn your attention back to the phone. Another selfie, another laugh. “How many did you take?”    He’s grinning so big and trying not to laugh. “Oh a few,” he says, as you keep going, scrolling through them faster. Just before you reach your own collection, he adds, “I’m sorry I haven’t had time to add captions yet…”    Your mouth drops open, accidentally letting a few chip crumbs tumble to your shirt, and you spin to look at him. “Wha—”    He bursts out laughing, clapping his hands together like a giddy seal. “I love you so much,” he gets out between bursts of laughter.    “I….” You try to swallow and start coughing, unable to defend yourself.    Still grinning, he stops laughing to pat your back and hand you your water. “You okay, princess?”    You shake your head and guzzle some water. “Oh sure, I’m fine,” you say, clearing your throat a few times. “Just dying of embarrassment.”    He brushes his hand across your face. “Don’t be embarrassed,” he says persuasively, pulling you close to him. “You’re the cutest thing on the planet.” He leans over and kisses you gently. “I was just trying to match you.”    You groan and duck your head against him.    “I love you,” he murmurs, then peppers your forehead with kisses. “You’re the best, most beautiful girlfriend in the entire world. I’m just sorry I don’t have an entire photo collection to back me up.”    “Oh zip it,” you say, stuffing a nacho in his mouth. Sitting up, you decide to turn the joke back on him: you thumb through his selfies again, pretending to study them carefully. “Hm…some of these are pretty good, actually.”    He chews quickly and swallows. “Only some?? Here,” he says, reaching for the phone. “Let me add some more.”    
YOONGI
You grin at Yoongi as you sneak another drink of his soda. He makes a face, but doesn’t stop you—just like he hadn’t stopped you the last 3 times. Setting it back down next to his plate, you bump your leg against his and stretch your hand across the table. He immediately slips his hand into yours, squeezing it once. “How were your noodles?”    He shrugs. “Not bad.” A smile flickers across his lips as he asks, “What about your burger?”    “I will never be ashamed of ordering a burger,” you defend, grabbing another fry with your free hand. “It was great.”    He smiles completely at this, but you notice his gaze shift. “Oops,” he says, exhaling a little laugh. When you give him a questioning look, he taps his collarbone. “Ketchup spill.”   You look down at the corresponding spot on your sweatshirt and groan. “Oh shoot.” Dropping his hand, you grab your napkin and try to dab the sauce away. “This is going to stain. Here,” you pull your phone from your pocket and pass it across the table to him. “Will you hold this for me while I go fix this?”   He takes your phone from you, still grinning.   You try to shoot him a dirty look, but his smile is too adorable, so you end up just rolling your eyes. “Still no regret about the burger,” you say airily, leaning down to kiss his cheek.    “Not even a little bit?” he teases, grabbing your arm and holding you still so he can kiss you properly.    You kiss him back, ignoring the stain on your shirt until a waitress bumps into you on her way past. You almost fall into his lap and he catches you, his face immediately concerned. “I’m fine,” you reassure him, planting a kiss between his eyebrows. “I’ll be right back.”    He watches you leave, a fond smile on his face. He waits patiently for a few minutes, then a few more. Finally, getting a little bored, he unlocks your phone and opens up the photo app, scrolling through your collections to find his favorite selfie of the two of you together. He pauses to look at one picture a little closer: it’s not the one he’s looking for, but it still brings a giant smile to his face. Quickly glancing in the direction of the restroom, he scrolls through a few more, unable to keep from grinning at what he sees. A phone call interrupts his gleeful exploring and he answers dutifully, knowing you’ll be back soon.    The ketchup proves more difficult than you had thought, so it’s 13 minutes before you get back to the table; the waiter has brought the check and Yoongi is sitting back in his seat, signing the receipt. You slip into the booth and sigh dramatically.    “Hi sweetheart,” he says absently, clipping the receipt back to the bill-book. “Did you get the stain out?”    “Pretty much,” you pout, looking down at your shirt again. “It was tougher than I thought.” You look up to find him smiling at you again.    He nudges your foot with his own. “It looks fine. Are you ready to go?” He smirks as you reach for one more fry. “You really want to test fate?”   “It’s like lightning,” you shrug. “It never strikes the same place twice.” To prove your point, you pop the fry in your mouth and show off your still relatively-clean shirt.    He laughs. “Okay, okay: you win.” Stretching his hand across the table, he hands you back your phone. “Your mom called. It’s your grandma’s birthday tomorrow, she wanted to remind you.”    “Oh yeah. Glad she reminded me, I definitely forgot.” You take your phone from him and get back to your feet. He joins you, wrapping an arm around you and you turn to kiss his cheek again. “Thanks for lunch, babe.”    He squeezes your waist and gently guides you towards the exit. “I think if we go right now, we can probably get a gift in the mail to your grandma before it goes out tonight.”    “I have it already,” you say as he helps you into the car. “It’s in the apartment. …Somewhere.”    He just grins at you and shuts the door.    The rest of the day passes by in a whirlwind: among other errands, the two of you do manage to get your grandma’s present in the mail and, as a reward for your quick work, you buy ice cream for both of you before you head home. He holds your hand all the way up the stairs, and pecks your cheek quickly before you go inside. “Thanks for a great day, love,” he says, meeting your eyes with a smile.    You smile back and help him take off his jacket, hanging it for him in the closet. “Do you think my grandma will like that gift?”    “Mmmhmm.” He’s busy locking the door behind him, reorganizing the messy pile of shoes, turning out the kitchen light. When he’s done, he joins you in the hallway and gives you a playful nudge towards your room. “She’s going to love it. C’mon, sweetheart, I’m tired. I have to get up early again tomorrow.”   You make a mock-pouty face at him, and he grabs your waist, tickling you until you squirm out of his hold, laughing, and race down to the room. “I call washing my face first!” you say triumphantly, and he just smiles tolerantly.    42 minutes later, the two of you are finally in bed. He turns his lamp off first, stretching his arms above his head and yawning wide.    “All right, all right, all right,” you pretend to grumble, setting your glasses on the sidetable and turning out your light. In the sudden darkness, you snuggle under the covers, smiling when he reaches out and pulls you into his arms. You press a kiss to his collarbone and then cuddle against him, your eyes drifting shut as you feel your pulse settle in his safe embrace.    He kisses your forehead and then murmurs, “You are the sweetest thing in the whole world, you know.”    “Oh yeah?” you ask, eyes still shut; you can feel sleep creeping in on you.    He brushes his lips across your skin. “Yes.”   “Why is that?”    “I found those photos,” he admits, pulling you a little closer to him.    “Photos?” you repeat. “What—” your eyes snap open as you remember exactly which photos he’s talking about. “Oh my gosh.”    He laughs softly, like he can’t help it, but when you bury your face against him in embarrassment, he says, “I love it. You are so cute.”    “You weren’t supposed to find those,” you groan, shaking your head against him.    “I know. I didn’t mean to, but I’m so glad I did.” He hugs you to him. “You are my everything, sweet girl, and I love you more than anything else in the whole-wide world.”    You cringe as you realize he’s directly quoting one of your captioned photos of him.    Sensing this, he laughs again, not unkindly, and kisses the top of your head a few times. “It’s the truth,” he insists, running his fingers lightly up and down your back. “I really am glad I found them.” He waits a beat, then adds, “Because now I have leverage.”    You thump his arm. “Yooongiiiii, come on, it’s so embarrassing, I—”     “No, it’s not,” he insists, and pulls back a little so he can look down at you. Calling your name softly, he waits until you look back at him. “I love you.”    The words slip out on their own, automatically, like a reflex. “I love you, too.”    “I promise I won’t tease you about them again,” he says, and you can hear how sleepy he’s getting in the way his words have gotten slower.    “You better not,” you threaten, but already most of the heat in your face has evaporated, chased away by his presence and encouraging words. Sighing, you rest your head against his chest again. “And don’t mention a word of this to any of the others!”    He sounds genuinely affronted. “Of course not. I’m very selfish, remember—I’m keeping all of that for myself.” He kisses you again. “I’m keeping all of you for myself.”    Warmed by his words, you snuggle against him and there’s a brief silence.    It’s broken by him: “….Are you going to make more of them?” he asks hopefully.
HOSEOK
“Here,” Hoseok reaches for your phone. “Stand there, this skyline is gorgeous, you’re gorgeous, it’s perfect.”    You grin and go stand where he directs. “Right here?” When he nods, you pretend to pose pretty, but at the last second make a funny face.    He explodes with laughter. “Perfect,” he says again, still giggling. When you relax at the sound, your face slips into a natural smile, and he lifts the phone again, snapping a few more candid pictures.    You don’t notice, turning instead to scan the view: it was day 5 of your week-long vacation, and you were already dreading going back to reality. Spending days—plural, a blessing you never stopped counting—with him, 24/7, exploring and eating and laughing and just being together was definitely your sort of paradise. You start to turn, to look back at him and call him over, but he calls your name.    “Wait just a second, don’t move!” He’s holding up your phone again, moving around a little to get the perfect angle.    You roll your eyes. “Hobi, c’mon, I—”    “Pleeeaase.”    You sigh heavily, but don’t move, staying in your same, now slightly-awkward, position until you hear him say, “Perfect.” Shaking your head a little, you turn to look back out across the skyline; the sun was setting and from here you could see every glittering building in the city, trace them as they connected to the gleaming ocean. The soft breeze lifts your hair away from your face and you close your eyes. Why can’t this last forever? “Hey, babe,” you say, not opening your eyes or turning around. “Come here.” When he doesn’t join you, you turn your head towards him. “Babe?”    “Angel…..” he says slowly, his tone unreadable. “Hey, angel, what are these?”    “What?” you ask, but he doesn’t answer, so you turn all the way around, only to find the biggest smile on his face. “….what are you looking at?”    He holds your phone up, flashing the screen quickly towards you before turning it back to look again. In that split second, your stomach drops. He’s scrolling through more pictures, his smile getting bigger and bigger.    You understand immediately: he must have flipped through too far, past the pictures he had just taken, and stumbled across your secret collection. Your face burns as you think of the photos, all pictures of him, all with stylized text exclaiming things like “my only sunshine,” “the love of my life,” “cutie-pie,” “my angel babe”, etc etc etc. “Wait!” you almost shriek, racing towards him.    Laughing, he sees you coming and intercepts you easily, holding the phone above his head. “Am I really the best thing that’s ever happened to you?” he grins, quoting one of your captions.    “Hobi,” you try to scold, your face still on fire. “Give it back!” You reach for the phone but he lifts it a little higher.    “How long have you had these?” he asks, craning his neck up to keep looking through the pictures.     “Hoseok,” you whine, grabbing for his elbow. “Please.”     He grins and wraps an arm around you, pulling you tight against him to keep you in place. Calling your name in a calm voice, he waits until you meet his eyes before squeezing your waist and saying, “Sweetie, I love these. I’ll always be your prince charming.” There’s nothing but sincerity in his voice, and that helps cool your cheeks a little.     Groaning, you tip your head forward to rest on his chest. “Baby, please, can we just…can we not talk about it?” You feel him press a kiss to the top of your head, and shake your head against him. “Give me my phone.”    “Mmm….” he pretends to think. “I can probably bring it a little closer—for the price of one kiss.” He grins at you when you look up, and starts rubbing gentle circles against the small of your back.    You know he’s trying to persuade you out of your embarrassment, so you make yourself take a small breath and mumble, “It’s so ridiculous.”    He kisses your head again. “No, angel, I swear—it’s probably the highlight of my day.” He squeezes you again. “And that’s saying something, considering I’ve been able to spend every second of every hour with you the last few days.”    “You’re just saying that to make me feel better,” you say, but you take another deep breath and lift your head a little.    He meets your eyes and shakes his head.    You study him for a second and can’t help but smile at his expression. Feeling the last little bit of self-consciousness fade, you lift your hands and place them firmly on either side of his face. Meeting his gaze, you reach up and kiss him. “There,” you say softly, feeling your smile grow bigger when you see that he still has his eyes closed. “Now give me my phone, you punk.”    He grumbles and opens his eyes a tiny bit. “I think…I think it’ll cost 2 more kisses, angel.”
NAMJOON
Namjoon leans back in his chair, tipping his head back in a picture of pure exhaustion.    You look up from your phone and smile at him from where you sit on the couch. “You okay, baby?”    He nods, but doesn’t open his eyes.    “Time for a break,” you say softly.    His mouth opens wide in a yawn. “I still have a verse to finish.” His words are slow, his voice deep and rough from his weariness. “If I take a break now, I won’t get back to it.”    “But if you don’t take break, you’re going to be down for the count in the long run…”    He sighs heavily, then sits up and shakes himself a little. “5 more minutes,” he decides. “Let me see what I can get done in 5 more minutes.”    You don’t argue because you know it’s pointless, but you do glance at your watch: he had exactly 5 minutes. Grabbing your phone, you open your photo app again and continue with your work; the studio settles into a relatively peaceful quiet. 4 minutes and 23 seconds in, you’re startled by Jimin’s picture popping up on your screen with a phone call. You answer: “Hey. What’s up?”    “Are you in the building?” He’s speaking in a soft voice, like he’s afraid of someone overhearing him.    “Yeah. I’m with Joon in his studio.”    “Perfect—can you come meet us downstairs? We’ve got Hobi-hyung’s cake and we need some help.”    You smile. “Sure! Who’s we?”    “Me, Jungkookie, and Yoongi-hyung.”    “Yoongi is with you? How did you manage that?” You raise an eyebrow, grinning at Namjoon when he turns in his seat to look at you.    Jimin’s laugh rustles across the line. “He heard that and he’s mildly offended.”    “Oops,” you hop to your feet. “All right, I’m on my way down.”    “Great. Hey, you’re near Namjoon-hyung? We’ve got a few questions for him.”    You cross to where he’s still sitting and brush your hand through his hair. “Sure thing. Let me pass the phone to him.” You pull the phone away from your ear, but before you hand it over, you lean down and plant a soft kiss on his lips. “Jimin wants to talk to you,” you whisper. “I’m going to go meet them.”    He reaches up and takes your face in his hands. “Okay,” he agrees, then brings you close to him for another kiss. “Hurry back.”    “Soon as I get back, it’s break-time,” you agree, then press the phone into his hands and leave with a final smile.    10 minutes later, you go back to get him after helping the others set up Hoseok’s surprise party. He’s still sitting at his desk, but when you open the door, he sits up suddenly and turns to face you. “You ready?”    He nods, but still looks flustered.    You give him a look. “Everything okay?”    “Yeah.” He flashes you a quick smile as he gets to his feet, grabbing something off his desk. He crosses to where you stand in the doorway and wraps his arms around your waist, holding you tight against him in an unusual greeting. He kisses your cheek and you smile at the touch, confused at his sudden cuddly state, but don’t question it. He finally releases you. “Are they in the practice room?”    You nod, still glowing a little from his surprise affection. “Oh, hey: do you still have my phone?”    “Yup.” He pats his jacket pocket, then laces his fingers through yours and tugs you out into the hallway. “Are the staff bringing Hobi in?”    You lean closer to him and rest your head on his shoulder as the two of you walk. “I think so.” You smile as you feel him kiss the side of your head. “The cake looks great, I think he’s really gonna like it.” The two of you stop just outside of the practice room. He reluctantly drops your hand to reach for the door, but stops halfway to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear. When you look up at him, he gives a little half-smile and holds your gaze.    “You’re so beautiful,” he says, his smile growing wider when you blush at the unexpected compliment. He brushes another kiss against your cheek and then pulls open the door.    All throughout Hoseok’s surprise party, Namjoon is clingy—it’s the only way you can describe it. He laughs and jokes with the others, but any chance he gets, he links his pinky with yours, wraps an arm around your shoulders, puts a hand on the small of your back. The touchy-feely behavior continues all the way home: he holds you close to him as you walk, follows you around while you get ready for bed, pulls you against his side and plays with your fingers while you talk before falling asleep. He never mentions the cause of his sudden attachment, and you don’t complain.    The next morning, you feel his lips on your neck when he wakes up early to go to work, but he’s gone before you can wake up enough to say goodbye. Though you spend the rest of the day apart, he sends you almost hourly texts with cute emojis; when he gets home that night, he’s still the same snuggly-koala he had been the whole day before.    The next evening, you finally discover why. While looking through his phone for a screenshot of an online order, you happen to notice a recently-saved image—of him. Your disbelief increases as you realize that it’s your photo of him, with your added caption “love of my life.” You quickly scroll to the next one and realize it’s another of your creation (”cutest boy in the whole world”). How did he get these?? Out of curiosity, you go to his texts, open your conversation, and scroll up until you see them, all in a neat line, timestamped from the other day when you had gone to help the boys with Hoseok’s party. You go back to the photos, trying to gauge if you’re more upset or mortified.    Getting up, you march back down the hall to where he’s sitting at the kitchen table, picking over his dinner while reading. He looks up when you come in, his face breaking into an automatic smile. “Hi baby,” he says, reaching out for your hand.    You hold up his phone instead. “Did you send these to yourself??” It’s a stupid question, but all of the questions you’d come up with were stupid.    He laughs. “Well, yeah.”    “I–” you splutter, your eyes growing wide. “Why were you…how did you even see them?? You weren’t—”    Realizing that you’re upset, he turns in his chair to face you completely. “The other day,” he explains, “When I was on the phone with Jimin, he said he had sent you a picture of Hoseok’s birthday cake earlier, so I went to find it. And then I came across these…” He works his phone out of your fingers, unable to keep the smile off his face as he looks at them.    “And you just sent them to yourself??”    “Love, of course I did!” he answers. When you stand there, dumbfounded by his response, he exhales a soft laugh and gets to his feet, pulling you towards him. “It’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen.” He locks his arms tight around your waist. “I just love you so much.” He leans in to kiss your cheek, then says against your skin, “…Are you mad at me?”    You sigh. This was why he had been so snuggly lately; it wasn’t really a bad thing. “Not mad,” you answer, winding your arms around his neck. “Just embarrassed.”    He kisses you. “Don’t be embarrassed. It really turned my whole day around.” He brings one hand up to gently cup the side of your face: “Having you turned my whole life around. These pictures are a good reminder of why I’m so lucky.” He meets your eyes with another happy smile. “Thank you.”  
JIMIN
You tap your hands against the steering wheel irritably, which causes your sister to laugh. “Dude, beating up the car isn’t going to make the traffic go any faster,” she grins.    “It’s taking foreverrrrrrrrr,” you whine, slamming your palm against the wheel one more time. “Why are they so slow??”    “Hey, it’s not their fault you left your phone.”     You sigh. “I know.”    “It’s gonna be fine,” she says, scrunching down in the seat. “Thanks to your freakish need to be extra early, we could sit in this traffic for another hour and still not be late.”    You slap her leg. “Yeah, you’re welcome, brat.” Turning down the music a little, you scan the traffic ahead of you and sigh again. “What this really means is that I’ll have to drop you off, go back and get my phone, and then you’ll have to come to the store with me.” She grumbles, but you just roll your eyes. “You’ll be fine. Can I borrow your phone?”    “Sure.” She hands it over. “Hoping your phone’s gained enough sentience to answer you back?”    “Ha ha ha,” you say sarcastically, dialing your number. “No. It should be with Jimin still…I’m hoping…” It rings twice before he answers. “Hey.”    You can hear his smile as he answers. “Hi babygirl—did you forget something?”    You ignore your sister’s smug face. “Yeah. I’m gonna drop this punk off and then I’ll come back and get it.”    “Can’t wait.”    The silly butterflies fill your stomach at his words, but you just say, “Thank you. See you soon!” You end the call and hand the phone back over to your sister as the traffic finally starts moving forward.    She takes it back and changes the song. “I think you left it there on purpose…”    “I think I’m going to leave you by that bus stop on purpose.”    Twenty-five minutes later, you’ve dropped her off and made great time back to the company. You make your way through the building with a smile—getting sidetracked for only a second when Jin wants to show you his ideas for the upcoming album cover—and eventually pull the door to the small dance studio open. He’s sitting in the middle of the floor, stretching out; you can see your phone sitting next to him.    “Well that doesn’t look like practice to me,” you say with a grin, shutting the door softly behind you.    He looks over at you and jumps to his feet, his face unreadable. You notice him tuck your phone into his back pocket as he comes towards you.    “Hey,” your smile falters slightly. “Is everything okay?”    Without warning, he wraps his arms around you and buries his face in your neck. You stumble back at his sudden attack, but his hold on you is so tight that he holds you upright easily. He holds you even tighter, crushing you against him, but doesn’t say a word.    Your mind races as you try to figure out what could have possibly happened between your phone call 32 minutes ago and now. “Okay,” you say calmly, bringing your hands up to stroke his back. “It’s all right.” You awkwardly turn and kiss the side of his head. When he still doesn’t speak, you release a soft breath and hug him. You know that if you give him enough time, he’ll eventually tell you what’s going on, so you swallow down your questions and focus on comforting him.    After a long time, he takes a deep breath and then presses his lips against your neck. “I love you so much, babygirl,” he murmurs, then plants a few kisses along your jaw before straightening. He smiles down at you, arms still wrapped around you, although more loosely than before. There’s a little extra emotion in his eyes, but he doesn’t look upset.    You stare at him, confused by his actions. “I love you, too,” you answer automatically, wriggling out of his grasp so you can look at him better. “I don’t understand, what–?”    He squeezes your waist and leans down to kiss your neck a few more times.    “Jimin.”    Releasing you, he reaches into his back pocket and grabs your phone. “I wasn’t having a great day,” he begins, unlocking it easily. “But then I got your call, and I was looking through some of the pictures we took yesterday, and then….” He grins and turns the screen towards you.    It takes you a full 30 seconds to understand what he’s showing you. When it finally registers, you feel the blush creep up your neck. “That’s—” your voice falters as you stare at the picture. It’s a candid shot you got of him, his head tipped back in laughter, with curly script across the bottom reading “my handsome angel.”    “There’s a lot of them,” he says, turning the phone back to him and smiling even wider. “I didn’t even realize you took some of these….”    “You…you weren’t supposed to see those,” you say lamely. “They were just…I was just playing around with Snapchat.”    His expression falls just a bit as he looks at you. “So…you don’t mean these?”    “Of course I do!” His face lights up and you regret falling for his little manipulation immediately. Rolling your eyes, you put your hands on either side of his face. “I thought something was wrong!”     He turns his head to press his lips against your palm. “I love these,” he says, snaking his arms back around your waist. “You always give me strength to get through the bad days and somehow you always know what I need.” He kisses the corner of your mouth. “Like these.”    You take a deep breath, feeling some of your embarrassment fade at his sincerity, and look into his eyes until it’s gone completely. Sighing, you stroke his face gently with your thumbs and say, “I love you, Jimin. Clearly.”    “Not even half as much as I love you,” he laughs, pulling you even closer. He gives you a look. “Am I really your handsome angel?”
TAEHYUNG
“Okay, Tae, come on,” you laugh and put both hands on his chest, pushing him away. “I have to get up early tomorrow morning, babe.”   He kisses your neck a few more times, then sighs and sits up slowly. “Why don’t our schedules match up better?” he grumbles, lying back against the headboard.   You laugh and reach over to pat his cheek. “Remember, we’ve got a whole weekend together coming up.” You swing your legs out of the bed and toss him your phone as you get up, heading for the bathroom. “Hey, speaking of: I found a couple of really nice hotel options for our trip. I screen-shotted them, will you take a look?” You leave the bathroom door open as you reach for your toothbrush. “They’re all right next to the water.”    “Mm,” he hums, opening your phone and stretching out on the bed. “I’m sure they’re all great, honey.”    “The third one is super close to that restaurant you love, too.”    You can hear the smile in his voice this time: “You’re the best.” He sighs and shifts around a little. “I can’t wait for this trip,” he admits. “Just you and me and nothing to do for a whole weekend.”    “Yeah,” you agree, glancing over at him fondly. “It’s going to be great.” You put your toothbrush down and lean closer to the mirror. “We can still leave around 6 on Friday, right?” He doesn’t answer. “6pm, right?” you say again. When he still doesn’t answer, you frown. “Tae?” Leaning back, you peer into the room and see him absolutely giddy about something he’s seeing on your phone. “…what is it?”    He turns towards you, his face squished up with his happy grin. “My angel-face,” he quotes, flipping to a new picture. “Light of my life, prince charming, best boyfriend in the whole wide world…”    You stare at him. “What are you…what are you looking at?” you ask, even though you know. You feel your stomach twist up. “Taehyung…”    “These pictures,” he says delightedly. “Who knew you were such a softie??”    “Those—” You hurry out of the bathroom, launching yourself at him on the bed. “No, Tae, let me see it!”    He laughs and rolls out of your grasp. “I can’t believe you have these! How did you make them??” He giggles at another one of your captions. “Awww, so sweet, my lover!”    You snatch the phone from him, feeling the tips of your ears get hot. “It was just a-a joke. I was messing around with that new app, where you can put text on the pictures, you know—”    “Riiiiight,” he teases, still grinning.    “I’m just going to delete them,” you say huffily, re-opening the photo app. “And then we won’t have to talk about it ever again!!”    He sits up and reaches out to grab your wrists before you can move. Holding them gently, he ducks his head to look into your eyes. “Please don’t, honey,” he pleads.    “Why, so you can make fun of them some more?” You pull against his grip, still upset.    “No!” His eyes get wide. He releases your wrists and slides his hands up your arms. “I’m sorry,” he says contritely, “I was just so excited to see them, they honestly made me so happy!”    You shake your head, but don’t try to delete the photos. “Yeah right. It’s silly, isn’t it? You’re right to mock them…”    “No, no, no, I’m sorry, honey-love, I’m so sorry.” He looks really worried. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I just…” He takes one of his hands away and grabs his own phone. “Now it matches mine!” As you watch, he opens his own photo app and navigates to a secret collection of photos. Looking suddenly shy, he hands it over. “See?”    Giving him a look, you take the phone and start flipping through the pictures. The more you see, the quieter you get, feeling your embarrassment fade, only to be replaced by a warmth spreading all over you.    There are over 100 pictures of you: you laughing, you smiling, you seriously reading a book, you scrolling through social media, driving, walking along the river…..there’s even photos of you brushing your teeth, styling your hair, eating a bowl of cereal. Most of them you can’t remember him taking, and even though you don’t love the way you look in all of them, the fact that he had taken them just to have made everything else melt away. “Tae…” you say softly, looking over at him.    “I love you,”  he says simply. “Please don’t delete your pictures, I really like them.” He’s looking nervous.    Exhaling, you set your phone down. Studying him for a moment, you eventually say, “I really like yours too, baby.”    He leans over you again with a smile and gently strokes your face. “So…..you’ll keep yours?”    You try to hold onto your resolve, but it fades with every touch of his fingers on your skin. “Yeah,” you agree, the corner of your mouth turning up at the happy little noise that he makes.     “You’re the best,” he says, ducking his head to press his lips against the hollow of your throat. “The best girlfriend in the whole wide world…”     You laugh and wrap your arms around him, kissing the side of his head gently.
JUNGKOOK
“…And then on Saturday, we have the company party,” Jungkook finishes, setting his phone down. He smooths back your hair with his now-free hand and looks down into your face. “Does that all work?”     “Yup.” You finish adding the party to your calendar and smile as he strokes your hair again. You’re lying on the couch, your head in his lap, enjoying a lazy Sunday morning together while you coordinate schedules for the week. You were pretty happy: it was going to be one of those rare weeks where you’d get to see him a lot. “As long as nothing changes, this will be a great week.”    He laughs, and bends over to press his lips against your forehead. Catching your eye, he says with a grin, “Every week with you is a great week.”    You hit his chest lightly, and he just laughs. “You sound slightly sarcastic,” you warn.    “Never.”    You roll your eyes, but get distracted by an incoming text from your friend. “Uh oh….”    His hand pauses in its journey through your hair. “What?”    You turn the screen towards him. “She’s having a little get-together Friday night.”    “Oh.” You can tell he’s not thrilled, but he still tries to cover it. “Well, will we have time to go?..”     “Friday is our one free night,” you confirm, and you can see his expression fall. Smiling a little, you reach out and catch one of his hands, bringing it to your lips. “But she doesn’t need to know that.” You relish the happy-grin that flashes across his face and kiss his fingers again. “Hope you don’t get sick of me.”    He just scoffs and runs his free hand through your hair again.    Smiling contently, you shift slightly, getting more comfortable, and open your social media. “How long until our show’s on?”    “About an hour,” he answers, checking his watch. He squeezes your hand and then slips it from your grip, wrapping it across your waist instead, his thumb absently running along your side. “I still can’t believe they cancelled the rehearsal today.” He sounds relieved.    You look up at him and notice again how tired he looks, worn out from the extra-long week. You rub his arm. “I’m really happy they did,” you say. “You should probably take advantage of your day off and nap, babyboy.”    He nods. “I will. But first…..” he reaches out for your phone and then cranes his head to be closer to you, opening your camera.    “Really, Jungkook, right now??” you whine: your hair is a mess and you hadn’t put on any makeup that morning.    “Yes,” he insists, holding you tighter. His voice gets a little softer like it usually does when he says something cheesy: “Because these are the times I want to remember the most, just sitting here with you.”    You melt immediately and give-in. “All right. But at least put a cute filter on it!”    He laughs, but presses his lips to the side of your head as he takes a few photos. Grinning, he pulls back and switches your phone to his other hand. “You always have a cute filter on, baby.”    “Oh shut up.” You cuddle against him, intertwining your fingers with his. There’s quiet for a moment before you remember something you were going to tell him earlier. “I think we should take Taehyung with us when we go to the beach next week. He really seems like he could use a break.”   He doesn’t reply.   “I mean, maybe we could all go?” you continue. “Jin looks like he’s going to crack soon, but I’ve been a little worried about Tae for a while now.” He still doesn’t answer. “Babe? Hello?” He’s gone completely still, and when you look up, you notice his focus is trained entirely on your phone. “What is it? Do I look that ugly?” It’s a joke, but he doesn’t even crack a smile. “Jungkook, what is it??”    Wordlessly, he turns the screen towards you: it’s a picture of him, taken by you, with hand-written caption scrawled across the bottom reading “the cutest babyboy EVER.” Still mute, he flips to the next picture, a selfie of his you had saved and added the caption “my whole world.” He scrolls to another one.    “Oh.” You feel yourself blushing. “Okay, so—so my friend was telling me about this app where you can put text on pictures, and I…I thought I’d try it out.” You reach for your phone, but he pulls it subtly out of your grasp. “It was just–just for fun.”    But he knows you’re lying, because the pictures go on forever, each of them painstakingly edited with cute, cringey text.    “I–”    Before you can defend yourself further, he leans down and kisses you on the lips, silencing your protests. The kiss is long and intense, and by the end of it you’ve nearly forgotten what you’re so worried about. When he finally pulls away, he runs his fingers gently over your lips. “How did I ever get lucky enough to find you?”    “You…you don’t think they’re cringey?” you ask, still feeling how hot your face was.     “No way.” He leans in again, dropping your phone to pull you a little closer. “I love you, darling.”
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noona-clock · 6 years
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Something’s Brewing❄️☕ - Part 8
Genre: Coffee Shop!AU
Pairing: Jungshin x You
By Admin B
Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12
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One week later, Jungshin’s brother dropped you off at the airport far too early in the morning (Jungshin had, of course, paid him by filling up the fridge and pantry before leaving since he would be staying at the house with Simba while you were gone). You were, unsurprisingly, very chipper and eager to go. Jungshin was still waking up.
You checked your bags before heading to your gate, and with about an hour to kill, you fished your Kindle out of your bag and began to read.
“What’re you reading?” Jungshin murmured, leaning his head on your shoulder and closing his eyes.
“It’s called Manhunt. It’s about the search for John Wilkes Booth right after he assassinated Lincoln.”
“Mm, cool.”
“I’ll wake you up when it’s time to board,” you whispered, kissing his forehead.
“Thanks.”
You felt the exact moment when Jungshin fell asleep; his head got a bit heavier on your shoulder, and then a few moments later, he started breathing more deeply. You smiled to yourself, reaching over and very gently resting a hand on his thigh.
Ugh, you just loved him so much. You were so freaking excited about this trip.
When the flight attendant came over the loudspeaker to announce it was time to board, you put your Kindle away then reached over to pat Jungshin’s cheek.
“Jungshin,” you whispered.
His brow furrowed, but his eyes stayed closed. “Hmm?”
“It’s time to get on the plane, honey.” You kissed his nose, kind of forgetting there were people around.
He let out a sigh, sitting up a little. “Okay,” he croaked.
You boarded not too much longer after that, finding your seats and putting your carry-on bags up in the overhead compartment. Jungshin, ever the gentleman, allowed you to sit in the window seat. He really didn’t care about sitting next to a stranger, and he could always lean over you if he wanted to see the view.
Once you were seated and buckled, Jungshin slid down in his seat so he could lower his head onto your shoulder again.
“Awww,” you chuckled softly, bringing a hand up to pat his cheek. “Sleepy baby.”
Jungshin reached up and took your hand, linking his fingers through yours and holding it in his lap. This made it difficult for you to put in your earbuds and listen to music, but did you move your hand away? Absolutely not.
The plane took off without any delays, thankfully, and you were on your way to New York in no time.
The flight was a little less than two hours long, which was honestly the perfect amount of time for you. You weren’t terrified of flying, but you didn’t enjoy it, either. You listened to your music the whole time to help keep you relaxed, and holding Jungshin’s hand helped, too (even though he was asleep for all two hours). 
Of course, when it came time to do your skincare, holding his hand wasn’t very helpful. But, again, did you move your hand away? Absolutely not.
When you finally landed, you put your free arm across Jungshin’s chest to keep him from falling forward. He woke up immediately, yawning and rubbing his eyes.
You took one earbud out, smiling over at him. “Morning,” you said softly. “We have arrived.”
“Really?” he murmured, sitting up straight and looking out the window. You were, indeed, back on the ground. Not that he’d been awake when you’d left the ground, but he trusted you.
“How was the flight?” he asked, stretching out his arms as well as he could.
“Not too bad, actually.”
“What’d you do? Did you get any sleep?”
“No, I just listened to music and had my own little spa.”
“Say what now?”
“I did a sheet mask and put on some heavy duty moisturizer. My skin always gets so dry after flying, so I learned to bring some skincare with me and do it on the plane.”
“Can’t wait to see that on the way home.”
“Hey, you can use some if you’d like. Not that you need it. Your skin is amazing.”
“Is it?”
“Um, yeah. Trust me, it is.”
“Hmm. Well, thanks, I guess.”
You slowly got off the plane after getting your bags back down, and picking up your checked luggage proved to go no more quickly. All in all, the whole process, from landing in the airplane to getting a taxi outside the airport, took almost an hour.
Finally, around 1pm, your taxi arrived at The Library Hotel. You had been excited before, but now you were truly in a state of heightened anticipation. You followed Jungshin inside, wheeling your suitcase behind you, and standing next to him at the front desk. You marveled at the lobby, itching to explore the rest of the hotel and especially to see your room.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Lee,” the hotel clerk smiled after Jungshin had handed him his driver’s license. “Your room is ready, so let me get your keys… You’ll be on the 9th floor as you requested, room 900.001.”
“Thank you very much,” Jungshin smiled, taking the keys as the clerk handed them to him.
“Ninth floor?” you asked as you headed toward the elevator. “You requested? Which topic is on the ninth floor?”
“You are so impatient, you know that?”
“Yes.”
“The ninth floor,” he said once the elevator doors had closed behind you. “Is the history floor.”
“Really?!” you gasped, smiling.
“Of course. I wouldn’t let you stay on any other floor.”
“Have I said ‘thank you’ for this trip yet?” You knew you had, at least ten times, but you couldn’t help yourself from saying it again.
“Yes,” he laughed, leaning in to kiss you quickly before the elevator doors opened again.
You found your room easily enough, and Jungshin slid the key into the key slot.
“M’lady,” he said, opening the door and holding it open for you. “Your royal suite awaits.
You entered, biting your lip to keep from smiling like an idiot - though you were fairly sure you were failing miserably. You found the bookshelf by the bed, immediately heading there to see what kind of books were there.
“Ooh, World War I, World War II, the Civil Rights movement… This must be the 20th Century room.”
“I wasn’t sure which one you wanted, and there was no specific American History room…”
“No, this is perfect,” you assured him. “I am not going to complain about anything on this trip. I’m just so thankful you’re taking me.”
Jungshin came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder.
“You deserve it, my love.”
You turned around in his embrace, sliding your arms around his neck. “I don’t deserve any of this, especially you, but I don’t care at this point. I’m just rolling with it.”
“Will you stop saying stuff like that?” He squeezed your waist, frowning down at you. “It’s not true!”
“Okay, sorry. I will, I promise.”
“You owe me a kiss.”
“Yes, sir.” You stood on your toes, tightening your hold on his neck and pressing your lips to his. “I love you.”
“I love you, too. Are you as starving as I am?”
“Oh, no doubt about it. There’s a burger place over at Bryant Park not too far from here. Also, a sushi place if you’re feeling sushi.”
“Sushi sounds amazing, actually.”
You fished your favorite pink baseball cap and your glasses out of your bag before you left; you hadn’t put on makeup and was now too lazy to even bother. So a hat and glasses it was.
Your first afternoon/evening went as well as you could’ve hoped; your sushi was amazing, and since the restaurant was so close to the New York Public Library, you popped in to have a look around. 
Jungshin took quite a few pictures, mostly candids without your knowledge, but he did have you pose on the steps of the library, and you took a couple selfies. You also usurped his camera and took some pictures of him, too. New York City was just the perfect backdrop for pictures.
After spending at least an hour in the library, you headed down Fifth Avenue to do some shopping. 
One thing you really loved about Jungshin was that he actually liked shopping. He didn’t get bored when you went into a store, and he gave his honest opinions about things you picked out. 
You hit up Zara, Urban Outfitters, Barnes & Nobles, and finally H&M, refraining yourself from doing any major damage. You were here for an entire week, after all, and it was only the very first evening. 
On the way back from your mini-shopping binge, you passed a sandwich shop called ‘Wichcraft, and you decided the name was too clever to pass up. It was already dinner time, too, so it really was perfect.
With stomachs full of sandwiches, you and Jungshin headed back down Fifth Avenue toward your hotel. You were both fairly exhausted from your flight and your afternoon excursions here in the city, so an evening spent cuddling in bed sounded more than delightful right about now. 
You arrived at your hotel, put your shopping bags away, got ready for the night...and then promptly fell onto the bed.
“Well, I would say we made good use of our time today,” you said, yawning.
“I would agree. Two good meals, a historic landmark, and shopping? We’re basically pros at this tourist thing now.”
“We are!” you laughed, rolling onto your side to face him. “I can but also can’t believe this is our first trip together.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Mm,” you nodded. “I can believe it because we haven’t been anywhere else. But I can’t because it feels like we’ve been together forever.”
“And yet it’s only been six months.”
“Right?! Crazy.”
After you talked a little more, you begged him to get out his laptop and upload the photos he’d taken. You wanted to share one of you at the library on Instagram. 
You had, of course, been posting a lot to your Instagram story, as had Jungshin, but the pictures Jungshin had taken looked so good. 
You picked one of the candids you didn’t hate (one of you putting a book back on the shelf) and had him AirDrop it to your phone. Once you had added all the filters and adjusted all the settings to your liking, you typed out your caption. 
You chuckled as you wrote, hiding your phone from Jungshin and telling him he’d have to wait until you finished, just like everyone else.
Finally, you pressed the ‘share’ button, causing the notifications to pop up on Jungshin’s phone.
yourusername just shared a post
yourusername just mentioned you in a comment
He immediately liked the picture, as usual, before reading the caption.
yourusername Observe! A rare sighting of a pink-headed Y/N in her natural habitat. #thatbooknerdlife #belleismyspiritguide @nypl | Photo by @leejungshin91
“How do you come up with captions like that?” he asked, chuckling.
“Who knows where thoughts come from? They just appear.”
You got a notification then, picking up your phone to see Taylor had left a comment.
cnbluefan This is so cute!!! @leejungshin91 is such a talented photographer. I’m already loving following along with you guys! Makes me want to visit New York! Can’t wait to see more pictures and posts on your stories. P.s. your captions are the best 😂
You read it out loud to Jungshin, and he knew right away he had to reply!
leejungshin91 @cnbluefan I literally just asked her how she comes up with these captions!! 😂🤔 also thanks for the compliment 🙏
Jungshin posted his own picture of him walking up ahead of the camera, the busy streets and buildings providing a nice backdrop. He couldn’t think of a caption so he simply put
leejungshin91 🏃🏙 #nyc
📸 by @yourusername
You put your phones away then, and you picked out a book on the Kennedy assassination from the bookshelf by your bed.
“It’s story time,” you smirked, lifting up the covers and snuggling under.
Jungshin chuckled, rolling his eyes a little as he cuddled up to you. He, of course, fell asleep as you were reading, but you really didn’t expect anything different.
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The next morning, you awoke around 7. You’d woken up a few times already, but it had been too early for you to justify actually getting up. Now, you started to slip out of bed to take a quick shower, hoping not to wake up Jungshin.
You didn’t even manage to set one foot on the floor before your plan was destroyed. His arm was laying across your middle, and when you sat up, he let out a sleepy groan and tightened his hold on you. Letting out a sigh, you laid back down, turning to face him.
“I need to take a shower,” you whispered, even though you knew he wasn’t fully awake.
“Mm,” he hummed, his brow furrowed.
God, he was so cute, what were you supposed to do?
...Well. You could think of one thing.
You scooted closer, your noses brushing, and you gently placed your lips on his. You let one hand roam down his chest until it got to the hem of his t-shirt, your fingers slipping underneath. You needed to take a shower anyway, and he needed to wake up, so…
You continued to kiss him, managing to push him onto his back so you could straddle his hips. When you took his hands and put them on your thighs, you finally felt him stir.
“Good morning,” you murmured against his lips before tugging at his lower lip with your teeth. He groaned softly, just barely kissing you back. You moved your hands back to the hem of his shirt, lifting it up and eventually getting it over his head.
“What’re you doing?” he muttered, his voice thick with sleep.
You bent over him, placing your lips on his bare shoulder then moving them down to his chest. “Kissing you,” you answered, your lips brushing against his skin.
“But it’s so early.”
“Okay, I’ll stop.” You sat back up and moved to get off him, but his hands - still on your thighs - tightened their grip.
“I wasn’t complaining. Just stating a fact.” His eyes were fully open now, and his fingers danced their way up your thigh, playing with the hem of your pajama shorts.
“So, I can continue kissing you?” you asked, innocently twirling the drawstring from his pants around your finger.
“Please do.”
You resumed kissing his chest and shoulders, but that only lasted for about thirty seconds before Jungshin flipped you over onto your back and had his way with you…
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Over an hour later, you and Jungshin were on the hunt for a good breakfast spot. You were both wide awake and feeling refreshed after a shower, and you were feeling particularly good about your outfit and makeup today. You were just wearing a plain white t-shirt with a light leather jacket, ripped jeans and your white Converse, but you felt so chic for some reason. 
Maybe it was your purple lipstick. Come to think of it, it probably was. Purple lipstick always made you feel just a bit more confident.
After finding a quaint coffee shop not too far away and feasting on croissants and hot, caffeinated beverages, you started on your adventures for the day.
Today was art museum day; you had plans to visit The Met and MoMA, and if you had time later, The Whitney. You had found some cool-sounding restaurants for lunch and dinner, and any and everywhere you went was sure to be picture and Instagram worthy.
As far as first days of a trip go, this one was pretty perfect. You walked all the way up to the Upper East Side, strolling along the edge of Central Park before arriving at The Met. 
You admired all kinds of historic art, and the place was so huge you spent over two hours there. 
As you headed back down to MoMA, you decided to walk through Central Park to take some pictures. You spent quite a bit more time there than expected what with all the beautiful scenery and opportunities for pictures (plus, you’d had to trek over to the other side of the park to see the John Lennon memorial), and by the time you were headed to MoMA, both of you were absolutely starving.
You checked your phone and saw one of the places you’d found earlier, PizzArte, was just around the corner. Everything sounded good to you right now, but pizza sounded especially good, so it wasn’t a tough decision to make.
As you ate, you looked up all the musicals and plays currently on Broadway, hoping you could get tickets for something tomorrow afternoon or evening.
“OOH, Anastasia!!!!” you cried when you saw it on the list.
“Like the cartoon movie?”
“YEAH! I forgot that already opened! Can we go see that, please?!”
“Whatever you want to see, we will see,” he assured you, winking.
“Well, except Hamilton. Tickets aren’t available until November, I checked.”
“But we’ll still go see the theater.”
“Right! Excited about that! Okay, let’s look at tickets…” You found some fairly good seats for relatively cheap, so you bought them quickly. 
And you consequently spent the next few hours being way too excited about it. Including when you were in MoMA. You admired the art respectfully, of course, but every so often you would tug on Jungshin’s sleeve and whisper ‘We’re going to see Anastasia tomorrow.’
When you exited your second art museum of the day, you decided to make your way back to your hotel for a breather. You still had plans to visit one more art museum down on the other side of town, so you needed to recharge before heading out for the evening.
As you were resting up in your hotel room, you obviously took the opportunity to go through all the pictures you’d taken and post your favorites on Instagram. You chose one you had taken of Jungshin at the pizza place as well as two of your favorite pieces of art from the museums and a selfie of the two of you in Central Park.
yourusername Day ☝ in NYC: Pizza ✅ Art museums ✅ Central Park ✅ Good times ✅
Jungshin decided to save his Instagram post for later, opting instead to call one of his assistant managers at The Grind to see how things were going. He ended up talking to him for a while, and if you weren’t back at the hotel doing nothing, you would’ve been kind of annoyed. He was supposed to be on vacation, after all. But you weren’t doing anything important, so it really wasn’t a huge deal.
Once you felt fully (well, almost fully) rested, and your phone and camera batteries were all charged, you headed to the nearest Subway station to make your way toward Greenwich Village where the Whitney was located. You were also looking forward to going to Chelsea Market since it’s where all the Food Network studios were, and Jungshin was excited to walk along the High Line and take more pictures.
Since The Whitney was open until 10pm on Saturdays, you decided to hit up the High Line while it was still light outside. You were a little disappointed to find it was just a glorified sidewalk, but Jungshin had too much fun taking pictures with the greenery and the buildings. He was so cute and happy, you forgot you’d even been disappointed in the first place.
Dinner was next on the schedule, and Chelsea Market did not disappoint. You had Asian inspired tacos and marveled at the warehouse aesthetic of the building. There was even a spot with pretty fairy lights hung on the wall that was the perfect background for a picture. 
Jungshin forced you to stand in front of it, telling you what to do and how to pose since you really had no idea. You basically had your own little photo shoot right there, but the pictures turned out awesome, so… Totally worth the public embarrassment.
You eventually headed toward The Whitney (though you made a quick stop in a Sephora on the way there because -- Sephora), taking in the sights and sounds of Greenwich Village on the way. The Whitney was definitely one of the “cooler” museums; smaller and in a more hipster location while also featuring lesser-known modern artists. But it was just as awe-inspiring as The Met and MoMA, and you were glad the two of you had made time to visit.
You hopped back on the Subway after exiting the museum, heading up toward your hotel in Midtown. It wasn’t quite dark outside yet, but you’d had a full day and were both ready to settle in for the night.
Jungshin, of course, uploaded all his pictures from his camera as soon as you got back into your room. He was extremely pleased with how they’d come out, and he honestly had a hard time picking which one(s) to post. He knew he could post more later as some #TBTs, but still. 
After much debate and some input from the model (a.k.a you), he decided on posting two pictures from the fairy lights room in Chelsea Market. They were two very similar pictures: close-ups of you, except one was a more casual pose, one hand on your hair by your ear and your eyes downcast as one side of your mouth pulled up ever so slightly in a half smile-half smirk, while the other was one of you genuinely laughing. You’d been laughing at yourself, of course, but for all anyone else knew, you were laughing at something funny Jungshin had said.
He edited the pictures to make both your lipstick and the fairy lights behind you pop before uploading them to Instagram.
leejungshin91 When you find a girl who puts up with your photography obsession (and who just so happens to look stunning on camera) 👌😍💜 @chelseamarketny
You just rolled your eyes when you read the caption, fighting off a blush. “Whatever,” you murmured.
“What do you mean ‘whatever’?” Jungshin exclaimed, tackling you back onto the bed. He kept you pinned there until you admitted you were pretty and photogenic which didn’t take long once he started tickling you.
You were able to free yourself after quite the struggle, darting into the bathroom and locking the door so you could get ready for bed. When you emerged, you went to your suitcase and grabbed your laptop and earbuds, bringing them with you to the bed.
“What’s that?” Jungshin asked, eyes wide and brow furrowed.
“...My laptop?”
“Why do you need your laptop?”
“Because I want to catch up on my YouTube subscriptions.” It had been a couple days, and you were sure you had more than a few conspiracy theory videos and makeup tutorials to watch.
“But… I wanted to cuddle.”
“I can cuddle and watch YouTube at the same time! It’s called multitasking.”
“Okay,” he sighed, lifting up the covers for you. You snuggled in, plugging in your earbuds, only sticking one in your ear on the opposite side of Jungshin.
You propped your head and shoulders up against your pillow, Jungshin lying down beside you, resting his head on your arm and his own arm across your stomach. 
He tried nuzzling your neck, caressing your side with his thumb, wrapping his leg over yours, but your focus never wavered from your videos. Finally, he tilted his head and started kissing your jaw, savoring the feel of your skin against his lips. You simply brought a hand up to cover his face, though you did say ‘I love you’ very sweetly.
Obviously, he was getting nowhere, so he decided to just look at his phone until he got sleepy. He knew not every night had to be fun, but still. He couldn’t help but be a tiny, teeny bit bummed. 
Tomorrow was a new day, however, and you had talked about doing typical tourist things - Empire State Building, Statue of Liberty, Ellis Island, Ground Zero, and the like. He was quite looking forward to it.
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Even though You and Jungshin didn’t get the next morning started off in exactly the same way as the previous one, it still turned out to be an extremely enjoyable day. 
You did end up being the epitome of NYC tourists, complete with ending the night seeing a Broadway show - which was fantastic, by the way. You kept grabbing onto Jungshin’s arm because you loved this movie growing up, and seeing it on stage was a bit emotional for you.
You decided to walk back to your hotel after the show since it really wasn’t that far, and the night was beautiful. If only you could see the stars; then it would be perfect.
“So, what was your favorite part of day two?” you asked as you waited to cross a street, clinging onto Jungshin’s hand and arm.
“Hmmm… I really enjoyed the Empire State building,” he said, though he looked like he was still thinking. “Ellis Island was really cool, too, though. ...Yeah, I think I liked those two the best. OH, I also really liked where we went for lunch.”
“George’s! Yeah, that was delicious.”
“What about you? What was your favorite part?”
“Anastasia,” you replied immediately as you started to walk across the street.
“I figured,” he chuckled, glancing over at you. “It was really good.”
“I would like to see at least one more while we’re here,” you said, furrowing your brow as you tried to remember which shows were playing. Besides Hamilton.
“We can look tonight and see what we can find.”
“Okay!” You squeezed his hand, skipping a little bit in excitement.
“You’ve been in a really good mood since we got here,” he pointed out, smiling.
“Well, yeah. I’m here with you doing all this fun stuff. How could I be in a bad mood?”
“You’ve got a point.”
You tugged on his hand, pulling him closer to you and kissing him quickly as you walked. “I love you,” you said softly.
“I love you more.”
“Oh, god. NO. We are not starting that again.”
“Sorry! Sorry, I won’t, I promise.”
When you got back to the hotel, you looked up the other shows on Broadway, finally deciding to see School of Rock on Tuesday night. You were both a big fan of the movie, so it had been an easy decision.
“You sure you won’t tell me what we’re doing tomorrow?” you asked again, trying to look extra cute and adorable to try and break him down.
“I’m sure,” Jungshin replied for the seventeenth time. “We’re doing it early on in the day, so you don’t have to wait too much longer.”
If you couldn’t coerce him by being cute, maybe you could go the other way on the scale.
You closed the lid of his laptop, moving it to the side table before you straddled his hips. “There’s something else I don’t want to wait for…” you said softly, brushing your lips against his.
“I’m still not telling you.”
“Damn it!”
“But I will gladly take what you were about to offer.”
“You can wait.” You moved off him, getting under the covers and lying down facing away from him.
He simply shook his head, smirking to himself before settling under the covers, too. 
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The next morning, you didn’t wake up until 8 (though you did wake up a couple times during the night). You were still the first one awake, though, and since Jungshin wasn’t cuddling you at the moment, you were able to get out of bed and take a shower without disturbing him.
Jungshin woke up not long afterward, turning his head to see the bed was already empty save for him. He could hear the shower running in the bathroom, and he entertained the idea of going in there to join you… But then he thought better of it. He would probably end up telling you all the surprises he had left in the trip, and that would be no bueno.
Instead, he got out his phone and waited for you to emerge. Thankfully, he didn’t have to wait long, because right after he pulled up Instagram he heard the water turn off. The door opened a couple minutes later, and Jungshin glanced up from his phone to smile at you.
“Morning, sunshine.” It was the first time he’d spoken, so his voice still sounded a bit groggy.
“Morning!” You replied, “How’d you sleep?”
He watched as you sat down at the desk near the foot of the bed to do your makeup, admiring your outfit - a striped shirt, black ripped jeans, and a light wash jean jacket. “Same way I always do,” he replied. “What about you? Did you wake up at all?”
“Yeah, a couple times. Around 1 and 4, I think.”
“You know you can always wake me up if you need to. If you need me to scratch your back or something.”
“I did think about it, honestly, but you were totally knocked out. You looked so cute.”
Jungshin blushed, finally getting out of bed to go brush his teeth and get changed. “No, really, you can wake me up. I’m not grumpy when I wake up.”
“You’re right, you’re not. Huh. I never really noticed that.”
“I’m not really a morning person, but I’m not grumpy in the mornings, either.”
You did your makeup while Jungshin got ready, putting on everything you normally did. But when you got to your lipstick, you were stuck.
“What do you think, babe?” you asked, taking out a red lipstick and a pink lipstick. “Red or pink?”
Jungshin came up behind you, resting his hands on the back of your chair. “Definitely red. Red and black is a classic combo.”
“Red it is.” You put the pink lipstick away then opened the red, leaning in toward the mirror and applying it carefully.
“You look really good today,” he said, looking at you in the mirror.
“Aw, thanks.”
“I mean, you look good all the time. But today you just look… There’s something about that outfit. And the red lipstick is the perfect touch.”
“I feel like guys always like red lipstick,” You pointed out, standing up and turning toward him. “Usually when I wear it, a guy will comment on my makeup. And that never happens.”
“Guys are weird.”
“I know, right?”
You headed out once you grabbed your purse, planning on going to another nearby coffee shop for breakfast.
“So,” Jungshin began when you left the shop with your pastries and drinks. “We need to be at The Battery by 11.”
“The Battery by 11. Okay.” You immediately started trying to figure out what you could be doing, but you had no idea. You figured it was probably a tour since you had to be there by a certain time.
“The Battery is down near where we were yesterday, down by where we got on the boat for Ellis Island and stuff. So, let’s head down there now, and I’m sure we can find stuff to do while we wait.”
“Sounds like a plan, my man.”
You went back to the same Subway station as yesterday, following the same route you took previously. You looked up what else you could do, and you gasped when you saw the National Archives were across the street.
“Yes, we can go.”
“You are literally the best boyfriend in the whole entire universe, I’m not even joking.”
He chuckled, blushing a little bit as he reached over to pat your knee. “You do tell good jokes, though, just for the record.”
When you arrived down in the Financial District, you headed right to the National Archives. You were so in your element, it wasn’t even funny. You even got into a conversation with an employee there which Jungshin had never witnessed before - you willingly talking to a stranger, that is.
Jungshin noticed when it was 10:30, and he tried to tell you it was time to leave as delicately as he could. But he knew you wouldn’t be disappointed when you reached your final destination.
“Will you tell me what we’re doing now?” you asked once you were outside and headed toward Battery Park.
There really wasn’t any more time to keep it a secret, was there? He took your hand, biting back a smile. “We are going on a tour called ‘Hamilton’s Wall Street.’”
“As in... Alexander?”
“That’s the one. We’ll get to see important places on Wall Street and around this area and hear about what he did.”
“Nuh uh, that is so cool!” You squeezed his hand, jumping up and down a little as you walked.
You were enraptured the moment the tour started, hanging on the tour guide’s every word. And when he asked a question about something - anything - you always knew the answer. You quickly gained the reputation of being the nerdy smarty pants in your tour group, and Jungshin was so proud.
You talked a while at The Battery before moving on to Federal Hall and Trinity Church. The tour ended at Fraunces Tavern, a place Hamilton apparently frequented, where you ended up just staying for lunch. Once the tour guide left and you and Jungshin were sitting at your table to eat, you reached over to take his hand.
“That was unbelievable,” you said, smiling widely. “Thank you so much for doing that.”
“I thought you would like it.”
“No, I didn’t like it.”
“You loved it.”
You just smiled again, nodding your head once as you tangled your feet with his underneath the table.
Once you finished lunch they headed toward the Brooklyn Bridge, one of your favorite things in all of New York. On the other side, you headed toward Brooklyn Bridge Park and decided to just relax and take it easy. You still had three more full days left in the city; plenty of time left to be busy. Now it was time to slow down and live in the moment. 
You didn’t take your phones out, Jungshin barely took any pictures. You simply walked, talked, sat, admired the scenery, and enjoyed each other’s company.
That is, until you got hungry. You whipped out your phone then, finding a Polish diner nearby with really good reviews.
After feasting on kielbasa and pierogis, you figured out a Subway route to get back to your hotel and hopped on the next train heading midtown to settle in for the night. 
Your trip was just about halfway over now, and you could safely say it was one of the best vacations you’d ever been on.
You couldn’t wait to see what the next few days had in store.
Part 9
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justlookfrightened · 7 years
Text
NHL!Jack, Part 3
There's a short NSFW bit towards the beginning; if you want to skip it, stop after the second graf (ending "feeling their time was limited"). Skip the next three grafs, picking up at "When it was over ...") and know both of them enjoyed themselves immensely, and that Jack was a little surprised at how comfortable it was.
Part 1   Part 2  Part 4   Part 5
Part 6   
Part 7   or AO3
When it came time to leave Bitty’s hotel room, Jack tried very hard not to think about the fact that the next time he talked to Bitty, he’d likely be three states away. The distance would only grow when the Falconers returned to Providence.
He tried to focus on the last two hours instead. It wasn’t magical, precisely, but it was awfully good — and far less awkward than Jack had feared. They hadn’t done so much, really. In some ways, it reminded him of the first fumbling encounters with Kent, fast and sloppy blow jobs and hand jobs in nondescript hotel rooms on the road, knowing the door was locked against their teammates, but always feeling their time was limited.
With Bitty, though, it was so much better. Not only because Bitty had a small bottle of lube tucked into his bag, which made the feeling of Bitty’s hand stroking him exquisite. Then when Bitty pushed him down and settled between his knees without Jack even having to ask -- no, Bitty had done the asking, looking up at Jack from under his lashes, saying “Can I?” -- that was nearly enough to make Jack come as soon as Bitty’s mouth touched him.
Then he lasted what should have been an embarrassingly short time, but Bitty seemed to take it in stride, just spreading some lube on Jack’s hand, joining it with his, and placing both of them on his own still-hard erection.
“Like this,” Bitty whispered into Jack’s neck, showing Jack how to pull at him. In the end, he didn't last much longer than Jack.
When it was over and they’d cleaned up, Bitty pulled the covers over them and curled into Jack’s side.
“Sleep or talk?” Bitty asked.
It was all Jack could do to stay awake, but he murmured, “Don't want to waste our time together.”
“But you're tired, sweet pea,” Bitty said. “Tell you what, ask me questions and I'll just ramble along."
Jack tried to protest because Bitty had a long day of driving ahead of him, but Bitty just started talking about the mini pies he’d made when Jack turned up in Samwell. So Jack asked him how he learned to cook, and Bitty told Jack about spending days in his MooMaw’s kitchen while his Mama and coach were at work.
“Your coach?” Jack asked.
“Coach is my dad, not my coach,” Bitty said. “He's the high school football coach in town. Everyone calls him Coach.”
Jack wanted to pursue that, but it might be too much at this time of night.
“What was the music you were listening to when you were making breakfast?”
That was either a very good or very bad question, judging by the way Bitty dropped his jaw and gasped audibly.
“You didn't recognize Beyonce? Vintage Beyonce even? Wait, who do you listen to?”
Jack shrugged. He knew what was coming.
“Euh, Coldplay, Wilco, maybe some Neil Young or Tom Petty.”
“Oh my God, Jack,” Bitty said. “Anyone from this century?”
“Adele can sing,” Jack said.
Bitty allowed that Adele could, in fact, sing, but then started throwing names at him. Some were the same names that Jack heard in association with music from the younger guys in the locker room, but for all that he could say they were musicians, he had no idea which singer went with which song.
“Oh, my Lord, Jack, are you sure you don’t have actual children somewhere? Because you and Coach could bond over, I don’t know, the Traveling Wilburys or something,” Bitty said. Jack knew he was being chirped about his dad music, but the affection in it was plan on Bitty’s face and in his voice, so Jack just said, “I like them,” and started singing, “She’s My Baby.”
Bitty laughed, more with him than at him, and said, “Be prepared. I will be sending you playlists.”
“Are those like mixtapes?” Jack asked., trying to keep the proper sense of bewilderment in his voice but nearly laughing instead.
“Hush, you,” Bitty said. “I know you know what a playlist is.”
When they’d settled again, this time with Bitty’s head on Jack’s shoulder and Jack stroking the short, soft hair behind his ear, Bitty asked, “Don’t be mad at me asking, but you do know how to use Skype, don’t you?”
“Yes,” Jack said. “I Skype with my parents once or twice a week.”
“If we exchange contact information, maybe we could Skype when you have time?” Bitty said. “I know how busy you are now, and if things go the way we hope, it’ll be that way for a little while yet, but maybe we could find a time that works for you? On your off days?”
Jack bent his neck to kiss the top of Bitty’s head. “Every day,” he said. “Or at least, I’ll try. Once next season starts, it might be hard, depending on our schedules.”
Bitty had nodded, a movement Jack felt rather than saw, and said, “We’ll try our best.”
Then Bitty had yawned, and they lay there together in comfortable silence until the alarm on Bitty’s phone told them it was time for Jack to go.
********************************
If it wasn’t for the time Jack spent talking to Bitty, he’d gladly have forgotten the next two days.
On Friday, the day Bitty left, Jack slept late and woke up to a text from Bitty -- it was a selfie of him and Shitty and Lardo in the breakfast room at their hotel, all holding up those make-your-own waffles that were a fixture of hotel breakfast.
The text included a links to an Instagram and a Twitter account, where Bitty had shared the picture with the caption Spending time with some of my favorite people! #FreeBreakfast #bonus
Jack followed both accounts and noted that neither post included a location tag. Bitty might have been anywhere.
A few minutes later, there was another text, this one just to Jack.
Packed up and headed out. Gonna drop Shitty and Lardo at the train station so they can go back to Boston and head for Georgia. Skype at 10 tonight? That should give me plenty of time.
Jack texted back, Sure thing, I already miss you.
The reply came before he even put the phone down.
Me too sweetpea.
What followed was a usual road off-day: high-protein breakfast, light workout, team meetings, lunch, watching tape, rest, team dinner, more tape. Marty sought him out at lunch but couldn’t pry too much because the other guys were there. He just asked how Jack’s dinner with his friend had gone.
“Friends, actually,” Jack said. “But it was good to get away from hockey for a bit.”
He wasn’t sure whether Tater noticed Marty’s raised eyebrows; he joined the conversation by saying, “I didn’t know Zimmboni had friends in Washington.”
“They were just here for a visit,” Jack said. “They left this morning.”
“Lucky you could hook up then,” Tater said, and Marty choked and blamed the water for going down the wrong pipe.
Every couple of hours, Jack would get a text from Bitty, sometimes with a photograph of an old gas station or just a quip about how he knew he was getting further south by the way the humidity was making his hair frizz.
There was a picture about 1 p.m. of a bowl of barbecue and a biscuit, and at around 7:30, there was a picture of a two-story house with a deep shaded porch and an attached garage. The grass was a brilliant green, and the soil that showed at the edges of the driveway and front walk was more russet than black. A red flag with a big black G in the center hung from a pole attached to the porch.
Home sweet home, the caption read.
Then, Mama’s gonna want to feed me and hear all about my trip. Still on to Skype at 10?
I’ll be waiting, Jack texted back.
He wondered if Bitty telling his mother all about his trip included telling her about Jack. Jack decided it probably didn’t. They hadn’t yet discussed how private they would keep their relationship; so far, only Shitty and Lardo really knew. And Marty, probably.
It would be fine with Jack if Bitty wanted to tell his parents. But it was something they should talk about.
Jack decided he wouldn��t talk about Bitty to his parents when he called them. Telling them would be perfectly safe -- he was sure of that -- but it should be something he and Bitty decided together.
Still, it made for an awkward Skype call home. Jack felt like he sounded kind of pathetic: What had he been doing outside of hockey? Nothing really. Just hanging out with the team, watching tape, sometimes taking a break to watch the History Channel (every hotel had the History Channel) or read a book, because Mama and Papa insisted that being a hockey player did not mean he should neglect his mind. If not for Bitty, that’s exactly what he would have done, but now (after two dates? Encounters?) he felt like he was leaving the best parts out. Even if he really couldn’t have talked about all the best parts. But the mini pies and the omelets and the falafel and Bitty chirping him over his musical taste -- he could have told them all of that.
Maybe that was why, when Bitty connected their Skype call and popped up in his screen, he jumped in way too quickly. He did take a moment to appreciate that Bitty was clearly in his childhood bedroom, with cream colored walls, a shelf behind him with lots of medals, and a poster of a beautiful woman (Jack assumed she was Beyonce from the way Bitty talked about her) and a poster of Patrick Chan.
Bitty himself was smiling a little too brightly, like he was tired and didn’t want to show it.
“Hey there,” Bitty said. “Good rest day?”
“Good enough,” Jack said. “The usual. I just talked to my parents.”
“What a coincidence,” Bitty said. “I just talked to mine.”
“I wanted to know if it was ok if told my parents about us,” Jack said. “I didn’t tonight, because we hadn’t discussed it, but I wanted to. It’s fine with me if you told your parents, or if you want to.”
Bitty sat up the way he did when something surprised him (and Jack loved that he already knew that) and said, “Jack, my parents don’t know.”
“About what?” Jack said.
“About me,” Bitty said. “They don’t know I’m gay.”
“But you said you’d known since you were a kid,” Jack said. “And Shitty knew, and Lardo, so I guess your college team did?”
“Yes, all of that, but just because I knew doesn’t mean I told anyone here,” Bitty said. “Jack. this is a small town in Georgia. What’s more, I’m the football coach’s kid. I can’t be gay here. It wouldn’t be good for me. Heck, it could cost Coach his job, unless he publicly disowned me or something.”
“That makes no sense,” Jack said. “How could your sexual orientation have anything to do with your dad’s job?”
“It doesn’t, but there are people who would think that they made me gay or something, or that my being gay is a punishment visited upon my parents,” Bitty said. “My dad serves at the pleasure of the school board. They don’t need a real reason to let him go. I mean, he’s the winningest coach they ever had, so I don’t think they would, but that wouldn’t matter if the team turned on him,”
“But can’t you at least tell your parents?” said Jack, recalling some of the fond memories Bitty had shared with him after the game in Washington. “Even if you don’t tell anyone else. Keeping secrets like that -- it can’t be good for you.”
Bitty shrugged and didn’t look exactly at the camera. “I’m not sure how they would take it,” he said. “I mean, if they don’t already know, they suspect, but they never bring it up, and neither do I. Anyway, I told them at dinner that I’m leaving for Houston next week. It’s not like I’m really out there, but even as a member of the Aeros, people are paying less attention to what I do than they do here. And I’m pretty sure Ricks and Pops know, or at least think I’m gay, and they don’t care.
“So then Mama and Coach all but accused me of being too big for my britches, wanting to move away. Until I said I wanted to train with the strength coach to make it more likely I’ll make the team out of camp next year. Once it was about sports, Coach was all for it.”
Jack stopped and thought about the Aeros he knew -- Pops, of course, and Gus and Monty -- and said, “The ones I know are good guys. I wouldn’t expect any of them to give you a problem. If you wanted to be out-out, like publicly, I’m not sure how the marketing people would take it.”
“What about you?” Bitty asked Jack. “Marty knows. Anyone else?”
“My parents,” said Jack. “And I was in a relationship with someone else who ended up in the league, but it was a long time ago. I’m pretty sure other guys know, or at least think I’m not straight. But I’ve been around a while. I guess I’m not saying I’m ready to be out either, but if it happened, I’d be ok. Your position is a little tougher.”
“I know,” Bitty said.
“We’ll be as careful as you need to be,” Jack said, and felt a lump rise in his throat at what he was about to say next. “But are you sure you want to do this? I want to, but I’ll understand if you don’t. No one has to know anything happened between us.”
“Hush, you,” Bitty said, giving a small but genuine smile. “Of course I do. I don’t invite just anyone out for late-night falafel. I’m sorry I’m so serious.”
Jack smiled in relief and changed the subject.
“Why do you have a poster of Patrick Chan on your wall?”
“You don’t know Beyonce and you know Patrick Chan?” Bitty asked.
“I am from Canada,” Jack said. “I was at Sochi.”
“Of course you were,” Bitty said. “Wait -- do you actually know him?”
Jack shrugged.
“We’ve met,” he said.
*****************************************
The next day was more of the same for Jack: fuel his body, rest, bond with his team, until the game started.
This game was a disaster. The Falconers weren’t shut out, but it was a near thing. Thirdy scored a meaningless goal five minutes before the end of the game, but at 4-1 it already felt out of reach.
When it was over, Jack tapped Snowy’s helmet and said, “That wasn’t on you, man.”
It wasn’t. Maybe one of the goals was a little soft, but other times Snowy stood on his head to bail out his team. Anyway, all wins were team wins and all losses were team losses.
Since it was a matinee, the team cleaned up and boarded the bus to head directly to the airport and go home, preparing for a game Tuesday night.
Most of the veterans -- the guys Jack’s age or older -- were looking forward to their own beds, and many of them couldn’t wait to see their wives and kids. Some were looking to reconnect with their girlfriends.
Mats told them they had tonight off; after that, they’d be sequestered in a hotel until the next game, because no one needed to be getting up to handle 2 a.m. feedings or soothe restless toddlers or “indulging in other late-night activities,” Mats said, the night before the most important game of the season so far.
Jack was pretty sure he was the only one flying further from the person he wanted to see, and pretty sure he was the only one who was wishing he could spend time with his boyfriend. Was Bitty his boyfriend yet? Jack wanted him to be.
Marty sat next to him on the plane.
Using the cover of the engine noise, he leaned closer to Jack.
“How’re things with Bitty?”
“Good,” Jack said, because despite an awkward conversation the night before, they were good. He really liked Bitty, was pretty sure that he could love Bitty given half a chance. “He’s really good. We’re going to try to make something work.”
“I’m happy for you,” Marty said. “How long have you been here? Seven years? This is the first time I’ve seen your head turned. Pops says he’s a good kid.”
“About that,” Jack said. “Is it going to be ok, Pops knowing about this? I mean, I trust you, and Pops has always seemed like a good guy. But Bitty’s new in the league, and they might not want someone that seems like he’s rocking the boat.”
“Nah, you don’t have to worry about Pops,” Marty said. “He wants Bitty to be happy, and he wants Bitty to be happy there. What about his friend Ricks?”
“Bitty thinks he’s fine,” Jack said. “But he hasn’t told either of them defininitively.”
Marty shrugged.
“Maybe keep it that way for a little while? Not that I think there’s a problem, but the more people know …”
“I know,” Jack said. “But thanks. For telling me to go for it.”
“Whatever you need, kiddo,” Marty said.
“Oh -- I hope you don’t mind,” Jack said. “I gave Bitty your phone number. He said he wants to know your favorite kind of pie. But don’t expect it until we’re done playing.”
Marty laughed.
“Tell him peach,” Marty said. “And he can call me anytime.”
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savetheblackpaladin · 7 years
Note
Drabble with Shiro when he s/o leaves him alone with his 3 month old daughter for the first time?
OH my god, yes!!! 3 month old potato babies are such good babies!!! (I personally love young babies bc they’re trying to figure out EVERYTHING and they’re so SMART and they’re so SMILEY and I JUST LOVE BABIES OKAY)
Also because I can’t let this go, Shiro still has twin girls: Astrid and Hayden bc I’M WEAK
“Babe, we’re gonna be fine.” Shiro’s voice is soft and reassuring, even as you close the door again for the third time to give your darling twins a mournful look. How could you leave them when they’re so helpless! Look at them playing on the floor! They can’t even roll over yet!
“Shiro”, you sound anxious and you know it, “I don’t need to leave. It’s fine, I can just stay here and–”
“Nope!”, he interrupts, lightly shoving you towards the door, “I’m a grown man. I’m fully capable of taking care of the two humans I helped create.” While you definitely agreed you still couldn’t help but protest as Shiro managed to get you physically on the other side of the door and continued to ignore you. “Go out with Allura and Lance. Enjoy your spa day. Enjoy eating whatever restaurant they drag you to. Just…”, he paused to kiss your cheek, “I’ve got everything here, okay? I’ve been watching you be an excellent momma for three months. I won’t be as good as you, but I am their dad. I can handle two sweet babies for five hours.”
“Just last night you called them demons from hell…”
“Okay but that’s because it was two in the morning and my turn to feed. Now stop stalling and enjoy having a life!” You pouted but finally felt yourself giving in. Because no matter how much you didn’t want to leave your little ones, you desperately needed some time off.
Besides, if you couldn’t leave your girls alone with their own father then you’ve obviously made a wrong choice in who you let knock you up in the first place.
Which you didn’t because, come on, Shiro’s literally the best human in existence. Also he read more parenting books than you and was actually really good at getting them to take a bottle (which your sore nipples greatly appreciates on most nights). They were in the best care possible and yet…
“Okay but send me pictures–”
“On the hour, every hour.”
“And let me know–”
“I’ll basically be livestreaming via text.”
“Okay and if you can’t–”
“Babe!”, Shiro’s loud voice stopped your mini-rant and you gazed at him with wide-eyes, “Go. Have. Fun. Let me have quality dad-time with my babies. You can’t hog them. Now, go. That’s an order.”
You pouted but the sound of Lance’s car pulling up and Lance shouting ’Yeah, hi, I’m here to pick up a hot mom?’ made the choice for you. You gave Shiro one last kiss on the lips and slowly trudged through the snow towards your friends. You glanced back one last time to see Shiro giving you a thumbs up before Allura physically pulled you in.
They’d be okay. Yep yep! Of course they would! It was only your anxious parental instincts telling you otherwise. 
Things were not fine.
In fact, as Shiro finally closed the front door behind you it was like a switch flicked on in the girls’ minds. They knew their momma was gone.
The crying was immediate and Shiro cursed under his breath as he crawled over, laying next to Astrid and gently shushing them both as he reached over to gently caress their soft heads with each hand. “Shh, shhh, shhhh, hey now…hey now….I know, I know…you miss momma….that’s okay, daddy’s here….daddy’s got you…yeah, that’s it! Wipe those tears!….Hey starshines!”
Shiro felt his heart soar as Hayden, who was farthest from his body, did her best to roll closer, her little hands reaching for her daddy but those traitorous back legs refusing to move with her tiny body. Astrid resumed playing with the toys dangling above her, content that one parent was close by and thus all was right in her world.
Shiro sighed. He could do this. Minor panic averted. His girls were just lonely. But that’s okay. He could lay on the floor for five hours.
Speaking of….”You girls want some tummy time?” Both girl’s looked over at the sound of his voice and ‘coo’ed, flailing their arms in excitement as daddy’s hands reached towards them, only to feel utterly betrayed as he flipped them on their tummies rather than pick them up. The monster.
Shiro maneuvered them so they were facing each other with a plethora of soft, brightly colored toys between them as he assumed a similar position beside them. “That’s it! Look, I’m doing it too! Isn’t this fun? Holding up our heads is totally fun! Gotta work those neck muscles!”
Astrid protested with a small cry. “Ooohhh, I know,” Shiro baby talked in response to her tears, “It’s soooo hard holding our head up but you gotta, baby girl. Yeeeah, I know, I know, it sucks…tell me all about it…yeah? That bad? Well you got like, 10 minutes, so keep telling me how awful this is.” He smiled as he watched his girls hold their heads up, his heart filling with warm pride as Hayden reached out to play with toys. Astrid continued to tell Shiro how awful this was but she was still so strong and when her 10 minutes of tummy time was up, he immediately scooped her up, giving her soft kisses and murmuring about how strong she was and how proud he was to be her poppa before he got a whiff of her dirty diaper.
“Oh…that’s why you were crying! I’m so sorry babygirl! Daddy didn’t realize you had a poopy diaper!,” Astrid continued hiccuping, pleased to be held but upset about the squishy in the diaper. “Say ‘Bad Daddy! Not checking my diaper!’ Yeah, I know. I’m the worst. Let’s get you cleaned up. You good Hayden?” Hayden glanced over at the sound of her name and giggled, happy to once again be on her back with her favorite butterfly stuffed in her mouth. “Yeah, you’re good. Play safe while I change your sister’s diaper.” 
Baby Daddy™: just had successful tummy time. changed Astrid’s diaper. Hayden good
Baby Daddy™: lied, hayden let loose
Baby Daddy™: really let loose my god. Cleaned her up and changed clothes. All good
Baby Daddy™: no longer happy with play mat, put in stand-up bouncers with head support, both happy both bouncy
Baby Daddy™:
Baby Daddy™: Bottle time!
Baby Daddy™:
Baby Daddy™: they grow up so fast!
Baby Daddy™:
Baby Daddy™: Operation Nap Time a bust, play time resumed
Baby Daddy™: They like my singing. Unlike you. I feel appreciated here.
Baby Daddy™: more tummy time. gonna tire them out.
Baby Daddy™: got fussy, put both in the bouncy sleep things to try and rock them to sleep.
Baby Daddy™: still determined not to sleep, it’s all good. 
Baby Daddy™:
Baby Daddy™: angry babies but don’t worry, just fussy from not sleeping
You anxiously checked your phone again, the time on Shiro’s last text dated to two hours ago. You chewed your lip and shoved it back into your pocket. Allura’s voice was soothing as she pulled you into her arms, “He probably fell asleep darling. It’s all okay.”
You nodded and release the breath you were holding with a shaky sigh. You couldn’t wait to get home! But with snow on the road, it’s not like you could urge Lance to drive faster. No matter how much you wanted him to floor it.
It wasn’t that you had a bad time. In fact, you had a great time! You forgot how much fun it was to just relax with friends like there wasn’t a care in the world. But when Shiro stopped texting you, you felt your anxieties grow by the minute and now that your five hours were up, you couldn’t wait to hold your babies again.
After what seemed like hours, Lance finally pulled up to your house. “Here you are ma’am. Payment due is one more lunch date before the end of the week.” You smiled an leaned over the front seat to give Lance a kiss on the cheek, “Thanks for this Lancelot.” Lance flashed you a smile as you pulled back to hug and kiss Allura before exiting.
You felt like running to the door, but figured that would be rude to Lance and Allura. Like you were desperate to escape them rather than desperate to see your babies. 
At the door you turned and waved, smiling as they both blew you kisses before driving away. Once out of sight, you frantically unlocked the door and called out, “Honey! I’m home!’, into the hall.
But there was no answer and you swallowed the lump of anxiety in your throat as you struggled to pull off your snow boots off. “Shiro?”, you called, and still no answer.
You quietly tiptoed into the living room and were greeted with a sight that nearly turned you into a puddle of happy gooey feelings. Sitting on the floor, back against the couch was your husband. His hands were clasped, your babies snuggled against his sides in the crook of his elbows, all three had their mouths open in silent snores, little drops of drool working their way into Shiro’s shirt. Shiro was surrounded by toys, blankets, the bouncers, and bottles. The struggle he had in getting them to sleep apparent. 
You quickly snapped a picture and snuck your way out of the living room. After all, you couldn’t interrupt quality dad-time.
~*~If you enjoyed this or any of my other works please consider donating to my Ko-fi or Digital Tip Jar!~*~
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littledraga · 7 years
Text
Prompto Gets Adopted, Again.
Sitting at the desk in his room, Prompto was going through the photos he had saved onto his desktop. He had just finished emptying his memory card onto the machine and was sorting everything in folders to work with later, when ‘Kupo!’ chimed from his phone. Blinking once as he tried to process the sound, he grinned, grabbing up the device.
‘It’s not fair!’ A line of crying moogles accompanied the message. Smiling fondly and giving a small sigh, Prompto replied, ‘What’s not fair, Iris?’ and sent a chocobo with a red question mark next to its head, before turning back to his work.
It wasn’t long until the reply came, and the blond had the phone in his hand as the moogle chime finished sounding. He tilted the screen to view a picture of a moogle puffing out its cheeks, and a line of text came underneath as he laughed at the image.
‘I never get to do what I want.’ Prompto snorted, he couldn’t think of a single instance she had been denied anything. Even Ignis caved to her whims, he spoiled her more than he did Noctis. He debated about sending back an emoji with a cheesy grin, but decided against it, he didn’t want to upset her more.
‘Is Gladio trying to make you eat nothing but Cup Noodles again?’ Setting the phone down, Prompto looked back to his screen and sighed. Closing everything down, he set his camera to charging instead of moving files. Obviously, that wasn’t what he was doing today.
‘Kupo!’ His phone chimed again, and then three more times after that.
‘No!’ There was a moogle turning green, poor thing he thought.
‘I want to go to the mall, but dad and Gladdy said they’re both too busy to stay with me,’ another crying moogle. Then came a string of moogles, it looked like they were trying to throw a tantrum.
‘I’m 12, I’m old enough!’ Another string of moogles, and with steam coming out from their ears. Iris must be really angry. Chuckling slightly, Prompto flopped onto his bed, holding the phone at arm's length above his head as he tried to figure out how to reply.
By twelve Prompto was pretty much living alone, so going to the mall alone hardly seemed like a problem, but he knew his family life was, vastly different than Iris’. No one really knew about that other than Noctis, and he was not ready to have that conversation with anyone else yet, especially not Iris. He still felt bad for her though, being stuck at home alone was terrible. Looking out his open door to the empty hall, he sighed, he understood that one.
Grinning a little, but maybe, ‘Well will they let you on the bus if there’s someone there to meet you?’ It was a weekend, and he didn’t have to work or plans with Noctis, so there was no harm in walking around the mall with Iris. It couldn’t be that bad, he hoped.
Instead of a moogle announcing Iris had sent him a text, it rang with the sound of a heavy rock group Gladiolus was fond of. With a sigh, Prompto slid the screen to take the call and placing it to his ear. Before he had a chance to say hello, Gladiolus cut him off.
“Are you serious?” Great Prompto thought, Gladiolus was going to tell him he wasn’t enough to watch his sister. Gladiolus was a very protective older brother, but sometimes he seemed a little overbearing.
“Yes? I mean I’d pick her up, but it’s not like I have a car or a license yet.” There was a pause on the other end of the phone, then a small huff of laughter.
“You want to follow my twelve-year-old sister around the mall?” Gladiolus asked, amusement in his voice. Prompto shrugged, not that his friend could see it, “It can’t be that bad; keep her inside, tell her she looks cuter than a chocobo and try not to stand too close to the boy band posters so you don’t get trampled. Right?”
Laughter erupted from the phone and Prompto had to pull it away from his ear a little at the sudden sound. As Gladiolus laughed, he huffed out, “Fine, I was just trying to be nice to Iris. Being home alone sucks.” As he lifted the phone, he heard the other calling him to wait.
Staying silent, Prompto put the phone back to his ear, waiting for Gladiolus. The silence stretched and Prompto wondered if he had hung up on the man by mistake. Before he could check there came a sigh.
“Thanks, Prompto. I’d appreciate you taking care of Iris. If you meet her at the mall, I’ll pick you both up after I’m done. I’ll make sure to give her some extra spending money for dinner. Make sure she actually eats dinner, not just a bunch of snacks.” Grinning Prompto lifted his legs off the bed, using the momentum of dropping them to sit up.
“No problem, big guy! Iris is safe with me,” standing quickly as he spoke, he promptly toppled over, dropping the phone. Chuckling, Prompto pawed at his phone, “S’okay, totally meant to do that.” On the other end of the line, Gladiolus sighed and shook his head with a fond smile. Everything would be alright, he could trust Prompto, and it was better than leaving her alone again.
Sitting on the covered bench of the mall's bus stop, Prompto’s foot shook uncontrollably. Checking the time on his phone, and comparing it to the estimated arrival of the bus Iris should be on, it was becoming almost impossible not to panic. Buses were late all the time, that was hardly anything in itself, but twenty minutes late was a lot. He thought about sending Iris another text, just to make sure she was alright, but he had sent her one when he got there. A picture of him holding his camera up to his face with a caption; ‘Camera ready, now we just need a model’. Iris had sent back her own selfie from her seat on the bus with the text; ‘Anything for my fans’.
With a sigh, he opened up his messages, resigning himself to look creepy, when the sound of a distant engine caught his ear. Jumping to his feet, Prompto leaned out and saw the bus coming into view as it turned the corner. As it came to a stop in front of him, Prompto grinned and moved to stand in front of the doors. They had scarcely opened before he had his arms full of a laughing Iris as she hugged him.
“Good to see you too, Iris,” he laughed out before picking her up and spinning her around once. Feet off the ground she squealed and giggled as she felt the world spin around her. Once Iris was back on the ground and settled, Prompto offered his arm, with a grin.
“Shall we see how much trouble we can get into before Gladio comes?” Asked Prompto as she took his arm, and they headed inside. Entering through the food court, the sound of life hit them hard. There were only a few open tables in the room, and the sound felt deafening in his ears. Luckily before he could embarrass himself, Iris was pulling him away from the crowd and down the corridors, and into the quiet.
Trying to hide his sigh of relief, Prompto grinned, looking at the stores around him. Clothing stores mostly, he should have figured. Feeling for his camera, he let himself be guided into the first store, full of bright coloured clothing and accessories. Letting go of his arm, Iris started looking through the racks, trying to find the cutest outfit, Prompto guessed. Not that Prompto was particularly fashionable, he still took the racks hoping to find something Iris would like.
“Ah ha!” Taking a dress off the rack he turned to show Iris. A navy blue t-shirt dress with a moogle dancing on the front.
“I know you like moogles, but maybe it’s a little silly, but,” as he spoke Prompto turned the dress around exposing a large hood hanging down the back, “How cool is this?” Jumping in excitement, Iris grabbed the dress holding it up to her torso, and frown, “Too big! It looks like it could fit Gladdy!” Chuckling, Prompto took the dress and turned back around. Digging through the sizes he dug out one smaller, holding it under her chin for approval.
“That one’s smaller, should we grab another size and see which fits?” Nodding Iris snatched the dress from Prompto and added it to her rather impressive pile on her arm before running off to the dressing rooms. Laughing again, Prompto grabbed another size before following after his friend.
Sitting on a large cushion they had set up by the fitting rooms, Prompto adjusted his camera as he waiting for her to show him her first outfit. It wasn’t long until she danced out from behind the curtain, spinning on her toes to show off a pink skirt and white and pink striped blouse.
“Ta da,” she sang, posing with one hand on her hip and the other a peace sign over her right eye. Grinning, Prompto lifted his camera and snapped a picture, “Lookin’ good, Iris.” Fluffing the skirt, Iris gave another spin as Prompto took more pictures before rushing back behind the curtain, giggling. That became the routine for the next hour until she popped her head out announcing her last outfit.
“Last but not least,” she announced still hidden from view, “The cutest outfit of the day!” Cheering, Prompto clapped his hands as she made her grand appearance, in the blue moogle dress he had picked. Giggling she struck a goofy pose, making a face and sticking out her tongue as Prompto grabbed his camera.  As she turned to go change again, Prompto jumped to his feet, grabbing her arm and spinning her back to face him.
“Hold on, I’ve got an idea.” Grinning, he reached behind Iris and pulled up the over sized hood over until it hung over her face. Taking a fast picture of Iris’ mouth partially open in confusion he stepped back, “Now say moogle,” he sang as he took another.
Giggling, Iris brought both hands up and held them like paws under her chin. Taking another picture, Prompto quickly moved to stand beside Iris, leaning down so he was level with her. Pressing his cheek against her’s, he held the camera above them, snapping a picture of them laughing together.
The hood of the moogle dress pushed up and away from her face. She had declared it was her new favorite dress and she couldn’t bear to take it off yet. Looking through his view finder, the two looked at the photos of Iris. Arms wrapped around Prompto’s, Iris leaned against him as she gushed about his photos.
“I wish I looked as good as I do in your pictures,” Iris mused quietly. Prompto stopped walking, and looked down at Iris, “My camera just takes pictures, Iris. You do look that good, I didn’t even use filters.” Showing her the settings on his phone, he proved nothing had been added to his pictures.
“See? Cuter than a chocobo.” Iris blushed and hid her face in his arm, mumbling, “You’re just saying that because you’re Gladdy’s friend.” Prompto felt his heart break, he knew that feeling. Giving his arm a wiggle, he made Iris look up at him. Smiling his softest smile, he shook his head, wrapping an arm around her in a lazy hug.
“I’m saying that because you are. Your brother may be why I know you, but not why you’re my friend.” Giving her a small squeeze, he smiled wider when she nodded and smiled up at him. That was better, she deserved to be happy.
“Now, where to next?” Looking around he saw a small shop tucked under the stairs, and inside was full of charms and bobbles.
“How about that one? I bet they’ve got all kinds of neat stuff.” Nodding his head in the direction, Iris followed and squealed in delight at all the cute things in the window. Running ahead, she nearly dragged Prompto along as he jogged behind her, laughing as they moved.
The store was wall to wall tiny and cute. There were phone charms and cases, bracelets and necklace charms, and every kind of cute thing Prompto had ever seen and had never seen. Eyeing a chocobo phone case, he pulled out his own, seeing if it would fit when he felt a tap on his shoulder. Turning, he put the case back, too small, and looked at a grinning Iris with both hands behind her back.
“Pick a hand,” she giggled and wiggled where she stood. Prompto knew trouble was soon to follow, but he quickly resigned himself to his fate and raised his left hand, pointing at her right. Before he could say anything, she grabbed his hand and clasped something over it. Lifting his hand to his face, he saw a small chocobo hanging from a woven bracelet. Looking to Iris, she held up her own wrist, exposing her own, but her bracelet had a moogle.
“You’re favorite and mine! Better than matching friendship bracelets right?” Prompto hummed before he nodded with a smile, “Best friendship bracelet ever,” he announced. Going to the counter to pay, Prompto insisted on paying for Iris’, “Because you’re supposed to, right?”
Iris was spinning in the corridor, looking at the bracelet. Grabbing onto Prompto she spun him around with her, “Best day at the mall ever!” Prompto laughed as he was spun around and agreed with her. Grabbing his hand, Iris started walking again, searching for another store to look into.
“Thanks for coming with me today.”
“Of course,” Prompto replied, chuckling quietly as Iris swung their hands in the air, “being stuck home alone sucks.” Iris looked up at him then, “You were home alone too?” Internally he winced, but he simply nodded.
“Yeah, parents are still at work. So you saved me too.” Iris smiled, and he was grateful that seemed to be the end of that.
“Does it get lonely?” He blinked and waited for her to clarify.
“I mean being an only child. When dad’s busy a lot of the time I have Gladdy, so it’s not so bad. Do you ever wish your parents had another kid?” Laughing, Prompto shrugged his shoulders.
“I mean my parents can’t have kids, that’s how I ended up with them.” Looking at Iris’ confused face, Prompto remembered he had never actually told anyone he was adopted. Feeling a bit sheepish, he blushed before explaining, “I’m adopted, they weren’t able to have kids on their own.” As understanding bloomed on Iris' face he smiled.
“But I guess it would have been nice if they adopted someone else too,” nudging her slightly he grinned, “Maybe a little sister would have been nice. But I have Noctis, Gladiolus, Ignis, and of course, I have you, so it’s not so lonely anymore.”
“Can I adopt you, too?” Iris’ question caught him off guard and he stared at her, head tilted slightly to the side. Moving to stand in front of him, she brought both hands up to her chest as she explained, “I wanna adopt you as my other brother! So then you have a little sister!”
Prompto took a few seconds to process what she had said, but then his face broke into the largest grin he could, nodding.
“I’d like that. Though,” his grin turned into a mischievous smirk, “Gladio might not like having the competition.” Giggling, Iris grabbed his hand and pulled him along again.
“That’s okay, I’ll love you both! Now let’s go get some ice cream to celebrate!” Following along with Iris, he chuckled and let himself be lead again.
“Well, Gladio made me promise you’d have dinner and not just snacks, but” leaning forward a little he mock whispered, “As your other big brother I think it’s okay if we have dessert first.”
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topimagines · 7 years
Text
The Uries- Brendon and Sarah Urie (poly)
“Go I’ll be fine. God sometimes I feel like you guys think I have to be watched.” you said pushing Brendon and Sarah out the door.
“You sure, you can come with us if you want.” Sarah offered.
“No, it’s your anniversary, go enjoy yourselves. I’ll be here when you get back.” you said.
“Okay, fine, if you insist. Love you babe.” Brendon said kissing you.
“Love you too. Now go before I lock you out.” you said and they both laughed and walked to the car.
It was Brendon and Sarah’s 4 year wedding anniversary and they felt bad leaving you at home. Being in a polyamorous relationship with them was the best thing you could ever ask for. You were friends with Sarah for years and when she met Brendon and married him you were in a relationship with an abusive boyfriend. One night after a huge fight you called Sarah and Brendon showed up to get you because she was out of town.
On the ride back to their place Brendon was really comforting. You had always had a crush on him and Sarah knew it. Long story short you ended up staying with them for the next 2 months. One night you were all hanging out and they brought the idea of you joining the relationship. At first you were shocked but they told you how much they liked you and now 2 years later you’re happily in love.
You plopped down on the couch and Penny and Bogart joined you. This was the first time all day you were alone and you had some emotions building up inside you. All day people were wishing Brendon and Sarah a happy anniversary. That wasn’t the thing that was bothering you, it was the people who were being mean to you.
You saw that two of the trending hashtags were #brendon&sarahgoals and #Y/Ndoesn’tdeservethem on twitter.
The scrolled through and saw that the #brendon&sarahgoals was filled with pictures of them and really sweet tweets from the fans.
Earlier that day you posted a picture on instagram of Brendon and Sarah at their wedding with you as Sarah’s maid of honor. You captioned it with a sweet ‘Hope you have a great anniversary my loves.’
People commented mostly nice things except for the few who said things like ‘when you ruin a perfectly good relationship’ or ‘find your own man.’
You started to scroll throught the #Y/Ndoesn’tdeservethem and started to regret it.
‘Seriously he had something so good and Y/N had to ruin it.’
‘Two beuties and a beast. Guess who the beast is, Y/N. Get someone for yourself.’
‘How slutty do you have to be to need two people. Like she doesn’t deserve them.’
They got worse and worse until you felt a tear stream down your face. You kept torturing yourself by reading all their tweets.
‘They’re right, Brendon and Sarah are so attractive when I’m so ugly’ you told yourself.
It only felt like 20 minutes passed, but when you heard a car pull up and you looked at the time and it had been 4 hours. You were a mess, tears running down your face and stained sleeves from where you wiped away you makeup.
You heard the front door open and knew it was too late to hid away. You laid in the couch, hid your face, and tried as hard as you could to calm down you shaking body from the cry. You faced the inside of the couch and shut your eyes and pretended to sleep.
‘Maybe they won’t even notice.’ you hoped.
You felt the couch move a little and Brendon’s hand and came in contact with your unsteady body.
“Hey there gorgeous.” he said softly “what’s wrong?”
You turned over and he saw your face was all red from crying. You just looked past him and suddenly Sarah came into the room.
“Hey, Y/N what happened?” she asked voice filled with concern.
That’s when the gates of your tears let go. You let them fall down your face as you sat up. Brendon pulled you into his lap and rocked you slowly trying to calm you down. Sarah sat of the side of Brendon and took one of your hands in her’s.
When you finally calmed you asked or your phone and Sarah handed it to you.
You opened twitter and refreshed the #Y/Ndoesn’tdeservethem page.
“Look at Y/N, it’s like playing where’s waldo and always being able to find her.” you said voice shaking and both Brendon and Sarah asked.
You scrolled again.
“Y/N obviously doesn’t see that she’s ruining that relationship. Wouldn’t Brendon propose by now if he actually loved her.” another tear fell from your eyes.
“Y/N stop.”Sarah said reaching to take your phone. You pulled it from her reach and read another one.
“Oh this is my favorite one by far. When will they realized she’s no good. She’s pretty, but Sarah is so hot. Y/N’s not even funny. Brendon you had so much but lost some of it when you let that pig into the relationship” you said barely able to speak at this point.
“Y/N none of this is true.” Brendon said taking your phone and tossing it to the chair across the room.
You went to get out of Brendon’s hold, but her held you tighter.
“We love you so much, even when you think we don’t. You’re so caring and fucking hilarious. They don’t know you like we know you.” Brendon said rubbing your back soothingly.
“Y/N don’t tell me you believe any of these are true. You’re so beautiful, you’re a great person, and my best friend. No matter what I love you.” Sarah said.
Once you finally calmed down you looked down at the floor.
“Sorry for ruining your anniversary.” you said softly.
“No, no Y/N you didn’t ruin it.” Sarah said quickly.
“Babe, we came home early so we could see you. We missed you and it was boring without you there to make us laugh.” Brendon said kissing the top of your head.
“Let’s go to bed.” Sarah suggested offering you a hand and pulling you up to your feet.
“I’ll meet you guys in there, I have something to take care of.” Brendon said standing from the couch and handing you back your phone.
You headed to the room and washed your face off in the bathroom. You felt Brendon wrap himself around you.
“You’re beautiful, you know that right?”
“I’ve been told a few times.” you said turning around to kiss him.
He pulled away from you and smiled. He dropped to one knee infront of you and pulled something out of his pocket.
“Y/N, I love you, actually we love you.” he said gesturing to where Sarah was standing in the doorway smiling like crazy. “We wanted to make this day not just about you, but about you too. So from now on as we grow old, me and Sarah’s wedding anniversary will also be marked as the day I proposed to you. All you have to do is say yes, so Y/N Y/L/N will you marry me?”
You shook your head yes and a tear fell for your eye. This time is was a tear of Joy.
Brendon stood and slipped the ring on your finger before wrapping you in a tight hug.
“Sarah did you get a picture?” Brendon asked letting you go from his hug.
“Yup, you both look great in it.” she smiled.
“Good. now both of you get some sleep, we’re celebrating tomorrow. I’ll join you in a few minutes.” he said and both you and Sarah headed to the bed.
“Welcome to the Urie world Y/N. I’m glad we’ll be sharing a last name together.” she said kissing you on a the cheek.
Laying down on your side of the bed you covered yourself in the warm blankets. You were just getting comfortable when your phone dinged. You reached for it and saw that Brendon had posted a picture on instagram.
You opened your phone and saw the picture was a selfie of Sarah and him at the jewelry store holding the ring smiling excitedly. You swiped to the left to the second picture which was of you standing in the bathroom and Brendon down on one knee. You smiled at the pictures then read the caption he wrote
‘2 weeks ago me and Sarah search high and low for a perfect ring for a perfect woman. We found the one and for 2 weeks we had to keep this secret from Y/N, which was one of the hardest things to do. Today 4 years ago I married the love of my life Sarah and today I got to propose to the other love of my life. Sarah and I are so excited to make Y/N officially a Urie. Love you two to the moon and back twice. Welcome to the Urie train Y/N, love you beautiful.’
You looked up from your phone with tears in your eyes and saw that both Sarah and Brendon were laying next to you in bed. You put your phone back on the charger and laid into Brendon’s side.
“I love you guys so much. Thank you for everything, I mean it from the bottom of my heart, I love you.” you said kissing each of the.
“Love you too.” Sarah said sleepily.
“I love you Y/N, now sleep, it’s been an emotional night. Just know I’ll always be there for you.”
You laid back down and closed your eyes.
“Wouldn’t doubt that ever.” you said and fell asleep.
Although people didn’t really like you or the idea of Brendon being with two women, you loved both of them. You couldn’t wait to see what the future was for the three of you.
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yoonseokaf-blog · 8 years
Text
BTS Reaction to What He Loves Most About You
Seokjin:
Your kindness.  It was an attribute he immediately saw from you and clung to because may I may was it beautiful.  When you helped a stranger by picking up something they had dropped.  When you smiled as you walked past people because you always thought that a simple smile could help someone’s say, Seokjin’s love for you grew stronger.  There was no evidence in the world that could explain Seokjin’s bright smile other than you, your kindness.  In fact, Seokjin sought to be a better person as well, to match your level of kindness.
It was your wedding when you learned of this knowledge.  It plagued his vow to you.  “Jagiya, your kindness is what makes my amazing life perfect.  I do not seek for you to remain kind every day and I know you may be irritated and snap at me, but none of it matters.  I love you solely, and your smile towards everyone, your gentle hands, and caring nature.  I may ramble on about you for hours, but I will cut it here, because it is hard to describe love in words besides painful and magical and worth it because if this is the end game, then I have years of happiness to ensue.
Yoongi:
Your passion was a driving factor in your life.  His passion was one in his.  It may have been difficult when the other wanted attention, but it was all worth it.  He loved hearing you speak about your passions.  How excited you’d get.  You would start to talk faster and stumble over your words, but your smile never left your face and his never did either.  Hearing you ramble on about things you loved was something he could do all day and something he definitely looked to when he was stuck on song lyrics or having a bad day.
It was all written down in a song.  One that very member had hear, one that his parents, brother, and manager had listened to.  Now, it was you turn.  He took you into his studio, a place you had been into many times and sat you down in the small chair he bought when your visits became frequent.  “Uh, just listen okay?”  You nodded as he handed you his bulky, expensive headphones.  You slipped them on and gave Yoongi a thumbs up when you were ready.  Within seconds, a best began playing that captivated you fully.  It reminded you of all the songs you loved combined into one.  Once done, you had a new understanding of Yoongi’s love for you.
Hoseok:
Your smile, or more simply your happiness.  Seeing you smile over anything, animals, a joke, a kind action, made him happy.  Your glowing smile radiated over everything else and to Hoseok, was a gift to nature.  Hoseok would always be cracking jokes and giving you little gifts in order to see your bright grin and hear infectious laugh.  The way your eyes got smaller and cute wrinkles would appear was something Hoseok loved.  He could stare at your smile all day, every day, and he has.  Photos cluttered his gallery of you smiling.
Hoseok woke up to the buzzing of his phone in his hand.  He had fallen asleep the night previous in his hotel room with him phone, texting you.  When he woke up,  the time read noon and he looked up to see Taehyung and Jimin getting ready.  He unlocked his phone to see a text from you.   It was a selfie of you smiling with a cute shirt on that had your favorite anime on it.  Your caption read “Woke up to a shipped gift from my boyfriend who is in Japan, how lucky~ <3”  Your grin was so large and made Hoseok smile back.  Totally worth it.
Namjoon:
There was no personality trait that Namjoon loved most about you.  However, Namjoon loved greatly how easily he could talk to you.  From the moment he met you, conversations came easily.  He knew that he could talk to you for hours and about everything, anything, and nothing.  Hearing you voice in real life was the best, it was warm and comforting.  Hearing your voice over the phone couldn’t hold a candle to the beauty of your voice in real life, but it was still wonderful and sufficed for when he couldn’t go see you.  Overall, Namjoon loved talking to you and hearing your voice.
It was late at night when Namjoon finally got back from his studio.  When he walked into your home, he could hear you in the kitchen.  He walked into the kitchen and hugged you from behind.  “Welcome home, sweetie” You spoke.  Namjoon hummed a response.  “I’m making us hot chocolate.”  Namjoon kissed your cheek, tiredness evident.  When done, the both of you made your way to the couch and cuddled under the blanket that was already there.  You moved to turn on a movie, but Namjoon stopped you.  ‘Let’s just talk, okay?”  He asked and you obliged, gladly talking him to sleep.
Jimin:
Jimin loves how you make him feel better about himself.  It seems almost like magic how you can encourage him so greatly.  Your words of kindness and encouragement are amazing and always want make him work harder and makes him feel better.  Jimin has hidden insecurities, but he feels so accepted by you, looks now meaning nothing because you didn’t care about them.  Jimin’s height, muscles, and large cheeks meant nothing because you didn’t care about them.  Jimin knew that he could always come to you if he was ever feeling bad because you were always there for him.
It was late at night already when Jimin told you he would be spending the night in the dance studio and when you asked him why he responded with “Because I need to get better.”  Quickly, you packed up snacks and healthy food.  You grabbed blankets and anything else before making your way to the dance studio.  There you were met with Jimin doing crunches and sweating incredibly.  You pulled him into a wet hug and told him, “You’re already perfect, but if you insist on staying here, I will be with you to make you eat and sleep well.”  You then sat there and talked with him about why he felt the need to be better.
Taehyung:
Taehyung loved your warmth.  Your personality, looks, and actual temperature was always warm and comforting and Taehyung loved it so much.  He loved knowing that you would be there when he got home.  He loved knowing that he would be able to cuddle up to you after the long day.  It felt wonderful to have a caring person next to him, someone who was there for him, his number one fan.  No blankets, hot chocolate or fire places could beat you in his arms, there for him.  It was a pro when it came to your relationship that Taehyung could no longer do without.
It was when he came home from a long night that he realized how goddamn much he wanted to see you.  And yet, the house was quiet and all the lights were off and he knew that you must have already gone to bed.  Taehyung made his way to your shared bedroom, shedding his jacket and bag.  He quietly opened the door to see you resting.  He put his things to the side and changed into something less smelly.  He crawled into bed and immediately smiled.  You were so warm and he fell asleep within minutes, fully aware that you meant the world to him.  
Jungkook:
Your humor.  Jungkook is the type of person to push himself in every way.  However, it is your humor and laugh that brings him back down to Earth.  It is you who helps him to know that you need to have fun every now and then or else you will tear yourself down.  He knows full well that you were the person who keeps him grounded so when you joke around it reminds him of how much you help him.  You seem to have everything figured out and your humor is the thing about you that makes Jungkook think so clearly that you are perfect in every way and much too good for him.
Jungkook had a concert today.  A big concert.  And he was beating himself up about doing well.  He was running through the performance in his head over and over.  He refrained from speaking to save his voice, but still went of the lyrics in his head to make sure he wouldn’t mess up.  And yet, you were sending him memes.  Stupid memes that he shouldn’t be laughing or looking at, but he was.   You were distracting him.  He should turn off his phone.  But he didn’t.  And he did great at the two songs they performed for the world.  And he knew full well that it was because you distracted him from his nerves.  And he knew that he was thankful.
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jackswimmermann · 8 years
Text
You Know I Was Down For You...Chap. 2
Fandom: Check, Please! Pairing: Adam “Holster” Birkholtz/Justin “Ransom” Oluransi Rating: T Note: This might be my favorite chapter :’^)
When she finally reached center ice, Lardo kneeled in-between Justin and Holster. The three shared a look before bending down together. Justin kept his eyes closed, letting the cold wash over him. For just a moment time felt at a stand-still. He wasn’t sure about life flashing before your eyes right before death but it felt as if it was passing over him just then. There were so many memories ingrained into this ice, so many friendships forged because of it.
AO3: x 
[1][Chapter 3][4]
Hours later, Justin was still awake. Holster fell asleep first and curled himself around Justin, resting his head against Justin’s chest. Justin had been absentmindedly running his fingers through Holster’s overgrown hair and staring at the bottom of the top bunk, where he should be, ever since.
Justin had been ecstatic for Holster, of course he was. And Holster’s tidbit about the distance had calmed a lot of the immediate anxieties that popped up whenever he thought too deeply about the future. But something…something didn’t feel right. Holster was his best friend and somehow Justin didn’t know he had been trying to decide on a NHL Team this whole time? He wanted to be mad at Holster for keeping this huge-fucking-deal a secret from him but instead he just felt wrong. It wasn’t quite guilt but it wasn’t quite not-guilt. “I wanted you to make your decision first, about med school, before worrying about anything else. This has been your dream Rans.” He couldn’t seem to stop hearing Holster’s words bounce around in his head. Even after they had settled back down to watch whatever show Holster had fixated on that month, it was a mantra in his head. He closed his eyes and Holster’s lists came back in perfect clarity, the distance between the team’s home city and each of Justin’s Top Five listed at the top of the page, before anything else, outside of a column altogether. His brain wouldn’t even let him dwell on all that that could mean. It was too much to work through on his own, all at once. However, halfway through another episode Justin couldn’t keep quiet about all of it. “When did you first get approached by a scout, Holtzy?” “Huh? The first time? I think it was right after our first game of the year, technically. Nothing was official then though.” The first game. Nearly their entire senior year Holster had this secret, this decision weighing on him, and somehow Justin had no idea. Justin wanted to uncurl himself from around Holster and try to put the pieces together but every time he shifted Holster wrapped himself tighter around him. Justin wasn’t sure if he should take quite so much comfort in it. “You’re thinking too much.” Justin froze as the slurred words broke through the silence of the attic. Holster looked asleep; eyes closed, cheeks flushed slightly from the warmth of the room, limbs secure around Justin’s torso. “Relax Rans, we’ll figure it out together.” Justin closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths, still not sure if Holster was actually awake or just so in-tune to Justin that he knew when he needed comfort, even while asleep. It wasn’t quite guilt but it wasn’t quite not-guilt. _X_
March was lying upside down on her bed, studying Justin like he was an alien species yet to be identified. “I’m flattered, of course, that you’re telling me about what’s been going on but this really seems like more of a team-topic.” March hummed to herself. “Well I guess this actually feels more like a Holster-topic.” “Exactly! That’s the problem!” Justin threw his hands in the air, defeated. Despite promising each other they would talk about what everything meant for them and the future, things got busy as senior years tend to do and now Holster was out of town. In Providence. Sighing, March rolled over. She leveled Justin with a serious look, making sure he was paying attention to her. “Justin, that boy is more in love with you than I am. Not that that’s a bad thing, your friendship is beautiful, but it’s not very surprising that he made you a priority. The two of you are connected in a way that is very, very rare.” When Justin opened his mouth to argue, March silenced him with a single look. “Holster was with you for our first three dates, Justin. Three of them. Without April. Or any other girl for that matter.” Justin stood up from the chair and laid down on the bed beside her, his expression still conflicted. March continued, regardless. “You’re upset because Holster didn’t tell you what was going on but he probably thought he was doing the right thing. It’s not as if Holster wanting to put you first is a new development in your relationship, hun.” Justin had been on his back, staring at the ceiling but he finally turned to look at her once again. “He said he wanted me to decide before anything else because this was my dream.” Justin muttered. March nodded as if she had expected as much. “I didn’t even know my best friend was considering NHL. I didn’t even know about Holster’s dream.” “Did Holster?” _X_ The first thing Justin did when he returned from March’s was check the 20 some snapchats he had gotten from Holster. Some of the snaps were just of the city, or selfies of Holster with various statues and buildings he thought Justin would appreciate. He took a screenshot of two of them. Then there was the team. Justin knew of the players from (a) being an avid hockey fan, (b) Jack, and (c) Bitty and he knew Holster did too but it was bizarre to see it all through the shaky camera work of his best friend. Justin couldn’t even fully appreciate the awkward close up of Mashkov Holster had secured for him because he was still trying to wrap his head around seeing his best friend interacting with a NHL team, a team he would most likely be joining in a few months. He took a screenshot of it anyways. The next snap was obviously taken on the move, possibly of the floor. The caption read: Got to skate with Jack and the other Falconers!!!!1!!1! Justin smiled at the unbridled enthusiasm Holster had managed to portray in a single, hastily taken snap. The last snap, sent just over twenty minutes ago, was simply of a sign. Outside a realtor’s office. Justin put his phone face down on the bed. He really hoped Bitty had some pie around. A chorus of “hellos” from the frogs greeted Justin when he entered the kitchen. Sure enough, a fresh baked pie sat out on the kitchen table. Cooled down enough to eat but still warm. Dex and Chowder were sitting at the table, and both had a piece of pie on a paper plate. Nursey was both pie and plate free but based on the smug look on his face and the disgruntled one on Dex’s he had just swiped some pie for himself regardless. Bitty was at the sink washing dishes, shaking his head at the frogs’ antics. Slicing a piece for himself Justin leaned against the counter, letting the frogs get back to whatever it was they had been discussing beforehand. If he had to guess it was a movie or a television show of some kind but a lot of the terminology was unfamiliar to him. Bitty caught his eye and shrugged. Alright, well let the frogs have their odd shared interests. It kept them all on friendly terms. When the conversation finally drifted into more familiar territory he chimed in, as did Bitty, when he was paying attention. But something was off with the frogs, who kept giving him looks similar to the ones he got from March earlier. “Is something on my face?” He finally addressed the issue head-on. Something he had, admittedly, been having trouble with otherwise. The three frogs all looked a bit sheepish. “Sorry Ransom it’s just…well it’s still odd to see you without Holster. We know he’s only gone for the weekend but it doesn’t seem quite right. Like he should be returning from the bathroom in a minute or something.” Leave it to Chowder. Justin exhaled heavily through his nose, hoping he didn’t come off sounding short. He knew they didn’t mean anything by it but the truth. Ransom & Holster weren’t often apart. “Yeah, it is but hey, he’s only gone until tomorrow night. Everything will be back to normal before you know it.” Justin elected to ignore the concerned gaze he felt trailing him as he retreated back to the attic. Justin hadn’t been back upstairs all of twenty minutes when he got a Skype call from Holster. For a brief moment his anxiety and conflicting feelings gave way to simple joy because, despite how off he had been feeling about everything relating to Holster, Chowder was right. It was odd to be without Holster for so long. He accepted the call and Holster’s face filled his screen. The angle was odd, and Justin assumed the call had been made from Holster’s phone rather than his computer. A towel was draped around Holster’s neck and his hair was wet, sticking to his pinkened skin in small curls. Holster said something to someone off camera before promptly dropping onto a bed. Once settled he adjusted the phone over his head and grinned up at Justin. “Having fun, Holtzy?” “It's crazy, Rans! And so much fun. The team is great.” Holster sighed dreamily and Justin tried not to laugh. “I get the feeling Jack pulled some strings to get me here but I don't care, I'll take it.” “How is Jack doing?” Holster had a curious look on his face, one Justin couldn't quite place. “He's great honestly. I mean he's still the crazy hockey robot we know and love of course, but he's genuinely happy.” Holster paused, before lowering his voice, not that it did much to actually lessen his volume. Holster was just a loud person, there was no getting around that. “Do you remember when Tater made that joke about Jack having a girlfriend in that Falconer video we watched with Bits?” Justin’s brow furrowed. “Yeah? So what?” “Tater wasn't the only one to joke about it today. The entire team seemed to be in on it. And honestly half of it didn't even seem like chirps but actual questions about his life and his girlfriend.” “Well even Shitty thought Jack was dating someone when he came back for the kegster.” Justin reminded him. “Yeah but Jack straight up denied having a girlfriend when Shitty asked. He just laughed it off when the team asked about a girl today.” Before Justin could come up with a reply to that, there was a knock on the door. Holster sat up on the bed when the door opened, turning his phone as he did. Justin watched Jack peek in. “Hey Holster-oh, hi Ransom.” Jack nodded towards the phone. Justin waved back. “I was about to start dinner. Did you want to eat here or were you still planning to check out those places Marty mentioned?” Justin heard Holster exhale loudly. “Actually I'm way more wiped than I thought I would be. Dinner here would be great. Do you need help with anything?” Jack shook his head. “No don't worry about it. I'll let you know when it's done.” Jack nodded towards Justin again. “See you Ransom, tell everyone ‘hi’ from me.” “Will do.” Justin and Holster chimed back as Jack shut the door. Holster rolled over to lay on his stomach this time, propping his phone up on a pillow. Justin waited until Holster was settled before he leveled him with a look. “Alright so come on Holtzy, enough with the gossip. I want to know everything.” Holster talked for nearly an hour, only stopping when Jack finally summoned him for dinner. And even then Justin had to interrupt a tangent to remind Holster to go eat. Holster finally said goodbye with a cheeky smile, blowing a kiss to the camera as he signed off. Justin fell asleep that night more relaxed than he had been in well over two weeks. He was going to Harvard. Holster was going to be a Falconer, only 53.6 miles away from him. Justin was still Ransom, and Holster was still Holster. Even if Holster had kept this big life decision a secret from him in the beginning he obviously felt no need to keep anything else a secret from him. They were going to be okay, whatever happened, Ransom & Holster were going to be okay. Justin fell asleep that night in Holster’s bed. _X_ Holster and Justin managed to keep the details of their after-Samwell-plans under wraps until a little over a week before graduation. They gathered the team in the living room when they were ready for the big reveal. Bitty and Lardo were the only ones who seemed to have any idea of what might be going on. Justin had a feeling Bitty only knew something was going on because of Jack, though he had been getting really good at reading the team. Justin chalked Lardo’s knowledge up to her just being Lardo. There wasn't much the boys could get past her. The team would be hard-pressed to find another manager as great as Lardo. Still the team gathered without question, or at least very little question. Justin and Holster stood before them, preparing to make the announcement. They had discussed at length how to tell the team. Holster had even suggested a PowerPoint, numerous times, but Justin had worried that would drag out the explanation. Holster made one anyways, but it was a back-up plan. If someone asked for details. “So we realize you all may be wondering why we gathered you here today,” Holster started the speech with his best “Captain voice.” “You're finally going to tell us the big secret of your after-Samwell plans?” Nursey guessed. Lardo laughed from her position, sprawled across Nursey and Chowder’s laps. Alright so they may have underestimated all who knew what was happening. “Why did you keep it a secret for so long?” Tango asked. Holster pushed on as if no one had spoken. “It is time for the big reveal! Samwell Men’s Hockey Team’s own Justin ‘Ransom’ Oluransi, voted number three in Samwell’s 50 Most Beautiful,” A chorus of “boos” interrupted Holster. “Should have been number one!” Holster pointed to Nursey after the outburst. “Thank you, I absolutely agree. Fuck the LAX team.” Justin, and at least most of the team, knew only one LAX team member had made the list over him. Regardless, everyone echoed back faithfully: “Fuck the LAX team.” “Justin Oluransi, number three at Samwell and number one, in our hearts, will be continuing his riveting college education at, drumroll please,” Ollie and Wicks provided their best attempt on the back of the couch. “Harvard Medical School!” A chorus of cheers rang out and the team clamored around Justin with congratulatory hugs and slaps on the back. Harvard was his dream and it was mind-blowing to think in a few short months he would get the chance to pursue medicine there, but having so many people support him wholeheartedly was just as amazing. Justin waited until the team had settled down again before he cleared his throat for his announcement. “And for the resident blond, singing giant, your favorite co-captain, it's okay I know, our own Adam ‘Holster’ Birkholtz,” Ollie and Wicks provided a drum roll again. “Samwell Men’s Hockey Team say hello to the newest Providence Falconer.” A deafening silence fell over the room while the team stared up at them. For a moment, no one moved. “What-” “Are you serious?” “You ass!” Lardo was the first to finally move, hopping off the couch and slugging Holster’s arm. “I can't believe you didn't tell us you were considering NHL! What is wrong with you?” Lardo’s actions seemed to stir everyone else back to life and soon enough the Haus was once again filled with a chorus of cheers and congratulations. _X_ “This still feels sort of weird.” Justin admitted, lying beside March in her bed. “We had a good thing going, I feel like there should be something a little more special for a last hurrah.” March smiled. “I promise you that was very special.” Justin snorted. “I’m glad, but that’s not what I meant.” March propped herself up on one arm, resting her head on her hand. “I know, but where would we have found the time? Tomorrow is your last night at Faber with the team and then…” “Graduation.” Justin finished the thought for her. She was right of course. They had agreed months ago their relationship wasn’t going to continue past graduation and that now loomed days away. Justin sighed. “It just feels like we should honor this with something. March, I do really like you-” “And I, you. And at another time in another place this might be a good idea but you’re off to Boston and April and I are both headed for San Fran.” March leaned down for a kiss, setting a slow and sensual tempo, not unlike the one they had going only moments before. Breaking the kiss March smiled down at him, the same sly smile she had shared the first time they slept together. Realization poured over Justin like ice. It was Holster’s smile. Not exactly but similar enough, with the same quirks around the corner of her mouth, the same flash of pearly whites. He couldn’t believe it had been nearly two years and it wasn’t until now he was seeing the similarity. He pointedly ignored the horrible, nagging part of his brain that suggested it wasn’t  actually the first time he had noticed it. “So you and Holster figured everything out, right?” Justin nodded, moving to sit up. “I didn’t exactly mention my minor freak out at Holster keeping this a secret,” March made a disapproving noise in the back of her throat but didn’t otherwise comment. “But when he was in Providence and he still stopped to call me and tell me every little detail about his day, no secrets, and I realized this was Holster my best friend for four years, of course he was just doing what he thought was right. I would have liked to have been there for him, to help go through all the pros and cons and the excitement of being scouted by numerous teams but in the end I don’t think it would have changed the results.” March smiled, pressing a kiss to his side as she settled against him. “I’m glad things worked out.” Justin was about to agree when he felt March tense. “Everything okay?” March pointed at the alarm clock on her bedside table. “Didn’t Bitty or…Lardo insist on a team dinner tonight?” Justin glanced at the clock too. He was already half an hour late. “Shit.” _X_ Justin and Holster were kneeling on the ice, calling for Lardo. “You are as much a part of this team as we are, get your butt out here!” Lardo had been standing firm but with each passing minute they could see her resolve crumbling. Bitty and the frogs stood near her in the stands, calling out encouragements. Everyone else had left for the year, after the team dinner Justin had been late to. He was chirped endlessly and stuck with dish duty despite being a graduating senior but the food was amazing and Holster helped with the dishes so in all he couldn’t complain. Now it was time for the traditional moment for all hockey seniors, the kissing of center ice. “It doesn’t feel right without you Lards, come on!” Everyone cheered when they watched Lardo take a hesitant first step onto the ice. When she finally reached center ice, Lardo kneeled in-between Justin and Holster. The three shared a look before bending down together. Justin kept his eyes closed, letting the cold wash over him. For just a moment time felt at a stand-still. He wasn’t sure about life flashing before your eyes right before death but it felt as if it was passing over him just then. There were so many memories ingrained into this ice, so many friendships forged because of it. When Justin finally straightened up he looked out at the stands first. Even from his position on the ice he could see Chowder’s teary face and Bitty turning away to wipe his eyes. Finally looking over at the two beside him, Justin was relieved to see he wasn’t the only one on-ice that was moved by the experience. After saying some final goodbyes to Faber the crew of seven made the trek up to the roof. The frogs were carrying most of their supplies while Bitty carried two pies and Holster lugged up a cooler. When they reached the top however, a blanket and small, portable fire pit had already been set up. Jack and Shitty sat facing the door. “What in the world are you guys doing here?” Justin asked while everyone got situated around the fire.
Shitty shrugged. “Skipping class.”
Lardo elbowed him in the ribs but he stuck with his answer. “We don’t have practice until late tomorrow instead of the morning so I thought it would be a good idea.” Jack replied simply. “It’s great to see you guys.” Holster added, sitting down besides Justin. Wordlessly he passed him a can of beer. Justin smiled his thanks before turning back to Shitty, who was getting to his feet. “A toast to the seniors,” Shitty started, lifting his can in the air. Everyone followed suit. “You guys are some of the best kids I know,” Shitty ignored the round of chirps that interrupted his toast for calling them “kids.” “Some of the best kids I know and I know you are all going to be wildly successful. You’ll do us all proud.” Shitty started to sniffle and Lardo cut him off, knocking his can with her own. “To the seniors.” She finished for him. “To the seniors.” “Law school is really messing with you, isn’t it, Shits?” Nursey asked once Shitty sat down again. Lardo and Jack both nodded before Shitty could reply. “We’ll change that next year though; won’t we Shits?” Justin chimed in, hoping to lighten the mood. He didn’t know what he would do if he or Holster genuinely started crying tonight. Shitty brightened, reaching around Lardo to fist-bump Justin. “That’s right. Those prudes won’t know what hit them with me and Rans on the scene.” _X_
Justin and Holster stood face to face in the attic, adjusting each other’s ties. Holster’s was blue, to match his eyes. Justin couldn’t be bothered to even remember what color tie he had picked out for himself. He thought it might be black but for all he cared it could be red or green. They were graduating today. A few hours away and they were officially done at Samwell. Officially moving on. “It’s crazy to be nervous, right?” Justin asked. Holster’s tie was perfect but he kept fidgeting with it anyways. As if he could somehow make it more perfect. Or maybe less perfect, so that the blue of Holster’s eyes wouldn’t pop quite so much. “Absolutely.” Holster agreed. “I kind of am, anyways.” Holster smiled. He was still fidgeting with Justin’s tie. “Me too.”
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