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#oops I didn’t mean to get so sappy
lilmissflower · 1 month
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HAPPY BIRTHDAY FNAF!!! I don’t have any art or anything made for the occasion but I did still wanna make a post about it because this game has genuinely changed my life.
I remember being an 8 year old scaredy cat when the first game came out and discovered it through my older brother watching markiplier videos around me. Despite getting nightmares, I was intrigued, and quickly fell into the rabbit hole (heh). I absolutely loved Foxy too: something something me as a lonely kid could sympathize with the character who was stuck to hide behind a curtain or whatever.
I fell outta the fandom sometime after sister location, and didn’t really think about it again until my brother was like “hey, come check this out they dropped a trailer for the FNAF movie.” So I watched it, thought it was neat, and wondered “huh, I wonder what the franchise has been up to the past few years.” So I booted up markiplier to watch his security breach playthrough… and the rest is history lol.
So I guess I just kinda wanted to say thank you? Thank you to Scott, who created this franchise that has brought be much joy. Thank you to my big brother, who is what got me into the series both times lol. And thank you, my moots and friends! To be completely real, I have pretty bad social anxiety and I can’t believe how many nice and cool people, and people I can even call friends that I have met through a shared interest in this silly robot horror franchise!
It’s silly to have such a strong emotional attachment to a video game, and a silly horror video game at that, but idk, it just did genuinely change my life and I am very grateful for that. Happy 10th FNAF! 🎂🎉🐻
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lilioopdf · 23 days
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always enough time (cardigan)
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pairing: reader x (childhood best friend! + college!) pepe marti
notes: fluff, a little angst, then fluff again! 3.2k words (oops 😓😓 i should've probably split this up)
warnings: mentions of alcohol
a/n: dedicating this to my lovely mutuals who have been here from the very beginning and even before i started writing 💗💗 idk if this is too sappy but i genuinely love you guys for interacting with my writing posts and my non-racing posts because it really does mean so so much to me and i didn’t know any better way to say thank you
and if you’re reading this, have a lovely lovely day/ahead ahead 💞💞 may people always shower you in love and warm hugs
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the first time his eyes meets yours, you’re 4, clinging onto your father’s trousers as he speaks to another man about work related things. it is a business event, after all. he waves at you, a complete stranger then, and he watches as your head tilts a little, eyebrows raising slightly in surprise, before you hide your face behind your father.
he’s six, and yet he still feels his face burn in embarrassment, all because the prettiest girl at the party didn't say hi back.
he sees you again the next day, when you're both having dinner with your fathers at a hidden little restaurant near the beach. your fathers recognise each other almost instantly, and you suddenly find yourself sat next to him as the adults talk about complicated grown up topics over some drinks.
after dinner, he offers you half his cookie under the table, and you give him half of your ice cream in return.
he's too shy to say anything this time, but he lets you play with his toy car the very moment he notices you looking at it curiously.
it's a strange start to your friendship, but it's a sweet one nonetheless.
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you grow up together, but at a distance, only seeing each other during summers when you would follow your fathers to overseas work conferences.
he looks out for you for years.
when you're 8, he teaches you how to ride a bike. how to tie your shoelaces so you don't have to stick to velcro shoes forever. how to run faster, how to run without tripping over your own feet. he's gentle with you, and doesn't ever seem to mind your clumsiness.
you're only ever the same height as him once, and that is when you're 11. that year, his hair is almost always a little too overgrown, but he smiles more, and he has more stories to tell. he's at a new school now, one where they can bring their own phones with them. he tells you about the new subjects he's learning; physics, chemistry, english lit, and history. he has more friends now, and he shows you pictures of them alongside their text messages about online games you don't quite get.
when you're 13, he seems so different from the boy you knew last year. he's significantly taller than you now, and his voice cracks a less frequently than it used to, but he still blushes lightly whenever it happens. you don't mind though. if anything, it makes him even more endearing. pepe tells you about how he joined his school's soccer team this year, but you're sure you would've known even if he didn't tell you. he's so much happier these days, but he seems so grown up too. so much more ahead of you in life, at least.
the year you turn 15, things start to feel a little funny. 2 years feels like too big of a difference between the two of you now, and he just feels like too much of a boy. he towers over you now, and his voice has changed so much that you couldn't recognise it when he called out your name at the airport. you notice how the girls around you seem to look at him a little longer, letting their gaze linger on him for a little too long before they notice you at the side, standing awkwardly and feeling just a little too out of place.
you don't know how to feel about the fact that he's almost always looking at you instead.
now, he's quicker at picking up on your body language. he puts an arm around you and holds you when he can tell that your cramps are too bad, he's quick to offer you his jacket when the wind is just a little too chilly, and he's always carrying around your things for you. "just looking out for you," he says. "don't want you feeling alone when i'm right here."
and then you're 16, and lines start to grow a little blurry. it's a year full of insecurities and unfufilled longing, and most of the summer is spent in your head. it's weird to hang around him like that now. you start to distance yourself from him, but you're pretty sure he doesn't notice anyway. he still brings you around for dinner with him and to hang out, and you accept, but you don't ask him to follow you to places you'd like to visit anymore.
you run into a school friend of his one day, and you're suddenly made aware of just how differently he acts around you. his friend's nice to look at, you think. pepe tells you that's he's a soccer teammate from school. he calls you pretty and asks for your instagram, but pepe says something you don't understand in spanish and his friend just nods, apologises, and leaves, leaving you feeling just a little wounded and put off. you wonder if you did something wrong, but you're too scared to even ask your school friends for advice. they've all passed this silly stage anyway— you're the only one who's never even had a crush, let alone be asked out.
pepe gets his first girlfriend by the end of the year, and you're almost happy for him, except you can't help but feel a little jealous. it's silly though, you think. you're just a lovesick teenage girl pining over an older boy. she's cool and loud and she's always able to visit the same places and parties as him. a perfect match. he sees her more often than he sees you anyway.
your friendship ends on a rocky note the year you turn 17. neither of you follow your fathers the next year. neither of you can. it's pepe's last year with you before going off to university.
that summer, you're on your phone almost the whole time, texting a guy from school who's just asked you out. a hockey player of some sort. he parties and drinks a lot, but he's nice to you, and somewhat interested, you suppose.
when pepe finds out, he lets out a huff of laughter. "you're not seriously considering dating him though, are you? this is just for fun, right?"
you feel yourself still at his words. "what do you mean?"
"he won't be good for you. you're just... not like that. that lifestyle wouldn't suit you," he replies nonchalantly.
your blood burns just underneath the surface of your skin in anger and annoyance.
"who are you to say what lifestyle suits me? maybe this is what i want. i've grown up, you know."
you're more hurt than angry, although you're not quite sure why. your tone is indignant and fierce, and you watch as his expression turns neutral and unreadable and his eyes flicker from you, to your phone, and back at you again.
when he realises that you're being serious, his face contorts into an ugly expression, one of anger and almost a little bit of hurt.
"fine, suit yourself then."
then he walks out the room, and hot tears start running down your face.
and that is that. he still says goodbye to you at the airport, but the both of you don't hug this time.
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you try not to think about him for the next two years.
you drown yourself in your schoolwork, tackling assignment after assignment, exam after exam, anything to prevent yourself from indulging in any thoughts of him.
when a childhood friend brings him up one day, asking why you don't meet him during summer anymore, you pretend that he was just a phase. just a blip in your life; minor and insignificant in the grand scheme of things.
time goes by, and you continue to study hard, because you want to study humanities and the arts in university but still have the grades to prove that you could've done stem if you wanted to (like pepe, although you'd never admit to thinking that).
and then in a blink of an eye, you've graduated, and your months long break comes around as you wait for uni results to come back out.
its been a full two years now, but you'd be lying if you said you'd forgotten about him completely.
how could you?
you thought about him during mugging season in school, and during university applications, and sometimes (maybe especially so) during interschool games for soccer, imagining what it would be like if he was here, playing for your school team. (you also wonder what it'd be like to wear his jersey and cheer him on loudly and proudly in front of the whole schoot, but that's not something you're ever going to admit.)
you spend your summer soothing yourself to sleep by reminding yourself that pepe's been gone for two years now, and you're still doing fine. that you have done fine without him, and that you can and will continue to do so.
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imagine your horror when you realise you've been posted the same university as pepe. same campus too.
your father is ecstatic. he immediately wants to call up pepe's dad and tell him the news but you beg him not to, tears in your eyes. you can't risk looking like a hopeless and dependent little puppy even before the school term has started.
before the first day of uni, you've already studied the campus map well enough to plan routes that avoid going near the school of engineering, just so you can avoid pepe. you're almost 100% confident that you'll be able to hide from him for his remaining two years in uni. plus, you definitely look different from the way you did two years ago, so you technically have an extra layer of protection.
except you have an orientation camp the very first week of uni, and you're just that lucky enough to have a familiar face as one of your orientation group leaders.
he recognises you instantly. how could he not?
you half expect him to ignore you, or at least, pretend not to know you. but to your surprise, he smiles. in fact, he beams at you, and he waves before jogging over to sit next to you. your mouth is slightly agape, and you can't tell if this is some kind of cruel joke that he's playing on you right now.
"how have you been? you're lucky to be here today. the weather isn't usually this nice, and i know you get chilly easily." he's still smiling while speaking to you, and he's just acting so... normal, but you?
you feel like smacking him. you left each other on a sour note two years ago, after being friends for more than a decade, and he chooses to talk about the weather, of all things.
but you just put on a smile and act the same.
arguing with a best friend is one thing, having to make small talk about mundane, boring, topics with a friend you've known for years and then forgotten is another. you can't figure out if talking to him is helping heal your heart or slowly shattering it into more tiny little pieces.
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the first few weeks of uni fly by, and you don't end up using any of your pre-planned routes.
in fact, you end up meeting pepe almost every day before you your lessons. for breakfast, or brunch, or lunch... and maybe even dinner, once both your classes are done.
you can’t read him that well, and you wonder if this is only weird for you. but you’re not one to complain. you’re not one to take this for granted either.
you’ve spent years of your life missing summer and pepe, and then you spent two more years missing him without even speaking to him at all. no, you’re definitely not taking this for granted.
you learn that he's playing soccer for a kids charity event that happens yearly, that he's studying mechanical engineering (which doesn't surprise you at all, not really), and that he's broken up with his girlfriend, because of different goals in life or something. you stop yourself from thinking too hard about whether or not the both of you have compatible life goals upon hearing the last part.
he’s still sweet to you.
maybe even more so now that he can actually look out for you. he always gives you his jacket when you’re cold, offers to help you run your errands on busy days, and he even helps you get special oppourtunities thanks to his friends and connections. and when you’re sick, he gives you updates for classwork even though he’s not in the same classes as you, bringing you heat packs and checking up on you daily with warm teas and essential balms.
it's all so lovely that you could almost cry.
except he’s always just a little too stiff around you. too hesitant to touch, too close for distance.
he'll bring you heat packs on your period, and allow you to lean on his stronger frame when the cramps get too bad, but he never gets close enough to cuddle. and when either of you stay over for too long while studying together, he always offers to sleep on the floor or on the couch, but he never allows himself to lie in the same bed as you.
it's all so polite but so frustrating, and you're even more upset because you have absolutely no right to feel that way. he's your best friend, and he has been for years. he's not someone you could ever have the priviledge of dating, and he deserves a friend he can count on, not someone who's helplessly unable to stop their one-sided longing for him.
and so you let another six months slip away as you spend more time with pepe in your head than physically, while he continues keeping a distance from you, leaving you wondering why.
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suddenly it's feburary, and pepe's been so busy with schoolwork and training for the upcoming charity match that you just don't see him that much anymore. you're pulled back into that aching feeling of loneliness, and busying yourself with your own schoolwork and friends doesn't seem to help.
i can't risk doing badly this semester, he says. this is the one that counts. i’ll have to find myself a good internship for portfolio— maybe with formula one, he says. you nod. you’d be proud of him regardless of what he did anyway.
you end up following him to the gym in the early hours of the morning just to hang out with him, even if hanging out now means you just watch him get through his workout routine while you sit next to him and sort out your schedule.
his friends refer to you as pepe's girlfriend now, and you stopped correcting them when you realised that pepe didn't seem to care. you can't blame them anyway, you're together almost all the time. you're always waiting for him at his apartment after classes, usually in an oversized t-shirt or hoodie of his, and he even wakes up early just to bring you breakfast before class.
the domesticity of it all makes you ache, but you can't even bring yourself to imagine what if would be like if your relationship was actually as desired.
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pepe visits you the night before the charity match.
he brings you a jersey. his jersey, and he shyly asks if you'd be interested in showing up to watch him the next day. you almost scream with joy, but you control yourself, accepting it gracefully and holding the jersey gently and close to your chest.
you whisper a string of thank yous, careful not to wake your roommate up, and all pepe does is pull you in for a hug. he buries his face into the crook of your neck, arms wrapped tightly around your shoulders and all you can do is press yourself closer to him, taking in the scent of clean laundry and his cologne.
before he leaves, he flashes you a teasing smile, a somewhat knowing look on his face as he asks, "am i going to have to say it, or will you?"
you're caught off guard by his comment, and you just tilt your head in confusion, unsure what he's talking about. but he doesn't explain further. he just chuckles, gently shakes your shoulder, and leaves.
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you show up to pepe's match half an hour before it starts, just so you can get a good view of the match. the venue is already half full, and you're just grateful to have gotten front row seats.
you act as casual as you can, pretending that your heart isn't racing while you're wearing his soft jersey, with the number 23 boldly printed onto the back. when your friend teases you about the way your cheeks seem to be permenantly pink, you gently slap her arm and tell her to be quiet in a weak attempt to save your face, which only results in a laughing fit from her.
the match is mostly a blur, but both teams are very evenly matched, and there's suddenly only 4 minutes left to the end of the game and both teams are stuck in a tie.
you're not sure when your focus zoned in on pepe. it could've been since the very start of the match, but you somehow catch that split second when the ball is passed over to him, and his expression changes from one of neutrality to determination. you watch as he expertly drabbles the ball between player to player, rushing to get close enough to the goalpost to shoot before the end of the match.
you're sure that everyone in the venue held their breath at the exact same moment you did, and that time must've stilled when pepe slid and kicked the ball into the goal, just 30s before the end of the match.
the whole venue erupts into cheers. it's defeaning, but all you can think of is how proud you are of him in this moment.
you don't take your eyes off him for even a second, and when the referee finally signals the end of the match, he looks at you too.
he’s all sweaty, hair plastered to his forehead, face flushed.
he's sipping from his bottle, standing directly in front of you, having run straight to you after the match.
your boy.
there's a wicked grin on his face, and you can feel the heat rise up to your face as you take in all of him in awe.
everyone’s staring, you think, but you know he doesn’t care, so why should you?
you barely allow yourself time to hesitate, but he's quicker.
he kisses you.
his mouth is warm and soft, and yet there's a certain pressure and intensity with which he kisses you that makes you think that he probably wanted this as much as you did, maybe more.
and when you both finally break apart for air, you realise that all the cheering is now directed at the both of you, and you can't help but start laughing shyly. he smiles at that, and presses a quick kiss to your temple before rushing off for a debrief, with promises to talk later.
you don't even care that your time together has been cut short, because all you can think about now is how grateful you are that you won't have to return him this jersey.
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© lilioopdf 2024 – please do not plagarise, repost, or translate any of my work on this or other platforms
thank you for reading this far!! stay hydrated and safe always!! 💗💗
taglist: @oscnorris/@httpiastri (the one and only person on my taglist 💕💕 also i realised i forgot to ask you which account you wanted me to tag so i’m just doing 2/3 :p)
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mypoisonedvine · 2 years
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𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙨𝙤𝙢 || dieter bravo x camgirl!reader (part three; finale)
read 𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙩 (part one) and 𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙢 (part two) first!
𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 || he can't believe you're really here— now he has to just try not to blow it... figuratively speaking.
𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 || 5.7k
𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 || smut (18+ only; unprotected sex, oral f receiving, multiple orgasms/overstimulation [for reader], creampie), sex work (however dieter technically does not pay the reader for sex, just her flight to visit him c:), mentions of covid-19 pandemic, soft dieter being soft, emotions!! lots of 'em!, extremely sappy/fluffy ending (oops?)
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He wasn’t sure who he was more worried would get recognized: you, or himself.
It was his idea to go out to dinner first, in fact he’d insisted on it.  Going out to dinner in times like these was a bit iffy, but thankfully the place had outdoor dining and you’d both already tested negative— for more than just the virus…
It was a beautiful evening to eat outside, but it made him even more anxious that any passerby might know him either of you from your respective works; so far, no one had said anything though.
As he watched you take a sip of your sparkling water, he realized that he hadn’t had a crush on anyone in a long, long time.  He hadn’t had sweating palms and a racing heart and a dry throat over someone since probably high school.  By the time he was in his BFA program, he was so focused on his craft that he didn’t find himself worrying much about that sort of stuff— and if he wanted to get someone into bed, it didn’t seem like much to stress over.
This was different.  This wasn’t an issue of getting you to sleep with him, although he certainly hoped you wouldn’t renege on the intentions you’d stated before— this was about getting you to like him, maybe even (as he would’ve put it back when he last had a crush) ‘like like’ him.
“Was your flight okay?” Dieter asked compulsively to fill the silence, proud of himself for thinking of something to say.
“Still good,” you nodded.  “You asked me that when we first got here.”
“Right,” he sighed, “sorry.  I forgot.”
“It’s fine,” you laughed, setting your glass down on the white tablecloth.  “I’m nervous, too.  But in a good way.”
He smiled.  “Yeah— I’m just really excited that you’re here.  And it’s still kind of weirding me out that you’re… you know, real.”
“It’s definitely trippy,” you agreed.  “When you see somebody over video chat a lot, they look sort of surreal in real life.”
“Are you… speaking from experience?” he wondered, lowering his voice a bit.
“Yeah— but not this kind of experience,” you clarified.  “I’ve never met anyone from my work before— I told you that.”
“Right, yeah— I believe you,” he assured.  “Have you ever flown overseas just to meet someone before?”
You laughed, looking down for a second.  “No, I haven’t,” you answered, “but this isn’t the first time I’ve been, you know, wined and dined by somebody…”
“Well, I figured this wasn’t your first date,” Dieter scoffed.
“No, I mean— well, yeah,” you hummed, “but I, um… before I started camming, I was actually a sugar baby.  So I’ve had my flights paid for before, is what I mean.”
He widened his eyes a little, but nodded— hoping to look more intrigued than overwhelmed.  “Oh, wow, that’s— I don’t know a lot about that, honestly…”
“I was about to ask if you’d ever had a sugar baby before,” you smirked, “guess not.”
“Yeah, no,” he shook his head, “not my— not for me.  Not before, I mean— is that what you want?”
He got a little nervous that you would only want that— a relationship built on money.  He was more than happy to drop some cash on you— he’d offered to pay for everything for you on this trip, it only seemed fair when you had to come all this way— but he got a sick feeling in his stomach imagining that that was all you wanted from him.
But then again, he just said he didn’t know a lot about it, maybe it wasn’t like that… he just felt like it was another performance, and that was the last thing he needed from anybody.
“O-oh, no— not with us,” you answered quickly, blinking a few times, and he sighed with relief.  “I mean, it was nice— it wasn’t all old guys and crazy finance douchebags like people think,” you explained with a laugh, “but it was… it was hard work, in its own way.  ‘Cause another misconception is that it’s sex in exchange for money and gifts— it’s not, not the way I did it at least.  Those guys wanted the ‘girlfriend experience’... that’s the most profitable thing, whether it’s online or in-person.”
Dieter cleared his throat; can’t blame them, I guess…
“But, you know, they didn’t have the time for a genuine relationship, so it was like giving that emotion but never receiving it,” you continued, “and that was exhausting.  Not to mention most of them had other girls involved… I’m not a jealous person, but you know, that’s obviously not what I want for myself in the end.  So I switched to camming, worked out well with the pandemic and everything…”
“I’m sure,” Dieter agreed.  “So, um… maybe this is kind of a forward question, for a first date, but… what do you want for yourself in the end?”
You seemed to get a little more shy, then.  “Well…” you began softly.  “Despite what you’ve seen me do, I’m a pretty traditional girl.  I want a serious relationship, I want a lifelong commitment, I want… a family, probably.”
It was hard not to feel a lump in his throat when you said that, even if his emotions were conflicted at best.
“I mean— that doesn’t have to be you,” you rushed out, “I’m just saying… that’s the end goal.  I have a lot of time for that, in my opinion.”
“No, right,” he agreed.  “So then, I guess the obvious question— and probably a much easier one— is what’s your goal for tonight?”
You raised an eyebrow.  “I already told you my goal for tonight.”
He swallowed thickly.  He remembered your last message before getting on the plane pretty clearly: boarding now. hopefully i can get some sleep but i’m pretty wired ngl. just thinking about getting there and jumping your bones. i want you to fuck me so hard i can’t walk (or think) straight.
“Honestly, I wouldn’t have minded at all if you just took me straight to the hotel,” you smirked, “but dinner is nice.”
“Yeah, I— I thought about it,” he admitted.  “But… can I be honest?”
“Always.”
“I wanted this to be more than just… that,” he said.  He wasn’t sure if it was a good idea to tell you, but he hoped it wouldn’t bother you too much.  Thankfully, the gentle smile creeping up your face seemed to indicate that it wasn’t particularly offensive.
“So, what do you want this to be?” you pressed.
“We can figure that out as we go,” he offered, “we should get to know each other better— for real.  But that night that we stayed up until three just talking after what was supposed to be a one-hour call—”
He saw you smile even wider as you remembered it.
“I haven’t felt close to anyone like that in—” he began, but it all stopped as the waiter suddenly appeared from thin air.
“Your tortellini, ma’am,” he said as he set your plate down in front of you, and you offered an intrigued ‘ooh’ as you examined the dish, “and your langoustines alla busara,” he finished as he set Dieter’s food down.
“Thank you,” you offered the server with a polite nod, but Dieter could only muster a hum— he was a little miffed that the guy had managed to interrupt such an important moment.
“Anything else I can get for you two?” he asked, looking back and forth.
You looked over at him to check first, before shaking your head and replying, “No, I think we’re alright.”
“Excellent,” he beamed.  “And— can I just say one thing?”
You both paused, not sure what to make of that.  “Uh, sure,” Dieter decided, since the waiter seemed to be looking at him.
“I loved you in Hunger Strike,” he said excitedly; Dieter tensed up, wanting to look at you to gauge your reaction but suddenly too afraid of what he’d find.
“Oh, thank you,” he mumbled out, “that… means a lot.”
“I mean, it really moved me,” the waiter insisted, even though Dieter just wanted this interaction to end promptly.  “You were so— I’m really not trying to intrude, but is there any way I can get your autograph?”
Then he looked at you, and he couldn’t quite read the expression on your face— amusement, maybe, with a hefty dose of discomfort as well.  You looked away and took a long sip of your drink.  “Uhh,” Dieter choked, looking back at his adoring fan, “you’ll get my autograph when you bring the check.”
Seeming to realize that he had gone too far, the young man straightened up and cleared his throat.  “Right, uh— enjoy your meal.”
Scampering away, he left the both of you behind, along with all that tension he’d created.  How come he got a escape a situation that was his own fault, and Dieter was stuck here wondering if you would be upset that he didn’t tell you who he really was— or if you’d reveal you were a crazy stalker-fan the whole time— or if knowing he was famous would change your interest in being with him (if you even had any)?
“I’m… sorry about that,” Dieter finally offered to you, and you started to smile.
“Don’t be,” you chuckled, “it was kinda funny.  Do you usually react so… badly, to that kind of thing?”
He coughed a bit.  “No, I— are you not…?  Do you know—?”
“I saw the movie, Hector, I don’t live under a rock,” you admitted.
“Oh.”  Not sure what to say next, he blurted out the first thing that came to mind: “What did you think of it?”
Shrugging, you answered with a simple ‘eh’.  There was a pause before he began to crack up— and then you did, too. 
“So, I’ve been worrying about all you finding out about my career for nothing?” he assumed, and you nodded.
“I didn’t recognize you right away,” you explained, “but I put it together before we planned all this.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?” he wondered.
“I mean, I didn’t think I needed to, really,” you shrugged again.  “It’s just your job.  I was ready to talk about it if you brought it up— if you wanted to vent about work or something— but you never did, so I figured it must not be relevant.”
“Does it… change anything between us?” he asked nervously.  “Do you feel weird about going out with a movie star?”
“Mm, I don’t know about star…” you smirked, making him laugh again— and that was the part that was the same as always.  You still made him laugh, and now that the two of you were really talking again, it felt just like that night that you talked for hours— but even better.
When the plates were cleaned and the bill was paid, the two of you walked back to his hotel— he’d picked this place in part because he could see it from his window.  But that brief walk back was one of his favorite parts of the night so far, only because he’d slipped his arm around you, and you leaned into him: in that moment, he felt more normal than he had in a long time— and yet, at the same time, special in a way he’d never felt before.
~
“I tried to clean up in here, but—”
“Isn’t there housekeeping for that?” you wondered.  
“Yeah, but… I’ve had the ‘do not disturb’ sign up for the past week,” Dieter explained.  “Didn’t want anyone to come in while we were talking…”
“Right,” you smiled, finishing your examination of the room and turning to face him again.  The door shut on its own; you were looking at him with every light in the room reflected in your eyes.
He stepped closer to you, and wrapped his arms around you, and— why were his palms so clammy?  “I don’t think I’ve been this nervous to kiss someone since… since maybe my first ever kiss,” he recalled, and you laughed softly.
“Yeah, me either,” you whispered back, and he ran his hand over the curve of your hip.  “Who was your first kiss?”
“Uh, Sandy something… Brendan, I think— no, Brennan… Sandy Brennan.  We sat next to each other in History class in seventh grade,” he recalled.  “What about you?”
“I mean, unless you count a peck or two from my kindergarten boyfriend,” you chuckled, “my first real kiss wasn’t until high school— Gregory Cho.  But I wasn’t that nervous… actually, I was sort of ready to get it over with.”
“There was someone I was really nervous to kiss in high school, too,” he recalled, “but that was… different.”
“Who was it?”
That name was much easier to recall.  “Alex Brooks.”
“Was she super pretty?  Or popular?” you pressed, wondering what had him so nervous, what made it different.
“Both,” Dieter replied quickly.  “And… he was captain of the basketball team.”
You didn’t react strongly, but he still noticed it.
“Is that—?” he began to ask.
“He sounds like a real catch,” you smiled.  “Was he a good kisser?”
“Yeah,” Dieter laughed, “for a high schooler.  I guess things don’t feel as special now as they did back then— just some decent making-out in someone’s dad’s truck was the coolest thing, now it’s like— it’s all right there, you don’t have to…” he trailed off, but started a new sentence.  “I mean, even you— I’ve seen every part of you, but I just really met you for the first time.  And somehow I’m so afraid to kiss you.”
You were still smiling, but it changed, and you reached up to rest your hand on the back of his neck; it made him shiver in the best way.  “If you’re afraid, then it must still be pretty special.”
You kissed him, after all that; he would’ve felt bad for making you wait, if he wasn’t so fully engrossed in kissing you back and pulling you closer and breathing in deeply against your skin.  
For a long time, that was all it was— just one, amazing kiss.  Just his lips on yours and the gentle dance of trying to go further without going to far; just your hands holding tightly onto his shoulders as he gripped your waist through the dress.
You started to pull him across the room by his shirt— towards the bed— and broke away to speak; he tried to chase your lips for more, but stopped when you bit your lip and rested a finger on his chin.
“You haven’t seen every part of me,” you corrected him— even though he barely fucking remembered saying that after a kiss like that.  “I mean, my body, sure, but… not who I really am.”
“Then show me that,” he pleaded.  “That’s what I want— you, everything.”
You smiled wide and kissed him again, the two of you toppling onto the bed together.  
He’d been thinking about doing this since the moment he saw you: pulling up the bottom of your dress so he could pet your thighs, enamored with the smoothness of your skin.  “Baby,” he purred when he caught sight of your panties— what little there was of them.  The lace just gave him a glimpse of what was beneath, a tease of your perfect little cunt.
“God, I need you so bad,” you groaned as you pulled him down for another kiss; he’d been hard since you wrapped your arms around him, and he could swear he was already throbbing by the time he rocked his hips against yours.  “Fuck— feels even bigger than it looked…”
“Maybe your computer screen wasn’t big enough,” he joked, making you laugh lightly before another moan came out when he rocked down on you again.  “What do you want, beautiful?”
“You… you know what I want…” you panted, wrapping your legs around his waist.
“Humor me,” he encouraged, moving in to kiss your neck— and loving the way you squirmed under him.
“Want— want you to fuck me,” you whimpered, “want you to make me— fuck— yours…”
He groaned deeply as he rutted his hips into yours harder, finally taunting you to the point that you had to reach down and start opening his pants.  “So eager,” he mocked playfully, as if he wasn’t going to ravage you the second you were done getting his cock out.
In fact, he almost tore your dress as he pulled it down to expose your chest, barely finding the time to appreciate the view of your tits before latching his mouth onto them.  “Oh fuck,” you gasped, and he smiled around the pert nipple in his mouth; these had seemed sensitive from the way you toyed with them as you touched yourself, but it was heaven on earth to confirm his suspicion himself.
“Want me to make you mine?” he prompted again, voice muffled by your delicate skin in his mouth, and you whimpered as you nodded.
“Yes— please—” you begged.
“Not sure I can do that,” he warned, and you gave him a confused look.  “You’re already mine, you told me yourself.”
You giggled, arching your back slightly as the tip of his tongue drew circles on you.  "I did say that, didn't I?"
"Mhm," he confirmed.  "Hard to forget."
"Well, m'still yours," you offered, "but I need you right now, I'll do— fuck, anything, just—"
"You don't need to do anything," he assured, looking up at you as he moved his mouth from your breast down a little lower, "just lay back and I'm gonna take care of you."
You bit your lip and nodded.
"Second I saw you I wanted to kiss you all over," he sighed.
"Well, I've got a couple ideas of where you can start," you smirked.
And yes, he would love to start there, but he needed to do his best not to rush this.  So, smiling up at you first, he began his journey.  His lips and tongue explored your body on his way down: a kiss here, a lick there, a playful bite when he felt extra naughty.  "You're so fucking beautiful," he mumbled against you.
"Yeah?  You too," you sighed.
He didn't think of himself like that— handsome, maybe, certainly aware of his better angles, but beautiful felt strange.  But he liked it, especially when you said it.  Especially when you said it while he was slotting his face between your legs.
It was even prettier up close, and the smell was fucking intoxicating: tangy and musky and sweet, heady, earthy, human.  And he knew you'd taste even better.
So he dove right in.  Maybe he should've started with your clit, that would've been the obvious choice, but his instincts led him to just slide his tongue right into your hole.  If nothing else, it certainly seemed to take you off guard, and you gasped as you grabbed onto his hair with both hands.
"Baby, fuck, that's— oh god, you can't imagine how many times I thought of this," you admitted, breathing heavy already.  He smiled against you, then gave you one big lick from the furthest down his tongue could reach all the way to the very top— all while holding fierce eye contact with you.  "Fu-uuuuck," you choked, dropping your head back just as your eyes rolled up.  "That's so… just do that again, please…"
He did it a few more times, noticing the way you seemed to get more impatient with each one, until your hips were chasing after his tongue.  "Stay still, baby, don't you trust me to do this right?" he purred, holding tighter on your hips.
"Yeah, I just— been so long," you whimpered.
He just did his best to find what made you scream the loudest and keep doing that— you were so sensitive, he just had to press his tongue down flat on your clit and move it in circles and you’d start shaking and sobbing and begging.  He moaned into you every time you tugged on his hair, having to rock his hips against the bed to appease his attention-deprived cock.
"You're… so amazing," you panted, "I— fuck! Oh god, I can't remember the last time someone—"
You never finished your thought, because he started fucking you with his tongue and you were too busy moaning his name, but he couldn't believe what a waste it was that nobody was eating this pussy on a regular basis.
"Gonna— oh fuck, yes, gonna come," you warned, "I… I'm gonna come so fucking hard…"
You started shaking, and he started fighting to keep you as still as he could so his work wouldn't be interrupted.  For a second he wondered if you were already coming or not— but then you made this noise, and your cunt clamped down on his tongue, and you cried out his name; it was perfect, it was the most beautiful moment he could ever imagine.
When it became too much, you went from tugging his hair to pushing him away with it, and he grinned up at you with a breathy laugh.  “Fuck, baby,” you whimpered, and he saw the tear streaks on your temples and cheeks.  He traced one with his thumb before kissing you again— deep and hungry, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.
He hummed when your hands reached down to work on getting his pants off— eager and shaky, he certainly related to that.  As soon as your hand wrapped around his cock, he moaned, just from that.  He was almost embarrassed about it, until you bit his lip in playful encouragement.  "Does that feel good?" you purred.
"Yeah— your hands are better than mine," he laughed breathlessly.  
"How about this?" you raised an eyebrow, swiping your thumb over his slit, and he groaned as he rocked into your touch.
"God, baby…" he groaned.  As good as it felt, he found the strength to grab you by both your wrists and pin them down by your head.  You grinned, struggling just a bit, and moaned as he slid his cock against your soaking pussy.
“Don’t tease me,” you begged, “feels like I’ve been waiting forever.”
But he wasn’t teasing you— he was psyching himself up.
Believe it or not, he actually felt pretty nervous about this part.  Not for a lack of experience— for the entirely opposite reason.  Dieter had been with a lot of people, and for the most part, it was all… the same.  It all blended together— he only remembered those people from when he was a kid because he was a kid, and his romantic encounters were so few and far between.  He could remember details of his various partners from the last few years— Crystal who had a clit piercing, Marvin who begged to be choked, Cameron who seemed to enjoy giving him a blowjob even more than he enjoyed receiving it— but this, the actual sex, it was generally pretty interchangeable.  
So, he was worried that after all that build-up, after all the yearning and fantasizing and talking, that this would be the end of it being special— and you would just turn into a hook-up with a slightly more interesting backstory than the rest.  
As valid as that fear was, it was far from enough to stop him now, not when you were looking up at him and tightening your fists as he kept you pinned and silently begging for him with your eyes.
He had to let go of one of your hands to guide himself inside, but he interlaced the other with your fingers while he did it— and then, with one strong push, he was fully within you.
“Oh my god,” he gasped, “you feel… different.”
You raised an eyebrow, chuckling a little.  “Uh, different than what?”
Than everyone else.  “I— I don’t know,” he breathed, “I’m not making sense.”
“Not really,” you agreed with a laugh.
“Hard to think straight right now,” he defended.
It wasn’t just that you felt different— it was that this felt different: being with someone he really cared about, that he wanted to impress, that he wanted to see after this was over.
Someone that he never wanted to let go of.
“You feel so fucking perfect,” you whimpered, “fuck, don’t stop— feels so good—”
One of the benefits of making you come on his tongue first was that he knew it wouldn't be that bad if he didn't last too long now— though that wasn't why he did it.  In fact, this was rarely his issue, if anything sometimes he struggled to finish for unclear reasons.
But even if he could get away with finishing quickly, he wanted to make this last as long as he could.  He never wanted this to end, actually.
As he found his pace— not too speedy yet, but with a bit of his eagerness showing— he kissed you again, deeply and hungrily.  He wondered if he'd ever done this before: kissing during sex.  He felt like he probably had, and yet he couldn't remember it— maybe that said more than anything.
This, on the other hand, was very memorable.  He slid his arms under you when your back arched, he held you tight and close and drank in every one of your moans through that kiss.
For how many times he’d pictured fucking you, he never really imagined it like this… and he thought he’d imagined it every way before.  But he realized that he’d mostly imagined it a bit kinker— you riding him, or him fucking you while you were bent over the table in his room, or 69’ing or something.  This was passionate, and sorta slow; this was his hips grinding on yours with every thrust so he could keep rubbing your sore clit; this was making love, he realized— if it wasn’t, he couldn’t imagine what was.
“I— fuck, baby— think I’m gonna come again,” you warned him with the most beautiful whiny sob.
“Fuck, already?” he smiled, and you nodded feverishly.  
“Just… don’t stop, please, just like that— fuuuuck!” you choked, and he gasped every time your walls clenched down on him.
“You’re so fucking perfect, fuck,” he grunted, moving a bit faster and not letting up on the pressure from his pubic bone on your clit, even when you actually screamed under him.  “You’re so amazing, oh god, I—”
He heard it before he said it: I think I love you.  He stopped himself before blurting it out— maybe he’d tell you after, but he wasn’t so far gone to forget that this wasn’t the right time.  You’d think he didn’t really mean it, that it was just the delirium talking from how incredible you felt, but he knew it was so much more than that.
He shut himself up by kissing your neck— not too hard, but plenty to leave a mark, and make you squirm in the process.  Your hands wrapped around his back and your nails dug into his skin, but he couldn’t even feel the pain of it, he couldn’t feel anything but the sticky, resplendent heat of your body.
“So much fucking better than the goddamn dildos,” you said suddenly, and he laughed against your skin.  
“Do you miss all those people watching you come?” he wondered.
“No, fuck no,” you panted, “there’s nobody else but you.”
He couldn’t help but fuck you faster when you said that— you should’ve known better than to stroke his ego that way.
“Fuck!” you sobbed.  “Hector, baby, you’re so— oh god, I don’t know if I can take it—”
“Shh, you can,” he promised, “you can do anything, you can come for me again—”
“Oh fuck, I— I might,” you admitted shakily, “but then I’ll— I’ll fucking pass out or something.”
“No, you’ll be okay,” he promised, cooing at you softly.  “You’ll be so good for me, I know you will— just come for me one more time, baby, tell me what you need to come again.”
“I… just a little time is all I need,” you answered, voice breaking.  “I swear I’ve never— I’m not usually so— fuck, it’s just you—”
“I know,” he assured, loving the way you babbled praises but worried it would distract you from coming again; and if you didn’t soon, there wouldn’t be time before he lost it.  He was already barely able to keep his composure just from how beautiful you looked like this, let alone how you felt.  “I know, just let it happen, I know it’s right there for me— just come for me, beautiful—”
You dragged him down into a sloppy kiss, and he felt it— those incredible pulses inside you, waves of slick coating him until he felt sticky all the way down his thighs; your sobs were more precious than anything he’d ever heard.
“Fuck, that’s good,” he praised, fucking you even faster now as your head fell back limply.  “I can’t h-hold back anymore, I need to—”
“I know,” you said to him this time, “it’s okay, please— want you to…”
“You still— oh my god…” he choked, losing his train of thought for a moment.  “You still want me to come inside you?  Wanna be full?”
“Yes,” you whined, “yes, baby, please— wanna be so full of your come, I want everything—”
"Fuck, okay," he agreed, gasping as he tried to keep up his pace despite the growing pressure inside.  "I'm really fucking close…”
“I’m yours,” you told him again— and then he went from ‘really fucking close’ to ‘already fucking there’.  He came inside you with a long, whimpered groan; his head dropped onto your shoulder while each pump filled you, trying to catch his breath but feeling like he’d never find it again.
Admitting he loved you during sex wasn’t a good idea, but saying it immediately after wasn’t that much of an improvement.  Now, though, he was too exhausted to keep his mouth shut.  “I think I love you,” he blurted out suddenly.
For one incredibly long second, you didn’t react at all.  You looked up at him, and he hesitated to even look back because he didn’t want to see anything less than ecstasy on your face.  “Oh,” you said, “cool.”
He wasn’t sure what reaction he anticipated, good or bad, but it wasn’t that.
“Let me know when you know,” you suggested.
“No!  No— I know,” he insisted, reaching up to hold your face, “I know.  I love you.  I think I did even before you came here, but… it just seemed so crazy.  We don’t know each other as well as we should for that, right?  But I feel it— I feel something that I just can’t explain—”
“Hey, slow down,” you laughed, “I feel it too.”
The way you smiled at him, resting your hand on his chest— was he glowing?  He felt like he was actually glowing.  “Good,” he decided.
“Let’s get to know each other better, then,” you announced.  “Start from the beginning, the whole thing: parents, siblings, school, favorite movies, worst dates, hot dogs or hamburgers—”
“No, you start,” he pouted, “you’re more interesting.”
“Me?  Please, I’m just your average camgirl titty streamer, don’t worry about it,” you scoffed.
“And I’m just some lame old Oscar winner,” he shrugged.
But both of you talked— all night, actually.  You never fell asleep, he was never even that tired— you kept him so full of energy he didn’t even notice how long it had been until the sun started to come up.  And then you kept talking at breakfast.  And then you fucked again, and talked some more after; he knew it had to end, eventually, but he didn’t even want to think about it.  He didn’t want to think about you going home and letting something so perfect end.
He told you just as much on the last night— assuming you didn’t switch your flight home to a later day again.  You’d just been laying in his arms after another bout of passionately desperate fucking, both of you half-asleep but not wanting the separation of even just unconsciousness, and he blurted it out.
“Don’t leave,” he pleaded under his breath.  “I don’t want you to go.”
“I know you don’t,” you returned softly.  
“I don’t want this to end.”
You were quiet for a while, turning over on your side to face him, tracing your fingers over his chest gently.  “It doesn’t have to end, just because I leave,” you mumbled.  “I know it’s crazy, but we can be together, even if we’re not… together.  I mean, I’m certainly not gonna be with anybody else—”
“Me either,” he said quickly, before he could change his own mind with the doubts— the voice in his head that said he could never settle down because he’s too fucked up.  “I only want you.”
“It’ll suck, being far away from each other— but you’ll be back Stateside eventually, right?” you assumed.
“God, I hope so,” he sighed, “if the world doesn’t end.”
“If it does,” you whispered, moving in closer, “I hope it’s tonight.  I wouldn’t wanna be anywhere else but here.”
It was a romantic thought, but as he kissed you, he realized he’d never wanted the world to end less than he did right now.  He never longed for an apocalypse or anything, even on nights that his doubts and anxieties made him yearn for oblivion just for himself, but just now he could’ve cried thinking about everything falling apart tonight.  Whether it be by fiery explosion or a quiet, instant disappearance, he couldn’t let armageddon happen now— now that he had you.  For the first time, he saw himself having a future, in a way he never had before.  Existing as a ‘celebrity’ meant being on the edge of irrelevance at any moment, knowing this could all go away overnight and you’d just be ‘that guy who was in that thing that one time’.  
But this time, he stood on a precipice of something wonderful, of something natural, and it was the most beautifully terrifying unknown.  It was tomorrow.  Tomorrow, you’d get on the plane; tomorrow, you’d leave, because the world wasn’t going to end tonight.  But his life was going to start tonight, and he didn’t have to face it alone anymore.
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starrvsn · 1 year
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` ִ ꔫ ۫ ⊹ W.CLARK ˖ TIL DEATH DO US PART.
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pairing: wally clark x fem!reader. 
what to know | 80% angst with 20% of fluff, comfort. fic, a pretty sappy ending. i do not own these characters and this is all fiction! — lowercase is intended.
word count: 5,280 (oops) 
spoilers: death and characters (also assumptions about characters back story). 
☆ on rotation: hate to be lame by lizzie mcapline. lover sung by taylor swift. she was mine by aj rafael. better for you by siaopaolo.
star left a message! my first fic! hope you enjoy and let me know how you felt about it :)
ab. you and wally were inseparable. bared souls to each other but still dancing around the fact of feelings for each other but one night he gathers the courage to tell you how he feels, things don’t go the way he plans and spirals out of control.
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1984.
the soft ringing of a phone rouses you awake, your room dark and cool from the gentle breeze coming through the crack in your window. you rub the drowsiness from your eyes before sitting up. glancing at your clock, beside it is the soft yellow landline that rings, a light but repetitive tone. the red glowing numbers reading 11:51 almost made you regret waking up to pick up the phone but the constant ringing means the caller must be persistent to get ahold of you. clearing your throat you pick up the phone, a soft hello emitting from your lips.
“hey sweetheart” you recognize the voice almost immediately, wally clark your best friend since middle school. you two are inseparable, always attached to the hip and despite his reputation, how popular he was. he never let it hinder your relationship. he always joked that you two were high school sweethearts minus the dating part which also always confused people when you had told them you were just friends but your heart hopes, yearns for more.
“hey, did something happen?” there must’ve been a reason why he called you in the first place but he quickly denies:
“oh-oh no, everything is going well… sorry did i wake you?” his voice comes out rushed, as if he’s trying to speed up the conversation. the tone confuses you but you continue.
“not really, i was just trying to fall asleep.” you softly respond. fiddling with the cord, telling him a small white lie but if there was something about wally was that you never wanted him to feel bad at your expense, always saving him the tinge of guilt that affects him more than you thought. he was a soft soul, sensitive but resilient. one of the things that make you more drawn to him. he was someone who made you feel like you had a purpose in life.
“i, i uhm was wondering if you wanted to go for a drive. i-if not thats totally okay!” you can practically hear himself rubbing his neck. a constant habit he had when he was emmbarrased or unsure. you agree almost immediately. hearing the smile plastered on his face, he boasts about having the car for the night so it was the perfect time to make use of it. he promises he’ll come to get you in a few minutes so you rush to get dressed in warmer clothing compared to your sleep wear. as you wait for him, you couldn’t help but feel curious as to why he wanted to take you out at such a late hour. sure he didn’t get the car to himself often but from his tone you couldn’t help but feel something off. ultimately your mind settles on the fact that he just felt spontaneous and just wanted to spend time with your, knowing how the school year just began and he has been busy with the football team and his parents breathing down his neck, so maybe he needed an escape.
minutes pass and you hear the closing of a car door, then rounds of rubble as if someones walking down the side walk. you don’t know how but every time wally comes around, no matter what the sounds are- you always know it’s him and when you confessed this little sense of yours when he let out a boisterous laugh and told you “you have a little part of me then sweetheart.” that made your heart melt. excited, you softly pad down your steps and open the door before he can even let himself in. you had unlocked the door minutes prior to ensure a silent arrival. wally stands still for a few moments. his gaze focusing on your face, your cheeks blush as moments pass and his movement doesn’t change
“uh, earth to wally?” snapping your fingers in front of him, the taller boy jumps back in surprised wondering how you got there so fast, and how you look so effortlessly beautiful at midnight “done gawking yet clark?” laughing, sounding beautiful to his ears he looks away smiling shyly his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck, a repeating his habit. “so where are we going?”becoming the most talkative already, in return there is no response. which is odd coming from you usually commentary filled best friend.
“no hi, how are you? do you not miss me?” lightly shoving his shoulder. you divert the subject to where he could be taking you, the cold air making you shiver as you wait for his response. but instead of giving you one he just leads you to his car across the street, no words exchanged. huffing at the lack of communication you follow him across the street (looking both ways before you cross of course)
the drive to the park is quiet— comfortable silence with the silent play of music fill the air as he drives, you look out the window to stare at the beautiful landscape of the city since wally gives no other form of entertainment to pass time. trying so hard not to stare at him as he drives, you don’t notice obviously since you’re not looking his way but there’s a line of sweat collecting on wally’s hairline but even if you saw you would shrug it off blaming it on his hoodie but no, wally was sweating for a completely different reason. he’s about to change your relationship forever. well, not forever but the outcome can go of two ways, good or bad; with no in-between.
wally clark is going to confess his undying love for you and he feels like he’s gonna throw up from how nervous he is. he didn’t even greet you, that’s how tense he’s feeling he couldn’t even form any coherent word when he saw you, hair ruffled laying in bed with sleepy eyes. it was an image that he wants tattooed on his forehead, dead serious. luckily you didn’t notice how nervous he is because you usually can read him very well additionally, you haven’t asked him anything so he’s relieved to see that nothing he’s done has gotten on your radar yet. well, he didn’t greet you when he picked you up but you just shrugged it off, not thinking to much of it. passing it as oncoming sleepiness from staying up. the ride was filled mostly silence and was also accompanied by mark or your occasion humming, soon you arrive at the park which you immediately recognize as the one where you first met wally, on the swing set late at night when his parent became overbearing. you follow wally out of the car and up a path to a grassy hill out looking the neighborhood and beautiful night sky. he takes a seat and you follow after him, sitting next to him with little space between the two of you.
the scene is quite picturesque, wally wishes he brought his polaroid as he looks up at the stars hoping they’ll talk back to him, talk him out of it or something— maybe some encouragement because he’s been hyping himself up for this moment for so long, okay just for three hours but leading up to this moment he felt like time was moving so slow. the two of you just sit in silence for a while looking at the beautiful night sky until wally speaks up.
“i have something to tell you.” he starts, his voice slightly wavering. you turn immediately to look at him as this is the first thing he’s said to you since he picked you up, a sour feeling rests in your stomach as you process what he said, in fear of hearing what he actually he has to say, you try to figure it out yourself. which you’ll find out yourself was not the greatest idea. sitting up straight you look directly at him with a hand on his shoulder.
“wait don’t tell me, you’re moving? you got early acceptance to ohio state? if so and you’re only telling me now i’m going to murd— or no have you gotten yourself a girlfriend because god knows you nee—“wally shakes his head barely scoffing a laugh.
“no, that is not what i’m gonna tell you! now can you please stop talking? i practiced in front of my mirror for this.” practicing in-front the mirror for what? you tilt your head confused, but turn it upright immediately when another thought comes to mind.
“are you going to show me that stupid dances you’ve been learning because—“
“no! y/n let me say what i need to say before i vomit on your shoes.”
“hold on wha—“
“oh my god y/n! i like you! okay! i like you. god i asked you to not talk and yet you did.”
your heart drops and the sour feeling only heightens. wally on the other hand is frustrated and embarrassed because of your interruptions and his sudden outburst to you. it was uncalled for, he knows. high on his emotions the quarterback stands up from his spot and starts walking down the hill, ruffling his hair in frustration. cheeks red from both embarrassment and the cold. can’t believe you just confessed to her like that! horrible wally clark. now she’s not gonna even want to accept your confession. ‘vomit on your shoes’ what kind of line is that? seriously.
he groans, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he continues down the path. not even bothered to see if you’re following him, he probably just ruined your friendship for life. he’s never going to let himself live this down.
wally is mad at himself, not even you, he’s only a tad bit mad at you for you cutting him off but he’s more mad at himself— he shouldn’t have beaten around the bush, should’ve just told you there and then not have any cheesy climax to it; would’ve gotten it over with quickly. you watch wally walk off while you stay planted in your seat. still processing what happened. wait, wally clark just confessed to you, the man you’ve unknowingly devoted yourself for just confessed and you were interrupting him! what are you doing go after him! y/n go! you scramble from your spot. feeling guilty for cutting him off, you probably sent his confidence down the hill with him. god you felt horrible. “wally! wait!” you call from behind him almost tripping from the decline of the hill but with sportsmen instincts he catches you by your arm. “wally, oh my god. i’m sorry for cutting you off— i’m such a jerk for that.”you say as you pant for breath, your heart racing. you look at his side profile and he’s avoiding your gaze completely, moving his head to look to the side you’re not on. “it’s alright, let me just take you home.” a breath leaves you, take you home? that was the last thing you wanted right now “wally i—“ he cuts you off like you did to him earlier “y/n really, i accept your apology. let me— let me just take you home please.” he is dying from embarrassment at this point, might as well put him out of his misery. “but–“ you start while wally let’s out a hefty sigh and inhales harshly from his nose, rubbing the side of it with his thumb. “y/n can we just forget this all happened? it’s really late i’ll just get you home before anyone realizes your gone.” his tone is distant and really pulls at your heart strings, you didn’t want to forget about this, well some parts of it you wanted to remember like him confessing to you! but you didn’t mean to make him upset; he probably is thinking the worse right now and it’s all because of you, it’s all your fault.
you don’t say another word as you nod when wally briefly glances at you, his light touch on your arm leaves as he continues his walk to the car park. you follow behind quietly, guilt eating you up as you look at wally posture slump as he walks, he’s head hung low. looking small— all because of you.
the drive back to your house was even worse, it was quiet. no music no humming, nothing. just silence— you wanted to say something make it right again but you were afraid to worsen his mood more than you’ve already done. no farewells are exchanged when wally arrives in front of your home, he wanted to say something, anything but he just let the opportunity pass. although, just as you’re about to close the door, he murmurs a soft good night that you wish he could tell you looking in your eyes but instead his eyes stay downcast on the steering wheel. he doesn’t leave right away, he waits until you’re safely inside your house and then some more. he throws his head back wallowing in his emotions, he wished the earth would just swallow him up. when you get into your room, you peak through your blinds and see that wally is still there, you watch as he sits there, eyes closed and head back then he hits the wheel of his car a few times eliciting a gasp from you, feeling more guilty. eventually watching him depart from your street.
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wally clark was avoiding you, you knew that much. after what happened that night wally began acting like you didn’t exist– as if you weren’t his best friend; as if he didn’t confess his feelings for you— which you’ve been thinking about for the last few days. it hurts, that wally’s acting so distant. he’s been hanging out with his jock friends— but you can tell his mood isn’t the same. usually preppy and extraverted, practices consuming his time and plans that pop out of thin air that keeps him busy so he doesn’t have to think about what happened with you, to distract him. you’ve tried calling him but it’s all been sent to voicemail or his mother ends up answering the phone, you could tell but it hasn’t been to easy for wally either. he feels like a dick for being this way after what happened but he’s just not ready to face you— face you’re rejection, face the embarrassment, face the spot in his heart for you that he now has to make disappear. he’s just not ready.
this whole wally avoiding you thing has gone longer than you both had expected— you, you were counting the days until wally spoke to you again and honestly you are becoming more concerned with how this is dragging out. you miss your best friend for goddess sake! you miss his corny jokes, his contagious laughter, his habit of running his hands through his had, how excited he gets when he see’s dogs on the street. you just miss him... you miss everything about him, your constant now gone. unfortunately you never end up getting the time to talk to him and by now its been months, now the homecoming game you plan on talking to him after the game. no excuses, no if, ands or buts can interfere with the dire need of bringing him back to you.
the chilly air nips at your cheeks as you stand in the bleachers watching the game. you were never a sports fan especially for football but when your best friend’s whole personality is devoting himself to the sport— not even for him but for his family, you had no choice but getting yourself used to the sport. you went to every game, however far it was you went. distance didn’t hinder your support for him. the game feels aching long and the constant cheering from both schools make it hard for you to focus, you just wanted things to be okay with him. you didn’t want to keep this cold war between the two of you.
now in the second half, you watch from the stands as wally takes a seat onto the metal bench. his mother right behind him. the conversation must be tense because as soon as the finish speaking. he’s up on his feet again. your chest tightening at the thought of how much pressure he’s under right now. you hold your breath as you watch wally catch the ball, running towards the the five yard line when a linebacker runs straight into him, tackling him— wally breaking his fall. you let out a shuttering breath as you watch him, your best friend lie there on the field and it feels as if time stops; you stand on the bleachers in disbelief. praying to some higher up that he’s okay and just being dramatic before getting up like he always does… but that never happens. all air is taken from your chest as you dreadfully walk down the bleachers, hoping this was some sick dream you were bound to wake up from. clamors of terror and commotion fill the stadium as the beloved football player is declared dead on the field. tears are streaming down your face, watching his body being carried in a black body bag that he would’ve joked about it being a tacky way of being taken out.. but theres no room for that you’ve never felt so empty, so helpless as you do in this moment. now never being able to accept is confession, apologize, make a amends. there was no future for you without him.
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all wally can see is black, a dark abyss that consumes his vision as he feels weightless, as if he isn’t in his body. an out of body experience that he hopes to recover from. that he’s just in a coma and he’ll be reunited with you and tell you all the things he didn’t get to tell you sooner. his mind is consumed by the thought of you, even before the accident he wanted to see you, talk to you, hold you in his arms but when he opens his eyes he’s greeted by the bright lights of the football field. being completely alone in the stadium. still in his uniform. he sits up dazed and confused. he feels fine, if anything he feels like a whole new person as if he’s been given a second chance in living but what he’ll soon to find out, its not in the way he thinks. he feels a bit light headed as he stands and his eyes immediately landing on a figure when he had thought he was alone. he shouts to get their attention to no avail, confused; he continues to shout walking closer to them. as he gets closer he realizes it’s you with your head in your hands and yours shoulders shaking as you wail to your hearts content. he calls out to you, at first soft but then more desperate as you don’t hear him. he feels frustrated as tears of his own stream down his face.
he cries “yn, sweetheart please, please.” his chest tightening at the sounds of your crying. pleading, begging. a mantra repeating under his breath. he doesn’t want this to be it, to be over for him, for you. he can’t lose you. he doesn’t know where he is, how he got here and he especially doesn’t understand why you can’t hear or see him. if this what death is like he thinks he landed in hell.
wally doesn’t notice the man standing by the entrance. the man that he’ll soon find out is a guide into understanding what exactly is happening and coming to terms with the fact that he’s dead and will never be able to live the life he wanted with you. instead he’ll watch you grow without him as he’ll stay forever eighteen.
‘wallowing wally’ is the nickname rhonda had come up for him. jason chides rhonda for picking on the mourning boy but she insists it was to lighten the mood, the outcome being the complete opposite. when he was first introduced to the group he was quiet, timid, distant. the others understood the feelings and recent thoughts about the afterlife at split river and had assumed he would grow out of it. but no, it continues and rhonda’s continuous jokes about his behavior being the complete opposite to the boisterous quarterback he once was— but that guy since died along with his corpse. he’s now just a shell of who he was.
it was hard for him to watch you at first, he didn’t see you for weeks after his death but when you finally came back to school. you were an entirely different person; you looked paler, bags under your eyes, lifeless as you walked down the halls with soft murmurs about your appearance as you walk by. his heart shatters into pieces watching you, sitting alone during breaks. staring into space during class completely dissociative during class. you distanced yourself from your peers and never responded when someone gave you condolences about your best friend, just nodding then walking away. your were mourning the death of him and he couldn’t handle watching it. you’re hurting at his expense and it’s breaking his already shattered heart that can’t be mended.
so he distanced himself from you. like he did at the end of his life, he couldn’t bare to see you hurt so he spent most of his days on the rooftop. only coming down for snacks or to catch up with the others  but then back at his spot. never going to group because he didn’t want to talk about it. how a little of guilt sits in him everyday watching you mourn for him. days blur by and eventually wally extends to the stadium— he’s bitter, yes that he died during a game, without a fight but it was easier for him to get over compared to you. he will never get over you. he takes his time walking onto the field, closer he sees the memorial left for him. his picture surrounded by candles, flowers, notes and other things left by other students. he’s consumed by the notes and messages his peers left him that he doesn’t realize jason joining him.
“wally” he calls, the boy turns with his hands shoved in his varsity jacket. looking over at the latter with a questioning look. watching the male with his hand over his face shielding him from the sun.
“there’s something i think you wanna see.” as much as he doesn’t want to follow jason or be lead into his trap of being forced into group he couldn’t help the feeling of interest that fills him. as expected they’re towards the gym and as wally is about to protest jason interjects with strong statements about something being there for him. for the first time wally feels hopeful, that something happened— miraculously. he follows jason into the gym. the sight of the circle of chairs in the corner of the gym prominent in his vision but now he sees an extra person taking up another seat. he wasn’t aware that another death had happened at the school and if there was he would’ve been there. heard the sounds of death within the walls. he gets closer and closer, expectant of what jason kept hyping him up about. he’s about to inquire what it is when his eyes land on you. sitting in his seat, he stares at you in disbelief. you dont notice him at first and he takes is as a time to take up you appearance. one that he hasn’t seen in a while.
you look healthier, definitely healing from the homecoming game. you’re wearing a stripped sweater he had lent you, slightly oversized and a pair of dark wash jeans and your beat up converse. the only piece sticking out from your ensamble was the beige apron, stained with clay. it’s quiet around the group before mr. martian walks inside greeting the others.
“wally finally joining us i see.” that name catches your attention. you look up from the gym floor to your recently deceased best friend. your breath hitched, blood running cold, were your eyes deceiving you? you had just seen him died moths ago, the vision still etched in your mind and now suddenly he’s standing in front of you like he’s fine. you think your gonna throw up. wally never expected for his to happen, he didn’t expect for you to react by running out of the gym with your hand over your mouth… it was all to much but the feeling in his heart makes him run after you.  he doesn't know where you went at first but the rounds of retching in the girls bathroom makes him suspect that you’re in there.
“sweetheart, i know you’re in there and i’m not gonna go in there… for obvious reasons but i-i just want to talk.” wally runs his hand over his face, feeling stupid for what he just said. he had such a habit for blabbering even if it was a serious situation. still he just can’t believe you can see him, as much as he wanted to know how you dies; he pushes that thought to the back of his mind, his main focus was making things right with you. he stands by the door waiting for you to finish. he can hear the toilet flushing, then the stall door and the faucet running. his nerves are through the roof as he hears you footsteps come closer. he calls out your name softly as you walk out, ready to be on his knees begging you to forgive him, for what he did, ignoring you for so long, not giving you the time of day. he’s ready for you to yell and shout at him, slap him if you wanted to. he was ready for it. instead, the second you walk out you pull him into a tight hug. noticing the absence of your apron, shoving that thought behind. he bends over a bit to accommodate the height difference. he immediately wraps his arms around you, relishing in your body heat. he’d missed you so much that he almost forgot what it felt like to be in your presence but now that you’re here, there’s no need to worry for that anymore. the hug lasts for a while and soon the wet feeling of tears coat wally’s neck and varsity jacket as you silently cry into his shoulder. he soothingly rubs your back and gently rocking you back and forth, trying his best to comfort you while not trying to cry himself. your knees buckle and he easily catches you, whispering soft nothings to you. it takes you sometime to calm down. nevertheless he waits. listening to your cries become softer, hiccuping for breath as you slowly depart from him.
"i missed you." you tremble in a whisper. he gives you a sad smile cupping your cheek in his hand, gently swiping your tears away.
"i missed you too, sweetheart. fresh tears form on your waterline, eyebrows scrunched you grasp his face, pulling him into a kiss. he's astounded, the feeling of your lips on his was one he dreamt about for years, now here it is and he's standing there like an idiot not kissing you back. his grasps at your waist, the kiss is different from any he's never experienced. it's slow and passionate. you've been yearning for each other for  years, dancing around the potential of where your relationship can go. you're tired of waiting even after death. you relish in the way you lips feel on his after feeling so lost without him with all that emotion you’ve bottled up when you realize that you're in love with him. words cannot express how much he has an affect of you and he can say the same thing about you.  you both pull away a little breathless. you've been waiting to do that for years and wally is a bit envious that you beat him to it. your foreheads are pressed softly together, just standing in each others presence. it's a soft, intimate moment.
"i thought i was never going to see you again." you begin looking into wally's eyes. he tucks a piece of hair behind your ear, urging you to continue. “i thought i would've never be able to tell you how i feel. i-i was going to tell you after the football game but... you know.” wally stiffens, he can only assume what you'll say next but whether you break his heart of make his dreams come true. his feelings for you won't change.
“wally, you mean so much to me. you're my rock, always there for me when i need you. no matter what is it— if it was helping me pick out outfits when you hate to shop or picking me up from a disastrous date. i didn't know what it would be like to live without you until it actually happened. i felt lost, i felt like i didn't have a purpose without you. like a part of me died when you did. you give me direction, a purpose. wally clark, i love you. i love everything about you. you're little habits, the things you hate about yourself i love it all." tears are free falling again when you finish and wally's eyes are blurred with tears as he looks at you with all the love and adoration in the world. he lets out a laugh and your face almost twists into hurt when he immediately brings you close by the waist, standing at full height. he reassures you almost immediately.
"stealing my thunder again huh sweetheart?" he jokes, a smile on his face. it's hard to stay mad at him, especially with that face— trying your best to keep a stoic face while he speaks. "i was supposed to say it first." he pouts. and you shake your head, a smile peeking from your lips but you remain. he brings his hand to cup your cheek and the other on the small of your back. "but i couldn't have said it better than you. you're the only one i think understands me the best, you see right through me and can tell if i'm having a bad day or hiding something. you supported me through my football career especially when my parents seemed like they cared more about the sport than their own son. you defend me, protect me— even though i feel like i should be doing that with you. you make me feel special. i love you and i always wanted to tell you that. no matter what you do, make me sad or mad. i'll always love you."
you flush at his words, feeling small in his embrace. your feelings have never felt so strong and it honestly felt a little overwhelming, but seeing the smile on his face eases you. you lean into his touch, your throat tightening at the new thoughts looming your mind.
"what if i'm not good enough for you.” your voice comes out strained, strong with emotion. he interjects immediately. insisting that there was no one else out that that could change his mind. you were it for him. he pours his heart out to you and you the same.  a smile graces you face and wally swears his heart melts. he'll do anything to protect that smile on your face til the day he dies... again.
"it's me and you against the world, sweetheart." he kisses the crown of your head, taking your hand and pulling you down the hall. maybe death isn’t so bad after all.
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ownership of starrvsn. please do not repost, modify or translate.
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nburkhardt · 10 months
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😇 🎄
With winter coming up that means holidays and that means, he’s going to be alone for a long period of time and truthfully?
He’s not ready.
He’s not ready to be at a house that isn’t a home, that his go-to escapes are busy with their families and traditions.
Busy going away to visit family and enjoying the warm of homes.
Steve’s been dreading this month, not just for the bad memories from the upside down. But because since the age of fourteen, he’s been on his own. Before fourteen, it was being shipped off to grandparents and as a child he loved it.
Holidays with his grandparents was fun and loud, full of life. He’d get new toys, shoes and even a bike! Then his parents decided he was old enough to be alone, that they didn’t need to spend money to ship him off to another state and back.
Now at nineteen, he could technically travel by himself. With his own money even. But every time he thinks of buying a ticket or starting to pack an overnight bag, his hands shake and there’s a whisper about how it’ll all come back the minute he’s gone.
So, he stops and continues to move around a lifeless house and pull a smile on his face around his friends. Lies to their faces about how his family will come by and not to worry about him.
But as he waves Robin off, he realizes maybe he should’ve figured out something else. Because now, now with his soulmate going out of state for the holidays, he’s actually alone now.
Oops my bad, had some thoughts and this popped out 😇
A fluffy and sappy follow up
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Permanent tag list under the cut
@spectrum-spectre @itsfreakingbats @mysticcrownshipper @artiststarme @thereindeerlady @justforthedead89 @ronniescontinuum @freyaforestafay @littlewildflowerkitten @gregre369 @zerokrox-blog @flustratedcas @carlprocastinator1000 @marvelmwah @solliesolesito @navnae @i-less-than-three-you @grimmfitzz @estrellami-1 @cartercaptainofthemoon @strangersteddierthings
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beehiveofblorbos · 1 month
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It’s August 15th! Happy Birthday, Tsumugi Shirogane!
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Tsumugi is such a conflicting character for me! She’s the character I like that I think I could be the closest friends with off the drop, and a character I would push off a cliff without any hesitation. Overall, I would say she’s one of my favorite characters in fiction. I’ll drop an analysis I did of why I love her so much and what she means to me below, but for now, today is just to celebrate and make happy the Queen herself, Tsumugi Shirogane!
(lol sorry for all these copy-paste analyses I just am never prepared and it’s a good excuse to share stuff I already had written)
Analysis
The biggest crime, imo, that a character can commit… is being boring. Be rude, be evil, be sappy, be a loyal dog, be anything except uninteresting, unobtrusive, uninvolved.
So by the start of the ch6 investigation, I plain disliked Tsumugi Shirogane. Particularly as she was such a waste of the Cosplayer talent, which was something I was really excited for as someone who loves fan communities. I was super disappointed with the portrayal fans had had so far in Hifumi exactly falling in to assumptions people make about fans, and now Tsumugi seemed to be in line to be Sonia 2.0. All she’d really had as far as plot impact was be Gonta’s only true friend. She wasn’t really comic relief either; she had moments paused and timed for comedic effect, but they weren’t funny. She was just… weird.
And then. My god, when we pulled that shot put out of the trash, and Shuichi remarked about the pink fiber on it? When I realized Tsumugi was the mastermind? The one who’d been living among us all this time??? Instantly rose to become one of my top favorite Danganronpa characters. To this day I use her “oops, I let my hobbies slip in again” and other quotable lines as stock phrases XD I just can’t help myself, she’s so cute
She is absurdly intelligent; if you go back through and pay attention, Tsumugi is constantly generating conflict in subtle ways. She joins Angie’s cult to give them a significant enough percent of the class to be a real threat, in the trial she keeps diverting the topic back around to ghosts to keep Kaito scared and keep Shuichi off track, it goes on. You literally can’t help but see what she’s doing once you know that she’s actually being intentional about it, because it’s all a perfectly reasonable “role”: that of the sweet, naive Ultimate Cosplayer. And yeah, that’s why there’s a pause and focus for all of those jokes I didn’t get earlier - they’re horrifying AND funny in the light of the truth of the game
She is supremely arrogant; she spends her entire time in a killing game winking at the camera and making veiled references. Can you imagine the audacity involved in writing Kokichi? She wrote in an insanely intelligent character, gave him a motive video telling him to end the killing game, and had him survive almost till the end? She was so confident - and she was almost right to be so, because he never caught her. But he did manage to force her into stalemate so XD
She gives them sooo much leeway. She gives them Miu, she gives them Keebo, she gives Rantaro the Survivor Perk. What does she care? She’s perfectly designed everything to lead them to entrap themselves and keep killing each other. No mind control necessary - just suffering. And she considers this essential to be called the Ultimate Cosplayer.
She’s an actress. It’s part of her talent, but the entire world is essentially a stage, she’s the director and one of the main characters, and all the other characters are her props to move as she pleases. Isn’t that wild? I love her to bits for it.
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luffyvace · 6 months
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hello! can i request hairo's kisses?
yes you may nonny! 💗💗
I’m so glad to see someone requested my silly little series!!
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Enjoy anon!! And thank you! <3
Hairo’s kisses!
your first kiss would probably happen a few weeks after you’ve become an official couple
And I’m talking past the dating phase
which you likely dated for at least 4 months
Hairo had no interest in romance before, canonly
But when he does get a chance to date, let alone kiss you?
he’s all over you!!
and he’s not embarrassed one bit :)
As for your first kiss 😚
he doesn’t seem like the type to be flustered easily at all
so it would simply depend on what your doing, or- more like where :P
and by this I mean if your inside at the time, your first kiss will happen in private!
if your outside at the moment? pda is fine by him 💞
he’s proud to have you as his s/o so he isn’t afraid to show it at all
in fact he’s not even thinking if others are around
he’s focused on you
i mean of course! It’s not about them!
LOL
he’s also the type of person to see they’re parents kiss and not cringe, or not be embarrassed to kiss they’re mom in front of they’re friends, for a better example
you know? He just sees it as a normal thing, not cheesy or anything
a display of affection—just as it is <3
back to the lecture at hand—
Let’s say you guys were inside at the time
I’m going to go ahead and say he catches you completely off guard
you two were doing whatever you were doing
probably chatting while doing so
and as soon as the conversation ended he leaned in and gave you a 3 second kiss
Now he is a gentleman—so directly after he realizes he didn’t ask first
”oh- uh- oops- did……did you want a kiss?”
”I should’ve asked first really! I don’t even know if that was your first kiss or if I’m moving too fast—my mom told me I might wanna wait-“
”it was fine, Hairo. I loved it”
you announced beaming
and apparently that’s infectious because he got a case of the smiles too 😊
You probably resumed what you were doing before
but not before sharing a comfortable silence while doing something sappy like cuddling for a bit or holding hands 💗
from then on he’ll give you a kiss anywhere
its not like pda is illegal or forbidden or something so he sees nothing wrong with it!
The most common kiss you’ll receive from him is a forehead kiss
to say goodbye, to say hello, to say thank you, to say good luck, to say goodnight
all of the above and more
he more so gives kisses on the lips when you two are being all cuddly n such
like a quick peck after a goodbye hug
or when your snuggled up, cooing little praises to each other
Hairo’s kisses are soft and usually short
so the ‘short and sweet’ type
his lips are actually really soft!
he doesn’t have chapped lips or anything and they’re naturally moisturized
he doesn’t even do anything or put anything on he’s just kinda lucky 😂
let him tell it, it might be because he works out- 😄
I can nor confirm or deny I have no idea I haven’t researched it
but besides the point
Hairo’s kisses are gentle and meaningful
In each and every one of his kisses you can feel the love and adoration
it sends tingles up your spine and gives you goosebumps from how loved you feel
theres always at least 2 seconds of googly eyes being exchanged after your kiss as well
whether a whole crowd is watching or not
if your not into pda you’ll have to tell him because as I said he views it in a casual (yet of course, still romantic) way
So he kinda just initiates it naturally
But don’t be hesitant to tell him your uncomfortable with it! 💓
he completely understands and will keep in all his affection til he can burst it at you in private 💝
if your okay with pda, he initiates it as normal! :)
You might as well call your man the kiss genie
because ask and you shall receive darling
If this guy isn’t the gentlest giant idk who is
💋💪
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locamotivednp · 16 days
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tell me about your phannie journey?
How did you know I was in a mood to yap about dnp and myself anon?
Under a cut cause it’s long and self-indulgent
I started watching in summer 2012. I actually looked up my first video a few month ago and it was The Meaning of Life. Which yeah, tracks. I then tore through their backlog. I was immediately a phan shipper btw. I saw the blindfolded cat video and just knew.
I was on tumblr at the time (not on this blog, on my first blog) and dipped my toes into the phandom at the time. Mostly just lurked but it was fun.
Until the video leaked in October. Things were chaotic to say the least. And then there was the customer service blog which,,, was,,, bad.
I was 16 almost 17 and fully aware I was queer. A lot of the conversations at the time from the phandom (and from dan sorrryyyy) were not great and I didn’t really want anything to do with it.
So I had left the phandom pretty completely in 2013 although I still kept up with their videos and would occasionally lurk in the tag.
And then I started college in 2014 and completely left fandom. I stuck around on tumblr for a little bit longer and never left YouTube but I was pretty offline (comparatively). I was living a party hard, study hard lifestyle which didn’t leave much time for online life.
I do remember most of the big phannie stuff. Gaming channel. TATINOF/TABINOF announcement and the fallout from that. BONCAS. So I was kinda keeping up.
Until around 2018, when I started grad school. I was still watching their videos but I was fully off tumblr and wasn’t watching livestreams or anything. So I was aware of the changing vibes in their videos but not thinking much about it. I missed a lot of the II era.
BIG dropped when I was at my job in the state capitol lmao. Absolutly totally blindsided me. Had to wait hours to watch it. Which these days would have been torture but at the time I was less emotionally invested. Still cried tho.
Finished my masters program in 2020 (lol) and moved to Nashville. I worked from home and didn’t know anyone besides my roommates so I got back on tumblr and returned to my chronically online roots.
I was super into the stereos and Phil’s videos at the time. I was aware of WAD and watched Dystopia Daily. I also caught up on a lot of the stuff I missed.
But I didn’t join the tumblr phandom until gaming channel came back. Pretty much as soon as it was announced I was dialed in. I think I made this sideblog when the catboy sweater and pictures dropped. And now I am way more obsessed with them then I ever was in the last 12 years oops 🤷🏻‍♀️
To get sappy, the past year has been the most into phandom I’ve ever been and it’s come at a really important time for me. Real life is so kicking my ass right now and the phandom is such a source of joy and connection for me 🫣
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duochromium · 8 months
Text
i’m probably going to be putting rain and that other remilia focused work on the backburner for the time being, i can kind of feel it in the air that i don’t want to work on any serious works for a while so basically peak may end up not coming. sucks to suck but whatever
HOWEVER!
as repayment i will show off the plot summaries i sent to w.d. gaster!
——
rain, aka Hakurei Reimu Falls Into The Sea:
Namesake is from “Roronoa Zoro Falls Into The Sea”, one piece thing you can google it if you’re interested
ReiMari fic where at first glance it looks like the yuri is the whole point but Oops! It’s A Duochromacy Fic With Reimu In It! That Means It’s Character Study Time!
The fucking rain is a metaphor for accepting help from others. She doesn’t wanna stand in it even though it wouldn’t hurt her
I hint at this by talking about the rain WAY too much. My readers are going to think I’m either a huge weirdo about rain (I am tho) or they’re going to correctly realize “hey maybe the rain is important” and then connections should start forming. I’m also just gonna directly say “If you didn’t notice, the rain is a metaphor for Reimu accepting the help of others.” in the ending notes because maybe my readers will have piss poor reading comprehension after only reading fanfiction for the past decade
Reimu is in a kind of good mood, it’s raining outside, no food in the house lmaoo, she goes to Marisa’s place (with an umbrella. It is very important she doesn’t want to touch the rain) because she wants to distract herself, they be HOMOSEXUAL AHHH for a few but after Reimu’s stomach grumbles like the third time Marisa gets concerned, Reimu insists she’s not hungry after Marisa offers to make food, escalate into argument that gets to “they’re a little angry but no insults are being thrown” level before Reimu storms out onto Marisa’s porch and listens to the rain while moping for a few, insert absolute peak here idk how I’m gonna have them make up, as a result of this peak Reimu admits she needs help and lets Marisa feed her, plenty of sappy gay love there blehh I hate happy couples, then they go and dance in the rain. I am sure you can guess what them going and dancing in the rain is symbolic of
The other one, aka How To Make a Vampire Cry
Scarlet devil mansion is hosting a ball, everyone’s having fun except remillia who’s kind of just sitting on her throne looking super bummed out (everyone just passes it off as her being Scary) tho, patchy floats over like “yo man you’re usually having way more fun wtf is your problem”, remilia talks about how flandre hasn’t been showing up to balls the past few months despite always being allowed out, blablabla “i’m worried i’m not being a good sister”, they decide to just go check on her, flandre sitting in her room listening to distant party noise until remi (maybe not accompanied by pache) comes down, flandre “i feel like i wouldn’t really be welcome even if i showed up” they both talk about what’s had them down and comfort each other then hug wholesome 100 keanu chungus I HATE WOMEN
——
feel free to take inspiration from either of these ideas since there is a 25% chance neither ends up ever being in a finished state
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brewsterispunkk · 2 years
Text
sunshine state
PART THREE: DREAMS
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pairing: benny miller x f!reader
WC: 10.5k (oops <3)
warnings: 18+ mature! PTSD, dirty dreams about friends, will’s fiancé being a shitbag, bi!santiago—(if you have a problem with santi being gay then hit the road)
Summary: you and Benny join the guys on a weekend trip to the gulf. But, when pope unexpectedly brings a plus one, you and Benny are forced to share a bed. so it begins.
A/N: heyyyy. this was so long. & not sure if I like it :/ so sorry in advance if it sucks. as always, feedback is appreciated ! love y’all.
PART THREE: DREAMS
There were times you didn’t mind the heat. Times when the heat kissed your skin like the sun in golden hues, instead of oppressing your nerves and lungs. Growing up further north meant that you didn’t take the heat for granted; you were all too familiar with hot summers, yes, but also with frigid, icy winters. The warm, gentle morning heat of Florida mornings were the kind you could get behind.
You propped your feet up on the dash, leaning back in the worn seat, your playlist opened on your phone and ready to play. Beside you, Benny’s eyes were focused on the road, his aviators sat low on the bridge of his nose. If you were more awake, you’d make fun of him for it; tell him he looked like some sheriff or cop from a shitty network T. V. show, but it was barely a quarter past 7:00 and you hadn’t had your coffee yet. The teasing would have to be at a minimum until at least then. Hitting shuffle on the playlist you’d made the night before, you sighed, Stevie Nicks’ voice filling your ears.
Benny groaned beside you, obviously just as cranky as you were. He hadn’t had his coffee yet, either, and for such a kind, sweet, caring person, he could be a pain in the ass when he was caffeine-withdrawn.
“Really?” He asked. “Do we have to listen to this hippie-dippie shit?”
You raised your eyebrows at him, moving to sit criss-crossed in the passenger seat.
“Excuse me, Miller?” You replied. “I know you’re not shit-talking Stevie. The reigning queen of rock n roll, the white witch herself.”
“I don’t like her voice.” He said blandly. You snorted. “And all she sings about is break-ups. It gets old. She needs new material.”
“Benny, you listen to Taylor Swift.”
“And?” He countered. “You listen to Taylor too.”
“Yeah,” you continued, leaning your head on the glass of the window behind you, still facing him. “But Taylor is much more sappy than Stevie.”
“Okay, that’s debatable.”
You laughed, a full belly laugh, one that made your shoulders shake. You shook your head, smiling. “Okay, whatever you say, Miller.”
Out of the corner of your eye, you could’ve sworn that you saw him staring, but when you turned, he was focused on the road.
“So,” he drawled after a moment of silence. “Wanna listen to some CCR?”
“Absolutely not,” you chimed cheerily. “We will be listening to Stevie Nicks. I’m gonna convert you.” You could tell he rolled his eyes beneath his sunglasses. “Honey—“
“No, Ben,” you interrupted. “You promised me the aux cord the whole way there if I came. No backsies.”
“Fine,” he grumbled, defeated, as the lyrics to Fleetwood Mac’s Sara floated through the car.
The comedy of it all wasn’t lost on you; it seemed that Benny was always having to convince you to do things; go to the bar, go to Mikey’s party, take edibles with him. The truth is: you’d have done all those things without convincing (besides that first night at the bar—you really were tired), but Benny’s incessant nagging was endearing. This time, though, you truly had been a bit reluctant to come.
Earlier in the week, Benny had come over with takeout and plans to watch the Bachelor, (which you’d recently hooked him on), when he declared that he had a proposition for you. This time it didn’t involve bars or partying or drugs, though, it involved something more foreboding: a weekend at the beach with the guys and their significant others. Meaning Anna would be there.
Your initial response was no. You had Thursday and Friday this week off, blessedly, and were not looking to spend them in the awkward company of Will’s fiancé and all of his and your friends who she hated. But, with the promise of the aux and free food as well as a weekend full of sunshine, Benny had convinced you. Like he always did. You were pretty sure that Benny could convince you to do anything if he kept looking at you with those soft eyes and that stupid, stupid smile.
As the song ended, Benny pulled into a run-down 7/11 that looked like it was pulled straight from the 1980s.
“Alright,” he turned to you, and the look on his face made you think that this is what he must have looked like as a soldier. It was mission-focused. “I’m gonna fill up the tank, you got breakfast?”
“And coffee,” you added, already opening your door and slinging your bag over your shoulder. You got a few paces away from the car before Benny called your name.
“Yeah?” You turned. He was leaning against his open car-door.
“For my coffee, get me—“
“Two cream, four sugars,” you finished for him. “I know.”
“Yeah, honey.” He smiled to himself, turning to the gas pump.
Inside the gas station, you picked up a few snacks, a bag of chocolate covered donuts, and yours and Benny’s coffee, loading the latter up with as much cinnamon you could muster. You even snuck some into Benny’s, convinced that you could successfully turn him to the dark side. The two of you had gotten into an argument weeks ago about whether cinnamon belongs in hot drinks. You had argued that it did.
When you hopped back in the car, Benny was already in his seat, texting away on his phone, no doubt to Will about your ETA.
“Cheers,” you said, setting the donuts on the center console, and holding his coffee cup to him. He grabbed it, setting his phone down, and clinked it with yours.
“Cheers,” he smiled, taking a sip. “Mmm,” he hummed when it hit his tongue.
You sighed as you swallowed your own coffee, immediately feeling a bit more loose. You leaned your head back in your seat and closed your eyes, feeling more relaxed than you had since before you’d woken up. Benny put the keys in the ignition and started the rickety truck.
“Yknow,” he began to pull out of the gas station and onto the swampy backroads that you’d be taking til you got to the highway. “Out of all my friends, you’re the only one who has ever managed to get my coffee order right. To remember it at the very least.”
You hummed in response, before adding, “that’s why I’m the best, right?” Only half joking.
You hadn’t mentioned the whole “you’re my best friend,” conversation that you’d had the night of Mikey’s party. You’d meant to bring it up the morning after, but Benny had been too hungover to remember much of anything from the party, let alone his unintentional confession. You weren’t complaining though; it had answered the question that you’d been secretly poring over for months. You were just important to him as he was to you. Which is why you had absolutely no idea why that had just slipped out of your mouth.
“I’m only—“ you began to panic. He didn’t give you the chance to.
“Yeah, I guess that would make you the best one, honey.” He said casually, leaving you momentarily stunned. You let out an involuntary chuckle.
“But what would make you an even better friend—“
“—no—“
“—is if you let me put on some Langhorn Slim—“
“Benjamin, I said no!” You smacked his hand away from where he’d reached for your phone, before snatching it for yourself. “We’re listening to Fleetwood Mac, I’m putting my foot down.”
Benny cast you a look that you could tell he meant to be menacing, but seeing it on his face only made it look pouty. Your eyes held his obstinately. His cat-like gaze held yours for a minute before he sighed, turning back to the road.
“Fine,” he huffed, reaching for his coffee again. “Let’s see what Stevie has for us.”
You giggled, setting Rhiannon to the queue, and preparing for the long drive ahead of you.
- - - - -
You’d always thought the highway was lonely, especially after the move.
You remember the drive down to Florida being awful, your only company being Salem and the radio. Driving a car full of your life packed into boxes, knowing that your destination held no familiar faces or loved ones.
But with Dreams playing in the background, and Benny’s fingers tapping away on the steering wheel, you caught yourself thinking that maybe it wasn’t that bad.
“Wait, so you’re telling me they almost broke up?”
“Yeah,” you giggled.
“So, we almost didn’t get the album?”
“Yup,” you continued, reaching over to turn down the dial. “One of the most best selling albums of all time.”
“Well, shit.” Benny shook his head, one hand on the wheel. “Lindsey Buckingham sounds like a bitch.”
You snorted. “Cheers to that.”
The sun still shone high in the sky and was hotter than ever now that you’d been on the road for a couple hours. That was another thing about Florida you’d underestimated before moving here; the sheer size of it. It was massive.
The group had planned the outing weeks ago, Benny had just been late to ask you to come. It was supposed to be a couple’s weekend getaway for Mari and Frankie; she was heavily pregnant and it would likely be the last one they got before the baby was born. Frankie’s parents owned a vacation house (a fact that the boys never ceased to tease him about) on the Gulf, and had given him permission to use it. That was before Pope had announced that he’d be in town and invited himself along. From there, to your understanding, it had snowballed: first with Pope, then Will and Anna, and by association, Benny and you.
Pope had finished his stint in South America a little over a month ago, unexpectedly, from what you understood. You knew better than to ask questions, but it seemed that whatever it was had ended and ended quickly. Since then, he’d been living a few towns away and no one had really heard from him. While you’d been initially worried about that because what the fuck, Benny and the guys’ reactions made you realize that this kind of behavior was normal, at least for Santi. It’s just how he was.
“Can you replay that one?” Benny asked, cutting your inner monologue off. You hadn’t even realized that the song had ended. You nodded, quickly pressing the replay button on your phone. The bass line of Dreams pulsed through the car once again.
“Told you so,” you said smugly, facing forward.
“Told me what,” Benny relented dryly, feigning annoyance.
“That Stevie is amazing. I’ve converted you.”
“You haven’t converted shit. I just like the bass.” He cast you a sidelong glance.
“Mmhm,” you hummed, completely not buying it.
In the center console, Benny’s phone buzzed. He grabbed it and handed it to you, his eyes staying trained on the road in front of you.
“See who it is?” He asked.
You opened it to a text from Will.
Pope’s bringing someone, it said, with absolutely no clarification at all.
You gasped, chuckling a little bit.
“What?” Benny looked at you.
“Pope’s bringing somebody.”
“What?” He took off his sunglasses, eyes wide. “Whatdya mean ‘somebody,’ was that him?”
“No it was Will.”
“Quick, call him!” Benny sounded like a middle-schooler waiting to hear the nearest gossip.
“Okay, okay!” You laughed, dialing Will’s number and putting it to speaker. You muted the music.
It rung a few times, before the line picked up.
“Hello,” a bored voice answered. Anna. You and Benny exchanged a look.
“Hey,” Benny said, “can you put Will on?”
“What for,” she asked again with no cadence to her voice. Jesus Christ, this woman. You began to itch with annoyance.
“Nothin’ Anne, just put him on.”
“Fine,” she scoffed, voice venomous. Benny rolled his eyes.
“Yes?” Will’s deep tambre answered.
“Okay, what the fuck was that about?” Benny asked, referring to his brother’s fiancé. Will sighed on the other end.
“Don’t worry about it, man.” He sounded tired.
You felt your skin prickle at his tone. It felt like he’d been sounding like that more and more recently; weary and quiet. A bit unsure. So unlike the Will you’d met when you first moved here, so unlike the Will you’d grown to love like a brother. You couldn’t help the sneaking suspicion that it had something to do with Anna.
It’s not that you hadn’t tried to like her–you did. Multiple times. And every single time, it was as if she’d made it her personal mission to make it impossible. It had begun the first time you’d met her. You’d planned to get dinner with Will and Santi–a sort of last hurrah before Santi headed down to South America. Benny and Frankie couldn’t make it. Marisol was home sick because of the pregnancy, so Frankie was playing nurse, and Benny had a class to teach at the gym. That left you and Will as the only two in attendance. Until Will had mentioned that Anna would be tagging along, something that had perplexed you. Not because you’d have had a problem with her being there–in truth, you had been anxious to meet her–but because you were under the impression that she hated Santi. Something you were, in fact, very correct about.
The dinner had begun well enough; Anna had been late. But when she arrived, she was in a sour mood, barely even blinking at you when you were introduced. You’d brushed it off at first, guessing that she was just having a bad day. Then, the digs at Santi started. It began with an offhand comment on how he was graying; something about the salt and pepper hair that was beginning to sprout at his temple, which had alarmed you. But no one else at the table had batted an eye, so you’d assumed you’d misread the comment. As if. Then, the remarks about his job began. She’d begun to mention how you and Will both had “real jobs,” and whatever Santi had set up down south was going to fall through. That you couldn’t chalk up to a misunderstanding. You’d been about to say something when Will had changed the subject. Rather abruptly.
That had been your first interaction with Anna.
The next had been at one of Will’s barbecues. You’d all been eating when she’d made an offhand comment about Will’s shirt—one clearly meant to embarrass him. You’d opened your mouth to protest when you’d felt Benny’s hand on your knee. You looked over at him and he merely shook his head. Saying, it’s not worth it.
Since then, you’d stopped giving Anna the benefit of the doubt, and she’d proved you right every single time. You had a strange feeling that this trip would be no different.
Will’s voice from the phone brought you back to the conversation at hand.
“Is something wrong, or—“
“No,no!” Benny sputtered. “What do you mean Pope’s bringing someone?”
Benny said it like it was something outrageous. And, to be fair, it sort of was. It wasn’t that Pope was disrespectful, or a womanizer in any sense. It was only that he didn’t get attached easily, at least not with relationships. From your understanding—based off of what you’d observed and heard from Benny—he’d had many flings with men and women alike over the years, only none had stuck. So for Santi to even be with someone long term was a big deal, nevertheless introducing them to the whole group. This was gonna be interesting.
“Yeah,” Will chuckled. “I just found out. Same with Fish. You’re just as freaked as I am.”
“Well who is she?” You asked, leaning into the phone a bit.
“Hey smalls.” Will said fondly.
“Yeah, hi.” You replied dismissively. “Back to the question: who is she?”
“Well,” he cleared his throat. “From what I know, he is someone he met at a bar. Guy’s real quiet though, from what I’ve heard.”
“Wow, honey.” Benny raised his eyebrows. “Heteronormative much?”
You rolled your eyes. “Oh my god, Benny. I taught him that word and now he will never shut up about it.” He snickered beside you, prompting you to smack his arm.
“Sorry, Will. Anyway, so he. Who is he?”
“I know just as much as you, kid. Hell, Frankie just found out, like, 20 minutes ago. Guess we’ll find out later. Speaking of, what time are you getting here?”
“Ahh, about two hours, give or take.” Benny responded.
“Perfect,” Will said. “See you then. And I’m grilling tonight, so you don’t have to worry about dinner.”
“Nice,” you said, already salivating at the idea of Will’s ribs.
“Ah,shit.” Will spat under his breath. You could still hear it through the phone though.
“What is it?” Benny asked.
“Well,” Will paused. “Since Pope didn’t warn us about bringing a plus one until, well, twenty minutes ago, we’re a room short.”
“Sorry?” You asked, a bit confused by the wording. Will sighed.
“There are four bedrooms,” he explained. “We’d planned on having Santi and Benny bunk together and giving you the extra, but since Pope’s got his boyfriend, looks like you two are roommates.”
There was a beat of silence that followed, before Will added.
“… Unless you wanna room with Anna for the weekend—“
“God no,” you burst, not thinking before the words came out. Benny snorted next to you.
“Sorry, I didn't mean—“ you tried to correct yourself before Will laughed.
“No, I get it.” In the background, you heard someone, a woman, call his name. Probably Anna. “Alright, I gotta go, see you in a few hours.”
“Bye!”
“-bye!”
You sighed before leaning back in your seat. Benny glanced at you, serious for a moment before that slow smile crossed his face.
“C’mon honey,” he teased. “I can’t be that ugly to have you huffin’ and puffin’ about sharing a room with me—“
You smacked him, rolling your eyes at him.
“Eyes on the road, Miller.” He merely chuckled. A beat passed.
“You better not snore,” you added.
- - - -
The rest of the ride was uneventful. Mostly. It went by without a hitch, if you didn’t count Benny making you jump by yelling “gator!” at you while you were driving down a backroad. He’d found out about your irrational fear of alligators about a week ago and hadn’t stopped teasing you about it since. It was nearly 2:00 pm by the time you made it to the little beachside cottage on the Gulf—thanks to Benny’s shitty sense of direction, you’d gotten lost. More than once.
Frankie and Will were already there when you’d arrived, along with Marisol and Anna. While the guys had exchanged pleasantries, you’d had a cordial, albeit brief, greeting with Anna before Mari had engulfed you in a hug, sighing into your ear about how glad she was you were finally there. You gulped, realizing that you’d been naive to hope that there wouldn’t be any drama with Will’s fiance-from-hell.
The good news though, was that Santi was due to arrive any minute, and since Frankie’s parents’ home was in a retirement community, there wouldn’t be any hustle and bustle of the usual Florida tourism. It would be a peaceful, relaxing weekend away. At least you hoped so.
“God, Mari!” You looked your friend up and down. It had been a few weeks since you’d seen her. “You look amazing!”
She scoffed, looking down. “Yeah, I’m as big as a house.”
She wasn’t completely wrong. Her stomach was round. She was 8 months pregnant—in the homestretch—and was very obviously ready for her pregnancy to be over with. She’d told you as much when the two of you had gotten coffee nearly a month ago. Still, though, she looked gorgeous as ever. In fact, she looked more gorgeous than ever. Her dark, curly hair looked fuller, more shiny, and her bronze complexion was practically glowing. Motherhood already looked good on her.
“Oh please, you’re glowing.”
“All the baby hormones,” she laughed. “I guess that is a plus side to all this. I just can’t wait for her to get out.”
You laughed in response to her.
“No, seriously!” She continued, “my feet hurt, like, all the time!”
“So,” you leaned in, “have you and Frankie decided on a name yet?”
“We have,” she smiled fondly, hand on her belly. “We’re gonna name her after my grandmother—Alma, and then her middle name after Frankie’s mom, Magdalena.”
“Alma Magdalena. That’s beautiful.”
“Thanks,” she smiled, before puffing out a breath. “Woo, is it just me, or is it hot out here?”
“No, it definitely is,” you agreed, already beginning to feel sticky in the heavy Florida heat. “And humid.”
“Yeah, I’m going inside.” She patted your arm before beginning to waddle to the front door.
You looked over at Frankie, watching his eyes follow Marisol with an almost overbearing concern. His brows were furrowed, as he watched, making sure she got into the house without problem. It made your heart ache a bit, watching them. Not in jealousy, but in envy. You wondered what it would feel like to be cared about so deeply by another person.
As if on instinct, your eyes snapped to Benny, who was talking at Frankie, and completely missing the fact that he was paying absolutely no attention to what he was saying. The live-wire look in his eyes made your lips twitch. He always looked so animated. So full of life and charisma—your heart clenched. You could stare at him for days, you thought. Just like this: hands gesturing, eyes alight, hair falling haphazardly over his forehead. Gaze so full of love for his friends, his brother. You snapped yourself out of it before you could let your mind run further.
It was high time you got over this little crush on your best friend.
He was everything to you; that much you knew.
In the few months you’d known him, he’d completely changed your life for the better. You’d gone from working a 9 to 5, staying in every weekend, merely surviving in every sense of the word, to living, and it was all thanks to him and Will. You would forever be thankful to them for that. They’d given you friendship, family, in a way you hadn’t had it in a long time. Then, your stupid emotions had to get in the way.
Benny had always been pretty. Gorgeous, really. From the moment you saw him, you’d been able to acknowledge that. But he was Will’s brother, and so kind and easygoing and you two got along so well that you decided early on that there was no way anything would ever happen between the two of you.
You couldn’t ruin the friendship; you wouldn’t ruin the friendship. That fear mixed with your decided lack of dating experience and trust issues was enough to keep any romantic thoughts about Benny at bay. At least, until now.
You shook your head, walking up to the boys, who were talking about Will’s barbecue methods—how they were “much better than yours, Fish”—and put a hand on Benny’s shoulder.
“You ready to unload the truck, Miller?” You asked. “I’m sweating buckets out here.”
“Still not used to the Florida heat, kid?” Frankie asked, arms crossed over the plain tshirt he was wearing.
“I’m an adult, you know.” You raised an eyebrow at him. “And, yeah, hell no. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it.”
“Sure, honey. But you’re not helping.” He started making his way over to the truck.
“Oh, shove off, Ben.” You followed him, not letting him unload by himself. “I’m helping.”
After about five minutes of bickering, he caved, and the two of you brought your luggage into the little cottage.
Mari was napping on the couch when you walked in, curled up next to Frankie, who’d draped a blanket over her while he read a book. Anna had resigned herself to her and Will’s room, and Will was preparing for dinner in the kitchen.
“Your room is the third door on the left,” Frankie called as you and Ben dragged your duffle bags into the house.
The little cottage was quaint; exactly what you’d expect from a senior’s home on the coast, all light pastels and beach-themed bathrooms. And most importantly, the AC was on. Thank God.
- - - -
There was only one bed. Because of fucking course there was.
You stood, staring at the patchwork quilt on the Queen sized mattress, frozen.
Logically, in your mind, you knew that there would likely only be one bed. Still, you held a sliver of hope that there would be something: a blow-up mattress or even a trundle. But no.
Just your luck, you thought bitterly. Benny cleared his throat beside you.
“So,” he eyed the bed. “What side do you want?”
And there he was. Your best friend who could dispel any type of awkwardness with only five words. This would be fine. It was just Benny.
In truth, the idea of sharing a bed with him had excited you—not that you’d ever admit that. But it scared you at the same time. You’d sometimes been known to talk in your sleep; what if your tongue got the better of you sometime during the night? Or what if during your sleep, you hugged or cling to him, like you’d been tempted to do before? You decided that there was nothing you could do about it now.
“Hmmm,” you drawled, before walking over and sitting down. “Right side.”
“Well,” he smirked, falling backwards to lay down on his side. “That is just perfect, because I always sleep on the left. Small world, huh, honey?”
“Yeah,” you sighed, resting your head on the pillow and closing your eyes, laying down yourself. “Small world.”
“You tired?”
You peeked over at him, cracking one eye open. He was laying on his side, facing you, hands clasped beneath his cheek. It made your breath hitch.
“Mmhm,” you hummed, pushing down the emotions that the man next to you invoked. “Some asshole woke me up too early.”
“Early, you say?” He was amused.
“Yup. Asscrack of dawn.”
He hummed. “And this guy, he’s an asshole?”
“Mmm, yeah.” You mumbled back, feeling the fatigue of the early morning catch up to you. “The worst. Weird guy, too. Following me around, showing up and my house—“
“Sounds like a creep, honey.” He stretched a little, rolling in his back, and moving his hands above his head. “Want me to beat him up for you?”
“Hmmm,” you hummed, feigning indifference. “I’ll think about it. Honestly, I think he might be stalking me—“
Benny cut you off with a laugh, nudging you with his elbow, causing you to groan. “Shut up.” You laughed halfheartedly back, already feeling sleep pull at your eyelids.
“Hey, kid, you going to sleep?”
“Don’t call me that,” you grumbled, face smushed to the pillow as you turned on your side.
“Okay,” he chuckled. “Well, I’m gonna play candy crush. I’ll wake you up for dinner, but don’t hit me this time.”
You mentally rolled your eyes.
“That was one time.”
“I’m serious, honey. Not trying to go back to work with bruises—“
“Fine, Ben. Won’t hit you, let me sleep.”
His only response was a chuckle.
The only sound in the little room, beside from the distant crashing of waves from the gulf, was the sound of the ceiling fan twirling above you. Breathing in, faintly, you could smell Benny’s cologne. Heady and soft and masculine and all him.
You slept like a baby.
- - - -
The first thing you noticed about Santi’s boyfriend was that he was nervous. It was something you’d come to recognize fairly well about people, being someone who’d spent most of their life nervous. And Everett, the wiry, shy man who Santi had brought with him, was definitely nervous.
And you didn’t blame him. After all, that was you merely a few months ago. Taking in his flustered, sheepish, careful appearance, you thought back to yourself meeting Will’s friends for the first time all those months ago. And god, did you feel for him.
He was slight, though a bit taller than Santi, and had curly dark hair atop a pale face. His glasses were as wiry as he was, sitting atop his nose as he chewed demurely at the barbecue.
You looked at him across the dinner table, Marisol and Santi laughing at something to the right of you and Benny at your left. When your eyes met, you gave him what you hoped was a reassuring smile, and his lips quirked in response, before honing on the conversation between his boyfriend and Marisol.
Benny was true to his word and had, in fact, woken you up before dinner. Right before dinner, which gave you less than optimal time to introduce yourself to Everett.
“So, Everett,” you spoke up when the conversation waned. “How did you and Santi meet?”
Santi chuckled a bit, and a small smile crossed Everett’s lips as he took a sip from his beer.
“You wanna tell the story, Evs?” Santi asked, looking at his boyfriend fondly, his hand splayed over the back of his chair. Everett shrugged.
“I guess,” he said. “We met at a bar. I was out with some people from work, really not enjoying myself honestly, and I guess Santiago noticed. I was shy at first, I’m honestly kinda surprised he didn’t get bored.”
“Oh please,” Santi gave him an incredulous look. “How could I? Couldn’t take my eyes off you.”
Everett’s face turned beet-red, gazing at his plate before looking over at Santi. Santi’s own face held a look so soft that you felt by just observing the interaction you were intruding on them. You smiled, looking over to Benny, who was gazing fondly on the two. Your eyes met his knowingly. Santi was whipped.
“But—uhm—“ Everett sputtered. “How long have you two been together?” He gestured to you and Benny. Your eyes went wide, before you snorted, looking at Benny, who’d choked on his beer. Will chuckled from down the table.
“We’re not,” you stopped, laughing a little, out of awkwardness more than anything. “We’re not together.” You finally corrected, smiling kindly at Everett, who looked mortified at his mistake.
“Oh, I'm sorry, I just thought—“
“You’re fine,” Benny excused him with a wave of the hand, bringing his other arm over the back of your chair, mirroring Santi’s posture. “We’re just best friends.”
You nodded at him.
“Gee, thanks Ben.” Santi drawled dramatically, trying to lighten the mood.
“Yeah, what am I, a roach?” Added Frankie, his mouth half full of food. You snorted.
“Nah, man. More like a fungus. Can’t get rid of you. Besides, she’s the one who puts up with all my bullshit.”
“—begrudgingly!” You added, earning you a playful glare from Benny.
“And she knows my coffee order. By heart. So you two,” he paused, playful as ever, “can suck it.”
“I’ll drink to that.” Interjected Mari, who was drinking soda in contrast to everyone else’s beer and seltzer.
Conversation came easier after that, laughter and jokes passing easily among the group. Anna had kept quiet mostly, and reserved herself to judgy glances and rolled eyes. That you could tolerate. And Everett had fit right in with the group; true, he was quieter than the rest of you, but what he lacked in boldness he made up for in wit. There were a few moments throughout the night when his snide or sarcastic comments left all of you howling in laughter.
Any awkwardness that may have existed between you and Benny at dinner had dissipated by the time you were both ready for bed. Whether that was genuine or due to exhaustion, you didn’t know, and you honestly did not care. Things were normal. At least, they were if Benny’s sense of humor was any indicator—(he’d cracked a joke about how “you know he sleeps naked, right?”, which was evidence enough for you).
You were practically asleep as soon as your head hit the pillow, sleeping like the dead through Benny’s incessant tossing and turning at being in an unfamiliar bed. Surrounded by that scent that was purely Benny, you didn’t have that problem, and though you woke up alone, his pillow still warm beside you as bacon crackled in the kitchen and he laughed with Frankie, you dreamed that during the night, he held you.
- - - -
The next day was supposed to be a beach day. The house was, quite literally, beach front, and made you wonder exactly how much money Frankie’s parents had, because holy hell, this place was nice. After a hodge-podge breakfast of bacon, eggs, and some fruit Mari had picked up from a fruit-stand on her and Frankie’s way there, you’d all prepared for a day in the sun, just as Benny had guaranteed.
Walking down to the beach through the long grass, the white sand burned the bottoms of your feet. You silently cursed yourself for opting to walk barefoot instead of in sandals like Benny had encouraged you to. You sped up, hobbling a little bit down the beach, until you reached some semi-damp sand, finally able to slow into a walk.
You looked further down the beach, where the rest of your group had set up camp, putting down towels, blankets, and even an umbrella. In the water, Mari was floating on her back, with Frankie behind her, holding up her shoulders. You smiled. She’d mentioned earlier how floating had helped relieve some pressure in her stomach that had been giving her pain, since it was towards the end of her pregnancy. Of course, Frankie had been waiting on her hand and foot, doing anything he could to ease her pain. Sitting on some towels they’d laid down, Pope was lathering up Everett’s pale back with sunscreen,
SPF 100, probably, you mused, remembering how pale he was.
Beside them, Benny laid in a beach chair, sunglasses over his eyes. As you reached them, you noticed he looked asleep. Under the umbrella was Anna, headphones in, and a sour look on her face as she rested her eyes. Will was in the water, wading out to Mari and Frankie.
You sighed, laying down on the blanket next to Benny. You’d applied sunscreen back at the house, having Mari help you with your back, and were now ready to soak up the sun, the cool sea breeze making the heat bearable. You put your headphones in, closing your eyes, and letting the music take you.
It was maybe fifteen minutes later when you felt a familiar hand on your calf, shaking you. You pulled out your headphones, seeing Benny crouching at your feet.
“Hey, wanna get in?” He asked, eyes hopeful and excited. “Santi challenged me to chicken and Frankie and Will won’t play.”
You raised an eyebrow at him, sitting up on your elbows. You glanced behind him in the water, where the rest of your friends (minus Anna) were standing in a circle, water up to their chests. Besides Pope, who had his arms crossed and was looking at Benny, a shit-eating grin on his face.
That was one thing about you: you didn’t back down from a challenge. You smirked, holding your hands up to Benny.
“Well, we can’t have him getting a big head, can we?” Benny’s eyes danced with mirth as he took your hands, pulling you up.
“God, I love you.” He laughed, before grabbing your hand, and pulling you with him as he began racing toward the water. Your heart stopped at such a declaration. A platonic one, obviously, but one said so casually. Your family wasn’t one that just declared that. It was more something that went unsaid, sometimes questioned. You’d never received such direct affection so unexpectedly. Your mind was reeling. But, the cold gulf water at your ankles forced you to refocus on the task at hand: defeating Pope.
“I see you’ve accepted the challenge?” Santi raised an eyebrow when you and Benny he waded out to where everyone else was standing, hands on his hips. You crossed your arms under the water.
“Why, that surprise you?”
“Not at all, smalls,” he taunted. “I can respect the bravery. Naive, but still.”
Benny rolled his eyes, standing part way behind you, hands on his hips. He was so close, you could feel the warmth from his bare chest on your back, through the water. Not touching, and not far enough away at the same time.
“Ya done chit-chatting, or are you gel gonna stand around all day?” Frankie called from a few feet away, prompting Mari to smack his bicep.
“Yeah,” Will added. “Wanna see you fight!”
“Since you were too chicken to do it!” You called back, causing Frankie to throw his head back in laughter and Will to roll his eyes.
“You gonna play or what?”
“Fine,” you play-glared at Will.
“But after we beat them, I’m takin’ you down next!” Benny added. You chuckled.
“Alright,” Benny turned to you, hands finding your shoulders. Your brain short-circuited a bit. Behind you, Santi and Everett were talking their game plan, with Everett obviously being the one on top, due to his slighter stature. “Let me get on your shoulders.” Benny looked at you expectantly. You blanched.
“I—“ your brows furrowed. Bennys laugh cut you off.
“Kidding, honey.” He shook his head. “I’m kidding. I’d crush you.”
That’s the idea, you thought immediately, before catching yourself. Your cheeks tinged pink.
I can’t believe I just thought that, you scolded, silently telling yourself to reign it in.
“Honey?” His voice broke you away.
“Hmm?”
“I said, you ready?” He raised an eyebrow. You nodded, before he turned around, his back to you. “Okay, when I dunk, get on my shoulders.”
“Benny, are you sure—“
He was under the water before you could finish. So, you did as he said. You grabbed onto his shoulders, before sliding your legs on either side, balancing as he came up for air.
Playing chicken was kind of like riding a bike: no matter how long it had been since you’d done it, it was easy to pick up again. You’d played before, often, when you were a kid with your cousins. This was just the same. Mostly.
What wasn’t the same as then, was Benny’s warm palms holding onto your knees, his fingers spanning up on your thigh a bit. You ignored the flutter in your heart.
“You all balanced, honey?” He patted your thigh, shaking his head to get a salty strand of hair out of his eyes.
“Yeah,” you patted his head. “I’ll try not to crush you.” He laughed, his shoulders shaking a bit.
“I’m not worried a bit, honey.” You smiled, looking over to where Santi had Everett on his shoulders. Frankie, Mari, and Will were on the sidelines, watching amusedly as Santi stared Benny down.
“You ready to go down, Garcia?” Benny taunted, walking over slowly, until you were right across from them.
“Oh, you’re dead.” Santi chuckled. Everett looked over at you apologetically.
“Sorry,” he said lamely. “In advance.”
You snorted, reaching out to shake his hand. “Me too, Ev. You two ready?”
“3,” Will began, being the self-proclaimed referee, “2, 1. Go!”
- - - -
The first clouds appeared around 2:00.
After beating Santi and Everett three different times in chicken, (effectively dubbing yourselves the dream team), Santi, ever the sore loser, demanded another rematch.
“Bullshit!” Santi cried, only half joking. “It’s Will, he’s biased! Catfish, you judge next!”
Benny rolled his eyes, floating on his back.
“Already told you, Pope. I’m not playing again. Think I got burned on my shoulders.”
Squatting in the water so it was up to your chin, you looked over at him lounging peacefully in the after, head tilted back. His shoulders were a little pink, along with his cheeks.
“Sounds like a cop out to me,” Frankie drawled casually, prompting a pointed look from Mari.
“Stop that!” She said.
“What?” Frankie asked, defensively. “I’m not doing anything!”
“You’re enabling them. Stop.”
You laughed, tilting your head at Pope and Everett, the latter of which was looking amused. He didn’t care about winning or losing; he just thought his boyfriend’s competitiveness was funny.
“Ya’know, Santi,” Benny had stood up again, shaking out his hair. “If you’re embarrassed you got beat by a girl, just say that.”
You snorted.
“You little—“
Santi’s voice was cut off by a deep rumble from the sky, one that you felt in your chest. All conversation ceased. You jumped, and so did Benny, his hands flying up to cover his face. A few feet away, Mari shrieked, grabbing onto Frankie. Santi grabbed Everett, before realizing that it was only thunder, and turning his face out toward the sea.
“Jesus,” he breathed, looking out toward the line where the ocean met the sky.
On the horizon, maybe a mile out, there were swollen stacks of clouds, so dark that they were a blue-purple color. They were ominous against the sea, which looked gray now. Thunderheads. The wind had picked up, sending goosebumps up the skin on your arms that were out of the water.
“That’s coming in fast,” you pointed out. Your aunt had lived by the sea, and after spending many childhood summers there, you’d learned to tell when a rain was coming.
“That’s my cue,” Mari said, eyebrows in her hairline.
“Yeah, yeah.” Frankie snapped his gaze from the dark clouds rolling in. “We all better get back to the house. The waves are picking up, and besides—that was thunder. Lightning won’t be far behind.”
You nodded as the others turned to head back to the beach. Turning back, Benny was still staring out at the clouds, shoulders stiff. Coming up beside him, his face was stony, eyes holding a type of seriousness you’d only seen a few times in them before.
“Ben?” You reached out and touched his shoulder, and he jumped, jerking away. His eyes went wide, looking at you.
“Shit,” he breathed, out of breath. He shook his head. “Sorry, honey.”
“S’okay.” You said warily, hand falling away from his shoulder. You bumped your shoulder against his.
“Let’s head in,” you continued. “Before the rain comes in.”
He nodded, turning back to the ocean one more time.
Back at the beach, you packed up your stuff: towels, blankets, bags, coolers.
He turned to you as you made your way up the sandy dunes, eyes on the ground.
“You think it’ll storm?” He asked. You furrowed your brows.
“I mean,” you looked over your shoulder. “Seems that way. Looks like it’s gonna be a bad one. Feel that wind.”
When you looked at him again, his face was grave.
“But,” you added, trying to sound more hopeful. “Maybe it’ll miss us. Maybe it’ll just rain a bit.”
“Yeah,” he shrugged, walking a little faster toward the house.
Behind you, the sky rumbled again.
- - - -
It was a tropical storm.
When you’d made it back to the cottage, the wind at your backs as you struggled to shut the sliding glass door, Will, Anna, and Mari were sat on the couch, eyes glued to the television.
“Well, folks,” the weatherman stated, standing in front of a brightly colored map of Florida, focused on the gulf.
“I’d hunker in for the night, as a tropical storm rushed through the Gulf of Mexico and into the coast of central Florida. Winds may reach up to 60 miles per hour, so the national weather service has recommended that everyone on the coast stay indoors, and stay safe.”
“Well shit,” Will stated, leaning back. Looking outside, you noticed it had gotten extensively darker, the sun now hidden behind a cover of grey clouds.
“Good thing we went grocery shopping yesterday.” Mari shook her head, getting up and stretching. Beside her, Anna scoffed.
“This is just perfect.” She huffed, sourly. And suddenly, the air was charged with tension, with awkwardness, as you and Benny exchanged a look. This was definitely not going to be good.
“I knew I couldn’t trust you to check the weather, Will. What the hell even is this? Are we just going to be cooped up in here all weekend?”
The air could be cut like a knife, and this time, you didn’t keep quiet.
“Will can’t control the weather, Anna.” You said dryly. Benny shot you a side-look.
Anna snapped her head around, eyes sharp.
“I told him to check the weather, so I wouldn’t be stuck here all weekend with—“
“—Frankie checked the weather, too, before we left, and—“
“I wasn’t talking to you.” Anna’s tone was venomous as she interrupted Mari, who was trying to mediate. Will jumped into action at that.
“Okay, that’s enough.” His voice was firm, more firm than you’d heard it. “Anna, we can talk about this in private.”
The two exchanged a look, Anna’s eyes fiery. His gaze held.
“Fine,” she pursed her lips, huffing as she exited the room, Will at her heels.
“What a bitch,” you pushed out after she’d left the room, outraged at how she’d blown up at both you and Marisol. Mari rolled her eyes, waving her hand.
“It’s fine,” she said, “I could’ve handled it.”
“But what was her problem?” You asked.
“I’ve never known what that girl’s problem is,” she laughed a little bit. “I’m not sure I’ve ever even seen her smile.”
Benny snorted at that.
“Me either, actually.”
Mari sighed, looking outside.
“Well, I’m gonna shower then start dinner. It’s Frankie and my turn to cook.”
The Anna situation forgotten, and food on his mind, Benny perked up at that.
“Ooo, what’re you makin’?”
Mari gave him a knowing look, rolling her eyes amusedly.
“Well, we were going to make burgers, but seeing as we won’t be able to grill, I think we have everything for chili.”
“Yes,” He said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pressing a messy kiss to her forehead. She scrunched up her nose. “That’s why you’re my favorite Morales.”
“Yeah, yeah,” she laughed, pushing him away. “Alright, Miller, you stink. I'm gonna go take a bath. I’ll see you both later.”
A slight rain had begun to patter at the windows outside, the wind whirred against the house, howling. The A/C in the house was still on and working as the storm had done absolutely nothing to quell the heat, causing your damp swimsuit to feel freezing against your skin. You shivered.
“It’s freezing in here,” you said. “I’m gonna go change. Maybe take a nap.”
“You want the first shower?” Benny asked as you made your way down the hallway to your bedroom.
“Nah,” you snorted. “I won’t do that to you. You know I take forever to shower.”
“Touché,” he laughed, opening the door to your room and shutting it behind him. You sighed, throwing your bag on the bed.
“Well,” you began. “This should be cozy.”
“Pardon?” He laughed, his back towards you as he gathered what he needed to shower from his bag that was sitting on the dresser.
“You know, the storm. It’s gotta last til at least tomorrow morning. Don’t know how long Anna’s gonna last in here with all of us.”
When you looked back up at him, his back was stiff and straight. How you’d imagine a soldier would stand. Similar to how he stood on the beach, staring out at the approaching storm.
“Ben,” you said quietly after a minute of him standing there, still. “You sure you’re okay?”
“Ye—yeah,” he said, voice breaking and then trying again. He cleared his throat, before turning and walking out of the room.
This was unlike Benny. He was never this aloof, high strung. Never this nervous. It hurt your heart to see your happy, easygoing, kind best friend like this.
He obviously didn’t want to talk about it right now, and you respected that. You did. At the same time, though, you wanted to make it known that he could talk to you about it, if he wanted to. So, you decided you would. Later, after dinner, when you’d both had time to wind down.
Over and over again, he’d been there for you, so now you would be there for him. If he’d let you.
- - - -
You decided to shower later that evening, and after spending over thirty minutes under the steamy spray, you finally felt free of the sand and sweat from your day at the beach. After drying off and getting dressed, you wiped some of the condensation off of the bathroom mirror, taking in your appearance.
You hadn’t gotten a sunburn—thank god—you’d remembered to reapply, unlike Benny, who still had a light spread of pinkness across his cheeks and shoulders. A few new freckles had showed up, though, across your cheeks, thanks to the sun. Your hair, though wet, had decided to behave, not looking crazy like you’d anticipated after being soaked in the drying salt water. You wore sleep shorts and a large T-shirt as pajamas.
Halfway through brushing your teeth, you heard a knock at the door.
“Almost done!” You called. The familiar feeling of guilt spread through your chest, hoping you hadn’t used up the last of the hot water. You hadn’t realized you weren’t the last one to shower.
“Sorry, take your time!” The soft spoken voice came from the other side. Everett.
You smiled at the thought of the skinny man you’d become fast friends with. After dinner, the two of you had gotten a chance to talk more—about work, college, and, of course, being the new person in such a tight knit group. He’d confessed that he’d been nervous out of his mind at the concept of meeting Santi’s friends—his found family. You’d recounted how you first met the guys, and had commiserated with him, before assuring him that you all loved him. He was one of you now.
Opening the door, the cool air of the air-conditioned hallway hitting you refreshingly as you exited the humid bathroom.
“Sorry,” you cringed, looking at a very sunburnt Everett, holding his towel and toiletries. “I may have used up all the hot water. I thought everyone had showered.”
“Have you seen me?” He asked, giving you a look. “You’re crazy if you think I’m going to shower with hot water right now. It hurts just to move.”
You tried to hide your laugh, though failing miserably when looking at him. He very much resembled a lobster.
“No,” he laughed with you. “You can laugh, it’s funny.”
“It’s just—“ you snorted. “How did you burn? You reapplied like four times.”
“Yeah,” he said. “Santi said the same thing. Getting on my ass about not putting on a fifth coat. Overbearing as hell.” He said it fondly, a small smile on his face.
“He loves you.” You stated. And it was true. A blind man could see it.
“Yeah,” he sighed wistfully. “He does. I don’t deserve him.”
“You do.” You replied immediately, looking into his eyes that had suddenly turned shy.
“I’m serious,” you continued. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look at someone like that. Even Fish.”
He snorted at that, eyebrows raised.
“Speaking of couples,” he segwayed. “Again, I’m really sorry for assuming—“
“What, about me and Benny?” You asked, pointing your thumb in the direction of your bedroom. “Don’t worry about it. I’d have probably assumed the same thing.”
“It’s just,” he paused, catching himself.
“What?”
“No, it’s nothing—“
“Tell me, please.” You affirmed, sensing he was holding something back.
“Okay,” he sighed. “What’s going on there?”
“What do you mean?” You furrowed your brows.
“Oh, come on.”
“What?” You laughed. He shook his head, laughing.
“It’s just, I mean, and I may be wrong, but I’m rarely wrong-“
“Just spit it out,” you laughed.
“You guys are obviously into each other .”
Your breathing stopped, the idea of being so see through made your head spin.
God, did everyone else know? Did Benny know?
“Or maybe not. It’s like when,” he stopped himself again, seeing the wan look on your face. He shook his head, taking a step back.
“I’m sorry, that was out of line—“
“No, it’s okay.” You tried to sound easy, carefree, and failed miserably. He started toward the bathroom.
“I should—“
“When what?” You asked abruptly.
“Huh?” He raised his eyebrows.
“You said, ‘it’s like when,’ earlier before you stopped. When what?”
He sighed again, looking at you with a genuine smile on his face, his eyes soft. “It’s like when Santi looks at me.”
And your chest expanded, heart beating a bit faster. You smiled at him thinly, trying to keep your composure. You wanted to tell him that he was wrong. That you and Benny were friends and that’s all you’d ever be. That he was an asshole for giving you false hope, and that you weren’t Benny’s type anyway. That you didn’t—couldn’t—believe what he was telling you for fear you’d break your own heart. But you couldn’t.
“He’s my best friend,” you settled for.
“Yeah,” he gave you a knowing look.
“Night,” you smiled. “Sorry again about the water.”
“Don’t be,” he laughed, already shutting the door. You sighed, turning back to walk down the hall, ready now more than anything to sleep.
- - - -
Warm hands ran up your waist, your chest, your neck, before threading into your hair and tugging. A moan escaped your chest involuntarily.
“You like that, honey?” His breath was hot against your neck, making you arch your back into a firm, familiar chest.
“Benny,” you gasped, gripping his shoulders and squeezing in the way you’d never been allowed to—never allowed yourself to.
“I’m right here, baby,” he breathed in your ear, pressing hot kisses to your neck. There was that nickname again: baby. You shivered.
“What do you want?” His deep voice rumbled, lips pressing to your shoulder.
Your breath stuttered, unable to form words, unable to think about anything other than his lips on your neck and his hips pressed tightly to yours.
“I-I,” you tried breathily.
“Words, honey, use your words,” he chastised, teeth running along your jawline.
“You,” you finally got out, hands moving to the back of his head. “I want you.”
“No,” his voice said again, more serious this time.
“What do you really want?”
You weren’t in control anymore, your mouth moving by itself.
“I want to tell you,” you stopped as he ran his lips over the curve of your collarbone, sucking a bruise there.
“Tell me what?” He sounded mocking now.
“Tell you that I—“
“What?” He asked again, more demanding.
“That I—“
You snapped awake at the sound of thunder, gasping, and jerking to the side of the bed like you were falling. The words you were about to confess in your dream, the words I love you, stamped like a scarlet letter in the front of your mind.
What the hell was that, you thought.
You leaned over your side of the bed, arms braced on your knees, for a moment before sneaking a glance over to Benny, and hoping to god that he hadn’t awoken too. Behind you, he was curled up on his side, hair falling messily over his pillow, his breathing steady. Thank God.
Outside, the raging tropical storm did little to soothe your nerves. Your throat was dry. You needed a glass of water.
You went to the kitchen and leaned your forehead against the cool metal of the fridge as your cup filled up.
Okay. Let the cool water wash whatever that was away, you told yourself. You could do this.
Padding back to the bedroom, you slipped in through the door, before setting your cup down on the bedside table. You lifted up the covers, eyes still adjusting to the dim light in the room before your eyes caught a movement. A thrash.
On the other side of the bed, Benny was curled up, knees bunched up to his chest in the fetal position. His breath was no longer calm and even, but deep and shallow. His brows were scrunched together, and his head was shaking. His lips moved, mumbling sounds in his sleep, trying to speak, but failing.
He was having a nightmare.
You moved to his side of the bed, sitting on the corner, and leaning over to see if you should wake him up or let him sleep it out.
Thunder cracked again, a flash of lightning lighting up the room, and Benny jerked, like he was embracing himself to be hit. He curled in on himself again, arms curled into his chest, and a whimper escaped from the back of his throat. The wind was louder than the rain, catching on the gutters and shutters of the house in a hissing moan.
Benny pressed his face into the pillow, brows scrunched in pain.
“No,” he whined, voice higher than you’d ever heard it. Your heart broke in your chest.
You pressed a hand to his shoulder, running it down to his bicep.
“Benny,” you whispered, squeezing, trying to rouse him gently.
He was stiff, like before, only more so now. His shoulders were tight, coiled, and he was shaking, fists clenched to his chest.
“No, no, no,” he mumbled, sounding close to tears. He turned onto his back. “No, please.”
“Benny.” You stated firmly, not able to take any more of this. Your hands pressed into his shoulders, effectively pinning him to the bed.
His eyes snapped open, a ragged gasp leaving his lips. You sat back, giving him space to get his bearings. He panted.
His eyes moved wildly, looking around the room, darting, before finally landing on you. He sighed, leaning back on the pillow, hands shaking as he brought them up to wipe down his face.
“J-Jesus,” he whispered shakily, still trying to catch his breath.
You opened your mouth to speak, but before you could, a clap of thunder sounded, making both you and Benny jump. He stiffened up again, seemingly folding in on himself.
“S-sorry, honey.” He said, voice shot. “Didn’t mean to wake you up.” He sounded on the verge of a panic attack, his breaths coming out in deep, shallow pants.
“You didn’t,” you said, trying to meet his eyes, but his were blank, haunted as he breathed deeply.
Oh shit, you thought. You knew where this was going.
“Okay,” you said, pulling him to sit up, and sitting criss-cross in front of him. “Benny,” you started, bending your head to meet his eyes. “Benny,” you said more firmly this time. His panicked eyes met yours. “Okay, I need you to breathe, okay, Ben? Can you do that?”
“I—I don't know,” he said, scared, out of breath. “I can’t,”
“Okay,” you said, trying to sound as calm as you could, wanting so desperately to help the man in front of you.
You thought back to your last panic attack, at the museum with Will. You knew exactly what to do.
“Just look at me, Benny.” You said, and his eyes met yours. You brought his hand up to your chest, scooting closer to him. “Okay, feel that?” He nodded.
“Okay, breathe with me. When I breathe, you breathe, got it?” You inhaled deeply, still holding his hand right below your collarbone. He nodded with you, breathing in raggedly. Still, it was a start.
“Good,” You cooed. “Now exhale. Good. Deep inhale.”
He breathed with you for a few minutes, eyes never leaving yours. Sometime in that time, his other hand found your hip, gripping it tightly, like a lifeline. Eventually, his breathing evened a bit. He was still trembling.
“I’m sorry,” he broke the silence, sheepish. You shook your head, nudging him.
“Hey.” You said firmly. “Stop that. It’s okay. I get them too, sometimes.”
He smiled gratefully at you, eyes softer than you’d seen them.
“Wanna talk about it?” You asked, still quiet, not wanting to break whatever this was. He sighed.
“I was back,” he swallowed. “Back over there. Bombs, blood, carnage.” He looked grave. You squeezed his knee.
“Do they happen often?”
“No,” he began. “Only when—“
Another clap of thunder, and Benny’s grip on your hip tightened, unconsciously pulling you closer. He squeezed his eyes tight.
“The storm?” You asked. He nodded, sheepish.
“It’s like,” he paused. “When they happen, either I can’t sleep and I’m a nervous wreck all night, or,” he sighed. “Or I can and I have these nightmares. It’s like, I can’t catch a break.”
“Does anything help?” You whispered, desperate to help him. You peeked over at the clock. 2:00 a.m.
“Sometimes, Will would—“ he stopped himself, shaking his head. “Nevermind.”
“No,” you said, with maybe too much force, “Benny, Will would do what?”
He sighed, shaking his head.
“He would—just, sometimes when we were deployed or—or I would get really bad, he’d,” he stopped, squeezing his eyes shut. “He would let me, like, listen to his heart. To give me something else to focus on. Like, his pulse or something.”
You blanched.
Oh. Oh.
He took your silence for awkwardness.
“You know, nevermind, it’s okay,” he began to move back, but you caught him by both arms, earnest.
“No!” You insisted. “No, it’s fine.”
He let out a breath. A beat of silence passed.
“I’ll,” you paused, swallowing. “You can—listen to my heart. If you want.” You added the last part lamely.
“Honey,” he sounded desperate, straining. You weren’t sure why. “You don’t have to. I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable—“
“Benny,” you glared at him. “I think we’re past that.”
He looked at you, brows pulled together in uncertainty.
“I mean, you were between my legs earlier—“
“Oh my god,” he laughed. Finally. A genuine smile out of him. You smiled back, falling back onto your side of the bed and getting comfortable on your own pillow. You opened the covers, looking over at him.
“Come here,” you said, and he obeyed.
He settled his head against your collarbone, his hips settling between yours, his arms braces under your back. He was wary to put his whole weight on you.
“Benny, are you gonna lie down, or are you just gonna hover?”
“I don’t wanna crush you—“ he began, obviously still nervous.
You rolled your eyes, grabbing his shoulders and pulling down to you, prompting an “oof,” from him.
As if on queue, another crack of thunder boomed, his grip tightening around your middle. He let out a breath that brushed your collarbone. You tried to ignore how it made you feel.
“Are you sure this is okay?” He asked, shaky. You ran a hand through his hair without thinking. He shivered against you.
“Yeah, Ben.” You said softly. “It’s okay. Go to sleep.”
“Okay,” he breathed, barely audible, before sighing again. This time, in relief. He sagged against you.
You scratched your nails over his scalp, and pretended to ignore the noise that escaped him in response. Your fingers threaded through his hair, trying to sleep yourself, enjoying Benny’s warm, firm weight on top of you entirely too much. After a moment, Benny spoke again.
“Honey,” he mumbled.
“Mmhm,” you hummed.
“Thank you.”
You didn’t respond, only tugged a little on his hair, exhaling deeply.
He was asleep within minutes.
363 notes · View notes
melodyofthevoid · 3 years
Note
I am curious about the little prince perfect au.
*cackles* Oh, oh dear. Oh dear. You're in for a treat. This is the au that's gotten the most development out of all of them, save for the kid au. This was our second au au and got the treatment, let me tell you. Shands is responsible for this one actually, having wanted to create a cute little au.
They really shouldn't have gotten me involved. But I digress.
Our story begins before the mirroring, back when the twins are 16, right when Dib's off figuring out whether he loves Zim or not (spoiler alert, he does). Now, the largest change to events is Twim. In this au, he did not go back to the village, in fact, he managed to achieve his dream. Our resident himbo became a knight. A knight for the house of Membrane, specifically.
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Now, Zib is struggling with their place on the proverbial totem pole. They're important enough that their father still offers lessons and the like, but Dib still gets the lion's share of attention. However, one day he spots a familiar face in the trainees, and oops, our resident prince has fallen head over heels. And bless them, they're falling hard. Dib and Gaz are delighted because it's funny to see their usually composed brother absolutely go heart eyes and mushy for said knight.
(This is old but again, thanks go to @shandzii for allowing me to put this in public fkjdsfldsk)
However.
Zib's lack of subtlety alerted another party to the problem: Membrane. The other major change in this au is that Membrane is... a bit of a prick. While he doesn't particularly give Zib much attention, having his son openly moon and court a knight means that he can't have him... available for arranged marriages. No one wants a distracted groom. So he (courtesy of me) decides to make his expectations... clear. To Twim. This au does follow the song, after all. I made sure of it.
When a king asks you to do something, you do it. And Twim tells Zib, that it didn't mean anything. That it was all... a joke. Pretend.
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Sad boi go brr.
Since Zib makes absolutely great life choices when they're upset, they retreat to their fledgling study and vow. Vow to never let their heart be fooled by false love again, never let their emotions get in the way of his proper duty. And so he seals them away.
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He's coping real well y'all.
Thankfully, his siblings notice that something is Not Right™ and vow to fix what's been broken. Splitting up to solve the issue and put everything back in order. Thankfully, and this is crucial, Zib is fucking terrible at wording their curses. "False love" this is not. With some threats from Gaz and some sappy words, the spell Zib put on themself is broken, and all are happy. Zib and Twim may or may not elope into the woods who knows. But yeah! If you all are interested, I have a few small ficlets for this au!
But yeah, this was the more extensive of the aus, I'm so glad you asked about it!
152 notes · View notes
jasmine-iroh · 4 years
Text
Sparring Partners
Pairing: Zuko x f!reader
WC: 2.5K
A/N: howdyyyy I’ll be honest idk what this is besides self satisfactory fluff oops. send in some requests pls, I’m bored as heck!
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Never let (Y/N) and Zuko spar.
That was an unspoken rule on Team Avatar after Zuko joined the group. The group had witnessed the aftermath of their practicing one too many times; angry gatherings of flames licking at the bark of uprooted trees scattered around piles of rubble and burnt grass.
Simply put, the pair were a force of nature. That wasn’t the reason they weren’t allowed to fight, though. No, nobody really paid much mind to their destructive tendencies, as long as they weren’t too close to camp.
It was their moods after the fight was done that brought about the rule.
Zuko would slink away to his tent and brood, grumbling at anyone who ventured too close to him. (Y/N) would stay with the group, a grin stuck to her face the whole time. It wasn’t a smile that put anyone at ease, though. It was feral, the snapping teeth and predatory curl of her lips more suited to a big cat than a young girl. Even Katara, who was usually found near (Y/N)’s side, avoided sitting too close.
(Y/N) was never mean to the others, but she had a razor sharp edge to her for hours after the duel that made Aang shift nervously in his seat and Sokka focus more on being the meat guy than the sarcasm guy. Suki would stay on edge until it was finally time to split up into their individual tents. Her fighting instincts would be on alert at the scent of scorched earth coming from (Y/N), a completely different smell from the smoke from the campfire.
Zuko, of course, would be the one to start said campfire. There was a tense, almost shy set to his shoulders as the weight of wild eyes bore down on him from near Toph. Toph, incidentally, never seemed to mind the rumbling of thunder in (Y/N)’s voice after a fight with Zuko, or the way Zuko’s heart beat staggered whenever (Y/N) so much as walked past him.
Toph didn’t care if the pair sparred, as long as it would get them over their timid dance around camp. She thought it was an entertaining break in the monotony of training and hiding, and the feeling of (Y/N) earthbending with such raw emotion was as sappy as any romance story there was. It was truly hilarious to her that nobody else could connect the dots between the unbridled chaos of their fighting and their quiet moments together around a campfire.
**
It had been a few days since the last incident when Toph finally decided to ask (Y/N) what their deal was during a training session.
“So, what’s up with you and Sifu Hotman?” She asked, a slightly maniacal laugh falling past her lips when she managed to catch (Y/N) off guard and nail her in the side with a boulder. Toph had taken to using Aang’s ridiculous nickname after she realized how quickly she could get under Zuko’s skin with it. Payback for Zuko burning her feet, she had justified.
Coughing and sputtering from the blow, (Y/N) tried to deflect the question with a volley of rocks she’d been keeping suspended in the air long enough for Toph to half lose track of.
“Hey, that’s cheating!” Toph huffed indignantly, dodging the attack before shifting her feet and sending the slab of earth below (Y/N) tilting sideways.
“No, I just saw a weakness and used it,” (Y/N) laughed and leapt from her crumbling perch to position herself in the middle of the sparring area, knowing that Aang, Zuko, Suki, and Sokka were somewhere behind her. Toph wasn’t stupid, she knew (Y/N) was trying to get into a position that would make Toph go easier on her with their friends in the line of fire.
Oh (Y/N), you really think you’re clever, don’t you? Toph thought with a smirk as a plan formed in her mind, pressing her knuckles into the dirt and twisting them sharply. She felt (Y/N)’s growl before she heard it, knowing that the other girl hated when Toph locked her feet into the earth. This time, though, she kept her hold on the rock, sitting down and waiting for (Y/N) to answer her original question.
“Toph, c’mon!” (Y/N) whined, trying to free herself as Toph sat a few meters away laughing.
“Just tell me and I’ll let you go!” Toph called back, bending herself a chair from the earth with one hand while the other kept it’s grip on the rocks around (Y/N)’s ankles.
“You’re such a little jerk,” (Y/N) answered instead, looking around for something to help her. She was weak without being able to use her feet as her center, something Toph had been hounding her about forever.
“I thought best friends told each other everything,” Toph mocked as she felt the others stop fighting to watch the scene in front of them.
“Yeah, but you also told me you’d throw me off Appa because I took Momo’s seat last week,” (Y/N) replied, crossing her arms stubbornly. Toph was a stronger bender, but (Y/N) had more patience, knowing Toph could get bored or frustrated pretty quickly. That’s how they’d always been, ever since (Y/N) had been sent to live with her helpless, blind little cousin all those years ago.
“What’s going on?” Aang asked the pair, scootering over on a ball of air with a peeved looking Zuko trailing behind him.
“(Y/N)’s keeping secrets from me and acting like I won’t find out,” Toph accused, watching as Suki and Sokka joined the group. Katara, who had been assigned camp duties for the day, drew closer at the lack of fighting sounds.
“Toph,” (Y/N) warned, a sharp threat in her voice as the sound of a tree being pulled up at the roots echoed around the clearing as (Y/N) clenched her fists.
“Yes?” A challenge in her voice, her fist twisting further into the earth and sinking (Y/N) up to her waist in tightly compressed rocks.
“Enough.” Zuko stepped in between the pair, and Toph couldn’t help but notice the spike in his heart rate when (Y/N) dropped up to her shoulders in rock.
“Zuko, stay out of this. Toph’s just being a pain,” (Y/N) huffed, having a hard time breathing with the merciless press of dirt and rock around her chest.
He didn’t stay out of it of course, his heart beating faster than a bird's wings as he watched (Y/N) struggle in the ground. Toph thought the duo were nauseatingly oblivious.
She let out a frustrated growl and slammed her foot on the ground, sending Zuko sprawling flat out next to (Y/N) and encasing his hands and feet in earth.
“Fine. You can both stay here until one of you tells me, then.” Toph declared before standing and walking away from the pair. The rest of the group looked from Toph back down to their friends buried in the ground, and decided that maybe they didn’t want to end up stuck next to the pair. They walked off, promising to talk to Toph and have her fix this.
“Spirits, she’s such a little bastard,” (Y/N) mumbled, turning her head to look at Zuko. She blinked in shock, not expecting his face to be quite so close to hers. A tricky little bastard, the girl amended in her head.
“What were you two fighting about?” Zuko asked quietly, not having to speak much above a whisper with their proximity. Had his eyes always been so golden?
“She asked about what was going on between us,” (Y/N) answered, closing her eyes and turning her head away from him towards the sky. The sun pressed red kisses against her closed eyelids while the breeze played with her hair, making her feel for a moment that she was laid out next to Zuko in a spring meadow by choice instead of locked into the dirt by Toph.
“What did you tell her?” He kept his voice low, tone conspiratorial. He stared at (Y/N), the sun loving her throat and pressing kisses to her cheekbones. He thought, just for a moment, that Toph had done him a favor by locking him into this view.
A laugh, and then, “I didn’t tell her anything.”
“Why not?” He prodded, wishing (Y/N) would turn her head so he could… could what? He thought to himself, images of him wiggling closer and closing the distance between them flickering in his mind without warning. A warm blush crept up his neck at the thoughts, wishing he wasn’t so affected by their proximity.
“Because sometimes you need to let Toph think she holds all the cards so she’s a little less of a pain in the ass. And so she wouldn’t question what we really do when we spar,” (Y/N) whispered, opening her eyes and turning to face Zuko. She met his amber gaze immediately, a grin pulling at her mouth as she leaned closer to him, feeling the heat radiating off his body.
“Oh, you mean that thing where you torment me with your comments all day around camp and then try to play innocent when we’re alone?” Zuko huffed with a smile as he wormed his way closer.
“Hey, don’t get mad. I just saw a weakness and used it,” (Y/N) giggled as she leaned in towards him. Her gaze flickered briefly from Zuko’s eyes, to his lips, and then back to his eyes in a way that made him feel like the ground was falling out from under him. He leaned up to meet her halfway, falling just short of being able to seal their lips together. A soft groan from (Y/N) pulled a chuckle from Zuko’s throat, before his head flopped back down onto the packed earth.
“Such a little bastard,” he heard (Y/N) mutter a moment before her face contorted and rumbling from around them was heard.
Zuko’s hands and legs were freed from their earthen prison, letting him roll away only a second before (Y/N) rose up from her hole on a pillar of earth. She hopped down gracefully and brushed her clothes off before helping Zuko to his feet, that wild look back in her eyes.
“You couldn’t have done that earlier?” Zuko asked, brushing the dirt out of his hair.
“I can put you back, if you’d like,” (Y/N) hummed, stepping closer to him and giving him that sharp grin that sent his stomach fluttering.
“I’m fine right here, thank you,” he replied, a deep blush staining his cheeks as (Y/N) pulled him close and finally, finally, pressed her lips to his own in a slow kiss. He returned the kiss eagerly, loving the warmth of her hand cupping his jaw with gritty fingers as the other tangled in Zuko’s mop of hair.
The pillar she’d used to free herself moments before was now scraping against his back as (Y/N) traced a lazy trail of kisses along Zuko’s jaw. He let out a sound that was suspiciously close to a whimper and felt a thrill go up his spine at the glint of absolute trouble reflected in (Y/N)’s eyes when she pulled away.
“How long do you think we have until they realize we’re not stuck anymore?” She pondered, pressing delicate kisses up the side of Zuko’s throat and along the edges of his scar.
“Enough time to get a head start and cover our tracks.” His eyes moved deliberately to the forest away from camp, before flicking back to hers with a bashful quirk of his eyebrow. His breaths trembling, he tried to ignore how his nerve endings were alight with the feeling of (Y/N)’s lips on his skin.
“Very tempting, but I don’t feel like listening to Mother Katara yell at us for ‘running off and worrying the group,’” (Y/N) whispered back, pressing a kiss to Zuko’s chin before moving to pull away. His arms snaked around her waist quickly, locking her against him.
(Y/N)’s brows shot up in pleasant surprise at his actions. She had been the one to make moves from the start, more accustomed to touch that wasn’t soured by pain or anger. Zuko figured she’d like to have more physical affection from him, but the long nights spent untangling his emotions in return for a kiss were enough to keep her happy and moving at his pace. Zuko had been without a loving hand to hold for so long that he forgot how simple and sweet an embrace could be, how the pad of a thumb rubbing across bruised knuckles could soothe his aches better than any balm.
Feeling bold between the column of earth and (Y/N), Zuko leaned down to her height and pressed a gentle kiss against her lips, retreating before she could respond. The girl only grinned widely, wrapping her arms around his muscular torso. A puff of air left Zuko’s lungs as he was pulled into her strong arms, before tightening his own arms around her waist and pressing his face into the crook of her neck.
“We have to at least make Toph think nothing’s changed, or we’ll never hear the end of how she’s so right and it's everyone else who is really blind,” (Y/N) told him, pitching her voice in Toph’s bratty little sister voice she used when she won arguments.
“Let her. I’m tired of not being able to be like this whenever we want,” Zuko replied, his warm breath against the side of her neck sending a wave of goosebumps over (Y/N)’s skin. It shocked her in the most pleasant way possible to hear him say that to her, since they’d agreed to keep things quiet until he could figure out his emotions.
“Alright, but don’t say I didn’t warn you when she makes you wish you were hard of hearing,” (Y/N) laughed, nudging his head back up to face her. Her senses were filled with Zuko, the smell of smoke filling her nose as the heat from his body scorched a pattern into her heart. Their noses brushed once, twice; their lips a breath apart.
Before either could close the distance, Toph marched around their column of rock, almost slamming straight into them. In a breath, she was gone again, back the way she’d come.
“I knew it, I was so right! You losers are so blind!” She shouted to the others.
Her sudden appearance had shocked the pair apart, making (Y/N) quirk an eyebrow and pulling a rare grin from Zuko at the astounding accuracy of (Y/N)’s impression of Toph.
“Just remember, you brought this upon yourself,” (Y/N) laughed, turning to walk back to camp. Zuko’s hand shot out and grabbed her wrist, reeling her back in towards him so he could seal a lingering kiss against her mouth.
“I know, but that was worth it,” he hummed, walking alongside her back to camp, their fingers tangling together without a second thought.
3K notes · View notes
a-dose-of-tuefort · 3 years
Note
How would the mercs react to receiving flowers from their s/o?
This is... a lot longer than I realized oops vkgkksjfkd. I'm on mobile so I cant put it under the cut either 😔 hope you like these tho!!
Trigger warnings: ask to tag
Reader pronouns: they/them
-Scout-
He's a little stunned at first and tries to hide the fact he's a wee bit flustered
Flowers? For him?? You went out of your way to get something for him???
He won't shut up about it and proceeds to brag to everyone that he got flowers from you
Expect to receive extra attention from him, he is now glued to you
He starts teasing you for loving him and getting all sappy
In reality he can't get over the fact that you got him something
If they're real flowers he will want to take care of them and keep them but he can barely take care of a plant and is afriad about killing them
If they're fake then he keeps them in a vase on his desk
He'll go out of his way to give you something in return
-Pyro-
Oh yay flowers!!! He is very happy over this!!
He'll give you one of his world famous hugs and carry you around the rest of the day if you allow him
He'll want to go and pick his own flowers for you and he'll make a flower crown for you to wear!
He's really happy that you got him flowers, flowers are on his list of his top ten favorite things!!
If they're real flowers he'll do his best to take care of them and water them and give them the best fertilizer
No need to worry, he wouldn't dare burn anything that you got him
You'll probably catch him just staring at the flowers in awe every now and then
-Soldier-
He's not used to soft and sweet stuff like getting or receiving flowers so he'll probably check if anyone else is around before pulling you in for a quick hug
He doesn't really know how to take care of plants but he'll make sure to put it somewhere his raccoons couldn't mess with it
He will want to get you something in return but he doesn't know what to get you
He'll probably give you something that means a lot to him, like one of his favorite buckets or such
He loves it more than he knows how to express
If anyone questions why he has flowers he will completely own the fact that you got him the flowers
-Demoman-
He's absolutely touched by it and can and will pepper you in kisses for it
He will tell you all the different little things he likes about the flower like the colors and the shape of the petals
If they're real flowers then he manages to keep them alive but isn't truly quite good with plants
He'll probabaly decorate the pot or vase that the flowers are in
He'd probably do that thing where if no one is around he'll sometimes talk to the plant
He's probably a little flustered when you first give him the flowers and he gets a little blushy over it
He will probably continue to thank you for the next day or so
-Heavy-
Heavy has never seen a lot of flowers since he was in Russia for a while and the base is in the middle of no where
He definitely makes sure to take the best care of the flowers that he can
Since the base isn't too lively in color it's rather nice to have something that stands out a little
When you gift him the flowers he makes sure to hold them as carefully as possible and makes sure to tell you how much he loves them and you
If anyone questions why he has dainty little flowers he might get a little embarrassed, but is prideful in the fact that you got them for him
He keeps a watering can right next to the flowers and gives it clean water on the daily
He isn't the best at first for taking care of the flowers since he's not used to plants, but he gets the hang of it pretty quickly
-Engineer-
He is truly flattered
He'll put the flowers in a vase and keep it on his desk where he does most of his work so he can see it whenever he'd like
He probably bought some ribbon and wrapped it around the vase like a bow
He knows what he's doin when it comes to taking care of flowers so they end up lasting for a long while
He will sometimes get a little distracted staring at the flowers that you got him
He'd probably want to get you something in return like a necklace or such that you can keep
Turns out Engi is a lowkey floral guy and he didn't realize this until you got him flowers
He's a little bashful about it but he makes sure that he properly thanks you for the gift
-Medic-
He is surprised at first that you would get him such a thing
He is a little speachless but once he finally finds his wording his pretty happy and promises to take good care of the flowers
He makes sure to keep them somewhere that his doves wouldn't try messing with them
He also creates some special flower juice to ensure that the flowers live for well..much longer than flowers normally should
He tests out the flower juice on other plants first because he doesn't want to mess up the ones that you got him
He likes the flowers and thinks they lighten up his room a little bit!
He has little time periods in his schedule where he makes sure to check on the flowers
-Sniper-
Flowers? For him? He's very bashful about it and definitely gets flustered
He tries to hide the fact that he's a little giddy about it
He almost immediately runs off with them to go and find a special place to set them and ends up putting the flowers right on his windowsill
He's very good at taking care of plants and the flowers are very much thriving
He likes to tell you and keep you updated on how well the flowers are doing
He also likes to talk to the flower in his free time, he believes it'll help it grow
He's extra delicate with the flowers, not wanting to hurt it or accidnelty tear a petal or leaf on it
-Spy-
He's very flattered by the romantic gesture
He shows his thanks by getting you somethin in return, perhaps a box of expensive chocolates or such
He gets only the highest quality of soil and special water for the flowers
He has a whole little area for the flowers with a nice vase and its resting in a doily
He doesn't trust anyone else (asides from you ofc) to take care of the flowers
He has an odd liking towards flowers so he really likes the gift
He'll probably give you extra kisses just because
61 notes · View notes
ficsforeren · 3 years
Note
This is so off topic to the tls talk, but I love how your blog just feels like one big group chat for Eren simps. I’ve never seen a writer so happy and genuinely interested in what their readers think, or even just to interact with the random Eren related content we send you. I feel like a lot of writers that have blown up for Eren fics act a little weird, uh I’m not sure how to explain it, I mean it’s valid sometimes considering the way this fandom harasses authors. I don’t really know what I’m trying to say lol, you’re just really great and I appreciate that.
As much as I want TLS to go viral and get the credit it deserves I kind of love that it’s like a little gem on tumblr, your readers really get to enjoy it without a mass amount of people here to ruin it. And it’s also not a fic that we’re reading just because it’s so overly hyped, this is genuinely good content. ALSO, THE EXTRA THICCC AND JUICY CHAPTERS 😩 I binged this fic when you were on chapter 8 I think and I was hooked from the first chapter, I never would’ve imagined a fic this detailed to be updated so frequently. I already told you how this fic feels a little personal to me, but you always have me feeling absolutely every emotion you write about, I love getting tingles at the little romance scenes. Btw your absolutely insane in the best way for writing 30k for the last chapter.💀
You are absolutely incredible, I genuinely believe you can do no wrong with your writing (I hope this is somewhat reassuring since you seem a little stressed about the ending), but I really mean it. Idk what you do for a living but if you aren’t perusing writing as an actual career I definitely think you should. PRINT TLS AND I WILL LITERALLY BUY IT NO JOKE! I’m so bad with words lol I feel like I can’t explain how much I adore you as a writer and a person 😭 Your fics are such a great distraction for me and I really appreciate them, I just really hope outside of your blog you’re happy and living a great life, you deserve it.❤️
Idk if you get hate or have any toxic readers but I just think you should know your work is appreciated. I didn’t mean for this to get so sappy oops😗 love you tho
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oh no... you're gonna make me cry again
HERE COMES THE TEARS ASKDLFLDFMASD
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honestly every time i see you in my inbox, i get so happy and excited because your messages are always so sweet and supportive, like omg girl, you don't know just how much your words mean to me. i always go back and read your messages again and again when i need to find some motivations to write. i've been having a hard time writing chapter 15 and the epilogue because I'm trying my best to meet your expectation but every time i re-read the stuff i wrote i'm like... man, i don't think this is good enough but i don't know what else i have to do to improve it 😭writing makes me happy but sometimes it can get a bit frustrating you know? i always feel like i have this wonderful scene i want to write in my head but when i put it down into words, it feels... meh. my vocabulary is limited, sometimes i know how to describe it my native language but i don't know how to write it beautifully in english. i lack imagination too and i keep repeating the same formula and sometimes it's just AARRGHHHH
i think it's because of that time when i wrote my first fanfic in EXO fandom. there was this one person i found on twitter who legit made a thread to make fun about my writings. my fic had almost 650,000 views and more than 28k subscribers so it was... pretty popular, i guess, at that time (personally i don't think so and i don't understand why it got recommended a lot by people). so this person made a thread and she was like, "can't believe people actually read this bullshit. i bet a thirteen years-old girl wrote it." and that... really hurt me. and i stopped writing for a while, i was so scared of being made fun of again. i guess that's what makes me feel so insecure about my writings, even to this day, so i'm very happy when people compliment me on my writings. and not just my writing, but also the effort i put into it. it makes me feel so appreciated so thank you so much 😭😭😭
and i think i'm just really lucky to have you guys as my readers. i only have 1.5k followers for this sideblog but all of you are so nice and you always give me feedbacks every time i posted a new chapter and that means A LOT to me. it keeps me motivated to write more and more. i don't mind if my chapter only gets a few notes, as long as i can hear your feedbacks and reviews.
thank you for existing, each and every one of you. i love you guys so much and i hope i can always make you guys happy with my stories.
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superfreakerz · 3 years
Text
IJR 3
“It’s Just Research”
Rated M for smut.
Summary: AU. After having her smut-filled story criticized for being amateurish, Lucy decides once and for all it’s time to gain some experience in the world of sex. Her best friend, Natsu, agrees to help her with her research. Together, the two explore each other’s bodies, all the while denying their feelings for each other and insisting that they are just doing research.
Read earlier chapters on FF.net
Chapter 3
The Art of Seduction
“And then I told him to leave me alone. I mean seriously, Lu-chan, why are boys so infuriating? It’s like, I love Gajeel and all, but he can seriously get on my nerves!”
“Mhmm.”
“Like, how hard is it to say something nice every once in a while instead of making fun of me?”
“Mhmm.”
“Lu-chan? Are you even listening to me?”
“Mhmm.”
Lucy jumped in her seat as Levy’s hand waved in front of her face. With an apologetic grin, the blonde rubbed the back of her head. 
“Sorry, Levy-chan. What were you saying?” she asked.
Levy arched a brow at her. “Okay, what’s on your mind, Lu-chan? You’ve been zoning out this whole time. You haven’t even taken a sip of your smoothie yet!”
Lucy sighed, dragging her fingertip across the side of her plastic cup. Sure enough, the drink was no longer cold as she had been too busy daydreaming. 
She and Levy had agreed to grab smoothies at their favorite shop after the latter got into an argument with her boyfriend. Grabbing smoothies was their go-to ritual whenever they had to vent about someone, wanted to catch up, or just needed a dose of fruity deliciousness. Needless to say, they were there at least once a week.
“I’ve just been a little distracted lately,” Lucy answered, taking a long sip of her smoothie. Her face scrunched in disgust as the flavors no longer popped and the foam from the now old smoothie was all that came through the straw. 
“Oh yeah, how’s that guy you’ve been seeing?” Levy asked, leaning forward in interest. “By the way, are you ever going to tell me who he is?”
Lucy’s cheeks pinked, her eyes darting away from her curious friend. “Sorry, can’t tell you. It’s confidential information.”
Levy squinted her eyes at the girl, giving her a look the blonde couldn’t read.
Sighing, Levy replied, “Fine. Well how are things going between you guys? You said you would be willing to…” She looked around before leaning closer and whispering, “Have sex again. Did you ever do it?”
Lucy puffed out her cheeks in a pout. “That’s the thing! I talked to him about it and he agreed! But since then, we never brought it up again. Things aren’t awkward between us or anything, but I don’t know how to initiate it. It’s too embarrassing to just ask for it!”
“Well when are you seeing him again?”
“Later tonight. We’re supposed to watch a movie together.”
“That’s easy!”
Lucy tilted her head to the side, her brows raised. “What do you mean?”
Levy grinned. “All you have to do is make him make the first move!”
“How am I supposed to do that?” 
“It’ll be so easy, Lu-chan, I promise. All you have to do is show off your body a little more and maybe run your hand over his bicep. That should do the trick.”
“I don’t think so,” Lucy said skeptically. “He’s a little dense. I don’t think he would pick up on that.”
Levy stared at her for a moment before nodding. “Well in that case, we’ll pull every trick out of the book!”
“Trick?”
Levy gave a mischievous grin, one that was rare to see on her face if you weren’t close with her. “Okay, here’s what you’re going to do…”
Lucy stared at herself in the mirror, a skeptical frown on her face as she glanced over her outfit. Her black pleated skirt was incredibly short, sure to show off her bum with a gust of wind. The red shirt she wore was tight around her body, especially around her chest. Its neckline wasn’t particularly as low as some of the other shirts she owned, but it still showed off a good amount of cleavage. 
Pulling some thigh-high socks out of her dresser, she heaved them on before sliding her feet into some heeled boots. Standing back in front of the mirror, she tousled her hair a bit, just as Levy had instructed her to. 
Lucy wondered if this outfit would be good enough to seduce Natsu with. Her skirt wasn’t the shortest she owned, and she had plenty of other shirts to choose from that showed off her chest more, one pink shirt immediately coming to mind. But according to Levy, she should wear red. Apparently red put people in the mood. She didn’t know where Levy got that information from, but she trusted her enough to go with it. 
Glancing at the clock, Lucy quickly grabbed her purse. Natsu should be barging through her window at any moment, and she needed to make sure she had everything Levy instructed her to bring. She grabbed a lollipop from the Halloween candy she bought and with rosy cheeks, stuffed it into her purse. She hoped it wouldn’t come down to using that. That was just embarrassing. 
A gust of wind washed over Lucy’s back. She didn’t need to turn around to know that it was Natsu breaking in as always. Her heart started to beat faster, electricity jolting through her veins as she readied herself for tonight’s plan. Swallowing thickly, the girl turned to face him with a smile. 
“Hi, Natsu!” she greeted. Levy’s advice played in her head. 
“You should discreetly show off your body.”
Lucy nervously ran a hand through her hair before clasping her hands together at her thighs, causing her arms to squish her breasts together. 
“L-Lets go get dinner!” she exclaimed, hoping that her actions weren’t too transparent.
Natsu didn’t seem to notice the action- or her outfit- at all, which admittedly stung. “Okay! You’re buying!”
Lucy groaned before leading the way out of her apartment. 
They went to a local Italian bistro, which was close enough to Lucy’s apartment that they could walk- which was a good thing since Natsu’s motion sickness would’ve turned them both off. They were quickly led to a table and left with menus. After having a moment to look over the menus, they ordered their food. 
Once it arrived, Lucy looked down at her plate of seafood Alfredo and gulped. It was time for phase two of her plan. 
“Go out to dinner and moan while you eat. It’ll definitely get him in the mood!”
As Natsu practically inhaled his food like a wild beast, Lucy twirled some noodles on her fork before putting it in her mouth. Closing her eyes, she moaned, all the while trying to snuff out any embarrassment she felt. When she opened her eyes, she found Natsu staring at her.
“Is it working?” she wondered, excitement bundling in her stomach. She watched Natsu open his mouth to say something, then close it. 
“What is it?” Lucy asked, hoping she didn’t sound too eager. “Say it.”
“Well okay,” Natsu replied, rubbing the back of his head. Pointing to her food, he asked, “Can I have some?”
Lucy deadpanned. “What?”
“Can I have some?” Natsu repeated, his lips curling into a grin. “You made it sound like it was really good! I wanna try!”
Frustrated, Lucy pulled her plate closer to her with a huff. “Eat your own damn food!”
After dinner, Lucy was starting to feel deflated. Not only did her outfit not catch his attention, but her provocative movements and sultry moans didn’t work either. But she wasn’t done yet! She still had plenty of tricks up her sleeve thanks to Levy! And it was time to put her next plan to action. 
This plan luckily had two parts, so that if the first one failed, she had another one lined up. Reaching into her purse, Lucy pulled out the lollipop she packed earlier. Glancing towards Natsu to make sure he wasn’t watching, she pretended to drop it onto the ground. 
“Wear a short dress or skirt, then drop something. When you go to pick it up, he’ll stare at your butt. That should turn him on!”
The two stopped walking, Natsu arching a brow at the girl. 
“Oops,” Lucy said. “Let me just pick that up real quick!”
Making sure to arch her back as she bent down, she picked up the lollipop. She moved slowly, giving him more time to stare at her bum. Sure that she had it in the bag, she stood back up and turned to face him. 
Natsu stared at her, crossing his arms behind his head. 
Then he gave her a grin. 
“You’re clumsy, Luce!” he exclaimed with a laugh. 
Lucy huffed to herself, glancing at the lollipop. She didn’t want to have to resort to this part of the plan, but desperate times called for desperate measures. 
As the two continued their walk home, Lucy unwrapped the lollipop. 
“If none of that works, lick the lollipop and make it look sexy!”
Lucy slowly dragged her tongue over the lollipop before sucking on it. Releasing it with a pop, she began to twist her tongue over the candy. Seeing as how Natsu’s expression didn’t change, she added in her tactic from earlier. As embarrassing as it was, she moaned while licking the damn lollipop. 
And yet, nothing. 
Natsu’s face was a blank slate. 
When they arrived at Lucy’s apartment, she went straight into the bedroom with a huff. Angrily changing into some short pajama shirts and a loose, spaghetti strap tank top, she met Natsu back in the living room. He was setting up a movie on the couch. 
“What kinda movie do ya wanna watch? It’s your turn to choose,” Natsu said. 
“Horror!” Lucy replied immediately. 
“When you guys watch a movie, make sure it’s a scary one. That way when you’re scared, you can throw your arms around him and get closer to him! And make sure to sit close to him! And keep scooting your butt on him! There’s no way in hell he can resist that!”
Natsu eyed her. “Horror? You never choose horror. You always wanna watch those sappy movies.” 
“It’s called romance,” Lucy replied, sitting next to him on the couch. She made sure to sit so close to him that their thighs were flushed together and her bum was slightly on him. “Now, just choose one already.”
This was Lucy’s last plan, and she’d be damned if she failed. 
As the movie started playing, Lucy squirmed in her seat, pretending that she was trying to get comfortable while rubbing her bum on his thigh. She peeked at Natsu in the corner of her eye to see if it was working, but he was engrossed in the movie. 
When a scary part of the movie popped up, Lucy squealed and latched onto Natsu, squeezing his arm between her breasts. 
And still, nothing. 
That was it. She was all out of tricks. 
Huffing, Lucy pulled her arms off of him. She couldn’t believe that after all that, she couldn’t even get him to look at her. Was she not appealing at all? Was the sex not good enough last time to make him interested? Had he changed his mind since they last talked about it?
With a sigh, Lucy went to move away from him when his arm wrapped around her waist, warm hand gripping her side. She stilled, heat traveling through her body from the simple touch. 
“Hey, Lucy,” Natsu started, his eyes still locked to the TV, “I don’t know if you still wanna do this whole friends with benefits thing, but I would be down to help you do some research right now.”
Lucy blushed, her stomach coiling with excitement. “O-Oh?”
“Yeah. I’ve been wanting to all day, but I didn’t know if you still wanted to or not.”
“I do!” She nearly face-palmed with how desperate she sounded.
Natsu finally turned to face her. It was then that Lucy saw the lust that glinted in his dark orbs. 
Lucy’s heart leapt up into her throat as Natsu scooted closer to her, his face just centimeters away from hers. She watched as his eyes began to droop closed. He cupped the back of her head, slowly bringing her close. 
A knot grew in her stomach as Natsu’s lips grazed hers. Her body felt like it was being sent over the edge, every sense heightened. 
As Natsu deepened the kiss, Lucy wasted no time in repositioning herself on his lap. Thanks to the thin, silk shorts she was wearing, it wasn’t hard to feel the bulge beneath her. Her body moved on its own, hips grinding to create glorious friction. He gripped her hips while tugging on her lower lip with his teeth. A soft growl resonated in his throat. 
“Let’s take this to your bed,” he whispered. 
Lucy ignored him, sinking her lips over his neck as he carried her towards the bedroom. He plopped her on the bed before tearing his clothes off. She went to take off her tank top when his hand grabbed hers. 
“I wanna do it,” he said with an eager grin. 
Lucy nodded. “Alright just hurry.”
Natsu chuckled. “Someone’s a little impatient, huh?”
“Natsu, if you don’t put your hands on me in the next second, I’m going to-!”
Before she could even finish her threat, Natsu tore her tank top off in a flash. 
“There, happy now?” he asked with a smirk.
Lucy snaked her arms around his neck and pulled him in for a kiss. “Very. Now let’s do this thing already.”
“Don’t need to tell me twice!”
He caged her beneath him, washing his lips over her neck. His hand slid over her breast, kneading the flesh. He teased her nipple, having learned last time that the nubs were sensitive. 
Lucy arched her back into his touch. She could feel the knot in her stomach grow as each second passed. 
He lowered himself onto her, his hot shaft sliding between her folds. As he pushed himself inside, she wrapped her legs around her torso and brought him in deeper. 
Natsu let out a shaky breath. He clenched tightly onto the bed sheets, trying to rein in his body's urges. He moved slowly at first to warm up, moving around in circles. As he tried to pull out, her walls clung tightly to his shaft, tugging on the sensitive skin. 
Lucy’s breath picked up as he started to go pound into her. Gripping his biceps, she tried to keep herself in place as he thrusted harder and harder. Her stomach coiled, the pleasure building up. She could feel herself nearing climax. 
“N-Natsu,” she breathed out, weakly tapping his arm. 
He pulled his head back to look at her but kept pushing inside of her. “What? Does it not feel good?”
“It’s not that, it f-feels amazing.” A moan slipped past her lips as he hit a particularly sensitive spot. “I-It’s just that I want to try something new.”
Natsu slowed his movements, moving in slow circles. Lucy gnawed on her lower lip. She didn’t know that moving slowly was just as good as moving fast. 
“I-I want to be on top,” she said, her voice breathy. 
Natsu finally stopped, which Lucy was part thankful and part disappointed for. 
“Okay,” he replied, getting off of her. He couldn’t keep the smile off his face as he eagerly laid on the bed, watching Lucy position herself on top of him. 
Lucy inhaled sharply as his shaft sank deep inside of her as she lowered herself over him. Once it was as deep as she could get it, she slowly rocked herself back and forth. 
Natsu groaned, his hands gripping her thighs. It was hard to keep his eyes open while the pleasure began to skyrocket, but he just had to get a good look at Lucy. Her hair was messy, her eyes squeezed shut. Her head hung back as she grinded against him, her mouth hanging open. He moved his eyes down to her breasts. They bounced with each rock against him. 
One thing he knew for sure, he loved watching Lucy ride him. 
Meanwhile, Lucy was in pure ecstasy. This new position allowed his cock to reach deeper than before. Moving her body in a circular motion, she could feel herself edging closer to climax. Wanting to experiment on herself a bit, she brought her hands up to her breasts and began to message herself. 
Natsu’s gut coiled as he watched Lucy fondle herself. Unable to help himself, he moved his hands onto her hips and moved her roughly over him. A breathy moan escaped Lucy’s lips and before she knew it, she was shaking with pleasure, his name slipping out of her mouth. Seeing her finish while riding him was enough for Natsu to break. He moaned, clenching onto her silky hips while pleasure shot out of him. When they could no longer move, Lucy collapsed beside him in pants. 
“Oh wow,” she breathed out. “That was even better than last time.”
Natsu nodded, still trying to catch his breath. As he laid there, he wondered how he got so lucky to be able to be the only person to see Lucy this way. To see her face flushed with heat, sweat glistening on her body. To hear her scream his name. He must’ve done something right in his past life to be able to have earned this privilege.
“Alright, I’m going to go take a shower now,” Lucy said, bringing him out of his thoughts and walking towards the bathroom. 
“Oh, I’ll join you.” 
The girl stopped in her tracks, whirling around to face him. “Umm, what?”
Natsu shrugged, giving her a look as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “What?”
Lucy blushed madly. “Y-You can’t shower with me, idiot!”
“Luce, hate to break it to ya, but what we just did together is a hell of a lot more intimate than taking a shower.”
“No it isn’t!”
Natsu rolled his eyes. “Fine, then I’ll take one after you. I don’t wanna walk home like this.” 
Lucy nodded. “That’s fine. I’ll make it quick.”
He plopped on the bed. “Uh-huh, sure you will.” He frowned when he heard the door click behind her. If that wasn’t enough to remind him that she didn’t feel the same as him, he didn’t know what was. 
After Lucy’s shower- which was quite long despite her promise of keeping it quick- he headed in right after her. The water pelted his back as he thought long and hard about the situation he was in. On the one hand, it was great to be able to have sex with Lucy. Glorious. On the other, it only made his feelings for her stronger. He wasn’t sure how he would hold up when she eventually decided to end things. Would he truly be able to bounce back? Would he go back to playing the role of best friend? 
He was always there to listen to her vent after her failed dates. He was there for her whenever she had crushes on other boys. He listened and waited, hoping that one day she would look at him in such light. Now was his only chance to change her perception of him. He didn’t want to just be her friend anymore. He wanted to be the one to take her on dates. He wanted to be the one that she gushed about to her friends. He wanted all of her. 
After finishing his shower, Natsu turned off the faucet and quickly dried off. Having spent many nights at Lucy’s apartment, the boy already had spare clothes to change into. Heading back to the bedroom, he found Lucy laying in bed, scrolling on her phone. He jumped into bed beside her. 
“What do you think you’re doing?” she asked, giving him a pointed stare. 
Natsu gave her a cheeky grin. “Eh, walking home now would be a pain in the ass. C’mon, let me stay here.”
Lucy rolled her eyes but didn’t protest, which was usually how that conversation went. Once Natsu decided he was sleeping over, there was no changing his mind. Besides, she liked the company. 
“Whatcha watching?” Natsu asked, scooting closer to the phone. 
Lucy lifted her head and rested it on his arm. She knew it might’ve been perceived as intimate by others, but this was just how she and Natsu were. 
“Just a new dance trend going around.”
He laughed. “You should do that!”
“Why? So you can make fun of me?”
“Yep!”
She nudged him before playing the next video. Over time, her eyes grew heavy. She placed her phone on the nightstand and turned towards him, her head still resting on his arm. 
“I’m going to bed now,” Lucy said with a yawn. 
Natsu brushed a stray lock of hair out of her face. “Alright. Night, Lucy.”
“Goodnight, Natsu.”
And together they slept in their usual position, more than friends but less than lovers.
44 notes · View notes
lyricalporcupine · 3 years
Note
Talking about how much they love the other to friends/family pls 😊
Here ya go! I did both Yasha and Beau and there is a time skip. I also got carried away with Beau’s part so oops lmao
~~~
“You’re such a fucking sap,” Molly cajoled.
Yasha smirked and shoved her friend, causing him to stumble a bit on the street. He laughed as he regained his balance and turned around to face Yasha, walking backwards without regard to the other people.
“It’s true, darling,” he drawled with his own smirk.
Yasha felt herself flush and knew her face was red to the tips of her pointed ears. “She makes me happy,” Yasha said simply with a shrug and soft smile.
“Ugh,” Molly exclaimed, turning with a flourish that allowed Yasha close the small distance between them to allow them to walk side by side again. “Why?”
Yasha’s soft smile grew. “She’s strong. She’s really funny. She’s smart as hell. She’s honest,” Yasha said with a chuckle, “even if it hurts.”
“She’s an asshole,” Molly countered, to which Yasha laughed.
“I like that she’s an asshole,” Yasha said with a shrug.
Molly smirked at her. “You would.”
Yasha bumped his shoulder and he bumped hers in return.
“Anything else,” Molly asked after a few moments. “What else attracts you to the grumpy one?”
Yasha was silent for a while, hands shoved into her coat pockets. She was quiet for so long that Molly figured she wasn’t going to answer. But then, softly, Yasha said, “She makes me feel safe.”
Molly stared up at his friend. He knew exactly what that meant for her and how important it was. He finally realized that, to Yasha, Beau meant something so precious to her. Something Yasha had been looking for for years that Molly himself had tried to give her. Beau, to Yasha, meant home.
He huffed, his breath drifting up in front of him as steam in the cold air. He linked his arm through Yasha’s and pushed into her side. “You love her.” It wasn’t a question.
Yasha gave a small nod. “So much.”
Molly heaved a dramatic sigh. “Does this mean I can’t tease her anymore,” he asked with a pout.
Yasha chuffed. “She’d probably think you were sick if you didn’t bicker.”
“Well I am all about keeping up appearances,” he said with a self important sniffle.
Yasha laughed outright. “You’re an asshole,”’she said with all the affection she could muster for the tiefling. Which was quite a lot.
“Yes, I am,” he agreed happily. Then he smiled up at her. “But you like assholes. Remember?”
Yasha smirked down at him before kissing him on his horn. “Yes, I do.”
~~~~~~
It was a rare event that Beau visited her parents. She hated doing it, mostly because of her father. But she went, at least once a month, just to see TJ. Beau’s disdain for her parents wasn’t his fault and Beau hoped, that by spending time with him that he wouldn’t pick up their shitty attitude. As the years trudged on, TJ, thankfully, didn’t seem to be anything like their father.
Instead, much to their parents’ chagrin, TJ had instead picked up his sister’s mannerisms, quick wit, and snark. And as a pre-teen, it was only getting worse. Or better, if you asked Beau, who encouraged him.
Despite this, their parents would allow TJ to visit his sister for a week or so, mainly during the summer while school was out. He’d pack a bag and all but run to her car when she showed up and throw himself at her.
Now they sat on the floor of Beau and Yasha’s living room, playing a racing game TJ brought with him. They were neck and neck, tied in their wins. This was the last race and as
Beau was poised for a victory, Yasha walked out of the bedroom and kissed the top of Beau’s head, which caused her to completely forget the game and crash into a wall as she turned her attention to her fiancé.
“I’m meeting Molly,” she said as she checked her purse. Yasha wore a sun dress, something she didn’t often wear, and turned to smile at Beau and TJ when he turned to look at her after crossing the finish line. “I’ll be back later. I was thinking burgers for dinner?”
TJ’s face lit up. “And milkshakes,” he asked hopefully.
Yasha smiled and walked over to ruffle his slightly curly and very shaggy hair. “Only if you let Beau win,” Yasha teased.
“Oh, nevermind then,” he said and turned back to the tv.
“You little asshole,” Beau said with a laugh.
“Beau!”
“What,” Beau asked defensively. “He knows I’m kidding!”
“I know she’s kidding,” TJ echoed.
Yasha sighed and bent to kiss Beau. “Behave,” she said as she headed for the door.
An echo of “No!” followed her out the door.
Beau and TJ smiled at each other as he picked a new game and Beau set her controller aside, content to watch him play.
“Dad says you’re engaged,” TJ said as he got up and shuffled through his games. He looked over at Beau as she relocated to the couch.
“Yuppers,” she replied. “I was gonna talk to you about that, actually.” She smiled at him and asked, “Want to be a ring bearer?”
“I can’t be your best man,” he asked with a grin.
Beau laughed and raised up her arm, flattening her hand, palm down. “Sorry, you gotta be be at least this tall.”
He glared and flipped her off. She only laughed harder which caused him to smile. “Sure, I can be a ring bearer.”
“Excellent,” Beau said. “Yasha will be thrilled I finally asked.”
“When’s the wedding,” he asked as he finished picking a game and came to sit beside his sister, picking up his controller on the way.
“Next fall,” Beau answered. “Yasha likes the colors.”
“Neat,” TJ replied. “You and Yasha have been together a long time.”
Beau chuckled. “You sound like my friends. They think it’s overdue.”
TJ shrugged. “Maybe they’re right.”
Beau shrugged back. “Eh, we got there in the end. All that matters.”
“You inviting Dad,” TJ asked.
“Well if you and Mom are gonna be there, kinda have to invite the old man, too,” Beau said.
“I could accidentally on purpose break his leg so he has to stay home,” TJ offered.
Beau laughed. “Then you and Mom would have to stay home and take care of him.” She gave him a sideways smile. “Thanks for the offer, though, little brother.”
“Anytime,” he said with a laugh. “So, who asked who?”
Beau smiled and flashed her left hand and waggled her fingers until TJ turned to look at the small blue diamond on her ring finger. “She did.”
TJ looked at the ring then up at is sister. “She has poor taste.”
Beau’s mood fell a bit. “Like you’re some ring expert.”
“Not the ring,” he said. “You.”
Beau made a squawking noise and shoved TJ’s shoulder. “Fuck you!”
He laughed as he fell onto his side. “Fuck you, back!” He never paused in his game.
TJ eventually sat back and smiled. “So,how did you know?”
“How did I know what,” Beau asked.
“How did you know she was ‘the one,’” he asked, laying his controller down to air quote.
Beau smirked. “Really want to know? It’s sappy shit.”
TJ shrugged. “I mean. I did ask.”
“Fair.” Beau repositioned herself and draped her leg over the couch arm. “I always thought she was hot, ya know?”
“She is very pretty,” TJ cut in.
Beau smirked. “I’ll be sure to tell her you said that.”
TJ whipped around to face Beau, his dark skin turning darker with a blush. “Don’t you fucking dare!”
Beau laughed and gently nudged him. “Don’t be a shit and maybe I won’t.” TJ pouted at her and Beau laughed harder. “Anyway. She’s always been hot. And she’s sweet as hell. A literal fucking angel, ya know?”
TJ was nodded like he did, in fact, know.
“But there was a moment, so fucking small, that sealed the deal,” Beau said with a dreamy sigh.
“What was it,” TJ asked, finally pausing his game and turned to Beau, wholly focused on her and the story now.
“We’d been dating for a few months,” Beau continued. “And while out doing some errands, we decided, on a whim, to stop at this antiques store. Nothing there caught my eye,” Beau said before quickly standing and heading over to a bookshelf next to the tv. It held books, of course, but also a few knick knacks. Beau reached for a small clay figurine of a dog, one of a set of five, and turned back to TJ.
“She bought this set of dog figures,” Beau said, a dopey grin on her face. “She had been so excited to have found them. As excited as if they’d been real dogs.” Still holding the figure, Beau walked back over to the couch and sat down and handed the dog to TJ to look at. “You don’t really remember, cause you were still pretty little, but Yasha used to be really standoffish. She was quiet and didn’t talk much.” Beau smiled at her brother. “You fell in love with her immediately, nearly forgetting all about me when we came to visit.”
TJ blushed at Beau’s words.
Beau smiled warmly at him. “That was one of the first times she really came out of her shell.” Beau’s eyes slid shut as she recalled the memory, a large grin on her face. “She was so beautiful in that moment.” Beau’s eyes opened but she didn’t seem to really see TJ in front of her, still lost in her memories. Then she blinked and her eyes focused. “It was one of the cutest fucking things I’d ever seen. The way she lit up, little brother. Brighter than the sun.
“That’s when I knew I would spend the rest of my life with her.”
She smiled at her brother, who simply stared back. He finally handed back the clay dog and nodded. “You were right.”
Beau took the figure and cradled it to her chest. “About what?”
“It really was sappy shit.” Then he smiled at her.
Beau launched from her spot and tackled him, lightly pinching his shoulder as she sat on him.
They eventually came apart, laughing and sweaty from their tussle. Beau put the figure back on the shelf, grateful it didn’t break, and sat back on the couch. TJ went back to his game and they were content in their silence.
Finally TJ said, “I’m really happy you have Yasha. And I’m happy she has you, too.”
Bea smiled and ruffled TJ’s hair. “And I’m happy you’re here, too. We both love you.”
“Ugh,” TJ groaned. “Stop.”
Beau laughed and turned back towards the tv, happy with how her life had shaped up to be.
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