#this was just a whole barf of words I started forgetting how to talk and it took so long to talk aboiy this i forgot whatever i wanted to- | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rikilouvre · 2 years

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pairing · enhypen lee heeseung! reader's bsf & implied female reader ( use of she/her, ms. )

word count · 5k

summary · pulled by your bestfriend heeseung in a generic college year-end party, your introverted self couldn't even start a conversation with anyone. and because of that, your daily mission was to meddle heeseung 'til hometime. pretty simple and easy, right?

notes · slight angst, college romance, typical bestfriend falls for bestfriend trope but with alcohol, mentions of vomit (i'm emetophobic too lol i have no idea why i added this), alcohol, profanities, r-16, heeseung is an implied misogynist in some parts, other enhypen members mentioned, heeseung's pov (continuation) will be posted as soon as i can :) + maknae line's pov, interactions especially reblogs would be very much appreciated. + important note : i have no idea how beerpong works since it's not really smth we do usually. so please correct me and my knowledge from google if ever i got the mechanics wrong. ++ the end was a bit rushed, i wanna post this 'cause i'm so excited.

playlist · [ wish you were sober · lhs ♡ ]

[ maknaes' pov | next (heeseung's pov) ]

heeseung pushes the doorbell button, "are you gonna be good?" he sticks his palm on the brick wall beside the door with the other hand in his pocket. "seung, you could've asked me that before picking me up." the lack of emotions in your tone made him think of what you were trying to imply, so he cocks his head sideways and stared at you for mere seconds before you sighed. "forget what i said. this could be an experience for me, too." you gave him a warm smile before you receive one back. heeseung puts his hand up for you to high-five, clasping your hand on his and holding it tight. the cold wind of the evening night made things feel so magical.

you felt so lucky too since the one you're holding hands with is a school heartthrob. not to mention that you feel spoiled since you have this hidden feelings for him that rush to your cheeks and whole system everytime he comes near you, gives you food from the vending machine everytime he has the chance to, he's just a good bestfriend.

thinking of all of those though, will always make your mind drift to the part where he knows nothing about your romantic love for him. leaving you to so many risky moments of getting caught lacking by him and you would have to often distance yourself since it hurts your swelling heart with jealousy, hatred, and pain whenever he talks about girls he's interested in — girls with banks full of money, girls with chanel bags and sunglasses, girls with everything that you don't possess — and he talks about a different one everyday. he has his good and bad sides, and it just drives you crazy by how he doesn't see you as a potential girlfriend since you're the only girl who knows him best — who knows his favorite ramyeon or when was the last time he cried — since you've been the one there for him afterall. it always feels like you've won, but at what cost?

wow, this party is shit. your mind wanders throughout the trims of the walls of the house, yeah it's a typical suburban homey house but stink is gonna kill you. not exactly you, but your nose. you haven't any idea where it's coming from but it's definitely barf, from the window? no, maybe from the sofa? you stood nearer the sofa to idly sniff the surrounding air, yup. it is from the sofa. you immediately stepped 10 steps away from it and now you're standing beside the tv with your hands clasped infront of your frame. you're nauseous but also felt like it's ridiculous by how someone already managed to soil the sofa with thrown-up beer and food. were they that desperate for alcohol? you continued to observe the furnishes — family photos, dried-up and neglected table plants, not-so-many people for a club but too many people for a house party, and was that an underwear on the groun–

you heard heeseung call your name in a distance, "what are you doing there, silly?" jogging towards you and chuckling at your sight that's visibly showing your nature, eyeing the furnitures like a freak. he grabbed your hand and pulled you towards the punch section. "here, try this." he offered you a red cup with liquid in it — blue in color with loads of ice cubes. you took a lil sniff on the drink and was like, it smells good? "it's just blue lemonade juice and a bit of gin." heeseung patted your shoulder to continue, "don't consume it all in one-go, though. you don't want to end up like jake right there." he gestured in the living room, jake was pogo-rocking on the floor wearing a snapback and sunglasses from the dollar tree. party-people were either hyping him up, laughing at him, staring at him, filming him with their phones, or offering him another cup of the punch. you were on the grip, a fight between life and death where you'll die if you laugh at jake. when heeseung noticed you, he bursted out in laughter for you to join in, "don't be afraid to laugh at him. he loves attention now, don't he?" sharing a moment with heeseung about this topic is the most unexpected thing to witness tonight. you thought he was just gonna drink with his friends and bring you with him for the sake of calling you his 'bestfriend'. and this is also where you realize his hand never left your shoulder. in-fact, he only gripped you tighter. "...cheers?" his red cup in his hand, raising to clink drinks with you. you gave him a sheepish smile before raising your cup as well.

just in cue before things get awkward, someone opened the door with a red cup occupying his left hand, "hyung!" heeseung's friend, jake, as you remember, invites heeseung with his open arms for a bro-hug — patting each other's back from the thought that hee was able to come to the year-end party (year-end wasted sessions with close friends). “hi, miss beautiful.” jake respectfully offers his hand for you to shake, the whole bro mode of him gone without any trace — it felt as if you were talking to sim jaeyun, not jake. his fluttering eyes and charming smile almost made you forget he's an ass most of the times — school vandalism, failing grades, and simply a jerk. you hesitantly moved your hand towards his, when heeseung swatted jake's hand and jokingly said, "c'mon man, not my bestfriend." jake just laughed it off before letting you both come in. wow, who would've thought? your cheeks are hot-to-the-touch from bare minimum.

"seung-hyung, beer pong!" jay called out to heeseung and beside him is sunghoon waving at his senior to come. when hoon glanced at you beside hee, he gave you a suppressed smile before whispering something to jay. heeseung gulped his drink twice before releasing a grunting sound from how the alcohol grazes his throat hot after the coldness brought by the ice cubes subside, he turns to you "hey, i'll be back, okay? but uh do you wanna play with u–"

"hyung! hoon suggested we should let ms. _____ join us. it's gonna be a 2v2 match." jay extended his arm and pointed at you with his his whole hand, nodding at you. heeseung stood there for a minute, thinking of the possibilities that could be :

would it be better if he lets you join? what if you both lose? who will have to drink all the cups of punch? what about letting you join but he'll deal with the consequences? he'll be the one to drink all the cups of punch? it would be stupid to think that there's a 100% chance that you and he will win this, would he want to take the risk for a drunk _____ or a drunk hee? what if he just doesn't let you join? but where would that leave you?

"i want to join." you finally spoke out, which not long did jay respond, "perfect! hyung, ms. _____, let's go." hoon and jay walked towards the tennis table to start setting up the game — pouring drinks in 20 cups, arranging them in a pyramid shape. your attention spun back to heeseung who asked you a question in a concerned tone : "are you sure about this? just play but don't drink too much, hangover might be bonkers for you tomorrow. i'll deal with the penalty if we ever lose." you gripped his wrist, laughing, "i wasn't planning on dealing with the consequences either so, yeah i agree with your plan." he chuckles, "hey lovebirds, you guys go first." hoon elbowed jay in his ribs out of disbelief, but then proceeded to snicker with him. hee waited for you to walk a little past him so he could wrap one of his arm on your shoulders, making the two opponents coo in anticipation, luring attention.

you feel all eyes inside the house stare you down along with heeseung, murmurs that make your heart thump which are making you guess if the murmurs were spoken out of filthy mouth or out of support. you feel your whole body burn — not because of the drink but because of the unnecessary pressure you were getting. you weren't used to this feeling, and you felt like you'll never get used to it too. your feet stopped walking inches away from the table, you couldn't bear the ear-piercing noises of people screeching and screaming, the background music floods your eardrums painfully. all you could do was stare at wherever your eyes find comfortable to stare at, crumpling the hem of your shirt inside your sweaty, shaky hands. it felt like the whole party was swallowing you down and the walls were getting smaller and smaller 'til you were ready to leave heeseung right there right now.

you grabbed a pingpong, "we go first, right?" and threw the most precise shot you can do. score! a ball shot in the cup right in the middle. "aju nice, but i'm better." hoon teased, threw a pingpong ball and fell in the cup nearest to you. he then raised his brows at you in a way that he's obviously flirting with you. a group of 'ooooohs' erupted in one of the watchers. the fuck is wrong with this guy? — you thought. "okay, everyone! how do you guys wanna play this? — should we drink the punches every rounds or after we're done?" jay butted in.

"hey? _____?" you snap back to your senses and inhaled sharply after unconsciously holding your breath, everything was suddenly back to normal. the people are minding their own business, the background music was set at a reasonable volume, no eyes were gawking at you anymore. heeseung was gently shaking you with his hands gripping your shoulders. "do you want to go home? are you drunk? we can just dip now." you started to notice his voice changed into a distressed tone. in reality, you haven't even drank the single cup of punch halfway through so you were sure you were still sober. i mean, you aren't exactly the newbie in drinking, too. it's just that you were too into your thoughts and you weren't really used to packed crowds in parties. "i'm okay. let's start." you finally looked at his face to see his brows knitted furiously, his eyes widened, and his lips quivering.

"every round." heeseung took a sip of his own punch, idly pointing at the drinks as he's talking. hoon and jay snickered to his response, "every round, then. ms. _____ —"

"she's not gonna drink too much so i'll drink most of hers." without hesitation, heeseung removed the ball on the cup full of punch — where hoon's landed — and drank all the way in one go. alcohol carving lines on his throat that made him grunt, "yo, this is strong as hell." he shook his head aggressively as if removing the alcohol spirit in him. this competitive but protective side of heeseung in parties you've never seen. in short, this night is just giving you more and more reasons to like this potatohead — and more and more reasons to forever embrace your choice about agreeing to go with hee to this party.

hoon and jay looked at each other, giving each other looks like they were up to something... hoon proceeded to grab his cup and drink it straight, side-eyeing you with a curve forming on the side of his lips. what is up with him? the nth time you asked yourself for this night. "sunghoon." hee noticed the way hoon looked at you, and with a stern tone he called out to his junior, "drink that shit faster." he then threw his shot onto a cup aggressively yet so perfectly, almost choking the younger boy with his punch. "my turn." jay smirking. he leaned slightly onto the table with full concentration noticeable in his stance, he scored.

"drink up, hyung." jay raised his cup as he did with his brow, gulping every single drop of the punch with a refreshing remark. "ahh, refreshing. ain't it?" who wouldn't start seeing stars in minutes when you just drank 2 full cups in such a short time? the two juniors were starting to make fun of heeseung, and that's where suspicions raised. you grabbed a cup on one of the cups laid on the game setup. the drink smelled so fucking strong, it was almost as if you were sniffing rubbing alcohol straight from the cup. you glanced at the juniors, with disgust and confusion expressions plastered across your face. what a sick prank, for you atleast. you like the guy, ofcourse you'd show concern for him + you're his chaperone for tonight if we're gonna be honest so sober heeseung is the best choice for you to take care of. hee grabbed your wrist, "darling, don't drink. don't fall for their shit." looking at you with dead siren eyes — looking like he's sleepy — you paused for a second to comprehend what he just said. "darling?—"

"nobody can forfeit 'cause that's the rules." jay waved everyone watching to let them know nobody's backing off the game, not even heeseung who's starting to get wasted from the game. "dude, what's with the drinks?" you asked jay in an unexplainable tone that will humiliate him. "oh, ms. _____. senior college students get pranked by freshmen or students younger than them in parties like this every year. hyung knows that, i don't know why he gave in, though... anyway, that's a vodka mix he's drinking. one of the strongest ones!" he clapped in dismissal to let hoon throw another ball onto the cup on your side.

with every round, heeseung became progressively more disoriented to the point that when he moved out of the place he was standing, he couldn't walk a straight line. you reckon him whispering to you, "hey, i'm seeing stars." to which you cracked up. the way he was so straightforward with it and the way he said it so subtly was sure to fart your shits tonight. but then he continued, "i'm sorry in advanced for the shit i'm gonna say and do tonight. i'll treat you to mcdonalds once my hangover goes away tomorrow." he opened his palm which you high-fived. not expecting anything when he wrapped his hand around yours and looked you directly in the eyes while slightly leaning his body on the table with his free arm sideways, smiling at you.

the crowd bursted into woos and coos and screams that will only make your heartbeat so much faster, not because of anxiety but because of hype this time. jay and hoon were laughing at heeseung, to which heeseung laughed along drunkly too when he glanced at the two. "what's funny, broskis?" heeseung pointed at jay and hoon with a sheepish smile plastered across his face. the background music got changed to a disco party song. "let's dance, hyung!" almost everybody gathered on the living room while the rest scattered across every room of the house.

he never let go of your hand and pulled you in the dance floor. his aura when he's drunk is so fucking unmatched. he always has his eyes closed, moving so slyly but is so confident about himself, bobbing his head to the song with his hands up in the air. his perfume filling your system along with atleast a hundred more perfumes worn by party people inside the house.

enough about him, what about you? it's not like heeseung drank everything in the game, you had to have your share, too. you drank around 3 drinks? 4? you honestly couldn't remember. you knew your way around alcohol, yeah. but you never said you can steer your way to alcohol, right? you admit to yourself you didn't have that high of a tolerance so heeseung asking you to dance with him and go nuts, you just had to decline. "c'mon, sugar. let's dance." heeseung still in party mode, you asked him "seung, since when did you start calling me 'sugar' and 'darling'?—"

"everyone! this is for, lovey-dovey people. specifically ms. _____ over there and our best pal, lee heeseung hyung." jay announced over the mic as he gestured at hoon to change the track to something else. "now playing, can't help falling inlove." jay bowed and placed the mic somewhere you didn't care.

your eyes were focused on lee heeseung, your so-dear bestfriend who's now easily wasted and it's been just- what? 3 hours? 3 hours onto the party and he's already groggily dancing you to 'can't help falling inlove'. as his half-closed eyes were focused on you, as well. roaming his eyes around your face, analyzing your features like it was his first time meeting you. when in reality, it was his first time looking at you like this — a subtle smile pasted on his lips that wouldn't just disappear as he tucked the stray hair behind your ear. his light chuckles which you'll never get tired of hearing, especially when you know you're the reason behind it. his hand slowly creeping on your side, gently gripping onto you as he lets you holds his other hand. meanwhile, you found your way to his shoulder, gently massaging him and actually shaking since a dance with your crush is not something you can do everyday. he teases your height every chance he can, though right now he comments, "you look so beautiful in this angle... like you know, our heights match for boyfriends and girlfriends hehehehe." he was wasted, yeah, and he was just so comfortable in saying anything to you at this point. he hesitated to continue his statement before grabbing the guts and proceed, "we should do this more often." you let out a hearty laugh so did he. "why are you laughing?" heeseung asked whilst still laughing and smiling at you. "you're drunk. i'm your..."

he raised his eyebrows still maintaining his tired eyelids in-place, "hmm?" he unconsciously stops swaying, not until you lead him again since stopping the dance would be pretty awkward, especially you both are standing in the middle of the dance floor — squeezed with people who are dancing as well. "i mean, i'm your bestfriend. we can't be together." it's like everything good that happened tonight vanished inside your head, and there you are again with your heartbroken thoughts. you were losing your color as you were dancing with him, which he actually noticed. he lets go of you and proceeded to walk towards the microphone. jay and hoon noticed him, then guided him since he was already hammered. "hyung, what are you gonna do?" hoon, who was almost hammered as well, asked. heeseung was trying his best, and when i say his best, he was trying his best to get on top of the chair without losing his balance which was pretty hard for him since, like he told you, he was already seeing stars. his knees almost collapsed not until the two juniors, and jake — who was already sobered up — supports heeseung's back and pushed him up the chair. "mic, mic." heeseung idly sways on top of the chair while open-and-closing his hand towards jake for the mic. jake frantically gives him the mic, and you just stood there watching him. lost in why he left you on the dance floor and stood on top of a chair, though you truly were lost when he inhaled on the mic — startling every senses you have.

"I LIKE _____." heeseung pointed at you with his whole hand, as the crowd immediately turned to look at who he was pointing at. without turning your head, your eyes were travelling your peripheral vision and side vision, to see who's giving you looks... a lot were. people were starting to whisper and it was honestly like deja vu, but this time it's worse since you're head is already aching so much. you were once again crumpling something under your grip, but this time it's your skin. you were scratching and fondling with the skin of your forearms, "she's a whore! didn't you see her flirt with your friend earlier?" someone shouted from the crowd. "SHUT UP, YOU'RE THE FUCKING WHORE, BITCH." heeseung, with all cruelty inside his body, clapped back at the girl who called you a 'whore', who turned out to be someone from your class. the crowd exploded in reactions of hyping heeseung and you up, leaving your hater devastated. you didn't even realize you were tearing up until you closed your eyes from chuckling lightly and tears started to roll from your eyes down to your cheeks. you didn't know which hurt more : someone you totally don't expect calls you a 'whore' because heeseung said he likes you, or heeseung said he likes you but he's wasted. you couldn't handle your emotions bottled up throughout the whole night, throughout the whole time of liking heeseung secretly. you just had to walk out and ditch, but since heeseung wouldn't let go of you in his sight, he was quick to jump off the chair when he saw you heading for jake's house door. "hey! h—" he panted, running in disoriented lines for you, as jake, jay, and hoon followed him. "easy, you might trip." hoon warned heeseung.

he gripped your wrist to stop your from walking home. you both stood outside the porch of the house, with the party lights from inside and the orange streetlights the only source of light. "hey, _____. i like you hehe did you hear me there?" heeseung, still under the influence, obviously, talks in a giddy tone which pisses you off even more. everything that cheap girl who called you a 'whore' did was enough to blow your fucking sanity off, and one bad thing about it is that you managed to release all your anger out on hee, "heeseung, what do you think this is, us? what do you think about us? me?" you spit out, your index finger pointing at his chest. before he could even grab air, you continued : "do you think this is just some kind of prank or a sad excuse to catch clout and bring home more girls and 'sluts' as you call them? do you think this is something so casual as a joke just to announce to everyone then play like nothing happened tomorrow?"

"you know exactly who you are, heeseung. you know girls would come for my ass once they find out that 'you like me', if that's even true. you could've just told me about this in private, yeah your way of confessing is loverboy-material but— you could've thought about what people are gonna comment about me first." you shoved him so hard he almost tripped himself.

"you're not just some ordinary college boy, everybody wants you. think of what they're gonna call me 'cause the fall is on me." you honestly didn't know if anything you're saying connects to what happened earlier, you thought these are probably feelings you've never opened to someone, things you wanted to say.

and at this point, everyone in the party is listening to your fight with heeseung and some even went outside the porch to hear better of what's up. the 3 juniors a meter away from the both of you.

"seung, i like you too but- we could've settled this when you're sober and when people who are always willing to call names aren't here. that way, i would actually believe you. i—" eyes red and uncontrollable body quivering from the shock that erupted from inside your body, "i'm sorry. for exploding and putting all the blame on you. i really like you, like, like-like you. it's just— it's the girls. you knew this would happen and this is a bad idea. i'm glad that you said you liked me. but we're not sure about that since... look at you." you gestured at his state — swaying with his wrinkled clothes, his lids ready to drop anytime.

you were waiting for him to say anything as you stared him down while he stood there, dumbfounded.

"do you want me to prove it to you?" he finally spoke. you were ready to answer, not until he shuts you up by stepping forward you and softly pressing his lips on yours — pulling you close by the waist with his arm while his hand cups your cheek to guide you. your spirits touch, and you could feel his warm body on your cold skin. you were tensed, so tensed your lips felt like rock hard on his. but then, you got accustomed to it that you just slumped there and gave in. pushing your torso towards him, your hands slowly found their way behind heeseung's neck and pushed him even closer to you, if that was possible, to deepen the kiss. this, is what was gonna make you see stars for tonight. well, you couldn't even see since your eyes were closed so you instead thought that : damn, i feel like i'm in space floating with him.

you felt so numb and you weren't prepared to let go of his lips yet. your tongue working wonders, entangling with his. this euphoric feeling that was once only in your mind, now is true to life. you finally pulled away to look at his face, he looked a thousand times more handsome — the most handsome he could ever be. even better, he looked like his eyes hold the whole galaxy inside them — glistening at your sight while you could see your own reflection on them. as his eyes darted onto yours, a smirk easily forming on the curves of his lips. your eyes wide open, processing everything that just happened. you got startled and jumped a little on heeseung's hold when people started screaming and cheering for you both, this time, you were both the one who had been filmed with phones, offered more punches, and cheered and hyped on. jake's standing there with jay and hoon, proud.

"we're gonna go to mcdonald's tomorrow, everyone! wooo!" heeseung screamed to which party-people laughed, "hammered as fuck, bro!" someone shouted from the crowd. jay butted in to tell everyone that heeseung still hasn't dealt with the beerpong penalty yet, you both lost. the crowd replies with an "oooooh" in a low tone to raise suspense and thrill. letting heeseung throw the balls every so often really wasn't a good idea, now that you've thought about it. "penalty is a cup of en's house mix!" jay announced. "it's a mixture of every drink imaginable, but not really. just gin, vodka, brandy, whiskey, beer, juice, coffee, just those things. all in one cup." hoon explained.

everybody was invited to go back inside the house to watch the 3 juniors prepare the drink in a cup, you and heeseung were both told to watch closely since it's gonna be the last thing you both are gonna see clearly for tonight. "y'all see this bottle? this shi costs our semester fee." jay waved up a bottle of liquor and as he said, expensive. "and this? jake's dad and my dad had to be stuck in yucatan for a few days just to buy this hell of a drink." hoon waved up another bottle, furnished full of swirls and curls, which awed the whole audience. "and this, guys?" jake held up a bottle with a black cap and matte glass body, "this was just bought at the nearest supermarket yesterday." the whole crowd bursted in laughter and genuine expressions as jake was chortling in-place, entertained at his own joke. "and this, guys?" jay held up the glass cup of ice which were put in hee and your drink, "we just pulled it out of jake's freezer." hoon was wheezing beside jake and jay, holding onto his kneecaps for his life. "and this, guys?" jake held up the two cups which you and hee were about to drink, "just kidding, guys. i'm all out of jokes. anyway, let's now watch the lovebirds face their penalty!"

the drink was stored in two cups, half-full. your stomach churning at the thought of how strong the drink is, you were ready to be put in a hospital bed for gastritis 'cause of you and your acidic stomach acid. "ready?" you asked heeseung, arm and hand holding the drink tangled with yours for a more fancy approach at the penalty. "fuck yeah." you both drank up as everyone chanted : "CHUG! CHUG! CHUG!". the moment the drink entered your mouth, all you thought was that you felt sorry for yourself and heeseung, you wouldn't be able to take care of neither. it felt like you were tasting a good taste of intense hangover and a sleep at jake's house with the rest of the gang. a few minutes into the drink and you were feeling yourself starting to get wasted. a few minutes after the drink, your sight started to darken and everyone you see looked so funny. when you looked at heeseung, he was laughing to himself. literally to himself 'cause he wasn't laughing at himself, either. hoon was quick to grab his phone and film hee, "hyung, what are you laughing at?"

"the time jake pissed himself last year when— ah- AHAHAHAHAHAHAAH—"

"ya! why me?" it was simply impossible to talk to him seriously at this point. the poor junior who was being picked on demanded hee to do jump and jacks, 30 times, to further shake him up. funny thing is, hee complied and miraculously got through the whole 30 reps of jump and jacks. jake and jay helped hee up beside you. "i want- i- sleep." you murmured to yourself, hoon went near you to hear you. "what?" he gently asked you to repeat what you just said. "i said- i wan slep u idiot." wow, you really managed to cuss sunghoon out while you're literally wasted. your whole body shuts down and lets you sleep at ease, did you even remember where you laid down?

to be continued.

i wanted to mention a tumblr user for my taglist but everytime i try to save a change on this post it just won't save 😭 i've been trying for around 10 times now, what do i do?

[ edit – ]

태그리스트 :

@lalalalawon , @nikiwoo

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hqcult · 3 years

Text

21ST ## the miya twins

you visit hyogo to celebrate your 21st birthday with your extended family. you met atsumu and osamu, who were oh so excited to meet you.

. tw manipulation, pseudo-incest, noncon, cunnilingus, masturbation, exhibitionism, voyeurism, mindbreak, implied double penetration, dark content . wc 4.3k

looking back, the twins are good fucking actors. they deserve some oscar-level award with how much they smiled those sweet honey smiles and lured you into a sense of security before baring their fangs and pulling you down to hell with them. but they never would’ve gotten the chance to act if you hadn’t been there as their audience. so, the truth remains the same—this is all your fault. you never should’ve insisted coming to hyōgo in the first place.

ever since getting adopted at the tender age of thirteen and moving to tokyo, you’ve seen everything there is to see, ate at every restaurant with a 5-star review on google. you’ve done them all at least thrice by now and it’s getting boring.

so, when your adoptive father had jokingly talked about coming to hyōgo to meet your extended family for your 21st birthday, you perked up in your seat and your eyes twinkled like stars.

your mom didn’t want to go at first, of course, claiming you’ll get carsick but your parents eventually gave in after seeing the pleading look in your eyes and the genuine excitement in your stance.

long story short, you did end up getting carsick. quite a few times too, actually. but you were already driving along the expressway and your mom’s sister was already expecting the three of you. so, naturally, you guys pushed through, your dad making sure he drove as smoothly as possible in order not to trigger another barfing session from you.

it was twilight by the time your dad pulled up on his sister-in-law’s driveway and the first you see were two identical faces—twins? for step-cousins? well, now that was something. you’ve never really met twins before so it was a whole new experience and it excited you greatly.

not to mention how you and atsumu instantly hit it off, your personalities aligning. yet when you sat next to osamu during dinner, the younger twin found it wasn’t as hard talking to you compared to his brother. in fact, he found it interesting how easy it was to converse with you, the words flowing out his lips. you were just so painfully compatible with them that why oh why did the universe have to make you their half-cousin?

the shift in their behavior wasn’t at all gradual but can you really blame them? you were such a good daughter, such a beauty. and they guess the whole ‘pseudo-incest’ taboo thing amplified your appeal all the more.

well, at least in their defense, atsumu and osamu genuinely wanted to get to know their new cousin in the most innocent, platonic way and not this weird thing they’re feeling right now. but you were so damn irresistible that they couldn’t keep their feelings in check.

how kind of ‘samu to grab the coffee container at the topmost shelf for you during breakfast, not knowing he purposely puts it there every night so he can “accidentally” rub his morning wood against your ass.

your ‘tsumtsum is such an angel when he doesn’t hesitate to take off his outerwear and lends it to you whenever you forget yours, not knowing he snatches them from the laundry basket and leaving you no choice but to use his. the sweet scent you leave on the jacket is enough to throw him off the edge and have him climaxing as he fucked his own hand.

nobody noticed, everyone was distracted by their achievements at such a young age. all their mom had to say is how osamu yet again made it to dean’s lister or how atsumu got scouted for a national team.

your mom and dad didn’t notice, lost in the daydream of always wanting to have their own son only to end up with you. blinded of their dazzle that the rotten pieces of them were fully camouflaged by the glow.

it all came to a peak when the twins were pulling all-nighter playing games like always.

atsumu needed to use the restroom, and just as he’s passing by your door, he heard a questionable sound that made him stop, frozen and unbelieving.

carefully, he tiptoes closer to place his ear against your door, praying to whomever that the floorboards don’t creak and disrupt whatever you’re doing. silence, seconds of it. then click, a switch turning on, he hears low vibration and a shaky whimper, a slick sound that reminded him of—

you were touching yourself.

holy fucking crap.

atsumu can only stare at the door with a knowing curl in his lips as he quickly pushes down his boxers. the risk of getting caught masturbating so out in the open making all the blood rush south.

“guess yer not as innocent as i thought ya were,” he mutters, spitting on his palm before wrapping it around his dick.

he shut his eyes close, clinging desperately into the imagination of how it would feel like to fuck your cunny instead of his hand. how the view would be like as he forces your legs up and into a mating press as he rutted his hips into you. at least you were loud, the moans he can hear as clear as day and he’s thankful he needn’t depend on his imagination anymore like all the other times.

you better be fucking thankful that the rest of the rooms were downstairs or else your parents and their mom would’ve heard by now. eh, atsumu didn’t mind. he got off on the risque idea of getting caught in the act.

when your pitch grows whinier and he hears your quick rufflings on the bed, he knows you’re close. he can hear the frantic and changing levels of the vibrator as you fucked it into your walls.

“fuck,” he hissed, the mental image of you masturbating and putting on a show for him making him teeter over the edge.

he grunts, low and animalistic, as spurts of his cum stains his hands and the floor. he didn’t care. he pumped himself through his orgasm and it was the best he’s ever got in a while. who knew all he needed to hear was his little step-cousin lewdly touching herself? naughty, naughty girl.

when he heard your panting after cumming against your little toy, he took his cue and speed-walked towards his and osamu’s bedroom to get a cloth he’ll use to clean the front of your door. but just as he caught you in the act, he caught his own brother red-handed, too.

the tiny specks of cum on the wall where osamu stood is a ghastly sight but atsumu couldn’t care less.

silently, the twins exchanged a knowing glance.

“ya heard ‘er too?”

someone knocks on your bedroom door on the eve of your birthday.

osamu was tasked to wake you up while atsumu started the car. you didn’t respond. were you… he slowly opens the door, he spots you immediately in the bundle of blankets atop your bed. when he stalks closer, you looked so cozy that osamu almost got tempted to ditch the idiot and come snuggle with you under the blankets instead.

but he has two heads and the one he’s using to think is located south.

he wakes you up with a gentle shake on the shoulder. “‘samu?” you mutter, voice low and croaky from your deep sleep when you see a blurry tousle of gray hair.

“let’s do a countdown for yer birthday, angel. come on, put on a jacket. ‘tsumu’s already startin’ up the car.”

osamu’s blunt nails dug half-moon crescents into his palms as he saw your tiny pajama shorts and the slip top when you shoved the blankets away. he swore his palms would’ve bled, especially after seeing you bending over to look for a hoodie inside your luggage.

he stared so openly, it was almost predatory in a sense.

as you scamper down the stairs with the younger twin’s hands dangerously grazing the top of your rear, you thought it’s plain old protective ‘samu being worried you’ll make a misstep and break your neck.

“where’s everybody?”

“just us three, angel. ‘lil cousin bonding before yer big party tonight, y’know?”

you giggled. how sweet, you thought.

you didn’t sense a thing. didn’t see a single red flag even if it was being waved across your face like what they do in bullfights. osamu felt a little sorry for how they’re blatantly manipulating you but it’s too late to back out now, much less let the guilt eat up his insides. he shouldn’t be a hypocrite considering he jacked off to your moans, too, that night.

he’s really no different than atsumu and it’s a tough pill to swallow.

“shotgun!”

it wasn’t osamu that stops you, but atsumu, from scampering into the front seat. the older twin quickly locks the door before lowering down the passenger side’s window.

“nuh-uh, birthday girl. ya can’t sit here or the surprise’ll be ruined!”

you grumble, frowning as you scoot yourself in the backseat of the car. atsumu twists his torso towards the back, asking you to wear the blindfold he’s handing you. it was a little tough with how stubborn you are but ‘tsumu’s just too good with his words.

you drove for thirty minutes before the car pulled up somewhere. the world is tranquil outside, so you couldn’t have driven to the nearest city. your initial guess is a beach, but there were no splashes of water. maybe a cliff-side or a forest?

the car’s ignition turns off and you call out to the twins.

“‘tsumu? ‘samu? where are we? can i take my blindfold off now?”

“just a moment, doll.” there’s an excited lilt to atsumu’s voice and you can’t help but fidget in your seat, feeling the excitement crawling up your spine as you think of what their surprise could be.

you hear them clamber out the car. you scoot closer to the door just as the backseat opens, a silly smile on your face. “you guys didn’t have to do this, you know, but i appreciate it so mu—”

someone tackles you to the seat and the air gets knocked out of your lungs. he’s heavy and you felt the muscles underneath his shirt as you tried to push him away but to no avail—you know it’s a man, it has to be because you felt the broad shoulders and something poking at your thigh. you feel him nosing the side of your neck and his hands crawling under your shirt. his freezing skin against your own is what snapped you out of it.

“atsumu! osamu!” you cried, calling for help.

you inwardly gasped, realizing something. maybe they were hurt! maybe your assaulter had creeped up behind the twins just as they opened the door for you, knocked them out cold, before trying to have their way with you. at the thought of the twins getting hurt, you thrashed, fought, and screamed with newfound fervor.

“couldja calm down and shut yer fucking trap?”

when the blindfold flies away and you see the man straddling you on the backseat of atsumu’s car, how you wished your assaulter had never taken it off.

atsumu had never looked this scary from your point of view, then again he never straddled you like this in the weeks prior. never looked at you like how he’s looking now—there’s clear hunger and lust in those eyes. you’ve seen that look one too many times from boys back in your university when you had your one night stands. but it had all been consensual and you loved them looking at you that way but this is different.

so, so different.

you can’t look at him in the eye, not when he’s staring at you like that. it felt like you’re pushed into a corner, vulnerable and bare even with the clothes you’re wearing.

“please, get off of me.”

“get off ya?” he repeats, mirth in his eyes as he hauls you up to a sitting position. he finally shuts the door behind him. “but i’ve been wantin’ to do this for weeks.”

to further emphasize his point, he grounds his hips against yours, making sure the tip of his already erect cock grazes against the bud of your clit. his boxers and the thin fabric of your shorts isn’t helping. he groans wantonly, angling his hips to do it again until you slipped out from under him and maneuvered your way to the other door.

osamu! osamu will stop him, you thought with teary eyes as atsumu growls and quickly pulls you back by the forearms, your back to his chest as you try to claw your way out of the athlete’s grip.

“‘samu! ‘samu, help me!”

but when the said twin opens the door and slips inside the car with little to no surprise present in his face, a type of fear you’ve never felt before runs up your spine. the look in osamu’s eyes reflected that of his twin’s and with sinking realization, you knew he wasn’t there to help you.

“happy 21st birthday, angel.”

and then he’s ducking down to kiss you. his lips are soft and they moved tenderly, in contrast to the barbaric way they tore at your clothes, the cold making you shiver in your underwear.

dealing with one sick person is enough, but with two, you’re not so sure. you only had two hands, if you pushed osamu away, atsumu would have free access and vice versa. your legs couldn’t move either, thanks to the cramped space of the backseat.

while holding down your hands, atsumu marks every inch of untainted skin he could see as osamu swirls his tongue inside your mouth. you’ve never felt so disgusted and dirty, but above all, betrayed. even if it was a few weeks since you’ve met, you still saw them as family. sure, you weren’t technically blood-related but in the papers it’s a different story.

when osamu pulled away, you averted your eyes but his hand reached up to hold your chin, forcing your eyes to meet. you feel his other hand trailing up your thighs, fingers dangerously close to your clothed sex as he watched you like a fox. he wanted to commit this moment to memory. every twitch and small gasp you make as his cold fingers pinched at your clit and traced your pussy lips.

“staying quiet, princess?” atsumu comments, hands snaking around front to squeeze and grope your breasts over the bra you wore. “ya weren’t like this when i caught ya touchin’ yerself last week.”

your eyes widened. when you tried turning your head to look over your shoulder towards the other twin, osamu shoved two fingers inside you.

your reaction was immediate. the pleasure and pain mixing as a loud gasp escapes your lips. “eyes up front,” he murmurs, the firm hold on your chin going higher to encase your whole jaw.

“oi, ‘samu, didn’t think you’re the possessive type,” atsumu says, teasingly placing his chin on your shoulder as he smiles that lazy smile you know osamu hates. “not that i’m going to lose.”

the older twin slips your bra off just as osamu takes his fingers out to lewdly lick up your slick. he moans, keeping his eyes trained on your horrified face. “sweet. but not wet enough for us, angel.”

“what—no—!”

“let me have a go.”

before you could even react, atsumu’s spinning you around to face him as he shoves your shoulders down. due to the cramped space, your head collides with osamu’s thighs, narrowly missing the tent in his joggers. the weight in his thighs makes the younger twin fidget and squirm as he hastily reaches for your hand, pulling his bottoms down just enough for his cock to spring out. you wince when it hits the side of your face. osamu loved the disgust in your face when he spat at your hand and used it to get himself off as he started stroking his cock.

meanwhile, in one swift motion, atsumu is pulling your panties down and licking a stripe up your cunny, the tip of his tongue prodding at your clit as his hands come up to slap your pussy. “how dare ya be so quiet,” he hisses, sucking harsher on your clit to pull a reaction out of you. “let me hear ya whine and moan, babe. i’m fuckin’ sure as hell my tongue is better than some cheap ass vibrator ya used.”

but your lips are stubbornly sealed as you arched your back. like hell you’d play into their wants and sick fantasies. they were your cousins! forcing you to enjoy this is just downright wrong. and knowing they’ve eavesdropped and silently lusted over you while having those innocent little smiles on their faces… were they not in the least bit guilty for deceiving you? deceiving your parents?

“give ‘er somethin’ bigger. i think she’s askin’ for it.” osamu says, kneading one of your breasts and tweaking your nipples as he continued to pump himself using your hand.

because he lost to rock paper scissors, he’s going to fuck you after atsumu and no matter how furious he was, a deal’s a deal.

like an idea switching inside his head, atsumu falters, staring right at you with sparkles in his eyes before his lips curled into a devious smirk.

“no, no, no,” you scramble, trying to sit up in order to push him away but osamu is quick to pin you down. “atsumu—no—you don’t want to do this, please—!”

“shut it, princess. i know what i want and that’s to fuck yer sweet little cunny right ‘ere,” he mocks by planting a sweet kiss against your lower lips.

“can ya stop with the dirty talk my dick’ll go soft, ya scrub!” osamu hisses, his hands wrapped around yours getting tighter as the lewd sounds of his slick gets louder.

no matter how much osamu denies it, he’s getting off on seeing you squirming under atsumu and god he never thought to have a voyeurism kink but here we are.

atsumu shoves his boxers down and you turn away from glancing down at his cock, osamu had to ruthlessly pull your hair and make you look as you slowly start tearing up. he was bigger than most guys you’ve met in college and you dread the painful stretch it’ll take for him to shove that dick inside you.

“shh, princess. don’tcha worry, yer all prepped to take me.” he scissors your pussy lips, the sticky wetness creating lewd sounds before pushing his stained fingers into your mouth. “hear that? go on and taste yerself.”

he gave you no choice, fingers pushing your tongue down until you obliged to his wishes. from behind you, you hear a low grunt and a pant as osamu throws his head back. he was close, you could tell and you surely didn’t want your face to be near his cock once he cums.

“‘tsumu, god damn it! hurry and fuck ‘er already!”

osamu was close and his mind was clouded. he needed to see you get railed in order for him to teeter towards that delicious edge of pure ecstasy. needed to hear the noises like the ones you made that night.

“i got it, i got it. fuckin’ impatient bastard.”

“atsumu, stop—!”

but he doesn't bother to listen, pushing his cock deep all in a single thrust. you were right. the stretch slightly stings and you bet it would’ve hurt more had he not bothered to suck and lick at your pussy earlier. “it hurts,” you sob, trying to curl in on yourself while keeping atsumu from leaning in.

but your strength is no match for him as he peppers light kisses down your neck, osamu helping with pushing your hair away to expose more skin. “shh, shh,” the faux-blond coos. “it’ll get better, i promise ya. yer gonna love it so let me move, okay?”

“no, wait, take it out, wai—!”

he starts thrusting, timed and rhythmic as his hands reach under your thighs, slightly raising your lower body to meet the angle of his hips. you couldn’t deny that it felt good like he said. the heavenly drag of his dick inside your walls, feeling you squeeze around him just as he nearly pulls out, only to thrust it all back in again. he wanted to keep this “making love” pace as long as he wants but he’s getting irritated but how you still wanted to keep your pretty lips shut.

that’s when you truly felt the vehicle jolting back and forth, brought by the sudden way atsumu manically fucks you like some animal. the change of pace surprised you greatly, choking on your saliva and letting out a pornographic “ah!” as he started railing you in the backseat of his car. you were way past the point of no return as immense pleasure spiked your nerves. all thoughts of somehow fighting their advances being shot out the window.

“that’s it,” atsumu pants, swinging your legs up against your chest to fuck you even deeper. “come on, make some noise, princess. i want people to hear how good i make ya feel even if they’re miles away.”

after all this is over and the lustful haze they forced you under is gone, you’ll regret the way you moaned and groaned and whined like how you’re doing now. embarrassing, how even as atsumu leans closer to kiss you, you don’t push him away. a mess of saliva and sweat mixing as his pace doesn’t relent and the fierce jolts of the car only adds up to your pleasure.

“‘tsumu!” you screamed, one hand holding onto his hair and the other scratching at his back. “i’m close—shit!”

he replies with a moan of his own, drawn out and whiny, feeling your walls suffocating his cock as he continues to drive it in and out with a speed you’ve never experienced with your past rendezvous. perks of being an athlete, you guess. “don’tcha dare fuckin’ cum until i tell ya to or else.”

but that little devil is making it harder for you to obey him as one of his hands snakes in between your bodies to start toying with your clit, drawing firm circles and figure 8’s to draw in that eventual release. “no, no, ‘tsumu don’t!” you tried reaching down but his hand only tugs it back, firmly holding your wrist as he continues his ministrations.

it’s too much. you were feeling it all too much and in the heat of the moment, you forgot everything else—you arch your back and felt your climax crashing over you as your cum steadily makes a mess off the backseat with every thrust atsumu made.

he stops.

his head hangs low, looking at the view of your interconnected bodies before scoffing in disbelief. menacingly, he raises his head to make eye contact with you. “didn’t i fuckin’ tell ya to cum only if i tell ya to cum?”

the faux-blond grabs at your hair, ruthlessly tilting it back as you feel a sticky sensation running down your nether lips. you shake your head, eyes wide like a deer in headlights.

“but—!”

“i don’t care. i warned ya, didn’t i? so don’t fuckin’ hate me after all this is over.”

suddenly you feel your fight surging through you again like a tidal wave. this is wrong. how dare they do it even after you said no. how dare they do it and make you enjoy it?

“aw, cute. angel’s still got some fight in ‘er left.”

you thrashed against atsumu as soon as he swiftly pulls out of you. he doesn’t even break a sweat while restraining you with his bare hands.

“let me go! you fuckers! i’ll tell—”

“tell who? our parents? this isn’t elementary school, princess. ya get what ya fuckin’ deserve and it’s not our fault ya like swingin’ that pretty ass so much.”

you growl as a retort, attempting to bite atsumu’s hand off as he swiftly spins you around to lay on your stomach. you cringe, feeling your sticky essence against your skin. you didn't have time to feel humiliated, not as you came face to face with osamu’s still erect and angry dick.

you weren’t dumb, you knew why the faux-blond made you face his twins’ way—this is to be your punishment, he said, all the while feeling him scramble about behind you. it wasn’t only ‘til you feel atsumu’s tip prodding at your ass did you realize what’s going to happen.

“go on and give our ‘samu a nice suck, yeah? put on a show and if ya dare use yer teeth, i’ll personally make sure ya regret ever coming to hyōgo.”

you came back at dawn, during the sunrise. it’s glow basking the whole house in a nice orange tint. “what are you guys doing up so early?” your mom asks when she sees the three of you piling in from the front door.

she was too busy rubbing the sleep out of her eyes that she missed everything—the way osamu’s oppressive arm wrapped around your shoulder got tighter, the way atsumu gave you a nasty side eye, and especially the fearful expression on your face.

“no - nothing, mom. they just wanted to have a birthday countdown for me.”

“oh, right! happy 21st, sweetheart.”

#yandere haikyuu #yandere hq #yandere atsumu #yandere osamu #yandere miya atsumu #yandere miya osamu #toxichours #(❁ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈) mine ༉‧#yandere atsumu x reader #yandere osamu x reader #yandere miya osamu x reader #yandere miya atsumu x reader #tw yandere #tw noncon #tw exhibitionism #tw:incest #tw voyeurism

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nonbaznary · 3 years

Text

ao3 tag game ✨

thank you so much @wellbelesbian for tagging me in this! i really liked reading your answers, lol. sorry it took so long to post this, but here it is!!

how many works do you have on ao3?

currently i have 28! i deleted a few last year, unfortunately, but i’ll work this year to get that work count higher 🤲

what’s your total ao3 word count?

31522! weird number but i’ll take it

how many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

on ao3, five. or, i guess, technically four, because two of them are Carry On Series and Simon Snow & Related Fandoms. the other three are BIG BARF EW EW EW Voltron: Legendary Defender, Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe and Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. ew. ew. i have this thing- sticking to fandoms for authors and sometimes even works i now hate. anyways, i want to start writing for other fandoms too. i used to do stuff for riordanverse (mainly percy jackson, and i still have some WIPs), miraculous ladybug (not the greatest, but im watching it with my lil sis and its fun to try to fix that shit) and uhh i think it was the dragon prince? and she-ra and carmen sandiego? which were fun. so yeah!

what are your top five fics by kudos?

5. Maybe we just lived between hurting and healing

Gen, m/m, snowbaz

After a whole life of hurting, Simon and Baz finally get to healing. Baz adores it.

4. Of queer weddings and family parties

Gen, m/m, snowbaz

Baz and Simon are loudly queer in family events, especially now that they're engaged.

3. Move, I'm gay

T, gen

Inspired by the tweet: "sobbing at this lil girl at target. dad tries to get her a dress and she just YELLS “no I’m GAY I CAN’T” and her dad just sighs so loudly and goes “no you’re not gay, I’m gay. You’re five.”" Or: bad gay humor is generational, and often unintentional! - for @sharing-a-room-with-an-open-fire

2. Here, kitty-kitty…

T, gen + m/m, snowbaz

Simon adopts a cat. Baz pretends to hate him. It's probably safer for everyone this way… - for the @carryon-anon-fest

1. (Spend my days) Dreaming 'bout you

Gen, m/m, snowbaz

Life has been amazing for Simon and Baz. Simon can't stop daydreaming about their future together. He has a million questions to ask Baz. That's easier said than done, though. Written for the Carry On Exchange (Baz's Birthday Flash Round!) - for @letraspal

do you respond to comments? why or why not?

yeah, totally! i mean, at least i try to 🥲 im not really active on ao3 (and not always logged in because i forget to check that) but every time i get in i try to check my inbox and answer as much comments as i can, even if theyre just replies. i LOVE feedback on my fics and i think chatting about fics is really cool

what’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

👁👁👁👁👁 uhhh

ive had some pretty bad angst fics. all hurt, no comfort, definitely no happy endings. a lot of main character deaths and shit like that.

BUT none of these are still up, so i’ll go with one that is and i actually remember- recently, (I'll shut my mouth) I'll let you go, which is my least read and interacted fic ever (i mean, FAIR) a nicodemus & fiona fic from when he was Turned. yknow, the nice stuff

have you ever received hate on a fic?

no, i dont think so? not that i recall. ive had people whod send me like . personal hate? but still loved my fanfiction and told me so lol. but i dont think ive ever gotten hate on a fic. if i have, i completely forgot about it, or just straight up never saw it

do you write smut? if so, what kind?

not really? ive experienced and tried to get into it some little time ago but its not really my sort of thing. guess its still too awkward and embarrassing for my developing queer little brain. a few friends keep reminding me to try my hand at that because we do have fun talking about it lol, and im curious to see how itd turn out. and id definitely like to try to write some fics with more of a hint of seggsual stuff and not feel like crap for it!

have you ever had a fic stolen?

nope! (or not that i know of…)

have you ever had a fic translated?

ive been asked if people could translate my fics to spanish (and one in english when i wrote more in portuguese) but ive never actually seen my translated fics posted? 🤔 im fairly sure someone sent me, like, in DMs, a translation of one of my fics, but i dont think it ever saw the light of day

what’s your all-time favourite ship?

i dont really do those! i mean, that definitely are some ships that i will treasure for a long time, but i dont really choose all-time favourites for basically anything fandom-related. my taste changes very often, so thats not reallt a thing for me fkkdkdkd right now, its snowbaz, obviously (snowshaz is also starting to grow a lot in my lil polyamlm heart)

have you ever co-written a fic before?

i have! i used to do that ALL THE TIME when i first got into fanfiction, but lately not so much. i miss it though, it was such fun, and it helped me get even more ideas for fics. we'd have groupchats for fics, and sometimes even go like RPG-wise to develop scenes / dialogue. when i stopped co-writing often, i would still pitch in with a few chapters / scenes for my friends’ fics, and they’d do the same for mine. i loved it, and i think the readers thought it was fun too!, but i stopped writing frequently altogether so its harder to do that, i guess. maybe now that im getting back into writing in general i’ll get back into that too. also, renée and i are planning to co-write something soon, so !!

what’s a wip you want to finish, but don’t think you ever will?

wow, so many of my WIPs fit into this... my post break up art teacher simon fic. my band au. full like the moon, which is an exes-to-friends-to-lovers thing i think i posted the prologue to. the watford drama society au. most of my longfics, probably. lol

i have a bunch of fics that i might not even actually start writing. like, self indulgent fics that arent coherent at all and dont make any fucking sense. fics that are basically just a few random scenes splashed together and left aside. i like them, but... eh

what are your writing strengths?

queer stuff. angst angst and angst, i guess. people usually say im good with humor, and dialogues, so these!

what are your writing weaknesses?

as it probably became clear, if it wasnt already obvious; long fics! planning, actually writing a BUNCH of shit, and getting to the end. endings, in general, aren’t really my jam

what are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in fics?

i like it! dont really have a problem with the concept in general, but i do think its decent to leave the translations in the notes (or make it really, really obvious from context if possible)

what was the first fandom you wrote for?

harry potter, i think! i discovered fanfiction with harry potter, more specifically the marauders fandom, bc i used to look things up about them and only fanworks wouldve touched the subject 🥲 so thats what started my interest in fic

what’s your favourite fic you’ve written?

this is a hard one, because all my current favorites are still WIPs ✨✨✨ as in, do you want me (dead)? and my golden AU, mostly. but im really fond of And if you have nightmares, we’ll dance on the bed. i loved writing it, i love baz and penny’s relationship, and i think people should pay more attention to penelope’s trauma, because it's definitely there. it felt good to adress it. also note how literally all of these are named afted songs / lyrics LMAOOOO

tagging @thesebookishdelights / @aqueeriano / @punkjuliandiaz because i said i would 😌😌

#ao3 tag game #aspen talks writing #pen and paper

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thebookreader12345 · 4 years

Text

The Wonders of Pregnancy

Pairing: Adam Ruzek x reader

Summary: Y/N and Adam are finally having a baby, but things are not going the way they expected

Requested: No

Warnings: slight swearing, mentions of drugs and being pregnant

Word Count: 1,330 Words

First Trimester

The morning started out fine. Adam had made breakfast, so we were sitting at the table eating together. It had been a while since we had an actual breakfast together. Usually we’d just grab something quick either from the house or from somewhere nearby, but since I was now pregnant, Adam wanted to make sure I was eating better. However, things went wrong as soon as I had finished my plate. All of the food I had eaten churned in my stomach, and soon I felt it rising up my throat. I got out of my chair quickly and ran to the bathroom, barely making it there in time. Adam was right behind me holding my hair back as I emptied my stomach of all it’s content.

“You okay?” Adam asked and rubbed his spare hand up and down my back.

“I just need a minute,” I say and continue hugging the toilet.

“You sure?” Adam questioned.

“Yeah. I’ll be fine,” I mutter and spit out the tiny bits of vomit that had stayed in my mouth. Once I had gotten off of the floor of the bathroom, it was time for Adam and I to head into work.

“Well don’t you look like shit,” Jay commented when Adam and I entered the bullpen.

“Yeah, well, you look shittier,” I counter.

“Nice comeback,” Jay said with a smile as I took a seat at my desk.

“I’ve got to practice them on someone,” I joke. Jay and I had been friends for a long time, so this whole banter thing between us was just a way that we showed each other we loved one another.

“So, how long did it take after you ate breakfast to barf? Wait, let me guess. 5 minutes,” Jay said.

“Nope. 2. This baby is kicking my ass,” I mutter.

Second Trimester

At 5 months pregnant, it was getting harder and harder to do things. My stomach was growing bigger every week, and soon I would be huge. Now that I was in my second trimester, we were able to find out the gender. I wanted it to be a surprise, but Adam really wanted to find out if we were having a girl or boy. I ended up agreeing only because I wanted to have the rest of our team be with us when we found out. Kim had practically begged me to plan the party, so I let her. All she needed me to do was show up. The party was being held in our backyard too, so it was even easier.

“I’m so excited,” Adam chirped as he shoved practically a whole blue cupcake down his throat.

“I can tell. Now would you stop eating the cupcakes? That’s your third one,” I point out.

“I can’t help it. I’m trying to calm myself down,” Adam said.

“Well, I don’t think eating sugar is going to calm you down. Go talk to Kevin or something,” I suggest. “Maybe that’ll help.” After a while, it was finally time for the moment of truth.

“You ready for this?” Adam asked me as our friends gathered around us with confetti poppers.

“Not even a little bit,” I admit.

“All right. On the count of three. 1....2....3!” Kim shouted. All at once, everyone set off their confetti poppers, and blue confetti rained down on Adam and I. Adam was the first one to react and pulled me in for a hug, spinning me around as he gripped me tightly. Adam had been hoping that we were going to have a boy. Not that he didn’t want a girl, but he really wanted a son. Looks like he was getting his wish.

“We’re having a boy,” Adam cheered as he set me down.

“Congrats, you guys. Oh, and just so you know, I’m going to spoil this kid so much when he grows up,” Jay spoke.

“Well I would hope so, seeing as I want you to be his godfather,” I say to my partner.

“Wait. Are you serious?” Jay asked with a small.

I nodded. “Yeah. You’re my best friend, Jay.” Jay then walked over and gave me a hug.

“You’re the best,” Jay declared.

Third Trimester

I leaned against the door frame and watched as Adam used the paint roller to put a coat of navy blue paint on the walls of the nursery. I would have helped, but seeing as my stomach was huge and I could barely bend down to put on my shoes, Adam said he would do it on his own.

“You should take a break,” I tell him. “You’ve been painting for an hour straight.”

“But I’m just about done with the first coat,” Adam pointed out.

“I know, but Baby Boy is asking for you,” I say. Every time the baby would start kicking a lot, he wouldn’t settle down until he heard Adam’s voice. I could already tell the baby was going to love his dad, and he wasn’t even born yet.

“Of course he is. He’s a daddy’s boy,” Adam spoke and set the paint roller into the paint tray before making his way over to me. “Where’s he at this time?”

“Right here,” I answer and point to my lower stomach. “He’s been kicking me in the ribs for the past 5 minutes.”

Adam laughed and placed his hands on either side of my very visible stomach, which was being covered in one of his t-shirts. “All right. Lets see. What to talk about. Oh. Uh, today at work, we caught a bad guy who was selling heroin to teenagers.”

“Adam, I don’t think you should be telling him about drugs,” I exclaim with a small smile.

“Ok. Fine. Your mommy and I are super excited to meet you. You are going to be the most loved baby on the planet. And while we are both super nervous right now, I know things are going to okay as soon as we hold you in our arms. I can promise you that,” Adam said.

After Birth

"You look just like me,” Adam told our son as he walked around the room with the little boy in his arms. “That’s going to be such a huge asset later on, little man.” Just then, the door to my hospital opened, and in walked the Intelligence Unit.

“And the party is here,” Kevin announced.

“Forget about that, Kev. Where’s the baby?” Kim asked.

“Over there with Adam,” I say and point to the other side of the room where Adam was. Kim squealed and ran over to him, followed by Hailey and Kevin, while Jay, Voight, and Antonio stayed back by me.

“How you doing, Y/N?” Antonio questioned.

“Good. Ready to get back to work,” I respond.

Jay chuckled. “Of course you are. You know, if I were you, I’d enjoy the leave.”

“Well, you’re not me,” I point out as Adam walked over with the baby nestled safely in his arms.

“You guys decide on a name yet?” Voight asked.

“Uh, yeah,” I mutter and glance at Adam who smiled. “We uh, we were thinking about the name Alvin.”

Voight smiled. “I think that’s a great idea. He would be proud of you two.”

“Okay. I’ve been waiting patiently. Can I please hold him now?” Hailey asked.

“Whoa whoa whoa. I’m the godfather. I should get to hold him first,” Jay said.

“But I’m the godmother, which is equally as important,” Hailey countered. “And I asked first so...”

I glanced over at Adam as everyone started arguing about who was going to hold Alvin first. “This is going to go on forever, isn’t it?”

Adam laughed. “Yeah. We better get used to it now. This probably won’t end until Alvin is at least 3, 4 tops.”

“Well, this is what we get for having the newest baby in the Intelligence Unit,” I say.

“Yeah, but I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Adam spoke and kissed my cheek.

___________________________

Tag List:

@prettypyschoinpink @securityfriendly-jay @scarletsoldierrr @lorenakaspersen @virtualreader @carnationworld @caitsymichelle13 @anotherfan07

#one chicago #chicago pd #adam ruzek #adam ruzek imagine #adam ruzek x reader #district 21 #x reader #imagine #imagines #adam ruzek imagines

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devendrasbeard · 3 years

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Only If For A Night

Prompt: They’ve had a few drinks Relationships: Eskel/Jaskier Rating: E Content Warnings: Drunkness, Drunk Kissing, Drunk Confessions Summary: Eskel is a private driver for a very famous and very successful fashion designer. Having seen the more private side of his boss, he eventually develops feelings for him. One night of drunken confessions can bring a massive change to their professional relationship.

Also on ao3!

"My dear friends, acquaintances, sponsors and clients!" Jaskier's happy voice, amplified by several speakers around the small stage, echoed across the hall. "Thank you for gathering here tonight, so that you'll be the first ones to see, admire, and buy the newest designs from my Dandelions collection!"

A round of applause and excited gasps was heard as a group of androgynous models dressed in wonderfully flowy gowns joined Jaskier on the stage. The clothes were kept in a gender neutral fashion, the fabrics thin as if made of morning mist, but at the same time vibrant with colors, their ethereal vibe contrasted with black hemming at the edges.

"In the next hour the models will be available for you, so that you can get a feel of the clothes, talk about how comfortable of a wear these are. You can even try something on, if the models let you!" Jaskier continued into the microphone. "Just remember - these are real people, not coat hangers! I expect respect towards them and no stepping over any boundaries!"

Eskel stood at the far end of the hall, leaning comfortably against a wall, now and then taking a sip from his glass of water. The day was very hot as for late May, so he was wearing a simple white buttoned up shirt with short sleeves and some black slacks instead of his usual suit ensemble. He loosened the knot in his thin black tie, as he watched Jaskier walk down from the stage and fall into the embrace of his enthusiastic friends.

He liked watching Jaskier, his boss, from afar. Jaskier was fierce, flamboyant and bubbly around his friends, at events, and in front of the media people, but when he thought nobody was looking, his face turned pensive, sometimes even sad. That melancholic, brooding side of Jaskier showed up mostly in the evenings, when the lights went out, his friends went home and it was just him and Eskel driving him home. Eskel liked that side of him.

A few hours into the after party Jaskier approached him, hugging a whole bottle of bourbon to his chest. His cheeks were flushed, blue eyes glistening, his elaborate hairstyle already mussed a little. "Fuck me if this isn't the best collection I've made so far."

Eskel nodded, trying to suppress a chuckle. Whenever Jaskier was tipsy, he forgot about any conventionalities and talked to Eskel as if he was his long time buddy, not his private driver. "It's really good." Eskel admitted. "Need my assistance with anything?"

Jaskier placed a warm palm on Eskel's chest, his bright blue eyes looking up at him. "I wanna go home, my head feels dizzy from all the hugs, fake kisses and congratulations."

"You're sure it's the congratulations and not the bourbon?" Eskel cocked his head, raising a brow in amusement.

"Hey!" Jaskier's long finger was now poking at Eskel's chest. "I pay you to drive me around, not to judge my life's choices."

"Let's go then, I'll drive you home," Eskel nodded and led Jaskier to the door, desperately trying not to wrap a protective arm around his boss' frame.

****

Jaskier ducked his head through the partition divider, resting his chin on his hands. The strong smell of alcohol mixed with Jaskier's flowery cologne hit Eskel's nose. "Do you like me, Eskel?" He whispered, too close to Eskel's ear.

Eskel shot him a quick glance through the rearview mirror, clearing his throat. "How do you mean?"

"Am I likeable?" Jaskier pouted and cocked his head to the side, to lay it on the cold metal frame of the divider. "Do you like me as a person? I know I am trying to be a good boss and I hope you're satisfied with the work you're doing here for me and that I'm not a pain in the ass for making you drive me around... But am I likeable as a person? Can you even look at me as a person and not your boss, slash famous designer?"

Eskel huffed, feeling goosebumps creeping up his neck. So today's drunk Jaskier's mood was philosophical. Through his last year of driving Jaskier around he's seen him in every sorry state - from being awkwardly horny after a hook up gone wrong, through being insanely euphorical and singing at the top of his lungs in the back seat, to being absolutely shit-faced, making Eskel stop the car every five minutes, so that he could get out and barf on the sidewalk.

But Jaskier asking him if Eskel liked him caught him off guard. What was he supposed to say to that? That ever since he started working for him, he wanted to wrap his arms around Jaskier and kiss him so hard he'd forget his own name? That his heart fluttered everytime Jaskier sent him that deep look and loving smile when they accidentally locked eyes in the rearview mirror? That he's been yearning to spend every second of his life with him? That he loved everything about him - his generosity, his laugh, his creative mind? This wasn't Eskel's place, he was just Jaskier's employee, yet he felt compelled to say something. "You're a good person, Jaskier." He tried.

"Then how come that on the day my newest collection premieres..." He stopped, interrupted by a series of hiccups. "Why is that, that people hug me and kiss me and yet..." He plopped dramatically onto the back seat and sighed. "Why am I yet again going home alone?"

Eskel sighed, a feeling of a thousand needles prickling on his skin. He wanted to pull Jaskier up and wrap him in a tight embrace and scream at the top of his lungs that he was there for him, always, forever! Instead he sighed again, turned to Jaskier for a second and asked, "Should I put your fave music on?"

"Yes, please," Jaskier mumbled. "Thank you, Esk."

****

"We're here," Eskel turned to Jaskier after he parked the limo outside of Jaskier's apartment building. "Is there anything else I can do for you tonight?"

Jaskier smiled at him, sitting splayed all over the backseat, his hair a mess and his shirt already halfway open, giving Eskel more than a sneak peek of his thick chest hair and the several necklaces dangling on his torso. Eskel swallowed thickly, his mouth suddenly dry, and then Jaskier leaned forward and whispered, "You can come upstairs with me."

Eskel's eyes widened, a hotness creeping up his neck. It was all he ever wanted, but he felt he shouldn't do it tonight, not with Jaskier in this state of mind. He had to think and be reasonable for them both. "Jaskier... You're drunk and tired, I don't think that's a-" A warm finger on his lips shut him up.

"That bottle of bourbon won't empty itself," Jaskier tried for a seductive smile which turned out pretty wonky, but still managed to tug at Eskel's heartstrings. "C'mon, just one drink? You can probably drive after one drink?"

Eskel huffed, his mind racing and trying to weigh all the pros and cons of the situation he's gotten himself into. Jaskier looked at him with pleading eyes, not saying anything, waiting for Eskel's move. "Okay, one drink."

They got out of the car, Jaskier propping himself up on Eskel's shoulder as they entered the building. "Good morning, Jerome," Jaskier addressed the concierge with a wide smile.

"It's midnight, Mr. Pankratz," the concierge rolled his eyes, the look on his face indicating he's seen Jaskier in this state more than once.

As soon as they got into Jaskier's penthouse, Jaskier moved straight to the alcohol cabinet, leaving Eskel in the middle of the spacious living room. Eskel looked around the place, admiring all the art pieces on the walls and various trinkets scattered around the furniture. But the view from the vast windows was what truly mesmerized him - he moved towards the glass walls, gazing down at the night city, so calm and otherworldly from here.

"Thank you for joining me," Jaskier's voice next to him startled him a little. "I really didn't want to be home alone tonight," he added quietly.

"No problem," Eskel smiled at him, noticing that now besides the bourbon bottle, Jaskier was also nursing a flask of red wine. He held both up for Eskel to choose his drink from. Eskel took the wine bottle and asked, "Should I fetch us some glasses, or do I just chug straight from the bottle?"

Jaskier patted his shoulder lightly, laughing too loud, as if Eskel told a joke, then hiccuped a little. "I'll get us some glasses, you..." he waved towards the sofas and armchairs, "you make yourself comfortable."

Eskel didn't get to sit yet when he heard the sound of breaking glass and a sharp hiss coming from the kitchen. He jumped up, leaving the wine bottle on the table and moved towards Jaskier.

"It's nothing, it's nothing," Jaskier was already kneeling on the floor, clumsily collecting the broken pieces of a wine glass. "Guess everything went too smoothly for me today."

The sigh that left Jaskier's lips sounded more like a broken whimper and Eskel's heart physically hurt at the sight of his famous and successful boss looking so small and pitiful in the middle of his kitchen. He felt like crying. "Leave it, I'll clean it up," he offered. "Maybe you should go to bed, lay down a little?"

Jaskier looked up at him, the gaze of his blue eyes unfocused. He pointed at Eskel with his index finger while standing up. "No, you-... You've promised me that one drink!"

"Fine."

****

Two hours later Eskel knew he wasn't going to make it home that night. The wine bottle in his hands was almost empty, and he felt slightly light-headed and dizzy, but not drunk. Jaskier, on the other hand, was already edging on wasted, his shirt now unbuttoned, cheeks red, his words incoherent and slurry.

"Y'know, I'm fully aware of my... My pre... my pry... My privilege," he blurted out, "but yet I give myself permission to feel miserable from time to time... And now is the day!" he gestured with his hand, in which he held the bourbon bottle, spilling a little on the table.

"Okay, I'll take this," Eskel grabbed the bottle from him as Jaskier plopped back onto the sofa.

"How do you know who's your friend?" Jaskier asked, his gaze focused on the ceiling as if he was trying to find an answer there. "People hug me and kiss me and invite themselves into... Into my life and then what? They want free stuff, they want contacts with my famous friends, they want..." He stopped and looked over at Eskel, his blue eyes sad and pleading, as if he waited for Eskel to give him a solution.

"Look for those who stick around when the lights go out, when the party's over... For-for those who ask you how you feel and not what you can give to them." He felt the hotness of embarrassment creep up his neck, his ears turning red. He was talking about himself and he only gave himself permission to do so because Jaskier was drunk and wouldn't remember it the next day.

"That's... wise," Jaskier nodded and reached out with his hand to pat Eskel's cheek. Then his eyes narrowed as if he was trying to remember something important. "You never asked me for anything."

Eskel cleared his throat, and turned his face away from Jaskier, to hide his unease. "I'm... I'm fine. I'm happy with my job."

"Yeah? What do you do for a living?" Jaskier asked.

That caused Eskel to chuckle, and Jaskier followed with his pearly laugh, although he didn't know what was going on, and in a moment they were both laughing loudly and snickering like children. Jaskier patted Eskel's knee several times before leaning back onto the sofa.

"Jaskier, I work for you. I drive you around, remember?" Eskel said, wiping tears of mirth from the corner of his eye.

"Right." Jaskier nodded. "I hope I pay you well."

"You're a good boss," Eskel smiled. They locked eyes for a long moment, not saying anything. Jaskier licked his lips subconsciously and Eskel had to look away, the sight causing a warm feeling to coil in his stomach. "Alright, boss, time to get you to bed," he cleared his throat. "I'll crash on the couch if you don't mind, can't really drive now."

"Oh no no, no sleepin' on couches in my house! I have guest rooms for guests!" Jaskier stood up abruptly, too quickly for the drunken state he was in. His foot kicked the table leg and he wobbled a little, losing his balance.

He landed in Eskel's lap, Eskel instinctively putting a protective arm over him to save him from falling over and onto his back. Jaskier grabbed Eskel's shoulder for balance and suddenly their faces were incredibly close. So close Eskel could smell Jaskier's cologne, now suppressed by the tangy scent of bourbon. He was so close that Eskel could see those tiny crows feet forming at the corners of Jaskier's eyes, he could notice his flared nostrils and the wet shimmer on his lips. He swallowed audibly.

"Whoo, that was close. Thank-... Thank you," Jaskier laughed lightly and squeezed his shoulder. In a silent reply, Eskel caressed Jaskier's back gently, so delicately as if he didn't want Jaskier to feel it. But apparently Jaskier did, because he leaned forward and pressed a soft butterfly kiss to Eskel's lips. He pulled away and looked Eskel deep in the eyes, while undoing his tie. "Could you... Can you, just for tonight, forget that I'm your boss?" he asked quietly.

Eskel looked at him wide eyed, frozen in place and unable to speak. But when Jaskier gave his tie one last slight tug, he was lost. He's been waiting for that little sign, for a nod of permission, and as soon as he got it, he launched forward, pushing Jaskier off his knees and pressing him down onto the sofa with his weight.

He kissed him, reluctantly at first, but when Jaskier let out the first quiet whimper of pleasure, Eskel was all lost on him. He pressed his lips to Jaskier's, with his eyes closed, trying to put into that kiss all that yearning and longing he'd felt for Jaskier for months.

Jaskier was under him, sighing and panting, arching into Eskel’s touch. Responding to every kiss with passion. Eskel moaned into Jaskier's mouth as his hands roamed under his already open shirt, caressing the soft skin on Jaskier's sides, skimming over his chest hair and slightly tugging at the multiple necklaces on his neck.

Jaskier sat up and fumbled with the buttons on Eskel's shirt, his now clumsy fingers too uncoordinated to undo them. He tugged desperately at the shirt, causing two buttons to pop off and fall to the floor. They both looked at them, Jaskier with a hint of embarrassment, Eskel amazed with Jaskier's strength. Jaskier pulled at Eskel's shirt and dragged him into another heated kiss. "Off! Just take that shirt off," he demanded between kisses.

As he stripped off of his shirt, Eskel noticed how Jaskier's eyes glistened and how he licked his lips lusciously, before launching himself at Eskel. He peppered his face, neck and chest with kisses, murmuring "You're beautiful" and "I love you so much" between kisses, making Eskel writhe with pleasure and whine with emotions, because he so wanted Jaskier to mean it.

"Can I take you to the bedroom?" Jaskier asked while tugging at the waistband of Eskel's slacks. "God, why is the belt so complicated?" He threw his hands up losing his balance and landing on the floor. Eskel reached out to help him up, only to be dragged down to the floor right next to Jaskier.

"Okay, bedroom it is," he laughed into Jaskier's mouth, who already managed to slot their lips in another heated kiss.

****

Eskel woke up with his head feeling very heavy, his mouth dry as if he'd eaten sand. He sat up, rubbing at his eyes, taking in the situation. He was naked, with only the bedsheets tangled around his legs. Jaskier was sleeping next to him, lying on his stomach, one hand draped comfortably around Eskel's waist. He was equally naked, his perky ass sticking out from under the covers.

Eskel watched him mesmerized, noticed how beautifully lean and supple Jaskier's body was, he watched how he moved slightly with every breath... And then tiny bits of memories of last night hit him like a wave. He remembered the passionate kisses Jaskier showered him with, how unbelievably soft and pliant Jaskier's body was under his touch, he recalled the weight of Jaskier's cock on his tongue and how wonderfully he moaned Eskel's name with his hand tangled in Eskel's hair...

One part of him wanted to leave before Jaskier would wake up, spare him the awkwardness of a morning after. They never planned on something like that, after all they were boss and employee, they just let alcohol get the best of them. The other part of Eskel wanted to stay, to savour the moment of absolute intimacy and vulnerability between them. That other part wanted all this drunken mishap to turn into something more than just a one night stand.

Then Jaskier stirred next to him, waking up, pulled himself closer to Eskel's chest and murmured a soft "Good morning." He sat up, dragging one hand through his disheveled hair, taking in the sight of their naked bodies. "So... I guess last night ended up better than expected?" He shot Eskel an embarrassed smile. "Did we... You know. Go all the way?"

"I honestly don't know," Eskel admitted sheepishly, pulling the bedsheets up to cover the both of them. "Are you okay, Jaskier? You didn't go easy on the bourbon last night."

"I'm fine," Jaskier waved him off, but his eyes narrowed and he worried his lower lip and Eskel knew he was trying to recall what happened last night. "I hope I didn't take advantage of you?"

"Everything I did, I did because I wanted to," Eskel said firmly, though he felt the hotness on his cheeks and ears at the memory of their naked bodies tangled together and Jaskier moaning so sweetly into his ear.

"Yeah?" Jaskier scooted even closer to him under the bedsheets. "Care to remind me what did you actually do?"

Eskel exhaled deeply, feeling Jaskier's hot breath on his neck, making his own skin feel too tight. The memory of Jaskier's body arched beautifully under Eskel's touch flashed before his eyes, and he cleared his throat. "I'm... I'm pretty sure I sucked you off."

"Oh." Jaskier's face was painted with astonishment, but only for a moment. In the next he was already straddling Eskel's lap, braiding his fingers in his dark hair, looking him deep in the eye. "I think it's only fair if I return the favour now?"

Before Jaskier moved down on him, Eskel grabbed his hands and made Jaskier face him. "Listen..." he started, mouth extremely dry, more of nervousness than hangover. "You said some very weighty things to me yesterday, that I really wished were true... But I know this could be just the alcohol's doing." He huffed, pressing his eyes shut. "If it's not what you meant, or how you feel about me, I'd rather leave now."

Jaskier sighed, deeply, but he didn't lower his gaze. He intertwined their fingers and placed a kiss on the top of Eskel's palm. "I remember one thing vividly from last night," he said. "And that is feeling loved and wanting to give as much love as possible back." He kissed the fingers on Eskel's hand. "If you felt the same, I'd rather you stayed. Forever, if possible?"

------

@witcher-rarepair-summer-bingo

#witcher rarepair summer bingo #eskel x jaskier #jaskel #eskel/jaskier #it was supposed to be a lighthearted fic about drunken shenanigans #what went wrong idek #hope you're ready for the FEELS #the pining and yearning #and pining #and yearning #and drunk jaskier

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the-edge-of-great · 4 years

Text

(っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ friendsgiving ♥

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

The silence that immediately follows “How did you spend your holidays?” is brief but deafening. Her heart sinks. She looks to Luke for help, but he’s watching the guys on the couch, eyes jumping between Alex and Reggie; the weight of the conversation seems to rest on their shoulders, and they don’t notice because they’re too busy avoiding everything, especially their bandmates.

So Julie backtracks, quickly. “I’m sorry,” she says, shaking her head. “I shouldn’t—Forget I said anything.” She reaches to fix the sheet music but realizes it’s already perfectly straight, and her hand falls flat, and there’s still an awkward silence, so she begins playing the start of Finally Free, which isn’t at all what they were working on, but this hasn’t happened before. She’s always been careful asking about their past because she doesn’t know how far is too far. And until now, she hasn’t struck out with any questions. They’ve been cool about it, mostly answering anything she wanted to know. If they didn’t want to talk about it, they kindly changed the subject. At some point, she thinks they became open books to her, and she them.

That’s why this question tumbled out so casually.

And that’s why the silence is scaring her.

Luke, finally, saves her. “We’d spend Thanksgiving with my dad’s family,” he tells her with a smile, which she immediately mirrors as her shoulders slump with relief, “and for Christmas, we’d go to my aunt’s place to party with my mom’s side. She actually lives in Pasadena.” He chuckles. It takes her all of five seconds to realize why that’s funny to him, and then she breathes a laugh and rolls her eyes.

“Holidays were always hectic for me,” Reggie says next. Julie’s heart flutters. “Like, three or four days of traveling to make sure we see both sides, both sets of grandparents, and somehow not barf from all the food.” He and Luke share a laugh, and Alex smiles faintly as he jumps to his feet.

“I just remembered,” he says, stepping over Luke, “I’m meeting Willie today.” He looks back at them briefly, his smile weak and probably forced, before vanishing.

Reggie and Luke share a look. Mumbling something about the beach, Reggie disappears too.

As soon as he’s gone, Julie’s face drops to her hands. “That was a disaster,” she groans.

“Family’s just a hard topic for them,” Luke replies quietly.

Chewing on her lip, Julie takes Alex’s spot next to him. “Tell me why?” she asks softly.

“Sure, since they outed all of my shit last month.” He chuckles.

“Whaaat?” Julie shakes her head. “They didn’t—” The look he gives her makes her stumble. Sheepishly, she adds, “They were trying to help.”

“I know.” Shaking his head, he explains, “Reggie’s parents fought a lot. So much that he didn’t like us coming over, like, ever. It was, seriously, all the time.”

“Fighting, like… arguing? Or…?”

“Just arguing,” he reassures. “They’d scream at each other, and sometimes at him if he got in the middle of it, but…” Luke sighs. “Just arguing.”

“And… Alex?”

He pauses, gaze dropping to his lap, and Julie’s stomach turns. She reaches for his hand, half to grab his attention again, half because she feels she’ll need a better alternative to digging her nails into her palm when she hears whatever he has to say. He intertwines their fingers, locking her hand in a grip tighter than she expected. If she wasn’t nervous before, she is now.

“Alex’s parents weren’t cool with him being gay.”

Julie sits up straighter. “What—What does that mean?” She needs better clarification because she knows what that could mean—she’s seen it on the news, on Tumblr and Twitter and Instagram, heard about it through the grapevine of high school—and her heart aches at the idea of Alex—sweet, caring Alex—going through anything of the sort.

“They didn’t kick him out which, I guess, is something, but they just… stopped caring. They stopped acknowledging him.”

Julie shakes her head. “They don’t deserve any praise for not kicking him out,” she says quietly, lip curling at her words. “Not for doing less than the bare minimum of being parents.”

“Getting angry over it is a lost cause.” He smiles sadly at her. “You don’t know how many times we talked about getting him out of his house. Both of ‘em. Bobby and I would spend nights out here, drawing up plans to run away to Vegas or something.”

“I should’ve never brought it up,” she mumbles. “I know holidays are hard for some people.”

“Hey, no, it’s okay.” He shakes his head, turning to her and taking her other hand in his. “It’s okay. You didn’t know. Besides, it was bound to come up eventually. Family’s just… different, you know?”

Julie sighs, shoulders slumping forward. She watches Luke’s thumb rub across her knuckles. Thanksgiving is in a few days; her house is going to be lively with the whole family. When Mom was alive, the studio was a place for the kids to hangout. Obviously, nobody went near it after she died. Dad locked it up before people began arriving. Julie wonders, as she looks around the room, if they’ll open it to the family again. Or maybe it should stay closed for the guys’ sake.

“So… No holidays?” she asks. “At all? ‘Cause… I have an idea…”

Luke raises an eyebrow. “What’re you thinking?”

“It’s this thing called… Friendsgiving.”

~**~**~**~

Star Wars and other movies downloaded to the computer? Check. Computer hooked up to the projector? Check. Two white sheets borrowed from Flynn strung up in front of the instruments? Check.

“Are the lights too much?” Julie asks, waving her phone around the room to show off her decorations. “They feel too much.”

“No, fairy lights are cute!” Flynn exclaims through the phone. “And you went through all the work hanging them up.”

“I know we think they’re cute, but will they think they’re cute?”

“Jules, they’re like puppies; they’ll be excited about anything.”

“Okay.” Julie nods. “Okay.” The lights are weaved around the loft railing and framing the sides of the sheets. She had to improvise with Christmas lights, so when she turns them on, instead of faint white, a soft rainbow glows off the loft and cascades down to the floor.

“Look okay?” she asks Flynn again. She doesn’t know why she’s so nervous. It’s just Luke, Reggie, and Alex… But Reggie and Alex haven’t had a good Thanksgiving in a while. So, okay, maybe there’s a little pressure for things to be perfect. Or a lot. Maybe the lights is overdoing it—

“Dude, what’s up with you?” she hears Alex say outside.

“They’re here!” Julie stage whispers.

“Okay?” Flynn says just as soft. “Go talk to them? And the lights are cute! Keep them on!”

“As Julie would say,” Reggie adds, voice getting louder as he nears the studio, “you’re acting hella sus.”

“Wait, wait,” Luke says, probably trying to stop him. “Just—Wait a second.”

“I’ll text you later,” Julie tells Flynn as she heads for the door.

“Julie!”

“What?!”

Flynn smiles at her. “They’re going to love it, okay?”

Julie stops, hand inches from the door handle. Taking a deep breath, she returns Flynn’s smile. “Thanks, Flynn.”

Feet shuffle out of the way of the door that swings open a few inches. Julie pokes her head out. “Hi there,” she says, grinning.

Alex squints at her. “You’re in on it too, huh?”

“Alex, honey, I planned it.”

Luke, who froze in the middle of holding Reggie back with arms around his chest when Julie stepped out, backs off and joins her by the door.

“And you guys never figured it out!” he says proudly, fist bumping her.

Reggie and Alex share a look that makes her think yeah, no, they totally figured something was going on. She giggles.

“Well, uh…” Julie glances over her shoulder. “You guys want to see what the secret is?” She leans against the door to push it open and waves them past. “Ta-da.”

Along with the Christmas lights is a lamp beside the couch, covered by a blanket to dim the brightness. In place of the coffee table she pushed to the side are pillows and blankets layered over each other. Board games she found in the loft are stacked high in the chair next to the couch. They’re a mixture of generations: some she received as Christmas and birthday gifts, and others that have been around for as long as she can remember—favorites among her family, especially her parents. Maybe the guys will remember them too.

The shelf behind the couch is empty except for the projector. She had to find an extension cord to plug in her computer and leave it safely on the couch (she may have tried to balance it on the shelf with the projector, but one close call was enough to look into alternatives).

After the door is latched behind her, she joins them in the middle of the room, playing with her hands. “I’m sorry about yesterday,” she begins. “I didn’t mean to bring up any bad memories.”

Alex shakes his head. “It’s not your fault, Julie. You didn’t know.”

“But I do now. And… I don’t know how you guys feel about the holidays, but I hope you give this one a chance?” She steps around them, kicking off her shoes as she goes. “It’s not an official holiday, but over the years, it’s become more popular.” She steps onto the couch and looks back at them with a smile. “It’s called Friendsgiving. Families suck sometimes, and you can’t choose them. But, you can choose your friends.” Standing on her tiptoes, she flips the projector on. A light beam shoots past them and shines across the bed sheets. Two was a better decision than one, it seems. The picture has plenty of room to spread out. Perhaps not the best quality, but at least they can watch it full screen.

“I have all of the Star Wars movies downloaded,” she continues, stepping off the couch, “along with a few others if we get sick of the marathon. I don’t know if you like board games, but I found a few in the loft?” She points at the stack.

“You did… all of this for us?” Reggie asks, almost breathlessly.

“Well, yeah. And Luke helped.” Luke smiles when the guys look at him. Julie adds, “I don’t think I could’ve guessed your movie taste without him.”

“There are some good ones on there,” he promises.

Alex huffs a laugh. He spins in a slow circle, taking in everything. “This is awesome, Jules.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, but… You’re wrong about one thing.” She freezes. Luke and Reggie look back at him. Alex shoves his hands in his jacket pockets, looking over each of them, the corner of his mouth curved in a smile. “You can choose the family that matters.”

“And it’s us?” Luke teases. “We’re your Chosen Ones?” As he and Reggie share a laugh, Alex walks away from them.

“C’mere,” he says with a laugh, pulling Julie into a hug. Alex gives some of the best hugs. He’s tall enough to tuck her head under his chin, and she can bury her face in his chest.

Luke and Reggie must move in, because Alex walks them near the couch. “No, no, she’s my Chosen One. You two go away.”

“We were here first,” Luke whines.

“But it’s Julie,” Reggie reasons. He shakes his head, a fond smile on his lips.

Luke nods. “Good point.”

“Still, you’re crazy if you think I’m just going to ignore group hug potential,” Reggie says, lunging for them. Alex pretends to try getting away, but he actually opens an arm for him, and now Julie’s squished between them. Not even a second later, Luke’s on her other side. They’re a mess of laughter until someone missteps. They fall in slow motion, it seems. Julie rolls off of Alex’s chest and into the arms of Luke, who hugs her to his chest immediately.

“Good thing Julie has all of the pillows of the universe here,” Alex jokes.

“Oh yeah, I called in every favor. They asked how many I wanted. I said yes.”

Reggie pushes himself up. He squints at the stack of board games. “No way! You have Candyland?”

Luke chuckles in her ear. “Are those Christmas lights?”

“I improvised.”

“I like it.”

Alex is looking at them. “Me too.”

Julie grins. “Thanks, guys.”

“Reg, Candyland or Star Wars?” Alex asks, rolling onto his stomach.

Reggie pauses, board game in his hands. “Can we… We can do both!”

Julie laughs out loud.

After a few minutes of clearing away the pillows (“Oh good, I thought we’d never see that rug again.”), setting up the game, and playing the movie, they’re ready: Candyland and Star Wars. Not how she ever imagined spending the day before Thanksgiving.

“Hey,” Julie says as she draws a card. It’s green. She looks up at them, smiling. “I love you guys, you know?”

They each share looks, grinning at one another. To her left, Luke draws next. “We know, Julie,” he says, moving his character forward. When he meets her eye, he tell her, “We love you, too.”

“Now, keep that in mind when I completely destroy all of you in these games,” Reggie warns.

Julie raises a challenging eyebrow.

“Bring it.”

#julie and the phantoms #jatp #julie molina #luke patterson #alex jatp #reggie jatp #some band fluff on this fine morning #this started out with a lot of angst potential but then i was like #no #i have a cuter idea #eog writes

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massivelycreepypineapple · 4 years

Text

Misfortune On A Flight

Request: Hi! Can you please write some period angst and fluff? I, For one, get very irritated and frustrated during periods, because of all the pain, vomiting, body weakness, no appetite. I would love to see some Jensen fluff here and angst also bc I read your stories earlier, and I love the way you write angst!

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Fem!Reader

A/N: I’m sorry I took so long, anon! Hope you like this!

Feedback is welcome!

Word Count: 1651

❅ ❅ ❅

The plane ride back home from Vancouver was one of the worst of your life. To being with you weren’t a morning person and the flight was at 4am. It also didn’t help that you were due for your period soon and the cramps were slowly starting to set in. You always got snippy and irritable during this time and Jensen more often than not ended up taking the brunt of it. But this time however, Jensen snapped back at your attitude, causing the two of you to get into a full blown fight right before leaving. He had been quite tired thanks to a rigorous shooting schedule and the exhaustion made him just as irritable and forgetful about what time of the month it was for you.

You took the window seat staring outside, trying your best to stave off the uncomfortably sick feeling seeping into you. Your body was tensed up and not to mention your emotions were all out of whack and all you wanted was to get back home and hide under the blankets until this passed. Jensen was beside you asleep. He hadn’t said a word to you the whole time and it was bugging you. But you were both too stubborn.

Just as you got comfortable in your seat ready to fall asleep a sharp cramp hit you, along with the telltale sign of blood flowing into your underwear. You sat upright flinching in pain. You quietly got out from your row, first class giving you plenty of space to not wake Jensen, and made your way to the bathroom with you handbag. You did what needed to be done and were upset by the fact that your favourite underwear was now ruined. But just as you were about to leave the toilet, a dizzy spell hit you. Your hand slammed against the wall while the other clutched onto your stomach to stave off the oncoming cramp.

There was a knock on the door, “Ma’am are you alright?” An air hosted asked, having heard a noise.

“Y-yeah, yeah I’m fine. Thanks.”

“Are you sure? You looked a little sick earlier.”

“I’m fine, thank you. I’ll be out in a minute.” You said, trying not to cry. This was getting to be one of the worst mornings ever.

Once you had calmed down, you got out the toilet and gave a small smile to the kind lady worried about you and made your way back to your seat. Jensen was awake by now and he looked up at you.

“Where were you? you were gone for a while.” He asked.

“Toilet.” You snapped at him.

He rolled his eyes at your behaviour, “Jesus, Y/N what’s your problem? You’ve been acting like a brat ever since you woke up.” He was glaring at you slightly.

It was your turn to roll your eyes at him, “Just leave me alone, Jensen.” You mumbled looking out the window. You heard him scoff and go back to his book.

You didn’t understand why you were so angry at Jensen. It wasn’t his fault that he was pissed at you. But right now all you wanted to do was be mad at him, but at the same time as you felt more and more sick, you wanted his arms around you. You didn’t realise that a tear had escaped from your eyes and you were trying really hard to not let out a sob. It didn’t help that the dizzy spell was back, making your stomach churn. You shut your eyes tight, as one of the worst cramps rolled through you, and you let out a tiny gasp. You felt a hand on your shoulder making you tense up.

“Y/N, what’s wrong?” Jensen asked, worriedly.

You couldn’t talk, you knew if you opened your mouth you’d puke. You just sat there shaking your head, shrugging his hand off your shoulder.

“Baby, do you need some water? You need to talk to me, Y/N. I’m worried.” He was on the edge of his seat, desperately trying to figure out what was going on.

You suddenly sat upright wide eyes, looking around for the barf bag provided to all passengers. You were shaking badly, your face clammy and sickly looking. Jensen finally understood what was about to happen and pulled out the bag from the seat in front of him. You grabbed it and threw up into it. You felt him rub your back, holding your hair back.

“It’s okay, I got you. Just let it out.” You heard him whisper.

Once you were finished, you rolled the bag and with Jensen’s help you made your way back to the toilet to dispose it and clean up. He waited outside till you were done and then walked you back to your seats. You curled up in yours shivering badly, which made Jensen reach for your hand luggage in the over head compartments to get a jacket for you.

“C-can you also get me some pain killers?” You asked him softly without making eye contact.

“Of course, honey.” He said pulling out some. He called the air hostess and asked for a bottle of water. He thanked her when she handed it to him and gave you the pills before opening the bottle for you.

You took the pills and settled down, waiting for them to do their job. Jensen noticed you were holding back your tears. He lifted the armrest between the two of you and pulled you close to him, letting you rest your head in the crook of his neck. This is what you needed.

“You got your periods, didn’t you?” He asked softly. To which he felt you nod against him. “Why didn’t you say anything, baby? Is that why you’ve been so snippy?”

“I’m sorry I’ve been such a brat today.”

“No, baby I’m sorry I didn’t realise sooner.” He sighed. “Are the pills working?”

Just as he asked you gasped out in pain. It was the strongest cramp yet, making your cry and hold onto him harder.

“Okay, clearly not working.” He mumbled pulling you closer. “I got you, honey. It’s going to be ok.”

“Jay, I want to go home!” You cried.

“I know, Y/N. We are going home. I know you’re uncomfortable and emotional right now, but I’m right here.”

Hearing you cry, the kind air hostess from earlier came over, “Is there anything you need?”

You were sniffling and tears streamed down your cheeks onto his shirt. Despite Jensen’s warmth and your jacket you were still shaking. He was rubbing your arm to keep you warm, but decided that you needed a blanket.

“Can we please get a blanket? She’s not feeling well.” He asked politely.

“Of course! Anything else?” She asked to which he shook his head.

She brought over a blanket handing it over to him and left. Jensen wrapped you up in it, making sure you were tucked in comfortably. Your shaking had gone down and you were close to falling asleep.

An hour later they were distributing breakfast. Jensen shook you awake. “Baby, breakfast is here. You gotta wake up.” He whispered in your ear.

“Mmm, I’m not hungry.” You said snuggling into him eyes still closed.

“You barely had a proper dinner, Y/N.”

“Don’t feel good, Jay. Just wanna sleep.” You said. Your stomach was churning again just thinking about something to eat. But you could hear the worry in Jensen’s voice. He was always very protective over you, but even more so during this time since he knew how much you suffered.

“Just a few bites ok? For me.” He pleaded, sitting you up gently. He thanked the girl handing him the food and helped you unpack yours before he started on his.

“I can do it” You said embarrassed that you were treated like a child.

He kissed your temple and said, “Let me take care you, honey. I know how tired you are.”

You accepted his help, knowing he wouldn’t take no for an answer. You could barely eat a couple of bites before you felt nauseous again. You pushed your plate away and leaned your head back, wincing in pain as a cramp hit you.

“I can’t” You managed to get out, tearing up again. Man, you felt so weak and embarrassed. All you did was cry the whole time.

Jensen sighed and took your full plate and his empty one, handing it to the person collecting them.

“Do you have to puke again?” He asked worriedly.

“Don’t think so. It just hurts a lot.”

“Come here” He said, pulling you closer once again, but this time resting his hand on your stomach rubbing it. His large hand gave the right amount of pressure, elevating the pain a little.

“Feels better, Jay. Thank you.” You said.

“Good.” He kissed your head. “You should’ve told me you were going to get your periods. I could’ve postponed the flight to when you were better.”

“I thought I had a couple of days, Besides, you were excited about going back home to Austin and I didn’t want to ruin that.”

“Y/N, you’re my home. Your comfort is my priority. I would’ve happily stayed back in Vancouver if it meant you’d be more comfortable.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you and I made you mad at me.”

He lifted your chin up and kissed you on your lips slowly. “Not your fault baby. Don’t worry about it.”

“I love you, Jay.”

“I love you too, Y/N” He said, puling out his ear phones. He handed you one, putting on the other and played your favourite songs to keep you distracted. You had another couple of hours until you landed, and Jensen did his best to help you through your pain. You both fell asleep cuddled up as comfortably as you could.

❅ ❅ ❅

TAGS BELOW

@hobby27 @akshi8278 @svmwinchesterr

#supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural x reader #spn #spn fanfiction #spn x reader #jensen ackles #jensen ackles x reader #period angst #reader insert #female reader #y/n #fluff #period fluff

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hufflepuffdean · 4 years

Text

alright so like. I just rewrote 15.20 in my head following most of the episode parameters and it’s amazing how much better it makes me feel? I do have an idea for a fully canon-compliant fic and I do feel a bit better about the finale than I think most do, but I wanted to barf this out lol. it’s not COVID-compliant, but again, it does fit what the ep was trying to do I think. I’m trying not to be like a Polyanna asshole or whatever because I’m seeing people be condescending as fuck but writing this out works for me so I hope this works for someone else?

the ep can still open with the montage and definitely still include Miracle. but make it clear way more time is passing. like, a matter of years. at least five. we can see Sam and Dean on various hunts but also them doing some normie things. Sam in a Zoom class (no, COVID doesn’t exist here, he just is busy lol) and Dean working at a bar. it’s clear they’re happy. and again, it’s clear it’s been several years.

I’m ngl I’m not super married (no pun intended) to Sam/Eileen like a lot of D/C fandom but it’s been established and it does work easily within the show without having to be like Awkward New Romance. so she’s there too sometimes.

there’s definitely a part where both Sam and Dean are looking through pictures of those they’ve lost. Dean can like look at a picture of Cas and say... thank you, I won’t waste it, looking at the picture. I feel like people would be pissed he’s not looking for Cas but again, I’m not totally changing the structure here to make the episode #actually a Cas rescue, and it would be hopefully clear why he’s not looking, that he missed him but thought it was what Cas would have wanted in his sacrifice. plus there’s a payoff at the end here.

eventually someone shows up with the uh, vampire juggalo case where they haven’t been able to save all the kids. I do not want them to be clowns and it is my version so they are not. anyway Sam and Dean go off on that hunt.

the barn scene... okay well first there’s no Jenny because dude I am obsessed with this show and have watched S1 at least four times and I love every minor character and I had no idea who she was until the flashbacks and also she didn’t even do anything wtf was that.

mostly I fucking hate that Dean has to die at all! but again, we’re sticking to the episode’s basic structure, just kinda cleaning shit up. sooo I guess the thing here is - Dean’s death needs more agency. maybe Sam and the kids are directly being threatened somehow and he makes the choice to jump in and save them even if it costs his life. this is the one specific bit I can’t really nail down (HA) so if you have any ideas feel free to send ‘em along. I feel better about it if Dean at least got some significant time to himself to live.

the goodbye can stay. it was well done, and I think both Jensen and Jared did a great job. I think things like “Sam should have tried to call 911, while in the middle of Bumfucknowhere Ohio″ or “Sam should have tried to pray to Jack, who already said he’s staying out of things” take away from the power of the scene.

you can have the montage of Sam mourning. it’s a while before he calls Eileen or anyone else, since he’s so devastated. when he does have Dean’s funeral, like, everyone who’s still alive is there. Eileen, the Wayward girls, Garth, anyone I’m forgetting. fuck it, Alice! the Lebanon kids! even random strangers, to show what Dean meant! at some point Sam should give the bunker keys to Claire too.

at the end Rowena shows up. Sam is devastated to see her, saying he can’t do a deal. Rowena just says she was there to pay respects... and tells him that Dean is not one of hers. Sam just kinda lights up.

now you can do the thing where it jump-cuts to Heaven. the scene with Bobby is good. I may write a post later about how Jack and Cas redoing Heaven is like the thing that makes the finale alright to me, but definitely keep that. the change here is that Dean does go into the Roadhouse, and it’s full of like every goddamn dead character we love tbh. Charlie, Mary, Rufus, Jo, Ellen, Ash, Victor, Kevin, Pamela, etc. Those are just characters I thought of off the top of my head lol. No John Winchesters Allowed but everyone else. also no Cas yet but don’t worry he’ll be there in a bit.

you can start the Carry On montage here but dear god don’t play that cover version.

on Earth, we see Sam and Eileen living. they have a daughter, thanks, though her name is still Dean. (I’ve realized I hate the “naming a child after a beloved dead relative” trope, but we’re clearly doing that so it’s okay.) maybe even make it so that they adopt one of the kids they saved in the barn. Eileen has like actual lines, whether she’s talking to Sam about how much he misses Dean and how it’s hard without him but he’s going to live for him, or whether she’s talking with Sam to Dean about how there are monsters and bad things in the night and sometimes mom and dad used to deal with them, but not any more. but they’ll still be careful. (the anti-possession tattoo can stay and salted windows and all that.)

Dean gets in the Impala in Heaven and you just hear “hello Dean” on the radio. it’s Cas, obviously. Dean does one of those killer smiles. they have a convo about the rebuilding of Heaven, and how everyone here, it’s Dean (and Sam) who brought them this kind of happiness. Dean’s like, Cas it was you too, of course it was you Cas. that can be it, orrrrr if the network would allow you to go farther, Dean can say, like. ugh I can’t put it into words right now but something that makes it clear he reciprocates. fuck it, have an “I love you too,” I’M mentally writing this lmao

the rest of the montage can proceed like normal-ish I think? I actually did really like it when Sam was “driving” the Impala at the same time Dean was driving it in Heaven. just please god get a better wig. also I do not think Sam’s only pictures on the mantle should be of like, Dean and John lol.

Dean’s tending bar in Heaven with the whole group there when he suddenly is like... oh... I think I have to take care of something. everyone knows and is thrilled for him. Cas comes along. (honestly this one’s optional in my mind, I think that scene at the end was really good as is, but I want a TFW reunion, sue me.)

bridge scene plays out, only Cas is there too and there’s a lot of hugging all around. fuck it put Miracle on the bridge too he’s an icon.

theeeee end. oh and no two seconds later cut to the actors out of character but still in costumes and the crew not in masks during a respiratory pandemic, please, it was very thoughtful for the fans and the crew deserves love I get it but also but really weird lol

#.#..#...#....#.....#15.20 spoilers #*

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errthel · 4 years

Text

Four, just Four

This is the fourth installment of my fanfiction that is twisted (hehe) from @tri3tri 's Second Wife AU, Tempest.

I have reached peak procrastination, and will continue ignoring my requirements until I have no choice than to do them, don't be like me, I have really bad habits.

To Florius, it was the first time in his immortal life that he was ever startles by a mere question. His golden eyes moved over to the freshman, he had a relaxed aura around him but his (e/c) eyes had lost it's glow making him look eerie.

"Hm... what do you want to know, surely you aren't interested in everything?" Florius' curiosity for the freshman had peaked even further and he was very much getting more interested in him

"Yeah you're right Florius-senpai, I wanna know who rule the Valley of Thorns." quick and calm

"It's a monarchy, like most kingdoms in Twisted Wonderland. The ruling family is the Draconia family and they're direct descendants of Maleficent."

"Maleficent?"

"One powerhouse of a magician she's one of the top five magicians in all of the lands."

"Is that so? Then did she use to rule over the Valley of Thorns?"

"Yeah, it's now passed down to her grandson, Malleus Draconia, he's also a part of the top five."

"Malleus..." Lucien felt an overwhelming amount of pressure when the name rolled off his lips

"Mhm, well right now the family has I think at least six members. Maleficent, Malleus, Malleus's parents, his concubine, Bellatrix and their son the heir, Victor..."

"A concubine? What about the queen?" Lucien said getting more interested in the royal family of the Valley of Thorns

"Well yeah, there is a queen, no one really knows anything about her though, not her name or what she looks like, nothing. Malleus seems keen on keeping the queen inside of the Valley of Thorns."

"Do they have any children?"

"Hm... now that I think about it, there are rumors that they have two daughters, one leading their military and the other leading magic studies. But it's weird, those two girls are older than the heir, they don't discriminate the gender of the heir in the Valley of Thorns, I wonder if anything happened."

"I see... then, thank you Florius-senpai, I will be going now..." Lucien said before walking back to his cottage

"I don't know why, but he seems a bit familiar... must be my memories getting mixed up, I am starting to get older after all..."

Lucien walked to his cottage in deep thought, he felt like he had spent an eternity to get there.

Malleus Draconia.

He remembers his grandmother wheezing that name after her nightmarish vision.

Is that person supposed to be his father? A sick psycho? One who just couldn't let go of an obviously hurting person? His behaviour is akin to that of a zoo keeper ignoring the sick animals.

Lucien couldn't take it, he wanted to do something, but being patient is a virtue, he should formulate a plan to get them out of that cage. He just regrets his stupidity when he forced himself to forget what his family looked like.

He sighs.

It seems he has to take things into his own hands.

The gloomy atmosphere of breakfast spoiled her appetite. Sitting beside her sister, who seemed like she was about to die of boredom. Infront of her was her father's concubine and infront of her sister was their half-brother, deeming them boring, the black haired lady looked over to one side of the long table and a monotonous scene greeted her eyes. Her father, in all his glory just staring off into the distance, he had barely touched his food and she was sure it was already ice cold.

"Renata, your mother didn't come down for breakfast."

Renata perked up when she heard her father mutter those words before she relaxed a bit and took a bite of her food.

After chewing for a painstakingly long time, she said "I don't know what is happening with mother, because it seems like someone is preventing me from meeting her." her response was as sharp as a whip as she glanced at the lime green haired guard beside her father

She heard the chair beside he screech indicating that her sister had had enough boredom and was ready to just leave.

"True, how can we know what mother does when some ridiculous person prevents us from even saying a hello. It's been like that for a few days, dear Father." hidden malice dripped from Sherry's mouth as she walked to the door of the dining room

Renate followed closely having enough of the sour soup that was served and shut the door with force.

"Waka-sama! Those two are getting out of hand, you should try to punish them." the lime green haired guard said in a small harsh whisper

"Now, now, Sebek, they are rather tame today. Also Victor, we are truly sorry for requesting for you to have breakfast here when you have just started out classes at Night Raven College. We'll prepare a mirror immediately." the deep polite words of the ancient being eased the people in the room

"Mhm."

"I am sorry, Lillia-sama!"

The ruby eyed Fae looked off into the open window. He sighs, he had a feeling that a great storm would pass over soon.

The two sisters walked synchronized, each carrying malice towards the king. They separated ways and left to their respective posts.

The lime green haired guard's gaze hardened, those two girls! They don't act like the princesses they were supposed to be. He knew that that woman was the worst person his lord could have children with, their children are uncooperative and rude.

The concubine bade her son good bye as he was escorted to a mirror leading to Night Raven College, she held a small smile in her youthful face, proud that her son was chosen to go to Night Raven College, just a bit angry that he was sorted into Pomefiore and not Diasomnia.

The heir clenched his teeth together, even when he was there, his father only talked to his daughters! What was the point of him being there?! Just an afterthought? No, he was done being an afterthought.

The king stayed silent before he sighed. It had been ten years since he got his wife and children back, they had tantrums even worse than this, but why does he have a sickening feeling like it's starting to get worse than this.

Lucien's lessons were surprisingly easy for him to comprehend, sure it had been only a week, but he was sure that he could survive. But one thing he wasn't so sure about was money. He wasn't able to find a place to convert his money to madols so he was basically broke. He wasn't so sure on how to gain money though.

Lucien walked around the campus after school to try to rack his brain for ways to get money.

Sell stuff? No, the school already has a school store.

Try to become a servant to one of these princes? No, he's very used to having his whole day to himself.

What could he do?

"Hey! Hey freshman!" realizing that the voice was referring to him, he quickly looked behind to see a short male with black hair and porcelain skin

"Ee- yes?" Lucien gave a lopsided smile making the other male's eyes sparkle

"Ohh! So it is true! You really are handsome! Why not join the Modeling Club?!" he said, extreme optimism exuding from his straightforward request

"Eh? Uh, I don't really think I'm cut out for that kind o-"

"You can earn money in this club."

"!"

"As I said, Lucien-chan, you can earn real money through this club, you need money don't you? Oh and also I'm Noel LeBlanche, a second year here." he gave Lucien a knowing smile making Lucien just look at him like he grew two heads

"LeBlanche-Senpai. You're right. I need money, so I guess I join the club?"

"Hm... LeBlanche-Senpai sounds weird, just call me Noel-Senpai or... Noel-chan?" he said using one of his long porcelain fingers to rub Luciens left pec through his uniform as he smirked a little

"Noel-Senpai!"

"Fine~ suit yourself. Well then, I'll bring you to the club room so you can start earning money as soon as possible!" he said grabbing Lucien's hand and just running off with him in tow

Lucien felt powerless in Noel's hand, he felt like paper just being aggressively carried by the wind, or in this case, Noel. He feels like he's going to barf.

The blond freshman entered his cottage with a tired face, he came back from club work and was exhausted.

He looked over with a smile to his friends desk to see that Lucien was missing and he screamed.

"Lucien! Where are yo?!-"

"Brier-sama, he's over there." the newly showered Linden said gesturing over to the first years bed

"Eh? But he always did his homework at his desk after classes."

"Well, he recently joined a club." Hawthorne said popping up out of nowhere, dispite that, it phased no one

"I can't really see a club exhausting someone that much..." Brier trailed off

"Yes, but we have to take account that Lucien has half the energy and motivation of a regular human, so club activities will definitely tire him out." Hawthorne said while Linden nodded

"Oh, is that so? Well we should prepare some tea to boost his energy! Let's go Hawthorne! Linden, you can watch over Lucien if you want!" the two louder cottagemates sprung to go to the central cottage to get some tea ready while Linden approached Lucius who layed pitifully exhausted on his belly

"I do wonder what club you joined." he said after crouching on the ground and rocking a bit

"The Modeling Club..." Lucien managed to wheeze out

"...You have my condolences..." Linden muttered unceremoniously while Lucien wheezed like a dying alpaca

Lucien's mind drifted off to what his life did for the last two hours.

"Ohh! You really are handsome!" a boy with lovely blond hair and glowy brown eyes said, he greeted Noel and Lucien when they came inside the expansive club room

The clicks of cameras, people practicing their walking, eating snacks together, taking selfies on their phones, gave the club room an energetic feel and was something Lucien didn't expect at all.

"Lucien, this is Asher. He's the vice president of the Modeling Club!" Noel gestured to the blond haired boy which Lucien greeted

"Nice to meet you Asher-senpai."

"Ohoho! The rumors were true after all! This one's a dandy! Alrighty, let's get you camera ready! Give him something like a suit!"

"Eh! Right now?!"

"Yes right now Lucien-chan. Today will be the start of your blossoming modeling career ;) ~"

"That's how I got to model outfit after outfit for two hours." Lucien said whilst eating up the soup Brier and Hawthorne got for him

"Ohh! I heard about Noel-senpai, he's a really big influencer! No doubt will people start to flock you when he posts picture of you!" Brier said

"Mhm, Noel is pretty cool." Hawthorne said while whistling

"I only really joined for the money..." Lucien confessed

"Eh? Lucien, you are a person who calculates everything, but you accepted for money?"

"Well, I am broke, it's more for security than actually spending, but I feel like I made a big mistake."

"Mhm, thinking of Lucien-san's personality, you definitely won't catch a break." Hawthorne said monotonously

"What's with that monotone expression?!"

"Hmm, well, since Lucien-san is handsome, I wanna see what the pictures look like." Linden said with a small, knowing smile

"They'll be posted tomorrow from what Noel-senpai said."

"Mhm! I look forward to seeing them!"

So, um, I just realized that there was a limit for posts. This was just like 23 pages in Samsung Notes. Yeah, so I had to cut down the last part but okay man.

Alrighty, we finally get some tea about the Valley of Thorns and boy was I like lollollollollol when I wrote this down yesterday.

That's most of it I guess, so part one of chapter 4 or just chapter 4 and the rest will be part of chapter 5, yeah, I guess it has to be like that. Frick this is going so fast and it's still Lucien's first week of classes,gotta slow down a bit.

#tri3tri #royal sword academy #malleus draconia #twisted wonderland #valley of thorns #bellatrix draconia #victor draconia #renata draconia #sherry draconia #lucien

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breathinginthevapor · 5 years

Text

“At least think of me while you’re gone”

Summary: your relationship with Tom is a secret, and you hate it. At a party, your feelings are finally confronted.

A/N: This is a very, very, very late (im so sorry taylor!) entry for @plushparkers 2k writing challenge, so a big congrats to her on reaching on that amazing milestone! I hope you guys will give it a read and tell me what you think afterwards!

Word count: 5600+

T/W: alcohol and swearing

My masterlist

To: The Worst Spiderman Ever🤮🕷❤️ (barf, spider and heart emoji)

When does your plane arrive?❤️ (heart emoji)

You hit send, putting your phone down on the sink. You pick up the mascara instead, painting your eyelashes black before the “Ping!”-sound from your phone startles you and causes you to draw a dark line just below your eyebrow.

“Fucking shit,” you curse, searching through your cabinet with frantic movements for a cotton pad and makeup remover.

While you try to remove your mistake, you look at your phone.

From: The Worst Spiderman Ever 🤮🕷❤️ (barf, spider and heart emoji)

Around 5. Don’t have to pick me up, though.

Throwing the cotton pad in the bin, you quickly type an answer.

To: The Worst Spiderman Ever 🤮🕷❤️ (barf, spider and heart emoji)

You know I want to. Missed you😘 (kissing emoji)

You smile at the thought that you’ll see him today, and that these last months spent longing will finally be over. In just a couple of hours, you will be able to smell him, talk to him, touch him. And yeah, maybe he won’t kiss you at the airport, but he definitely will later, when it’s just the two of you.

Another “Ping” lets you know you’ve gotten a new message, and you try to keep your cool by applying some lipstick, but your whole body is buzzing, eager to see his answer.

Soon, your lips are coated in a beautiful red shade, perfectly kissable in your own, humble opinion. Tom loves having your lips mark him, his jaw often covered in lipstick marks after you’ve been hanging out, and the fact that the popping colour draws attention to your lips doesn’t hurt, either.

You want him to hug you in the airport while he’s yearning to kiss you, yearning to see if you taste like that cherry lip balm he likes, and maybe you won’t when he finally gets you alone, but by then it won’t matter.

From: The Worst Spiderman Ever 🤮🕷❤️ (barf, spider and heart emoji)

There’ll be a crowd, and I’ll be too tired to do anything but sleep anyway.

You don’t understand. Does that mean he doesn’t want you to come? Or that he thinks you’ll get uncomfortable surrounded by his screaming fans?

Because you can deal with the fans, you’ve done so before, but if it’s because he doesn’t want you there, you won’t know what to do.

Before you can answer, though, another text shows on the screen.

From: The Worst Spiderman Ever 🤮🕷❤️ (barf, spider and heart emoji)

I’ll just see you at the party🕺🎆 (dancing man and fireworks emoji)

The welcome home party might already be tomorrow, but you still feel stupid. Here you’ve been, ecstatic for his return for weeks while he doesn’t even want you to be there in the airport. Besides, who knows how much you’ll even see of him tomorrow, everyone’s there to see him, after all.

To: The Worst Spiderman Ever 🤮🕷❤️ (barf, spider and heart emoji)

👍 (thumbs up emoji)

And yeah, maybe your answer is passive aggressive, but right now, you really don’t care. Not when you’ve spent days debating what to wear for picking him up and figured out exactly what amount of make-up you should go for to ensure you looking great but not over the top.

And now, he doesn’t even want to see you.

You find the makeup remover once more, this time removing all traces of the makeup you’ve just applied. You slide the cotton pad all over your face with harsh movements, and while it might not be the best way to clean your skin, it helps relieve some of the anger.

Both your skin and your eyes are red when you’re finished, but you don’t look at yourself in the mirror long enough to see the tears sliding down.

Instead, you go back to bed, crawl under the covers and cry to a sad teen movie you loved when you were younger.

The worst part is, you find that you still love the movie just as much as back then, all too similar to the way your love for Tom has done nothing but increase since you first discovered it in your teen years.

Tom’s parents’ house is filled up with people, but as Tom’s best friend through most of your life, you know the bigger part of them.

You spend a couple minutes talking to his aunt about her hip problems, but then you figure you want something to drink and excuse yourself.

There’s a lot to choose from, delicious sodas and expensive-looking bottles of champagne and wine, but you pick up a canned beer instead. You figure you need some alcohol as soon as possible. That way, you hope you’ll have the courage to face him when you have to.

You definitely can’t keep avoiding him, because even though the house isn’t small, it isn’t exactly a mansion, either.

You sip the beer, taking a few steps towards the wall to let Tom’s young cousins access the drink’s table.

Then, your eyes meet his, and you feel slightly dizzy as it seems almost unreal to finally see him in real life and not through a screen.

Still, you’re angry and hurt, and there’s a knot in your stomach. You can’t remember the last time you felt like this, the last you were angry at him. And maybe it’s petty, but you just hate the fact that you always plan everything around him, while he, when it comes down to it, doesn’t even want to see you after spending four months apart.

“Hey,” he greets you with a smile while still making his way to you, squeezing in between people and excusing himself.

“Hey,” you repeat, but your voice is cold as you take another sip of your beer. There’s a flicker of worry breaking through his confident, happy exterior, but it disappears quickly.

When he’s finally standing close enough to you, he engulfs you in a tight hug, and although you’ve dreamt about this reunion, this first hug in months, it doesn’t even feel that nice. Your body is tense, and your attempt to reciprocate his hug is half-hearted, so he finally lets you go and looks inquiring at you, still with a grip on your elbows.

“We cool?”

You swallow a lump, trying to put on a fake smile. You hope he doesn’t see through it, because although he used to be able to read your face as if it was a stop sign or a stupid brochure for a new pizzeria, it’s been a long time since you last saw each other.

“Sure.”

“Why are you acting weird then?” he asks, and you know he’s split between knowing you’re lying and the fact that it probably won’t help his situation to call you out on it.

You shake his hands off you to gulp down some beer.

“I’m not.”

He crooks his head, scrunching his eyes and looking down at his hands that hang loosely down his sides after returning from you. They start fiddling with the red polo he’s wearing, and you let your gaze wander slowly up his body, not missing how strong his biceps look or the broadness of his shoulder, before you get to his face to find him already watching you.

“You are.”

This time, you don’t argue. Why even bother?

A silence settles between you, so different to the happy chatter filling up the room, and you don’t know how to act. You don’t think you’ve ever experienced anything so awkward with Tom, he’s always been the one you could talk to for an endless number of hours, the one you could be quiet with, the one person in the world you were most comfortable around.

“Nice party,” you say when the silence becomes too much for you, but you hate yourself for being the first one to bow down. It seems that you always are.

He shrugs, “You know my mum. Always inviting people we don’t even talk with often.”

Perhaps it just runs in the family, you wonder; making people feel like they’re more important than they are.

“They’ve missed you,” you just tell him, knowing that it’s true. He tends to have that impact on people, squeezing himself into their hearts in a matter of five minutes. And once you’ve met him, it’s impossible to forget him.

“They?” he softly asks, and you know he wants you to elaborate.

When you don’t, he asks again, this time phrased so you have no chance to get out of answering, “What about you? Haven’t you missed me?”

You look away, your gaze landing on Harrison who’s laughing with Tom’s grandma.

“Don’t know why you would ask something so stupid,“ you mutter.

He steps closer, and you can feel his presence all over your body. His breath hits your face, and you can smell both beer and the homemade chips his dad is famous for.

“Wanna hear you say it.”

You look at him again, and like countless of times before, you are hit by his beauty. You don’t think there’s a single person in this world as handsome as him, but you might be biased.

Being in love with the same guy for years tends to do that to someone.

“Missed you so much it hurt,” you admit, and you watch his face soften. He’s so close that you could just lean forward and kiss him.

Needless to say, it takes everything in you not to.

Luckily, he steps back, and the enchantment is broken.

“I should probably talk to the other guests. Don’t want them to feel left out, do we?”

You force yourself to laugh, “Of course not.”

But everything in you is begging and hoping that he just takes your hand and leads you away from everyone.

You want him to say that he’s missed you too, that he’s been thinking of you constantly, but you know he hasn’t. Or, maybe he’s felt a pinch of pain occasionally, but then he’s moved on and forgotten about it. Unlike you, who has spent so many nights crying, wishing that he was laying right beside you. And you know that it’s not his fault, that your circumstances are different because he’s out there, doing what he loves most while you are drowning in boring schoolwork and waiting impatiently for his return.

He steps closer, and you think he’s going to kiss you, in front of all those people, and your heart starts beating terribly fast, but then he turns his head and whispers in your ear, “Will I see you later?”

You know what he means: Another quickie in the dark, no one finding out there’s any more than friendship between you. Because that’s how he wants your relationship to be, a secret, even from his own family.

It feels like a stake to the heart, and honestly, you don’t feel like he deserves an answer. Instead, you opt for a small smile that could mean anything and then you down your beer, leaving him there and walking over to your other curly haired friend, but not before handing him the empty can.

If he’s so determined to be the perfect host, he might as well clean up a bit.

“Hey Haz,” you mumble, throwing your arms around Harrison’s torso from behind.

He looks back at you and smiles widely, and contrary to what one might think, you aren’t completely oblivious to how good looking he is.

You wonder if you should have thought of getting some less pretty friends to make yourself shine a bit more in comparison, but you don’t think you’d be able to find someone who could make you laugh as much as Tom and Harrison can, not even if you searched the whole planet.

You just have to live with the unfairness of their unarguable attractiveness.

“Hey Y/N. Tired?” he asks softly.

You yawn, realizing that you actually are and confirming his question. He chuckles, and you press your cheek against his shoulder, closing your eyes for a second.

“I like this sweater. Really soft.”

“Hi nan,” you then greet Tom’s grandmother who has always insisted that you treat her the same way her grandkids would.

Measured in how much time you’ve spent with her and the rest of the family, you might as well be.

“Hello, darling,” she says, sending you a sweet smile. “I have to serve the cake now, but come catch up with me later, won’t you?”

“Of course, nan,” you promise her, watching her leave and then letting go of Harrison.

“Everything alright?” he asks after turning around to face you.

You shrug, “I guess.”

He rolls his eyes, pointing his finger at you in a reprimanding manner, “Tell me what’s wrong or you know what will happen.”

You can’t help but smile, but then you play along and squeeze your eyes shut and crossing your arms, “I’m not scared of you.”

“You’re not? Then you won’t mind if I TICKLE YOU?”

Harrisons hands reach for you, but you run away, squealing, before he can catch you.

“You’ll never catch me,” you mock him, running up the stairs and into Tom’s bedroom before realizing the inevitable: that you’re trapped.

“NOOOOO,” you scream as he pushes you onto the bed and starts tickling you, hands gripping your sides.

“Let me go, please, Haz,” you beg in-between laughs.

“You know what you need to say, Y/N,” he grins, and you shake your head.

“Never.”

However, it doesn’t take long before you surrender, throwing your hands up and rolling your eyes.

“Alright, alright, you are the hottest, coolest, cleverest, funniest person in the world, Harrison Osterfield.”

He immediately lets you go, plopping down on the bed beside you.

“Finally. My arms were getting tired,” he sighs contently.

You grunt, “Should spend a bit more time in the gym, then.”

“Oh, shut up, Y/N.”

He hits you playfully, and you both laugh, looking up to the ceiling and catching your breaths.

When you’ve stopped panting, you speak up, “Would you be ashamed of me if we were dating?”

“How can you even ask me that? You’re the dopest person ever,” he reassures you, turning his head to the side to look at you.

You laugh, “I can believe you still say dope.”

“What can I say, I’m just a dope person, too, Y/N.”

You roll your eyes at his stupidity, before a pang of sadness rushes through you. For a second, you wonder why, but then you remember why you’re feeling down and repeat your question for Harrison.

“No, but honestly, would you be ashamed of me?”

His blue eyes watch you intensely like it’s very important to him that you understand what he says, “Never.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

He laces your little fingers together, the ‘pinky promise’ an old ritual of yours.

“But why are you asking?” he inquires softly.

“I just- I’m just so damn tired of being his secret, you know?”

He gives you an empathic smile, letting you continue instead of answering your rhetoric question.

“I’m not even sure he likes me like as more than a friend anymore.”

You don’t mention a name, but you both know who you’re talking about. Although neither of your families know, it was clear to both of you from the start that Harrison would figure it out no matter what, and that you might as well tell him yourself.

“That bad, huh?”

You sigh, “Yeah. Not even exaggerating, I’m really not sure.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N, that sucks.”

“Sure does,” you agree, laughing involuntarily at the tragic situation, and Harrison soon joins you.

Then, he says softly, “If you aren’t happy, Y/N, you should let him go. You deserve better.”

“I know,” you whisper, “But I don’t think I can.”

He takes your hand, squeezing it and interlacing your hands, and no words are needed. You know he feels bad for you, and you both know there’s nothing he can do to ease your trouble.

“I wish it was you instead. We’d make such a great couple,” you tell him, trying to lift the mood.

He nods, grinning, “Legendary.”

“Shame we don’t like each other like that, really. Our kids would be so beautiful.”

“Maybe that’s why. Would be unfair to their peers when they’d be so much uglier.”

You shake your head, smiling at the thought.

Then, on a more serious note, “Thanks for being here, Haz.”

“Anytime, Y/N.”

He squeezes your hand once more and then helps you get up.

“If it makes you feel any better, he looked terribly jealous when you hugged me,” Harrison tells you, and though it shouldn’t, you catch yourself being happy with it. At least he’s not totally indifferent.

You return to the party, Harrisons hand laying comfortingly on the swell of your back the whole time, until it’s to go home. He presses a kiss to your cheek and tells you to hit him up soon, and you thank him for being such a good friend. He truly deserves the world.

You wish you could go with him, but still, you stay, having been tricked into helping with the cleaning by Tom’s mother, and really, you’d be happy to if it didn’t involve seeing Tom.

It’s hard to even remember what made you mad when you’re near him, and if that wasn’t enough, you’re afraid that you’ll say something you’ll regret later.

Because while this might be tearing you to pieces, you know it’d be much, much worse if you lost him completely.

Although you are deep in thought, you probably shouldn’t be as startled as you are when he speaks, considering you are cleaning the same room as him.

“I got a bit cold out by the grill, so I went to see if I had a sweater in my room, and I didn’t mean to, but I heard you and Harrison,” he softly tells you, eyes scanning your face for a reaction. You try not to give him one, pursing your lips tightly together and remaining silent.

He sighs, running a hand through the curly locks of his hair.

“Y/N, why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you what?” you mutter, looking away.

You wish this conversation wasn’t happening. You don’t even dare to imagine the outcome.

“That you feel like I’m keeping you a secret.”

You scrunch your eyes, looking at him again, “What did you think I felt, Tom? Honestly? You haven’t even told your mom, and we both know you tell your mom everything. I feel like I’m nothing to you.”

Your words are harsh at the beginning, anger in your body, but it quickly deflates and leaves you sad instead, making your last words soft and fragile.

And Tom looks taken back by your statement, stuttering when he replies, “I- I- I guess I just thought we were on the same page. That you didn’t care whether people knew about us or not.”

You roll your eyes, “If you truly believed that, you don’t know me like I thought you did.”

You let go of your hold on the black rubbish bag you’re throwing empty cups into as you wait for his answer.

“I guess you’re right,” he admits with a whisper, “I guess I did know.”

You nod, throat tight.

“Yeah,” you just say.

You stand there, looking at each other in silence, and you don’t even try to hide your tears. If there was anyone but him watching, you probably would have tried, but this is Tom, your best friend, the person that has broken your heart but also someone with hands you wouldn’t hesitate to put your life into.

He takes a small step closer to you, looking at you with desperation.

“I wish we could tell everyone, Y/N, I really do. But you know how my agency feels about my image and my availability,” he pauses, swallowing down a lump in his throat before he continues, “But if my next movie just gets big enough, it will be different, Y/N, I promise. Then they can’t refuse.”

You shake your head, your vision to blurred to see anything, but your mind is surprisingly clear. You don’t believe his words, and really, you just wish he would tell the truth, because to you, it seems that this mess has gotten so bad because of lack of honesty, and you’re done with it.

You’re done with being anxious all the time, not knowing if he’s uncertain about his feelings for you, even doubting whether you’re the only one he goes home to. You’re done with feeling inadequate and unlovable and stupid, waiting around for someone who doesn’t want to come home.

“Far from home was one of the best-selling movies ever, but apparently, that still wasn’t big enough. So, what’ll it be, Tom?”

“Are you asking me to choose between you and my career?”

You shake your head violently, not understanding how he could accuse you for doing such a thing, but then you nod, realising that maybe you are. And surprisingly, you don’t feel selfish doing so.

“Not between me and your career, Tom, but yes, I am asking you to choose between me and the stupid rules of your agency.”

Now, he looks angry, brow scrunched and tight jawline, “My agency and their stupid rules,” he starts, emphasizing the last three words mockingly, “is what gets me jobs, Y/N! They are the reason I can live my dream, don’t you understand?”

You step closer to him, not believing he would dare to treat you like a stubborn child. “Of course, I understand, Tom! I’ve done nothing but understand ever since we started this damn relationship, but I’m fucking sick and tired of it!”

Your loudness seems to surprise Tom, who takes a few steps back from your anger, almost tripping over your discarded rubbish bag.

“Please don’t do this, Y/N. Don’t make me choose,” he begs, and there’s a part of you that wants to give in, but the bigger part of you knows that nothing will change if you do, and that you’ll just stay miserable.

“I’ve known you for most of my life, Tom, and I’ve been in love with you for years, but I can’t do this, not if you’re not in it like I am. I can’t keep giving you my everything when I only receive 30% in return.”

Then, he says those words that you know will haunt you forever, “I’m- I’m- I’m so sorry, Y/N, but I just can’t. Please understand, I just can’t.”

You nod, but you don’t, you don’t understand. He won’t even meet you halfway.

You look at each other, and you watch how he clearly fights to keep himself together, and you can’t stay mad at him when he looks so broken. You’re always putting him first.

“Will you- will you promise me one thing, though?” you ask, voice hoarse and broken.

He nods, eyes wet and lips pressed tight together.

When you speak, there’s a salty taste on your tongue, and it feels like goodbye, “I know there’s so many incredible things out there, and I promise I don’t expect anything else from you anymore, but at least- at least think of me while you’re gone, won’t you?”

A sob escapes his lips when he nods, but he still doesn’t say anything, so you gather your belongings in silence, walking into the hallway, Tom only a few steps behind you.

Your hand has just reached the doorknob when you realize that no matter how hurt you are, you can’t just leave him like this. So, you turn around, throw your things to the floor and hug him, relishing in the smell of his cologne and the soft material of his shirt against your cheek.

His chest is shaking with sobs, and his lips feel chapped when he kisses your forehead like he’s done so many times when you were nervous or sad, even before your friendship turned into something more.

There’s a wet spot on his shirt when you pull away, and you smile through your tears, watching him through your blurred vision.

“I’ll see you around,” you tell him, but you don’t know if you’re lying.

You pick up your things, and he looks like he wants to stop you from leaving, but he just nods and says goodbye with a broken whisper, “Yeah, I’ll see you.”

Then, you close the door behind you, your body a mess while nostalgia, sadness, despair and love fights for dominance in your body.

If you weren’t so busy being heartbroken, you might have wondered if it was worth losing your best friend in return for some months in paradise, spent kissing and making love under the covers. And you would quickly have come to the solution that it wasn’t, that if you could, you would go back and undo all this mess and settle for being his best friend.

Luckily, you don’t think any of these thoughts, not yet. That sorrow is for another day.

“Ping!”

The screen of your phone lights up along with the sound, telling you you’ve got a message. You figure it’s Jake, asking which chocolate you want or if you need more tampons. You smile at the thought, finding it funny how Jake’s biggest fear seems to be that you don’t run out of sweets and sanitary items when you’re on that time of the month. You wonder if he’s scared you’ll turn into some weird monster, but it’s probably just him being sweet.

However, the text isn’t from Jake.

From: The Worst Spiderman Ever 🤮🕷❤️ (barf, spider and heart emoji)

Hey. I’m home for a couple weeks and I really want to see you

You can’t believe he still has that stupid name on your phone.

You delete all the emojis and text and write his full name without any emojis to follow, but your index finger lingers over the save button. Then, you go back without changing anything.

It feels wrong to do so, like deleting a period of your life that should, at worst, be packed away in a box in your closet and not completely thrown out.

On the other hand, though, the box seems to have jumped out of the closet and into your living room instead, making its presence known where it isn’t appreciated.

Still, there’s a small part of you, the part that was Tom’s friend and nothing else, wants to meet him and see how he’s doing.

To: The Worst Spiderman Ever 🤮🕷❤️ (barf, spider and heart emoji)

Hi Tom

You don’t want else to say, or write, so you just hit send and put the phone down again, your breath quicker and a spark of panic rising in your body. Even after all this time, he still gives you all the motions.

From: The Worst Spiderman Ever 🤮🕷❤️ (barf, spider and heart emoji)

Please don’t be like this

Be like what, Tom, you wonder, but you just text him the name of a coffee shop and ask him to meet you there in a few hours. If anything needs to be said between you, it should be in person and not through text.

From: The Worst Spiderman Ever 🤮🕷❤️ (barf, spider and heart emoji)

Thank you, Y/N. Really❤️ (heart emoji)

You really hope you’ve made the right decision.

“Y/N, I’ve been a fool, no, worse than that, I’ve been a big, stupid idiot, but I need you.”

His grip on your hands are tight, and you gently try to get him to let you go, but he doesn’t seem to notice.

“We’ll do it properly this time, tell everyone, and we’ll go on the red carpet together and-“

“Tom,” you interrupt him softly, and you just want him to stop talking. This will get embarrassing for both of you if he keeps going, and you don’t want that.

Unfortunately, he doesn’t let you save him.

“And I’ll be home a lot more, Y/N, I promise. We can travel together, to Paris or Seoul or Rio, and I won’t care who’s watching-“

This time, your voice is a bit louder, hoping it’ll get through to him. “Tom, please, stop,” you plead. Still, it seems like he doesn’t hear you.

He leans closer to you and looks you right in the eye, “I love you, Y/N. More than anything, and I don’t know why it’s taking me so long to realize, but I do, and I’m terribly sor- Why are you crying?“

You haven’t even noticed your tears before he comments them, but then you carefully, as if he’s made of glass, untangle your hands from each other.

“I’m with someone, Tom,” you tell him, and it feels like a knife to your heart when his face slowly falters as he realizes what you mean.

“I- what- who? When?”

“You don’t know him, Tom. He’s from school.” There’s a flash of relief on his face when he finds out it isn’t someone he knows, maybe even one of his friends, but then the hurt returns.

“When, YN?”

You swallow a lump, looking down at your coffee.

“Almost a year ago,” you tell him, knowing that he won’t understand. That he’ll think that you got over in the span of a minute and moved on, but it isn’t true.

So, before he can say anything, you explain, “He was in one of my classes and had asked me out before, and when you left, I just needed to spend time with someone who didn’t know you, someone who wouldn’t ask or talk about you.”

Most of your friends were friends with Tom, too, or at least they knew him, but you needed to be someone who didn’t.

“I told him from the start that my heart was broken, but he was so patient and waited until I was sure I was ready. He really helped me a lot, Tom.”

Tom nods, and you know he understands. Everyone has different ways of coping, and for all you know, he could have slept with half of the world in this past year. You know he probably did with a couple, and the thought doesn’t make you sick like it used to do.

You’re just sad that he probably didn’t have anyone taking care of him like Jake had taken care of you.

“Does he make you happy, Y/N?”

“I-“ you start, but it’s hard to get the words past your lips when you know that they’ll hurt him.

For a long time, you wanted him to hurt, to know your pain and know that he had lost one of the best things in his life, but now, after doing a lot of growing up, you wish you could find a way not to hurt him. Maybe if you lied, but he’ll probably always be able to see through you.

Knowing you have no other choice, you answer him honestly, “Yeah. He does. He really does.”

He gulps, looking away for a moment. You follow his gaze, watch the busy streets of London packed with stylish locals and less stylish tourists, and you wonder if it still feels like home to him. If home becomes a fleeting place when the whole world is at your disposal. You wonder if you’ll ever know, but you don’t think you will.

And as for yourself, you might never get to travel the world like you used to dream of doing, but you’ve realized it doesn’t matter. You have so much else, so many wonderful people in your life, so much love around you.

“Do you love him?”

You look at his face and know that he wants you to say no, that he wants this to be like a movie where everything works out in the end, and the guy gets the girl, and everyone lives happily ever after.

But this isn’t one of his beloved movies. This is real life.

“Yeah.”

A tear slips out of his eyes, and you notice they are beginning to turn red. You don’t know if your next words will make him feel better or worse, probably the latter, but you still say them.

“Not the same way I loved you, though. Don’t think anything can really compare to that. But I really do love him.”

It’s clear he tries to contain it, but still, a broken sob leaves him, and every fibre of your body yearns to soothe him, to protect him, but you can’t, just like he couldn’t protect you.

“Do you remember that last day? You told me to think of you when I was gone. How could you think I’d do anything but?”

“Tom, please.”

“I think about you every single day, Y/N, knowing that I made the wrong decision.”

He grips your hands again, this time so tight it turns his knuckles white with desperation.

However, you both know it’s not only your hands you’re talking about when you beg, “Let me go, Tom, you’re hurting me.”

His grip on your hand disappears immediately, his face painted with both sadness and guilt, and you don’t know who’s to blame for the fact that both of you have lost your best friend.

And you wonder if the two of you can work it out, if you can get at least an inkling of your old friendship back, but to be honest, you don’t have the courage to try.

Instead, you leave him there, in a coffee shop in London you used to love. And you know you will never have the strength to go back, not to the coffee shop and not to Tom, both places too haunted by bad memories now.

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thatguy-kai · 5 years

Text

MLB - THE MYSTERY OF LOUP GRIS

Chapter One

"Beware of the false prophets, who come to you in sheep's clothing, but inwardly are ravenous wolves." - Matthew 7:15

"Miraculous Ladybug!"

A great whorl of pink beams burst from Ladybug's Lucky Charm, whipping across the streets of Paris in a flurry of light as they mended the aftermath of the latest akuma attack.

When the beams returned, spiralling back into Ladybug's yo-yo, a black mass behind them split apart, a redhead woman emerging on all fours with a perplexed look on her face. The last thing she remembered was being harassed by some developers outside her greenhouse and a smooth, but dark voice speaking into her mind. Now here she was below the Arc de Triomphe, watching as gargantuan vines disappeared from the roads.

"Wha-?" she stammered. "What...happened?"

Within moments, whole crowds of people were gathering around them, applauding Ladybug and Cat Noir's newest victory in a great, euphoric wave.

Despite the work she had done today, Ladybug couldn't help but feel a little shy, rubbing the back of her neck as Cat Noir laughed and waved back at their admirers. After soaking up the attention for a few moments, the feline held his fist out towards his partner, smiling as he and Ladybug exchanged a fist-bump.

"Pound it!"

And like clockwork, Officer Roger Raincomprix emerged from the crowd, smiling as he fiddled with his navy police cap.

"Good job, Ladybug and Cat Noir!" he grinned. "We've can take it from here!"

Ladybug acquiesced with a nod and following Cat Noir's lead, leapt over the greenhouse's fence and across to the next building. But as soon as they were out of sight, Cat Noir suddenly grabbed her hand.

"Milady! A moment, please?"

Ladybug stopped as her partner called out to her, raising a single, bluebell eyebrow.

"Cat? What's wrong?"

"Um..." Cat Noir felt himself taken aback for a moment, his words caught in his throat as he stared into Ladybug's sapphire eyes. "I...uh..."

But he willed himself back to sanity, clearing his throat and taking Ladybug's other hand and holding it to his face.

"Milady," he began. "I know that you're busy and all...but in a few days..."

Ladybug angled her head. "Hmm?"

"Uhhhh," Cat stammered. "Well, I know you probably know this already...but it's alright if you don't, but I..uh...just thought you should know...just in case! There's an important day coming up, um and was wondering if you would..."

Important Day? Ladybug suddenly felt anxious, like she had forgotten something very important.

"Is it...your birthday?"

Cat Noir shook his head, forgetting his nerves and laughing as he squeezed Ladybug's hands tighter.

"No," he chuckled. "No, it's not my birthday, it's about us!"

Us. The word sent a short buzz of electricity through Ladybug's body. As Cat Noir leaned closer, she felt even more unsettled, watching as her blue-haired reflection in his emerald eyes.

"Don't you know?" Cat asked inquisitively. "It's been a y-!"

Deet! Deet! Deet!

Ladybug gasped as her earrings started beeping, shocking her awake from her trance.

Saved by the bell.

"Sorry, Cat Noir!" she apologized, slipping her hands out of his. "Gotta go! Bug Out!"

Ladybug drew her yo-yo and turned to leave, but stopped momentarily and turned around, patting Cat Noir's cheek with a nervous smile.

"Maybe next time, Kitty."

And without another word, she threw her yo-yo over the adjacent building and leapt off into the horizon, Cat Noir sighing disappointedly as he watched her disappear.

"It's been a year since we became heroes..."

Ladybug zipped over the Parisian rooftops, her thoughts buzzing in time with the busy street-life below.

It had been almost two months since their duel with Hawk Moth on Heroes Day, two months since the Miraculous Wielders of Paris had come together to face their greatest battle yet.

And though they had won, the battle had taken the heroes completely by surprise. Without either Ladybug, Cat Noir or Master Fu knowing, Hawk Moth had not only managed to launch a co-ordinated attack on Paris but had also unlocked more of his potential.

Ladybug had tossed the same thoughts over and over in her mind for weeks. Yes, the heroes had won the battle, but barely. Practically a fluke. They might have won the fight, but Hawk Moth had escaped, with new knowledge of his Miraculous - slipping through their fingers once again.

Ladybug stopped flying across the streets, landing on a rooftop to catch her breath and gather her bearings, the roof of Francoise-Dupont gleaming in the distance of the yellow morning sun.

But even worse, Hawk Moth had a new ally - the Peacock. Yet another new power on Hawk Moth's side. Ladybug had tossed the same thoughts over and over in her mind these last few weeks and had come to the same conclusion; that they hadn't won at all. The victory had been hollow.

The heroine's hand curled into a fist at her side, gritting her teeth until she felt like they would crack.

She had to get stronger. Both her and Cat Noir. Ladybug had consulted Master Fu about this after Heroes Day, but the monk had yielded no answers.

The heroine retracted her yo-yo cord as she came within view of the Francoise-Dupont. As she landed, Ladybug took a deep breath, her lapis eyes darting back and forth to make sure no-one had witnessed her arrival.

A weight released itself from her chest when she saw the coast was clear, front-flipping off the roof and into the school's atrium, diving into the locker room just as her Miraculous timed out. Streams of white and hot-pink light washed over her, a light breeze tousling her blue pigtails as 'Ladybug' turned into Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

A pink sprite hovered by Marinette's side, a mischievous glint in it's chibi eyes.

"Tikki?" Marinette asked. "Why're you looking at me like that?"

Tikki's sly smile grew, the kwami moving closer to Marinette's ear.

"Maybe next time, Kitty..." she cooed.

Those words sent a hot flush through Marinette's body, her cheeks turning bright pink as Tikki snickered to herself.

"W-W-Wha-What?!" Marinette stammered, her eyes wide as saucers. "Tikki?!"

"Since when have you been so friendly with Cat Noir, Marinette?" the kwami giggled, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. "Does Adrien have some competition~?"

Marinette gasped, her hands clapped against her cheeks as Tikki's laughter subsided. Millions of thoughts were racing through her mind like television static, overlapping and growing louder as Marinette tried to make sense of them.

Noticing her master's worry, Tikki put a hand on Marinette's cheek.

"Relax, Marinette..." she beamed. "I was just teasing!"

The chaos in Marinette's mind finally settled down, allowing her to form coherent thoughts.

The girl knew she'd be lying if she said that Cat Noir hadn't grown on her - puns, flirts and all. There had always been a bond between them, right from the moment that they had first met - a union that had only strengthened with every battle they fought together.

"Marinette?" Tikki asked, her pint-sized head angling with confusion.

But, in the end, their being together would only bring uncertainty - hurt even. They were two different people, masks or not and even if she could somehow bring herself to reveal her identity, would Cat still want her? Would he accept all of her? Or was he only interested in Ladybug?

The lie. The fake me.

Marinette sighed, opening her locker and fishing around for her books.

...And that wasn't even counting the biggest hurdle - Adrien. Marinette knew (from no lack of trying) that she could never forget her first love and that even if that love remained unrequited, dating another would feel like an irreparable betrayal, like she'd be breaking Adrien's heart without even having a place within it in the first place.

"I dunno, Tikki..." she sighed. "I don't wanna think about it...Not with everything going on..."

Marinette could practically hear Tikki hanging her head, the disappointment curdling in her tiny form.

"I just..." she sighed without finishing her sentence, gathering the last of her books and closing the locker.

-Until something hooked around her lower right ankle.

"Wagh!" Marinette cried out. Without noticing, someone had managed to sneak past the bluenette and trip her to the ground in a blur of sunlight, red walls and falling books, a guffawing laughter echoing above her.

Marinette removed one of the fallen books that landed on her head, the smug faces of Chloe Bourgeois and Sabrina Raincomprix towering above her.

"Clumsy trash!" Chloe remarked. "Maybe if you'd spent less time talking to yourself and more time listening to moi, I might actually be able to look at you without wanting to barf."

Marinette sneered at the terrible twosome as they left for the classroom, their cackling laughter echoing after them.

Right. How could she forget? Marinette was already at her wit's end balancing her superhero and school lives, so where would she find the time for dating? With her luck, there'd probably be an akuma attack every time she was asked out...

The girl let out a defeated groan, reaching for her scattered books with a forlorn expression.

But just then, a footfall resounded from the locker room door, becoming louder and louder as they neared Marinette.

"Ugh, go away Chloe..." Marinette spat. "Shouldn't you be on your way to class or some...thing..."

The bluenette turned to face 'Chloe' as she finished gathering her books, a pair of snow-white Doc Marten boots before her eyes.

An embarrassed blush formed on Marinette's face. Those weren't Chloe's shoes....

And then she finally looked up, a boy's face staring back.

The blush on Marinette's cheeks brightened as she looked upon him. The boy was a head taller than her, with auburn, fade-cut hair and skin so fair that it bordered a pallor. His clothes seemed just as unworldly, his lean form wrapped in a loose, sable-black drawstring shirt and ragged, white cargo pants that dangled just partway down his shins.

Was he some kind of traveller? A gypsy?

"-e do this often?"

Reality struck Marinette like a freight train as the boy spoke. His voice was low, but had a soft refinement to it.

"What?" Marinette asked, hoping he didn't notice her daydreaming.

"The blonde." he repeated, indicating in the direction Chloe had left. "Does she treat you like this often?"

Marinette felt shy all of a sudden, shaking her head as she put on her best fake smile.

"Huh? Chloe? Nah! I mean she does - but wait, she doesn't and u-um...there are others besides me! But y-you know...m-mostly me and-"

"Grow a spine."

Marinette froze, the boy's words cutting through her like a sharp blade. "H-Huh..?"

"I said 'grow a spine'." the boy spat, his eyes narrowed. "If you don't quit stammering like an idiot and learn to stand up for yourself, people will just keep making fun of you."

He straightened his leather shoulder bag, not even bothering to help Marinette off the ground.

"...That's the way the world works."

And he left without another word.

A wave of insecurity started to rise within Marinette as she watched the boy leave, groaning in defeat once more. Oh man, she barely even met a new person and he already thought she was a total dork. The bluenette knew she had her flaws but did that guy have to be so mean about it?

She sighed and hung her head, picking up the rest of her books.

But her self-reflection was interrupted by the sound of another foot-fall, a caramel skinned girl with large glasses appearing in the doorway.

Marinette's eyes lit up. "Alya!"

Alya's glassed face wrinkled with disapproval. "Marinette, what are you doing on the floor? Don't tell me you fell over again."

"No," Marinette grumbled as Alya helped her up. "It was Chloe. And then after she tripped me over, some boy started being mean to me..."

Alya folded her arms as Marinette dusted off the sides of her pants. "What boy? Was it Adrien?"

She gasped as she put a supportive hand on Marinette's shoulder, a sinister glint in her eyes.

"Girl, you tell me that Adrien was being mean to you and I'll have him dangling from the Eiffel Tower before you can say 'Ladybug'!"

Marinette looked at her friend with silent shock, clamping her hands over Alya's mouth as if in fear of someone hearing them.

"No way!" she exclaimed. "Adrien would never do something like that! He's too perfect!"

She stepped back as Alya rolled her eyes.

"Besides, this guy looked nothing like Adrien! He was taller and with darker clothes and brown hair with some kind of silver streak in it! Or was it white? I can't remember..."

Alya seemed just as puzzled as Marinette was.

"Hmm," she pondered, cycling through some photos on her phone. "Doesn't ring a bell. But you said he had a streak in his hair? Sure it wasn't Luka?"

The mere mention of Luka's name brought a hot flush to Marinette's face. "No...b-but, Luka wouldn't be so mean either!"

Alya rolled her eyes again as she tucked her phone away and started toward the stairs to class. "So what did this guy say to you anyway? What was it that upset you so much?"

Marinette followed her friend up the stairs, sighing with every step.

"He told me to 'grow a spine'. That I needed to stop being such an idiot and stand up for myself."

Alya glanced away coyly. "Well..."

Marinette gasped, a look of mock betrayal on her face. "ALYA! Not you too?!" The bluenette whined like a wounded dog and clung to Alya's arm.

"Mari," Alya sighed, patting Marinette's head. "You aren't weak at all. And you're definitely not an idiot. You're kind, sweet, sensitive and so, so talented."

Marinette could feel a 'but' coming from a mile away.

"...But you shouldn't let Chloe get to you. You need to be brave - to stick up for yourself!"

Her words made Marinette hang her head again. "I know, I know. But that's exactly what the guy said."

Alya laughed as they reached the homeroom class door. "Heh, maybe next time you see this guy, you should thank him."

"Ugh!" Marinette shuddered. "No way!"

The two of them finally reached the classroom, Marinette turning the brass doorknob with a delicate hand. "I don't think I ever want to see that guy ag-"

"Marinette and Alya!"

The girls froze as a voice beckoned them from the front of the room, a merigold-haired woman watching them with her hands on her hips. "Homeroom started over three minutes ago, where have you been?"

The two girls felt the eyes of the entire classroom upon them, Marinette smiling nervously and Alya shirking back towards the door.

"Sorry, Miss Bustier." Marinette quickly apologized, bowing her bluebell head. "I fell over and hurt myself in the locker room. Alya stayed behind to help me with my books..."

The stern look on Miss Bustier's face relaxed, her understanding smile returning, albeit with a weary sigh.

"I do hope you're alright, Marinette." the woman said. "But please be aware that it's your duty as Class Representative to set a good example."

She shuffled the papers in her hands together, tapping them against her desk.

"...And to welcome new students to the school."

Alya's eyebrows raised. "A new student? Who?"

"The one trying to get into the classroom."

Marinette and Alya shrieked as they felt a presence behind them, one that seemed to appear out of nowhere. As they jumped aside, their hearts pounding like fists in their chests, an aloof looking boy sauntered past them - stopping just before Miss Bustier's desk.

Marinette's eyes bulged when she realized who it was, his odd clothes and cold attitude setting off alarm bells in her head.

"Agh!" she exclaimed as she pointed at him accusedly. "It's you! The guy from before!"

The boy folded his arms coolly. "You were expecting Jagged Stone, perhaps?"

His reply made Marinette grit her teeth. She tried to come up with a witty retort, but she was cut off by an exasperated sigh.

"Girls," Miss Bustier groaned. "Please sit down..."

Alya nodded in agreement and took Marinette by the hand, dragging her towards their desk. As they took their seats, Miss Bustier's frown relaxed, her cheerful demeanour returning as she faced the brown-haired boy.

"My name is Alexander." the boy introduced himself. "Alexander Rollo. I just arrived in Paris last week and I'll be staying here for the next few months."

He rolled his neck and picked up his canvas bag at his feet, starting towards the chairs until Miss Bustier called him back.

"Um, Alexander! Don't you think that introduction was a little too brisk?"

Alexander stopped walking, his brow furrowed and jaw set.

"Why don't you take this opportunity to answer some questions from the class?"

Alexander opened his mouth to protest but over half of the class had already raised their hands.

"Excuse me!" Rose asked in a soft, mouse-like voice. "You said you moved here? Where are you from?"

"Not Paris." Alexander answered.

"Yo!" Nino called out. "What's your favourite kind of music? You into DJ raves?"

Once again, Alexander rolled his eyes. "No musicians you'd know and no, I'm not into 'raves'."

"What about sports?" Kim asked, his eyes wide with fascination. "Any exercises you like doing-"

"These questions are exercising my patience." Alexander groaned. "Does that count?"

And finally, Alya stood up, her fingers moving across her phone at a dizzying speed.

"New guy in Paris, huh? Got any juicy info on-"

"Perhaps I was being too subtle..."

Alexander stood up straighter and tucked his hands behind his back, watching the class as if he were a drill sergeant.

"I am not here to make friends, much less try to get along with anyone. While I am at this school, I will do what is expected of me but I will do it my way and with as minimal social interaction as possible."

One could almost feel the temperature drop as Alexander spoke, his piercing eyes narrowing.

"I do not even want to be here. I am here because I have to be. And I will not have this demeaning period of my life made worse by any clique crap or suck-ups trying to play nice."

He glanced at Miss Bustier, the woman shuddering as their eyes met.

"Understood, teacher?"

The coldness of his words steeped the classroom into a stillness, leaving even Miss Bustier at a loss for words.

"...Very well then." the teacher resigned, pushing back a loose strand of her hair. "Well for now, how about you sit up the back next to Nathaniel?"

The tomato-haired Nathaniel looked up from his sketchbook, an uneasy look on his face as he met Alexander's icy eyes.

"...Alright." Alexander sighed. Ignoring Nathaniel's anxious expression, Alexander slung his knapsack over his shoulder and marched up the aisle between the desks. As he strode past, Marinette felt Alexander's steely gaze upon her, an iciness that compelled her to avert her eyes elsewhere. Her bluebell eyes darted across every chair, dewy window pane and oblivious person in the room, but they eventually found their way back to Alexander again, drawn in by the bracelet on his right wrist.

It wasn't a particularly flamboyant piece of jewellery, a simple silver band with a thin white cord wound around the middle, but there was something eerily familiar about it-

A sharp pain shot through Marinette's skull, causing her to jolt in her chair and wince and clamp her hands to her head. Her reaction went mostly unnoticed by the class, except for Alya, who glanced at her friend worriedly.

Are you okay? The girl's eyes seemed to ask.

Marinette simply giggled awkwardly, feigning embarrassment as the last of the pain subsided. But as it ebbed away, a numbing sensation began to gnaw at her ears, just beneath her Miraculous earrings.

An icy hand squeezed Marinette's heart. Something wasn't right.

Normally, Marinette could feel some kind of warmth or tingle of energy from the earrings, even in their dormant state. But as her fingers caressed their metallic, domed surfaces, Marinette couldn't feel anything from them. No warmth, no buzz nor even a sliver of Tikki's power - just empty metal shapes pinned to her ears.

The cold feeling in her heart intensifying, Marinette took a deep breath and looked towards the back of the class, her breath hitching in her throat when her eyes fell upon Alexander.

He was staring at her.

Marinette felt her lungs and heart constrict as she locked eyes with the boy, caught on the receiving end of perhaps the most frightening sensation she had felt in her life.

Alexander's eyes were even darker than before, burning with a stalwart, black fire that seemed ready to set Marinette ablaze, if the constricting coldness didn't choke the life from her first.

The way he looked at her, the way that cold darkness seemed to sink into her soul, like the teeth of a vicious predator.

They locked eyes for a few short, but unbearable seconds before Alexander suddenly looked up, watching as Miss Bustier wrapped up the remainder of homeroom.

Marinette finally looked away as well, but the effect of Alexander's gaze lingered. She almost couldn't believe it; the sheer hatred and malice in his eyes. Was he the reason for the coldness she felt in her ears? Why the Miraculous felt so empty?

Oh, get a grip, Marinette!

he chided herself for thinking like that, for entertaining such a silly thought. How could a stare affect a Miraculous or a person like that? Alexander might have seemed like a cold person, but surely that's not all it would take?

And yet, the feeling in her heart persisted, the bluenette hugging her arms around herself.

Those eyes. They were almost like...an animal.

And after what seemed like an eternity in a frigid purgatory, the bell finally rang.

- END OF CHAPTER ONE -

(My first time posting a fanfic to Tumblr. Please leave feedback if you read to the end?) 😊

43 notes · View notes

vinylhazza · 5 years

Note

can u do like a fluff story of ethan finding this cute french girl and spending most of his time in france with her

JERSEY BOY (E.D)

Trésor Inattendu

jersey boy masterlist

he’s walking past the ferris wheel, grayson following close on his tale.

fuck.

there she is, hair flowing in wavy tendrils down her back. she stands pretty, legs long and soft, little black dress falling right down to the middle of her thighs. she has this soft luminous glow, the paris sunlight making her skin shine. he’s never seen someone so beautiful. so breathtaking. he actually stops in his tracks to stare at her, hands in his pockets, mouth parted, eyes locked on her long eyelashes and rosy lips.

she stands near her friend that looks a little too excited to jump on the spinning wheel, but her…not so much. he can just tell by the nervous look on her face that she doesn’t want anything to do with the ride. he doesn’t blame her.

“you good bro?” grayson knocks him out of his trance, nudging him in the arm. people walk around them in every which direction, but his eyes never stray from that beautiful face.

“uh yeah, just saw someone that’s all,” he mumbles, walking forward but looking at her out of the corner of his eye.

they had decided today was the day they would ride the ferris wheel and make grayson get over his stupid ass fear because they are in paris and they have to experience the ride at least once. it had taken some serious convincing and lots of room service before he finally agreed - but naturally ethan got his way.

they head over to the line, about four people away from her. but he just can’t stop staring. she’s almost addicting to look at. he could get used to the adrenaline pumping through his system at this very moment. if he thought he had a chance in heaven or hell he would go for it but dear jesus she was crafted by the hands of the king himself and he wouldn’t dare shoot his shot with someone as ravenous as this angel before him.

“okay either you move your ass up in line and talk to her instead of being a little bitch, or i’m gonna,” grayson chuckles, giving him a pointed look with his eyebrow raised.

when he turns back to look at her, she’s near green in the face with nerves, looking similar to grayson at this very moment. making fun of ethan calmed him down some - but not nearly enough.

“why don’t you focus on not barfing and leave me alone?” ethan shoots back at him with a sneer.

“okayyy guess we are sticking to being a little bitch,” little bastard.

“can you fuck off for five seconds and maybe give me some brotherly encouragement?”

“I would start with bonjour,” and grayson looks serious, but a laugh is bubbling just below the surface.

“go to hell bitchass,” he smirks, taking a moment to decide, and then he’s shyly walking to the front of the line, earning a couple glares from the four people waiting in front of him. he mumbles a quick sorry with a little smile.

he stands beside her timidly, rocking on his heels before he decides on a good conversation starter.

“um...hey how are you?” good right? not too weird? too formal? oh shit this is pathetic.

she stops her nervous fidgeting, both her and her friend turning to look at him with a confused smile. no one has ever really approached them out of the blue.

“je vais bien et toi?” God she even sounds like a goddess, voice smooth as butter.

that means good right? jesus fuck please mean good. wait does that mean she speaks English or just understands it enough to respond? he is so out of his element here. he turns to look over his shoulder at grayson who is hiding a laugh behind his hand, but he nods at him to keep going.

with a sigh he carries on, “so you excited for the ride?”

“un peu nerveux,” she admits with a shy smile, cheeks blushing a rosy pink. it looks adorable on her and he gets the sudden urge to plant a kiss right on her heated cheeks.

he’s lost on that one and she can tell, giggling along with her friend. she does in fact know how to speak English, just loved seeing him squirm a little.

“I can speak English you know,” she cuts him some slack, seeing his body relax right before her eyes and his nervous pout breaking into a joyous smile.

“oh good...so you..come here often?” Jesus Christ ethan can you be any more of a loser?

at that she throws her head back with louder laugh, shaking her head.

“no this is a first, you?” her accent might be the best sound he’s ever heard. he’s so hooked on that silky sound. she has only ever been to paris when she has free time, living in a small town right outside of the city, caught up in her own life to wander through the busy streets. but when she doesn’t end up in the alleyways of the beautiful city, she’s entranced once more.

“this is a first for me too, listen um if you want we could ride together?” he shoots his shot with a hopeful smirk, really trying to lay on the charm.

she thinks for a moment, cheeks darkening before she turns to her friend with a hopeful smile - maybe she would get the hint and let her ride with this devilishly attractive American boy?

she takes the hint with a playful eyeroll, ethan catches the teasing look, waving grayson over. he walks over with a questioning look, seeming quite nervous when he catches a glimpse of the girls friend, completely frozen when she lays her green eyes on him, never seeing someone as handsome as the younger twin. there must be something in the water in the states.

the smile that comes onto his face is nothing but fond, muttering a shy “hello.” she waves back with a matching smile. ethan continues talking.

“do you think you could join..?”

“Adélaïde,” she introduces herself. a beautiful name for a beautiful girl.

“so that I can ride with?”

“Chloé” dear God he might die.

“uh yeah sure,” he holds out a hand, taking a step forward and grabbing onto Adélaïde, pulling her up to the next awaiting cart. they sit down and pull the bar in front to lock themselves in - grayson much more nervous now that he has a beautiful girl sitting next to him. when the cart turns and they raise highly into the air, they hear graysons cursing and Adélaïdes flowing laughter.

ethan and chloé are next, walking side by side and sitting down on the cold metal seat. the seats are enclosed in a cage of some sort, making it feel much more safe and also making him feel much closer to her. although it seems like a smart idea to even out the weight and sit on the opposite side - he scooches his large body to plop right beside the beautiful girl, catching a whiff of her vanilla perfume.

he’s never been hooked this fast.

it’s been three days since the ferris wheel, and he’s seen chloé near every minute, date after date, café after café. she’s addicting to talk to - her accent something he wants to hear forever. of course grayson isn’t lonely, having Adélaïde to keep him company enough. now those two...dear God it’s almost gag worthy when they are together. always looking like they’d get married tomorrow if they could. they both are so caught up in the city of love with two beautiful women they almost forget the Louis Vuitton event and are nearly late, rushing around while the girls laugh at them both, teasing them for being typical boys. at least some things are the same in each continent.

she doesn’t mind that she is spending most of her time on double dates with grayson and Adélaïde. she doesn’t mind that she’s head over heels, showing ethan around the city every night, observing him with curious eyes while the moon shines on him just right. she doesn’t mind how much he actually freaks out when he buys something and they speak nothing but french and the cute little nervous face he does comes out. she always steps in to save the day. fuck she doesn’t mind it one bit. she doesn’t mind how much laughter and joy has entered her life once ethan decided to take a chance on her at the ferris wheel.

they talk about everything from the future to the past, exchanging where they grew up, how many siblings they have, favorite memories, favorite places to travel, favorite food, favorite movie, anything you can think of, they spilled their guts. so comfortable and wrapped up in the warmth of each other’s company. it’s quite endearing how he has a little accent himself pronouncing a lot of words with a hard “d” which makes her heart flutter every damn time. jersey really must have some magical power.

...there’s one night where ethan decides to make his move and take a risk, kissing her right when she least expects it. they are standing on his balcony just mere minutes after the walks into the hotel room, and he’s pulling her small face to his with rushed movements, pressing her close to him. it knocks the breath from her lungs, shocked at how deep he’s kissing her...like he means it with his whole person. and he does. he knows it’s crazy to feel this way after only a week and a half. he knows it’s out of this world what his heart feels when he’s with her. he knows it’s going to tear him apart when he has to leave her...but he continues to kiss her hard.

of course she’s kissing him back with the same urgency, suddenly very sad that he does in fact, live in LA. this boy, this wonderful jersey boy, has taken her completely by surprise, stealing her heart in a matter of days. how can she ever let him go? how can she ever forget him?...and he feels just the same. that’s why he kisses her harder, backing them into the bedroom and onto the plush white comforter, kissing her harder.

grayson is doing just the same at a bench near the eiffel tower, looking at adélaïde like she holds the stars at her fingertips. these twins are so fucked.

when they break apart for air, she cups his cheek, tears welling in her eyes, and admits something that’s far too deep, far too soon. but it’s now or never. he’s leaving anyhow, so why not feel this way in this moment, while he’s still here, still kissing her, still with a pounding heart, looking at her softly with his hazel eyes like he is now? why not be that spontaneous girl that she always dreamt of being? why not be young and reckless? why not kiss the american boy like she truly feels she should?

“tu es l'homme de mes rêves,” she whispers, looking at every strong feature of his face. she knows he can’t understand, but she still lets it fall from her lips with one shaky breath, rubbing a thumb over his bottom lip. she’s never felt this way about anyone. ever.

even if he doesn’t understand, he smiles this fucking smile, one he’s never had before, and kisses her once more.

“you’re fucking beautiful,” kiss, “out of this world,” kiss, “breathtaking,” kiss, “perfect,”...lingering kiss left on her lips. it feels like fire, like fireflies, like butterflies, like lightning. exactly how it should feel.

she’s never meant anything more than this sentence in this very moment. she knows he’ll leave, she knows he’ll get on that plain and go back to his busy life in the city that never sleeps, she knows her lips will grow cold in his absense, she knows her heart will ache for him long after he leaves...but a part of her hopes he’ll come back.

a part of her hopes he’ll understand her sentence one day...that he’ll translate it. that he’ll remember it. and she hopes when he does, that he’ll hop on a plain to come right back here. right back to her with eager lips and those same entrancing eyes. she hopes he feels the same about her. she hopes he’ll join in her recklessness. she hopes he’ll kiss her just like this one day.

she hopes her sweet jersey boy will come back for her.

#asks #e!concepts #jersey boy ethan #ethan!concepts #im gonna cry tbh #that really...damn

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seb-owns-these-tatas · 5 years

Text

What’s wrong? (Tj Hammond) (Pt.2)

PART 1

Characters: Bi!TJ Hammond x Asian!Female!Reader

Summary: You're an overseas worker and is in a relationship with TJ, but people can't seem to accept the differences between you both even by financially and background wise. (PART 2!) (Read part 1 before this? Heehee!)

Warning: VERY Detailed making out but no tickling the pickle. Heehee! Cuss words. ANGST, SAD AND A VERY FURIOUS TJ HAMMOND.

Words: 4700+ (IT'S LONG AF AGAIN. 😂)

A/N: I love Tj Hammond so much? You can certainly see how I love him by reading this? Lmao. GO BE CRAZY WITH YOUR FEEDBACKS, TATER TOTS! Typos and grammatical errors may be a lot because English has only been my second language. 😅 LOTS OF GIFS IN THIS ONE! (Btw, Political Animal's plot has kinda been blurry to me right now because I've watched it last year. So, there maybe some changes if you'll notice if I have some errors about the story. Heehee. 😅 Or maybe not? I have no idea.)

Disclaimer: GIF'S and pictures used are not mine. Only the edits are and the oneshot of course. 😉 Credits to the owners of the GIFS.

Dedicated: @fandomgalcentral

The whole boring but essentially interesting party was finally done. After all that argument you had with a journalist, and Tj being the knight and shining armor to scoot the woman off have ruined your bladder. With a lot of Martinis you took made you a little tipsy, making you all giggly and wanting to pee all the while.

In all honesty, you were kind of smashed. But, not smashed enough to fall on the floor with a pile of barf. No. You should keep your head straight before embarrassing yourself from the Hammond family.

"Teejaaaay," You clung your arm around his waist, hugging your boy friend as he was playing you a song on the piano in which you requested for him to do. He was too engrossed on playing, the relaxing melody making you smile. Your eyes turning into slits when you did and that adorable smile didn't go unnoticed by Tj as he was quick to take a peek as his fingers continued to play. "Teejaaaay,"

The guests weren't around anymore, they all went home and it was only you and him. Probably Nana in the dining room, drowning in more glasses of Margaritas since you could hear glasses clinging from there. You intently watched his fingers move in such a professional manner. He got it in him. Tj got the talent even though he hadn't got to play for months now. It was still in his blood.

"You're one sexy mofo," You suddenly uttered lowly, completely out of your wits, followed by a giggle that made him do a double take. Your eyes squinting on his face, closely staring at your gorgeous boy.

He ceased his fingers from playing. A snort wanting to erupt from your sudden confession. "Aren't you..." He paused, his shoulders shaking from trying not to laugh at you because he knew how emotional you can get when you're drunk. "Is my little noodle buzzed right now?" Tj peered down into your eyes, ever so lovingly. Never forgetting to give you that wild feeling inside your stomach, making the butterflies fly.

"No," Your nose was scrunched from his question. You? Drunk? Never. Was he hallucinating? When does Y/N get drunk? "You're hilarious, Honey." His eyebrow rose from your sudden sweet endearment acompanied with a dash of sweet talking.

Definitely buzzed. He thought inside his mind, clearly noticing the sudden urge of being confident with yourself since you weren't like that all the time. He knew you were conservative, quiet and only sweet to him not to others.

Tj held the end of the piano cover, gently dropping the cover before glancing at you who seemed to be completely confused. "What??" You voiced out your confusion. "That's it? But, I wanted moreee!" Your voice faded, turning softer and more quiet. "Because you seemed to be so happy playing the piano again," you whispered to yourself. "I loooove your smiles,"

To your surprise, Tj caught on to what you said because it wasn't quite quiet as you thought it would. "I've been happy because you've never left me when I needed someone to be with me the most," he stared into your eyes, a lot more tender than he used to. A small smile pulling the ends of his lips that made you coo like you were a crazy mother supporting her son.

"Aww," You actually muttered out loud, pouting up at him and he couldn't help but touch the end of your nose with his fingertip, making himself chuckle from how you scrunched up your nose once again. "Look at chu', Teejaaay. Confessing the love you have for a worthless overseas worker who happened to work in a bakery shop in the morning, and a waitress in a bar when she gets her nightshift--"

Tj held your lips with his finger, shutting you up before you could start your emotional rant that could make his feelings take a turn, the constant heavy feeling for how you were thinking about yourself. He didn't want to hear your extreme critizations about who you are. It pains to hear you say all those words when in fact, you never saw how perfect you are in his eyes.

"I know you're drunk, but don't start and upset me, Y/N." He whispered very lowly, a frown was now visible on his features which made you reciprocate his expression.

You sighed, keeping your eye contact despite of your 'slight' intoxication. Just staring right through him, appreciating the once broken boy in front of you, still in recovery. That soft look in your eyes made him glance at your crusty ass lips that made him break his frown.

Keep in mind to give Y/N those lip balms he uses whenever he goes out. He smiled, slowly caressing your shoulder, down to your arm which made you pout up at him. Resisting the way he looks at you were one of your weaknesses because you never did anyway.

"I swear, if you don't make out with me in front of this piano, I'm--"

His eyes glimmered then turned into small crescents as he chuckled, sounding so heartfelt. "Here I thought you were one conservative lady," He raised a brow, looking and sounding so sassy. Just like your sassy Tj that you love so much.

"Surprise! I'm actually not one right now," You chatted him up nonchalantly, clicking your head to the side with a naughty smirk. "If only you could draw me like one of your french girls while I lay naked on this piano but I'm no French and you're certainly no painter--"

Tj cackled out loud, alarming your intoxicated self as you jumped on the piano seat. "Only my Y/N could drop the weirdest hints to make me french kiss her on this piano,"

Your heart was frantically jumping out of your chest. Was it probably the effect of alcohol? Or maybe it was honestly Tj's damn effect on your whipped self? "I actually said IN FRONT of this piano, but I have no complaints about making out with me on top of this oh-so-sleek piano--" You emphasized, gesturing on the piano in front of you. Tj couldn't help but shake his head from how funny and adoring you were acting tonight.

"Jesus Christ," He mumbled as you heard him chuckle. A small insect that flew on your nose distracted your current state of mind. Blasè from how you naturally slapped your own nose with your own hand, making you groan because it hurt.

Don't think it didn't go unnoticed by your boyfriend because it did, and he laughed even more.

"You're such a talkative noodle when you're drunk," To your surprise, you didn't see him stand up from his seat. "Tj--" And he basically captured you in his arms, instantly placing you on top of their piano that made all the heat travel towards your face. What if his mother sees the both of you in that 'thirsty' position? What will she think of you? Not that your mind could muster those things up right now because all its focus is on Tj and his sexy ass self. Nobody else.

"Eeeek! Tj!" You shrieked, shyly covering your lips with your hands, a smile never fading.

"Shut up," He uttered non-chalantly his next words stated as if it was a matter of fact. "That crusty ass lips needs a little dusting anyway,"

Your boyfriend and his sass. Thus, it was your time to raise a brow. "I am offended," He grinned, leaning in close, his cerulean blue eyes turning darker with the mischievous thought that he had in mind. "Preferably with my tongue," Tj added so smoothly before catching your lips with his.

You were currently in a whirlwind, with how Tj was kissing you? He was definitely a pro at it. Creating a world inside your mind that nobody could ever jump in. Just you and Tj. Your own little world.

Tj bit your lip, igniting a purr inside of you that made him grip your hips tight, turning on an imaginary switch that could make him go on and on, dangerously never wanting to stop. He chuckled a very low one once he got to lick your lips, teasing you which made you shuffle your legs and change your current sitting position. Boldly untangling your legs and propelling to have Tj between your thighs, making him oblige with no complaints because he was already used to it. Used to how you like him between your thighs every so often.

The way you tightly tug on his coat could define you as a cat wanting his or her owner for food. Definitely deprived and hungry for what Tj could give.

For you? He'll give you everything you wanted. Even the sun or the moon if he was being unrealistic.

"T-J?" You whispered, talking through his kisses and getting distracted by the sounds it creates from the way he was practically eating your face with closed eyes. Your hands instinctively took his face, keeping himself angled from where you could kiss him affectionately as you can, adding a little bit of tongue as you do even though you weren't quite used to it. Tj didn't mind though because he was quick to lap up your tongue back just like how you did.

Your spine shivered when you felt his fingers cascade on the side of your neck, clasping his fingers on your nape and keeping you there where he wanted. "You're," Peck. "the only," Smooch. "person," Bite. "who," A quiet giggle from the both of you "keeps me," Lick. "sane," Another deep kiss that drugged your kind soul.

A special drug that Tj could only effect you with it.

"The piano," Dougie sounded so done with everything, probably exactly exhausted from their engagement party and seeing his brother making out with his girlfriend certainly added more fatigue to the previous one. "Really, Tj?"

"God, I don't play the piano because you do those stuffs but Nana uses that for fucks sake,"

If it wasn't for Tj who happened to stopped the kisses, you guys wouldn't probably stop because you were too intoxicated and worked up to even know his brother was there. "A cockblocker," Tj backed his head a little, giving you space to breath. You felt him swipe the sides of your lips with his thumbs, erasing the smudge of your nude lipstick, paying no mind that his brother saw him making out with you. "As per usual," Your lover sounded unamused before finally giving his brother the attention he deserved.

"You guys..." Dougie gestured to the both of you before cringing, "were planning to...?" Tj nodded his head, his powdery blue eyes glimmering against the lights with euphoria. Definitely it was because of you.

"Yeah," He cocked his head to the side, playfully squinting his eyes at his brother and still sounding unamused. "Apparently, you're a cockblocker," His lips turn to a grin in which his brother has reciprocated as well. "Continuously giving me blue balls, Doug. You're the best," Tj added with a strong sense of sarcasm.

"Nana's gonna whoop your ass," Dougie chuckled, tugging on the lapels of his coat to flatten it up. "Anyway, mom needs to talk to you,"

You continued to stare at the beautiful man standing in between you with a dreamy glint in your eyes, never cutting off your attention to look at his brother. Heat travelled to your cheeks with your gal bladder twisting in a knot though that didn't stop you from staring at your boyfriend like a high school kid.

"I need to talk to her anyways," Tj informed his brother with a tiny raise of his brow, his attention solely on his brother who walked a foot closer to where you were. "Is it about the dome? did something happen?"

"Nah," Tj shook his head and he could feel you tugging on his shoulder. Slightly shaking to get his attention. "Just something important that I need to talk to her about,"

Dougie nodded, not wanting to dig deeper because apparently Thomas didn't want to tell him the details. He briefly looked at you, and he couldn't help but smile. Entirely amused by how you were asking Tj for help to take you to the bathrooms because you wanted to pee so bad.

"Y/N's drunk." Dougie responded as he watched Tj help you jump down the piano. "Well, that's a first,"

"You didn't need to state to obvious, Doug." Tj muttered with a chuckle. Feeling your arms surround him in a tight hug while humming at the same time. "I wanna pee, I wanna pee," You repeated, sniffing your boyfriend's sweet, masculine, vanilla perfume that you love so much.

"Oh, God. I didn't know she's like this when she's drunk." He tried stopping his giggle when you tried your best to tiptoe and sniff his delectable neck. Humming from how scenty his perfume was. He emitted a snort, jumping as he giggled like a kid as he took his palm to cover your lips. "You're tickling me, sweetheart!"

"Let me peeeeee, Hammondddddd..Or I'm biting you!" You slurred and sounded inaudible. Licking his palm at the same time in which he didn't find it gross and kept covering your lips. "Rawr!"

"God," Dougie facepalmed, keeping himself pretty composed but he couldn't help but still chuckle from your intoxicated state.

"Jesus Christ! Okay! Okay! We're going to take you to the bathrooms and you're gonna have your wondrous pee time," Tj talked you through, his amused eyes staring down at you with a tender smile and glimmer. "Got that, baby?"

You were quick to give him a shaky salute, a giggle never forgetting to travel way past your lips with a wiggle of your brows that made his brother glance at the both of you before spinning on his heels to walk away.

"Sir, yes--!" You hiccupped, giggling in the process with your eyes turning crescents. "--Baby--Sir?"

✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*

"Thanks, mom. I really needed that discouragement,"

"Tj, you're being a little too head over heels with this Asian woman--"

"And now you're giving out negative complaints again even when I had a relationship with a man," Tj had his hands on his hips, seeming to appear stupified from all he was hearing from Elaine Hammond. The secretary of the state. A.K.A his mother.

His eyes were bloodshot red, emotions currently in a mess and thoughts were in a haywire. "Do you even consider my happiness, mom?" He answered back, standing a foot away from his mother.

"Tj, honey," Elaine sounded defeated, a loud sigh escaping her lips. "You know I do,"

"Then why do you oppose me of marrying her?!" Her son's animosity kept her mouth shut. What was the problem with his decision? Why was she saying no to his decision even though he was already an adult? Old enough to think through his decisions in life?

Tj couldn't help but chuckle in anger before hastily shifting to rage that made him spit accidental profanities towards his mother. "She's not a fucking congressman who decided to give up on me and those kind of shit!"

"You watch that language young man!" Elaine's eyes wanted to pop out of her eyesockets. They were not having this talk again.."It's just--" His mother stuttered, finding the right words so she wouldn't hurt her precious son. "What I actually wanted to point out is that it's too soon, son." She paused, taking another sigh when she saw him shake his head in disdain.

There had been a second of silence, waiting for her son to talk but Tj kept his mouth shut as he waits for her to finish her sweet scolding. "You're dating her for like," She thought for a second, counting the months that Y/N and Tj were together inside her head. "--a year? this was the first time we've got to talk again in person and this is what you surprise me with?" Elaine had a hint of distress in her voice. "A quick sudden marriage that you wanted to tie her up?"

Tj cut their eye contact. The floor currently more appealing to stare at rather than his unsupportive mother who found this very important decision in his life, very wrong for her. An utter mistake.

"Teejay, honey," She sweet talked, trying to make him feel better. "I...I just don't want the past to repeat itself, you know how it was when you dated Sean,"

Tj had his tongue poking on the insides of his cheeks. One of his defense mechanisms or ways to show that he was on the verge of crying. He puffed out air out of his mouth, entirely distressed from his mother's opposition.

He cleared his throat, emphasizing his words with some simple movements of his hands. Eyes completely irked by how things wouldn't go as planned. "But, she's different mom. She isn't like him. I've been clean for the past year!"

"That's what you said when you dated him back then," She deadpanned, reciprocating his gestures as she placed her hands on her hips.

"Mom," Tj sounded desperate. His eyes completely glossy under the incandescent lights. "I'm downright in love with her," He added, biting his lips as hard as how his mother's way of thinking was unwavered.

Tj choked on his own words, cinching his eyebrows as he added. "--And I've never been this lovestruck with a woman for all my life," her son paused, taking a breather. "I love her too much that it'll hurt if she lets me go,"

Elaine shook her head in disappointment. "And your solution for that fear you feel is to marry the heck out of Y/N?" She spat. "Tj, do you even have a single trust for her?"

Tj couldn't help but groan internally, roughly pulling on the ends of his roots as he stared at his mother, entirely stupefied from how she was taking everything in. "I do, Mom! I do! I'm just scared that it'll happen again," Thomas honestly spoke, voice turning softer from opening a wound that was already healing. Even close to being healed. "Especially with her,"

Elaine was staring at her son with pity. Tj completely looked like a puppy who was in need of an owner, a pup who was deprived from love and care. His mother couldn't help the tears from starting to form because how can she let her once happy son end up that way? How could she?

Was she really a bad mother?

"She's special," Tj added desperately, eyes bloodshot red. "She saved my life," He choked, sniffing to himself as he washed his face with a hand. Pulling the strings of his fragile heart in misery. "Saved me from all the suicide attempts that I wanted to happen," pause. "Saved me from caging inside my fears, insecurities and darkness that was bound to trap me till I couldn't find my way out,"

Tj’s Cerulean eyes were blazing with great dread and cracks that formed his soul. Confessing how he could be weak without this woman in front of his mom was giving him anxiety and hearing himself speak about Y/N was making his image look more delicate than ever. Yet, he gave zero fucks about it because when did his image became important anyways?

"Mom, I know she's the one for me," he croaked, swallowing the tight feeling inside his chest. A drop of warm tear fell on the side of his eyes, but he was quick to wipe it away a little roughly, blaming his soft heart because he was already crying. Again. "I don't give a damn about her ethnicity nor her race. I don't even care if she's rich or not because those things aren't important to me, "

Elaine Hammond got her tongue stuck in her throat as she saw her son in the verge of bawling his eyes out in front of her. There was more to his tears other than the fact that she was disapproving his decision about marriage. "All I care about is how she truly loves me back just the way I love her," Tj continued, voice cracking from his own words.

"Because that's what went wrong with the relationship that I had with Sean. Now, that I got everything in hand," he sighed, controlling the anger, sadness and disappointment all together. "Why would I even let her go?"

Was she really disapproving Tj's decision because she thought it was too soon for the both of them? Or was it because she sees him as her healing son who had his heart up his sleeve? Scared that he would actually break again and he wouldn't get to find the light anymore?

"Tj," Elaine started, shoulders and head straight as she was about to explain herself. "No, mom." her son cut her off, looking completely rigid. "You just don't want her to be a part of this family," Tj harshly spat.

"What's even wrong with her?" he was entirely skeptical at the idea of Y/N not being liked by his very own mother. It was much more dissatisfying when he heard the former president, specifically his father's who came barging in their conversation.

"Everything," Bud intervened and deadpanned, igniting the fire with more gas if that was even possible.

Tj could feel his nerves in a wreck. He was mad, frustrated for the hundred time because of his own family, especially towards his father. "We're not like you, dad! If you're worried because one of us may commit some fucking adultery like what you just did because I couldn't keep it in my pants--!"

"Thomas!" Elaine scolded and didn't let him finish his own sentence. She knew what he was going to say and there was no doubt that her son knew what his father did. It was not like it was a secret because it has been Bud's serious scandal back when he was still the president.

"So, you're teaming up with him now?!" said Tj, thoroughly upset by how their talk went.

"Thomas James Hammond! You are stepping in your boundaries!"

Tj shook his head in disdain, snickering from everything that was happening as of the moment. He faked a smile, a silhouette of another man coming from the kitchen. "Tj--" Dougie started, trying to understand both sides as he was hearing them out in the kitchen. The conversation was turning more heated and he knew if he didn't stop them then it'll get more nasty for the family.

"Even you too, Dougie?" his younger brother uttered, features getting hard and his cerulean eyes piercing through their skins.

"Fuck, this family is perfect!" His feigned laugh echoed through the room.

You were in the comfort room, currently counting the small pimples on your face, scrunching your nose when you've counted more than ten. Definitely not a perfect woman for Thomas James Hammond and your drunk self is pondering why he was still staying with you when he could've had proportioned models or even sons or daughters of known politicians.

Nevertheless, he chose to stay with you. A woman who got nothing but a kind heart to offer.

You were lucky to have him all to yourself.

Hush exchanges and deep discussions started from the living room. You can hear Tj's sexy, sultry rough voice coming from that certain room. As you were walking through the hallway, you've heard him sternly say things about how his family didn't want you to be part of his, like his mother didn't wholeheartedly accept you.

With Bud's words, it was a guarantee that what he said was finally confirmed. He really didn't like you for his son.

Yes, you were lucky. But, not for his family.

"Tj--" Dougie started to explain, but Tj cut him off with a harsh spat.

"No, no, no. No one really gives a shit,"

"Don't even bother coming to The Dome for its one year anniversary, go fucking throw all those invitations away for all I care!" Tj mumbled as he scrambled to his feet, he was completely drowning in his thoughts for you. He needed to find you because the room was beginning to choke him alive. "Even though, you all know how important you are to me,"

You were at the end of the room, hazy, dreary eyes seeing Tj striding across the room to find you. You fiddled with the lapels of his black coat resting on your shoulder. Basically, you looked like a drunk, kicked abandoned puppy who seemed to not be liked by his family.

A hug was all you wanted right now, and by the looks of your furious, teary eyed, healing Hammond, he desperately needs one too.

"Let's go, Y/N." Tj's warm, comforting hand grabbed yours. Roughly tugging you along in your heels. You were struggling in your shoes and by how fast and long his legs were. "T-Tj..Slow down, please?" you stuttered, alcohol running in your veins and it wasn't helping that the world was twirling in a vortex.

He abruptly stopped in front of their door, your forehead hitting his back with a soft thud. Automatically uttering a tender apology towards the latter. Tj spun in his heels, his long, soft, pretty fingers wrapping around your wrist a little too tightly. Probably because of his anger towards everything, yet you weren't complaining because you were too drunk to even retort. You were even numb from the alcohol and from the piercing words that went straight to the heart.

If only it was all but a dream..

"You guys are the fucking best," you heard Tj sarcastically spat towards his family who were shooting daggers at the both of you. They couldn't understand yet. No, not until they wanted to understand where Tj was coming from then they wouldn't get to.

They wouldn't get to because they've never understood him since he was in the white house.

Thomas James Hammond only needed love, understanding and affection. He just wanted to be loved. He has ever been a soft boy.

Y/N Y/L/N came along and gave him what he wanted, yet she wasn't downright accepted.

Just like TJ Hammond, and that was probably why they were good for each other.

Then the door slammed shut, vibrating their stunned souls. Nana revealed herself from the kitchen, a disappointed look on her pretty, aging face. She knew she liked Y/N's pure heart. More so for her grandson because she knew how he was whipped and ready to climb mountains for this woman.

Elaine's mother sipped on her martini, her voice cracking from age as she finally addressed the elephant in the room. "Elaine," she grabbed her daughter's attention. "You won't be getting to save Tj for the second time now because you've just showed how invalid he was. Y/N will." Elaine frowned tightly, trying hard not to roll her eyes as she was trying to process everything at hand.

Margaret huffed as she glanced at Elaine's ex-husband. "As for you, Bud.." She eventually snickered, twirling the glass in her feeble hands with a stressed out tone.

"You're a dick,”

GOSH. I LOVE TJ HAMMOND TOO MUCH. GO LIKE AND REBLOG THIS IF Y’ALL LOVE TJ HAMMOND! Sorry if it’s too long? Hehehe!

XOXO, TATA

50 notes · View notes

nat-roman0ff · 5 years

Text

v. the last 45 seconds of your life

a series of blurbs // a certain time and place

(read the full series in my masterlist!)

v. the last 45 seconds of your life

the one where everything comes to a screeching halt.

wc: 3,273

warnings: unironic love of oasis, some bad words, & that feeling when your heart breaks

---

“Oh my god please don’t tell me he’s singing Champagne Supernova, again?” She groans as those familiar first notes blare through the speakers.

Shawn shrugs and turns his attention back to Brian who is taking his spot on the dingy little stage in the dingy little karaoke bar Shawn had brought the lot of them to.

“This is really what you wanted to do before you go back on tour?” She asks, folding her arms across her chest, “Karaoke?”

He snakes his arm behind her shoulders and pulls her closer, “yes, karaoke. But I also wanted to spend some time with my two best friends before leaving again.”

She steps on his foot, marring the white of his Adidas, “but Brian is going with you, dickweed. I’m the only one who gets to stay behind.” She crunches her heel into his foot a little more.

Shawn winces and puts his head on her shoulder, “only by your own choice,” he singsongs, “I’ve given you more than enough chances to come with us.”

“I have a job,” she starts.

“That you hate,” he finishes.

“I have responsibilities.”

“Masturbation and remembering to water your plants aren’t responsibilities.”

“I have an apartment.”

“...that sucks.”

“Hey!” She jabs his ribs with her elbow, this only causes Shawn to squeeze her tighter and more into him. He feels this weird sense of instant calm when their bodies are pressed together. It can be in any stage (although he was partial to when they were horizontal), no matter what, when, or under whatever circumstances, they just fit together.

“I have a life here,” she begins, her voice more somber, softer. She’s trying to put him at ease, “I can’t just pick up and leave that to be able to hang out with you all the time.”

Shawn lets go. He has to constantly remind himself that he’s the one that’s in love with her. She’s right, she does have her own life at home in Toronto. He wishes so terribly that he can whisk her away for all his own but he also realizes how incredibly selfish that is. Someone like her needs to be shared with the world, the world needs someone like her. She doesn’t get to be his world.

“However that doesn’t mean you can’t, like, fly me out to all these really cool places,” she eases the sudden tension and turns to him.

Shawn’s face is drawn and she knows that look. It’s the one that makes her believe he feels the same way she does, the one that gives her the tiniest glimmer of hope at the end of this tunnel, that all this wading around in bullshit isn’t just for sport.

“Yeah,” is all he can manage, “I’m gonna get a drink I’ll be right back.”

Except he doesn’t go to the bar to order a drink. Shawn diverts past Old Man Mellino in the corner bar stool and heads straight for the bathroom. By the time he reaches the stall he’s already crying. He’s thankful he’s alone, because Shawn has always been a loud and ugly cryer. It just sort of all bubbles up in his chest and he ends up choking on air. His chest and heart feel like they’re caving in, and he can feel every single hairline fracture in his heart just before it shatters once and for all.

How could he expect her to give it all up for him when he doesn’t even have the balls to tell her how he feels? How could he expect her to put her life on hold just to be with him. It’s simple - he can’t.

It takes Shawn a good ten minutes before his hands stop shaking. He wipes away the smear of tears on his face with the backs of his hands. He feels like a child, sitting in a bathroom stall and crying. This was like third grade all over again. But he couldn’t help it anymore. It was almost becoming intolerable to be around her without her knowing the truth, but in the same breath he couldn’t bare to not be around her. He’d usually been confident with girls and his feelings, if they didn’t feel the same way or just wanted an easy fuck he’d get over it with a pint of ice cream and move on.

She was different (but aren’t they always?).

Shawn’s feelings for her were catastrophic. It scared him every day of his goddamn life. He never thought in his mere twenty years of existence that he could ever be so hopelessly hopeless for someone. His emotions manifested physically for her. He felt pain when she was away and a lightness that nothing else could ever measure up to when she was around.

The days were getting harder, the tides seem to crash harder and time felt like it was running out. He was exhausted, and not from the months of travelling or touring. It was her, it was this big gaping hole in his chest that was her. It was this secret that he’d been carrying with him for almost two years now that ate him up at an excruciatingly quickening pace.

Her rejection was his greatest fear; the response of “I love you too, but I just don’t love you in that way”. He knows it would gnaw at him for a lifetime, because he’d spent a lifetime trying to find her. Shawn didn’t believe that your missing pieces would be filled by another human being, he believed that certain people were brought into your life to help you mend those broken pieces. She did that for him, in all the ways he couldn’t even place but knew existed. He couldn’t explain it; he felt whole with her, and not because she completed him but because she helped fix what had been broken.

It’s been some time now and Shawn supposes he should get off his ass and go back out there. He leaves the stall and looks at his sorry face in the dirty bathroom mirror. He looks worse for wear, with his eyes all puffy and red, cheeks blotchy and the collar of his shirt damp from cleaning up his face. The bathroom door opens and Old Man Mellino stumbles to the sink beside Shawn. He smells like well liquor and adult diapers.

“Those are woman tears,” he slurs, his breath toxic with booze.

Shawn furrows his brows, “excuse me?”

The old man slings an arm around Shawn’s shoulders, “the tears you cry over a woman. Recognize them anywhere. What’s this dame done to yah?”

Shawn recockens if this guy gets any closer he’ll barf from the stench, “nothing, that’s the problem,” he says, wanting to get out of this conversation as quickly as possible.

“Does she know how you feel?” Mellino mutters.

Silence.

He chuckles, “I’ll take that as a no then. Look at you! Young, bright, handsome, the whole world ahead of yah! What’d yah got to lose?”

Shawn shrugs, “her.”

“Now you look at me, boy,” he grabs Shawn’s shoulders and turns his body to face him, “I’ve lived a thousand lifetimes in my years and if there’s one thing I’ll always do over and over again, it’s telling the woman that you love just that. Nothing more, and nothing less. You don’t have to be showy or make some grand romantic gesture. Just be honest, be you.”

Shawn sighs, but not too deeply as the reek of the old man is really starting to burn his nostrils, “I suppose you’re right.”

“Well I am. Now go get her!” He says, slapping Shawn’s ass and then stepping into one of the stalls.

Shawn leaves with a new found confidence. He guesses he has about forty-five more seconds before it wears off so he plows through the crowd and back to her. She spots him immediately and waves her hand over towards him.

“HeyI’veGottaTalkToYou,” he says quickly in one breath.

She laughs, “yeah? What’s the rush? And where are our drinks?”

“No time, ran to the bathroom -”

“Was it the Taco Bell we had for lunch? I know sometimes it upsets your tummy.”

Twenty more seconds.

“No I just really need to tell you something,” Shawn blurts.

His heart is racing, and he’s almost sure he’s going to pass out. The ringing in his ears is so loud it almost drowns out Brian’s sloppy rendition of Wonderwall.

Ten more seconds.

“Damn, okay. Sounds serious. Did you have an epiphany while on the shitter?”

Five more seconds.

“No, I just. I really have to tell you something important.”

Shawn’s vision blurs and all he can see is her.

“Well, get on with it then if it’s so important.”

Three.

Two.

He takes a deep breath.

One.

“I’m in love you.”

---

She’s pretty sure if she has to listen to Brian sing another Oasis song she’s going to scream. Liam and Noel Gallagher do not deserve such disrespect.

“Get off the stage, loser!” Someone yells, and she has to stifle her laughter by biting her bottom lip.

Shawn’s acting weird tonight, she thinks. Well, weirder than usual. He’s distant but clingy; won’t talk to her but won’t bloody let go of her either. He’s never usually this way before he leaves for tour. It’s the last leg at barely two months. It’s not the longest they’ve ever been apart, not by a long shot. She watches him walk away and disappear into the sea of people crowding the bar area. She turns back to Brian on the stage, who is full on air guitaring along to Champagne Supernova, and even throwing on his best Northern accent to sing along with.

She has this gnawing feeling in her stomach. This sort of nauseous anxiety that builds and builds the longer that time passes. She can feel it in her heart too, in the way that it rapidly beats and causes her to miss a breath or two. It’s not a panic attack, at least not the ones she’s used to. Her hands get clammy and she scans the room over and over for Shawn but doesn’t see him.

Brian finally finishes his song with a round of boos and hops off the stage and towards her.

“What’s got you so sweaty?” He asks, dabbing at the clammy skin at her hairline and wiping her sweat on his jeans.

She shakes out her arms and hands, “I don’t know - I just have this weird feeling?”

Brian raises an eyebrow, “o...kay. Do you mind elaborating? I’m not Shawn, I can’t read your mind.”

She glares, “forget it.”

He grabs her by the shoulders and shakes her a little, “tell meeeee!”

“It’s stupid.”

“You’re stupid.”

She eyes him.

“Sorry, force of habit,” Brian replies, “But seriously, what’s got you so shaken up?” He puts a reassuring hand on her arm.

She thinks about all the ways she can list out what’s got her going;

It started this morning when she woke up in Shawn’s arms and accidentally on purpose snuck a glance at his phone. There was a text from some LA model with the message ‘excited to see you this week!’. She’d wiggled out and stalked off to the bathroom, making sure to slam the door on her way out.

Then Shawn suggested they go out for breakfast instead of staying in like usual on Sunday mornings. They had a tradition of making waffles in her Death Star (despite never actually seeing any of the Star Wars movies) waffle maker and eating almost an entire pound of bacon between the two of them. It was always one of her favorite days of the week. When they’d gotten to the Diner, she counted exactly fifty words spoken to her the entire time, despite the fact he played footsies with her throughout their meal. He just stared blankly at his phone. She wondered if he was talking to some LA model.

By the time afternoon hit she had been sufficiently annoyed with Shawn. She kept tripping over his feet when they walked around the city and bumping into him, once even spilling her coffee on her new shoes. They weren’t in sync like they usually were. Something was catastrophically off.

At dinner with friends he was just as weird and distant, and she spent most of the time chatting and laughing with Brian while Shawn still stayed glued to goddamn phone. She was past the point where it annoyed her and was well on her way to just being plain old pissed off. It wasn’t that she was jealous about another girl (she was) or cared if they were screwing around (they weren’t), she just hated feeling like there was something he wasn’t telling her. Which is fucking rich consindering the secret she’s been holding from him.

It didn’t take her long to realize after they met that Shawn was going to be that person for her. She tried to tell herself that she would feel this for someone else one day, that maybe if she packed it down for long enough it would go away. And sometimes it did, she didn’t spend every waking moment of her life weeping about being in love with Shawn. She had mostly good days, days where she thought about him fondly and missed his warmth. Most of her time was spent avoiding diving in any deeper, sitting at just the edge and sometimes dangling her feet to test the waters. They were always too cold to dive in.

“It’s nothing, really Bri. Just getting emotional about him leaving again, that’s all,” she sighs, “about both of you leaving, actually. What’s a girl to do with herself?”

“Do you really want me to answer that question?” Brian raises an eyebrow.

She shakes her head, “absolutely not.”

He swings an arm around her, “whatever you’re feeling, just let it go.”

She supposes she takes too much time to think about it and it makes her heart race. She knows full and well that she’d never be able to live the same lifestyle Shawn will. She’s the here and now and it’s convenient. She’ll never be the one who goes to premieres and parties and events with him. He’ll save that for some LA model. She’s accepted that a long time ago - that she’ll never fit in with his lifestyle. She’ll only ever be the here and now.

Letting go is such a hard concept. It sounds so fucking easy but is so fucking not. It’s not like dropping a coin into a fountain, it’ll come in waves and some days will be better and easier than others. Letting go is something you have to do slowly, but once you make the decision to do it you can’t go back, you just can’t.

She’s so tired of the emotional push and pull; the fullness of feeling so fucking amazing when she’s with him, almost immediately followed by the emptiness of longing and wanting something she’ll never have. Her emotions are a constant change of the tides rolling in and out and her sea is tired. It’s self induced, too. She has no one to blame but herself for feeling this way and she’s pretty sure she’s finally accepted that at this point. She doesn’t hold any ill-tidings for Shawn for not feeling the same way she does. He’s never once used her, or put his needs in front of her own. She supposes that’s why this whole letting go thing is so fucking hard. That plus literally everything else about Shawn’s personality that screams at her to stay, to keep maybe-ing, makes it so fucking hard to let go.

“Thanks Brian,” she hugs him tight, “I’ll work on it.”

He gives her a squeeze, “wow, for once I actually said the right thing.”

She slaps his chest, “just something I think I needed to hear someone say out loud.”

“I’m going to pretend I know what that means and go pick out another song.”

“Please don’t make it an Oasis one!” She yells after him.

“No promises!”

She laughs to herself and sighs, picking at her thumbnail. She knows going into this head strong that it’s going to be a hard one. She knows that it’s going to take days, weeks and maybe even months of pain before she reaches the other side of that tunnel of letting go. Him being away will help, it means he won’t randomly show up on her doorstep late at night with a box of cupcakes and a sappy look on his face, it means she won’t get text messages all day long at work of him complaining about how bored he was. She was thankful for the upcoming distance in her quest of ridding herself of the feelings.

She didn’t want to find it in someone else. No, that wouldn’t be fair. Because what she felt was real, that much she knew, and she didn’t want to dishonor that by trying to project those feelings onto another person. She looks around the bar and spots all the couples and for the first time in a long time her heart doesn’t sink, instead, it’s relieved. She doesn’t feel the tugging weight of longing to have that with Shawn, at least in this one fleeting moment.

The music starts and Brian is singing Wonderwall. She groans, and continues to wait for Shawn to come back. She spots him and waves a hand for him to come over. He looks...stressed. And her heart sinks when she sees the red rimming his eyes and just knows he’s been crying. That’s the thing about her, she just always knows. She also knows he doesn’t like when she calls him out on such things, so she lets it be.

“HeyI’veGottaTalkToYou,” Shawn states in a single breath.

She chuckles, “yeah?” She can see his breath coming out in small pants, “What’s the rush? And where are our drinks?”

He shakes his head like he’s trying to clear something out of it, “no time, ran to the bathroom -”

“Was it the Taco Bell we had for lunch? I know sometimes it upsets your tummy,” she interrupts, placing a hand on his abdomen, she can feel the muscles clench beneath her palm.

He clenches his fists and she starts to worry, “no I just really need to tell you something.”

Shawn is pale and for someone who is already only two shades darker than an eggshell, that’s saying something. His pupils are blown out wide and he’s visibly shaking, but trying to hide it by clenching and unclenching his fists. She’s never seen him this way before and she’s terrified of what he’s about to say.

“Damn, okay. Sounds serious,” she says as calmly as she can, trying to dampen her own rising nerves, “did you have an epiphany while on the shitter?”

“No, I just. I really have to tell you something important.”

She can feel her heart in her throat. It’s amazing, she thinks, for as out of tune as they’ve been all day, now is the moment that they realign. She places her hand over his heart and feels it beat along with hers - perfect synchrony once again. But she drops her palm and remembers let go, let go, let go.

“Well, get on with it then if it’s so important.”

Something flashes in his eyes and his pupils contract just to blow out again and she swears she’s watching his entire existence flash before his eyes as he takes a final breath and finally fucking works up the strength to say;

“I’m in love you.”

---

and she’s done! i hope everyone enjoyed this lil ride on my first shawn series. i doooooo have a sequel planned if it’s wanted, let me know! :)

#it's a lil early but here she issssssss #shawn mendes #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes angst #actap

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misstinfoilhat · 5 years

Text

Whumptober 2019 #14: Waterlogged- Bungou Stray Dogs

I can’t remember which prompt I changed for this, but this is one of the alternative ones. ***** As he let himself fall from the tall bridge over the ocean, it felt like he was just hanging there for several seconds. The only hint of him falling was how the wind built up around him and almost took his breath away.

Always first, came the sensation of weightlessness.

The chill air of autumn ruffled his unruly locks and made them fluttered freely, tickling his cheeks and shadowing his vision. This feeling was so familiar to him now, that he didn't even feel the need to flail his arms and legs in fear as he fell- floated- on his back towards the water's edge.

No “life passing before your eyes,” no spontaneous conversion to religion and no panic. Just a rather boring and accepting realization of what was about to happen.

It was not until his back hit the water’s surface, that Dazai's expression morphed into anything even remotely implicative of giving a fuck.

The ice-cold water welcomed him, swallowing him down greedily as he slowly sank into the blackness of the dark abyss. The way life on the surface sounded muffled underwater filled him with fuzzy, warm anticipation. Anticipation for death. He offered himself fully, letting the arms of Poseidon reach out- surrendering completely, letting himself be dragged down as air bubbles rushed past him towards the small, flickering lights above. The average person can hold their breath between 30 to 60 seconds. The breaking-point comes after 87 seconds- even if it's sort of a neurological optimism. One's instinct to not breathe underwater is so strong, that it will overcome the agony of running out of air- no matter how desperate you might be as you feel like you're drowning- you won't break until you don't have any other choice.

Not until your body is telling you that the lack of oxygen is killing you and breathing might not, so... might as well inhale. And that's what Dazai did. He knew the final breath would be the ticket he needed; the ticket to the mercy of a life beyond.

Except--

As his lungs filled with water, he felt something grip firmly around his wrist. Just before unconsciousness called him in, he felt himself being rushed upwards. Someone was gripping his arm tightly, tearing him relentlessly away from his release. The last thing he noticed before his world turned to obscurity, was the gleaming glow of the surface, coming closer, and closer, and closer.

–

Dazai heaved in a violent breath just as water spurted out from his lips, hurling himself to the side, feeling gravel and grass beneath his grasping hand, panting desperately.

Gutteral coughs ravaged through every inch of his body and his lungs stung fiercely from the lack of oxygen. There was also a dull ache to his ribs which he reasoned as the outcome from heart compressions--

Which meant that he had almost made it.

Behind him, he sensed someone; someone catching their breath. His “savior”- goddamn, good samaritans, who he ignored in favor of laying still, looking dully at the dirt beneath him and wondering if there was any way to roll back into the water without being noticed.

“What the hell-” the someone behind him begun sharply- and Dazai frowned at the realization of who it was.

Not only was he going to get reprimanded for trying to kill himself again, he was also going to get shit for ruining this man's 'oh so holy' schedule.

“I saw a crab,” Dazai interrupted idly. “I felt like a snack.” He tried to quelch a few coughs, but water still spilled from his mouth.

“Don't... even try that bullshit with me!” Kunikida growled, clearly forcing his own restraints, giving Dazai a light punch in the back.

Dazai only shrugged, curling tightly in on himself with a blank expression.

He didn't want to deal with this. Not now, after another failure. No wonder the Agency didn't take him seriously when he said he wanted to die. Not that it mattered anyway. The whole point of committing suicide was to be in charge of his own fate. Death was inevitable, and up to this point in his life, far too many people had had his life in their hands. Death had been an everyday threat- an endless technique of domination used by whoever had their claws closest to his young, fragile form, late into his teens.

This was his way of showing that he was finally his own master.

Something shifted behind him, tearing him away from his musings as Kunikida's tan khakis and brown shoes came into sight in front of his vision, which was still littered with black dots that almost resembled static on an old television screen.

Dazai's ears were ringing, and he felt strangely nauseous, but it didn't seem to distract him from the feeling of absolute defeat.

The soaked loafers squeaked as the pony-taled man crouched down beside him, grabbing a tight hold around his wrist. Dazai flinched a little at the touch before he realized that his partner was checking his pulse. So, he tried to relax, kind of hoping that the idealistic man wouldn't find any- that he actually was dead and just too slow to realize it- too stupid to accept it.

He groaned softly as he felt the slow beating against the firm grasp, and closed his eyes while waiting for the minute to pass.

Kunikida frowned before he let go. “We should get you back to the agency and let Yosano have a look at you,” he said gravely, getting ready to hose Dazai back up. “No,” Dazai croaked, giving no sign of letting the bespectacled man help him up.

“What?” Kunikida asked, holding his hand out and looking genuinely confused.

Dazai shook his head with careful movements. He had a headache. But that was not a good enough reason to go see a doctor, even if it was only in their own infirmary at the Agency. “I'm not seeing Yosano,” Dazai murmured expressionlessly.

“Of course you are, you almost drowned!”

Kunikida was growling now, appalled, trying his best to keep his voice from rising.

“She... Nobody needs to know,” Dazai eventually said flatly, unable to tear his gaze away from the ground he rested on.

Automatically, Kunikida's face warped into a furious grimace and he took a deep breath, getting ready to heave out all or any knowledge he had about near-drowning experiences and how utterly stupid his bandage-wasting partner was to even suggest that... that...

But then, the tone of Dazai's voice registered in his mind, as well as the doleful expression on his face; the dark, half-lidded eyes absolutely refusing to meet his own.

Why did he never seem to remember that Dazai was actually suicidal? That it wasn't some grand scheme to annoy them or get attention- to be a nuisance and cause disorder.

Dazai hurt. Dazai hurt really bad and he had once again failed to recognize it.

Discouraged, Kunikida sighed, sitting down slowly by Dazai's side, folding his hands, resting them on his knees while he looked at the setting sun on the horizon.

For a while, they didn't talk, not a single word. Dazai honestly preferred it that way and Kunikida had no idea what to say.

“...I'm sorry,” he finally managed, downcasting his head in shame.

This time, it was Dazai's turn to be confused. He furrowed his eyebrows skeptically before he hoarsely asked, “What?”

“I said, I am sorry,” Kunikida responded slowly. “I am sorry that I don’t understand how you feel. That, I keep forgetting how hard all of this... actually is for you.”

Dazai shifted in his spot, a bit too fatigued to actually get up. The blonde man noticed his efforts and leaned back a little to help him sit up.

Dazai's vision immediately swam in a sudden dizzy fit, making the nausea worse and he felt like he had to barf for a moment. He let his head fall down, his balance with it. Without meaning too, he sank to the side, abruptly resting wearily on Kunikida's shoulder.

He felt his senior jostle as he bumped into him, but he couldn't help it. His energy was drained, he had a hard time breathing and he couldn't keep his eyes open. The evening and its darkness were closing in on them and the wind sent chills down his spine as he realized that it was getting pretty cold.

He wasn't sure when his teeth had started to clatter.

Half-expecting for Kunikida to shrug him off, which would result in him collapsing back to where he had lied before, Dazai braced himself.

But- nothing happened.

Kunikida sat still, sturdy as a rock, even though Dazai could feel his skin getting cold from the soaked fabric of his clothes, just like him.

It made him feel bad.

“Okay,” Dazai finally said roughly, his voice breaking halfway through the word.

He felt the shoulder he was resting his head on changing a little, assuming Kunikida had tilted his head to the side to look at him.

“Hm?” Kunikida hummed patiently, uncharacteristicly for the strict man, which only made Dazai feel even worse.

“We should get back to the Agency,” was all Dazai managed to say, still resting his head on his partner's shoulder.

“Sure, that’s... we...” Kunikda was searching desperately for the right words. He seemed nervous and unsure, again making Dazai’s stomach churn angrily in regret and a guilty conscience. Kunikida sighed finally.

“...We don't need to tell Yosano what happened. I'll say I pushed you, or... something,” Kunikida shrugged, feeling Dazai shake lightly while croaking out hoarse chuckles at the fairly plausible explanation.

“Okay,” Dazai whispered with a faint smile, moments away from sleep.

Kunikda shifted, getting up while simultaneously dragging his partner up with him, guiding his hand across his shoulders and steadying him as they began their slow ascent up towards Kunikida's car from the small bay.

Dazai was hardly able to move his feet, sluggish footsteps bearly able to move across the coarse sand. Kunikda walked slowly, patiently, carrying more than steading the man.

Finally on top of the steep hill, Kunikida helped Dazai into the passenger seat and buckled his belt for him, before closing the door and returning to the driver’s seat.

He buckled his own belt before he turned the ignition.

“Kunikida...” Dazai breathed weakly, fumbling one soaked, bandaged hand for something, finally locating it on the gear stick.

Kunikida's cold hand was pressed firmly by a different, freezing one.

Narrow eyes looked at the scarred grip on his own hand before he looked up and met a sickly pale, shuddering expression. Dazai was clearly fighting to stay awake, but his hold on his hand didn't falter for a second.

“What, what is it? Are you okay?” Kunikida asked urgently, stopping the car.

Dazai's expression warmed considerably as the corners of his mouth rose into a tired smile and his eyes once again rested shut.

Weakly, he nodded his head, letting it fall tiredly onto his own shoulder, while still keeping his hand where it was.

“I just... I just wanted to say thank you,” Dazai said softly, lastly, letting his hand slide off the gear stick and back onto his lap, letting the current drift him far, far away into the far depths of unconsciousness.

#whumptober #whump fic #whumptober2019 #no.14 #waterlogged #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #osamu dazai #Dazai Osamu #doppo kunikida #kunikida doppo #fluff #fanfiction

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