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strawberrylemonz · 4 years

Text

Accepted Invitation

Part 1

Part 2 [CURRENT]

Part 3

DT: @bargledblocks my beloved <3 and @snapdragonfirefly my beloved <3

“Chat, stop being dickheads.”

Kristin shook her head as she narrowed her eyes at Phil, who smiled at her.

“He gets that from you.”

“What? Never! He must have learned it from someone else!”

As the two playfully bickered, accusing each other of starting Tommy’s cursing habit, they failed to notice the guilty look that covered the twin’s expression. Ghostbur, not being able to read the atmosphere or situation, whispered in a loud manner.

“Heeeeeey, didn’t we teach him how to curse.”

“You two did what?”

“Nothing! Let’s move on!”

Tommy hummed as he happily navigated through the unfamiliar Portal Hub. He had heard stories of what it was like from his father and brothers, so he was more than excited to finally navigate through it himself. Look at him go! TommyInnit, the most badass adventurer around! He would be so cool, just like his family!

“What is he doing on the main server? Why is he walking around the Portal Hub?”

“I don’t know, but does it matter?”

“Of course it does-!”

“Does not.”

Just as he was about to enter a different section of the Portal Hub, the sound of a small peep caught his attention. Turning around with a smile, he held out his hand as he caught a baby chick, gently petting it with his finger.

“Hello, little guy. New god?”

“Yes, little chick, I am!”

“Did Clara and Mother lead you my way?”

“They did! They couldn’t help but say good things about you, so I just had to come and see you for myself! I hope I’m not going to stay this small forever.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll get bigger the longer you stick around with me. Mother and Clara are already fully grown chickens, but there’s other deities who are still puffy chicks, like you.”

“Wonderful! Can I stay on your person?”

“Sure, why not? Here, just stay there.”

“Thank you, young chick.”

“Not a problem!”

“I’m sorry, gods?”

“Are you telling me that Tommy’s just as crazy as his family? I mean, come on, Chat? Voices? Obvious red flag-”

“That’s not very nice, Dream.”

Dream frowned and tried to cover his ears, doing his best to block out Ghostbur. Techno and Wilbur just sat in silence, watching the form of their brother as he happily interacted with his voices, with his chat. He seemed so much more in control than they ever were at his age. Overall, they were just shocked that he even had a chat, and they didn’t know. Watching the interaction, Ranboo voiced his observation.

“Hey, Tommy kinda has what Phil does.”

“What do you mean, Boo?”

“Phil has a bunch of crows that follow him around, Tommy has baby chicks. Kinda funny, if you ask me.”

Tommy smiled as he tucked the chick into his shirt pocket, happy to see the little fella content. Peering into his satchel, he smiled as he nodded to a small group of chicks huddled in there, peering up at him. Their peeps comforted him as he entered the new area, clutching the straps of both his backpack and satchel tightly in his grip. Mumbling as he studied the different portals, he couldn’t help but snort as familiar clucking caught his attention. Turning around, he waved as a clucking chicken ran to him, flapping into his arms.

“Hello, Mother.”

Quackity snorted, only to quickly move to cover his mouth. Kristin raised an eyebrow as she turned to face him, curiosity painting her face. Nervous laughter erupted from the man’s throat as he scratched the back of his neck, trying to explain.

“It’s just, seeing him call a chicken mother was kind of funny.”

Kristin laughed as she nodded in agreement, she and Clara sharing knowing looks.

“It is funny, yeah.”

The chicken clucked as she rested her head on his shoulder, snuggling in. Waiting as he held her close, he smiled as a red aura came off the chicken, forming a mass in front of him. Floating there, arms crossed, was Kristin. Humming as she looked around the area, she spoke up in a confident manner.

“Joining your Chat was one of the smartest things I’ve ever done. Now I just need to track down your brothers and join their Chats, talk some sense into them during my free time.”

“Good to see you too, Mum.”

Kristin chuckled as she shook her head. Pressing her lips together, she gave her youngest son a pointed look.

“Now, Tommy, why are you here? You should be at home, with the others. The Hub is a big and unpredictable place, no nine year old should be wandering around here unsupervised.”

“But I’m not unsupervised, you’re here!”

Placing her hands on her hips, she shook her head as she sharpened her look, making the child avoid her gaze.

“I mean by someone who is physically there to watch you.”

“I don’t need a babysitter, Mum, I’m a Big Man!”

“I don’t doubt you are, but you still shouldn’t be here on your own. Here, let’s get you back to your father and brothers-”

“No!”

“Yelling at his mother, how rude!”

Niki shook her head in distaste as Jack nodded in agreement.

“She must have the will of thousands to deal with someone like Tommy.”

Kristin frowned at the statements being made behind her. It hurt her that the people her son admired and looked to spoke ill of him behind his back. What hurt her the most, however, was the lack of defense from her husband or sons. Instead, the defense came from someone else.

“Hey, leave the kid alone! Look at him, he’s just a child!”

“Quackity is right, Tommy’s nine here. Besides, if Kristin see’s something wrong with his tone, I’m sure she’d put him back in line.”

A satisfied hum came from Kristin as she smiled at Quackity and Ranboo, glad to see that some people had some sense in themselves.

Kristin frowned as she raised an eyebrow, tilting her head towards her youngest son. Tommy peered down at the chicken in his arms, ashamed. Sighing, he nodded as he looked back at her.

“I’m sorry, Mother. I just- I can’t go back.”

“Why not?”

“I hate being alone.”

The group watched as tears welled up in the child’s eye. They all felt a pinch of pain and hurt in their chests, frowning at how Tommy was feeling. Watching as he wiped his tears away with the chicken, they couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable.

“What do you mean by alone? I’m sure that if you just ask your brothers if you can join in sparring-”

“They left.”

“...What? What do you mean they left? What about your father? What did he say about this?”

“He left too. They all left me alone in the cottage. Something about being invited to a new server? They sent letters back home for me to read, but they stopped coming in two months ago. Dad and Techno started a nation, I think. The Antarctic Empire, or something. Wilbur started his own, but I think he’s allied with them? It got confusing after a while.”

“L’manburg wasn’t Wilbur’s first country?”

“Forget that, the anarchists started a country?!”

“Letters stopped two months ago? When did they leave you behind?”

“Um, I’m not sure? They left November twenty-second.”

“Wha- Tommy, it’s July fourth! They’ve been gone for almost seven months!

“Wow, really? It’s been that long? Huh, would you look at that! I’m a master survivor!”

“Ow!”

“I still don’t forgive you for that! How could you leave our son behind like that?! For seven months?!”

“Kristin-”

“Don’t, we’ll talk about this later.”

“And you’ve been alone all along? What about our sweet neighbors? Aren’t you best friends with that boy your age?”

“Tubbo went with his dad on a trip a few months back.”

“Schlatt took him on a trip? Huh, weird. And what about Lani?”

“What’s so surprising about that? I can be a loving and cool father, right Tubbo? Lani?”

The two siblings avoided the ram’s gaze, mumbling excuses so they did not need to reply.

“Adopted dad took her on a different trip after she got upset that Schlatt left her behind.”

“Well, count on Jordan to cheer his daughter up.”

“The Captain is cool like that, Mum.”

“You bet he is! Man, I need to go on a trip with him again. He’d love to meet Michael!”

“Knowing dad, he’s gonna freak after seeing that his only son is married and has a child.”

“I think you’re wrong, Lani, dad will be fiiiiiiiiiiinnnnne.”

“Whatever.”

“Well, where are you going, Tommy? Joining them on this new server?”

“I was, but I decided not to.”

“And why not?”

“I was invited to a different server! See?”

Kristin watched as Tommy reopened his satchel, greeting the chicks who napped inside. Carefully pulling out an envelope, he smiled as he pulled out the card. Presenting it to his mother with pride, Tommy giggled with glee as she read the name of the server.

“Dream SMP?”

“Yup! Started back in April, I think? I got the invite a month back, and I’ve been preparing to leave ever since! Isn’t that cool? Someone thinks I’m cool enough to join a server!”

Kristin studied the face of her son, watching as he happily rambled about his plans for the new server. He didn’t fool her, he never could. She knew that despite his excitement, he was lonely and scared. He didn’t want to be alone.

“You’re not going to make me go back to the cottage, are you?”

“You know what? I’ll follow you wherever you choose to go.”

“Really?!”

“Absolutely, my ray of sunshine.”

“Oh, thank you!”

Pure love and happiness filled everyone as Tommy held the chicken close to himself, ignoring the strange looks people gave him as he mumbled his thanks.

“He really loves you, doesn’t he?”

“As do I for him. If I could live every day outside of my realm, I’d be by my family’s side every day.”

“Well, what are you waiting for? Now, let’s see this Dream SMP, okay?”

“M’kay!”

“You guys left Tommy all by himself when he was nine? Kinda wack, ngl.”

“Did you just verbally abbreviate “not going to lie” in real life?”

“That’s not the point, Sapnap.”

“I know, but still.”

Wilbur refused to speak or look at anyone. He didn’t know why the train brought him and the others here, but he knew that being sat with his family made him uncomfortable. Technoblade just sat beside his twin, messing with his hands as he silently thought things over. Peering at his parents and brother, he couldn’t help but wonder if he had been unfair towards his youngest brother. He didn’t regret doing what he did to L’manburg, the country deserved it. He didn’t regret a thing, no matter what Tommy said or did. He didn’t even know why the voices and his own consciousness felt uneasy by this all, nothing bad hadn’t even occurred yet! It was definitely uncomfortable to feel what Tommy was feeling during these events, but that was the only thing that truly explained his uneasiness.

He watched as his mother whispered to his father, her stare firm and strong. The ex-citizens of L’manburg all conversed with one another, sharing their observations so far. They all shared the same question, he knew this, but only one was brave enough to ask it. Watching as Drista made her way from Lani to Kristin, Techno watched with amusement.

“Excuse me? Mrs. Minecraft? Where is Tommy?”

“Oh, simple! None of us wanted him to revisit all these moments that may be uncomfortable for him, so he’s somewhere safe.”

Before anyone else could ask anything else, they were suddenly overwhelmed with excitement and joy. Turning around they watched as Tommy spawned into a new server, his mother’s chicken in his arms. Petting her head as he looked around, Tommy addressed his small following of chicks and chickens.

“Boys! Welcome to the Dream SMP!”

#The Reluctant Hero's Tale #The Reluctant Hero's Tale AU #Tommy is gremlin child pog

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sugoui · 4 years

Text

— the language he knew.

⁙ with you following in his steps, he knew there was only one way to stop you. ⁙

× soui’s note » im a sad bitch so here’s a sad fic. repost.

p a i r i n g ⇀ park jimin x reader..or more likely, fuckboy!jimin who sees the one he loves fall apart.

t y p e ⇀ angst and light smut..or, is this what you call voyeurism?

w o r d s ⇀ 7,659.

» [ friends to lovers!au ] °˖✧

“Doesn’t it bother you to be alone?”

Through the singing of the birds and the rustling of trees, his nose scrunches in distaste; chopsticks hanging loosely from his fingers as his attention is sparked, and eyes drill into yours within the proximity of the park. Did it bother him? Eyes averting from your curious state, he looks down into his cup filled with ramen, heart twinging in something akin to pain and yet..the sun still grins happily upon the two of you. “I dunno,” he mumbles in honesty, “I’ve never had anyone by my side to begin with.”

He notices you bite your lip at that, eyes glimmering as they try to find any kind of hope for Jimin within the many thoughts of your mind, anything that could change him into moving on to a better him. “But you can try,” you push on, taking a sip from your water bottle. He watches you, watches you turn slightly in your seat as you gasp in pleasure from quenching your thirst — then sighs to himself when you smile softly at the oncoming giggling children running around in glee. “Stop playing around with girls like they’re toys, you know? Find someone who you know will be able to make you feel alive.”

He sighs, resting his elbow on the flat surface of the picnic table as he lays his chin on the palm of his hand, “but you’re the only one who can take that place.”

And he smiles at the way you bark out in laughter, rosy blush staining your cheeks as tears accumulate at the corner of your eyes from Jimin’s absurd words, and his heart flutters.

But the thing is, he wasn’t joking — and there was no way you would ever acknowledge that.

He knew there was nothing wrong with wanting someone by your side, that there was nothing wrong with falling in love and chasing your heart but there was no way he could act on his feelings for you. You’re the girlfriend of one of his long time best friend’s, you are one of his best friend’s and have been since you were children, and upon bro code and the sake of keeping this friendship sane; he refuses to destroy the boundaries, no matter how many times he feels the crippling need to.

He was devastated, heart melting into the acid of his stomach when he had heard you belonged to Jungkook years ago, and he knew there was nothing he could do to tear you two apart, to steal you away and have you in his arms so he could mutter ‘mine’ into the crook of your neck. Because of his shyness, because of his self esteem — he never had the guts to confess to you; he had always believed and imagined many scenarios of you rejecting him or spitting in his face and just the thought of that had the air clogging in his throat. He was a mess, still is a mess, and the day Jungkook invited him out for pizza and suggested that you all move into an apartment together so the circle of three you all tried to uphold throughout the years wouldn’t disassemble into many pieces, Jimin could only laugh wearily as he looked to your brightened face at the thought of finally being united indefinitely — and he accepted, even though he knew it would ruin him in more ways than one.

It started after months of living on cloud nine that Jimin began to think his pessimism was all in his head, but after witnessing the premonition hiding within the shadows of the apartment, things began to softly crumble.

Every night through the thin paper walls, the boy tried his hardest to suffocate his eardrums with his pillows as he forbade himself to hear your muffled moans and tantalizing giggles, demanded his heart to just shut up for once from the decaying anxiety resting in the pit of his stomach that threatened to poison his mind with it’s horrendous fumes. The bed tapping against the wall from the other side made him fragile with every hit, his mind playing a broken record as he tried his hardest to fall into the arms of slumber he desperately sought for. And as time ticked in the back of his mind and repeated the scenario from every other oncoming night, he ripped the duvet off his crumbling body as he stormed out of the apartment — seeking something that would hide his inner turmoil away in the back of his pocket.

He wasn’t proud of it, but it was something that could be easily done; finding a girl, someone as desperate as him to rip off the clothes that suffocated him and just to feel loved. And even though it wasn’t real love, it was enough.

“Where were you?” He remembered that specific night clearly, the apartment lost of any light except for the street lights that flittered through the sheer curtains of the small area as you stood at the corner of the living room, arms crossed and bare feet tapping the floor like some rabid housewife.

He simply shrugged as he walked past you and tried to make his way into his bedroom quietly. He reeked of alcohol and sex, at least he assumed from the way you scrunched your nose in disgust. His hair was amiss, his lips were heavily bruised and he just felt weak, especially when you suddenly gripped his wrist harshly to stop him in his tracks — he couldn’t help but sneer. “Answer me, Jiminie.”

“Don’t call me that,” he grunted as he tried to shake off your hand in the process, “and don’t fucking touch me.”

You retracted your hand as if you had been heavily burnt by scalding water, glaring at the older boy in hurt, but instead, he focused on his previous destination before your voice froze him in his place. “Jimin,” you corrected, “you can’t do this anymore, you’ve been doing this for months. Is this really how you want to fall-?“

“What are you?” He cut in, head tilted to the side in annoyed curiosity. “My girlfriend? I don’t think so.”

He knew his words had slapped you in the face, yet, as he took his first step away from you and towards his bedroom once again, you snatched his wrist with no remorse, pulling him towards you so he could hear your thoughts and not the ones murmuring in the back of his mind — but he was having none of it.

The second your fingers sizzled against his skin, he roughly slammed you into the wall, ignoring the choked and pained gasp that fell from your lips. “(y/n), I’m only going to say this once so you better engrave these words into your pretty little head.”

You tried your hardest to free your bruising wrist from his deadly grasp, but instead, he leaned into you, lips hovering over your cheek as the toxic breath stung your eyes, and the gulp whispering in the center of your throat was heard by the one holding you captive.

“This is my life, and there is no way in hell that you would ever play me like some damn gamer watching over his avatar.” He seethed, lips drawing a portrait onto your skin with every word that spilled from his mouth, “let me live my life, as you should do yours.”

“But-“

His hand moved from your face and his fingers tapped against your lips, stopping you from making another peep; and he grinned. “You can’t expect me to follow after you and Jungkook like some lost dog–“ he scoffed, eyes glaring into your own, “and you can’t expect me to stay during the night to sleep as you two fuck every other night, that’s not how it works.”

He watched you gawk at him as if he wasn’t himself, as if he were possessed by something that caused him to change–and maybe he was, being the demons who caused him to fall in love with the never could be, and now, he had lost himself within the flames of wanting to float on clouds, to escape the reality he was living in..but he wasn’t going to tell you that.

His hand slowly lifted from taking your lips hostage and moved to cup your cheeks, his face softening as his thumb softly smoothed over the soft skin. Your eyes stared through his as they tried to find something, but with Jimin’s bucket of black paint drenching any lasting thoughts within his irises, you sighed, looking away as you placed your hand against his chest and pushed him away softly. “I’m sorry.” It was a weak whisper and your eyes were filled with regret, lips trembling from the small commotion.

But he didn’t want to hear it.

Days went on as he avoided you like the plague; he locked his bedroom door during the day and escaped into the raging strobe lights of night clubs and house parties during the night. Jungkook sent him continuous texts to get out of his bedroom, to spend time with the both of you and to stop his greedy antics of escaping into used hands, and the night he doesn’t leave the small quaint apartment — he dropped onto the lingering chest of the living room couch.

His eyes softly closed at the sound of footsteps tickling the floors of the home after a while of silence, and his heart began to beat a raging tune at finally having to face reality.

The steps soon stopped before him, and he breathed softly. “Jungkook-ah.” He plainly muttered into the leather of the sofa, “what is it?”

“I know about your feelings for (y/n).”

Instantly, the man gets up, eyes threatening to fall out of his sockets as he peered into the orbs hiding behind the black curtain of hair. “What?” He asked softly, scared of you appearing from your bedroom, and terrified of having his feelings written in his eyes as it glowed for everyone to see.

“I know how you are, Jiminie.” Jungkook crossed his arms, face finally being revealed as he ran his fingers through his soft dark locks. And the lone act caused Jimin to internally hyperventilate, because what? He knew he was a coward for fucking around every weekend with someone just to erase his feelings for a limited time, but he had also believed that because he did that, that nobody would find out — but in times like these, he can only wonder if Jungkook could read him like a book, only wonder if his whole existence was written on the back of Jungkook’s hand and that terrified him to death. “I can practically feel the longing oozing out of your body, and lemme tell you one thing.”

“No,” Jimin shook his head and frantically rose up from the couch. “I’m leaving.”

But he doesn’t get to escape, not this time, as Jungkook grabs the boy by the collar of his shirt and slams him down roughly into the fluffiness of the couch. The younger is on top of him like some tiger getting ready to devour his prey; the roles reversed from that day with you weeks ago and Jimin knew at this point, that his useless and drunk self from the past was witnessed by the beyond livid Jungkook, and he couldn’t feel any more ashamed.

There was no use fighting back, his will was lost long ago with his sanity, and with eyelids threatening to shut and look away from possessive eyes, his hands fall limp at his sides. “I know Jimin, I know you’ve been around, slept around. Used like some damn rag over and over again to the point that there are stains, but there is no way in hell I’ll let something as tainted as you blotch (y/n) with your dirtied hands.”

“Jungkook,” Jimin desperately called, small hands clutching the ones wrinkling his shirt. He knew he was a fuckboy messing around to get around, but Jungkook had it all wrong — there was no way in hell that he would ever touch you in those ways, use you as if your friendship meant absolutely nothing, and all in all, try to steal you away from him. “Those are not my intentions.” Jimin got out, but Jungkook’s eyes are written in pure thirst to murder if the opposite were to happen, and he couldn’t help but gulp at the look of pure disgust. “You know as well as I-I do that I’d never hurt her, I’d never do that to you-“

“Like hell you won’t,” the taller boy dug the lanky one further into the couch with a shove, stealing Jimin’s breath away as his chest began to ache from the abused contact, “keep your dick where it doesn’t belong, you ass. I mean it.”

And amidst the park where he sighs from the past, from something that happened months ago with horrid assumptions and lingering regrets, he gets up from the bench with his hands in his pockets — smile swiped from his visage like a hungry frog snatching some bothersome flies. “You’re leaving already?” You ask, the corner of your lips falling to show your displeasure, and he shrugs, because really, this whole meeting with you at the park was all over useless.

Ever since Jungkook confronted him, he hadn’t had the audacity to speak to you or even hang out as the circle of three like old times. There was really no way he could ever go back to how it used to be, and Jimin was sure that soon enough, his image would be ripped away from the couple who aches to be together forever without someone so useless and broken.

Without someone like him.

“There really isn’t much to say,” he admits, looking up to the sky to avoid any sort of expression you draw with the tip of your nose. He could tell that you’re scared, hesitating to tell him anything about the path he chose to walk down on, so you only giggle halfheartedly, leaning into the wooden bench as if all your worries had already fallen into evanescence.

“At least try, Jimin.” You whisper with a tiny tone, but he hears you, feels the worry interlacing with every sound that escapes your lips, “try to love someone with everything you have. Give yourself to them and only them.”

“I don’t know,” he admits, eyes glancing towards your distraught yet innocent figure, “this is the only language I know.”

“How could you do this to me?”

Jimin’s eyes softly open, yawn escaping him as he looks at his alarm clock and soon, the sound of something shattering stabs through the air.

And he flies up from his bed in an instant.

His head is beating like a drum, sending shockwaves of pain throughout his body as he instantly rubs his aching temples. Maybe the sound of danger is just something his anxiety was feeding him, or maybe he just drank too much the night before. Nonetheless, his eyes inhale the blinking 3 AM screen his phone gave him — and he forces himself to check the small apartment.

Darkness fills the small home like water, and with squinting eyes, everything seems normal. His bare feet hits against the hardwood floor with soft taps, fingers tremble as he passes the door laying open to your lifeless bedroom, and he then notices the hallway being way too eerie for comfort. At this time, you and Jungkook are usually sleeping; so seeing the both of you not tangled in sheets was a sign Jimin believed with all his heart that something was seriously wrong.

He walks into the living room where a clock ticks the silence away, and once his head peeks over to the front door — he instantly freezes.

The door is wide open, and Jungkook stares at you with panicked eyes as yours are planted into the ground. You refuse to look up, your lips are shaking as you sniffle and when Jungkook places his hand on your shoulder, you are quick to slap it away with a scoff. “Don’t touch me.“

“(y/n),” Jungkook whispers harshly, obviously trying not to wake the supposed sleeping Jimin whom was already witnessing the whole ordeal, “I was stupid, okay? What more do you want me to say?”

“Seriously?” You spit, taking a step back, “are you fucking kidding me?”

Jungkook sighs, shoulders slumping in defeat. “I’m sorry, I-..I was insecure. I didn’t know what I was thinking-“

“But there was a reason, wasn’t there?”

Jimin walks a little closer, his heart shushing all his organs as he tries to listen in on the conversation. His eyebrows knit together in concentration, and when the next words manage to crawl it’s way into his ears, the boy could only smile to himself in disbelief.

“I was scared, you know? Scared that one of these days I’d find you in Jimin’s bed, terrified that the both of you would go behind my back. Scratch that, actually, I was drunk as hell and believed you two did it.” Jungkook gulps, his Adam’s apple slipping down his neck before it flies back into place. “That’s why..that’s why I cheated on you.”

Silence.

It took Jimin everything in his power not to storm into the scene and punch Jungkook’s face in. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing after Jungkook had the audacity to pretty much tell him to fuck off many months ago, yet the younger could go along his merry way and do whatever he wanted to you. Jimin was beyond pissed, and as his back presses against the wall hidden from the two at the doorway, your voice finally pierces the atmosphere.

“Get out of my sight,” you whisper shakily, “just leave.”

Jungkook glances your way in pain, and Jimin could feel the inner turmoil happening within the other man in wanting to hug you and beg for you to not leave him, but he doesn’t. He throws his backpack over his shoulder, steps out of the apartment before he bows slightly before you.

“I’m sorry.” He apologizes, tone weak and fragile, “I’m so fucking sorry, but please, know that I truly do love you.”

Yet, you say nothing to his words, only nodding as you shut the door behind him and lock it down.

Jimin still stands where he is, eyes blown open as he wonders how he should approach you after seeing that. Would you cry? He was your boyfriend of a few years, and best friend of many, and he was now gone, and knowing you for so long — he knew there was no way you would take back someone whom betrayed your trust, and he honestly wouldn’t blame you if you avoided Jungkook for now on. Before he could take a step away from his hiding place, you are standing a few feet away from him, and he jumps in his place. “Shit, I-“

“Did you see anything?” You question, and his heart shatters from the way you seem so broken, so lost and tired from the world you were placed in. He says nothing, eyes reflecting your emotions like a mirror as he bites his lip in sorrow. “I see,” you comment, looking away in embarrassment, “good night, then.”

“Wait,” Jimin says before you could walk back into your bedroom, full on knowing that his next question is way beyond stupid and idiotic but he doesn’t care — he has to know. “Are you okay?”

You raise an eyebrow at the question, and he hopes you didn’t find his curiosity rude nor pathetic, but when you laugh softly as you shake your head; you throw him a thumbs up. “I’m perfect,” you assure him, continuing towards the comfort of your bedroom, “so don’t worry about me.”

He tried not to worry, but he did, and he was going crazy.

Hours, days, weeks went on as he rarely saw you around the shared apartment and he was hoping more than anything that you didn’t do anything insane inside your own bedroom. He knew that the walls haunted you, that the place you called home taunted you with the existence of your now ex boyfriend. He witnessed you wash your blankets and duvets and pretty much anything that could have touched Jeon Jungkook millions of times over and over just so you could erase his existence — and seeing you crumble before his eyes made him feel absolutely useless.

He couldn’t do anything, no matter how many times he wanted to hug you and help you through your heartbreak, he just couldn’t; and the sole reason was because both your languages of love equaled the existence of heaven and hell, the epitome of yin and yang and damn him if he ever changed your perspective on such an innocent feeling.

At least, that’s what he believed.

On one of his usual nights out, his blood ripples from the booming music vibrating within the large house. His head is bopping, hand reaching for the bottle of Mike’s as his friend laughs obnoxiously loud and snatches the soft liquor away from him. “Really, Jimin?” He smiles, “do you really think this pussy shit will have me opening my legs for you?”

Jimin chokes out a dry laugh, snatching the drink from the taller man before popping the lid open, “shut up, Yoongi.”

He takes a large swig of it, loving to feel the sweet yet toxic liquid scratch against his throat before he pulls the glass bottle away from his lips. Jimin clears his throat softly, fist against his mouth to hide any grimace he wore on his face as Yoongi throws his arm around his neck; pulling him into his chest as he cackles. “Jennie is here,” he mutters, grin evident on his features, “talk to her.”

“Uh, I don’t know,” he mumbles to himself, taking a smaller sip, “I need to be loaded before I go.”

And after the words fall from his lips, everything around him drowns into the background. He sighs to himself as Yoongi speaks beside him, obviously drunk off his mind from how much he kept yapping, and Jimin could only let himself embrace the alcohol he drank. It was always like this wherever he went, whether it was a house party or the club or maybe something simple at a restaurant during the middle of the night; Yoongi always nudged him towards a specific someone during their many mischievous spontaneities, and he would blindly follow whatever path he was assigned to for the night, well, if he agreed to it.

Which he always did, considering how wasted he had always became.

“How many would you like?”

Yoongi’s voice snaps him out of his stupor, making the boy smile as he raises his dripping glass of alcohol in the air. “Same as always.”

And before he knew it, crumpled cans lays on the island as his empty glass is already tipped over and forgotten, and his head lays on the tabletop as he tries to find any kind of comfort in the music playing around him. His mind is hazy, he feels lonely, and more than anything — he needs to feel that hole bubbling with black ink be filled with color. He somehow pushes himself away from the stool and the usual anxiety screaming at the back of his head is already drowning in the bubbling mixture of liquor. His movements are sporadic as he tries to find his usual source of drugs amidst the many people intoxicated beyond belief, and once he finds Kim Jennie giving him a look of longing from the nearly packed sofa, he grins.

It was her, it was always her who came stumbling into his arms at the end of the night. She was always there, whether it was smiling into his skin or digging her fingers deeply into his back — it was always her. But he never saw her during those intimate moments, he never kissed her nor breathed promises into her ear as he wished to do so with someone he loved so dearly, and he was okay with it, as was she. She had her motives and he had his own intentions, and no matter how far they differed, in the end, they both needed the same thing. And that was to escape.

But, as time suddenly morphs into slow motion and Jimin stops in his steps as he squints with heavy eyes towards the glowing figure popping through the front door, soon, his façade shatters as realization stabs his heart like a poisonous arrow.. a realization that things never go as planned.

His smile drops, his veins vibrate with horror as he completely forgets about the one with benefits and spins on the heels of his feet, charging up the steep set of stairs of the house like a frightened cat zooming away from it’s predator and ignoring Jennie’s angry screams of his surname.

The hallways are dimmed and few people loitered around as they sucked the other’s face off or just wanted to escape from the chaos rumbling below. He could barely breathe at this point, knocking a random door open as he stumbles inside and slams it shut — back colliding against said door as he slides to the floor with a panicked sigh.

There was no way in hell that you were in the party he always took place at, no way in hell that you barricaded the apartment just to walk right into satan’s sanctuary. You never liked parties, saying there were way too many people for your liking and that there was literally nothing to do than just sit around and waste your time — so Jimin just cannot believe he saw you pushing through dancing crowds all alone in such a dangerous place.

Should he go confront you and take you back to the apartment? Grab your hand and pull you through the chaotic home? His heart wanted to, so badly wanted to push you back into safety but his hazy mind struggled to find leverage within the want and need. Would you try to fight him once he finally showed that he did indeed care about how you were doing? Or would you accept whatever he thought was best for you? Jimin glares at the nicely made king bed, squints at the many teddy bears and the assumed purple blotched colored walls throughout the darkened room, and clenches his fists.

He felt like puking from his chaotic apprehension, wishing he could find any type of answers dangling from the ceiling that could help you into becoming a better you and definitely not an imitation of him. He shouldn’t have drank, he should have stayed home and kept you company because who knew how much pain you were in to stoop so low, even though he doesn’t know if you have fallen, he couldn’t help but worry.

And it was killing him inside.

The doorknob to the bedroom rattles, and all thoughts instantly scream as they hide in the darkest corners of his mind. “Shit,” he says under his breath, head snapping to the door that is about to open, “this room is busy—!“

“(y/n).” He hears a deep voice from the other side followed by your bubbly giggling and satan immediately shoves his fist down Jimin’s throat. He is frozen, staring at the door that softly creaks open and at a loss, he jumps into the closet and closes the louvered doors as best as he could; and holds his breath. “Stop fighting me–!”

“No,” you breathe, and he finally sees you and the mysterious man stumble into the room through the door, bites his lip so hard once the door slams shut and the light disappears. “You can’t m-make me, Taehyung.”

He could see the bright red hair, curses it with his life once it shines from the moon’s luminescence that sheered through the curtains, and inwardly groans. He knew who Kim Taehyung was, someone who grew up with you apart from he and Jungkook and ever since Jimin was a child, he built a sort of rivalry between him and the younger boy due to jealousy. Taehyung was an asshole, at least in his eyes, and he didn’t like the man one bit. But here he is, and with you.

He knew Taehyung cared about you, probably as much as him no matter how much the younger teased you — and a part of Jimin knew he shouldn’t be worried about Taehyung now of all times because honestly, he should be grateful the man dragged you out of the bubbling hell.

Taehyung pushes you into the bed, and you easily fall on top of it as you whine in distaste. “Made you.” He simply comments, plopping beside you and closing his eyes, and Jimin decides that maybe, it would be safe for him to sneak out of the bedroom and head on home without the two of you knowing he was at the party at all.

“I drank way too much,” you mumble into the blankets, and Taehyung lazily grunts a ‘I feel you’ as you turn to look at the man, “should I go home?”

Jimin’s fingers hover over the closet doors, stopping his escape as to not let himself get noticed if you were to leave, and he hears Taehyung sigh. “You shouldn’t have even came in the first place.”

“Shut the hell up,” you somehow find the courage to spit, and the other softly laughs, “I..I just wanted to—“

“Make Jungkook jealous, yeah.” A raspberry fills the room, and the bed softly squeaks, “can’t you just get over him? It’s been about two months (y/n), he’s probably forgotten you and found someone else.”

Silence ensues the small room, and Jimin internally curses at Taehyung’s words because even he himself could feel the punch to his gut. He closes his eyes, praying to the gods to stop your pain, but as always, he is ignored, and you’re already getting up from the bed. “You’re an asshole,” you softly cry, “fuck you.”

Taehyung is quick in sitting up and grabs your wrist despite his drunken stupor, “that’s not what I meant,” he quickly tries to cover, “and you know that.”

“But..” you begin, “but maybe you’re right. Jungkook cheated on me, Jimin can’t even look at me —“ said boy’s mouth falls open “—a-and I have no one left, Tae. They all find me disgusting, they all disappeared because I’m just a germ, and–“

“I never said you were disgusting,” Taehyung whispers, but with your rant, his voice is ignored.

“It just hurts, ok?” You sniffle, wiping your tears with your forearm as you swallow a choked sob. “I don’t know what to do anymore, I feel so useless, should I even–“

“Shut the hell up,” Taehyung interrupts, throwing your previous words back into your face, “don’t you even dare finish that fucking sentence.”

You’re rubbing furiously at your eyes, wanting the tears to stop that you had kept shoved inside a bucket within you and Jimin can’t help but rub at his own eyes to stop them from watering. Seeing you like this, a mess, was really opening his eyes to how much you had upheld alone, and he felt like complete and total shit for avoiding you all this time.

“Then,” you crack out, “then help me.”

Taehyung raises a brow at that, delusional self caught between confusion and just saying yes, “how?”

“Have sex with me.”

Jimin jumps up in shock, head hitting the closet door as he quickly muffles his yell of pain. He could see Taehyung look frantic, staring at the closet with bulging eyes and lips trembling while your eyes stayed glued onto the boy before you. “Hey,” Taehyung says, weary smile on his lips, “did you hear that-?”

“Don’t change the subject, Kim Taehyung.” You bite, and Taehyung runs a hand through his hair, eyes downcast as he tries his hardest to avoid any contact, “answer me.”

Jimin’s teeth stabs into the skin inside his mouth as his fingers tremble. What in the world were you saying? He didn’t want to see any of this go down, he didn’t want to watch you ruin yourself or make any mistakes in trying to forget your love with Jungkook. He is careful as he slightly opens the doors to the closet, wanting to see your expression or even Taehyung’s — but all he could see, was how horrified the latter’s features were.

“(y/n), you know I can’t do that.” He mutters, but your drunk self had smart ass written all over it.

“Huh?” You grunt, hand going towards your ear is if it would let you hear better, “what did you say?”

“This isn’t you,” he speaks up, “we’re both drunk, (y/n), and you’re hurt — I get that.” He states, and your shoulders visibly slump. “I get that you’re in pain, only wanting to forget about what happened but it’ll just be gone for a few minutes; a few minutes that you’ll never get back until the pain comes back once again. Do you really want that?”

Jimin applauds Taehyung in his head, thankful that at least the man had a brain during these difficult situations. Your sniff then gets Jimin’s attention, and Taehyung quickly sits up before you. “Y-you’re a liar.” You croak, “y-you said that you’d always do anything for me since we were children, and—“

“But not this,” Taehyung is desperate, hands cupping your cheeks to wipe the trickling tears away, “please, (y/n), anything but this.”

With Jimin’s better view, he sees you smile softly as you push Taehyung’s hands away as they hesitantly fall back to his sides, watches you wipe your own tears away with your hands as you then rub the damp skin on your skintight dress. “Thanks for everything, Taehyung.” You say, bowing slightly as you hold in a choked sob, “goodbye.”

And as you weakly turn to the locked door to take your leave, Taehyung grabs your shoulder and turns you to him. His front was absolutely destroyed, and enigma paints onto his skin as bright as the color of his hair. Jimin knew at this moment that the boy had broken at seeing his best friend ruined, and that the events that were about to occur would change the future — and probably not for the good.

Your breaths are soft as your eyes glances to the hands loosening the straps to your dress on your shoulders, you sniff when the simple cloth glides down your arms to reveal your breasts, and large hands grip your shoulders as the dress drops dead on the floor to reveal you in all your glory for both boys to see.

“No,” Taehyung murmurs, “I should be thanking you.”

Calloused skin touches your bosom, and you whine softly from the foreign grope. Jimin doesn’t know what to do but watch, watch Taehyung look at you with so much adoration Jimin believed he never had and just watch euphoria spear into your veins. It isn’t long until Taehyung dives in to kiss you, to let his hands wander around the soft expanse of your body as he pulls you in close, and all Jimin can do is watch.

He wanted more than anything to ruin the doors from it’s hinges and rip Taehyung away from you, he wanted to do so many things and stop the atrocity happening before him but he just couldn’t. He is glued into his place, eyes averting here to there and the demons inside him giggles into his ears.

The boy felt pathetic, useless as time ticked above his head and Taehyung is now ramming into you like there is no tomorrow, literally making you grip the sheets beneath you and scream into his bruised lips. Maybe it was hours, no, possibly years that roared on and the ending was no where in sight, and all Jimin could feel..was useless.

His heart was palpitating, he was in pain and he couldn’t do anything to stop it, to stop you and your decisions, to stop his disgusting ass from getting hard just by seeing you cry and writhe beneath Taehyung.

When you two finally stopped, the sun was waking up from it’s slumber, and Jimin shoves the closet doors open only to find you both naked on the bed. Taehyung is hugging you as if he were scared to lose you, and you hugged him back in your slumber and the lone image sparked reality within him that he couldn’t help but cry silently.

He finally closes his eyes, opens the door to the hallway and just all over breathes the air that could probably help him be sane. And as he walks down the stairs, he sees Jennie standing there with her back to the wall and her arms crossed, bitch face on full blast as she scoffs. “Pathetic,” she sneers, and Jimin only grins.

“Shut up,” he spits, “it’s none of your business.”

With hands shoved in the large pocket of his hoodie, Jimin walks down the streets of the busy city with only one destination in mind.

The incident at the party happened weeks ago, and Jimin noticed you disappearing from the apartment more often now. He didn’t like the path you were walking down on, and he could only briefly wonder if this is how you felt when the roles weren’t reversed. Ever since that day, all the boy could do was watch you from afar — going back to phase one and never moving an inch from it. But, despite that, there was one thing he learned from the fate he had to face, and that was..expect the unexpected.

Like now.

“Okay, do me a favor.” Jimin says after he takes a sip of his coffee, eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he peered at the one before him, “you want me to what?”

“Help me,” the man clad in dark wear begs, burgundy beanie hiding his hair, “help me get back with (y/n).”

Jimin is flabbergasted, and maybe he expected this and possibly more, but still, it shook him to the core. The bells to the coffee shop jingle as more passerby lost the battle between not wasting money and the scent of delicious coffee, and Jungkook could only look to the door frantically in hopes that it wasn’t the only person he desperately wanted to see.

Which is obviously you.

“You have balls, you know that?” Jimin comments, sinking into his seat as he leers at Jungkook, “after what you have done; you expect her to fly into your arms and forgive you. Crazy, you know?”

“I know,” Jungkook sighs, and at this moment, Jimin actually takes a chance to inspect the younger man more. His eyes are darker than before, skin pale and body thin — he looked sick, yet, he still stood strong. Jimin knew that the break up wasn’t easy for both of you, hell, he even watched you two fall in love through the years. He knew it, but what he believed, was that the one sitting before him, is beyond feeble. “I know I did wrong, but just one more chance, and–“

“You do know,” Jimin cuts him off, “that she’s seeing Taehyung, don’t you?”

Jungkook’s mouth falls open, and as hard as he tried to reply to Jimin and just find words, he doesn’t. A frown crawls onto his visage, and Jimin’s eyes glide to the fists clenching too hard for comfort. “You’re lying,” he growls, “she would never do that–“

“I heard them, Jungkook.” Which technically isn’t a lie, considering he had front row tickets to the porno. “Things change, and you’re just too late.”

Jungkook’s coffee shakes in his hands and he grits his teeth, eyes lost into another dimension as his anger bubbles in the pit of his stomach, “I’m gonna kick his ass.”

Jimin chokes a laugh. “No, you definitely won’t.”

“Then help me,” Jungkook pleads, and Jimin can’t help but see you once again; vision from the past replaying inside his mind like a mantra, “please, hyung — just this once.”

The older scrunches his nose, eyes draping to a close like curtains as he laughs in irony, “you do know you’re asking help from the one person that should be a threat to you, right?”

“I–“ Jungkook starts, words in a jumbled mess before Jimin raises his hand for his old roommate to shut his mouth.

“I won’t help you.” He then leans in closer, voice soft yet stern as he stares deeply into Jungkook’s eyes, “if you really love her, if you actually want her back — then you should prove to her why you are worth another chance. Don’t be asking anyone for help, when it’s your mess to clean.”

The rest of the evening goes by in silence, just the two boys drinking their coffees and eating their pastries as the evening rush zoomed by the shop. Jimin knew he was being harsh, maybe a little selfish, but he felt it in his heart that the words he spoke needed to be said.

As the car slides into the entrance to the large apartment building, Jimin thanks the other before he opens the door, and stops when Jungkook’s defeated voice slithers into his ears. “If you won’t help me, then do me this one favor.”

Jimin turns in his seat, annoyed expression stamped onto his face as he inwardly groans. “What is it?” He questions, and Jungkook grips the wheel.

“Help (y/n) pick up the pieces, protect her.”

And usually, he isn’t one to listen to others’ demands, yet here he is.

He watches you in the dark of the night as you tiptoe around the apartment, hears the soft little taps of your feet against the hardwood floor as you try your hardest to slug yourself to the front door of the home. Jimin could smell the intense aroma of the alcohol you had been downing, and before he even had a chance to acknowledge what he was doing, the light flickers on and he is met with your terrified eyes.

“Ah, Jimin–“ you smile, standing still, “long time no—“

“Where are you going?” He asks, obviously not caring about the small talk you were about to throw at him.

The face you had on was similar to a child being caught stealing cookies, and you look to the ground in regret, “to a party with Taehyung.”

Jimin shivers.

He takes a deep breath, knowing whatever happened at that moment would definitely affect your friendship together in the future, but Jungkook’s words constantly echoes in his head. “Not anymore, you’re not.”

“Jimin,” you laugh, “what’s gotten into you?”

Running a hand through his unruly locks, he steps closer to you. “(y/n), you’re becoming everything you told me not to become.” He blurts, “seeing you so, so–“

You step closer, scowl decorating your mien with each passing second. “So what, Jimin?” You press, “you don’t seem to understand–“

“You don’t seem to understand, (y/n)-ah.” He points, pushing you softly, “you’re messing around with guys you shouldn’t be, you’re drinking way too much and you’re soul is just disappearing each time you leave this house!” Jimin yells, and you flinch from the tone, “I can’t let you leave anymore, not now, not ever.”

You grimace, many questions written on the tip of your tongue yet you don’t spout any of them, only tilting your head softly to the side in obnoxious curiosity. “What are you, Jimin?” You inquire, eyes sparkling with vigor, “my boyfriend? I don’t think so.”

Jimin stands there stupidly, being reminded of the words he had so blatantly stitched into your ears many months ago, and like always, all he could do is stand there and watch you slowly leave in victory. How could he have failed in his mission to stop you? Was he really that flimsy?

But, in seconds before you were able to actually open the door and leave, Jimin finally relies on his logistic side and throws his heart away; runs through the living room and tackles you into the ground as if his life depended on it. You yelp in surprise before the harsh smack of the floor slaps your intoxicated mind into soberness, and you’re trying your best to push Jimin off of you. “What the fuck,” you sscowl, “get off me!”

“I’m sorry, okay?” Jimin cries, grabbing both your arms and pinning them above your head as he lies on top of you, “I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you needed me most, I’m sorry I pushed you away when you tried to be there for me, I’m just..I’m so fucking sorry (y/n), please understand that.” He is shaking before you, but there was no way in hell that he’d let any sort of tears fall — because right now, it wasn’t about him, but about you. “I promise I’ll be here for you for now on, but just please, please stop going with Taehyung and ruining yourself even further-“

“Then what am I supposed to do, huh, Jimin?” You scream, “there is no where else that I can go to, I don’t know how to heal or move on, and–“

“The fuck? I’m your best friend, (y/n),” he chokes, his bangs tickling your chin as he bows his head, “you can just stay with me, I’ll show you how to move on!”

He is way too frightened to look at you, but when he feels your small hand against his cheek, he instantly glances into your eyes. “You’re way too selfless, Jiminie,” you whisper as your lids softly close, to which he leans in closer to your lips, “but..show me.”

He gulps

“Show me this language you once knew.”

» all rights reserved © s u g o u i — this is a oneshot, and will remain a oneshot. all and any works created by me in the past or in the future are not allowed to be modified, reposted, or translated in any shape or form.

#bts #jimin x reader #bts fanfic #jimin smut #jimin angst #jungkook smut #taehyung smut #bts reactions #jeon jungkook #park jimin #kim taehyung #bts oneshot #jimin oneshot #bts smut

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onlyplatonicirl · 4 years

Text

Birfday Gorl UwU

@shandycandy278

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

“A little to the left.”

“Like this?”

“A bit more.”

“Uh… here?”

“Slime does that look even a little bit symmetrical to you?”

“You’re literally impossible right now,” said Slime, tacking the banner in place regardless of Lorel’s immediate shrieking complaint. “Since when have you become so nit-picky about decoration placement and stuff? Your room looks like an atomic bomb went off in it.”

“Well good thing it’s not my room!” Lorel replied, clapping her hands together in agitation. She rocked on her heals at a very brisk pace, her eyes darting around the room. “Listen, at least just TRY to set this up right?? Also maybe stand on a chair instead of Andrew’s shoulders because if you fall it will not only kill you but them too.”

Andrew blinked at Lorel like she was stupid, their hands on Slime’s legs as the redhead wobbled to tack everything to the wooden banister, tongue sticking out in concentration. Slime exclaimed triumphantly once they successfully had it in place, throwing their hands back in glee. Unfortunately, that also offset their center of gravity.

Lorel turned her back as both of them shrieked and collapsed to the floor, already tuning out their incessant squabbling. The decorations were all set, for the most part. Light blue balloons were floating around the room, with the tablecloth, streamers, banners and confetti to match. The confetti was assumed to be blue, but they didn’t know for sure because it was compressed into cardboard cones, and planned to pop out when the guest of honor arrived. Various other creators scurried to and fro, adding to the ever-growing gift pile, setting up the potluck and adding a multitude of dishes, as well as making small talk amongst themselves before the event started. Lorel recognized the majority of them, and waved to a few of them as she made her way into the main kitchen, ducking under a tray carried by Nobody, with tons of little confectionaries.

But before she could get there, she ran into-

“Chai! How’s everything going?”

Chai laughed in return, giving Lorel a hug. “It’s going great. I’m so excited.”

“SAME,” Lorel said, accompanied with a slouch. “I’ve ben planning this for so long, especially these things.”

She stuck a thumb behind her, motioning to the massive yellow feathered wings that started at her shoulder blades and draped all the way to the floor, the gradient becoming lighter towards the end feathers. Chai raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, I was going to comment on that,” she began. “Those don’t look like your usual, uh… pointy wings.”

“That’s because they aren’t,” Lorel said, running a hand through her hair to clear her eyes. “It took me two full months of studying anatomy and transmogrification with every book on the subject in the entirety of the Council’s Library to get these to form. The number of times I attempted to summon these properly only to result in an explosion of feathers is unreal. Synthia and the others got really tired coming back to find our quarters covered in yellow fluff.”

“Well I like them, they’re soft. But, why exactly???”

Lorel smiled softly. “I don’t know, I just thought it would be kind of sweet because… She always gives the fluffiest and softest hugs. I thought it would be nice if I was able to return the favor for once, to show her how great her trademarked “Floofy Hugs” are. Give her a taste of her own wonderful medicine, haha!”

Chai laughed. “Well, I’D like a floofy hug from you.”

“Once I even figure out how to get these things to fold and move properly? Sure. You can get floofy hugs too,” Lorel replied, smiling. “But we all know that I’m not as good at it.”

“HEY WHY ARE THOSE WINGS SO DISPROPORTIONATELY LARGE?” Someone across the room screamed. Without missing a beat, Lorel whipped around, almost smacking Chai in the face with the limbs she did not quite have the hang of yet.

“I DON’T KNOW, WHY IS YOUR BRAIN SO DISPROPORTIONATELY SMALL, LO??”

“HOW BAD CAN IT BE, LOREL?”

“IT’LL GET PRETTY BAD PRETTY QUICK IF YOU DON’T SHUT YOUR PIEHOLE.”

Chai was busy trying not to laugh herself into combustion, a hand over her mouth. Lorel looked at her, exasperated. “Excuse me for one moment. I need to go check up on the cake. If I stand still for long enough Lo starts trying to play paper-wad basketball with my halos.”

She and Chai gave each other a quick hug, before parting ways with “I love you!!!”’s on both sides.

Peeping her head in through the kitchen doorway, Lorel narrowly avoided a massive jawbreaker being flung across the room. Ly had been in charge of the cake, and it seemed to be going well. The ponkey girl was having a blast, a tube of icing in each hand, and letting out her more wild artistic side. Her tail curled happily in the air as she drew gravity defying shapes around the cake out of vanilla frosting. Lorel smiled and left. At least that was taken care of. But there was still a lot of other things to do. There were two many bodies in too small of a room. It was chaos, and she had signed up to oversee it all.

Lorel sighed. Why did she ever agree to running anything? The only mature thing about her was her physical age. Time to be the adult, I guess.

Climbing up a few steps to gain a slight leverage and trying not to trip over her new way-too-large wings, she clapped her hands to quell the silence. She soon had the attention of the room.

“OKAY,” she began. “HERE’S HOW THIS IS GONNA GO BEFORE MY WIFE ARRIVES—”

A single, large breath in.

“Lyn and Lynn, take watch outside for her. Blossom, make sure everyone’s got a party hat, and help Shadow and Template with the paintings if they need any. Lucky and Achro keep the streets secure, we don’t want any blockheads ruining our big day. Dey, Launch, Template, Poggers, Lily, both Alexes, Rawlyx and Zen are on exterior decoration duty. I want every corner of the roof tied with decorations. Ly’s finishing the cake, and she’ll need a handful of people to aid her in setting everything up. Smartie can attend to that, as well as Diamond. Slime and Andrew, I know I’m asking the impossible, but your job is to not be stupid for like - at least 2 minutes. AT LEAST. Everyone else find a good hiding spot and no shoving or pushing or summoning ancient celestial daggers or transforming into a five headed demons. Or you’re getting kicked out of the party. Scrub, be my monitor, would you? And Otter’s job is to keep being absolutely adorable and precious. Are we all clear?”

The whole building cheered, and Lorel finally sighed. Right next to her was Otter, who she promptly scooped up in her arms and kissed on the forehead with a very loud “mwah” to follow. Otter happily closed their eyes – a pseudo-smile.

“OKAY THEN. WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU ALL STILL STANDING AROUND FOR??? LET’S MOVE IT, LOSERS! GO GO GO GO GO!”

Everyone quickly bustled about, and Lorel set Otter back on the floor once again. Creators of every shape and size scrambled about, trying to find places to hide, and all the lights were shut off when the two Lyn(n)s gave the cue

“She’s coming she’s coming!”

The house went completely silent, save for the sound of footsteps approaching the door.

The handle turned-

And all the light’s clicked on. Everyone jumped up from behind the couch, and light blue confetti flew everywhere as everyone screamed in unison.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY SHANDY!!!!!!!!!”

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

HAPPY BIRTH SHANDYYYYYYYY ILSYM SORRY I DIDNT FINISH THIS YESTERDAY AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

IM GONNA TAG THE MAIN PPL IN THIS FIC BC IM A LITTLE BIT PRESSED FOR TIME RN AND I DONT HAVE TIME TO TAG EVERYONE BUT ILL LINK IT SO AAAAAAA

Mainly Featuring:

@andrewture @156lemongummies @greetings-and-yeetings @chais-chaos-corner @puuuddiing @lookyeekiti

AS WELL AS THE AMAZING @shandycandy278 AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

ILYSMMM

This fic takes place in @creatorverse

#creatorverse #creatorverse fanfiction #AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA #IDK WHAT ELSE TO TAG #HAPPY BIRTH #OKAY I GOTTA GO IM SUPER PRESSED FOR TIME FJDSAKFJDKLAF #FLOOFY HUGS YOU BACK

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hungryflowers · 4 years

Text

Sensing Lamentation

Title: Sensing Lamentation

Rating: General Audience

Fandom/Continuity: Balan Wonderworld

Character Relationship(s): Leo Craig/Balan

Character(s): Leo, Balan, Past Character (Unnamed), Lance (Only Mentioned)

A/N: I’ve been in a funk for quite awhile, so I decided to do this to hopefully make me feel better. 2020 was a rough year and these last few days have torn out my soul. I want to write this as a small means of healing myself. Also, I’m a slight out of practice with my writing craft, so if any errors, I apologize.

Other: This isn’t a ship! Regardless of what the ‘Character Relationship’ part says, keep in mind that Leo is fifteen years old and Balan is potentially eldritch aged. He’s seen all sides of humanity, so he gets it. He’s not attracted to the boy, nor will I write him to be. Just putting that out there before y’all get to thinking that he a ‘cradle robber’ who lures in heartbroken kids.

He was more than content with sitting in the whist, luminescent room. Parchment on one end, tar-like ink on the other, the Maestro had made a day for himself to just... create. A tune swirled in his mind, the musings of the melody playing on repeat as he etched time out of his day to put it to paper. The endeavor was not a failed one, yet it hardly yielded the desired results. Feather to temple, Balan stretched his elongated back. Sunlight had eluded him in the short time he sat. Eyes glanced for the nearest time telling device in the room; eight forty-five. He had been at the same table, staying finicky over the same paper for the same tune for nearly four hours. Not a new reaction, yet he was normally more productive. Sighing, he adjusted his wide-brimmed top hat as he moved around to restock, stock, or keep tabs on anything necessary for anymore acts.

The little tims peeped and scuttle along, following the maestro as if he’d been a pied piper. Playful eyes shimmered with glee as he picked up the few that straddled his lanky legs. Placing them on a crate, he kept at his inventory. They still peeped and chimed, more frequent and annoyed.

“None of that...” A quiescent quip from the maestro had them calmed. It seemed that have to find another opportunity to have Balan’s attention.

In the after math of busying himself with caring for little things, the maestro had failed to notice, or hear the subtle steps of a child passing by. The shock of hearing another breathing individual was enough to make him pause. Standing to his full height Balan went around looking for the soul whom had trespassed without him acknowledgement. He was quite forthcoming with introductions or having someone speaking to him before departing. It was in good manner to appear respectful to those around you.

The steps he had neglected to hear before ventured up the stairs to the next floor. Which was quite odd, as only guests that Balan himself invited, or staff that convened there, were allowed upstairs. He had to rectify this immediately. Snooping was not tolerated under the maestro’s gaze. He kept his eyes on a sleeping chamber that was lit behind the sturdy mahogany door as he crept up the spiral staircase. On a normal day, he’d just float up and push open the door, however he still had enough respect to announce his presence before coming in.

Standing in front of the door, his hand went to jiggle the handle, only to stop at the softest sounds of what he knew as sorrow. Eyes widened, his hand came off the knob as if he had been burned by it. There was a little one... softly sobbing in the chambers. He fought against an unusual impulse to shove himself inside, yet the longer he listened, the harder it became to ignore. He reminded himself to adhere to the rules and guidelines he had made for himself and Lance: do not interfere unless the justification is absolute. For some unspoken reason he felt the need to disregard his rule this only time. And with that impactful instinct hammering into him, he gave in.

He knocked loud enough for the little soul to hear yet did not speak, waiting for someone to answer or reply. There was one solid minute without noise, the little one seeming to buck up after hearing the knock. When Balan knocked again, he earned a response, “Who is it? What do you want?”

Balan recognized the young man’s voice instantly. A shadow of sadness glazing his stare as he leant on the door a bit. What was making Leo so upset? Who could have caused such an unrest in the boy’s spirit?

“Leo... It’s Balan. May I come in?” He slid to his knees, in case the boy would open for him. After a moment, the heavy door slowly crept open, for Balan to view the young visitor’s face; that now appears wet from tears.

Instead of asking too many questions, Balan just slid a bit closer to Leo, arms stretched enough to reach but not touch. A simple gesture to show he’d be there for him.

Leo glanced at the gesture, measuring it to see what he’d want to do. His shoeless feet pawed the hardwood as he contemplated what he would do. He thought it would be best for the maestro to disregard the idea of comforting him. He’d remain a soldier fighting a battle on his own. Yet at the same time, he didn’t want that. And that juggle of care and carelessness caused more tears to well in his eyes before he opened his mouth. He barely caught a sniffle before he felt his feet leaving the floor. Blue eyes scanned his surroundings before he gauged that he was in Balan’s arms, embrace pulling him softly to his chest. Agony gripped the young boy as he sobbed into the maestro’s shoulder, tiny hands gripping him as if he’d disappear.

Balan remained on his knees as the boy broke down, sun-yellow eyes closing as he allowed him the ability to let go. To let it hurt... if only for a while. The boy continued to sob as he motioned to stand, going into the chambers as his hands patted Leo’s back, slowing going into his hair to bring him closer. That hymn, the song Balan could not put to sheet, or find the right words to, came back. Only this time, the humming bled into words,

“When there is light, a shadow appears the cause and effect, when life interferes the same rule applies to goodness and grief; for in our great sorrow, we learn what joy means,”

His little visitor opened his eyes in an attempt to look at Balan as he sang aloud. While he could see his smile, the wide brim of his hat obscured the rest of his face. He wanted to look at the maestro fully as he hummed the rest of the tune, rocking and hugging him as a mother would do for a babe.

The maestro himself continued to hum the melody while pressing in as close as allowed. Softening his grip, he brought the little one to look at him. And became overwhelmed with the glowing vision of the boy staring back at him. Trusting him in this way. Words were not required to be exchanged while the maestro strode slowly to the large bed to lay him down. While Leo calmed down, Balan brought a chair over to sit near the bed’s end.

“Leo, what troubles you little one? You can tell me. This place,” he moved his arms around the chambers, “is completely safe. Nothing leaves here. Your sacred words are for my ears only. Words that I will keep close to me. I promise.” He placed his immense hand on Leo’s shoulder as the boy relaxed into it. Taking a breath, he soothed over his raked nerves while he thought of the right thing to say. His chest appeared tighter than normal, fingers lacing together and fidgeting. In spite of his bravery to show his emotions to Balan, he still felt like a wounded, stubborn soldier; unable to admit that his wounds were draining him. His eyes strewn about the room instead of interacting with the tall, lanky figure.

Balan did nothing to prompt the boy to say anything quickly. No means to force him to confess to what was ailing him in this way without volition. So he waited. Patient and understanding. He’d talk when it is time. He watched him take a few short breaths then they locked eyes once more. The fragility was nearly enough to break the maestro’s heart.

“I...I was just really upset about someone I used to know. We were real close. I loved them... they were like a sibling to me,” Leo sniffled as he pulled his hair back, “But then I said something wrong... and so did they. And then we never saw each other again. I didn’t... mean what I said, but I-I was just so-”

“Angry,” Balan stated, “You lashed out at them and now you’re feeling extreme guilt for it.”

“I guess I’m madder at myself because I left without giving them a reason, but what could I say?,” The young teen looked at the bed sheets as he rubbed his nose, “Have you ever been in my situation before?” Leo inquired after a second of thought.

Balan blinked rapidly, the small smile he kept fading in surprise. It was an emboldened inquiry. Aureate eyes slid closed, reminiscing to the time he and Lance fell out. Harshly. Only, it was not Balan who attacked with scathing words. Nothing more could be said between as the maestro departed from the other with bolide of tears streaking the cosmos in his wake. Lance never created the courage to apologize for those words, no matter how many times Balan imagined that he would. It came as an acceptance of bad pride on both ends that kept the healing away from the two of them. Even if Balan was no longer in need of the healing. The words were said, there could be nothing in Wonderworld or in the actual world to change that.

“Yes... but it was at a time I no longer remember.” Balan did not meet Leo’s eyes this time. His words were satisfying enough for Leo but he knew there was more to the story.

“All I want to do is say sorry. But it’s too late.” The young boy put his head in his hands, a miserable whimper coming forth.

“Maybe... maybe not. Leo, I may not be able to give the proper answer about how you can ask for your friend’s forgiveness. However, I do know how you can forgive yourself. And that is to accept that friends can genuinely drift apart. Something in the relationship fissures and causes both of you to turn away from each other. You can accept the blame, Leo. That’s okay. But you shouldn’t be hurting yourself with that blame.” Balan’s gloved hand pressed to Leo’s cheek, making the teen look at him. The way that Balan smiled made Leo’s lip curl in sweet smile as well.

“Thank you... so much. I really needed to hear that. I just felt like it was all my fault.” He pressed himself into the gloved hand, warmth radiating off the limb.

“You’re most welcome, little one. And know that I’m here for you. With any insecurity, I’ll help you in the best way I can,” His head pressed to Leo’s, well not quite. The large hat obscuring leant on the boy’s forehead, which felt annoying for the point he was attempting to make. He half sighed and laughed before standing out of the chair.

“One thing. Remember when I said that sacred secrets do not leave this space?”Balan’s tone hinted at something yet Leo couldn’t find what about it, so instead he stiffly nodded, “Okay good. Because I have a very sacred secret to show you. Only you.” He cooed as his hands went to his hat, the article of fabric coming off his face and head with a slow tug. With a shake, jade colored dreads fell free, his gloved hands fluffing them as he pushed a threaded dread away from his forehead.

“There we go,” He stated mutely as he put the hat on a vanity in the corner, moving to sit back down in front of the awestruck child, “Yes I know. I’m so funny looking.” He grinned cheerily before setting his hands atop the bedsheets.

“No you’re not...”, Leo scooted closer to Balan, the maestro still grinning happily as he did, “You look so beautiful.” The teen breathed whimsically, as if entranced by the sight of him.

The grin was pulled off Balan’s face so quick, Leo felt as if he had offended him. Golden eyes flickering like candlelight in the lucent, yet dark room. For a fraction of a second, the world spun. He could see stars on the brim of his vision. After a great upheaval of air from his lungs, Balan came back.

“Beautiful...? No one’s ever called me that before.” He chuckled sheepishly as he smoothed over his dreads.

“But can I call you beautiful?” Leo became a bit shy, the poor boy looked as if he did something wrong.

“If that helps, then yes. You are more than welcome to call me ‘beautiful’, little one.” The maestro bowed in the chair gracefully. He smiled genuinely while he pulled little Leo in for a hug, the teen leaning into him as he pressed into his shoulder. As they parted, Balan found his moment to press his forehead against Leo’s. Their contact was electric, stunning but completely welcomed as Balan breathed him in softly. Leo reciprocated the gesture, his small hands wrapping around the maestro’s neck affectionately. Oceanic, hope-filled orbs blended with the sunset gold ones in perfection. They stayed like such for a while, neither coming up with any words to justify this moment between them had. When they had to pull apart, Balan was the one who leant forward, as if not wanting the contact to come to an end.

He gets up, still holding the teen, to lay him down on the large bed. Leo relaxes in the maestro’s embrace as he buries his face into his neck. Balan didn’t stop the sweet, light-hearted laugh that bubbled forth as he encompasses the boy, swaddling him in the warmth of his body. They exchange a final look before Leo yawns softly. His eyes, previously stricken with tears of grief, now sparkle with ebullience and peace.

The remainder of the night was of Balan holding the little one as if he were the only thing in the world, his world, to think of at that moment. Surrounded by a jubilant contentment, he lain himself bare in front of this particular visitor for the first time in ages. So long as it was with Leo, he’d do it again.

Over and over again.

#balan wonderworld #balan

20 notes · View notes

rigonelli · 5 years

Note

how bout He Tian cooking for MoMo for once as a writing prompt?

(Thanks anon! I had a lot of fun with this. Sorry it got so chaotic, but I guess… He Tian cooking can’t really end any other way, huh?)

Seduce me with your cock jokes

„I don’t think it’s supposed to be purple.”

He Tian turned away from the poisonous-looking concoction on the stove to glower at Mo Guan Shan.

“Didn’t I tell you not to intervene?”

“I tried to, but I think I heard your sauce screaming from the back of the room,” said Mo Guan Shan, imitating a high-pitched scream, “Help me! Help me! Even though I’m literally only three ingredients mixed together, I have become sentient in my pain!”

He Tian had to stop stirring the sauce, which immediately turned into a lump of slime at the bottom of the pan. He couldn’t believe Mo Guan Shan. Did he want to die?

His incredulous look was met with a bratty raise of the eyebrows.

“What?” said Mo Guan Shan. “Did you spend all that time talking me into a date only to knock me on the head with a wooden spoon? Because I will go home!”

“It’s the alcohol!” He Tian realized after a second. “Alcohol makes you brave?”

Finally, the well-known fiery-red skin-color that usually decorated Mo Guan Shan’s face returned.

“It’s not the alcohol! I’m not an easily blushing teenager who’s afraid of you!”

He clearly swallowed the ‘anymore’ on his tongue.

“Oh, but you see – you’re mistaken,” drawled He Tian, sporting the lazy grin he knew would drive his little redhead up the wall. “This is not a date. If it were, I wouldn’t be cooking for you.”

“You’re right,” said Mo Guan Shan, fighting to gain his composure back. “This is more like… torture? What do I owe the mafia, what will it take to keep you from feeding me this poisonous, flesh-eating lump of gravy?”

He Tian refused to show his surprise again. He was starting to enjoy this snappy version of Mo.

“You asked for this,” He Tian reminded him. “And I’m only indulging you because you somehow found a way to cheat at basketball, and-“

“There is no way to cheat at basketball,” said Mo Guan Shan. “I won because I actually still play it in my free time, whereas you are too busy skinning politicians alive.”

“Don’t make stupid assumptions about my job.”

“Don’t think you’re still superior to me. The way I see it, you’re a grown man who is starting to lose his youthful fitness, still lives in his uncle’s apartment, and can’t cook for shit.”

He Tian had no words for that, so he just stared, waiting for Mo Guan Shan to falter under his evil eye. The wooden spoon he was holding fed thick, syrupy droplets of gravy to the linoleum floor. Mo Guan Shan tried his best to return the stare, but his face was still red, and he probably had to fight the urge to toss the wooden spoon into the sink and clean the floor.

“Will you have my babies?” He Tian finally asked.

“Wh- what?”

“I’m serious, I think you just gave me an erection.”

Mo Guan Shan spluttered incoherently, trying his hardest not to look down He Tian’s body to check if it was true. The red hue on his face intensified until it was practically black.

He Tian grinned, pleased. There was his little redhead. So grown up, but still as cute as always.

“I thought this wasn’t a date,” Mo Guan Shan finally coughed. “So keep it in your pants.”

“I don’t know if I can. You keep being so bold and sexy.”

Mo Guan Shan finally tore the wooden spoon from his hand. “Shut up!” he said, turning towards the sink to hide his face. “Let me take care of the sauce. You can make the eggs. That’s even easier. Even you should manage.”

“Okeydokey,” sang He Tian, happily turning towards the fridge. It had been hard work to get Mo Guan Shan this far – even though he still blushed just thinking about He Tian’s erection, he had admitted that he saw this as a date. After all these years of pining, He Tian might just start to see the finish line in the distance.

Mo Guan Shan was already done with the sauce when he realized that He Tian still stood in front of the open fridge, staring inside.

“The hell?” he spat. “Get working!”

“I might have a problem,” admitted He Tian, closing the fridge door. “I’m out of eggs.”

“You’re what?” Mo Guan Shan screeched.

“Are they that important?”

“For Egg Foo Yung?” Mo Guan Shan threw his hands up, raging. “That’s eggs with gravy! What do you want to do – sip the pure gravy out of a bowl?”

“It’s basically a soup,” said He Tian, mostly to rile Mo Guan Shan up even more. Unfortunately, that just led to his ‘date’ stomping away to grab his jacket.

“I’m going home,” he announced. “I still have perfectly good leftovers in my own fridge.”

“Wait!” He Tian grabbed his hand. “It’s okay, I can get us some eggs.”

“It’s too late, all the shops are closed!”

“That’s okay, I have my connections…”

Mo Guan Shan stared at him, yanking his hand away. “Are you serious?” he blistered. “Don’t use your weird mafia family to get eggs! That’s just creepy!”

He Tian needed a moment to understand Mo Guan Shan’s line of thought. “What? Of course not – I mean, I have a completely off-the-rails crazy neighbor who keeps a flock of hens in his apartment.”

At least that was weird enough to make Mo Guan Shan stop in his tracks and turn away from the door.

“You what?”

“Old man, on the ground floor. Must have inherited the apartment, because he’s poor, I think, or he just likes selling eggs. Anyway, I’m sure he has some fresh ones, I’ll go get some.”

He walked past Mo Guan Shan, out the door towards the elevator to show that he meant it. Mo Guan Shan followed, but took his jacket off to make sure He Tian knew he wasn’t running off.

“You’re joking, right?” Mo Guan Shan said on the elevator ride down. “We’re just doing the normal thing and ask any normal neighbor to borrow an egg.”

“Do you know me as a big joker?” He Tian asked.

“I mean. I have like a thousand dick pics you sent me as a joke.”

“Didn’t know how to come on to you back then.” He Tian shrugged. The elevator dinged and the doors opened.

Mo Guan Shan followed a step behind He Tian as if he were trying to hide from the crazy hen-Person.

“He’s not gonna eat you,” He Tian chuckled as he rang the doorbell. “Wait a minute…”

The door opened just as He Tian turned to Mo Guan Shan and loudly exclaimed, “You kept my dick pics?”

A punch in the arm was his only reward. That and the old crazy hen-man’s furrowed brows.

“What do you want this late?” he croaked.

“My friend here doesn’t believe that you keep a flock of chickens in your apartment,” said He Tian, pointing his thumb towards Mo Guan Shan, who moved even closer to hide behind his body. “Can you show him?”

“Couldn’t you just ask for the eggs?” Mo Guan Shan whispered angrily, but the old man had already opened the door and motioned for them to come inside. He Tian entered the apartment, barely containing his glee. The incredulous, “What the fuck?” behind him was so good, it sent shivers down his spine. Too bad he couldn’t see Mo’s face right now.

“Is this… allowed?” Mo Guan Shan wondered aloud, looking around at the interior. Couch, bed, tables and open cupboards – everything had been taken by the hens. A whole wardrobe was converted into a chicken coop with different floors, completely covered in hay. There were nests with fresh eggs in them.

Mo Guan Shan had forgotten to be wary of the crazy chicken man and walked through the apartment in silent wonder. He Tian was content just to watch him.

“How is there no shit anywhere?” he asked after a while.

The old man turned from where he was bent into the wardrobe to gather some eggs. “Taught them to use the litter box,” he grunted.

Mo Guan Shan received that information without blinking an eyelid. There was no room for more bewilderment.

“You wanna see somethin’ special?” the old man asked. He Tian thought it sounded a little suspicious – like he was going for the ‘want to look at my bunnies?’ shtick. But Mo Guan Shan had thrown all caution out the window.

“More special than this? Hell yeah!”

The bunnies weren’t even that far off in the end. He Tian followed the two into the bathroom, which emitted an eerie red light. Not even that scared Mo Guan Shan off. He Tian silently congratulated himself on a successful date. This was so much better than going to the movies.

“In there,” said the old man, pointing to the bathtub. The constant peeping spoiled the surprise before they actually saw the baby chicks under the heat lamp, but Mo Guan Shan still gave a soft gasp.

“What the fuck!” Those words had never been whispered so gently. “They’re… they’re so small!”

“Touch one,” said the creepy old man. He Tian sent him an icy glare – it wouldn’t hurt to turn the rapey-ness down a notch. But Mo Guan Shan happily grabbed for a little chick and held it in his hands.

“And so soft!” His face relaxed in one of those extremely rare, memorable moments. He Tian almost stopped breathing, just watching him.

“Yeah, I’ll have to flush that one down the toilet,” grumbled the old man, effectively flushing the nice moment down the toilet.

“What?” Mo Guan Shan screeched.

“It’s a cock. I only need one of those.”

“So you flush it down the toilet?” Mo Guan Shan protectively laid a hand over the chick, as if to cover its ears. “It’s just a little baby!”

“That seems cruel,” He Tian agreed. “You could at least give it a quick death. Wring it’s neck or something.”

“He Tian!” Mo Guan Shan screeched again. Then, suddenly, his eyes turned pleading. “We can’t let it die! Let’s take it to your apartment!”

He Tian blinked, not sure if Mo Guan Shan was serious.

“Why? To cook it?”

“Of course not! To save it!”

He was about to say no. He really was. It was the stupidest idea he’d ever heard. But a far-away memory, the echo of a puppy-dog’s howling rang in his ears, and he just couldn’t.

“I’ll sell it for a thousand yuan,” the old man tried. He Tian’s glare shut him up.

Turning back to Mo Guan Shan, he said, “But only if you say it.”

“Say what?”

“Say: He Tian – I want you to take my cock. I want you to pet it and kiss it and care for it. I want you to let it grow. I want you to-“

“This is no time for making cock-jokes!” Mo Guan Shan yelled, still covering the chick’s ears. He paused a moment to glower at He Tian.

He Tian waited patiently.

“Please take my cock,” Guan Shan finally ground out.

With a feeling like he hadn’t really thought this whole thing through, He Tian started to beam. “Great! We’ll take him!” He turned to look at the old man. “And I’ll take a carton of eggs. Here are forty yuan.”

The man took He Tian’s money with a shrug, went to fetch a carton of eggs and shooed them out of the apartment.

“Next time, don’t wake me up!” he warned, slamming the door shut.

“What a miserable guy,” said He Tian. He turned to look at Mo Guan Shan when he heard a soft ‘ouch!’

The chick had shat all over Mo Guan Shan’s hand and was now pecking at his fingers. He Tian watched him struggle for a while, then sighed.

“You’re already regretting this, aren’t you?”

“No!” Mo Guan Shan said, clearly lying. “It’s just nervous, because we just took it from its friends and home!”

“Its home was a bathtub.”

“Whatever,” he said and entered the elevator. He Tian followed behind, pressing the button for his floor, ignoring the sounds of pain coming from his date.

Mo Guan Shan managed to hold back until they stood in front of He Tian’s door. Then he finally caved.

“Hey. Would you… Any chance you’d like to hold my cock?”

He Tian opened his door with a grin.

“Anytime, my love. Anytime.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Bonus 1)

“I’ll kill him!” He Tian groaned, pulling up the blanket to cover his ears. “And I hate you!”

“Wow, you’ve gotten a lot less suck-uppy now that you’ve actually managed to fuck me, huh?”

“Fuck off!” He Tian mumbled through the thick blanket, which still wasn’t able to drown out the cock’s incessant crowing. “And learn some words! And for fuck’s sake, silence your shitty pet!”

The mattress moved under Mo Guan Shan’s weight as he climbed out of the bed in search of the bird he had saved four month ago.

Or rather; that he had talked He Tian into saving. On that day, He Tian couldn’t have known how horrible that decision would turn out to be. Sure, the remaining evening had been great. They had built a little house for the chick out of cardboard, paper and a table lamp. They had eaten a great Egg Foo Yung which Mo Guan Shan had cooked (they both agreed that He Tian would never be let loose in a kitchen ever again). And although the amount of noise the chick had made had seemed impossible for such a small thing, they had both been able to ignore it long enough to have very special and great sex.

Unfortunately, as the chick had grown, so had the noise. And now it started to wake them up with the most sinister cock-a-doodle-doo He Tian had ever heard.

The third crow had him toss his blanket to the side to stomp into the kitchen in search of a frying pan to flatten the monster bird with. Unfortunately, Mo Guan Shan had rearranged everything as soon as he had moved in and now He Tian couldn’t find it fast enough before two arms wrapped around him and a warm, naked body pressed against his back.

“Relax,” Mo Guan Shan said, pressing his face between He Tian’s shoulder blades. “I fed him. He’s quiet now.”

“One of these days, I’ll throw him out of the window just to see if it’s really true that chickens can’t fly!” He Tian grumbled, but he felt the anger seep out of him with every second their bodies were touching. “I’m telling you – that bird is possessed by a demon!”

“That’s just how roosters are,” Mo Guan Shan said.

“No, I’m serious! It has a murderous glint in its eye. Did I tell you about how I came home the other day and saw it on the kitchen counter with a knife in its beak?”

“Yeah, I still think you’re over-exaggerating.”

“It’s true! The big steak knife!”

“I don’t think She Li would be strong enough to hold that up. And how would he have gotten in the drawers?”

He Tian turned in Mo Guan Shan’s embrace to give him a serious look. “I’m just saying. If you ever come home to find the rooster a bloody mess on the floor, it was only because I wanted to protect you.”

“Noted,” Mo Guan Shan said, leaning in to kiss He Tian.

He Tian closed his eyes, happy to let himself be wrapped around Mo Guan Shan’s little finger. Maybe he was stupid to let a murderous, noisy rooster live in his apartment just because his boyfriend had a soft spot for animals.

But.

For Mo Guan Shan?

He Tian would even let a She Li live in his bathtub, no questions asked. Because it was true love, baby.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Bonus 2)

He Tian was still fuming when he opened the door to their apartment. It had been a long and strenuous day at work. Most days were. But to top it all off, this morning, after being as rudely awoken as always, he had found his favorite jacket in pieces on the floor. And not just that – it was covered in shit.

Mo Guan Shan had left for work already and He Tian hadn’t gotten up to feed She Li, and this was the result of the rooster’s rage.

Had it not been the exact date of their 6 months anniversary, He Tian would have finally made good on his promises and wrung the bird’s neck.

“Welcome home!”

Mo Guan Shan’s voice finally managed to calm He Tian a bit – that and the delicious smell coming from the kitchen.

“You cooked?” he asked, peeking around the corner, where Mo Guan Shan was just finishing up a salad, still clad in his stained apron that looked so cute on him.

“Yes,” Mo Guan Shan said. “It’s my anniversary present for you.”

“Okay?” He Tian said, hanging up his jacket and slipping out of his shoes. “It’s not like that’s a rare thing, though.”

“Are you complaining?”

“Would never,” He Tian grinned. Then he saw the table. “Wow! Looks like a feast!”

“Took me a few hours,” Guan Shan admitted. “I’m done now.”

He put the salad on the table, put the apron away and produced two wine glasses and a bottle of red wine from the pantry.

“Fancy,” He Tian commented. He sat down and accepted the glass Mo Guan Shan poured for him. “This day is really taking a turn for the better.”

“I saw the mess,” Mo Guan Shan said. “Sorry about that.”

“Let’s not think about it for a moment.”

They clinked their glasses together.

“To six happy months. They were only like five years overdue,” He Tian said.

“If you had sent me less dick pics, I may have gotten curious earlier.”

“Ouch.”

They both took a sip, sighing contently.

“Well… I hope you enjoy the food,” Mo Guan Shan said. “This took a lot of work.”

“It smells delicious.” He Tian reached for his cutlery to take a tentative bite from the meat off his plate and immediately leaned back in bliss when the flavors hit his tongue. “Are you kidding me? This is the best thing you ever made! What the hell?”

“I won’t reveal my secrets,” Mo Guan Shan said, hiding his smile behind his wine glass, which didn’t really work, since it was see-through. “Now just shut up and enjoy.”

“Oh, I will!” He Tian said, leaning forward again to take another bite. “Speaking of shutting up – it’s so quiet around here. How did you get She Li to shut up? Did you take him to the crazy hen-man for the night?”

Mo Guan Shan just shrugged his shoulder and cut a piece off the delicious chicken-breast on his own plate. “Yeah, something like that,” he said, smiling again.

“Something like that.”

#19 days #old xian #tianshan #he tian #mo guan shan #he tian x mo guan shan #fanfiction #my fics

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bubblyani · 5 years

Text

Limit of Love

(Freddie Jackson x Reader)

Part 1 of Freddie Jackson Two Shot

Request by : @97freaknik

Rating: Mature (18+)

Author’s Note: When the idea of Freddie being in love was presented to me, it really did feel very challenging to imagine, given what we see in The Take. But anyways, we all can dream and imagine. And based on the request, I went through a rollercoaster ride myself writing this. Separated this into two parts, so that I can really get in to this. Hope you all enjoy!

The sun shining at nighttime was a phenomenon considered impossible. But not for you. Especially whenever those eyes, mixed with green and blue were in view. Whenever that smile, that flashed with happiness never left you alone. The smile that hinted happiness that only both of you could ever share.

All this, belonged to Freddie Jackson. And fortunately, he belonged to you.

“Busy with work?”

The question escaped your lips ever so casually, as your boyfriend entered the flat. You may have sounded so, but only you knew how excited you were upon seeing him.

“Mmmm yeah yeah...more or less” closing the door behind him, Freddie pondered while answering,“How about you?” His attention proceeded to move over to you, who seemed to be leaning on the pantry, scribbling something with focus.

“Oh! the same...yeah” you replied, tone filled with empathy, eyes unmoved.

“What you up to?”

“Ah...I got to fill these out for mum..” you said, pointing with your pen when he peeped from your side.

“It’s funny...” you began, “...when my parents used to tell me how busy they were, I wouldn’t believe them for one sodding bit...but now...” chuckling, you continued, “I understand...”

You didn’t hear his reply. In fact you didn’t hear anything at all.

“I hope you know...I’m not that kind of girl...to give you an awful time just cause I don’t see you for a few days an-Freddie? are you listening?”

Your question finally seemed valid, especially when you felt the zipper of your dress slowly being undone, and you knew Freddie was behind you.

“Hmmm? Yeah go on...” his mindless response made you chuckle, for you knew where this was heading.

“Anyways, I’m really alright with th ...” you suddenly paused, “....that”. You were suddenly aware of the tight claps of your bra as it was finally loosened, when he unhooked it.

“Hmmm...”

In a concentrated world of his own, Freddie went ahead to brush your hair upfront. Your skin was rife with life with his feathery kisses landing on the back of your neck.

“So...how about...” shivering, you continued , “you?”

Holding on to the pantry, you were fully distracted from your previous engagement, “Things still sour with Ozzy?” You struggled to form that question with all your might when his kisses descended down to the your now exposed back.

“Yeah....not much has changed with that selfish bugger...” he muttered on to your skin. You sighed, slowly turning to face him.

“I’m sorry Freddie...” you said, stroking his cheek, “he might think highly of Jimmy now. But it won’t last forever...”

“Yeah well... let’s not talk about that fuckin’ geezer...when I’m here with you. Come here-”

With his hands on your waist, he kissed you on the lips.You were clearly reminded of the magic you shared with him the moment the lips touched.

As the magic sustained, those hands skillfully wandered back, tightly holding on to the openings of your dress. And in one clean motion , you felt him pull your dress down, the unhooked bra catching up, until you remained in just your underwear. Giggling into the kiss, you were definitely not surprised.

“Awwww...hello darlings...” Freddie cried out affectionately, his eyes moving over to your bare breasts. Brushing your hair back, you offered him a better view. “Fuckin’ hell...” you watched him lick his lips,“I missed these so much I even fuckin’ dreamt of them...” leaning forward, your head titled to the side as you felt him kiss your jawline. He was indeed serious, quickly cupping your left breast with his right hand, his palm encircling your nipple until it grew hard. All this, you were no stranger to. It was merely one of the things he enjoyed,and you certainly didn’t mind.

“Did you miss me?”

He pulled away from your neck, the moment you asked him that. You may be fine not seeing him for a while, but it did not encompass your insecurities about his feelings for you.

His left hand that remained on your waist suddenly disappeared, grabbing your face only to kiss you once again. You felt your entire body de solidify when his kiss grew intense. You wanted to take all those words back when his tongue entwined with yours, deepening it within seconds.

“Every ...fucking ...day babe” he breathed. Excitedly, you bit your lower lip upon his satisfactory response. Finally your hunger were on par with his.

“You know...”

“Hmmm?”

“It has been a while...” you purred, guiding his hand from your face, over to your buttocks, “since we-Ahh...” gasping, you felt a dose of pleasure when he took your nipple between his fingers, “...fooled around on the pantry” you moaned, immersed in arousal as his fingers rolled the hardened bud.

Chuckling low in victory, Freddie gave it a playful pull, making it swollen and red. Once he savored your moan which followed, he kissed you hungrily, showing his approval before lifting you up, placing you firmly on the pantry top to begin your lustful escapade.

6 months. You couldn’t believe you didn’t know of him, you didn’t know of this bliss 6 months before.

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

(6 months ago)

A zombie would have approved of the way you stepped into the pub, for it was a spot on imitation.The pub was almost deserted, and fortunately you preferred it that way. How else would it mirror your emotions? Sliding into a bar stool, your heavy sigh signaled the bartender of your arrival.

The vodka you ordered did not seem to help one bit, leading you to take another sip with a larger volume. You wished you could melt away just like the alcohol that melted away in your tongue. In the midst of all the melancholy, you were suddenly startled when a figure sat right next to you.

“Oi! Billy...the usual, mate”

This voice, it hinted somewhat of an attractive tone. It was the tone you liked. And as you stealthily turned your head to lay your eyes on him, you knew your instincts were not mistaken. His half opened shirt showed off the gold chain around his neck. And the way he scratched his ear, gave his rings and piercing quite the attention. But nevertheless, he looked appealing. He was handsome in your eyes, and you knew you weren’t the only one who stood by this. And all the sudden, you felt aware of yourself.

“You like what you see, babe?”

Eyes widened, you were now definitely aware of how he caught you staring.

“Oh!” turning away in an instant “I’m sorry...that was rude” you said weakly. He chuckled.

“Ohhh...naaahhh” he shook his hand in the air“it’s alright, it’s a free country, innit Billy?” He said, looking at the bartender.

You chuckled, feeling more at ease. It seems you haven’t screwed up yet.

“So...” the man began, “...what’s a beauty like you...” he continued, pointing at you, “doing here alone..at a time like this?”

The mere fact he acknowledged you as beautiful was a progressive step forward. And it cheered you up even more.

“Well...this ‘beauty’ just got fired”you said, raising your glass “Here’s to no future!”

“Awww fuckin hell...” with a dejected tone, he turned to you “ I’m sorry love” he said, to which you responded with shrugged shoulders, “Billy...another round for her..on me”

Heart wrapped in warmth, you looked up from your glass, “Thanks”

Along with the second round, came in introductions, and more excuses for conversation.

“So...what were you doing?”

“I was a hairdresser” you said, “at Lola’s”

“Blimey...is that right?” He asked with surprise. You nodded with a smile.

“Uh huh” you uttered, making you sad later on.

“Well,...”he began,“it’s a fuckin pity they lost themselves a great employee..” he said, lighting up his cigar during.

“Heheh you don’t know that” you said, with your elbows on the table “for all you may know, I might have been the worst one”

“Nahhh...you know what? I don’t believe you” he stubbornly disagreed, as his piercing gaze caught your attention.

“Well...” You muttered, “then I won’t stop you” you smiled.

Looking back at him, you realized you’ve never seen eyes as beautiful as his. And how they held their own against those luscious lips he owned. Thick, inviting and very kissable.

Funny, your thoughts even went that far.

When you went home that night, your stomach ached from laughter, your jaw ached from smiling the entire evening. But your heart didn’t ache, for it was lifted. For you made a friend out of Freddie Jackson.

Your heart continued to remain lifted when the your phone rang frantically the next evening. With its shrill tone, it urged you to answer.

“Hello?”

“Y/N...” that tone echoed in your ear, “Hello babe...”. You squealed in glee.

“Freddieeee...” you cried out, “oh...how are you?” You asked, holding on to the phone “I was just thinking about you...”

“Oh yeah?” He sounded pleasantly surprised.

“Yeah...” your reply was instant “Oh Freddie...I got my old job back!”

“Fuckin’Hell you serious?” He exclaimed. You nodded, “I am ...”. His chuckle through the line made your heart sing.

“Well congratulations babe...”

“Thank you...” your tone grew soft. “Hey..why don’t you come over tomorrow?” You said, leaning on the pantry “I’ll cook ya something” you said, excitement filling your bloodstream.

“You sure I won’t choke to death now?” Freddie asked teasingly. You giggled.

“Very funny ...you won’t cause ...I'm actually quite good”

“Really now?” You involuntarily nodded to his curiosity, “Fuck! My mouth is watering just thinking about it”

Suddenly that tone his, held you by the hand and took you somewhere. Somewhere quite dirty. Suddenly you imagined his eyes washing over you, as if you were the mouthwatering meal.

“Oh um uh...heheheh” you struggled with your response, for you were too busy blushing “...well I’ll see you tomorrow”

The moment you hung up you knew impatience was to rule the day.

Your heart couldn’t stop racing with excitement as you waited for him “tomorrow”. You clearly remembered how you impatiently floated your way towards the door the moment knocks made themselves known.

Although, when you opened the door you were faced with a man who did not look as joyful as you. Instead, there he stood, feeling his own pulse, looking lost.

You swore your heart sank.

“Freddie?” You asked softly, “What’s the matter?”

Wiping his eyes with his fingers, he cleared his throat.

“Nothing babe...I’m fine” he forced himself a grin. You were not entirely convinced. However, you didn’t want to force your way in either. Nevertheless, there he was right in front of you.

Little did he expect you to surprise him by wrapping your arms around him, pulling into an embrace.

“ I am...so glad you’re here...” you breathed into his shoulder, “ ever since I met you I...I feel happier. My life...seems better”

His grip tightened around you.

“Me too, babe”

The shivers you felt running down your spine were indeed real. When you felt him slowly take a whiff of your hair, that heart of yours suddenly remembered to race again. Ready, set, go. There it was.

Pulling away slowly, you looked up shyly to find Freddie’s lips staring at you.Those lips always looked good. But up close, oh! so much better.

“Did anyone ever tell you...” those lips began to form words, “...how fucking good you smell?”

“No...” you whispered, hypnotized. You wanted to kiss him. With all your heart. They were calling out to you.

Before you could inhale, Freddie moved in swiftly, snatching your hopeful lips with his hypnotizing ones. How relieved you were to know he felt the same. As you pulled him in, you knew he’d wholeheartedly agree to the events that will follow.

You were never shy with the idea of lust or the pleasures of the flesh, but that was it. They were interesting, experiential and stimulating; but in the end of the day, you were empty. For love never bothered to get to know you. But that night, when you saw him, when you held him, when he conversed with you through words and touch, you you felt the presence of something you never felt before. You felt love.

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

(The next morning)

When he exited the building, he did it with a swagger full of pride. He certainly welcomed the morning looking refreshed and ready. Wearing a toothy grin, he turned back to find you joining him outside.

Hands were enveloped tightly, and greetings were exchanged inaudibly. All before he held your face lovingly, to plant a kiss that would almost last the entire day. Satisfied, you could not help but utter words of affection to him, when he stared in to your eyes with longing.

With a chuckle, the hands quickly parted, allowing yours to wave back at him as you ran to catch the bus. All the while he stood there, lighting his cigarette, eyes glued to your disappearing figure until he finally left for business.

All this, she watched. And as she did, fidgeting seemed non-existent for a few minutes for she was busy holding her breath. Proceeding to bite her manicured nails, Jackie Jackson could not believe what she witnessed just then.

———————————————————————

PART 2 HERE

Tagged: @starlightmornings @rogerfxckingtaylor

Wanna get TAGGED?

Check my MASTERLIST for more.

#tom hardy #freddie jackson #the take #freddie jackson request #freddie jackson x reader #freddie jackson imagine #freddie x reader #the take imagine #tom hardy imagine #tom hardy fanfiction

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isthisthingeven0n · 6 years

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lies of new york: d.d

this is my christmas piece. I kinda anticipated having time to write a couple, but it’s a busy time of year and it didn’t pan out that way as life happens :) anyway, it’s very angsty and the writing in italics is a flashback. if you celebrate christmas then merry christmas or happy holidays! thank you for all the loving support, and I will open my requests again soon!

masterlist (I remembered, getting better I promise)

Christmas in New York City, everyone would say it’s a dream to experience such a thing, but this year I can’t agree. This year I’ll be spending it alone, something I hadn’t pictured happening, not ever.

Sitting down in Central Park I see all the pictures of my friends heading home for the holidays, they’re all being reunited with their loved ones whilst mine are thousands of miles away. I can’t help but allow myself to feel pitiful, I had a whole plan for this Christmas to be spent with him, but sometimes plans don’t always work out. In this case, they destructively fall apart, piece by piece.

I pull on my coat, tightening it around myself and I sigh deeply watching my cool breath float into the atmosphere. My eyes follow the couples who pass by holding hands through knitted gloves, they’re so happy, so in love.

Tearing my eyes away from it I can picture him now, I’m left picking up the pieces of what is left of us whilst he’s laughing with her, taking off her dress.

His smile remains set in my mind, how joyful he was last Christmas as we sat by the tree exchanging gifts. He was so excited by his wrapping skills which mainly consisted of tape covering the entire gift, but it was an improvement from my birthday, to say the least.

I was nervous to see what he was gifting me, everyone had said I wouldn’t believe it and I couldn’t. I remember seeing the tickets and thinking it was some kind of prank. But when the tears started to flow down my face and his smile only grew I realised it was real. He put his camera away and brought me closer to him as he wrapped his arms around me as I rested into his chest.

A present that I am now experiencing alone. I contemplated not using it, not going to New York knowing it was on his behalf. But since I found out the truth I wanted to be as far away as I could- within reason that is (that I could potentially afford.)

I knew going home wasn’t an option as I thought I’d be spending it with him, my family in the states. I didn’t think about buying a plane ticket home, and by the time it came to it as I FaceTimed my Dad they were too expensive to be an option.

Which led me to be in New York. A city of dreams covered in bright lights and festive spirits. I wonder the streets like a Scrooge whilst everyone else is living in a winter wonderland.

As I wander away from the Park I head back to the hotel where I’m greeted as Ms Dobrik. I used to smile when I was mistaken for something more than his girlfriend, that it could be real someday. But now it makes my heart hurt, the broken pieces that hang together by the smallest bit of tape loosen and fall all over again. At this point I think they understand and merely greet me as Miss, my name being something unknown and not worthy of questioning.

Sitting in the hotel room made for two I remember when I walked in three days ago, greeted by the sight of the rose petals, champagne and chocolates. I began with the first glass of champagne along with a few of the chocolates which soon developed to the glasses being something of the past along with the wrappers laid across the floor.

“Keep your eyes closed, no peeping!” He giggled like a child as he kept my eyes covered with his warm hands, guiding me through the small apartment.

“Just don’t make me hit anything.” I nervously laugh as I take tiny steps forward keeping my arms in front of me waving them from side to side. “What have you done Dave?”

“You’ll see.” He says with such joy, I can tell he’s smiling by the way his hands tighten around my face.

And now here I am, no lights, no tinsel, no music or company. I’m alone in a city that flashes by refusing to stop for anyone.

Closing my eyes I lie down on the soft pillow as I unzip my dress and see it land by the front door, something he would always notice and hang it nicely for me. But now when I see that I see the events of that night.

Her clothes on the floor whilst laughter filled his room. I thought it was Dom, oh I wish that could’ve been true.

I remember when I saw it. Them.

My heart shattered at the sight of my whole world falling apart.

Him with her.

Two people I trusted. Two of my closest friends in bed together. There was no shame, no remorse from her, but he knew it. It was like he was in a trance. The sight of me with teary eyes snapped him out of it.

He ran towards me, he tried to explain how it happened, that he was sorry. But all I did was leave a bruise on his face and scuffs on my knuckles. I didn’t hear him out, I never did.

And now I’m left wondering if she’s with him now whilst I am living someone else’s life.

David:

Standing I watch as the screens change, lights illuminate every passing face in a mere blur.

I can’t help but feel my eyes linger on all of them, secretly hoping she’d be one of them. That we could exchange glances like school children and talk about it later.

But I ruined that. I ruined the sweet innocence of what we once had with a single mistake.

I can still picture her face. She was so upset, but she was holding it back as best as she could. She tried to listen to my rambles as they fell out of my mouth. I didn’t even know what I was saying that night, I just knew I had to explain something somehow. And that despite my actions I truly loved her.

Love her.

New York at Christmas, it was supposed to be magical for the both of us. We would have gone sightseeing and experienced the snow together. I would’ve watched as she admired all the expensive jewellery that reflects the glimmer in her eyes. I would’ve waited until she had gone back to the hotel to pick out that perfect ring she would’ve loved.

But none of that happened.

Instead I’m in New York alone whilst she is enjoying the city with someone else.

She left me to pick up the mess whilst she is laying on someone else’s chest admiring the city at night. She is with him now, holding his hand as they walk through Central Park. They’re out doing everything I wanted us to do together.

She’ll laugh at his shit jokes whilst he squeezes her hand a little bit tighter. He will help her ice skate as she is terrified of falling over and she will love every minute of it.

He’ll treat her the way she deserves to be, something I guess I never could fulfil.

She was so excited as I let my hands go from her eyes. I quickly turned to face her to see the full reaction, but she was stunned.

“Well?” I nervously asked with a grin on my face as I stood to one side, allowing her to see it for the full view.

Y/n took a step closer, admiring the tree as the snow began to fall from the machine and sprinkled us both.

Her face lit up with glee. That smile grew wider as she giggled and twirled in the fake snow. “Dave, I, I mean, how, what?” She motions to the fake snow that now covers us both.

“I have my connections, and I know how much you love snow.” I say as I pull her closer into me, my hands resting on her waist as her head rests against my chest. “Merry Christmas, Y/n.”

Those memories were something of the past, ones I know we’ll never experience again. Not in the way it was.

I sigh as I continue to walk on, heading down past Times Square back to the hotel where I had to book a new room in a different hotel after she had taken the one I booked for us both. She would be with him in there now, dancing in her underwear with a glass in her hand.

Whilst I would return back to the empty room, disgard my clothes on the floor and order more room service for one.

“Watch it,” I hear a voice murmur as they shove past me forcefully, and I stop turning to see them.

I secretly hoped it was her, but it wasn’t. It was a businessman who rushed off, jaywalking in the process as taxis honked in anger at him. “Dick.” I mutter before turning around to head back to my hotel.

As I turn another force hits me, nearly sending me flying backwards.

But I don’t fall, an arm holds onto me, and a sweet voice fills my ears. “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going.” I struggled to comprehend it. I wanted to keep my head low, the sound of her voice in person was making my heart desperately scramble for the broken pieces and force them together whilst she was in front of me.

“It’s alright, my fault.” I keep my head low, focusing on her scuffed boots. The same ones she always wore in Winter. “I’m sorry.” I lower my tone in an attempt to disguise my voice.

“Oh, it was me, not you.” She remarks, but she doesn’t understand.

I never got to truly apologise to her for it, for being a dick, for cheating and breaking her heart. This was my chance to say it and mean it, even if she will never know.

“Anyway, Merry Christmas.” I pull on my hood, bringing it further down across my head as I pass her.

“And to you!” She joyfully responds, and then she is gone.

I turn around and see her walk off with a cup in her hand as she picks up the pace and calls for a taxi.

Leaning against a lamp post I can’t help but watch her, the way her smile turns to a tired frown as she looks around at the city.

Until she sees me.

Her eyes lock with mine, the billboard lights illuminate her face and mine. There’s no way of mistaking either of us, we both know each other.

The taxi pulls up alongside her, and without her expression changing she turns her head and climbs inside leaving my face bright as the tears fall down my cheeks as the adverts change and the Christmas music blares.

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were-dragon · 6 years

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Day 4 prompt: Game night

I couldn't decide on what could be something the team could play together, like what would suit all of them, and it wrecked my brain a little. So I went with it. If I cannot come up with something, how difficult it can be for them to pick a game?

So that's it, that's the recipe: a bunch of agents, mandatory game night, add a pair of junkers, and a pinch of horny McCree - stir vigorously. Bon appetit!

Words: 1+ k

Rating: M

Pairing: Jesse McCree/Hanzo Shimada

Tags: Attempt at Humor, maybe even crack, just don't take this seriously okay guys?, this is so far from serious it never even heard about it, Team as Family, Team Bonding, I have officially given up and let the story be what it wants to be, craziness,

The tension around the table was palpable. Silence reigned as they all stared at each other with different levels of desperation.

“This is ridiculous,” Soldier huffed out, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back into the chair.

“I am not playing darts against Hanzo again!” Genji exclaimed adamantly, holding the aforementioned darts out of everyone’s reach.

“Well, what about poker?” Soldier tried but McCree snorted.

“Winston counts cards.”

The gorilla scientist’s shoulders slumped. “Not on purpose. I don’t know how not to.”

Lena patted his shoulder in a consoling gesture. “It’s okay, big guy. No one is blaming you,” she tutted and glared at McCree, who raised his hands in defense.

“Not blaming him, just sayin’.”

“Well, what about Monopol-”

“No!” Fareeha interrupted Angella before she could finish, glancing sideways to her mother who paused in raising her cup of tea to her lips, a maniacal glint in the one remaining eye. “Not- not that. Just no.”

There was a grunt of agreement from Soldier.

“Then what about Mario Cart?” Hana tried but Hanzo scoffed.

“You know McCree is no good at video games. It stresses him out and then he smokes. We do not want a repeat of last time.”

McCree raised his hands in exasperation. “I said I was sorry! Who set the sprinklers to be so sensitive anyways?!”

The unimpressed glares made him cross his arms with a petulant frown.

“Uno?” Mei peeped out.

“Winston,” was the answer from several agents at once.

“Let us leave out the cards completely,” Zenyatta suggested mildly as Lena’s consoling petting intensified.

Hana put her forehead on the table. “This is the worst!”

“I think we should play bowling!” Reinhardt exclaimed from the next to the Soldier who flinched at the volume. Everyone turned to him.

“How?” Lucio asked, confused.

“Sorry to break it to ya but we don’t have a bowling alley.” McCree drawled, already done with sulking, balancing his chair on the two back legs instead.

“Yeah, and you threw the Wii controller through the wall during that last tennis match,” Hana added in a sour tone. Reinhardt deflated. “Oh.”

McCree raised his hand as an idea struck him.

“We are not playing Never have I ever, Jesse,” Angela stopped him before he even managed to open his mouth. The plain disappointment in that scruffy face told everyone she was right on the money.

“Yer no fun.”

Hanzo rolled is eyes and Genji snickered. “You just want to get plastered.”

“‘S wrong with that? We’ve been sitting here for a better part of an hour and haven’t come up with a single game everyone can play. Not exactly fun game night if ya ask me.”

“We are not canceling the game night,” Soldier growled, putting his hands on the table; ever so set on team bonding activities.

“Not suggesting we-”

Sudden rumble followed shortly by a trickle of dust falling from the ceiling, and a bang as McCree’s chair tipped back and he crashed to the floor made everyone stop; Hanzo the only one even attempting to help McCree back up.

“The hell was that?”

“...where is Jamison?” Mei asked slowly, her hand pausing in stress-petting Snowball.

The mad scramble as everyone tried to be the first out of the door was not as unusual as one would think since the two junkers joined them.

“Those better not be my babies!” Torbjorn yelled as another boom reached their ears, now mixed with a screech of metal.

They got to the exit just as a wild voice called: “Fire in the hole!” Making everyone backpedal at once, covering behind the wall as another much louder explosion rocked the Watchpoint.

“I’m going to kill him,” Soldier growled, pushing out the moment the dust settled.

Zarya whistled when they got to the now wide open space where an outcrop of rocks and a small shed used to be. The junkers were both there, Junkrat hoping from foot to foot in excitement while Roadhog was throwing some debris out of the way.

“What have you done?” Angela asked in horror.

Jamison turned to her, beaming. “Made us lil som’n!”

“Wasn’t there a shed before?” Satya asked, taking in the newly created space. “Over there, I believe.” She pointed to the far right.

A distressed sound came from behind Torbjorn where Brigitta was standing, pale as a ghost.

“‘S gone now,” Jamison grinned, clearly self-satisfied.

“I can’t remember what was in it,” Winston said, mentally inventorying before giving into any panic.

“Just some junk. Blew it up,” the scrawny junker waved his hand dismissively. Brigitta whimpered.

“All my spare parts? Gone?”

“‘S that what it was?”

McCree leaned close to Hanzo. “Just so we are clear. We could’ve been having sex right now.”

Hanzo shot him a look but he wasn’t fooling anyone. McCree could tell the archer regretted the decision to join in for the game night. But Genji was so insistent!

“Let’s make a run for it.” McCree wheedled.

“Jesse!” Hanzo hissed at him but the cowboy only grinned at him.

“C’mon, darlin’, I’ll blow you in the shower.”

That did make Hanzo hesitate. The offer sounded imminently more pleasurable than anything that could happen here.

“Eww! Stop it, McCree, I can hear you!” Genji whined from behind them, making Hanzo stiffen and McCree chuckle.

“Sorry about that, Genji, but no can do. Yer brother’s dick is just too damn tempting.”

“By the gods!” Genji threw his hands up, immediately attracting all the attention to the three of them; Genji cursing, McCree laughing, and Hanzo covering his reddening face in his hands.

There was a moment before Soldier wisely said “I refuse to ask,” and turned back to Junkrat. “Why would you-” he paused, looking for some words that could adequately describe what was happening, then gave up. “Why?”

“Cricket!”

“What?” Lucio asked, as perplexed as most of the others.

“There wasn’t anywhere to play. So we made space! ‘S game night, right?”

This time the silence was much longer. And the subsequent choir of groans much louder.

“Jamison, we do not have equipment for cricket.” Angela imparted the devastating truth to the man, whose face turned from glee to horror in an exceptionally overdone way.

“But- How can ya not have it?” He turned to the other junker pleadingly. “Roadie?”

The big man patted his back in a consoling gesture, Junkrat swayed under the force of it a bit.

“A blowjob and I’ll ride you like a bronco after. Final offer,” McCree murmured, making Genji squeak in indignation.

Hanzo was proud of his strong will and his determination to never be swayed by bribes or coercion. But even Shimada heirs had their limits. He grabbed McCree’s hand, turning on his heels he dragged the cowboy back inside, ignoring Soldier’s yelling following them in mixed with Genji’s pleading to just let them go for the love of all that is holy.

A few hours later when the cowboy was laying half across Hanzo’s chest, still breathing hard but already on his way to blissful unconscious, Hanzo knew he would never again choose game night over a night in.

He didn’t know how to play cricket anyway.

#mchanzo #my fics #peapodmchanzoweek #jesse mccree #hanzo shimada #overwatch ensemble #one shot #day 4

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faces-in-unexpected-places · 5 years

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Do You Have the Time? Episode 011: Thank You

[October 13th, 2007, 19:45]

Leslie and Leopold sat in their seats in the auditorium back at CVU for the award ceremony. No matter what, she couldn’t get the smile imprinted on her face to soften. The prospect of going to college with the only stipulation being just another perk for her made her giddy. She glimpsed at Leopold who sat next to her, watching the ceremony. He could feel her beaming at him and he chuckled at her intensity. She sure would make an interesting, new lab partner. Or, lab subordinate. He looked forward to having her work with him. Blue light emitted from Leslie’s phone. She looked down to see two new messages.

19:21 Max: Where are you?

19:45 Mom: Parking now.

Leslie pursed her lips together and flipped her phone shut again. The host of the award ceremony on the stage announced that they were moving on to her category. All students were required to select a category when they submitted their names for consideration of the scholarship. Leslie chose arts and sciences. The list of the three winners of the scholarship was brought out to the host and he began reading the names off. Third place was taken by someone that Leslie was completely unfamiliar with. Upon his name being called, he rose from his seat and jogged down the middle aisle of the auditorium. He climbed the stairs at the side of the stage and accepted his bronze-decorated certificate to take to the bursar’s office and cash the scholarship money. The host kept the student on the stage while they called the next name.

“The second place winner for the arts and sciences informational presentation ‘The Importance of Research and Funding’… Leslie Goodchild, awarded two-thousand and five-hundred dollars!” the host yelled with enthusiasm.

Leslie’s heart fluttered; she could not believe it. It was almost as if too many wonderful things were happening. Her jaw dropped with an enormous smile at Leopold. He laughed and motioned to the middle aisle.

“Don’t look at me, kid, go get your prize!”

Leslie stood up and adjusted her shirt and hobbled past Leopold and to the aisle. Getting to the stage was all a blur. She awkwardly trotted to it and climbed up the ledge, rather than taking the stairs. The fastest route. The host holding the microphone jumped with surprise when he noticed Leslie scaling the side of the stage like a rock climber. Leopold involuntarily grimaced and pulled at the collar of his shirt, as he watched Leslie’s graceful display.

“Whoa there!” he chuckled with the microphone far from his face. The volume was low, but it reached the audience. Snickers erupted from the rows of seats. Leslie stiffly extended her arm out for a handshake, further catching the host off guard. She began to blush and sweat. The host quickly shook her hand and positioned her next to the third place winner. He slipped her the silver certificate and she beamed out at the blinding lights pointed at the stage. She didn’t even pay attention to the first place winner. The only thing Leslie was thinking about was her lifted spirit. The host ushered the three of them off the stage after they bowed in unison. They all snuck down the staircase off to the side before the host mentioned the next category.

“Let’s make sure Ms. Goodchild makes it back to her seat safely,” he joked. The auditorium filled with laughter as Leslie sheepishly scurried back to her seat next to Leopold. He turned his legs to the side, so she could slip past him and into her seat with ease. She dropped into her seat and turned to him.

“I made kind of a spectacle, huh? Everyone’s laughing.”

“Eh, well, you’re twenty-five hundred dollars richer than all of them now, so I think you’ve got more to laugh about,” he winked.

Leslie smiled at him with excitement. Without speaking a word, she glommed onto Leopold with glee and gratitude. He grunted from the force of her hug and chuckled. His only free arm wrapped around her and gave her a friendly squeeze.

“What’s this all about?” he questioned. She released him and sat back, still looking at him.

“I’m just very excited to come here next fall and work for you. I—if I get accepted, I mean,” she stuttered.

Leopold ignored her qualifier.

“Oh, please, you’ll get accepted. We’re going to be researchers now, okay? That means thinking of experiments together—”

“Yes.”

“—and writing papers about our findings—”

“Yes,” she said, emphatically.

“—coming in everyday to keep the projects moving—”

“Yes! I can do it, sir!” she beamed and shook.

“—and things might get tough, but we can’t let that get in the way—”

“Yes, yes, yes! Ohh, I can’t wait!” she squealed in her seat.

“Leslie,” said a sharp and severe voice.

Her smile was wiped off her face as she peered past Leopold to see her mother standing in the aisle, glaring at her. Leslie shrunk in her seat and glanced around, fearfully. Her mother strictly motioned for her to come out of her row and follow her out of the auditorium. Leopold remained quiet, deciding not to get involved. Leslie clutched her certificate, and walked out behind her mother into the hallway. They were about 5 metres from the entrance and stood equidistant to the bathrooms in the other direction of the auditorium.

“I don’t even know where to begin with you!” her mother spat.

“What— what did I do?” Leslie sputtered, “Where’s dad?”

“Your father is still at work,” she said with disdain, “We were supposed to come together but he had to go back. Do you know why?”

“Umm… n—no? Why?”

“We got home within minutes of each other. About to get ready to come here, and as soon as we walked inside, the ceiling was dripping like crazy.”

“Wh—what?” Leslie asked.

“The water heater in our attic had been gushing water out the bottom for twenty minutes, Leslie.”

Leslie frowned and tilted her head, unaware of what the water heater had to do with her.

“I asked you at the beginning of the month to do a general maintenance check for us. Do you remember?”

“I— uh, I—I— think so. I just—”

“I told you to check the gutters. To check the garbage disposal and the fire extinguisher, smoke detectors, deep clean the house, and what was the last thing I asked you?”

“To check the water heater?”

“To check the water heater,” her mother scolded, “Christ, Leslie, you only have to do that one twice a year. We don’t ask much of you. It’s not that hard. Just see if there’s a leak. And if there is, call someone to come fix it. You have my card information, I was prepared to handle the cost. All you had to do was go up there and look,” she rebuked.

“I’m sorry, mom, I—” Leslie squeaked with submission.

“Oh, I know you’re sorry,” she said, sardonically.

“Is… is everything okay?”

Her mother scoffed.

“I don’t know. How would I know? Your father ran upstairs and stopped the leak. We had to shut the water and electric off, and call a plumber. We might have water damage and have to replace the water heater. Do you have any idea how much that’s going to cost?”

“No,” Leslie peeped.

Leopold cautiously stepped out of the auditorium to check on Leslie.

“Well, you’re just lucky we caught it when we did,” her mother continued, “Otherwise, I wouldn’t know what we would do. Your dad just went right back to work. Decided to pick up an extra shift just to anticipate how much we’re going to have to shell out over this. I left the plumber there to come see you, but told him that I’d be back to figure out our options before he leaves, so. That’s how my day was,” she said, wryly, “How did your presentation go?” she asked with contempt.

Leslie wore an expressionless, distant face and held up her second place certificate with her lips locked. Her mother’s demeanour became softer for a moment when she realised that she’d rained on her daughter’s celebration. Still, her detached affect returned shortly.

“Well. At least that worked out. You worked hard for it. Good job.”

The compliment felt insincere to Leslie. Almost obligatory and reluctant. Leslie nodded with feigned gratitude and a trembling lip. Leopold crept up to them and rested his hand on her shoulder. Leslie could feel her entire body become as light as a feather, then nothing. As if she was no longer attached to her body. She couldn’t speak. Leopold wore a pretend smile and extended his other hand to her mother. He held Leslie securely under his grasp.

“Hi there, I’m Dr. Leopold Looney. I met your daughter today after I listened to her presentation. She is extremely talented and driven. You should be very proud.”

Her mother gave him a shifty gaze, wondering if he was complimenting her or criticising her. She shook his hand, firmly.

“Alma Goodchild. I was hoping to speak to my daughter alone, Dr. Looney.”

“Of course,” he took a step back, “I’ll just be near the auditorium, Leslie. You can come find me when you guys are done, or if you need anything.”

Leslie gently nodded, while looking down at her feet.

“We will discuss this more later when we get home,” Alma declared, “If you want to stay for the rest of the ceremony, you can. I’m going to go wait in the car.”

She took a step back and, before turning around and heading towards the building’s exit, she left Leslie with one last thought.

“You know, water heaters can explode from the pressure build-up. They leak to release that pressure, so that doesn’t happen. But it can still happen. And it could have destroyed the house if the pressure was high enough. If you were there, it could have seriously hurt you. Just think about that next time.”

Alma stomped away and out into the parking lot. Leslie glanced around with a permanent frown cemented to her face. She met eyes with Leopold who was leaned against the wall next to the double doors of the auditorium. He began to push himself off the wall to approach her, and Leslie realised she couldn’t talk to anybody in that moment. She twirled around and scrambled for the women’s restroom. Leopold jolted and pursued her, but she was more agile.

“Leslie, wait!”

He reached out as he ran, but she slammed the door before he could even reach it. He groaned and sighed in frustration at himself.

“Damn these old man reflexes,” he mumbled to himself.

Leslie stood on the other side of the door with her back pressed against it. Her face was flushed and hot, her forehead pounding, bottom lip shaking, neck and shoulders tensed. It was beyond her control. Her frown opened up. Heavy sobs escaped from her breath, and tears poured down her face from her harshly shut eyes. She shrunk down to the floor, held her knees to her chest and cried into them. Her second place certificate remained clutched in one of her hands, getting wrinkled. One of the corners poked between her abdomen and her knees, and began to dampen.

Leopold sighed and leaned against the other side of the women’s restroom door with his arms crossed. Students and their parents walking past in both directions flashed him confused and strange looks. He gave them all half-waves and half-smiles.

“Hi, how’re you?” he said openly to anyone passing him, “Lovely ceremony so far, huh?”

Nobody responded to him.

He exhaled in uncertainty.

Leslie’s phone buzzed again from her pocket. She retrieved it and opened it up. More messages from Max. She must not have noticed them while she was being awarded and talking to her mother. She caught herself up on the messages and began responding to them.

19:50 Max: Haha, you’re supposed to take the stairs, weirdo. 19:50 Max: I wanted to sit with you during the ceremony, but I couldn’t find you. 19:53 Max: Hey, how come you didn’t come see my presentation? You said you would try. 19:53 Max: I thought you would at least let me know if you weren’t going to make it. 19:54 Max: Actually, when you get off stage and go back to your seat, I’ll meet you, and we can talk in person, okay? 20:04 Max: Did you leave?

20:08 Leslie: Sorry I didn’t come see your presentation. I was talking to a professor here about his research.

20:08 Max: Oh, there you are. You were talking to him for the whole 8 hours?

20:08 Leslie: Well, no. 20:08 Leslie: But I had to present, too.

20:09 Max: Yeah, but I asked if you would have lunch with me, too.

20:10 Leslie: I said maybe because my parents were supposed to come see me.

20:10 Max: But they didn’t so, we could have had lunch together, right?

20:12 Leslie: I guess so. But I was eating with the professor.

20:12 Max: So you did you spend the whole day with him?

20:14 Leslie: No.

20:14 Max: After that, you just presented the whole time?

20:15 Leslie: He took me to his lab to show me where he works.

20:15 Max: He did?

20:15 Leslie: Yes.

20:15 Max: Sounds like you spent the whole day together.

20:18 Leslie: Are you mad at me?

20:19 Max: I just don’t understand why you would give all your time to him when I specifically asked you to come see me and eat with me and sit with me at the ceremony.

20:20 Leslie: I want to go here, and he’s a professor who was interested in my project. I thought it was a good idea.

20:21 Max: I mean, it was. You can talk to other people and everything. But I thought we were going to spend time together and you didn’t even ask me if you could do that stuff instead.

20:21 Leslie: Would you have been okay with it if I did?

20:23 Max: I don’t know. 20:25 Max: Where are you? Can we talk about this in person? 20:31 Max: Hello?

Leslie shut her phone and put it back in her pocket. She took a deep breath and rested her head on her knee. At some point during her conversation, she ran out of tears. There were no thoughts in her head for a good five minutes. She felt exhausted. Like a drain protruded from her heart and people were lined up, siphoning off parts of her. But gradually, she felt just a few drops of life returned to her. She picked her head up off her knee and listened.

“—and you are such a driven student. It seems like you have a lot to worry about, so if you aren’t able to come in to my lab everyday, that’s okay. I’m not even in my lab everyday, if I’m being honest. I still need your help if I’m going to cover your tuition, but it shouldn’t be a stressor that ruins your college experience, either. Wh— what’s that?” he mumbled to somebody else, “No, I’m not trapping someone in the restroom, I’m trying to get her out!”

Leslie giggled and sniffed. She dried her face and stood up.

“Anyway, Leslie, we’re going to figure this out. Together! I always want all of my students to feel comfortable in my classroom, in my office, and in my lab. Since you will likely be in all three of those at one point or another, that goes triple for you! I can see brilliance, and you have it. You just need to be given the resources to use it… my, uh… my wife, she used to always tell me to do exactly what I wanted, no matter how far-fetched it seemed. I think she could see that I was the dreamer out of the two of us, and she wanted me to embrace that as much as I could,” he chuckled, “And, now I’m in a position to help you embrace your dreams… at least I think they’re your dreams. Uh, you can correct me if I’m wrong,” he nervously laughed and cleared his throat, “Hi, please enjoy the ceremony,” he spoke to the passing families, “ Anyway, Leslie, the point is… I still think you should come work for me. And, I don’t see any reason why your mom would be against it, despite the… strong feelings she seemed to express a half an hour ago. If you have any… personal problems when you work for me, then we can always sit down and… we’ll work something out for you, if you want. Okay?”

Leslie meekly opened the door. Leopold jumped back in surprise, and gave her some space. They stepped out of the way of the doors and she leaned against the wall. Her face was relaxed but fatigued. She still appeared red in the face and around the eyes.

“Your wife doesn’t encourage you to do that stuff anymore?”

“Oh, err,” Leo startled, “I— uh, she— has been gone for… a few years, now.”

“Oh…” she trailed off, “She sounded like a very lovely woman.”

“Yeah… thank you— Leslie. She really was.”

“Do you want to talk about it? Can I help you?” Leslie asked. Leopold chuckled, wryly.

“Maybe another time, kiddo. I think you might need some rest first.”

She nodded and, after contemplation, opened her messages with Max to show to Leopold.

“So, your mom and your boyfriend have problems with you, huh?”

She scoffed.

“Max isn’t my boyfriend.”

“He’s not?”

“No!”

Leopold furrowed his brow and glanced over the messages again.

“Well… whatever he is… just be careful. Don’t let him tell you what to do.”

“Do you think I did something wrong?” she frowned. Leo sighed and pursed his lips.

“You know, poppet… why don’t we go it down to talk about this, alright?”

“…Poppet?” she asked, bewildered.

“Oh, it’s just an old man way of calling you kid,”

“Poppet… you and that woman…” she paused and thought, “Martha! You two sure do like terms of endearment.”

Leo shrugged.

“I guess it rubbed off on me! Maybe it will for you, too,” he chucked, “So… want to get some space from here?”

Leslie hesitated, took a deep breath and followed Leopold further away from the auditorium. They sat down together on the other side of the room of the box office where there was little noise. The wall behind them was mostly glass, and it peered out to the parking lot. They could see Leslie’s mom in her car from where they say. Leslie fidgeted in her seat and kept glancing outside.

“Maybe we shouldn’t talk for very long…” she mumbled.

“As long as your comfortable with. Or, we don’t have to at all. You can have my phone number and email address if you want to get in touch later. I guess you’ll need it anyway, if you’re coming to work for me,” he chuckled, “But you can always come back to the university to meet me and talk before you start work, too.”

She nodded vigorously, trying to internalise everything the best that she could. Leopold remained silent, and waited for her to initiate the discussion.

“I think Max is easier to talk about right now. Is it okay if I only talk about that?” she questioned.

He hummed in approval. She paused.

“…Dr. Looney?” she asked. He smiled faintly at her. “Thank you for being so nice to me today.”

#do you have the time?#episode 011 #leslie #leopold #max #alma #science fiction #writers on tumblr #writing #hellooooo from the past!#one week exactly lmao #hope you like this one too!#this is the last flashback episode for a while!#then we're ALL PRESENT DAY BABEYYYY #for a while anyway

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yoootommo · 6 years

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1800s AU - Part 3

Welcome to part 3 of this 1800s Harry Styles saga!

If you missed part one or part two, click whichever word to read it!

Enjoy!

~////~

I curled into bed a little later that night and watched him follow me. The space between us in bed didn't seem so far anymore, but perhaps that was just because the bed was smaller. Yes, I'm sure that was it.

My eyes drifted over his back, which was toward me as always. Why was he always so determined on facing away from me? Was I that ugly of a sleeper? ...Was I that ugly of a woman that he wouldn't even try to fall in love with me? I mean, it would be easy, right? Just to fall in love with the person you kissed almost daily around the presense of others? I mean it certainly wasn't hard because... My breath caught in my throat as I tried to stuff the thought back into the depths of my brain.

Don't say anything, Y/N, do not say anything.

"Harry...?" I whispered, barely audible. Oh God in Heaven, here we go.

"Hmm?" He replied.

"Why..." my voice broke away.

"Go on," he urged.

"Why haven't you... err, slept with me?" I squeaked. He froze. Then, slowly, he turned on his side so he could look at me. He watched me closely for a moment or two. "To make an heir," I added quickly.

"I know," he said and I gulped. His eyes flickered to my lips and then trailed down my figure. I felt as though my ribs were caving in on me. "I'm in no rush," he decided finally.

"No... rush?" I echoed lamely. He shrugged.

"When the time for an heir comes, it will come," he explained.

"But..." I couldn't help but blurt.

"But?" He pressed.

"Every royal has to... make an heir as soon as possible."

"Afraid I'll die, madam?" he whispered, his lips twitching into a smile.

"No, I--"

"You're not ready. The time will come," he repeated and flipped onto his other side. I stared at his back in shock. He cared whether or not I was ready? Then my stomach sank lower. There really will be a time when we're needed to make an heir.

Oh, God.

~.~

I don't remember waking up, honestly. I vaguely remember wandering around that magnificent house. My fingers grazed the fine wooden railing as I bumped down the steps. American wood. I was really in America.

I dawdled over to the window at the end of the grand hall and sat at the plush chair next to it. I peered outside at the chilling, dark sky and wondered what had stirred me awake at such an odd hour.

"I was just saving myself," came a voice quietly behind me. I bounced nearly ten feet high as I turned to see the intruder. I recognized his voice before my eyes even had the time to adjust to his silhouette in the dark. The dim light of the moon allowed me to see him settle down in the chair across from me.

"Harry?" I peeped.

"It was me who was nowhere near ready to have a child," he admitted with a laugh.

"Well that's very honest of you," I replied with a soft smile. "Anyway, it's not like you'd have to raise it. You're a king to be!"

He eyebrows shot up. "What's that supposed to mean?" he bellowed in a light tone.

"I mean kings usually leave the whole," I waved my hand in the air. "raising the kid thing to the mother, or even a nanny."

"That's a load of bollocks," he protested.

"Harry!" I smacked him on the arm. "Watch your language!"

"It's true! That child will have the most present father and king there ever was."

I scoffed. "Well good luck with that. There's a reason kings don't spend time with their children." I grabbed my coat I was prepared to bring outside for my night walk and got up to leave. I was growing uncomfortable from the reality we would have to face. Christ, I would be lucky to see my child for anything but supper on a slow day.

Harry was up and after me in a moment, taking my arm in his hand.

"These children will be everything."

"And they'll be mine. But we have duties to fulfill," I shrugged my bundled coat farther onto my arm and began to walk away.

"Would you like to find out how good of a father I'd be?" he challenged from behind me. I ignored him as well as the knot of endearmeant lacing into my stomach, and continued towards the front door. "We can start having those kids right now!" Before I knew it, he tossed an arm around my waist. I yelped in glee as he lifted me off of the ground. My coat leapt to the ground, taking my heart with it.

"Harry!" I barked, swinging my feet. "Let me down! Let me down!" But I was laughing cheerily.

He giggled and obeyed me. Gently, my feet found the hardwood floor and I twirled around to him. On the surface, I exuded anger for the sake of being a well mannered lady. But it was no use, I was grinning like a buffoon.

"Harold Edward Styles!" I whispered furiously.

"Mm?" he hummed.

"You..." I began but my voice failed me as he coiled an arm around my back and drew me closer.

"Go on," he said, his voice dangerously low. His breath stretched across my lips when he spoke and it sent a sinking feeling shooting down my chest to wake the butterflies in my stomach.

"You better..." What on God's Green Earth could I say? I gulped. "You better kiss me right now."

"What?" He hadn't expected it. Well, neither had I. I also hadn't predicted that I would next peep up onto my toes and kiss him.

He was stone shocked at first, but I pressed my lips farther onto his and he melted against my touch. His lean arms tightened around me and brought me closer. I couldn't help but sigh through my nose in heavenly bliss.

His lips parted and closed again and again until my lips hurt. His arms loosened slighlty and his hands curled around my waist. They lowered to my hips, and he clutched me as if I were to dissolve in front of him at any second.

His thumbs twirled and traced my hip bones, sending my stomach flipping. What lustful demon has possessed me? What did I think I was doing? This public display was not fit for a lady, much less a queen to be. But in that moment, I didn't care. All that mattered was him. I wanted him. And I wanted more.

I tangled my fingers in his soft brown curls. How far would this go? Could we really, honestly make an heir to the throne right at this very moment? I didn't doubt it.

That was, until we heard a couple floorboards creak. I gasped and tugged away in a heartbeat. I was straightening my night gown frantically, refusing to meet the eyes of whatever person had entered.

"I'm so sorry!" rushed a timid voice. I dared a glance up at the servant before us. I dissolved in embarrassment. How improper of us! What were we thinking? I mean two royals, liplocked in the open house for all to see. On top of that, our first, real kiss and in a foreign country where we were guests?

"M-my mouth is shut, your hignesses!" the petite girl blubbered and went scrambling away.

Harry and I stood there for quite some time, deadly silent. "I'm sorry, I don't know why--" I started but Harry gently placed his hand on my back.

"Don't be sorry."

My breath hitched and my eyes flickered back and forth between his. I found myself leaning forward again, much against my will. Our lips almost met again.

That was when I woke up in a panic. I gripped around in the dark blindly, skimming the sheets and then running into something hard. Realizing it was Harry’s back, my hand snapped away.

I swallowed hard. A dream. It was all a dream...

But what did it mean? Did I really like Harry as much as my dream self thought? I mean I couldn’t have dreamt that for nothing.

Not wanting to repeat my dream in fear of what would happen afterwards, I decided against getting up and instead flopping back down.

I waited in the dark for what seemed like eternity but I must have fallen back asleep because I woke to Harry attempting to open and close our bedroom door quietly. He failed miserably but it was a sweet attempt.

I lay in bed some more until I came to the conclusion that there was no way I could face Harry anytime soon before I figured out my feelings and he figured out his. When duty called me out of bed, I remained as distant as possible.

That night I tried to make sure to go to bed before he did but he was too close behind me. Before I could even get into my pajamas, he entered the room. I turned to keep my back to him.

“I feel like I haven’t seen you all day,” he said, probably shrugging off his blazer.

“Past the greetings already, are we?” I mumbled anxiously. “Guess we really are a married couple.”

“Sorry?”

“Nothing, nothing,” I waved him off, walking over to my dresser, opening a drawer and simply staring for longer than normal.

There was a pause before he continued. “So I got a word to the director of the trip about our charity event,” Harry noted as he undid the buttons on his sleeves. When I didn’t respond, he added, “he said we can certainly put an event on while we’re here in America. We just have to decide what we want to do. He gave me a list of...“ he cut himself short when he saw the dull look in my eyes when I turned to kick off my shoes. “Somewhere far off, Love?” he asked. I shrugged.

“Hey.” Suddenly he was behind me and grabbing my hand. I swiveled around. “What’s wrong?”

What could I say? ‘I had a dream about us and I kissed you and I would do anything to do it again now but you don’t seem to be interested in a real romantic relationship.’

He tucked a finger under my chin and forced me to look at him. “You can tell my anything,” he murmured and a smile slipped across his face. “After all, I’m your husband.”

It was like the dream all over again. I felt every brain cell tell my body to stay still, or even step back, but my head moved forward a touch. It was small, but he took the cue. His hand drew from under my chin to cup my cheek.

When his head dipped down to kiss me, I felt myself freeze. He felt me go frigid and paused, just mililiters from my lips.

"Nothing new, right?" he assured me.

I froze, feeling my heart drop like a bowling ball into my stomach. How did he know about my dream? "W-what?" I stammered.

He laughed softly. "We've kissed before...? In public...? For the whole world to see...?"

"Oh, right," I exhaled tensely.

"This one's different," he added, easing the tension slightly.

I raised an eyebrow. "How so?"

"Because I've finally realized what my true feelings are."

"And those are...?" I pressed, a playful smirk crossing my face.

Without another word, he closed the distance between us and kissed me. Not even a dream could truly prepare me for what I felt. And he didn't physically have to whisk me off of my feet because I already felt like I was in the air.

His touch and his taste were real this time and I soaked in every second. When he finally let up for air, I considered turning around to check if my lips were blue, but all I could do was watch his face for a reaction.

"Now do you know what my true feelings are?" he asked.

"Hmmm..." I tapped a finger on my chin. "I don't know, can you help me figure it out some more?"

He laughed heartily and slipped his arms behind my back. "Gladly."

~////~

Author's Note:

Ta daaaaaa! I'm sorry, this was a long time in the making. Life is whooping my ass right now, I've had like five mental breakdowns in between these parts, but what's a good author without some tragic back story, am I right?

Sorry that was darker than I had anticipated. But I hope the DOUBLE (almost triple) kisses still have you fluttering. Even though one was a dream, it still got steamy ;)

I seriously love you all soo sooooo much. I know some of you have been wanting this part 3 so I had to oblidge.

Hope you enjoyed! Have a lovely day/night wherever you are, Lovelies xx

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bittysvalentines · 7 years

Text

The Butter Bandit

To: @peeps-the-writer

From: @airplanesandcookies

Happy Valentine’s Day! I hope you enjoy this little zimbits meet-cute fic! I really had a blast writing it for you.

_/\_

Any other time, Jack would appreciate the privacy and serenity that came from a thick falling curtain of rain. But at this moment, he’s exhausted and merely resigned to getting soaked on the run from his car to the grocery store entrance.

He took a moment to savor the warmth of his car’s heated seats as the rain, muted, battered at the roof. The day had been brutally long - a PT session at 9am, then practice, team lunch, a few brief moments at home to nap, before heading back to the rink for a tough home game against the Schooners. Even after all that, he still had to field invasive interviews post game, cycling to get the acid out his muscles and cool down, another massage, only to get home and realize that he had no eggs or even milk for a bowl or three of cereal. He could have ordered a grocery or dinner delivery, but that would have taken so much longer than him just doing it himself.

Jack rolled his neck, pulled his snapback down over his brow, unlocked his door and promised himself that a plate of scrambled eggs was worth all of this when his passenger door swung open and a very wet man hopped into the passenger seat.

“Shitty, you are a lifesaver! I would never have made it all the way home in this. I can’t swim that far!”

The thing about being a professional hockey player, it is Jack’s job to recover faster than the other guy, which is what probably saves Jack from an early heart attack and gives him space to recognize that the drenched intruder is 1) unfairly attractive even with his blond hair plastered over his face and a thin linen button down shirt translucent over his skin and 2) most likely harmless given that he’s clearly not hiding anything.

Jack even had a slow-motion moment to wonder, if this guy, as completely random and utterly unlikely as it was, was a puck bunny with a proposition.

His teammates all had wild stories of puck bunnies trying to sneak into their hotel rooms or private cars. But he hadn’t heard of an unreasonably hot guy in a see-through shirt just hopping into a parked car.

“I’m a shitty lifesaver?” Jack asked, still computing the scenarios in which he would say ‘yes’.

The wet stranger snapped his gaze up from a pile of cloth grocery bags at his feet, blinking owlishly large brown eyes at Jack.

With nothing better to say, Jack chose, “It is a rough night for a swim.”

His stranger exploded out of his seat with a flood of apologies, “Oh my god, I’m so sorry, sir! I thought that you were my friend Shitty and I just jumped into your car, I swear to god I’m not a creep, this was just a mistake.” And he was off, just as quick as he came, back into the pouring rain.

The heavy fall of rain immediately obscured his path. Curious, Jack jumped out of his car and looked around, but he couldn’t see any sign of the guy. Merely ready to shrug it off as one of the weirdest encounters this year at least, Jack turned to lock the door when he noticed that the guy had accidentally left one of his cloth grocery bags.

With equal measures of curiosity and paranoia (because Jack didn’t think that he would be blindsided by a pretty face, but it HAD been a really long day), Jack reached over to the passenger side seat, the rain sluicing down his back, and picked up the bag and found what had to be ten pounds of butter.

Jack completed his shopping, returned home, and finally (FINALLY) made the best damn plate of eggs he’s ever made all while completely encompassed in a cloud of questions.

_/\_ “So, a fan hopped into your car and gave you butter?” Marty asked, frowning down at a very simple butter cookie that Jack brought in to practice. . “No. Some guy hopped in my car. I think he thought I was someone else. The butter was an accident.”

“As far as pick-up lines go…” Thirdy began, in-between bites of his cookie.

Jack shook his head, “I don’t think he was a fan. I think he was just some guy taking advantage of the buy-one-get-one free sale at the grocery store.”

“But what I don’t understand,” Tater said, mouth full, “is why did you keep the butter?”

Fair question. Jack walked his teammates through the boring rationale that the store wouldn’t take the butter back without a receipt and they wouldn’t store it in case somebody came back for it. And being practical, Jack wasn’t going to just throw the butter away, so he left a note with the manager, ‘I took your butter. If you want it back or a refund, leave your number with the store. I’ll check back in a week.”

Thirdy laughed so suddenly, he snorted his water. “Man, that note sounds ominous as hell.” He mumbled over the lip of his cup, “If you want the butter back, meet me in a dark alley around midnight.”

Tater licked his fingers, “So, you are a butter bandit. You dress like one.” “No.” Jack stated as he packed up the rest of his cookies. He did not look down at his yellow shoes. This wasn’t complicated. “I’m trying to compensate him for the butter. It was a simple mistake, the guy shouldn’t lose out because of it.”

And if he got to see the guy again, that wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. But he wasn’t going to say that part out loud to these guys.

But Tater had already zeroed in on the chink in Jack’s armor. “For shame, Jack. Holding butter hostage so that you can see that poor man again. He may have been baking for his grandmother or a classroom of children. You think of that? No, because you are a Butter Bandit. You steal his dreams.”

Jack threw up his hands while his teammates laughed at him. “I’m never going to hear the end of this, am I?”

A chorus of “NO” followed him out the door.

And true to their word, they didn’t let up during practice, the team lunch, and the chirping even showed up in a ‘Meet the Falconers’ segment that PR kept insisting that Jack participate in.

Tater held up his camera with his long arm and aimed it at Jack who was cutting his stick. “Jack needs a nickname, something that will stick. Maybe…”

He trailed off, and Thirdy picked it back up again, face completely innocent as he continued to tape his stick. “He’s so slick on the ice. Smooth even. Smooth like butter.”

Marty poked his head into the camera’s frame. “It’s true, and the way that he steals the puck on the ice, he’s like a bandit, he’s so fast.

The video cut off to the sounds of three grown men cracking up while Jack looked at the camera stone-faced and finished checking his equipment.

_/\_ Evenings off were so rare, that Jack appropriately hoarded and cherished them with a mild glee. After he begged off of a team dinner, he hit the grocery store to purchase a few snacks, some more eggs, and some flour for crepes. And, perhaps, maybe the butter guy had stopped in and left a message and Jack could at least satisfy his curiosity and cross off that lingering to-do item on his mental list.

With his hat pulled down low, he pushed his cart around the perimeter of the grocery store, finally ducking into the baking aisle to replenish his stash of flour, when he saw a shock of familiar blond hair crouched down looking at the two different brands of finishing sugar. He was squatting down flat on his flip-flop covered feet in a pair of joggers and a grey tank top with Samwell writes in red across his shoulders. He hadn’t looked up yet, and so Jack took a moment to confirm his initial assessment of the guy. He WAS unfairly attractive and Jack was staring. When the butter guy stood up, Jack shook himself from his stupor and in a fit of action he couldn’t even begin to explain to himself, fled the aisle. Without his cart.

Jack rubbed his hands over his face and gave himself a stern talking to. The bottles of artificial pancake syrup even appeared to be judging him. When he finally had enough of being a coward, he walked back into the baking aisle with renewed determination to wrap up this entire awkward exchange.

But of course, the butter guy and his cart were gone.

Jack shuffled over to his shopping cart and grabbed a sack of flour before realizing that he had the wrong cart. It looked similar, yogurt, a package from the butcher’s counter, whole milk, and eggs, but he hadn’t picked up blueberries, pickles or any wine. Momentarily confused, Jack startled when he heard a very quiet clearing of a throat behind him.

“Um, excuse me. But I think I stole your cart?”

Jack turned around and locked eyes with the brown eyes he had last seen in his car a week prior.

“I think I have your nine pounds of your butter.”

He was delighted in seeing the pink rush into the guy’s face from his neck and ears before he responded. “Hey, wait, I thought I had 10 pounds.”

“I used a pound - finders fee.” Jack said easily despite his sweaty palms.

They stood frozen, looking at each other, before Jack held out his hand, “I’m Jack. I apparently have a car similar to one of your friends?”

His hand was met with a warm firm handshake and a self-deprecating smile. “I’m Eric, and I need to look before I just hop into a stranger’s vehicle.”

“Probably for the best, eh? Not everyone is as nice as I am.”

Jack earned a full smile in return and it felt like a goal.

“Umm, I can return your butter. And your shopping sack - I mean, I don’t have it all right now. It’s in my refrigerator at home.”

Eric nodded. “Well, let me make it up to you. Can I buy you a burger as a thank you? You could have just tossed it or donated it. It was kind of you to try and get it back to me. Most people don’t usually need that much butter.”

The question must have flitted across his face because Eric merely laughed. “I work over at the University in the anthropology department, and I bake cupcakes, cookies, and pies on the side. I had a party order for that Sunday.”

“And I stole your butter?”

Eric waved his hand, “No! I broke into your car, dropped my butter and then it served me right that I had to go across town to buy 10 more pounds.”

Feeling bolder than he had all week, Jack removed his hat and pushed his hair back. “You know, if you don’t mind, I had all this extra butter I didn’t know what to do with, so I tried to make some cookies but they were kinda dry. It sounds like you might be able to help me perfect my recipe, yeah?”

Jack watched as Eric preened for a second, his eyes darting up at Jack’s face, trying to read something that Jack really hoped was he clearly projecting back at him. Eric, straightening his shirt, “I think I can do that.”

Jack beamed, “Okay, let’s wrap up here and grab that burger? Do you need a ride?”

Eric, ears still pink, “Yeah, I typically walk to the store. I don’t have a car right now.”

“That’s fine. Plus you are already familiar with mine.”

Eric groaned. “I walked right into that, didn’t I?”

“Just like you did to my car last week.” Jack chirped with a huge smile as Eric slapped his arm playfully.

“Ugh, you think you are so funny don’t you.”

And Jack didn’t know about that, but he did think he was pretty lucky.

#peeps-the-writer #fanfic #bv2018 #bittysvalentines #bittyjack

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canyousevmyheavydirtysoul · 6 years

Text

You’re My Bodyguard, Not My Owner. (Chapter 19) (Brendon Urie x Reader)

“Is this outing authorised?” you asked, nervously glancing back at the SHIELD headquarters, which was no more than a speck in the distance at this point.

“No, of course not,” Brendon scoffed, taking a right turn, “You think The Director would ever approve this?”

“No, never. That’s why I’m asking,” you said, “Doesn’t SHIELD have cameras in the garage and GPS trackers on their vehicles? Aren’t we gonna get caught?”

“I called in a favour with one of the tech guys,” he explained, not once taking his eyes off of the road to glance at you, “We’ll be untraceable for the next few hours.”

You nodded, but then another concern struck you. “What if The Director wants to speak with us-“

“The Director is insanely occupied at the moment,” Brendon cut you off, “He won’t be wanting to speak with any of us anytime soon. Trust me, (Y/N). There’s no way I would’ve ever attempted this if I wasn’t sure it would work,” he grumbled.

The car ride lasted for approximately an hour, and despite your best efforts, you couldn’t get so much as a peep out of Brendon in regards to where you were headed. Considering the past seven months, you assumed that he was taking you somewhere secluded and unmapped, so you were as enormously surprised as ever when you pulled up to a lavish looking night club.

At first, you thought that this was just a quick stop, but once Brendon got out, opened the door for you and waited for you to get out with an expectant look on his face, your eyes practically bulged out of your head.

“Wait, are you serious?”

“I’m always serious,” was his typically-Brendon response, and he shifted his weight from one foot to the other before furrowing his brows, “It’s your birthday. And considering the lovely past seven months you’ve had, I thought you deserved a break. Albeit a short one.”

You were speechless. This entire situation was so surreal and unlike your stone cold bodyguard, and you weren’t sure what to feel at that moment.

Your lack of verbal communication was daunting, and Brendon’s confident demeanour faltered a tiny bit.

“You don’t like it.”

“What?” you sputtered, “No, no, I-I love it,” you reassured him, raising your eyebrows and opening and closing your mouth, trying to think of something to say.

“Don’t bother,” Brendon said, cocking his head towards the entrance, “Let’s get inside.”

The two of you started briskly walking down the outstretched dark purple carpet to the front door; Brendon trailed extremely close behind you and kept a firm hand clamped on your lower back at all times; the sensation of his hand on your body, even though it was through two layers of fabric, made your skin burn up.

The bouncer held up a hand to cease the two of you from entering. Brendon leaned in to whisper something you couldn’t make out into the burly man’s ear, and with a glance at you and a short nod, he stepped back and allowed you to enter.

The inside of the bar took your breath away. It was a vast space, decked out with the shiniest, most expensive linoleum floor and wonderfully crafted walls, which led up to a giant crystal chandelier, which you noticed was not only a source of perfect mood lighting, but also another floor in itself.

With an intricate look around, you noticed that the floor you were currently on was the ground floor, where the DJ and dance floor were situated, the upper level ‘chandelier’ was a cocktail room serving speciality and artisanal wines, and the lower level was an intimate private lounge.

“So, did I do a good job in choosing a location to spend your birthday?” Brendon questioned, leaning in so that you could hear him over the pumping music.

“’Good’ is an understatement,” you breathed, shaking your head, “This is incredible, Brendon. Thank you so much.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” he responded, giving a quick glance over your shoulder, “There’s still one more surprise. Quite possibly better than this,” he cocked his head to indicate that he was talking about the bar.

You furrowed your brows and scoffed in amusement. “I don’t think you could top this.”

He nodded to behind you. “Don’t be so sure.”

A bit hesitantly, you turned around, and upon seeing what was behind you, you had to stifle a scream.

“What’s up, buttercup?” (Y/B/F) beamed, taking another step towards you, “Long time no see. It’s almost like you’ve been in hiding or something,” she joked, laughing once you flung yourself onto her, “I missed you too!”

“Oh, my god,” you squeaked, squeezing the life out of your friend, ecstatic that you were getting to see her after so long, “I can’t believe this! You’re really here!”

“I’m really here!” she said, and the two of you yelped in glee again.

“But… how?” you questioned, still in disbelief.

“You can thank your bodyguard over there,” she cocked her head at Brendon, who was standing a little distance away, yet still very close to you, as usual, “He put all of this together.”

Turning around, you smiled at your bodyguard, who was still wearing his signature emotionless expression. Under any other circumstance, you would’ve never done what you did next, but you were exceptionally happy, and any second-guessing went out the window.

You walked up to Brendon, and when you were close enough, you flung your arms around him, similar to how you had done with (Y/B/F) moments earlier. Brendon was utterly shocked and slightly awkward; he didn’t know how to respond. When, after a few seconds, you still hadn’t unhooked yourself, he very slowly and apprehensively placed both hands on your back; at this acceptance, you instinctively tightened your grip.

“Thank you, Brendon,” you whispered into his ear, starting to feel a little teary-eared; you were overwhelmed, “You have no idea how much this means to me.”

“Yeah,” he said after a few seconds, clearing his throat, “Yeah, don’t mention it.”

When you pulled away, you smiled at him and he actually gave a half-smile in return, making your smile grow even wider. You stayed looking at one another until (Y/B/F) clapped her hands.

“Let’s party!”

“Two Cosmos, please,” you requested from the cute young bartender.

“Coming right up,” he smirked, shooting you a wink, at which you smiled coyly.

You didn’t notice it, but as the bartender walked away, Brendon – who was sitting on a stool right next to you – gave him a death glare so intense, the poor guy tripped over his own feet and stumbled a bit.

“Nice to know that being cut off from civilisation from months on end hasn’t killed your game,” (Y/B/F) teased, nudging you in the ribs, “You’re still catching ‘em hook, line and sinker.”

“Yeah, well,” you sighed, “not like there’s anything that can come from it. It’s back to normal for me from tomorrow.”

“Yes, but that’s tomorrow,” (Y/B/F) chimed, “We’ve got tonight. So make it count. Besides, it’s not like you can go home with him – it’s just a little harmless flirting.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re right,” you nodded, straightening up, “It’s perfectly harmless.”

The cute bartender returned, nervously setting the two drinks down with shaky hands. “H-here ya go,” he said softly, avoiding eye contact.

“Thanks,” you beamed, flashing him your most dazzling smile, “I’m (Y/N),” you leaned forward a little bit, “What’s your name?”

His gaze flickered from you to your bodyguard, who was staring at him intensely as he took a sip from his beer. He readjusted his collar – which seemed a bit too tight, all of a sudden – and swallowed.

“Uh, I’m sorry, but I really have to get back to work. Excuse me,” he muttered, avoiding your gaze as he hurried off down the bar, leaving you stunned.

“That was weird,” you muttered, picking up your cocktail and sipping it.

“Ah, nevermind him,” (Y/B/F) waved a dismissive hand, picking up her drink in the other hand, “There’s plenty more talent on the dance floor. Let’s go!”

You smiled at your friend and started to follow her out onto the floor, but Brendon, who pulled you back by your arm, stopped you. You raised your eyebrows at him and he leaned in a bit, so that you could hear him.

“Not too far from me, okay?”

You gave him a small nod and he let go of you, leaving you to join (Y/B/F). As you approached her, you rolled your eyes at the teasing look she had on her face.

“What?” you sighed.

“Seems like you and Mr Bodyguard have gotten pretty close,” she chimed, smirking at you.

You scoffed. “He was just telling me not to wander too far.”

“How sweet.”

“He’s not being sweet, he’s doing his job,” you countered.

“Oh? So organising tonight was part of his duties, then?”

You couldn’t respond to that, so you sighed again as you ran your tongue over your teeth.

“That’s what I thought,” she pursed her lips and shot you a smug look, “He really cares about you, you know.” Her statement caused you to burst out laughing; she frowned, her face turning serious. “I mean it,” she insisted, and you nodded patronisingly, still giggling, “Do you really think he would’ve done all of this if he didn’t? Like I said, it’s not part of his duty, so that means he did it because he wanted you to have a good birthday. Because he cares about you. And the way he gets all protective over you? My God, it’s insane,” she shook her head, eyes going wide as she blew out a breath.

You gave her a befuddled look, not really sure how she would know how intense his protectiveness could get. She picked up on this and explained what she was talking about.

“When he reached out to me about tonight, the first thing he did was threaten me.”

“Sounds about right,” you sighed.

“Yeah, he literally said he would kill me if he found out I was working for Hydro-“

“Hydra,” you corrected, and she nodded.

“Yeah, that. And he said that he never trusts anyone with anything, but he was breaking that rule for your birthday. Then, he warned me that if I broke his trust by telling anyone about the plan or about where we would be tonight, he would kill me. At this point, I was starting to think he was just looking for an excuse to murder me, and I was a bit unsettled, but I went along with it – it was for my best friend, after all. Anyway, during the phone call, we set up a meeting at this diner in the next town for a few days later. It was very unnerving; I felt like I was being interrogated. Although, I’m sure the cops would’ve been much friendlier than him,” she shuddered at the memory, “He kept on asking me questions. About everything. How long I’ve known you, why we became friends, if I would be willing to take a bullet for you if the need arises… he even made me scan my fingerprint in this pocket device-thingy to make sure that it was actually me. After the interrogation, he gave me an envelope with the details for tonight inside, got up and left. But not before he threatened to kill me. Again. So, yeah, he’s totally in love with you.”

“Woah, woah, woah,” you frowned, holding up both hands, “When did we go from ‘he cares about you’ to ‘he’s in love with you’?”

“Since he’s looking at you with bedroom eyes,” she quipped, nodding behind you.

“What?” you spun around and sure enough, Brendon was staring at you. Him watching you was a normal thing, but there was something different about his gaze this time around, and it gave you goosebumps. You swallowed – even though your mouth was dry – and held his gaze for a minute; you knew that he would refuse to be the one to break eye-contact first, so you sped up the process and turned back to (Y/B/F), who tossed you a look as if to say ‘I told you so’.

“Whatever,” you said, downing the remainder of your drink in one gulp, “Let’s dance.”

___________________________________________________________________________

Thank you for reading x

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#brendon urie #brendon urie x reader #bodyguard!brendon #bodyguard #marvel #patd #p!atd #panic at the disco #panic! at the disco #imagine #imagines #fanfic

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