#nobody has the heart to tell him that his left shoe's been untied for a while

[futurewriter2000]

Dysfunctional - pt. 1

A/N: I'm just bored.

XX

Growth is something only a little amount of people know about. Nobody truly wants to grow but they do, whether they choose to or not, through time they change.

And so as a bad man finds a bible, a good woman finds her power.

Who were you in the eyes of most people? - A question that always floated in the back of your mind. Like a pebble in your shoe, the one you could never get rid of. It was the main question that bothered you all years through Hogwarts, up to a point where you pushed it so far down and completely transformed it.

Who are you in the eyes of yourself?

Foolish question that oddly worked wonders for you and your transformation. You change your mindset, you change yourself right? At least that's what all those Muggle books had been telling you.

All Hogwarts dug their interest in you all of a sudden but you haven't thought much about it. For you, it was as if nothing had changed. You thought you didn't interest anybody and that was what made you keep yourself on the right path to focus on you and the little moments life has to offer.

"I can't believe that's her." Sirius leaned over, staring and smiling.

"Wave a whole banner, don't you." Remus retorded, rolling his eyes.

"If only she wasn't a Slytherin- by the way, how could she had got sorted into Slytherin. Since our interactions had always been so... civil and well... she posed no threat what-so-ever. I'd always imagined her being in a Hufflepuff." James added, meanwhile Sirius sat down and grabbed himself a toast.

"She lives not far from us." started Peter and all eyes turned to him. "(Y/n)." he felt the need to clarify. "I had heard loads of shouting in her house... since we lived there, everybody knew her family situation."

"Rich and spoiled?" Sirius rolled his eyes, taking another bite in his toast.

"Rich and... strict... very strict father and mother..." Peter mumbled, looking at his bread.

"Oh, that's right. Met her father once- loud old sod." James looked back, looking at you laughing with some of other Slytherins- the bad kind that caused his heart to be swallowed by his stomach. "Always so angry..." he continued, looking at you until your eyes met and he quickly turned away.

"She's got nice hair." said Sirius as all of them furrowed their eyebrows at him. "It's just an observation." he shrugged.

---

You had been starting to hang out a lot with the wrong crowd of Hogwarts. Everybody started to notice... everybody started to say they were corrupting you and the changes they noticed were quite massive.

You started talking back to the teachers. Something you have never thought of doing, since your shyness was a large part of your childhood personality. But that was just it... you weren't a child anymore, were you?

You were going out of the classroom when somebody rushed right into you, spilling the coffee in your hand all over you and your books.

The boy's eyes widened as he continued to look at the stains that were starting to show all over your uniform.

"I am so sorry, (Y/N). I swear, I didn't mean to- I just- you appeared out of nowhere-" James started to apologize. You were only staring down, staring at him, then back down and just as James was preparing to be yelled at, hexed at or cursed at you let out a laugh.

"Well hell..." you smiled up at him. "Finally a reason to get a new robe." you let out another laugh, meanwhile James only stood there.

"You're not... mad?"

"Well, being mad wouldn't really do us much favour, would it now?" you picked up your books that weren't that much damaged as you thought they'd be. "Shame for the coffee tho. Can't really function without it."

"Coffee?" he repeated. "You're mad about the coffee?" he started to feel a bit relieved.

"I don't joke about coffee, Potter. You should know that." you wiped the books with the sleeves of your uniform. You started to take off the robe so that you would only stand there in front of him with your shirt, tie and skirt. Only then James started to realise how much your body has changed since the last time he had seen you. Your breast, specifically, where he could see your finely shaped lace bra through the coffee stain. He felt his cheeks go red, radiating through his faint freckles and you couldn't help yourself but to smile.

"I'm so sorr- rry." he muttered again, taking off his robe and offering it to you. "Here. Take it."

"Oh, nice. A Gryffindor robe." you took it and wrapped it around yourself. "Though, I always imagined stealing it." you winked and he let out a laugh.

"Would fit your house perfectly."

"Theft?" you questioned. "No. Not a trait for Slytherins."

"No?" he grinned, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back. "If it's not their trait, then whose is?"

"Mine." you winked again, grabbing the bag from the floor as James grabbed your books. "Now, imagine a Slytherin coming into the common room with a Gryffindor robe. God, I'd piss them all off."

James started to laugh. "You hate your own house?"

"Oh, God no." you let out a laugh as you started to walk beside him and notice him looking at you, observing you. "I just find this house thing rivalry real funny." you said, finding him still staring. You stopped and turned around. "What are you staring at Potter?"

"You, clearly." he pointed out bluntly. "It suits you so much better than me and it clearly doesn't even fit you."

You started to laugh. "Well, don't get jealous over it. I'll give it back to you when we reach the dungeons."

"Oh, you can give it back later?"

"Why?"

"Because you can see everything through the stains. Why do you think I offered it to you? Plus, you said you wanted to piss off Slytherins and I'd like to piss of Slytherins as well."

"A common interest."

"Exactly."

"Though, I think they'll live, knowing I wear a bra and that I have... a body. Maybe they'll finally stop thinking I'm half mermaid or something." you started to joke and so did James. "If I really wanted to piss them off, I'd use a tie because a robe looks like any other robe, really."

James was the one that stopped now, shoving the books he held into your arms and untying his tie.

"No way, you're doing that. I was joking."

"I'm not." he smiled with his teeth and pulled it over his head. He untied yours and pulled it over yours, exchanging it for his own, Gryffindor tie. "Tell me how it goes. " he said just before he left, lifting your tie in his fist. "I'll keep on to this- just in case I don't get mine back.

"Alrighty!" you shouted after him.

---

It wasn't until the next day when James was drowsily eating his breakfast before his practice. You came from behind and scared him half to death. His toast flew from his hand and all eyes flew to the two of you. You squeezed between him and the red-head, completely dismissing her presence as you gave James a cheeky smile.

"Want to know?"

"You made my toast fly away." he siad drowsily.

"And you made my coffee make love to the floor. Now do you want to know?"

"How are you so chirp this morning? It's not even seven?"

"Got up at 2am. Had like two coffees since then. Anyway. Do you want to know?"

"Two in the morning? Hell, why did you get up so early- that's not even early... that's like late. And yeah, I do want to know." he started t wake up to the news.

"Been studying all week at night and now I sleep in the noon and am awake in the night. Fun." you chirped.

"Okay- tell me what happened?"

"The looks- oh, my God, you should have been there when I walked it. It was like I murdered their entire family."

"No-" he let out a laugh.

"Mulciber came to me." you started to talk in a more drama-spilling tone and James got excited.

"I thought the two of you were like friends."

"Us? Maybe in another dimension but like-

' *flashback*

"What the hell are you wearing?" he stomped to you and grabbed you by your tie, to which you shoved away in a second.

"Haven't you seen this new trend? I think it goes with- you are what you eat." you started to tease, turning around like a fashion model as you placed your hands on your hips. "Or in this case, you wear what you eat and I eat coffee every day, any day." you winked.

"And the tie?"

"You like?" you continued, seeing the little jealousy burn in his eyes, except you knew far well it wasn't jealousy. It was possessiveness and you'd rather go to hell than be anybody's property. "It's from my new beau." you fanned yourself, wrapping yourself in his robe and peeking through it. "A prince on white horse came to me today-"

"Be serious, (y/n)."

"I am dead serious." you pouted playfully. "He rushed on his horse and knocked me down, spilled my poor coffee all over me. It was like love at first sight. He scooped me into his arms and said 'Oh, dear! How could I have hurt this beautiful creature.-"

"You really didn't say that?" James interrupted the story telling, laughing as the other's who were surrounding you laughed with you.

"I did. Now let me go back."

- "He didn't say that!" Mulciber rolled his eyes. "Don't tell me you're shagging a Gryffindor?"

"I'm not." you started to get more serious. "And if I would be, would it be such a bad thing doing one? I mean, you only live once, why would it be wrong not taking a taste of all four cakes." you teased again, causing him to grow redder in his pale skin.

"You stole it."

"It was pleasantly exchanged."

"Exchanged?"

"A tie for a tie." you smiled.

"Why don't we go, eye for an eye?"

"Because nobody wants to give their eye, silly." you continued.

"You really annoy me, you know."

"I do and I really do not care. I only want to go to my room and take a nap."

"I will find out, you know!"

"I don't care!"

"Who was it?!"

"Dumbledore!"

*end of fashback*

"You're crazy." James continued to laugh.

"A little dysfunctional but not crazy." you winked and got up.

"And my things?"

"Do you got mine?"

"No, I didn't think I'd see you this early."

"Well then... guess they are mine now." you leaned forward, an inch apart as both of you continued to grin at each other, not another word spoken. You didn't dare to look anywhere else than his hazel eyes, such a wonderful mixture of green, brown and yellow. It amazes you how somebody can have such a wonderful eye colour. He didn't even only have one colour but three. "Pretty." you said, still smiling and pulled away, jumping back on your feet as he turned to you, smiling.

"Wait!" Sirius spoke before you could leave. "When did... when did you become best friends?"

"We didn't." James answered and you looked down at him, raising an eyebrow and feeling amused.

"No. We just made blood bond nobody else could break." you spoke mysteriously, putting your elbows on James' shoulders and placing your head on top of his, staring at Sirius. "And now we will secretly plan the end of the world. Muahahah." you joked, standing back up as the others laughed. "See you later Potts." and with that you were gone as the other watched you.

"What... just happened?" Remus started laughing, amazed.

"They made a blood bond." Sirius pointed his finger at you disappearing.

James started laughing. "Maybe now I can ask her about what she does with her hair for you." James got up and winked at Sirius.

"Oh, would you? I really want to know." Sirius stood up and started to walk behind him. "Just... say it's for Lily or something."

James started laughing again, then realising. "Oh, shit!" he turned around, searching for the red-head that was sitting beside him. "She was telling me something when (y/n) appeared. I totally forgot about her."

Sirius started laughing loudly, tapping James' shoulder. "Good luck getting her attention now."

#james potter #james potter x reader #james potter imagines #sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius black imagines #sirius black imagine #james potter imagine #remus lupin #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin imagines #remus lupin x reader #marauders #marauders imagine #marauders imagines #marauders x reader #marauders era

[silhouetteofacedar]

Fox Mulder, Closet Romantic Ch. 4: Man Pouts on Couch

Previous Chapter - AO3 - MSR, rated E

Mulder is not feeling lucky.

In hindsight, he should have suspected something was off today; Scully kept looking at her watch.

It’s Friday, March 13th, and he thought it’d be cute to invite Scully out for a drink again, make a little joke about it becoming a Friday the 13th tradition. This could work, he thinks. His plan is simple; ask her out every once in a while, for some reason or another, with the intention of eventually coming clean and setting up a proper date.

At five o’clock he stands up and stretches with performative nonchalance. “Buy you a drink, Scully?” he asks, cocking his head towards the calendar pinned to the office wall, surrounded by newspaper clippings and grainy photos.

She pauses with her arm halfway into the sleeve of her coat. “I…” She falters and presses her lips together, looking suddenly guilty.

“What is it?” he asks quietly, a pit growing in his stomach.

“I’d love to, Mulder, but I actually have a date tonight.”

The earth stops spinning and Mulder is thrown off balance, hurtling through the atmosphere.

“Oh,” he says softly. “That doctor guy?”

Scully nods, not meeting his gaze. “His name is Mark,” she says. “We’re getting sushi.” She looks up at him then, big blue eyes soft. “A rain check?” she asks hopefully.

She owns him; one look like that and he’d sell his soul to buy her a cup of shitty coffee. “Sure. Another time, then,” Mulder says, gathering up every scrap of composure he has left, patching together a smile for her. “Have fun.”

He goes home and throws himself face down onto the couch.

She has a date. A real date, with a presumably mentally stable human man with a high-value job. And a daughter. A ready-made family, just add water and stir. This Mark guy probably calls her Dana, asks her how her mother’s doing, feeds her bits of sashimi with no threat of aliens or shadow governments in sight. Maybe he’ll kiss her at the end of the night, softly with closed lips like a gentleman.

What stings the most is the fact that this Doctor Mark had the balls to tell Scully outright that he’s interested in her romantically, something Mulder has yet to do.

Mulder knows he should eat, but his stomach is churning and the idea of food sickens him. He’s being dramatic and irrational; it’s just one date. But the implications are weighty, the potential enormous.

He feels bad for being upset. This is good for her; she needs to get out of the basement, connect with other rational people, find some normalcy and balance in her life.

You need those things too, he hears her say in his head.

He brushes it aside. It’s different for him; he created this life for himself. He’s a collapsed star, a black hole of conspiracy and paranoia that sucks in everything that gets too close. The last thing he wants is for her to get lost in his darkness, swallowed by the void like some interstellar debris.

She’d told him that night in Rock Creek Park that she does’t blame him for what’s happened to her, but that doesn’t assuage his guilt. He carries the weight of what she calls her choices, a load she has no intention of sharing with him, awaiting no acknowledgement or thanks.

He’s doing it to himself.

Mulder whiles away the hours on the couch, gazing up at the constellations of pencil marks on his ceiling, tossing his basketball above his head. He drops it on his face twice.

He knows it’s probably only going to make him feel worse, but he’s a glutton for punishment; so at eleven-thirty that night he picks up the phone and calls Scully.

He waits for her to answer, his heart sinking lower with each ring. She’s not picking up. Is she still out? he thinks anxiously. The guy has a kid, so it’s unlikely that they’d stay out too late unless he’s arranged it with his babysitter…

“Hello?” Scully’s slightly husky voice cuts through his thoughts.

“Scully,” he says, tentative relief creeping into his body.

“Mulder, what is it?” she asks. “It’s late. For normal people, anyway. Are you alright?”

“‘M’ fine,” he assures he. “Just couldn’t sleep.”

He hears her hum in understanding. Late night phone calls between them aren’t uncommon, after all. “Have you tried counting sheep?” she asks, not unkindly. “Or slowing your breathing down, focusing on the cadence of inhales and exhales like I showed you?”

He’s wide awake, sitting upright on his couch, still in the slacks and wrinkled button-down he wore to the office that day. “Yes,” he lies. “It’s not helping. There’s too much going on in my head right now.”

“You work too much,” she says gently. “And yet not enough, when deadlines are involved. We’ve got an impressive paperwork backlog-”

“Can we not talk about work right now?” He reaches down and unties his shoes. “Otherwise I’ll never get to sleep.”

“Right.” There’s rustling on her end. She’s in bed, he realizes.

“Did I wake you, Scully?” he asks, trying to hide his surprise.

“It’s fine, Mulder, I was only dozing,” she replies.

“Oh, how was the date?” he asks, as though it only just occurred to him, instead of being the only thing he’s thought about all night.

“It was nice,” she responds, and he drops his head onto the back of the couch in defeat. Shit. Shit shit shit shit-

“We talked about medicine, about cancer, loss. His daughter’s name is Amanda,” she continues. “Her mother - his wife - died when Mandy was only two, so he’s mostly raised her alone.”

“That’s rough,” Mulder says softly. Please don’t make me feel bad for this guy, Scully, I can’t bear it, he thinks.

“Mhm,” she agrees. “And his work at the hospital is pretty grueling, so his mother helps out a lot. I… I told him about Emily.”

“How’d that go?” Mulder asks, concerned. “It’s not the most… plausible-sounding story.”

“I was vague,” she replies. “All I really said was that I had recently reconnected with a child I’d been separated from, right before she died. He didn’t ask for details; he could probably tell it was a fresh wound.”

They’re silent for a moment.

“Do you think you’ll see him again?” Mulder asks quietly. Somehow he already knows what she’s going to say, and he braces himself for the sting of her words as they pierce his heart.

“I… I think I will,” Scully says, sounding distant. “I mean, it’s worth a shot, right?”

She deserves this. She deserves a chance at something ordinary, safe, comfortable.

“Maggie Scully didn’t raise a quitter,” he says with a watery smile she’ll never see.

She chuckles. “No, I suppose she didn’t,” Scully muses. He hears her yawn. “I’m tired out, Mulder. Think you can sleep now?”

“I’ll try,” he says. He’s surprised to feel his eyes beginning to burn with unshed tears. “Thanks for talking to me,” he adds.

“Anytime. Sleep well,” she says warmly, and the line goes dead.

He supposes he brought this on himself by keeping his feelings hidden. He waited too long, playing it safe. He wanted to gauge her feelings before he made any overt moves, and someone else beat him to it.

It’s just one date. But there’s going to be more. By the sound of it, she wants there to be more.

There’s no way he’s going to sleep well tonight.

He’s in a sour mood when he’s summoned to the Gunmen’s… den? lair? headquarters? the next afternoon, by way of one of their patented cryptic phone calls.

Byers unfastens the dozen locks on the door and lets him inside. “Mulder,” he says, ushering him in. “Good to see you.”

Mulder flops down in a rickety desk chair, exhaustion permeating his muscles. “I’m not up for being social today, boys,” he warns. “You said you had information for me?”

“We took the liberty of looking into Agent Scully’s new… uh, friend,” Byers says.

“For safety reason,” Langly adds, seeing Mulder’s lips purse.

“She’s precious cargo,” Frohike says, wiggling his eyebrows.

“How did you find him?” Mulder asks. “I didn’t even know his first name until yesterday.”

“Don’t insult us with your surprise,” Frohike mutters. “We’re experts.”

“We knew he’s a part of the parish Scully attends-“ Byers begins.

“And we knew he’s an ER doc, has a 6 year old daughter, and a dead wife,” Langly cuts in. “That’s plenty to go on.”

“I don’t need to know more than that,” Mulder says, suddenly feeling guilty. “It’s not my business.”

“Maybe not, but we have the info,” Frohike says. “Look, all you need to know is that he seems legit. Name’s Einolander, if you were curious.”

“I wasn’t,” Mulder lies, taking a sunflower seed out of his pocket and biting it pensively.

“Of course not,” Byers says, sounding completely unconvinced.

“You alright, Mulder?” Langly asks. “You look rough.”

“Of course he does,” Frohike hisses in the least subtle whisper of all time. “Scully’s dating someone that’s not him. Cut the guy some slack.”

“You guys don’t know shit,” Mulder grumbles, then backtracks, running his hands over his face. “I’m sorry. I, uh... didn’t sleep well.”

“It’s okay, man,” Langly says.

Frohike nods sagely. ”We know how you feel about her. This can’t be easy for you.”

Mulder wilts in his chair. “How did you know?” he asks pathetically, realizing the jig is up. Has he really been so obvious this whole time? Fucking hell.

“Look, knowing things is our business,” Byers explains. “And we know you. We’ve been around the block with you a few times, and nobody’s meant this much to you. Not even Diana.”

“Plus, Agent Scully is a smokeshow, and you have eyes,” Frohike adds. Byers gives him a jab with his elbow. “Hey, I stand by that,” he declares, rubbing his arm.

“Well thanks anyway, fellas,” Mulder says, standing. “I should get going. The walls in my apartment won’t stare at themselves.”

“Do you want the file we put together on the guy?” Byers asks. “We can make copies.”

Mulder shakes his head. “Keep it. Draw a mustache on his photo or something.” He picks up his coat and slings it over his shoulder. “You kids have fun.”

“If you need anything, just flag us down,” Frohike says, patting Mulder’s back before unlatching the door.

Mulder steps out the door, then turns back. “How old is this guy?”

“Forty-one,” Byers says, flipping through the file. “Five-foot-ten, dark blond hair, brown eyes. Blood type-”

Mulder holds up a hand. “I don’t want to know. Bye, guys.”

He gets a petty, juvenile satisfaction from the fact that he’s two inches taller and four years younger than Dr. Einolander. It’s short-lived, but at this point he’ll take what he can get.

Because he can’t get Scully.

#my fic #txf fic #msr #xfiles #fox mulder closet romantic #fmcr #OH SHIT YALL THE ANGST TRAIN IS PULLING INTO THE STATION #had to do it to em

[sleepyowlwrites]

find the word tag CCLXII

the poem thing happened again today except that I remembered the words by myself. haha! sometimes I have braincells. I was really sleepy today too so that was funky. @justwriteyoudummy

gaze (youth story d0)

R tugged Nyks toward him and wrapped his arm around the less than solid boy. “I’m sorry. I’m stupid.”

“You’re not stupid,” Nyks mumbled. “You’re just dumb.”

“Uh huh.”

Mark looked just as wrung out as Nyks had. R sent Evie a meaningful gaze. She rolled her eyes but pulled Mark into a hug before he could say anything. His arms dangled at his sides until he caught R glaring at him and returned the hug gingerly.

“So what I got from this is that you really hate running,” Nyks whispered in R’s ear.

“You have no idea,” he whispered back.

blue (glow, 2021)

“Mama, do you want to hold my pearl?” I ask her after dinner, holding it out to her.

She takes it with careful reverence, the light of it reflecting in her soft, blue eyes. “It’s very warm,” she tells me. “You must have been feeding it.”

“I told it about my day and how much I love you!”

When Mama kisses the hands she places the pearl into, I think I can feel how much she loves me, too. But I don’t ever have to think, because she tells me right after.

“I love you too, baby.”

open (youth story d0 - it's Nyks. he's two years older than Daniel)

Daniel munched on his macaron mournfully. “I didn’t sleep well, I needed the caffeine."

“What do you tell me to do when I’m tired? Do you give me four shots of espresso and say, “this is the responsible thing to do, Nyks. This is smart,” or do you wrap me in a blanket and say, “take a nap,” huh?” Nyks popped a macaron in his own mouth, his head tilting to the side as Daniel scowled at him.

“Don’t feed me my own words. It’s rude.”

“Do you also not want to be fed macarons, then?” Nyks held one up but didn’t place it in Daniel’s now open mouth. “Which of us is older, hmm?”

ready (from: a sketch, bold lines, chromatic, 2021)

do you want a self-portrait? I can give you one.

my heart is here, on my sleeve, right next to my elbow. I keep it in a plastic bag so it doesn’t get wet, but you can see it. it’s real, and pulsing, and the love can come out of it just fine. love is not tangible, you see, unless it has already left the heart in which case I can put it in my hands and lay them on your cheeks and then it is very tangible in so far as you will allow yourself to feel it.

I wear my shoes with the laces double knotted and I rarely untie them. I slip them on for work and kick them off when I get home. they fall haphazardly by the door, but they are by the door, kept, not lost, and are ready for use when I need them.

lost, found, ahead, behind, beside. BONUS: myriad, eternal. @spacetimewraithwrites @mothwriter @mecharose @lanawritesalittle @lend-your-lungs-to-me @writingamongther0ses OR ANYBODY or nobody

#find the word tag #tag game #searching circle #unsleeping club

[dadsbongos]

shallow

Insert Coin - Chapter 2.b / Series Masterlist

His hair is sprawled out below him and his lips are pulled into a fragile smile when she enters, the smile only widens once he notices her, “(Y/n), what a pleasant surprise!”

Taking in the boy’s predicament, she fully studied how Nagito was tied up - chains tightly binding his arms and legs and attaching him to a heating pole in the back of the room.

“And you’ve brought food - you really are the best, just as expected from an Ultimate,” he noted as (Y/n) sat beside him, “My sincerest apologies for burdening you with this task, if you wish, you could let me starve.”

“No, you need food, Nagito,” the peacekeeper refuted, setting down the plate and bringing a hand to the boy’s face, lifting his head and resting it upon her lap so he wouldn’t choke when he tried to swallow, “Besides, I volunteered to be here.”

“How lucky for me,” Nagito grinned, eyes closed and tone light, as if he didn’t know why he was tied up in the first place, “I get to be with the Ultimate Peacekeeper. I’m not sure how trash like me could ever be of assistance in that, but I’ll do anything I can.”

“Just eat, for now,” she mumbled, gathering some eggs on toast and folding it in half before holding the bread to Nagito’s lips, “I’m sorry for how awkward this is, but please bear with me. You get that I can’t undo your restraints at the moment, right?”

“Of course, anything you Ultimates need, I’m of service,” he didn’t resist any bites and was oddly cooperative for a man held down against his will. Even doing his best to keep his lips from accidentally brushing (Y/n)’s hand as they reached their final bits of food.

It was once they were down to his bottle of milk that Nagito spoke up again,

“I just hope you don’t catch anything from having to feed me.”

(Y/n)’s brows shot up as she opened the bottle, “Do you have any bugs or diseases?”

Suddenly, the expression on Nagito’s face soured, brows furrowing and lips tugging down into a soft frown before he shook it off, “Nothing contagious.”

“Then we’re good, yeah?” she waited for his nod of agreement before carefully, carefully, carefully lifting the lip of the bottle to his mouth, “Keep your head still, okay? I’ll go slowly.”

He nodded, but the easy-going, calmed look was gone once again. Instead, he seemed as though he were a caged animal. A kenneled dog, sad eyes and pouting lips. Even as he drank, he looked so dismal. And after he was done, the look didn’t wash away.

“I’m sorry we acted so quickly, really I am, but in the panic there must’ve been the feeling this is all that could be done,” (Y/n) ran her fingers through Nagito’s hair, hoping to relax the poor boy, “Do you want to move?”

“No,” he sighed, “besides, I understand. If everyone desires to feel safe, who am I to get in their way? I’m barely even worthy of being their stepping stone let alone part of their discussions.”

“Of course, you’re worthy, you’re a breathing, thinking, living human being - you always have a say in what happens to you.”

Despite her words, she still couldn't forget. He was the reason Byakuya was dead. He was the reason Teruteru would never escape.

(Y/n) looked down at the boy, who’d shifted to lay on his side with his head still in her lap, “I’ll be around a lot, so I hope you don’t mind my presence.”

“I never could,” Nagito weakly responded, eyes locked on the wall across from them, “You shouldn’t have to stay with me. You can leave now and I’ll tell the others you were here.”

“No,” she wanted him to know how badly what he’d done hurt her - hurt all of them, but she was sure there was something behind it. Nagito didn’t wake up that day and decide he’d be the reason two people died, there has to be something else, “I want to stay here. With you.”

“You’re too sweet, much too sweet. I don’t deserve this.”

“You deserve at least the minimum, and I’m sorry that’s all I can provide right now.”

There was a knock at the door, Hajime peeking in a few seconds later, his eyes immediately landed on the position between Nagito and (Y/n). He rose a brow in question but didn’t bother vocalizing it, instead, he entered further, “Can I speak with you,” other than a fleeting glance, he didn’t bother acknowledging Nagito, “alone?”

(Y/n) nodded, gently maneuvering Nagito off her thighs and back onto the ground, she gave the boy a smile, “I’ll be back, okay?” at his nod, she left to the hall with Hajime.

“You okay? He hasn’t… tried anything, has he?” Hajime whispered the last part. Worry etched into each of the lines drawn within his face.

(Y/n) shook her head, placing her hands on each of the boy’s shoulders and enforcing eye contact between them, “I’m fine, Hajime, I can handle things.”

“If you’re sure,” he relented before going back to his original thought - the reason he was there, “Anyway, a new island opened up,” leaning in, he murmured, presumably so Monokuma didn’t hear, “Monomi destroyed the Monobeast blocking one off - apparently. I investigated it a bit already, it doesn’t appear particularly dangerous but I’m still wary. You should check it out too, maybe take a break from… him.”

“No, I’ll stay here,” (Y/n) denied, feeling her heart drag despair against her ribcage with every new pump, “I have to watch Nagito.”

Nobody else would.

Nobody else wanted to.

“It’s sort of my responsibility anyway, you know?” it’s her fault she couldn’t keep the peace, her one talent. The one thing she’s good at, “I need to make sure he doesn’t hurt anyone. And that nobody tries anything with him. Besides, you’re all doing fine now, right? You don’t need me.”

Who needed a worm who couldn’t perform in their own niche properly?

“It’d be nice to have you, to know you’re safe,” Hajime looked down at his shoes, pursing his lips, “If you really want to stay, I won’t stop you. But if anything, anything at all, happens, I’m here.”

It’s what she’d said to him that fateful day.

She smiled and nodded - empty and hollow - before reaching for the door handle to the room, “I will, Hajime. Don’t worry about me.”

As the boy turned to leave, (Y/n) watched his figure grow smaller against the walls before calling out once again,

“Keep them safe, please?”

He paused mid-stride, turning to the Ultimate Peacekeeper. His heart tore at her expression. Deep sorrow. Deep pain. Deep despair. He wasn’t stupid - she must’ve been blaming herself at least somewhat. All Hajime could do was nod and smile - empty and hollow - before continuing down the hall and out of the old building.

Returning to the room, (Y/n) was quiet, watching as Nagito hummed to himself, facing away from the door.

A particularly off-key hum brought her from her trance, the boy sighing to himself and shaking his head, “Of course…” before starting again.

(Y/n) swallowed down the lump in her throat before walking over to Nagito, gently settling him over her lap once again. It brought him minor comfort to know someone cared - even if he was unworthy.

“How do you feel about exploring the island tonight?”

“Hm? I thought you couldn’t untie me.”

“I can’t, not now, but at night - everyone’ll be asleep anyway, they won’t even know... but I’ll have to tie you back up.”

“Okay,” Nagito smiled slightly at the woman as she brushed hair out of his face, “I’ll be quiet.”

“Good,” she returned the gesture, “Then once we’re sure they’re all asleep, we’ll go.”

#insert coin #nagito komeada x reader #komaeda x reader #sdr2 x reader #sdr2 reader insert

[hargrove-mayfields]

Harringrove April Day 4- Roller-skates!

Steve isn’t much the jealous type, not by a long shot, but he doesn’t exactly like being shown up either.

Heather Holloway has a skating party for her 18th birthday in March, which, admittedly is something he thinks is more the speed for middle schoolers, but whatever, it’s not his scene.

Except Billy and Heather are the best of friends through circumstances nobody quite understood, and Billy wouldn’t let him not come as his plus one. He said it’d be fun, it’d be dark and they could hold hands while they skated, but Steve doesn’t even know how to skate.

It's not like he’s just bad at it either, he literally has no idea how to even start. The closest rink was a forty five minute drive out of Hawkins, a trip he had no one around to make with him as a kid, so he never had the chance to try it out.

Was he going to admit that to Billy when he kissed him on the cheek and asked if he could make it? Absolutely not. But once the day of the party rolls around, he’s realizing his mistake.

They’re already outside of the building when Steve asks, “Have you ever skated before, Bill?”

“Mhm, lots of times. Couldn’t get around the parks in California without knowing how.” Billy bumps him with his shoulder as they walk, “What about you, pretty boy? You ever had private rich boy lessons or something?”

His confidence is definitely overplayed in his response, a simple, “Sure.”

Something about how hastily he answers must tip Billy off to the fact that it’s a bold faced lie though, because he smiles and offers, “Don’t sweat it, Stevie. I’ll show you the ropes.”

When they get their skates, Steve tiptoes onto the rink, using the stoppers on the front so he can walk without the wheels, but when they’re out there Billy tells him to get down. The second all eight wheels are on the ground his legs almost go out from under him, but Billy’s right there to catch him by the waist.

They get him to where he can stand in one place pretty easily, so Billy tries to teach him how to move. He tells him it’s like walking without picking up your feet, but when Steve tries that, only one of his legs moves, and he would’ve done a split if Billy wasn’t there to hoist him back up.

He tells him to try to move both feet at once, but they just go out from under him. He tells him to hold onto something when he tries next time, so he grabs his hands, but he almost takes them both out when he falls the next time. Billy just laughs, likens him to a certain animated deer, and promises he’ll help him get better.

But the problem is that it is absolutely not the case, his promise to ‘show him the ropes,’ because then Heather’s skating over to them, making it look as easy as pie, and he’s tailing after her with a hollow promise to come back and help Steve in a few.

So now not only is he regretting this whole thing because he’s not that graceful when he tries it, but his boyfriend is getting dragged away from him too, leaving him to cling to the wall, alone, for dear life.

It’s not a skill that just comes naturally like Billy said it would, and it doesn’t get any easier, wiping out every two seconds while his friends did circles around him. Every time Steve thinks he has it he’s back on the hard floor and Billy’s nowhere to be found, off somewhere laughing with Heather, or skating with Heather, probably going on and on all about how Steve Harrington sucked with Heather.

After what must’ve been the hundredth time landing flat on his ass, Steve just, gives up. He unties the stupid skates and kicks them off, and storms off the rink, sliding in his socks a little on polished wood floors. He goes out through a service door, the bitter sting of tears in his eyes, to brood, since he was alone anyways.

It’s not even about jealousy at this point, it’s pure humiliation.

Because his boyfriend invited him here for what? Just to rub it in his face that he was talentless, and that he could always find someone better than him?

He feels stupid, sitting on the curb out back of the skating rink, crying his eyes out without even any shoes on, but that’s apparently what he’d sunken to. It’s no wonder Billy wanted to replace him.

Speaking of the devil, he hears the door swing open again and Billy say from behind him, “What are you doing out here, baby, it’s fucking freezing.”

He sits down beside him on the curb, rubbing his hands together against the chilly breeze, and he must see the leftover tears in his eyes, because he’s reaching out to wipe them away, and saying so sweetly, “Talk to me, Steve.”

“Take it to Heather. Maybe she’ll want to talk about it.” Steve isn’t in the mood, and he pushes Billy’s hand away, looking away when he sees the hurt that shows on his face. “Or-or should I call her princess too?”

“Why would I- wait, are you actually jealous?” Billy’s tone breaks, from being considerate and soft to accusatory, and it’s like another hole is punched right in Steve’s heart.

“What do you think?” He snaps at him, more defensive than he knows he should let himself be, “You two were hanging off of eachother all night and-and I was just in the corner falling on my ass every two seconds.”

“Yeah? Well, I’m sorry for spending time with my friend on her birthday. Sorry that everything’s a personal attack to you.”

“Oh, cut it with the ‘my friend.’ Everyone knows you guys are dating anyways.” Steve adds with a mumble, “Everyone but me I guess.”

Billy just scoffs, his voice rising with frustration at their back and forth, “Where did you even get that idea?”

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe from the way you look at her like she’s everything, and the way you spend more time with her than me. Maybe because you fucking, beam when you’re with her and treat me like I’m nothing!”

Even in the face of Steve’s outburst, Billy remains calm, and it makes Steve feel even more self conscious, until he says, “Steve. Heather Holloway is a lesbian.”

“She is?” Billy nods, and Steve exhales, shakes his head in disbelief, mostly with himself. The bubble of tension had officially popped, and left him feeling apologetic, “Why didn’t you tell me that in the first place?”

Simply, Billy answers, “I didn’t think I needed to.”

“You didn’t. I just- I’m paranoid.” He runs his fingers through his hair, and shakes his head, “God, I’m such an idiot. I’m sorry, B.”

“Nah, I’m sorry too. Should’ve been paying more attention to my Bambi.” Billy takes his hand, and they sit out in the silence for a while, just the brush of Billy’s thumb against Steve’s knuckles, the gentle spring breeze carrying away their problems with it. “Whaddya say we try again?”

“Will you hold my hand like you promised this time?”

“Well, I don’t know about that- “ He chuckles at the kicked puppy dog look Steve gives him, and puts an arm around his shoulder. “M’just teasin’ you, Stevie. ‘Course I will.”

Billy kisses the side of his head, and Steve lets his eyes flutter closed for just a minute. He tries not to beat himself up over it, they’d only been dating for a few months, and Billy knew he’d already been cheated on once, but he still feels bad, making a mountain out of a molehill.

But Billy’s not upset with him, he doesn’t see how he could be. He’s a womanizer to everybody but Steve, it’s not entirely his fault if he made assumptions. Billy stands up, and offers him his hand, “Now let’s get you back in there and show them what they’re missing, huh?”

#harringrove #harringroveapril #billy hargrove #steve harrington #heather holloway #story by ej! #ej writer #I have been roller skating exactly one time #for a decade themed birthday party #I dressed as cyndi lauper and spent the entire party on the floor #it was also like the most fun I’ve ever had somehow but like owie #also don’t really have the time to reread this because it’s easter so sorry if this sucks lol

[newmih]

“I never thought I'd be so happy to find you”

Newt x reader female! minho x reader (friends)

Bonne lecture! 

Y/N had been a runner for some time. However, she was still blaming herself for somehow forcing Minho's hand to become one.  It was tiring, dangerous and as if that wasn't enough, she was away from Newt all day long.  

Granted, they weren't dating, but who could blame her for finding the blonde attractive. Probably Gally... While she was in her thoughts, a noise woke her up: "Beep... Beep... Beep...". Her watch had just sounded 6:45 pm. It took Y/N a few seconds to realize the seriousness of the situation. The doors would close in a little more than 10 minutes.  She then began to accelerate the step. She didn't want to get stuck and have to spend a night inside the labyrinth when no one had managed to come back, finally in one piece.  They had all been killed by grievers . At the mere thought of them, a shiver ran down her back, due to her disgust and fear of monsters but also a sign of a bad omen.

There were only three corridors left to reach the exit when Y/N heard a noise. One of the most horrible sounds a runner has to hear while inside the walls. The doors were already starting to close. She started to run even faster, but because of a root that was lying around, she stumbled, lost her balance and fell. Still with the same eagerness, she got up. No time to insult her, she would do it another day. She finally got there, the last straight line, she put all the strength she had left.

"Y/N!!! Come on you gotta hurry! -Fucking Y/N we can't lose you!" The shouts of his friends encouraged him to continue.

When she finally arrived at the doors, the opening was already too narrow. If she was going to die, Y/N would rather do it fighting than being crushed. The last thing she saw between the doors was Newt's tearful face. It was the first time she'd seen him cry and she prayed it wouldn't be the last, though she much preferred it when he laughed.

The young woman sat down on the ground, tired from her run, and closed her eyes. She didn't open them again when she heard a scream from a non-human thing or when she heard metallic footsteps. She only opened them again when she heard someone shouting her name. She stood there in silence until she heard that cry again.

"Y/N! I don't know if you can hear me but if you can hear me run! Run and don't look back! And don't forget, run or die! "

Minho was always there to reassure her. The glader got up with difficulty and walked, she walked until she lost it. Suddenly, her shoe remained stuck to the ground and in spite of all the force that she put there, she did not succeed in removing it. She wondered then about the origin of what could stick her like that and had her answer by hearing another scream. Much more powerful and strong than the last time. It was getting closer. When she finally heard it in the next hallway, she tried to find a hiding place by looking around. Walls, walls, vines and more walls surrounded her. Her gaze returned to the vines and an idea crossed her mind. It was enough that she hid behind it while waiting for the griever to pass. She tried again to untie her shoe but it was a waste of time. Only one choice was offered to her now, well two: either she remained there and died, or she removed her foot of her shoe and had a little more chances to leave. After reflection, the second option was the best. However, as soon as she removed her foot from her boot, she realized that this was also a very bad idea. She retched violently because of the smell. But there was no time to vomit, she rushed to her hiding place and entered just as the monster was passing by in the hallway.From where she was, she saw its paws passing in front of her.

She had to find a better hiding place and for that, she had to get out of there.  She took her courage in both hands and got up. She approached her shoe and pulled with all her strength. She fell on her buttocks but managed to get it off. She was about to burst with joy when she felt a liquid running down her hair. She looked up to see a clawed man between the walls. She stood up in a panic and ran to escape the beast that was already on her tail. As she turned to the right, she tried to put her shoe back on, which she was still holding in her hand. Bad idea, she fell back on the ground and took the opportunity to put her shoes on.

When she finished, and stood up, she realized that she could only use a dead end because a second  griever had joined the chase. She tried not to show her fear. This was what the creators wanted so she wasn't going to give them the satisfaction. The creatures had slowed their steps as if to taunt her. Trying everything, she began to climb the wall. The ivy burned her hands, but she kept going anyway. The wall was actually a low wall and she reached the top faster than she thought possible.  

Y/N then prayed that the griever could not climb the walls, but apparently his prayers were not heard as the first one began to follow her. When she saw this, she turned around and despite her fatigue ran until she almost fell. She was now in front of an abyss and could not turn back. She could already see her life passing by when an idea came to her mind. Taking what little courage she had left, she turned to her attackers and shouted: "Hey, you grey scrap heap! Come over here if you're looking for me!"

And as if they had a conscience and had heard the young woman's call, they moved so fast that Y/N was at first surprised and then a smile settled on her face. Before one of them could touch her, she threw herself to the side, burning a rib as she passed. They had no time to brake and fell. She dragged herself to the edge to see their bodies turning into dots and then disappearing from her sight.

Finally, she turned on her back with a grimace and rested at last. After a few minutes of silence, she shouted a cry of joy. She had succeeded. The sun was starting to rise and she was still alive.

                                                     ...

Y/N may have managed to survive the night, but she was terribly tired. Only fear had kept her going until now. Yet she still had to find her way back. She was hungry, she felt dirty, she was hurt and she needed to hear his voice. She started walking again, dragging her feet.  She didn't even know what she was doing, she was completely lost. She had gone through the labyrinth in length and breadth, it had almost no secret for her. She kept on going anyway, the terror of having to spend a night inside again pushed her to continue.

She didn't know how long she had been looking for the glade, but it seemed like hours. Y/N was beginning to lose hope that she would ever find her way out when she recognized the root that had caused her to fall the day before. She breathed a sigh of relief, thanked the heavens and then, true to her promise, pointed her fingers at the plant. She shouted all sorts of insults for having made her spend the night in the labyrinth. She was so concentrated on her task that she did not hear the footsteps behind her.

"Y/N?"

The young woman was startled and turned around quickly to find Minho a few steps away from her. She ran towards him and jumped into his arms, so happy was she to find her friend.

"My god! You're fucking alive! You're still alive! You did it! We thought we would never see you again! How did you do? -I ran like you shouted at me last night. Thank you because I think I would have died without your wise counsel. Although you didn't exactly make me feel better.

He smiled and put her back down on the floor.

"Come on, let's get back to the glade. We definitely need to break the news to the others."

Y/N followed him without answering but suddenly she collapsed to the ground. Tiredness got the better of her and the knowledge that everything would be all right for her finished her off. Minho's worried face appeared above her and without her having to say a word, he stooped down and took her in his arms.  

The rest of the way went on without a word. Y/N had fallen asleep. Once they arrived at the glade, the Asian went directly to the infirmary, ignoring the questions of the other gladers.

[...]

When Y/N finally woke up, she found a blond man drooling on her hand. She thought the scene was cute and wanted to stay there and watch him for a while longer, but he finally woke up. The young woman saw at first a gleam of incomprehension passing in the glance of Newt then he made a grimace while rubbing his face. This one took advantage of it to wipe discreetly the hands on the sheet.

He finally looked her in the eye and asked:

"How do you feel? -Like someone who just spent a night awake. You know the grievers aren't so bad, I could almost adopt one, almost.  "

The desperate look that her friend gave her was understandable. By dint of hanging out with Minho, he had ended up rubbing off on her. The blond repeated his question with a more serious and worried tone. Then Y/N decided to tell him the truth.

"I never thought I'd be so happy to be back on the block." Then taking courage she added: "To find you."

His last sentence took Newt unprepared and he turned into a fish. His head made her laugh which caused him a violent coughing fit. Pulling himself together quickly, he brought a glass of water to the young woman.

"You must have caught a cold or something. It gets cold at night in the maze." He paused and Y/N thought for a moment that he was going to dodge the conversation that was to take place. "I'm glad to have you back too. The truth is, I don' t know if I would have survived losing you."

This time, it was Y/N's turn to be speechless. She would never have believed that Newt cared so much about her. Newt continued to speak without noticing that the girl he loved had come closer to him. After having understood that nobody was immortal and that death could touch anyone at any time, he had decided to confess everything to the one of his heart.

"... I saw you and I thought you were beautiful right away. I wanted to get closer to you but Minho was already there. You became very close very quickly so I thought... I thought you were dating. Because you are both my friends, I didn't dare to tell you.  It would have been really horrible of me to..." His tirade was cut off by a pair of soft lips on hers. Surprised at first, he didn't respond immediately, but eventually, he let go.

The two finally broke apart due to the lack of air and Newt rested his forehead on Y/N's. They smiled at each other. They smiled at each other. The silence was comfortable, no one needed to talk, that was it. They loved each other and they would never let go.

#the maze runner #x reader #le labyrinthe #the death cure #le remède mortel #la terre brûlée #the scorch trials #thomas #newt #minho #alby #gally #chuck #paige #teresa

[ezzydean]

tell me

for @notsuchasecret

i love you 

Mattsun scrunches his nose up in a way that Tooru does not find adorable — except for all ways he finds it disgustingly adorable — and gives Tooru an almost betrayed look as he sets down Tooru’s coffee cup.

“Since when do you like blueberry cappuccino?”  Mattsun licks at his lips and scowls, clearly trying to get rid of the flavor.  “Since when do you like blueberry anything?”

“It’s not like I hated it or anything.”

“You did when you were sixteen.”

Tooru scoffs and takes a sip of his cappuccino.  “I hated a lot when I was sixteen.  People, places, things.  Thankfully it was temporary and I got over most of it.”

“You never hated me,” Mattsun teases.  Tooru sets down his cup with a soft sigh.  He can feel Mattsun’s gaze and he forces himself to meet it.  “Or did you?”

“Not something I’m super proud of but, for at least a little while, yeah I did hate you.”

Mattsun’s gaze flickers around his face.  “You’re serious,” he finally says.

Tooru nods.

Sixteen had not been a good year for him.  Then again seventeen had been a bit of a crushing blow and eighteen had been a nightmare of hard work and an aching body that sometimes felt three times as old as it was.  But sixteen… sixteen sucked.  There’s no nicer way to say it.  He told Mattsun that he hated a lot when he was sixteen and he did.  But it would have been more accurate to tell Mattsun that he hated everything when he was sixteen; his family, his friends, his body, school, volleyball you name it he hated it that year.

He finishes his cappuccino and is rinsing his cup out in the sink when Mattsun finally speaks again.

“I didn’t realize,” Mattsun says quietly.  “I mean I noticed some things that you were suddenly very opinionated about but I didn’t realize that—”  He stops talking suddenly and Tooru glances over his shoulder.  Mattsun is still looking at him but his eyes are a little glazed like maybe he’s looking at Tooru but seeing sixteen year old Tooru instead.  “Oh,” he breathes out.

“Yeah.”

Hajime may have been his best friend since they were kids but that just meant that he sometimes had blinders on when it came to Tooru.  Oh sure he could put his foot down and even now he’s one of the few people who can chastise Tooru with nothing more than a stern look.  But Hajime didn’t always notice the smaller things which, at sixteen, was one of the reasons Tooru hated him for a little while.

Coincidentally noticing those smaller things was the reason that Tooru had hated Mattsun for that same little while.

“I did realize,” Mattsun says softly.

“You did.”

“I just didn’t realize you were serious about it.”

“I don’t think anyone did,” Tooru says airily as he dries off his cup and puts it away.  “And I’m pretty sure you and my sister were the only ones who even noticed enough to call me out on any of it anyway.”

“Is that supposed to be reassuring?  You were a giant miserable mess but oh it was okay because nobody else took it seriously either.  Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

“Why are you getting so upset?”  Tooru leans against the counter and crosses his arms across his chest defensively at Mattsun’s tone.

“Why am I?  Tooru.  You.”  Mattsun runs his hands down his face and lets out a disbelieving laugh that twists something in Tooru’s chest so sharply he’s a little afraid something just broke in there.

He watches Mattsun shake his head and look up like he’s asking some higher power for guidance and wonders if Mattsun is still in love with him even after all these years.  It’s been a constant in his life for nearly two decades now.  No matter what else is going on in his life he’s always known three things for sure: Iwa-chan is his best friend, his mother’s favorite fruit is peaches, and Mattsun is in love with him.

“Why are you here, Tooru?”  He startles at the question.  At Mattsun’s tone.  At the way Mattsun is studying him.

“What do you mean?  I retired.  I came home.”

“Not here in general.”  Mattsun waves behind himself, gesturing to the apartment as he says, “Here as in: in case you missed it this is my apartment, not yours.”

That something in his chest twists again and this time he’s surprised Mattsun doesn’t seem to hear the sound of it snapping in two.

“Home has never really been a place for me, Mattsun.  It’s always been a handful of people.”  

Tooru spins the ring on his pointer finger idly, staring down at the dark band as he wills his anxiety to cooperate, to not drag him under.  He takes a deep breath, refusing to meet Mattsun’s eyes and he lets out an airy laugh and heads out of the kitchen.  He grabs the few things he had left laying around Mattsun’s apartment and shoves them into his duffel bag.  He had gotten used to not really unpacking things since he left after high school.  He was never entirely sure when he’d be leaving, was always looking out the windows at the sky and twitching with a need to go.  To move.

To run.

He can feel Mattsun’s gaze on him the entire time and it makes him calm and restless in equal measure, something that Mattsun has always been good at.

He’s sitting in front of the door attempting to untie his shoes, duffel bag on the floor next to him, when he feels more than hears Mattsun come to a stop behind him.

“Leaving already?”

Tooru snorts, yanking at the knot in his shoelace.  “Well you made it abundantly clear that I’m not welcome here.”  He curses softly as his shoelace just gets more knotted and tangled.  “So I’m going.”

Mattsun plucks the shoe from his hands and after a minute he holds it in front of Tooru’s face, lace knot-free, and wiggles it when Tooru doesn’t take it right away.  Tooru huffs at him and grabs the shoe.  But he doesn’t put it on right away.  Because the thing is.  He doesn’t want to leave.  He doesn’t want to go back to his empty apartment across the city where he’s barely unpacked despite being back for almost a month now.  He doesn’t want to go and stare at his blank walls and pretend he isn’t ignoring calls from his mother and avoiding Hajime and, for once in his life, hoping nobody recognizes him when he steps outside in the morning.

“I never said that and you know it.  You know what I mean, Tooru.  You always have.”  

He does.  He knows what Mattsun means.  Just like he knows Mattsun loves him.  Just like he knows that clouds go in the sky and ice melts when it’s hot.  He knows.  That doesn’t mean he has any idea what to do with that knowledge.

“What do you want from me?”  He hates how defeated he sounds.  How unsure of everything he sounds.  

He is unsure.  Of almost everything.  But that doesn’t mean he’s okay with people seeing it.

“That depends.”  

He wants to turn around and look at Mattsun.  Or lean backwards and peer up at him.  Or maybe curl into a ball and disappear from the world for a little bit.  He wants a lot of things.  But he already got one of the biggest things he’s ever wanted in life when he went to Argentina for volleyball.  How can he even think about asking for more?

“What does it depend on?”

“Are you going to go halfway across the world again?  Leave everything behind and chase after a dream?”

Pure anger chokes him for a moment, memories of all the people who had told him his dreams were silly or pointless or out of reach suddenly threatening to overwhelm him.  Memories of everyone who had told him he’d never make it.  That he’d never be good enough.  Teachers and coaches and teammates and doctors and fellow students.  

“I didn’t just chase my dream.  I caught it.  I held it in my hands,” he bites out.  “So don’t judge me because you stayed here and putzed yourself into a job at a funeral home.”

Mattsun’s fingers dig into his scalp for a second before running through his hair.  “Again.  I never said that.”

Tooru lets out a shaky breath as his anger vanishes.  It’s always amazed him how easily Mattsun can do that; a simple brush of fingers or bumped shoulder and Tooru settles into his own skin again.  He anchors Tooru, grounds him in a way no one else has ever managed.

“I don’t plan on leaving again,” Tooru whispers.

“Good.  Not that I didn’t want you to chase your dreams.  I did.  I do.  Even if you decided tomorrow to go off again I’d support you.”

Thoughts of leaving flicker through his mind.  Images of places he’s been and places he could go.  Memories of being offered coaching spots and public speaking opportunities.  A couple years ago, a couple months ago, hell a couple weeks ago they sounded tempting.  Now they just sound exhausting.

He’s exhausted.

“So.  What do you want from me, Mattsun?”

“I want you to stay.”  Mattsun settles onto the floor behind him.  He’s a warm weight against Tooru’s back as he wraps his arm’s around Tooru’s waist and tugs him back enough to hook his chin over Tooru’s shoulder.  “You went and you caught your dreams and now you’re back.  I want the chance to catch my dreams.  I want you to stay.  Here.”

Tooru leans back against Mattsun’s chest.

“Here as in your apartment?”

“Here as in this city.  Here as in my life in general, if that’s all I can get.  But if I had it my way?  Here in my apartment.”  He squeezes Tooru and sighs.  “In my arms.”

If there was an Olympic event for most emotional whiplash moments in the span of five minutes he’d definitely be medaling.  Maybe not gold.  But definitely at least a bronze medal.  Because any trace of anger is long gone and his heart feels about seven sizes too big to properly fit in his chest right now.  With Mattsun pressed against his back, breath warm against his cheek, Tooru feels balanced for the first time in a very long time.  

Mattsun has always been waiting for him.  Not in a stagnant way or anything.  Mattsun has lived his own life, has had his fair share of ups and downs and experiences.  But he’s always had a place for Tooru at his side, in his life.  Just waiting for the day Tooru came back.

He can stay planted on the ground and stare up at the night sky without worrying what would happen if he floated off into that fathomless ether.  Because he could shoot off into space, rocket around among the stars a bit, and never feel the slightest bit lost.  He knows that Mattsun will never tie him down, will never drag him under the surface, anchored to the point of drowning.  But he’ll always be there.

Mattsun is his map, his compass, his North Star.

“Do you still love me, Issei?”  Tooru swallows down all his worries and licks the fear from his lips.  His dreams of pro volleyball are his past and Mattsun is his future.  A future that he’s pretty sure will be bright enough to outshine even the sun   one day.  “Are you still in love with me?”

“Yes.”

He closes his eyes and relaxes back into Mattsun’s arms, body boneless and soul drifting free.  

“I missed you,” he admits softly.  “Even when I was on top of the world and had my dreams right there in front of me.  I missed you.”

He can’t say that he’s in love with Mattsun.  Not yet.  But he knows Mattsun understands and he’ll get there eventually.

They have the rest of forever, after all.

#haikyuu #OiMatsu #oikawa tooru #matsukawa issei #OiMatsu fic #hq writing

[sheerbeautyreigns]

Have yourself a kinky little Christmas 🎄🎁

One shot - Roman (Joe) and Drew have a festive fuck at the Christmas Party.

Joe groaned sinking back into the comfy armchair of his private locker room. He had just come from the main event of a physical TLC match with Kevin. He had already been to get checked by the trainer and luckily it was just a few bumps and bruises.

Thankfully this would his last show before the Christmas break. Paul was elsewhere catching up with Vince. As he started getting this things together, his phone rang. He swallowed seeing that it was Drew. “Hey,” he said softly in his Scottish accent. “Are you still joining us at the Hilton?”

“Yeah, I was just going to freshen up and see you guys there.” Joe told him, kicking off his boots. He already felt relieved. “It’ll be good to grab a few drinks before Christmas. It’s been a while.” Drew always had a friendly nature about him. He got on with everyone in the locker room whereas Joe kinda kept himself to himself. “I know.” Joe nodded. He wasn’t much of a drinker these days. “I’ll let you know when I’m on my way. Its not far from here anyway so I’ll be like 30 minutes or so.”

It was about 11 when Joe went down to the bar. He had opted to wear a charcoal coloured suit and a black shirt. The bar was as busy as he had expected. Familiar smiles greeted him as he made his way to the bar. He made small talk with a few people before Drew caught up with him. “I thought I would have to fight Ric for your attention.”

Joe smirked, taking a sip of his wine. “Once he starts talking…” Joe looked him over. He looked good in his navy suit. “How you doing?” Drew asked cautiously. They hadn’t really been in touch outside of work matters for a while. “Good. It’s just been so busy since I came back. I’m getting used to it.”

“It’s been better since you returned. The moral has changed. It’s been a pretty weird year. It’s almost a year since we-“  Drew started “I know.” Joe responded, casting his eyes downwards before taking another sip of his drink. “Sorry, It’s a bit awkward talking about it here.” Drew observed their surroundings “We could talk somewhere…quieter…if that’s what you prefer.” The Scot suggested. “I just got here.” He could see it made Joe uncomfortable, talking about this in amongst their work colleagues. “So?” Drew smirked. “Tell you what. I’ll text you my room number. I want you to meet me up there in 30 minutes after you’ve done a little mingling. Just so it’s not obvious.” With that, he walked off and started doing a little mingling of his own.

Joe could feel butterflies as he waited outside Drew’s hotel room. Thankfully, nobody was around. The door swung open. Drew looked him in the eyes and held the door open. He was just wearing his shirt and trousers now. He watched attentively as Joe walked in, watching his every move. “I wasn’t sure if you’d actually come.”

“What do you mean?” Joe asked, stopping behind the sofa. “I think we both know what’s bound to happen if we’re alone together.” There was something very self assured about the way Drew carried himself that made Joe hang on to his every word. Before he could even speak, Drew was already motioning for him to remove his suit jacket. “That’s better.” He took Joe’s jacket and set it on the back of a nearby chair. “Take off your shoes.” Joe did as told. With every move Drew made, Joe could feel his heart beating faster. “Eleven months has been far too long since I had you.” Joe smiled at those words. Had it actually been that long. The celebratory fuck after Drew won the Rumble. “That was a good night, from what I remember.”

Drew stood in front of him and placed his hands on Joe’s chest. “I couldn’t wait to work with you again last month. Get my hands on you…” Joe’s eyes trailed down to where Drew was unbuttoning his shirt. He tilted his head in a way that told the Scot that he wanted to kiss him but Drew continued unbuttoning. Lust filled his blue eyes as he spread his hands across Joe’s exposed chest before he lowered the shirt down Joe’s arms, allowing it to drop to the ground. Joe couldn’t wait any longer. He leaned forward and brushed his lips against Drew’s until he gripped his hand around his neck, easing him off. “Sorry.” Joe apologised. “Now, you should know better how I do things.” Drew said firmly looking him dead in his gorgeous brown eyes, leading Joe to nod. Drew smirked, letting go of his neck and turning his attention to unbuckling his belt. “I can already see how hard you are for me.” Joe blushed at his words as he slid the belt off and set it aside. “It’s been so long…” Joe started. “Too long. This can be a Christmas gift for both of us.” A small laugh left Drew as soon as he said that. Joe didn’t care how silly he sounded. He just cared about Drew fucking him senseless.

His dick grew harder with every movement he made to remove Joe’s trousers. After he’d discarded them he looked into Joe’s eyes and ran his hand over the material of his black Calvins. “I want you to fuck me so bad.” Joe breathed, resting his hand on Drew’s. “Look at you. The anticipations killing you isn’t it?” Drew could be a cocky shit when he wanted to. He knew he could get away with it when it came to Joe. He was like putty in his hands. It’d always been that way between them. His eyes widened as he slid the material of his boxers down over his muscular thighs. “Big Dog indeed.”

“You’ll have my cock inside you, don’t worry.” He kissed Joe, wrapping his arms around him, motioning him towards the bed. The Samoan stumbled back, falling onto the mattress below. “On all fours.” Joe did as Drew instructed. He looked over his shoulder and watched keenly as Drew undressed. He too was rock hard. Joe watched intently as he grabbed the lube from the bedside cabinet and squeezed it onto his hand. He felt Drew’s weight shift onto the bed behind him.

He shut his eyes as the cool lube made contact with his skin. Drew smeared it over his entrance before inserting two fingers. Joe shut his eyes and exhaled with pleasure at the touch. “You’re so tight.” Drew observed. “It’s…been a while.”

“How long?” The Scot enquired. “Nobody since you.” Joe panted as Drew fingered him harder. “That’s what I like to hear.”

“Please fuck me. I can’t wait any longer.” Joe asked, looking around at him. “As you wish.” He withdrew his fingers and lined the head of his cock up against Joe’s opening. “Aaah fuck-“ Joe breathed, remembering how girthy Drew was. A low groan came from Drew’s throat as he focused on the task at hand. He was trying to be gentle. Joe focused on taking long, deep breaths, trying to relax his muscles. “What’s the matter big boy? Having a change of heart?” Drew was trying to provoke him. “Fuck you.” He growled. This angered Drew slightly so he decided he was going to have his wicked way with him. He grabbed a nearby red tie that had been lying on the bed and grabbed both Joe’s arms, placing his wrists behind his back. “Hey what are you doing?” Joe was confused. He knew Drew liked to have the upper hand but this was new. “Let’s have some festive fun. I’ve always wanted to do this. For me?” Joe hesitated a moment before agreeing. With a smile, Drew bound his wrists together. “Try to get out of that.”

He smiled as Joe struggled, to no avail. “You’ve no idea how fucking sexy you look right now.” Joe turned his head to the side and tried to look back at Drew, but he couldn’t. “Funny because I don’t feel it.”

“Hush up.” Drew told him as he dripped more lube on his cock and Joe’s opening. Thankfully he was able to slide in with more ease this time. “Fuck!” Joe let out as Drew began to fuck him. He steadied his hands on Joe’s pelvis, steadying his body as he thrust into him time and time again. Joe shifted about below on the bed, struggling against the impact of Drew’s relentless fucking and the fact that he was defenceless. It was a totally different feeling than any other time they’d been together. The Scot was well and truly in control. “I’m gonna cum so hard in your sweet hole boy.” Drew proclaimed grabbing Joe’s ass and squeezing it hard, causing Joe to yelp. Drew laughed aloud, slamming in one last time, cumming hard. They cried out in unison as Drew forced Joe further into the mattress. He loosened his grip on him before pulling out. Joe breathed heavily, turning his head to the side. As soon as Drew got off him he lowered down next to Joe. “Fucking hell, that was intense.” He said palming his forehead. “Mind untying me now?’ Joe said straining his arms. “I don’t know. I kinda like you like that.”

“I swear to god, if you don’t-“ Joe scowled. “Jesus man, chill out.” He kneeled up on the bed and went about untying his wrists. Joe winced, turning over on his back. He looked a little dishevelled. “You’ve changed.”

“What do you mean?” Drew asked, now laying next to him, propped up by his elbow. “Well, I didn’t realise you had a kinky side.”

“What can I say. I like a bit of variety. Maybe I can surprise you another time?” He smirked before leaning down to kiss him. "Merry Christmas."

#roman reigns #tribal chief #wwe #drew mcintyre #fic #Smut #One shot #Merry Christmas

[ears-awake-eyes-opened]

Toasting

(Hayffie 💕. Loving when we’re afraid is deeply authentic courage. In dystopian reality, loving with arms holding one another close is a fundamental act of civil disobedience and essential for trauma integration.)

His fingers were clumsy as he wrapped a pale blue ribbon around Effie’s hair. She’d pulled it back loosely into a bun with tendrils coiling down the back of her neck. Working with the satin ribbon felt alien compared to the knots Haymitch had tied throughout his life.

In childhood, as soon as he was tall enough to reach the clotheslines, his mother had given him the job of pulling the lines tight and tying them with no slack. Those needed to be ready each week for the task of holding the family’s clean laundry up to the sun. He and his brother were scolded sometimes for playing underneath the damp sheets, which held the fragrance of springtime no matter the season. It must have been the dried flowers his mother put into the soap. Later on and still, each time he passed those flowers in the Meadow, their smell cut straight into his heart. It’s one of the reasons he’d steered clear of that place even before it became a mass grave.

Unlike the pungent flowers, his mother’s voice calling as they played was a faint memory. “If you boys tug those lines down, YOU will be the ones washing that laundry all over again!”

“Those are MY knots. They ain’t gonna be comin’ loose.”

“Your knots WILL NOT be cominG loose, you mean. Don’t allow your speech to conceal your intelligence.”

“Okay, Ma.” He said as he and his brother lay on the grass, sticking their tongues out to catch drips from the sheets like drops of rain at the end of a sunshower.

The clotheslines were made of twine. Haymitch learned to work with thicker rope during training before the Quell. It never took him long to learn something, and once he did, it was committed to memory. In time, having a mind too sharp to forget things had become more of a curse than a gift.

Suddenly here he was with delicate ribbon between his calloused fingertips, and the fine muscles there were forgetting everything they’d ever learned about tying.

“I’m kind of fucking this up, sweetheart. I’m usually UNtying your ribbons, not the other way around.”

“I trust you.” She kept her body still as she knelt on a rug in front of the fireplace. 

When the ribbon was tied, he adjusted the bow until the loops were even. Then he ran his fingers through her wispy curls.

“Your ‘something blue,’” he murmured, sliding his hand down her arm and lacing their fingers together.

She stared at the polished band on her left hand. “Something old...” Haymitch’s father had made the ring 50 years prior from a small metal disk and some tinkering tools.

Effie brought their entwined hands to rest on her stomach. “...And something new.”

A chill ran through him. “Maybe you should have a backup just in case—“

“Do NOT say that! Don’t even THINK it. I’m further along this time. No arguments... our baby is my something new.”

He held her tighter and kissed her neck in apology. “All right. The baby it is.”

She changed the subject before the unspoken word had a chance to start spinning in her mind. “The tongs from the bakery are ‘something borrowed.’”

“Did Peeta ask what you planned to do with them?”

“Yes.”

“What’d you tell him?”

“I said we’ll be using them to toast the loaf of bread that I was there to buy.”

“Shit, Effie. What’d he say?”

“He hugged me, and told me how very happy he was to give us the bread and lend us the tongs.”

“Let me guess... His eyes were all teary.”

“That dear boy.”

“And your eyes were all teary too.”

“Whenever the children cry, I can’t stop myself.”

“He knows now, of course. I thought we we’re keeping this a surprise!”

“I confirmed nothing.”

“The boy knows anyway. You two are thick as thieves.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I’m sure he will ACT surprised when we tell them.”

“So the kids already know. It’s fine. ...Are you ready to do this?”

“Absolutely.” She nodded.

“...With ME,” he teased.

“Come here.” He’d been curled against her back, and she tugged him to kneel beside her. “We’ve done this before, you know.”

“Have we?” He chuckled, “I doubt any amount of liquor would make me forget doing this with you.”

“I was 8, with an big imagination and—“

“That kid on those screens is long gone, honey. You know that better than anybody.”

She pressed her palm to his chest. “This heart is the same. They broke it a thousand times, but they didn’t destroy it. ...I draped a shawl over my head as a veil, and I swore on every doll I owned that nobody would take this heart from me. I’ve kept swearing it... no matter how many pairs of my shoes you vomited on.”

He brushed his thumb along her cheek. “I married you sometimes in my dreams.”

“Does that explain any of the occasions you woke up screaming?” She smirked then caressed his forearm because nightmares were never a light topic regardless of the context.

“No. But it explains the times I woke up with my dick so hard that all I did was move and I was coming.”

She flushed from her chest to her cheeks, wanting him like that right then. “When was the first time?”

“The night after the picnic. Remember? In my dream you were wearing those silky lace gloves, buttering warm chunks of bread with one hand and getting me off with the other.”

“We only spent a few hours together that day, and you dreamed you were marrying me? You hardly knew me.”

“I knew enough to feel you slipping inside me. I tried to fight it a long time, but I couldn’t stop it.”

“So... now it’s full surrender.”

“Being married won’t make this any easier,” he said, “The last thing you and I could ever be is easy.”

“When is anything worth doing easy to do?”

He traced the neckline of her dress with the tip of his finger. The pretty thing dipped so low that he could have slipped his hands inside and filled his palms with her breasts. But he waited. The dress was pale blue like the ribbon, and overlaid with a weaving of tiny pearls.

“Sex,” he answered belatedly, “It’s one thing worth doing that’s always been easy for us.”

She toyed with a button on the shirt she’d picked out for him. “That’s true. Let’s make a fire and toast that bread so we can do that other thing worth doing.”

Haymitch had said no Justice Building, no party, and no singing. So Effie softly hummed the tune she remembered from Katniss and Peeta’s marriage ceremony. She hummed it straight through as Haymitch laid tinder on the andiron and she stacked kindling around it in the shape of a teepee. Then he built a small cabin over that with dry wood. She struck a match and used it to light the one he held. They both lit the tinder and watched as each piece of wood caught fire.

Over the years, she’d started many fires in that fireplace. The first time she tried, Haymitch had passed out in a snowbank on his way home from the Hob. A neighbor saw him lying there and helped him home.

After a warm bath, he was still shaking, so Effie covered him with blankets in front of the fireplace, and she managed to get some flames going as he slept. Her fire died out quickly, so she called the kids to show her the way. Katniss came. “I’m glad you’re here,” the girl told her, “He needs you. He fights it, but it’s a fierce thing to fight against.”

“What is?” Effie asked.

“That kind of hunger. That hollowness that only one thing can fill...” Katniss tapped Haymitch’s foot with the toe of her boot. He was out cold. “Alcohol just covers it up for a moment as it’s passing through.”

“What fills it?”

“When he realizes he’s worth loving, and when he loves himself the way that you love him.”

Effie shuddered at the thought of everything her girl had been through that instilled that kind of knowing in someone so young. “Katniss, I haven’t said anything about love.”

“Good. Hearing you say it would only scare him more.”

Effie said it now as chunks of wood burned down to coals, and flames danced orange and blue. He saw the dance in her eyes. “I love you,” was still difficult for him to reckon with.

“Loving you is the only thing I’ve been sure about in a long time,” he responded as the truth rose up over fear.

“Show me.”

He picked up the loaf of bread with the bakery tongs. “Let’s do this together.”

She put her hands atop his as they toasted the bread over the fire. When the crust was golden brown, they turned the loaf out onto a cutting board.

Effie slipped an oven mitt onto her hand and held the bread with it as she cut a thick slice from the middle. Then she spread it generously with butter, like in Haymitch’s dream. He picked up the slice and broke it in half, holding onto both pieces.

She eyed him warily. “Are you going to smear that on my face?”

“This isn’t the Capitol, sweetheart. No marriage tradition here wastes even a speck of food. ...But I’ll smear butter anywhere you want as long as I get to suck it off you after.”

“Let’s save that for later when I’m not wearing my Nana’s dress.”

He handed her half of the slice and they fed each other, licking the butter from one another’s fingers.

“My heart is yours,” she said, “It always has been, and I swear that’s never changing.”

“Keep swearing, honey, because nobody and nothing’s going to take mine from you either.”

Their kiss was slow, starting at the corners of their mouths, tasting the salty seams of each other’s lips, and opening to the sweetness that only comes with deep familiarity.

“Oh—“ She startled without breaking away. “Butterfly wings! The baby woke up. It must like the bread.”

Haymitch wiped his hands on a towel near the cutting board, then he cradled the bump on Effie’s belly. She cleaned her hands too so she could guide him to the rapid flutter.

He soaked up the movement. With the one they buried, he didn’t get to feel this. They never got to feel her alive. “This one’s strong already.”

Effie simply nodded because she knew if she said anything, then joy would spill from her eyes, and she wanted to keep it all.

“...Strong like my wife,” he said.

Joy spilled regardless, even in silence. Her tears were saltier than the butter, and he kissed every drop. The sunshower was beginning.

#let me just 😭😍 #HayffieFics #hayffie #hayffie fanfiction #effie x haymitch #haymitch x effie #haymitch abernathy #effie trinket #thg #thg fanfiction #peeta mellark #katniss everdeen #district 12 #effies nana #hayffie baby #the hunger games #hunger games #toasting #my last hayffie fic I think #I wrote this to try to say goodbye #thank you to everyone who cares about these characters #saying goodbye #hunger games reread

[hereisleo]

since nobody has req oneus yet,, keonhee + tying shoelaces!

w/ l.kh

g/ mutual pining

w.count/ 942

a.n/ [romantics era team]: we hope it is up to your expectations! we will add ‘keep reading’ cut later.

t.w/ none, a few curses but that’s it

You never know what to expect from Keonhee. He keeps you on your toes every day. Today is not an exception. You truly wonder what is running on his mind when a series of texts late at night or early in the morning, depending on who’s talking, almost vibrates your phone off the bed.

[keon hee-hee 01:09]

hey you up?

answer me

hello

youre not dead right?

aww cmon!

lets go!

im bored!

im outside your door

‘Outside your door,’ he said? You kick off the blanket, sock feet sliding around the smooth flooring as you rush past the living room. The obnoxious knocking on your door reaches your ear, “Hurry up!” If he wakes up the entire floor, you’re going to die of embarrassment. Most of the residents are the elderly and you don’t want a talking from them, no matter how gentle, some of them gruff, they are.

You open the slightly creaky brown metal door, Keonhee flinches mid-knock. Before he could utter another word, you pull him inside by his sleeve, hissing harshly, “Are you trying to wake up all the grams and gramps?” You pinch his arm. He yelps and rubs the abused area with a whine, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to.” A moment goes by and a burst of barely veiled laughter rumbles in his throat, he takes his time to actually look at you. “You’re so cute! Like a little bear!” He pats your head and you smack his hand. “Oww! Little bear is angry!” He is way too fond of you. “What do you want, Keonhee?”

A grin appears on his face. Heavens, he’s handsome, the way his lips slope upward and the way the bags under his eyes add so much character to his face. The boyish charm appears to taunt you whenever he decides to make you question your sanity. No, you definitely do not have feelings for Lee Keonhee. The reasonable part of your brain snides, you’re in denial. “Let’s go out!” Your heart hammers against your ribcage. He doesn’t mean what you think the phrase means, does he? Keonhee tilts his head, “The playground?” Ah, shit. Of course, it’s the playground. This is why you shouldn’t jump to conclusions, there’s a nasty emotion brewing in your chest. Hurt. You nod silently, blindly reaching for whatever jacket is hanging on the rack and slipping on the beat-up white sneakers. It’s no longer white, it’s just dirty.

He has that wistful smile on his face and he crouches down in the cramped entrance. You shuffle back a little, giving him some room for movement not wanting him to smack the small of his back against the sharp edge of the mail slot. Occasionally, he makes you wonder why he likes your small apartment so much. Small but a precious home, it’s all you can afford. “Stay still,” he reaches for your foot, no, your shoelace. The dirty strings loop around his fingers. You like Keonhee’s hands, they’re big and warm, his fingers delicately slender and long. You will never tell him that, he won’t live it down. “There!” A loop around his finger and a little pull, a perfect bow rest atop of your shoe. It’s always the left side.

Keonhee doesn’t judge people by their appearance. He doesn’t care if you are out in public with your green and red plaid pyjamas that makes you look like Paddington Bear and nor does he care that your windbreaker clashes horribly with said pyjamas. He has a habit of linking his arm with yours and whines when you let go. He would pout with a, “You’re so cold,” then proceed to annoy you with a barrage of cute acts until you relented and let him link his arm again. You hear his excited gasp and drags you into a jog, the swings are empty.

It truly has been a while since you sit in the swings. The chains suspending the seat left a sharp iron scent on your hands. You and Keonhee have to cross your legs and tuck it under the seat, Keonhee letting his legs spear into the air. Both of you are too tall for the children’s swings set. By routine you know, a convenience store sojourn will follow after the two of you get your fill of childhood nostalgia. Sound waves of words resonate into space. You could listen to Keonhee talks all day but at night, there’s mellowness and grittiness in the words he speaks. He glances at you, wondering if you’re listening and finding your attention fixed on him. You didn’t expect him to catch you in your infatuation.

There’s so much adoration in his eyes when he meets your gaze, sparkling like the city lights in the distance. You could feel the flip-flop of butterfly wings in your stomach, the way your heart constricts almost painfully and the words diminish from your tongue. Ah. You’re done for. Keonhee doesn’t say anything as he stands, arms winding around you loosely, pulling you off the creaky swings. He keeps you close yet willing to let you escape at the same time. Damn him for making you feel this way. Damn him for understanding that you might not be ready. Damn shoelace for always untying itself. You curl your hands on his sides, the fabric of his t-shirt bunching under your grips. The previously perfect tied ribbon resting atop of your shoe is untied again, mocking you for your feelings. You lean your forehead against his chest, he lets you hide, his hold tightening a touch and chin resting on the crown of your head.

“Your shoelace is untied.”

#romantics era #l.kh #lee keonhee #keonhee #oneus #keonhee imagines #keonhee scenarios #keonhee drabbles #keonhee blurbs #oneus imagines #oneus scenarios #oneus drabbles #oneus blurbs #hereisleo

[deputyrhiannonhale]

Nodus Tollens Chap 3

(ooc) here is the third installment of my story! Same general tags apply, especially canon-game violence and strong language.

chapter 1 chapter 2

tagging: @ja-crispea @dieguzguz @f0xyboxes @shelliechen @returnofthepd3 @deputy-janai @deputyjessicaquinn @xbaebsae @veinereastath @sharky-broshaw @shallow-gravy @ec-10 @hopecountygazette @ramadiiiisme

~~

Rhi was on an ATV flying down the road putting as much distance as she could between herself and the Holland Valley. She was well aware that if John wants her there, he’s definitely got a way to get her there. Tom was nice enough to tell her the way off Dutch’s island, but said he would rather stay back and make sure Dutch stays covered. Rhi thanked him for his help and made her departure.

Her hazel eyes were now searching the sides of the road for any dangers, animal or otherwise when she spotted another person on their knees in front of a cult member. She pulled out her gun, firing a warning shot before skidding to a stop nearby. Gunshots whizzed by near her head and she cursed as she tumbled off the ATV and she hid behind the tree, taking deep breaths. A warning shot was the wrong method to use, she realized now, it’s becoming glaringly obvious that she is going to have to shoot to kill everytime and that epiphany caused Rhi to sigh heavily. 

Rhi peeked around the trunk in time to see the woman she was trying to save sweep the legs of the cult woman out from under her and she crashed to the ground hard. Rhi took the moment to run over and finish her off with a single shot to her head. Rhi then doubled over, she really hadn’t been prepared for this kind of buffoonery when she transferred here from Billings. She hadn’t even had to use a weapon until she got here.

“I can see you’re working through an existential thing, but could you give me a hand here?” The lady on the ground inquired, rolling onto her side to reveal her hands were bound. Rhi let out a surprised noise, brushing her brown hair from her face.

“Fuck, I am so sorry!” She exclaimed while moving to kneel beside her and deftly untie her wrists, the woman laughed good naturedly.

“It’s ok...it’s an odd situation here.” She conceded while rubbing her wrists and standing up and taking the rifle off of the cult woman. “She ain’t gonna need this anymore.” 

“Odd is an fucking understatment.” Rhi agreed, searching the body for handgun ammo, and cursing when she found none, and the woman laughed again, nodding.

“Oh, if you’re needing any assistance, that Boshaw fellow is close by. When he found out what was going on he started laughing like a crazy man.” Rhi looked up from her knelt place on the ground, hazel eyes wide and her heart rate sped up when she heard Boshaw. As in Sharky Boshaw? Rhi knew she would probably have to face him again eventually, but she was caught off guard that it would be so soon. “Grabbed a propane tank and ran towards the Moonflower Trailer Park...what? You ok? Looks like you just saw a ghost.” The woman asked, and Rhi half nodded, waving her hand dismissively.

“I’m great...just...stunned.” She partially lied, standing to her full height and brushing off her knees, and gave the lady a weary smile. “The trailer park you say. Right up that road there?” Rhi asked, thumbing over her shoulder at the dirt road off to the left, and she nodded affirmation. Rhi groaned inwardly, how would seeing Sharky again after all these years be?

Rhi sighed, as she dismounted her ATV, looking at the trailer park in front of her, placing her hands on her hips. She was not ready to go in here, meeting Sharky again after so many years was sure to be...eventful, to say the least.

After their first and only interaction when she was 16, Sharky actually helped mold her future, not that he knows that. But little rebellious Rhi meeting someone who actually was a badass and witnessed what kind of trouble it gets, made her realize that not all attention is great.

It's when she really started looking up to Earl and the profession he is in, and guided her to be on this side of the law.

Dust came up in little puffs as she walked deeper into the abandoned park, hearing Sharky up on top of one of the trailers, she came to a stop near it, looking him over, her hands still resting on her hips. She chewed on her bottom lip, before making an exasperated noise, looking up at the sky in an aggravated manner and climbing up the nearby ladder.

"Hey, get the fuck outta here, Johnny-law. I know my fuckin’ rights." Is what Sharky greeted Rhi with once she stood to her full height on the trailers roof. She scoffed and rolled her eyes, before stepping towards him, he still sounded the same. Maybe a little more gruffness in his voice from what she guessed was years of smoking.

"Oh, so you know that setting fire to things with a flamethrower is still technically illegal?" Rhi asked, sarcastically, shoving her hands into the back pockets of her jeans, shifting her weight to her right leg, tilting her head back to look at Sharky in the eyes. She was surprised to see that there was no recognition in his blue eyes for her, she was just another cop to him at this point.

She shouldn't be surprised, though, as she didn't have that much of an impact on his life as a whole as he had hers.

"Hey, I come out here and I'm not botherin' nobody." He swept his arm in a gesture over the trailer park grounds, pointing at different speakers set up. "I play some of the best music and just let loose here. In a pants free, consequence free environment." Rhi blinked at the speakers as he spoke, before her eyes travelled back to him and trailed down to see he was definitely still wearing pants and she couldn't help but laugh slightly.

"Uh, Sharky-" He gave her a confused look, and she tilted her head in question and then it dawned on her. He wants to know how she knows his name already. 

"I know, ya wanna know why I'm still wearin' pants. No one knows what the next few minutes hold." He stated, moving over to some pedals he has mounted on the roof. Ok, so maybe he didn't catch that she called him Sharky. "By the way, my name is Charlemagne Victor Boshaw but if you require a little brevity in your day to day life you can just call me-"

"Sharky, I know." Rhi finished for him and this time he gave her a more suspicious look and she folded her arms over her chest. Why does the fact he doesn't remember her nettle her so much?

"How in the fuck do ya know that? Don't think I've ever seen ya around here, little girl." Rhi's nostrils flared slightly at the way he said "little girl" it sounded so much like when they were all in the police station all those years ago. So condescending, almost like he could never take her seriously.

Rhi made a "tch" sound, clucking her tongue, her jaw setting in her rising anger and she looked at him out of the corner of her eye and in a deadpan voice, responded:

"Man, fuck you." And with that, it was as if a light bulb lit up blindingly in a dark room. Sharky's blue eyes widened and his mouth fell slightly agape as she watched it slowly come to him who she was.

"No fuckin' way. Bitty Rhi?" It was Rhi's turn to give him a confused look, only Hurk Jr ever called her that. Does that mean he talked to Sharky about her off and on throughout the years? "Should have fuckin' known, of course you'd become a cop. You've been a snitch from the beginning." Rhi's anger exploded at that accusation, she never got over that he always thought she was spying on him and Hurk that day.

"Silencio fucker. I never ratted on you two that day. I had just rolled into town. Besides, who do you think convinced Earl to let you go?" They were both snarling at each either, but Sharky was the one to back down, his anger reducing to surprise. 

"That was you?" His voice was a lot softer than she had ever heard, and she nodded, her eyes looking away from him and back to him quickly as if to say "uh, yeah". The two stared at each other in silence, sizing each other up, before Sharky finally scoffed and folded his arms over his chest. “Doesn’t change the fact that you’re a cop now.” It was Rhi’s turn to scoff and she turned her face to the sky, shaking her tiny fists in frustration.

“Of fucking course a hillbilly ass like yourself wouldn’t fucking change. Outsiders are the devil.” She ended her sentence mimicking his accent, while simultaneously walking back to the ladder to gingerly climb down, still mouthing. “I was gonna ask if you wanted to help me kick this cults ass, but you know what...nevermind.” She called, walking backwards away from the trailers, throwing her hands up in the air before looking back up to where he had been to point at him. Rhi became surprised when she saw that he was following her down the ladder, and her arm dropped back to her side. “Why are you following me?” Her anger had deflated to confusion.

“I can’t have ya runnin’ around like a crazy woman, Dep. Ya might hurt someone...or yourself.” Sharky teased, and Rhi’s eyes narrowed at him, before her index finger came up to poke him in the chest.

“I’ll have you know I can take care of myself.” She promised and he chuckled, holding up his hands in a defeated manner.

“No doubt, Munchkin, but still you’ll need someone to show ya around.” Sharky pointed out and Rhi considered it. He did have a point, sure she had spent a few summers here, but she hadn’t gone everywhere during that time. Her hazel eyes looked him up and down before she scoffed again, giving him a small but sardonic smirk.

“Fine. But I’m driving, Charlemagne.” She mocked, causing him to grimace as she turned and walked back to where she parked the ATV.

“Hey!” Rhi shouted over her shoulder as she and Sharky were taking a break and stretching, they had saved numerous people along the road, and Rhi needed a breather. Sharky made a noise as he dropped a cigarette butt and snuffed it out with the toe of his shoe. “Hurk Jr around, I haven’t seen him in ages.” Sharky turned to face her, about to answer when he saw the orange glow of the sunset catching Rhi’s face just right as she ran her fingers through her hair trying to brush out tangles, and his mouth fell agape instead.

“Uh…” Was all Sharky managed to get out and Rhi looked over at him, her right eyebrow raised, and then she turned to look behind her to see what had Sharky so enraptured, but there was nothing. She had begun to get nervous, thinking it was a bear, but it was literally just a drop off to the Henbane River below. She shrugged and looked back at him.

“Sharkster...ya alright?” Rhi stepped towards him, snapping her fingers in his face, and it broke the trance and he shook his head to clear it.

“Huh? Yeah, I’m great. Hurk is stayin’ at his dad’s up in the Whitetail Mountains.” He answered, motioning in the direction of the mountains and Rhi gave him a quizzical look before nodding, chewing on the inside of her cheek.

“Right…” She turned to go back to the ATV, but turned back to Sharky after a couple of steps. “You sure you’re ok. You looked weird-” Her words were cut off when he walked into her, she stumbled back but his hand shot, grabbing her elbow to steady her, pulling her against him, and she blushed. “Didn’t realize you were right up my ass, Charlemagne.” She tried to sound teasing, but it came out rather defensively, and she broke free from his hold, taking a few steps back from him, her tone catching him off guard.

"Didn't think ya were gonna turn on me either." His tone however did come out his intended way of just being playful. He wasn't sure how to take Rhi, sometimes she seemed rather friendly, but then it was like she realized she was being open and a wall slammed down behind her eyes, blocking everyone from her innermost thoughts. They had spent nearly a whole day together now, and everytime he thinks they are getting friendly, Rhi pushes him back an arms length away again.

Rhi’s eyes studied him suspiciously, had what he said been a tease or was it being passive aggressive about their past again? Sharky then gave her a soft almost puppy innocent smile and Rhi’s eyes widened, a slight blush tinted her pale cheeks, and her defenses melted away. She wanted to slap herself, because, sure, when she was 16 she had found him attractive enough on their first sighting, but that was the rebellious part of her...right? That part of her that was like ‘oh, Step-Ass would absolutely hate you bringing someone like him home’.

Rhi shook her head slightly to clear it before giving Sharky a smile small in return. “Sorry, I guess I’m embarrassed I nearly fell down…” She lied, laughing nervously, before climbing back onto the quad, and patting the area behind her, and Sharky quickly joined her.

“Hey, Dep, ya know who I’d bet would be happy to see ya?” Sharky asked, leaning down to speak into Rhi’s ear as she sped down the road, and a small shiver ran down her spine as his facial hair tickled her earlobe.

“Who’s that Sharky?” She replied, turning her head towards him slightly to make sure he heard her. She was just hoping her talking while driving this fast didn’t have her eating bugs.

“My auntie.” Of course! Addie! Rhi had missed her so much and hadn’t really visited much two years ago while she had been recovering, she just talked to her on the phone more than anything...having been so preoccupied with John. Feeling her anger rising again, she cleared her throat.

“Abso-fucking-lutely! Let’s go see Addie!”

Slowing to a stop close to the Drubman Marina, Rhi vacated the quad after she was sure Sharky was off, she sighed. Of course the cult was here too, she thought to herself as she ran her fingers through her hair in a very frustrated manner. She was just beginning to walk up the slight incline to gain the higher ground when her radio beeped. She froze, it was nighttime now, so the noise seemed like it resounded loudly. She grabbed it quickly, nearly dropping it in her hurry, she juggled it for a couple of beats before finally getting a good grasp on it.

“Deputy...I hope I didn’t wake you.” John again, and Rhi cursed lowly, rolling her eyes, and giving Sharky a motion of hanging herself and he chuckled.

“Not at all, asshole, Sharky here has been keeping me company.” Rhi knew that would ruffle John’s peacock feathers. “The hell do you want? Y’know, since this is Faith’s region afterall…” Rhi pointed out, smirking to herself, and she heard John scoff bitterly.

“Ah yes, Charlemagne. Not sure he is going to be the best fit for you my dear.” Rhi blinked, confused by that answer and she shot Sharky a quick look, but he seemed to not be paying full attention to the conversation at hand, his face cast upwards looking at the stars.

“Oh? And you are?” She asked, turning her back to Sharky and walking back towards the quad, not wanting him to overhear anymore.

“Do you remember that night before you left for Billings?” Rhi’s jaw muscles bunched and flexed, her free hand clenching into a tight fist. Of course she did.

“The night that it was clear you were hiding something from me but I was too stupid to acknowledge it?” She hissed through her teeth, and John was quiet for a few beats.

“Yes, that night.” John agreed and Rhi stared down at the radio as if she couldn’t believe he just brushed off what she said. 

What she didn’t realize was, on John’s end, he had placed the radio on his forehead. He hated that he had to lie to her back then, it had been at Joseph’s request that John reach out to her, being certain Rhi needed to be brought into their loving family. He had gotten close to her during the handful of months she was there, and before he knew it, Rhi was leaving Hope County altogether.

“We watched the stars that night.” He continued, standing out on one of his balconies, looking up at the stars, he couldn’t help but think about that night. Rhi’s mind flashed back to her and John sitting on the waters edge, as she pointed out the different constellations, John leaned close to her, one arm draped around her shoulders. How could this be the same person, he acted so different back then. She sighed, looking up at the stars too. 

“We did…” Her tone was soft as she remembered it all. “What happened to you…?” It was a bitter question, rhetorical because she was sure he wouldn’t answer such a question, to him, he was probably always the same him. To her, he was two faced.

“You thought I was a perfect fit back then.” His voice was back to being cocky and she growled, she hated that he could switch on a dime like that. “I’m at my home, if you want me to prove how perfect of a fit I am.” The sultry tone of his suggestion caused a hot feeling to run to her core, and Rhi’s face turned blood red at her body’s reaction. Unsure of how to even respond to such a statement, she let out a shaky laugh.

“Oh, John.” Came the weakest comeback she’s ever done in her life, and she knew she had to do better. “I’m not that easy, you’ll have to work for it.” She tried to sound as seductive as she could, not being used to flirting, especially like this, before replacing the radio onto her belt.

“Watch your back then, Deputy.” It was a warning that should have scared her, yet it had sent an inexplicable thrill through her entire body, and she smirked, she was ready for him and whatever he sent her way.

#far cry 5 #far cry 5 oc #rhiannon hale #far cry 5 john seed #john seed #john x rhi #Sharky Boshaw #sharky x rhi #nodus tollens #hope county #hope county montana #far cry 5 fan fic #far cry 5 fanfiction #adelaide drubman

[technicallyarevenant]

I don’t know what’s worse: Drowning beneath the waves or dying of thirst

Title: I don’t know what’s worse: Drowning beneath the waves or dying of thirst

Characters: Jason Todd, Mentioned Alfred Pennyworth, Mentioned Dick Grayson, Mentioned Bruce Wayne

Other tags: Flashbacks, PTSD, Suicidal thoughts

TW: Suicidal thoughts

Words: 1490

Part 1 of 2

It had been a week now since Jason had become swiss cheese, and Jason really wanted to leave. He had woken up to Alfred, and Jason’s not sure if Bruce knows of Jason's weakness for Alfred, but either way, a single look from Alfred quelled anything that might have come out of his mouth. That doesn’t, however, change the fact that Jason didn't want to be this close to Bruce for any longer. Or Dick. Or anyone else Bruce had decided to adopt. Jason had never liked staying in one place for long, and that had increased tenfold when Jason became The Red Hood. He’s going to make a break for it when Alfred finally leaves his side for more than two minutes. But that will still take some time, because Alfred is Alfred, and trying to keep a secret from him is impossible, especially if he gives you the look. As soon as Alfred gives you the look, you're bound to spill every single secret you foolishly thought you could keep from him. Alfred, however, will usually keep the secret to himself as long as it isn't going to cause anyone, including yourself, harm.

Alfred. Jason had always loved Alfred when he was younger, and he still does. The difference now between his younger self and current self, is that he doesn't think he's worthy of Alfred's love anymore. Something that is part of the reason why he wants to leave the mansion so badly, that and what he’d already previously stated. Jason's also not really sure why Bruce hasn't already kicked him out, and the only reason Jason can really think of at the moment, is because of Alfred, but Jason's really not sure, because how could Alfred still love him? After everything that Jason has done, how could Alfred even take care of him while he's injured instead of just letting him die like he deserves? How could he possibly be worth it at this point? If he thinks about it, Alfred is probably just looking over him while he heals because of some strange obligation to make sure that Jason doesn’t die. Maybe Alfred still feels guilty over not being able to help Jason in Ethiopia, or maybe Alfred is just a good person and doesn’t want to see anyone die. Even a monster like Jason. Although, at this point, Jason wouldn’t mind if Alfred would just let him die. But Alfred won’t let him. Dick won’t let him, and surprisingly, Bruce won’t let him. Jason can’t really remember what happened after he passed out, or anything that happened when he first got to the manor. Not that it matters, but Jason assumes that’s when all the important conversations took place, and Jason likes being in the know. Besides, Jason doubts that any of them would tell him what was said while Jason was unconscious, even if he asked nicely. Which he wouldn't.

With that in mind, Jason hefted himself up into a sitting position, groaning slightly at the tugging sensation from the stitches in his chest, Alfred had been gone for more than half an hour, so Jason assumed it was safe to leave. It wasn’t as if Jason hadn’t had worse, but it also never felt good when you got shot in the chest. Especially if you were shot multiple times. Jason looked around, trying to decide if trying walk around right now without anyone nearby would be a good idea. He hadn’t really walked around for the past week and Jason wasn’t really sure if his legs could handle walking around without any support. Jason gripped the metal rails on the bed, Alfred had been too worried about tearing his stitches, causing him to lose more blood than he already had, so they had kept him in the cave in the medical ward. Not that Jason minded, actually going into the manor, for the first time in years, would probably not be good for Jason’s mental health. Something that was already very bad. And yes, Jason would be the first to admit that he didn’t have good mental health, albeit not out loud. And especially not in the cave. Jason doesn’t doubt that there’s a shitton of bugs hidden around, making sure that Jason doesn’t somehow do something against Bruce’s code.

Really, at this point, it doesn’t surprise Jason that Bruce trusts Jason about as much as he trusts the other loonies that he throws in Arkham. It shouldn’t hurt, it shouldn’t, but it does, and to Jason that’s the worst part. That he knows he’s done more than enough to gain Bruce’s distrust, that he’s continually shown Bruce that trusting him doesn’t end well for anyone involved, including Jason, and yet...it still sends a shooting pain into his heart. The same shooting pain he felt when he was 15, angry at Bruce for not believing him about Garzonas, for not trusting him, and for telling him what to do, causing him to run away, and get beaten nearly to death by the Joker and subsequently blown up. Jason should be used to it, but he isn’t.

Jason’s grip on the metal bars tighten for a moment, and he grits his teeth, he needs to stop dwelling on things that don’t matter. Things that haven’t mattered in a long time. Gaining Bruce’s trust back isn’t realistic, nor is it an option. Not anymore. Even if Jason tried, and he doubts that Bruce would even let him try, Bruce would probably do the Batman equivalent of laughing in someones face, and tell Jason that he’d never trust him, not after everything that Jason has done. So Jason loosens his grip on the bars once again, and lifts himself up from the bed, trying to keep his legs steady and not fall on the ground and alert Alfred. Jason ends up gritting his teeth again as he tries to ignore the fact that his chest is slowly starting to feel like it’s on fire, because he’s not sure when the last time he got a dose of the good stuff, and he burns through it quicker than the others because of his dip into the pit of immortality goo that makes you go crazy. He stumbles slightly, his legs trying to adjust to supporting Jason’s weight again. He hisses slightly when the stumble causes the stitches in his chest to tug again, and god Jason hopes they didn’t rip, he didn’t want to deal with stitching himself back up again when he got back to one of his safe houses.

Jason stands still for a moment after he gets himself completely upright, fighting off the dizziness of standing up suddenly after having been laying down for so long. It wasn’t a pleasant feeling, but, again, Jason had, had worse before. He exhaled through his nose before stumbling over to his shoes. As much as Jason would like to leave right this moment, walking through Gotham without shoes on was pretty much asking for some sort of STD for stepping on someone's thrown out heroin needle. Jason tried his best to tie them once he finally tugged them on, but gave up after his fingers refused to work properly for him. He settled for leaving them untied and continued to stagger around and gather his stuff, pulling on his jacket once he found it. It was freezing in the cave, and Jason refused to be cold with this many wounds in his chest. Jason hated the cold. And he hated the heat. The cold reminded him of waking up in a box, clawing his way out and feeling the blinding cold that rained down upon him as the Gotham sky weeped for its fallen prince of Gotham. The heat reminded him of Ethiopia, of the blast that scorched his skin and left him dead, the same blast that made sure that Jason would never be with his family again, that nothing would ever be the same. It reminded him of the Joker, the man who beat him with a crowbar. The man who asked him “What hurts more? A? Or B? Forehand? Or backhand?”. The man who should be dead.

Jason had collected all of his shit, or, most of it at least. He wasn’t sure where his guns were, but he didn’t feel like looking for them. It was fine, he had more than enough, losing two wouldn’t affect him, it was just annoying. He looked back once more, making sure that there wasn’t anything that was obviously his lying about and started to head towards the exit for the cave, hopefully he could make it far enough, or Bruce wouldn’t care enough, so that nobody would catch him. Jason is in no shape to make some sort of great escape, so he just settles with stumbling out of the cave and beginning the long, long walk back to one of his safe houses.

#Jason Todd #Bruce Wayne #Alfred Pennyworth #Dick Grayson #mentioned Bruce Wayne #mentioned alfred pennyworth #fanfic #red hood #batman #nightwing #fanfiction #dc #I Don't Know What's Worse

[boysknottysummer-blog]

Discovered!

The following is the first chapter of Nicolas H’s saga called The Boys’ Knotty Summer. His stories hold a special place in my heart, as they helped me to find who I really was as I was growing up. I hope you, the dear reader, will find them as delightful as I do.

To begin with my story, I should introduce myself at the time as a 14 year old male, athlete-slim, just as tall as any normal kid, with short brown hair and green eyes. While I look like the average Latin boy, at the same time I don’t (mom is a foreigner with German ancestry).

During one of my many summer vacation’s afternoons, I was invited by my cousin to sleep over. Tyler (13) is a little bit different; he is shorter than me, has darker skin, black eyes and hair. We had already played tie-up games together but this was a special occasion I’ll never forget.

Around 3 pm, my mom dropped me off at my uncle’s house, a two-story building where there’s nothing much to do than play soccer, cards or watch TV (no computer though), but we managed to have fun anyway. Tyler had only one brother, who was 10 years older than him, so he never got into - neither knew about - our games. Tyler answered the door, said hello and I followed him right into the kitchen where he was washing some dishes.  

“My mom’s working late. She asked me to do some stuff and then we’ll have the whole day to play,” Tyler said, as I started to help him.

“What about Marcus?”

“I have no idea. He’s always wandering in his car, but don’t worry, he won’t be back till 10,” he replied and I relished the idea of being all by ourselves in that big house.

I really enjoyed spending time with Tyler because he was open to try anything and wouldn’t say shit like you were weird or something. Right after we finished all of his chores, the doorbell rang and several friends from the neighborhood invited us to play soccer. They always showed up when they knew I was around and we often agreed to dispute a match with them if we, ehem, weren’t doing something else.

We went upstairs to get the ball, changed from our normal clothes into blue satin shorts and a light t-shirt, with a pair of worn out sneakers. I remember it turned out to be a particularly tough game, despite the fact I was a fine soccer player. My teammates were Adrian (13) and Phil (12), the “blond brothers”; against Tyler’s team: Adam (13) and Chris (14). While we disputed the match, the relentless sun punished us severely; it must have been the hottest day of the season, for I was soaked in sweat only 15 minutes after we started. It went on excitingly, until there was an incident I ought to tell due to its relevance in the story. Tyler tried one last time to score before the game ended. He had already left Phil behind and had dribbled Adrian, the goalkeeper, running at full speed towards our goal. I was the last barrier to go through before scoring, and if that happened, we would lose. I must admit I don’t like losing, especially in my own game, so I decided Tyler wouldn’t score this goal and started running in the opposite direction, like I was going to collide with him. When I was pretty close, I threw myself to the ground, stretching my right leg at my cousin; and I tackled him. Back then I didn’t think it was going to hurt him THAT bad, but he recovered from it, so let’s just call it a minor soccer injury. When I got up, I saw Tyler on the ground clutching and rubbing his right ankle and screaming like hell.

“Sorry Tyler, I had to protect my team you know. No hard feelings right?” I said, expecting a little understanding. I reached down, inspected his wound and helped him to his feet.  

“Yeah sure, you stupid cheater,” he replied and pushed me. A sudden chill ran through my body. I tried to apologize again but he wouldn’t accept it. If there ever was an outstanding characteristic in Tyler, that was vengeance. The decision was left for penalty kicks and we won 3 – 2. Tyler didn’t seem to be angry, but I knew him, he was furious. The game over, the loser team bought us a big bottle of Coke, which we drank greedily, and then Tyler and I headed back to the house. It was around 5pm. We trotted up to the second floor, where all bedrooms were. We were filthy and in desperate need of a shower. I had already taken my sweaty t-shirt off and as I was entering his room, Tyler on impulse kicked my ankle and I tripped and fell down hard.  

“AHHH! That hurt goddammit! What was that for?” I cried out loud, astonished, massaging my foot. He immediately reached into his top drawer and took a long coil of elastic bandage, the ones you use to use for boxing.

“Nothing,” he replied while he pushed me rather roughly on my stomach, “just lay down still, because you’re going to be my prisoner for the whole afternoon.” I couldn’t believe his words and laughed. At that time, I wasn’t worried about getting out, because Tyler couldn’t even tie his freaking shoelaces - whenever he had tied me up I had always managed to free myself within seconds. I tried getting up but he jumped and sat on my butt, pulling my wrists back. I squirmed and wiggled trying to escape, but Tyler’s grip held -although younger, Tyler was quite strong, strong enough to hold me.  

“Calm down,” he said, “you’re just making it harder for yourself.” I laughed again, but soon that smile disappeared from my face. It was then Tyler finally got the chance to turn the tables on me and prove a point or two to me regarding tying up skills. He grabbed my wrists and I felt the loops around them while he wrapped vertically, and then horizontally; he finally knotted it beyond the reach of my fingers. I struggled somewhat worried and, surprise, I couldn’t get out! It was nothing like the crappy ties he used to do; there was no slack and all loops had a part in strictly securing my hands to each other. I had no logical explanation to how he had suddenly become an expert tier, but what really mattered at that instant – and worst of all - was that I realized any attempt of escape without help would be futile.  

“HELLLPMPPPPPPPHHHH….!!!” My scream was muffled when Tyler clamped his sweaty warm hand over my mouth. I groaned, squirmed and mmmpppphhhhed but Tyler had pressed the back of my head using his other hand and had effectively hand-gagged me.  

“There’s no point in screaming for help now, Nick. Nobody is home and you’re going to pay for what you did this afternoon.” I think, however, he would have tied me either way, but then he had a good excuse to do it. At that tender age, I was not familiarized with the term “bondage” – we just referred it as “tie up game”. It’s obvious that at that age most people start their love for tying up, as it happened to me. Looking back with hindsight, I think it is very likely that Ty (that’s how I call him, ironic isn’t it?) also enjoyed bondage more than he was letting on at the time.  

“Are you sorry?’ Tyler asked with his hand still tightly clamped over my mouth. I tried desperately to reply, “I am!”, but it all came out as “MMP MPPPHHHH” through his hand.  

“This is your last chance Nick. Are you sorry?” He asked again and ignored my following “MMP MPHHHHHHHHH!!!”  

“Well Nick, you leave no me choice but to punish you,” Tyler said in a sober tone. Then he removed his hand and I said, “I’m sormmppphhhh…” but was cut off again as he shoved a sock in my mouth and sealed it with a convenient roll of duct tape under the bed, wrapping it around my head.  

“Get up now!” he commanded. Tyler helped me to my feet and then marched me to his bed where I was laid on, still with bound arms. He proceeded to take off my shoes and socks, and then he repeated the tying technique with my ankles and secured them together to a rope that hung from the ceiling. There I lay shirtless, tape-gagged, hands bound behind my back, and my restrained feet lifted a meter up, making it impossible for me to get up. My cousin just laughed at me; he would be getting fun at my expense. I soon would know what he was up to.  

“Nick, I really should get a shower. You won’t mind if I leave you alone for a while, will you?” Ty mocked but got no answer.

“Haha.” He went on admiring his handiwork, patted on my cheek, said, “Don't go anywhere!”, and closed the bathroom door after him.

I tried to free myself, but to no avail. I mightily struggled against the ropes, twisting my shoulders up and down, pulling and pushing my arms against the ropes. Ty returned after 15 minutes to find me the same way he had left me, only sweatier. I was breathing heavily as he reached to my feet and wiggled his fingers. He was aware that I was extremely ticklish and he had always taken advantage on that; he was really, really evil in that way.  

“Mmmpphhhhhh!!!” I screamed through my gag, hoping compassion. Nevertheless, he started the dreadful tickling. He tickled me with increased intensity and I burst out laughing under my gag. He kept on tickling me, under my armpits, my sides, but specially my bare feet, a smile of pleasure on his face. I was totally helpless and laughed my head out as he continued. I screamed, wriggled and squirmed all the way until he stopped for a minute or two so I could recover from it. By then, tears were already rolling down my cheeks. I was exhausted. I thought it was better if I just remained quiet and stood still to regain strength, for I knew the relief would be temporary.  

“Do you like that Nick?” I shook my head with pleading eyes.

“Well, I sure don’t like having a bruise on my leg you jerk!” He punched me on the arm. Then Tyler approached again wiggling his fingers, but like a miracle, we heard steps coming up the stairs. He froze and looked at me.

“OH, SHIT!!!”

“Mphhhhhhhh !!!” I begged through the tape; I wanted him to untie me before it was too late! We truly didn’t want to be seen playing tie up games; we thought it would be too embarrassing, particularly for me in that position. I should have looked stupid tied that way and tortured by a 13 year old boy. I suppose he thought it was impossible to untie me before I was discovered and he just hid behind the closet, the coward little rat. The steps came nearer and nearer, until they reached the closed door which was shortly knocked and then opened….

#boys friends friendship gay stories story summer tugstories tug tieupgames writing memories

[chokememrstark]

The Silent Lover // A Thorki Fairytale!AU

Words: ~5,3k

Summary: Inspired by Grimms’ The Six Swans: King Thor finds a man in the woods during his hunt. In love with the man before him, Thor takes the silent stranger home and the man soon beomes his lover and consort. What will happen when Thor has noticed his beloved’s strange behaviours though? And what dark secret is the king's lover trying to hide from him?

Mpreg, king!Thor, love at first sight, mute Loki, lies and secrets, magic, curses, angst, fluff

Notes: Co-written with @the-sun-shining-on-thorki - thank you for this fun and amazing experience! I loved it!!!

When Thor first beholds the man in the woods, he goes speechless. The excitement for hunting is now gone as he stands transfixed on the raven-haired man sitting on the forest ground. Dressed in rags and covered with dust, the man might look hideous to most, but not to Thor: the King is mesmerized by the stranger’s emerald eyes and soft pink lips.

“You must be injured. Here, let me help you.” Thor says as he steps closer to the frail man before him.

Instead of welcoming his assistance, or advances, the man backs away in fear. Thor looks back and realises what has triggered his fear: the hounds and the group of huntsmen behind him are staring at the man like they would a prey.

“You don't have to be afraid,” Thor quickly says, waving his hand to signal his men to retreat a little. “I mean no harm to you, I promise.”

The man looks at Thor with suspicion, but after a few moments, his tension slowly fades away a little. His eyes lose their stinging and fearful glare, but he doesn't say a word. He just looks at Thor in silence, as if he lost his voice.

Happy with the new display of trust, Thor quickly unties his fur cloak before wrapping it around the stranger. The man has no shoes, Thor has noticed, so without asking for his permission, Thor lifts him into his arms before slowly walking to his horse.

Seconds later, he regrets his decision.

The man starts to panic in his arms, struggling to get off as he turns his head to look deep into the forest as if he is searching for something. The king’s arms remain firm around him, but Thor makes soft shushing sound to soothe the man. When they both get on the horse and are quickly surrounded by the royal guards, the man seems to have submitted to his fate and hung his head in sadness. Thor gently wraps his arms around his new-found love, without a care for the dust and mud on his body.

Thor will make him happy, he knows he will: he has fallen in love with the raven-haired man at first sight.

The silence Thor was faced with when he met his new lover lasts, for the other won’t speak no matter how much time passes. He is quiet and reserved at first, but even when he begins to warm up to Thor's affections, he stays completely silent.

Thor doesn't know anything about the man, not even his name or where he comes from. None of this lessens the love he feels, however, and he makes sure to show it whenever he can. He is gentle and careful with his lover, learns to read his face and his gestures, to understand him even without words. Even when they lay together at night, they don't need to speak to understand each other.

They cling onto each other every night on the king’s bed. With each thrust, Thor promises in his lover’s ears his everlasting passion and fidelity. Loki never returns those words; he uses his soft fingertips to silence Thor before rewarding the young king’s devotion with his lips.

One morning when he wakes up, Thor finds a small piece of paper next to his bed. He curiously takes and unfolds it, revealing a single word on it, written in a delicate and beautiful way.

Loki.

It might be just an insignificant information to most. After all, one’s power in court comes from the royal favours, not one’s identity. Nevertheless, the king is overjoyed with the new knowledge given to him. It is a statement of Loki’s trust and fidelity to him, as Thor had confided his own name to Loki during their first night together: his feelings are finally returned.

That day, the court is shaken by the turmoil caused by the hot-handed king: King Thor rushes into his parents’ chamber and proudly declares his decision to marry Loki, the nobody he found in the woods. King Odin nearly strips Thor of his throne, but the stubborn king insists on keeping Loki as his companion in return for his lifelong devotion to his country. Powerless, his parents can only agree to the match and give their blessing to the oblivious Loki, who is brought in minutes later.

Despite the clear disapproval of his parents, Thor couldn't be happier with his decision. Their wedding is a spectacle like no other, where both Thor and Loki are adorned with the finest robes and most exquisite jewellery and when they dance for the first time as husbands, all eyes are on them.

Neither Thor's mother nor father is particularly pleased with his decision to marry someone like Loki, but Thor doesn't think about them when he looks into his husband's eyes. He is delighted and believes that nothing could destroy their happiness.

That night, Thor vows his love and fidelity to Loki once more, underlining every word with a kiss to make it more meaningful. He wishes for nothing more than to hear his lover return those words to him, but the silence is a price he is willing to pay as long as he has Loki.

--------

During the next five years, Loki has proven himself to be an equally capable ruler despite his low upbringing and silence. He has secured a team of loyal servants who carry out his orders and makes sure to serve and protect the king at all costs. Unknown to most, Thor has even gifted his consort a little apothecary close to their chambers when the king discovered Loki’s talents for potion making and medicine.

The king and his consort remain in love in spite of one major flaw: they remain childless.

Loki seems apologetic for his inability to conceive, but Thor shrugs it off as nothing. He knows better than to place too much demand on his beloved, especially when Loki’s anxiety cannot be voiced to anyone. Even Queen Frigga, who has grown fond of Loki in the last few years, cannot get a word out of him.

However, there is something that truly bothers Thor throughout the years: he has noticed his consort leaving the palace during the cold, early mornings, at least once a week. One time, he could not suppress his curiosity and peeped out of the window, only to see Loki riding into the dark forest in his dark emerald cloak.

What is Loki doing out there, in such an early hour?

Thor's concern only grows as time goes by until he eventually sends one of his warriors to follow Loki. He needs to know what could possibly bring his lover to leave for hours and never bringing it up in any way, even if it's something that doesn't show a great deal of trust.

Two weeks pass before he finally gets news of Loki's whereabouts and they only manage to deepen his worries. Thor listens carefully to what he's been told, but he cannot make much sense of it or believe it at first. The one who has been following his consort speaks of monsters Loki is involved with, of a giant wolf and a giant snake that seemed to follow Loki's command despite being big enough to eat him alive.

Thor can see the fear in his warrior’s eyes, can almost hear the unspoken accusations against his consort, but he doesn't want to hear them. He sends the man away with the promise to not tell another soul of his discoveries, but as soon as he's alone again his confidence and strength crumble. This is not what he expected, which was simply that Loki might be unfaithful to him, and there's nothing he can do about it, without risking Loki's anger or worse.

The brewing distrust leaves Thor awake throughout the night, and he stays so to hear Loki departing from their warm bed and away from their room. Hours later, he hears the door unlocked and soon his bed is filled with another body. Loki is ice cold and smells of leaves and wet earth, as he snuggles close to Thor for warmth, the king’s heart turns cold when he detects the faint scent of blood.

Is his love injured?

When he sees Loki moving around in court the next day, he knows all is well. That, however, does not comfort him at all and plunges him into a deeper depression.

Two nights later, Thor is ready. After Loki has left the room, once again, in his winter cloak, Thor throws on his and signals the Warriors Three, his best friends since childhood, to accompany him as they make their way silently after Loki.

Thor has expected anything, a secret lover, a friend Loki unwillingly abandoned years ago and even a murder scene his husband is trying to hide, but nothing can prepare him for the sight in front of him.

Loki’s horse leads the group to a rural graveyard deep inside the forest. There, their faces go pale at the sight of misshapen creatures feasting on the corpses newly dug up from their graves. Those monsters sneer at Loki’s entry, but they can do nothing to harm the living. Sulking, the eyeless corpses can only continue to tear off chunks and chunks of rotting meat from their latest victims and lick the stinking blood off their hollow mouths.

Instead of backing away from the horror, Loki’s pale face looks determined as he makes his way to a new grave. His slender fingers grasp hold of the tools he has brought along and the consort starts digging up the body inside.

“My God!” Fandral whispers as Volstagg can no longer hold the content of his stomach in. Thor stares at the scene, his face as white as a ghost.

The king and his warriors become the silent witnesses to the horror unfolding in front of them: the consort, no longer gentle, uses his knife to slice open the hand of the newly unearthed body. The dark and foul liquid starts running down the grey skin, into the bottle which Loki has tightly pressed against the flesh. The stench of decomposition and blood fills the air but does nothing to unsettle the raven-haired man kneeling next to the grave.

Sighing, Thor quickly wipes away the tears cooling on his cheeks. He gestures to his companions, and with Fandral and Hogun supporting a fainting Volstagg, they depart into the darkness.

The Warriors Three remain silent throughout the way back, afraid that any word would further shatter their king’s bleeding heart.

When they arrive at the castle, Thor doesn't look at his friends. With his head bowed and his shoulders hanging low, he simply asks them to keep silent about what they have just seen, before retreating to his chambers alone.

During the rest of the day, Thor barely speaks a word. Loki comes back later than usual, smelling of death and blood, but this time he finds the bed he shares with the king empty. Thor is nowhere to be seen, only in the evening, he returns, now as quiet as Loki is himself. He has spent the day wandering the castle grounds, trying to find a reason behind his consort's behaviour that doesn't indicate foul play.

According to the maids, Loki shuts himself in his apothecary all day. When Thor is drinking himself to unconsciousness in the tavern, Loki does not even leave that chamber. The servants seem to be trapped in a circle of terror, as more and more reported smelling stench beyond human comprehension outside the doors.

The night after his gruesome discovery is the first night since their marriage where Thor doesn't search for Loki's touch and warmth. Loki doesn't try to convince him, simply accepts the king's rejection and that hurts Thor even more than what he saw in the morning. He doesn't know what to make of it, if this is the beginning of the end or if there is a reasonable explanation. All he knows is that his love is hiding something dark from him, something that cannot end well.

In the morning when Thor wakes up, Loki is gone already. This time, however, Thor doesn't follow him and he doesn't send anyone after him either. Instead, he just lays in their bed, alone and with a tightening ache in his chest.

Thor will never admit this, but deep inside, he wants Loki to never return. Even if Loki is involved with one of the most gruesome plots one can imagine, Thor never wishes to condemn his husband and he would happily let this be the final chance for his escape.

In the morning, he shall wake up a king.

-------

Fandral, ever the observant spy, comes to Thor’s room with piles of evidence against the king consort. The crushed plants, which were obviously boiled beforehand, were retrieved by Fandral’s people in the early morning.

“Datura, my King, a very effective poison that can close one’s throat within minutes of consumption. I believe the usage of blood is to enhance the potency of such poison. I have consulted the royal physician, and she confirmed with her years of experience that she had no knowledge on this… unconventional medicine.”

Seeing Thor’s defeated look, Fandral quietly whispers, “I believe the consort has plotted to dispose of you by slipping the poison into your drinks on a regular basis.”

Before the guards storm into Loki’s apothecary, Thor has summed up his courage and visited his beloved one last time.

Inside, he finds his husband sitting before his desk with a gentle smile on his face. He seems to glow with joy, despite having stains on his clothes and surrounded by a foul smell.

Loki turns to greet Thor with a smile, which quickly diminishes when he sees Thor’s stony gaze.

“I have loved you, Loki, and I have always spent my life dreaming about our future,” Thor speaks in a solemn voice.

Loki stands up quickly, his eyes widen in shock and disbelief.

“But I see now that you are not what you have pretended to be. You have betrayed my trust and abused my love. You’ve condemned our country into a state of horror with your witchcraft, and as the King, I can no longer allow that.”

Before Loki can step closer to explain, the doors fly wide open and the consort is harshly dragged back by a number of guards.

“No harm shall befall my consort. Witch or not, he is to die a dignified and painless death. Take him away,” Thor commands quietly, turning his head away from Loki’s pleading eyes.

Thor is heartbroken by this turn of events, but he cannot endanger his people, no matter how much he loves Loki. In the morning it will be over, Loki's life will be over and his kingdom will be safe again. Thor tries to hold onto this as much as he can, knowing he's doing the right thing, but it does nothing to ease his own pain. If only Loki had stayed away, he would at least live, even if they would be separated.

When he finally stands alone in the apothecary, the king is numb from the sheer amount of guilt and grief he feels. He had loved Loki from the very first moment, trusted him enough to never ask questions or demand answers, and this is how it will all end.

With a sigh, Thor's gaze lingers on the desk Loki had sat on before he was dragged away and he notices the flask on it. He takes it carefully, turning it between his fingers. Loki had been so excited earlier, more than Thor had ever seen before. It makes all of what will follow so much worse, but something in his heart tells him that it has to do with this flask. Whatever it might be worth, he knows where it belongs.

Thor's heart is heavy when he walks down the stairs to the dungeon and approaches the cell his beloved consort will spend the remaining few hours of his life in. The second he steps inside Loki is on his feet, but Thor stops him by holding up a hand before he can come close enough to touch him.

“I’m sorry it has to end like this, Loki. All I ever wanted was your happiness, I wish this would have been enough for you.” Thor doesn't look at Loki as he speaks, he can't bear the sadness and fear in those beautiful emerald eyes that he loves so dearly. “I found this on your desk and I think you should have it. If it is what I believe it to be, you should use it to end things before the sun rises.”

Thor hands Loki the flask and turns around, preparing to leave. There are so many things he wants to say and so many answers he wishes he had, but nothing will make a difference anymore now, he knows that. Loki quickly clutches the flask close to his chest, as tears run down his face.

“I love you, Loki,” Thor says quietly, fighting to hold back his own tears. “I don't want to do this, but I have no choice. If only there was another way... maybe I shouldn’t have brought you here when everything was doomed from the moment I laid eyes on you.“

Before he leaves the room, Thor asks, “Can you let me hear your voice?”

He is met with silence. It's answer enough.

---------

When Thor wakes up the next day, his eyes swollen, he is ready to leave the room and face the news of his consort’s untimely death. He is disappointed, however, when Fandral comes up to tell him the location of the execution has been picked: it would be near the forest, away from the curious eyes of the people.

Having ridden all the way to the site, Thor gets off his horse and sees his consort taken off from a plain carriage. Dressed in white, Loki’s face is pale while his hands are clutching tightly onto the bottle. When his eyes meet Thor’s, the raven-haired man gives him a soft smile before looking into the forest; everything seems to remind Thor of the day he rescued his beloved from the wilderness.

“Consort Loki, you are accused of treason and hereby condemned to be burned at the stake. Do you wish to make any confession?” the judge asks, earning a few laughs from the courtiers.

Loki does not respond to the question, his eyes seem fixated at the woods. A guard approaches him to take away the flask, only to be stopped by Thor on the spectator’s stand.

“Leave him. He shall have peace.” Thor orders. Silently, he passes a tiny packet to Fandral.

“Gunpowder.” He whispers and Fandral nods.

“Before we will carry out your punishment, do you have any last words?” the judge asks, but this time there is no laughter. Thor watches Loki closely, waiting for something, anything, just a single word, but his consort stays as silent as he has always been. The men slowly guide him onto the scaffold, where a pile of wood and a stake were prepared beforehand.

The judge looks over at the king, waiting for him to give the final signal. Thor wants to stop this madness, pull Loki away from the stake and take back all that happened, but it's impossible and he knows it. So, dooming the man he loves with all his heart, he nods and waves his hand. The torch is lightened and as the judge moves closer to the wood, Thor can feel the tears sting in his eyes.

The wood starts catching fire and everyone's eyes are on Loki, whose calm expression doesn't falter as he keeps looking away from them, into the forest.

Suddenly, the ground shakes beneath them, almost throwing Thor off his feet had Fandral not grabbed his arm. A smile creeps onto Loki's lips when a dangerous, howling growl fills the air and the forest starts moving.

They all back away, except Thor who can't take his eyes off of Loki and his beautiful, blissful face. The flames burn high now, he can feel the heat even from where he stands, but they don't seem to bother Loki at all.

Then, a gigantic black beast emerged from the forest, its paws almost as big as a man, followed by a snake the size of a river. The creatures create panic between the guards, who turn around fleeing the scene with the judge. Only Thor and Fandral remain and witness the events that follow.

“LOKI!” Thor shouts as he sees the two creatures scurry towards his beloved, their steps earthquakes and their breaths hot wind.

Just as Thor turns away in agony, accepting his consort’s gruesome death but avoiding the spectacle with his cowardice, he hears nothing but silence.

“My King,” Fandral calls his name and Thor turns around to behold a sight he has never anticipated: the serpent and its companion lying in submission to the man clad in white on the scaffold.

With his eyes glistening with tears and unspeakable joy, Loki looks at Thor before raising his flask in the air. Determined, he throws the bottle to the ground.

With the sound of shattered glass, the scene is quickly shrouded in green smoke.

Fandral knocks Thor to the ground, covering his sovereign's body with his as the king howls the name of his beloved.

“Mama!” When Thor can lift his head again, he hears the sound of children calling for their parent.

“Mercy! Thor, my King!” a stranger’s voice can be heard from a distance, and as the smoke clears away, the king can faintly make out the shape of Loki, now holding onto two small figures in his arms.

With most of his cowardly servants having fled the site, Thor is left navigating his way through the smoke, towards the man who is once again kneeling before him.

“My king,” Loki says quietly, raising his head when Thor comes closer. The two figures he holds cling to him desperately, sobbing against his chest, but right now, Loki only looks at Thor, who is rendered completely speechless by what just happened.

He sinks to his knees in front of his consort, disbelief and confusion written all over his face.

“How is this possible?” Thor finally asks, his voice no more than a faint whisper. “What have you done?”

“They are mine, Thor. I know you have every right to be disappointed in me, but I am not the man you have always imagined me to be.” As Loki speaks, one of the children looks up at Thor in curiosity. Judging from his emerald eyes, Thor knows the boy was the serpent that had terrified so many. Now, he is safely hidden away in his mother’s arms and as harmless as a rabbit.

“Who is their father?” Thor asks, emotionless as he struggles to digest the information given to him.

“A man that my father forced me to marry when I was 15, an old sorcerer. He did not like me and when I ran away with the boys, his men caught me and he laid a curse on our children: they were turned into monsters that could only be brought back to their real forms with a potion created with the foulest matters found on earth. My silence was necessary to ensure they would not remain such creatures eternally, it was a price I had to pay for speaking against my elderly husband and plotting to leave him.” Loki speaks softly, fearing a word would trigger Thor into repeating the same cruelty inflicted on him years ago, “I was trying to hide them when you found me in the forest, and I have been yours ever since, but I am still their mother.”

“I would do the same again for my children, even if that meant going through the same horror and pain. The only regret I have is to have hurt you, and I wish I had never been found and loved by you.”

Loki clutches his children tighter to his body, avoiding Thor’s gaze.

It takes a minute or two before the silence is broken when Thor kneels down and asks one of the boys, “What’s your name, little one?”

“Fenrir, sir.” The little boy timidly replies, a stark contrast with the howls he gave minutes before.

Thor smiles before he asks, “What about your brother?”

“I am Jörmungandr!” The other boy quickly introduces himself before Fenrir can take away his chance of gaining the man’s attention.

Fenrir gets a hold of Thor's shirt, tucking on it carefully until the man looks at him again.

“Did we scare you?” He asks, his concern and innocence warming something inside Thor's chest. He smiles as the boy and gently runs a hand through his hair.

“I think you scared my men a lot,” he says amused, watching the child's eyes widen.

“Oh dear!” The boy exclaims, tears shimmering in his eyes. “We didn't mean to, right, mama? We just wanted to… to…”

“I know, dear,” Thor says softly and looks up at Loki, who looks so utterly embarrassed and scared that he seems almost like a stranger. “You wanted to protect your mother, didn't you?”

Fenrir nods and cuddles back into Loki's embrace, his tiny arms holding onto him tightly.

“Will you ever forgive me for wronging you like this, Loki?” Thor asks, his voice thick with guilt and shame. “For believing you were plotting to kill me when all you wanted was to protect your children?”

Loki looks at Thor with teary eyes, the corners of his lips jerking into a sad smile.

“I'm the one who has to ask for forgiveness,” he says quietly as a stray tear rolls down his cheek. “All this time I let you believe I was something I am not. I was neither pure nor submissive. I used you, you were right, but not because I didn't love you. I do and I always did, but I decided to stay for the wrong reasons, not for you, but for my own advantage. Can you forgive me for that? For not telling you the truth?”

“Loki…” Thor reaches out with his hand, carefully brushing his fingers over Loki's pale cheek. “There is nothing you have done I need to forgive, I promise. I thought I lost you forever, that I would be the one taking away your life… how could I ever blame you for not trusting me with the truth? You saw what I was ready to do, you had every right to not tell me.”

“Mama?” Fenrir suddenly says, his tiny voice still so unfamiliar to Thor's ears that it startles him for a moment. “Are you sad?”

“Of course not, dear,” Loki sniffs and wipes his eyes dry before giving his son a gentle smile.

“But you are crying…”

“Because I'm happy!” Loki half-laughs, half-cries and hugs the little boy tightly. “It will all be good now, right, Thor?”

Thor smiles at the sound of his name coming from Loki and nods with a smile. He leans forward and presses a tender kiss on the raven-haired man's lips, one that almost drives tears into his eyes again.

“No more tears now,” he says softly, fingers tracing over Loki's cheek. “It's all good now.

Now, with everything settled, Thor stands up before he shouts,

“Fandral, for God’s sake, bring me my horse and yours! Don’t fail me with your undying fidelity.” Fandral, who finally snaps out of his trance, runs to whistle for the horses.

Smiling, Thor unclasps the bright red cloak to cover Loki, who shivers in the cold. Unlike last time, his cloak is now also covering one of the little boys as Thor carries the other in his arms, who holds onto him as he observes his surroundings curiously.

They are going home.

------

That evening, Thor calmly explains what had happened during the day to his parents before introducing their step-grandchildren to the couple. Loki, still tired and weak from the past few days, is resting when Odin and Frigga step down from their seats to talk to the children.

When Thor has tucked the two excited boys into bed, with Fenrir half asleep and Jörmungandr still animated, he returns to his chamber and finds his beloved in bed.

Thor lies down next to his husband, as the latter quickly snuggles to his embrace.

“You should rest, my love, you are still recovering from today.” Thor quietly kisses Loki’s brows, frowning when his consort shakes his head.

“Make me yours, Thor.” he pleads, as he slowly pulls his chemise up and reveals his naked form beneath. “I can finally tell you my promises.”

There is something special about this night. It almost feels like their first time, with every kiss and every touch earning another beautiful sound from Thor's beloved consort, who finally escaped his forced silence. Thor always imagined how it would be like this, but the reality is far better than his dreams and imagination could ever be.

Loki's whispers and hushs words of adoration, devotion and need, however, are what truly turn this time into an almost sacred experience. They wash over Thor like an ocean, drowning him in his deep and intense love for Loki that is finally returned in every possible way. Loki is his, after everything, he is completely his, and Thor can't imagine anything more perfect.

------

Loki has long accepted that his children would never be introduced in the public since it would significantly affect the reputation of the royal family. Nevertheless, Thor never treats the two boys as anything other than his sons. He dotes on the two, teaching them swordfights and spending his leisure polishing new wooden swords for them to play with. He even takes them to the library and employs a group of tutors to educate the two.

Loki is glad to see the love Thor has showered upon his sons, especially when he himself is not in a condition to thoroughly care for them.

After all, he is lying in bed with the future heir in his belly.

The breaking of the spell seemed to have freed his body from years of barrenness. Two months after their reconciliation, Loki started to suffer morning sickness and the doctor confirmed the child was likely conceived on that fateful night when their hearts had become one again.

Thor can never stop smiling whenever he beholds Loki in this state, protected and loved while growing their child.

A child of their own.

“What would happen if it was a girl?” Loki asks one night when Thor approaches the bed and shrugs off his robe.

“Then we would have a Queen for Asgard, plain and simple,” Thor replies without pondering on the matter.

Hela was born on a winter’s night, with her eyes sharing Thor’s ocean blue shade and her hair inheriting her mother’s raven colour. She is a beautiful baby, nested in the arms of Queen Frigga who happily presents her to Fenrir and Jörmungandr as their sister.  

One day, the two boys would become their sister's knights, protecting the Queen and their kingdom alike. They are both proud and excited after the little girl's birth, vowing at her crib that they will never let any harm come to her and neither Thor nor Loki could be happier when they hear those words.

Since the day the two have crossed each other’s path, they are meant to be together: nothing would be able to tear them apart anymore.

#Thorki #Thunderfrost #Thorki au #myfics #the-sun-shining-on-thorki #Cowritten #Mpreg #Fairytale au

[sherrybaby14]

Two Words

 This is for @faegal04 The One Who Hates Thanksgiving Challenge 

My prompts is :   “All right. Rock, paper, scissors for who has to tell the whore to leave.”

Summary:  You return to the clubhouse after being on the run for the past year.  Are you ready to return to your old life? 

Warnings:  Smut, dom/sub undertones, talks of ownership, mention of self-harm.  

Characters: Chibs x Reader (This is my first Sons of Anarchy story!) 

Tags: @captainemwinchester @kawaiirepublic @buckyscrystalqueen @blondesouthsquad @purplemuse89 @screeching-pterodactyl-fangirl @taintedgenre @roschelesworld @kellyn1604 @negan--is--god @idonthavehusbandsihavelovers @mac5323 @marauderice @thecynicalnerd

               The handle was right there. You reached for it, only to pull your hand back, cradling it as if you almost placed your palm into a pit of snakes.  You bit your lip. That was exactly what you were doing, diving right back into a pit of vipers.  

                You turned around and almost broke into a sprint, you envisioned running so fast and hard that your heart would explode. But if you did that the running would never stop.  And you were tired.  Running was no longer an option.  It was time to go home, if he would take you.

                The door creaked open and you stepped inside, your nose smacked with the scent of stale beer and cigarette butts.  Empty bottle littered the clubhouse bar, but it looked like someone already started picking up, you expect it to be dirtier considering the night before was Black Wednesday.

                Your eyes went to the mugshot wall, unsurprisingly a few additional photos had been added.  The sneakers you wore didn’t make much noise as you walked over, interested to see who was arrested this year.   There he was, the picture newer proving he had a run-in with the law again.  Your heart started throbbing at the sight of him.  

                As if the photo put you in a trance you lifted your hand to run your fingers down his face while the back of your brain screamed at you to run.  Running was a better option than this life.  At least when you were on the run you had freedom or a sense of it.  Here you would be trapped again, owned.  You winced your eyes shut and tried to fight off the anxiety.  Owned maybe, but protected.  Fed. Cherished even.  

                “Party’s over lady.” An unfamiliar voice made you turn. “It’s Thanksgiving.  Get the fuck out of here.”

                The prospect didn’t look at you as he threw the empty bottles into the garbage bag with a clink.  You had a feeling this was how he was spending his holiday.  It never occurred to you that the first person you ran into would be a stranger.  You blinked your tears away and tried to think of what to say.

                “I mean it.  Get the fuck out of here.” The prospect walked around the bar and grabbed your upper arm. “I have enough to do and I’d like to get to Gemma’s before all the turkey is gone.”  

                He dragged you towards the door, literally taking you out with the trash.  You didn’t like his hand on you and felt the panic rise in your chest.  Maybe this is what you deserved, what would happen anyway, but it shouldn’t be decided by a prospect.  

                Mustering all your strength you pulled your fist back and flung it towards his cheek.  Your strength was low, but luckily your aim was crap too and you nailed him right in the throat.  He dropped your arm and the garbage bag and brought his hands to his knees as he almost keeled over, struggling for air.  

                You took a few steps back and tripped, landing on your ass with a thud.  The prospect looked at you with pure rage.  You’d seen girls beaten in this place before and knew he was within his right to retaliate, especially if you were some Crow Eater, but that was never your title.  

                “I don’t have time for this shit!” The prospect gave you a disgusted look before walking towards the back. “JAX?”

                He called a name familiar to you. This was it, your last chance to retreat.  To cancel your asinine plan and return to the free world.  You heard footsteps and scrambled to your feet, taking quick steps towards the exit.  Your hand was on the door when the footsteps entered the room.

                “This is what you were scared of?” The sound of Jax smacking the prospect on the back of the head echoed across the space. “Looks like she’s taking off anyway.”

                “Or she’s blocking the exit and is going to attack prospect again.” Tig laughed. “Get out here honey. There’ll be another party tomorrow, but holidays are for family.”

                Family.  The word was always foreign to you. The only time you had any sense of what it meant was when you were under this roof.  Of course, it wasn’t the typical bond, but you always felt like you belonged when you were here.   Sure it came with rules and obedience and the occasional punishment, but now that felt like a small price to pay.  

                “Alright. Rock, paper, scissors for who has to make the whore leave.” Tig clearly hadn’t changed.  

                Not wanting to wait for one of them to strong arm you again you closed your eyes, took a deep breath, and turned around. When you opened your lids none of them were looking at you.  Tig and Jax were readying to play their game, but before Jax threw he glanced up.  The smile on his face vanished to a look of shock.

                “What the fuck man?” Tig held his fingers in the shape of a scissor and looked up at Jax.  

                The VP gave Tig a smack and he turned his vision towards you as well.  The playful smile vanished and he blinked several times, both of them probably thought they were staring at a ghost.  

                “Hello Y/N.”  Jax kept his voice low.  Without breaking eye contact he nodded towards the hall.  

                Tig disappeared and your heart fluttered, no doubt about who he was going to retrieve.   Your hand went behind you and grabbed the door handle, again fearing this was a mistake.

                “Don’t do that Darling.” Jax shook his head. “I’d have to chase you and nobody wants that.”  

                He held his arms in front of him as if he were cornering a wild animal.  

                “You’re here for a reason.  I don’t think you want to run again anyway, do you?”  His blue eyes got closer, making you feel smaller than you were.  

                Your voice caught in your throat as your back hit the door.  Jax continued to stalk towards you.  You wished your body would melt into the frame and you could vanish from this place once again.  You could feel the heat of his breath on your face and peeked your eyes open.  His arm was stretched over his head and you looked to see him slide a bolt into place, locking the exit.  

                Something in you started to break again.  You were trapped, but this time you had done it to yourself.  Returning here was an awful idea.  Panic filled your veins.

                “Y/N?”  Your attention snapped to behind the bar.

                The soft Irish accent filled your ears and your toes started to curl.  Jax started to back away and you felt exposed.  

                “Fuck.” Chib’s voice centered you on him again.  

                It felt like nobody else was alive on the entire planet as you looked into his eyes.  He grunted before jumping over the bar and stalking towards you.  Your hands went to his face and you started to stroke his cheek, almost unsure if he was real or not.  He wrapped his fingers around your upper arms and studied you, in the same way, his eyes trailing every bit of your skin with possessiveness.

                All your fears vanished in a single moment and a sense of shame came over you.  Since you had arrived you were at a loss for words, but now only two seemed to matter.

                “I’m sorry.”  You dropped your head to his shoulder and breathed in Chib’s scent.  Leather, gunsmoke, and a hint of mint.  That was your man.

                He slid his hand around your back and pulled you against him, squeezing you tight.  You gripped onto his vest, never wanting to let him go.  Time seemed to stand still.  You weren’t sure if Chibs held you for a minute or an hour.  Finally, you calmed down enough to ask a question.  

                “Are you mad at me?” You looked up at the man who had taken such care of you, ruled your life with an iron fist, kept you in line, declared you as his property.  

                “Furious.”  He brushed your hair back and placed a kiss on your forehead. “You have no idea how much trouble you’re in Baby Doll.”  

                A shiver went down your body, knowing you deserved whatever punishment Chibs wanted to dole out.  One of your biggest fears about coming back to this place was being replaced or turned away. You nodded your head, hoping if you agreed with him neither of those things would happen.  

                Chibs leaned down and placed his shoulder on your stomach, your body went forward as he stood up, your ass swinging in the air and head down by your ankles.  Even upside down the walk to his room was familiar.  He kept one arm firmly around your waist, securing you to his shoulder.

                He opened the door to his room and kicked it shut. You heard his reach around and flip the deadbolt, you were grateful, it meant he wasn’t going to toss you out yet.   In one motion he set you down on the edge of the bed.  You sat up as he knelt before you. His salt and pepper beard and hair had grown since you’d left.   Chibs started to untie your sneakers and you lifted your foot to help him.

                “Where have you been?” His accent made your stomach flutter as he pulled off the first shoe.

                “As far west as Michigan.” You lifted your other foot. “Small towns off the highway.”

                “Did you hitchhike?” He pulled your other shoe off.

                “Yes.” You wouldn’t lie to him.

                He looked up at you, not trying to hide the anger in his eyes.  

                “You know better than that.” He yanked off a sock. “Did anyone hurt you while you were on your little adventure?”

                You shook your head.  There were a few close calls, but you always carried mace.  You didn’t think Chibs needed the details at the moment.  His disappointment made you cross your arms as if you could cover the last year.  He pulled off your other sock and then reached up and grabbed your wrist, unfolding your cloak of protection.

                “What did you do for money?”  He grabbed your other wrist.  

                “Waitress.” You knew what he was asking. “I couldn’t hold down a job.  Whenever anyone with a cut came in I was scared they would notice me.”  

                Chibs pulled your other wrist forward.  He grabbed the bottom of your shirt and pulled it over your head.  He flung the long sleeved item to the floor and pulled your hands together.  He flipped them over and pushed them together. The tattoos on each wrist forming your symbol, letting anyone who could read them understand who you belonged to and where to find him.  

                “Or were you scared they would notice this?” Chibs raised an eyebrow.  

                You nodded and he sighed.  

                “I’ll have to get you one in a more public place.” He stroked the side of your neck. “One you won’t be able to hide so easily.”  

                You had struggled to keep your wrists covered, there was no way your hair would be enough to cover a neck tattoo.  You let out a whimper at the thought.  Chibs grabbed your chin.  

                “You just came back and already thinking about running again?” His eyes went dark. “You should be grateful for my marks.”

               “I won’t run again.” You softened your expression. “It was a mistake. I’m sorry.”  

                “I know you are.” Chibs nodded.  He dropped his glance towards your jeans and started to undo your fly.  You didn’t stop him. “I spent a lot of time searching for you Y/N. I was scared you were dead.  Do you know what that feels like?”

                “Yes.” You thought about all the nights he disappeared on club missions, how many times you didn’t think he was coming back.

                Your eyes caught him and there was a hint of sorrow in them.  He shook his head and instead tugged on your jeans.  You lifted your butt and they slid off, leaving you in only your bra and panties.  Chibs tossed the jeans with your shirt and then moved to sit on the bed next to you.  You turned towards him.  His eyes studied you, no doubt looking for signs of trauma.

                “I stayed clean.  I didn’t hurt myself either.”  You wanted him to be proud of that, proud of you.  

                “But you wanted to?” Chibs asked. “Is that why you came back to me?”  

                You looked away in shame, feeling like a weak human being. Chibs put his finger under your chin and tilted your face back towards his.  

                “You have zero privileges or trust.”  His eyes darkened again. “You have to start at the bottom again and earn your way back.  Every night until I see fit you’re going to receive a punishment and you’re going to thank me for it.  Do you understand?”

                “Yes.” You hated it when he was mad at you, but you did deserve it. “I’m sorry.”

                “Starting tomorrow.” Chib’s lips twitched into a smile.

                “What?” You started to ask.

                “Tonight, I’m just thankful you’re back.” He licked his lips. “And I’m going to give you several reasons never to leave me again.”

                Before you could comprehend his statement his lips were on yours.  They were soft and inviting.  You let out a squeak of surprised and his hand went behind your head, holding you in place.  He parted them and slid his tongue into your mouth.  The immediate passion he brought was so much you were sure your legs would have given out if you weren’t already seated.  

                Chib’s other hand went up your back and unhooked your bra. It felt forward and he tossed it away.  His hand went straight to your chest and he kneaded your mound. You let out a whimper, forgetting how good the man’s touch was.  His fingers were rough and calloused, bringing a different sensation on your tender buds as he tweaked them into stiffness.  

                “You’ve been a very bad girl Y/N.” The Irish tone sent another wave of arousal through you.  Chibs resumed the kiss in between speaking and started to slide his hand down your stomach over your panties. “But fuck, I missed you.”  

                His fingertips brushed over your core and you let out a moan. He responded with a chuckle before gathering the crotch of your panties in his fist and yanking them down.  You brought your hands up to his cheeks as he pushed you backward, laying you down while his mouth was still over yours.  

                Chib’s hand slid up your bare thigh until his fingers were at your slit.  He pushed down until they were at your entrance and inserted one with ease.  You hadn’t realized how wet you were for him, but honestly, your body started readying itself before you even stepped foot in the clubhouse.  

                “Even though you’ve been so naughty you’ve kept your training.”  Chibs moved to your neck. “Prepared for me already.”  

                He added a second finger and you arched your back as he curled them forward, working against the fleshy patch on your interior.  He licked up your neck and stopped at your ear.

                “Tell me Y/N.”  The accent would be the death of you. “How many men touched you like this?”

                “None.”  You shook your head. “Only you.”  

                There was a look of approval on his face and you craned your neck, wanting to hear two words on his lips, remind you that you aren’t all that bad.  

                “Un-un.” He shook his head. “You don’t deserve that. You have to earn it.”  

                He curled his fingers faster and you cried out, gripping onto the side of his arm.  

                “Be lucky I’m allowing this.”  He went back to kissing your neck.

                There was no denying the tightness forming inside of you, the way your insides were growing needy as you started rocking your body back and forth with Chib’s hand.  You always focused so much on your reasons for leaving it was easy to forget this was one of the main ones for returning.  The way only he could make you feel.  

                “Now cum, like the good girl you can be.” Chib’s said those two words and that was it for you.  

                A shudder went through your entire body as you exploded on his hand.  Your body gushing juices around his fingers as a ringing started forming in your ears. His hand disappeared and your head lulled back on the pillow.  

                You spread your legs and bent your knees, knowing what was coming next.  Good girl, that was what you wanted to be for him.  You wished you could erase the last year.  You wondered what your life would have been if only you’d stayed.  

                You gasped as Chib’s started sliding into your hole.  His cock always managed to fill you up to the point you were unsure you could take any more. Time had not changed that and soon his head was taping at your cervix.  

                Your hands went back to his shoulders as you steadied yourself, knowing he was about to start pounding into you, but right now your body was for him and you would give him anything he wanted.  You gripped his t-shirt and let out a whimper.

                “No.” He looked down on you. “Right now you’re the only one naked.  You don’t deserve to feel my skin on yours.”  

                He leaned down and the leather of his vest pushed against your nipples as he started to thrust inside of you.  The sensation wasn’t painful, but it would have felt much better to feel him bare against you.  Chibs didn’t start out slow as he continued pumping in and out of you.

                He started to roll his pelvis, brushing against your ignored clit. The action made you squirm against him and try to position yourself in a way that you received more pressure on the engorged bud.  Chibs entertained your efforts and started moving in a corresponding way.

               It didn’t take long until you were coming undone again, a withering mess underneath him.  Your orgasm was so powerful, you could feel it at your fingertips.  Chibs did not slow down, and every thrust sent you back into euphoria, but there was one piece of information you had to share before your paramour joined you in climax.  

                “I’m not on the pill.” You whispered into his ear.

                He always took care of your medications, of course, there was no way you would have continued them after you ran away.  That would have meant a paper trail.  

                Chib’s ignored your comment and let out another grunt. Then he pushed in hard and you cried out again, the waves of your orgasm continuing as he pressed into your cervix. His cock was blowing up inside of you, coating your womb with his white juices.  

                “You’re still in so much trouble Y/N.”  Chibs let out heavy breaths.  “Tomorrow.”  

                He pulled out of you and rolled over on to his back.  You turned on to his chest and shut your eyes as you cuddled against him.  Maybe if he got you pregnant the punishment would be cut short, then you would be his good girl again, and he would have to forgive you completely.  

                “Thank you.”  Now those were the only two words you wanted to say.

#sons of anarchy smut #chibs smut #chibs x reader #soa #soa smut #soa chibs #chibs imagine #fanfic #smut #theonewhohatesthanksgivingchallenge

[wallewizzle]

BTS Confesses/Maknae Line

Jimin

You had talked to Jimin for months. The keyword here was talked. You had no idea who he was when you met at a chatroom. But time flew by and you couldn’t get enough of his sweet voice and laughter. But now you found the courage to finally meet him after a long time of his pleading and pouting.

He couldn’t believe it when he first set eyes on you. He had seen pictures and knew you were cute but you always denied him video-calls so one small part of him was doubting that you were you. You weren’t cute. You were beautiful. Every feeling he thought he only imagined came true the second he laid eyes on you. He loved you. You hadn’t known who he was when you started to talk and when he told you nothing changed. It felt like you didn’t care and that blew him wide open. Your words got to him, everything you said and the way you listened. How you teased him and made weird sounds when you were being teased in return. His heart fluttered every time you called and he found himself thinking about you in the most inconvenient situations.

You had been hanging out for a week now and he was trying to tell you every day since the first day you met but his nerves got in the way. And that´s why he was here, by the bar, staring at you while you jumped around on the dancefloor. Tae danced with you and it made his stomach clench. A flash of jealousy rushed through him when he finished his sixth beer even though he knew he was already too drunk. 

Shots and beer blurring his mind and probably his judgement. That´s why he kept away from you all night until you said you wanted to go home. He couldn’t let you leave alone and this might be his only chance to be alone with you.

”I sho…shouldn't be drunk”. He mumbled as he fell down on your couch. ”You shouldn’t”. You agreed and he sighed as you tried to untie his shoes, thinking that it would be safest if he just stayed there for the night. ”It´s your fault!” He slurred and watched how you tried to hold in a light snicker. ”Well, thank you!” You said and he grunted. ”You´re so cute”. He looked at you and felt how his whole body warmed up. You felt tingles all through your body but pushed it away knowing that he was drunk and delirious. ”You´re cute too”.

”You don´t get it!” He complained and grabbed your shirt and pushed you down over him. You almost stumbled into his lap. You shifted down to his side not trusting yourself to be that close to him. ”I´m in love with you! I have been trying to…Fuck!” Jimin felt his stomach starting a riot and flew up in pursuit of the bathroom. He hurled down over the toilet and threw up every single beer and shot he chugged down.

”Jimin? Are you okay?” You heard him throwing up but stayed there frozen. What did just happen? He was drunk. He was just really drunk.

”Jimin? Are you okay?” You mumbled as you knocked on the door to the bathroom. He groaned and you pushed it open to find him on his knees in front of the toilet. He spat furiously as the bile filled his throat. ”It´s okay…” You tried to comfort him while filling a glass with water. ”Here, drink this”. He took it without looking and muttered to himself. He shook his head and refluxed again making you cringe. You lowered yourself behind him and placed your hand on his back to sooth him.

”I´m sorry”. He mumbled after a while and tried his best to stand up. He leaned against the sink and watched you through the mirror. You smiled to make sure he go that it was fine.

”Who hasn’t ended the night in the bathroom at some point?” You snickered and he scoffed. ”Yeah? Well, I´m sorry”. He said again and chugged down another glass of water. He looked at you again and you shivered. There was something in his eyes. Something that made you want to grab his waist and push your chest against his back. You cleared your throat and walked out of the bathroom and the tension it held. You quickly jumped out of your pants and hid under the comforter as you heard the shower. He was in your apartment, in the shower. Oh god!

”Ehm…is it okay if I stay here tonight?” He asked as he stuck his head out behind the wall. His hair was wet and that cute nervous smile played on his lips. You quickly nodded and looked away as he hurried over to the bed with nothing more than his underwear. You looked away quickly but his bare chest was etched on you cornea. You felt his arm gracing yours as he laid down but kept you eyes set on the ceiling. Suddenly you felt his fingers tracing your arm down to your hand. He rested his fingers against your palm and tickled it slightly before he took your hand in his.

”I meant what I said”. He mumbled and you inhaled deeply. What the? ”I just didn’t know how to say it so I…I got drunk instead”. He said searching for your beautiful eyes but you didn’t budge. You couldn’t believe him. ”It´s okay if you don´t feel the same! I just…I had to tell you”. He muttered almost like a whisper and you shook you head and tilted it so you could see him.

”I do”. You said and watched his blank expression. It quickly transformed into the biggest smile. His hand clenched on to yours but when he rolled over to his side you stopped him. ”But..could you tell me again tomorrow so I know that you…that you really do? When you´re not drunk?” You stuttered and he just traced your hair with the hand that just left yours. He nodded and stared at your lips and nodded again. ”Okay”. He said and placed his head on the pillow. You rolled over to your side and instantly felt his hand on your waist. He pulled you closer to him and sighed heavenly as you had your back pushed against his chest. He placed one gentle kiss on your shoulder but that was enough for you to curl your toes.

”I will tell you as many times as you need me to Jagi”. He mumbled and nuzzled his nose down your neck. You felt his breath on your skin and soon you drifted away only wishing that those words would leave his lips when you woke up.

Jungkook

Jungkook was one of your best friends. You had known him for years and he was a natural part of your weekly routine. You talked to him at least ones a week and he always texted you good night. But the last few weeks he hadn’t. It was starting to bug you. You texted him and you called and the one time he answered he sounded so distant. Like he couldn’t be bothered with you at all. You got so angry. He, your friend, treated you like air without even an explanation. He had been down before but always had a reason for it. He was busy, overworked or stressed but now, this time, he didn’t have an explanation. He said he was tired and that was it. He hung up before you had the chance to ask him why. But now you stood in front of him and demanding an explanation but still, he had no reason.

”Are you fucking kidding me? Why are you like this? I haven’t done anything to you! NO! You know what? You´re supposed to be my friend and you do me like this? That´s it! Fuck you!” You shouted and pushed your closed fists against your thighs. You swiped a tear from your cheek and grunted as you turned around. He couldn’t feel his heart throbbing and his jaw clenching shut. He was so angry and he didn’t know what caused it. Maybe the fact that you were going to leave him? He knew this was it. You would.

”I don´t want to be your fucking friend!” Jungkook yelled as you grabbed the door. You stopped for a second and turned to look at him. ”Wow! You´re a complete asshole and I never knew”. You huffed and shook your head. How couldn’t you get it? You closed the door and he didn’t do anything about it. You were never going to be his. If you still didn’t get it then that meant you never thought about it. You would never look at him like that. This way he wouldn’t have to destroy everything you ever had. In time you might be his friend again and he would be fine with that. Maybe one day his body wouldn’t hurt seeing you with other guys. Maybe one day his heart wouldn’t explode at the sight of you. He sunk down on his bed and felt the tears falling down his cheeks. He pushed his palms against his face and sobbed his heart out. Reality just hit him. You would never, never be his.

…

”Alex?” Jin caught you on your way out and you couldn’t hide your tears from him or anyone else. Your lungs hurt and it felt like you were going to throw up at any time.

”I´m okay. I just have to…” You stuttered, trying to focus on keeping you tears back. Jin just nodded and placed his book on the counter. ”I´ll drive you”. He offered and you nodded. You just want to go home.

”What happened?” Jin asked as you turned on the heat. You sighed deeply and felt your breath stuttering. ”He hates me”. You cried. ”I don´t know what I did”.

”Oh he doesn’t hate you Alex”. He shook his head and swiped his comforting eyes over your puffy face. ”He does!” You exclaimed and he prolonged his head shaking. ”And I love him!” You muttered and Jin´s eyes grew bigger. How could that information shock him? ”But it´s okay! It will be fine. It has to be fine”. You mumbled to yourself and he did the same. Suddenly he stood up on the breaks and backed up the car towards oncoming traffic.

”JIN!” You exclaimed and grabbed the dashboard. ”What are you doing?” You saw how a car stopped behind you and the horn echoed in your ear. He did a U-turn and you were on your way back. ”JIN! STOP! I´ll take the bus just let me off”. You pleaded but he just mumbled.

”I´m sorry Alex but enough is enough”. He muttered. ”What do you want from me?” You sighed and felt how your stomach started an even bigger riot. ”I can´t go back Jin! Just park right here”. He didn’t answer and his eyes were determined. He wouldn’t do what you begged him to.

”You love him? Like how? A friend? Or as a…Something more?” He asked with a straight face. You leaned back against the chair and covered your chest with your arms. It hurt just thinking about it. ”He´s my best friend”. You started and sniffled. You thought about it, what to say. Nobody really knew. ”I…I have always loved him and now…I want more. Maybe it´s because he has been ignoring me. And that´s stupid because why would I have those feelings towards someone who treats me like that? I just missed him you know. I started thinking about him and it was different. Like my heart…it started to flutter just at the thought of him…I´m so stupid”. You shook your head. ”So please Jin! Just take me home. If you care for me at all just take me home”.

”I´ll take you home”. He said and nodded his head against the road. You started to shake as you saw their building. Jin took his phone out and wrote something down.YouI heard the sound of a message sent. What was he trying to do? He drove down to the garage, stopped and jumped out without a sound.

”Jin? What are you doing?” You asked feeling how your eyes burnt. You wanted him to come back. You was scared. The elevator pinged and when the door opened your heart stopped. Jungkook came out searching the garage for something. His eyes met yours and you tried to sunk through the seat. Jin told him something and then disappeared into the elevator. You heard his heavy boots against the concrete and the panic took over. You grabbed the keys still in the ignition and locked the doors.  He came up to the door and you looked down at your hands as he pulled the handle.

”Alex…” He sighed and you just shook your head. You looked out the other way and bit down your lip as I felt it trembling. ”Y/N open the door…please! I have to talk to you”. He pleaded but you couldn’t. You couldn’t look at him. If you did you knew would cry. If you even opened your mouth nothing would come out. You would only cry. ”If you don´t I will just talk to you like this. Screaming it all out for everyone to hear. I don´t care!” He muttered and you squeezed your arms tighter around myself. You leaned back and forth and with a sigh you opened the door.

He silently jumped inside behind the steering wheel. He cleared his throat and you actually thought about running out. You couldn’t take his words anymore. You hated Jin. How could he do this? You fought the anxiety but lost. A lump built up down your throat. Your breath started to shiver and your face felt thick. It felt like all air got sucked out of you.

”I should have done this a long time ago”. He started and took a deep breath. You envied that breath. ”I just don´t know how to say it. So I guess I should just…just say it”. Did he just stutter? You felt his eyes on you but you just waited. Just say it! Be done with it. ”I love you Alex. And not just like a friend. It´s so much more. You´re everything I want. Your…I don´t know. If you don´t feel the same I can do that. I can do the friend-thing but I…” He turned around with his body against yours and you were just sitting there, frozen and in shock. You looked at him and his brown eyes found your soul. ”I had to tell you Y/N. Seeing you with Kevin is…”

”Kevin´s gay!” You stated. When all you really wanted was to tell him that you loved him back. But you didn’t get it. You shook your head and he lost his posture. He looked so defeated.”Why?”

”Why what?” He mumbled and bit down on his lip. ”Why do you love me?” You asked feeling how your heart ached, waiting for his answer. He went back to sitting straight and leaned down over the steering wheel. ”I fell in love with you the first time I saw your smile. The first day you walked inside with Lee. But I ignored it. It wasn’t professional and it wasn’t logical to feel that way so soon. Getting to know you made it harder but I kept it hidden from everyone and myself. We became friends and I didn’t want to ruin that. You´re the most important person in my life. You make me so happy Y/N. Your laughter, the way you care about people around you. Your cute frown, your sexy brain and the way you make me feel. Like I can do anything. As long as you´re with me I can do anything”. He muttered and nodded to himself. His nods turned into a shake and he sighed.

”I just got what he meant”. You smiled and Jungkook looked at you with big eyes. ”Jin! He told me he was taking me home. I didn’t get it but I do now”. Jungkook glared at you and lowered his gaze before it came back up. ”What?” He asked and you looked down at your hands again. ”You´re home”. You nodded and he inhaled deeply. ”I am?” He questioned your words but you just kept on nodding your head. His hand moved up to your face and he gently pushed your hair back behind your ear. He never touched you like that. His eyes glittered as he stroke your jaw and licked his lips. He grabbed your neck and graced your lips with his. Your chest unconsciously being pulled against his as he kissed you.

”Tell me”. He purred with his forehead leaning on your. You saw his beautiful eyes set on your lips, waiting for the words to come out. You closed your eyes and felt his breath against your lip and you wanted to suck it in. You wanted to share his breath.

”I love you Jungkook”. You mumbled and looked down at his chest.You clenched your fist around his black t-shirt and needed him to kiss you again. He smirked and let out the sweetest chuckle. He slid his hand around your neck and pushed his smiling lips against yours. You couldn’t help but to snicker and you ended up sharing smiles, laughter and sweet kisses. 

TaeHyung

”What the fuck is wrong with you?” You screamed and slapped away his hand that reached out for you. He looked so confused and your heart ached for him. But you couldn’t be like this anymore. ”I get it if you don´t like me! But seriously Tae? Don´t fucking mess with me like this!” You saw the way the way he had flirted with that blonde in front of you and it hurt. So fucking bad. 

He opened his mouth but nothing came out. You looked at his parted lips and sighed. You wanted to cry. How could you be so stupid and tell him this? I just ruined everything. His shocked face told you that he had no idea about your feelings towards him. But how couldn’t he? Everybody else knew. You turned your heels and shook your head. You left him there where he was wishing that he would stop you.

Tae looked at your back as you ran off. He felt frozen. What just happened? Did you just? What? He pushed back his hair and looked around for some kind of sign that this just happened. He looked over to the street that you just walked on as a smile grew bigger on his face.

He called you what felt like the thousand time this past two days. You looked down at the phone and thought about block him. But it was also the thousand time you and you always shook your head at the question.

”Just answer! You have to have this talk sooner or later”. I muttered to myself and slid the screen to open and with that you answered his call.

”Y/N?” His voice made your stomach ache. You weren’t ready for this. You wanted to have him in your life, in whatever way but you knew he was calling it quits.

He looked down at screen and pushed the mic up making sure you could hear him through the headphones. He looked up at Jimin who gave him the thumbs up before leaving the studio.

”Y/N? Just answer. I can hear you breathe”. He remembered the way you had scolded him outside the club. How your breath made your chest tighten the fabric of your shirt. He had wanted to touch you then just like many other times. Always sure that you would turn him down. But now, even after the outburst you made he still wasn’t sure. Maybe it was the alcohol talking and now, sober, the logic played a bigger part. He knew you. He knew you well. You worried too much. You would most certainly have thought about it. Weight your pros and cons.

”Hi…” You said awkwardly but had no idea what to say after that. You wanted to apologize  for saying anything in the first place. Ask him to forget all about it. But it was too late and how could you even see him again after this?

”I want to see you. Can we switch to FaceTime?” Those words never scared you before but right now you were petrified. ”Please?” He pleaded and you bit your lip. You just couldn’t turn him down. ”Yeah…” You sighed and started the camera. You laid down on your stomach and placed the phone in front of you. Your hands shook to much to hold it. When you saw him your felt your whole body starting to hurt. Even your fingers got a gentle cramp. If only you could touch him. You looked down not able to look at him. You just couldn’t.

”Hey beautiful!” He said and you could see the smile on his face without even looking. He taught you were beautiful. More now then ever before, now he knew that you wanted him. Even if you didn’t look into the camera her saw those big dark eyes. That sun kissed skin and porcelain lips. They looked so soft.

”Tae…” He knew you didn’t believe him when he called you beautiful. You never had.

”Y/N…just don’t be like that…I…” He wanted to just say it but you interrupted him with a quick inhale. ”I´m sorry! Okay? I shouldn’t have…I didn’t…” You mumbled and he watched you with a deep frown. ”What? You didn’t mean it?” He muttered quietly. You pushed your lip up against you nose and shrugged your shoulder. ”We can say that I didn’t if it makes you feel better? Maybe you could forget all about it?” You looked down at your sheets and missed the smile he flashed you.

”I don´t want to forget about it. And it would defiantly not make me feel better”. You looked up at him and his sneaky grin. ”So? You´re fine with this? I´m not sure I am…” You sighed and he just stared at you. ”Wow! You really are slow”. He sniffled and you got frustrated. Just as you were about to scold him for it he hushed you. ”Sch! Just listen”. He said and that was the first time he ever spoke to you in such a strict voice. He smiled at you to take off the edge. He had you attention.

”I have been in love with you since…we were ten. Every girl I have met is not even measuring close to you. I have tried to hide it and I guess I really did. Well, everybody else knew. I guessed since you didn’t notice it never even slipped your mind that I could be something more. So…if you do…just tell me”. He said and looked up at you with a blank expression. When he realized that he was staring he smiled and you felt as your heart was going to explode. Just as you were about to burst you ended the call and placed the phone in front of you. It felt too much to even touch it. What just happened? Your phone buzzed and you jumped of the bed and looked at it once again. I love you. I love YOU. He said that he loved you. You saw flashes of his texts.

What happened?

Y/N?

Can you answer?

He called again and you fumbled with your phone until it rested peacefully in your hands.

”What happened? What did you…?” He sounded so worried and you felt so bad for hanging up in the first place.

”I´m sorry! I just…If this is a joke to you then…” You muttered and he chuckled. ”This is not a joke! I really mean it. Everything I said”. He said and you shook your head. ”I just wish I could be there. Be with you”. He mumbled with a voice you never heard on him before. His voice was lower and more…eager?

”I miss you”. You mumbled and for some reason you body started to heat up. ”Yeah? So tell me, do you love me?” He asked and you snickered thankful that he couldn’t see you blush. ”I do”. Your voice cracked and he sighed. ”You do what?” He teased you and your heart was bursting.

#bts #bts jimin #bts jungkook #bts taehyung #bts imagines #bts smut