#I should also collect all the prompts that never made it into Monster Fic inside some anthologies. There is one but meh it's untidy | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thelittleboyfromloveactually · 3 years ago

Text

Two Shorten the Road

part 1

joel dawson x reader

warnings: cussing? idk, bad writing.....fluff, cuteness, monsters(is this a warning), mentions of death, SPOILERS

word count: 2154

prompt: when your best friend decides to leave your colony to go find the love of his life, you decide to join him on his journey even if you aren’t so happy about where this journey is going

Welp I did it, I took it into my own hands. I am writing a joel dawson series. Because we👏need 👏more👏joel👏fics👏 it’s basically the movie, almost the same script but obviously slightly different…ENJOY! <3

No one in my generation or later had a typical upbringing, I mean some of us did but then the world ended. This type of thing sounds straight out of some apocalyptic movie, but we basically live in one now. Agatha 616, an asteroid heading straight for earth, I know, so original. So we all came together and did what we do best, blow things up. Yup, we blew up teh asteroid, and humanity was saved! We thought. But here’s the thing about rockets, they are made of a bunch of chemical compounds which eventually rained back down on earth. Suddenly there were these Aileen creatures that mutated and started eating us. Ants, lizards, roaches, crocodiles, you name it. Our president was even killed by a giant moth. Ya….not so original now huh? We suddenly need tanks to kill ants, oh man I remember the good old days when a shoe would do just fine. Sometimes even the tanks didn’t work. Eventually the really big ones and our military took each other out and we lost 95% of the human population in a year! Those of us who survived hid, bunkers, caves, panic rooms, all around the world. So for the last seven years I’ve been hiding in an underground bunker. It’s really not as bad as it sounds, and it’s better than getting eaten alive. It’s a great group of people and we all love each other.

“Are you sure they’re asleep?”

“Who?”

“Y/N and joel!��

“Oh ya I’m sure”

“Joel? Y/n?”

“He’s asleep”

Actually we are both awake. Me and my best friend joel have kinda mastered faking being asleep. Our beds are right across from each other so we normally just lie there and make stupid faces at each other. We are the only two single people in our bunker. Nice huh? Joel is my best friend. I met him when I joined the colony. He’s the sweetest. It’s funny cause everyone thinks we should just have sex already because that’s literally all everyone else does. But we are way above that. Anyway, joel is in love with his girlfriend from before the colony, her name is Aimee. With one “I” and two “e”s. He loves to talk about her, he writes her letters. So in reality, I am the only one who is not in love in this bunker. I’ve never had a boyfriend, ever, even before the world ended.

We don’t really get any sleep. The moaning kinda keeps us awake. I got up and out of my bed and headed for the kitchen. I heard Joel’s bed creak and then his footsteps as he followed behind me. Another annoying thing about being down here is that to get to the kitchen from my room, you have to walk though other people’s bedrooms. Oh shit, they are busy, why would they leave their door open. Me and Joel stopped.

“Oh” joel and I said in unison

“Hey Y/N! Hey Joel!” Ava said

“Oh hey Ava” Joel said, we didn’t dare look over to our left.

“Y/N how’s it going?” Tim asked

“T-totally good tim, h-how are you doing” I asked

“Yeah, good” he responded

“I uh we couldn’t sleep” said Joel looking at the ceiling

“Ya we know the feeling” Ava said with a laugh

“Yeah probably not for the…..same reasons” joel said looking straight ahead

“Your guyses door was open, did you…did you know that?” I asked

“Yeah we know” they said

I shook my head and knitted my eyebrows together

“Okay” joel trailed off

Ever since Tim’s parents were eaten by a swarm of termites he and Ava have gotten really close, in every way.

“Okay, goodnight” joel said as we walked

Basically everyone is coupled up down here, a baby was born last winter! Welcome to the apocalypse kid. Ok if we ever get out of this, that would be an awesome story to tell your kids. “Oh ya I was born in an underground bunker doing a monster apocalypse” “yes exactly like World War Z but with bugs bigger than a 5 story building”. I mean come on.

So your probably wonder how the hell we get food, we’ll we have a cow. Gurdy. Gurdy is great. We also have a hunting party that brings back whatever they can from the surface. It’s gotten harder and harder, cause we ran out of bullets. And facing one of those things with a handmade weapon is just as hard as it sounds. It’s very very difficult. I go with them….sometimes. I still get scared. But I’ve been out quite a lot, especially compared to my man joel over here. I’ve been out maybe 30 times, he’s been out…maybe once, or not even. He’s the chef of the bunker. He makes super good Minestrone.

Me and joel like to hang out with Mavis. A robot. Yup. Not much for conversation, her batter is shot. Just like every other mavis I would imagine. When I’m not hunting we hang out with her. But sometimes I just go read. Reading and joel keep me sane. I mean sometimes joel drives me insane but I still love him. I have quite the collection of books too! I’ve got Emma by Jane Austen, a couple random ones that we found, all the hunger games and Harry Potter books, some mysteries that stopped being mysteries after a while, and then of course some smutty romance books for personal entertainment.

Joel likes to say that his thing is target practice. He has never hit the target but ya know, gotta entertain yourself. I think his thing is drawing though, he has this book that he draws in from Aimee. It’s really cool actually. He’s really good.

I sat watching Joel as he tried to hit the target, laughing a little every time he missed. It was cute how hard he tried.

“Shut up” he said shaking his laugh away

I laughed again, but then suddenly the lights started flickering. You could hear screeches and creeks echoing through the bunker. Joel turned to look at me. Worry and determination in his eyes. We both scrambled out of the room and into the kitchen where everyone was preparing.

“Hustle, hustle people we’ve gotta move”

I turned to look at Joel but then realized that he wasn’t next to me. Where did he go? Worry flooded through me. Suddenly the clanking of our weapon started behind me.

“Hey guys!” Joel said as he rammed into the railing, I shook my head. “Guys! I’ve got the weapons” he smiled at me

A few people walked over to him taking them out of his hands

“Stay” said Tim

“W-what?” Joel asked looking around in confusion

Everyone was talking and barking orders “grab what you need and let’s go! Y/N you coming?”

My eyes shot open “yes! Yup!” I jumped up and grabbed the bow and arrow from Joel.

“W-what's happening?” He asked innocently “what’s going on?”

“There’s a breach” said Tim

“What do you mean? Like inside the bunker breach?!” He asked

“Yes joel! Now come on!” I told him, patting him on the pack as I followed the others

He followed me and watched the plan get arranged

“Anna, Y/N and I will engage. Anderson and Tom plank him”

“Plank him, ya ok where do you guys need me? You want me to uh come through the rear or..?” Joel asked eagerly

“I don’t think your going to pass this joel” I told him

“Pass what? You guys need help, let me help” said clutching his crossbow

“You gonna make me say it?” said Sam

“Say what?!” God he was so adorably clueless

“You can’t handle it joel, your shook” said Sam, we all began getting into positions

“Ya ok, yes so you guys don’t get scared..ever?” He asked still getting ready to fight

“We get scared, we all get scared joel, but you get really scared” said Sam

“They are trying to make you feel bad joel” I said sweetly, trying to calm him down

“We love you joel”

“But your a liability”

“Ok why did that speech feel so rehearsed? And what about Y/N? She’s like…ya know?” He said bobbing his head

“Joel-“ suddenly the bunker shook and the lights flicked again

“Ok 30 meters out! Let’s move!” And we were off

Leaving joel and some others behind. You could hear the growling of whatever we were up against

I followed the others and listened carefully. I was freaking shaking. Don’t ask how I got sucked into becoming one the the hunters. Kinda just happened and I was just-

“OH SHIT!” I heard someone yell, it was too dark to see. Someone was gone, that thing took them. I couldn’t even see it. Oh fuck my life. Everyone began scattering, running away from the monster. I stopped running to take a breath, when I realized I was alone. Nicely done Y/N. The lights kept flickering. I heard something blow up in the distance.

“Conned? Conner?” I heard a whisper, one I knew all too well. Shit, joel. I ran toward the sound, and had no idea I was also running toward certain death. I stopped running. There it was, that thing. I’d never seen this before. I didn’t recognize it. I stayed silent, not moving at all. It slowly crawled over a shower curtain. Oh fuck. He was going toward joel! I quickly grabbed my bow and arrow and shot it. Right though the face. Next to its….eye I guess you could call it. Joel stood there, frozen.

I slowly walked over to him “Joel, hey are you ok?” I asked as I slipped my hand into his. He was trembling. Tears ran down his cheeks. He has a bad freezing problem, so I've been helping him work on it.

About an hour later I sat with Joel, still holding his hand as he stared out into space. We could hear everyone talking. How could this have happened?

“It ripped through steal”

“Anderson and I resealed the Breach point, nothings getting in that way again”

“But why did it happen?”

I tried to toon it out, and I hoped Joel did too.

“Joel, do you wanna talk about it?” I asked squeezing his hand, he looked so sad, which just crushed me

He shook his head

“Ok….” I nodded, I leaned into hug him but was interrupted by his voice

“How far away is Aimee's colony?” He asked

I pulled back, looking at him confused. The talking stopped and everyone look at him

“What?” Tim asked

“Aimee’s colony, how far away is it?” He repeated

“About 85 miles” he said as he furrowed his brows

“How long will it take to get there?”

“What do you mean joel?” I asked leaning closer to him

“Just humor me, how long?” He insisted

“7 days” said Tim

“Someone who’s armed and trained would hardly last 50miles, but you…joel” Ava said, I felt bad for him, he really didn’t deserve any of this

“Alright” Tim continued “now I need volunteers”

“I’m gonna go” joel said

No one said anything, they just stared

“It’s an impossible journey joel” said Tim, crossing his arms

Joel stood up, moving around my chair. “No im serious…I love you guys but there’s only one person in this world who ever truly made me happy and she’s only 85 miles away” he said strongly “I’m gonna go see her” I could see his mind was made up

God he was such a romantic, how could you not love this guy? Sure it hurts when your best friend tells you that you didn’t make him truly happy. Especially when you maybe sorta kinda have a crush on him.

He let out a breath “woah, that felt awesome” he said as he walked off to start packing

I stood there for a second processing and thinking, but then suddenly my mouth took over and well….

“I’m coming with you!” I said, he froze “I mean you can’t leave me here with these middle aged people, and your my best friend so” I shrugged

“I’ll come back for you I promise” he walked over to me “I can’t let you put yourself in even more danger” he said grabbing my arms

“I can’t let you put yourself in danger knowing that I could have helped protect you” I said, he stared blankly at me

I smiled “o-ohK…then I guess…” he trailed off

“Cool I’ll go pack” I skipped past him. Was I scared? Hell yes. But like I said, I needed to help joel and protect him in every way I can. And sure I wasn’t so happy that he was returning to his long lost love but if it made him happy then I would live. And anyway, two do shorten the road.

#love and monsters #joel dawson series #joel dawson fics #joel dawson #joel dawson x reader

88 notes · View notes

iamanartichoke · 3 years ago

Note

Congrats on the 1+k followers! I've only recently found you but I enjoy your opinions and the way you write <3

I was wondering if, for the prompt fic ideas, you would be interested in writing Sylvie and Loki exchanging magic lessons in an enchantment for enchantment kind of way.

I imagine them bickering each other with "Pff... That is too easy." and "Come on, that didn't take me so long to learn...", but they would also encourage with some "I know you can do it!". (oh god, now I picture them teaming in some prank against Thor... xD)

Thank you so much, @enabi-seira. Sorry this is a few days late, but it took me awhile to get going. Also my intention was to have something kinda cute and snarky but it ... didn't really end up that way, bc of who I am as a person. I hope you enjoy, regardless.

Summary: Sylvie gives Loki a lesson in enchantment Word Count: 2340 Author's notes: More or less inspired by the blanket scene, but with less awkward and more soul-bearing, bc well, why not.

It wasn’t until she let him into her mind that Loki saw himself in Sylvie.

At first, he thought it hadn’t worked, because all he felt was nothing. There was no sound, no air. But when he opened his eyes he found himself in what, at first glance, was Idunn’s orchard on Asgard. He stood at the center of the orchard, underneath the shade of one of the largest trees. In the distance, he could clearly see the golden spires of Valaskjalf and, looking up, Loki felt a twist of homesickness so strong it nearly knocked him off of his feet.

It took him a moment to get ahold of himself and, when he did and began to take a closer look, he realized that he wasn’t on Asgard at all. The orchard did not have enough trees and no golden apples swung from their branches. Valaskjalf’s spires did not glint in the sun; the gold was instead dull and flat. Everything, in fact, was much too dull and flat.

A chill broke out across Loki’s skin because while he was not on Asgard, he did know this place. He’d built it himself, had begun planting the trees and laying the foundations of deadened grass and dirt when he was still just a child. It was his in-between space, the pocket between dimensions into which he retreated when everything else was simply too much.

“How do you know this place?” he asked. His voice, rough with confusion, seemed far too loud with nothing to anchor it. “It’s mine.”

“It’s ours,” Sylvie corrected. Her voice came from somewhere to his left; Loki turned and saw her approaching, dressed not in the black and green attire he’d grown so familiar with but in a deep purple gown traditional of Asgardian formalwear. Her hair was longer, the top done up somewhat elaborately in several slim braids.

“I thought your enchantment would bring me to a memory,” he said.

“What makes you think this isn’t a memory?”

Loki opened his mouth and then closed it again, choosing instead to merely gesture at the void surrounding them. “Because this place isn’t real. I created it. As an -”

“An escape,” she finished for him. She’d been looking out over the orchard but now she turned her gaze on him, something sad and knowing behind her green eyes. She nodded. “So did I. But that doesn’t mean it isn’t real. It’s as real as you and I are, and I remember it.”

Goosebumps tickled his arms and the back of his neck. Loki looked away, turning in a half circle as he took in the sight of what he used to simply call the gray place, a place he’d thought had been lost; he’d not thought of it in years, could no longer remember quite where it was. The grey place had all but collapsed into the recesses of his mind, along with countless other memories he’d collected and subsequently lost along the way.

Loki looked up at the tree that still shaded them from the sun, although the sun itself was not very bright, nor warm. Everything was so still. Absently, Loki reached out and swiped his fingers along one of the lower branches. “No apples,” he said.

“Nothing grows here.”

“The space grows,” he countered. He plucked a few leaves from the branch and curled his fingers around them. “Grew. Each time I came here, it seemed bigger. It stopped being Asgard and grew into somewhere else.”

“It didn’t really, though, did it,” she said. She walked around him, circling the tree trunk. “Get bigger. It was only that we got lonelier.”

Loki looked at her sharply, but found he couldn’t refute her words. “You were much lonelier than I,” he said instead.

She shot him one of her Sylvie looks, her expression both indignant at what she perceived as a slight, and annoyed at his being right. She disliked when he figured things out about her, but he’d seen that expression more and more as the days passed, which meant that he was getting closer to her core.

Either that, or he was just annoying her more frequently.

“What makes you think so?” she challenged.

He gestured vaguely at the space around them. “Yours is farther along than mine was.” Now that he was getting used to this - both being inside of her head, and grounded firmly in the gray place - he could see the differences. There were more pathways in the orchard, fuller tree branches. In the distance, past the palace, he could make out the beginnings of a rainbow bridge. All things Loki had thought of bringing to the gray place, but adolescence grew into adulthood and Loki created new hiding places, buried deeper in the spaces between worlds.

Sylvie’s gray place felt like a place that had been visited often. Perhaps she even still visited, escaping through dimensions as easily as she slipped through apocalypses.

Her features looked pinched as she dug her fingers into the trunk’s bark, pulling at a loose layer. “When did you build yours?” she asked, instead of answering directly. “Start building it, I mean.”

Loki shrugged, leaning against the trunk. “I don’t know. I was young.”

“Tell me,” she pressed.

He glanced over at her and, despite himself, smirked. “Are we exploring your mind, or mine?”

Sylvie arched an eyebrow and then her features relaxed. “Beats me,” she admitted. “Seems they’re one and the same, doesn’t it?”

Loki’s nod was slow, thoughtful. He looked up, toward the endless gray sky. “I remember having nightmares as a child,” he said, and wasn’t sure if he was answering her question, or simply speaking in order to fill the silence. Her presence seemed to have that effect on him, regardless of whether they were together in the world or together in her (their?) mind.

“It was always cold in those dreams,” he went on. “Bitter, the kind of cold that gets under your skin. It was cold and it was dark, and there were never any monsters or dragons or - not the kinds of things children tend to have nightmares about. For me, it was that there was nothing. Just myself, and the cold, and the dark, and this intimate knowing that no matter what I did or how loudly I screamed, no one would ever hear me.”

She’d circled around the trunk again as he spoke, and now she leaned against it next to him, sliding down until she was settled on the grass at the base. “I don’t think I had nightmares, not like yours,” she said, “but I always had the sense of being wrong, somehow. When my parents told me the truth about what I was, and where I’d come from, I thought it would make the wrongness stop.”

“But it didn’t,” Loki guessed as he sat down on the ground beside her.

She looked over at him, meeting his gaze directly before she shook her head. “It’s in me still. At least now I know why.”

Loki didn’t say anything. They were sitting close enough together that he’d only have to lean in a bit and their shoulders would be touching, but Loki let the observation go without acting on it. Instead, he pulled at a few blades of grass, gaze settling out toward the far end of the orchard which, were this the real Asgard, would have led directly into Frigga’s gardens.

Instead of lingering on that thought, Loki turned his attention to the enchantment itself. It was very strange, the method she’d learned. Their bodies - their real bodies - were out there in the physical world, holding hands to establish the physical connection they’d needed for the enchantment to work, but they were also in here, and he could feel the ground beneath him and the the tree bark digging into his spine and the solidity of the space she took up beside him. He would have assumed that sliding into someone else’s mind would feel like a dream or a vision - not quite real.

“That’s when I began creating this place,” he said, realizing that he’d started telling her about his nightmares for a reason. “To escape after the dreams.” He’d chosen the warmest, safest place he knew then, which was the orchard, and he’d begun creating his duplicate.

“I don’t even really know where it was,” he admitted, with a short laugh. “All I had to do was think of it and, suddenly, I’d be there.”

It had started with the nightmares, but somewhere along the way it had become much more than that. Loki could remember disappearing into the gray place after arguments, or when he was frustrated and felt lost, or even just when all of the things inside of him - the dark things he’d never been able to firmly identify - became far too much and he felt like he would explode from the sheer force of them pressing against his skin from the inside, seeking a way out.

In Sylvie’s mind, all of the details were exact and clear, just as he remembered and more. Loki felt something hollow and cold in his core as it sank in - really sank in - that he and Sylvie were variants of the same person. The same soul, with the same dark things inside. What’s me is you, and what’s you is me.

The full weight of the realization should not have made him feel so lonely, but it did. For the first time since he’d met her, looking at Sylvie felt like looking in the mirror, the way one did when he was examining himself from every angle, identifying and hating every flaw he discovered.

“I know that look,” she said, and Loki blinked. He’d been staring at her, he realized, and felt his cheeks warm. “It’s hitting you, isn’t it? How we’re the same.”

Loki nodded. “It’s this place. I was remembering why I made it, and what drove me to disappear here. It must have been the same for you.”

“Let’s see.” Sylvie drew her knees up a little, adjusting her skirts so that they wouldn’t drag against the grass. “The wrongness of existing. Falling short, no matter how hard I tried. Always found wanting, compared to my brother. And, yes, loneliness.”

“Thor,” Loki said. His voice sounded so flat, even to his own ears, that Sylvie shot him a strange glance. He tugged at a few more blades of grass, pressing his lips together. He’d never asked her about her Thor, because he didn’t want to talk about his - the one who had ceased to exist when the TVA first arrested Loki in the desert and erased his reality, along with everyone he’d ever known and loved. Versions of them existed, of course - the ones who walked the sacred timeline, exactly where they were supposed to be, but those versions belonged to another Loki - a far away Loki.

He had his reasons for not bringing up Thor, but he didn’t know why Sylvie, likewise, had kept her Thor to herself. “Tell me about him,” he heard himself say, dropping the blades of grass from his hand. “Your Thor.”

“I don’t remember much of him, either,” Sylvie admitted. “More blips, like my parents. He’s more of a feeling than anything else - a presence. He took care of me; he pushed me to be better. I could never measure up to him, but I remember he wasn’t the one who was comparing. He loved me.”

“Yes.” Loki was hardly aware of speaking until he heard his own voice. “Mine, too.”

They exchanged a long look, and then Sylvie cleared her throat and turned her attention to the grass. “Could do with a bit more green,” she remarked. “It’s awfully dull, isn’t it?”

“I could -”

But she was already pressing her fingers into the dirt and, as Loki watched, the blades began to darken and bloom as lush grass sprouted outward, rolling from the palm of Sylvie’s hand to stretch in every direction until all of the dead grass had been made new again. Only then did Sylvie pull her hand back.

“Not bad, right?”

“Not bad,” he agreed. “Still feels very plain, though. I’d have added a little shading, a little variety. Perhaps a few more shrubs or rose bushes.”

“I’m not stopping you.”

The corners of Loki’s mouth tilted upward. He extended a closed fist, focusing, and then spread open his hand to reveal a tangled ball of colorful magic, blues and greens and yellows and reds all flickering and shimmering. Wordlessly, Loki tossed the ball; it landed several feet away and dissolved into tiny, colorful flowers, which spread swiftly over the grass.

Loki glanced at Sylvie, quickly enough that he caught the awe on her features before she realized he was looking; immediately, boredom swept over her face. She lifted one shoulder, carelessly. “Where are the rose bushes?”

“You are impossible,” Loki informed her.

“So you keep telling me. Come on.” She pushed herself to her feet and extended a hand, which Loki took without pause. “Lesson’s over for today.”

A split-second later, the gray place was gone entirely; once again, there was air to breathe and tiny sounds in the distance. Loki’s head throbbed; he opened his eyes and let go of Sylvie’s hand in order to press his against his temples. “Ow.”

“Yeah, return trip’s a little rough until you get used to it.” Slyvie - once again looking like Sylvie, draped in green and black - leaned back, watching with some amusement while Loki squeezed his eyes shut, rubbed his temples, and tried not to throw up. “Maybe next time we’ll journey into your mind. Probably’ll pack less of a punch for you.”

“I can handle pain,” Loki countered, finally letting go of his head. “My mind is off-limits. We’ve been over this.”

“For now,” Sylvie agreed.

“For always.” Loki arched his eyebrow at her. “Now. What lesson shall we tackle next?”

#various disclaimers: i'm basing my interpretation on how enchantment works on sylvie and c-20's scene #where there were clearly existing in *a place* together from c-20's memories #no idea if i've gotten the whole of it right or not but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯#also be gentle i'm rusty re: writing quality #charlotte writes #follower celebration prompt series #loki+sylvie(bffs)#loki pokey artichokey #loki fic #loki series spoilers #loki spoilers #loki tv series spoilers

21 notes · View notes

izcana · 4 years ago

Text

The Secrets of Wooing Thomas, by Minho No-Surname

In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the quoteonlyprompts collection.

Prompt(s): "I don't need a wand/weapon to knock you into next week."

This fic was also inspired by this imagine by imagine-thominho. "Imagine Minho bringing flowers to Thomas every day, because they never had flowers in the Glade."

***

It was a shriek that awoke Minho from his afternoon nap.

A shriek very alike to the ones of fear he had heard when they were back in the Scorch that had him awake instantly. He looked around, thrashing wildly, trying to identify the threat. He flailed for a bit only to notice Thomas with his brown eyes wide open, huddled into a ball in the corner. Of course, the girly shriek had belonged to Thomas.

Minho stopped finding it funny after he looked at the condition of his friend. His shallow breaths were very fast and his glassy eyes were wide open but unseeing, tears falling rapidly down his cheeks. Minho was by his side in a second. "Thomas? You okay, Shank?"

"Griever!" Thomas shrieked, pointing to the floor. Minho looked. There, on the floor, was a harmless spider. Not in Thomas' eyes, though. Because in Thomas' eyes, that harmless spider was a Griever, a monster of the maze. It did somewhat resemble a Griever, with 8 legs and a shiny black body. All in all, though, Minho was certain this spider was harmless compared to what they had gone through.

Just as Minho put his arms around Thomas, Harriet burst in. "What happened? Who's–––" Her voice died away after she saw Minho in the corner, arms around Thomas protectively. "Is he okay? Panic attack?" She asked sympathetically. They all experienced them – the symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder, as the doctor had called it. In Minho's opinion, it was no way to sum up all the Gladers and Group B girls had been through.

Minho nodded silently, pointing to the spider. "Griever," he said simply, but Harriet understood, her eyes widening. She nodded.

Harriet stalked to the corner that Thomas and Minho were in, unbeknownst to Thomas, and stepped on the spider, killing it. Thomas' shaking slowly died down after seeing his "threat" had been eliminated. "Take care of him, alright?" She said, shooting him a smile and jogging out the tent.

Ever since they'd gotten to Paradise, Minho and Thomas had made friends with the Group B girls. Scratch that. Thomas had made friends with the girls and Minho was Thomas' friend, so the girls begrudgingly, he might as well admit, got to know him too.

He was certain that half of his friendships had started with Thomas. Small, adorable Thomas who could not help but be likeable. His somehow still innocent demeanour (even after the trials) attracted many people to like him, including Minho when he was in the Glade. The shank was just so curious with his wide Bambi eyes darting back and forth, chocolate brown hair, and lean frame.

Minho didn't know when he had noticed that he was somewhat attracted to Thomas, but he'd same sometime during the Scorch, perhaps when Thomas got shot. Minho's (after he saw the bullet lodged in the pale flesh) vision had turned into red. He only saw in shades of red as he pounced onto the crank, beating him all the way to death.

"Ya know, I have an extreme fear of spiders, too," Minho started talking lowly so he didn't startle Thomas.

"Arachnophobia," A weak, quiet voice mumbled into his chest. The warm breath fanning his t-shirt and vibrating against the muscles had him sighing internally. Thomas was okay. He'd be fine. Minho would help him.

"What?" Minho asked, cocking his head sideways.

Thomas raised his head from Minho's chest. He had bed-hair, even though he didn't sleep, and it was adorable. His eyes were puffy and red-rimmed, and the moles on his cheeks were stained with tear tracks. Nonetheless, he smiled, and it looked like a real smile. Minho was proud to say that he was one of the few people in Paradise that had seen Thomas' genuine smile. He huffed. "It's called 'arachnophobia'. An extreme fear of spiders."

Minho snorted. "Know-it-all."

Thomas' next smirk was forthcoming. "Watch it, I don't need a weapon to knock you into next week. Besides, I thought we were beyond the name-calling?"

Minho ticked off his fingers. "Shank, shuck-face, piece-of-klunk, Greenie, and let's not forget Subject A2, to be killed by Group B." Minho knew making jokes about WICKED was okay with Thomas. The first time after he had done it, he had apologised over and over again. Thomas had cut him off, telling him that making jokes about it helped him move on.

Thomas stuck his tongue out. "I'm pretty sure the girls don't want to kill me now, especially Sonya." Sonya loved Thomas the most. Not that way, of course, Minho would have killed her if she dared. Thomas wasn't his, but he was his best friend and he was not going to let another girl steal him from Minho's grasp.

Minho glared playfully. "Such a shame that is, too." He was sure Thomas was going to reply with a lame comeback and he was ready for it.

But no. He was not ready for the look that followed. Thomas gasped, widening his eyes and pouting. His big brown eyes were wide and watery and the brown and (very) long eyelashes were not helping, neither were the small, plump rosy-strawberry pink lips that jutted out slightly. Thomas' master pout. Oh, no.

Minho had been first subjected to this pout in the first week of paradise. Thomas had wanted Minho's last orange and Minho refused to give it to him. The next second, Thomas had pulled his look and Minho had discovered that his hand was obediently handing the precious orange to Thomas, who stopped his pout immediately and ate the orange.

Minho had stared, dumbfounded, at the cute boy who had juice smeared all over his face. Minho was weak for Thomas, apparently. He questioned why Thomas didn't just use that look on Alby when he wanted to become a runner. It couldn't just be Minho who succumbed to Thomas' spell...or was it?

After a month of practice, Thomas' puppy look was polished and perfected and Minho hated it but loved it, too. He was sure he had used all the acronyms of "adorable" he knew to describe Thomas, which honestly, wasn't many. Only adorable, loveable, and cute. He was sure that Thomas knew more (the shucking genius, how??) but he was definitely not going to ask Thomas to find words to describe himself, not that he would know of...

Minho relented, making a face, but relenting all the same. "I hate you, Thomas," he muttered.

Thomas' reply was "You love me, Babe." What. Oh, oh. Little did Thomas know that it was true, and not in the way he thought it was. Because Thomas was the most oblivious person there ever was. Apparently, Minho's love declaration hadn't been enough. Friends always said 'I love you' in sappy tones? Somehow, in Thomas' world, they did. Minho wondered what world Thomas lived in.

Minho was pretty sure he'd dislocate his jaw if he didn't close his mouth now. So, forcing his jaw closed before Thomas noticed his gaping mouth, he swallowed drily. Thomas had no idea what he did to Minho. That or he was a prostitute in his past life. It was highly possible, judging by his looks. Have you seen the kid? He's always licking his lips and arrrrghhhhh!

Minho wanted to strangle Thomas and kiss him silly at the same time.

***

Minho was taking a walk along the meadow for his break day. It was Thomas' break, too, but he was with Brenda. Minho couldn't say he wasn't jealous.

He was actually on a pity walk because why should Thomas have him? Maybe because he was always there for Thomas? Where was Brenda in the Glade?

He was currently wandering around, humming as he plucked flowers. The meadow had plenty of flowers. The Glade didn't have any. Minho didn't know when he had became such a sap, but he was. Currently picking flowers (totally not for Thomas).

"Hey, Minho, come here!" Sonya called, beckoning him to where she and Harriet were resting on the rocky terrain.

Minho, against his smarter mind, walked over to where Sonya sat. "What's up?"

"You like Thomas, don't you?" Harriet said bluntly. Though it was phrased as a question, it was obviously a flat statement. Harriet said it like it was a proven fact, which it was.

"I don't!" Minho groaned. "I don't like Thomas! Why should I like him? He's brave and amazing and I ––––"

"Calm down, Prince Charming," Sonya drawled, making a pacifying gesture with her palms. "You're incriminating yourself and it's pitiful." She and Harriet exchanged looks, both shaking their heads. "Just confess! Harriet confessed to me and we're together, now."

"What am I supposed to say? Thomas, I love you? Thomas, would you be my boyfriend? Thomas, would you marry me?" Minho said sarcastically, holding out the makeshift bouquet of flowers.

"I would say yes," a shy voice behind Minho peeped. Minho's heart sunk and started beating like crazy inside his stomach.

This could not be happening! Thomas was ––– wait, what? "What did you say?" Minho demanded, his eyes widening as he flipped around to face Thomas.

Thomas shrunk down from his fierce glare, his shoulders curling forward and his head bowed down, casting his Bambi eyes to the grass. "I said...I-I s-said 'I would say y-yes'," Thomas stammered, his face going red. "Or was it a joke?"

Minho sighed. Oblivious-Mode, as usual. "Did it sound like a joke?" He asked, tilting Thomas' head up so he could gaze into the sparkling orbs.

"Well, yeah, why would someone like you want to be with someone like me? Everyone in Paradise –––"

Being bad with words, Minho wrapped his arm around Thomas' waist (the other one still clutching onto the flowers) and dipped him backwards, quickly slamming his lips bruisingly onto Thomas'. Thomas made a stifled moan behind them but then relaxed into the kiss, returning it feverishly. The two lips were a bit awkward with each other, but that was to be expected – after all, neither of them had been kissed many times.

The kiss continued until both of the boys broke apart simultaneously, panting for air. Minho, after getting a good few breaths in, took a look at Thomas. He was pleased with what he saw. The boy's pupils were blown wide and there was only a tinge of the honey amber irises. He was still chasing after Minho's lips, looking very dazed. He was also breathing very heavily through his kiss swollen red lips.

Minho grinned and a wave of possessiveness rushed over him. Thomas is mine, he thought.

"M-Minho?" Thomas stammered. "What...what are we?"

Minho smirked, his old confidence coming back again. "The offer of dating still stands, you know..." he said teasingly, raising the bundle of flowers.

Thomas grinned, his usual grin back. "The answer also stands. Yes, a million times over," Thomas almost squealed, gingerly taking the flowers as if he didn't believe they existed.

They were staring into each other's brown eyes intently before Harriet interrupted abruptly. "Excuse me, but there are children here and that kiss was definitely not appropriate for their age..."

Thomas and Minho shared looks in sync and started to kiss again in the same way as last time, with Minho dipping Thomas at the waist, the flowers long forgotten. No worries, Minho could get more for his boyfriend later.

***

This one's a bit longer than my usual fics, but I hope you enjoyed it! I apologise for the fact that this amazing prompt was not in the spotlight! Thank you, Anonymous for the prompt and thank you, imagine-thominho for the head canon.

#thominho #prompt #tmr #the maze runner #maze runner #oblivious thomas #pining minho #minho #thomas #harriet #sonya #mentioned sonriet #innocent thomas #cute thomas #adorable thomas #possessive minho

6 notes · View notes

fangirlshrewt97 · 4 years ago

Text

Doctor Who (2005) Fic - The Goldilocks Vacation Conundrum

Title: The Goldilocks Vacation Conundrum

Author(s): Fangirlshrewt97

Fandom: Doctor Who (2005)

Pairing: None

Characters: Thirteenth Doctor, Yaz Khan, Ryan, Graham

Rating: General

Warnings: None

Banned Together Bingo Prompt: Alien Weatherman

Additional Tags: Crack-ish, Prompt: Alien Weatherman, Banned Together Bingo 2020, Humor, The Doctor does not know how to pick human appropriate vacation spots, Poor Graham keeps falling because of the Doctor’s poor TARDIS parking skills, Post Season 10

Summary: Essentially, a semi-crack-ish fic where the Doctor tries to suggest vacation spots to her companions, and misses the mark. Until she gets it right.

After all, third time is the charm.

Excerpt:

The Doctor swiped through a few more potential vacation spots, this time, Ryan joining them. There were several that caught the eyes of the crew, but each time that Graham asked for the dangers, there was always one.

Tentacle monsters, giant crabs, Multiple-headed monsters, noxious gas, acid-spitting monsters, poisonous fruits, monsters with giant horns, unfriendly natives, evil tyrannical rulers that were wary of tourists. What was with all the monsters, honestly?

By the end, Ryan and Yaz had joined back on the steps with the Doctor standing in front of them.

Link to A03: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25314952

///

The TARDIS fam were sitting on the steps next to the central console waiting for the Doctor to return. She had said she would only be a moment and for them to stay.

“I just need to grab this one thing from a friend, I’ll be back before you know it. No need for you to follow me!” she had said, bouncing around the console as the TARDIS landed on another planet, nearly sending Graham to the floor from the abrupt stop.

“But doc-” Graham had started to protest only for her to already be halfway out the door, coat in one hand, and an extremely long rainbow scarf in the other.

“Five minutes at most. Just wait here!” was all the humans heard before the door swung shut.

Graham sighed. “Well that is not going to happen.”

“Who wants to bet she will get stuck on an adventure?” Ryan had asked, mischievous glint in his eyes.

Yaz barked a laugh. “What kind of a naive idiot do you take me for Ryan? The bet should be the kind of adventure she goes on. My guess is tentacle monster.”

“You’re on, I think it is alien species that wants to conquer the planet.”

“Ohhhh, good one, damn I want to change my bet.”

“No way too late!”

“Graham, what about you?”

“I don’t know about the doctor, but personally, I am going for an adventure to the kitchen. I want tea.” Graham had said, waiving off the groans from the other two. He did press the pedal to get a creamy custard biscuit as he walked by though.

That had been almost four hours ago. In the meantime, Graham had had his tea and biscuits, finished his book, taken a small nap, and wound up back in the console room, playing poker with Yaz and Ryan. The younger two members of the ship had tried to venture out of the ship, only to find they were parked at the top of a very steep cliff with no houses or identifiable signs of civilization in sight. And rather than risking getting lost, had ventured back into the ship.

Graham was chuckling as he won the hand for the fifth time in the row, collecting the candy they were using as betting markers when the Doctor burst into the room, tracking mud throughout the entrance as loud bird screeching followed her. She quickly barricaded the door with the bar she kept next to the door and ventured inside.

“Well fam, sorry for the delay, but I see you kept yourselves entertained.”

“Say doc, have you ever actually run an errand where things didn’t go tits up?” Graham asked as he opened one of the mints from his winnings. From the corner of his eye, he saw Yaz passing some money to Ryan.

“I resent the implications Graham, I will have you know I have had plenty of successful errands where nothing went wrong.”

At the silence from the three humans, she looked up from she was fiddling with the console controls again. “I have!”

Graham scoffed as Yaz made an empathetic noise and Ryan rolled his eyes fondly.

“Sure you have Doctor.” Ryan said as he stood up.

The Doctor’s comeback was interrupted by a piercing cry and the distinct sound of claws (or talons) against wood.

“Whoopsie, looks like we have overstayed our welcome!” The Doctor said before pulling down the lever. The trio of humans just managed to brace themselves before the ship took off, shaking like a teacup during an earthquake.

After a couple more minutes, the wheezing sound faded as the ship managed to land somewhere.

“Hey Doctor, where are we?” Yaz as as she peered into one of the monitors on the console. It was still displaying that odd (but beautiful) circular writing the Doctor had called Gallifreyan, but she could also make out a landscape. It was a flat field, with what looked like medium height grasses (green), under a clear sky (purple, which weird but cool), and a scattering of trees that almost resembled pine trees but had normal leaves.

“Ah, thanks for asking Yaz! Welcome to Brosha, in the Aresa galaxy. I figured I owed you guys a proper vacation, and this place has the best food this side of the Andromeda galaxy made from corn. Well, it is actually eir but tastes very similar to Earth’s corn. Looks similar too!”

The three humans were not looking at her as impressed as she was hoping. Her smiled dimmed a bit. “No?”

Ryan answered. “Doctor, that is really nice of you, but none of us are really big fans of corn. Also you are hiding something from us.”

“No I am not.”

Yaz chuckled. “Yes you are. You have a tell.”

“I do not!”

“You do too!”

“I do not!”

“You do too!”

“I-”

Graham cut off the childish squabbling. Honestly one was an officer of the law, and the other was a two thousand year old alien. It was undignified. “Alright enough. Doc, this sounds nice, but what’s the catch?”

“There are, rarely, every once in a while, stampedes of these huge moose like things. But honestly the chances of that happening while we are there are-”

“Sky high. Doc, we tend to always be around for the once in a blue moon situations. How about elsewhere?” Yaz said gently.

The Doctor pouted, but turned and fiddled with her monitor before brightening.

“Oh, I got one. What about Brakem in the Uccas galaxy? Hot springs filled with healing crystals, soaps and scents from around the universe. Never really rains, two suns, three moons. Gorgeous orange skies.”

“And?” Ryan asked, a wicked smirk on his face.

“Doc, this would be easier if you just mentioned the catch too.” Graham added.

“Average temperatures outside of the resorts are about 40℃.”

No way in hell. Mainly cause it sounded to be about the same temperature. “Next option Doc.”

The Doctor whined but looked at her monitor again. Graham went to sit on the stairs, he had a feeling they’d be there for a while.

“Ok, fine. How about, um, no not that one, ooh that would be, no nevermind, oh! No.” The Doctor muttered as she swiped at her monitor. Yaz went to stand beside her, watching her flick past some amazing landscapes. One in particular caught her eye, and she must have a sound because the Doctor looked at her. “Yaz?”

“What’s that?”

“This one? This is Chebara.” On the screen was a massive lake, extending seemingly to the horizon. The sky was so purple, but so clear she could almost make out stars and other planets in the photo. To one side of the lake she could see a massive hill rising from the ground, clouds covering it from about midway. In the middle of the lake, giant trees that seemed to be floating?

“Are those trees floating?”

“Oh yes, they are Ubal trees, their fruits produce dyes that don’t fade even after a thousand years. Very valuable.” The Doctor explained, glee filling her eyes again.

“Is it safe?” Graham asked. He loved the Doctor, but safety somehow never made it into the woman’s priority list.

“Graham, where is the fun in that?” The Doctor asked, only to be met with a raised eyebrow that would not be swayed. She sighed. “There is a small chance we may encounter the giant alligator-hippos that inhabit the lake.”

“No.”

“But Yaz wants to go!” the Doctor protested.

“Actually Doctor, I think just the photos might be enough. We have had so many adventures, and I would really like a vacation before we head back to the fray.” Yaz said, apologetic.

The Doctor’s shoulders slumped. “Back to the drawing board then.”

By the end, Ryan and Yaz had joined back on the steps with the Doctor standing in front of them.

“Guys come on, I promise, the vacation will be fine, I’m sure the bad things won’t happen, they are all statistically very unlikely.”

Graham stood up and walked to the Doctor, laying a sympathetic hand on her forearm. “Doctor, I am sure you have noticed, but let me point it out again. We are kind of one-in-a-million central here. All I want is someplace to put my feet up, a nice cuppa, maybe a chance to tan.” Graham said. Beside him, Yaz and Ryan nodded in agreement.

The Doctor stood in front of the three humans, arms crossed, and cheeks puffed out like a squirrel. Yaz internally squealed at how adorable this couple thousand year old alien could be.

The Doctor tapped out a distracted pattern on her forearm before brightening. “I know the perfect place!” she said.

And then, without waiting for the companion’s response she went back to the console and pressed a few buttons before pulling the lever.

The TARDIS’s wheezing sound was heard before the ship rattled and transported. Graham, who had been standing on the stairs still fell hard on his butt. Ryan and Yaz managed to stumble forward and brace themselves on the console.

“Ow Doc, a couple more rough landings, and you are going to owe me a new hip!” Graham complained as he rubbed the small of his back. Ryan came to his side, helping his sit up against one of the columns around the console.

“Sorry about that Graham! I just thought of the perfect place for a lovely holiday, and wanted to get us there ASAP!”

Ryan and Yaz exchanged glances before looking at her hesitantly. “So…”

“Where are we?”

If possible, the Doctor’s grin got even wider, her eyes alight with delight. “My lovely fam, welcome to Earth, third planet in the solar system, in the outskirts of the Milky Way galaxy. We are in present day Sheffield, the temperature is a pleasant 23℃, there is a humidity of 65%, and chance of rain is 7%!” The Doctor said as she clapped her hands once in delight. Ryan shook his head at the antics of the Time Lord and began to chuckle.Yaz started to giggle before the Doctor waggled her eyebrows at her, at which point she burst out laughing, using the console edge to keep from falling over. Even Graham had a grin on his face as he continued to rub his back. He used the column to brace himself and got up.

“How long will we be staying then doc?”

The Doctor swayed back and forth on her toes and heels. “Up to you guys. How long do you want to stay?”

“Wait, you are staying too right?” Yaz said, squinting at the Time Lord.

The Doctor brought up her hands in surrender. “I’ve got a whole universe Yaz!”

“And I’ve got a spare room with your name on it. Come on, just stay. I know we don’t have crystal pools or floating trees, but Charlie’s pub down the block serves some of the best falafels in the country.”

The Doctor bit her lip, but looking at the hopeful faces of her companions, she gave a single nod.

“Alright, why not.”

She turned and pressed a couple buttons, dimming the lights of the main area of the TARDIS. “There, she is in hibernation. Let’s go enjoy Sheffield.”

With a cheer from the humans, the Doctor let herself be led outside by her fam. Yaz dragging her by the wrist as Ryan lightly pushed her from the back, with Graham closing the ship doors behind himself.

Sometimes, the best vacation from a life traveling was a little bit of home.

#doctor who #my fic #my writing #thirteenth doctor #yasmin khan #graham o'brien #ryan sinclair #doctor who fanfic #thirteenth doctor fanfic #bannedtogetherbingo2020 #bannedtogether2020 #prompt: alien weatherman #yasmin khan fanfic #graham o'brien fanfic #ryan sinclair fanfic #let me know what you think!

3 notes · View notes

igotlockedintothisfandom · 5 years ago

Text

Sleepless In Matheson

Requested by @kolbs92-blog

Prompt: Bode can’t sleep at night anymore due to having nightmares of Dodge. He tries to hide it but it becomes pretty obvious to Tyler and Kinsey and they help him out.

Notes: This is my first ask ever!!! I love you a lot. :) Also, all of my Tumblr fics for this fandom will be cross-posted onto my Ao3 as a collection. Sorry if this is bad... it’s my first fic in the Locke and Key fandom :)

My Ao3 username: RandomNerd3

Defeating Dodge did not come without its consequences.

Bode ended up taking down the mirror from his door. When his mom asked what was wrong with it he simply said he didn’t like it anymore. He missed the concerned glances Kinsey and Tyler exchanged with each other.

A week after everything had happened Bode found himself haunted by nightmares. Sometimes he gives Dodge all the keys willingly. Sometimes it’s revealed the person they shoved through the Door wasn’t Dodge, but Ellie, his best friend’s mother. Sometimes Kinsey drowns in those caves with the rest of her friends.

Tyler was sucked into the Omega Door with their enemy, his hand just out of Kinsey’s reach...

Waking in a cold sweat Bode threw his covers off and slid on his sneakers. Tyler, the youngest Locke thought as he silently crept down the hallway armed with his trusty light stick.

When he passed the balcony Bode froze, remembering the shape of Dodge’s broken body lying on the floor beneath him. “Tyler!” Bode hissed, the door squeaked as he turned the doorknob, pushing it open. Bypassing the light switch Bode padded next to his brother’s bed. It wasn’t until he saw the soft rise and fall of Tyler’s chest when he let himself relax again. He poked Tyler, who in response drooled into his pillow. Bode winced then, avoiding the drool puddle, climbed in next to Tyler. Once he was snuggled against Tyler’s chest and able to hear his brother’s heartbeat, Bode did his best to relax as much as he could. Eventually Bode’s eyes fluttered shut as he dreamed of his father telling him the story of the sea monster.

The next morning he woke to the sound of Tyler tripping over something. Bode opened his eyes in time to see his brother fall flat on his face. “Damn it!” Tyler exclaimed scampering to his feet. “Bode!” He yelled out his door, Bode winced then said,

“Tyler you don’t have to scream.” Tyler turned back around to find Bode wrapped up in his bedding. “I didn’t mean for you to trip on the light stick... sorry...” Bode said looking down guiltily. Tyler sighed then handed the stick back to him,

“I’m not angry okay Bode?” Tyler seemed to take in the situation, “did you have a nightmare last night?” He asked, concern laced in his eyes. Bode shook his head quickly, not wanting to burden Tyler with his trauma.

“No nightmare. I must’ve...” He trailed off thinking of a lie, “I must’ve sleep walked into your room!” Bode said running past Tyler to avoid any further questions. “Sorry!” He yelled as he raced down the hallway to the safety of his bedroom. Locking the door behind him, Bode took a deep breath then began to get ready for the day. Despite the demon being stuck in the Omega Door, Dodge’s haunting melody never left his mind. Bode, where’s the Anywhere Key? Reflections of her would ask as he passed by mirrors in the house. Bode ignored Dodge’s voice the best he could, hood pulled up and tied tightly over his ears.

As the day continued Bode didn’t notice his siblings whispering conspiratorially together in the drawing room.

Once dinner was laid out Bode suddenly felt exhausted from a long day of hunting for remaining shadow monsters. Despite everything being over, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right. Bode stayed silent as his family filled the meal with talk about how their days from school went. He avoided or redirected any questions aimed at him, daydreaming of that night. “May I be excused?” Bode said the second he swallowed the last of his broccoli. His mom glanced at Tyler and Kinsey, who both shrugged unhelpfully. Luckily he got permission to go to bed early, so Bode cleared his plate and went straight to his room.

“I’m sorry mam,” the police officer said at Key House’s front door. “We believe Kinsey Locke to be among those who drowned in the caves.” Bode ran out from his hiding place shouting blasphemy at the officer. Tyler held him back, eyes squeezed shut in order to prevent tears from falling.

This time when he woke up a light shone from under his covers. Bode sighed as he took out his light stick, it’s a wonder he hasn’t needed to replace the batteries yet. Pulling on socks Bode opened his door then once again made his way to one of his sibling’s rooms. This time he opened Kinsey’s door.

When he saw her awake and on her phone, Bode sighed thankfully. He tried to shut the door without being noticed. Unfortunately his sister spoke up, “if you’re going to come in you might as well stay the night.” Kinsey said with a smile, she patted the empty spot on her bed. Bode turned off his stick and leaned it against the wall, close to where the headboard was so he could grab it easier. Once he was safe within Kinsey’s mountain of quilts his eyelids felt heavy. “What’s gotten into you Bode?” She asked running a hand lightly through his hair. Bode hummed, but didn’t respond. Instead wrapping his arms tighter around his sister’s leaving, breathing body.

He missed the text Kinsey sent Tyler telling him they needed to talk.

When he woke up Bode’s face was buried in Kinsey’s pink hair. “Ugh,” Bode said peeling strands of hair off his face. “Kinsey?” He asked, his sister groaned then blinked awake.

“What is it?” She asked peeling her eyes open. Bode hesitated, maybe he should tell his siblings about his nightmares. They would be the only ones who would understand…

“Nothing,” he lied through his teeth, “thanks for letting me sleep here last night.” Bode said climbing out of bed, light stick in tow.

The third night of his nightmares was the worst.

Dodge kept her promise and destroyed his family. Not by killing them, but by tearing them apart from the inside out. Tyler and Kinsey were always fighting, his mom turned to the bottle again, and his uncle Rufus would refuse to step a foot in Key House. Bode’s dad was still dead, that was the only constant throughout the hell of his nightmarish thoughts. “Bode wake up!” A voice called out, but wasn’t he already awake? Bode thought to himself as he watched Kinsey’s body lowering into the ground next to the other Lockes who died on the property.

“Bode!”

His eyes snapped open to Tyler and Kinsey shaking him awake. Bode blindly reached around his bedroom until he found his light stick then he turned it on, the light warming his room. “Bode, you’re not okay are you?” Tyler asked as Kinsey crawled dutifully into bed next to him. Bode sighed then shook his head, turning to listen to his sister’s heartbeat. “It’s okay to not be okay right now Bode.” Tyler said wrapping his arms around them both, “Dodge isn’t coming back anytime soon. We have all the keys locked in the music box, and the crown is hidden well enough no one will find it.” He comforted as Kinsey’s eyes fluttered close. Bode turned around to face his brother,

“Do you really think Dodge is gone?” He asked Tyler, who nodded.

“Maybe not forever, but for right now? Yes Bode, she’s gone. We’re alive, and we’re all safe.” Bode sighed, then curled into a tighter ball against his big brother’s chest.

Perhaps his nightmares won’t haunt him anymore.

15 notes · View notes

innaminitus · 6 years ago

Text

You’re my drug

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Warning: language, smut

Word count: 1676

Request: can i request a mobboss!bucky x reader oneshot where they are the 2 most feared mob bosses of brooklyn, and they finally meet, but they are best friends so they kept their identity from each other so when they meet, they are slightly surprised. a smutty fic. :) from @sebbybarrnes

A/N: That was an old request, but I couldn’t stop thinking about it and decided to finally write it. Tumblr is like, hating me again??? I can’t add tags to yet another bucky imagine bc it’s not showing my work on search results!!! big hate!!

Please reblog if you can, help me spread my work since this wonderful website isn’t allowing me to add more than one tag, thank you and big love to all of you <3

Y/N POV

You walked to your room, searching everywhere for that icy-blue faux fur you just had to wear that night. You were supposed to be at the venue you owned, but you couldn’t come without looking properly and even though your boyfriend hated that fur, it was the best one to hide a gun.

“Buckyyyy!” You squirmed, diving through a pile of clothes on the armchair. “Have you seen my blue fur?”

“The one that looks like you’ve skinned Sullivan from Monsters, Inc.?”

You rolled your eyes and kept searching.

“Yeah, that would be the one.”

“No, I haven’t seen it.”

Of course not.

Finally when you decided to wear something else and hid the guns in a leather jacket, you found the fur hanging peacefully near your front door. You turned to see Bucky, who was watching Friends with his legs on the coffee table.

“So you haven’t seen it?” You asked, raising your eyebrow and holding a fur with disbelief on your face.

He looked at you and then sighed.

“You better be grateful I didn’t throw it away like I wanted.”

You rolled your eyes and quickly swapped the jackets, making sure Bucky didn’t see you when you were putting the guns in secret pockets sewed into your fur.

He didn’t know everything about your job and it was in your best interest to keep it that way. It wasn’t safe for him to know. The less you know, the better you sleep, that was what your mother said and she was right. If he knew who you were, you’d have to put him in the picture and that would be extremely dangerous; for not every girlfriend is also a Mob boss.

You inherited it after your father died and took his place as the only person who knew the organization inside out. You lived off loans and “protection”, but covered most of your expenses were covered by the income from your club. The venue was also a blind; in the accounting books you could sometimes add extra income in case you had to hide extra cash you earned.

Lately your new problem showed up; when you started selling soft drugs, a Mob similar to yours was displeased. They didn’t want any drugs in their part of the town and you were supposed to meet with their boss that night to talk everything through. You were hoping you would come out with a peaceful solution, mostly because the meeting was to take place in your venue and you didn’t want to ruin the place’s reputation with gunshots.

You parked your orange 1964 Mustang at the back of the club and walked in. The place was loud, filled with people already, even though it was still quite early.

You waved at the bartender and DJ, and walked up to VIP zone. Your associates were already there, drinking your best whisky, dressed in white shirts and gridded with leather belts which held the guns and knives. You greeted them with a nod and sat on your armchair. Waitress brought you your favorite drink which name you didn’t bother to remember, but it was pink, glittery and awfully sweet. You loved it.

“At what time were we supposed to meet?” You asked and took a sip. You were sure you were going to be late, but it looked like it were your guests who were not prompt.

“At nine o’clock,” A men on your right said. “Quite disrespectful of them to be that late.”

You checked time on your phone. He was right, they were running half an hour late.

“Well, if they don’t care about my time, I won’t care about granting peace.”

Bucky’s POV

When you finally got out, he could stop watching that ridiculous show and get properly dressed. He was supposed to meet another Mob boss that night and he sure as hell didn’t want to show up wearing a Batman t-shirt.

A few months ago his people found out that someone was selling drugs in his district and it took him a long time to find out who was at the top of that complicated net, but eventually he was able to contact one of the most important people in that Mob. He was against drugs in any way possible, but he didn’t want to start a war because of it. He set up a meeting with a boss to find out a peaceful solution to that problem and was hoping it would be manageable.

He still didn’t know where he would meet with the boss, but his men were supposed to determine that and let him know. It looked like that person was much undecided and it was reminding him of someone, but he didn’t really know who.

At least before he received a text.

With a location of a club he knew so well.

Y/N POV

You were just supposed to get up, when you heard footsteps on the stairs leading to VIP section. You rolled your eyes and made yourself more comfortable on the cushions.

“I must say, I am not-“ You didn’t finish. A smile crawled on your face when you saw Bucky walking up to you and you got up. You thought it was the Mob boss you were waiting for, but it looked like they decided not to show up. You made sure none of the guns were showing when you closed the distance between you and Bucky and softly kissed his lips. He didn’t kiss you back. “Is something wrong, babe?” You asked, searching his face for any sign of affection.

“With exception of that fur?” He raised his eyebrow and you couldn’t help but smile.

“I’m quite busy now, I’m waiting for someone… Just boring business stuff.” You put your hands on his chest and straightened some folds. “Why don’t you go downstairs and I’ll join you when I’m done? The drinks are on the house.” You kissed him softly and this time he kissed you back.

“Great offer,” he murmured in your lips “and I’ll gladly take it after you tell me why you are selling drugs in my district.”

You froze in place before you stiffly took a step back.

It wasn’t possible.

He couldn’t be.

You rubbed your lips and looked at him again. He was angry. Furious even.

“Boys, leave us” you ordered without looking at your people.

“But, Y/N-“

“Leave!”

They quickly got up and left without any other word.

You heavily sat down on your chair and took out your guns, then put them on the table. They were pinching you and you couldn’t stand it anymore.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked quietly before he sat down next on the armchair next to you.

“Why didn’t you?” You smirked and took another sip of the pink drink.

“To protect you.”

“There’s your answer.”

He sighed and slipped down the chair, kneeling next to you.

“You don’t ever, never need to protect me. I can take care of myself, love.”

You rolled your eyes, but eventually nodded. He was right.

“You’re actually quite hotter now…” He murmured, pressing his lips on your naked knee. “Isn’t that… exciting?” He continued to leave kisses up your thigh. “We should be enemies, hate each other… Not have a romance.”

“A romance? Is that what you call a five year relationship?” You tried to laugh, but his lips kept moving higher.

“Oh, come on, let’s play.” He rolled your skirt up a bit.

“Someone will hear us…”

“Then be quiet.”

His tongue was on your inner thigh, licking a hickey he left there just a few days ago.

“Bucky…”

“Shhh.”

He traced the path his lips made with his cold, metal fingers and softly stroked your skin, finding a way to your laced panties. You couldn’t help but sigh when he touched your womanhood through them, teasing you to the point of losing your mind. He lazily rubbed your clit and kissed your thighs, you curled your toes at the feeling. You had to bit your lip to not make a sound, for even the quietest scream would alarm your men. And, boy, you didn’t want them to interrupt you.

Bucky’s POV

A sight of your wet, laced panties made him horny as fuck, but he wanted to make it all about you. He would never think that he would be so aroused at the thought of you being a Mob boss, but here he was, kneeling before you, about to feast.

A wet stain on the material of your panties was growing bigger, your soft sighs told him you were close to reaching your top. He hooked his fingers on the lace and slowly took them off. He smiled when you spread your thighs and without hesitation pressed his lips onto your wet pussy, leaving a hot kiss. His tongue fell in between your folds, collecting that delicious juice and making you squirm silently before you covered your mouth with a hand.

He smirked and begun to lick you thoroughly, your legs were shaking and he groaned at the taste of you, spilling on his tongue, sending vibrations through your core. Your hand fell on his hair and fingers got lost in dark locks.

A tip of his tongue slipped inside of you, soft walls clenched around it, making it harder to move, but he managed to do it anyway. A second later his tongue was swapped by his fingers, his lips closed on your clit, sucking it and making you squirm.

He curled his fingers a bit, searching for that rough surface inside and stroked it lightly. The tongue on your clit was constantly moving, the hand in his hair pressed his face even closer to your pussy, and your thighs were shaking simultaneously when a moan escaped your covered lips. He kept moving, even faster and rougher now, eating you through your orgasm.

When you stopped shaking and started breathing heavily, he moved away and smirked at you.

“So how will it be with these drugs?”

#bucky x reader

180 notes · View notes

cellard0ors · 5 years ago

Text

Fic: the beginning is the end is the beginning

Rating: Mature

Fandom: Buzzfeed Unsolved, Godzilla: King of the Monsters

Pairing: Ryan Bergara/Shane Madej

Warning: Apocalyptic!End!Of!The!World stuff, mentions of dead people, mass suicides

Summary: The Titans have returned. The world has ended. The Ghoul Boys are still here.

Notes: HO-KAY. This is dedicated to @theawfuledges, who has always been super sweet, super supportive, and who had a bad day a while back and deserved something then but I. Take. FOREVER.

Inspired by this sorta-not-really-prompt-post and also the fact that @theawfuledges seems to also enjoy Godzilla. This is the Shyan!Godzilla!AU NO one asked for and probably NO one will care about - but! I had fun writing it enough that I’d consider coming back to it at some point - I mean, why not, amiright?

Anyway - excuse all my philosophizing about the end of the world via Titans and enjoy…

AO3 Link

They’ve been walking through the wasteland for almost an hour now and Shane can still feel Ryan’s eyes on his back. He ignores it, as he’s been ignoring it. He’s even whistled a tuneless song on and off during their walk, just to rub it in. A sort of reminder that he’s oblivious and doesn’t know Ryan’s trying to burn a hole through him. I mean, he does know, but it’s just…it’s too funny.

Ryan is always too funny when’s worked up into a snit. No, not funny…cute. Something Shane probably shouldn’t think about, but think he does. The best way to try to not think about it? Antagonize the little guy. So antagonize he does, finally stopping in their rambles to squat down at a larger than usual rock he’s kicked at.

It didn’t make him stumble exactly, but it caught his attention enough to make him stop and bend down. He tosses the smooth white stone around in one palm, grinning, “Well, well, well…ain’t you a nifty lookin’ fella…”

He stands back up, fully aware that Ryan has stopped a few feet behind him and is still glaring. Hell, he’s probably reached seething at this point. Balled up fists shaking at his sides and the mere idea of that imagery – the utter adorableness of it – breaks Shane’s resolve, “What?”

“Really?!” Ryan finally explodes and his voice cracks over the word and Jesus, the guy is too goddamn precious for words, “A rock?! That’s what catches your attention?!”

“Sure! This baby could be a geode! Just need to crack ‘er open and see if she sparkles!” Shane returns as he waggles the stone in Ryan’s direction, lips curled in a devious smile. He finally turns to look behind him and see Ryan and oh, no.

Shane wants to press a hand to his heart. Ryan has moved beyond cute, beyond adorable, beyond precious. He’s reached that level where it takes all of Shane’s willpower not to dart right over and kiss the breath out of him as Ryan cries, “I’ve been shooting death daggers at you for over an hour now!”

“Have you?”

“Yes, you monumental jackass! And I know you know it!”

Shane can only chuckle and Ryan frantically waves his arms about, “It’s been weeks now and we still have yet to talk about it! We just go out for recons, talk banal shit, and you – you stop for a fucking pebble instead of doing what you should do!”

Shane merely raises his eyebrows, that question enough and Ryan comes closer, breath all huffy and puffy and the perfect representation of a temper tantrum in human form, “Which is give me the world’s biggest fucking apology!”

“…for?”

“FOR?!” Another word cracked by hysteria, “Being right! Monsters exist! Or is this-” Ryan yet again waves about, waves around at the miles and miles of baked, orange earth and uprooted, long dead trees. The rubble of buildings long since lost, the endless expanse of nothing but baseless destruction – “-not proof enough for you?!”

Shane just dips the rock in Ryan’s direction like it’s the tip of a pointer, “Never said monsters weren’t real. I said ghosts weren’t,” he draws the rock back and continues walking, voice very sage, “And that continues to be a fact." He turns away and starts walking again, "Now the Titans? Oh man, those boys are flesh and blood. Meat and bone. Just like Bigfoot and hey, do you think-?”

“…stop it…”

Shane turns to look at him again even as he continues walking backwards, “-Bigfoot is a Titan?”

Ryan only stops to pinch the bridge of his nose. His earlier anger has finally spooled out of him thanks to his outburst, leaving only his normal Shane-oriented exhaustion, “I mean, he’s no Godzilla or Gidroah-”

“Ghidorah.”

“Hmm?”

Ryan’s tone is bone weary, “You said it wrong. It’s Ghidorah.”

Shane just waves a hand like it’s no big deal and Ryan stands up a little taller, clearly offended by the gesture. Perfectionist. Shane is pretty sure his smile is never going to leave, “Whatever. But Bigfoot…he can hang with the big boys, right?”

“I don’t think Bigfoot is capable of leveling Los Angeles which, news flash, is what happened when Godzilla and the other Titans trampled through!”

“It was their world first, pal,” is his amicable response, “We just have to do our best to live with it.”

Ryan looks less than pleased at that revelation and Shane can’t blame him. Still…

Finally Shane sobers, stopping to look at Ryan with all due seriousness, “Ryan…”

He doesn’t say any more. He doesn’t have to. Ryan just gives his own subdued head bob because, well, it’s the truth. They do have to do their best to live with it. What else can they do? They have no power over creatures taller than skyscrapers. Ancient beasts on par with living gods. The human race did what it could. It wasn’t enough. But – to be fair – what could they do?

Humanity always likes to think of itself as the top tier – nothing bigger, nothing brighter, nothing stronger. And within the span of a few weeks that was proven horribly untrue. Frankly, Shane always knew it would be – humility is something every living being should possess and a lot of humanity lost that long ago – but frankly, he’d been banking on aliens.

Not big ol’ monsters.

Regardless, they are where they are. In a world where massive creatures walk the earth and humans have been knocked down several pegs. Pegs that have to scurry out shelter and he and Ryan found it. They reach it now – an underground bunker dug deep into the earth by god knows who.

The first time they’d found the little hide-ho they’d intended to merely use it for one night, sure that the original owners would appear. But they didn’t. Night after night passed and no one came to claim the bunker – so Shane decided they should claim it for themselves. Hell, they took a bridge from a Goatman and made it their own – why not a bunker?

Hence why it’s colorful name – ‘The Goatman’s Bunker’. He’d even made a sign to that effect once they’d managed to scrounge up some paper and workable pens. Funny the things you find littered amongst the refuse. Like his cool new rock – which he now sets alongside other treasures he’s found in their travels. A kid’s beat up plastic car, a broken snow globe, a crushed cup advertising Disneyland (long since gone – a collectible now!), and other debris he found of interest.

Ryan takes off his backpack and reaches inside, digging out various goodies they scavenged today. Dented bottles of water (always a god send), band-aids, several tin cans of vegetables and meats, scraped bottles with unreadable labels and anything else he could shove in.

They’re both pretty sure they’d come across the ruins of some pharmacy today – maybe a CVS or Walgreens or something – but neither could be certain. But there had certainly been a nicer haul than usual. Some days they walked out into the wasteland and found nothing for miles but old car parts and the occasionally, questionable collection of garbage.

Sometimes…sometimes they found worse things…

Both of them tried their best not to think of those things. Awful, sad things. Dead things. Crushed things. They had a radio in the bunker and there was the occasional chatter, but mostly? Mostly the world was silent. Funny how quickly a world, its people, its governments – could fall apart in the face of something it couldn’t understand.

There was word of massive suicide sites. Places where religious fanatics scrambled, unable to comprehend a world in which something their God couldn’t have possibly made appeared. There was word of places where ground born militias formed. People bloodthirsty for revenge, willing to do whatever they have to, to fight back, to rage against the sky – against forces beyond their control. There has been a lot of different word…but nothing that really concerns the two of them.

At least not for now.

For now?

For now the Ghoul Boys have their Goatman’s Bunker and a questionable collection of cans that will provide tonight’s sustenance.

What Shane wouldn’t give for a can opener. He’s gotten pretty good at stabbing cans open with the knife he has, but sometimes tiny metal shavings still end up in their meals. Tonight is no exception. He stabs away at a few cans, digs out what he can on to broken plates they’d found. Broken, a little chipped – but surprisingly in pretty good condition.

The food, however, is mush. Shane scoops up a bit with his fingers and licks at it, wincing as the taste, “Think this is chickpeas…or maybe hominy…”

“Those two things are very different.”

“Oh, sorry Paul Prudhomme – what’s your expansive palate telling you?”

Ryan’s nose wrinkles even as he takes his own bite, “Um…peaches?”

“Pe-?” Shane can’t even finish, laughing, because this sure as shit isn’t peaches. As is his way, Ryan looks charmingly flummoxed, “I taste something sweet, you dipshit!”

“Well, you did just stick your fingers in your mouth, didn’t you?” Shane teases and he knows it’s on the edge of a flirt and dammit, bad idea, Shane, bad idea…

Again – as is his way – Ryan ignores it. Shane releases the breath he isn’t even aware he’s holding. Good. Ryan shouldn’t respond. Good. And yet…

Shane takes another bite of his ‘dinner’ and it’s as questionable as the last. Maybe even more so, given their last interaction. This is not the time. This is SO not the time. The world’s ended. Or, well, the world as they knew it. Now is not the time to put the moves on Ryan. It wasn’t before. It isn’t now. When will it ever-?

Never, his thoughts whisper, and Shane feels his face fall, feels an uncharacteristic moroseness take him. He polishes off what last few bites he can manage, even though he’s not hungry, and then he rubs his hands clean on the material of his dirty jeans. Not the most hygienic, true – but they can’t waste water.

He can always find some stream tomorrow – do a better job then. Say what you will about the Titans, but their returns had brought some worth while things. California was flusher with fresh streams than ever before. Glowing green plant life – plant life that, before – would have scorched – now flourishes here. It’s as if the arrival of these creatures changed the very exosphere.

He wonders how global warming looks now. Have they caused a monumental shift in it? Probably. If anything has the power to, they probably do. Fuck, they can probably grow back icebergs or something. Create new fossil fuels. God – or heh, Godzilla – knows what. Once feeling his hands are sufficiently clean, he sighs and looks over at Ryan who has started in on again on his torn, dog-eared novel.

“Thinking I’m going to hit the hay.”

Ryan blinks, “Already?”

He just shrugs, “Long day.”

“Yeah,” Ryan admits softly and Shane goes over to his sleeping bag. It’s funny, but in as much as things changed, some have stayed the same. Sleeping together in a dirty, gross shit holes? Just like old times. Except no one’s filming with plans to upload it to the internet later.

The internet. Man. Talk about something to miss. The whole world at your fingertips. Although, in a way, they now have that albeit in a much more literal sense. Shane snuggles deep into his bag and falls to sleep far quicker than he thought he would.

Ryan, for his part, continues to idly pick through his uncovered novel. It’s a pretty decent tale. Romance. Big shocker. The world is over and all he can find in the remains are old bodice rippers. But a book is a book – entertainment is pretty goddamn scarce these days. He’ll take what he can get. True, he wants to click on the radio – see if there’s any good word, any good news – but he doesn’t want to disturb Shane.

…even if the bastard won’t admit he’s wrong. And yeah, the Titans aren’t ghosts. But they are real. So, if they’re real – it’s not much of a stretch to think the same thing of ghosts.

…probably a lot more ghosts now…what with all the…

Ryan can’t even coherently string it all together. All the lives lost. Too many to even begin to contemplate. A planetwide event, a tragedy beyond bearing. And here the two of them are. Holed up in their little bunker, trying to live the best lives they can. Ryan’s a few more pages in when he hears that familiar hum.

His mouth twitches, unable to resist the smile forming.

Ha-hum. Ha-hum. Ha-Hum.

The sound Shane makes while he sleeps. The soft hum of his breathing. Ryan can’t even count how many times he’s fallen asleep to that sound. Clung to it when they were shooting in creepy locations. He never slept well in supposedly haunted locations…but he always slept a little better when they shared space. When he hears those sounds.

Ha-hum. Ha-hum. Ha-Hum.

Like the bastard laughs in his sleep. Although, the sound isn’t quite like a laugh. It just…it has that same warm sound, that rewarding quality his laughter carries. Affable, irresistible, rich and…Ryan looks down at the words on the pages of the book before him, feels his cheeks heat. He’s been reading far too much of this mushy shit. It’s messing with his thoughts. He closes the book and contemplates his options.

Sleep is probably the best among them. He looks to Shane again. Long limbs all akimbo – awkward. He fits within his cocoon and yet not. Ridiculous – those stork legs, those string bean arms…

…how would those arms feel wrapped around-?

Ryan literally tosses his book aside. All your fault, he thinks at it, even as he stands up rolls his shoulders. Okay. Calm on. Relax. Don’t be stupid. Just go to sleep.

He climbs into his own bag, which isn’t far from Shane’s. He dampens their lanterns and it’s dark, cool, quiet. He’s almost asleep when he hears it. A deep, hefty rumble. Like thunder, but worse. Far worse. Worse because no storm has this feeling behind it. This pure, volatile energy.

He sits up, his breath catching. It’s far off in the distance, but it doesn’t matter. He knows what it is. It’s one of them. His heart leaps into his throat and fear throttles him so roughly that at first he can’t move – eyes watering as the sound grows in strength.

…boom…boom…Boom…BOOM!

The last makes the ground shake and he hates the goddamn squeak that leaves him as he physical jolts. Shane (sonofabitch!) is still asleep and Jesus Christ, does this fucker sleep through everything?! Ryan rolls his bag hard to one side, closer to Shane, knocking him with enough force that Shane wakes, voice groggy with sleep, “…izzat?”

“They’re coming! They’re coming!” Ryan wishes he didn’t sound so whiny and high pitched and frantic. For fuck’s sake – he’s a grown man! But the sound of those…footsteps…

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

The ground beneath them shakes violently. Ryan’s experienced earthquakes before (California born and raised) but this is beyond that. This is as if the planet itself is coming apart. Shane sits up, even as Ryan shushes at him, tugs at him – as if somehow Shane’s sitting up, underground, in the dark, can signal the Titans above them.

Shane tilts his head this way and that – clearly doing his best to listen. To pinpoint. And then he slowly turns back to Ryan, “Hey, hey…shush, shush…they’re moving away…”

Ryan’s eyes hurt from being open so wide. Ryan’s chest hurts because his heart is beating so fast. Ryan’s…hurt. He hurts and hurts and suddenly he’s in Shane’s arms. Shane is cuddling him close, “Ry? Ryan, buddy, come on…come on! Calm down, calm down. Breathe…”

…he can’t…Ryan can’t…

“You can,” Shane intones firmly and Ryan realizes he’s said something to that effect aloud, “Ryan, breathe.”

Ryan drags in one loud, long shuddering breath. Then another. Then another. His mind briefly flickers over all he’s lost. All they’ve lost. All the friends, all the family, all the people…the world…

His wide eyes fill. Blink. Shed some tears, there and gone, and he’s still breathing. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. He curls forward some, relaxes, and he’s in Shane’s arms and they’re not quite as string bean as he thought. They have strength and weight and long fingers are stroking through his sweat damp, dark hair. Soothing it back from his forehead.

Ryan lets out a jittery wheeze, “Sorry…must think I’m a dumb ass.”

“No.”

“Shane…”

“Ryan, you’re not a dumb ass because you’re afraid.”

“You’re not.”

“Shows what you know.”

“Shane…”

“Ryan,” Now it’s Shane’s turn to sound bone weary, “We played up that shit for the show. You know that. Being scared of heroin needles and avocado pits and…and you know,” he says it so firmly, with such deep assurance that – even in the darkness of the bunker – Ryan knows he’s looking directly into his eyes, “You know I’m just as human as everybody else. That I get afraid. That I am afraid.”

“Yeah?” Ryan asks and he can’t see the nod, but he knows he gets it. And Shane’s right. Of course he’s right. Ryan knows he’s right. Shane’s not any more of a dumb ass than he is. They have every right to be afraid. Everyone in the world currently is. It’s all changing. It’s all becoming new. So new that to-to be afraid of other things? Silly things? Well, that would be what would make him a dumb ass, right?

And it’s this thought that leads Ryan to ask, “Can I kiss you?”

Two little balls of heat form right on the apples of his cheeks, lighting zipping up and down his spine because – holy shit – did he just say that out loud? And he can’t really see Shane in the cool darkness of the bunker. Their lanterns are out, but he can feel him. Sense him. He’s…close.

And then Shane answers.

“I don’t know…can you?”

It takes Ryan a moment to digest this response. And when he does? He fishes out his flat pillow and hopes it hits hard as he smacks right across Shane’s face, “Fuck you! You-!”

The curse is said without any real heat, but it can’t be helped, because, well – goddammit! So Ryan plans to keep on pummeling Shane until he somehow dies from pillow pummeling only for Shane to stop him. He manages to catch his pillow and stall his movements as he grunts out, “No! Hey! S-sorry, look-! I just-! I just couldn’t help myself, y’know?”

“Oh, do I?!”

“Yeah, man I mean – it was right there!” Shane damn near pleads with him, clearly feeling the opportunity was too good to pass up, “Besides, it was…it was too damned much. You asking like that…all hat in hand…”

Ryan’s struggles with the pillow cease as Shane comes…closer. He can feel him closer. The heat of him, the rush of air on his lips in the dark as Shane talks that his breathe caresses Ryan’s mouth, “But you can, Ryan.”

The last is said with such intensity that Ryan’s whole body shakes harder than when the Titans walked near them. His heart booms louder than their steps. He feels Shane hovering so close, “…I’ve wanted you to.”

A thick, noisy swallow and a very cracking, very insecure, “Yeah?”

“Mmm. Been waiting for you to.”

“R-really?”

A soft scoff, “No, actually – never thought you were interested. Never thought I’d be so lucky. But goddamn Ryan, if you are? You can kiss me and then some.”

That’s all the incentive Ryan needs. He charges forward and yes – kissing in the dark when you’re not quite sure where the other person is? Awkward. WEIRD. Ryan’s lips sort of miss Shane’s and there’s a laugh and a snort and a lot of fumbling in the pitch black dark.

But then?

Oh, then.

Then there’s lips meeting and Ryan’s thoughts splinter, his veins ignite and he’s kissing Shane. Their tongues are tangling, lips playing along one another and suddenly the world isn’t over. It’s just beginning.

#shyan #my writing #theawfuledges #prompt #ish #godzilla!au

31 notes · View notes

biandnotinthemood · 6 years ago

Text

Hoping I See You Tonight (’Cause That’s What Makes Me Feel Alright)

Happy Valentine’s Day, everybody! I’m submitting this fic to @harringroveweekoflove for the ‘FIRST KISS’ prompt. The title comes from the song “if i stay” by obie blue. Hope you guys like it xx

The first time BIlly felt like he could love Steve was after a monster fight. He was sitting apart from everyone else in the mall, wiping down his fire axe with a shirt he’d swiped from one of the stores. The group still wasn’t used to him and that was fine. He wasn’t planning on staying in Hawkins forever anyway. All he had to do was finish high school and then he’d be peeling out of this shithole town, flipping it the bird on his way out. His whole body ached all the way down to his bones and he had blood on his face, but all he could think about was his old man. He and Max were supposed to have been home hours ago and just the thought of what was waiting for him when he finally arrived made him wish he could stay out forever. It’s not like he could just tell Neil he got a little caught up fighting interdimensional monsters in Starcourt Mall. Whatever.

He sighed and leaned his axe against the edge of the fountain he was on, glancing at the cluster of brats swirling around King Steve like a vortex of peeping baby ducks. It was time to go home. “Hey, Maxine!” A weird silence settled over the group the moment Billy yelled and it made him want to climb out of his skin. He hated having so many eyes on him, but forced himself to swallow the discomfort. After all, it wasn’t anything he wasn’t used to already, right? “Tick-tock, it’s time to go.” He grabbed his axe and lugged his body up, not even bothering to say good night or good job or whatever the hell it is you’re supposed to say to people who can barely stand you. Max was still lagging behind him, saying her goodbyes like she wasn’t going to see most of those people in less than 12 hours. “Maxine!”

“I don’t know why you have to be such a dick,” she snarled at him the moment they were alone outside, wrinkling her nose when he lit a cigarette.

“Whatever,” he scoffed, smiling almost to himself, “you’ll be thankful one day.”

“Yeah, right, asshole.” When she climbed into the passenger seat and slammed the door, it was hard enough to shake the whole car. He leaned against his Camaro and kept smoking, knowing full-well he was prolonging the inevitable but just feeling too fucking tired to give too much of a shit. Whether he was 10 minutes late or 10 hours late, it was all the same to his dad anyway. He’d just wanted to get out of the mall. Max was right. Why did he have to be such a dick?

“Hey.” Billy jolted, snapping his head up to see Steve jogging across the parking lot with something tucked under his arm.

“What is it, Harrington? I’m in a bit of a rush.”

“Yeah, it sure seems like it,” he said, flicking his eyes back at Max sitting in the car alone then back at Billy who was still finishing his cigarette and holding his axe like it was a cane. Billy’s face flushed. “I got you something.”

“What, did I forget something?”

“N-no,” Steve mumbled, bouncing in place a little. His big, messy hair flopped every time he moved. Billy would find it endearing if he wasn’t already tossing the butt of his cigarette down and crushing it under his boot. He was out of time. “I just grabbed it for you.”

Billy grinned, squeezing his tongue between his canines to keep from laughing. “You stole something for me, King Steve? And you wouldn’t even let that little kid with the weird teeth have ice cream? That’s pretty cold.”

“What? That’s different, man, I work there!” He punctuated each word with a harsh nod, squinting like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing but never meeting his eyes. “Whatever, just take it.” Steve shoved what he was carrying into his chest and Billy almost didn’t catch it when it fell.

“A jacket?”

“You looked cold.”

“I run hot, but thanks, I’ll definitely... keep this in my closet or something.” He was lying, obviously, but he wasn’t going to get on his knees and blow the guy for stealing a jacket. What sort of precedent would that set? Besides, it was easier to play it off than to admit to himself that those were definitely butterflies in his stomach. Thankfully, Max honked and he got to pull himself away.

And it sucked, it really sucked, because he knew his imagination was going to get the best of him, like it always did. After he got home, after Neil sent Max up to bed, after his dad laid into him, he got to lie in his bed, finally alone and away from all the fucking noise. The sun was going to be coming up soon, probably, and all he could do was think about Harrington. Every little thing about him. The way he fidgeted when he was nervous and even sometimes when he wasn’t, or the collection of blisters and callouses he had on his hands from his special bat, or the little constellations of dark freckles all over his shoulders, or the way he looked down like he was embarrassed whenever he laughed softly, or...

Billy had always been like this. Ever since he was a kid, he’d lived his life with one foot firmly planted in his own head. His mom had always told him he wasn’t like the other kids, that he was special. He’d never believed it, though. He didn’t feel special, he felt like a bitch. Steve had just gotten him a jacket, a jacket, that’s it, and yet here he was, imagining things that would never happen. Imagining Steve getting him more gifts, each more elaborate than the last, or maybe Steve pressing him against the Camaro and kissing him, whispering sweet things that had Billy’s insides turning to sludge, equally disgusting and attracted. Imagining waking up next to Steve, getting to trace those freckles with his fingers while he slept, kissing his soft face, and telling him he loves him until his warm brown eyes fluttered open.

Billy flipped over onto his stomach, anger bubbling in his gut. It was just a jacket.

The first time Billy felt like he could be honest with Steve was after they’d polished off a six-pack of beer. Back in Cali, it’d always been a mission to get booze. One of the perks of living in a backwoods hick town, he guessed. They were sitting on the hood of the Camaro, passing a cigarette back and forth because Steve had left his pack at home and yeah, it was stupid, but Billy wasn’t the one who’d come up with this idea. He also wasn’t going to be the one to complain.

“You still wanna’ leave, right?” Steve asked, looking up at Billy through his lashes and smiling when Billy huffed.

“‘Course I do. This place is a dead fucking end.”

Steve hummed. “You gonna’ go back to California?”

“Well, yeah, where else is there?”

“There’s a whole world out there, Hargrove, but okay.” When Steve lied down, so did Billy. The air was humid and cool, at least by his standards, and the sky was completely clear. It was a beautiful night and Billy hated it with every fiber of his being. Well, almost every fiber.

“Where do you think I should go?”

“I... don’t know.”

Billy scoffed, “that’s real fuckin’ helpful.”

“What I mean is, you’ve already done California, right? And you did Indiana. Why not try something new?”

Billy turned on his side, gazing down at Steve’s pale face glowing in the starlight with a mischievous smile. “You want me to ‘try new things’, pretty boy?”

“Shut the fuck up, that’s not what I meant.” Billy tried not to let his face fall. It was all part of the game they played. He wished it wasn’t a game... “I meant...” Steve trailed off completely, staring up at the night sky while chewing on his lower lip like it was a piece of gum until it was bright and swollen.

“What?”

Steve sat up again. “We got anymore beer?”

“Obviously.”

So they drank some more, sitting and talking and laughing on the hood of Billy’s car until he realized there was no way they’d been sitting close enough to share breath earlier in the night. But there they were, and Billy’s heart was racing, his hands shaking next to him.

“What were you gonna’ say earlier?” he asked, trying to make his voice as soft as possible, even though he knew that wasn’t the sort of guy he was. Steve looked like he was glowing and when he reached up to fix his hair, Billy could see each individual motion mapped out behind him like a shining white ribbon. He was pretty sure he whispered something, but his mind felt foggy.

“I was gonna’ say...”

“Uh-huh?” Billy leaned closer, smiling and gnawing on his tongue when Steve looked down to clear his throat.

“Well, I mean, if you’re dead set on leaving or whatever, I could go with you, y’know, so you’re not, like, alone.”

Billy’s breath stopped short in his lungs. He could already see their life together laid out ahead of him like a never-ending strip of brilliant starlight, every thought or fantasy or memory, whatever, zooming through his head, each one screaming louder than the last. It was overwhelming, it was always overwhelming. Even when it was something he liked to think about, it was still too noisy. He drummed his fingers against his thigh as hard as he could manage, his vision and his head swimming in nothing but Steve.

“Yeah,” he said as soon as he felt solid again, “that sounds cool.” It sounded so much more than cool, but he wasn’t a bitch.

“Yeah?” Steve asked, perking up like a bird and smiling from ear to ear.

“Yeah,” Billy sighed.

The first time Billy and Steve kissed was during the last weekend of the summer. Somehow, the kids had convinced the rest of them to get in their cars and drive for 2 whole hours just to soak up the last bit of summer on the shores of Porter Beach. To call it a beach was way too generous, though, and of course he’d complained about that very loudly for the entire drive. Thankfully, it was just him and Steve in the car. Steve didn’t seem to mind, always either playing along, chuckling to himself, or tuning out Billy’s rambling. Dustin had tried climbing in the car with them, which obviously wasn’t allowed. The only kid who was allowed inside his baby was Max, but she was his sister so the rules didn’t always apply to her. They stopped every time Steve saw something he liked so Billy would pull over and wait while Steve took a bunch of pictures with the camera Jonathan had loaned him.

Their inn was on Dudley Drive and Billy had figured all along the ride that he’d wait for everybody to pick their places and just go where ever there was room for him. He was shocked out of his fucking skin when Steve casually threw an arm around his shoulders and told Ms. Byers they’d be in a room together and watch over Dustin and Lucas.

Yeah, they’d apparently promised to supervise those little shitheads, or whatever. Really, Steve had said all that, so Billy was free to go swimming in the indoor pool that night. He’d been surprised earlier when the Wheeler girl and Jonathan went into separate rooms. He found himself wondering if Steve noticed, if he cared, if he even still thought about Nancy like that. Billy hoped he didn’t, even though it was silly to hope for shit like that.

“Hey.” Billy looked over at Steve, smiling when he saw him walking barefoot above him along the edge of the pool.

“You getting in, Harrington?”

Steve sat down at the edge, hiking up his little orange swim trunks and kicking his long legs under the bright water. “Nah, I’m too fucking tired.”

“Tired? I did all the driving today.” Steve laughed softly, looking down at his lap as Billy swam towards him. “All for you, King Steve.” When Billy did an exaggerated bow, Steve kicked him away.

“Asshole.”

“You know it. What are you doing here anyway? Aren’t you supposed to be watching the rugrats?”

“Okay first of all,” he said, clasping his hands together like he was about to give a lecture, “don’t call them that. And second of all, we’re both supposed to be watching them.”

Billy shrugged. “Well, you see, I just don’t remember agreeing to that, Steve.”

“You’re such a dick!” Steve kicked a bunch of water at him and Billy ducked below the surface, darting around until he was able to get a grip on Steve’s ankles and yank him down with him. Billy could see them like he was hovering above them, watching the way they swam together. It was so easy to love Steve, so easy when he was hearing his laugh or staring at the water dripping down the sides of his face and into his darkened white t-shirt.

When they were sitting on the edge together later, Steve’s hair was drying with chlorine in it and it was making it droopy and even a little curly in certain places. He’d already thrown down his white t-shirt and it’d hit the tiled floor with a hard, wet slap. Steve’s torso was long and lean, but defined in a way Billy’s wasn’t. He wished Steve had a necklace like he did, so they could match and he could tug him closer by the chain. He could picture it so clearly in his head, their lips pressed against each other, the clean blue light from the pool dancing on Steve’s skin, the thick forest outside the giant windows across the room. In his mind, he was never nervous, never had shaky hands or goosebumps all over his arms. In his mind, Steve always liked him too.

“Well, thanks for that, Billy. I was hoping to avoid taking a shower tonight.”

“Gross.”

“Listen, I already showered at home before we left today.”

“It’s still gross,” he said, mostly just trying to get under Steve’s skin. Judging by the way he squinted and turned away, his face pink, Billy was pretty sure he’d succeeded.

“Stop looking at me like that, asshole,” he mumbled.

“Like what?” Billy asked, trying to put on his biggest, saddest puppy eyes. When Steve glanced back at him, he did that thing where his eyes fluttered and he looked down.

“Stop messing with me.”

The words felt like a lance right through his heart and Billy instinctively touched his chest like he was expecting to actually grab it and pull it out, but there was nothing there. There never was, he was just... well, his mom called him sensitive, and his dad called him a queer. Why did either of them have to be right? He felt the stinging in his eyes, but he just rubbed a wet hand on them so he could blame it on the chlorine later.

Billy cleared his throat, trying to breathe through the lump in his throat. Steve didn’t hate him, Jesus fucking Christ. He needed to get it together. “I’m surprised Nancy and Jonathan aren’t sharing a room,” he said slowly, cracking all the knuckles in his right hand over and over again.

“Huh? Oh, yeah, I guess.” Steve waved the whole thing away with a flick of his wrist before shaking a hand through his wet hair.

Against all hope, Billy’s heart picked up in his chest like an orchestra. His dreams almost never came true or if they did, it was never for very long. “So what, you don’t care anymore?”

“It’s been almost a year.” Billy hadn’t been there to see the so-called good times between Steve and Nancy. The first time he’d even realized they were an item was at the Halloween party when good-old King Steve managed to spill a shitton of red punch on his girlfriend’s white shirt. The whole thing had looked like a goddamn crime scene.

“That’s true...”

“I mean, did I think I was going to spend the rest of my life with her? Yeah. But, I mean, you can be wrong about stuff like that, right?” Steve met and held his gaze like he wanted an actual answer, those sweet brown eyes big enough for him to fall into.

“I guess, yeah. I’m wrong about shit like that all the time.” And yeah, wow, he really shouldn’t have given his sadness a voice because now Steve was furrowing his eyebrows and squinting at him.

“All the time?” Billy’s heart was beating so hard and so fast, it was actually hurting him. Everything was fading at the edges. Just like that, he was jerked like a ragdoll from harsh, sticky sadness into sharp, hot panic.

“I’m done here, Harrington.” The words were out of his mouth while he was still scrambling to stand, Steve struggling to follow him.

“Hey, w-wait.”

He was already thinking about the future, each thought zipping and zooming inside him like galloping monsters reaching out and hitting him every time they passed. He could leave in the morning or, fuck it, right now. He’d drag Max out of her room if he had to. Sure, they’d been making great progress, but she could go back to hating him. Steve had already graduated. As long as Billy stayed away from Scoops Ahoy, he never had to see him or talk to him again. It was all so clear to him, so completely perfect, the sort of guy he’d have to be to get through this. He’d been that guy before. He could do it again. He didn’t have to be “special” or “sensitive”, like his mom always said, and he didn’t have to be a fag or a queer, like his dad always said. He could be neither, he could be nothing, he could swallow it.

When Steve grabbed his arm and didn’t let him jerk away, all the noise dropped down to something almost like silence in his head. “Billy. Come here.” And he did, he turned back and watched as Steve slowly raised both of his hands up to Billy’s face. When their lips slotted together, it was nothing like the million scenarios he’d dreamed up in his head. He wanted to pull away and say sorry but every time he tried, Steve would grab him and guide him back.

#mine #harringrove #billy has type 3 adhd and you can't change my mind!

81 notes · View notes

sicklylittlesnowflake · 7 years ago

Note

HI!!! so i noticed a little star next to T'Challa and I saw Black Panther tonight and guess who's craving so black panther sickfic? I so bad at prompts so here's me hoping you already have some or make one up because I'm sure anything you come up with will be better than mine so consider this an if you find yourself deciding between some prompts, choose a Black Panther! lol i hope this made sense aha

(Okay so I do have another T'Challa prompt which I will 100% write in the not so distant future; but I’ve had this idea in my head since I watched the film and I really want to write it, so due to the free nature of this prompt I’ve used it as an excuse that write this fic! Hope that’s ok!!)

T'Challa sees him every night.

He is not a monster. He is not a storm that will ravage Wakanda.

He is a boy.

He’s seen those eyes. So heavy. He’s seen the anger, the fire. Tell tale signs that he is not completely broken. That there’s still something in him that hasn’t been demolished by the sins of his nation. He’s angry because he has been belittled far too long. He has been outcasted too long, left in the cold. So he craves flame, and for that flame to destroy them. Bask in their warmth. It’s not right, T'Challa knows, but deep within him he understands. And in a sad, twisted way, he is right.

Because he’s seen the fear. He’s seen the flickering remnants of a boy who once was. T'Challa’s seen the innocent delight of a boy watching an astonishing sunset. He’s seen the glee of a father’s promise fulfilled. Just a boy.

T'Challa’s seen that sadness. That somber mourning for a life that could’ve been. He sees in his eyes that twinkle of regret, or the twinkle of nostalgia for a home he’s never had. T'Challa feels it too. In his dreams he stands next to him in battle. He is strong. He is brave. He is mighty.

And then the paradise ends and he sees him again as he is. He sees him crumbling. Trembling. Dying.

T'Challa sees hope in him but he doesn’t. He would much rather die right now. When he bleeds out he is free. And to him it is a better fate than bondage, better than the life he had been living. He didn’t see the hope. He’s been broken too much.

And that’s what keeps T'Challa awake at night. A boy with so much light and destiny stripped away of his grace and shunned. A product of the darkest side of his nation. A boy dead because they refused to let him in.

T'Challa is tired. He’s drained. Too much has happened all at once and everything he once knew has been unravelled before him. He doesn’t sleep. So much so he’s gotten weak. Sick. Fevered.

But he cannot rest. T'Challa cannot rest because every time he closes his eyes the haunting picture of Erik jolts him from sleep. T'Challa cannot rest with the thought that there are so many little boys and girls who may be on the same road. A road so easily diverted if Wakanda emerged from the shadows.

T'Challa is the king. And as king he has no time to rest. He must work. He must please his people. Wakanda must stand strong. And he must show them the way. T'Challa cannot be weak.

And as trained as he is, as educated as he is, as molded as he is to be perfect, he cannot get past Shuri.

She knows him best. She knows when he is not well. She knows the tired glaze over his eyes, and the slightly ashy sheen that paints his face. She knows the slight slouch in his stature. Shuri knows where he would be if he were to stall his own personal welfare.

Shuri finds T'Challa hunched over a collection of documents.

His body is shaking, he feels hot and cold waves pulsate through him in antithetical directions so he feels like he is burning and freezing at the same time. As he tremors his leg rattles against the chair, and his penmanship is wobbling as he signs the document he had just been reading.

“Brother,” She calls out quietly, but apparently not quiet enough as it is loud enough to cause her brother to jolt, and wince slightly as his headache intensifies.

“Sister,” He replies calmly, his voice low and raspy, on the verge of fading away completely. It makes him sound small. And her brother is not small, he is mightier than he will ever know or believe, so she knows something is awry.

“You’re not well,” She comments, approaching him from behind his chair and resting warm hands on his shoulders, circling them in a reassuring manner that is prompting him to rest.

“I’m fine,” He replies hastily, reaching for the next document on his pile and he begins to read. But the words cross fade and it is incomprehensible. His senses seem to heighten in the worst possible way, and there is too much. T'Challa cannot handle it.

Shuri sighs softly, knowing full well what is ailing her brother. It puzzles everyone, but the two of them have this bond that cannot be explained, not even through science, and science is Shuri’s bread and butter. And if she cannot explain it herself, then it is an intangible mystery.

“You should rest now,” Shuri presses further, a little more firm this time.

T'Challa shakes his head adamantly, “I cannot.”

“And why not?”

“Because I am king, I must serve my country,” He proclaims confidently, but Shuri can detect the wavering, the weariness, the fear laced in between his words.

“You cannot do so if you’re incarcerated by illness. You are not at your maximum potential, so therefore you are not performing to your maximum potential,” She argues, although her tone is still sweet and gentle, and very clearly stemming from a place of love.

T'Challa sighs heavily, deflated, stifling a short series of coughs against the cuff of his sleeve, “I must push through. I cannot abandon Wakanda for even a second. They need me.”

Shuri raises an eyebrow, “That is exactly my point.”

T'Challa can’t help the small chuckle that manages to escape him. She had always been smart. She’s always been one step ahead of him, and he could not be prouder.

“You’re good.”

“I know.”

He sighs softly, “I will rest later. You should be on your way.”

Shuri knows when his promises are empty. She is his sibling, after all. But she also knows when it is useless to fight (she can’t waste time, she’s got better things to do) so she just nods and walks away, and goes to seek someone she knows T'Challa cannot resist.

When Nakia finds out that T'Challa is sick she drops everything she’s doing and heads straight for him. She knows him. She knows he’s difficult, that he likes to shut himself away and lock himself behind these high walls he’s built around himself. She would know, any person who had loved him at some point would know.

And she still loves him. T'Challa has built these walls around himself to hide the part of him he doesn’t want the world to see; but that part he hides, she loves very dearly. She loves him, so she would drop anything she was doing for him.

He is difficult. He’s hard to find. But she has known him so long. She finds him.

She finds him watching the sunset. A glorious sunset that sweeps across the country, its warm blaze glowing upon the evergreen grass of their nation. She knows he loves the sunset. Every citizen of Wakanda does. It reminds them of their strength. It is the symbol of their nation.

“T'Challa,” She starts softly, her steps towards him nimble and gentle. She assumes a seat next to him, and she gazes out to the horizon with him.

“Nakia,” He replies tiredly, his eyes glazed. He seems distant.

Before she can speak he chuckles softly, “Shuri sent you, didn’t she?”

“Of course she did, I wouldn’t come after you if I had the choice,” She jokes lightly. But they both know they’re lies. She would stand by his side for as long as she possibly could.

There is a short silence that ensues. But it’s not uncomfortable. It’s sweet.

“You haven’t been sleeping. You’re not well,” She says, breaking the silence. She is not accusing.

He exhales, “I see him every night.”

“Killmonger?”

“No, Erik.”

Nakia tenses a little and sighs, “I think about him all the time too.”

“He was a child,” T'Challa breathes, “And he was abandoned.”

“We outcasted him. He had no home. He was alone,” He whispered.

She nodded, “He was not a good person. But..if we had never left him alone..I like to think he would’ve been different.”

“I saw his eyes, Nakia. There was still a little bit of light. But he wanted to be free. He could’ve been free, Nakia. He needed us. We’ve spent so long hiding in the shadows. When we have so much. How many other kids are out there suffering? How many more Eriks?”

“I am so ashamed, Nakia. When I looked at him, there was so much pain. He was so broken. He thought there was nothing left inside of him. He crumbled and we watched. We didn’t do anything.”

“We can now,” Nakia says suddenly.

“But my father–”

“You are not your father. You are king of Wakanda. You have spent your whole life training to make sure Wakanda is alive. But is Wakanda really alive if we hide? Stay in the shadows? What if Wakanda were to emerge into the light and glow just like this sunset before us? Wouldn’t we then be alive?”

“We cannot reverse what has been done. The dead have been laid to rest. You cannot bring him back, T'Challa. But you can make sure that nobody else breaks like that ever again.”

“Wakanda is mighty. But we are not the only mighty ones. United we must be. We cannot sit and watch as the world falls into barbarian ways, we must stand together. It is the only way we as a human race can truly progress. It is our responsibility, T'Challa. It is now we must stand. You must lead us. I know you can.”

A silence falls between them.

“Wakanda has spent too long in the shadows,” T'Challa says quietly, but not weakly. He is strong. He looks off into the sunset and a smile creeps onto his face.

“It is time we step into the light.”

Nakia smiles. She knows they will. She believes in her leader.

But it is then when she realises how unwell he is.

She quickly places a hand on his forehead, and the surface her hand lies overtop sizzles, “T'Challa, you’re burning up!”

He merely grunts before she’s yanking him up to his feet, slinging his arm over her shoulder and drags him away, “You need rest.”

The next minutes go in a flurry, she is dragging him to his bed and is rushing for a cloth. She dampens it with cold water and places it over his forehead, trying to get his fever down.

“T'Challa, you are an idiot,” She hisses, but there is a fondness to her voice.

“Your idiot,” He grins cheekily. She rolls her eyes at him.

“Unfortunately so.”

He looks at her with such a loving gaze she wants to melt, but she holds herself together. He is so ridiculously goofy in the most endearing way, and the next second he is her stoic and mighty king. She likes both versions.

“What?” She asks, unable to disguise the fondness in her voice, unable to disguise her smile.

“You’re just so wonderful.”

She scoffs.

“You inspire me every day. You inspire me to be a better king, better person. Your work has opened my eyes. Our country will be better because of you. The world will be better because of you.”

She tries to hide her smile, “Your fever is talking.”

“No, my heart is.”

She whacks him playfully on the arm, “Shut up!”

“We’re ready to stop hiding. We’re going to reveal ourselves at last,” T'Challa says softly, but surely.

“I am ready,” She says with a smile so bright.

“You need to get better first. Rest, then you can show the world how much we kick ass.”

“We’ll show the world what Wakanda really is.”

And after they do, T'Challa can rest again. He still sees Erik every night. But every night Erik’s eyes seem to get a little bit lighter.

#t'challa #black panther #nakia #shuri #erik killmonger #t'challa x nakia #wakanda #marvel #mcu #chadwick boseman #black panther fanfiction #sickfic #fever #prompts #lupita nyong'o

95 notes · View notes

imgilmoregirl · 7 years ago

Note

Hi! Can you write a bad angst family thing? You always write happy endings for the angst.

Oh anon, this fic’s fault is all on you…

This work can also be found on AO3.

Summary: Rumplestiltskin wakes up after the curse to find out that he made the biggest mistakes he could think of.

Notes: Disclaimer: I don’t own Once Upon A Time or any of the characters and storylines in the show.

Trigger warning for suicide attempt. I never thought I’d write another season 1 AU, but this prompt could only fit it. Sorry for the angst.

His Cursed Soul

Hestood in front of the window, feeling some kind of coldness that had nothing todo with the weather, but with the despair feeling his soul in that moment. Shewas sat on the hospital bed inside there, both wrists wrapped with bandage, herskin twice as pale as it should be, her lips, once plump and pink, now whiteand dry, her eyes lost in an invisible point as her trembling hand disappearedinside the acrylic bassinette to soothe the small creature laid inside there,bundled in white blankets. She looked miserable and his heart thumped painfullyin his chest at the realization that he had caused this.

Slowly,his eyes slid shut, memories of two different lives getting mixed inside hishead, but even though everything seemed confusing, he could still manage todiffer the voices of two cruel men. Rumplestiltskin. Mr. Gold. No matter whichname or skin he used, he had been the coldest bastard in the world with theonly woman who had ever loved him and now this was his punishment: to watchher, weak and hopeless, wishing to be dead and having to force herself towhisper sweet nothings to keep his child quiet.

Whenhe opened his eyes again, he saw that she had pulled the bundle up to her armsand fat tears were now falling from her eyes. A part of him urged to get insidethat room, to comfort her and hug her tight, but as the one to cause her thepain she was feeling now, he knew it was better to watch from distance. Hewondered if she would reject the child later, but then he saw Belle brushingher lips tenderly against the new-born’s forehead, bathing it with her tearsand, for the first time in long, he heard her voice.

“I’msorry,” Belle whispered. “I’m so sorry for what I did. I didn’t meanto hurt you… But now that you’re here, I promise I will never to such a thingagain. You will be the air I breath and the reason my heart beats. I love youmore than anything.”

Thechild’s answer was a wail, a very thin one, which made him think that the poorthing was probably too small and weak. She wasn’t supposed to have given birthnow, it was too soon, but he had heard that when she arrived the hospital,there was no hope for her so all the doctor could try was to save the baby shecarried. But both of them had survived, both were safe and alive and he didn’tunderstand why it felt even worse than facing a death to him. Maybe because heknew that she hated and that the child in her arms was destined to do the same.Just like Baelfire.

Hetook a step back, eyes still fixed on them, but his mind too lost in thememories to really pay attention to what was happening inside that hospitalroom.

Shewas cleaning his house that day – as any other day ever since her father becameunable to pay for the rent with only the money he made at the flower shop –when he came back home, almost exploding with anger after things finally madesense to him. Last night, before she went home she had confessed that she waspregnant and he wasn’t able to say anything immediately, so he let her go andmade sure that he wasn’t there when she arrived that morning to do her job. Butnow that he fully understood the meaning of this, he needed to end this storyas soon as he could.

“Thiscan’t stand,” Gold yelled, storming inside the living room to find herdusting his bookshelves.

“Excuseme?”

Herblue eyes were wide, as if she was slightly scared.

“Youneed to get rid of it,” he lost no time to say. “You can’t have thischild.”

Sheblinked, then released a sound that was something between a gasp and ahumourless chuckle. Her hands dropped to her hips and she lifted her chin,pulling on that petulant attitude that drove him mad at the same time it madehim want to lay her down on the floor and fuck her until she was blind withpleasure.

“I’msorry I didn’t make it clear for you, Mr. Gold, but you don’t have a saying init. It’s my body, my choice,” she stated. “I’ve just told you becauseI thought you had the right to know.”

“You’regoing to ruin your life and my lifeif you keep it,” Gold insisted. “I will pay for the clinic.”

“No.”

Thebrunette gave her back to him so he couldn’t see that she was fighting againsther tears. She loved him, she had told him so a couple of failed time and wasalways snapped at. He said she was young and stupid, that she had no idea ofwhat she truly felt and she hated him for it, but if she couldn’t have him,then at least she would have this. The child he had put inside of her.

“Don’tbe stupid, Lacey, you don’t want it,” he continued. “You can’t eventake care of yourself.”

SuddenlyLacey spun on her heels, throwing the duster at him and letting some of hertears escape her eyes.

“Whodo you think you are to tell me what I can do or not?” She shouted out inanger. “Screw you, Gold. I’ll show you’re wrong.”

Henodded without changing the blank, cold face he had pulled on. Bastard. He didn’t act like this when hewas in need of a blowjob. She was wonderful and independent when it wasconvenient for him, but when it wasn’t then she was a spoiled girl, who knewnothing about life. Lacey was tired of it, she just wanted him to be honestwith himself about what he felt about her and what he wanted, but apparentlytoday wouldn’t be the day it was going to happen.

“Fine,”Gold snapped. “You’re fired.”

“What?”

“Getthe hell out of my house.”

So,she did and she never came back.

Heregretted that day, he did it now as he kept watching her - nursing the babeand still whispering to it - and he did it by the moment he recovered his memorieswhen Emma’s name woke him up. Mr. Gold had vague memories of her walking aroundtown, almost escorted by Ruby Lucas, the only one who hadn’t turned her back toher after she revealed that she was expecting the town’s monster’s child. Herfather threw her out, refused to help her as did he, who pretended she didn’texist and the child swelling her belly wasn’t his.

Backthen he meant every word he said, or at least Gold did. Rumplestiltskin wasn’tless a bastard than him, but wouldn’t have commanded her to make an abortion,to rip his own child from her body. In fact, he would have begged his belovedto let it grow and if she didn’t want to be involved in its life, he would makesure that at least the babe was safe and cared for. He knew how it felt to losta child, he would never want to lose another, but his other persona thoughtotherwise. Gold wanted to inflict that pain to Belle - Lacey as she was calledhere - when she clearly only wished to have her baby in her arms.

Apparently,the details of the child’s conception meant nothing to her, as she traced itsbare arm with a finger as if she was seeing light for the first time in herlife. She was in love with the little thing, he could see and he felt jealous,because she would never love him the way she loved his babe. He was spell-boundedby their image. He could still remember how he had fucked her against the wallat dungeons of his castle. His pleasure had been immense, but he had meant tohurt her to prove to that stupid little maid that nobody could love him and allshe did was to writhe in his arms and reassure him of how much he was wanted.Rumplestiltskin had no mercy, he was rude and forceful and the product of thatnight laid now on her arms, nursing as the woman who had just tried to killherself sang to it.

Mr.Gold was not much different from him, although he was crueller. He had used herin all the ways he wanted, not caring even a bit for what she felt. In thisland, he had learned, numbers mattered a lot, which was why the whole town wasscandalized when they found out about the affair between a young girl whobarely reached the age of nineteen with and old pervert in his late fortieslike him. Gold pretended not to hear the offenses the people made whenever hecrossed paths with them after he threw her out, he missed his little toy, buther attachment to him and the fact that she was willing to birth that child,made him forget her in a few weeks.

“Yourbreathing is so difficult…” Belle murmured from inside the room.“They said your lungs weren’t fully ready yet. It’s my fault, I know, butI want you get strong. I need you toget strong.”

Hereleased a sharp breath. The child was really weak. It could die. If it did, itwould kill her like the wounds in her wrists weren’t able to and if they bothdied, then it would be the end of the small spot of light that still existed inRumplestiltskin’s dark, cursed soul.

Itwas about noon that morning when Mr. Gold made his way to his shop aftercollecting the rent of a few people. The nuns had been his favourite, becausethey didn’t have all of it and he threatened to throw them out of the conventif they didn’t pay him until the weekend. He had a grin on his face and a pairof sunglasses on, leaning heavily against his cane as he walked, enjoying thesunlight, when he heard a shout coming from somewhere behind him and had to turnaround to look at a teary-eyed Ruby Lucas, wearing more clothes than she usedto in a daily basis.

“Areyou happy now?”

“Forgiveme, Ms. Lucas, but I have no idea of what you’re talking about.”

“Lacey,”Ruby choked the name. “She slit her wrists this morning. Because of you,because she still loves you and you ignore her and now she is going to have achild that she can’t take care of!”

Fora brief moment his whole word stopped. Lacey slit her wrists. Stupid girl, whatdid she think that she would won with it? Wasn’t she the one so decided to keepher child and raise it all alone? She certainly should have come to her sensesand realised that was never going to make it on her own.

“Ioffered her a solution, Ms. Lucas, she didn’t want to accept it,” he saidwith a shrug. “I’m sorry that she is dead but she chose it herself.”

“Sheis not dead,” Ruby yelled, but then her eyes fell to the floor and hershoulders shook visibly. “At least she wasn’t when I left the hospital.They are trying to save her baby first.”

Themost selfish part of him wanted them to fail saving the child, because if Laceywas dead, but the babe was alive, then he would have to deal with people comingafter him and trying to make him take care of it, because after all he had madethe stupidity of conceiving it.

“Goodluck for the doctors then,” he said emotionless before turning around andstarting to make his way down the street again, straight to his shop, where he hopedto not be bothered.

“You’resuch a cold-hearted asshole,” Ruby Lucas yelled at him. “You neverdeserved her!”

Yeah, Gold thought, I didn’t.

Stupid, silly girl.

Hehad no idea how long he stayed there, watching Belle tender the baby, but whenhe heard two nurses talking about how she was going to be locked on the asylum –her father had already signed the papers that allowed them to do so – and thebaby was going straight to adoption, he knew he needed to do something to stopit from happening.

Shewas weak, lost lots of blood and the baby was fragile, he heard it from her ownmouth. They were both going to die if they were separated. He dropped his gazeto his cane – a reminder of his past of cowardice – and decided that he couldbe the cold he was one last time if it was to save them both. Rumplestiltskintook a deep breath and swung the hospital room’s door open, startling Belle,who jumped in place and clutched the little bundle closer to her chest.

“Whatare you doing here?” Belle – no, not Belle, Lacey – asked.

“I’veheard about your failed attempt to kill yourself.”

“So,you came here to check if it was true?” She laughed humourlessly. “I’m sorry todisappoint, Mr. Gold, but we are both fine. Now, if you don’t mind please getaway from us before your cold sight can fall over my baby and - God forbit –make something bad happen to him.”

Heswallowed hard, jealously and something else – pain maybe – filling him. Shehad a boy, one that would be a reminder of his failures with Bae forever. Hewas hoping for a girl ever since he woke up from the curse, one that was sweetand innocent like Belle and didn’t have anything of him. But life was full ofdisappointments.

“Him?”

“GideonFrench,” she said. “My son. Nobody else’s.”

Thebabe turned around in her arms, making a soft noise, his tiny hands moving upand the blanket falling a bit to reveal his face. Dark eyes, like his, but asmall little face as angelic as its young mother’s.

“You’regoing to my house. You’ll stay in one of the guest rooms and be as much of asilent ghost as you can,” he defined as coldly as he could. “I’ll proved foryou and him.”

“Idon’t want to.”

“Youdon’t have a saying in this,” Gold said, copying the words she had told him solong ago. “Either you come with me or your sweet father will throw you in theasylum and the child will be given to adoption.”

Sheblinked and there were suddenly fat tears falling down her face as she lifted thebaby up, laying his little hand on her chest, where he had laid his so manytimes before.

“What?”

“I’llbe back tomorrow morning and you can decide.”

Heleft and she cried.

Shehated him and she loved him.

Thenext morning when he came back, she went to his house. But not for herself.Never again for herself.

#rumbelle #rumbelle fic #mine #writing #rumplestiltskin #belle french #anon prompt #ao3 #fanfic

1 note · View note

purplehairedhero · 7 years ago

Text

A Fen/Femhawke Baby Fic List

A Fenris/FemHawke family/pregnancy/baby fic lists. Still a WIP. Only criteria is that it is FemHawke/Fenris, and it can’t be sad/depressing (I’m looking at you “Here Lies the Abyss” fics). Send me recs! Edit: 10/19/17 New stories added, Natural by Cannibal Kats and several at the bottom.

“Hiding, Not Quite Hidden” by Brosca-Pride. Hawke and Fenris, together forever, even if it means hiding themselves and children from everything.

“Was it Worth it:?” by CannibalKats. Just a short piece about Fenris and Dahl Hawke during Inquisition. Bonus Papa Fenris.

“Take Care of Her” by CannibalKats. Anders, Hawke, and Fenris are the only members of the Kirkwall crew still on the run. Fenris catches Anders leaving in the middle of the night and promises not to let Hawke follow.

“Natural” by CannibalKats. A short bit of fluff. The birth of Fenris and Dahl's first child. While not graphic childbirth is described from Fenris' pov.

“Wander Wild and Far.” by Spirrum. After Adamant Hawke leaves for Weisshaupt as planned, but finds instead an entirely different adventure, a stray Fereldan Queen, a dragon, and that being pregnant wile the world is ending is not all that it’s cracked up to be.

“So Much Hinges on a Maybe.” by Spirrum. Hawke and Fenris, and trying to get pregnant.

“Frostling” by Spirrum.You can grow to love a great many things.

“Smaller Flames.” by Spirrum. Their youngest discovers her magic, in true Hawke fashion. With an explosion

Broody Porcupine Snapshot Series by TheFlamingNymph. An AO3 collection.

“Little Monster” by TheFlamingNymph. Hawke just wants a nap. Just one.

Fenris and Hawke’s Family Series by SassyOrlesian. An AO3 collection.

“What I was made for” by MiaCousland. Hawke and Fenris’ child is brought into the world.

“Steal and Shadow” by MiaCousland. Hawke has to find her way throught the Frostback Mountains to answer a letter that has been sent by an old friend from Kirkwall. Note: Haven’t read this one personally yet.

“The Elf and the Babe” by Gaqalesqua. Fenris, romanced by a female Hawke, turns up at Skyhold wearing a baby sling with a baby in it. Trevelyan investigates.

“The Life We’ve Wrought” by ClockWorkSymmetry. Hawke x Fenris is adorable.

Wil and Cro Hawke Series by NovemberOcean (TwilightHawke). An AO3 collection.

“A Change in Principles” by K4t3yk4t. He hadn’t expected things to end up like this. Of course, there had been signs, and of course, they’d planned for it, but he had never expected anything like this to happen. Not to him. He feels rooted; an immobilization worse than any command had ever caused, worse than seeing Hawke nearly die, worse, so much worse. And yet...

“Ardently” by Uniqueinalltheworld.When Marian Hawke decided to leave her children with responsible adults before helping the inquisition, she had counted on being able to find one somewhere. Unfortunately, it seems like Anders and Fenris will have to do.

“Dawn” by Alistairweekend. “Mm...your kid before five in the morning.”

“Hawkquisition Series & other Stories” by Rannadylin. Most of her work has a baby or pregnancy existing somewhere. Special mention goes to Sapling.

Misadventures of Mari Hawke Series by Wintryone. An AO3 collection.

“A Different Kind of Magic” by sevanderslice. Fenris’s thoughts after the birth of his children.

“Finally together, Birds of a Feather, part 1″ by Hatsepsut. Fenris and Hawke are together after three years, and their relationship evolves. Moving in together, falling even deeper in love, going through the paces that are life, having a family, while the world crashes around their ears.

“Come Back to Me.” by Hatsepsut. Fenris leaves he City of Chains after the night he spends with Hawke; heavy words had been exchanged and everything between them looked hopeless. Eleven months later, he is back, determined to win the affection of the woman he can't forget again. But she seems to have a secret...

“On Waking” by loquaciousquark. Years after the events of Act III, Hawke and Fenris’s six-year-old daughter tries to figure out her mother’s past, her place in the tiny town of Wilhaven, and why her father never wakes up. AUTHORS SEAL OF APPROVAL.

“No Labor Like Love” by loquaciousquark. Hawke is pregnant. Fenris copes as best he can; everyone else laughs from a distance. A series of unconnected vignettes spanning the pregnancy of a Champion. AUTHORS SEAL OF APPROVAL. The quintessential pregnancy/family fic.

“Given Respite” by loquaciousquark. Dorian meets Fenris. An interlude set after “Here Lies The Abyss.” Same universe as On Waking? AUTHORS SEAL OF APPROVAL. Honestly anything written by loquacious is amazing but this is a BABY fic list but seriously do yourself a favor and devour their work. Has a “sequel” written by Jade_Sabre called “Memorare” but not very related to this list either.

“A Deafening Sound” by loquaciousquark. Fenris and his newborn daughter.

“Whats that Holiday fic” by loquaciousquark. Carver meets his newborn nephew. This. THIS. This is the story I started this list looking for. I knew I wasn’t crazy! But on tumblr of all places???

“More Beach fic” by loquaciousquark. The fam is at the beach.

“I Mourn your Absence.” by loquaciousquark. Fenris and Leda go after Hawke.

“In Retrospect, a chicken was a bad choice.” by jadesabre301. The title says it all. Features laquaciousquark’s Leda Hawke.

“Always Safe with Us.” by Tadeusz. Hawke thought raising a baby with a trio of parents would be easier than with just two. That’s hilarious, Hawke. Totally cute that you think that. All it does is create more confusion about who has to get up when that baby cries at night.

“Hands and Feet” by Toffle. The revelation does not come in ice, or fire. It comes only with a gentle touch.

“Celebration” by Scurvaliciousbay. Fenris wakes up to Katra making a cake for their daughter’s first birthday. “Three Words” is a sequel. Fenris is putting his daughter to bed when she says something unexpected.

“New Beginnings” by onemooncircles. Heading home after concluding his business with the Inquisition, Varric pays a visit to some friends he has lied through his teeth to protect.

“The Wolf Within” by Ivy_Adair. Five years after Fenris left Marian Hawke behind in Kirkwall, he returns to discover that some things never change but others, like the addition of a little girl with black hair and green eyes, change completely. He mush come full circle to realize that he isn’t his past and that the wolf within him won’t be his future. A modern!AU.

“Medela” by mahuika. It surprises him, as it always has, how resilient a heart can be when he’s so used to seeing them ripped out and half-beating in his hand. Or, Varania is invited to meet her niece. AUTHORS SEAL OF APPROVAL.

“Exhale” by Chalahandra. Rhonwen gurgles, pushing herself up from the quilt. It’s a sunny day, with birds chirping and people talking quietly - and for the first time in a very long time, Fenris lets himself smile.

“A Cold Winter Day.” by Pinkwebby. Hawke has been pregnant for nine months, and she is ready to give birth to this child. Is she really ready to have a kid though?

“Playing in the Rain” by servantofclio. Hawke watches her partner and children in the rain. Has sequal “A Reunion and a Reckoning.” Fenris catches up to Hawke at Skyhold.

Dragon Age: Generations Series by DancingMantis. Roots and Wings more relevant to list.

“She Came Back.” by LittleWritings. Fenris finds Hawke at Weishaupt. Its a little rough but different than most.

While you were Sleeping Series by hollandmarie. VERY CUTE.

“The Hawke Child.” by CaptainStornChaser. "Am I the father?" He asked her, standing from where he had been waiting for her inside the entrance hall of her estate, reminiscent of the night the child may very well have been conceived.Marian merely stared at him evenly for a few moments. "You should go home, Fenris."

“What If.” by RaddishRodya. Hawke and Fenris have a discussion about what would happen if they had children. Also, Fenris learns how to play dictionary tag.

“Hesitations” by wiltedartist. Dehlian Hawke knows one thing and thing only: She has no idea as to how she will inform Fenris he will be a father. Sequel “The Empty Thirst.” How strange, he realized to himself, that he never knew just how much he needed one thing. Control. Fenris!F!Hawke, pregnant sex and dominant Fenris

“Mama Bird” by sparkyarcher. Elia comes home to a suspiciously quiet estate. Adorableness ensues.

“Another Heart” by aryadeschain.One sleepless night turned out to present Fenris a pleasant surprise.

“For What it’s Worth” by Nyessa. Years after Isabela runs away from Kirkwall with the Tome of Koslun, Imogen Hawke catches up to her in Denerim to settle some unfinished business.

“Dragon Age Prompts” by Jawbones. Chap. 4 “Lullaby” "The way you said 'I love you': Not said to me" Might be more in series.

“A Hawkling Tale.” by Sportsoma. Hawke surely does, and there's a little memento in case she wants to forget. However, being a mage and fearing the Chantry will take her expected bundle of joy, Hawke flees Kirkwall. Also a series sharing same name.

“Under the Skin.” by Lavender_Seaglass. After all that she's been through, Hawke doesn't plan on going anywhere else, let alone leaving him behind. This is, however, not something she's sure how to face. Doing things is easy; it's the regrets that kill you.

“Unplanned Consequences.” by Dragondreads. When Hawke finds herself in the awkward position of being pregnant after the only night of passion she found with Fenris, she turns to her friend Varric for help

“Sweet Vermouth” by AngelicSentinel. Fenris would do anything for Hawke—Even conquer the Fade itself.

“I remain at your side.” by Lourdes23. When Kirkwall fell so did its Champion. Changed by betrayal, hunted and outcast, Hawke must find the strength to rise up once more in defense of a world gone mad. Yet humans can only withstand so much before desperation drives them beyond reason. When she's at her breaking point, and the weight of her duties seems too much to bear, who will stand with her and share the burden?Who will champion the Champion?

“New Beginnings.” by Jessica Pendragon. He has dealt in death for so long and now only wants to hold life in his hands.

“Find Your Own Way Back Home.” by locketofyourhair. These books are slim, without names on the covers, and when he opens one, he can see that some of the pages are blank. Others are covered with small handwriting that he knows well, and it feels like a blow to see it again. They are journals; they are Hawke’s journals.He reads them as he finds himself adrift without her.

“Of Sausages and Surprises.” by RedIn. It was one of those evenings when her mother tried to make a noble fragile flower of her. She invited Comtesse Berauear and her two cocky daughters; Lizzeta and Pavetta. It was meant to be a boring, annoying evening or so Hawke thought.Sandal was the last person who she thought would interrupt the boredom of their well-mannered Hightown style party.

“Foxes on the Run” by ms45. Hawke gives birth whilst on the run from the Chantry.

“Milk” by Persephone. Hawke/LI - Lactating. Smut.

“Only You.” by kellbelle. This is a story of Hawke fleeing Kirkwall alone, having never romanced anyone and believing the man she loves could never love her back.

“Isabela and the Dread Pirate Captain Hook” by Dakoyone. Isabela tells a story from her grand pirating adventure days to the littlest Hawkes. No actual mention of Fenris but all her other stories are Fenhawke and there is a father so...

“That Which is Lost” by Niamh_St_George. A decade after the events in Kirkwall, Amelle Hawke and Fenris have made a quiet life for themselves. But when their idyll is shattered, Fenris discovers that while men are dealt with easily enough, it is once again magic standing poised to take everything away.

#fenhawke #fenfemhawke #fenhawke fic list #fenhawke fic rec #fenhawke kidfic #papa!fenris #mama!hawke #dragon age 2 #dragon age 2 fan fic #fenfemhawke fic rec

27 notes · View notes

fangirlf · 7 years ago

Text

Prompt #16 Chuck Shurley

A/N: sorry that this is absolute garbage but yeah here’s the first fic I’ve written in two years

Pairing: Chuck/Reader

Request: Prompt #16 with Chuck

Word Count: 2215

When you first met Chuck, the prophet of the lord as he once had called himself, you felt something. You felt something for the alcoholic author, even within the first seconds of meeting him, and it scared you. Emotions weren’t really your strong suit. Of course you had them, but you did your damnest to hide them from anyone near you. You had too many emotions, and you knew how easily you could be manipulated if enemies were to find out. So, your primary instinct was to block the prophet out, ignore him until it became rude. Of course, you’d answer his questions and reply when he wanted to talk, but you always kept your responses short and sweet. You knew he had a thing for you, a soft spot even, and that just made it worse.

It was easier for you to block people out when they didn’t like you to begin with, but you couldn’t deny Fate’s pull between you and Chuck. The night you met was one of the worse nights in your life, mainly because it was the best. You knew what love did to hunters, and of course to those they loved. He was already dealing with throbbing headaches and visions of the world’s end, being a target for literally every monster you’ve come in contact with didn’t seem like a positive addition to his life.

But, Fate’s a bitch and apparently had it out for you. Almost every other case had you meeting up with Chuck, whether it be in New York or California. Your paths would cross quite frequently, much to your dismay. You had even started dreaming about him, nothing too spicy, your dreams mainly consisted of the two of you talking over coffee or brunch. You never remembered the conversations when you awoke in the morning, but it always left you feeling warm, the image of his crystal blue eyes looking kindly into yours as if you were baring your soul for him, branded permanently in your mind’s eye.

Chuck wasn’t an idiot, you knew that. You also knew that he had caught onto what you were doing, why you elected to ignore him. Did that make you stop? No. Of course, you really wanted to. If you hadn’t been brought into this life, maybe you would have explored the relationship, welcomed the sparks that caused your stomach to do backflips with open arms. But, woe is you, as that was not the case.

You were currently at a Supernatural convention, tricked into attending by Becky sending a fake red alert text to Dean through Chuck’s phone. You vaguely wondered how she got her hands on his phone, but quickly let the thought slip past your mind. There was no need to feel jealous over somebody you weren’t even going to chase after. Still, you felt a small twinge of dislike for the girl, and you weren’t too disappointed when she shifted her focus on Sam once more.

“You’re kidding me- there are people who actually want to be us?” Dean asks in his usual, overly-dramatic tone.

“Hey, I’m just as surprised as you are,” Chuck defends himself before a man walks up to him and says “5 minutes Mr. Edlund” before walking off. Chuck gives the three of you an apologetic look before turning around and making his way to the stage for Q and A, which, of course, went as well as you would expect. You weren’t sure how he was able to stay up on that stage without a bathroom break with as much water as he had been chugging. You definitely did not want to switch places with him, you’d be as nervous a wreck as he was.

And, now, he needed to be up there longer than he expected as the three of you found an actual case amidst the conventions ‘hunt’, and guess who got to go tell him while the other two went to collect the others? You, of course. Inwardly groaning, you walked up to the stage, Chuck’s eyes immediately falling onto you, curiosity evident in his expression but a delighted grin on his face nonetheless. You bit down the warm sensation you felt in your pit as you motioned for him to come closer.

“We have a problem,” you whispered hurriedly in his ear. His brows furrowed at your tone.

“What? What is it?” he asked, making sure to speak away from the mic.

“Turns out there’s an actual case here. You need to keep everyone in here until we give you the all clear,” you say, trying not to eye the audience that was completely silent, curious as to what you were talking about. God, you hated crowds.

“I-I have to be up here longer? Yeah, sure, no sweat,” he said, obviously not believing himself. You gave him an apologetic smile.

“Good luck,” you pat his shoulder and hopped off the stage.

“(y/n), wait!” he whisper-yelled. You turned back to him, standing in front of the first row of the audience. He gave you a desperate look, one he would always give you when you had to go back to hunting. You inhaled slowly and responded in a whisper that only he could hear.

“Look, I have to go do this, Chuck. So unless you have anything to tell me about the thing we’re dealing with, save it.”

You knew you were being rude, but the only other option would be to fall into the old lover’s quarrel over whether or not you should be doing something dangerous that could help others. So, biting back an “I’m sorry,” you turned on your heel and made your way back to the brothers.

The rest of the night wasn’t so bad, compared to other cases you’d been on. The three of you were able to burn the remains of the three boys, with help from two LARPing convention-goers. With the dangers lifted, everyone started making their way out of the hotel. Dean was talking with the fake Dean and Sam that burned the boys’ bones, while Sam was stuck listening to Becky gush over him. You were making your way back to the impala, wanting to get out of there, when you saw Chuck walking in your direction. You picked up your pace, not wanting to have to shield your emotions for much longer. It wasn’t everyday that you spent an entire day with the man you were almost certain was your soulmate, only to have to cram those feelings back inside yourself. You needed a break.

“(Y/n), stop, please!”

You sighed, knowing that he knew you heard him say your name and not having the heart to ignore him. You stopped in your tracks, waiting for him to catch up to you. When he did, you kept your eyes to the ground. He was silent for awhile, all you heard from him was breathing. It took you a minute to realize that he wanted you to look at him, which turned out to be a bad idea. His ocean blue eyes held so many emotions in them as they stared into yours. You faintly remembered the first time you locked eyes, feeling like you could get lost in them for days on end, with no regard for the world around you. That was almost always what it was like, staring into his eyes. You felt like the world melted away around you, leaving nothing but you and Chuck, together. Of course, this feeling scared you from the beginning. Getting lost in something, even if it’s the eyes of the person you loved, wasn’t the smartest thing to do when you’re a hunter.

Chuck gently held your hands in his, breaking you from your thoughts. “(y/n), don’t you see? The harder you push me away, the more I want to know you.”

You looked away, opting to stare at the trees surrounding the hotel’s parking lot, processing what he said. Though simple those words are separately, they almost brought tears to your eyes.

“Chuck,” you say, your voice nearly inaudible, tears threatening to spill. You cursed inwardly, knowing that this would happen sooner or later. See, you were great at bottling things up, but you weren’t so good at keeping those things from exploding.

He squeezed your hands gently, causing you to meet his eyes once more. “How long are you going to fight this, to fight me?” he asks, his voice cracking. “You know there’s something here.”

“Chuck, I can’t. You know the life I live, I can’t have all the bad guys coming after you, using you as leverage.”

“(y/n), I’m protected by an archangel, I don’t think they’d let anything happen to me.”

“Yeah well, angels are dicks. Yeah, they need you alive, but they don’t care if you’re hurt, or if you’re tortured to death. They’ll just bring you back,” you shake your head, adding a “Maybe,” at the end.

“So what? Is that any different than what you and the Winchesters go through? Trust me when I say, I can handle myself,” he reassures you, and for a moment, the insecure, paranoid prophet you knew was gone and replaced by someone more… confident, someone who you would relate with the phrase ‘old and wise’. You weren’t exactly sure why, but you believed him when he said he could handle himself, even if he wasn’t a hunter.

“Are you sure about that?” you asked, although you already knew the answer, and by the expression on Chuck’s face, he knew that you did.

“Look, all I’m asking for is a chance,” his eyes search yours desperately, hands holding yours as if you’d let go at any moment. You knew you should have tore your gaze from his, but you couldn’t deny the bond between the two of you. You wanted nothing more than to be with him, have an ‘apple pie life’ as Sam once called it, but no one really gets out of the life. Shit catches up to you when you settle down, hitting you when you least expect it. With all this information, the logical choice would be to turn on your heel and run, never looking back.

You sighed, for what seemed like the umpteenth time today, and gave his hands a squeeze. You thought about being logical but figured, screw it, when has being logical ever worked out in your favor? Maybe half the time, maybe more. You’d take your chances.

Instead of giving him a verbal response - something you were not so great at when it came to emotions - you tugged his hands, pulling him closer to you before pressing your lips against his in a gentle, sweet kiss. His arms immediately found their way to your waist, pulling your body flush against his as he deepened the kiss, surprising you a little seeing as Chuck wasn’t very pro-risk.

You faintly heard whooping near you, although you weren’t quite where it came from when the fact hit you that you were still in public, the center of attention for the rest of the convention-goers who hadn’t left as soon as the doors were open. You had the decency to pull away, your cheeks tinted with the lightest shade of pink. Chuck smiled at you, a genuinely happy expression on his face for once, and you couldn’t deny being just a little bit proud of being the person who caused it.

“So I-I take it that’s a yes?” he asks, eyes seeming a shade lighter than before.

“No, I just wanted to kiss you before I inevitably run away and don’t come back,” you reply like the smartass you are. You could tell by his expression that he wasn’t completely sure if you were joking or not. You roll your eyes, playfully hitting his shoulder. “Of course it’s a yes.”

“Fuckin’ finally,” You heard Dean curse behind you. You shook your head, a small smile on your lips, and as you looked at the prophet, you knew things would be okay. Of course, there would be pain and suffering like always, but things would be… relatively okay. You hadn’t realized it, but you had been carrying so much anxiety and fear with you - about hunting, about your emotions, everything - and when you finally let him in, you felt as if your fears had been washed clean, like a blank slate.

You’ve heard stories of people meeting their so-called ‘soulmates’, and how the feeling was like being reset, giving you a blank slate to work with once more and allowing you to learn from your past mistakes and not hold guilt for the things you couldn’t control. You’d never really believed the whole ‘soulmate’ thing, it’d seemed too far fetched for your taste. Only having one person to truly be yours, falling for them before even getting to know them, that didn’t seem likely. But, as you stood here, in Chuck’s embrace, staring up into his kind eyes, you started to think that maybe the idea of a ‘soulmate’ wasn’t so bad. That maybe, just maybe, Chuck was your soulmate and you were his.

The small smile that rested on your face turned into a grin.

I’d be okay with that, you told yourself.

And Chuck agreed.

#supernatural #chuck shurley x reader #chuck shurley #chuck x reader spn #spn #spn x reader #supernatural x reader #spn imagine #imagine #chuck imagine #chuck shurley imagine #chuck/reader #chuck shurley/reader #chuck/reader spn #carver edlund #angst #fluff #soulmate

214 notes · View notes

embracetheapocalypsewithme · 7 years ago

Text

Bedtime Stories

This is the first of two prompts I picked for @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash‘s third writing challenge! The prompt for this one is “Caught Reading Fanfiction”...oooh! Scandal!

Summary: Sandra (aka. Mouse) is a timid, quiet woman who spends her days fantasizing about fucking Negan’s brains out. She discovers a group of other women living in the Sanctuary who feel the same way, and they collectively begin to write smutty, fictional stories featuring their sexy leader. But what happens when he catches her reading one? Will he let it go, or find some way to punish her for writing about him?

Word Count: 3,688

Warnings: Smut, smut and more smut! Swearing (of course), finger fucking, oral sex, hand jobs, and cum!

This is very loosely tied to another short fic I wrote called The Girl Named Mouse, but you do not have to have read that to enjoy this at all. The installment is a million times smuttier than the previous one. Enjoy!

Bedtime Stories

Sandra could feel his warm, rough hands gliding across the silk of her bare skin, from ass to neck. Slowly, gradually gaining territory as his fingers crept closer to their target: the long, dark hair that spilled over her shoulders.

A sudden burst of fire shuddered down her spine as he grabbed a handful near the base of her scalp, pulling her head back and up toward him gently but firmly. Negan’s hot breath puffed against her cheek as he leaned closer to whisper roughly in her ear:

“How d’ya do, Mouse-y Poo!?”

Sandra’s heart leapt instantaneously at the sound of Negan’s low, gravelly voice coming from right beside her. Her whole body shook with adrenaline as she quickly slammed the black notebook she held in her small hands shut quickly, hoping that he hadn’t caught her this time.

“I-um…N-nothing!” she stammered, jumping up from her place on the overstuffed easy chair which sat in the corner of the Sanctuary’s vacant common room.

It was before 10am on a weekend, so most of the building’s inhabitants were either sleeping or eating, leaving Sandra with the perfect opportunity to catch up on reading some smutty fan fiction in her favourite spot. She knew it was reckless to read literal erotica about the man who ran the whole bloody building in a place where she could easily be spotted by him or his Saviors, but she had assumed that he would be sleeping off another long night with his harem of wives.

Sandra, who was otherwise known as Mouse around the Sanctuary for her shy and nervous demeanor, had been part of Negan’s group since before he was even a part of it, so to speak. She had joined up with Dwight and Sherry around the time the world had gone to pieces and had survived alongside them until they had found Negan in the woods, wandering alone. Eventually she, along with the other group members, had agreed to follow Negan on a path that had led them all to the gates of the Sanctuary, and their current circumstances.

“Doesn’t look like fucking nothing, Mouse,” Negan replied as his eyes narrowed in on hers, “Looks really fucking interesting, in fact…”

He reached forward to grab for the book, but Sandra thwarted his plans by swinging it out of his reach and stepping away quickly until her back hit the wall behind her.

“It really n-nothing, Negan,” her eyes instinctively flitted down to stare at his heavy, black boots as they took a step toward her, “It’s just a stupid story.”

“Well, fuck! I like stories! I’ve read pretty much every fucking thing in my library twice already. Let me see, will ya! It’s too early to bone any of the wives yet and I’m bored as fuck…they’re all still sleeping. Fucking lazy asses, right?”

Sandra’s grip on the book tightened and she silently shook her head “no”. There were more than a few women in the Sanctuary who had contributed to the stories in the book, including herself, and they would all be furious if they knew that Negan had found out about it. The book in question held approximately twenty short stories within its pages; most of which were erotic in nature, and all of them featuring the Sanctuary’s fearless leader himself: Negan.

It had all started as a joke, mostly. One of the other female workers (Sandra couldn’t exactly remember which one) had made a comment about wanting to “Climb Negan like a mountain” one night in the cafeteria while they waited for the food to be served. A few people had overheard her comment, and somehow the ensuing conversation had snowballed into a group of roughly five of the building’s women cracking jokes about what they would do to their resident crude, murderous giant if they had the nerve to approach him. They called themselves “Negan’s Cock Fan Club” just to be crass. Sandra thought that Negan probably would have enjoyed that namesake, if he had known about it.

She had been too shy to participate at first, but as the months wore on and the pages of the book filled with an unimaginable amount of fictional encounters with the man, her curiosity had gotten the best of her. She started by just reading a few of the entries that the others had written, all under pen names of course, and had quickly been sucked into the imaginary bacchanalian world of constant sex and mischief with a man she had fantasized about so many times alone. Knowing that other women felt the same way she did made her feel a little bit less crazy.

It wasn’t long before she began to add her own stories to the collection, sending them out to the “Fan Club” to be read and enjoyed by what she had come to think of as Negan’s second-string harem. She felt proud to be part of an assemblage of “wives” that he had no idea existed. This sexy, little secret that she shared with the others brought a smile to her face, though she still had moments of bitter regret for having turned him down once upon a time when he had propositioned her in a hotel hallway. But that had been before the Sanctuary and the harem, when they had just been a group of survivors huddled together, trying to stay safe.

“Hey!” Negan’s expression softened into feigned hurt as Sandra shrank away from him, pressing her body against the wall, “Don’t act like I’m some big, fucking monster, Mouse. You know I’d never hurt you, right?”

“Yes,” she said softly, still staring down in embarrassment, “I know.”

“Good. But you also know that I could make your life very fucking unpleasant if you don’t hand over the book, don’t you?”

“I…just can’t. It’s not only mine. There are other people who would be really upset.”

“What? You guys fucking plotting a mutiny or something?” his voice lost its jovial edge with stunning rapidity and Sandra felt her stomach clench in fear.

“No!” her eyes shot up to meet his in terror, “Of course not! Never!”

She wanted to melt into the floor or flee back to the safety of her room, but she felt trapped in the corner of the small room, sinking into the quicksand of his gaze with her heart in her throat. His face had gone from the usual genial expression he always used with her to a mask of cold nothingness.

“Prove it,” he said simply and extended a gloved hand toward her palm up.

Sandra sighed deeply, slowly bringing the book out from behind her and depositing it into the outstretched hand. The other girls would never forgive her for letting him see the book, but it wasn’t as if she had a choice. If he thought that she was part of some kind of coup d’état, he would kill her for sure, in spite of his earlier assurances.

Time seemed to creep as he opened the book to the first page and began to read what was written there. After several seconds of watching his eyes dart from left to right, Mouse saw his face contort into a confused expression.

“What the actual fuckity fuck is this?” he said slowly, dragging out the vowels of actual dramatically as his eyes lifted to meet hers, “Is this fucking porn about me?”

“I…It’s…I didn’t write that one!”

“But you were fucking reading it, weren’t you Mousey? You fucking jill off to this? Thinking about me?”

Though he still looked very solidly weirded out by his discovery, Sandra thought that she detected a hint of curiosity in his voice. Sighing deeply she thought of how she should answer.

“It’s just for fun, you know. It’s…like…a release. It’s something fun and, um, creative I guess. And other people write them too!”

“Other people?”

“A few of us…”

“How fucking many?”

“I-I don’t know. I think we’re up to eight now.”

“Fucking eight?” Negan let out a brief chuckle, “Well, hot damn! That’s a whole lot of panties I’ve gotten wet without even knowing it!”

Sandra’s face immediately flushed red with embarrassment at his exclamation, and her gaze fell back to the floor.

“You fucking do touch yourself to this, don’t you?” Negan persisted, unwilling to let the topic drop, “Its ok, Mouse. You can tell me. Truth be told, I’ve spanked it more than once to the thought of you riding my cock off into the sunset. What do you think of that?”

Sandra shook her head from side to side, at a total loss for words. She felt as though her head was about to explode from the embarrassment that was written all over her face.

“Awe, Mousey, don’t be shy now,” he reached out a single gloved finger, touching it to her chin and gently guiding her gaze back up to meet his, “I won’t tell anyone. Not even my dear, sweet wives upstairs. Hell, those chicks don’t write fucking odes to my cock, that’s for damn sure! I’m honestly fucking flattered.”

“Th-thank you, Negan,” she stammered, her eyes flitting around his face.

“But you know I can’t just let you get away with writing this kind of smut without some kind of retribution,” he said, his tone lowering and his eyes taking on a predatory gleam.

“What do you mean?”

Without answering her, Negan turned around and strode confidently to the room’s door, first shutting it and then locking it from the inside with a dull click, “You’re gonna read me a little story, Mousey. One of your stories.”

“No! Negan, please!” she cried out, raising her voice to him for the first time she could remember.

“Mousey, Mouse, Mouse…” he said with an amused grin, “So you do have a voice! Good!” he tossed the book at her suddenly and she fumbled with it, finally getting a grip on the hard cover before it fell to the ground.

“I can’t-“

“No. Read,” he commanded before flopping into the armchair she had previously occupied, “One of yours too. I wanna see what’s in that filthy fucking head of yours.”

Sandra clamped her eyes shut for a moment before opening the book to search for one of her stories. Her mouth had gone dry and she swallowed hard before preparing to read to him. As she opened her mouth to speak, Negan cut her off.

“Wait! Not up there.”

“Huh?”

He patted his thigh and gave her a lecherous grin, “Come sit on my lap while you read to me, sweetheart.”

The temperature in the room seemed to rise instantly at his words, and she had begun to tremble with anxiety, but Sandra did has he commanded. She walked toward the chair as if in a trance, and gently lowered herself onto his left thigh. Her entire body was rigid with fear, causing her to practically hover over him in an unnatural way.

“Hey,” his voice was soft and warm, almost soothing, in her ear “Calm down. You’re not really in trouble, Mouse. I’m just playing around. If you want to stop, we can fucking stop. Just say the word.”

She considered escape for a moment, envisioning herself standing up and running out of the room with the book in her hands, leaving him alone in the chair with that smarmy grin on his face. But she remembered the regret she felt the last time she had turned him down, and the gnawing need for him that had taken up residence in the pit of her stomach, growing stronger every day.

She wanted him. She was tired of being a scared, little mouse.

“Sandra,” she said firmly, “My name is Sandra. Please stop calling me ‘Mouse’.”

Negan inhaled sharply beneath her, evidently taken by surprise at her talking back to him, and for a moment she feared that he would be offended by the correction, but she felt his body quake slightly with a chuckle, “Well, oh-fucking-kay then, Sandra. Why don’t you read that story to me, Sandra?”

A faint smile played on her lips and she relaxed back into him slightly as she brought the book up in front of her face, “Ok. I’ll start.”

Her lips felt sticky and too thick as she began the tale, which was a smutty little number about fucking him in the commissary after closing time, but soon the words dripped smoothly from her mouth like honey:

“’Negan pushed you roughly against the counter, his lips crashing into yours, and the scent of his leather jacket invading your nostrils. It wasn’t long until he had removed your shirt and bra, before burying his face in your tits, nipping and licking at the tender skin,’” she read aloud.

Sandra felt Negan’s weight shift under her in the chair, and at first she thought that she must be making him uncomfortable after all, but as she continued to read she felt a very distinct bulge press against her from below. She wasn’t making him uncomfortable; she was making him hard.

“’You stood over him, relishing the sight of Negan on his knees in front of you, before bending down and helping him to remove the tight, white t-shirt he wore from his chest and tossing it aside-“ the words were cut off by more movement behind her, this time a little more vigorous.

She watched in amazement as one of his muscular arms came out from behind her. The white t-shirt he had been wearing was clutched in his hand. After he seemed sure that she had noticed what he was doing, he let the garment drop to the floor without saying a word. Sandra turned around in confusion and was met with those deep, brown eyes staring back at her intently.

“What-“ she began.

“Just trying to add some motherfucking realism to the situation,” he replied simply, “Continue, Mou- Oh! Fuck! I mean, Sandra.”

“’Negan reached up and ran his calloused hands over your arms until he reached your shoulders and then allowed his fingers to trail across your chest before gently grabbing one of your hardened nipples between his thumb and forefinger.’”

To her amazement, Sandra felt a very real hand, which was surprisingly not at all calloused, trail up her arm before coming to rest at the strap of the tank top she wore. In one surprisingly graceful motion, Negan flicked the strap off of her shoulder.

“Mind if I take this off?” he asked. She could hear that is voice had become slightly breathy with arousal, “You know. For realism.”

“Ok. Sure. Yeah!” she could hardly conceal her excitement, and without even thinking about it, she pulled the top off, tossing it aside.

“Fuck yeah! That-a-girl, Mousey!” he cried, “Oh shit! Fuck! Sorry! Sandra, Sandra, Sandra!"

"You’re starting to get it!”

“Yeah, I’m a little thick sometimes. Heh. In more ways than one,” he punctuated his last point with a pelvic thrust that caused his erection to dig into her leg.

Without fully realizing it, Sandra emitted a slight moan.

“You like that, Sandra?” he asked before grabbing one of her breasts in his hand and squeezing it tentatively, “Mmmm. That’s really fucking nice. Fucking A-plus titties! Hey! You feel like doing a little multi-tasking?”

“What do you mean?” she asked.

Instead of answering verbally, Negan shifted in his seat again and Sandra heard the unmistakable sound of him unzipping his pants. A moment later one of his hands found its way to her unoccupied extremity and guided it back to touch the soft skin of his extremely hard cock.

Sandra gasped as a flood of arousal took hold of her, causing her thighs to clench around Negan’s leg. She squirmed in his lap and tightened her grip on his hardened member, feeling a bead of precum drip onto her hand.

“Oh fuck! Christ yes! Stroke me a bit while you read, baby.”

Sandra did as she was told, maintaining a tight grip around him while she slowly glided her hand up and down his shaft. He hadn’t exaggerated about being thick earlier; her small hand could close around the girth of his cock, but only barely. As she touched him, her eyes re-focused on the words that danced across the notebook’s pages.

“Where was I? Oh! Right: ‘His hands continued to tour your body hungrily, as if he needed to touch every inch of you to claim you as his own.”

As she read, Sandra felt Negan’s hot breath on the back of her neck. His lips trailed against the tender skin of her pulse, sending a shiver through her body. Her voice faltered for a moment as his hands made their way to her hips and his fingers began to play with the waistband of the pants she wore, but she soon regained her composure.

“’H-he…um…he suddenly jerked your skirt down to the floor, taking your panties along with it, and pushed you back against the wall, causing your pussy to move forward and open to him, granting him access to you.’”

In reality, Negan had made his way to the button which held Sandra’s pants closed and popped it open with his thumb. His fingers dipped below the loosened fabric and softly grazed her cotton underwear, tracing the outline of her slit, and causing her to gasp sharply at another shudder of pleasure.

“Please don’t stop,” she whimpered.

“It doesn’t say that on the page…”

“Please, Negan!”

“Keep reading and I’ll keep going,” he teased.

“Ok,” she sighed in annoyance, “‘Negan buried his face into your folds, teasing you open and probing around with his tongue. First taking small, exploratory licks before lapping up your juices and swirling his tongue around your clit expertly.’”

“Fucking shit, you’re good with your hands, and your stories are fucking filthy,” he moaned, craning his head back against the chair.

Sandra continued to stroke his cock while she read, increasing her pace as the lust overtook her. Negan wasted no time in fulfilling his promise to her by roughly pushing aside the panties she wore and burying two fingers deep inside of her. The sensation of fullness was immediate and extreme, and Sandra ground against him with a deep moan.

“Oh god! ‘He-he continued to lick you into ecstasy, sucking your clit into his lips as his hands grabbed your hips, pulling you closer to him and…and m-maneuvering you just the way he wanted you.’”

With every other word she read aloud, Negan rammed his fingers firmly inside of her, pounding her G-spot and causing rushes of the most wonderful sensations to course through her limbs. It was becoming difficult to focus on the story, and even harder to speak, but she tried to soldier on whilst milking his cock with a fluid motion that made Negan’s breath hitch in his chest.

“Fuck! Christ, Sandra! You’re gonna have me make a mess all over this chair soon,” he practically growled at her and she could feel the muscles in his thighs tensing below her ass.

As if to punish her in a very backwards way, Negan pressed his thumb firmly against her clit and began to circle it, using the wet arousal that had flowed from her opening and covered his fingers as lube. Sandra let out a sharp scream of pleasure, which was muffled by a large hand over her mouth.

“Shhh! Fucking quiet down! Don’t want anyone walking in on us, do you? Now finish the story so I can finish on you.”

“Oh my god! Please don’t stop! I’m so close!”

“Keep reading…” he warned sternly, with a desperate edge to his tone.

“’Negan’s face glistened with your sweet h-honey as you ground against his lips, using his mouth to get you off. Legs trembling, you came hard and f-f-fast…’ Oh fuck yes! Right there, Negan!” she lost herself for a moment, nearly following the story’s timing into the heights of orgasm, but quickly regained control, “’…with…with an earth shattering rapidity that threatened to send you tumbling to the ground. But he caught you and held you…in…in place as you were undone by the roaring bliss filling your-‘“

Sandra’s words were cut off by low guttural moaning from behind her as she continued to pump Negan’s cock steadily. Seconds later her hand was covered in his warm cum. She could feel it land all over her arm and left thigh, dripping thickly to the chair’s upholstery. Looking down, she enjoyed watching the evidence of his lust for her gleaming in the light and snaking across her flesh.

As he came, his fingers curled deep inside of her while his thumb began to work her clit in double time. This, combined with the knowledge that she had brought him to orgasm with just the combination of her words and hand, caused Sandra to careen over the precipice of orgasm. Her breath puffed out in tight jolts ecstasy as her head strained back and into the crook of his shoulder. She could feel him still breathing heavily from behind as he held her through the spasms until she could control her muscles again.

“Sweet fuckity God damn! That was a fucking work of art, my dear!” his voice sounded dazed an heavy, and Sandra could feel the muscles in his legs relax into the chair’s cushions.

“Well, thank you!” she said earnestly, standing on still-shaking legs and buttoning her pants.

“You got a lot more of those floating around in that book of yours?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah. A few, I suppose.”

“Well, rest up! Because I think I just might need someone to come read me a fucking bedtime story tonight if you get where I’m going with this,” he paused for a moment, “That is to say, I wanna fuck that sweet little pussy of yours tonight, if you’ll let me.”

“Yes, Negan. I had gathered that much.”

“You always were a fucking smarty pants, MousssSandra!” he slurred her nickname and real names together in an attempt to cover up his mistake, “Shit! I’m getting better at least.”

“Yeah. I think I am too.”

#ash’s round 3 negan challenge #comicnegan>#negan's thirst squad #negan fanfiction #twd fanfiction

161 notes · View notes

prophetparadox · 7 years ago

Text

Birds of a Feather Chapter 16: Rising Tensions (A Prompto x OC Soulmate AU)

Chapter 15 <-/AO3/-> Chapter 17

Masterlist

Word count: 2,958

Okay, first off I want to apologize for how long this took. I don’t want to talk about it too much, but I got unexpectedly caught in a situation that kept me from using my computer for three days which lead to the delay of this chapter. It won’t happen again though, and updates on this fic will return to normal.

So here we have the fight, you all know the one I’m talking about. I did my best with this, but even now I’m still worried that I messed up with Gladio. Hopefully I didn’t. I was going to end the chapter off on the second part, but I wanted to at least acknowledge the mine and I didn’t want to end and start two chapters on the train. Because I’m sure you all know what’s happening next. The pain is gonna be real.

Tagging: @themissimmortal, @cupnoodle-queen, @nifwrites, @takuahijackedthetardis, @lunarlapin, and @mini-moogle-queen. Ask if you want to be tagged in future updates.

Neither of them would've thought that things could be more awkward than they were weeks ago, but things don't always turn out as expected.

The five of them were situated in a train, the ultimate goal being to retrieve the crystal in Niflheim, but instead of the camraderie Katia had gotten used to while traveling there was only silence. She couldn't blame them, Altissia had changed their situation greatly. But the silence felt deafening. On top of Ignis' new disability, Noctis was clearly distraught over Lunafreya, and Gladio, well, he just had this permanent scowl on his face that made it hard to even think of approaching him. He was so hard to read at times, and the last thing she wanted was to piss him off by accident.

She looked over at Noctis, who was sitting alone and staring at his hands. She didn't even need to guess what was running through his head, she could already tell. She knew Noctis was close with Lunafreya, he'd always get this sweet smile on his face when Umbra showed up or when he talked about her. He'd also been happy with the idea of getting married to her, so something had to have been there. She had no idea if they were soulmates or not, the thought of asking him just seemed rude in her mind, but she couldn't help but wonder if that had something to do with how broken he looked. She'd heard the stories, of how when your soulmate dies you feel like part of you is gone and how the pain is so severe, but with everything that he'd already lost, this could've been the breaking point for him. She didn't know, and probably never would.

Finally, there was Ignis. She looked at the adviser in the seat across from her, Prompto sitting next to him to make sure he was okay. He was another hard nut to crack. The man kept his emotions locked up. If he was upset, in pain, angry, sad, there was no way of telling. But he had to be suffering inside, loosing his eyesight wasn't the only problem he'd dealt with recently. But he wouldn't talk about it, no way.

Unable to stand the silence, Katia glanced towards Prompto, hoping he would say something. He tried to think, the situation was already tense and he didn't want to make things any worse. "So...we're gonna roll through Tenebrae." he said.

"Not before visiting the royal tomb in Cartanica." Ignis pointed out. Katia had almost forgotten about collecting the Royal Arms. Even though they'd grabbed the ones in Lucis, so much had happened that it managed to slip her mind. They did have a job to do, and that was the next stop. Hopefully nothing else would go wrong while they were there.

A worry crossed her mind. "You sure you're up for that, Iggy?" she asked. The last thing she wanted to do was treat him like an invalid or something like that, but she knew that his condition wasn't going to make things easier for him.

There was a brief silence, as if he was thinking over something. "The wounds have mended. Eyesight's a matter of time." His words were intended to be optimistic, but the tone of his voice betrayed that intent. It was clear that he didn't know if his eyesight would return, but he didn't want to be a burden. She couldn't tell if he was saying that to reassure her or himself.

Gladio got up from his seat behind Ignis and Prompto, walking over to Noctis. "The hell is wrong with you?" he asked, venom dripping from his words. Wherever this was going, it wouldn't end well.

"What?" Noctis asked, slowly raising his head to look at his shield. His own tone wasn't friendly either.

"We're not stopping in Tenebrae. You need to grow up and get over it." Oh no, this definitely wouldn't end well.

"I am over it. I'm here, aren't I?" Noctis stood up from his seat, only to have his shirt collar be grabbed by Gladio.

"Maybe when you're not too busy moping, you can look around and give a shit about someone worse off than you."

Prompto and Katia looked over at each other, both of them in shock and uncertain of what to do. Should they stop it? How could they stop it? "Let go of me." Noctis said, not a demand by any means but it was clear he was not taking this.

"How's that ring fit ya? You'd rather carry it around than wear it?" Gladio asked as Noctis' scowl grew. "She gave her life so you could do your duty, not so you could sit around feeling sorry for yourself."

"You don't think I know that?!" His voice was turning into a yell, prompting Katia to stand up and prepare to step in if needed.

"You don't! Ignis took one for you too, and for what?!" Now they were both yelling. This had to be stopped, before either of them did something they'd regret.

"Enough, Gladio!" Ignis yelled from his seat.

"You think you're a king, but you're a coward."

"Shut up!" Noctis growled.

That seemed to be the breaking point for Prompto, as he stood up and reached for Gladio. "Don't do this-!" he tried to plea, but was pushed away by Gladio.

"Prompto!" Katia shouted, leaning down and helping her boyfriend back up. Now she was starting to get angry. There was no need to take this out on him, especially when he was just trying to help.

"I get it alright? I get it!" Noctis shoved Gladio away.

"Then get a grip! Pull your head outta your ass already!"

"Noctis! Gladiolus! Both of you cut it out!" Katia shouted as she got in between them, sounding like a mother scolding her children. She couldn't take this anymore and she'd be damned if she stood there and let it continue. "Both of you are making asses out of yourselves! You're causing a damn scene and people are starting to stare! I get that this whole thing is getting to us, but could you two calm down for two seconds or something?!"

Noctis said nothing, walking away from the group and heading to the back of the car.

"Noct!" Prompto called out, ready to follow after him.

"Leave him!" Gladio demanded, stopping Prompto in his tracks. Katia on the other hand couldn't give a damn about what he said and began walking in Noctis' direction. She was too angry to care. "I said, leave him!"

She stopped where she was, turning to face Gladio herself. "I'm sorry, but I'm concerned for my best friend here! And last time I checked, you don't tell me what to do anymore." She turned back to where Noctis had gone, but a strong grip took hold of her arm and pulled her back. Gladio held her arm up, keeping her from leaving.

"You're no better than he is," he said, his own anger now taking over. "Do you even know what's at stake here? Or have you and Prompto been too distracted making goo-goo eyes with each other to care?"

Oh, now he pushed it. "I know exactly what's at stake! It's because I do that I'm worried about what's going to happen! Me and Prom coming to terms with our feelings has changed nothing and you know that, you prick!"

Prompto could only stand aside and watch as pain coursed through his arm, knowing that Gladio was holding her too tight. Neither of them were acting rationally anymore. But he couldn't step in and stop it. He'd just get pushed away again. He just wanted everyone to stop fighting with each other.

"How can I be so sure about that?! For all I know, you running into us was no coincidence and you're just here to rat on us just like Eleiza was!"

Katia stopped. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ignis wince in his seat, his composure broken for just a second by the mention of the hunters name. This was too far. "You're a real piece of shit, you know that?" she asked. "You have the gall to not only accuse me of working for that monster, but also bring up Eleiza when you know how Ignis is feeling about her? What a fucking hypocrite, talking about caring for people worse off when you can't even consider how someone else might feel! If we weren't on a train full of civilians right now, I'd be kicking your ass for this!"

Gladio let go of her arm and shoved her aside. Prompto tried to go towards her, but the shield held him back. "Like you could pull that off," he said, looking down at her. "Maybe you should've stayed behind. You never belonged here in the first place."

Katia could feel the fire flowing through her. She turned around and stormed off, heading out of the train car. Gladio made his way to the other end of the car, leaving Ignis and Prompto there by themselves.

"Go to her, Prompto." Ignis said.

"But what about-"

"I'll be fine. I'm not planning on going anywhere. Katia on the other hand needs you more than anything."

Prompto knew he was right. He walked ahead to where Katia had ran off to, hoping that this could be fixed. They weren't supposed to be fighting with each other. Not now.

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

Katia slammed her fist against the wall, still feeling the anger from what Gladio had said. "Fuck!" she shouted, slumping down to the floor as she felt the train move. She probably shouldn't be sitting there, but she didn't even want to go back in there and there was nowhere else to go. The door opened, but she didn't bother looking up at who it was. It wasn't until she heard them sitting next to her and felt a hand moving across her back that she turned her head, seeing Prompto looking at her with worry. Aranea hadn't been exaggerating when she said he had a sad puppy look.

"You okay?" he asked.

Katia sighed, trying to calm herself down a little before saying anything. "Not really, I'm fucking pissed," she explained, her hands tightening into fists. "Gladio had no right to say those things. Not about you, me, or Eleiza."

"You know he didn't mean any of those things, right? He was just angry," He moved a loose strand of hair, tucking it behind her ear. "You belong with us, because you're our friend. And he knows we're not just staring at each other all the time."

"That doesn't make what he said right. And we both know just how he feels about Eleiza so he meant that. And the fact that he said it in front of Iggy like that..."

Prompto didn't know how to respond to that. He just looked at her arm, staring at the red skin were Gladio'd been holding her. "Is your arm okay?" Maybe changing the subject would help.

She looked at the red marking that'd been left behind. "Yeah, it's fine. A little sore, but it'll pass."

"That's good."

"...Look, I get where Gladio's coming from. Noct does still have a duty to uphold and he's not thinking completely rational right now. But he just lost Lady Lunafreya after trying to find her for so long. It's only natural he'd be upset. You don't just snap out of that so easily."

As Prompto tried to think about how to respond, the door opened again. The pair looked up and saw Noctis standing there. They'd forgotten he was sitting right near the door and probably heard everything that had happened before Katia ran in here. He didn't say anything, just looking down at the two of them. "Just making sure Kat's gonna be alright," Prompto explained. "Think she just needs a moment to relax." Noctis nodded his head before making his way back.

The two of them stayed silent for a while, Prompto rubbing circles into her palm. She leaned her head against him, hoping to find some peace. She began to wonder what Prompto was thinking. Even though she'd calmed down significantly, he still looked worried. Her question was answered before she could ask it as he finally spoke.

"The tomb is just a station away. You think we'll be okay--all of us?"

She didn't know how to answer that. Who knew how long Gladio and Noctis would stay mad at each other? The words that Gentiana had told her back in Altissia still had her concerned as well. "I hope so." she said.

"Something on your mind?"

"...Back in Altissia, Gentiana approached me. She was asking weird things and being all cryptic about it, but she said that you and me would go through some kind of hardships. She didn't say what, but it has me worried."

Prompto left a chaste kiss on her cheek, making an attempt to smile. "As long as we're not breaking up, I think we can handle it," he joked, making Katia laugh a little. "We've been through a lot already, what else could possibly happen?"

"But she said we needed to stick with each other, that we're each others beacon and we were brought together for a reason. I don't understand what she means by all that. It sounds like whatever's gonna happen to us is gonna suck big time."

"We'll get through it. We just gotta deal with this mess first."

"I guess so."

Prompto stood up, holding out his hand for her. "Let's head back to our seats. Ignis is probaly getting lonely. Whatever these hardships are, we'll figure it out when we get there."

Katia took his hand, allowing herself to be pulled up. She was tired of sitting on the ground like that. "I guess you're right. I'm just gonna avoid Gladio for now, I don't feel like fighting with him again." The two walked back to their seats, still troubled and worried. They might be okay, but everyone else was a different story.

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

The journey through the mines was tense, an air of hostility still surrounding Noctis and Gladio. Even though they didn't talk a lot, it was obvious they were still angry. Prompto and Katia had no idea what to do. In any normal situation they'd try to lighten things up with a joke, but no one was in a laughing mood. So they just stayed close to Ignis, helping him if he stumbled.

Not even setting up camp for the night was enough to ease things. Gladio didn't even sit by the fire. It all felt wrong. And the worst part is there was nothing they could do to fix things. Both Noctis and Gladio were stubborn, they weren't about to let this go. All they could do was wait.

"Hey Iggy, why don't you let me do the cooking tonight?" Katia asked.

His head turned up, trying his best to look in her direction. "I appreciate the sentiment, but you don't need to trouble yourself. I believe I can handle making cup noodles."

"Seriously Ignis, I want to help. Sitting here doing nothing is putting me on edge. Besides, you can always give me instructions. I'm nowhere near as good as you, but I think with you as my teacher I can handle things."

Ignis smiled. "You're a very caring individual. We still barely know each other and yet here you are, jumping up to help."

"I mean, I still consider us friends even if we aren't that close. And I don't like seeing any of my friends upset if I can help it."

"Is that what motivated you to fight Gladio?"

Katia winced. The last thing she wanted to think about was the things said back on the train. "About that, I'm sorry about what happened. I shouldn't have tried to egg him on like that."

"You need not apologize to me. There is nothing to apologize for."

"But what he said about-"

"I know very well how Gladio feels about that situation. It isn't new to me. What happened has happened, I simply need to move on from it."

"Trust me, you can't move on from something like that. I'm sure she had her reasons for doing what she did, and someday she'll tell them to you. Just hang in there, things'll get better. I just know it."

Ignis didn't respond, leaving Katia to worry about if she said something she shouldn't have. He stood up from his chair and took hold of his cane. "Don't worry about Noct and Gladio," he finally spoke. "They've always had trouble getting along with each other. If need be, I'll end this quarrel myself." He began to slowly walk away.

"Wait, Iggy! Let me help with the cooking!" Katia insisted. Ignis turned back to face her.

"I appreciate your concern, but I need to learn how to overcome this new setback of mine. I'd rather not hold anyone back. Now if you'll excuse me." And with that he walked away.

Katia sighed. Ignis was right, they couldn't be mad forever. But just how long would it last? Even with his words, she still wished she could do something. Anything would be better than what she was dealing with now. She looked over at Prompto, sadly looking through the pictures he'd taken today, feeling slightly happy that she had him here. At least she had someone she could talk to. Thinking over everything that had happened, she was lucky to have him. She didn't even want to think about what could've been. If anything were to happen to him, she wouldn't know what she'd do.

#Prompto #Prompto Argentum #Prompto x OC #Final Fantasy 15 #Final Fantasy XV #Prophet posts #Soulmate AU #Silver and Iron #Birds of a Feather

3 notes · View notes

thetaekooklibrary · 8 years ago

Note

Yo, i was wondering if you knew anything relatively new that's long and promising, I've run out of long fics, thanks!

well, I haven’t had time to read a lot of longs fic recently, so I’m not sure about the quality of all of these, but they are all long and the plots look interesting. some of these are WIPs, I hope that’s okay (I’ll list the completed ones first tho). I’ll keep it above 20k!

complete

起死回生; To Live Again by mindheist - Fiction gives us a second chance that life denies us.

(AMAZING BEAUTIFUL PERFECT READ IT IF YOU HAVEN’T ALREADY)

(thought you knew) you were in this song by expplipo - Taehyung nearly chokes, but only nearly. Instead he raises an eyebrow and puts on the most suave smile he can manage. Hopes he looks far more collected than his for-some-reason racing heartbeat would let on, more suit-and-wine than elementary-schooler-with-a-new-crush. “You like me?” Jeongguk blushes, and looks at his feet. He’s smiling. “Of course.” “Really?” Taehyung says. “Like? Or like like?” (So much for suit-and-wine.)

(so so good, but also sad)

I Won’t Fall (in love with you) by taeharem - “You have to promise not to fall in love with me.”

(this was published in august but completed in december, so it’s kinda recent? it’s really good tho, so you should definitely read it if you haven’t already)

you and me, we’re bumper cars by syugaflake - “The more I try to get to you, the more we crash apart.” After a myriad of mistakes committed in his leather jacket with a cigarette between his teeth, Jungkook finds himself exiled to his aunt’s house in a quiet, faraway town for the summer. Nothing much goes on at the neighbourhood; or so he thinks, until he meets a boy with sunset-coloured hair named Kim Taehyung.

(again, this was published in the summer but completed in december. it was really good!)

Hiraeth by haruguk - Jeongguk has learned the hard way from the tender age of thirteen when his father pushed him down the stairs, that people are a disappointment. They always will be and so he breaks hearts instead. Hurt people hurt people. Jeongguk likes hurting girls, but he doesn’t like hurting Kim Taehyung.

Swamp Magic by GinForInk - Two witches lure Jungkook into their cabin in the woods.

(I haven’t read this, but admin guk has and she really liked it, it’s also by the author who wrote Hercules and I loved that so I trust that this would be good too)

This Is Heaven, Give It To Me by seikou - Taehyung just might have signed his soul to the devil.

I know a land called the land of the living by Pardon - Jeongguk thought hearing ghosts was way worse than people made it out to be. All their jokes were terrible.

Take It With A Swallow by seikou - Perverted minds do think alike. (or, alternatively: the fuckboys!au)

Shifting On My Feet by MarionetteFtHJM - With the ever-growing crime rate in the city there’s no telling what the leading figures will do to remain leading. The safety of the people is at risk and the possible collateral damage looms over the authorities. There is only one safe option, sacrifice a few to save the lives of many. Tear them from the inside, cool the situation down- should be easy enough, right? Jeongguk was just trying to live out his days peacefully, but running from one’s past never really worked out for anybody- so why would he be an exception? He’s not. Demons tend to find who they’re looking for in the end.

Fifty Shades of Happiness by Kookie_andCream - Taehyung’s plan is simple: fall in love with Jeon Jungkook and ace his final assignment. (Spoiler: it isn’t that simple.)

The Forest by Jeojahyungnim - Taehyung is a photographer in a college town nearby a forest nobody is allowed to enter. His life changes when he meets a boy in the woods known for being completely void of life.

Feel it Kicking in by rix - Jeongguk and Taehyung are just riding it out together, getting high on waves and drugs and each other—platonically, of course.

(I don’t read rix’s stuff since I’m not into bottom guk, but admin guk loves all of their stuff and a lot of people seem to love their stories, so I’m sure this is great!)

Mutual Fiend by kkumkkatcher - “I didn’t recognize you with your clothes on.” An AU where Jungkook needs to kill Taehyung, but Taehyung also needs to kill Jungkook, and things get (more than) a bit complicated.

make this feel like home by aeterisks - Taehyung has spent his whole life looking for excitement, but instead, he ends up finding Jeongguk; somehow, that seems to be even better.

hold me like i’m hope by jjks - “Uh,” he says eloquently, looking back at Taehyung. “Do you, like, want something?” “Nah, I’m just popping in,” Taehyung says, looking around the place again. Jeongguk stares at him in confusion. “Wh–” he starts to ask when he’s interrupted by Taehyung grinning at him. “Yeah, I’d like to schedule a time to get a tattoo.” “Of course he wants a fucking tattoo, dumbass, why do you think he’s here?” It’s Hoseok, and honestly that warrants another punch to the shoulder, but Jeongguk decides to play it nice. He’s a good boy. OR: let me present to you the most cliché trope of all, starring tattoo artist jeon jeongguk & florist kim taehyung.

Candy-Wrapper Blue by Kookie_andCream - On 15 January 2017, Taehyung runs over a little girl named Im Yoona with his car. (It was an accident.) On 16 January 2017, his guardian angel comes down to earth. (His name is Jungkook.) Slowly but surely, in a whirl of wings and golden tears, the sinful and the angelic learn to love each other. (And it is a beautiful disaster woven out of light and shadows in a world of men and angels.)

Soulmates or not (You’re mine, and I’m yours) by taedybear - Jeongguk meets Taehyung on the most frustrating day at work in the bubble tea shop, and the world around him swirls into colours and patterns at the sight of the beautiful boy.

Daddy’s Lil’ Monster by BloodLikeRoyalty - Jungkook, also known as The Joker, is a notorious mobster that ruled the city of Gotham, and when Kim Taehyung, a man as beautiful as he is crazy, joins him and remains by his side, they prove to be a devastating menace.

WIP (as of 1/28/17)

vampires will never hurt you by snowmoney - taehyung had already had a pretty weird day, so really, being cornered into an alley by a vampire on his way home from work was probably to be expected. - “but what if a vampire drank the blood of someone who was anemic would they be seriously grossed out” au

(this one is recent, ½ chapters rn, 11k for just the first chapter, I like it so far)

Nyctophile by yururin - “Like I said, monsters aren’t real, Taehyung.” Jimin quickly pulled the closet doors open. At the bottom of the closet, sitting on the floor and leaning heavily against the walls, was a man with dark pink hair clad in dark clothes, bleeding and injured and looking positively close to death. Jimin didn’t know what to do.

We Make a Nice Pear by jeonnifer - Jeongguk tries to get the new transfer student expelled from the academy and fails. (Jeongguk tries not to fall for Kim Taehyung and fails even harder.)

Hustlers by tbz - Jungkook hadn’t meant to lose nine million. He certainly hadn’t meant to lose his kidney. And he hadn’t meant to meet Kim Taehyung.

i know you wanna go to heaven (but you’re human tonight) by moonlightae -Taehyung just thought it would be a one night stand, but he gets more than he bargained for

Kiss With a Fist by justanotherstarlessnight - “Need a little help, love?” Jungkook asks, teasing him. “Nah I had it all under control, sweetheart,” Taehyung answers with a smile, blood oozing from his split lip. Goddamn even smiling hurt now. Fuckity fuck fuck. Jungkook only rolls his eyes, his cocky smirk never slipping and Taehyung almost forgets how much pain he’s in. prompt-Can you please write the “ kick his ass for me” prompt with taekook!

Assassin’s Order by TaeSyubDKook - CEO Taehyung gets tangled up in some illegal business without even knowing and when Assasin Jeongguk gets assigned to extract information from him after being caught, he realizes in what mess he’s gotten himself into and agrees to cooperate with the assassins, after learning their true reasons, to bring down his uncle’s company. What Jeongguk and Taehyung didn’t expect was falling for each other in the progress.

pulling shapes just for your eyes by aeterisks - The number one rule when you’re a producer on a show like Miss Right, Taehyung thinks, should be do not fall for the bachelor. It’s such a shame Taehyung has never been good at following rules.

I’m only human (after all) by Lalaithwen - Taehyung always thought, writing your own destiny was way better anyways.

Hold Me Through the Winter by KrellaTu - When Taehyung sets off for what should have been a boring lab expedition with Jungkook, his mage academy’s resident genius and total heartthrob, and Wonwoo, his devoted best friend, his life changes forever. Beneath Taehyung’s goofy antics is a dangerous past and an unbearable loneliness. Within his fragile heart is a secret power. The universe has more planned for him than he would hope. Can Taehyung and Jungkook’s relationship withstand the hardships to come?

These Grey Walls (Can’t keep me from you) by Gracetheorc - They aren’t allowed to love each other. Jungkook’s never liked following the rules.Trapped within the confines of an institution where even talking to someone else is prohibited, Jungkook and Taehyung just can’t stay away from each other anymore. No matter how much trouble it causes.

got a question or request? check our tags page first to see if what you’re looking for is already there, or use the search bar on our blog! if you don’t have any luck with that, feel free to send us an ask^^

#taekook #vkook #taeguk #taeguknet #above 50k #under 50k #anonymous #ask rec

195 notes · View notes