#in fact the shorter the better so we can speed run reunion.

[plantfeed]

location: fanny's open mic night. status: closed for ella<;3 @laughstrack

they detest the performativity of open mic nights, where graduates in berets stand shoulder-to-shoulder with chin-stroking lecturers as they contemplate whether a nectarine can ever be a metaphor for a vulva. rory’s therapist says it’s ‘ good to put yourself out there ’ — probably in the secret hope that by becoming someone else’s problem, they’ll no longer have to deal with him, crying, hysterical, cross-legged on the roof of the triage centre in scrubs still covered in blood. they were supposed to end up in music, an electronic music EP out by now and a small but dedicated following on soundcloud. somewhere along the way they’d lost their path, ended up slaving away at bad track records to pay their way through a med school degree they're not sure they even want, selling vinyls that cost more than their daily pay to people who don't even understand chord progressions. thursdays are their day off. they get most of friday to recover from the mid-week, before the sound tech shift into the early hours of saturday morning begins, and then back to the MGH. so wednesday-night open mic becomes the melting pot where each week rory cuts a strip along his arm, bleeds out a poem, a song, a refrain written on his guitar, more often than not a haiku, the long hours mopping up other people’s guts watered down into a rhyming couplet about a climate change.          “ hi. me again, ”  comes their uneasy start, the self-conscious wave of his hand a half-apology for being there as rory takes to the stage, the mic unsteady in their grip.  “ uh, rory. for those of you who don’t know me… okay, this is a little different to my usual stuff, but i’m just gonna go for it… it’s a narrative poem i’ve been working on. it’s called winter with nilsen. ”  clearing their throat, they pull a scrappy lined piece of paper from the pocket of their corduroys and take a swig of liquid luck from the rim of a beer bottle, sticky resin where the label once stuck.  “ november, our bodies tight like toothpicks in a cigarette tin / you press your thumb against the hollow of my throat and i, losing my breath, losing my mind, disintegrate. i still hate the taste of praline — you told me once they made you think of dad, louisiana, a stranger in a pig pen who gave you tooth decay — it stuck like gum. longer than you did, at any rate. i reach for you / in dreams and grip the air, the lilac taste of… ” eyes snap up from the page, a prick at the back of their neck, and they lose their place on the page. there, by the jukebox, beside a journo grad in a gaudy bucket hat ; freya. rory swallows a gulp, averts his gaze, presses on.  “ the lilac taste of… ”  an attempt at continuing as if nothing’s happened disperses on rory’s tongue, a sudden claggy feeling, like all of the blood’s been sucked up into his ears.  “ sorry, i’m not… i don’t usually get stage fright. but it needs more workshopping. cynthia, do you wanna take over ? ”   it’s posed as a question, but really it’s a cry for help, thrusting the mic into the general direction of the open-mic emcee as they stumble down from the steps and out of the fire escape door to the smoking area, heartbeat throbbing like a metronome.

[lovlydovlyjaycie]

Ævi - The Protector

Hey, so this is going to be a mini series on something I have tried to do before. But I thought of a different way to make it shorter and to make it make more sense. I hope you like it, this idea has been in my head for honestly.. a couple of years now lol. I just decided I really want to put it down somewhere. And where is better than here? Am I right?! lol

Summary: This is set in 2010. There are no such things as superheroes. Right? Maybe Iron Man, but that is it. It has to be. Y/n was just trying to celebrate her birthday, but that quickly changed when she got a gift from a mysterious man.

Warnings: Non so far

Characters: Y/n, Bjorn Ironside, Ragnar Lothbrok, OC Emma, OC Lars, OC Sanna, OC Nils, OC David Mentioned: Iron Man, Odin

Part 1

It was Summer 2010, my birthday. Growing up I always thought there is no such thing as super heroes. But recently that has changed. Now there is a man that calls himself Iron Man. It sounded insane. But I thought, of course America needs another crazy thing to stand out with. I never expected something like that to happen here, Goteborg Sweden. Never, not in a million years, but it did. On my birthday of all days. It’s a long story..

Like I said it started on my birthday. It was a warm Summer day. I had planned to celebrate my birthday in the woods, so we were all allowed to do whatever. We were celebrating me twentieth birthday. I was so excited, I got to see a lot of my old friends from high school, college and even some from middle school.

My friend Emma, Lars and Sanna were helping me getting all the liquor. “So many people are gonna come! It’s like a reunion, we haven’t seen a lot of people since high school.” Emma cheered. She was always so excited to party. I’ll have to say me too. I loved being with my friends and having a great time.. drinking.. but also seeing everybody of course. Sanna was always a little on the background she doesn’t like to be the center of attention. Totally fine. And Lars I met in college. He also doesn’t really care for parties. Just for the guys that might be there. And I totally get that.

“I’m excited too! Can’t wait to hear what everybody has been up to.” I smiled at Emma. She has been my best friend since we were basically babies. We’ve always been inseparable, you could say that we are sisters at this point.

After we got all the alcohol from the liquor store we went to the woods. We brought a lot, but everybody is also bringing their own stuff. This is going to be a crazy night.

-

So many people had shown up. I also think that people just heard there was a party and came, cause there are some faces I’ve never seen before.

When it was getting darker people started turning on the lights of their cars. It gave such a cool effect. Lars was standing next to me. “So the people from your town.. how openminded are they?” He said questionably. “Pretty openminded.. and I heard that Sven over there with the yellow shirt is very openminded.” I smiled at him. “Hmm, I’m gonna check him out for his openmindedness.. I’ll report back to you.” He said walking away. I laughed at that.

“Hey can you help for a second?” Emma came running towards me. I turned around a bit startled. “Yeah, what happened?” I asked her. “Somebody got his car stuck and we need to push it out.” “And you think I’m strong enough to push a car out?” I asked smirking. “Well.. No.. But the guy who got the car stuck is Nils.. aaannddd I know you have had a crush on him since forever. Soo.. just come.” She said as she pulled me by my arm towards where ever that car was. I did have a crush on Nils, but that was high school and I haven’t seen him in two years. So I don’t know if those feelings were still very accurate.

Coming closer to Nils’s car I saw him standing by it with one other guy I haven’t seen before. His friend was quite short. “Hey Nils! I found some muscle.” Emma said pointing at me. Nils turned around. Yep, I definitely still have a crush on him. He had dark curly hair and dark blue eyes. “Hi.” I said awkwardly. “Hey! It’s been a while! Happy birthday y/n!” He said as he gave me a hug. “Thank you.” I smiled at him. “So.. you got your car stuck?” He looked down a bit embarrassed. “Yup, I’m an idiot. Would you mind helping?” “I don’t mind, I do have the muscle after all.” I said as I gave Emma a pointed look. “Alright I think me, David and you can push the car and Emma you sit in the car to reverse it... Oh sorry this is David by the way.” He gave me a wave. “Well sounds good to me.” Emma said and went to sit in Nils’s car.

“Ok, you ready? lets push.” We were standing in front of the car with our hands on the hood. We were all trying to push it and Emma was pushing the reverse. But nothing was happening. “Alright again, give it all you got!” Nils said jokingly. I took a deep breath trying to push the car as hard as I could. And then it almost flew back. “Wow! Nice! I really didn’t want to call someone for this. Guess the reverse finally worked.” Nils said as Emma climbed out of the car a little out of it. “That was no reverse.” She said. “Oh well. It’s out, that’s all I care about.” Coming closer to the car I saw two small dents where I had put my hands to push the car. Did I?.. I shook my head. It had to be the reverse. “Well thanks for helping me.” Nils said turning to me. “Yes, no problem.” I smiled at him and I felt my cheeks turning hot. “So how have you been all this time?” He asked. “Good, uhmm, I’m studying history right now. Very interesting.” He smiled at that. “You always loved that subject.” “How’d you know?” I asked him. “Well I sat behind you in class. I could see how well you payed attention to that.” And I felt my cheeks turning hotter. “You didn’t like history then?” I asked avoiding his gaze. I didn’t want him to see me blush. “Not really, but I liked the class. There was this girl I had a huge crush on.” Now I was trying to avoid his gaze to not look disappointed. “Oh who?” I asked. “You.” He laughed. But I could only stare at him with big eyes. “What! Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked shocked. “Well you also didn’t tell me.” He said as a matter of fact. “Well is als.. Wait, how did you know?” I asked him. “Emma just told me.” I turned around. “Em.. Where did she go?” She and David had left us by the car. I looked around and in the distance I could see her waving at me. I just gave her the finger.

“Welp.. the secret is out then I guess, that’s embarrassing.” I said. “No it’s not, cause now I can ask you on a date.” I was again a little shocked how easy this was. “So, waht do you say? Do you wanna go on a date with me?” He asked. “Yes, sure, I’d like that.” I don’t think the smile I had on my face will ever leave. “Great! you wanna take a walk and just catch up right now?” I nodded my head. This is the best birthday ever.

We had been walking for a little bit, just walking around where the party was at. Some people went in to the woods to do some ‘funny business’ Like nobody would notice.

“What is the era you’re studying right now?” Nils asked after a while. “Right now it’s everything Viking. Pretty interesting really. About their beliefs and how they lived also the language. Some important figures in that time as well.” He nodded. “You like that era?” He looked at me. “Yes, I feel like a lot of Sweden is shaped on the era and...” “Happy birthday.” A tall man said to me in English. He handed me a gift and a card. Looking back up the tall man had already turned around and walked away. “Who was that?” Nils asked. “I don’t know.” I told him. “I’m just.. gonna check I guess.. that was strange.” I said as I walked the direction the man went. “Do you want me to come with you?” Nils asked. “No I’m fine!” I yelled back as I picked up my speed.

I was walking further into the forest. I could hear the people from the party in the distance. It was very dark out here so I got the flashlight of my phone to try and see better. When I shone it up I was startled by a figure. “GOD!” It was Sanna. “What are you doing out here?” I asked her. “I was following you.. Who goes out into a forest by themselves.” She stated. It was kind of stupid of me to do, I could get lost. “Why are you out here?” She asked. “This man who spoke English gave me a gift and then walked away towards here.” She gave me a look. “And you decided to follow this strange man by yourself.” Sanna said as she crossed her arms. “I guess that was not very smart of me.” “Nope it certainly was not. What did he give you anyway?”

I looked at the gift and the card the man gave me. I decided to open the card first. ‘Happy birthday! Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.’ In English again. Sanna was looking over my shoulder. “Do you know anybody that speaks English?” She asked. “No I don’t.” In the card there was a drawing of a tree. “That looks like Yggdrasil.” I said quietly. “What is that?” Sanna asked. “It’s Viking.. It’s the tree of life or it’s what they believed the tree of life is.” I explained. “What’s in the box?” It was wrapped in white paper with a golden bow. I pulled on the bow and opened the box. In it there was a white rock with a golden glow to it. Something in me wanted me to touch it and never let go. Like I needed to protect it with all my strength. I had never seen this rock before, but it felt like it was part of me. Like a stuffed animal you got when you were a baby and had sentimental feelings for, no one could touch it, it was yours. That was what it felt like. I decided to pick the rock up out of the little box. It fit in my hand perfectly.

“It could be a nice.. big necklace?” Sanna said a little questionably. I decided to humor her and put it up to my chest. When I did It started glowing white and gold. I tried to pull the rock away from my chest but it was stuck. All of a sudden there were these golden white lights swimming around me. “What are you doing?! Drop the rock!” Sanna said distraught. “I can’t!” I yelled. This was freaking me out, what were these lights. Sanna came over to me trying to grab the rock from me. But when she touched it she flew back in the air. The lights became brighter and brighter. They were almost blinding me. I finally was able to let go of the rock, but it didn’t drop it was going into my chest. It was burning me I had never felt this kind of pain before. I was screaming my lungs out. It hurt so much. And my eyes were hurting from all the bright lights surrounding me. I put both my hands over my eyes to shield them. As soon as I did I felt like I was floating, but as soon as that feeling came it went away and I landed on the ground with a thud.

Looking around I was in the same place in the woods as I was before It was only day now. The trees looked smaller. Or did I become a lot bigger. I looked around me for Sanna, but she was nowhere to be seen. I only saw the card laying next to me. I picked it up. And gave it another look. I looked around for the stone, nut it was gone. “What the hell was that?” I said under my breath. I tried to find the rock that.. I don’t know what it did. It must’ve been a dream. But I couldn’t find the rock anywhere. I stood up and decided to walk back to where the party was before. Maybe if it’s early enough there are still some people. But when I got there nobody was there. But it looked like nobody had ever been there. I decided to walk to the spot where Nils’s car got stuck, but even the tires that had damaged the ground before was gone. “How long was I out for?” I asked nobody but myself. Looking around there were no traces at all of anybody. How is that possible? I decided to walk towards the road. It wasn’t too far. But even the dirt road that would lead to the main road was not there. Was I lost? It did seem like the same place only the trees looked smaller for some reason. “You’ve got to be kidding me!” The main road was also gone. What was happening?

I looked around again, just for any sign of anybody. I have to be lost. Looking around again I saw a dark figure in the far distance. It looked like a woman. “Hello?! I think I might be lost, where is the nearest city?!” I Yelled at her. But there was no answer. “Hello?!” I did not want to stay here so I decided to walk towards her. As I came closer I could kind of make out her face. She had high cheekbones and eyes that felt like they were staring into your soul. “Hello?!” I yelled again.

All of a sudden there was a knife being put to my throat. “Who are you?!” I was taken a back. “Uhm I.. I’m y/n. I’m just lost, if I was trespassing I’m so sorry.. I., I just don’t know where I am.” I was stammering. “Who where you talking to?” The man asked. “That lady over.. there..” But she was gone. “Are you with the English?” He asked. “I.. No I’m not with the English. Look I don’t know what happened. Something strange happened and now I’m here. I don’t know where I am and I just.. I don’t know what happened just please don’t kill me.” I begged him. He pressed the knife closer to my throat for a second before putting it away. “Come with me.” He said while grabbing me elbow and dragging me with him. “Where are you taking me?” I asked struggling to get out of his grip, but he didn’t answer only held me tighter. “Who are you?” I asked. “Bjorn.” He said and looked down at me.

He had a few scars on his face. Now really looking at him he looked out of time. His clothes or armor looked Viking. His hair was braided but the sides of his head were shaved. On his belt there was a sword. It looked Viking as well. “Where are you taking me?” I tried again. But nothing. This time I was hitting him just trying anything for him to let me go. “You’re making it harder for yourself.” He said as he tried to grab my other arm. “No!” I yelled and he flew back by a golden white force. I froze. Did I do that? I looked at my arms and they were glowing that same glow I had when I touched the stone and then it slowly faded away.

I looked up at the man named Bjorn. I didn’t mean to do that. He looked just as shocked as I felt. He slowly stood up and put his hand on his sword. “I didn’t mean to do that. I’m so sorry.” I said. “What are you?” He asked. “I.. Human?” I mean how do you answer a question like that.. “Who send you?” He asked probably trying to understand what happened. “I.. Look I don’t know how I got here and what’s going on.. I just don’t know, ok?” I told Bjorn. He looked up at the sky. I followed his gaze up. But there were just clouds. “Did He send you?” He asked looking at me. “Who?” I was a bit confused by the question. “Odin. Did Odin send you?” That only confused me more. And then in the distance there was a snap of a twig. Bjorn quickly pulled out his sword in the direction the sound came from. He quietly walked over to me. “Come with me, I will not hurt you.” I looked around towards where the twig snapped briefly before nodding. “Just please tell me where you’re taking me.” He nodded before we started walking again. “To Kattegat. You’re going to see my father, Ragnar Lothbrok. He is the king.” What? that didn’t make any sense. “Is this real?” I wondered out loud. “What?” Bjorn asked me. Did I fall back in time? That’s not possible.. Right? But Bjorn looks like he really dresses like that. It doesn’t look like some kind of costume. I sighed. I’m just going to ask. “What year is it?” He stopped in his tracks. “What?” I sighed again. “What year is it?” He looked confused. “Its nine-hundred-sixty-five.” I looked at him with big eyes. “Can we go now?” He asked and started walking and I followed him straight away. “If your father is Ragnar Lothbrok.. Does that make you Bjorn Ironside?” Now he stopped in his tracks again. “How do you know that? You were send by Odin right. He’s the all father.” I didn’t know how to answer that. How do I explain I know this, because non of this made any sense. “I.. I just.. know?” I didn’t know how else to answer that question. He searched my eyes trying to see if the answer was there. But he didn’t say anything. He just motioned for me to follow him again.

-

After a while of walking we came to a town. It looked outdated. the houses looked like the ones I have seen in books, but now they’re really here. They looked old, but you could see they were just made. The people in the town all kind of looked the same like Bjorn. They either had armor on or wore dresses I had seen in museums and books. Now I felt like the one out of place with my jeans and t-shirt. “This is Kattegat.” Bjorn said putting his arms and pointing around. Everybody we were walking past looked questionable at me. I felt very out of place. Straight ahead there was a house. A longhouse. It stood out from the rest, it was far bigger than any of the houses we walked past. My guess would be that Ragnar would live there. And then I was standing in front of the longhouse where people were guarding the doors. Bjorn motioned for me to come in, so I followed him. The guards gave me a weird look as I walked in.

Inside there was a big and beautiful chair in front and center, covered with fur. “Father!” Bjorn Yelled. There were some people inside cleaning, servants maybe? “Son!” A man yelled back he came out of somewhere behind the throne with open arms. Bjorn walked towards him and gave him a hug. “What did you hunt for? You were not gone for very long.” he asked Bjorn. “I didn’t get the chance. I found her.” Bjorn said as he pointed at me. I looked up at them still standing by the door. “Who is this? A new servant?” The man asked. “No, this is y/n. I found her in the woods by herself.” He told him. The man walked over to me. “Is she with the others?” He asked. “I don’t think so.”  The man walked around me. “Why is she dressed like that?” He turned around and asked Bjorn, but Bjorn just shrugged. So the man looked back at me looking for answers. “This is how I dress.” I didn’t know what else to tell him, it was the truth. “Father.” Bjorn said and nudged his head, motioning for him to come to Bjorn. They started talking in hushed tones. “I think she was end by Odin. I the woods she glowed a golden color. Not like I have ever seen before. She could be here to protect us. But..” Bjorn shook his head. “But what?” The man asked quietly. “I don’t think she remembers.” The man looked back at me. “Maybe her memory will come back and she can help us.” The man patted Bjorn on his shoulder.

“Where are my manners? I am Ragnar Lothbrok. Welcome to my kingdom.” He said as he made a bow. This was all strange. This couldn’t be happening. Being sent back in time? That happens in movies. Not real life.

...

..

.

Let me know what you think and if you wanna be tagged :)

[randomfandomfiction]

An Introduction to Tododeku Pt.2

a collection of tododeku recommendations and essential reading!

part one | part three

Him & I by Aurigardyn (67k, T+)

The man lifts his eyes and smiles and wow. Inwardly, Izuku groans. This guy is so out of his league, it’s unfair. Izuku is usually barely coherent near gorgeous boys, let alone gorgeous and rich boys like this guy.

Or : that unnecessary cheesy billionaire romance nobody asks for

Timely Problems by Imwastingmylifeinhere (47k, GA)

There is a point where something happens that's just too weird. For Izuku Midoriya, that point is when a portal opens in the middle of the common room and two children fall out that introduce themselves as his children with Todoroki. Has he mentioned that he has a ridiculously bad crush on Todoroki? Yeah, this is going to be fun.

yours, mine, ours by cityboys (45k, GA)

In which Momo winds up with a catering job and Shouto tries to delay the inevitable.

Cut From The Same Cloth by ShanaStoryteller (31k, T+)

When Endeavor finishes delivering his ultimatum, All-Might uses one of his precious minutes in his hero form to punch Endeavor in the face. The force of it sends the number two hero staggering back and into an alley wall, leaving an Endeavor-sized imprint in the bricks.

“THAT IS NOT HERO-LIKE BEHAVIOR!” All-Might roars.

~

Endeavor finds out some secrets, and the price of his silence is the marriage of Izuku Midoriya, the anonymous hero Deku, to his youngest son.

history has its eyes on you by aloneintherain (16k, T+)

Midoriya looked over the occupants of the room with butter soft eyes. “We should do this again. Seeing everyone in one place … it’s like we’re back in school again.”

Todoroki said, “It feels like a family reunion.”

(Social media fic, counting down the five months to Class 1-A's ten year reunion.)

Through the Looking Glass by livinglittlelie (16k, T+)

In a world where superpowers were a common thing, there was something almost miraculous called soulmates. Those who had the luck to have a soulmate would agree that it was the best thing that had happened to them.

After discovering he would never have a quirk, Midoriya Izuku thought his life was over. However, things started to change when, instead of his reflection, what he saw in the mirror was a boy he didn't know.

two sided feeling by sunflowerfaun (14k, T+)

When Todoroki slips up and does something he would never do, it becomes a common practice between him and Midoriya. He didn't know it would end up like this.

i won’t just buy you a rose by aknightley (13k, GA)

Shouto decides to visit his mother for the first time in years, and decides to stop at a flower shop along the way.

 He freezes in place, and before he can move again someone is bustling through the door behind the counter, all messy hair and wide green eyes. It’s a teenager, a little shorter than Shouto but probably the same age. He’s got a wide smile and there’s a smudge of dirt on his cheek, which instantly draws Shouto’s attention. His fingers itch to rub it off.

Cider Sweet by crispykrimi (13k, T+)

“Come over this weekend!”

Shouto takes a half step back, catches himself and adjusts his stance to be more grounded. His face is closing off rapidly- he has to do this quickly .

“Izuku-”

“Not- Not for the whole break! I know you’ve already made up your mind and I told you, I won’t stop you. But… just for one day?” Izuku takes a rushed breath, gaining speed as he pleads, “Spend Sunday with me. You can stay the night! My mom will feed you pumpkin bread until you puke and you can have at least one good memory from the break. Please?”

Fever Dreams by crispykrimi (12k, T+)

“It’s a cold, alright. It’s been going around. It’s usually a simple fix, but his quirk complicates things…”

“I think it might be my fault.” Izuku holds his elbow with one hand. “He’s been having, uhm,” he feels his cheeks heat. “Temperature fluctuations? A lot of them.”

Recovery Girl hums at him knowingly. “That would do it, wouldn’t it? Unfortunately his immune system is shot, and he just doesn’t have enough stamina for me to heal him. From his condition, I have to say he’ll most likely get worse before he gets better.” He had guessed as much… Izuku grits his teeth at the helpless feeling gnawing on him.

“However,” she says kindly. “He will be fine with a bit of rest. You’ll take care of him?” Izuku nods emphatically.

“Then we have little to worry about. He’s in good hands,” she takes his right hand in hers and pats it gently.

the price you pay for dreams by Captain (11k, T+)

Izuku is gone.

He just—disappears one morning. There's not even a fight going on at the time: he's just there one moment and the next moment he's not, as if spirited away by some mysterious sprite or stroke of magic, somewhere between the dorms and the main campus.

A Life Full of Dreams by ArgetCross (10k, T+)

Tomorrow, Midoriya would graduate UA and become a pro hero.

The sheer incredulity of having survived these last three years had hit him this morning. He had woken up at five am, ready to run to the gym to get to the good mats before class, until he realized there was no class. Midoriya had dropped back into bed and stared at the ceiling.

--

Or on beginnings and endings.

Hitsuzen by Methoxyethane (10k, T+)

He would have ended up falling for Izuku at some point no matter what, he was certain. No matter what path life took him down he'd have still ended up here, not because of anything as elaborate as destiny or fate but instead due to the simple fact of inevitability. Because Izuku was Izuku and Shouto liked just about everything about him, couldn't help but admire him and would always want to be around him, just for who he was.

fake it till you make it by writedeku (7k, M)

“Your d-d-d-date?” Izuku swears he’s overheating. He can almost feel the steam coming out of his ears. He’s lucky they’re the only ones in the room, because his face is so red, it could rival Kirishima’s hair.

“Yes. I would like it if you could pretend to be my boyfriend for the duration of the wedding,” Todoroki deadpans. “It would piss off my father.”

a huge mistake that wasn’t actually that huge by itenixol (6k, G)

shouto, being the biggest mess on planet earth, decides its a lovely idea to speak his feelings out loud to (what he thinks is) a sleeping izuku.

A Little Love Never Hurts (Until It’s No Longer a Little) by furihatachlookie (4.5k, T+)

It all started at the Sports Festival, and it all goes downhill from there. For Todoroki, at least.

not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all by theroyalsavage (3k, T+)

The proposition is simple: fake-date the single scariest human being on the planet so Todoroki Shouto can go out with his brother. The thing is, with Bakugou, Kirishima thinks he may have signed up for more than he’d bargained for. (A 10 Things I Hate About You AU.)

10!! THINGS!! I HATE!! ABOUT!! YOU!! AU!!

[ohmygoodnessgraciouss]

Heist (Loki x Reader) Pt. IV

Masterlist

*ENDGAME SPOILERS*

Missed the first part?  Read the first part here!

Author’s Note: Wow we’re this far in already?!  I wanted to give y’all this a little early.  I wanted to write more, but I know you’ve been waiting impatiently for the big reunion.  Let’s jump right in, shall we? 

Also, if you want anything special done with Loki, send me an ask!  I love writing requests, and I get to them ASAP!  

Taglist:

@angelofasgard16 @it-jinxed-us @dark-night-sky-99 @pyrowolfgirl1408 @heartsxhoney @twhgirl @xavierwoodsxkofikingston @panda-duuu @nonsensicalobsessions @marisayouass

Flying through the quantum realm was a trip you never thought you'd get to say.  It flew by quickly, but it was like going at G-Force.  Considering how small you were at the time, you may have been going at the speed of light.  It made you sick to your stomach, no doubt about that.  You were grateful to land in the dungeons of Asgard.  

Arriving shortly after you was Rocket and Thor.  They collapsed on the ground next to you.  Clearly, they had similar thoughts about the quantum realm.  You weren't excited about having to go through that all over again.  If you could, you'd rather wait the 10 years to get back.  

Unfortunately, that's not how this can work.  "Alright, Y/N, I'm sure you know the way to Loki's cell.  We'll follow you and move past to get the Aether.  I can unlock the barrier for a short time if you want to do that and meet up with us in about an hour."  Thor stated.  You nodded and started making your way through the dungeon.

It was so dark in the dungeon that you felt like you were blind, and the brick didn't help the temperature.  It'd feel great on a hot, summer day, but now was not the time to think about that.  Now, you had to see Loki.  10 years without seeing him killed you, to say the least.  You missed him dearly.  

Rocket started running for it when you made it to his cell.  Thor quickly passed by after taking down the barrier using a special control panel.  It was Asgardian, so you had no idea how it worked.  Either way, as a scientist, you wanted to know how that was possible for a land without electricity.  

You slowly made your way to the barrier, peering in.  There he was, tossing a cup in the air over and over again.  He looked so much younger than you now, even for only 10 years.  He looked exactly how you remembered him.  Long, black, curly hair, his high cheekbones, and his emerald green eyes.  You were happy to know that your brain hadn't forgotten a single detail about him.

The barrier slowly came down temporarily and you walked inside slowly.  Loki noticed the sudden movement and turned to see you.  He was shocked and quickly sat up.  It had been a couple of weeks since he had last seen you.  "Y/N where have you been, I've been waiting for-" The god stopped abruptly.

You weren't surprised by it.  As he got a closer look, he could notice your aging.  Your hair was cut slightly shorter than it was before, you had barely noticeable wrinkles by your eyes, and you looked maturer.  "You're not Y/N, are you?  Who are you?" He asked.

"Well," You started off, "I'm technically Y/N, but I'm not going to bother trying to trick you.  I'm sure you can tell already that I look a lot older."

Even your voice sounded defeated.  Loki's heart was slowly breaking at the sight of you.  You didn't need to say anything, he knew that whatever happened, it wasn't good.  You looked weaker than before, and your eyes spoke everything.  Something happened that broke that spark you used to have.  The joy and happiness he'd see every time you came to visit was gone.  He couldn't imagine hearing your laugh coming from you at this point.  

"What happened?" He asked quietly, studying your eyes carefully.

"I'm not from this time, as you can tell.  In fact, I'm from 10 years into the future." His eyes widened when you said that.  While 10 years was nothing for him, he knew it was somewhere around a tenth of a human's life span.  

"What has the future done to you, my love?"  Loki walked up to you carefully.  He was worried it was a trick of some sort.  He lifted his hand up to your cheek carefully.  As if it were an instinct, you leaned into his touch.  His touch was so much better than you anticipated.  

"More than I have time to tell you, probably," You smiled slightly.  Loki couldn't shake off the feeling that it wasn't you though.  He knew something bad would be coming soon, but he didn't know what.  He drew his hand back and you almost frowned at the action.

"How do I know it's really you?  What if you're a Skrull or someone who's coming to invade Asgard?" Loki stepped back slightly.  

You were unsure of how you could prove it to him.  It suddenly popped into your head as to what could work.  You pulled the necklace out from under your top.  The stone was shining brightly under the light.  "Remember when you gave me this?  I still remember the day like it was yesterday.  It was in my book with Shakespeare plays.  You placed it on the page with Romeo and Juliet."  

Loki was silent as he looked at the necklace and then back up to you.  He wasn't sure why, but he trusted it.  Especially because the necklace looked exactly like it did when he last saw it on you.  Every time after he gave you the necklace, he'd see it on the next visit.  Maybe you would put it on right before going to see him, but he didn't mind either way.  He loved seeing you wearing it.

"What are you doing here so far from your present?" He asked softly.  He walked up to you until he was only a few inches from you.  He was tempted to pull you into his embrace. "What happens that takes the light from your eyes?"

"I don't know how much I'll change with telling you the future, but at this point, maybe it's not a bad thing."  You said, trying to debate quickly what to do.  Before you could say anything else, you felt his arms snake around your waist and bring you up against him.  

All that did was bring you to tears.  You quickly wrapped your arms around his neck and leaned your head onto his shoulder, breathing in his scent.   Everything about him brought back memories.  You couldn't help crying.  You missed this so much.  

Loki wasn't sure of what was going on.  He didn't know, nor did he care.  He knew this was still his Y/N.  He knew that this was still the woman he loved.   His hand moved up to your hair and he ran his fingers through it lightly in a comforting manner.  

When your tears subsided shortly after, you decided to tell him limited details about what happens in the future.  You couldn't mess up the timeline, even though you had been told it'd be alright.  "Loki, I probably shouldn't tell you anything about it, but we've probably already messed up the timeline anyway." You realized that he had moved you both to the bed while you were crying.

"We?" He asked.  "There are more with you?"

"Thor, and a raccoon, it's a very long story," You brushed it off quickly.  Loki was confused by the raccoon part, but he didn't question it.  "I know you know Thanos quite well."

He froze up at the thought of the titan.  "Yes, I know too much about him.  What happens?"

"In five years, he gets all of the infinity stones in the process of one week.  Asgard is destroyed because of your sister, Thanos gets the stones, and he takes out half of all populations in the universe," You dodged telling him that he died.  Loki rubbed your back in comforting circles.

"So, you and Thor are alright in the end?"  He asked.  That's all that mattered to him.  He didn't care what happened as long as you and his brother were okay.

"I don't know if you'd say we're alright, but we're alive.  We lost a lot of people though."  

"Including me?"

You stopped for a moment and continued to look at the floor.   You hadn't seen him in ten years and all you wanted was to be able to see him, but you couldn't bear to look him in the eye and tell him the answer to his question.  It'd break your heart all over again, and how would he react?

The Norse God reacted to it better than you expected.  He was calm and collected about it.  "How?  Where?"

"I only know as much as Thor would tell me.  He said you gave up the Tesseract.  You tried to pretend that you would pledge allegiance to him.  When you went to strike him, he stopped you with the infinity stone.  He-" You had to stop yourself for a second.  It was getting to be too much.  "He snapped your neck.  Thor believes that you did it to delay Thanos from going to Earth, so it'd give Bruce time to warn the others."

He was quiet for a single moment, contemplating your words.  "Bruce?  As in the Hulk, you talk so much about?"  

You laughed a little at his question.  "Everything I've said, and that's what you get from it all?"

"If it makes you laugh, love, then that will be the first thing I take from it all," He said, knowing that his question would make you laugh.  At least, it would make his present Y/N, so he was hoping it would work on you as well.  

"I missed you so much," You quietly muttered.  Loki sadly smiled at you.

"When do you have to go back?"

"Whenever Thor and Rocket come back with the Aether."  He assumed when you mentioned Rocket you meant whatever a raccoon is.  

"Could that be a while?"

"Knowing those two?  They're going to take forever to simply figure out what their plan is."

"Then let's make the most of our time."  Before you could ask him what he meant by that he was kissing you gently.  

Your heart nearly stopped at the action.  It may be cheesy to say that sparks would fly, but that's how it was when you'd kiss him.  Loki was always gentle, in fear of driving you away by going any harder.  

Once the shock wore off you kissed him back.  You were rougher than he was, rushed because you didn't realize how touch-starved you were after all of these years.  All you wanted at this point was him.  

Instinctively you had started tangling your fingers in his hair.  You could feel his arms around your waist bring you closer to him.  It was probably the happiest moment in the past five years.  Even if it wasn't in your timeline, even if you were ruining someone else's timeline, you didn't care.  You were selfish when it came to him.

You and Loki broke apart when you needed oxygen.  It may have been only minutes, but you could've sworn it was hours.  "If you keep doing stuff like that Loki, I'm not going to want to go back," You laughed breathlessly.  

"I'm afraid I can't allow you to stay.  You have your own present to go back to.  Maybe I'll be around in your present now, now that you've told me this."

"It doesn't work that way though.  Time travel works in a strange way.  What I'm doing, if you don't do the same actions you did in my timeline, it will create a new timeline."

"Unless this was how it was supposed to be from the start," He said, absentmindedly grabbing one of your hands.  

"What do you mean?"

"Do you doubt my motives, darling?  I've tricked my oath of a brother plenty of times into thinking I died.  I don't believe I could forget how to do that of all things," He grinned.

"If that's the case, I'm going to kill you in 2023, I'm warning you now," You fired back.

Loki chuckled, happy to see you acting like this.  You definitely needed it.  You didn't realize how badly you needed him.  

"I'm counting on it," He said.

"At least, in 2018, write me a letter, alright?  Let me know you're still around," You smiled slightly.  He promised.

Before you could say anything more, you saw Thor out of the corner your eye.  Rocket was running closely behind him with the Aether in hand, or paw, for that matter.  "Hate to break it up, but we gotta go!"  Rocket yelled.

"Thor?  What happened to you?"  Loki was astonished to see his brother in the state he was.  It looked like he had been crying before.  With Mjolnir in hand, he opened the barrier, allowing you to be able to walk through again.  

Thor didn't reply and instead waited for you to come through.  Before you left the room, you hugged Loki tightly again, leaving a peck on his cheek.  He smiled at you, and let you go, not before whispering one final thing to you.  "I assure you, Y/N, the sun will shine on us again."

You slowly made your way down to Thor and Rocket.  Thor took one final glance at his brother before tapping the button on his GPS.  You and Rocket did the same motions, changing back into your suits.  "Let's go reverse what that giant purple bastard did," You said.  Rocket looked at you, pleased and amused with your nickname for Thanos.  You all clicked your button at the same time, bringing you back the present.  

The last thing you saw before going back was Loki watching you curiously from his cell.  You wouldn't forget a single detail about this anytime soon.  

[misshwrites]

Unforeseen circumstances | MYG - Chapter 01

pairing: Min Yoongi x OC

genre/warnings: fluff, angst, yoongi having no chill whatsoever

words: 4181

Summary: They never had a chance to begin with, but they were young and in love, they thought they knew better.

Lee Yoonah’s parents had carefully planned her whole life from the moment of her conception. Min Yoongi was the one variable that they never counted on, but that was corrected in due time, just before their graduation in college, or so they thought.

Or: In which life doesn’t respect no one’s plans.

(please read the prologue first)

Chapter 01:

5 years later

Kim Seongjoo was a man with many admirable qualities. He was smart, accomplished in his field of work, had a good relationship with his family, could speak four languages, and was remarkably handsome.

Any woman would be honored to become his wife. At least that was what her mother kept repeating.

Unfortunately for Seongjoo, even when combined, those qualities weren’t enough to redeem his biggest two flaws, as assessed by Lee Yoonah.

The first and most relevant right then: he just stood her up on what was supposed to be their first 'private' date, the one time they would finally be able to meet without their respective families interference. The second, manageable one: she wasn’t attracted to him at all.

Rereading the text of the half-assed apology her 'fiancé apparent' sent her, Yoonah let out a resigned sigh and ordered a drink. She had left work earlier than usual, and dressed up prettily for this. However, truth be told, Yoonah had no tears to shed over Seongjoo's inability to follow his own schedule. In all sincerity, she was even pleased by this turn of events, thanks to which she could enjoy a couple of fancy drinks by herself.

She’s one gin and tonic and a half through the night, contemplating on using her father’s corporative credit card to pay for this frustrated business meeting when the universe gets bored with her passive attitude towards life and decides to shake things up.

He sees her first, all breath leaving his body. It has been five years since Min Yoongi last laid eyes on the woman that, in all honesty, was still the love of his life.

Time had been generous with her. The girly roundness of her features had subdued slightly into more defined lines, and her hair was shorter, the midnight black tresses stopping under her collarbones. Yoonah was even lovelier than he remembered, a fucking angel of misery, consuming his whole existence just by sitting there, decked in her ivory lace dress.

Yoongi stood frozen in the middle of his favorite bar, trying to discern of the wave of feelings that overwhelm his senses, and the fight or flight response kicked in. His brain takes charge over his body, deciding on flighting the scene. Fortunately, he manages just one step towards the door before the overly friendly, foreigner bartender, Mark, notices him and waves happily calling his full name.

“Min Yoongi-ssi!”

Yoonah’s head turns towards him so fast that he is sure she will experience some minor case of whiplash. Her drink almost slips from her hand, and her doe eyes widen comically. The whole scene makes his heart constrict in his chest.

Her panicked gaze is too much to ignore, so Yoongi suppresses the urge to run away and decides to seize the unexpected opportunity to hear her voice again. He controls his face and offers what he hopes to be a soft smile, waving absentmindedly at Mark to bring his usual whiskey while walking to the stool she occupies.

Yoonah’s mind works in overdrive, she can feel the blood rushing through her body at a speed that can’t be healthy.

Yoongi looks like the polished version of the boy she met in college, and the familiarity of his looks is almost too much for her heart to take.

His hair is bleached blonde again, but a shade lighter than the one she remembers. His ears are still pierced, but now he sports three silver hoops in each lobe. Instead of flannels, he’s wearing a pair of retro-styled horn-rimmed glasses, paired with a black turtleneck sweater and an elegant coat.

He throws a shy smile her way, and she feels like her ears will combust, but somehow manages to smirk back, raising her hand in greeting. She genuinely hopes for Yoongi to speak first because she can’t find her voice.

“Hey, Yoonah-ah… How’re you doing?!” He croaks, voice low, hand outstretched.

If someone were to tell her a few hours ago that the convenience date imposed on her would bail, and that she would end her night carrying a mildly awkward conversation with Min Yoongi, Yoonah would suggest for the person to have its head checked.

Not even in her wildest dreams, she would consider that a reunion with her ex-boyfriend would go so smoothly. She had spent a good part of those last four years musing over their parting words, the bitterness in his tear stained face when he accused her of not fighting for them. She meekly carried the weight of his disappointment, accepting the worst part of their breakup as a fact: Yoongi would never forgive her for not standing up against her parents. For selling them short.

But there he was, calmly catching up to the events of her life’s past years, a bashful smile tugging at the corners of his dainty lips whenever she averted his feline eyes as if the past did not affect him at all, as if their break up had resulted from a friendly agreement.

Maybe it felt like that to Yoongi by then, she mused. Yoonah had heard about his accomplishments, even amongst her stuffy colleagues at the magazine he was known, the ‘genius producer Suga’, still using the same pseudonym he adopted in their last year at university, a guy who was reinventing the rap and hip-hop scenario in Korea.

Perhaps after conquering everything he’d ever dreamt of, he saw what they had lived as non-consequential. The thought left a sour taste in Yoonah's mouth, and that was probably what prompted her to voice her worries. Either that or the arrival of her third drink of the night.

“Am I forgiven?” she blurted out just to immediately regret it and blush furiously.

Yoongi stopped in the middle of his update about the newest restaurant Kim Seokjin was opening, clearly surprised.

“Why would I have to forgive you for anything?” he asks in confusion, he reaches to touch her before thinking better about it and retreating.

“As I recall it, you weren’t very pleased with my choices the last time we spoke…” she answers without meeting his eyes.

“Ah...Yoonah-ah…”

Yoongi removes his glasses, momentarily hiding his face in his hand, ears flaming red. He really did not expect her to bring out the elephant in the room. He had this silly hope that maybe they would carry on talking about amenities and, in a perfect world, part ways as friends. It seemed like a solid plan in his mind. But then, Yoonah had made a habit of messing up with his plans from the moment when they first spoke.

“I’m very sorry about what I said back then… really. I hoped that maybe you had forgotten about my outburst...” He takes a long sip of his drink, signaling Mark for a refill. If they were discussing their past, he would need it.

“Look, it wasn’t your fault, Yoonah-ah… It took me a while to finally understand it, to accept that I was to blame... I knew about your parents' arrangement from the beginning and still wanted to try my luck at changing their ways… Fuck, truth be told, I begged you to give it a shot. You warned me, and still, I went out of my way to convince you that it would work out, didn’t I?” He sighs, touching his earrings in distress.

She stares in utter and complete shock, trying to make sense of the words that keep coming out of Yoongi’s mouth.

“I’m so sorry, Yoonah… I’ve never meant for you to carry this guilty alone…” He says, embarrassment coloring both his face and his voice. “Ah, shit, I should’ve known better…”

“You don’t hate me, then?” She finally answers, searching for confirmation in his eyes.

“Hate you? Of course not! God, Yoonah! I couldn’t hate you even when I wanted to!” Yoongi almost falls from his stool at the complete absurd of her question, this time his hand reaches for hers on its own accord, caressing her cold fingers absently.

The sudden lightness in her chest leaves Yoonah feeling slightly dizzy, and she convinces herself that this is the reason why she tightens her grip on Yoongi’s hand, relishing in the warmth of his touch.

For the past four years the memory of the hurt and despise on his eyes during their last meeting was such a constant weight in her conscience that Yoona simple forgot how it was to live without the worry.

The producer could almost see the worry being lifted from her shoulders, the light returning to her eyes warming his insides, feeding his urge to simply hold her closer. Even if they were never to talk again after this night, Yoongi felt grateful that he had the chance to correct this misunderstanding.

That warmth is what prompts him to finally ask the question that had kept him awake for countless nights throughout those years.

“Have you ever heard any of my music, Yoonah-ah?”

His guiltiest pleasure was trying to talk to her using the idols voices, sending encrypted messages through his lyrics, with the foolish hope that she would listen to them and maybe, by some miracle, try and reach out for him.

It was a long shot, and it wasn’t a healthy habit, he was aware of that. Kim Namjoon, one of his best friends and co-worker, had noticed it years ago and tried to convince Yoongi that it was a masochist practice, but the producer just argued that he couldn’t really control his inspirations. In the end, he won the argument. After all, the music he made from his own angst was recognized as his best and awarded accordingly.

The true shock for him was seeing hurt flooding Yoonah’s eyes at his question, and he watched anxiously as she fidgeted with her hair and took a long sip of her drink before finally whispering.

“I’ve listened to the first one… Truth be told, I’ve been avoiding them ever since…”

Yoongi was sure it would have been better had her slapped him. He would have her listening to some of his raciest lyrics and being pissed any day rather than the one song she admitted to knowing.

But of course the universe could spare him no mercy, and amongst the three years worth of desperate love pleas he sent her way, the one message that reached Yoonah was the raw note written by this freshly heartbroken version of himself, filled with misdirected anger.

The lyrics to that particular song haunted him quite often. It was the demo that got him signed up as a producer in his present company, the creation that opened all the doors for him, and yet, the one he regretted daily. Because, at the end of the day, he knew Lee Yoonah, and dreaded the exact scenario he's now facing: The one person he never really meant to hurt took his harsh words by heart.

Yoongi reaches for his phone without a second thought, while the fingers of his free hand start roaming Yoonah's forearm in an unstudied caress, seeking to soothe her pain at the best of his ability, all property be damned.

Yoonah finally raises her head at that,  all nervous ends on her body jumping into high alert while her eyes stay trained on his healing touch, so familiar even after all those years.

Unaware of that, Yoongi focuses on opening his Evernote and scrolls through the app, a trademark frown signaling his concentration until it's replaced by a short-lived satisfied expression, that turns into gravity once he looks back towards the woman in front of him.

“Yoonah, I need you to know that I don’t really feel like the boy who wrote that song. I was hurting, and I was lost… We had so much planned. We were going to spend the weekend with my family so they could get to know you better, remember? Against my better judgment, I had this whole plan for our lives together… And suddenly everything changed…” He scratches his ear, voice getting softer “At the time I felt like someone stole my future, and I couldn’t see that you’re wronged as well… I regret it so much.”

At that, he slides the phone towards Yoonah.  She immediately recognizes the title displayed at the top of the document. She has conditioned herself to check the team behind every single song released by the artists signed under the same label as Yoongi before listening to them, feeling like it was always better to be safe than sorry. This one is fairly new, a ballad from a popular solist, that her colleagues from the magazine raved about for a few weeks.

“I’ve tried to apologize, you know? I’ve written you so many lyrics over the years, using other peoples' voices to tell you everything I should've told you that night…" His eyes pierce hers in an almost desperate plea, and his fingers grip slightly at her sleeve’s fabric "I know I have no right to ask you this, but please read at least one of them, to understand what I meant. Just this one?”

Deep down she knows it isn’t a good idea, that this whole conversation is actually a terrible idea, but she completely ignores this notion. Because Yoonah knows she doesn’t want to live another minute with the belief that the lyrics of his first famous song were Yoongi’s last words to her.

Her eyes scam the lyrics faster than her heart and brain can process them, and she needs to read the whole thing thrice before finally absorbing Yoongi’s words. She doesn’t know what she was expecting, but surely enough, it wasn’t anything as raw as the emotions bared on the screen.

The man portrayed by the song dwells with being unable to forget someone, he struggles with his hope of finally meeting that person again and his knowledge that this would hurt him. He regrets deeply that he’d tainted the memories of their relationship, and he wonders if he can be forgiven. There was too much left unsaid and he fears it is too late for apologies.

When Yoonah finishes her reading, Yoongi is staring at her, anxiety written in every line of his body. Sometime along the way he had retrieved his hand, that now fidgets with the turtle-neck from his sweater.

“This was inspired by me?” She finally asks, her eyes stinging suspiciously.

“No. It was entirely written for you.” He goes back to twisting his earring “Too much?”

“No… Maybe? I just wasn’t expecting this at all… I don’t know what to say…” and it’s true, she feels lost, it’s too much.

The silence stretches between them and she goes back at scanning the lyrics, desperate for something to anchor her turbulent thoughts. Yoongi awaits in apparent patience, his impassive mask enough to fool anyone watching them from afar.

“You really don’t remember our last kiss?” Yoonah finally questions, embarrassment and incredulity coloring her features, and Yoongi is clearly surprised by that turn in the subject.

“No… Do you?”

“Yes… It was on the day my mother gave me the ultimatum. You were finishing your demo and had been locked at the studio for fourteen hours, remember?” Yoongi nods, eager to retrieve at least this bit of memory.

“I stopped by to drop some food before my lunch with her, we talked for a bit, and I kissed you goodbye before leaving… It wasn’t anything special.”

She looks away after that, because the longing on his feline eyes becomes too much for her body to handle.

“That was really anticlimactic, wasn’t it? I was hoping for something more remarkable…” Yoongi blurts, taking a sip of his drink, a bittersweet smirk adorning his face.

Yoonah surprises even herself by snorting at his antics. He was right, though, it wasn’t a last kiss worth of the kind of passionate relationship they had.

“I wasn’t expecting for it to be a last kiss! I would have done better if it was planned.” She quips, boldly holding his gaze.

“Really?”

She raises her eyebrows, as if that was the most outrageous doubt he could have. It was.

“You would have to prove it to me. You know I’m a skeptic at heart…” his half smile doesn’t waiver, even though his ears color once again.

“That’s not a good joke…”

As she speaks, Yoongi calmly slides closer to her, and she can see that the glint in his eyes is anything but playful.

“It isn’t a joke, you’ll really have to show me.”

“Do you want to drive me crazy?” Yoonah feels her face heating just from the strength of his gaze, and wonders if she really wants to deny him.

“I mean it… I am not really asking for much, am I? I just want the memory of our last kiss, it’s something that has been haunting me.”

He can pinpoint the exact moment when she hesitates, and shamelessly uses it in his favor.

“Please? So we both leave this bar with one regret less?”

Yoonah’s doe eyes widen, but she knows the battle would be lost even if she felt like fighting it.

“You are playing dirty…” she says, but nods slightly at him.

Yoongi smiles with the satisfaction of a cat that had just found a bowl of unattended cream, dropping to his feet and taking a step into her personal space.

“Here? It’s a crowded bar, and you’re never fond of PDA, Min Yoongi.”

“I’m willing to make an exception tonight.”

She can’t help smiling, especially when his fingers lightly caress her face.

“Make it count…”

At first, his lips move softly against hers, the feeling comforting and familiar, as if only a couple of days had passed since they last met. This doesn’t last long, as Yoonah changes their pace, tongue tracing the seam of his lips, hungrily demanding more. Yoongi smiles against her mouth and concedes, while sliding his hand to her waist, pulling her as close as possible while in public.

She is also the one who breaks the kiss, face red and breath slightly erratic. Her fingers are still clutched to the front of his sweater, and she is sure they have an audience, but Yoongi seems unaware of their surroundings and is clearly unsatisfied because he only takes one deep breath before kissing her again.

This time the kiss is hot and demanding, and she instantly drowns in the feeling. Yoongi cards his hands on her hair, and when he separates their lips, he holds her gaze with inhuman intensity, like he’s trying to leave an impression. As if one was still needed.

They stand like that for a while, until the sound of Mark carefully delivering Yoongi’s drink order breaks them out of their haze. It’s also a clear reminder for Yoonah of where she is, and why.  

“I had an arranged date. That’s why I’m here alone… He stood me up.”

Anyone else would have been at least hurt by her words, but Yoongi only tilts his head, eyes fixed on her now swollen lips. He understands the purpose of this seemingly impromptu confession. Yoongi had played that game with her already, back when they were still a casual fling, Yoonah would always conjure obstacles for him to jump whenever she felt too emotionally exposed, as a reminder that they couldn’t be together.  

“One of your parents candidates?”  He asks, taking a sip of the glass left by the barman.

“The chosen one, as far as I was told…” She answers, looking away. Her voice almost falters, but she finds out that it’s easier to keep it together if he isn’t looking straight into her soul.

This gets him, and producer stays quiet for a moment that seems to stretch into infinity.

“Lucky bastard…” He finally says.

“My father says he has had enough of me rejecting everyone and stalling… Apparently, I’m not getting any younger as well…”

“That’s the shittiest reasoning I’ve ever heard… And I work for the entertainment industry.” He still sounds bored, but the ominous gleam of his eyes tell the truth. “Do you even know the guy? Do you like him?”

She emits a dejected sound that, he supposes, was meant to be a chuckle.

“I’ve met him and his family… He looks decent. I was told that he’s graduated with honors and is very accomplished at his job. He seems... okay.”

“Well, I am all of those things, and I had the advantage of harboring sincere feelings towards you… But I suppose the golden spoon is a tiebreaker, right?”

“Min Yoongi, don’t be a dick! I wouldn’t be drinking here alone if I was happy about the arrangement.” She spits her words at him, finally meeting his gaze.

He threads on dangerous waters, and he knows, but Yoonah’s last statement made him feel like his reckless younger self. For the first time in many years, he has true indignation fueling his temper. That and, given, an unhealthy amount of jealousy.

“Right… I was rude… I believe congratulations are in order, right?”

Anyone who met Lee Yoonah after her college days, the lovely young woman, efficiently balancing her job at a prestigious news magazine and her master’s, would classify her as docile. Very few had witnessed the temper and sarcasm that gave color to her real personality, traits her parents taught her to hide so well.

Maybe that was why Yoongi always had a penchant for bringing it to the surface. It probably aroused him, hearing her swear under her breath while staring up at him. He must feel very especial.

“Fine! Do you really want for this to end in animosity? Suit yourself!” She slides from the stool to leave, but he holds her elbow, a determined look on his eyes.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to be a jerk to you… I just got mad at the situation.”  He seems repentant, and when he reaches to tuck her hair behind her ear, she leans into his touch, instantly softened.

“I’m mad at it as well, Yoon… But you know as well as I do how my life works, It’s all part of a tightly scheduled agenda. I’ve learned how to live with it long ago, so I suppose I can learn how to live with this arranged marriage as well.” His hand is roaming in a soothing pattern, having traveled from her hair to her shoulder and then down to lace their fingers.

“I will still be missing you, though…” She confesses at least, and his eyes widen. This night has really turned into something unexpected.

He doesn’t know what prompts him to actually voice the crazy suggestion made by his brain. Maybe it was that rediscovered jealousy. Or perhaps it was the wishing tone coloring her words. Either way, it certainly had something to do with the familiar longing for her, rooted deeply in his core.

“Tell me something… Is there anything else scheduled for tonight on this hellish planner of yours?”

Yoonah is surprised by his line of questioning, and even more by the darkness she finds in his eyes when they meet hers.

“Why?”

He takes another sip of his drink, trying to drown the voices of warning on the back of his conscience.

“As I see it, you’re about to sign up for a loveless marriage with a man you don’t seem to care about… Don’t you think you deserve at least a proper hen night? I mean -- If you want it, I’m offering myself.”

Yoonah is glad she isn’t drinking anything when he finishes because she was sure to choke on the liquid while she spurts for air.

“You can’t be serious!”

Yoongi just nods, absently wetting his lips while waiting for her answer. Yoonah is sure her blood is boiling inside of her veins. Because she knows that Yoongi can read her just as easily as she can read him, even after all of this time he still knows exactly what makes her tick.

And right now, she knows his wanting is reflected on her own eyes. Their kisses having awoken the latent hunger she’d come to associate to the producer. And maybe giving in to this feeling and listening to her heart’s desires makes her a masochist, but at least she isn’t alone.

“This night was scheduled until half an hour before you’ve arrived. Right now, I’m on my leisure time so… What do you have in mind?” She finally answers, feeling her face flush from more than just embarrassment and alcohol.

Yoongi’s response is a huge gummy smile, far too sweet to match the owner of the hand fondling the skin of her tight just above the hem of her dress, his body expertly angled to hide his indiscretions from the rest of the patrons in the bar.

When he talks again, it’s in a conspiratorial whisper that has shivers running up her spine and heat spiraling through her whole body.

“Well… Can I persuade you to go completely off the record and come home with me?”

[webgottmilk]

~ Heard It Through the Grapevine ~

This fic is a gift for the lovely and patient @ciarlapanics; the fic rec is coming, I promise! In the meantime, enjoy some Bradray feels, since I’m a sucker, and you can never have too many in our little fandom. Enjoy <3

Summary: This is not quite how Ray imagined he’d become Internet famous.

Rating: E

Word Count: 5,237

This is not the way that Ray wanted to become Internet famous - in his mind, rock stardom comes from carefully crafted albums and hours spent in recording booths. Of course his fame is the wretched lovechild of his overactive imagination and (admittedly) poor planning skills.

And yes, perhaps literally jumping into Brad Colbert’s arms upon his arrival back to the States wasn’t the sanest of ideas, but even that he can let his best friend chalk up to his rather poor upbringing. (“If you had any less brain cells Ray, you’d be a drooling vegetable. In fact, the drooling part isn’t far off”). To be fair however, flying directly to Nevada,Missouri after finishing up serving with the Royal Marine Commandos - fucking English frogs in his mind - is no small feat to Ray, and deserves at least a small gesture of gay love on his part.

Ok, yes, Ray may have regretted the action as soon as he tackled Brad since holy shit the fucking Viking can hold on to a lot of weight and god damn those arms. But properly non heterosexual thoughts aside, it’s not really an intelligent idea to display affection in public for any Marine, lest civilians catch on to the idea that they’re actually human beings too! At least, Ray chooses to believe that that’s Brad’s reasoning for his usually reserved nature upon being body slammed at the Joplin Municipal Airport.

Surprisingly, Brad plays along with the reunion, twirling Ray around like some sparkly gay ass princess from Disney’s latest money making gambit, and laughs quietly into his ear.

“I knew you loved me, Iceman!”, Ray crows back - give him an inch and he’ll take a mile…

Brad is obviously thinking along those lines, dropping him faster than Encino Man called danger close strikes on his own men back in Iraq.

“I would question your actions, Ray”, he says, stepping back and lazily drawling, “but I know that there’s barely room for a thought that’s not involving incest or NASCAR in that fucked up head of yours.”

Ray tilts his head upwards to peer at Brad - who is still standing close enough that he can smell the sweat and dirt on his fatigues - and winks lecherously.

“I just couldn’t wait to get my hands back on those Viking arms of yours, homes. They’re irresistible”, Ray draws the last word out in an overexaggerated attempt to mimic Walt’s slow country accent. He blows the bemused Brad a kiss before striking off towards the baggage claim. Brad follows closely, always watching his six, as he crosses the terminal and heads towards carousel four.

“Eat any English sausages?”, Ray asks innocently as they idle side by side, waiting for Brad’s single camo coloured duffle to appear on the conveyor belt.

Brad only snorts, shoving Ray hard enough that he has to struggle the slightest amount to regain his balance, and dignity.

“Civilian life has made you soft, Ray. You’re a goddamn disgrace to every Marine in Nevada”, Brad shoots back, clearly not missing the shorter man’s attempt at recovery. “Don’t worry, you can join me on my six mile run tomorrow, early bird catches the worm, or the sausage, I suppose.” Brad laughs openly at his distress, then nudges Ray again suggestively.

“Homes, if I needed birds to help me find sausage, I would have checked myself into a hospice long before your giant white ass landed back on US soil.” He is obviously teasing, so Brad obliges with a soft huff, then quickly steps forward to grab his bag off the belt.

“Let’s go home, Ray. You clearly need a nap and a bottle before your infantile brain is able to comprehend even the simplest of metaphorical phrases”. With that, Brad marches in the direction of the Parking Area signs, Ray trailing behind him.

The ride home, in Ray’s ancient pickup truck (“Ray, this piece of junk is going to fall apart right out from under us, before I’ve had a chance to consume one of your shitty Coors Lights”.) (“Oh Bradley, you know I bought gay microbrew just for you - no Coors Light for your delicate sensibility”.) is non eventful, even with the occasional jibe about Ray’s Elvis sunglasses - “we pimpin, homes,” he recites with a wry smile, as they coast along the highway, still going a good ten miles over the speed limit.

The night is spent drinking too many shitty beers, and consuming too much shitty media. (“Ray, no matter what you say, Inception is a B+ movie with poor editing and no plot”) and (“Bradley Colbert, your mother raised you better than to insult the good name of Christopher Nolan, shame on you!). Brad passes out on the couch around two am, clearly succumbing to the exhaustion of a day spent airplane hopping. Ray covers him with a blanket, heroically ignoring the strip of pale skin that his ridden up fatigues expose. He gulps, making a mental note to stay far, FAR away from the thought.

Ray sleeps fitfully, mostly because, “goddammit Brad, pineapple on pizza is not only the gayest thing you have ever suggested to me, but also the most disgusting, which coming from me, should shame you.” Pineapple and Coors Light do not a friendly bedfellow make, so he spends his hours gravitating between the kitchen, where he can just make out the fine blonde hairs of Brad’s head, and his cold, messy bed. Ray knows how pathetic it is to stare longingly over the counter at your best friend, so he actively avoids the kitchen and living room after a couple of passes.  

Around six, he checks his Twitter, since if it’s good enough for Donald Trump, it’s good enough for him. (At least that’s how he defended his usage when Brad raised a judgmental eyebrow at him between scenes of The Usual Suspects.) He smothers his laughter when he sees the number one trending tag, because “planking” is literally the dumbest fad since swallowing goldfish. He passes the “Don’t Ask Don’t Tell Repeal” tag with much less amusement, but makes a mental note to read up on it at a slightly later date. However, it’s trending tag number three that stops him half way through a drink of water; the sheer absurdity of the tag “Marinesinlove” is so substantial that he isn’t sure whether to laugh, or hide his face in his grubby pillow. Marines, displaying emotions? That’s the most retarded fucking thing he’s seen in the last twelve hours, and Brad Colbert’s lustful gaze at a pineapple covered pizza was one of them.

In the end, curiosity kills the cat (fuck you Brad, he can understand simple metaphors, or whatever), so Ray bites the bullet and clicks the tag. And nearly drenches his lap in ice cold fridge water. The first image to appear is a gif of Brad twirling him, HIM, around in a circle, with the tag, “Marine boyfriends in love”, and the addition of three heart eye emojis. The post has over six hundred retweets, with comments such as the disgusting “awwww”, and “this is what true love looks like”, though with a suspicious lack of grammar so common to Twitter.

Numb, Ray continues scrolling - it doesn’t just stop at the gif. There are multiple picture sets of Brad staring into Ray’s eyes - hold on, he swears that they weren’t standing THAT close at the airport - and gif upon gif of him rolling his eyes at Ray’s ridiculous antics. But what Ray can’t help but continuously notice is the overwhelming amount of grammatically incorrect tweets praising the “anonymous” Marines for their candid display of affection. They extol their bravery in openly revealing a “passionate and sweet love” (if Ray rolls his eyes anymore, he’s sure he’s going to contract brain damage, which according to Brad, he can’t really afford to contract).

Seriously, it’s just two guys really excited to see each other, after months and oceans apart - at least that’s what Ray tells himself over and over. Shit. Motherfucking son of a bitch, what is he going to say to Brad? “Hey Brad, I know you just got home from dealing with horrible beer and worse accents for months, but the entire Internet thinks that we’re in love, so I don’t think it’s a good idea if you go outside just yet.”

Oh god, he’s dead. He is so, so, unbelievably dead.

Since the gods are cruel, and just when Ray’s life has taken a u-turn towards ‘your best friend / one who you harbor secret feelings of not so friendship for is about to kill you’, the very object of his thoughts appears in the doorway, strangely lacking any coverage in the torso area. Fuck Ray’s life.

“You’re up!” Brad says, fake joviality clearly meant to annoy Ray, “which means that you can join me for my hard core Marine six mile run, unless of course, your pussy civilian lifestyle has coddled you into comfort and diabetes already.”

Ray blinks at him, still trying to look past the obvious tan lines that mar Brad’s pale skin, and perhaps stop eyeing the toned planes of his stomach quite so obviously.

“Ray…?” Brad’s voice cuts through his thoughts, sending his nerves tumbling around his stomach. “Is your whiskey tango head so fucked up that you can’t even form a coherent thought before seven am? This is a truly desolate day, my friend, truly sad.” Brad is clearly trying to cheer him up through the usual jabs at his upbringing and civilian status, but it’s not really doing anything to ease his thoughts. Mostly because Brad is standing there SHIRTLESS, which is a goddamn distraction in itself.

Finally, he regains his voice: “Seriously homes? It’s day one, and you can’t even let your Ray-Ray have a little bit of a lie in? Come give me a morning kiss and we’ll go from there”. He musters up all the bravado he can, and throws his arms out, head tilted upwards,  lips pursing in supposed anticipation.

Instead of replying, Brad huffs and shoves Ray back onto the bed, sprawling himself across the other half, with his hand absently lying on Ray’s chest.

“Ray, if I knew you pussied out so easily, I would have woken you up at four, just to have the satisfaction of seeing you struggle to tie your shoes at ass o’clock in the morning. As it is, this bed is marginally more comfortable than the abominable piece of furniture you call a couch, so I am going back to sleep. But when I wake up, you best be ready to run, or I will throw you out the door naked and laugh as you struggle to walk up a hill without developing blisters on your delicate civi feet.” Brad says all of this whilst staring at Ray’s collar bone, the only thing in his line of sight. Ray is still actively staring at the ceiling, forcing himself not to imagine waking up to a half naked Brad Colbert in his bed everyday. With this speech over, Brad steals the pillow out from underneath Ray’s head, effectively trapping him, with one arm wrapped up in the two now resting under his pillow. He closes his eyes, and is almost immediately asleep.

Fuck his life. Really, fuck his life.

                                                <GK>

When Ray manages to extract himself from the BradRay pile that had been forced on him, his first thought is COFFEE. Everything in the world, his mother taught him, can be solved by a cup of black coffee. She always joked that the blacker the soul, the blacker the coffee, though Ray was never sure how much of it was jest, considering there was never any cream or sugar in sight the few times his absent father appeared.

Shaking his head, Ray bullies his French press (“When did you get married, Ray? The only place you can find those metal fuckers are at fucking Crate + Barrel during wedding season.”) (“Of course I’ll marry you, Brad! How could I refuse, with a proposal like that?”) into spouting the foulest, blackest coffee it can muster.

Game plan, he needs a game plan. Ideally, one which ends with Brad and him managing to have an adult conversation about their feelings and all that bullshit. He snorts coffee all over the counter, and down the front of his shirt at the thought. The very idea is both colossally retarded and completely unrealistic. While this thought marinates in his head, Ray hunts for another shirt. Blindly, he reaches for one hanging off of the end of the couch, and, throwing the coffee defiled one on the carpeted floor, pulls the other over his head. Feeling refreshed, Ray walks back across the living room into the kitchen, where he pours himself a third cup of caffeinated murder water.

Ok, so then, how? Perhaps it’s just better to show Brad - he is a visual kind of motherfucker. And, demonstrating that the entirety of Twitter believes he and Ray to be in some kind of idealistic gay love seems like the best way to pound the idea into his neanderthal thick skull. Maybe it’ll even dissuade Brad from clobbering Ray long enough for him to make for higher ground. Apologizing has never been one of Ray’s tactics - he is unapologetic in all that he says and does, a perfect Marine trait - so he doesn’t believe that it will get him anywhere. Resigned, he pours himself another cup of fortification, and hunkers down on a stool to wait out the impending storm.

Blessedly, he doesn’t have to suffer with his own damning thoughts for too long; a shirtless and sleepy Viking clambers from his bedroom about ten minutes later. By now, Ray is starting to feel the effects of his fifth cup of coffee - it’s not unlike the familiar buzz of Ripped Fuel.

“How do you feel about free trade coffee, Brad? In the opinion of this ex-Marine, I think it’s complete bullshit. Like seriously, Starbucks? All of your beans are “ethically sourced”, he makes finger quotes here, “yet your customers throw away more than four million cups every year? And your, ‘one tree for every bag of coffee sales pitch’? Utter shit - if you could even plant trees at that rate, we’d call you fucking Captain Planet and put you in a Marvel comic book.” Ray’s knee won’t stop bouncing off the underneath of the counter and he really needs to get a grip RIGHT NOW.

“Good morning to you too, Ray, and Jesus, I thought you’d detoxed from the Ripped Fuel. The fact that you know specific figures on the waste that Starbucks produces just proves that you’re more of a frappuccino bloated prepubescent teenage girl than I feared. Nevertheless , a six mile run will quickly cure you of this pussiness. Look sharp.” Brad says this lot as he crosses the kitchen, pours himself a cup of steaming coffee, and leans across the counter to examine Ray for signs of Ripped Fuel ingestion. Ray stares back, noticing an almost imperceptible tightnesses that briefly overrules Brad’s expression. He has no idea what that’s about.

“Brad”, Ray begins, and winses, picking at the peeling paint on the side of the counter. He hates that he has to have this conversation, and even more, he hates how terrified he is to have this conversation. If it goes badly, he might very well lose Brad. “I really don’t think that the run is going to happen.” He quickly slips on an impish smile to cover his discomfort, and then adds, “you haven’t even tried my famous caffeinated bean water yet! It’s the best on the block! I swear to god, if you can’t take one day off, I’m FedExing you to Doc Brian for a psych eval, and don’t think I won’t make sure you fail it, even to give you one day of true R&R.”

Brad, who had been contemplatively sipping his coffee and staring into the living room, looks at Ray with an exasperated glance.

“Knew you’d pussy out; fine, I agree to forgo the run, IF, and only if I am allowed to force feed you more pineapple pizza before our run tomorrow morning.” His glance becomes an evil smirk, fully knowing that whether or not allowance is given, he’ll do it anyways.

And goddamnit if Ray wouldn’t willingly allow him to - he is so fucked. Instead of replying, he rolls his eyes and crosses to the living room, where he flops down on the couch. Brad joins him a minute later, coffee cup in one hand, and a plate of toast in another. He  silently offers Ray a slice, who happily crunches on it, spraying crumbs and spite everywhere.

“Ray, sometimes I wonder how you managed to survive Iraq without being slaughtered by Q-Tip and eaten as bacon. The way you eat, I’m honestly surprised no one mistook you for livestock.” Brad doesn’t even glance at Ray’s overly obnoxious chewing, instead choosing to flip the TV on, where CNN blares obnoxiously.

“Thank you, Jeff. And in other news, the Don’t Ask Don’t Tell Repeal of 2010 has finally been fully implemented. President Obama will host a press conference to celebrate this historical event later this evening. It just so happens that we have a heartwarming clip taken at the Joplin Regional Airport yesterday  which I think really demonstrates just what this repeal means for many LBTQ+ servicemen.”

Ray’s stomach drops, but there’s not time to run before the clip is rolled.

The footage is clearly taken on an iPhone, and is slightly blurry, but not enough to obscure the obvious faces in front of him. In the clip, the short, dark haired man drops his backpack on the terminal floor and runs full tilt towards a tall, Viking looking man, jumping practically into his arms, and wrapping his legs around the taller man’s waist. The blonde man laughs quietly and smiles fondly down at the smaller man, but spins him in a circle anyways, Marine fatigues clear, even in the video.

Beside him, Brad goes absolutely still.

The news anchor is talking again, something about the heartwarming affection that can be seen, the obvious love between the two men. “I mean, just look at the way they look at each other,” interrupts a second news anchor, “it’s clear that they share a special bond.” The rest is drowned out by a rushing sound in Ray’s ears, who glances over to gauge Brad’s reaction, only to find him already looking at Ray.

“Brad, I…”, It’s not often that Ray Person is at a loss for words; not a comforting thought in this moment. Instead, Ray shakes his head, and bolts, leaving before he can fuck this up anymore.

“Ray! Ray! Goddamnit, you sister fucking idiot! Stop, Jesus fucking Christ!”, he can hear Brad yelling behind him, but does his best to ignore him; he certainly has practice at it.

Next time he glances at his surroundings, he’s driving ninety down the highway in his truck.

Eventually, he stops to check Google Maps, and realizes that he’s left his phone on the counter, probably in a puddle of black coffee. Miserably, he recalls that it’s probably the last time he’ll listen to Brad’s voice for a long time. He can’t even call him in a drunken haze to hear him rant, that is, if he picks up. The Iceman isn’t really one for words.

Ray finds himself at Walton Lake, where he used to swim as a kid - even when he’s not conscious, he ends up near landmarks that remind him of Brad. He laughs bitterly.

Since it’s only ten in the morning, he hunts around for a beer in the cab of his truck, and slouches down to the lake, laying underneath a tree. He figures that sleeping is his only hope of passing enough time to forget how colossally he has fucked up his life. He skips rocks for a while, and ends up watching the local kids push each other into the water. It only makes him feel worse. He suddenly recalls all the times Brad had given him that wry smile in the Humvee rolling through desolate wasteland after desolate wasteland. He was always checking in on him, “easy on the Ripped Fuel, Ray”, or an (almost) gently phrased “stay frosty, gents.” Ray drops his head between his legs; god, he is so fucked. He knows that he loves Brad, and that’s what terrifies him. It’s so much easier to throw insults back and forth, antagonize him with Avril Lavigne and Ripped Fuel Rants - he knows how Brad will react to those quirks. This… this is uncharted territory.

Finally, Ray decides that wallowing in self pity won’t accomplish anything further - going home to a Brad free house is going to hurt either way, might as well get it over with.

                                                     <GK>

He opens the door cautiously, not ready to be confronted with an empty house. He sucks in a breathe when his eyes are immediately drawn to the straight back figure sitting at the kitchen counter. Brad’s eyes meet his, and Ray is suddenly reminded that his demeanor isn’t the only reason they call him the Iceman. Quietly, he closes the door, and makes for his bedroom, hoping for as clean a confrontation as possible, but Brad is off his stool and pinning (?) him against the wall of his bedroom hall.

“No, Ray. We are going to talk about this. Like the semi-adults that the Corpse raised us to be. Do you think your disease ridden brain can handle a simple five minute conversation?” Brad says it calmly, ice laced in his voice, but the grip that he has around Ray’s wrists communicates something entirely different. He nods in response. Still, Brad makes not attempt to move them, only pinning Ray further into the wall.

“Did you know about the media coverage this morning? Is that why you refused to go on a run like a pussy bitch?” Clearly, the interrogation has begun.

Ray avoids Brad’s eyes as best he can: “What do you think, Bradley? That I was just going to drop that kind of bomb on you first thing in the morning? Oh, by the way, the Internet thinks that we’re in love, and it’s trending on Twitter and all the other god forsaken social medias that tween girls consume these days. I know you think you’re some sort of demolitions expert, but not even you’re qualified to diffuse that kind of ammunition, Brad. So fuck you, yes, I knew. And no, I didn’t say anything.”

Brad forces Ray’s chin up with one hand, while the other pins both of his wrists above his head. “Why?”, he asks simply, his eyes like chips of hard sapphire.

“Fuck you, Brad. You wanna know why? You dying to know that fucking badly? Because I knew that you finding out would ruin this,” - he jerks his chin to indicate the two of them. “But, if the Internet found out, then I guess it’s pretty fucking obvious”. Ray laughs again, a caustic sound.

“What’s obvious?”, Brad’s voice is almost a growl now, clearly beyond pissed off with Ray. “Ray?”

“That I’m fucking in love with you, that’s what.” Ray practically spits it in his face; he’s so tired of holding it in. Fuck it, if Brad wants him to ruin this with the truth, then so be it.

Brad steps back so suddenly that Ray is slammed against the wall, his head cracking painfully. He closes his eyes against the sensation, waiting for Brad to walk away, to walk out - it’s the only ending to this unfortunate series of events.

“You’re what?” The softness of Brad’s tone is the most startling aspect of the phrase to Ray - why hasn’t he walked away yet? “You’re what?”, Brad repeats, blinking almost owlishly as Ray finally looks at him.

“I’m in love with you”, Ray says flatly. What does Brad want out of this? To rub in the satisfaction that he’s managed to force his biggest secret out of him?

“Say it again”, Brad steps closer, effectively repinning Ray, who is frankly getting tired of his internal organs being punished over five treacherous words.

“I’m in love with you?” The end comes up in a question like inflection, seriously Brad, what is going on…?

Brad laughs out loud, probably the strangest turn of events in an already bizarre day; Ray is too exhausted to fight any longer, so he just rests his head against the wall.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for you to tell me”, Ray’s head snaps back up. “Seriously?”

It’s Brad’s turn to nod. “You jumped out of our Humvee screaming at Batista to back the fuck up, since apparently your mother gave you barely enough braincells to eat fucking toast, toast, Ray. That’s when I knew.” The confession is quiet, splitting the air, since Brad is only inches now from Ray’s face.

“You love me?”, the questions is hedged in hesitation, but goddamnit if Ray doesn’t want to hear it back.

The Iceman nods, but it’s all the confirmation that Ray needs. It would be easy, so easy, to bridge the gap. All Ray would have to do is lean in. Fuck it. So he does.

Brad reacts immediately, pinning both of Ray’s wrists against the wall with one massive hand, and cupping his face with the other. The kiss isn’t by any means gentle, nor is it coordinated. It’s wet, and messy, and (cliched as it might be) everything Ray imagined it would be. Ray stretches upwards to tug Brad’s lower lip into his mouth, and Brad lets out an imperceptible moan. He shoves at Ray’s t-shirt until he musters up enough coordination to lift it over his head.

“I couldn’t concentrate this morning, with you in my t-shirt”, Brad mutters against his neck. “I couldn’t stop thinking about how many ways I could think of getting it off you”. Ray groans and tilts his neck, giving Brad better access with which to suck marks along the column of his throat. When Brad scrapes his teeth along his Adam’s apple, he practically whimpers - self-respect has just hit an all time low.

Ray’s hands, which have found their way to Brad’s waist dip lower, and squeeze. He growls against Ray’s throat, and sets them on his shoulders. Ray uses the leverage to wrap his legs around Brad’s waist, laughing internally at the familiar position. “Bedroom?”, he mutters to Brad. The jerk of breathe that he takes from the query seems to be answer enough, as he bodily carries Ray to his bed, dumping him on it in the process. Brad shucks off his sweatpants and crawls up the bed, intent on getting Ray out of his jeans as quickly and (ideally) with as little finesse as possible, or so it seems to him.

As Brad curses up a small storm, fighting with the buttons like they’re grenades, Ray deftly unbuttons them, squirming indelicately out of them, and making Brad snort with laughter. Ray grins back at him, “if the early bird gets the worm, does that mean I get the sausage?”. The fond and bemused smile that Brad gives him is worth the blow to his pride that the joke costs him. Without warning, Ray flips them, positioning himself firmly between Brad’s thighs, and begins sucking at his clavicle.

He trails kisses trails down to one nipple, and scrapes his teeth across it, eliciting a moan from Brad. “Didn’t know you were a nipple man, Brad”, Ray jibes softly, choosing to divert his attention to the other aforementioned object.

“Shut up, Ray”, Brad’s words come out stilted, through clenched teeth, as he attempts to keep himself from making too much noise.

Ray merely hums, and continues his oratory exploration.

He finds that tonguing over Brad’s abs make them jump in succession, and that his belly button is surrounded by a delicate trail of white blonde hair that disappears into his navy boxers. (“Navy, Brad? What kind of Marine are you? You don’t want your nuts to be disguised in camo? It’s so sad, that I show more priority to them than you do!”)

Ray bites at Brad’s left hipbone, watching for the way his entire body jumps with pleasure at the pain. Before he can continue though, Brad has flipped them again, and beginning biting his way down Ray’s chest.

“Dude, whoa, Jesus, it’s going to look like I was attack by a wolf. Fuck Brad, fuck, fuck”, Ray can’t seem to make his mouth stop, watching Brad suck marks onto his abdomen and hip bones. He noses his way further down, pulling Ray’s boxers down with his teeth. Ray wants to make a snarky comment about the coordination that that must take, but is currently lacking the brain cells to even think, let alone speak.

It now appears Brad has pulled his boxers down far enough to bite at his inner thighs, making Ray’s cock jump, and littering his legs with messy bites. “Jesus Brad, are you some kind of fucking vampire? Fuck.” He starts to move lower, but Ray grabs his wrist before he can move. “Whoa there, Lone Ranger, we don’t have to do it all in one night, we can take it slow. Seriously. C’mere, Bradley. Come cuddle your Ray-Ray.”

“Ray, I swear you were dropped on the head as a child. No, I guarantee that if I asked your mother, she would tell me she purposely dropped you, thinking it might improve that face.” Brad seems slightly disgruntled at being interrupted from his task, but complies nonetheless. Effectively, he wraps his body around Ray’s in a pseudo cuddle position, crushing him. “Happy?”

Ray squirms and shoves until he’s pushed Brad onto his back, and is sprawled on Brad’s chest, chin propped up so he can look at him.

“We have all the time in the world, Brad. Seriously, we could not move for the next six days, and the world wouldn’t notice. Plus, who else is going to force feed me pineapple pizza?”

“Ray, if you eat anymore pizza, you’re going to gain ten pounds, develop diabetes, and then be rushed to the hospital for a coronary heart transplant. Now go to sleep, or I’ll knock you out myself.”

“You’d still hold my hand during the ambulance ride, though.” Ray Person, finally getting the guy, and the last word.

And, when the alarm clock blares at six the next morning, and Brad forces Ray to run five miles to make up for the loss of yesterday, they’ll both laugh and shove each other, and it will feel like nothing has changed. The after workout shower might now involve two bodies instead of one, but who would notice, except for them?

And, when an official invite to attend the Obama’s annual Easter Egg Hunt arrives in April, Ray will just laugh and claim that they’re Jewish and cannot attend (“bullshit Ray, we’re both atheists, stop using my parents as an excuse”), and Brad will call them exactly what they are, the poster children of DADT, big fucking stereotypes, and to many, big fucking heroes. And no, Ray is still not a rock star, but he is Internet famous, thanks to his hyper active brain, and a ten foot tall Jewish Viking. But you just heard it through the grapevine, didn’t you…?

[hotcocosharing]

Lose To Win Chapter 1: The Reunion (HLITF & KBTBB )

Title: Lose To Win Chapter 1 Fandom: Her Love In The Force & Kiss By The Baddest Bidder & Metro PD: Close To You Rated: Drama, Thriller, Angst, Fluff, Smut HLITF & MPD’s MC: Mika HIJIKATA KBTBB’s MC: Mia SAKATA Characters: Goto, Kaga, Ishigami, Soma, Ayumu, Namba, Eisuke, Soryu, Mamoru, Baba, Ota, Kirisawa Summary: Smut with Kaga! Fans of HLITF / Kaga, the game needs more love. Background: This series occurs (6 months) after the previous series Switching Places , click on the link if you’re interested or confused at any point.

Mika first encounter with them again 2 months after the fail operation, it was Baba’s birthday and it led to a 4 parts Epilogue with 3 parts smut. At last, Mika had moved and avoided all contacts with the bidders, making it clear to Mia that she couldn’t meet them under any circumstances.

Another 6 months later, she was back at the Tres Spades Hotel under Eisuke’s request. (Order) Notes: sunflowerblackrabbit / ladystar0710 / medievalbingeprincess69 / silver-red-rose / makingastar / ayaka-oh / mirandaflamel / dms-903 / vmendoza1901 / tsuki-tsundere

Special thanks to my beta reader- @nitelotus​

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

[ Another 6 months have passed since you last saw the bidders, they recently returned to Tokyo from Dubai ]

Slowly lifting your head up from a bow to another guest, you let out a sigh and impatiently pace around the lobby. It’s a quiet day at the hotel and it’s boring the hell out of you, given the fact that this isn’t even an actual mission. Six months, you’ve had complete control of you life again, solving cases, arresting criminals, interrogating suspects and occasional one night stands.

Six wonderful months with no bidders, no auctions, no Eisuke the ass or the mobster you’d finally stop thinking of. Mia has moved to Dubai with them for the new hotel and you couldn’t be happier. Until the moment Eisuke is sitting in the chief’s office and “requires” your assistance- the lucky bastard just always gets his way. However, it concerns Mia and it’s a rather easy task so why not? As long as the pervert isn’t laying his hands on her, following him and sees what he’s hiding would be a piece of cake.

Half an hour later, the target has arrived, giving you a big unpleasant grin and hugs as soon as he spots you. “I’ve got some business to attend love, then I’ll see ya at the penthouse. Would be best if we’re alone, if ya know what I mean?” You force a smile and head to his floor shortly after.  Looking through the peephole from the room across his since Eisuke has given you a master key, it doesn’t take long til he has a visitor- a man you actually recognize.

Nishimura, a drug dealer you’ve arrested quite a few times. Eisuke’s target is buying and selling drugs in his hotel, the guy must have a death wish. Just as your hands reach the doorknob, a figure appears from the shadow and kneels down in front of the door opposite, sliding a spy camera underneath. The tall man moves quickly but you’d partly make out of his face structure, those determined eyes and messy dark brown hair. You know this man, you’d recognize his back anywhere, since you’ve dug your nails into it so many times, embracing it from behind for years- his back has been your sanctuary, your very own safe place. How could you ever forget?

Returning his camera back to his inner pocket, he enters the room in no time. Seconds later, you go in to find them lying unconscious on the floor while the only man standing points a gun at you. “Hello, Kaga.”

He stares at you blankly, clearly struggles to find the right words and before you could the door is burst open, your heart almost stop. “What da fuck did ya do kid?” Soryu has already drawn his gun out and Kaga quickly aims his at the mobster, “Okay clam down, don’t shoot!” You step in between, arms out and reach for both their guns. “Eisuke ain’t gonna be happy.” Mamoru sighs while few men from the Ice Dragons comes in to carry the two unconscious men. “Please, he’s hardly ever happy.” You can’t help with the comment, Mamoru grins, “Who’s this?”

Expressionlessly as usual, Kaga sets his eyes on them, particularly Soryu. Anyone in the force would know his face, “A friend.” You mutter, “He’s coming with us obviously.” Kaga averts his questioning gaze at you with Mamoru’s words and you respond with a nod, indicating that it will be okay, what’d possibly happen now since you’ve already gone through the worst? Soryu remains silent throughout the entire time, only whispers the basics to Eisuke upon their arrival. As expected, the King is not amused. Ota and Baba’s eyes sparkle when they see you but their instinct is right, this isn’t the time to cheer and welcome you. “What happened?” His cold eyes scanning both you and Kaga, clearly irritated.

“Give me 5 minute,” You suggest, “can we borrow your office?” Pulling Kaga’s elbow towards upstairs as you hear Eisuke clicks his tongue but agrees. “5 minute, sharp.”

“Make it 10.” Kaga shrugs, “It’s a long story.”

Eisuke rolls his eyes then focuses back to his laptop, “You better get on with it then.”

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★ SMUT

Before the door has even closed Kaga holds your wrist high and spins you around, wrapping his arms around you. One inhale of his musky scent which can easily make you cry so you shake your head instead and break away, “What the hell are you doing?”

“It’s obvious, isn’t it?” His tongue slides into your mouth, seizing your voice with a wicked grin on his face. Hmmmm is the only sound you’d made, what a weak way to protest. With hands down your ass, he lifts you up and slams you against the window, making you gasp as the cool window’s glass hits your back with his lips trailing down your neck. Breaking away shortly, he rips your blouse open leaving you feeling exposed in your purple lace bra. Musing out with a smirk, his hands gropes your breasts and kisses them furiously, holding nothing back. “Fuck, I miss them!”

A dry laugh leave your mouth and your hands reach his messy hair, “We’ve only got 10 minutes.”

“Plenty of time then, we have done it in much shorter time.” His lips are moist and warm against your skin and it reminds you how much you’ve longed for this, no one else ever touches or kisses you the way he does. So rough and yet so gentle, so full of affection. Tilting your head to make way for him to kiss further down while his hands travels up and down your waist. There is no time to waste, he pulls up your skirt which you know for sure that he’d much prefer to see you fully naked, well today is not the day.

You can’t move, his fingers have somehow short circuited your mind in the best possible way, you have done it so many times and still, never a dull moment. He losses his belt as you open his shirt, revealing his toned abs. And you secretly curse in your head, that’s what you seriously miss!!! He’s so fucking hot! It’s impossible not to notice his bulge which is growing by the second, Hyogo Kaga is truly a sight to behold.

He kisses you hungrily, pushing his tongue between your lips, your body is writhing beneath his. One touch and that’s all it takes, it has always been this way with him. You feel electricity runs through your body, all there is left is passion, intense and intoxicating. Your eyes lock and you see the devilish satisfaction in his before dipping his head and licks your nipples. The motion sends a wave of desire through your very core and the next thing you know, he’s already slammed into you hard. The wave of pleasure hit you and after the first thrust he allows you some time to adjust right before he pulls out and thrusts back in.

His thrusts become faster and harder, impossible for you to keep quiet and by the looks of it, he’s doing it on purpose. “Your moan still turn me on so much.” “Harder.” You moan.

Swiping your hair to one side and bite your neck, daring to leave his mark. His thrusts become erratic and you’d hear him breathing heavily.“Are you close?” You whimper with all the strength you’ve left because he isn’t and you know it. Moving one hand down, Kaga begins circling your clit. “Let’s make you cum first.” He grins as he speeds up and that’s all you need to come undone. The orgasm is so intense that your whole body keep shivering. You give out a loud cry which he soons muffles with a rough kiss.

He keeps on thrusting but not for his own release, the on going stimulation send your mind to go blank. “Wait, I just ..”

“You haven’t moan my name yet,” he hisses and fucks harder.

“Oh god!” Squeezing your eyes shut as each thrust hits your sensitive spot over and over, “Kaga!!!” The one word put you over the edge and you come again, harder than the first. “Good to see you too, Mika.” He teases. With your legs wrap around his hip and his hands cupping your face for a long steamy kiss, the door flies open with three pair of angry eyes glaring at your direction.

Kaga gently lowers you down but your knees are failing, you’d collapse without him holding you tight. “Our 10 minutes up, I suppose?” You pinch Kaga on the arm to shut him up but the three bidders are obviously pissed. Feeling mortified and awkward, you mutter a sorry. Not entirely sure if you’re apologizing for the turn of events or the fact that your moan have proven how much more you enjoy this 10 minutes quickie than your previous encounters with these three men staring by the door.

Kaga turns around as you button up behind him, you sense the strong hostility between their gazes. And by the time you all return downstairs, a familiar cheerful voice calls out in surprise. “Oniisan ?!” (brother/brother in law)

Chapter 2 Here