#last chapter it literally took less than 10 minutes before someone left a comment

[danishdeity]

I uploaded the fourth chapter to my fic last night and ive gotten bo kudos or comments yet was it bad

[anonymousfiction211]

Hancuffed together Chapter 3: ‘Free’

Summary: Loki and you were hancuffed together, because the team was sick of the two fo you not getting along. Today they come finally back from a mission, setting you ‘free’ from Loki.  Word count: 2.579 words

Warnings: Smut, dubious consent, knifeplay, praise  A/N: I wrote another chapter, hope you like it. If you have any ideas, suggestions or comments, please let me know :)!

Click here for chatper 1 Click here for chapter 2

To say you were physically tired would be an understatement. Loki had you in a tight grip, still asleep. He had woken you two times that night to ‘play with you’ as he liked to put it. He was breaking you down. Each time you put up less of a fight and he was starting to push your boundaries. The truth is, you kind of loved what he was doing to your body. It was intense, even painful sometimes, but the pleasure was well worth it. His personality sadly hadn’t changed. He was still as arrogant, egotistic, moody, and snarky as he had always been.

You shook Loki awake, who just grumbled grumpily at you. ‘I’m hungry’ you said. He turned around to lay on his back, eyes still closed. ‘Sounds like a you-problem’ he replied. You sat up straight and tugged a few times at the cuffs. Loki sighed but got up with you. The two of you were eating breakfast in silence. Even tough you were fixing your eyes on your eggs, you felt Loki’s gaze boring into you. You were startled when the rest of the team loudly made their entrance. ‘Tony, you owe me 10 bucks’ Steve said. ‘Ho, ho, there is still time’ Tony replied. ‘So, how has the lovely couple been doing for the past two days?’ he mused. You both glared at Tony who put his hands up in defence ‘Let me rephrase, how are the two of you doing?’ he quickly said.

‘Fine’ you said irritated at Tony and Loki just nodded. ‘How was the mission?’ Loki asked. Natasha quickly explained that they were staking out and tracking some people of Hydra, but hadn’t had much luck. You were waiting impatiently until she was done. ‘So, can we take these off now?’ you asked holding up the cuffs. ‘Sure’ Steve said, motioning for Tony to take them off. ‘How do we know it worked?’ Thor asked them. Everyone looked at the two of you. ‘We’ve come to an understanding’ Loki replied for the both of you. A big smile appeared on Thor’s face ‘I say we keep them together for this day. To be sure they truly improved their behaviour’. If you could murder people by glaring at them, you had just murdered Thor. Before you could protest Loki had already agreed. If you disagreed know, they surely wouldn’t believe the two of you. ‘Can we just take them off for half an hour? So, I can take a shower?’ you asked. After the group had a quick discussion they agreed. But only if you and Loki would willingly put the cuffs back on after half an hour. If not, the two of you were on house arrest together for the rest of the month.

After you were free, even if it was for a short amount of time, you quickly walked to your room and locked the door. You got rid of your clothes and jumped into the shower. It felt good to have some alone time. After a while there was a knock on the door ‘You have 10 minutes left’ Tony said. ‘Just one more day, you can do this’ you whispered to yourself. You got out of the shower and dried yourself off. You walked back to the bedroom to get some clothes out of your closet. That’s when you saw a dark green bustier on the bed with a matching thong. There was a note next to it which elegantly spelled your name. You opened the note: See you in 10 minutes, kitten – L. There was no way you were wearing that. He could be such an asshole sometimes. You were wondering how he even got in here. You checked the door, but it was still locked. It donned on you that the both of you had your powers back. And this must be Loki’s passive aggressive way of telling you that he could go and come as he pleases.

You were absolutely furious at Loki. But two could play it this game. You got dressed and instead of the green lingerie you chose your red bra and thong. If things did get out of hand, and you had a feeling they will, he will be pissed at you for wearing his brother’s colours. After you got dressed you walked back to the living room, where Tony was already waiting with the cuffs. He had an amused smile on his face. Loki entered shortly after you, having a blank expression on his face. Tony cuffed the two of you back together and the rest of the team went about there day. You had to be honest, cuffed together with Loki was awkward at first, but now that the team was here it was a whole lot more uncomfortable.

The two of you settled down on the couch. You both were reading a book, but this time you both had different books and you were wearing more clothes than the last time Loki ‘wanted to read’. After a while Steve wanted to play a boardgame. At first you didn’t want to play, but Loki convinced you that it would be good to show the rest of the team you indeed got along. Thor and Clint joined you and you had to admit you had fun. Loki was friendly, relaxed and funny. You wondered why he wasn’t like that all the time or why you were the only person he didn’t treat like that. After dinner the whole team decided to watch a movie. You really wanted to go to bed, but would only do that once you were free.

You felt someone shaking your shoulder. You woke up and realized that you had fallen asleep during the movie. You blamed Loki for keeping you up all night. The most embarrassing thing is that you fell asleep on his shoulder. The rest of the team, except Tony, were already gone. Tony handed Loki the key and walked out of the living room. Loki grinned at you ‘Don’t for a second that when we’re not cuffed together that you’re free off me’. You sighed ‘Can’t we just leave these days for what they were?’ Loki seemed to ponder over the question, and while you were waiting for him to respond you realized, you didn’t know what response you wanted. You were holding your breath, waiting for him to answer you, which he took a long time doing. He uncuffed the two of you. You rubbed your wrist, it felt good to be free. Loki shot you a wicked grin ‘No, you are mine’

Your breath hitched and you got up, making your way back to your bedroom. To your surprise Loki wasn’t following you. You closed the door behind you, but knew he would be able to enter when he wanted to. You were startled when you heard a low voice right next to your ear ‘Going somewhere, kitten?’. You weren’t proud of it but shrieked a little. You were spun around and now facing Loki, who was towering over you with his dominant figure. ‘Or did you just forget what you agreed to yesterday?’ he purred. His eyes were sparkling full of mischief. ‘I- I said those things because you made me, I didn’t mean that’ you began to argue. ‘I think you did, you’re just too ashamed to admit it’ Loki said while smiling wickedly. You opened your mouth to tell him to get lost, but he grabbed you and slid his tongue inside of your mouth. You were getting lost in the kiss, the fight almost left you.

Then you realized you had your powers. You pushed him off you and immediately raised a shield around yourself. You thought Loki would be angry, but he seemed to be amused. A green fire bolt appeared in his hand and that’s when you realized, he also had his powers back. He shot the green bolt at you, making your shield crumble. ‘This isn’t fair’ you half yelled at him. He smile only widened, he knew it wasn’t. Your magical nature was healing, while his was that of a warrior. He was trained to fight, you were trained to help and aid. He grabbed you by your waist. You tried to form a magic bolt of your own, but when Loki bit down your neck, you lost your concentration and the bolt disappeared from your hands. He threw you down the bed. You tried to scramble away from him, but an invisible force tied your hands to the headboard. You were struggling against the invisible bonds, but they only tightened around you. ‘Stop struggling, kitten. You know you want this’ Loki sighed. ‘I don’t. Stop!’ you said to him. One of his eyebrows shot up ‘Really? You didn’t put up much of a fight’ he said. ‘I literally put a shield around me’ you argued. He just smirked at you ‘One of your weakest types of shields and you haven’t tried to paralyze me or anything. So, like I said you didn’t really fight me. We both know you want this’

With a wave of his hand Loki made all your regular clothes disappear, leaving you in nothing but your lingerie. Your red lingerie. You hadn’t seen anyone going from amused to furious so fast. The bonds on your hands tightened. Loki wasn’t saying anything to you, but his face made you absolutely terrified. You wanted to make him angry, but now that he was you felt like you made a dangerous mistake. In an instant Loki conjured up a knife and held it to your throat. ‘Looks like someone has been a very bad girl’ he growled in your ear. You started to panic, not daring to move an inch. ‘I’m sorry, I’m so sorry’ you whispered while fighting back tears. Loki was sliding the knife against the length of your throat. ‘If you’re so sorry, why do it in the first place?’ he asked you. You really wished Loki wasn’t the God of Lies right now. But since he was, you decided to just be honest. ‘I wanted to make you mad’ you said meekly. Loki laughed darkly ‘Well, you have succeeded’

‘I’m s- sorry’ you began to sob. ‘Since you’re new at this and you seem to understand the gravity of your mistake, I will let you off easy’ he purred. His hand grabbed your hair and he pulled hard, making you bare your throat to him. ‘But let me be clear, don’t let it happen again’ he said. ‘Yes’ you replied. He let go of your hair and you relaxed a bit. You felt the tip of the dagger against your throat, which made you tense up again. ‘Now, stay very still or this is going to be a very painful experience’ he commanded you. His blade travelled downwards over your chest, between your breasts. It slid effortlessly through your bra and your breast sprung free. You tried to keep your breathing even, but were startled at how sharp the knife actually was. Loki smirked when he saw your breasts and started to slide the knife around to play with them. Still extremely scared you couldn’t help that tears were running over your cheeks. When Loki looked up at you his expression changed, and you would almost say he was looking concerned.

With his other hand he strokes the tears from your face. ‘Sssh, there’s no need for that darling. You’re doing great so far. Just relax and trust me’ he told you with a soothing voice. Like it was the easiest thing to do right now. You did notice that the pressure of the knife slightly decreased. Loki was sliding the knife up and down your stomach, right above your panties. You took a deep breath and relaxed as much as you could. ‘That’s it, just submit to me’ he purred. Loki slowly cut through the sides of your panties. The sight was somehow quite erotic. The fabric fell from you and Loki withdrew the knife. ‘You did really well, kitten’ he praised you. Loki spread your legs further and placed himself in between them. The invisible bonds faltered, and you laid your hands on his chest. He gave you a smile, which you thought looked quite genuine.

He bent down to kiss you. It started out slow, but he got hungrier and started to kiss you faster. You enjoyed the way his lips felt on yours and how he tasted. You felt his hardened cock nudge at your entrance. You involuntarily bucked your hips, trying to get him inside of you. Loki chuckled darkly against your lips ‘I knew it’ he said in between his kisses. You felt him slowly pushing inside of you, making you moan very loud. Loki had left your mouth and was kissing you up and down your neck. You felt him smile against your skin when you moaned. He started to thrust in and out of you. He stopped kissing you and sat up straight. He was quick to put one of his legs over his shoulder, giving him a better angle. With every moan you made he thrusted faster inside of you. You heard him starting to mutter things under his breath, but you were too far gone to register what he was saying. His hand sought out your clit and you cried from pleasure when he started to stroke it lightly. ‘Please, Loki please make me cum’ you begged him. A little bit surprised that the words left your mouth before you could think about it. Loki seemed to be very pleased with your reaction and puts more pressure on your clit. He himself started to moan and you knew he was as close as you are. After a few more thrusts you walls clenched around his cock and you came hard. It triggered Loki’s own orgasm and you felt his seed spilled inside of you.

Loki pulled out of you and cleaned the both of you up with a hand gesture. That was an upside of Loki having his magic back you thought. He shimmered himself a pair of pyjama pants and laid down in your bed. You just stared at him ‘You’re staying?’ you asked him. He laid on his back, a hand behind his head, looking up at you. ‘Of course, I am’ he said, like you were stupid to even think otherwise. ‘I do suggest you wear something tonight, or you won’t be getting any sleep’ he purred. Not really sure how to get him out of your bed, you decided to let him sleep in your bed for this one time. You grabbed your own pyjama from underneath your pillow. It existed of a pair of black shorts and a red top. You were staring at the top and back at Loki. He was having an amused look on his face, wondering what you were going to do. After you put on the shorts you still were holding the red top. Loki cocked an eyebrow, giving you a ‘really?’-look. When you saw it you quickly threw the top on the ground and got under the blankets with him. He pulled you close so your head was on his chest. ‘Good girl’ he whispered. You snuggled closer to him when he said that, hearing him chuckle. He started to stroke your back and play with your hair, making you fall asleep fast.  

[emy-loves-you]

Wrong Numbers and Useless Gays Chapter 15

Sandwiches and Self-Jealousy

Chapter 14 | Masterlist | Chapter 16

Warnings: Jealousy, half-lying, mentions of abandonment issues

Virgil shot up, surprised by Janus slamming the door upstairs. He stared at his phone. What was he supposed to do? He’s been flirting with his 3 crushes as Anxiety, and they don’t know that he’s Anxiety. Virgil sighed, gathering up what courage he had left. Might as well gather intel.

V- (1:10 PM) You’ve been flirting with THE Anxiety?!?

L- (1:10 PM) More like he was flirting with us.

P- (1:11 PM) You know Anxiety, Kiddo?

V- (1:11 PM) Yeah, I’m a fan of his

V- (1:11 PM) Are you sure that he’s flirting? Last I heard he was dating his bandmates

L- (1:12 PM) He said that he was flirting with me, but I don’t think he means it as a romantic gesture. He seemed more interested in my consent than my unavailability.

V- (1:12 PM) Wait, why were you guys okay with each other flirting with strangers?

R- (1:13 PM) We might all have the teensiest tiny crush on him

Virgil felt his cheeks heat up. They all had crushes on Anxiety? What was Virgil supposed to do with that information? Should he ignore it? Or should he try and be more serious with them as Anxiety, to see if he has a chance as a rockstar instead of a faceless friend?

Virgil suddenly felt something stirring in his gut. It took a few moments to recognize the feeling: Jealousy. Virgil had been pining after his crushes for months. He was not losing his chance to a person they’d only known for a week. Sure, that person was also Virgil, but it was the principle of it, Dammit! Virgil thought about it. While it would be easier to date them as Anxiety, he’d much rather date them as Virgil. Maybe I can give myself a leg-up through Anxiety. Virgil thought about it for several more minutes. This could work. Finally smiling, Virgil turned back to his phone.

V- (1:20 PM) Okay, you guys wanna get closer to Anxiety?

V- (1:20 PM) How does VIP tickets to their next concert sound?

R- (1:21 PM) SERIOUSLY?!?

R- (1:21 PM) YES PLEASE!

P- (1:22 PM) You don’t have to, Kiddo!

V- (1:22 PM) The concert’s on February 17th. Consider it a Valentine’s Day gift from me to you guys.

L- (1:22 PM) The concert is in less than 3 weeks. How do you have VIP tickets? Were you intending on using them, Virgil?

V- (1:23 PM) No, I just know a few people

V- (1:23 PM) By the way, where did you find that album, Lo?

L- (1:23 PM) I am at home right now due to nasopharyngitis. A coworker of mine dropped this off as an early birthday present. He said that I might find it useful. I assume that he saw Anxiety visiting me at the library and recognized him.

Virgil sighed. He’d have to pay more attention. He’d dropped his guard down when interacting with them. He didn’t want anyone else recognizing him.

R- (1:25 PM) Well, I must take my leave. I have lunch with Anxiety today, so I will inform him of our situation.

P- (1:25 PM) DON’T TELL HIM ABOUT OUR CRUSH ON HIM!

R- (1:25 PM) I WON’T!

Virgil swore, getting up. He’d completely forgotten about his lunch with Hottie/Roman. He quickly grabbed his stuff before running out the door. He sent a quick text to Janus, telling him that he had left. He speed-walked to the sandwich shop that Roman liked, ordering the same sandwich that Roman ordered every time, as well as one for himself. Before he knew it, he was standing outside of the theatre, sandwiches in hand. He sat there, remembering what he wanted to say to Roman. Roman soon walked out, a nervous yet somewhat awe-struck look on his face.

Flirt Mode: Activated

“Hey, Hottie. Ready for sandwiches and banter?” Anxiety held out the sandwich, a teasing glint in his eyes.

“We need to talk.” Anxiety startled slightly. He knew that Roman wanted to talk to him about his identity, but he didn’t think that he’d be this direct.

“Sure, mind if we sit down? My back is killing me.” They sat down on the sidewalk, uncomfortable silence between them. Anxiety opened his mouth to break the tension. “So-”

“I know you’re Anxiety.” Roman’s voice was soft, softer than Anxiety ever remembered it being. He stared down at the concrete. “And I know that I’m not the only person that you’re flirting with. You’ve actually been flirting with my 2 boyfriends. I just thought you should know that I knew before we continued anything. I don’t want to trick you or lie to you.”

Anxiety felt a wave of guilt overcome him. He shouldn’t be leading them astray like this. But what could he say? Hey, I’m also the guy that’s been texting you for the past 7 months. Hope this doesn’t pressure you into liking me. Anxiety mentally shook his head. No, he couldn’t do that. But he also couldn’t fully lie to them. Maybe some half-lies would make it better?

“I already knew.” Roman’s eyes shot up.

“How? We just figured it out today!”

“Apparently you told my friend too. Unless he made up the exact same story when he asked for the VIP tickets?” There, Virgil can be Anxiety’s friend. Close enough to where it would make sense for Anxiety and Virgil to know things that they shouldn’t, while far enough to draw away suspicion.

Roman’s jaw dropped. “You know Virgil?”

Anxiety nodded, taking a bite out of his sandwich. “Mmhm. He’s a good friend of mine. He sometimes goes on tour with us.”

Before Anxiety could even blink, he suddenly had a face full of Roman. “What’s he like?”

Anxiety stared, dumbfounded. “What?”

Roman huffed, the light never leaving his eyes. “Virgil. What’s he like? I’ve been talking to him for months, but we’ve never met face-to-face. So, what’s he like?”

It took a few moments for Anxiety to talk again. He wanted to know about Virgil? Not the literal rockstar in front of him? “Well, he’s sarcastic, for one (yep). He likes to spend money on people he cares about (you, Logan, Patton). He bounced around the foster system for a while, but I don’t know why (why didn’t anyone want me?). He has really bad anxiety (hence the persona), so he doesn’t go to any of my concerts (not as Virgil). He talks about you a lot (I can’t stop myself. I bring at least one of you up in every conversation I have with J and Re).”

“He does?” He looked so… happy? Hopeful? Unsettled? Virgil couldn’t tell.

“Yeah, he’s always blabbering about what you said that day or what he’s planning on getting you (not a lie). So, now that you know what I think of him, now it’s your time to spill. Who’s Virgil to you?”

Roman suddenly had a strange look on his face. Anxiety couldn’t name the emotion in his eyes. “Virgil is… different. He has such a cynical view of the world, yet he still makes lighthearted puns. He’s doesn’t want to meet us in person, yet he spends so much money on us. He can’t bake for shit, and he sends adorable apology chocolates when he thinks we’re upset. He loves Halloween and Disney. He listens when we need someone to talk to, and he rambles off random facts when we need a distraction. He comforts Patton when he’s sad. He makes Logan laugh after a tiring day, even if Lo plays it off as exasperation. He calms me down when I think that the world’s against me.” He sighed. “I wish he trusted us enough to let us meet him. I respect his wishes, but it’s hard, y’know? Trusting someone that you’ve never met.”

Anxiety felt another wave of guilt, this one even stronger. He opened his mouth before thinking. “I’m sure he’ll open up to you soon.”

“Really?!” Roman looked up, with so much… joy, and hope, and that same emotion that Anxiety couldn’t name. He recognized it somewhere, but he couldn’t remember where.

Anxiety smirked, internally screaming. “Of course. You think I’d lie about something like that? He just needs to build up his confidence first. Once he does, he’ll be dying to meet ya.” His smirk softened to a half-smile. “And from what I’ve seen so far from you, Angel, and Starlight, he won’t be disappointed.” Anxiety checked the time on his phone. “Well, your lunch ends in 2 minutes, and I’ve gotta go. See ya later, Hottie.” And with that, Anxiety stood up and walked away.

Virgil was surprised that his comment about opening up didn’t make him feel guilty. Instead, he felt… relieved? Hopeful? He couldn’t tell. But it felt like a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. I do have to tell them eventually. Might as well promise it. Pressure myself into actually doing it.

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Taglist: @bisexualdisaster106 @self-taught-mess @itawalrus @arodynamic-enby @sanderssides-angst

[amyscascadingtabs]

2020 in writing

tagged by the wonderful @feeisamarshmallow and @b99peraltiago! thank you, this took me seriously three hours but it was fun. 

tagging whoever has three hours to spare!! but i’d love to see @amydancepants-peralta, @letsperaltiago, @johnny-and-dora, and @fezzle do this, although no pressure because this took me the entire evening. 

1. List of works published this year

oh god this is going to take forever...

i’ll walk through hell with you, chapter 5, 6 & 7

all the kingdom lights shined just for me and you

a single kiss and i’m under your spell

paper cut stings from our paper-thin plans

dust off your highest hopes

i can’t see the future, but i know that it’s there

look now, the sky is gold

look at where we are, look at where we started

bracing for the winds i always summon

just know that i’m already home

there’s magic everywhere you go

we’ve found a love to cross the ages

all my days, i’ll know your face

hell was the journey but it brought me heaven

(three times ‘cause) i’ve waited my whole life

if devotion is a river, then i’m floating away

when all your heroes get tired (i’ll be something better yet)

evermore

i am not a stranger to the dark

in the cracks of light, i dreamed of you

rare as the glimmer of a comet in the sky

21 works!! 

2. Work you are most proud of (and why)

I am really really proud of finishing i’ll walk through hell with you, that’s still one of the highlights in my writing “career”. bracing for the winds i always summon and (three times ‘cause) i’ve waited my whole life, because they were both longer works with a lot of introspection that focused a lot on jake and amy’s feelings about upcoming parenthood. especially the last one I still love dearly. i’m also really proud of the fics i wrote all from rosa’s perspective (paper cut stings from our paper-thin plans and when all your heroes get tired (i’ll be something better yet)).

3. Work you are least proud of (and why)

none! I guess a few of them are shorter and written way quicker than some others, but I always take that into consideration when “evaluating” how proud I am of them so no. personally, I’m proud of everything in different ways. 

4. A favourite except of your writing

referring to the creator tag meme for this where I posted excerpts from the five works I’m most proud of!

5. Share or describe a favourite review you received

questions like these remind me that I need to start saving my favorite reviews somewhere! that’s a goal for 2021, haha. but every comment that have listed their favorite moments in the fic I reread like five times over and smile every time, and all the comments people left me on the last chapter of i’ll walk through hell with you were so wonderful. and the rosa fic. and the -

you know what, I just started reading through old comments and I can’t pick one, it feels too unfair to all the other incredible ones I ’ve gotten. so. all of them!!!! I love you guys!!

I will mention this one that someone sent me in the middle of summer, during a period when I wasn’t writing or publishing so it ended up meaning that much more for that reason as well. comment on look at where we are, look at where we started (in the brief period of time when we thought peraltiago baby would be named Leo)

“Idk why, but the way Jake was talking to Leo made me wonder if my parents ever talked to me like that right after I was born. I've been told the story of my birth every birthday since I was born, so I know it by heart, but despite the countless Peraltiago baby fics and other fandom baby fics I've read, this is the one that made me wonder what my parents were thinking when I was born. And then it made me wonder what I'm gonna think when I give birth to a kid, or if I adopt a kid.” like, I was just so floored that something I wrote made someone reflect so deeply on their own life. and I want to underline that I have so so many favourite reviews but yes, this one stuck with me!

6. A time when writing was really, really hard

this summer was the hardest it’s ever been. first the (rightful) hesitance and reflection that followed the BLM protests and then some trauma and deep depression added onto that for me was… yeah. it took a really long time to find real joy in it again. 

7. A scene of characters you wrote that surprised you

Jake and Rosa’s friendship in i am not a stranger to the dark! I’ve written a bit of Rosa and Amy and feel quite comfortable with their friendship and dynamic but far less of Jake and Rosa! 

“At least this is still way better than... that.” “Literally everything is better than prison.” “True that.” Rosa looks up at the tv, realizing she’s missed at least ten minutes of the movie already. “I’m glad we got out.” “Sometimes it still feels like a part of me didn't,” Jake says, quietly. “You ever feel that way?” “Sometimes,” she admits. “We did, though. That's what's important.”

Rosa can hear someone talking in the background on the other end, and Jake mumbling something back in reply. “I have to go,” he tells her, and it makes her a little sad, because he's good company. “I can't miss dinner. Wouldn't want to piss off the entirety of my fiancées family before I’ve even married her, right?”

8. How did you grow as a writer this year?

I wrote more Rosa! that’s probably the single thing which helped me grow most, because she’s arguably a much harder character to write than Jake and Amy, since most of the time you really have no clue what she’s thinking. I have to think a lot harder about how Rosa thinks and feels and reacts to things and I feel like that makes me a better writer overall. 

9. How do you hope to grow next year?

I don’t have any big expectations tbh. I know next year is going to take so much of my energy “”professionally”” or well, study-wise, so I think it’s the wrong year to set ambitious creative writing goals for me. then there’s also the inevitable fact that I’ve written a whopping ninety-nine stories for this show now and I’m always asking myself for how long it will last. there was a point in april-may where I thought it was going to be the end and during the entire summer as well. so… we’ll see. I don’t have any WIP I’m aching to finish right now. 

10. Who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer or beta of cheerleader or muse etc. etc.)?

@fezzle, @johnny-and-dora, @vernonfielding, @amydancepants-peralta, @feeisamarshmallow, @amazingsantiago and @letsperaltiago all deserve their own shoutouts here for various reasons!! (if you want to know more about why just message me!) 

11. Anything from real life show up in your writing this year?

always, in different ways in how I relate to the characters and different feelings and moments and experiences that would take way too long to explain. but if I could choose one fic it would be paper cut stings from our paper-thin plans. I worked through a lot of feelings about a breakup I went through in this one and they were ones I hadn’t really had the chance to let myself feel before writing this. It isn’t similar to how my breakup went, at least I didn’t mean for it to be and haven’t put any intentional similarities in there (although I guess there are a few if you look for them) but some of the things Rosa thinks, says and feels after being broken up with were quite personal. i am not a stranger to the dark and the way it focuses on healing after trauma was also partly personal although way much less obviously so because the experiences are quite different lol.

12. Any new wisdom you can share with other writers?

make writer friends! talk to other writers! you’ll both learn so much and it makes writing and developing fics so much more fun!

13. Any projects you’re looking forward to starting (or finishing) in the new year

I currently have zero WIP and zero real plans so genuinely who knows. all depends on what my life will look like and what s8 will bring us! 

14. If you could recommend only one work from yourself published this year

all the favourite five, but maybe when all your heroes get tired (i’ll be something better yet). I think it’s a great complement to the Rosa and Amy action we saw in season 7 and it has a lot of peraltiago from someone else’s viewpoint as well. 

15. Year word count

are you kidding meeeee okay here we go.

okay, so adding everything I’ve published this year together… 111 283 words.

😳 😳 😳 

DEAR GOD.

additional trivia: the shortest fic was 651 words (evermore), the longest if you exclude the three chapters of i’ll walk through hell with you (they are 24.6k together though) (three times ‘cause) i’ve waited my whole life, and the average word count for a fic of mine this year was 5 299 or 4 838 words, depending on whether you count the chapters of i’ll walk through hell with you as one or three works. that makes sense because i feel like i’ve written a loot of fics around that length this year! 

[capricornus-rex]

Someone Left to Save (9)

Cal Kestis x Reader

Requested by Anon

Summary: The Mantis crew arrives to the capital of Ulfin, in the planet of Pevera, under siege. They meet the local rebel cell spearheaded by the former Republic admiral, Jax Beneb, who seeks to destroy the Empire’s occupation that was aggressively imposed upon while exploiting the planet of its natural resources. A plan is devised to destroy the Imperial’s main base of operations—as well as their influence—in the planet; however, it was a do-or-die mission that you and Cal had gotten yourselves caught in.

A/N: I’m trying to come up with ways on how to write and publish like I normally would. Good thing I have a few spare tech I can use!

Tags: Force-Sensitive! Reader, Inquisitor! Reader, Jedi! Reader, Fake Death, Jedi turned Inquisitor, Seduction to the Dark Side, Turn to the Dark Side, The Dark Side of the Force, Aftermath of Torture, Torture, Psychological Torture, Redemption Arc! Reader, Possible Redemption, Premonitions | Additional tags (also TW): Destructive habits, Depressed! Cal

Also in AO3

Chapters: 1 – 2 – 3 – 4 – 5 – 6 – 7 | Previous: Part 8 | Next: Part 10 | Masterlist

9 of ?

The forgers at the Imperial armory fashioned your mask with a hybrid of square and triangular accents. Meanwhile, you donned the ash-gray ensemble that goes underneath your armor plates. In the set, you’re granted a pair of pauldrons, gauntlets, greaves to go with the calves of your pants, and a breastplate with a red stripe along at the hem. They all fitted like a glove.

The piece de resistance is all that’s left.

You watched the Imperial armor technician weld and solder the helmet until it morphed into their ideal, desired shape. Sparks flew, shimmered to light the room, and then die out almost instantly. Bit by bit, you’re starting to see his artistic vision realized.

“I do not discriminate. Newcomer or otherwise, I put a lot of attention to detail in all of my crafts,” the technician thought out loud, perhaps sensing your curiosity and worry that it might not look as good as the others.

“I’m sure you do, considering how many we are right now,”

“It doesn’t matter to me whether there’s dozens of you. I can make one unlike the other—always.”

He harrumphed a scoffing laugh as a response, taking pride in his declaration before continuing.

The armor technician has finished the shaping phase, next he lets it sit for a minutes before cooling it with vapor. You watched the whole process with great intent and curiosity, at the same time, it’s as though you’re watching your new face being created right in front of your very eyes.

He gingerly took the helmet in both of his hands, cradling it with an esteemed carefulness—treating it with royalty and high regard, for crafting an Inquisitor’s mask was a heavy yet rewarding task to complete. This particular forger was an expert crafter, he hand-designed and sculpted most if not all Inquisitors’ helmets and masks. Feeling the weight of yours in his hands, he carefully stepped away from his smelter and toward you; like a monarch’s crown, he presented it to you and inched it closer for you to take it.

“Twelfth Sister,” addressed the armorer.

The gloss of the duraplast once cooled distorted your reflection on its convex surface. A part of you doesn’t recognize this face, the other acknowledges it but doesn’t accept the reality—at least not yet.

From the armorer’s hand to yours, the helmet rests in its rightful owner’s grasp. You hoist it to the top of your head and then lowered it once you’ve aligned it. One moment, your eyes were shrouded by black, and then the next thing you know you’re seeing red—literally—through the visor of your helmet, though you see things as clearly as you’d normally do.

“It’s a perfect fit,” you said blankly, although the comment delighted the armorer very much.

He bowed and returned to the front of his smelter, he’d afford small glimpses of you getting used to the helmet. From your end, there were functions that you’re new to—such as infrared scanning—and there were buttons disguised as accents on the side of the mask that respond to these features.

“Interesting,” you mouthed to yourself, not caring whether the armorer heard it or not.

You tried breathing through the mask, fortunately for you, this won’t hinder the strenuousness of your fighting style—let alone movements in general—as well as catching your breath. For a moment, it’s as though the same world was unraveled before you with brand new eyes—ones that stopped fighting the hatred and used it as strength, rage that blinds yet helps you see with great clarity, the intoxication to power was a permanent leech on your skin and you relished it.

Now completely outfitted in your Inquisitor’s garbs, you make your exit out of the armorer’s chamber and head out to join your “brothers and sisters” in conference. Being the newest, therefore the lowest in rank, the crew and Stormtroopers have mixed feelings about you—though you could care less.

They looked at you with curious yet skeptical eyes as you strode past them. You arrived in the conference hall, heads turned to the door at the sound of the sharp, metallic buzz and then revealed you standing on the other side.

“Ah, the newbie, right on time!” the male Twi’lek Inquisitor chirped, his pointed porcelain white teeth standing out of his glistening, obsidian-black skin.

You stepped in, took that one gap in the line and seemed to have closed the circle surrounding the holotable. You didn’t miss much of the briefing, though they picked up where they left, you intently studied all the holographs that are flashed on the table: battle tactics, ship routes, and person profiles. You listened to the Second Brother explain everything down to the last detail; you saw what kind of person  he is when the two of you aren’t swinging your sabers at each other’s neck, trying to kill one another.

The next part of his presentation included a whole collection of head shots. He explains that they are the current, surviving Jedi across the galaxy. The images of unnamed faces encircled the holotable and slowly rotated for each and every one to see. Below their portraits are short, bulleted write-ups of the latest reports about them: be it last known locations, current agendas, potential accomplices, and recent activities.

After the one you’re looking at, the next one made you quiver in your armor—you can spot that splash of red hair, a naïve freckled face, that boyish charm and a scrapper’s roguishness from a parsec away.

Cal’s head shot rotated and froze right in front of you; blank, jade eyes blending in with the fluorescent blue of the holograph as it stared through your helmet’s visor.

The most crucial part of your past life stares back at you.

The male Twi’lek, namely the Fourth Brother, noticed you in the corner of his eye, sensed your uneasiness and discovered your intrepidity replaced with a sudden, dramatic loss of self-confidence. The Second Brother continued his exposition.

“According to our latest intel, these are the Jedi currently in hiding. Some of them are so bold enough to join factions, such as the traitor—the former admiral Jax Beneb who made with a faction in Ulfin,”

“This one, Cal Kestis, joined them not too long ago. He travels with the Mantis crew comprised of its pilot, a Lateron named Greez Dritus, the right-hand and former Jedi Cere Junda, and… er… a witch. We don’t know the latter’s background, we can only confirm she’s Dathomirian.”

“She’s called a Nightsister,” you corrected the Second Brother.

“He and his crew got themselves involved with the uprising in Ulfin,” the Fifth Brother continued.

“Until the Imperial fortification was bombed—no thanks to Twelfth Sister right here.” The Seventh Sister finished with a voice of chagrin and sarcasm.

There were soft gasps and quiet murmurs amongst the other Inquisitors who apparently had no prior knowledge.

“In my defense, I wasn’t one of you that time,” you dryly chuckled before adding. “Took a few good voltages before you broke me, eh Seventh Sister?”

Feeling outclassed, Seventh Sister rolled her eyes and avoided eye contact from you. The sight of her furrowed eyebrows and the crease on the side of her nose warranted a satisfied, mischievous smirk. You bobbed your head at an angle while the next head shot proceeded, and then Cal’s image rotated to the female red-skinned humanoid with cropped brown hair on your left—this one is known as the Eighth Sister.

Second Brother continued with his plan, catching everyone’s attention by clearing his throat and getting back to the objective at hand. The point was to fan out to selected planets and systems where the Jedi stragglers ought to be and hunt them down—which is their original prerogative ever since the Inquisitorius was formed. Before anyone else could call it, you pressed a button which prompted the ring of head shots to spin wildly until the picture of Cal glows right in front of you.

“I’ll find him, along with Cere Junda,”

“Pheh! Hey, who says you get to have first dibs?!” the Eighth Sister screeched.

“Do you know them like I do?” you raised your voice against her and you were met with a stifled silence due to the lack of a good answer. “You’d be more productive in recovering junk parts salvaged by Jawas than finding the Mantis crew and the Jedi boy!”

The same silence hung around the holotable. You seem to have a knack in making anyone who spoke against you to hold their tongues. It seems everyone was waiting for you to elaborate on your rationale.

“I know the pilot’s flying tactics as well as Cere Junda’s technical tinkering that go hand-in-hand. The Nightsister is not to be underestimated lest you won’t be meeting her good side; and her powers exceed urban legend—she can cloak a ship like a normal cloaking device would, she can raise the dead, she can bury you alive six feet under without even touching a hair on you. That’s how potent her magick is. The boy, on the other hand, I know the most—his fighting, his emotions. Point is: I’m the best chance in finding them.”

You glanced left and right, searching for an objecting reaction from the Seventh Sister and Fifth Brother, and then looked straight into Second Brother’s eyes.

“And you can’t deny that, Second Brother. So do the two right beside you.”

The rest of the Inquisitors turn to the Second Brother for his reply, he gave in and he cannot deny that cold, hard fact—that you were once in connivance with these people. And so, you’re granted with your chosen targets; the others followed suit in selecting which Jedi to go after.

—–

Cal wakes up in a cold sweat again. It has become a frequent occurrence, an unwanted habit that he’s trying so hard to kill.

The weeks turned into months, he’s honestly lost count that he had to ask someone else.

They’ve moved on from Jax Beneb’s rebel faction and went off-world. At first, it was difficult convincing the boy that they had to go and leave the planet, as there’s nothing coming back to him as much as he hoped, and whatever he’s waiting for is just dead air. He had developed a destructive habit of drowning himself in trances—he’s practically returned to where he was before: where he loses control in meditation, doing so has distorted his subconscious vision; he eats only once a day—sometimes not at all—and locks himself up in his room. BD-1 is his only companion through and through, but not even the tiny droid can get a word out of the Jedi boy.

The bracelet, your bracelet, is now worn around his wrist; but in the first time he’s secured it on his arm, the leather cord felt like it was burning and searing through his skin, but when others would take a look at it there’s nothing out of the ordinary. The metal pendant, with the scorch marks obscuring the finish, felt like a red-hot branding iron on his arm, his hand twitched and jerked, yet he couldn’t bring himself to swat away or rip the trinket off.

He hated the pain, but it was the only comfort he knew of remembering you by.

A self-imposed penance.

He blames himself for not coming sooner to get you out.

“[Y/N] would hate to see you like this, Cal,” Merrin started to scold.

There was nothing the Nightsister got out of the Jedi.

When he looked at her straight in the eye, she flinched; and then she got a closer look of the sorry state he’s in—there were dark circles around his eyes, the swelling and the redness of the lining of his eyes suggested restless nights whiled away with crying, untreated cuts and bruises spotted his knuckles and the damning evidence is the small yet noticeable streaks of blood on the gray walls.

“Merrin, I can’t crawl out of the grave that I’ve dug for myself,” Cal shuddered, his voice muffled as his mouth was blocked by his knees folded and drawn to his chest. “I know she’s still here. And I’m talking like the sentimental kind, no, I really know. You have to believe me. You all must think I’m crazy.”

“You don’t see or hear any of us saying so,”

“I know, I just… I don’t know if I’m imagining overthinking it but I just feel like you guys are only humoring me,”

“I don’t do that kind of thing, Cal, it’s not in my nature,” Merrin shook her head. “But I miss [Y/N] too. More than you’d like to know.”

Cal sighed and didn’t speak further. Merrin dismissed herself out of his bedroom and reminded him that Cere had left a plate of dinner for him before closing the door. When he was left alone again, he hung his head low and ran his fingers through his loose, unkempt hair.

He had been alone for most of his life, but this was a different kind of loneliness—one that he isn’t entirely used to. The emptiness, the silence, and the depression bore an alien, coldly terrifying air that hung heavily around his bedroom. The engine hum drowned out his sobbing as he tucks himself away in bed, deliberately forgetting his meal outside.

Cere feels all of that grim emotion pooling inside that room, she wonders how much of those feelings will she pick up if she opens that door—could she take it? Will she be overwhelmed? These were the questions she asked herself.

“Give him some more time. I don’t think he needs us right now, Cere,” Greez glumly said, stopping her in her tracks in any attempt of consoling Cal.

Cal could not sleep—another problem he’s dealing with. He lies with his back flat on the bed, tears trickle down his temples and pools on his pillow just below his ears, he feels like he’s nestled in his deathbed. He can close his eyes, but he cannot catch a wink of sleep. Sometimes, he mistakes dreaming for meditation—of the other way around.

As the meeting pronounced adjourned, they scrambled out of the conference hall while you’re left alone. Arms crossed with one another, you stared at the set of head shots you projected on the table—Cal and Cere. Even though you know them so well, you wondered what kind of information the spies have written about them in their reports.

Your eyes trailed to the write-ups for each profile.

CAL KESTIS

Last known location: Ulfin City in Pevera, Goltan System

Potential accomplices: Cere Junda, Greez Dritus (shipmate), unidentified Dathomirian female

Recent activity: Involvement in rebel-initiated terrorist assault

Charges: Conspiracy and acts of terrorism against the Empire

CERE JUNDA

Last known location: Ulfin City in Pevera, Goltan System

Potential accomplices: Cal Kestis, Greez Dritus (shipmate), unidentified Dathomirian female

Recent activity: Involvement in rebel-initiated terrorist assault

Charges: Conspiracy and acts of terrorism against the Empire

You sighed as you finished reading through the facts of their profiles. You turn away from the holotable and stand in front of the mirror that oversees the operations happening outside the Fortress in Mons Golotha. It’s originally a spice mine owned by a crime syndicate who capitalized in the illegal spice trade, but since the occupation and establishment of the Fortress Inquisitorius, the propriety was handed over to the Empire.

Through the window you watch the moving specks that are the people slaving away to harvest the raw, unprocessed spice, loading them into crates and then into freighters. But the turmoil of these pitiful workers weren’t your focus, you’re channeling it to finding Cal’s connection in the Force and through the Force. The storm in your mind has calmed for a time, allowing you to think and meditate clearly; even in the darkness, you see a light at the end of the path. You pursue it, as you run towards it like an excited, curious child you utter his name.

Cal…

His eyes shot up, he was on the verge of falling asleep already until he heard his name in the distance. He sat up, surveyed the bedroom and found nothing. He shrugged it off as nothing and decided to lie back down… but the voice called again.

Cal...

Now this time, he recognizes the voice. He bolted up.

“[Y/N]?!” he gasped.

Where are you?

“Where are you?”

You didn’t answer, one question led to another.

I need to find you. Tell me where you are.

“I… I’m in—”

“So, Twelfth Sister! How’s the hunt coming along?”

The boisterous Fourth Brother interrupted you and deprived you of the most vital part of your plan. He barges right into your personal space; before he could utter another word, you grabbed him in a chokehold using the Force and slammed him against the window wall. The impact was so hard that a crack appeared right behind his head almost like an icy halo.

The grit of your teeth hissed out the words, “What. Do you. Want?”

He gurgled his words but turned out into frothy noises, you saw him tap for submission on the glass and his ankles buckling.

“What is it that you have to say that is so important that you had to interrupt me and my meditation!?”

“I…. Guhhkk! Wanted to ask if… aagghhk! You plan to go alone!”

You released the Twi’lek, he fell to his knees coughing and clutching his neck.

“I work alone. Go.”

You turn away and wait for the Fourth Brother to leave your sight. Despite calling each other brother and sister, there was no filial connection amongst one another; simply put, it was only tolerance and putting up with each other’s bull. You, on the other hand, hate everyone. Some of them may have not played a part on your turning, but you can’t help but remain hostile towards them—the Eighth Sister deduced that it’s a normal feeling when you’re the fledgling of the Inquisitorius.

You leave the room and make for the hangar to your TIE Fighter.

Meanwhile, Cal was met again with silence and the ecstasy he felt in hearing your voice—even just in his head—died with his melting smile. He sighed and slipped under his sheets again, his heart ached as he coaxed himself to sleep.

Another long night awaits.

[marinaaniseed]

Dark ‘n’ Stormy, Pt. 11

Summary: It’s the day after the stuffing chapter. New Asgard decides which system of government it wants. Not much smut, an awful lot of politics.

Length: 6.9k. A more sensible person than me might try to edit this down, but honestly, I feel like you’d all be horribly disappointed if I didn’t write all the words.

Warnings: Eh the usual. Kinky food stuff, smut, drinking, swearing, mental health wonkiness, Asgardian politics, body shaming, intrusive media, social media shittiness, uncomfortable family relationships, mentions of starting a family, mentions of dead characters, smutty pictures, some ridiculously long speeches that might give you feels. I think that’s it.

Notes: This chapter, quite literally, took months to write. Apologies, therefore, if it’s a bit disjointed or I contradict myself. This bad boy is now over 50k in total (!) It took a while, because I couldn’t quite decide how I wanted it to go. Also, writing a story a day for the entire year is quite time consuming and a really fucking terrible idea. Typos and errors are all my own but please alert me to anything spectacularly bad so I can fix. I’ve not given this any distance, so I am hella word-blind.

Also, one of you gets a mention :P

Need a reminder of what’s happened? Pt. 10 & the masterlist.

If you like what I do, please let me know.

It wasn’t the cockerels crowing that woke you, but the dogs excitedly greeting someone.

“Whuh time issit?” you mumbled into Thor’s hair, your hand resting on his still full tummy as you spooned the sleepy Thunder God.

“Too early.”

He wasn’t wrong. Groggily you pulled yourself away, rummaging around for something to throw on so you could investigate who your visitor was.

Opening the bedroom door, you spied the Valkyrie crouched down by the settee, rubbing Geri’s tummy.

“Why?” you asked, not really awake enough to form a proper question.

“Why what?” Valkyrie responded, continuing to fuss the dog at her feet.

“Why are you here? Now? At this godforsaken time?”

“Has Thor forsaken this time in particular?”

Your glare said it all.

“I jest, sorry. Have you been online? Checked your phone? Seen or heard the news?”

“For fuck’s sake, Brunnhilde,” you said, startling the dogs and finally rousing Thor, “I’ve literally just gotten up. Because of you. When would I have done any of that? And why does it matter?”

“I’ll make the coffee, you go get Thor.”

You’d barely turned and taken a step, when you collided with the solid mass that was your lover.

“What’s wrong? Why is the Valkyrie here?” he asked, holding you to his stomach.

“Not a fucking clue.”

You weren’t exactly a morning person. Even less so after a few cocktails, and when your awakening had been rude. Not the good kind of rude, either. Thor knew, from prior experience, that waking you unexpectedly was like deciding to disturb a wasp’s nest. Nothing good would come of it and it wasn’t something you’d likely repeat in a hurry. You were a surly, venomous grump, sure to sting whatever had disturbed you.

Either Brunnhilde was more foolhardy than he thought, or something was seriously wrong.

Brunnhilde returned to find you slouched on the settee, buried in Thor’s hoodie with the hood pulled up and over, almost to the point of covering your eyes, in a vain attempt at ignoring the world. The steaming mug of caffeine placed on the table next to you was met with a snort of derision, and it was with no small amount of trepidation that Thor sat next to you, before pulling you onto his lap. Maybe whatever had brought the Valkyrie would concern only him, and you could doze off against his chest.

“Did you enjoy your pizza last night?” Brunnhilde asked, breaking the frosty silence.

“Yes,” Thor smiled at the memory. “How did you know we had pizza?”

“That’s what brought me here. I’m sorry it’s so early.”

Why would pizza have brought her here, Thor wondered. Did she need a recipe? Did she have some left over? Was she planning to open a pizza place in New Asgard?

“Someone… someone, erm, they snapped some pictures of you. The two of you. In the restaurant. They must’ve recognised you.”

“So?” Thor queried softly, hoping that you had begun to return to sleep in his arms.

“Well, they sold them to some media people. You’re, erm, trending on Twitter. I wanted to tell you before you saw for yourselves, some of the reporting is… unflattering.”

Yeah. Thor could already picture it. Being fat and in the public eye was just a magnet for the worst kind of people.

“If they’ve worked out who Y/N is, it’s not been published yet, but it’s only a matter of time,” Brunnhilde continued.

“Ah, balls,” you said, finally joining the conversation.

“Indeed. A few months back, I asked some friends to do some digging on you. Don’t be alarmed, I just wanted to be prepared for the time when it eventually emerged that you and Thor were together. I didn’t find anything to be worried about in what they found on you, but I understand that there may be things that you’d prefer to stay private. The silence of those involved can be arranged, if you wish.”

There were certainly things in your past that you weren’t exactly proud of. You probably should’ve realised that you couldn’t stay under the radar forever.

“No, it’s ok. Don’t waste your resources, or those of your friends. I’ve been alive long enough to know that if the tabloid press thinks there’s a story, they’ll dig it up somehow. Or just make one up. I’ve done what I’ve done, and that’s the end of that. Anyone commenting on my life probably has stuff they’d rather keep secret,” you answered with a sigh.

“Very well. Do you want to read the dossier?”

“No, no. I’m sure it’s very thorough and accurate. Thor, do you want to read it?”

“Anything you wish to tell me about your past, you can tell me about yourself,” he answered, running his fingers through your hair. “Whatever you have done, it’s of no consequence. You’re here now, that’s all that matters. Some youthful follies could not reverse my love for you.”

You nuzzled your face into his chest hair to hide the tears you could feel beginning to sting your eyes.

“Is that all, Brunnhilde? May we return to bed?” Thor said.

“Yes, of course. Apologies once again for disturbing you. I just wanted you to hear it from a friend before you heard it elsewhere.”

You were fast asleep again by the time Thor gently laid you back on the bed. You must’ve been warm in his hoodie, the early rays of sunshine beginning to seep into the bedroom, but he didn’t want to disturb you. His mind was all over the place, so he decided to check the news on your tablet while you were tucked into his side.

Thor’s Hammered!

King of Ass-gard

Pizza Gut - Avenger destroys pizza buffet

Thor quickly put the tablet back down. It stung to read the words they wrote about him, but even worse was what they wrote about you. They didn’t know you, why did they get to judge you, speculate about who you were and why you were with him? You were just another name on the long list of loved ones he wasn’t able to protect.

Gingerly removing himself from your side, relieved when he didn’t wake you, Thor decided to sit back on the settee, letting Loki slither over him. The snake wasn’t as helpful as his brother, but he found it calming anyway.

15 minutes later, the sound of a message being received made him jump. Unlocking his old phone, he saw it was a message from Brunnhilde.

I know you said you didn’t want to know about Y/N’s past, but I think you might find this interesting…

There were several links at the bottom of the message. Thor didn’t want to pry, he really didn’t, but he couldn’t help but be curious as to what was that important that Brunnhilde had felt the need to send him a link.

Moving as quietly as he could, he returned to the bedroom to grab the tablet, before settling back down to see what had been sent.

Typing the address was a torturous process, his fingers weren’t quite dexterous enough to easily manipulate Midgardian devices, although he was becoming more careful with them. Still, he nearly dropped the tablet when he saw where the link took him to.

It was a gallery of pictures. Pictures of you, to be exact. You weren’t naked but it was obvious that these weren’t the kind of pictures you shared with friends or family. He’d heard about these kinds of sites, adult sites they were called. The model had a different name, but it was definitely you. No doubt about it.

Pictures of you in corsets that pushed up your breasts and cinched in your waist. Pictures of you with chokers around your throat. Some pictures where you wore clothing made of a strange material that seemed to fit you like a second skin. Some more where you wore beautiful lingerie in vibrant colours, brilliant blues and vivid violets.

The pictures on the next link were a little different. Leather gloves, ball gags, handcuffs. Fishnet stockings and knee-high leather boots. Why had he never seen any of these outfits? Carefully gripping the tablet with one hand, he moved the other inside the waistband of his pants, rubbing at the head of his excited cock.

For a split second, he considered what Brunnhilde had thought of these pictures. Had she shown them to Sif? What if they’d both enjoyed them?

His cock grew harder at the thought.

And he knew he should feel a little ashamed. You hadn’t mentioned these pictures, so it probably wasn’t something you were proud of, but he couldn’t help but look, hope that others had looked, and seen just how sexy you were.

He didn’t really understand the third link. That seemed to be a niche site. You were barely visible, clad in rain gear, and wrapped in heavy duty tape to secure you to a post.

But, Brunnhilde really had saved the best until last.

Bound, gagged, blindfolded. Eyes wide in another as you looked at the woman stroking your hair as you sat tied to the chair. If he had to be king, he’d insist on having a throne, just so he could recreate that image with you. Only, in his version, you’d be wearing a lot less clothes, his face between your thighs, eating you out until the only thing keeping you upright were the ropes that held you in your place.

It was funny. He’d not really enjoyed being in chains, in a cage, when he’d encountered Surtur. But the thought of you being bound, held captive while he pleasured you in all the different ways he knew how. Now, that was something he liked the idea of.

Freeing his cock, he began to stroke in earnest, the images he’d just seen and images of what he’d like to do to you fuelling his desire. The harder he thought of them, the harder he got, and the harder he pumped his fist.

His orgasm was explosive, and Loki hissed at him angrily. Geri and Freki perked up their ears to see what the fuss was about. He knew he should move and clean himself but he was comfy, he was relaxed, he could rest here for a moment or two.

***

Evidently it was more than a moment or two when he awoke to the sound of pans clanging around in the kitchen. There’s no way you couldn’t have seen him, and there’s no way he could pretend it was anything else. He’d fallen asleep with his cock out, the evidence crusted onto his tummy.

Tucking himself back into his pants, he approached the kitchen with caution.

“Good morning, my love,” he tried.

“Good afternoon,” you corrected. “Dare I ask?” you said, looking at his gut pointedly.

Nothing good would come of lying, so he tried his best to explain the truth.

“Ah, well, what happened was, you see, Brunnhilde sent me an electronic letter with some links on my phone. So I looked at them on the tablet,” he explained.

“Brunnhilde sent you porn?”

“Yes. I mean no. I mean maybe? The links were to pictures of you.”

“Ah,” you said, understanding. “Brunnhilde’s friends found those.”

“I suppose so, yes.”

“Well, I’m glad you enjoyed them. I enjoyed doing them.”

Thor doesn’t ask for an explanation, doesn’t press you, doesn’t tell you about his fantasies. You’ll tell him when you want to, if you want to. He’ll tell you when you’re not trying to cook avocado eggs Benedict.

“I’m going to take a shower,” he mumbles before walking off to the bathroom. He’s glad that you’re not angry or upset, but he’s still embarrassed that you caught him in that position.

The shower is cold, but not cold enough to cool him down from his thoughts. Thoughts of those photos, thoughts of last night, and thoughts of what he’d like to do with you in the future. He could probably roll around on Jötunheimr and still feel too hot.

He’s quiet during brunch, but you don’t press him. You just hold his hand, silently telling him that everything will be alright.

You’d briefly checked your phone before Thor had woken up. There were so many notifications, you were afraid it might crash, and you’d put it back down again. Today was an historic day for New Asgard, you didn’t want to overshadow it by worrying about what Twitter trolls had to say about you. It keeps buzzing on the table next to you, and you continue ignoring it.

“Are you going to check that?” Thor asked. “It might be something important.”

“I don’t really want to, I’m afraid of what I might see,” you said.

“I understand, but the longer you leave it, the worse it will be. Maybe just check if there is anything from your family. You don’t want it playing on your mind throughout the day.”

Thor’s right, and so with a resigned sigh, you picked up your phone and looked at your notifications, dismissing anything that wasn’t important.

A message from Sam on Skype that read I knew you had a thing for older men, didn’t realise you liked them THAT old ;-) now I know where you are, let me know when I can visit. Ignore the haters, they’re just jealous.

There was also an entire chain of emails from your mum, without a subject. She’d never quite gotten the hang of email.

Is this you/??>????? And then a link to a news website.

It is, isn’t it.

WHy didn’t you tell us. Where you were????

Your father is looking at flights.

He’s found some cheap ones with Ryanair, we’re coming over in a fortnight. Flying to Oslo. Charlie is coming too.

He can’t find anywhere to stay in New Asgard, are there no hotels????

Answer me.

“Ah, fuck,” you said, staring at down at your phone.

“What’s the matter?” Thor asked, worried that you’d seen something critical of you.

“My family knows where I am now, they’re coming to visit,” you mumbled. “In two weeks.”

“That’s wonderful news, I can’t wait to meet them,” Thor said, kissing your hand.

“Yeah,” you said doubtfully. You loved your family, but they could be tricky at times. They were hurt, of course, by your vagueness on the subject of your whereabouts. You already knew they were going to make some unintentionally hurtful comments, either about Thor, or about Alex, or both. They were also likely to do the same about you.

“Two weeks,” Thor mused, still enthusiastic about the prospect of meeting your family. “I think that gives me sufficient time to build a place for them to stay.”

It was lovely that he was excited by the prospect, but you groaned internally. Something told you that Thor was not going to have time for much if the vote went the way you thought it would.

“I’ll tell them we can accommodate them somewhere,” you said, firing off a quick email. “Now, let’s forget about this and focus on the task at hand. Brunnhilde wanted us there no later than two, that only gives us an hour.”

***

At 2:10 you arrived at the mead hall, Thor in his full regalia, you in the dress he’d gifted you for the May Day feast. Geri and Freki loping along behind you. You went to add the one remaining cake to the long table of food, while Brunnhilde intercepted Thor.

“Is everything alright, after this morning?” she asked him.

“Yes, I think so. Y/N is strong, although her family have elected to visit. That seems to have shaken her,” Thor sighed.

“It must be hard to face someone you thought was dead, even if you love them, once you’ve been through the grieving process,” Brunnhilde noted.

“It is.” Thor knows it’s hard, he went through it enough times with Loki, but he’d do anything to have his brother back. Or his mother, father.

There are flowers everywhere. Bouquets on tables, bunting hanging from the rafters, and people everywhere with flower crowns on their heads. Thor’s pleased with how well they’ve turned out. He makes a note to thank everyone involved, as well as to the plants for blooming so abundantly for him. There was something very satisfying about growing things and tending to them, becoming one with nature.

He’s not surprised when you return with a flower crown, plus one each around the dog’s necks. He doesn’t think they’ll last long, which is why he’d made sure to cultivate flowers that wouldn’t make the dogs sick when they inevitably tried to eat them. Thor particularly likes how you look with your flower crown. He’s seen you wear one before, of course, but they really do suit you. He hopes that if he has to be king, then perhaps one day you’ll wear a different kind of crown.

“Hello, Brunnhilde. Apologies for our lateness. I didn’t grab a crown for you but if Thor doesn’t want this one, I’m sure you can have it,” you offered, holding out the wreath.

“That’s quite alright, I’m not really one for crowns,” Valkyrie answered with a small shake of her head. “I’ll leave you two to mingle, just don’t be late for the vote announcement.”

“We won’t,” Thor assured her, knowing full well that they won’t start without him. “I fear this may not be the only crown I accept today,” he continues, taking the flowers from you and placing them on his head.

“I’m sorry,” you said, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. “I’ll support you, no matter the outcome.”

Thor knows this, and he’s glad of it. He’s still not comfortable with being in charge, quite content with his life, building things, tending to the plants, and playing with his animals. But at least he doesn’t have to do it alone. After Loki died, he was so very alone. Korg and Miek were great, but there was something missing in his life, a much closer form of companionship that he’d finally found again.

“Let us mingle, I’m sure there are many children who will be glad to pet the dogs,” Thor said, looping his arm with yours at the elbow.

*** By the time it gets to the hour of the announcement, Geri and Freki have had their bellies rubbed by seemingly every child in New Asgard, much to their delight.

A little boy had brought you a small posy of flowers, and was extra pleased when Thor held him in his strong arms and let the child place the flowers in Thor’s beard. It’s very haphazard, and a little one-sided but Thor’s pleased with the end result, when you show him in your pocket mirror.

It makes him ache desperately to have a child - well, children - of his own. He thinks about what kind of uncle Loki would’ve been.

Hopefully he wouldn’t have stabbed them.

It’s too hot in the mead hall. Thor’s been trying to drink slowly, aware that he’s drinking out of nerves more than anything.

Dutch courage, you’d called it. Allegedly, Dutch soldiers had drunk jenever before going into battle. Thor considered that a little risky. Drinking was best done after battle, being clumsy while handling a weapon didn’t strike him as the best strategy. Then again, it seemed to work fine for Brunnhilde. It didn’t really happen to him, but supposed many people got nervous before a fight.

Thor knew you had a Dutch friend, a teacher. He wondered if they might bring jenever with them if they ever came to visit?

Bruce came over, crowds of Asgardians parting easily for his bulky frame.

“Hey buddy,” he said, hugging Thor. “Are you ready?”

“About as ready as I’ll ever be,” Thor answered. A few years ago, he’d thought he was ready. Had almost been crowned king.

He never thanked Loki for royally screwing that up. It was only now, with hindsight, that he could appreciate the favour his brother had inadvertently done him.

“It’s time,” Bruce told Thor, throwing an arm around his shoulders. Thor looks back at you, but you shake your head. This is an Asgardian matter. Your place is at the back with Geri and Freki, not onstage with Asgard’s elite.

“Do you know?” Thor asked Bruce, desperately.

“No Thor. Even if I did, I couldn’t tell you,” Bruce noted. “Whatever happens, you have people that care about you. It won’t be like it was before.”

Thor joins Valkyrie, Sif and several others onstage. Bruce waves his hands, dampening down the crowd that buzzes like a hornet’s nest. Despite all the assurances, this is still a volatile situation and Bruce says a silent prayer that everything works out for the best.

“Thank you all,” Bruce addressed the crowd. “Thank you for trusting in the process and for allowing us, as outside observers, to count all of your votes. No system will be perfect, but we hope that you will all respect the outcome, whatever it may be. It took three rounds of voting for an option to gain over 50% of the vote. I’ll now hand over to Captain America, who has the results.”

Bruce steps down, stands to the right hand side of the stage as Sam steps forward. Anticipation builds around the room, like static during a storm. Sif holds hands with both Thor and Valkyrie, holding in a breath as she waits to see which of the people she cares about most will draw the short straw of heading Asgard.

She fervently hopes that the people will have chosen another option, but she doubts it. Most Asgardians fell on one side of the divide or the other - traditionalists who wanted to continue the existing royal family, and those who felt that Brunnhilde was the best leader amongst those left.

“Thank you, Bruce,” Sam said, grateful that someone the Asgardians were familiar with had addressed them first. “The result is very close, but let me assure you, it is accurate. We counted every single ballot ten times, just to ensure there was no discrepancy. With 50.8% of the vote, the people of Asgard have chosen the option of an octarchy.”

The room erupted with people cheering, complaining, or otherwise chatting with people about what it all meant. Sam waited for the commotion to die down before continuing.”

“Furthermore, the proposed solution, as outlined within the election materials is that Thor, son of Odin.” Sam paused, Thor’s full title sounding odd coming out of his mouth, but that was what the piece of paper he was holding said. “Thor, son of Odin, shall rule as king, and head of state.”

Thor paled visibly and your heart went out to him, glad that Sif was holding his hand.

“Succession will be a matter of blood, as it has always been, unless Thor shall have no issue. In that event, the people of Asgard will once again convene to decide how they wish to be governed. Brunnhilde, of the Valkyrior, shall serve as his second in command. She will rule in his absence or if he is incapacitated, if Thor does not have an heir of legal age.”

Sam shook his head. He shouldn’t have let Bucky write the speech, he should’ve known his metal-armed partner would try to stitch him up with flowery Asgardian language. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Bucky smirking, standing next to Bruce. Sam makes a mental note to put on his suit later, pick Bucky up, and drop him in the North Sea.

“The other six members of the council will be chosen as follows. Thor, son of Odin, and Brunnhilde, of the Valkyrior, shall each choose one. Two more shall be elected by the people of Asgard. The final two shall be selected at random in a lottery of all citizens who have come of age. These positions shall be reviewed every ten years, unless circumstances, or the will of the people dictate otherwise.”

The place descends into chaos, even the dogs start barking at all the noise, and it only stops when the valkyrie gets to the front of the stage and lets out an ear-piercing screech. Everyone stops what they’re doing and looks at her, wincing.

“Settle down everyone, settle down,” she shouted. “I respect this result, just as I said I would, and I pledge to serve both Asgard and its king to the best of my ability, as long as I am able to do so. I would like to thank you for your trust and patience during the time in which I served as Asgard’s caretaker. I know that not all of you were happy with the situation, but I hope I served you well. There is one among us, who I would like to nominate for inclusion on the council. However, I am aware that some of you may feel it is a conflict of interests. As many of you are aware, the Lady Sif and I are in love. She is my nomination if you will accept her.”

Raucous applause erupts. Sif is well liked, and most people are pleased to have her helping to steer Asgard’s course, even if she’s a little too eager to head into battle at times.

“Very well, I thank you all for your trust,” the valkyrie continued. “While I have the floor, there is one more thing I wish to do. I was going to do it later, but I think now is best, to declare my love in front of all those I serve.”

This time it’s Sif’s turn to go pale, as the Valkyrie sinks to her knees, turning back to Sif.

“Lady Sif,” Brunnhilde began. “I have lived long and travelled far, and there is no beauty that can compare to yours. Your love shines brighter than any star, and I am a better person for you sharing it with me. I have no title or riches to give you. This is but a small trinket, for I have already given you the greatest gift I have to give, which is my heart. I would be honoured if you would accept this ring as a token of my love, as is the custom on much of Midgard, and agree to be my wife.”

Sif is openly sobbing, and Thor’s not sure he’s ever seen her cry before. Scores more around the room wipe away tears as Sif slowly moves forward, allowing the Valkyrie to slip the ring onto her finger. Once it’s in place, Sif takes Brunnhilde’s hands and pulls her up, embracing her tightly and kissing her fiercely to a chorus of cheers.

It’s a wonderful sight, and you’re glad that there’s something for Asgard to celebrate, even if the vote didn’t go everyone’s way. Your throat goes dry as Thor nervously makes his way to the front of the stage to speak.

“Hello everyone. Apologies if I seem nervous, it has been many years since I last addressed so many,” he said, fiddling with the hem of his cloak. It’s far too hot to be wearing it, but he’d insisted that this was an important occasion and that he should dress accordingly.

“My congratulations to the Lady Sif and the Lady Brunnhilde. Theirs is an excellent union, and I wish them an eternity of happiness together.”

Thor waits until the cheering dies down before continuing.

“I, too, respect and honour the results of this vote. No man can outrun his destiny, and it seems mine will always be to rule Asgard as its king, even though I feel ill-equipped to do so. Fate apparently wills it so. I have not led Asgard well these last few years, and I apologise for that from the bottom of my heart. I have been remiss in my duties. I know that some of you do not trust that I have changed, but I give you my solemn word that I have. That I will act for the good of Asgard, and the other eight realms, as long as there is life in my breast.”

The entire room draws a collective gasp as Thor sinks to one knee. Panic sets in. This can’t be happening. Surely he’s not about to propose as well?

“I kneel before you, as your humble servant,” Thor continued, and you sighed in relief. “Too long, the people of Asgard have knelt before the throne. No more. I kneel before you all, and ask for your forgiveness. I am not the man I was, but I hope with time, that I will become someone better, someone worthy of the position that I find myself in.

“Asgard is not a place, it is a people. My father told me that, and I see now how true it is. I thank each and every one of you for trusting and believing in Asgard, in each other, when I did not trust or believe in myself. Together, you have created something strong and beautiful. I thank you for sharing it with me. You have rebuilt, you have shown incredible strength and fortitude.

“I am sorry for abandoning you. It is the most dishonourable and cowardly thing I have ever done. I asked the Valkyrie to rule in my stead, because I felt she was the best person for the job. I am truly sorry for abandoning Asgard in her hour of need. Thank you, all of you. Thank you for preserving our traditions and stories. Thank you for building a new home for us all. Thank you to everyone who has helped today. Baking delicacies, creating flower crowns, playing music. All that you do, on this day and every day, to ensure that we survive, that our culture survives, is appreciated by me.

“I hope to be able to thank you all individually, but please understand, it may take me some time. I kneel before you, as your king, humbled by the faith you still place in me. I shall work to rule as a king of the people, not above them. The throne should not be an untouchable pedestal on which I am put.

“Although I do not have a crown, I kneel before you, ready to serve Asgard, completely and unreservedly.”

“About your crown,” a voice called from the stunned crowd, as all eyes turned to look at Lorelei. She walked slowly through them, people parting for her, before she stopped in front of the stage, directly in front of Thor.

“When Hela attacked, many of us realised that Asgard was in peril. As we fled the city, some of us gathered up important artefacts. I apologise for keeping this from you, your majesty, but there never seemed to be an opportune moment…” she trailed off, reaching into a leather satchel, slung low against her hip.

Several people fainted, as with trembling hands, she pulled a crown from it.

“My-my father’s crown,” Thor mumbled, stunned.

“Yes, your majesty,” Lorelei explained. “I apologise again for keeping it secret, but you had already lost so much, I did not wish to remind you of your father. I have kept it safe, all these years. I believed that one day, you would be restored to the throne. I believed that day would be today.”

With trembling fingers, she reaches out the crown as Thor lowered his head. Tears were running down his face, into his beard, for everyone to see as he sat back up, slowly rising to his feet.

A collective sense of shock reverberated around the room, and you anxiously stroked your two dogs, who sat flanked you on either side.

“Thank you, good Lady Lorelei. This truly is an extraordinary gift. I thought I would never see this again, let alone wear it. I do wonder, now, what else was saved from Asgard, but that is a matter for another time,” Thor advised. “I have but one more matter to discuss, before it is time to feast. There is much to celebrate this day, and I hope it is one that will long be remembered.”

Thor paused, taking a moment to look around the hall. His friends, his people looking up at him. It filled him with a tiny spark of confidence that everything would work out fine this time, unlike when he had told Loki it would, all those years ago, after Asgard was destroyed.

“Like the Lady Brunnhilde, I too have someone I wish to nominate to the council. Like her, this person is one who is very dear to me,” he noted, looking across the heads of everyone to look you in the eye.

Thousands of heads turned to face you as you froze, wishing the ground would swallow you up.

“I wish to nominate the Lady Y/N. She has done so much for Asgard, though her time with us has been short so far,” Thor admitted. “As an outsider, I believe she has much knowledge and wisdom to offer us about Midgard, its people, and their customs. Her counsel is invaluable to me, and I would like to offer her a place at this table, if there are no objections.”

Deathly silence descends, everyone waiting for someone to say something.

“A wise appointment, your majesty,” Leifr spoke up, and a chorus of cheers echoed around the room.

“It is settled then,” Thor exclaimed happily. “The other four positions shall be determined in due time, but now I say it is time to eat, drink, and dance our fill. There is much to celebrate as we enter into a proud new chapter in Asgard’s history.”

Everything was a blur for several hours as you try to process exactly what’s happened. Thor being king again was something you expected, and he seems to be taking it well. His speech was genuinely moving and you could see many Asgardians visibly softening to him as he spoke.

But appointing you to be one of Asgard’s eight rulers?

No. No no no. This could not be happening. You didn’t belong here, didn’t want that kind of responsibility.

Judging by the way people keep congratulating you, it definitely is happening. You barely have an appetite, pushing your food around, eating small amounts whenever Thor prompts you to try this dish or that.

It had been a productive few hours for the other three newly instated rulers. Between them, they’d managed to hash out a plan for getting the other council members appointed. They’d even found time to draft a press release with Pepper, covering the events of the day. The world media would be taken aback. New Asgard had never released any information before. Along with the details of the election, Pepper had made sure to note that the new rulers would be willing to engage with journalists going forward to ensure transparency about what the kingdom was doing, but that they would not interact with any outlet that did not respect Asgardian privacy or engaged in hurtful gossip about them.

Apparently, the prince of another country, and his wife, had done something similar a few years prior.

You sit completely zoned out, a zombie. Utterly alone while surrounded by people. Geri and Freki lie protectively at your feet, aware that something is wrong.

Even Thor can sense that something is amiss. You’re paying no attention to him eating increasingly absurd portions. He even mentioned that he was getting full and you just nodded politely, a slightly vacant smile plastered to your face. You didn’t even try to touch his stomach, where it sat pressed up against the table.

Eventually, Sam manages to make his way over, whispering in Thor’s ear. You’re dimly aware that they’re talking about you, by the way Thor keeps glancing nervously in your direction.

“Let us go for a walk,” he said, standing up and tugging at your elbow. “Young Sam said that you look like you could do with some fresh air.”

Moving on autopilot you follow him, Geri and Freki loping along behind you. He leads you down to the beach, the sun setting in the distance as Thor gently maneuvers you into sitting down on a driftwood log.

“Are you quite alright?” Thor asked, running his fingers up your bare arms as he crouched awkwardly in front of you. “You seem distant, distracted.”

“This is all just very overwhelming,” you said, looking at your hands where they rested in your lap.

“I agree, much has happened today. We can return home, if you wish?”

“Why did you appoint me to the council?” you whispered, voice shaking. “I don’t know if I’ll still be here in ten years. What if we split up? I don’t belong here, I’m not Asgardian. I don’t want this responsibility, I’m not qualified, I don’t want to do this.”

Thor’s heart sank and he let out a sad sigh, finally sitting on the soft sand, his hefty stomach making it hard to keep his balance while he crouched. He’d done it again. He’d thought only of what he wanted and hadn’t consulted you. He’d upset you, ruining your evening.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, tipping your chin up to make you look at him. “That was thoughtless and selfish of me, I should have consulted you before announcing my plan. Today has been trying for you, and you were already anxious and upset. I’m truly sorry for burdening you further.”

“I know you didn’t mean to Thor, but I’m so scared and sad.”

“Oh my love, no. I really am such an oaf,” Thor said sadly, pulling you into the small amount of lap he had left. If he kept on like this, he was going to really struggle to hold you like this soon.

He wants to kiss your lips, to kiss away all the hurt and worry he sees in your eyes, to kiss it better like his mother used to kiss his and Loki's scrapes and grazes. But he lets you bury your face in his shoulder. All he can do is cuddle you while you cry, chest heaving against his, while he rubs little circles onto your back, mumbling apologies all the while.

“I’m so sorry. I never meant to upset you, to make you scared or anxious. I can see that I was mistaken, even though I only meant it as a good thing, as a compliment to your character and your intelligence. I truly know of no other in the whole of Asgard more capable than you, not even Brunnhilde,” Thor explained. “You are wise for one so young, and far more learned than any of us when it comes to this land we find ourselves in. Please, allow me to apologise unreservedly for the hurt I’ve caused. Allow me to make it right, allow me to pick another to serve in your place.”

You're so silent, shaking in his arms. It hurts Thor in a way he’s not felt since his father banished him. What if he's finally gone too far? What if this is the thing that pushes you away from him?

It scares him more than the thought of Thanos returning once more.

“A trial,” you said softly, as you raise your head.

“Pardon?” Thor asked.

“Until the end of the year, I will serve for a trial period. But if at the end of that time, I still don’t want to do it, then you must replace me, without any reservations.”

“Of course, of course. Are you absolutely sure?”

“No,” you admit. “But I am willing to try. I trust you. I trust you not to force me into anything I can’t handle. I’m humbled that you and your people have accepted me, and are prepared to give me this chance. I know it’s a great honour. So I will try to repay that trust that you have, I will try to serve Asgard, even if it doesn’t come easily to me.”

“No one who seeks power or has it come easily to them should ever be allowed to wield it,” Thor noted, rubbing his nose against yours. “Thank you, my love for agreeing to try this. I will honour your request should you change your mind at any point. I admit, I was scared that I had lost you, that my foolishness had driven you away.”

“You’ll have to do more than that to get rid of me,” you laughed wetly, wiping your face on the back of your hand.

“That’s good news, although I hope never to test that theory,” Thor told you, relieved. “Do you wish to return to the hall? I’m sure you could persuade me to have some more wine and sweet treats. As you can see, I am not quite at capacity,” Thor teased, moving your hands under his tunic to touch his taut tummy.

“I think I would like to head home. I’m emotionally exhausted and I just want to faceplant into your tummy and go to sleep.”

“Also an excellent plan,” Thor admitted, standing up with your still in his arms.

“I’m not too tired to walk,” you tried to insist, looking down at your bemused dogs as they trailed alongside the gentle giant carrying you.

“I know that, I just wanted to hold onto you some more.”

Thor’s going to be extra affectionate for the next little while, still reeling from the feeling of almost losing you. Now he finally has something to lose again, he’s resolutely determined not to let it happen.

@innerpaperexpertcloud @morganhoran1671

[izzy-b-hands]

You Send Me: Chapter Six

Tag List: @xmxisxforxmaybe

10 hour road trip with the boys time! New Haven to Detroit, if I have my locations correct (and god I hope I do, I spent a lot of time trying to make sure I had the most accurate tour listing from ‘78 lol.) No time to yourselves, but you and Freddie can make it work regardless, right? We get NSFW again in this bit, just a warning!

Also, Scrabble! (The reason you’re all really reading this, I’m sure lol.) 

My love to all who read/like/reblog!

At least until you got on the van. Then, it was ‘hurry up and wait.’ 

“Makes sense,” John muttered as you all loaded up into the van, after a quick shower and retrieving your things from the hotel. “We had some extra time for once, so now the rest of the tour we’ll constantly be nearly late.”

“We’ll catch up,” Roger said patiently, staring down the Scrabble board. “Don’t worry.”

“I’m not worrying, I”m just saying,” John protested. “No sense in pretending it isn’t true.” 

“Which is not what I’m doing,” Roger said, glaring down his letters as if that would magically make them change. “What I am doing is beating our dear Mr. Mercury here at Scrabble.”

“You have to actually play another word for the game to progress, and for you to do that, Rog,” Freddie smirked. “In case you’ve forgotten how to play.” 

“Oh I know, and I’m playing,” Roger said, then proceeded to not put down a word, but frown again at the board. 

“You want help?” Brian offered, and Roger and Freddie both hissed. “Jesus, sorry. Be careful, Y/N. They’re like angry cats when they get into it.” 

“And you aren’t?” Freddie asked. 

“No, I am too, but I’m not playing right now, so I’m not the concern,” Brian replied. “And there’s literally a spot, right there, Roger, come on!” 

“I don’t see it yet, just give me a minute!” 

“This is unbearable,” Brian muttered. 

“Oh shut it,” Roger spat. “Or I’ll make you play against me next, and I’ll beat you too.” 

“Anything but that,” Brian said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. “I could beat you in my sleep.” 

“Is that so?” 

“Lord help us,” John muttered and shot you a look as if to say ‘I’m so sorry for all this.’ 

But you were oddly loving it. It was something most people didn’t get to see, the brotherly spats and all that. And that was exactly what this struck you as, a bunch of brothers stuck on a road trip, already getting on each other’s nerves while barely a mile from home. 

“I could play whoever wins,” you murmured. “Granted, I’ve only ever managed to beat my family members at Scrabble which isn’t saying much, but if you want a wild card...” 

All four of them looked up at you and smiled. 

“I like it,” Roger said. “Though I’ll apologize in advance for winning over both Freddie and you.” 

“Might be a little premature, don’t you think?” you asked, and they cackled. 

“He’s called your bluff!” Freddie crowed. “Come on, put something down, we’ve only got nine hours in this tin can.” 

“It isn’t that bad,” John fussed, and you couldn’t blame him. As Queen’s main financial officer, he had helped the crew pick out the van for this tour, and was understandably miffed whenever anyone made a comment about it. 

“No, it isn’t,” Freddie admitted. “Just a long drive, and that would be hell in anything. No harm meant, John.” 

John nodded, and stood to peek at Roger’s letters. “Oh, there’s no way he can win. You’ve got this.” 

“Would you stop making it harder for me to concentrate?” Roger gasped. “Jesus, all a man is trying to do is play Scrabble, and the ruddy peanut gallery can’t keep it down...” 

“Give it your all, Rog,” Crystal called from where he was laying down on some of the seats. 

“Thank you! Finally, someone believes in me,” Roger said. “That said...I don’t think I can find anything, these letters are absolute shit.” 

Everyone hit the roof at that, laughter echoing throughout the van. 

“All that talk,” Freddie shook his head. “You’ll get me next time.” 

“Yes, yes, I will,” Roger agreed. “Besides, this is more fun for me now. We get to watch you play your new boyfriend.” 

“That is a hell of a test on a relationship,” Brian said. “You sure about this, Y/N?” 

You nodded, and traded seats with Roger as Freddie cleared the board and let John take over handing out the letter tiles. “I don’t think I’ll win anyway, and this one had better not let me.” 

“I would never,” Freddie teased. “Only honorable victories and losses in this van.” 

“Good,” you smiled, and tossed down the first word you saw in your letters. 

“For fuck’s sake,” Brian laughed. “Is that the theme of this match?” 

“Not the strongest first word,” John remarked as he took down your score from the C, O, C, and K you had laid down. “But not terrible either. I’d be interested to see if you could keep this match on theme too.” 

Freddie smirked, then grinned at the shared laughter over his word. 

“Freddie, honestly,” Roger shook his head. ��Cunt is almost too short a word, you two will never finish this game in ten hours if you keep up like that.” 

“Let them play,” John hushed him. 

You set down TITS and watched as they broke into laughter again. 

“What?” you asked. “Smaller than the ones I used to have, that isn’t anything ridiculous.” 

Freddie shook his head. “You’re really going to keep it on theme, aren’t you?” 

“If you will, then I will,” you replied with a smile. 

It was an odd turn on, Scrabble, and you fully realized it maybe wasn’t the game itself so much as just flexing intellectually with Freddie that was doing it, but it made it hard to sit still, to focus on the game. 

You figured Freddie was in a similar boat as he kept trying to tangle one of his legs with yours under the table, and you had a feeling you would have been in his lap had the table not been in the way, the Scrabble board tossed aside. 

“Get out, stretch your legs,” Brian said as you finally stopped at what appeared to be a completely abandoned truck stop, your game with Freddie only half over. “We’ll get back on the road in half an hour. Long enough to try and get food out of these vending machines, use the bathroom, and feel less like sardines in a can.” 

“Hey!” John cried, and you listened to him and Brian mutter on about the van as Freddie took your hand and led you into the truck stop. 

It was nicer than you’d expected from a truck stop, with individual, walled off showering sections with locking doors. You had just a moment to admire them as Freddie pulled you into one, locked the door behind you, and damn near tackled you with a kiss. 

“God that was unbearable,” Freddie muttered in between kisses. “I was praying we’d finally stop.” 

You wanted to tell him ‘me too’ but instead nipped at his neck gently, making him gasp and whine. 

“What if they come in here?” you managed after a moment, as Freddie’s hand undid the button and zipper on your jeans and slipped into your underwear. 

“Then we tell them to either enjoy the show or get out,” Freddie replied with a smirk, before doing his magic again with his fingers. One inside of you, while his thumb gently worked at your clit, grown bigger from the testosterone. Maybe it was just that it was him, or that his fingers were wonderfully long and talented in general, but the combination left you struggling to stand upright against the wall of the shower. 

Being quiet while he worked was also nearly impossible, and you pressed your mouth against his shoulder so you could moan and be relatively unheard, at least in theory. He seemed to like that even more, rutting his hard cock, still trapped in his trousers, against your hip, moving in time with how he moved his hand against you and inside. 

You could feel all that lithe muscle you’d admired before working to hold you up as you came and your knees buckled underneath you. You tried to keep yourself upright, only to finally let yourself fall, grateful he’d already slipped his hand back out of your underwear. 

“No, what are you doing, get up,” he whispered, hands reaching to help you up. 

You shook your head, and popped open your mouth instead, tongue stuck out, and waited to see if he’d get the message. 

“That is absolutely obscene,” he breathed softly. “Are you sure, I mean, you don’t have to-” 

You nodded, and reached for the zipper of his trousers. “I want to. I mean, I’ve never actually done this before, so forgive me any mistakes, and give me feedback; I at least know you don’t use teeth-” 

He interrupted you with a barely cut off laugh as he covered his mouth. “Christ. Not that you haven’t done it before, that’s not why I’m laughing. The teeth bit, that was it, but at the same time, I’m glad you know that.” 

You giggled despite your nerves, and started to reach for his underwear, only for him to stop your hand. 

“We should be doing this somewhere nicer. For your first time, I mean,” he said. “With more time. I don’t want you to have to rush and hate doing this as a result or something, I mean your first time sets the standard.” 

He pulled you to your feet, then pulled you close to him by your hips, and kissed you softly. 

“Well, we’re not leaving here if you don’t get to come too,” you murmured in between his kisses. “What a concert hold up announcement that would be.” 

He only smiled, and didn’t stop you as your hand moved to his cock, stroking him gently through his underwear. 

“Is that okay?” you asked. “For here, at least. For now.” 

He nodded, letting his head drop onto your shoulder, his hips rutting up to meet your hand as you palmed his cock, your thumb moving over the head slowly. 

You could hear Brian shouting something outside, and realized you were running out of time, if you weren’t out completely already. 

“If this is too much, or bad or whatever, just say, and I’ll stop,” you whispered into Freddie’s ear, stroking more vigorously, letting your own hips move against his. His last reaction to your teeth at his neck had been good, and this one was even better, as you nipped just hard enough to make him hiss in your ear at the sensation. 

Before you could nip again, you felt his cock pulse, and it was your turn to hold him up as he came, groaning into your neck as he did. 

“For fuck’s sake, wherever you two are, hurry up! We can’t leave you behind, but we can threaten to!” Brian’s voice echoed into the showers. 

Freddie raised his head, only for the two of you to break into giggles. 

“We’re in trouble,” he laughed. 

“I think we are,” you agreed. “We pissed off Dad. Two kids, out running around, making out in public-” 

“Little bit more than that,” Freddie interrupted with a smile and a kiss. 

“True,” you said. “Are you okay to go back out there? I mean, we didn’t really think this through in terms of your trousers.” 

“It’s dark,” he said. “It’ll be fine. And even if they do see...they probably guessed where we were, what we were up to. So let them see, because they won’t give a fuck, so why should we?” 

If anyone did give a fuck, they didn’t say it as you and Freddie joined them back in the van, settling onto one of the back seats, lounging against each other, content and tired. 

The Scrabble game had been forgotten, but you didn’t mind. There were plenty of cities yet, and more than enough time to start another. In the meantime, you were happy to lay in Freddie’s lap, watching with him as Brian and Roger swore at each other over a match. 

There were still at least six hours, and you hoped there might be another truck stop along the way. 

[horansqueen]

AM Conversations : chapter 24

A Niall Horan fanfiction ; rated MA

CHAPTER 1 || CHAPTER 2 || CHAPTER 3 || CHAPTER 4 || CHAPTER 5 || CHAPTER 6 || CHAPTER 7 || CHAPTER 8 || CHAPTER 9 || CHAPTER 10 || CHAPTER 11 || CHAPTER 12 || CHAPTER 13 || CHAPTER 14 || CHAPTER 15 || CHAPTER 16 || CHAPTER 17 || CHAPTER 18 || CHAPTER 19 || CHAPTER 20 || CHAPTER 21 || CHAPTER 22 || CHAPTER 23

NOTES:

-one chapter is her pov, the next is his. -4k. -im sorry, i never proofread, i hate it. -there WILL be smut. but not only smut. -this is a romance, comedy, smut story. -for the summary, check my MASTERLIST.

- if you want to be notified when this is updated, please message me or leave a comment!

- of course i wasnt going to make you wait for them to get friends again. it had to be done quickly. but it was needed for Niall to realize that he cant be without her, you know? also, there will be more drama in the next chapters i believe.

- you can send me questions and theories and comments. tbh they all make me SO SO SO SOOOO HAPPY! and make me want to write more! you can also tell me if there are things you WANT to happen. you never know, i may add it :P

- thanks for being patient btw! i work a lot these days and will work even more in the next few weeks (until halloween) so i may not update as often as i’d like. :(

-please, message me, give me feedbacks, it would mean sooo much to me!

Chapter 24 : His chapter

NIALL

I never thought i'd ever have to get over my best friend. I never thought i'd ever lose her at all. But I had to be honest with myself. She was gone, and she had been gone for a while now. A day had turned into a week and a week into 5 more, and there was only one way I found to take my mind off of Liv, at least for a couple hours a day. It was Maya. I asked her on a few dates and after a while, I had no choice but to accept being official. We didn't announce it but we had been seen together and every time a new picture of us appeared online, I couldn't help but wonder if Olivia had seen it and if that made her even angrier at me.

She was not dating Harry or at least, if she was, they had been very discreet about it. They were seen together but never hand in hand or showing affection. They were probably keeping that private and I couldn't lie and pretend it didn't twist my stomach. I felt like they were best friends now and although I knew it sounded juvenile, I couldn't help but be slightly jealous.

I wanted to call her, text her or even go see her more than anything but I didn't. I was trying to respect that she needed time away from me even if it was killing me. Meanwhile, I was trying to keep myself busy and I couldn't pretend Maya wasn't helping. I had been writing a lot, too, throwing my feelings into songs. I had never been the best when it came to expressing my emotions and the only way i could really do it was through music.

"Still writing?"

I suddenly got out of my thoughts and looked up, meeting the eyes of my girlfriend who sat in front of me at the kitchen's table. She bent closer, trying to read what I was writing but I quickly closed my notebook and sent her a small smile.

"Sorry, not really in the mood to share." I explained, shaking my pen between two of my fingers.

Her smile faded and she shrugged. With time, I had learned to decipher most of her body language and expression and I knew that she was hurt and a bit jealous. It was tough with Maya, she was not straightforward the way Olivia was and most of the time I had to guess what she wanted and how she felt. I had to admit it made the relationship harder to deal with and way more exhausting than it should be.

We remained in silence for a few minutes as I tried to decide if I wanted to ask her what was wrong, or if I just wanted to let go and pretend nothing was happening. It's not that I didn't feel anything for Maya. In fact, I had affection for her and I cared about her, but at the same time, there was something missing. It was not her, she was not the problem. The problem was me and how I couldn't seem to be totally happy without my best friend.

"Can I ask you something?"

I stopped breathing but dared looking up at Maya who had tilted her head and was now playing with her fingers. I knew that whatever that question was about, it would bring a painful conversation and I really was not in the mood. Still, I nodded gently.

"Do you love me, Niall?"

Of all the questions I thought she could ask, this would never have crossed my mind. My lips parted and my eyebrows raised as I tried to find a nice way to answer her.

"Maya, we've been dating for less than a month, I mean, I just don't catch feelings like that, you know? Love is a big deal."

"Fine." she replied a little roughly. "Then just tell me this, do you think you'll ever be able to love me as much as you love her?"

She had put emphasis and maybe a bit of disgust on the last word and although I knew exactly who she was talking about, I simply frowned and leaned against my chair, pretending not to understand.

"Don't act like you don't know who i'm talking about, Niall." she pointed out, her facial expression turning into an angry one. "Just answer me and be honest."

I sighed a bit louder than intended and crossed my arms on my chest. I knew it would be painful and i was right.

"I don't know okay?" i let out meanly, shaking my head and bringing one of my hands on my face. "I've known her since we were kids, she's my best friend, she was always there for me and me for her, we did almost everything together. I've never been away from her except when i was on tour and it sucked so much that I invited her on the last one. What are you asking me, Maya? You want me to compare my relationship with you to the one I have with her? Do you really want that?"

Silence. A heavy silence that weighed on both of us until she just shook her head.

"No." she let out firmly before getting up. "I don't really want that."

I remained sitting while she grabbed her stuff and waited until I heard the front door open and close to rub my eyes and groan low. Was it always going to be like that when i'd date a girl? Was I cursed to live this conversation over and over again? What will happen when it comes to someone I really have feelings for? Would it be ruined because of my friendship with Olivia? I opened my eyes suddenly, realizing that maybe that was exactly why Liv was gone. Maybe our friendship was threatening what she was building with Harry and she decided to pick him over me. The thought made something boil inside me and I tried to calm myself. I was not even sure that it was the reason she left but it would be very bad if it was, especially after telling me the opposite before.

Quickly, I got up and walked to the living room, sitting down and grabbing my laptop. I felt my leg shake as I was waiting for it to open up and I didn't even have to type up the address : the page simply opened, telling me I hadn't closed it last night.

Since we stopped talking, I had read somewhere that Olivia started working again. Her dad had a web site and she wrote a few articles for him online, most of the being reviews of recent movies playing in theaters even if a few times, she had the chance to see them before. I had read every single critics she wrote and left a few comments but I had never heard from her. I also stared way too long at her picture in the small circle at the beginning of every article and it was a bit sad. I didn't know you could become obsessed with someone to the point of stalking them online.

I sighed, quickly typing a comment on her latest work and shook my head after clicking 'enter'.

'Can't believe you saw this movie without me 😝'

With an other sigh, I closed the top of my laptop and leaned against the couch, rubbing my eyes again. Every single day, I fought the need to call her and every single day, I stayed an hour just laying in bed, in the dark, wondering what we would talk about if she was here with me. A few times, I would feel Maya cuddle me but tonight, I would definitely be alone.

I had thought about asking Harry to talk to her for me but changed my mind quickly. I also thought about asking him how she was doing but I felt like she would be mad for intruding her life when she had clearly asked for a break, so I didn't do anything. In fact, I hadn't talked to Harry ever since that ridiculous double date and I was fine with it. I had no reason to be mad at him but I was and I resented him for somehow taking my best friend away from me, as if it was his fault.

I was thinking about taking a shower when my phone beeped. I groaned, thinking it was probably Maya who wanted to talk about what had happened between us and I almost didn't check but it beeped for a second time and I searched through my pants to find it.

'We can always go see it again together if you want to.' was the first message I saw, making me sit up better and blink a few times.

'I miss you Nee' was the second one I received and with this one, I swallowed hard.

I remained motionless, my fingers over the keyboard that appeared on my screen, trying to decide what to answer. I wanted to beg her to come back or ask her what took her so long to message me but instead, I licked my lips and typed down how I really felt.

'I fucking miss you too.'

I knew it was pathetic but I stayed there, staring at my phone, until she answered again. It's not like I could think about anyone or anything else anyway.

'A drink? My place?'

I felt my heart twist at the thought of getting my best friend back. I felt like we had so much to talk about even if we had been apart only a few weeks and I jumped off my couch, typing my answer.

'I'll be there in 10'

It took me exactly 8 minutes until I was ringing her doorbell and she quickly let me in. I literally ran up the stairs and knocked at the door which opened immediately. There she was, standing in front of me, looking exactly how I remembered, except maybe for a few small details I couldn't put my fingers on.

"Hey, you look amazing." I let out, panting slightly because of my quick ascent.

She chuckled and moved away to let me in, pushing on the door so it would close behind me. I felt like I hadn't stepped foot here in so long and it made me wonder why in hell I hadn't asked her to live with me yet. I was not going to propose her today but I tried to take a mental note to ask her soon.

"I look like crap, but thank you."

I followed her to the kitchen, leaving my jacket on the couch and I watched her open the fridge. I smiled and thanked her when she handed me a beer, noticing she trying to open her own by herself, when she normally asks for my help. I put my own beer down on the table and took a few steps closer, placing my hand on her bottle. My fingers brushed against her and I could swear her eyes became bigger.

"Let me help you." I proposed in a whisper before her fingers loosened from around her beer.

I hadn't been that close to her in a while and her perfume invaded my nose again, the mix of honey and vanilla making me slightly dizzy,

"You smell good." I breathed out after opening her beer.

I close my eyes tight at the stupidity of my words and I expected her to laugh but after a few seconds, I opened my eyes again only to see her staring at me. We were both still holding her drink but neither of us seemed to be able to move and I let my eyes roam on her face. There were so many things stuck in my throat but I just swallowed hard before talking.

"Please, say we can be friends and hang out again." I whispered, almost begging.

Her face softened and her parted lips curled into a fond smile. I don't know what suddenly came over me but I let go of her beer to cup her face and crash my lips against hers. It was a simple kiss, just a way to show her how happy I was that she was back in my life.

"Sorry." I apologized after pulling away slightly. "You know I suck with words."

My face was still close to her and my hands still pressed on her cheeks but she simply chuckled and nodded slowly, staring in my eyes.

"Y-Yeah." she whispered. "I'm not sure what that means either but... okay."

Her voice was soft and I wouldn't have heard her words if she was not so close to me. I smiled at her and shrugged with one shoulder.

"I don't know, just that I missed you."

I watched her lick her lips and put her hands over mine, bringing them down but she squeezed my fingers and I took a step back.

"How about we chat for a bit?" she proposed, raising her eyebrows. "We haven't talked in a while."

We ended up sitting together in the living room and since her couch was smaller than mine, I could feel her leg against mine as we remained silent, drinking our beer and enjoying the silence. It was not awkward, it never was between us, and I put my arm on the back of the couch, catching her attention as she turned to look at me.

"What happened to us, Niall?"

My eyes roamed on her face and I sighed, sitting better and moving closer to her at the same time. She looked sad, like something was hurting her, and I couldn't help but wonder what exactly made her so unhappy : the fact that we had been separated for weeks, or that we were together at this exact moment?

"I don't know, Liv." I started, looking down but not really seeing anything. "Something happened when we came back from the tour and I'm not sure what it is."

When I looked up, I noticed she was staring at me teary-eyed and I felt my heart twist in my chest. She licked her lips and it made me realize I could still taste her on mine. Could that platonic kiss be considered cheating if I liked it? Was it wrong if it tasted good and made me feel even better?

"Did you have time to think?" she asked again, nibbling on her bottom lip now. "Did you find out if it's me you want in your life or if i'm just filling an empty spot?"

I held my breath at how bad her words sounded and moved closer, taking her hands in mine with her face only a few inches away from hers.

"I still maintain what I said." I pointed out firmly. "It's you. I can't be without you."

She nodded and closed her eyes, leaning against the couch with a sigh. I didn't know if it was a sigh of despair or relief but I kept squeezing her fingers. As I looked at her, I thought about Maya's words and started questioning myself. Could it be true? Would my love and friendship with Liv ruin all the relationships i'd ever have? Would I always love her more than all the girls I could ever date? It made no sense to think a friendship could take so much space and I had no idea if it had always been this way or if it was recent.

"How are things going with Maya?" she asked reluctantly, as I remembered that she was gone.

"We had a... misunderstanding. She left."

"I thought you two were official now?"

I looked up in her eyes and sighed, wondering if I should tell her the truth or not but I decided that I would never hide her anything anymore. It brought too much shit into our life to simply lie about a sex story that I didn't want to risk it again.

"We were... are... I don't know. She asked me if I'd ever love her as much as I love you."

Olivia's eyes got bigger and I just shrugged, shaking my head. I didn't know what else to say but I knew she was expecting some explanations and I just let go of her hands to wipe mine on my pants. There was no reason for me to be so nervous but I was and I just inhaled deeply.

"I don't think you realize how jealous of you Maya is."

Olivia's lips were parted and she was looking at me a bit shocked by my revelation. If I wanted to be honest, I felt like Maya's jealousy was extremely obvious but at the same time, i could understand that Liv hadn't noticed it. In the past few weeks, I had realized just how insecure my best friend was and I knew it was partially my fault. She had told me about a few comments she read online, comments that I hadn't even noticed, but I could understand they had hurt her even if I honestly thought she should never give hate any kind of attention.

"What did you tell her."

I raised my eyebrows, surprised that my answer was all she cared about but also by the vulnerability in her voice. Were my words that important? Did it really matter to her that my love for her was stronger than my love for anyone else?

"I told her no to go there, that it wasn't to her advantage."

She stared at me a few more seconds, her eyes roaming on my face, and I was close to tell her how much I loved her when she threw herself in my arms. I held her close to me, pressing her body against mine although we were both sitting in weird position. The hug was a bit awkward but she squirmed closer to me and I buried my nose in her neck and closed my eyes, my arms completely wrapped around her. It felt good and it had been way too long since the last time I held her close to me like that. It made me want to never let go.

I felt my heart twist when she moved away but I let my eyes roam on her face for the hundredth time in the last hour, as if i hadn't seen it in forever, and it really felt like it.

"How are you and Harry?" I asked, almost scared of the answer.

"We're okay."

I knew our couples were not a good discussion to have if only for the fact that so many things happened when we were apart and we were not sure where we stood. We both didn't really agree with those relationships and it was tough to handle for both of us. If I wanted to be honest, I also felt guilty for telling her that I wouldn't date Maya and the doing then opposite but I was grateful she hadn't mentioned it.

"We're staying friends this time, right?" I asked, raising my eyebrows and waiting until her eyes met mine. "Please, Olivia."

She just remained motionless, looking at me with a sad expression, and there was nothing I wanted more than to make her smile. I sighed and without thinking more, I spat awfully in my hand, making her head move back slightly in surprise. Her eyes moved down to the hand I was showing her and then back in my eyes and she smiled. Fondly, this time.

"Best friends forever?"

She chuckled and shook her head before spitting in her hand too. We shook hands and the feeling of our spits spreading in my palm made me grimace in disgust. My face made her laugh loudly and I closed my eyes.

"Best friends forever."

When we took our hands back, we both laughed and just got up, rushing to the sink. We washed out hands together and I glanced at her, noticing that her smile was back. Her happiness had always been a priority for me but it was even more real now that I knew how much I had hurt her in the past.

"Hey, how about we go to the movies, you know? See that movie you watched without me?"

She looked up at she was wiping her hands on a towel and raised her eyebrows, a smile still gracing her lips... the lips I had just kissed a few minutes earlier. Why did I do that?

"Alright, let me get changed."

She rushed to her room and came back ten minutes later. I chuckled and shook my head when my eyes fell on her shirt and I looked up in her eyes again.

"You're not going to wear that, right?"

She grinned, totally amused and glad that it had the effect she most likely expected, and I looked down again only to see five familiar faces, including mine, printed on her shirt.

"A One Direction shirt?"

"Yea, and worn while hanging out with a One Direction boy. I think it fits." she explained, grabbing her purse before pushing her hand between the cushions of her couch, probably searching for something.

"We were like, 16 or something on that shirt!" I pointed out.

"No you were 18, it was not so long ago, remember?" she asked, putting on the cap she had just found in the couch.

"No!" I joked, making her laugh again.

Her eyes met mine and I suddenly felt better, like something had lighted up inside me. I put my hands in my pockets and she walked up to me, tilting her chin up to look at me.

"Are you okay walking around in public with me wearing this shirt?"

At this point, if I wanted to be honest with myself, I was ready to do anything she would ask me to do, if only to make sure I wouldn't lose her again. But I didn't tell her that, I couldn't tell her that.

"Will be tough but yes."

She chuckled, rolling her eyes, and just grabbed my arm, pulling me with her. We took her car and when she parked in front of the movie theater, I rushed out to open her door for her. She got out of the car and I pushed on the door to close it as she stared at me.

"Thank you," she let out, her eyebrows raised. "When did you get so gallant?"

I bent down with a smirk, my face now very close to hers.

"I always was."

I stopped breathing when I saw her eyes drop to my lips and I was wondering if she was thinking about the short and plain kiss I gave her in her kitchen, because I was, and it was annoying.

"Come on." I said after clearing my throat, moving back but wrapping on of my arms on her shoulders. "My treat."

"Thanks, i love your rich ass." she joked as I paid for the tickets.

I turned her way and bent slightly to grab her hand, pulling her inside me with after taking the tickets.

"Now, you're not aloud to laugh at the jokes before they happen, or talk over the characters." I point out, still holding her hand, both our arms stretched as she stood slightly away from me. "I know you. I watched 'Back to the Future' a millionth times with you, you're an ass and you literally tell the dialogues at the same time than the characters. Out loud."

"I'm not an ass!" she laughed, squeezing my fingers.

I pulled on her hand and made her twirl as she laughed more and finally took her closer into an other hug. Her laughter was light and happy and once again, it made my heart twist in my chest. I had missed her so much, way too much. And there was no way I was going to let her go again. I was going to make her my priority, no matter what shit it would get me into.

[skamandallthat]

Less Than Five Minutes (Part 10/?)

I literally don't know what happened with this chapter. This wasn't what I had planned but as soon as I started swimming through Matteo's head, he lead me here. It was hard. I'm still sort of shaken.

Content Warning: Panic Attack

This will be on Ao3 soon if you'd prefer to read it there. My username is "bumbershootindeed".

Y'all know the spiel about comments by now. They're my lifeblood, blah blah blah. (They really are. I will never be able to explain.)

God, I'm drained.

--

I'm trying to figure some stuff out. I'm not running but I need some time. Don't hate me.

David’s thumb hovered over the send button.

You're my favorite thing right now.

Makes this easier.

Don't.

Not like this, okay?

He hits send.

--

The past few weeks had been everything. Horrible, yet everything.

Everything had changed now that Matteo knew how David felt.

He saw something different now in everything David did. Every movement before, every movement now was more clear to him, had more meaning.

He finally had answers to what he had been asking. Asking silently. Begging for, but never outright.

Matteo has a new sort of understanding for David. How he worked, how he thought.

It wasn't quite enough, though. He still had more questions. So many questions.

But so much more was making sense. It helped.

David wanted him, he just wasn't ready.

That night with Laura he knew exactly what David was thinking. Matteo was thinking it too. Wanting it too. Needing it.

Needing him.

But he had stopped him.

Why?

Why, why, why, why, why?

Because it wasn't right like this. It hurt too much. There was no promise yet.

Matteo wasn't convinced David wouldn't run as soon as it all started.

They needed to be sure first. David needed to be sure.

How could he make him sure?

His head spun. It spun and spun and spun.

Pretending was so hard. Pretending was so confusing when it didn't feel like pretending.

It felt wrong, though. Preliminary. Unearned.

Like he was showing David what he'd do if it was real.

Matteo wasn't great with words. Even when he had the right ones he really struggled to get them out.

Getting out the 'don't' was just about the hardest thing he'd ever said.

He was so confused.

He didn't know what right now meant. How long it would last. Would right now be forever? Would David ever trust him?

Please. Trust me. I'm not gonna hurt you. I could never do that.

Don't you see that you're everything?

Why won't you let me see all of you? I want to see it all.

Why won't you let me love you? Why won't you let me take care of you?

I want to take care of you.

Please.

David felt so close and yet so far away. Matteo didn't know what to do. What moves to make now.

He didn't know what David needed. Time?

Was he just supposed to wait around and keep pretending? David was using him, hurting him.

David would have kissed him if Matteo hadn't stopped him.

But Matteo didn't know what it would've meant to David. To Matteo, it would've been a consummation.

He thinks to David it would've been a test.

He looks down at his phone. Reads the text again.

To: Matteo

From: David

I'm trying to figure some stuff out. I'm not running but I need some time. Don't hate me.

What stuff?

How much time?

I could never! Don't you get that?

His thumbs hover over his keyboard, moving but never clicking. He looks up, tears well.

Looks down.

Types.

To: David

From: Matteo

I don't hate you but I hate this.

That should do it, right? Would that get it across?

Hate is a strong word.

It's the perfect word.

He hates this.

He hates not knowing all the why’s. He hates not knowing what David’s thinking.

He had more now, sure.

It was enough for a few days.

But now he just had so many questions. The questions spun in his head. Over and over. Aching. Breaking him.

Why right now?

Why won't he let Matteo in, fully?

He wondered how long David thought they could keep this lie going. What was his goal? Forever?

If not forever, then why?

If he was comfortable with having Laura, the most important person in his life, believe that he and Matteo were together, why wasn't David comfortable with the idea of the real thing?

David had told him many things about Laura.

She saved me. I'm whole again because of her. There aren't words.

Matteo felt that way about David.

He spins, and spins. There's so much ringing, so much noise. It won't stop. It has to stop.

A buzz.

To: Matteo

From: David

I know. I'm working on it.

The spinning continues. Matteo can't breathe. The tears fall.

To: David

From: Matteo

I need you.

The reply is instant.

To: Matteo

From: David

Now or in general?

Both. Always both.

To: David

From: Matteo

Now. I know you need time but the spinning won't stop.

Again, less than thirty seconds.

To: Matteo

From: David

I'm on my way.

Matteo takes a breath. Puts his headphones on. Drowns it out. He wants to roll a joint. David would be upset with him.

Matteo learned a while ago not to smoke when he's spinning out. It makes things bearable but he becomes dependent.

David was always there to remind him of that.

I get it, but it's dangerous for you. You need to be careful.

He rolls it anyway. Smokes it. Time slows down. It makes the wait for David harder.

Tears don't stop falling. They're slow, sullen.

The apartment bell buzzes. Matteo takes his headphones off. Someone else answers.

Must be Linn.

“What's the password?”

Something only she would say.

He hears David's voice,

“Let me in, Linn.”

Linn doesn't respond. She buzzes him up.

Matteo still can't breathe. He wants his eyes to stay closed forever. He has to drag them open when David kneels in front of him. Puts his hands on his knees. Rubs softly.

Ow.

Matteo closes his eyes again. More tears. Less breathing.

Please stop.

You're hurting me.

I need you, but if I told you that I couldn't do this without the promise you'd leave.

It hurts.

Please.

“Teo, you need to breathe.” David whispers. “Please, breathe with me.”

Tears keep falling the entire time.

In four. Hold. Out four. Good. Thank you. You've got this, come on. In four. Hold. Out four…

When Matteo opens his eyes again, he wants to disappear. Crawl out of his skin.

He feels so pathetic.

Thinking about David had caused the panic.

But being with David also soothed it. Fixed it. Healed him.

What did he do with that? What did that mean?

That wasn't healthy, right? This wasn't healthy.

Why was David doing this to him?

Couldn't he see what he was doing?

How he was breaking him?

Didn't he care?

“I'm so sorry.” David's voice was hoarse. He was sorry? So he knew. He knew and he was doing it anyway. “I'm trying, I promise. I'm gonna fix it.” Matteo took in a shaky breath. The exhale stuttered.

“I trust you.” Matteo breathed. They made eye contact. David had dried tears all over his cheeks. There were still a few left behind, yet to be shed, hanging in his eyes. His lips were parted, chapped. Glorious. Too much. “I just want you to trust me too.” David exhaled, shaky. As his eyes closed, the last of the tears dripped out.

“I know, I just...” David looked up, shook his head. “Matteo, I have so much work to do.” David removed one of his hands from Matteo’s knees. He gestured at himself. “I'm not... I'm so unfinished, I…” David swallowed. Took a deep breath. “I just want to be… more.” Matteo’s breath hitched. “More me, for you.”

Matteo swallowed. Took it in.

David was here.

I want to be more me, for you.

David was honest.

He was getting more.

They were finally getting somewhere.

Matteo can breathe with that.

“Okay.”

They held their stare for a while. By the end Matteo felt raw. Opened, completely.

David looked like he felt the same.

Finally, open. Not all the way. But closer.

More.

[edream93]

I’m Hooked On All These Feelings (Harry of Auradon AU) Part 10

Hey everyone! Sorry that I haven’t updated since October. It was a combination of being stuck and just having a lot of different stuff going on in my life. I’m honestly not 100% satisfied with this chapter but let me know what you all think. This is also posted on on AO3 or FF.net. Here’s the link for Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3, Part 4, Part 5,  Part 6 ,  Part 7, Part 8, and Part 9 of the story so far.

EARLIER

Uma crossed, then uncrossed, her legs. Her foot began tapping a staccato beat as she watched Evie step back from Gil and admire her work in the moon’s light. 

Though Evie had assured her that Carlos had taken care of the cell’s security system and that the apple turnovers laced with sleeping potion would keep the guards knocked out until well into the next day, that still didn’t ease Uma’s need to constantly look over her shoulder. When one was used to things going wrong, one couldn’t help but fear glowing green eyes hiding around each corner ready to cause trouble. 

Evie and Carlos had helped her this far, but Isle habits still made Uma’s skin crawl with anxiety, waiting for either a setup or for them to finally demand a price for their help. Afterall, it had been only her and Gil for so long that she found it hard to trust anyone else. Nothing was free. Everything came with a price. That was the one thing her mother made sure she remembered.  

  Afterall, Evie was working her magic on their makeup disguises. Literally. If Uma was in her position, she would be charging by every brush stroke.  

Despite applying several different products that Uma could never hope to keep track of, the Evil Queen’s daughter had worked her magic with a makeup brush and fake hair making Gil look like himself...but also, not like himself. She glanced over at Gil once again but after a few seconds of staring she felt her eyes and thoughts begin to slide off Gil if she didn’t force herself to focus on him. Uma knew that if she looked in a mirror the makeup Evie had done just a few minutes ago on her would have had a similar effect. 

“Her magic is definitely less flashy than Mal’s. It’s like a notice-me-not spell or something,” Carlos brought her attention to him. He stood awkwardly, fiddling with a loose thread of his jacket’s sleeve. Despite his mother’s obsession with dogs and constantly being referred to as “pup” amongst many of the Isle residents, Carlos reminded Uma more of a skittish and weary cat more than anything else. “T-that would be useful back home,” he murmured so softly Uma almost didn’t hear him. 

Her hand reached up to twirl one of her braids thoughtfully around her finger. The motion stopped suddenly when she remembered she had hastily cut and taken her braids out, before twisting her much shorter hair into flat braids against her skull and pulling one of the theatre clubs stolen black wigs over it. 

It was itchy and tight against her scalp and she wanted nothing more than to rip it off. 

 “Back home?” Uma scowled. “You sound like you’re planning to make a trip back there,” she commented before letting out a humorless chuckle. She quirked a brow as she leaned against one of the library’s many tables. “What? Miss the moldy food and the constant risk of catching pneumonia or hypothermia already?”

Carlos ran a hand over the book spines on a nearby shelf, the corner of his lips tugged down thoughtfully. “Guess I’m just not that optimistic about this whole wand thing. That Mal or her mom won’t try to cut out any competition once she’s free. And who knows,” he shrugged absentmindedly pulling out a book, flipping through the pages, “after the Coronation, the Isle may not be the worst place to be in once Auradon goes up in flames.” He paused putting the book back. Then, he glanced over his shoulder at her, observing her silently as if weighing his options before saying, “Unless...”

Uma narrowed her eyes. “Unless what, De Vil?”

Nervous energy radiated off of him in almost palpable waves so Uma was slightly impressed when Carlos looked up at her, gaze steady. “Unless someone gives Mal a run for her money and stands up to her.”

Pausing, Uma let his words sink in before she let out a short laugh of disbelief at his utterly ridiculous insinuation. ‘He couldn’t mean- That would be ridiculous!’ she thought to herself before saying out loud, “Hm, right. You sure that Tourney helmet is actually protecting that big brain of yours when you get tackled? Because you must have some brain damage, De Vil, if you think that-

“I was there you know,” Carlos cut her off, voice seeming loud in the quiet library. His cheeks and the top of his ears reddened but he continued. “When, um. When the shrimp thing happened...” 

Uma stilled. It was like she could feel the cold slime of rotten shrimp sliding down the back of her shirt all over again. Her hand reached up once again to grab a braid that wasn’t there, to check and see if there was any trace of the smell. Her shoulders hunched and Mal’s ten year old laugh rang in her head. 

It felt like drowning. Drowning when you didn’t even know your head had been above water in the first place. 

“Yeah? So? A whole bunch of people were there! Ya want a sticker for that or something?” Uma hissed, all defensive walls and a bruised heart as she stepped toe to toe with the boy. “If you want to satisfy that praise kink of yours find someone else, pup!”

Behind them, Uma sensed Gil taking a closer step towards her. Gil hadn’t been there when Mal poured the bucket but he had been there for everything else - protecting her, patching her up, sitting with her and rambling about unimportant things in her darkest of moments until she could find the strength to cling onto his words with a tired attempt to mock him - and that alone made Uma hold her head up high, rage controlled but ready to crash down like a wave at any moment. 

She didn’t owe this pup anything.

Carlos’s frame shook. The one person on the Isle whose life may have been worse than her own. Despite his obvious fear, his eyes never broke from hers. 

“I saw you,” Carlos firmly stated. “You laughed at Mal but…”

“BUT?” Uma demanded, her patience on its last string. She could feel the heat coming off of Gil from behind her and she knew her friend was giving his most intimidating glare. Carlos, however, must have taken some actual courage potion because he still didn’t back down.

“But you came back for her!” 

Uma baulked, taking an unconscious step back into Gil as if she had been slapped, not prepared for that response.

 “When anyone else wouldn’t have cared. You did. You tried to help her because you knew she couldn’t swim. She was your friend and that was what friends do. They care.”

Uma closed her eyes, the tense energy released from her in a breath until all she felt was tired. She pinched her brow. “Yeah,” she sighed softly. “My stupidest mistake. More reason why I’m not- why I’m not...whatever you’re trying to make me be.”

“Why not?” Evie’s voice caused Uma to spin around and face the girl. She had been unusually quiet, much different from her airheaded chatty persona she put on around Mal and the royals. 

Honestly, if there was anyone right now that Uma felt weary of it was Evie. Mal she expected to be cruel. Jay she expected to do whatever was in his best interest. Carlos she expected to align himself with whoever would beat him up less. Evie...well, Uma can’t imagine being exiled to stay in a rundown castle with the Evil Queen to have left anyone without some...resentment...   

“You’re cunning,” Evie ticked off her fingers. “You’re smart. And you’re powerful.”

Powerful? That was not a word that Uma would ever associate with herself, especially not on the Isle. But Uma prided herself on being able to figure out what others wanted and how to exploit that the best way she could. Evie had no tell though. She was being honest, a rare occurrence with Isle kids but that just meant the girl was delusional because Uma did not have magic.

There had been that slight fluke when they had crossed the bridge from the Isle to Auradon in the limo weeks ago. It was like the ebb and flow of waves caressing her bones briefly in recognition before it sputtered out.

One could argue that she had felt her magic for the first time. Her magic which the Isle’s barrier had muted for all of her life, leaving an inexplicable ache that she had never truly been aware of. 

Days passed after crossing over into Auradon and Mal performed spells from her spellbook as easily as breathing. Evie was able to use her mother’s mirror or stitch together the most heinous looking patterns into wearable art. Uma, however, had to resign herself to the fact that she didn’t have any magic. 

She couldn’t make the small stream of water from the water fountain splash itself into Char Charming’s face after he had called Gil stupid. The potions she brewed for the gullible royals and nobles were just a mix of herbal concoctions that at their best could help with their users indigestion and heartburn when consumed and at their worst were a slow and long acting laxative. They didn’t give a person courage. They could not make someone fall in love or more beautiful. Uma was the daughter of the world’s most feared sea witch. That lineage, as she quickly learned in her first week in Auradon, did not mean that Uma herself was a sea witch. 

Uma was destined not for greatness. It made the idea that anyone could think that she could ever have a chance to go toe-to-toe with Mal laughable...and cruel. It made every time Harry declared her a goddess a painful chip against her heart.

“Uma,” Evie stepped forward slowly. She took measured steps as if approaching a frightened animal ready to flee at any second. Once she was close enough, she took Uma’s only slightly resistant hands in her surprisingly strong grip. “You may not see it but I do. What you’ve hid for years, even from yourself. But we,” she nodded towards Carlos and Gil. “We see it. A storm that has been brewing and brewing for years.”

Uma turned slightly to see both Gil and Carlos nodding affirmingly.

“And your sailor does too,” Evie knowingly added with a prim chuckle.

“He’s not mine,” Uma wanted to reply back hotly but the memory of bright blue eyes filled with something...something that she wanted to hoard for herself caused her to pause. 

Smiling gently, Evie leaned forward and kissed Uma on the cheek, squeezing her hands briefly before letting go and taking a step back. 

“Whatever you decide to do, I don’t think any of us would judge you after all that you’ve been through,” Evie said as she began packing all of her things into her makeup bag before pulling out an envelope from seemingly out of nowhere. 

“They’re identification,” Carlos clarified. “Passports and stuff that I made that’ll help you cross over to the neutral kingdoms. No one should expect that they’re not the real thing.” 

Uma stomach turned as she looked up from the envelope, looking back and forth between Evie and Carlos. Good fake IDs weren’t cheap afterall. “What do I owe you then?”

Evie shrugged. “You may not believe this but we really don’t have any ulterior motives. We...” she sighed, for once not looking like the prim and proper princess she was taught to be but just a girl who was just trying her best. “We just couldn’t take how Mal was treating you anymore. No one deserves that.”

Uma’s frown deepened. So this was pity?

“And anything that makes Mal get all red in the face and isn’t directed at me is a win in my book,” Carlos said attempting to sound too disinterested. “Plus I have a better idea of how lame their computer security is here after bursting Gil out. It’s bound to come in handy at some point. So you’re doing us a favor.” 

Uma nodded, afraid if she said anything she would mess things up. She put the envelope into one of the hastily packed bags she had made for herself and Gil before they broke him out. 

“I’d advise you to keep moving until you hear the outcome of the Coronation,” Evie instructed as she handed one of her bags to Carlos. “Whether or not Mal’s plans for the wand work, someone will probably be after you as soon as they realize you’re both gone. The makeup should last long enough, even if you wash your face, so you’ll be unrecognizable,” she explained confirming Uma’s theory that the other girl had used some sort of magic to disguise them. 

With that said, Evie spun on her heel before strutting out of the library, Carlos throwing a hasty wave over his shoulder as he followed her. 

And then, it was just Uma and Gil. 

Biting her lip, Uma turned towards the window that looked out over the forest surrounding Auradon Prep. Just a little way past the treelines, she could make out the hazy shape of the Isle, surrounded by gray clouds and smog. It had been her prison for crimes that she had never committed. It was that way for everyone born there. Running away had always felt like a dream until it was no longer a dream but reality…

Her hand unconsciously clasped around the shell necklace she had exchanged for her own along with her heart to a blue eyed sailor. She hadn’t even said goodbye to Harry. He was really too good for her. At least he was awake now. He could go back to living his perfect life surrounded by his perfect friends and family. There was no place really for someone like Uma. 

“Let’s go,” she murmured softly, quickly wiping away a stray tear that had fallen. They were wasting time. They needed to get as far away as possible.

“But-” Gil began.

“I said we’re going!” Uma’s voice grew hard before shoving one of their packed bags at him. Gil looked from the bag in his hands to his friends quickly retreating back before quickly catching up with her. 

A day later, Uma pulled Gil’s old jacket tighter around her for warmth. They were still too close to Auradon City to light a proper fire without being noticed. 

Judging by the map that Carlos had printed off for them, they were about half a day ways from the Hundred Acre Woods that bordered Camelot and Sherwood Forest. Though Auadon as a whole had taken a step forward towards modern, non-magic advancement, that stretch of land was known for its prime camping scenery with its thick and lush greenery, totally untouched by electronic distractions. It wouldn’t be strange for someone to build a small contained campfire without being questioned. Plus, they probably had better chances of surviving in general in the woods where Gil could be in his hunting element than they would be in a busy city where they could easily be recognized, despite the wigs they both wore and the fake beard that Evie had expertly applied to Gil’s chin.

“Don’t.” Uma distractedly slapped Gil’s hand away from his face where his fingers were itching to scratch at the fake patch of hair on his chin. He pouted momentarily, fiddling with his hands as he glanced around to distract himself from the itchiness.

They were in a small abandoned lighthouse on the coast, north-west of Auradon City. The soft crashing of waves filled the silence between them as Uma systematically took everything out of their packs to take inventory. 

Anything to get her mind away from distracting thoughts.

“Evie and Carlos are super nice for helping us,” Gil broke the silence just as Uma tossed him two granola bars. They had more than enough to last them for a few weeks if they rationed well.

“They aren’t nice,” Uma denied. “Probably just wanted to use us as a distraction for Mal so they can have her try at stabbing her in the back.”

Gil scratched the back of his neck, frowning. “If you say so…” he said not sounding totally convinced before taking a bite out of his granola bar. 

“I do!” Uma would have stumped her foot if she had been standing up. She pulled her knees to her chest, choosing to avoid his gaze. Instead, her eyes fell on something that was peeking out of the teal jacket that Evie had somehow managed to sneak into Uma’s bag when she hadn’t been looking. 

Rolling onto her knees, Uma reached out for the jacket. She leaned back on her haunches as she pulled out the small square of paper that had caught her eye.

A photo.

It showed a dashing young man with perfectly messy dark hair standing close but not touching the young woman next to him. Though she instantly knew who the young man was, It took Uma longer than she would like to admit to recognize that the young woman, with her hand captured midair on its way to push aside an errant curl away from bright blue eyes, as herself even with the telltale teal braids. Harry’s face wore a soft smirk as the fingers of one hand gently reached out for the hand at her side.

“You look different.” 

She looked over her shoulder to see that Gil had moved silently closer to see what she was holding.  

“He was different,” Uma answered truthfully. She took one last glance at the photo, memorizing the way she looked so...unlike herself. She paused, searching for the right word before she landed on it: happy. She looked completely and utterly happy in the fic. 

“Uma?” Gil questioned after she hadn’t moved or said anything for a few moments. 

Blinking as if jolted from deep within her thoughts, Uma turned to Gil, her hand clutching the Never-shell necklace, a faint but steady warmth emitting from it.

“Why have you stayed with me this long, Gil?” she asked before she could even really think about the question or what answer would be easier to hear. 

Tilting his head to the side as if she had just asked why he loved eggs, Gil responded slowly, unsure if he was answering right. Best friend or not, Uma had a temper when she got impatient with him sometimes.

“Because you’re Uma,” he finally settled on. He reached out and gently squeezed her fingers, giving an unsure but warm smile. “Because you’re my best friend.”

Uma choked back a sob at the simple admission. Her mind went back to an alley where this same boy offered easily his own pain to her just to make her feel better. The large calloused hands that held hers now had been the ones that had fumbled but worked diligently to patch her up every time Mal or anyone else on the Isle thought she needed a reminder of where she fell on the Isle’s food chain.

Gil had kept her sane. Motivating her with bumbling but endearing words and acts of encouragement and loyalty that made every taunt, every encounter with Mal, every hazy dream tinged with jealousy and relief of a blue eyed boy surrounded by love just a bit more bearable. 

If Harry was her anchor, grounding in a way that made her realize her life had always felt off kilter up until they had met, then Gil was her compass, pointing her back to herself. And when she really focused on herself, truly focused on her desires and not on the shackles of fear and humiliation that Mal had bound her with - that Uma had allowed herself to be bound with - she felt something powerful stir inside her.

It was like a tsunami; how the tides pulled away from the shore, gathering and gathering into a wave that once it fell would be in escapable. Her blood hummed with electricity, lightning imbued. Uma felt like she was at the edge of something that she equally both couldn’t name but welcomed, like wakefulness after a restful nap. Like a lost key that had finally been turned in a lock.

Magic thrummed lazily in the air and Uma could feel every branch and curl of it. She felt her own unconscious magic that tasted like sea salt, scuffed knees, and trust born out of loyalty and admiration that hung thick with age over Gil protectively like a blanket. She felt Evie’s magic, surprisingly subtle, woven into each stitch of the teal jacket she still held in her hands, strength, courage, and cunning breathed into it. 

And the necklace…

Tears welled up in her eyes as she held tightly onto the warm and softly humming Never-shell. The magic that wafted from it smelled like a sea breeze, mutual respect, gentle touches, and unhindered smiles with bright blue eyes. 

Faith. Trust. And pixie dust. 

 The word “love” floated to mind and the necklace pulsed in acknowledgement, feelings reflected but not hers pouring through like a gate finally opened.

“Did I-did I not answer that right?” Gil frowned disappointedly, shoulders hunched when he saw her tears.

Uma closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. A smile filled simultaneously with lingering fear, uncertainty, and fondness played on her lips as she made up her mind, plans culminating into a long overdue storm, just as Evie had said.. 

Opening her eyes, Uma was going to respond when she noticed something else in the pocket of the teal jacket.

She laughed, the only response she could think of when she pulled out what she could only assume was a burner phone. When she opened the scream, she wasn’t as surprised as she should have been when she saw the name of the only contact programmed into the phone.

Not even giving herself a moment to second guess herself, Uma pressed the contact number, bringing the phone up to her ear. It rang three times before it was finally answered.

“Uma,” a certain voice said her name like a prayer. Like her name itself was worth more than gold or life itself. 

It made Uma’s heart flutter. “This is love,” Uma thought, squeezing Gil’s hand.

“Hey,” she responded into the phone. “How do you feel about breaking some rules? For the greater good, of course,” she tacked on winking at Gil who grinned back.

If Mal was going to eventually take her out, might as well give that purple lizard something to sweat about, right?

---

THE MORNING OF THE CORONATION

Ben always seemed to know when Harry’s thoughts ran heavy even before Harry could hide them behind dashing smiles and his playful flirty nature. 

Ben supposed that’s why they had always been so close. The Prince had always been able to notice the chaotic storm that built within his friend when no one else noticed. When no one else understood. It was probably also because Ben had his own raging beast that bellowed, chained, within him that no one else noticed. That no one else understood…

Except Harry.

The prince and sailor noticed each other. Understood each other. They allowed each other to just...be without the shoulder breaking expectations of a soon to be king and his soon to be royal advisor. They saw each other and all their messy complexities and doubts and fears, a deep sense of trust and respect born out of years of being little boys thrown together with expectations and responsibilities that they could have never had comprehended at such a young age. 

But now as young men, voices still deepening and uncertainty a familiar staple of their identity, they looked out the window of their once shared playroom within the gilded halls of Auradon Castle at the kingdom before them. 

The roads leading up to the castle were quiet this early, just barely kissed by the sun’s light. An hour or two more and they would hear Cogsworth shouting out orders to the maids and butlers and Lumiere singing in the halls doing a fantastic job of both helping his old friend and driving him one foot closer to the grave (or retirement as he always threatened). Mrs. Potts would undoubtedly walk into each of their old rooms, pushing the curtains aside to let in the morning light, moving across the room as wonderfully dizzying as a spinning teacup. She would mother-hen them into getting ready like they were still the rambunctious eight year olds, too tired to do anything other than let her fuss and cluck over them. 

So many fond memories were embedded into the walls of this castle for these two young men, when their world seemed just as big as the two of them. A selfish part of Ben wanted to stop time, to extend the carefreeness of his childhood just a bit longer.

Finally, Ben broke the silence, his words seemingly all the more loud and weighty in the dawn. “In a few hours, everything will be different. Everything will change.”

Harry glanced over at the prince, his soon-to-be king, and friend. His brother not in blood but in all the ways that mattered the most.

“You’ll be High King,” Harry nodded thoughtfully, a small smirk on his lips though his eyes held something much deeper. “Beasty King Junior,” he ruffled Ben’s hair teasingly.

Ben chuckled, shoving Harry slightly, letting his hair stay the messy nest Harry had created.

Putting a firm hand on the prince’s shoulder, Harry’s voice was firm and serious as he said, “You’ll be High King Benjamin Maurice DeFlorian, Auradon’s Just and Benevolent King.”

Ben shrugged off Harry’s hand only to almost knock them both over with a sudden and tight embrace. Harry didn’t hesitate to return the hug just as tight once his balance was stable.

 “I guess this is where I’m supposed to say how you’ll be Royal Captain Harry Jones, Hand to the King and Lieutenant of the Royal Navy. My loyal advisor and friend,” Ben murmured before pushing away slightly so they could see each other, brown eyes staring knowingly into blue. “But that won’t be happening tomorrow...will it?”

Harry didn’t even try to lie. But he didn’t share the truth either. And he loved Ben for not making him tell. Instead, he merely said, “I know you’ll be a king I’ll be proud of.” He swallowed the lump in his throat, the stinging in his eyes. “And I’ll always consider you a friend.” 

They pulled apart, both of them committing this moment to memory, their companionable silence hanging over them like an unsaid good-bye. 

---

“I can’t believe you still do not understand how to tie a proper knot, Harry!” 

Said boy couldn’t help but let out a fond and amused huff of air as he stared down at the top of Audrey’s perfectly styled and crowned head as she none too gently fixed his tie.

They could both hear the crowd cheering excitedly outside, waiting for their soon to be king to arrive at the Grand Hall of King Adam and Queen’s Belle castle. 

“Surprised you didn’t take Ben up on his offer,” Harry murmured just before choking as Audrey made his tie too tight.

“Oops,” she said not even sounding remorseful at all when the boy let out a strangled sound when she tugged too tight. “And I’m a princess, Harry. It would look tasteless to ride with Ben in his coronation chariot after he broke up with me, instigated by a love spell or not. A princess takes pity from no one. I mean, can you imagine what people would have said?”

Harry rolled his eyes, keeping his thoughts on the matter to himself.

“Anyway, where is Calista Jane?” Audrey glanced around the room as if she half expected the half-pixie to appear out of nowhere and startle her with a prank of some sort like CJ was often prone to do when they were younger. 

“Wasn’t feeling well,” Harry smoothly answered, looking at a spot right above Audrey’s head. “Didn’t help that old dad isn’t showing up to this.”

“Poor dear,” Audrey said before her hands stilled, pretty face shifting into genuine concern. “And you? How are you holding up?”

Allowing himself to let out a long sigh, Harry could only shrug. “He takes his duty keeping the waters of Auradon safe very seriously. He’s always been like that so didn’t expect much of a change now.” 

Audrey looked like she wanted to say something but she remembered herself and what was expected of her, so she kept her thoughts about how poor of a father the naval leader was to herself. She took another few seconds to finish with his tie before taking a step back. 

Harry waited silently, watching as she took in his outfit, from how his freshly pressed white dress shirt tucked into tailored black dress slacks and under a dark gold embroidered double breasted waistcoat. Audrey frowned as she adjusted the collar of his long red leather jacket before her previous downturned lips (“Because princesses don’t scowl, Harry!”) smoothed into a pleased expression. 

“There you go,” Audrey turned him towards the mirror. “A dashingly handsome young sailor.”

“Yeah,” Harry found himself swallowing thickly around the words. “Ye did well, lass.”

It was a testament to apparently how well even Audrey knew him that she didn’t pinch his hand for slipping back into the heavy brogue he had a habit of falling into when he was feeling a bit overwhelmed.

“No need to worry,” Audrey placed a light hand on his arm. “You’ll be a great second in command. And besides, everyone will be paying more attention to Ben than you. You just need to stand there and look pretty. Shouldn’t be hard for you.”

Harry looked down at her, taking in Audrey’s pretty smile and soft features and the obvious care and concern she had for those close to her that she for some reason thought was important to hide behind a pretty and vapid mask. Though they had never been as close as he and Ben had been growing up, so many of his childhood memories contained Audrey at their side or somewhere nearby in the background. She was basically like a third sister: annoying, always driving him up the wall, but he would knock out anyone who dared hurt her. (Good thing Harry was under a sleeping curse and Ben had the excuse of being under a love spell when he crushed Audrey’s heart.)

“Audrey…” Harry began. 

Audrey didn’t look up from the mirror as she fussed over invisible imperfections with her perfectly done hair. Typical Audrey, he thought fondly.

 “What is it Harry?” she murmured applying a fresh coat of lip gloss.

“Nothing,” Harry softly sighed, looking away. “You look beautiful.”

Audrey merely rolled her eyes, giving herself one final once over in the mirror before the warning trumpets began to play, signalling Ben’s arrival. “Of course, Harry. I’m a princess. Now we can’t dilly dally for yours and Ben’s big day. Move it mister! Today will be a day to be remembered!”

Harry nodded, offering Audrey his arm to guide her back to her parents before he took his position next to Ben’s parents. Today would be a day to remember.

---

Mal glared at Evie after the Evil Queen’s daughter smacked her hand away from the delicate fabric of her dress’s high neckline. 

“Ah, ah, ah,” Evie tsked, taking a moment to pluck some of Dude’s hair from Carlos’s coat and to tuck a loose strand of hair back into Jay’s bun. “You’ll ruin the lace.”

“How about I ruin your face, princess?” Mal hissed before shoving pass some royals who had the misfortune of getting in her way.

Her patience was practically nonexistent at this point and Mal didn’t care that everyone could see that.

With Auradon on high alert after Uma and Gil’s jailbreak and escape (the exact how still under investigation since there was no sign of physical or magical forced entry), the remaining four VKs were under constant watch despite Mal’s convincing performance with Fairy Godmother earlier that week. That meant that any attempt to try a repeat of the love spell on the Prince to try to get closer to the wand had to be thrown out the window leaving Mal shit out of luck. 

Neither Jay, Carlos, or Evie pointed out the way that Mal’s hands shook or how her eyes seemed to constantly be glowing with barely tethered control. It didn’t help that Fairy Godmother had thought it would be “good” idea to set up a video chat with their parents the day before since Maleficent, Evil Queen, Cruella, and Jafar obviously couldn’t make it to the complete and utter clusterfuck that was Family Day.

Yeah...a talk with her mother was exactly the confidence booster that Mal needed when even the Isle knew of Shrimpy’s little jail break was such uber fun. (NOT!) Even Ursulla, who had also been there during the video chat had laughed in the background like some demented soundtrack of Mal’s failure as Maleificent grew more and more angry with her only child.

There was no more time for mistakes. With determination as hot and unyielding as the fires of hell, Mal’s eyes landed quickly on her prey.

“What’s she doing?” she heard Carlos nervously whisper somewhere behind her as she continued to walk further, closer towards the part of the hall reserved specifically for all of the upper tier royals and several ass kissing sidekicks.

Jay must have said something in response to silence the runt but Mal didn’t give it any thought. 

Mal could not allow herself to fail again.

 She reached her hand into the obnoxiously delicate looking handbag she had made Evie design, pulling out a sewing needle just as she came up behind the once again mousy looking plain Jane. 

“That’ll teach the sorry excuse for a fairy to bite the hand that magiced up flawless hair for her, Mal thought remembering the way that Jane and everyone else had looked down upon them after a series of escalating events during Family Day, starting with a wonderful family reunion with Queen Leah literally two minutes after Mal’s and the other’s arrival. Perhaps in another world, Mal would have been moved by Prince Ben’s promise that he would make everyone understand that even Isle kids deserve a chance. But this was not that world and the Prince’s blind faith merely made Mal want to barf all over him.

“Hey Jane!” Mal put on a poor attempt of a smile, the facade growing more twisted as Jane jumped, startled and fear palpable as she turned to see that it was Mal. However, evil was on a time crunch at the moment. “Just wanted to say, that after everything that happened,” Mal said before sticking out her hand, “that there’s no hard feelings.”

Not for the first time, Mal wanted to laugh at the sheer stupidity of Auradon’s citizens and their idiotic “forgiveness is good” policy as poor clueless plain Jane gave a shy smile before reaching out shake Mal’s hand.

“Ouch!” and pulling back her hand to see where a small prick was made was all Jane could do before her eyes dulled and her expression slackened.

Mal smirked, Jane easily under her spell. Perhaps she could actually pull this off. 

“So here’s what I need you to do for me, Janey.”

[fencheto]

Forbidden - part 2 (Dimon romantc)

The story can also be found on Wattpad You can find the first chapter here Feedback is greatly appreciated. It has been a little over three weeks since I moved in my dorm and started my studies at the Uni. Although I am still quite ‘green’ as the graduates would call it, I actually started to get used to my new life here and I do like it. It feels freaking good to be meeting tons of new people who know nothing about you and have never met you before. I’ve gotta say that Chelle and I have really hit it off and get along quite well, too. We go out at the discos every weekend and it’s been a great fun to get lose with her. She is one pretty crazy gal, can talk about the weirdest shit ever and wouldn’t even bother. We usually go out, pass by some fast food chain to grab a bite, then leave for the big alcohol smash and return to the same restaurant spot to eat afterwards again. Don’t ask me why, it just is that way every time. It is now 10 AM on a Sunday morning and at this point my hangover is killing me for real. And the sunlight piercing through the windows doesn’t help at all, so I just cover my eyes with my right arm. I can’t help but wonder why every time after a good night out, the next morning feels like a payback? A few minutes later and I get this really irritating feeling of having to pee right on this instant. I groan tiredly at the idea of getting up and although that’s the last thing I feel like doing right now, my full bladder wins, so I slowly waddle my way to the bathroom. The smell of cigarettes and alcohol is everywhere, my clothes smell, my lingerie smell; even my skin has soaked it up. I’m in a desperate need of a shower, so this is the priority task on the to-do list now. I do my job on the toilet in what feels like a slow motion and collapse back onto my bed. Despite all the drinking and partying there was still no puking or anything, so good job Demetria, I tell myself. Sleeping on doesn’t seem possible right now so instead I grab my phone and start scrolling over my social media. Most of the stuff I see is memes and photos from the party last night, so I quickly run through the galleries. I zoom over every picture that I am tagged in and fortunately for me, I look more or less decent in them. I decide to go through my own camera snaps in search for something new to upload on my profile, but the majority of the pics are either vague or too dark, so I drop it. In the mean time the phone buzzes in my hands and I notice a messenger head pop from Marissa, my best friend back home. I click onto the icon to have a look on what she says. “Wazzzzza girllll, is everything alright with u there? Give me a call when u see that.” I chuckle to myself and dial her number. I haven’t talked to her in a good six days, being busy with the project we got from the uni or going out on the free days. When I got admitted for my studies she was a bit upset that I was leaving, so we promised each other to keep in touch and share a lot with the latest news and gossips going around. After 3 beeps, she picks up. “Yoooooo, wat up, chicka?” “Took you long enough to answer, eh?” – I teased her. “Haha come off it, I was in the bathroom” – She replied, laughing. “Oh well, since when aren’t you bringing it with you in there?” “Since I dropped my brand new Galaxy S in the loo last year, remember?” – We both started laughing at the memory of it. “Oh yeah, right, I now remember this masterpiece of yours. How are you, what’s going on?” – I asked. “Well nothing much to be honest. I’ve been bored as fuck lately with uni, work, you know how it is. “ “Awwwwwee, does someone miss me and my trolling comments?” – I mocked her again. “You wiiiiiish lol. But yeah, I do. Nobody here is up for anythi-i-i-ing, so I’m living a retiree’s life now I swear.” – She complained. I chuckled at her whiny voice. “So tell me, what’s new around you? Haven’t talked to you in like a week” “Yeah sorry, I’m still overwhelmed with everything here, lessons, parties, classmates, all of that” “Anything in particular? Like, tell me are there any hotties going around those lessons, parties or classmates?” – She asked cheekily. Always the first one to ask about that. “Well, there are some going around, not gonna lie. But hey, there’s still Rob, in case you have forgotten already”. – I remind her, even though I’m technically single already. “I thought you guys broke up?” “Well, we did, but I promised him I’m not gonna hook up with anyone here, so” “Oh come on Demi, you are so far away. You don’t expect to never like anyone for the next few years there, do you? The same goes for him.” “Marissa, I’m not saying it is impossible but I have no desire for it whatsoever now.” “I think you are over-doing it here. I mean that’s why you guys broke up, so that you both see if you love each other enough to not like anyone else. What you’re doing is different, though.” “And how exactly is it different?” “Well, you should check if you will like someone else, but what you are doing is trying not to like someone else.” – She explained in her serious tone. “You’re wrong. But you know, there isn’t anyone so far anyway.” “We will see about that. Anyway, let’s cut the shit, give me some highlights or I don’t know, some spicy stuff from Berklee now please, I’m so bored” I guess it was no surprise that my mind immediately wandered over to Simon. I mean that was surely one of the highlights and unfortunately, probably the most embarrassing moment so far during my month of stay here. And the cringer part is, one: he is my lecturer and second: I still find him very attractive. Too much for what is acceptable for a student. As if any of this is acceptable at all, I thought to myself. “Demi? You there?” – I heard Marissa ask on the line. “Yeah, sorry, I just got carried away a bit there…– I replied. “But alright…since you’ve asked, I’m gonna tell you about it… there was this really cringy thing that happened to me” – I trailed off. “Yes?” “But don’t mock me too much about it, alright?” “God, Is it that bad?” “Not my greatest move by far” “Okay, now I really want to know. What’s up?” – She asked curiously. “Ehm, I was basically... you know… ehm so the other day, when I was going to school and was just crossing the street, a car nearly hit me and so it stopped right next to me, stirring the wheels and all” “Jesus, are you okay?” – She asked worriedly. “Yeah yeah, don’t worry, nothing happened. Anyway, the thing is I was running late so I got mad at the driver. Called him a fool and kicked the bumper, like not that hard but still…” I heard her laughing on the other end of the line. “Why am I not surprised?” She kept on laughing. “And, what happened afterwards?” “Well, I kept walking my way, got to the Uni and all and long story short, it turned out the driver of that same car was also my lecturer…” “HAHAHAHAHA, Oh my God, are you serious?” – She was laughing hysterically. “Yup” – I replied, not believing it myself, shaking my head. “Oh my God, I’m literally gonna pee myself here.” – She said through what sounded like tears from laughter. “So much for a friend’s support” – I replied ironically. “Oh come on Dems, it is funny.” – Her laughter was only confirming my fears of how bad it was. I couldn’t blame her though; perhaps I would have laughed just as much. “Hey, come on Dems, I’m sorry okay. But Jesus, tell me about bad luck there. Did he recognize you later on in the class?” – She asked much calmer this time. “Yeah, he did and he told me he knew it was me. I was so embarrassed, Marissa, you have no idea…” “I get it hun, and I’m not gonna lie to you, Dem, that’s pretty embarrassing. But it’s not like you wanted to offend him, I mean you didn’t know it was him so he shouldn’t take it close to heart.” – She said. “I know, but still, I felt like the dumbest ass over there, seriously.” “Ehm, did you, like, apologize?” “I tried, but he didn’t let me. Once he was done talking he left the room so I couldn’t.” “You have pissed me him off, Dem. It is understandable. He will get over it, don’t worry about it. Maybe just try to say sorry when you can.” “Do you think that will fix it?” – I asked hopeful. I now got a feeling that I probably cared more than I should, but more importantly, more than I thought I did. “Well, even if it doesn’t, that’s all you got.” “I guess you are right...” “I am. So just breathe now and don’t think about it anymore alright?” “Yes. Thanks hun, feeling better now to be honest.” “You welcome. We all make mistakes, I doubt it that he never made one.” I silently agreed with her. “Hey Dems I gotta go now, so I will talk to you later chicka.” “Alright, drop me a line when you can.” “Will do. Byeee” “Bye”. And I hang up. It always feels better after sharing your worries with a close friend. Marissa was surely the only person who knew so much about me, both good and bad stuff. Mostly bad, I mean nobody hides the good part, do they? I dropped my phone on my left side and thought about my convo with her. She did try her best to calm me down and most likely has sensed I was worried about it. Not something quite typical, but she didn’t give it a second thought, at least while talking and I was thankful for it. The thing is, I really don’t know if I care so much because I fancy him somehow or because I am still pretty ashamed of what I did. I thought about what she told me regarding Rob as well. That it is not only dependent on me if we will stay true to each other, but on him too. That was one thing that didn’t really cross my mind so far, and it did incent my doubts. Not that I didn’t trust him or anything, it is just that by now I have kept my focus on what I am doing and never actually thought that it is not just me and what I am doing here, it is about us both. And it is scary. Did he love me? Well, he told me he did. Did I love him? I think I do. I mean I’ve been in love with him for the past few years that should mean something right?? Whilst on theory everything seems to be working just fine, it surely isn’t as simple. I need time to think, and I should surely have it figured out by Christmas, when I will be going home for the holidays. I played a bit with my fingers and heard Chelle moving around in the bathroom. I was surprised she has woken up just now, it is already almost 11 AM and she usually handles hangovers much better than me. I heard her shutting the syphone and then knocking on my door quietly. “Hey Dems, got a minute?” – She called from outside. “Yep, come in” – I said, still curled up under my covers. She came in and sat on the verge of my bed, next to my feet. “Hey, still lying in bed I see.” – she smiled and poked me on my shoulder. “Noo, I’m awake, but just talked on the phone with my friend for like an hour” – I explained still sleepily. “I know. I heard you telling the story about you, Mr. Cowell and your intriguing acquaintanceship to someone.” – She laughed at the memory. Chelle was the first person I shared this with, she was in the dorm when I got home from that embarrassing class and sensed something was up. She then asked me and I told her about it. “Yeah, don’t even mention it, I’m still so embarrassed.” – I said, hiding my face in my pillow. “Oh come on Dems, we talked about it. It’s over already, you can’t do anything to change it.” – She shrugged her shoulders. “I know Chelle, but it is just so bad…” “It is not the end of the world, Dems. To be honest I thought you were over it by now, you haven’t mentioned it lately.” “Well yes, because I haven’t had classes with him ever since, but guess what – next week I will.” – I said kind of irritated. “Right, I heard he was back in the states from his work in Britain the other day too.” – She said. “He is like the buzzing topic among the girls here.” “Having in mind even you have heard something, he surely is” – I laughed and she followed too. “Come on, let’s go out and have some food. Just let me take a quick shower.” – I added, running to the bathroom already. “Okay, 20 minutes and we’re going” – She replied, jumping off my bed and going to her room. I guess it is time to get this Sunday finally started.

[taronfanfic]

Rewind

Masterlist

Chapter 10

The longer the night went on the more sloppy drunken advances from men kept playing out to one of the four of you. Initially you’d all been polite with it, smiling, laughing, gently turning them down and continuing to dance with each other instead. When they’d become more forceful and persistent you closed things down quicker and pulled in to a tighter circle.

“It’s so nice just being the four of us for once.” Charlotte commented.

“I’m impressed Y/N has been so blinkered too.” Rosie added.

“What are you trying to say?” You joked.

“There’s been an invisible wall up between you and every guy in here. They’ve not even had a look in!”

“Yeah, you’d normally at least have a bit of fun with them, steal a cheeky kiss if you knew his mates were looking.” Gemma agreed.

“The last guy I kissed was Taron…”

“So?”

“I don’t want that to change.” You admitted coyly. “Which is why I’m going to call it a night and head home, before the vultures start to swoop!” You looked back over your shoulder to a group of guys waiting on the edge of the dancefloor. “They’re all yours!”

The girls agreed to leave with you and you said your goodbyes outside the club. You took the short walk home at a quicker pace, trying to counteract the shivers that tingled down your bare legs. The pub Taron was in earlier was long closed, the roads were empty and quiet, lit only by the yellow glow of the streetlamps. You checked your phone to see it was gone 3am, no new notifications were waiting for you. The smell that drifted out of the kebab shop lifted your eyes from the pavement, temping you inside to the warmth of some food you definitely shouldn’t be ordering. The guy ahead of you received his tray of chips over the countertop and the way he held them so protectively only reminded you of Taron.

“Cheesy Chips, please.” You ordered before you changed your mind and pigged out on a full kebab. The saltiness and cheesiness satisfied your mouth but slowed your feet, so after eating a few you managed to save the rest for the comfort that only your bed could offer. Your bare feet buried into the softness of your duvet as you turned on your laptop and started to catch up on a show you’d missed earlier on in the week. There was something so simplistic about your drunken haze, your chips, your own bed and how happy it left you feeling.

You still up? X

Your phone screen lit up as a new text appeared from Taron. Maybe your happiness actually had more to do with him keeping you from a strangers bed tonight.

I am. X

You kept your reply short and sweet, waiting to see what he wanted.

Home?

He was equally as tight with his words.

Yeah…

The wait for his next reply had your heart racing. You were trying to second guess his move. Would it be disappointment that you weren’t still out? Pleased that you hadn’t gone home with someone else? What if he was about to start sexting you instead? You were in no way prepared for a sexy photoshoot when you were slumped in bed eating cheesy chips!

You kept tapping the screen of your phone to keep it lit up, watching and waiting for the … bubble to appear as he found the right words but there was nothing there. It had to be disappointment. He wanted to come and find you but you’d left too soon and now he’d be latching onto the nearest girl to satisfy him for the night. You bundled three chips into your mouth in self-comfort and started to rewind the bit of the show you’d missed through texting when you heard three gentle knocks at your door. It made you raise one eyebrow in confusion before everything clicked into place. It had to be Taron.

“So I was just on my way home but got a bit distracted... Got myself some more of these!” He brought his arm out from behind his back to show you his chips. “They made me think of you, and last weekend…” You smiled to Taron warmly as he leant up against the doorframe to stop his intoxicated swaying. He had the same drunken look in his eye that you found so endearing.

“Funny that.” You held your door back as you stepped away from Taron and silently invited him inside. He followed you through into your bedroom where you reached across to the middle of your bed and collected your own tray with just a few chips left in the bottom. “Our nights seem to have ended in the same way.”

“It was meant to be!” He declared dramatically and made you laugh. You sat on the far side at the top of your bed and closed your laptop. Taron passed his chips over to you to hold whilst he took his jacket off and got comfy and then pouted at you when he turned back to find you eating them.

“Mine got cold.” You replied innocently as you handed them over. “So how was your night?”

“It was good until someone started eating my chips. Yours?”

“Really fun, just me and the girls tonight which made for a nice change… having a bit of a celebration.” You drunken mind couldn’t stop the last words from leaving your mouth.

“Someone’s birthday?”

“No, no…” You started to scramble. “Just, erm, getting back into my flat! Any excuse!” You laughed nervously.

“Well I’m also pleased you did. Although Monday night was oddly quiet… felt a bit weird without you actually.” It was finally Taron’s turn to say too much.

“Yeah?” You prompted him.

“It was just nice to have a night like that with someone. Talk rubbish, have a giggle, no pressure sort of thing.”

“It was. You were right when you said it’s everything a one-night stand isn’t.”

“Right!” Taron nodded as he continued to eat. “It made me have a proper think, y’know… I want more stuff like that – not that I don’t want sex. But both. Both would be good.”

“A relationship?”

“Yeah, maybe… can I get some water?” He asked as he put his chips down.

“Course. Stay there, I’ll go.” You felt Taron’s eyes on you as you walked around the end of your bed and tugged your dress down as it rode up your thighs. You grabbed a glass for yourself too and when you got back he was stretched out, lying down and looking at his phone. You tried to mentally screenshot the moment and not die of excitement that your bedding would end up smelling of him. He smiled up at you as you handed him a glass.

“Thanks. I’m not sure tinder is the best place to go looking for a relationship, what do you think?”

“Not the most organic.”

“I found you on there though!” He grinned mischievously as he turned his phone screen round to show you your own profile.  “Had any luck?”

“I’ve not really used it much, been a bit distracted recently.” You lay down next to him but kept your eyes firmly fixed on the ceiling, knowing full well that your drunk face would tell him everything he could possibly want to know already. A risky question lingered on the tip of your tongue. Sober you would have swallowed it down but there was no stopping it tonight. “So are you going to swipe me right or left?”

“You’ll have to find me back to find out, won’t you…” He teased before taking a drink.

“Or… you could just tell me.”

“I could…” He leant over you and placed his glass down on your bedside table, his chest just millimetres away from yours. As he moved back he looked down over you and you couldn’t help but lock onto his eye contact. “Or I could just-” He cut himself off and moved in to kiss you. His lips were soft and gentle, lingering against yours with a slight hesitation until you started to kiss him back. You lifted your arm and caressed over the side of his neck and up into the back of his hair. The kiss transitioned into something deeper, Taron’s tongue the first to brave a move against yours. He was everything you’d remembered from the weekend before. Slow and skilled even after he’d had more than a few drinks. He pulled back and lingered over you for an extra second before kissing you quickly and softly.

“That was nice.” You failed to hide your smile as Taron sat up away from you.

“It was.” He reciprocated. “Everyone sleeps better after a goodnight kiss.”

“Is that what that was?”

“Yeah, like last weekend… I should get going.” He stood up from your bed.

“You don’t have to.” You replied too quickly for your own liking, but Taron just laughed softly.

“Sleep well, Y/N.” He picked his jacket up from your bedroom floor and looked back to you quickly, the polite smile you’d given him too many times finally appearing on his lips instead. With that he was gone and you heard your door gently closing behind him.

Your hands ran through the top of your hair as you wondered what the hell just happened. You cringed as you thought back to asking him what that kiss was all about and how eagerly you offered him your bed for the night. So much for playing it cool. You had him right there, literally on top of you, kissing you, and then less than a minute later he’s out the door. If it was his way of teasing you and playing games then it was fucking working. Especially the teasing. That second taste had left you thirsty for more but all you had were warm bedsheets laced with his scent.

Tag List: @egerton-sweetie @amanda-tallmadge @lizziespidiepridie​ @leanimal90@anantheminmyheart22@aynsleywalker@bohemianrhapsody86@butterfliesslugswormsandothershi @manners-maketh-taron@livingincompletesilence@marvelmakeuplover@ohsosmutty@misspygmypie @manners-maketh-a-kingsman@courtmr @baileythepenguin@thomaslefteyebrow

[aflaxtonjaegerbomb]

Too Much Food, Not Enough Love Chapter 9

Pairing: GTop, ToDae

Warnings: Details of drowning.

Word Count: 1156

For: @vipnetwork

Also Posted On: AO3 (PeaceMinusMOTTE)

A/N:  I'm actually happy with myself that I've managed to be a little more consistent these days. I know these chapters aren't particularly long, but that's due to me not having too much time these days. But I do have other chaptered WIPs that will be about double what these are...

The silence in the room was suffocating. Jiyong refused to look away from the bedsheets. Youngbae was sat next to him, eyes flickering between Jiyong and Seunghyun. Seunghyun sighed deeply. He honestly didn’t know how to begin his explanation. Nobody spoke for at least a minute or two. A trickle of rain could be heard outside the windows and Seunghyun lent back a bit onto the pillows. Suddenly the atmosphere became less suffocating. Calming, even. Jiyong shuffled about a little, coming to lie next to Seunghyun’s right side. He rested his hand on the older man’s arm, lying on his side so as to face him.

“I told Daesung. He left, he was upset. Obviously. And I took my meds, put on a movie and got into bed. That was this morning,” Seunghyun spoke gently - as if he were afraid of shattering the peace that had settled itself upon the three men. Wracking his brain for the rest of the story, he sighed again. “It was dark when I woke up. It was dark and I…” He found himself choking up very slightly as he tried to continue. “I… After I woke up, I went to the bathroom. I wasn’t thinking right. I got into the bath and just let it run.”

Jiyong tightened his grip on Seunghyun’s arm and pressed his forehead against his shoulder. He mumbled a small “why” into the fabric of Seunghyun’s shirt. Youngbae was sitting silently by the feet of the pair, looking at Seunghyun with worry. At least it wasn’t pity, Seunghyun mused.

“I’m not sure - I mean, I’m not sure whether it’s about wanting to die or not wanting to live. I think I just didn’t want to… be.”

“What’s it like? To drown?” Youngbae first words to Seunghyun tonight were not particularly welcome. They came darkly from the man’s mouth, and the morbid mix of curiosity and fear on his face deterred Seunghyun from ignoring him despite the tightening of his chest.

“It was difficult. When the water entered my lungs it felt like fire. Like someone was pouring molten lava down my throat. I wanted to flail and get to oxygen, but I stayed put. And then there was colour. Everything was inundated with yellow, even under the water. Then it went black. Not like a black fade over a few seconds, but it literally just… turned black. I stopped feeling anything after that. I’m not sure if I existed at all in those moments. There was a blinding, pure, white light and I heard something. And then Jiyong pulled me out.”

Yet again, a heavy silence fell over the room like a weighted blanket. Outside, the rain had picked up and it became the only noise the trio heard for a good while. Youngbae had moved closer to Seunghyun without him even noticing.

“We should call Daesung here…”

“Absolutely not,” Seunghyun’s voice was cold and firm. “It would be like guilt tripping him. I won’t do that to him. Never.”

“Okay, sorry,” Youngbae sat back against the pillows. “I think I should call him at least. Let him know I’m here if he needs anything?”

Jiyong sat up suddenly and hummed in agreement.

“Yes. Do that,” he said, manoeuvring around the two other men on the bed.

“Where are you going?” Seunghyun called after him. Jiyong gave no reply, simply moving into the living room, out of sight. Within a few seconds, he reappeared in the hallway. Pizza box and wine in hand. Youngbae chuckled as he retrieved his phone to shoot a quick message to Daesung.

“Jesus guys… You know it’s 4am, right?”

“On a… Sunday?” Jiyong squinted at Youngbae while he climbed clumsily back onto the bed.

“Yeah, on a Sunday.”

Jiyong stopped in his tracks and looked at him blankly for a second. Youngbae looked back at him, just as blankly.

“Coolio.”

“Jiyong, what about this situation calls for pizza and my pink wine, which, by the way, I don’t recall allowing you to open?” Seunghyun butted in before Youngbae could comment on Jiyong’s odd behaviour.

“It was getting cold!” Jiyong tried to talk through the mouthful of pizza he’d already shoved in. He offered the bottle of wine to Seunghyun who reluctantly brought it to his lips. Jiyong beamed at both Youngbae and Seunghyun like he’d just solved the issue of world hunger with his pizza box and fancy wine.

“Just because I’m taking a slice doesn’t I’m okay with any of this,” Seunghyun grumbled reaching for the pizza. Jiyong shrugged, apparently content with this arrangement. The trio found themselves relaxing with the help of food and wine. It was a stark contrast to how the night had started for them, but none of them acknowledged the drastic change.

Youngbae’s phone buzzed, startling him. Checking the name flashing on his screen, he excused himself, stepping into the bathroom.

“Youngbae?” Daesung’s weak voice came as a shock to Youngbae.

“Hey, you okay Dae? You don’t sound too great-”

“Of course I sound like shit! I’ve been crying and drinking all damn day! I’m sure if your partner up and cheated on you then you’d have some vocal setbacks too!” Daesung was furious and drunk, from the sound of things. In fact, drunkenness seemed to be a theme as of late.

“Listen, dude, I’m not sure whether just a kiss is considered cheating. In practical terms,” Youngbae had no idea where he was going with this. He couldn’t tell if he was trying to mend or worsen Daesung’s relationship with any of them.

“It’s not just a kiss, Bae. They were romantically intimate,” Daesung spoke slowly, as if he were talking to a child rather than his friend and bandmate of 10 years.

“Well… okay yeah. I get that. But they’re not bad people, are they?”

“I never said anything about what kind of people they are! I’m sad and angry! And it’s like, 5am or something. And my boyfriend kissed someone other than me. Who even told you anyway?”

“Jiyong did. Daesung, he was real upset.”

“Good for him. At least he recognises what he’s done-” Daesung let out a long loud yawn, “and hopefully he’ll back the fuck off.”

Youngbae winced internally. He knew Jiyong was more than likely going to try to explore his newfound feelings.

“-anyway. So I’ll just sleep on it. Have a nice Sunday, Youngbae.” Youngbae only caught the end of Daesung’s last sentence, too wrapped up in his thoughts. Daesung had hung up on him, so he returned to the other two.

Jiyong and Seunghyun sat opposite each other, talking quietly and passing the wine bottle between one another.

“Oh, Bae, we need your input!” Jiyong basically threw himself over the bed to latch onto Youngbae’s arm and haul him onto it. “Okay so…” Jiyong giggled drunkenly, like a school girl about to gossip about all her friend’s secrets, “who’s telling Seungri that we’ve compromised the integrity of the group?”

[strawberry-jules]

the fourth

hi again. it’s 10:41pm.

today was a fucking shit show. like appallingly so. my schedule was supposed to roughly look like this:

6-7am: get up, get ready, go get coffee

8-9: vet appt

9-10: breakfast, clean the kitchen for mom

10-11: post office, quick target run

11.30-4pm: read 2 chapters from textbook

4-5.30: run, shower, etc

5.30-7.30: read half a chapter, take some me time, idk

9pm-11pm: vibe time baybee

here’s how it turned out, roughly.

got coffee, it was very fun. barista is making it very hard to not have a crush on them by simply existing. how rude! took belle to the vet, everything was fine and dandy, as i figured. came home, had a bagel with spinach and eggs, cleaned the kitchen, it was fantastic. my brother ended up needing to ship out his christmas gift to his friend in croatia, but his classes weren’t over until 1:30, so i was like no worries! i’ll just go study for my final till your classes are over, just let me know. i ended up reading absolutely nothing and getting sucked into whatever fucking dumb shit exists on the internet. i also picked 3 therapists from our network and emailed them, introducing myself, and asking for quick interviews next week to see if we’re good fits, because i want to start going to therapy. 

i was very excited by this development. it’s taken me over a year of saying i would go to therapy for me to finally get the courage to reach out. at about 12, i went into my parents’ room and said “guess what? i’m finally starting therapy!” and my mother, without missing a beat, says “oh, sorry we did such a bad job raising you. why do you need therapy? i thought we did a great job.” i was fucking stunned. i was like, “woah, no! this isn’t a reflection of you. this is me finally taking care of myself, i have personal things i need to work through. however, i do think that therapy is useful to anyone, and i think everyone should try therapy, at least once,” to which she had the brilliant insight, “there’s nothing wrong with me. should i just make something up about my family and go talk to a stranger about it? is that what you’re doing?” and my dad was like, “hey, that’s not what she’s saying” and my mom basically went off saying that i was weird for thinking that everyone should try therapy, and that i didn’t actually need it, and that it’s weird that i’ve been to therapy twice now, wasn’t complaining to that high school counselor that my parents were so strict enough for me?

those quotes are as close to word for word as i can get, i’m pretty sure it’s exactly what was said. the conversation lasted less than a minute, before i said “i think i need to excuse myself,” and walked away. i came and sat at my desk for i don’t even know how long. i looked at myself in my phone camera, and my face had become so translucent, it was almost green from my blood veins. i walked up to my window and contemplated trying to take the screen out to climb out, but i realized that if i did jump, it would be in my neighbor’s driveway, and that felt really insensitive, so i walked away. i sat back down at my desk and contemplated all the reasons my mom was right, before i realized that she wasn’t right. i have finally realized that i’m not fine. 

i’m a depressed, suicidal 20 year old with undiagnosed adhd and ocd, a diagnosed eating disorder, and i’ve been a closeted lesbian for 13 years. i have every right to feel not okay. i didn’t need my mother’s permission to go to therapy, i have my own health insurance and i’m an adult who feels the need to ask for help, and that’s okay.

so i did what i do best, and spewed verbal diarrhea onto my private snap story about what happened and how i’ve been feeling these last few days. my brother’s classes ended early, so i took the opportunity to leave the house as soon as possible, and we took as long as possible to get to the fedex drop box, before i dropped him back at home and kept driving around, trying to process how i felt. i didn’t return either of my textbooks. i think i’m just going to send the one i bought in october after christmas, idk when it’s due but i can’t deal with the fucking lines at the post office anymore. i walked up to the post office, looked at the winding line into a building where the lovely hicks in my hometown refuse to wear masks, decided i wasn’t ready to get covid yet, and went to deposit cash so i could buy weed. i’ll just bite the $40 and buy the one that was due today, maybe i’ll give it to someone next semester. 

i got home and responded to my friends’ responses to my story. i got an overwhelmingly positive and loving response from my friends. every single one stuck up for me, supported me, and shared that they’ve been feeling similarly. which is heartbreaking, i can’t believe that all of us have been dealing with this so privately! but anyway, that’s a tomorrow issue. 

after i did that, i was ordering my weed when barista texted me, saying they had a question for me, which, when you have a major crush on a coworker with a girlfriend, is a very concerning text to receive. turns out, they just made me earrings! they walked their dog to my house and delivered the insanely cool polymer clay snake earrings. when i greeted them with a hug, they pulled me in so close, literally every part of their body was pressed against mine and my cheek rested on their head so perfectly. they’re on the shorter side, probably 3-4 inches shorter than me, but so strong. the way their arms felt around my back was wild, it was so tight but so gentle but so firm but so, so warm and soft. their hair was soft but frizzy and smelled like them and a little bit like an argan oil shampoo and a little like coffee. their eyes are so much more intensely ice blue in the sun. they hugged me the same way goodbye, and we chatted for a good portion of the evening, about our coworkers and being homeschooled and being nerdy high schoolers and the earrings.

i finally got one chapter done before dinner was ready at 8:30pm, which is late, even by our standards. after dinner, as i was decorating a sugar cookie named gerard, my parents kept making snarky comments about me being a stoner, and i was like yes, bold statements coming from the parents that just used my account to buy a tincture and edibles. anyway, i came upstairs and tried to read more but i’m too emotionally exhausted. eve ended up giving me a call, finally, and filled me in on her life, which is always crazy but i love to hear her voice, so it’s okay. then i learned a tiktok dance, which left me concerningly out of breath, considering it’s only been like 4 days since i ran and i can’t be that out of shape? but i showered and did my skincare routine and made sure my laundry was in the dryer before i sat down to start this. 

it’s now 11:20pm, and i’m very proud to report that i am no longer angry with my mother for what she said to me. i’m sad that it’s how she feels, but i recognize that what i’m going through is something she will never understand, as a straight woman who, while prudish, has a healthy relationship with drugs and sex. i love her, and i forgive her, but i’m going to talk to her tomorrow and hold her accountable for gaslighting her already unstable daughter. what she did wasn’t fair, and it hurt. i know she probably feels insecure because she definitely does have things she knows she should go to therapy for, i know for a fact that she faced a lot of childhood and adolescent trauma and i would personally love to make sure she’s in a healthy place with it. but i can’t force her to, obviously, so i have to just hope that she doesn’t project on to me too much in the coming weeks.

i’m exhausted, and i think i’ll go to bed. i feel good about how i handled today, i caught myself in time to think through my actions before i did something completely unwarranted and unhinged. i know that at the time, my brain was in flight mode and i couldn’t cope immediately so i just followed the “i want to die” instinct because it was the strongest, but i still had enough of my logical brain in gear to have forethought. look at you go, prefrontal cortex! knowing that the part of me that is still healthy and wants to live is strong enough to put the kibosh on that maneuver is enough to give me hope that i will be okay someday. i never thought that i would be someone to be experiencing things like this. i really thought that people were being dramatic, if i’m being totally honest. now that i’m experiencing it, i understand. i’m sorry that i didn’t have more empathy.