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thesunicarusfellfor · 3 years

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Mortal of Gold - Part 3

(Yandere!C!Techno x GN!Shy!Reader x Yandere!C!Philza)

Anyone want my list of the characters as gods? There were a few characters that I couldn't think of like Ponk, so I just left them out. ANYWAY. Hi, how's it going? ALSO I CANT EDIT THIS DAMN POST AND THE SPELLING ERRORS ARE SO IRRITATING

Part 1 Part 2 TW: Mention of amnesia, memories being altered Send me a message via inbox if you wanna be added to a general or series tag list. Make sure to turn off anon, please. ------- “They weren’t born… A mortal?”

A light wind brushed over your features, causing you to give a small sigh and roll over onto your side in an attempt to block the light from hitting your lidded eyes. It was nice and quiet for once… “(Y/n)?” A distorted voice echoed softly, causing you to flinch a bit. You opened your eyes slightly to see a silky blackbird sitting on the sheets beside you, a few golden trinkets laying beside it. Upon seeing your eyes slide open, the creature hopped up onto its legs and began making soft cooing noises, “(Y/n)! (Y/n), you’re awake!” Glancing around at the surroundings you had been placed in, racking your mind for any sort of familiarity but failing to come up with anything at all, even who you were. You sat up, slowly brushing your fingers along your ombre silk clothing before putting your hands on the sheets below your body, frowning as you didn’t recognize the bed as yours. “Hello…” You murmured softly, reaching your hand out to the crow who eagerly jumped forward to nuzzle your hand. The feathers of the bird felt… Odd. They felt more like grabbing at misty fog, but with a light staticky cotton texture that caused a buzzing sensation on your fingertips, “I’m sorry, my memory… Seems to be a tad faulty… Could you tell me your name?” “I’m Chat, Dadza- er… Philza’s familiar! I was a gift from Mumza, oops... Kristen, the Goddess of Void and Death.” It chirped, its voice having multiple layers in your head, causing you to shake your head a slight bit, “No, they’re not married, only parental figures to the souls that pass on to the afterlife or those they saved sometime before they passed on… I believe they have more of a co-worker relationship.” You nodded slightly, pursing your lips at how the creature’s voice sounded in your mind. It was unsettling and caused shivers to crawl up and down your back, but at the same time, it was incredibly calming and had a soothing aura. How that worked, you had no clue whatsoever. Brushing off the unsettling voice of the bird, you decided to focus on the name that caused a light to go off in your head, “Alright… Philza… I think I remember that name…” “Yeah! Dadza- Eck… Sorry. Phil, he’s the God of Survival and Crows! He controls not only every crow in the mortal land, but he also controls whether or not someone will survive a situation. If there is no way that the mortal can survive, he will send a crow down and have them guide the soul of the mortal to him! Then he escorts them to Kristen! He has gained the name Angel of Death because he works for Mumza!” You decided not to question why the crow called Philza and Kristen Mumza and Dadza, knowing that you’d probably find out later, but by the sound of it Chat seemed to be multiple children, “Okay… Makes sense…” You mumbled slowly, nodding your head up and down. With a sigh you slowly brought your legs over to the side of the bed, only now becoming aware of how large the soft mattress was. Lowlands! (Hell) You could probably fit six people who were ten feet tall in it with room to roam! Pushing yourself off the bed, you also realized how high the beautiful bed was off the floor, Gods, whoever lived here was tall! Behind you, you heard a small chirp, and you saw Chat watching you curiously. With a small shrug, you decided to pick the familiar up and hold it in your cupped hands as you walked out the door, “Oooh! Dadza never carries us like this, and Technoblade does only when he’s about to yeet us out a window!” “Yeet?” You scowled in confusion as you walked through the arched doorway, your bare feet padding silently on the quartz flooring, “I'm scared to ask. Technoblade? Is he also a god of some things? He sounds familiar as well…” “That’s its word for throwing something. Well, it yells the word when they throw something or get thrown, so I assume it’s yelling in excitement,” A deep voice spoke from in front of you, causing you to gasp and lift your head from the crow. The telepathic chirping and squeaks from Chat in your mind quickly formed the name Technoblade, so… You had a feeling that your answer was on its way past his

lips, “I’m Technoblade, or Techno, the God of Blood and War. It’s… nice to see you finally awake…” He shifted awkwardly on his feet as you curiously studied him. His appearance could certainly be described as godly if anyone asked you. His long pink hair was mostly twisted and tied into a braid with bits of golden chain and a polished golden crown adorned with rubies, garnets and diamonds. Upon his pale skin, dozens of scars of varying sizes decorated his skin in different areas, but they were displayed in an almost proud manner. Almost. When he spoke, his dark pink eyes hidden behind cracked glasses searched your form for any sort of injury, “I’m… (Y/n)... I think. I don’t know if this bird is exactly trustworthy in its information… Do you know where I am?” Techno snorted as Chat gave an offended squawk at your statement, “That’s very fair, to be honest. You’re in the Tundra of the Upperlands, and this is my palace. No there is no snow, I believe the person who named this place has never looked into the name or word Tundra, but it’s been like this for too long to change it-” He paused for a moment as he noticed you looking extremely confused, “Ah. Right. Desert. Don’t worry about it.” “Oh… Okay…” You frowned at the tusked male for a moment before shaking your head, deciding not to question it much, “Now, uh… How did I get here, and why don’t I remember anything about myself? Or, about you and this Philza guy, I was told about.” You lifted Chat slightly toward Techno as a silent indication that Chat was the one who told you about Phil. “That’s uh… Phil’s field of expertise.” He rubbed the back of his head with his black-tipped fingers before adjusting his crown, “I don’t understand much of what happened, and Phil will tell you what you need to know that will keep you safe.” Hesitantly, he held his free hand out towards you making you realize that he was easily over seven and a half feet tall, “C’mon, I’ll take you to him and get you the answers you need.” His hand was extremely steady, you noticed as you stared down at it cautiously. Once you noticed that he didn’t seem to want to do you harm, you slowly shifted Chat into one hand and used your free hand to take the one extended to you, which you couldn’t help but notice, made Technoblade very happy, “Okay. Thank you.” The god held your hand in his calloused one for a few moments before beginning to lead you down the tan and white hallways that were turned a light golden hue from the rising sun. It was quite a long walk filled with a slightly uncomfortable silence, but you distracted yourself by looking around the palace curiously. It was obvious he was the God of War by how many swords hanging on walls and sets of armour he had placed on armour stands in the hallways. Eventually, he walked you through an archway that led into a wide-open room with multiple windows that had many crows perched on the windowsills, some chirping and singing some little tune in perfect unison while others shuffled around, seeming to do a little dance. You were quick to realize the whistling of one of the birds didn’t match up and noticed that it was coming from the man with the large white and green striped hat as well as massive black feathered wings dangling on his back, fluffing themselves up every so often. When you and Techno stepped in, the blackbirds started chirping loudly, losing the rhythm of the tune the winged man was whistling as Chat started telepathically squealing about… 2/4? Two out of four what? “Ah!” The hat-wearing male turned around and clasped his hands together upon seeing you standing up, “(Y/n), you’re awake. I was worried the injuries you sustained were enough to keep you out cold for a few more weeks. I’m glad to see I was wrong. I’m Philza, God of Survival and Crows, and I see you’ve met Chat and Techno. Pesky bird, I told it not to wake you...” You pursed your lips for a moment, analyzing the shorter god as the bird squealed out its protests. While he was shorter than Techno, he was certainly tall, standing roughly around six feet tall, his wingspan

probably double that for each wing! His blonde hair was long around his face but was pulled into a loose braid like Techno’s was, although instead of gold intertwined into his hair, it was silver. His outfit was made up of a loose green shirt and black pants, with a red heart-shaped pendant dangling off of a chain into the center of his chest. Why did that pendant… Look familiar? You slowly rose your hand up and clasped at the pendant around your neck, noticing how Philza smiled softly, “Technoblade… Said you could tell me why I can’t remember anything?” “You’re still wearing my gift, I see,” Philza gave a soft hum as Chat jumped from your hand and onto his shoulder, before gesturing for you and Techno to take a seat where he already had drinks and some form of cakes set out, but they certainly weren’t there when you came in. Upon seeing your confused blinking, he gave a soft laugh, “I’m a god, mate, magic is no difficult task for me, let alone creating some measly tea and desserts. Now, sit down and I will tell you everything…” - General - None Mortal of Gold -@generalalmond @binas-idea-vault @ohworm-writes

#philza x reader #technoblade x reader #techno x reader #yandere philza x reader #yandere technoblade x reader #mcyt #mcyt x reader #yandere mcyt #dream smp #dream smp x reader #technoblade dream smp #philza dream smp #technoblade dreamsmp #philza dreamsmp #phil dream smp #phil dreamsmp #mcyt au #dsmp #mcyt god au

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camslightstories · 3 years

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Tolerate It - Part 12

Lena Luthor x reader, Kara Danvers x reader, Alex Danvers x reader. Baby Danvers. Female Reader.

Notes: Hey guys! How are you all doing? Well its been a long time since I updated tolerate it and its because I haven't had much inspiration, I been in a literal block, a part from that everything i been writing lately I hate it but I didn't want to let you guys hanging. So thanks to @captain-josslett for checking and helping me in this part.

I love to hear your theories, opinions, suggestions and more so if you have any comments leave on my inbox or message me. I wanna hear what you guys think is going to happen or what you want to happen. But right now I'm not receiving any requests since my inbox is full of them and I don't wanna leave you guys hanging. I hope you guys enjoy, and have a great day!

Taglist: @multi-images @captain-josslett @aznblossom @venteen @coxmicbabygirl @lezzzbehonesthere

Russian Translations:

Принцесса - Princess

The throbbing pain surges through your body as the cotton full of alcohol touches your wound softly, sending chills through your body. You laid on the white hospital bed in silence as your ex-girlfriend check the ripped wound on your torso.

With the myriad of thoughts and feelings running through your head only to fail, making you groan. Lena glances at you carefully and curiously as you kept quiet, her focus not leaving the ripped wound she was trying to mend. Noticing the different types of scars on your body some of them longer and worse looking.

“Can you tell me how does it feel?” She asks, gulping down when you made no move to speak. With her voice full of worry, she nods and takes her gloves off, only to stop when you spoke loud enough for her to hear.

“It’s fine” You state, keeping your eyes on the ceiling. In a monotone voice, as your heart almost bounced off your chest when she asked.

Clenching your fists, you move to sit only to groan in full pain as the wound touches the shirt cotton. The green-eyed woman immediately runs to your side, with fear. You took a deep breath before helping yourself up ignoring her questioning expression.

The Luthor woman out of desperation yells as tears fill her eyes. Throwing her hands into the air. “Can you at least look me in the eye?! Talk to me!”

“What do you want me to say, Ms. Luthor?” You answered rubbing your temples at the sound of her voice, a neutral tone and expression on your face as you looked at her. Her green eyes full of retained tears and her lip trembles as she looks at you.

She cried, cleaning furiously her tears as you looked at her. The last word came out quieter than the rest, showing a hurting part of herself. “I don't know! Just… please.”

“Ms. Luthor, I don't know what to say to you, nor I know what you wanna hear and I'm sure you don't either.” You answer in a soft yet determined tone as you tried to walk away only for Lena to get in the way crossing her arms as she tried to keep control of her emotions.

“You are just going to walk away?” She remarked loudly, exasperated for an answer. You stopped as you heard the words coming out of her mouth, the obvious distress in them.

“It seems to be the only thing you can do,” She added looking at you in the eye. You shifted uncomfortably before moving past her as fast as you could, ignoring her scoff.

She scoffed as you walked away from her, clenching your fits trying to find control as you felt the urge to yell at the black-haired woman. Now the free-flowing feelings in you have become stronger and harder to restrain.

You press your lips together and clench your jaw when the black-haired woman shouts loudly and desperately at you. “What about the ring?! What did I feel? What about everything?! Because you are here pretending nothing happen”

The smell of the alcohol invaded your nose, as the itching pain on your lower stomach kept throbbing, feelings run around your heart and head openly without any control. The white lights annoy your eyes as you try to focus on something else only to fail. The sneaky feeling tugging at your heart when you heard the break in her voice.

The feeling of conflict as the two sides of yourselves began to fight on how to act, how to feel, how to be normal. One part of you asked you, begged specifically to go and wrap the green-eyed woman in a comforting embrace, protecting her from getting hurt. And the other remained you from all the pain, the anger, the sadness you had resorted to when you left and reminded you how easy life was when there was everything clear with a common goal.

Lena shouted again this time, in an angrier and determinate tone. Stepping closer to you, in her CEO stance but the only difference was the fact that it looked forceful like she was trying so hard to hold it together, you heard her in her voice, in the way her feet hesitated to step closer. And as much as you hated it, it broke you inside. “Y/N! Just tell me something!”

You didn't know, how, when nor why, you turned around facing her with your heart clenching at the sight of her tears springing free. Her eyes looked tired and sorrowful, her cheeks were covered in tears and the ruined makeup, her hands were in a fist that you could tell where a base for self-control. You hated the pain she was revving, you hated the sadness in her eyes, and the tears that sprung freely but never even if you tried you could hate her.

“Just fuck off, dammit!” Your mind seemed to be in automatic mode when the words came out of your mouth. The green-eyed took a step back in shock when you snapped, the now wide-eyed woman made you regret every decision in your life as her eyes restrained hardly the tears she desired to disappear.

Against every fiber in your body, you shocked your head before starting again, glancing at your ex-girlfriend. Cutting the tension you took a deep breath before speaking, gaming Lena’s attention. “Look-”

You weren't even in the middle of what you were going to say when two well-known, familiar voices interrupted you. You tensed as you heard the voice of your sisters, the urge to just walk out and the urge to shout everything out were confronting each other as your mind running with all the different scenarios. “Y/N!”

You kept quiet as your sisters got closer, without hesitation you started to walk away to the run you had been staying only for a familiar blur to stand in front of the door with her arms crossed and a knowing smile on her face. Hope, happiness, and regret radiated out of her, while Alex stood behind you with a determined look on her face as you turned around to walk the other way.

A part of you wanted to yell at them until there wasn't anything left and the other wanted to walk away leaving everything behind to keep leaving the simple life you had been living for the past 3 years. Lena kept quiet as her mind kept doing rounds of possible explanations, while both of your sisters decided to stand in front of you with nothing but questions. But you remained silent as they did.

Questions such as “Why do you have so many scars?” “What is the tattoo on your chest?” “What do you mean of the Bratva?” “Why were you with Roulette the other night?” were thrown at you by your older sisters as you tried to ignore each one, only for them to keep pressing.

Lena had stayed in the same place, as they interrogated you. The black-haired woman somehow noticed the way your patience was getting closer to the end when you clenched your fit with so much force that the veins on your arms started to show slowly.

“Don't you think we deserve an explanation?” Kara asked, taking a step closer, which made you clench your jaw, the feelings running around your body screamed at you as the pain and anger started to build by second.

The feeling of anger and betrayal under all of those layers you tried to put up, under what you thought it would make you okay, it would make the pain go away, the memories, the feelings, everything...

Your oldest sister yelled, getting frustrated by the minute. “Feel free to fill up the blanks, but it seems that you are not going to do that are you?” The redhead asks sarcastically, covering somehow the relief of how you were but adding the worry of what had happened in the last few years.

When you didn't respond, ignoring the redhead. Your sister hits the table with her fists showing her frustration. Kara looked back where Alex stood with both of her hands on the table as she looked at you angrily. You stared at her, challenging the redhead, making Lena furrow her eyes when she noticed Alex walking back where Kara stood in front of you letting out a scoff.

“Don't you think we as your family don't deserve to know?” Kara asked with sorrow in her eyes and voice. Tears swelling up in her eyes as she searched in your eyes for any sign of her baby sister finding none but a challenging glare to the redhead and her now.

You felt everything come out, and you were seeing red. As you were about to snap, a strong familiar voice shouted in determination stopping you.

“THAT’S ENOUGH!” Your clenched jaw and fists kept the pressure making your vivid expression and reaction be acknowledged by all of them.

Oliver had been standing with Anatoly catching sight of the interaction between you and your sisters. The blonde man remembers vividly how going back the emptiness, the feeling of just wanting the pain to get away, the angriness at the world, every single detail. Seeing the mark on your chest, oblivious to outsiders but obvious to him, a torturous feeling in your chest as you tried to keep yourself in the corner, in the darkness, where you knew not to expect anything.

He saw the expression in your face, the way your eyebrows knitted together, the way your hands were converted into fists drawing blood at the pressure, the way you clenched your jaw, trying to keep control, the way your eyes were painted deep down with suffering but were void and incomprehensible on the outside, the way you tried to distance yourself into the darkness feeling the only calmness there, the way every time your fists hit something were not in act of defense or attack but in letting your hidden feelings out.

The way you tried to keep control, of yourself, of your feelings, of the world around you, of the memories, of everything but you, felt powerless in the darkness. Feeling the need to yell and run away from everything, to isolate yourself from the world, believing and trusting in yourself and only trying to keep everything inside.

“Принцесса, I see you finally decided to escort somebody” Your focus immediately went to the Russian man when he spoke, walking closer to you with a black garment suit bag in his right hand. Holding it up, as you make your way to grab it. His teasing voice made you roll your eyes while snatching the bag out of his hands.

Smiling at Lena and your sisters, the man walked closer to them as he spoke. Making you sighed in annoyance, while Oliver suppressed a smile. Lena looked at the man in the suit and took his hand with a firm handshake, Kara and Alex following to do the same as he presented himself. “Anatoly Knyazev, at your service. Принцесса friend”

“Work partner, if you don't have vodka or I don't have the green light with your new friend and I'm not courting anyone” You corrected giving him an annoying look, he shook his head when you hissed irritated.

The Russian man grinned at you before shaking his head as he spoke. “Roulette is not our business associate anymore, too ambitious and mercenary for her own good”

“Nice, then friend. I'm gonna go change, and I can solve a certain complication” You grinned sheepishly, which made Oliver sighed while your sisters and your ex-girlfriend looked at you curiously.

The Queen man waited for you to be out of hearing sight to speak “This isn't helping”

Anatoly kept quiet as he sat on the sofa, while Oliver spoke. Lena and your sisters stood in front of him, each one of them with expressions of annoyance and worry.

The blonde man took a step back, crossing his arms as he tried to reason with them before either of the three could respond. "I get it you guys want answers, but right now she needs to let herself be vulnerable again, she needs to feel safe, to feel she isn't in the darkness anymore and neither you nor I know what she went through and it's not going to help if you guys keep pressuring her”

The explanation had left the three feeling uneasy

“You do not get to tell me how to treat my sisters, Queen.” Alex spits at the vigilante. Lena and Kara try to calm the redhead down but your voice stops them.

“Let’s go” You enter the room and sensing the tension between the two, but you ignore it and walk to where the Russian man sits. Catching the attention of the group of four turning around to see you grabbing the gun from the shelf putting it behind the jacket you carried.

Alex didn't think twice before running up to you grabbing you by the upper arm, holding you back when you tried to get out of her grasp. Oliver sighed as you spoke, your eyes connected yours and hers in a glance, the staredown between the two created a visible tension. “Alexandra, let me go”

Tilting your head when Kara stepped in to put her hand on your oldest sister's shoulder, looking between the two before walking away with the Russian man by your side.

----

Entering the car shop you notice the obvious and threatening silence. Letting out a sarcastic sigh when you heard the sudden movement behind the next wall, the sound of the gun clicking, and the pushing from the same source. You looked at the Russian man before shaking your head to the side, taking out your gun.

Walking down the stairs you felt the end of the arm on the back of your head, and a hand topping your mouth. You kept in place for a second, raising your arms, before flipping the person down the stairs, keeping the gun in your hand before discharging it and throwing it away.

You walked down the stairs before shooting at the man on his thigh when the other two came out. You rolled your eyes when the two guys pulled their guns at you but were thrown to the side when an arrow hit them. Noticing the green arrow you sighed in annoyance before continuing.

“Leave it alone” Anatoly who sat on the chair waiting for you to be done, looked over to the group of four noticing your sisters and ex-girlfriend's expression of shock, while Oliver made his way to you. Noticing the man behind you, you spoke threateningly at him, before turning around.

----

The tall brunette guy who was now with a black eye and a busted lip, as you kept your hold on his throat. You murmured when the guy kept silent. “Okay then it's the hard way”

Pushing him down before shooting him, you looked over to the black-haired man staring at you with wide eyes. You walked where he was before lowering to the floor having the same eye contact, you looked at him and recognized the immediate fear before speaking. “Taking a wild guess, I'm gonna say you don’t wanna end up like those two, do you?”

The man without thinking shook his head, which made you let out a sarcastic laugh tilting your head at him before helping him up. “Okay, then where is Roulette?”

“I don't know, I don't know” He kept sputtering and shaking his head.

“She left this morning and left us here with the order to keep watch on someone” When you took a step closer to the guy, making him speak which made you look at him curiously before pushing him to the wall.

“On who?” You asked.

“Her, Lena Luthor” He responded, whispering only for you to hear, looking over where your ex-girlfriend stood.

A switch had changed and in seconds you felt everything come out, the rage, the pain, and in seconds you were seeing red. The calm, determined dementor had changed to an angry, protective one. A sudden outburst was what you had.

Moving your arm, pinning the man onto the wall with anger, you spoke eagerly and unease, threatening. Rage in your eyes, as you claimed to press harder into his chest, making the man cough in pain. “You tell Roulette that if she even thinks of breathing the same air in a 200 miles area as Ms. Luthor then I would make her life a living hell and everyone who is with her too”

Kara, who was listening in, smiled softly before looking down. The outburst had shown your care for her best friend, and that was a baby step that meant more than anything. The fact that you snapped at the moment your ex-girlfriend began mentioning showed that maybe it wasn't lost at all.

Your oldest sister looked at Kara curiously, before giving her a shoulder bump, giving her a questioning glance while your sister responded with a silent glance to you and a smile.

You pulled away from the man, giving him a second to breathe before striking your fist right at his jaw. Immediately knocking him down, the sound of the body plumb into the floor made you realize what just had happened, the myriad of feelings flowing through your mind were taken out the moment an arrow grazed your cheek and the soreness of your knuckles were now bothering you.

Looking behind you, identifying the red arrow, you let out a laugh before taking it out of the wall, throwing it to the side before turning around, softly moving your hand trying to relieve the ache. Oliver seemed to have caught up with the situation as he grabbed the arrow letting out a sigh.

“Still doing the same?” You shouted turning around where Thea stood on the top of the car with her bow in hand and black leather jacket on. A smirk on her face as the brunette jumped landing on the floor perfectly before making her way to you.

“I see you hadn't left the throne, princess” She claimed, teasing the last word. The two of you sharing a silent glance, when she came down. The small spark in her eyes didn't go unnoticed by you and neither by Oliver.

“And you are not so intimidating, princess” You flirted with the brunette, cleaning the small substance of blood coming out of the graze on your cheek with a teasing smile.

Lena knew the tone you were using, the smile you gave her, the little spark in your voice and eyes as you did. You were flirting with her, the jealousy feeling creeping inside her chest as she noticed. Drawing daggers in the brunettes back, she stood straight pulling out her CEO stand and expression, even if she felt her heart begin twisted remembering the once she was the one receiving the smile, the glance, the tone, everything. And she hoped that one day you would do it again.

#lena luthor #alex danvers x reader #lena luthor x reader #kara danvers x reader #baby danvers #supergirl imagine

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captaincravatthecapricious · 3 years

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Things You Said When it was Over

Somewhere else, anger, a truce, and fight, and a happy ending

cw Jon's typical level of wanting to die but not actually wanting to die, fighting, mentions of vomit but no vomit, mentions of stabbing, mentions of stitches, losing time

Spoilers for 200

Let me know if you enjoyed! Stop back in a week for another fic. I am accepting Things You Said prompt list prompts for Jon, Martin, and/or Tim! I have two prompts in my inbox and both have been back written, but if you are wondering if I have ignored your prompt, chances are I have not!

Being unwound hurts. Unwound. Rewritten. Removed. Pulled and crumpled and twisted and extracted. Spun in with a web of tapes.

Masses of crinkling magnetic strips. Unsure where voice, and web, and body, and blood intersect.

Woven and ripped through that careful crevasse.

And it hurts. Much more than being stabbed. With that awful scratch and skittering of strands being eaten by an eager, hungry machine.

As time and entities and two people are chewed through and eaten with all the care of a faulty cassette player.

It’s a shriek of static, the thrumming whine of machinery wound wrong. The deafening scrabble of unknowable and terrible things going Elsewhere. Loud enough that the explosion doesn’t even register. Just a background whine to the overpowering white noise of the end of the world moving.

And Jon wakes up.

With a gasp. Small. And so painfully normal. Like his POTS flaring up and waking up in the break room. Again.

That hasn’t happened since the world ended. Since things went wrong.

A strange thing to reminisce about. POTS isn’t something he thought he’d miss. And… well… he doesn’t? Didn’t? Doesn’t know the tense to use because there was that slim, slim chance that everything is actually okay. The smallest, most fragile idea that things are back to that idyllic normal of the safehouse.

He doesn't move for a while. Focusing on breathing. It's cold. He isn't sure if the air is cold or if he's experiencing cold himself, or if this is just a new way of feeling pain. He can't tell.

His chest hurts, but he can't make himself check for blood. Moving is still a little too beyond him.

He wants to open his eyes, and look for Martin, but he doesn't want this to go away. Because if he's alive, then Martin must be too, right? Martin was much more likely to survive this. Not being... you know, stabbed?

But what if only Jon is somewhere else? What if this is somewhere Martin couldn't follow?

In that case, Jon would rather not be alive at all. If he doomed all the other universes because he couldn't go through with it in the end... if he gave it all up for Martin... he can't live with that. He can't. More than not wanting to, he just... Can't.

Then again everything is... kind of numb so he can't actually be sure that Martin isn't there... but he is never that lucky. Jon never gets the privilege of the best case scenario.

Breathing still hurts. But he doesn’t think it hurts in the “breathing around a knife” sort of way. Then again, after bearing witness to the pain of Everyone on the planet, a single wound is hardly a drop in that ocean with all the other pain just Gone.

“Jon! Jon! Can you hear me?”

He cracks his eyes open, and is met with the safe house ceiling. Eyes struggling to focus, trying to find the source of the voice that certainly sounds like Martin, but Jon is too sore to move. The force of it hitting him out of nowhere, without him even trying to lift a finger. Senses filling the void of 7 billion people screaming with the voices of scars and joints and exhaustion and hunger.

The best response he can manage is a wheezy groan.

Wheezy?

Does he need his inhaler again? Did Martin pack that even? He hasn’t needed it… since… the world ended.

Everything’s blurry. Where did his glasses go?

“Oh thank Christ!”

Jon makes to sit up, but stars burst in his vision, and his arms give out.

Martin’s hands fluttering around him. Flying to his chest.

Jon carefully reaches for his chest also. There is a hole in his shirt. Well. A lot of holes, but he’s only looking for one.

He feels tacky blood on its way to drying. And as he carefully probes further, he finds a tidy line of stitches in slightly sticky thread, that he has a sinking suspicion is spider’s silk. A final gift. A thank you. He wants to vomit.

But Martin’s hand catches his, stopping him from potentially hurting himself. Jon stretches his free hand to cup Martin’s cheek. He finds it wet.

It occurs to him that Martin has been crying. Is crying? Jon can’t tell. His face is too far away to see more than the fuzzy outline. (Not that Martin’s face is actually far away, Jon just has shit vision).

Crying, present tense, Jon assesses, when Martin shakes with a suppressed, silenced sob. “How could you do that Jon? Fuck! I mean… I knew you would. But how could you do that? You Lied to me. You could have Died! And I know you didn’t. But Jon, I… I can’t. You Promised me! You Promised! I… How could you make me do that? To you? How could you? I… Jon, how could you?” Martin’s crying too hard to get anything else out, and Jon still hasn’t managed to find enough breath and energy to speak.

Jon whines. Too exhausted to even sign.

Martin’s hand on his chest. Still trying to keep the blood in, even when there is no blood trying to get out anymore. Martin’s usually warm hand icy (Jon hopes with fear, and not the Lonely, but he can’t know. Firstly because he can’t break another promise, Secondly because he doesn’t think he can Know anymore, and thinking about trying makes his stomach drop.)

And Jon just… can’t. He rolls on his side away from Martin. Curling up tightly. Against the angry words and the guilt, and the rest of the guilt, and the pain in his body. He’s doomed infinite worlds. He’s betrayed everyone who ever cared about him… who he ever cared about. He caused so much pain and he sat back and watched. It seared through him the entire time of unknown and uncountable quantity that made up the apocalypse.

All the words that he could never say, the guilt he could never express, all his own fear that had been just as much a meal for his god choking him.

And he braces for the hate and the rest of the yelling, and everything else he deserves. Everything he brought upon himself, one poor choice after another.

Squeezes his eyes shut and wills himself gone and wills that if he doesn’t just vanish out of everything that Martin will get done yelling quick so maybe Jon can grovel some comfort out of him, even if it isn’t forgiveness, it will be better than the aching nothing that has been threatening to overtake him since he tasted the bitter words of the false statement.

Martin more than deserves his anger, but Jon can’t take it. He’s literally held together by spider silk. He’s worn and tired and battered. Guilt plunging deeper than Martin’s knife ever could.

Not that he’s not grateful for this time with Martin. Not that he doesn’t deserve every centimeter of guilt piling up on him. He deserves all the hate. And all the anger.

He’s spineless, and he knows it. He Almost did the right thing, but he couldn’t. And he almost lost everything he cares about. And now he probably still has. And… and what? What now? Martin elected to stay with him despite it all, on one stupid, slim chance that things could be okay, but how can they be okay ever again, with this aching hole of fault and blame and regret and shame pulling at his core. And he wants to be pulled open and rip it out. He wants to enjoy what he has, but he can’t and Martin has every reason to hate him.

He’s lost time.

Martin’s calling his name, and his limbs are stiff and numb from bracing for an impact that never came.

“Jon. Christ. Jon! I’m… I… I didn’t mean to scare you. I… I don’t hate you. I love you, I promise. …I’m… angry. And we need to talk about this. But… but I think that should wait until you’re up for talking, and I’m up for not crying for ya know, more than five minutes at a time. ….And Fuck. I just… well. You owe me a good screaming at, too. And Goddamn it, you were just doing what you thought was right… and you tried to tell us… tell me. I’m not saying you were right, because you weren’t… but I’m not saying you were wrong. And. Well. We’re both here. Please. I’m sorry for yelling. Can I touch you?”

Jon nods jerkily. Because he can’t stand the distance between them. He doesn’t care if touch can get him hurt, he’d take hurt over the space between them.

Martin holds him like he’s precious and Jon cries.

Harder than he has in a very long time.

And when he’s done he’s empty and shaking and filthy.

They shower and sleep. In the morning they can shout at each other for broken promises and wandering off, and not communicating enough, and not listening when the other is trying to communicate. And one leaves in a huff, and one cries himself sick in the bathroom, and there is hugging and a trip to town for tea and figuring out if this is the universe they saved or one of the infinite they doomed. And there are years for the aftershocks of those arguments to bounce around, losing energy in the form of heat: tea, hugs, hot showers, overeager workouts, kisses a little too rough, hugs a little too tight, a strange combination between fierce affection, and things a little too much to make them feel like they are accomplishing something.

And they can grow whole once more.

And they can grow old.

#the magnus archives #tma #tma spoilers #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #jonmartin #cw suicidal ideation #sort of #cw fighting

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themagicalmysticalboy · 4 years

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John and Paul had a big argument about Brian, Paul still cant forget about Spain. It's a very cold and raining night, after very intensing session of drinking John appears under Paul's house, but Paul isnt inside...The next morning Macca finds frozen wet and limp figure curled at his doorsteps.

a/n: this has lit been in my inbox for so long and i feel awful. So sorry anon. hope you’re still around to see it <3

Three minutes.

That’s all it took for John to have Paul fuming. When the phone rang throughout the house he had half the mind to not answer at all, figuring it would be John. But now he was stuck on the line with a drunk and poorly apologizing Lennon. In reality, he was so incoherent that Paul wasn’t even sure if there was an actual apology buried in his mumbling. On the contrary, he seemed to be blaming Paul, if anything.

“Lemme jus- I’ll come… come over, yeah.” John hiccuped through his words.

“Don’t, alright? I’d rather not deal with you now.” He almost told John he wouldn’t be home, anyway, but that wouldn’t be clever. So, he kept his lips sealed on the topic.

“It didn’t mean a thing, Paul. Brian was just there.” He said it as if it explained everything.

Paul pinched the bridge of his nose, his other hand tightening around the phone with a death grip. “I don’t want to hear how it happened.” His voice almost didn’t sound like his own. “I don’t want to hear you blame Brian if that’s what you’re at.” John tried to interrupt but Paul only raised his voice higher. “He doesn’t even know we were together!” Paul’s eyes widened as his mouth snapped shut. Would John catch it? Or was he too drunk to comprehend it?

Deafening silence made Paul’s heartbeat in his ears. “You said ‘were.’” John’s words came out slow and almost sober. “Were together, Macca.”

Paul swallowed down the lump in his throat, his eyes stinging with tears he wouldn’t let slip. There was no going back now. “Yes. We were together.”

He slammed the phone to the receiver just in time to clamp his hands over his mouth, holding in a sob. Rained poured down outside his window as tears slipped down his cheeks. All he could do was stare at the raging storm and wonder if there was any way to fix what was now so painfully broken. He thought of calling off his plans with Mal and just staying by the phone for another call from John. But that was pathetic. He had promised to watch the football match with Mal a week in advance. There wasn’t a good reason- or at least one he could say out loud- to cancel. There was also the issue of not being able to move. Paul seemed immobilized with sadness and fear, quiet sobs escaping him as he stared into the haze outside his window.

He stayed by the phone for a while until a crack of thunder jolted him to life and he hurriedly wiped his cheeks free of tears. With some much-needed washing up in the bathroom, he was ready to go, wanting to leave before the storm became too much and he would be stuck in his house with only his thoughts. The idea of that terrified him into rushing through the house and hurriedly leashing Martha. She helped him in his hurry, not letting him think twice before tugging him along and to his car.

They made it into the car, assaulted by the frigid rain, shivering. Paul cranked up the heat as soon as the car was running, rubbing at his arms. The car ride wasn’t long enough for him to get lost in his thoughts, thankfully, and when he arrived at Mal’s the man kept them busy with snacks and other guests and drinks. Paul easily dropped into social mode and left his strife with John in the back of his mind. He knew it would rear up as soon as he was home, maybe even just in his car, but he wouldn’t ruin Mal and everyone else’s fun while he was there.

Whether it was the knowledge of having to face his own actions or the still-raging storm keeping him, Paul didn’t leave Mal’s house until very late into the night. Mal had suggested they play a board game to sober everyone up and it drug on until almost five in the morning. The rain was at a drizzle when Paul put his car into park.

He wanted to wait just a bit longer for it to come to a halt but Martha was wiggling around like mad, whining and pawing at his arm. He sighed, letting his forehead hit the steering wheel. “Fine,” he breathed.

She shot anxious glances between him and the door until he undid his seatbelt to lean over and pop the passenger door open. She shot out of the car and into the darkness with a happy wag in her tail the instant she could, leaving Paul to stare after her. Exhaustion mingled with dread, making him unwilling to go to his house. He sluggishly got out of the car. As he leaned back in to grab his wallet, Martha began to bark.

He dragged out a long sight, head dropping, before snapping back up and yelling out for her. She only barked louder, followed by a pained whimper. The pitiful sound shot a spike of alertness into Paul’s core. He yelled out again as he ran but the dog had gone quiet. Fear was shoving his senses into full throttle and he bolted to his doorstep.

When he finally arrived, he was struck still. The droplets of water now moved in slow motion, the biting cold a distant memory. His dread filled the void left by his other senses.

A figure was curled up on his doorstep, Martha nudging gently. With a rough nudge and a nip at the hair, the figure's head tilted into the dim porchlight. The aquiline nose and auburn hair of his John was illuminated. His mouth just barely open, eyes softly closed.

All Paul could do was stare in shock and horror. The world was thrown out of pause when a trickle of water sent a shiver down his spine. He was suddenly aware the rain had picked back up and the cold was whirled up with a nasty wind.

Words were leaving his lips but he didn't know what he was saying or why he was talking. All he knew was that he had to get John inside. Martha, bless her, was ahead of Paul, biting on to John’s collar and pulling him towards the door.

In a flurry of movement, the door was thrown open and John was dragged across the threshold. With a deep huff of breath, Paul lifted John into his arms. “John? Johnny, come on, please!”

He continued to plead as he rushed to the nearest couch. Once laid out, John let out a groan before curling into a ball again. He was shivering like mad, nearly vibrating off the couch.

“Hey, you’re alright,” Paul cooed softly as he stripped John of his soaking wet clothes. “Can you talk to me?”

“Where- wherewereyou.” His words rushed together in an airy gust before his teeth began to chatter.

Snatching up every blanket in eyesight, Paul wrapped him up into a tight bundle. “Do you need an ambulance? Should I call-”

“‘S fine.” His eyes cautiously opened, lulling around the room until they found Paul. “Where were you?”

“I’m phoning the ambulance,” Paul decided. He moved to leave John’s side but felt a strangely strong grip pull him back. He fell onto the cushion, sitting by John’s hip.

“I’m fine.” The words came out with a startling levelness, only to be followed by more chattering of his teeth.

Paul studied him, their eyes locked in battle. With a hum, Paul narrowed his gaze, “I’m getting you a warm washcloth.”

“Alright.”

Once a basin of hot water was filled and the fire was lit, Paul began his nursing. He fused over John as neither man uttered a word. Grabbing more covers and some pillows, Paul tucked him in tight and lifted his head to put down the pillows. All the while, Martha sat wearily at John’s feet.

Now thoroughly bundled, he ran fingertips along John’s temple and down to his jaw. “Sure you're alright?”

“I waited for you,” John said with malice, only to be betrayed by a faltering voice. Paul had not noticed the lingering smell of alcohol on his breath until just then. He was obviously no longer drunk, only sad and cold, but it must have taken a lot to pass out in the freezing storm.

“I was a Mal’s, love. Do you want a cup of tea? Or I could run a ba-”

“Stop!” John pushed at his mountain of covers and forced himself upright. “Get-”

Paul grabbed him by the shoulders to steady him only to be pushed away. They both tumbled from the couch, hitting the hardwood with two distinct thuds. Martha let out a bark but didn’t move.

Paul made to speak but as soon as he opened his mouth, John spat out, “Shut your bleeding trap and listen to me.”

His mouth was still hung open so he snapped it shut and gulped through a strained throat. John’s eyes danced viciously between his.

“I’m sorry! Alright? I’m sorry and I know I can never take it back but I am. I-” Tears were welling in his eyes. “It was so stupid. Stupid of me to try to shift the blame. Stupid of me to do it at all. But,” John’s hands were in his damp hair, tears streaming down his cheeks. “I love you.”

John was breathing hard and Paul felt he wasn't breathing at all. There was a delicate sheet of glass creeping between them. A single mistake could shatter it to the ground and leave them bleeding.

Much softer, slower, and steadier, John said, “You don’t have to forgive me. I don’t deserve it. Sure as hell don’t deserve you.” When Paul didn’t respond, John continued. “I was drunk when I came. Was quite intent on telling you off- maybe break a vase or two.” Paul huffed a pained laugh. “But I’m sober as I can be now. I just want you to… You should know how much I mean it when I say that I’m sorry. If you don’t want me any longer, that’s fine.”

The sheet of glass dissolved on the spot, melting into the wood and warming the space. There was a vague awareness of the short bursts of nervous laughter leaving his lips. All he could do was stare at the half-naked man on his floor that had just poured his heart out. He had no clue how much the thought of them being over had weighed on him until the moment the worry lifted away. Gathering himself for the sake of the confused Lennon, Paul scooted towards him and threw a cover over his shoulders. Biting hard on his own lip, Paul cupped John’s face with both hands.

“You’re the stupidest man I have ever met.” He smiled with all the sincerity and adoration in his body.

“I’m what?”

Paul laughed again, nerves completely drained from it, his hands moving to John’s shoulder and head falling into his chest. He breathed in the man, pulling him between his legs to hug him tightly. His skin was still cold, his body still trembling. “First of all, that’s all you had to ever say. Second, I’m just glad you didn’t kill yourself in the cold.”

John nuzzled his nose into the crook of Paul’s neck. “I’m slightly offended that me not dying was your second point.”

Paul only held him closer. “I hate you so much. But you’ll always be the love of my life.”

#i wrote this in a sleep deprived haze #so hope it’s alright #mclennon fanfiction #the beatles #paul mccartney #john lennon #mclennon #the beatles fanfiction #ask #fic request

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caspian-the-seafarer · 3 years

Text

Hello, lovely people! I hit 400 followers a week or so ago and wasn’t sure what to do to celebrate since I already have requests open. I really want to interact with you all more, though, so here’s what I’m thinking:

I still want requests from you all, but I’m also going to start reblogging ask games more often. Feel free to come into my inbox to ask those questions, but I also want your answers to them! For example, if the question is something like “what’s you favorite color”, when you submit an ask please also include your own answer! I’ll answer asks regardless of whether you include your own answer though, obviously, I would just like to hear from you as well! Ditto with tag games, I’ll participate in the ones I get tagged in much more than I have been but I also love getting tagged in those regardless of whether I actually find the motivation to complete them.

If you don’t really care about that kind of thing and just want to see content, no worries! I’ll tag all those posts with #not content, or #casual, so that you can block them if you want. If you do, though, feel free to message me as often as you want: trust me, you’re not bothering me at all. I just want to get an idea of what you all are like so I know who my audience is (and don’t feel so much like I’m yelling into a void of 400+ pictures on a screen!) XD

#not content #casual

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jiminsheart · 4 years

Text

Bittersweet Smiles | KTH

from this prompt list | masterlist

requested: yes | no

prompt: 1 + 8 w/ taehyung

“We’re not just friends and you fucking know it.” + “Why are you so jealous?”

genre: angst, best friends to lovers

words: 2155

warnings: slight swearing, Taehyung and oc being dumb, Tae’s kind of a playboy, some mature themes?

a/n: okay, so you all probably know by now how much i love taehyung. i’m also such a sucker for angsty best friend aus, so this was so much fun to write and ended up way longer than intended. special thanks to the anon who requested this, hope you like it! and as always, my inbox is open for requests, messages, and feedback :)

Loud crunching filled your ears, and you tried to ignore it as you continued to work on your essay. The crinkling of plastic wrap only continued on, distracting you from the words in front of you.

Getting more annoyed, you put your earphones on, turning the volume all the way up to drown out the noise. It worked for a few minutes, but eventually the sound of that god-awful crunching made its way through your music causing you to groan.

Tugging the earphones out, you glared at your best friend sitting across the table. “Taehyung, this is a library. Could you please put that away or go somewhere else?”

The boy only raised his eyebrows at you before continuing to munch on his chips. “Sorry, no can do, sweetheart,” he said around a mouth full of chips. “You know eating helps me focus.”

Scrunching your nose, you turned away. “That’s disgusting. Close your mouth, weirdo.”

Taehyung winked at you before sending a kiss your way. “Shut up, you know you love me.”

Feigning annoyance, you ducked your head back down to hide the blush blooming on your face. In love. With your best friend. Oh, man, if only he knew.

It wasn’t like you wanted to fall in love with Taehyung – in fact, it was the complete opposite. Your best friend is, for lack of a better word, a playboy. A girl already on his arm and flashing smirks at another before the end of the week, you could never keep up with girlfriends. You’d say you felt bad for the girls he went out with, but with his sharp jaw, teasing eyes, and that damn mouth of his, it wasn’t hard to imagine what they saw in him.

Though, you really wished you didn’t.

It’s been almost a year since your feelings for him started, and they only grew bigger every time he flashed you that wide smile of his. It’d been after a long night of studying, eyes drooping, but Taehyung always knew how to cheer you up and keep you on track.

And maybe it was the haze of sleepiness making you feel things that normally wouldn’t have caught your attention, but you couldn’t help to admire how his brows furrowed as he tried to solve the practice problem in front of him. The way he lightly bit his lip in concentration, or how he tilted his head to the side in thought, exposing his strong jawline.

But when he glanced up at you and gave you his signature boxy smile, eyes glimmering, you knew you were done for. Added to the list of all the other girls falling for his damned charms.

Your hands nervously fidgeted with the bottom of your dress as you stared at yourself in the mirror. Hair falling down around your shoulders, dark eye makeup and red lipstick, you looked completely different from just a few hours ago. The neckline of the black dress you wore dipped down to show off supple breasts with a hemline shorter than what you’d normally wear, but maybe being a little more flashy than usual might be just what you needed.

Taehyung’s friend had invited you both to a party tonight to celebrate the end of finals week, and to both their surprise, you’d actually agreed this time. You’d always declined, not wanting to deal with the smell of booze and sweat or the pounding hangover the next morning. But with finals over and no exam in sight, it was the perfect time to have some fun.

Feeling confident and ready for the night, you walked out into the living room where Taehyung sat on the couch, playing with his phone. Like the kind, loving, and not at all impatient best friend that he is, he had waited for you to finish getting ready when he walked in on time and you were still figuring out what to wear. And he had only yelled at you to hurry up a few times.

He stood up as he heard you exit the room, ready to head over to the door, but paused when he caught sight of you.

You grinned, holding your arms out and doing a little spin. “Do I look good?”

Taehyung stood there quietly for a moment, mouth slightly ajar, and you took this time to look over his outfit. His hair was parted to the side, and he wore a dark button up shirt with the top unbuttoned, giving you a full view of his long neck and protruding collarbones. He had it tucked into his black skinny jeans, and you tried not to stare at how thick his thighs looked in them.

Glancing back up, you waved your arms, trying to get your best friend’s attention back. “Tae?”

He finally seemed to snap out of it, raising a brow at you and motioning at your clothes. “You’re going like that?”

Slightly taken aback, you raised an eyebrow at him. “Yeah, why? Does it look bad?”

“No, it’s not that!” Taehyung stumbled over his words, not wanting to offend you. “It’s just… a little much, don’t you think?”

With all the effort put into dressing up, you’d hoped he’d at least comment on how good you looked. His words stung, and so you lashed out. “A little much?”

Rubbing the back of his neck, he replied, “I just mean, you normally hate parties and just stay to the side, so it might get you more attention than you’re looking for.”

“Oh, so now I’m uptight?”

You don’t know why you’re being so defensive at his words. Normally, you’d brush off the way he’d tease you for being so focused on school, so why was this any different?

Maybe today, just today, you were hoping he’d finally notice you and not one of those other girls that’d be fawning all over him at the party.

“You’re my best friend y/n, all I’m saying is that you…“ He trailed off, unsure of what to say. “I’m just being a good friend and looking out for you.”

Right. Just a good friend.

You waved your arms in the air above you, dancing along to the beat of the music. Hands came up from behind and rested on your hips, pulling out a smile as he moved along with your body. Just what you needed to complete the night.

After your fight with Taehyung, the two of you made your way to the party in silence, promptly leaving him behind as soon as your feet crossed the front entrance. You were afraid the party would be too packed for you to enjoy it, but the stress faded away as the haze of alcohol took over your senses.

Grinding back on the guy, you tilted your head back and let it rest on his shoulder, reveling in the feeling. It’d been so long since a guy had paid you any attention, and even longer since you’d reciprocated. With exams being done, it felt nice to finally let loose and have a little fun for once.

And you can do it without your dumb best friend too.

Across the room, you were unaware of dark eyes running over your figure, sending daggers over to the guy with his hips just a little too close to you for his comfort. He took a sip of his drink as he leaned back on the wall, not even pretending like he was paying attention to the girl at his side desperately trying to keep him interested.

He might’ve been a little too harsh on you earlier, he admits, but he knows that the party scene wasn’t what you were into. You preferred quiet nights in, sitting on the couch watching a movie, finishing up a pizza and complaining about how the logic just doesn’t make sense. The music here was too loud, too upbeat, hands too grabby for your taste.

At least, that’s what he told himself when he saw you walk out of your room in that tight little dress that made him think thoughts too unholy for his best friend. And it definitely wasn’t because he hated the idea of other guys seeing you like this. Of other guys being able to touch you like this when he couldn’t.

So, the words slipped out before he could stop himself.

He’d be lying if he said he didn’t like you, but these days it seemed like all he could do was lie. Lie to the girls he went out with about how much he cared for them, lie to himself that his feelings for you were merely that of a best friend. But most importantly, he felt his heart break a little every time he lied straight to your face as the words best friend left his mouth when all he wanted was something more.

And now he drowned out the bitter feeling on his tongue and filled the void in his heart with the taste of alcohol.

When Taehyung couldn’t stand the sight of you with that guy’s hands running up and down your body any longer, the sly smirks you’d flash him every now and then, he pushed himself off the wall, ignoring the girl’s protests. He marched straight up to you, grabbing hold of your wrist and dragging you down the hall, not even sparing the guy a glance.

He didn’t look at you once as he pulled you behind him, not even noticing your attempts to free yourself from his grip. Once the sound of music faded away, he stopped, causing you to bump straight into his back.

As he turned, you finally pushed his hand off, glaring up at him. “What’s wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong with me? I should be asking you that!” He waved back to the direction of the party. “You’ve been ignoring me all night, and now you’re all up on that random guy!”

You frowned at his words. First he says you’re too uptight, now you’re having too much fun? “Why are you so jealous?”

“Jealous?” he scoffed. “You’re just out there, dancing on whichever guy decides to give you attention like it’s nothing!”

“Why do you care?” you snapped. “I thought you’d be happy I was letting loose and having fun for once, Taehyung.”

You made to move past him, but Taehyung shoved your shoulder, pushing you back up against the wall. He placed his arms on either side of your head, caging you in. He tilted his head down, nose brushing yours.

“Cut the crap, y/n. Don’t act like I didn’t catch you looking at me when you had that guy’s hands all over you.” His growl rumbled low, leaving you weak in the knees, but you forced yourself to ignore it. He’d been acting like a brat all night, glaring at anyone that tried to talk to you, and you’d be damned if he ruined the fun.

You looked him right in the eyes, making sure to drive the point in. “Well, you said it yourself, right? We’re such good friends.” Poking his chest, you tried to keep your voice steady. “So why don’t you just go back over to that girl you were talking to and leave. Me. The hell. Alone.” You emphasized each word with a sharp jab to his chest.

Taehyung grabbed your hand and pinned it above your head, moving closer to you so that his chest was pressed right up against yours. “We’re not just friends and you fucking know it.”

His hot breath fanned over your face, so you closed your eyes and tilted your head back, trying to get away from the heat building up. This new angle exposed your neck even more to Taehyung, and you gasped as you felt his nose run along the length of it.

“Tell me you didn’t wish it was me behind you, y/n,” he whispered into your skin. One of his hands fell to your hip, gripping tightly, making you whimper at the contrast of his rough action to his soft voice.

“Tell me you didn’t wish it was my hands on your body.” Taehyung’s nose brushed your jaw just below your ear, your mouth opening slightly at the touch.

He pulled back, grabbing your chin with his other hand and forcing you to look into his eyes. “Tell me you don’t want me to kiss you, y/n.”

You gulped, trying to clear your dry mouth. His mouth was so close, a little bit higher and his lips would be right on yours. “I can’t.”

“Hmm?” he hummed, tilting his head to the side. “Tell me what you want, then.”

“I want-“ you cut off, too embarrassed to say it out loud.

Taehyung’s thumb rubbed gently at you chin, urging you forward. “Go on, tell me. What are best friends for, hm?”

Fuck it, you thought, alcohol buzzing through you. It’s now or never.

“Kiss me, Tae.”

#taehyung angst #bts scenarios #bts angst #v #bts prompts #bts imagines #mine

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nev3rfound · 6 years

Text

watching over you : b.b

brief summary: having been dumped by bucky but steve and sam still look out for you, asking you to talk to bucky.

word count: 2.8k requested? nope, but I had this idea and kinda rolled with it warnings: none that I’m really aware of besides swearing

* requests are open if you have any ideas, feel free to drop ‘em in my inbox or message me. *

Burying my hands deeper into my pockets I hold in my breath, knowing the slightest bit of discomfort will only alarm them further. It’s been almost a year since we broke up as a result of him ending things. But, despite him wanting us to have space, his friends are still watching my every move.

I turn my head and see two men duck quickly and I let out a small groan.

Picking up the pace I head further down the street, turning left towards a busy cafe knowing if I can lose them anywhere, it’ll be in a public setting where girls fawn at Captain America’s feet.

Pleased I smile to myself as I open the door to the cafe, my eyes land on a small table free in the far corner by the painted rose wall. “Hi, one latte please?” I ask quietly as I slip my earphones out of my ears and place them back in my pocket, avoiding the glass windows in case they spot me.

The waitress smiles politely, as they all do as I take my drink and wander quietly over to the table. I sit with my back turned, hoping the change in hair colour is enough to throw them off sometimes.

My eyes focus on the swirls of steam as they rise from the mug and the small biscuit that perches on the edge of the saucer, painted with lavender and roses. I try to ignore the feelings in my heart, shutting them down as I take my mug off of the saucer and turn it upside down. If I can’t see it, I can’t remind myself of what is no more.

“Fancy company?” Lifting my head I let out a groan as I shift in my seat meeting his growing smile.

I tilt my head, looking behind us to see there is no sign of another joining us. “What? No backup?” I raise an eyebrow as Sam as he slides into the seat opposite me leaning forwards resting his elbows on the table.

“Didn’t think I’d need it,” He shrugs his shoulders and I cross my arms. “oh? I do know, huh?” He jokes as if we were still friends. “Come on, Y/N/N.” I shoot him a look, causing his smile to slowly fall, hiding away once again.

“You don’t get to call me that, and you don’t have the right to follow me, check if I’m alright anymore.” I tell him quietly, not wanting to attract any attention in the busy cafe. My eyes glance around, seeing no one has paused their conversations to overhear ours. “Everyone lost the right when he broke my heart.” I state as I stand up, sipping the latte whilst it is still hot before heading out of the door without saying another word.

Another day, another stalker.

Today it’s Tony, one that is harder to ignore than Sam or Steve can be. The difference being Tony likes to stand out, cause a scene. He knows I’m aware I can’t ignore him in a public space without it resulting in being filmed by hundreds of onlookers.

I’ve been lucky enough to avoid a situation with him for this long.

Nine months. Nine whole months since I’ve seen him, and eight months since his friends began to follow me without stating an obvious reason why.

I can’t live like this, no one usually cares that much about their ex when their relationship is over.

Heading straight to the park I begin to jog lightly, hoping to lose him through the crowds. But I should know better by now in that such a thing can’t happen with Stark. He has more eyes than the President if needed.

“Ah, sweet Y/n.” Bumping into a heavy mass I look up, sighing as I see Thor smiling brightly at me. “What a surprise seeing you here.” He tries to sound surprised, but I just deadpan him.

“Really Thor? You’re even involved now?” The God shrugs his shoulders as I turn around, only to be greeted by Tony smiling at me.

“And you are not an easy person to keep track of sweetheart.” Tony kids and I begin to walk away only to have the two walking alongside me. “We can talk in the easy way, or the hard way.” He states and I remain silent, pulling my phone out and slipping my earphones in.

I can’t make out the next thing he says, but before I realise I’m flung over the Gods shoulder as the two of them are running out of the park. “You guys are so fucking dead!” I yell as I kid at Thor's chest, fully aware it does nothing besides tickle.

“If you’re able to get out of Thor’s grasp I might find that scary.” Tony laughs to himself and I lift my head up, seeing people now stopping and filming. “Let’s hope this is worth the trouble, Barnes.” Tony mutters to himself and I lower my head, suddenly a wave of realisation crushing my body.

Barnes.

He was in on this all along.

“Tony, Tony!” I yell to him as the two of them slow down as we near a tall building. “Please don’t tell me you’re taking me back?” I ask with fear filling my voice.

His eyes meet mine as I plead for him not to, and he can tell it all.

Tony was the first person I spoke to after it happened. He sat and listened as I sobbed for hours before helping me book a flight out of the country, have some time away to clear my head.

Yet here he is, dragging me back after setting me free.

I remain silent during the entire journey, my eyes watch the city life whir by in a mere blur. I was part of that blur years ago, but I can’t go back to being that meaningless, not anymore.

“We’re almost here.” Tony mumbles to me as I turn to look at him hoping he can sense the pain I am oozing in my eyes.

“I’m not ready, Tony.” I tell him softly, hoping Thor won’t hear anything from in front of the Chopper. “I, I don’t want to see him.” He knows I’m lying through my teeth, but I’ve been telling myself the same thing since the day we ended.

I don’t want to see him. I don’t want to tell him how I feel. I don’t want to realise how much I still need him in my life.

It didn’t matter how many times I repeated those sentences to myself, it hasn’t worked in the slightest. And here I am, nine months later being taken back to confront everything, whether I wish to or not.

Walking into the building a wave of nostalgia courses through me as I stand close to Tony, not wanting to stray from his side.

He holds my hand, giving it a small squeeze. “It’ll be okay, I promise.” He leans down and whispers to me. “If there is a problem, just tell FRIDAY.”

I nod, keeping it all in mind. If I’m not happy, if I want to leave I have every right to. I don’t belong here anymore, this isn’t my home.

As we head down a corridor towards a conference room the blinds remain closed, but the door is ajar.

“What if she hates me, Steve?” His voice makes me stop in my tracks.

I squeeze Tony tightly, tears pricking my eyes.

The last time I heard his voice he told me it was over, the look in his eyes was void of emotion as he said the words with no remorse. “I, I don’t think I can do it.” I mumble, holding back the tears that try to spill over.

Tony moves to stand in front of me, placing his arms on my shoulders as he lowers himself to my level. “Hey, it’ll be okay. You two need to talk.”

Letting out a heavy sigh I wipe my eyes before walking ahead, pushing the door open, unsure what to expect to come.

The room falls silent as I stand there, my eyes locked on my shoes as I can see Steve’s boots just to the right of my vision whilst his remain out of sight. “I, I’ll leave you to it, Buck.” Steve mutters as he slips past me silently.

As the sound of the door closing clicks, I can hear him moving uneasily on the spot, unsure what to do first. “Y/n,” He softly calls my name, and I force my head up to meet his eyes.

I take a step back, barely recognising the man before me.

His hair has been cut back short, stubble has grown out and he’s timider. But those eyes, they hold so much now. In amongst the pain in those iris, there is guilt knitted into the icy blue.

Keeping a straight face I walk around the conference table, my fingertips gliding along the polished wood as he remains still opposite me. “Hi, Bucky.” I mumble, unsure of my own voice and the confidence it might hold.

“I, I’m sorry I made you come back.” I can hear him walking slowly now, moving around the table as I do to keep a good distance between us.

“Couldn’t you have at least asked me yourself?” The sentence comes out more bitter than I intend it to, and I can hear the silence prolonging before he decides to speak up.

“You know I couldn’t. How could I begin to ask you?” He asks, his voice slowly growing in confidence whilst mine is diminishing. “Will you at least look at me?”

Lifting my head I stare right at him, my eyes on his as I force the tears back. “Happy now?” I ask, raising an eyebrow. “Why am I here, Bucky?”

Bucky sighs to himself running his fingers through his shorter hair. “I had to tell you the truth.”

I pull out one of the conference chairs, sitting down at the table whilst he takes the seat opposite me. Thankfully there’s enough distance between us for me to feel just about comfortable, given the circumstance.

“And what truth is that, huh? How you realised you broke my heart and had your friends keep tabs on me? Or how I literally left the country to get over you? What about September? I’m guessing the Avengers kept you updated on all of that mess.”

Leaning back in the chair he hunches his shoulders forward as he exhales deeply. “I didn’t know what was happening in September, Y/n.” His eyes meet mine and they remain locked. “If I knew,” He shakes his head and I can see him chewing on the inside of his cheek, a habit he picked up from me. “if I knew what was happening I wouldn’t have stayed away.”

“It happened, Bucky. I can’t take that back.” I state as I place my hand on my side, knowing the scar is still there and is barely settling. “So, please tell me why I’m here so I can fucking leave.” I want to sound bitter now. I want my words to hurt him just a slither of how much he hurt me nine months ago.

He pushes his chair back as he rises to his feet, pacing back and forth as his metal fingers connect with his flesh. “When we were together I knew you would always be in danger, and you knew the risk when we met.” He glances over and I simply nod. “But the longer we were together, the more deadly those risks became.”

Adjusting myself I sit up straight, this all being news to me. “Why didn’t you tell me the risks had increased?”

“Because I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want to hide you away or shelter you for the rest of our lives. Your life.” He rephrases quickly and I can fee my heart drop, that sense of reassurance gone all too soon.

“Was, was it them?” I speak up, unsure if I want to hear the answer.

We sat for nights on end, sleepless violet and navy skies were above us as I listened to his dreams, the nightmares that haunted him from HYDRA. It scared him more than he wished to admit aloud, but the thought that they were still out there somewhere, willing to do anything made him more vulnerable than he wanted to be.

Seeing him nod I feel my body tighten. “We had a message, a threat from one of their teams in Berlin. They told us you were next.”

I shake my head, a cold chill running down my spine. “I, I was next? Next for what?” My tone is low, my voice timid as I try to comprehend what it meant, not wanting to over think it.

“You know the nightmares that I used to have?” I slowly nod. “Those were all happening to you, I had to sit and watch you.” His voice is rising with fear, the anger bubbling under the surface. “I knew I couldn’t keep you safe with me. They only wanted you because of me so I had to cut all ties from you.”

Standing up I force the chair back as I glare at him. “You broke me, Bucky.” I state as I begin to pace, not giving him the chance to speak up. “Nine whole months I’ve spent blaming myself. One of which I spent hospitalised because of some sick fuck stabbing me seven times.” Lifting my shirt up I show him the large scar that runs from my ribs down towards my thigh. “And now I’m wondering if this was an accident or planned?”

“Doll,” He hushes as his feet move quickly to my side of the table, but I hold my arm out as I back away. “I wanted to protect you. I, I thought I was doing the right thing.”

Scoffing I lift my hands up to my hair, clutching it as the tears now falling freely. “If you loved me Bucky, you would know how wrong that was. We could’ve talked about it, come up with some solution rather than you breaking me, making me question everything about our relationship.”

Before he opens his mouth I shove past him, opening the door and quickly nearing the lift.

“Y/n!” He yells and I see him running towards me, but I press the button silently praying FRIDAY will close the doors in time.

Just as I see a slither of blue silver emerges, forcing the doors open until he slips through into the confined space. “Oh, no.” I chuckle in disbelief as I press a few buttons, but FRIDAY remains unresponsive. “Fuck.”

“FRIDAY?” Bucky calls out, but the AI doesn’t respond. “I think we’re stuck.”

“No shit, James.” I mutter, not thinking twice about calling him by his name like I used to constantly.

Glancing up I can see a smile playing on his lips as he leans against the glass whilst I stand with my arms crossed. “I didn’t want to hurt you, doll. But I had to make sure you didn’t come back.” His voice speaks all the guilt I wanted to hear months ago, the pain I’ve endured finally being reflected.

“Well, you did a good job of it.” I retort as I turn to face him. “Is this why everyone's been following me? Making sure I’m safe?” He slowly nods in response, and it all begins to click. “Even with us apart, you wanted to make sure I was still okay?”

“I always wanted you to be okay, Y/n. I just knew I couldn’t be the one to do it.”

Gulping I look up at his icy blue eyes as I hesitantly step closer. “God, why did you have to do it, James.” I lightly cry and close my eyes as I feel his gentle fingers glide along my cheek, wiping the tears away.

“I knew if I had lost you that you would always be safe, even if it broke my heart, doll.” His words sound so close as I feel his lips ghosting mine. “But it only made things worse. I’ve not slept properly without you, I have regretted every decision, I’ve lost lives on missions, I cause arguments, I isolate myself until I know you’re okay.”

I lift my eyes up, seeing him closer than ever. “You, you don’t have to lose me, not ever, James.” I mumble as I stand in m tiptoes, resting my hands on his shoulders as I gently press my lips to his.

Shutting my eyes tightly I feel him push back, sending a wave of relief through my body as I hold onto him tighter. His arms fall to my waist, lifting me up whilst we remain connected.

He pulls away ever so slightly his words being nothing more than whispers in my lips. “I’m never letting you go again, doll.”

I smile softly, sniffing. “Not if I have a say.”

As I stand back down I hear someone laughing. “Okay, FRIDAY, you can return the settings on the elevator.” Tony laughs over the AI and I glance to Bucky who simply smiles before intertwining our fingers, refusing to ever let go.

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sagemoderocklee · 6 years

Note

Come on its not homophobia or transphobia to call a guy mom. Sometimes its a joke sometimes its just a nickname that happened. I call one of my dads mom too. Thats not homophobic propaganda and if youre comfortable with your gender you wouldnt care. It was also a thing with gay parents for a long time to make sure they seem like they have straight parents in school etc to avoid bullying. Its not meant to harm anyone and you should stop attacking everyone for little things when you have no idea

And im sorry that was not meant as hate or anything. You are an amazing person but i feel like at this point you attack all of us all day and you seem so aggressive. Like you never really think about other peoples reason or respect their life experiences

homophobia and transphobia... is a real fucking thing that affects real people, including me--like hi yes i am not straight or cis so i really don’t know what you expect from me except to be upset seeing homophobia and transphobia in fandom, i don’t rlly know what you think you’re doin comin in to my inbox tryna school me with some gotcha moment like i don’t know what’s the what. you calling me aggressive is just so wild because i was literally not being aggressive. would you like me to be aggressive? would you prefer it if i got real fucking mean about this?

guess what, i wasn’t attacking anyone. i was trying to educate, but refusing to listen is why i generally don’t waste my time and why i am now mad. i’m sorry that i don’t want to go into the gaalee tag and see gross fucking things in there and decided that for once maybe i would take time out of MY night after work to try and help someone understand why that’s not cute.

once again, jokes do not exist in a vacuum. im sorry that you’ve decided that fandom should be free of people being critical of content, but i’m not that way and i never will be. personally i don’t know exactly what else you’re over here talkin about in terms of me “attacking everyone” like what? are you also mad because of the ao3 shit? like i really do bite my tongue constantly when it comes to fandom nonsense and stick to my shitposts and my fics for the most part. excuse me for deciding that i didn’t wanna see homophobia tonight!

but quite frankly if you thought my response to that post was an attack--that’s on you. that’s something you have to take and ask yourself “why am i reacting so strongly?” is it because you now need to examine how you maybe contribute to homophobia or transphobia in fandom spaces?

also Gaara? not a real fucking person. he has no actual agency, so the choices you make in regards to him are in fact YOURS. he did not choose to be called mom--and ya know what since we’re on the topic of this: i hate boruto but Gaara literally NEVER is called mom in canon by his CHILD so jot that the fuck down thank you very much.

listen, if we don’t talk about these things, then NOTHING is going to change. I’m sorry that you don’t grasp why this was homophobic, i’m sorry that you think your experiences mean that this particular brand of homophobia is not actually homophobia--but your personal experiences do not account for the systematic violence that gay men face. end of story. gay men are constantly experiencing gendered violence. this is a complicated and nuanced discussion that i no longer have the energy for because y’all fully fucking exhaust me with how unwilling you are to listen. there are so many layers to homophobia and apparently it just isn’t clicking so really i feel like i’m just fucking mad and yelling into the void because you wanna plug up your ears and be upset cause i wasn’t happy with what’s being done

also, a final note, please consider that children referring to their parents as ‘mom and dad’ instead of ‘mom and mom’ or ‘dad and dad’ to avoid--what was that? HOMOPHOBIA! is not a cute thing it is a tool of survival

#god i am so fucking tired of this goddamn fandom #this is why gaalee has never taken off #because if it's not leegaa is better lee's the seme #it's this fucking bullshit #like yall really just...#don't fucking message me again #i am so vastly uninterested in continuing a conversation with ppl unwilling to listen #Anonymous

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starboyholland · 7 years

Text

Messy Drunk pt 3

Rating: PG-13 for language

Summary: you and Fionn pine over eachother for far too long and are reaping no benefits until Fionn finally snaps.

Requested: yes!!

It was 2:37 a.m. and you had been trying to sleep for hours now. You'd tossed and turned, adjusted your blankets, and flipped your pillows to the cool side so often that there was no longer any sides left to offer cool relief to your face. You reached for your phone blindly, wrapping your fingers around the familiar shape and squinting as the light bore shamelessly into your eyes. You sat up, beginning to scroll through your notifications.

There was nothing from Fionn. Usually, Fionn messaged you at least a few times a day. Since the morning after Harry's party, all you'd received was dead, heavy silence.

You couldn't help but wonder what you had done to deserve the silent treatment. You weren't the one that had confessed you wanted more than a friendship and then acted like it never happened. You didn't know what you could possibly text to bridge the widening gap between you. Not knowing what came over you, all your inhibitions suddenly fled your body, and you pressed the familiar call button that was next to Fionn's name in his contact.

The phone rang agonizingly slow, the tone seeming to mock you before suddenly the line connected and you felt your breath catch in your throat when Fionn's voice wafted from your phone speakers to your ears. "Heyy, YN, 'm s' glad ya called- thought you weren't goin' t' talk to me for a long time, because of what I said the other night- when I said I wanted to make love to ya-" He was drunk. You didn't know why you heart sank at the realization you weren't going to be able to have a normal conversation. You figured it had something to do with the fact that over the time you'd spent not talking to Fionn, you'd had time to reflect and realize that you probably (definitely) liked your friend as more than a friend. The phone was snatched away from Fionn before you had a chance to say anything at all, now Harry's voice filled the void, straining to talk over the loud background noises, country music and loud talking, the sound of shuffling feet and glasses clinking all at once like a chaotic symphony. "Hi, love," "Hey, Harry, you guys partying hard?" You were teasing but part of you was a little tender at not being invited out like you normally were. "He dragged us out to some shit country bar, and now he's drunk off his ass. He's been miserable, YN, the only thing he's consumed since he dropped you off at home is vodka-" "Excuse me, I've been doing shots, Har, don't make me sound effeminate," you could hear Fionn yelling in the background and some fumbling over the phone, Harry scolding Fionn and refusing to let him embarrass himself on the phone. Harry said something else about how alcohol had no tie to how masculine anyone was, and you had to smile at your friend, glad he was there to look after your friend- well, friend and crush, and love interest, you figured.

"He's out here makin' a fool 'f 'himself, says 'e can't go home 'cause everything there reminds 'im of ya," You sighed. "Why won't he just tell me how he feels, or at least what he's thinking, then? Until now I had no idea he even remembered hitting on me drunk at that party, or if he really felt that way," Harry paused, you could hear him telling Fionn to get off of something or other before he got hurt and you could only imagine the shenanigans that he was getting into. Maybe he was flirting with other girls just like he'd flirted with you. You tried to banish the thought because even thinking about Fionn hitting on other girls when you were just starting to think of him as more than a friend made you queasy. "Love, he's crying again, do you want to talk to him? I can't get him to come down from the table and the bartenders here are getting rather annoyed with him," you agreed quietly, and heard a brief moment with no voices, before Fionns voice flooded your senses. "Harry says I've got to get down, I don't want to get down- I just want to be high," with that your friend giggled and you hated to have to be the voice of reason that would shut down his drunken fun. You could hear in his voice that he had indeed been crying at least a little bit and you hated the thought of your best friend crying on your account. "Are you okay, Finn?" He replied quickly with no inhibitions:

"I like it when you call me Finn, makes me feel special, I like it when you call me love, too, you only call me nice names like that when we're drunk, though," he spoke into the phone, you could hear Harry coaxing him to do something in the background. "Alright, love, just listen to Harry and let him get you home safe, okay?" He whined your name and you could nearly see him throwing his head back, always one for the dramatics. "But I want to sleep with you again, my bed feels like shit without you, that's why I'm out s' late, I can't sleep anymore, and I look like a damn lightweight out 'ere b'cause I can't eat and I can't talk t' ye because I'm too nervous around you when 'm sober nowadays," his long, run-on sentence had you feeling slightly jarred, yet warm at the same time. "Finn, you don't mean that you're just drunk, let Harry get you a snack when you get home and you'll sleep like a baby-" "No, YN, you're not listenin' t' me! I fucking love you, YN, and I can't even talk t' you anymore because I can't keep secrets from you and all I do is mope around and I'm only happy after I've had some shots and I can stop pretending not to be in love with you-"

You could hear his voice growing slightly frantic and you rushed to calm him down in a soothing voice. "Finn, can you please tell me this when you're sober, I think I like you but-" "Ya think? YN I just told ye that I'm in goddamn love with ye- and ya can't even tell me ye flat out like me?" The line went completely dead before you could even get a syllable out of your mouth, the monotone noise haunting your ears.

Unable to sleep, Fionn raced through your mind faster than ever before, his broken voice, his drunken giggles, his confession of being in love with you and his heartbroken tone after you tried to tell him how you felt. You tried and tried to send him a text that would convey how you felt but nothing you typed felt good enough so you settled for texting Harry, who you correctly assumed was with Fionn still. You asked how he was and Harry replied that your mutual friend would be fine besides a hangover and bruised pride. You got up the nerve to ask if Harry believed Fionn's feelings were genuine, or if he was just allowing the alcohol to create an illusion. Harry replied that he thought you should trust your feelings, and that things really couldn't get much worse then they were now. Harry then reported that Fionn had now locked himself in Harry's bathroom to cry. The two of you agreed over text to call it a night and you found yourself finally falling asleep as the sun was coming up. When you finally awoke it was mid-day and you only had a few texts, thankfully among those in your inbox sat one from Harry, as well as one from Fionn. +Fionn: so I guess we should probably talk about whatever this is before I get alcohol poisoning +Harry: TALK TO HIM!!!!!!! HE LIKES YOU!!!!!!!! JUST TELL HIM HOW YOU FEEL!!!!!!!! GOOD LUCK!!!!

You responded an eye rolling emoji to Harry's, knowing it was definitely the easier of the two messages to answer. You then shuffled around your phone to text Finn back. You created and deleted multiple drafts before finally sending one. +YN: yeah that might be good, the doctors will not view your drinking habits as kindly as a bartender... +Fionn: sorry for hanging up on you last night all of a sudden I guess I'm just turning into more and more of a messy drunk, as you say +YN: it's okay, are you free today? We could talk over hangover food? +Fionn: that sounds amazing, I'll be over with drive thru food if you want to get take-out delivered to yours?? +YN: I'll see you soon then, drive safe!!! +Fionn: anything for you, see you soon YN You'd thought you were ready for Fionn to walk through your door, you'd never cared how you looked in front of Fionn before and you couldn't fathom why all of a sudden you would care even slightly more now. You put on a cute pair of sweats and made yourself look as though you'd slept soundly though the previous night even though both you and Fionn knew neither of you had. Fionn had had a key to your apartment for as long as you'd had one, he almost contemplated moving in with you but had decided against it at the time. Now thinking back on it you wondered if he'd had feelings for you way back then. You shouldn't have jumped in surprise when your door gently swung open with the rustling of plastic bags, you were used to Fionn coming in this way, it happened at least once a week when Fionn wasn't out working on some project. Fionn noticed and cringed slightly, but pretended he didn't, looking down to take off his shoes while trying to balance the weight of the plastic shopping bags on his arms. "Oh, here, let me help, I can grab some-"

You hopped up quickly from the couch and over the back of it to get to Fionn. The second your hand touched his arm, you both suddenly stopped what you were doing for just a millisecond, distracted by the obvious feelings you both got from being in contact, a product of the long time apart paired with the tension between you. The pause wasn't long, just long enough for Fionn's voice to halt in the middle of his sentence. "Oh no I've got-" He trailed off. You both looked up at each other from what you were doing, and Fionn hung his head, lifting up one arm with the least amount of groceries and using his hand to comb back his hair firmly. He continued to talk, your arms falling limply at your sides. "I've really fucked things up, 'aven't I?" He exhaled heavily and you were quick to insist that he hadn't, but you knew your voice sounded weak and you weren't even sure of your own words. You didn't believe Fionn had ruined everything, but you knew things couldn't go back to being just the way they were before and for a moment that terrified you before you reminded yourself that you wanted things to change. Fionn had made you aware of your feelings for him unknowingly, and now you had to find the courage to tell him. "No, I mean things are different now- we're being all weird, trying to act like I didn't tell you that I loved you last night drunk over the phone, and that a few nights before I didn't hit on you, fuck, YN, I'm sorry-" You tried to catch a break in his words to speak your mind but Fionn shook his head desperately. "No, YN, please let me say this while I have the nerve. I know you don't feel the same way, I just got a little sore over it for some reason and you know me, I can't keep anything in for shit with you- especially not when I'm drunk. You have every right not to want to be friends anymore, you don't have to have me over and I can give you back my key and-" "Finn, shut up," you couldn't help but see him for a moment the way that you did before any of the events leading to this moment had even begun. You saw your friend looking tired and defeated and you hated it. You didn't know how to possibly make it better instantly so you just hugged him, your arms wrapping around his neck. The two of you were no strangers to this position and it felt more natural than anything else between the two of you in the last few days. "Love, just stop for a minuet, okay," you spoke softly Fionn was terrified that this was some kind of goodbye. Within a second, all of the bags were on the floor and Fionn's arms were wrapped around you. "You only call me that when-" He started to speak but you only hugged him tighter, it was effective in getting him to halt his seemingly constant stream of words. "Finn, I've been wanting to call you love when we were both sober for longer than I even knew. I'm not mad, I don't want you to leave," "But last night-" "Fuck last night, I would have told you how I felt, I was just scared it was the drinks talking again but I talked to Harry and I thought about it and damn it, Finn, I think I love you," Fionn had never, ever thought he'd hear those beautiful words fall from your mouth, at least not directed at him. He felt as though he was in some sort of fever dream and even if he was, he'd rather sleep forever than ever leave this moment. Now things were moving at lightning speed and neither of you seemed to care.

"Finn, I don't want you to give me the key back, I want you to stay as long as you can because I've missed you like crazy," And with that Fionn released you slightly from his grip, his hands hanging on your hips, your own remaining around his neck. "Can I kiss you? Is it too soon, you can say n-" and with that you brought your hands to either sides of his face and you kissed him. It took him no time at all to respond and neither of you pulled away until you were in need of air with butterflies in your stomachs and your lips feeling purely electric.

"I love you, YN, I have for such a long time, told Harry that last night while I was cryin' like a baby, he told me I'd better tell you that, I'm so fuckin' glad I did," "Me too, my love," And that was that. The two of you broke apart and began to set up your evening as always, but this time it felt better than ever. Little did either of you know, Harry figured this had happened and was doing a victory lap around his apartment at his success as matchmaker.

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unu-nunu-art · 8 years

Text

idk what to call it

Error sighed as he walked into his and inks shared little home. “ink I’m back” he yelled, hearing his own voice echo out through the windows into the void, but strangely there was no response.

Error crocked a brow “ink?” he yelled again, finding it a bit weird that the other skeleton wasn’t home right now. “must have run into some friends of his” error murmured to himself, yawning and running a hand over his face.

He was tired and just wanted to laze around. So badly that he didn’t see his colourful boyfriend giggling behind the doorframe. Stretching his arms above his head error slowly moved to the living room looking around in the hopes of seeing ink sleeping on the couch, but at last ink was still nowhere in his sight.

Ink chuckled a little and sneaked after error trying his hardest not to make a noise. As he cached sight of error again he sneaked a bit closer and quickly hiding behind the couch as error turned around and walked over to an little basket in the corner of the room, the place where he kept his glasses and knitting stuff.

With error distracted ink got closer and closer until he was right behind the other skeleton. An smirk appeared on his face as he reached out his arms in a grabbing stands, ready to attack. He chuckled again making error perk up and turn around. “ink are you th..” error didn’t get to finish his sentence as ink swooped him up in the air yelling “HUG ATTACK” into errors ears (?) smiling brightly.

Error keened loudly as ink started swaying him around a bit, giggling and squeezing him tightly, error didn’t know what to think of this, this was to sudden he wasn’t used to this. his eyes filled themselves up with error sighs making him blind to the world around him “i-iNk puT-T me D-Down” he said glitching taking over his voice.

Ink stopped swinging noticing the glitchy words “sorry, sorry” he mumbled quickly setting error down on his own feet and letting him go. “are you oke there pal?” ink said with a bit of worry in his voice.

Error, who for a matter of fact was still blind started to blindly (get it?) feel around him as he was trying to get a hold of something, anything. Seeing this ink gently took hold of errors hand. “was that a bit sudden for you?” he asked trying to keep voice a bit low.

Error tried to smile a bit “maybe a bit” he squeezed inks hand a lightly, trying to get some grounding as if he was making sure ink was really there “you got me, you got me good I’ll give you that” he said a smirk taking over his face.

Ink giggled “do I get a victory prize?” ink spoke, wiggling his brow bones (logic isn’t a thing here) a bit, to which the still blinded error was unaware to.

Error blinked a few times trying to clear out the error sighs in his eyes “victory prize?” he asked the error sighs starting to fade a bit “What do you want then” ink smiled softly “I think I know something”

Ink to a hold of errors other hand making error turn to face him “just hold still please” ink said slowly leaning in close. error was about to ask why until he felt a soft breath ghosting over his teeth. Error blinked a few more times finally freeing his eyes from the error sighs giving him the ability to see once more.

“ink” error whispered softly looking straight (or gay bedum tsss….. I’ll let myself out) into inks eyes. Ink smiled softly getting a bit closer “may I?” ink whispered letting another breath travel over error teeth.

Error didn’t know how to answer he was to enchanted by inks eyes and how they were full of gently affection, so he just nodded.

Ink leaned forwards the last bit gently pressing his teeth to errors is a sweet skeleton kiss. Error hummed into the kiss and let his eyes slide shut and giving inks hands a squeeze. After a minute ink pulled back slowly and smiled. “was that better?”

Error said nothing for a while before letting out a small laugh “yeah that was nice” ink gave a little chuckle himself and leaned his head onto errors shoulder sighing softly.

“you’re touchy today” error said with a smile, leaning his head against inks. ink only hummed nuzzling a bit into errors shoulder “and you’re warm” he said into the others shoulder. Error blushed at the words and looked away his cheeks tinted yellow. Ink laughed softly and nuzzled his head into errors neck.

“why do I put up with you?” error asked, ink only smiled and pulled back to look error in the eye “because you love me” error pouted “sadly I do” ink giggled “I love you to”

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welp i told you i suck at writing

sorry it took so long i was a bit busy and lazy the last few days but yeah have a bit of errorink floof

ps: it’s based of the draw where ink is picking error up and a draw were they smooths

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Submitted by idk-likesomeone

Unu says: OMG, this is super cute! I was so happy to find this in my inbox, I enjoyed readin this and I can absolutely see these two interact like this. Thank you, I’m so glad I inspired you this much - I honestly wish I could draw this, it’s so perfect! <3

#submission #fanfiction #error x ink #ink x error #errorink #inkerror #art4unu

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