#also fuck hello sunshine i hope they get nothing but rain and clouds

[mzannthropy]

For Claflin, it was partially his own divorce that still loomed over him, but also the fact that star-crossed love was not an unfamiliar concept. “I have experienced unrequited love, the chasing and the inability of making certain decisions in certain moments,” he says. “There were so many conversations between Billy and Camila (Camila Morrone), or Billy and Daisy (Riley Keough), that I have experienced firsthand or seen friends go through.” 

Claflin equates Billy’s attraction toward Daisy to addiction, not unlike the character being drawn to drugs and alcohol. “Every single day, every aspect of your being wants to be doing the one thing that you are forcing yourself not to do,” he says. “That is what his relationship with Daisy is: He has to tell himself no every single day.” Also, unlike his calm wife, Camila, mercurial Daisy feels to Billy like looking in a mirror. “The two of them are so similar and egotistical,” says Claflin. “Daisy frustrates him and angers him. She tests him. He enjoys the fact that he’s challenged at every turn, that there’s someone who is still teaching him about himself.” 

Though the character’s restraint feels excruciating, Claflin admires the determination not to give in to what both Billy and the audience want so badly. “He is dedicated to trying to do the right thing,” says Claflin. “He is genuinely in love with both women but can only be with one. There’s something so relatable about him and his struggle, wanting two things and trying to hurt as few people as possible.” 

#sam claflin #samblogging #billy dunne #'what the audience wants' lol not me #but then. i'm not the audience #honestly i wouldn't give a single fuck if sam wasn't in it #but yeah #i listened to fleetwood mac the other day and it struck me that #gold dust woman might be a song about how billy feels about daisy #thing is. there are multiple types of love #i don't think i've seen anyone mention it (someone might have but i've not seen it) #so the love he has for c is different from the love he has for d #hopefully one day i will stop hating that ship so much that i'll be at least able to accept that #anyway. the writing still sucked i hope their pens break and drafts get deleted #also fuck hello sunshine i hope they get nothing but rain and clouds #mypost

[ppersonna]

thunder - ksj | m

your voice was the soundtrack of my summer. do you know you're unlike any other? you'll always be my thunder. - thunder, boys like girls

↳ summary- you allow your best friend Jin to take you backpacking once per year.  apparently, this year’s outing would be the wettest yet.

↳ rating- explicit/18+/nsfw

↳ pairing- kim seokjin x reader

↳ word count- 6k

↳ genre- fluff, tiny angst, smut, comedy

↳ warnings- penetrative sex, unprotected sex, fingering, dirty talk, light dom!jin, light sub!reader, fucking in tents haha ha ha ha, cum play, cum eating, possessive dirty talk

↳ a/n- wow hello! its been so long since i uploaded a fic i almost forgot how to do it! i would like to give you a fic that i’ve had in my storage since march, and one i’m excited to finally finish. i’d be nowhere without @taetaewonderland​ @xjoonchildx​ @ladyartemesia​ for hyping me up to post it in the first place.  thank u to @shadowsremedy​ for being my fav beta ily ily ily. enjoy my babes! pls feel free to message me!

 “Kim Seokjin, if you got us lost, I’m going to murder you,” you seethed as your pulled your booted foot out of a slick puddle of mud. 

“I didn’t get us lost, dear. The map is wrong,” he replied coolly as he twisted the crumpled map from portrait to landscape, and back again. “I’m an excellent navigator, but when the tools I have are faulty…”. 

You grumbled, stopping your walk to sit on a fallen log. You sighed audibly at your best friend, still maneuvering in the small clearing in the forest, trying to match the map to where you were. You chanced a look at the sky as you sought to catch your breath and sate your anger. Dark, heavy clouds were forming, the kind that didn’t just indicate a sprinkle but a torrential downpour. 

“Shit, Jin. It’s going to storm soon,” you warned.  

He stopped his map seeking and glanced at the sky, frown buried deep in his face. 

Instantly, as if it never changed, he returned to his bright and cheery demeanor. 

“Well! Looks like we should work faster to make it back to camp, huh?” 

Seokjin would be excited for an unexpected kink in your plans. The boy was obsessed with “roughing it”. You agreed to one weekend with minimal hiking. Camping, in your opinion, was meant to be spent drunk around a fire eating s’mores and telling scary stories, not walking for miles through nothing but trees, mud, and probably bears.

Camping had never been your favorite hobby, and you allowed Seokjin to take you off trail backpacking once per year. The man looked forward to it, planned it several months in advance, and counted down the days until he stuffed you in his Jeep down a deserted forest highway to the campsite. 

Only, Jin never took the “minimal hiking” thing too seriously. 

“It’s an easy hike,” he had promised you that morning as you set up camp. “More of a stroll than anything.” 

You kicked at the dirt beneath you now, upset you had listened to the dark-haired man’s empty promises. 

“How about we just go back the way we came from?” You suggested as you stood up and brushed the dirt off your backside from the log. 

“Nonsense,” he sniffed. “I’ve got it right here. We can take this trail,” he gestured at a clearing through the trees, “for about a mile, turn left at the open valley, and we’ll be back at camp two miles after that!”  He proclaimed his findings as if it were so easy, so obvious. 

“Great, three miles of hiking. After we’ve already done four, at least.”

“Yes, my ever-positive sunshine, you should be happy I found us a shortcut.” He patted your head and smiled at you as he adjusted your backpack strap that was sliding off your shoulders. He lingered, eyes on you and your lips for just a fraction too long, before he turned and began leading you through the forest. 

Your heart was racing, unrelated to the elevation or the hike. 

You gave in so easily to Jin not because he was your best friend since childhood, but also because he was the man you were hopelessly in love with. 

You’d been smitten with the older boy since your senior year of high school, when he jokingly asked you to prom and you realized you wanted Seokjin courting you to be a regular occurrence. 

You stayed by his side through it all, all girlfriends and breakups. It hurt to watch him with another, but maintaining his friendship was more important than anything else and you weren’t about to lose him to a crush that you could easily just avoid. 

Seokjin was attached to your hip, a fact your friends never let you live down. They were relentless in encouraging you two to be alone, and for you to admit your feelings to him. They told you they were sure he would reciprocate it.  

Unbeknownst to them, you had admitted it. 

You and Jin once got messy drunk on the floor of your apartment, where you slithered up into his lap and whispered your secret devotion to your best friend. Seokjin merely laughed and kissed your nose. You were so embarrassed and rejected you never brought it up again. Best to leave it be, rather than bring a 15 year friendship to a screeching halt. 

So—you valiantly stood by him as his best friend and confidante. You were there when he excitedly told you about his new girlfriend, or when he called you crying over their breakup. Your heart twinged at both; you wanted to be the reason for his excitement and the balm to his wounded heart. 

You allowed Seokjin to take you on all his wild adventures. Like now—traipsing through the forest with no direction in sight, because you would have done nearly anything for the boy.

A crack of thunder shook you from your thoughts and you jumped at the sudden sound. 

“Ah, so cute,” he smiled at you, “still afraid of thunder?”

You blushed and pouted. “It just surprised me, is all.”

He smirked as if to say he didn’t believe you and nodded. “We should get a move on, don’t want to get caught in the rain.” 

You shivered at the thought. It was already cool in the forest; the trees providing enough coverage it locked out any sun, if there had been any. You quickly moved in step behind your best friend. It only took a few minutes of silence before the telltale pitter patter of droplets on leaves began. A fat raindrop landed on your forehead. 

“Fuck,” you groaned. “It’s starting.”  

“I know,” Jin suddenly looked worried, his confident demeanor cracking. He looked back at you and tightened the straps on his backpack. 

“Let’s run?”

You were powerless to deny any request from him. Plus, you didn’t really feel like getting drenched. 

You adjusted your own backpack and took off, running through the quickly dampening forest beside Seokjin. 

The rain came in a downpour. It hit you hard, blurring your vision. Seokjin slipped his hand into yours, not wanting to lose you in the storm. You pushed your legs in time with his, jumping around fell logs and rocks and skipping large puddles. 

You were drenched as Seokjin pulled you into a makeshift canopy of rocks, a momentary pause from the storm to catch your breath. Your hair was soaking wet, as if freshly showered. Seokjin’s hair stuck to his face, and you smiled as he looked at you with concern. It only took a moment until you were both bursting with laughter, finding humor at the moment. 

It was something you loved about Seokjin. He always knew how to make you laugh in times it seemed impossible. 

“This sucks,” you spoke through your joyful laughter.  He nodded in agreement. 

“I think we’re almost back. We need to turn soon, and then we’ve got about two more miles. You ready?”

You agreed and pushed back the slick hair in your eyes, before doing the same for him. His eyes sparkled. You didn’t know what it meant. 

In an instant, you were running again. The backpack bounced against your back and rain pounded your body. The things you did for Kim Seokjin. You were whipped, and you knew it. 

The trail seemed like it went on forever. You both became so tired of running that you slowed and trudged slowly through mud as rain pelted you, accepting your fate of soaking to the bone. You were sure you had never been this drenched in your life.  Your clothes were stuck to your body and dripping down into your shoes and socks. Your teeth chattered in the breeze—it felt as if the wind whipped right through you.  The sky rumbled again, as if warning you to hurry lest it dump more rain on you.

Seokjin was always the caring companion. He rubbed your shoulders and arms to warm them up and promised a roaring fire. You hated how much it made your heart burst.

You were very much looking forward to your one-man tent, stocked with a sleeping bag and blankets. You could strip down and dry off and slip into the warmth of your own personal nest. 

Seokjin waxed poetic about his own spacious tent—a lofty family sized one, and how he made sure he brought his sleeping bag along with 8 thick blankets, and how he couldn’t wait to snuggle down into his own.  Seokjin was the picture of preparedness. He even kept a locking box full of snacks in his tent because the boy was a foodie and couldn’t survive without the treats. It came in handy. 

“What would you do if we were stuck out here forever?” You posed to your best friend, curious about his response and desperate to pass the time as you hiked. 

“Well,” he thought aloud. “I’d miss the guys. But I’d be happy to be stuck out here with you.”  

Your cheeks flushed. 

“You wouldn’t miss, ah—what’s her name? Miya?” 

Seokjin shrugged. “She’s fun. She’s not you, though.”

You couldn’t help but grumble internally. She was good enough to date, and you weren’t. She was different in some respect. 

“Are things not going well with her?” You asked, secretly hoping they weren’t.

“It’s fine. She’s nice and all,” he sighed.  “Just, there’s no spark there, you know?”  

You knew all too well. Any man you tried to date paled compared to your best friend, and the fireworks behind your every heartbeat when you were near him.

“What about you?” He was peering into your eyes and into what felt like your soul. “You and Jungkook sure seem cozy.” His tone sounded annoyed, sarcastic even.

You couldn’t help but bark a laugh. 

“Oh god, no,” you shook your soggy head.  “Not my type. We’re good friends and that’s it. Plus, I’m sure he’s into Jimin.”

Seokjin shrugged again. “You sit on his lap and cuddle up to him all the time…”

“Are you jealous?” You smirked, nudging the man.  Please, god, please be jealous.

“N-No!” He was sharp. “I’m not.”

Ouch.

You remained silent, eyes downcast at your muddy boots as you walked alongside the man.

“Sorry,” he mumbled after a beat of silence. 

“Don’t worry about it, Seokjin. I got it—loud and clear.”

Seokjin looked hurt, a wave of dissatisfaction crossing his features. He wanted to say something, mouth opening to continue his apology. You ignored it wholly. He knew your feelings. There was no way he couldn’t remember that night. You pushed ahead of the man, walking in front of him to avoid his pained gaze and likely hurried apology.  

The light of day was leaving. Everything around you was steadily getting darker, and the rain showed no sign of giving up. You silently begged to be back to the safety of your camp soon, lest you become walking mountain lion bait.

“There’s camp!” Seokjin finally pointed and ran through the rain ahead of you.

“Oh thank fuck,” you sighed, feeling as if it lifted a weight from your shoulders. You couldn’t wait to strip out of your soaking clothes and slither into your blankets.

“Oh shit,” Seokjin whispered, stopping where he stood.  You followed his gaze, concerned about what stopped the boy so quickly.   

Your tent was ripped open, the insides of it exposed to the wind and rain. Everything you owned was soaking wet. You had set it up in a clearing with not too many trees above it, and it appeared the lack of protection against the wind and rain tore the poor fabric to shreds.

A worn-out and distraught sob left your lips.

“No!”  

You ran to the tent and nearly cried. Fortunately, beyond just being soaking wet and useless for the night, everything was intact. There was only no warmth to be had. No warm clothes to change into. Nothing.  

“What the fuck am I going to do?!” 

Seokjin placed a hand on your shoulder.  

“You can share with me?” He sounded hopeful. “We can hang your clothes to dry and when the storm passes, we can build a fire and let your tent air out.  But you should probably sleep in my tent tonight.” 

You bit your lip. You had slept with Seokjin in more beds than you could count, always being forced to share a bed as the designated ‘best friends who don’t care’.  And it was never easy for you. You always woke up with the delicious scent of his cologne and shampoo, and your body curled around his. His hardness would always be pressed up against you, and it took all you had not to wrap your mouth around it to wake him up.

“Yeah, thanks Seokjin,” you breathed. “I’m fucking freezing. And I’m tired. I just want to get some sleep.”

Seokjin slipped his backpack off and pulled yours off your frame. He hung them from a sturdy branch, protected by layers of trees overhead, to let them dry.  

“I have some towels in my tent, go on in. You can get dry and hand me your wet clothes to hang. Then you can get in the blankets and I’ll make us something to eat.”

You blushed. Seokjin hadn’t seen you fully naked, ever; at least not since you were toddlers.

Slipping into his blankets while stark nude would be a dream. It was something you fantasized about more than you’d care to admit. But, in the current conditions, being naked and clammy in the blankets next to your best friend who didn’t return any feelings for you sounded more like an awkward moment waiting to happen.

If Seokjin noticed anything, he didn’t show it. He acted as if making you strip in his tent was a normal thing, nothing out of the ordinary. 

“I’ll wait out here,” he nodded dutifully. 

You slipped out of your muddy boots and socks, and into his tent. It was nice and spacious, and the blankets looked incredibly enticing. It was kind of Seokjin to let you stay with him, even kinder that he would remain soaking wet to make you something to eat. Your body felt so worn out and drained, and you were sure he did too. 

You peeled the wet clothing off of you, every bit, before sticking your head out the door and handing him the clothes.  

“Don’t worry about food, okay? You should get dry too.”  

He wrinkled his forehead. 

“You sure?” 

You bit your lip and nodded. 

“I’m sure. Plus, we have your snacks.”

“Ah, good thinking,” he shot his finger guns at you. “I’ll be there in a minute, then. Hand me a towel and I’ll get undressed out here.”

You shyly handed him a towel, now very aware that you and Seokjin would be in the same tent—naked. The thought thrilled you as much as it scared you. 

It didn’t take long to burrow yourself into his freshly made bed roll, sliding into the neat layers. Seokjin was nearly military in his routine and order.  Everything was always tucked, pressed, and laid down perfectly. 

Your body wracked with shivers and chills—the blankets and sleeping bag were cold from the ambient air outside. You folded yourself together in a fetal position to maintain some warmth. It felt good to lie down on the soft bed mat, but the blankets were doing nothing to provide warmth. 

The sound of the zipper opening the front door flap of the tent made you shake harder. You could feel the wind blow through the opening now. The sound of the storm was loud, and you were grateful for the heavy tarp covering Seokjin’s tent. It provided some respite from the wind and kept all water off the tent. At least Seokjin had been smart in his setup. You ignored the man’s suggestions to set up better, and you were fully regretting it now.

Seokjin had the towel wrapped around his waist and stepped about the tent easily. He dabbed at his upper body with a smaller towel from his suitcase and rubbed his hair dry. The normally perfectly coiffed head was now static-y and sticking up wildly. It would have made you laugh if you weren’t so cold. 

Seokjin moved around you and slid into the blankets, leaving a large space between you, before he threw the towel around his waist onto the floor. He was naked now; you noted internally. You both were. A shiver ran down your spine, unrelated to the relentless chill.

It was silent. All you could hear was the beating of the rain on the tarp and your teeth chattering as you shivered. 

Seokjin stole a look at you, finally, and noticed your position, holding yourself to build warmth. 

“Shit, are you okay?” He asked. 

“I’m j-j-just col-l-ld,” you whispered. “And t-t-tired.”

Seokjin didn’t reply, but you heard the scratching sound of a moving sleeping bag and rustling of blankets and suddenly felt a very warm, very naked body pressed against you. It was blissful, and you moaned out loud at the feel of him spooning you. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. You didn’t know what for, and couldn’t bring yourself to reply. 

You burrowed yourself down into his warmth and felt his arms wrap around you, securing you against him. He radiated heat. He felt like heaven. Your eyes closed—he had you feeling like you had stepped into a delicious sauna.

Seokjin’s muscular arms hadn’t moved an inch since they wrapped around you, but now his hands slowly rubbed at your torso, warming you everywhere his hand dragged. It felt electrifying and your body relaxed easily under his delicate fingertips. 

It started out innocent, rubbing along your stomach and side to warm you further. But his hand began straying north, reaching the crest of your breasts. Your breath hitched as he rubbed over the cold swells. Your nipples were hard from the chill and pebbled even further with the touch of his hands. It made a gasp stick in your throat.

His lips touched your neck, lightly. They were warm too. It seemed his entire body was twenty degrees warmer than your own, and every touch felt like a raging flame. His hands continued rubbing along your breasts as he laved and sucked.

 at the column of your throat.  

As instantly as it began, Seokjin stopped. His hands hovered above your breasts. 

He pressed kisses to your neck and face. “We should sleep, babe,” he sighed.  

You wanted to protest, to push him further, to take care of what he started, but you couldn’t find the energy. Seokjin’s warmth matched with the comfort of his bedroll, and the soothing rise and fall of his breath was lulling you into sleep. Even though it was still early evening, the hike and the run back to safety took it all out of you.  

Seokjin’s arms felt like safety. He secured them around you, slipping just underneath your breasts where his thumb could trace alongside the bottom as you easily succumbed to sleep.

It was still dark when you woke.  

The rain was still coming down, light this time. It sounded relaxing, soothing. Seokjin was still spooning you, sleeping soundly behind you. You twisted in his grasp to gaze at him. 

His hair was dry now, sticking out randomly about his pillow. You were sure if he saw it he’d panic, normally so precise with his looks. He looked so peaceful when he was asleep, none of his chaotic energy and dramatic charisma. 

You loved every facet of Seokjin. You loved the flamboyance, the sensitivity, the deep compassion for his friends.  

You turned around, as gently and quietly as you could, and pressed a hand to his cheek—rubbing at the warm and soft flesh. He sighed softly in his sleep, moving against his pillow. An eye cracked open, and he stared at you. 

“Why are you awake?” He whispered, his voice gentle. “It’s still dark.” 

He was confused, and the look that graced his features was adorable. You wanted to photograph it and frame it, make it the lock screen of your phone. 

You shook your head. 

“Don’t know.”

Seokjin’s hand rubbed at your shoulder, then up to your face. He tucked your hair behind your ear and smiled at you. 

“You look so cute in the moonlight.”

You closed your eyes, letting his compliment wash over you. You couldn’t find the words to reply. You let him continue caressing your cheek, feeling as if you were living a fantasy where Seokjin touched you like a lover. 

You were so close to him, chest pressing against his own. Something about the quiet storm, the dark tent, had you disregarding any embarrassment you should have felt pressing your naked tits to the man's chest, but the spell of the forest had you pressing closer. Your lips were inches apart, and you could feel his breath on your lips. 

The feel of Seokjin’s lips pressing against yours was light, but felt as if all the fireworks in the world exploded behind your eyes and within your belly. It started sweet, gentle. You kissed him like you always wanted to, full of unrequited love and unwavering desire. Your arms slithered around his neck, pulling him even closer against you.  

The kiss turned deeper, mouths opening to allow the passage of tongues. He sought into your mouth, caressing yours with his own, pouring what felt like his very spirit into you. His hand left your back and slid up your sides to press against your breast. 

“Seokjin,” you murmured, feeling your brain swirl headily. “Feels good.”

He didn’t reply, only kept kissing at your neck and pinching gently at your hardened nipples. It made you cry out, gaping at the slight pain.

“If you want me to stop, tell me.” 

His words were gentle. His hands stilled, stopping all ministrations against you.

Your breath was hard and shaky, matching the erratic beat of your heart in your ribcage. Your unrequited crush of years was now roaming your body, touching you as a lover rather than a friend.

“Please, don’t stop.”

He was on you again, now bloodthirsty for any part of your skin to touch. He tugged at your nipples, suckled up your neck to kiss and lick at the shell of your ears.  You pressed against him, gasping at the feel of his now stiff cock. He circled his hips, relishing in the feel of you against him. You wondered how he would feel inside you. He was thick and long—it would be a stretch, and a most delicious and welcome one.

He pressed you back against the pillow, hovering over your body as he kissed down your neck and sucked at the pressure points there. A pleasured sigh passed through your open lips, reveling in the feel of him on your skin. It was something you dreamed about often. It felt unreal to finally have it. 

You were on display for him, and his eyes raked over you as if you were a Dalí in the Louvre. His hands slid up to cup your breasts, and you tilted your head back to moan. You didn’t care at all about how you looked, how this might be awkward in the next few hours. You cared only about feeling Seokjin within you, getting him off, succumbing to your own pleasure wrought by his hands and his cock.

“Fuck, babe,” he sighed. “Wanted this for a while.”

“Me too,” you gasped as he slid a finger down to your core, circling faintly over your slick folds.

“Have you?”

“Seokjin, I’ve been in love with you since high school.”

Seokjin closed his eyes and smiled, breathing through his nose in contentment.

“You weren’t just saying that when you were drunk then.”

You shook your head, and Seokjin opened his eyes to peer at you.

“No, Seokjin,” you whispered needily, his finger still so torturously close to your clit. “I meant it.”

He leaned down with a smile and planted gentle kisses on your cheeks, adoring and gentle.  

“I’ve been in love with you too. I thought you were just drunk. I never acted on it because I didn’t want to get my heart broken.”

He pulled up and allowed his free hand to cup your cheek.

“I’m going to fuck you now, okay?” He asked. “Like, really fucking hard. You good with that?”

You couldn’t help but laugh. A deep, hearty chuckle passed between both of you, enamored with each other and the situation of being naked and intertwined together, the warmth of your matched confessions surrounding you.  

“Fuck me, please,” you begged.

And Seokjin would be loath to deny you.

His teasing finger finally slid into your core, fucking into you with ease from your slick walls.  You gasped at the welcome intrusion, eyes fluttering closed as he began a slight pace and watched the way you fell apart.

“So pretty,” he whispered. “So fucking pretty.”

He slipped another finger in, scissoring them open as he worked at you.  Your legs trembled, and it made the older man smirk.  

“Look at you,” he praised. “So easily turned into a *gushing* puddle for me.”

You nodded pathetically, back arching as he added yet another finger and pressed at the spot inside you that had your mind spinning and thoughts erasing.

“Oh—God, Jin!”

As much as Jin wanted to see you get off around his fingers, he was desperate for more. You were finally all his—something he’s wanted since he could remember. All he’s wanted was for you to be his.

He pulled his fingers from inside you and smiled as they came out slicked up with your own essence.  He ensured you made eye contact with him, then popped them into his mouth one-by-one, to suck them clean.

It made your mouth nearly fall to the floor as you watched him suck his fingers clean of you. Your body trembled with a need you hadn’t felt before. It was stronger than anything you’d felt before. It was unadulterated desire for Seokjin.

“Mm,” he sighed happily as he pulled the final digit from his mouth. “Delicious, as I thought.”

“Oh, my god,” you gaped. “Jin…,”

The man merely shook his head and smiled, crowding you down and hovering over your lips.

“You’re mine now, you got that?” 

His eyes tracked yours, watching your every movement. It took you a moment to swallow your nerves, to regain any ounce of confidence.

“I’ve always been yours, Seokjin.”

He held you down, watching you with a gleam of wonder in his eye, before surging forward and planting his lips onto yours. His tongue dove in instantly, seeking solace in the warmth of your mouth. Allowing him passage was easy, almost natural. Jin’s tongue swirled around your own as your arms slithered around his neck to bring him closer. Kissing Jin felt like everything you’d imagine it would be, and yet like nothing you could have even dreamed.

Jin didn’t just kiss you—he consumed you. He lapped his tongue into your mouth like he couldn’t get close enough to you. His chest pressed against your body and he groaned into your mouth at the feeling of your perky breasts pushing into his own broad chest.

“Baby,” he whispered as he pulled away. 

It sounded like a dream—the pet name fell from Jin’s lips so easily, as if it were always meant to be spoken to you.

“You’ve always been the one I wanted,” he breathed as he pressed his lips down your neck. “Always the girl I wanted and could never have.”

“Jin,” you gasped as your fingers carded through his hair. “Jin, you’ve always had me.”

He lifted his head and peered deep into your eyes again, so deep it felt like he was glimpsing into your soul.

“I only want you. No one else.”

It knocked you breathless, and it took a moment for you to refill your lungs before nodding.  

“I’m all yours.”

There was acknowledgement in both your admissions. An understanding that there was no more separation of you, and of Jin. That after tonight, it would be a partnership, and the beginnings of something more, something you’ve only dreamt of with the older man.

“Mine,” he whispered, before pressing his lips back to yours.

The kiss was sweet, nearly cloyingly sweet, as his hands cupped your face. He kissed you with every intention, every desperate plea he’s held in his heart for you.

Jin’s length pressed against you—his hips rutting minutely as he kissed you.

“Jin,” you gasped as you pulled away from his lip locked embrace. “Please, I need you.”

Jin’s charming smile spread across his lips, blooming your heart along with it.

“As you wish,” he whispered as he pressed in for another soft kiss..

Instantly, Jin flipped around and switched positions, guiding you to sit atop his hips while he settled down into the mess of blankets and pillows.

“What?” He asked as he noticed your confusion at the sudden mood change, a smirk rising on his puffy lips. “You think I’m gonna let you lay back and make me do all the work?”

There he was, your Seokjin. Never able to keep a comment to himself, regardless of the situation—always working to make you laugh. It made your heart sing.

His hands slid to grip at your hips while you lifted yourself up to hover over his hardened length, lining up the tip to just graze the wetness there.

“You see what you do to me?” You asked with a coy smile. “You see how badly I want you?”

Jin bit his lip, mesmerized by the way your cunt slicked up the head of his cock, desperate to spear into you but holding back.

“Fuck—,” he breathed. “P-Prove it.”

A smirk crossed your features before you took the plunge and allowed his length to slip inside you as you sank to his hips.  The intrusion was welcome, and you gaped at the sensation of him plunging deep.

“Oh, my God!” Jin gasped as you had taken him to the hilt.  His eyes bulged for a moment before they closed in bliss.  “You feel so fucking good.”

You didn’t need to speak. The feeling of Jin’s thick length inside of you was more than enough agreement.  He felt so thick, so long, prodding at the spot inside you that had you weak and stretching you wide to make you gasp at the sizzle of pain.  After a moment of adjusting to his size, you let your hands fall to his chest as you began to slowly rise and fall and set a pace on his cock.

“Oh, fuck, baby,” he whined—eyes wide open and watching you bounce on him. “Shit, this is where you belong.”

You eagerly pinched at your nipples as your pace quickened, nodding at Jin’s encouraging words. Your mouth felt dry, and you felt unable to even vocalize your pleasure beyond your loud sighs and moans.

“Jin,” you breathed.

He nodded, assisting your pace by gripping your hips.  He tugged you down, face to face, to rest on his chest while your hips kept their quick speed of enveloping his cock in your tight heat.  He let a hand cup the side of your face, the other moving to grip your ass.

“You’re all fucking mine,” he grunted as he thrusted his cock up into you, matching the rhythm of your rise and fall. “Gonna make you feel so fucking good every day, baby.”

You nodded quickly, heartbeat rising as you quickened each pound.  Jin’s lips pressed to yours again, this time messier, hotter.  He licked into your mouth, desperate for any more of you he could consume.

“Fuck, you drive me fucking crazy,” he said, cock still thrusting deep inside you. “Let me fuck you from behind?”

You didn’t bother replying, simply removing yourself from his body and assuming the position on your hands and knees.  Jin scrambled to line up behind you, hand pumping his slick cock as he marveled at the sight of you presented for him.

“Take me, please,” you whispered, turning your head to peer at him with a desperate smile. “Fuck me until I can’t see straight.”

Jin hissed an expletive, before lining himself up in your sodden folds and plunging in without a second thought.  Your eyes widened at the new angle, gasping as you felt it hit different areas inside of you that had you squeaking with each hard thrust of his cock.

Jin’s hands gripped your ass, your hips, anywhere he could leave his brutal fingerprints.

“God, you take my cock like a fucking queen,” he gasped as the sound of skin slapping echoed around the tent. “Look at your pussy, so fucking wet for me.”

He marveled at the way his cock plunged deep inside you, then came out covered in your creamy slick.

“You gonna cum for me, baby? You gonna let me claim this pussy with my cum?”

The pleasure was overwhelming—it felt like every nerve ending was lit on fire, and you were a burning fuse about to detonate into a thousand brilliant explosions.  Each thrust of Jin’s thickness had you crying for more, moans echoing off the trees outside.  You were suddenly thankful you were in the middle of nowhere, allowing you to be loud and needy.

Jin reveled in your desperate sighs and the way your body pushed back against his to match his pace.  He knew his end was coming, knew it was going to be short-lived from the start. He’s wanted your body for as long as he could remember, and wanted you in his life as his lover, his girlfriend, more than just what he had been relegated to for so long.  

“Mm, baby, you look so good on your knees for me, fuck,” he gasped as his speed increased. “I can’t wait to make you cum on my cock every fucking day, love. This is my pussy now.”

Jin’s possession of your body made you see stars, vision blurring as your cunt tightened its grip around his cock.  Jin gasped at the grip and his hips stuttered.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he groaned. “I feel you, baby, fuck. Cum for me, angel. Let me feel this tiny little cunt milk me.”

The coil inside you was tightening, pulling tight and making you gasp and scream at the oncoming rush.  Jin’s pounding was relentless, making your entire body shake with the anticipation.  

Your hand dipped to circle at your clit, the ultimate piece to your end. 

The coil snapped, and your cunt pulsated wildly around his cock, vice-grip tight.  It felt as if you had been catapulted off into space, vision blurring and all sound indiscernible from the blood rushing in your ears.

Jin’s climax quickly overtook him at the feeling of your delicious heat gripping at his cock.  With just a few strokes inside you, his cock pulsed hot stripes of cum within you and painted your channel.  Something primal in Seokjin loved that he was within you now, a piece of him deposited inside. 

He allowed a few moments to pass to catch his breath, before slowly easing his spent cock from your dripping walls.  He groaned as he watched a bit of his seed drip out, and he was careful to collect it on his fingers.

“Come here,” he whispered as he pressed his chest to your back and lifted you upright, sitting on your knees.  He presented his fingers to your lips, dripping with your combined slick, and wrapped his free arm around your stomach.

Obediently, you opened your mouth and allowed the man to swirl his cum-coated digits in your mouth. It made your stomach erupt in butterflies, the taste of you and the man you’ve only dreamt about for years now on your tongue.

A crack of thunder shook you from your silent reverie, and Jin removed his fingers from his mouth before wrapping both arms around you and tugging you down to lie face to face on the mused sleeping bags.

“Now, aren’t you glad we did this?” He asked with a chuckle and a kiss to your nose.

You wrinkled your brow and smiled coyly.

“I would have enjoyed it more if you hadn’t gotten us lost.”

Jin pouted and huffed.

“I didn’t get us lost,” he sniffed with indignation. “The map was wrong.”

#bts smut #kim seokjin #seokjin smut #seokjin x reader #ficswithluv #kim seokjin smut #jin smut #bts fan fic #bts imagines #bts fic #bangtanarmynet

[thefanficmonster]

Take That!

Corpse Husband & Reader (Female) ft. Streamer Gang

Warnings: Mentions of Depression, Suppressed Sadness, Swearing

Genre: Platonic Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: What is a friend? Your smile through the tears. The umbrella over your head when it starts raining. The ointment to your wound. But if you wanna put it in a more literal manner, a friend is something that doesn’t have a concrete definition. It can be the person you sit next to in class or the person who’s hundreds of miles away from you and you’re connected to through a Discord call.

Requested by Anon. Hello dear! Thank you so much for your request, sorry it’s taken me so long to complete and post it but here it finally is and I hope you enjoy the read if you happen to come across the fic. Love, Vy ❤

There are those days when I wake up excited for a new day. There are also those days when the thought of playing Among Us with my friends is all that gets me out of bed. And then there are those days when not even that can get me to budge. Today is one of those days.

I’d still be in bed right now had I not needed to use the bathroom. On my way back to hide under my covers, I heard my cat’s meow from the kitchen, reminding me she needed to be fed. After tending to that task I just sort of lost will to return to bed either. Speaking truthfully, today is a will-less day. The type of day where I have no idea what to do with myself because I feel so odd and uncomfortable: heavy and bustling head, motivation below zero no matter whether I have zero tasks to tend to or a mountain high pile of work. It’s a laying on the floor and letting my mind eat away at me type of day and I can’t say I appreciate it.

The only thing I have to look forward to is the game of Among Us Corpse invited me to yesterday. Had I known I’d wake up feeling like absolute shit, I wouldn’t have accepted. I just know I’ll be a downer the whole time because I suck at covering up how I feel - my smiling masks and faux happiness don’t cut it but staying quiet is even worse because I’m typically and energetic and bubbly person, always having something to say or a comment to add to the conversation. Always looking to make people laugh.

Well, it’s hard to make people laugh when you feel like a deflated balloon.

I can’t describe the feeling any better than that - I feel empty, maybe a little sad somewhere in the mix, unmotivated. I keep these feelings to myself cause whenever I bring them up people just blow me off, saying I’m describing laziness but more dramatically. Either that or burnout which is sometimes the case, but I’m more than sure that it’s not the culprit for today. You can only blame burnout so many times.

Anyway, I make a mental note, promising myself I’m not gonna bail on my friends regardless of whether my mood gets better or worse. Who knows, maybe a gaming session with them is exactly what I need.

                                                              *  *  *

Not much has changed with my emotional state - I’ve spent a good chunk of the day surfing through TV channels and my socials with nothing else to occupy my mind but the overwhelming knowledge that I’m not feeling ok and that hyperawareness of a void that I feel but cannot describe. At one point, Corpse sent me a text to confirm I’d be participating in the gaming session and I was this close to saying no. This close to coming up with some bullshit excuse and bailing but I didn’t, thankfully. 

Here’s the thing about this drop in mood of mine - I know it’s gonna be gone by morning. It bullies me, beats and batters me for only twenty four hours - never more, never less. Like clockwork and as precise as a Swiss watch. And so fucking annoying. No matter what I do, I can’t end it prematurely and I can never wake up feeling down and unmotivated the next morning - there’s always a surge of motivation coursing through me and it drives me to be super productive as if making up for what I didn’t do the previous day when I was in the dumps.

It’s a twisted way of it showing me I’m powerless and at the mercy of a force that, despite being mine and existing within me, I’m completely unfamiliar with. It’s so fucking unfair, it’s disheartening.

“Hi everyone! Sorry I’m late.“ I greet the five people who have already gathered in the Discord call and the Among Us lobby.

Yeah, sorry I’m late, I was contemplating not showing up at all last minute

“Don’t worry about it, many people are running late as you can see.“ Rae replies reassuringly, “How’s your day? Anything spectacular happen?“

I can’t help but scoff, “Yeah sure, a TON of spectacularism in my life on the daily. From the large stack of papers I couldn’t bring myself to touch, to the dusty surfaces all over my apartment I didn’t convince myself to clean - it’s all fabulous over here.”

Fuck, that was too real

“Whoa, where’d all this sarcasm come from?“ Rae asks, sounding genuinely baffled rather than teasing, “It’s never been your strong suit.“

“Neither has unproductivity.“ Corpse, my best friend, chimes in, “Everything ok?“

Well, I admit, I should’ve known better than to have an outburst like that in front of people who have known me for a while now and can probably gauge my emotions even without me admitting to them. I truly don’t know where it came from. Hell, I didn’t even see it coming.

“Nah, it’s ok. I’m just being lazy, I guess.” I’m quick to withdraw and brush off any suspicion. The last thing I want is to worry my friends or, even worse, receive the same response from them: that I’m being dramatic, that I’m attention-seeking, that I’m just lazy and unmotivated as are most people of my generation.

“You know, what people often self-diagnose as ‘laziness’ often turns out to be something more serious. I don’t mean to scare you, but it could be depression.“ Corpse says after a brief moment of silence in the call, his voice soft and cautious as if explaining a complex problem to a kid who’s bound to be hurt by what it’s told.

I can’t help but chuckle. He has no idea how much he’s relieved me by saying that. I always ‘don’t want to talk about it’ and ‘want to change the subject’ while what I truly need happens to be the complete opposite. I need someone to hear me out, I need someone who will not brush me and my concerns off like we don’t matter. I need someone who’ll understand. And if these people who have openly struggled with anxiety or depression don’t get me, who will?

“Yeah, I genuinely thought I thought of myself as a lowlife while I was in college cause I started losing motivation for everything and started fearing what was to come. I began avoiding going out and talking to people cause I felt like I was the sore thumb in the friend group I had - the only one without any specific goal or a dream.“ Leslie says out of the blue, “Turns out I suffered through a burnout so bad it turned into an anxiety/depression combo that I just blamed on being a lazy college student.“

“Same here!“ Toast pipes in, “I was bedridden for a while during the first days of my streaming career, for a very ridiculous reason - I believed I didn’t deserve the attention I was getting and I wasn’t doing as well as people gave me credit for. So that had me crippled with self-doubt for a long while.“

“I still don’t believe I’m doing as well as I get credit for, but oh well.“ Leslie laughs, “I already told you all about my dumpster-fire of a brain, so I’m instead gonna say: what you need is an appointment with a therapist. Also - you need to stop underestimating your struggles. Invalidating yourself and what you’re going through is gonna make things only worse for you. You need to love yourself.“

“And you need us!“ Rae exclaims, “You need the best support you can get and, lucky for you, we’re the best in the business. Count on us always being there for you, Y/N. Cause we always will be.“

“You’re never alone. We’re all just a call or a text away. Especially me.“ Corpse adds, “I’m basically at your service 24/7, just like you’ve always been for me. What are best friends for if not sharing mental struggles and lifting each other up afterwards?“

I don’t know when this smile made its home on my face but it seems to be rather happy with where it is and wants to stay. Something tells me that thanks to these guys, it will indeed stay there for quite some time. And every time it tries to slip away, they’ll be there to bring it back.

“Then let’s lift each other up, shall we? I mean, what better way to do it other than killing each other and getting away with it?“ I attempt a giggle, hiding my emotions behind it like my life depends on it. Chances are they heard all I’m feeling in my voice, but I can only hope they’re not gonna mention it.

“Y/N, hun, I’m sorry to burst your bubble but....you never get away with it.“ Corpse wheezes, causing me to narrow my eyes and frown.

“Oh, you’re so gonna get it now!“ I exclaim, cracking my knuckles before getting my hands on my keyboard, “Start the game! I have a point to prove!“

And just like that, in what felt like the blink of an eye, the clouds have shuffled aside to make path for the sunshine to grace my brain with positivity I was not expecting to feel until tomorrow morning. I can’t give myself the credit for that though - it all goes to these amazing people I have the honor of calling friends.

I may have no power over it on my own, but with the gang’s help, I can take full control of it. And as a middle finger to the melancholy, I’ll do it all with a bright smile on my face.

Take that, brain!

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[loki-hargreeves]

Vampire!Loki x Reader [smut] ~ Bite me 🎃

Warnings: vampire x human sex, biting, blood play, unprotected sex, fucking a stranger // 18+ please

Word Count: 6,9K [nice]

Summary: You’re in the forest on what seems like a regular day, when suddenly everything changes. A werewolf chases you and you’re trapped, until Loki arrives and saves you. This handsome stranger takes you to his mansion where things evolve quickly and passionately. When you find out he’s a vampire, you have two choices. To run for your life, or get captured willingly...

Author’s Note: It’s Halloween and I made Y/N a little bit freaky when it comes to vampires. Enjoy! :)

Listen to: Flesh - Simon Curtis   or any Halloween playlist honestly 

YOUR POV

The weather wasn’t always predictable. On days that started with autumn sunshine and a lovely breeze, no one could really see the storm coming. Not even you, as you made your way deep into the forest to pick berries and herbs. You had only been surrounded by the tall trees for a few lonely hours, as the sunshine turned into darkness and rain began to pour from the skies. 

Birds flew away from the clouds, and you had to assume that a thunderstorm was coming, even though you saw the light from the full moon shine through the cracks in the clouds. The only thing you could do now was to seek shelter, which wasn’t easy when you were far away from the town and the safety of your own home.

“Fuck,” You cursed as you felt the rain soaking through your coat, cold droplets running down your spine, leaving shivers behind its trail. Moments later, you heard the first brawl of thunder, roaring loudly throughout the land. You didn’t see where the lightning struck, but based on the volume of it, you had to assume it was close -- too close. 

You had to push branches and twigs out of your way as you made your way through the narrow pathway. It was incredibly dark, so it was hard to see your surroundings. The rain and thunder were loud and it made your ears hurt. The weather had changed to fast that it was almost unreal, and now you were cold and wet which was beyond annoying. 

You would be lucky if you didn’t get struck by lightning. 

After a while, you heard a cracking sound, and you caught a shadowy figure in the corner of your eye. As if you met a brick wall, you stopped and held your breath. With narrowed eyes, you scanned the dark surroundings. 

“Hello?” You called out, hoping that your voice didn’t give away just how frightened you were. It was odd how meeting other people in the woods could be so scary. 

When you didn’t get an answer, you decided to take a few steps forward. That’s when you heard another pair of footsteps, coming closer to you. Whoever it was, they didn’t want to make their presence clear, and that was very suspicious to you.

Whoever it was must’ve had ill intentions, which became awfully clear when they ran towards you. You only saw it for a short moment and struggled to see any human signs. As if you weren’t terrified enough when you realized you were being chased, you now feared that it wasn’t even human.

Without any hesitation, you dropped your basket on the ground and took off into a sprint. Adrenaline kicked into your system and your only thought was to get away from that stranger as fast as you could. You didn’t even want to imagine what would happen if you slipped and fell right into their grasp. 

Was it an animal? Why did it run like a human?

“Help!” You cried out, hoping that perhaps someone could hear you. It was unlikely, but you were stranded and absolutely helpless.

The strange creature was coming closer and closer to you.

You didn’t know if it had only been a few seconds, or minutes, but you were exhausted. Your heart was beating all the way in your throat, and every breath you took of the cold rainy air made your throat hurt. Eventually, the worst thing that could’ve happened happened.

As you stared at each other, you couldn’t even breathe. For a moment, you were paralyzed by fear as you realized that whatever had caught you looked like a werewolf. It dug its sharp claws into your arms, which made you panic. You had to fight!

Your foot tangled with a plant on the ground, and you felt your balance go way off. Just like that, your body slammed against the muddy forest ground hard and painfully. Before you could even get a chance to get up, you were caught.

The creature leapt on top of you, and you could finally see what it was. Lightning illuminated the sky and you saw its face clearly. To your horror, it was hairy and beast-like. It had a snout, and rows of sharp and pointy teeth, coated with drool. What frightened you the most were the bright yellow eyes that bore holes into your skull.

With nothing to lose, you tried to kick it off you, but to no avail. The creature growled angrily and opened its mouth. You let out another horrified scream as you feared the worst. 

But it didn’t bite you. 

The creature froze as well and it was staring at something that you couldn’t see. Then as fast as it had appeared, it let go of you and ran off into the forest. Your body was shaking in terror and you couldn’t believe what had happened. What had possibly scared it away?

You sat up from the cold ground and looked around, hoping to see who had saved you. At first, you couldn’t see anything at all. Tears blurred your vision and it was dark. Then someone stepped out of the shadows, someone that at least resembled a human, to your luck. 

A tall, dark-haired man stood in front of you. He had pale skin, and that contrasted with his dark clothes. Something about him was very charming, welcoming. You felt safe in his presence.

“Thank you,” You barely got the words out of your mouth.

The stranger looked at the wounds on your arms. Even though your thick coat, he noticed the blood. “Come with me. I live nearby.”

He smiled ever so slightly as he walked closer to you, “We shouldn’t stick around. It might return,” He let you know and he was oddly calm about it. Almost like the sight of a werewolf was anything but strange.

“We’re in the middle of nowhere,” You remembered. The closest houses were far away, at least the ones that you knew of. 

Did he live in the middle of the deep and dark woods? 

You realized that you didn’t have any better options, so you decided to trust him. Just like that, the two of you were on your way. You stuck close to him because you were still terrified, and he was the only thing that made you feel even a little bit better.

It took you a while to calm down from it all. The initial shock faded and you could actually think about it. What you had seen was absurd it and made you sick to think how close to death you had been. How did this stranger make the creature run away? It was something you simply couldn’t understand. 

“What is your name?” He asked you, interrupting your thoughts. You didn’t mind it.

“I’m Y/N,” You answered him politely, wiping your face from tears and dirt, “and you?”

He didn’t look at you as he answered, “You can call me Loki.”

                  It turned out that Loki had told you the truth. As bizarre as it was, he had a house in the middle of nowhere. It looked like a mansion, with its black iron gates, impressive garden and the sheer size of the building. It even had a tower that seemed to have one floor more than the rest of the house. You wondered if he lived there all alone, and why. 

Kindly, he invited you inside where you could finally rest your tense body and feel safe from the monster that had tried to eat you earlier. You were certain of it.

The inside of the house was just as impressive as it was outside. You walked in to see a large spiral staircase to the upper floor, large paintings on the walls with golden frames and furniture that looked old yet fancy and expensive. Whoever this Loki was, he sure had a good taste in the finer things in life. 

He was lighting up the fireplace so you could warm yourself.

“Thank you, again,” You felt the need to thank him. He had to know how grateful you were. If it wasn’t for him, you’d be long gone already. And now he was treating you as a guest as if he hadn’t done enough already. 

As the two of you sat by the fireplace, he offered to take your coat off. He hung it by the fireplace so it would dry faster. That’s when you first saw your arm wounds. The blood had spread all over the sleeves of your white shirt, and you saw rips that were left by the massive claws. Loki stared at the wounds for a while, almost strangely. You brushed it off, thinking that he didn’t like the sight of blood too much.

“No worries, love. I couldn’t just leave you there by yourself, now could I?”

You had only just met him, but the pet name made your heart flutter. You got a better look at him and noticed how charming he really was. Not only was he the equivalent of a prince, but he was also incredibly nice to you. It was hard not to like him. 

He returned to the couch you were sat on and inspected the wounds. The blood certainly made it look worse than it really was. It didn’t hurt too much and you realized it was mostly a bunch of surface scratches. 

“Does it hurt?” Loki wondered, never taking his eyes off your bloody wound. 

“Not really. I’ll be fine,” You reassured him. The last thing you wanted was to bother him with your worries and pain right now. 

Nevertheless, Loki rolled up your sleeve to reveal the wound on your left arm. His cool finger traced your skin, and you had to be lying if you said you didn’t like his touch. Something about him was so captivating. You didn’t even know him but you felt like you could do anything for him. It was strange, and you didn’t understand it.

He pulled his finger back and stared at your blood that was on his skin. After a while, it got slightly stranger.

Loki seemed to realize that too as he stood up. “I’ll be right back.”

He walked away, leaving you alone to warm up by the fireplace. You didn’t think too much of it.

        As Loki returned, you felt much better already. He was holding a small box in his large hands. He opened it and you saw needles, cotton, and all things you would need to stitch someone up. “I am running you a bath. By the time I’m done with you, it should be ready.”

That’s what took him so long. Hearing that made your heart swell and you were moved by his kindness. “Thank you, that’s really nice of you.”

“Of course,” Loki smiled and looked right into your eyes. Those eyes of his were captivating. You looked into them and couldn’t look away, but you didn’t want to look away either. Why did he have such an effect on you? 

Before you got lost in his eyes, he looked away and began to attend to your wound. “This might sting a little bit,” He explained as he doused a cotton ball in a clear liquid. Next thing you knew, he pressed it on your wounds and it burned like fire. You bit your lips together and tried to ignore the pain. 

“Are you okay?” Loki wondered, sensing that you were in pain.

“I’m good,” You reassured him through gritted teeth. 

A few more seconds passed and he was done, throwing the bloody cotton ball into the fireplace. “You’re lucky, Y/N,” He explained mysteriously. 

“What do you mean?”

Loki was focused on fixing you up, but he continued speaking, “Do you know what attacked you?”

You had your suspicions, but you were afraid you’d sound stupid if you told him. “I’m not sure,” you had to tell him.

Loki moved onto your other arm and you knew he was going to clean the wound, which would hurt again. Just as he pressed the cotton ball against the wound and you hissed in pain, he continued, “That was a werewolf.”

Hearing him say that was almost relieving. Either both of you were mad, or you had seen right. The relief was quickly replaced by fear. It wasn’t very reassuring to know that they existed. 

“How did you make it run away?” You wanted to know. To you, Loki didn’t look like a threat. At least not to a strong beast like the werewolf. It just didn’t make sense to you how it ran away with its tail between its legs once Loki appeared -- seemingly out of nowhere.

He continued rubbing the cotton ball around your wound, cleaning up the dried blood. “I don’t think you would believe me if I told you.”

You just talked about the existence of werewolves, yet he didn’t think you would trust him? 

“Try me,” You encouraged him to tell you the truth. 

Silently, Loki finished his work and threw the other cotton ball into the fireplace as well, watching how it burned away. 

You were afraid you had been rude. Before you could try to apologize, he sighed, “I think the bath is ready. We can talk after you’re done.”

That was good enough for you.

                   During the time you were alone in the lavish bathroom, soaking in the warm bath that smelled like flowers, you couldn’t stop thinking about Loki. Why was he so mysterious? Why was he being so nice to you? It didn’t make sense. Many people would’ve stopped helping you after chasing the werewolf away. Just the thought of the werewolf made your head spin. 

It was much better to think about Loki. The tall, dark-haired stranger had certainly swept you off your feet. Each time you looked at him, you felt an invisible force trying to push you closer to him. It was absurd since you had met him that day. But somehow, it also made sense. 

You were done with your bath and you wrapped yourself in robes that he had given to you. Your clothes were drying and after all, wearing some silky robes in a beautiful mansion wasn’t so bad. 

But you didn’t see Loki’s reflection.

Someone was playing the piano, which was the first thing you noticed when you walked out of the bathroom. With quiet steps, you walked towards the staircase, and you saw Loki. He was playing the grand piano downstairs, by the staircase. It was a familiar tune, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. Nevertheless, it was elegant and he played it beautifully. For a moment, you stood there and adored the music he created. It filled the otherwise silent mansion perfectly.

As you stood there and adored him, you saw a huge mirror on the wall, facing the piano. You saw the flames from the fireplace in the reflection, the beginning of the staircase and the piano.

At first, you thought it was the angle. But then you realized that you should’ve been able to see him. You blinked a few times and looked closer, but his reflection simply didn’t exist. By now, he had stopped playing the piano, and to your horror, he was looking at you. 

Suddenly, you didn’t feel safe anymore, and your poor heart sank to the bottom of your stomach. 

“Do not be afraid, pet. If I wanted to hurt you, you wouldn’t be standing there,” Loki broke the silence between the two of you. 

Although you were afraid, you realized that he had a good point. 

“What are you?” You had to know. You felt trapped as you stood upstairs. He blocked the way to the front door. Then you realized that if you would run, he would probably catch you nevertheless. 

“Isn’t it obvious?” Loki wondered, standing up from the chair by the piano and spreading his arms in a dramatic gesture. 

You remembered how odd he was when he saw your blood, how he had just stared at it for a while. He didn’t have a reflection. He lived alone, in the middle of nowhere. His presence had scared the werewolf away. 

You put all the pieces together and it all made sense. Shivers ran down your spine like cold daggers against your skin, and your knees felt weak. “You’re a vampire,” You stated, but it sounded more like a question.

A proud smile decorated his face when he heard that. “Very good, Y/N.”

This couldn’t be happening.

First, a werewolf attacked you and now you were facing a vampire, in his own home. You were afraid, but another part of you...wasn’t. You felt slightly excited, as wrong as it was. 

“Are you afraid of me?” Loki wondered and slowly made his way up the stairs. 

Run! Run away! 

Your mind was screaming at you to run away from the blood-sucking creature, but you didn’t. You just stood there, trying to remain as calm as possible as he got closer and closer. By the time he reached the final step, you could hear your heartbeat ringing in your ears. 

“Answer me,” Loki wanted to know if you feared him. He stood right in front of you and took your shaking hand into his own. His skin was cool, like a window on a rainy day. It was oddly comforting.

“A little bit,” You were honest. You knew you were supposed to be terrified, but when you looked into his eyes, you felt an odd sense of calm. 

You were afraid, but you also enjoyed it. It didn’t make any sense to you, but you didn’t mind. Loki’s presence somehow made you feel alive, but you weren’t going to tell him that. Right?

It seemed like Loki already knew that. Judging by the smirk on his face, and the look in his pretty eyes, he knew. Could he read your mind or was he just that good at reading people?

“I don’t know,” You murmured. A part of you knew it already. You knew you couldn’t outrun him, but you also didn’t want to run. Even if you had decided to run, you knew that a part of you wanted to be caught. 

“Why didn’t you run?” Loki wondered.

He brushed his fingers against your cheek and instinctively your body leaned against his touch ever so slightly. It almost felt like you were in a trance, but you didn’t resist it at all. 

“I think you do,” Loki raised his eyebrows and traced his fingers along your jaw, then your neck. He could feel your racing pulse against his fingertips, feel the warm blood rushing in your veins. 

Having a vampire toy with your neck like that was intimidating. Was he going to bite you? 

“W-what are you going to do to me?” You dared to question him. 

Loki leaned closer to your body, and you felt your breath hitch in your throat. He was so close that you could smell his cologne. His mouth was so close to your ear and you realized that he wasn’t breathing. “Nothing too bad, love. Nothing you wouldn’t want to be done to you,” He answered quietly. His voice was so smooth, it made your body weak. 

His other hand let go of your hand that was no longer shaking, and he grabbed you by your waist. Your body melted against his and your fear was quickly replaced by something much stronger, a desire you never knew you had before. Perhaps it was wicked, but you felt a burning need to be touched by him.

“You smell divine,” Loki purred against your skin, holding himself back so he wouldn’t bite you just yet. It was so tempting. If he wanted to, he could suck you dry right then and there, but he didn’t. Loki wanted to savour the moment, to play with you as a cat would play with is prey. “I bet you taste marvellous,” He continued. 

The tall double doors to the master bedroom opened loudly, slamming against the walls and the two of you made your way inside. Loki had a tight grip on you and he didn’t let go until you were on the huge king-sized bed, resting against the pillows. Loki stood by the edge of the bed and he looked at you, taking in the sight of your beauty. He adored the way you lied there, looking at him with a thrilled smile on your face. To him, you looked like a goddess and he couldn’t wait to break you, to taste you. 

His words made you feel warm inside. This much attention from someone you barely knew was fun. You knew this was dangerous, but you didn’t care. Right now, all that mattered was him and the way he made you feel. “Why don’t you have a taste?” You wondered, which was probably the last thing he had expected to hear. Most mortals were scared to death when they were faced with a vampire, but you weren’t.

And Loki relished that. He knew he had done the right thing when he saved you from the forest.

Your breath was heavy and you began to grow impatient. It felt like your body was on fire and only he could make it better. Hoping to lure him to you, you grabbed the tie around your waist that kept the robe around your otherwise naked body. Slowly, you tugged it and untied the loose knot, which didn’t go unseen by Loki. He watched your every move so intensely, surely not missing anything. 

“You’re much naughtier than I had anticipated, Y/N,” He admitted. You noticed that his voice was deeper now, and it made you tremble to your core.

Loki wasn’t any less excited than you were. He pushed his body closer to yours and then you felt it, his cock was hard and it was pushed right against your body. A moan escaped your lips, blending into your heated kiss. 

You opened the robe slowly, just enough to show the curve of your breasts, the skin on your stomach and your thigh. Just enough so he’d catch the bait.

To your luck, Loki joined you on the bed and he wasn’t shy about it. He yanked the robe away, exposing your body to him like a gift wrapped in wrapping paper. The weight of his body on yours trapped you, but in the very best way. Your eyes met and finally, his teasing touch turned into something more. Loki captured your lips into his, and at that moment, you almost forgot that he was a vampire. The kiss was passionate and harsh, but lovely nevertheless. You felt as if you could spend the rest of your days like this. 

You couldn’t help yourself when you bucked your hips against him, trying to gain some friction. Loki growled quietly, which was like music to your ears. How did he sound so hot when he did that? 

He moved his lips to your jaw, peppering kisses on your skin and slowly moving towards your neck. Another moan left your lips when he found your sweet spot. “You like that?” Loki chuckled darkly and kissed the same spot again, making you take a shaky breath to collect yourself.

“Yes..” You had to admit it, yearning for his touch again, and again, and again.

Loki’s cold hand had been tracing patterns on your skin, and now he cupped your breast. His thumb ran over your hardening nipple in a teasing manner and he didn’t hesitate to squeeze you properly. You arched your back and gave him better access to devour your neck. His lips felt like heaven against your needy body.

“Loki,” You mewled his name, needing him to do more. You held onto his broad shoulders with your trembling fingers. By now, you were so aroused and touch starved that your body was overwhelmed, which resulted in you shaking in anticipation. 

You wanted his touch, his lips, everything. It was a little embarrassing, but right now you didn’t care if you seemed desperate. “I want you!”

“What do you want, darling?” He wanted to hear you say it.

But when you felt his twitching cock against your wetness, his huge hands toying with your breasts and his oh so lovely lips nibbling on your neck, you struggled to think, let alone form a sentence. You let out a frustrated whine, which again made Loki laugh. “Words, love. Tell me what you want.” This time he sounded more demanding. 

“Mmhmm,” Loki moved his hand up your chest and around your neck, holding you a little tighter but not enough to choke you. “I might want something in return,” He reminded you. 

You looked into his eyes that were now darkened by lust. As scary as it seemed, you didn’t care. You were aware of what you were getting yourself into, with this vampire. 

“Bite me,” You told him boldly. 

Loki seemed pleasantly surprised by that. “It will hurt,” He let you know as he brushed your hair away from your neck. He was thirsty and he wanted to taste you already, but prolonging it made it more fun. 

You were far too eager to think about the consequences. 

“I don’t care,” You admitted shamelessly. A little pain here and there would only spice things up.

That was more than enough for Loki. He parted his lips and you finally saw them, his fangs. Two sharp teeth that looked like the ends of a pair of daggers. They were sharp and long. Oddly enough, you found him attractive with them.

Loki nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck and you wrapped your arms around his torso, for comfort but also to keep him close because it felt nice. By now, your heart was back in your throat, beating hard from both arousal and excitement, and a little bit of fear. 

As if to make you more comfortable, Loki pushed his hand between your legs and found your clit. He started rubbing circles on your little bundle of nerves which felt heavenly. His fingers were skilled, and he somehow knew exactly how to make you crumble beneath his touch. Instinctively you wrapped your leg around him, giving him better access to your dripping wet cunt.

Suddenly you felt a very sharp pain in your neck. His teeth pierced your skin and he bit you, surely hard enough to leave a prominent mark.

“Ohh,” You moaned in pain and squeezed your eyes shut as you tried to stay tough. It hurt more than you thought it would, but it wasn’t so bad that you had to push him off. Once his teeth had sunk deep enough, he closed his lips around the fresh wound and he sucked on your skin. It was a bizarre sensation when he drank your blood, not letting a single drop go to waste. Through all the pain it caused, it felt good. 

Loki pulled his sharp fangs out of your neck and you felt a hot stream of blood running down your skin, which he licked off immediately. “Gosh, you taste even better than I thought you would,” He let you know.

“Loki,” You moaned his name delightfully, feeling a new kind of high. He had just drunk your blood and now his fingers were giving you exactly what you needed. 

“You’re doing so good,” He praised you, which made you feel proud. You wanted to be good for him. For a moment, he let go of you, which made you whine impatiently. But he didn’t leave you in distress for long. You pushed yourself up by the elbows and watched how he crawled down your body, kissing you chest and stomach as he did so. Finally, he was between your legs and he had a tight grip on your body, keeping you locked on the spot so you couldn’t possibly escape the torture of pleasure he was going to put you through. 

“Let’s see how you can handle this,” You could barely hear it. The next thing you knew, his tongue licked your heat all the way to your clit. Then Loki captured it between his lips and began sucking on it, and nibbling it, whatever to make you writhe in both pleasure and pain.

You could hardly breathe when he had started. It happened so fast and you were suddenly indulged in the greatest pleasure you had ever felt in your life. Your body didn’t know how to react, and you were squirming which was out of your control. But Loki was strong and he kept you exactly where he wanted you.

“Oh my god!” You cried out and squeezed the sheets with your hands, having to hold onto something. Never before had you felt an orgasm forming faster. No one had ever touched you like this. It felt like you were being devoured by a god, and you loved every second of it. 

When Loki pushed two of his long fingers inside you, you lost your breath for a moment. The feeling of his fingers stretching your cunt as his mouth tortured your clit was too much. You felt warmth spread on your face from embarrassment when you knew you couldn’t hold it for much longer. 

“Loki...I’m going to come, I’m-”

“Do it,” he wanted you to come undone right before him. Knowing that you were close made him eager to push you even further. He thrusted his fingers inside you faster and curled them just perfectly. He kept doing that and he never took his eyes off of yours. 

Thankfully, he stopped -- for now. He kissed your inner thigh and then let go of you. As you stayed on the bed to catch your breath, Loki stood up. By now he wanted you so bad it was almost unbearable. His pants were tight to the point it almost hurt. He needed you, and he needed you fast. He rid himself of his clothes that were just in the way and then returned to the bed. 

You looked down and when you saw just how intensely he was watching you, you came. Your orgasm was powerful, and it felt like it knocked you out. It rippled through your body strongly and left you a puddle on the mattress. It didn’t stop Loki. He pulled his fingers out and licked your arousal, making sure to taste all of you.

“Loki! Fuck...I can’t,” You whimpered when it got too much. Although it felt amazing, you were sure that if he kept teasing your sensitive cunt, you’d pass out. 

“Are you alright, love?” He was full of lust, but he also had to know if you were up to it. 

“I’ve never been better,” You answered him joyously. It was true. You couldn’t recall ever feeling as good as you did now. It was like you were on cloud nine with him. Somehow the bite didn’t hurt. It felt like bliss had enveloped you entirely, and it wasn’t over yet.

Seeing all of him was impressive. His cock was huge, and the tip was red. You knew he was being extremely careful with you and he must’ve yearned for touch, some much needed friction. Before he could crawl on top of you, you grabbed him by his shoulders and pushed him on his back, crawling on his lap as you did so. He seemed surprised by this move, but he didn’t mind it. “Are you sure you can take it?” 

“Oh I can,” You were confident. By now, you had recovered from your first mind-blowing orgasm and you needed more. It had only taken one time and you felt addicted. The thought of feeling his cock inside you was like a dream and you needed it to come true now. 

Carefully, you grabbed his cock and rubbed your thumb over the tip, spreading his pre-cum. It was so big that you could hardly close your hand around it.

“Like what you see?” Loki had turned a little cocky by now, but you didn’t mind it at all. 

You looked into his eyes and nodded, “I certainly can’t complain.”

Loki grabbed your hips rather roughly, but you liked the dominance of it all. You leaned your body closer to his dick, but instead of riding him, you decided to tease him. You rubbed your clit against his tip, and then sat down so his cock was trapped between you and his stomach. Then slowly, you rubbed yourself off on his cock, feeling how it twitched by the teasing touch. 

He couldn’t take it anymore. He turned the two of you around coarsely so that he was on top. You barely had time to register what was happening when he grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head, with one hand.

“You’re certainly full of surprises,” Loki’s voice was raspy, and you could tell he felt good. Perhaps he was a little irritated by the teasing but in the very best way.

You rested your hands on his chest and picked up the pace, humping yourself on his cock which felt so good. By now, your clit was pulsing ever so eagerly and you were sure your arousal was dripping on the sheets. A little moan left your lips, and it was driving Loki wild.

Finally, he sank his cock into you. It was a little harsh, but it was incredibly satisfying. 

“Loki! Holy…” You panted, and didn’t finish the sentence. His body was heavy on yours and you felt trapped, and hugged. 

“Loki,” You tried to catch his attention in the middle of it all. He grabbed your jaw and looked into your eyes curiously, slowing down ever so slightly with his strong thrusts. He was listening. 

He had a good grip on you, which he used as he began pounding into you. He wasn’t careful anymore, not like he was before. His touch was strong and it would certainly leave bruises. The way he pushed himself deep inside your cunt was feral. It was driving you absolutely wild.

A set of moans and cries left your mouth uncontrollably. The way he reached that delightful spot within you every time was almost too much for you to handle. He fucked you unlike any other man before. Like a vampire. You were his prey.

Loki grabbed your ass and squeezed tightly, making you groan and hold onto him tighter. Your nails were digging into his skin, but he didn’t seem to mind it at all.

“You...feel...absolutely amazing, pet,” He growled to you, chasing his own high.

A warm feeling spread through your body. You were happy that he felt good too. Somehow, you wanted more. 

“Bite me,” You wanted him to do it again. You wanted to feel the adrenaline rush and the pain again, but now combined with his lovely pounding.

There was a gleam in his eyes now, and you didn’t have to tell him twice. He was quick to move your head and reveal the unbroken skin on the other side of your neck. He could see your pulse, and it was practically begging him to bite already. This time he went right for it. The sharp fangs stung madly and then sank deep into your flesh. At first, the pain made you freeze. You held onto him tighter, combing your fingers through his long, raven hair and holding onto his neck.

When he started sucking your precious blood, and he kept digging his cock into your wetness, you relaxed. A wave of pleasure crashed against you and somehow it felt euphoric how he was biting you. You couldn’t feel pain anymore; just a perfect bliss. 

You let out a throaty moan and closed your eyes, wanting to feel everything as intensely as you possibly could. He was so close, and you could’ve sworn you felt his cock all the way in your stomach. At first, it hurt how much he was stretching you, but now it was the best thing you had ever felt. 

There was a tingling sensation on your neck when he swallowed your blood. Loki craved more, but he also knew that if he took too much, you would suffer from it. 

With any other human, he wouldn’t have thought about it twice. He would’ve sucked them dry and left them to die. But he didn’t want to do that with you. No, you were special and now that he had you, he wasn’t going to let go.

So he abandoned your neck, and kissed the wound he made -- to make you feel better. He had a little bit of your blood left in his mouth, which he wanted to savour until he got an idea.

Once again, Loki grabbed your jaw forcefully, which caused you to open your mouth. Without hesitation, he spat the remaining blood right into your mouth. “Taste yourself,” He explained and closed your mouth so you couldn’t spit it out and waste the bloody nectar.

At first, you felt shocked that he did that. But you quickly learned that you enjoyed it. The way he just manhandled you with such care. The blood had a strong irony taste. At first, it was almost too much. But then you swallowed it, all of it while looking at Loki. Once he saw that you swallowed it, he was happy. 

“Good girl,” he praised you again. He kissed your lips, which took you by surprise but in a pleasant way. Then he picked up the pace, fucking you harder again, bringing the both of you closer to the edge. Another storm was brewing within you, and you were getting dangerously close. Your walls clenched around Loki, and he growled at the sensation. “You’re close, aren’t you?” He realized, and he sounded smug about it. 

You could only nod your head as an answer, along with an incompetent moan.

He wanted to watch you unfold, to be so full of pleasure that you wouldn’t know how to handle it. Torturing others with pleasure was one of the greatest things he knew of, and it was no different with you. Loki began to rub circles on your clit just to make it harder for you.

“Oh god!” You gasped at the sudden sensation. His cold fingers felt like a dream against your heat. Like water after a long, hot day. 

“Come for me! Come my little pet,” He wanted you to cum all over his cock. Loki was close too and he couldn’t wait to spill his seed inside your inviting body. It was incredibly tempting, and he wasn’t sure if he could stop now even if he wanted to. 

You felt like he pushed you over the edge and he did so hard. Your second orgasm approached fast and deeply, shaking you to the core. Your mind went blank and you were sure you cried out his name repeatedly like a prayer, but you weren’t aware of it. The mixture of feelings and desire had you overwhelmed, like in a dream-like state of mind.

Loki felt your walls tightening around him which pushed him to the edge too. He grabbed your hips and buried himself deep inside you as he finally came. A warm feeling spread through his entire body and he felt relieved.

His cum coated your walls, and you couldn’t help but to moan when you felt him filling you up. It was an incredibly satisfying feeling to know he came too.Loki didn’t pull out. He wanted to savour the moment for as long as he possibly could. He wanted to stay close to you like this and soak in the bliss.

And he knew that if you were up to it, he could do it again. After all, he was no ordinary man.

“That was incredible, Loki,” You whispered, afraid to break the comfortable silence that set around you.

Loki brushed his fingers over the bite-marks ever so gently. He knew that you, as a human, must’ve been exhausted after all that. He didn’t just bite you once, but twice, and he had handled you quite decently as well. He’d happily do it again, but he knew it could be too much for a mere mortal like you. 

For now. 

“You should rest,” He told you after a while. 

Sleep would top it all off nicely, you thought. “Can you stay?” You wondered. His presence was calming and you enjoyed it. Deep down, you wished that this wasn’t going to end already.

“Of course. I’ll go grab something and I will be right back by your side,” Loki promised you as he was brushing his fingers on your neck and shoulders.

He wasn’t going to throw you out now that he had gotten what he wanted. It made your heart swell warmly. Who would’ve guessed a vampire could be so sweet? 

As he pulled out of you, you felt empty and cold. You squeezed your weary legs together and tried to pull a blanket over your exposed body. He had been right. You needed to rest. All that had taken a toll on you. You were going to clean yourself up very soon, but your legs were jelly and you knew you wouldn’t be able to get up just yet. 

Loki grabbed the large blanket and spread it over you safely. Something inside of him told him to take care of you. He didn’t know why but he was protective over you. Perhaps it was because you were different.

Or because he hadn’t killed you, and you were now going to turn into a vampire -- just like him.

 He was the one who had started the process, infected you with the beginning of a new life. Loki felt responsible for your transformation and he was going to make sure it would happen smoothly.

You were his now, but you just didn’t know that yet.

A/N: You made it to the end! Great! I hope you liked it, and if you did I would really appreciate your feedback and/or a reblog <3 Thank you. 🎃

TAGS:  @iraniq @blackroseyaz @badass-psycho  @r-alexandra01  @your-pixels-are-showing @disasterren @iamsuperjenna  @yuna-belikova @ornella0910 [let me know if you want to be added/removed]

#Loki #Loki smut #vampire!Loki #vampire smut #loki x reader #vampire!loki x reader #loki x you #Loki x Y/N #Loki halloween fic #Loki fanfiction #Loki Laufeyson #Loki Odinson #Loki imagine #loki one-shot

[seagreen-meets-grey]

When Lightning Strikes Ch. 16

When your life is nothing but a cloudless sky, lightning can come and strike you so unexpectedly, you won’t even know what hit you.

Or: When Hiccup and Astrid meet, it is as if lightning strikes.

[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5] [Chapter 6] [Chapter 7] [Chapter 8] [Chapter 9] [Chapter 10] [Chapter 11] [Chapter 12] [Chapter 13] [Chapter 14] [Chapter 15] [Chapter 17] [Chapter 18] [Chapter 19] [Chapter 20]

Crossposted on ao3 and ff.net

_______________

Hiccup regretted not going back for a jacket the minute the wind started blowing sideways. His hand hurt from gripping the handle of his umbrella, preventing it from succumbing to the forces of nature and escaping him like a gas-filled balloon. When it turned inside-out for the third time, he gave up and closed it, hunching his shoulders in an attempt to keep the rain from disappearing down his back. It only semi-worked. He could count the goosebumps on his skin. Soon, his t-shirt was clinging to his torso and he started rubbing his arms to stop shivering.

This had been a very stupid idea. Why had he not thought this through? Where was he even going? And why on earth had he not taken his car?! But turning around and walking back to his house sounded worse than to keep walking, because the way back was the direction the rain and wind were coming from. He started jogging to warm up and get out of this weather as fast as possible, taking the route to the nearest person he could think of.

With a trembling finger, he rang the doorbell, waiting for the familiar static. The first voice he could hear was that of a barking dog, then some swearing and yelling at the dog to shut up, then finally, someone addressed him. “Hello?”

“Hey man, it’s me. Can you let me in? I’m cold and wet.”

“That’s not what- Shut up, Hookfang! Sit! That’s not what your mom said last night.”

Hiccup let his forehead fall against the front door. “Just let me in, please.”

The sound that came out of the buzzer reminded him of a dying cow, but he was able to open the door anyway. At the top of the stairs, Snotlout was standing in the open apartment door, holding his excited dog by the collar. When it spotted Hiccup, it wagged its tail against its owner’s legs and barked happily.

“Come in before he barks up the whole stairwell again. Mr. Browner’s been sticking his head out the door every time we came back from a walk to complain if Hookfang made even the tiniest of sounds. And you know he’ll make the sound if he sees people.” Before he closed the door, he yelled down the stairs, “Yes, Mr. Browner, I’m talking about you, you massive dick!”

Hiccup scratched the happy dog, trying to escape its tongue. “Wouldn’t massive dick be a compliment in your book?”

“What?”

“Nothing. Do you have a jacket for me?”

“What do you need a jacket for?”

Hiccup wordlessly pointed first at his clothes, then out the next window. “Oh, come on…” Of course, in the few minutes he’d spent inside, the rain had let up. A small patch of cloud was even lighting up a little, as if about to expose a bit of sunshine.

“You walked through a car wash or what?”

“Why- why would I ever- No, it’s been raining for the past few hours, have you not looked outside lately?”

Snotlout flopped into his armchair where a set of headphones and a half-empty bag of chips were resting on each arm. “Nah, I was busy.”

Gently shoving Hookfang away from him so that he could move, Hiccup peaked at the TV screen. “Obviously.” He was looking at the pause menu of a Harry Potter Lego game. Snotlout quickly grabbed the remote and the screen went dark.

“This is Call of Duty. Shut up, Hiccup.”

“Clearly. I could still use a jacket, though.” Oh, he would use this newfound knowledge on a later occasion. When he had the right mind for it and wasn’t still feeling like a wet towel in winter.

With a groan, his friend got up and left to his bedroom. As soon as he was gone, Hookfang jumped onto the chair and stuck his nose into the bag of chips, licking the inside. Hiccup grimaced. Snotlout loved his dog, but he still had trouble making it listen to him. Or follow any rules at all. Lucky for him, Hiccup now knew an expert in all things dog training and– Oh, right. Said expert had also just kissed him, more or less, and then bolted.

She’d said she needed to go home. Maybe she’d meant her parents’ place? Maybe she hadn’t even been talking about anything regarding her relationship with her husband? Was he overthinking this again? Maybe… Maybe she’d forgotten she needed to meet her family, the equivalent of remembering the oven was still on. Or something. He sighed. It was a place to start.

He was hit in the head by a hoodie, followed by a yell from Snotlout. “Catch! Pff, loser.” Hiccup decided not to say anything when his friend reached into the bag of chips and ate a few, before inspecting his hand and scrunching up his face in disgust. “Ew, dog slobber! Hookfang, you shit dog!” The shit dog wasn’t impressed by its owner’s disgust, staying on the armchair without a care in the world. “Now get off my chair!”

When the dog didn’t move, Hiccup sharply whistled and pointed down at his feet with a stern face. “Hookfang, come here!” After a few moments of intense eye contact, Hookfang actually gave in and followed the command, lying down at Hiccup’s feet, much to Snotlout’s dismay.

“Hey! Why are you listening to him?! You betrayed me, you son of a bitch dog!”

“You know, technically, he is the son of a bitch.”

“Shut up, Hiccup. I need that jacket back by tonight.”

Hiccup took in the chipped flame print on the sleeves. The jacket itself was too wide for him, but the sleeves were way too short. He probably looked like an idiot. “What for?”

“I want to wear it to work tomorrow. There’s this girl that likes that stuff.”

“You mean oversized clothes for kids? Didn’t you wear this back in school?”

“It’s retro! Whatever, she digs it. So give it back later, okay? I really need it.”

He shrugged. “Sure. Thanks anyway. I bet you didn’t have any other jacket you could lend me.”

“I’m not gonna give you my fine stuff. You wouldn’t be able to handle the swag, anyway.”

“What swag, Snotlout?” Before his friend could dive into that age-old discussion again, Hiccup held up his hands to stop him. “Save it, I gotta go.”

“Where?”

“Uh, I don’t know. Bye, Snot. Hookfang, listen to Snotlout. Whatever. Thanks again for the help!”

He had grabbed his umbrella and was out the door before the dog could follow him or Snotlout could dig for more details. He didn’t have time for that right now. There was a place he needed to go and there was no time to waste. Realizing he could have asked for a ride, or at least for a short ride to his own car, he slapped his hand against his forehead, breaking into a jog.

Every few minutes, a short drizzle broke out of the clouds, and Hiccup felt taken back in time to a certain rainy November day. Time was of importance just like it had been then, but today, he was determined to catch her in time and not let go. Unless she wanted him to, which he hoped she didn’t, but now that he thought about it, maybe she needed to be away from him and concentrate on the relationship she wanted to keep. Winded, he slowed to a stop and leaned against a traffic light at an intersection. The next bus stop was just down the road.

Checking the schedule on the wall of the bus shelter, he sat down on the narrow bench underneath and waited. With a sigh of relief, he found his city ticket in his wallet. The hoodie and exercise had warmed him up enough and he made sure no water would drip out of his hair and run down his neck.

What if the roles were reversed this time? What if she – and he tried to not get his hopes up – had plunged deeper into this connection between them and now needed to sever all ties to him in order to not lose her mind? That he could relate to.

He got to his feet the moment the bus rounded the corner. If her decision really ended up to break contact, he would still find her and talk to her first. For his own attempt at closure, at least. He’d know he at least tried this time, and didn’t give up at the last minute because the mountains in his way were too steep to climb.

He had to change busses twice until he got out two streets over from her parents’ place. Using the short pause between drizzles, he made it to the driveway, eyes darting around in search for her car. It wasn’t there. His stomach dropped and he felt his heart beat in his throat as he walked to the front door and rang the bell. He would leave no stone unturned; he was all in.

The door opened and Wilma Hofferson curiously raised her eyebrows at the sight of him, disheveled and wet from the rain, wearing an unfitting hoodie.

“Hi,” he nervously greeted. “Is Astrid here, by any chance?”

Wilma shook her head. “Last I saw her she was leaving to meet someone for lunch earlier, I assumed it was you.”

“Oh.”

“Seems like I assumed wrong. Have you tried her phone?”

He could have slapped himself. Her phone. He could just call her, for fuck’s sake! “No- no, you were right, she was with me. But then she left and now I’m trying to find her, but seems like she went home home, so never mind. Sorry for bothering you!”

Mind already recalling her phone number, he left a bewildered Wilma behind and jogged back to the bus stop. He scanned the schedule, but he had no clue where he should go. He didn’t even know her address. Tapping his right foot on the ground in a quick pace, he tried to get his racing thoughts in order.

“Alright, Hiccup,” he mumbled to himself, “what’s the plan here? How can you solve this?”

Call her and ask for her address? No, that was stupid, and also inconvenient. He could just ask her to meet him somewhere.

Call her and talk on the phone? Also no. This was a conversation to have face to face.

Call Heather to ask Dagur for Eret’s number or address? Yeah. Great idea, Hiccup. Call your ex to ask her brother for your almost-lover’s husband’s number. Just call her yourself, you idiot.

But when he pulled out his phone and stared at her contact info, the knot in his stomach grew tighter. It all came down to this phone call. It was easy, actually. He just had to press call, wait for her to pick up, then convince her to meet him for a very important conversation.

He was frozen where he stood, the steady sound of rain on the bus shelter’s roof like white noise in his ears. His heart was pounding, growing bigger and bigger in his chest, pushing against his lungs until he felt like he couldn’t breathe. Ripping his gaze away from his phone, he took a few deep breaths and started walking, absentmindedly opening his umbrella.

His hand was clenched around his phone, the chipped corner of the screen digging the reminder into his skin that he was avoiding his task. It was just a call. A call he needed to make. But when he imagined her answering, his mind went blank. What was he supposed to say? How was he supposed to make sure he didn’t screw this up?

Confront your fear, he heard Dr. Mala’s voice inside his head. Examine it, analyze it, confront it. What’s the worst that could happen?

Well, for starters, he could stutter around for so long that she hung up on him. She could tell him she didn’t want to talk to him. She could ignore his call altogether.

He clenched his jaw in determination. Well, then he would try again! He would find a way to reach her, he would even make an ass of himself by showing up on her parents’ doorstep every day until she either talked to him or told him to fuck off. No more avoiding, no more hiding behind fears of rejection and hurt. That wouldn’t get him anywhere.

The phone was already pressed against his ear and signaling an outgoing call before he could drive himself mad by going over what exactly he would say. Sometimes, he just had to approach the dragon without the axe. Maybe it was friendly.

After twenty eternal seconds, he realized she wasn’t going to pick up. Before his mind could start making up ridiculous reasons for that, he firmly told himself to try again in exactly fifteen minutes. In the meantime, he would just walk around Berk in the rain in his friend’s hideous jacket, definitely failing at not preparing what exactly he would say when he tried her again. But if he already didn’t give a shit about his appearance, there was no way he would avoid the call anymore, either. And hey, if she told him she wouldn’t be friends with him anymore, for whatever reason, then at least he knew where he stood.

That didn’t stop him from drumming his fingers against his leg at every red traffic light, though, or keeping up a quick walking pace because he needed to dump his nervous energy somewhere. By the time his phone signaled him the fifteen minutes were up, he had to orient himself for a minute because he’d walked to a part of town he didn’t immediately recognize. But he decided it wasn’t important where he was right now, and pulled up Astrid’s number again.

His mind conjured up an image of Cam with that Shia LaBeouf video he liked to play in every situation. Just do it! Yeah, Heather’s boyfriend was truly something.

“Just do it,” he mumbled, repeating the sentence seven times in a row before he finally pressed the call button.

It rang.

And rang.

And rang.

Twenty seconds later, it was still ringing, but he didn’t give up this time. Either she picked up or he reached her voicemail.

When the signal suddenly disappeared, his breath caught in his throat. But the voice that appeared was automatic, asking him to leave a message. So he did.

“Hey… It’s me. Hiccup. I- I don’t- I’m just calling because…” He took a deep breath. “I need to talk to you. We need to talk. About… About everything. Like, earlier, when you, you know, left – I probably don’t need to remind you. You said you needed to go home, and I know you meant home to Eret because I was at your parents’ house and you weren’t there, so. Um.” He sighed and ran a hand over his face. He should have just texted her. Then he could have carefully constructed a coherent message instead of this all-over-the-place rambling.

“Like I said, I really have to talk to you. There is something I need to tell you, something I should have told you a long time ago, but I can’t do this over the phone, that would be… Can- can you just call me back? I don’t know where you live and you didn’t say when you would be back or what you were up to, and you’re not answering your phone, obviously, so.” His legs were moving on autopilot, crossing streets, rounding corners. The motion was like water that kept the mill running, namely his sanity. If he stopped walking, he would stop talking.

“You know, maybe I should just get to the point. We- we need to talk about us. I- I don’t know if it’s just me, but I feel like there’s something between us and… And maybe I’m way off here and misinterpreting– No. No, I actually don’t think that it’s just me, because today, you almost kissed me. I almost kissed you. And I need to know why, I need to know where we stand with each other, because… Because…” His lips kept moving, but no sound came out. A truck drove by him and honked. Hiccup winced and a switch went off in his brain.

“I’m in love with you,” he blurted out and his heart stopped for a few beats. “I’ve been in love with you since I met you and- and there’s nothing I can do about it. Believe me, I tried. Remember when I showed up at your wedding and told you we shouldn’t be friends? Yeah, that worked out well.” An awkward laugh escaped him. “I don’t know what you want, either from me or- or from yourself, or your- your husband… But I want to get out of this limbo of trying to forget you and falling back under your spell every time you so much as look at me. It’s like… It’s like you dropped an anchor in me and the tide buried it deeper and deeper in the sand – if that even makes any sense, I just– I can’t go on like this. If there is any chance you feel the same, please call me back. If not, if you’re going to take my advice and resolve things with Eret, then I’m happy for you. But I can’t be your friend anymore. I… I need a clear answer from you.”

Abruptly, his feet grinded to a halt in the middle of the sidewalk. Tires screeched behind him and a biker angrily cursed at him, but he didn’t even register it. “I guess… With you going home so fast, you probably decided to patch things up with your husband, and I guess that’s my answer. Or maybe not, what do I know, my judgement can’t be trusted, I once thought I’d be able to get over you. Anyway, when you hear this– Oh fuck, do you even check your voicemails? Well, if you do, just… Call. Or text. Um… Yeah. Bye.”

He ended the call and sunk to the ground underneath a lamp post, ignoring the unpleasant feeling of rain and dirt dampening his butt. Only when something cold ran down his back, did he notice it was still raining. He’d been so absorbed in his message that he hadn’t even noticed he’d been holding the umbrella askew, and now his left arm was soaked, the hand holding his phone cold and stiff. When he got back to his feet, he accidentally knocked it against the post and the device went flying, landing in a nearby puddle.

“Fuck.” Before the next pedestrian could step on it, he scrambled to get it back, infinitely glad he’d bought the waterproof version. But when he wiped it on Snotlout’s jacket and took a closer look, he groaned. There was a large crack zigzagging over the screen, and on first inspection, it looked like it went deeper than the protection glass. He tried to unlock it, but it didn’t react to his touch anymore. “Fuck!”

Great, now he had to find a repair store that was still open in Berk on a Sunday evening. Hopefully, he would be able to still accept incoming calls… He cursed his clumsiness with vigor. This was so typical. When – if – she tried to reach him now, she wouldn’t be able to. Maybe she’d leave him a voicemail asking him to call her back and they would find themselves stuck in an endless, vicious cycle.

Where the hell had he ended up, anyway? It looked like he was in a suburb, but none of the streets looked familiar to him, and when he pulled out his phone to check his location, he groaned. Right, smartphone not available. But if he could find a bus stop, he could make his way back into the city. Or he could go back to the Hoffersons and ask for a ride. That wouldn’t be awkward at all.

After a while of walking around and finally asking a passing dog-walker for directions, he found a bus stop and quickly scanned the schedule. He’d made it to the end of the route of the only bus line that even came out here. And it being Sunday, he was just lucky that the next bus would be here in no less than 52 minutes, because he had, of course, just missed the previous one. He could walk back, but that would take just as long, and also his feet hurt. These shoes weren’t made for long walks through puddles. At least it had stopped raining.

So he waited. And waited. And played around with his stupid phone for a while, but it just wouldn’t magically work again, no matter how much he begged it to. After 50 minutes of waiting, it suddenly started buzzing – and his heart climbed into his throat when he saw the caller ID. He tapped the screen frantically, but it was to no avail. His last resort was to try the lock button and hope it would accept the call, but instead, it did the exact opposite. Absolutely fucking awesome, now she probably thought he’d declined her call on purpose. And where was the damn bus?!

The calls kept coming in, but there was nothing he could do except stare at his phone in resignation and jiggle his legs nervously because the bus wasn’t coming. Fifteen minutes and four awkward short conversations with passing strangers later, he embraced the fact that no one would lend him their phone for a very quick call, or a text, anything. There was no way he would wait around for another hour.

Grabbing his umbrella and starting the journey in the direction he hoped would lead him back home, he glanced suspiciously at the dark line of clouds on the horizon. The sunset was beautiful, though. If only he could enjoy it.

Soon enough, it was pouring again. And the calls stopped.

#httyd #hiccstrid #fanfiction #hiccup haddock #snotlout jorgenson #astrid hofferson #when lightning strikes #modern au #a bit of angst with a dash of drama #or the other way around #maja writes #ff #fanfic #how to train your dragon

[outroshooky]

no halo | kth

⇢ genre: oneshot (brief angst, fluff, smut) (exestolovers!au)

⇢ pairing: kim taehyung x reader, bestfriend!min yoongi x reader

⇢ word count: 5.3k

⇢ audio: brockhampton’s ginger album

⇢ warnings: brief angst (it’s exes to lovers, what do you expect), a smoking mention, some varied cursing; implied and explicit smut (soft!! body worship). there’s a happy ending, i promise.

⇢ a/n: i sat down at my laptop today, turned on no halo by brockhampton, and started writing. six hours later, i cannot believe that i managed to smash a brutal writer’s block by churning this out in literally one day. i hope that this is a bit of bright light for you, dear reader, in a time where nothing seems to be going your way. you will make it through no matter how messy or uncertain life seems to be, and you will come out on the other side all the more stronger for having survived it. 

Believe it or not, it’s the pair of battered red Converse slung over his shoulder that tips the whole thing over the edge.

It’s inexplicable. Perhaps it’s the memories attached to it, knotted and strung through metal rivets scuffed with night rides and hard asphalt. Tastes like cigarette smoke and ashen dreams wafting from the driver’s side window, but there’s something more bitter there. Heartbreak veins, like you’d expect them to pulse with anything but. They say love doesn’t last when it’s not built on something solid, but somehow, heady summer nights and network love aren’t enough to pass the time.

“What exactly do you think you’re doing with those?” It bites, thickened with venom. Somewhere far-off is a headboard banging, curses of those stupidly thin walls of the motel complex. 

“They’re mine,” Yoongi says. Which they are. Unfortunately. “I need them to like, go outside and stuff.”

“Fuck you,” you fire back.

“A ray of sunshine you are,” he remarks. “Any particular reason you feel like biting my head off in this shitty hotel room?”

The silence explains absolutely nothing. What he doesn’t know is that it’s not his fault. It’s right there in the middle of the dingy carpet, cracked and bleeding, privy to one and one alone. You’re too stubborn and he’s too good and here you find yourselves, locked at an impasse. He doesn’t know how good he is, how he’s patched your wounds up with wind in your hair and sand between your toes. He tries his best; it’s better than anything you would allow yourself, a luscious pleasure in such a stark world. So you settle for what you’ve got, and he shakes his head.

“You know you can come to me, right? About what’s on your mind?”

You finger the fraying tear in the bedspread, the cotton crumbling between your thumb and index.

“Look, I’m not good at this feelings thing and you know that. But you’re my friend, and I care about you, and I want to hear you out, okay? Whatever you’re thinking about. You’re not gonna hurt me; it’s not like I haven’t been through the ringer myself. You’re not so different, yeah?” Yoongi’s eyes search your own for acceptance. Defeat. Anything at all. “You’re not some kind of lost cause because one asshole in particular who shall not be named made you feel that way. Maybe it was two assholes. Whatever. Your worth isn’t dependent on their opinion of you.”

It feels like rambling but burns like an iron, sears through the darkness hovering over your consciousness, casting shadow. That thing twitches, bent and broken deep inside, staining down the bedsheets and spilling onto the beige carpet. He’s hit home, and Yoongi knows it when the defiance in your brow drains, floodwater evaporating against the creamy popcorn ceiling. He’ll forever hold that he doesn’t have a way with words; you’d kindly argue the opposite.

“I’m sorry, Yoon.” You look up at him for the first time since you’d woken up on opposite sides of the same bed. Something about childhood innocence preserves moments like those, in spite of years gone past since the last time you shared a bed like that. Nothing dirty about needing companionship in the form of a brother you’d had since you’d skipped stones down at the pond in grade school. He knows you intrinsically, like the scars that cross his knees and the freckles that dot his neck, no better and no less. “You deserve better than the way I’ve been treating you. Because you’re right, you know. But right now, it hurts.”

“Hurt doesn’t make you any less human. It’s a part of life. And it’s okay to hurt sometimes. Just don’t let it consume you till there’s nothing left.” He readjusts the shoes tied together by one string, sitting on the narrow angular of his shoulder. “Breakfast ends in an hour. I’ll grab you something and bring it back, and then we’ll figure out what to do next, yeah? I don’t have work till Tuesday, so we don’t have to be back for a few days more.” He pauses in the doorway. “Oh, and for the record, fuck Kim Taehyung. I’ll knock his teeth through his ass for the shit he put you through.”

The small smile you crack brings a toothy grin to his own visage. “Excellent advice.”

There’s a wry fondness dancing in the deep russet of his pupils, burning umber in the low light. “I try.”

Fuck Kim Taehyung. The exact advice you needed to hear, and the exact advice you decided to act upon, in exactly all of the wrong ways.

It’s the number that is stamped on your brain like a fifty-dollar tattoo— not necessarily the most tasteful, a pain in the ass to remove. Unfortunately, it is the tattoo that your thoughts like to trace with gentle fingers, rubbing at the lines, blurring the edges. Laser removal takes time and patience, but the contrary nestles in the form of stupid decisions and late-night mistakes. Like a dead battery on your Wrangler at 1am on the back streets, a useless cell phone, and three weeks of time to think.

Grief gave way to rage gave way to kindling coals of sadness, burning low but bright enough to light your way. Gone were your attempts to fan them back into the roaring bonfire those motel walls once contained, but here were your best efforts to cradle them close, nurture them that they might die out on their own, and most of them had. Moving on tasted ginger-sweet and minty-bitter, the chill in the air as the leaves tumbled and crunched underfoot, ignited with reds and yellows and everything in between. A summertime flame left for the autumn rain.

Pour the rain did, leaking rivulets down the windshield as you sat in the driver’s seat, staring at the dashboard. In times like these you’d call Yoongi, but he didn’t get off work till the morning and an impossibly timed dead zone did nothing to help your wireless suffering. Nighttime meant comfort for souls like yours, an escape into the quiet of dusk when everyone else sought the dreamy confines of sleep. Unfortunately, it meant that everyone else sought sleep while you were cursedly awake and stuck in the downpour. No place to go, no one to find.

You let your head fall forward and hit the steering wheel with a thunk. Fuck.

Knock knock.

It’s a glance to the left, out the driver’s side window that reveals a silhouette framed in darkness, wrapped in a thick coat, peering through the glass. Hand raised to brow and you can’t help the involuntarily yelp that leaves your mouth from the sheer proximity of the stranger. The figure flinches back in response, and you can’t help the immediate pang of worry. You can’t afford to miss a chance for help, but you also can’t roll down the window, and thus you’re opening the door and squinting into the rain as it blusters through the open gap. “Hello, I’m sorry, my cell phone isn’t working, is it possible for me to borrow yours so I could call somebody to pick me up?”

“Wait, what?” The stranger hunches slightly, peering through the watery onslaught. “Is that who I think it is?”

Oh god.

Oh god no.

The sheer absurdity of the situation isn’t lost on you, not like the way relief is wrapping that thick timbre around yourself like a familiar blanket. The irony of your car happening to die only a few blocks away from that little blue two-story, the coincidences of such a familiar stranger going out for a stroll in the middle of a fucking rainstorm. Of course he had to.

“Unfortunately,” you can’t help but grimace. “Taehyung, what the fuck are you doing out here in weather like this?”

You can hear the hint of a smile in his voice. It almost aches. “Are you saying this isn’t ideal weather to take a walk and enjoy the fresh air?”

“No,” you reply bluntly. Infuriatingly positive he is, always has been. “Ideal weather isn’t a fucking thunderstorm.”

“Mm.” The momentary quiet, save the rainfall, hints at what goes unsaid. “So what are you doing out here?”

You bristle. How to formulate a response that would not warrant help, but also warrant help? “I was out taking a late-night drive and stopped to take a break. I was getting drowsy and I prefer to be a responsible driver, so I pulled over to make sure I was awake enough to drive home.”

“What a considerate person you are!” Taehyung trills, and you’re almost positive it is completely unironic. “How are you feeling then? Do you think you’ll be able to drive home?”

“Uh, yeah. I’ll be fine.” A tight smile. Polite. It takes every ounce of will to not study him deeper, all of the curves and edges hidden snugly in the darkness. “Thanks.”

“Are you sure? It’s raining really hard as well; you won’t be able to see well even if you aren’t feeling drowsy.” There’s genuine concern in his tone, warmth bubbling from his throat like liquid sunshine. Maddening. But he’s right; he’s shining a bright light through the flimsy veil of your lies and you’re pinned. Even more maddening.

“Taehyung, it’s—” you clamp your mouth shut because in a slip of the tongue, you were that close to letting anger seep into your tone. That close to losing your stance as the better man, but the line of who exactly is the better man is smudged beyond sight in the downpour. You take a deep breath. Start again. “I don’t want to be a bother.”

Lightning flashes, jolting the clouds and cleaving them in two. The very world could be coming down in tatters around him and Taehyung wouldn’t think twice about being his everyday self, annoyingly cheery and maddeningly gentlemanly. You swear you see a flash of teeth, a boxy smile despite the water dripping from his umbrella, striking the pavement with an irregular heartbeat. Not your own, of course. “Nonsense! We can’t have you left out here to soak like this. Come on, you can drive us home!”

Oh my god, he certainly has not disappeared quicker than the very implication left his mouth. He is not shaking his head like a dog shedding wetness, nor opening the passenger’s side and hopping in, pausing to fold his umbrella in the gap before pulling the door neatly shut. You are not seated in your dead Wrangler with your ex-boyfriend at one-thirty in the morning in the middle of the very heavens coming apart with a religious fervor.

Taehyung brushes his wet hair out of his face, dribbling water down his cheeks. For all of your expectations, he looks no different than when you saw him last, standing on the curb with all the world’s joys flickering in his pretty almond eyes. The shadows cast his profile in a gaunter light, sweeping down the hollows of his jawline, his cheekbones; your fingers tighten around the door handle. Apparently, three weeks might not change much after all.

“Oh sorry, did I rush you?” He opts to ignore your blank-eyed stare of shock, reaching out to you before pausing, his hand outstretched to touch you. “I didn’t mean to rush you if you’re not ready to drive yet. We can sit here as long as you’d like! There’s no rush for me to be home. I just wanted to get out of the rain; it was starting to soak through my umbrella!”

For all of this, you can manage a brief: “Yeah.”

“Let me know when you’re ready to go!” The optimism in his voice is painful.

“Taehyung.”

“Yeah!”

“I lied.”

You don’t need to look at him to know the way his forehead will furrow. “What?”

“Gah!” You can’t help pinching your brow between two fingers. “I can’t fucking believe this—”

“Believe what?” Blinking doe-eyes, long lashes wet and thick in the dimness.

“Taehyung, my car battery died three blocks from your house and my cell phone isn’t working, and now I’m sitting here with my ex-boyfriend in the passenger’s seat and I have no fucking idea how I ended up here.” You sigh. “Do you not see the irony in this?”

He blatantly ignores the gesture towards the massive elephant basically perched on the center console. “No wonder your car is off! We’ll walk then.”

“Taehyung, please just make it easier for the both of us and l—”

It’s no use. Dear god. How you had ever put up with him, shared a bed with him is currently escaping you, but regardless of this, he is already out of the car as the words punctuate empty air. Weighing options is impossible when you have none to choose from.

“-use my phone to call somebody to pick you up!” The driver’s side door opens and he’s there, right there, not across the console or the bar or whatever. Right there. “Come on, we don’t have time to waste!”

“Kim Taehyung, for god’s sake, I am your ex-girlfriend!” The exclamatory stops him in his tracks. Finally. “Why are you helping me?”

The rain pours rivulets down his black slicker, drenching his hair and bunching along his shoulders and running down his arms. And yet, he brushes the water from his brow with a swipe of his thumb, peers at you, sneakered feet planted firmly in the asphalt. He raises a finger to the sky, smiles— not a half-smile, lopey and lop-sided, but a true grin, squared and gummy and full of wonder. “Ideal weather.”

“Kim Taehyung, you are absolutely ridiculous—”

“Ideal!”

“So let me get this straight,” Yoongi grits as you sit across from him, your frame molded into the plush of his second-hand loveseat. “Your car died on the back streets, coincidentally three blocks from Kim Taehyung’s house, who is— just to double check— the asshole who shredded your relationship, and he happened to be out for a walk in the rain and stumbled across you in your car, and offered to take you back to his house and let you stay there till morning until you could get me to pick you up?”

“Yes.”

“What the actual fuck.”

You gesture at him with your free hand, the other occupying a mug of steaming tea. “Join the club.”

“Just to double check, we’re talking about the same Kim Taehyung. The dude who you officially dated for a solid four months but fucked around with long before that. That guy, right? That Taehyung?”

You release a deep breath; the steam rising from your mug winds away. “Yes, it’s the same Kim Taehyung.”

Yoongi looks like he is about to spit nails. “I hope you took the chance to kick him in the balls.”

“Yoongi!”

“Just saying.”

“It could’ve been a lot worse, actually.” Your companion raises an eyebrow. “He gave me his umbrella when we walked back.”

“Ah yes, because giving you his umbrella once undoes six months of emotional damage—”

“Yoongi, chill. I did what I had to do—”

“Which is good, because survival skills are important.” He searches your face for any hint of something other than stoicism. Forgiveness, maybe. “And it doesn’t have to be any more than that.”

“I didn’t say it was,” you affirm. “But even if I don’t like him, I owe him credit where it’s due.”

Yoongi frowns. He knows not to push, but curiosity pecks his bones, nips his intuition. “For the third time— why didn’t you call me last night when you got back to his house?”

You sip at your tea. Flaxen sweet, mild on your tongue. “You were at work and I didn’t want to bother. Paying rent is more important than saving my sorry stranded ass.”

“You’re neglecting to mention the Kim Taehyung part.”

He rubs a fine nerve, one push too far. “Yoongi, what are you so worried about?” You sit up, place your mug on the fold-out table. “It’s not like I’m suddenly pining over him just because he happened to be there when I needed help. It’s not like I had any other options; I can handle myself. Taehyung and I broke up a month and a half ago; I’m not as… broken as I was before.”

It’s written on Yoongi’s face that he doesn’t like it, but protectiveness wins out over stubbornness. It always does when it comes to you. “I just don’t want you to get hurt again.”

You soften. “I know.”

The tension drains from his hunched figure. “I know you can handle yourself when it comes to people like him. But I also know how hard you cried over him in a shitty motel all those weeks ago.” The corner of his mouth twitches. “I don’t want you to feel like that again because of someone. Fool me twice, you know? You deserve better than that.”

Your eyes flick to his. Steady, warm, weighing justice by the tawny flecks that glint in the raven black of his irises. “I do. And I don’t doubt that. It won’t happen again.”

His own mug clacks as it meets the wooden tabletop. “You know, you never told me what exactly happened between you two that ended it. Like, I know the rough idea, but not play-by-play. If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine, but…” He trails off, leaving the gap.

“Ah.” A remark, neutral in sheen but bitter in taste. Like biting into the shell of a crisp apple, only to find that it’s not as sweet as once hoped it to be. “Sure.”

So Yoongi listens.

It’s strange how someone so vivid in nightmares, so seemingly real as the pen between your fingers or the breath in your lungs, can fade away so quickly by daybreak. Before you ran into Taehyung again (for better or for worse? For worse), he loomed as some larger-than-life figure in the back of your consciousness, spewing traumas and terrors like a river gully. But there he was in the passenger’s seat, no larger or smaller than before. Just Taehyung. Terrifying in premise, in rationality, on the contrary.

With that in mind, it was hard to not wonder if you had, perhaps, not given him credit where it was due. The Taehyung you met in the pouring rain was the same Taehyung whose hair you brushed sand from and temple you kissed and sides you pinched to get him to squeak when he laughed. Memories you tried to stuff away, filter through a new lens with every flicker in your mind, like a crackling film reel. But there he was, and here you were, and you weren’t quite sure who you were running from anymore.

Is it easy to run from someone who your lips know the taste of, fingers know the feel of? Is it easier to run from yourself when you strip away the miscommunications, aches and pains?

Yoongi knew the full story now. Terrifying to admit your fault, any measure of it, because you never liked to show him what being broken looked like. Some measure of personal freedom exercised, but with the wrong heart in mind, because he would never judge anything you had to say and instead, simply listen. He was always an older soul than you ever tried to be and he knew it, rugged wisdom at its finest. But ultimately, he only knew what he was told or taught, and there you were, spilling the unmangled truth to him on a Wednesday morning over two cups of chamomile tea. 

Coming to grasp with imperfections is part of the cursed struggle of being human, of embracing those little nicks and dashes that make us who we are. It does not mean we are loved any less, but loved because of them; none of us are angels. These messes are our measures, our faults and our pleasures. How terrifying it all is, being ourselves. Being raw and vulnerable and attacking those thoughts that weigh heavy on our consciousness, day after day.

And it is easy to wonder if you matter through all of this, through the chaos of that inner dialogue. It’s moments like these that put those perspectives into frame, click them like camera shutters pausing time to breathe and think. To look at the white-framed ink is to rewrite tangibility, printed blurry on those transparent rolls. Nothing is so unforgettable when it is angled just so.

In the evening, in the comforts of your apartment, you uncork a Polaroid from where it is hidden behind some cheery optimistic phrase you stole off of tumblr. Bullshit for the purpose it serves, painfully ironic for the task it demands. A picture of a boy with cherry-red hair and a boxy grin on his face, arms wrapped around you with all of the comforts and ease of home. There’s mirth in your eyes, sheer joy and laughter. No alcohol involved, just two people who found it easy to slip into each other’s company just-so. A jasper gem for you, polished to perfection and printed right underneath your fingertips.

Anxiety clenches at the base of your jaw, massages your throat with the cruelest intentions. You swallow it back.

The phone rings once.

Twice.

Crackles to life.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Taehyung?”

His voice melts through the receiver like buttery chocolate, smooth and warm. “You still have my phone number! Hello! I thought I’d never hear from you.”

“I-I’m sorry, what?” You blink in confusion, then shake your head. “Never mind.”

“I thought I’d never hear from you. That guy who picked you up didn’t seem to say much, but I figured you’d call eventually to say that you made it home safe. So I guess you did! And I’m glad.” You can hear Taehyung smiling through the phone, easy inflections of speech.

“Yeah.” You fidget, playing with the edge of your sleeve. Now or never. “Taehyung, I owe you an apology.”

This is the first time he falters, hints at something deeper. “What for?”

You take a deep breath. “You were kind to me. And I didn’t recognize it for what it was at the time, so I was a complete asshole to you. And I’m sorry for that. You didn’t deserve that.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it, it was the least I could do! Nobody deserves to be stuck in the pouring rain—”

“I’m not talking about the rainstorm.”

He stutters. “I-I’m sorry?”

“Taehyung.”

He’s quiet. It is terrifying.

“Taehyung, both of us know what I mean.”

You momentarily wonder if the line has gone dead. Perhaps it has. A saving grace, and then that deep timbre crackles to life on the other side. You nearly miss what he says.

“I want to hear you say it,” he whispers.

“You were kind to me,” you stutter. “Kind to me; so, so kind. And I didn’t recognize it for what it was w-when you gave it to me. And I was a complete asshole to you. I’m sorry.” You wait for something, anything, but he gives no intention, and you continue. “Taehyung, you were the best thing that ever happened to me, and I was so terrified that I stuffed it away into some far-off corner and tried to pretend that it wasn’t happening. I turned so much outward onto you that you didn’t deserve because I didn’t know how to be good enough for someone like you. I took you for granted, Taehyung, the exact opposite of everything I should have done. You glow like the literal fucking sun, and I’m a little cloud drifting through the sky. I should’ve let you shine through me, but instead, I just blocked you out. And I’m sorry,” you confess, the tension in your shoulders collapsing. “I’m sorry.”

For the first time in weeks you wish you could see him in front of you, gauge his reactions like barometric pressure, but instead he’s across town and you are here, feeling ever-so-small in spite of yourself. It was easy to read what he was thinking, painted across his face in swaths of joy and sadness and everything in between, but here, he gave away nothing. 

Please say something, Taehyung. Please say anything.

“Ideal weather,” he murmurs.

“W-What?”

“A sun without clouds in the sky shines blindingly. Clouds temper all that light; certainly we don’t need all of it.” It sounds so cheesy, some Shakespearean verse he quotes from off the top of his head, but it is the closest thing he’ll phrase to acceptance, and you swallow down a relieved sob. He calls you by name then, lets it ring warm and sweet, the way he used to say it. With life, energy, everything it lacked simply because it rang from all the wrong mouths till then. “Everything happens for a reason. You did the best you could. It just didn’t work out at the time.”

“Taehyung, it’s okay to blame me. It’s okay to say that I was the one who fucked it all up, not you. For god’s sakes, you never did anything wrong. It was always my insecurity, my mistakes—”

“You’re only human. You did the best that you could, just as I did. Who could blame you for that?” Taehyung’s words seep heat into your bones, calm your trembling fingers. “I couldn’t. Nobody could. I certainly don’t think any less of you for it. None of us are angels; we did our best with what we had. And that’s alright.”

You can’t help but laugh, dry, monosyllabic. “You handled this so much remarkably better than I did, god.”

He’s breathy with amusement. “It took a little while.”

“I could imagine.”

He hums. “Is there anything else you want to talk about?”

Your index finger finds the edges of the instant photo. His smile catches in the light of your desk lap. “There’s another reason I called.”

“That wasn’t it?”

“Believe it or not, no.” You trace his shoulders, the planes of his chest. “I just wanted to say. I have a Polaroid of us from July, from that bonfire that Jeongguk had with like fifty people down at the beach. I kept it, selfishly. It’s been pinned up on my bulletin board behind another piece of paper. But I took it out today. And I think I might pin it up in front now.”

“Oh, the cherry red hair.” The fondness seeps through the receiver. “I loved that night.”

“Me too,” you admit. A beat of silence. “Goodnight, Taehyung. Thank you.”

“Oh, you’re hanging up already?”

“What?” You nearly sputter.

“I haven’t gotten to talk about the Polaroids I kept, too.”

There are two ways to fundamentally seduce Kim Taehyung: make his coffee exactly how he likes it, or play with his hair while he’s lying on your chest. Both of which you achieved, and both of which led to your current predicament.

But we’ll rewind a bit.

That phone call, the first of many, lasted into the early hours of the morning, that sacred time that you both hold dear. It tasted like nostalgia and fondness, feelings you corked and bottled out of fear of what might lie on the other side. But in this case, the other side was a friend and more, a living history book for all of the cracks in between. And he simply adored filling them in.

That lazy afternoon where you planned on having a date at the park, but it had poured rain nearly as intense as the day you reconnected with him. You danced in between the raindrops instead, bare feet on the gravely asphalt, wishing you could touch heaven and so you kissed the boy whose cheeks were between your palms. The spontaneous road trip you took to the next big city over, five hours away, simply because for the first time in so long, you had nowhere to be but with each other. Hands held between library shelves, firelight’s glow on faces untouched. Sharing a tuft of blue cotton candy with sticky fingers, talking about everything and nothing under the moonlit, cloudless sky. For every instant photo saved were memories tenfold that he plucked from that mind of his like stars placed in the breadth of the cosmos.

One phone call became two, became four. Became texting over a break at work, FaceTiming over dinner. Became meeting each other for a late breakfast, studying at the cafe for an early afternoon cup of espresso. Depth and understanding, and Taehyung is slotting into your life without a second thought, as easily as you’re slipping into his. You let him this time, so much smoother than before. You want him to.

Neither of you can deny what it is happening, but neither of you can find a complaint to lodge. So when he asks you out, fingers entwined over the metal arm of the park bench, a bouquet of sunflowers tucked next to you, he already knows what your answer will be.

Indeed, there are two fundamental ways to seduce Kim Taehyung, and as a master of both of them, it is only a matter of time before you find yourselves at the foot of your bed; he pulls you closer to press his lips to your own. He tastes like cappuccino and chocolate and you’re humming into the kiss, shuddering underneath him. He still knows your body, every divet, every edge. He never stopped loving it— never stopped loving you.

He worships the way he loves— selflessly, giving every ounce of himself without abandon or question. When he eases himself between your thighs, the look in his eyes is nothing short of sinful adoration, seeking out every secret to your pleasure. It’s ingrained in his memory, the way you gasp or grab his hair when his fingers dance along your skin; he couldn’t forget it even if he tried. It is worth every wince as your digits tug at his scalp; he swallows down everything you give him and begs for more, more, more.

And likewise you lavish him, devoting minutes to dot his heaving ribs with kisses, stroking comforting palms down his sinewy thighs. Taehyung is every work of art you have wanted to see in a museum, living, breathing, merely mortal but so much more. So vibrant, so raw.

And afterwards you lie together, unable to tell where he begins and you end. Breathing in the heat, piecing each other together in the silent din. Clothes are tossed about the room; you can’t find it in you to care. You turn to him, caress his cheek, run a thumb over his lips. “Stay here tonight. Please.”

He smiles and your thumb brushes his teeth, boxy and exposed through the gap of his grin. “Was the overnight bag not enough?”

“How did I not notice you packed an overnight bag?” You sit up, wrapping the blankets around your torso, scanning the room to spot his duffel.

He pushes himself up on his elbows, wraps himself around you like a human koala. “I’m very good at being sneaky.”

“Mm, I noticed.” There it is, against your dresser. Your heart swells, fit to burst.

“Come to bed,” Taehyung hums, gritty, a little seductive. It sends a chill down your spine. You don’t think it’s meant to. Your fingers find his own and knit together over his knuckles.

“I’m right here, sunshine.”

He kisses behind your ear, the gentlest of intentions. “I love you,” he whispers. “Come to bed.”

You squeeze over his hand. Everything left unsaid, in the space of a breath. Two. “I love you too,” you whisper. “And I will always be here, loving you, with everything I could possibly give you. Every ounce of my heart. I love you.” 

He squeezes back, wraps the blanket around your frame, tucks you in tight. He kisses your shoulder with lips of silk, and you roll on your side to get comfortable, his arm draped over your waist. 

Against the far wall, propped up on his duffel, lies a pair of Converse sneakers, as scuffed and beaten as they were saturated with rain, on the day you fell in love with Kim Taehyung all over again.

#btswritersnet #bts #bts fluff #bts smut #taehyung fluff #taehyung smut #kpop fluff #kpop smut #exes to lovers au #outroshooky

[moonb-eam]

could you do no. 7: “I almost lost you.” from the list?

hello. yes. i can definitely do that 💛✨

(i am still slowly completing what’s left of these ship starters, i think i’ve got three more in my inbox??)

i’ve been having a hard time sleeping lately, and whenever i can’t sleep, i listen to thunderstorm sounds. thus, had to write fic with a thunderstorm. (as in, had to write a sappy, over-emotional fic because....what else am i gonna do)

i really hope you like it, anon!! ✨✨✨

no. 7 “I almost lost you.”

Lucas wakes to the distant rumble of thunder.

It’s not that he doesn’t like thunderstorms. He does, he just likes them the most when he spends them wrapped up with Eliott, a tangle of limbs underneath a soft duvet, whispered secrets and drooping eyelids, lingering kisses pressed to cheeks, foreheads, lips.

He reaches out for him, for Eliott, fingers seeking warm skin, long, bony limbs, but his hand lands on flat, cool sheets.

Lucas is still waking up, still shaking off a dream where he and Eliott were meteors, chasing each other around Saturn, so his head is filled with the thick air of space and it takes a second for him to get it, for his fingers to curl into the mattress and to feel it barely give, for him to recognize the absence.

He rolls himself over to Eliott’s side of the bed, buries his face in the pillow and sighs. His inhale smells like Eliott.

He reaches out and touches the home button on his phone, sees that it’s only a bit after two in the morning.

They had gone to sleep early that night, exhausted from a day out in the humid summer air with the boys, exhausted from the three rounds of sweaty sex they had when they got back to the coloc. After an icy shower Lucas had fallen asleep spooning up behind Eliott’s back, lips pressed to the nape of his neck.

He’d been drunk on sunshine and heat and love and orgasms and he’d said, Hey. Eliott. Eliott. Did you know that you’re the love of my life?

What had Eliott said? Something like, Go to sleep, Lucas.

Now, Lucas throws back the duvet and stands, wearing nothing but his boxers, toes wriggling against the cool wood floor. Outside, it’s pouring, a rain that makes him think of a black and white detective film Eliott had made him watch last week. Heavy drops spilling down the brims of fedoras. Soaking the shoulders of trench coats. 

More thunder rumbles overhead.

Arthur had predicted it, when they’d been at the park earlier, standing on the edge of the water with his hands on his hips staring out into the middle distance like a character from a Jules Verne novel.

It’s going to thunderstorm tonight. I bet you anything.

How the hell do you know? Basile asked.

Eliott had leaned over to where Lucas was lying on his back, blocking the sun out with his face. Lucas squinted up at him.

Did you hear that? Eliott said. A thunderstorm. I love thunderstorms.

Lucas snorted. I know you do.

Do you know why? Eliott asked.

Lucas shrugged.

They’re romantic, Eliott said, leaning down far enough that he could push Lucas’s sunglasses off of his face, far enough that he could press their lips together. 

Lucas walks out of the bedroom quietly, into the dark, silent flat. There’s no noise from Lisa’s room and Mika’s shoes are missing. Still at that party, then. Or maybe he crashed somewhere else because of the storm.

Eliott isn’t in the kitchen, isn’t in the bathroom, and Lucas is trying not to let himself panic, trying to calmly wonder if there were any signs of hypomania earlier that day. He’s no expert, but he’s gotten better at noticing, especially with Eliott being open with him, helping him.

He wracks his brain, but comes up with nothing.

He tries not to think about Eliott running through the soaked, lightning-lit streets naked. Tries not to think about going out to find him.

He enters the kitchen and there, it’s such a wave of relief inside of Lucas’s body it’s palpable, from the top of his head to the soles of his feet.

Eliott.

He’s sitting on the living room windowsill, the one that leads out onto to the wrought iron fire escape. His back is to Lucas, bare and wide, half in the darkness of the flat, half in the faint light from outside, the grey-blue-black of a thunderstorm night.

Lucas takes a few tentative steps towards him, makes sure to step on the floorboards that creak the loudest, not wanting to surprise Eliott. Not wanting to scare him.

A flash of lightning erupts in the thick cloud cover, washes enough light over Eliott that Lucas can make out the notches of his spine, one, two, three, four, five… Lucas wants to kiss them.

Instead, he whispers, “Eliott,” and gently reaches his hands out, rests them on Eliott’s back. 

There’s a moment where neither of them say anything, a moment where it seems like Eliott is holding himself up, stiff, but then he sighs, his shoulders deflate. “Lucas,” he murmurs, and Lucas slides his hands to Eliott’s chest, wraps his arms around him, and presses his mouth to the highest notch of his spine.

“Hi,” he says, can’t resist giving a little kiss to the notch. “Can’t sleep?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.” Another little kiss. “I can make you tea if you want.”

“No.” Eliott’s voice is faint, a bit distant, and Lucas takes it as an introspective mood, takes it as Eliott wanting to be left alone.

“Alright,” he says lightly, easily, “I’m going back to bed.”

He’s pulling his arms back but Eliott reaches up, fast, grips onto Lucas’s hands.

“Can you stay?” Lucas doesn’t say anything so Eliott prompts, “Please?”

“Sure.” Lucas squeezes Eliott’s hands. “Sure. But if I’m staying I want tea.”

He does make himself tea, comes back wearing Eliott’s hoodie, the zip open against his bare chest, carrying two mugs with clouds of steam wafting out.

“Only if you change your mind,” Lucas says, placing the second mug down on the floor near the window sill. “It’s Lisa’s. Chamomile.”

Lucas sits down on the sill as well, back against the frame, legs hanging into the living room. Outside, the streetlights are pale dots of orange between sheets of rain, the trees swaying against water and wind. Lucas watches as two girls sprint down the street, barefoot, both of them carrying their shoes and shrieking, laughing. 

Another streak of lightning. Thunder follows.

Lucas blows on his tea.

He thinks he can hear jazz playing from somewhere, someone’s apartment window open to the night storm, rain spilling in and music spilling out. 

“Do you hear that?” He asks Eliott. “The music?”

Eliott doesn’t say anything so Lucas continues.

“There must be some people dancing, somewhere. Huh. That’s kinda nice, actually.”

Eliott still says nothing, but Lucas catches the corner of a smile, and it makes him smile in turn, down into his tea.

They sit there in silence for Lucas doesn’t know how long, listening to the storm, watching the occasional pedestrian down below battle the elements. Eliott picks up his tea and takes a sip, and Lucas tries not to show how smug he is.

Eventually, though, eventually Lucas wants to say something. Just. Something.

He gently pokes Eliott’s knee, at the side, where it’s hinging at the edge of the sill. “Hey,” he says. “Eliott.”

Eliott doesn’t look over but Lucas knows he’s listening.

“If there’s something going on, you can tell me. I mean, I know you know that, and I also know you know that you don’t have to tell me. You can keep it private if you want. I just…wanted to remind you, I guess, and I want you to tell me if I’ve done something wrong, or if I’m doing something wrong, you know? I’d rather know than make a mistake. I almost lost you, before, because of that.”

The words are out before Lucas even registers them, caught up in the simultaneous stillness and chaos inherent with every thunderstorm. He knows he means the words—he fears fucking up and losing Eliott more than pretty much anything—but he didn’t mean to say them, especially when Eliott may or may not be in a sensitive state.

Eliott’s head whips up, eyes wide on Lucas’s face. “What?”

Lucas waves his free hand at him. “No, I’m sorry, forget I said that last bit, we don’t need to think about that—”

“When did you almost lose me?”

Lucas blinks. His mug is cooling down, losing its heat between the rain-soaked air and Lucas’s icy hands. 

“Well, when…” Lucas really doesn’t want to get into this, but Eliott is looking at him like he desperately needs to know the answer, so he says, “When I said that thing to you, about mentally ill people? About my mom? That. I said something that really hurt you without realizing it. Something ignorant. Something mean.” He tries on a shrug but it doesn’t fit, a jacket three sizes too big, too loose for how tight his chest feels. “I just never want to do that again.”

“You never lost me.”

The sentence hangs between them, gets washed away down the fire escape with the rain until it hits the pavement, swirls into a drain.

It’s Lucas’s turn to say, “What?”

“Never,” Eliott says. “I was always yours, from the very first second I saw you. I didn’t think you were mine.” Eliott has a weird look on his face that Lucas can’t decipher. It makes him nervous. “Lucas, it was me who almost lost you. I almost lost you because I lied to you, because I put you in danger.”

“Eliott, please, I was never in—”

“I did lose you, didn’t I?”

A boom of thunder rolls through, so loud it makes Lucas startle, makes what’s left of his tea slosh precariously close to the edges of the mug.

He turns back to Eliott but he’s not looking at Lucas anymore. He’s staring down, frowning.

“Eliott,” Lucas says gently, “I didn’t mean to bring all of that up, okay? I’m so sorry. But you have to know you never lost me either.” He pokes at Eliott’s knee again, needs Eliott to look at him. “I’ve always been yours too.”

“I was thinking about it,” Eliott blurts out, knee twitching under Lucas’s touch. He sets his mug down on the ledge, runs his hands through his hair, over his face. “I was thinking about it all day yesterday, something that Yann said about you getting drunk on a Sunday. After that night.”

Lucas feels his cheeks flush. “Alright, I’m not proud of—”

“No.” Eliott shakes his head. “It made me so upset, because I did that to you. I made you hurt that much. And then, I…you told me I’m the love of your life, and I thought, how can he love me like this when I’ve hurt him so much?”

“Oh, Eliott—”

“I woke up because of something, I don’t even remember what, and you were right next to me, looking completely perfect, beautiful like a painting like a fucking dream and I couldn’t understand it.” Eliott’s eyes trail down the street, dance across any still-lit windows. “I couldn’t understand how I can still have you when I’ve made you feel like that. Like you have to get drunk to forget me.”

“Baby,” Lucas sets his own mug down and reaches for Eliott’s hands, twines their fingers together, “we hurt each other. And it was awful, but we don’t do that anymore. I got drunk. I made that choice. I was sad, we both were, but now we’re healing, right? Now we take things minute by minute and we talk to one another. Please don’t be cruel to yourself for something that happened in the past, something that we’re fixing.” Lucas takes a breath. “Please don’t tell yourself you don’t deserve this. That scares me.” 

He squeezes Eliott’s hands. Eliott nods, once. 

“I’m sorry,” Eliott whispers. “I never want to scare you.”

“I know that. But you do when you act like we don’t have a chance.”

“Okay,” Eliott says. Lucas can see his breaths evening out, ribs expanding and contracting gently. “Okay. You’re right. I’m sorry.” 

“Stop apologizing.” Lucas smiles when he says it, heart warm and light when Eliott smiles back.

Eliott lifts their joined hands to his mouth, gently kisses Lucas’s knuckles. “Your hands are so cold,” he murmurs against the skin. He kisses them again. “You’re the love of my life. I didn’t say it back before, because I was too…in my own head. But it bothered me that I didn’t say it back.”

Lucas giggles, full of summer air and relief. “Sap,” he says, but it’s coupled with him stretching his legs across Eliott’s lap, moving his mug down to the floor.

Eliott detangles their fingers to run a hand up Lucas’s thigh. “Thank you,” he says softly, slowly trailing the hand back down. His touch leaves goosebumps behind. “Thank you for putting up with me.”

Lucas shivers, wraps Eliott’s hoodie tighter around himself. “You have to put up with me,” he reminds Eliott, half-teasing and half-serious.

One of Eliott’s hands slides behind Lucas’s knee, gently lifts it while he bends down. “That’s not hard to do,” he says, voice soft and honey-sweet, pressing a kiss to Lucas’s knee. He nuzzles his face a bit higher, kisses where knee meets inner thigh, breath warm against his skin. “I’m in love with you.” Another kiss, a little higher. Another breath. “Fuck, I’m so in love with you.”

Lucas exhales shakily, runs a hand through Eliott’s hair. “I’m in love with you too. Eliott, we’ll keep talking to each other. We’ll keep being honest. That’s what will be the difference between what happened before, and what’s happening now.”

“Yeah.” Eliott presses another kiss to his thigh and straightens up. There’s another rumble of thunder in the sky and the rain is still pounding onto the street, and Lucas can still hear the jazz music playing. 

They’re both silent for a beat, staring at each other, eyes dark and mouths curled into soft smiles. Smiles that say, you’re here, smiles that say, I’m here, smiles that say, stay with me.

“Do you want to dance?” Eliott asks. “Like those people you were talking about.” He taps his fingers against Lucas’s legs, completely off-rhythm from the music. “I’ll dance with you.”

Lucas shakes his head. “Nah.” He gently runs his index finger down Eliott’s nose, all the way to his lips. “I’m fine to sit here with you.” Eliott’s lips purse against his finger in a kiss. Lucas lowers his voice to a whisper. “Also, you’re a terrible dancer."

Eliott grins, wide and lopsided, and his teeth bump up against Lucas’s hand. “Do you know why I like thunderstorms?”

Lucas’s finger travels down to Eliott’s chest, traces nonsensical patterns over his heart. “Because they’re romantic?”

“Because they remind me of you.”

A startled laugh. “Yeah? How’s that?”

“You know, when the city is so hot, it’s claustrophobic, and everyone is praying for a thunderstorm to break the humidity, and then it comes, fresh air and all of Paris exhales and it’s like we can all move again, we’re human again. And that’s what you’ve always been like, for me. You’re that thunderstorm.”

#prompts #anon #elu fic #fic tag #today in natasha’s fics....emotions.....in a thunderstorm #asdfjk #thank you anon!!!

[nickireadstfc]

The Foxhole Court, Chapter 8 – The Hangover: Neil Josten Edition

In which Neil has a hangover that could kill a man, attempts to actually kill a few men (read: the monsters), Wymack is still the best person alive, and Andreil engage in some Totally Straight Bro Time™.

Sounds good? Then it’s time for Nicki to read The Foxhole Court.

So, last chapter was a train wreck. I’ve had lots of you coming up to me trying to restore Andrew’s honour and telling me it wasn’t all his fault, but still. The monsters have lost some serious sympathy points in my books.

(I’ve also been told it gets worse, which, might I add, is not reassuring what the hell.)

Let’s get crackin’ and see if our boy Neil is still alive.

           As soon as Neil could breathe again, he twisted and shoved Nicky as hard as he could. He was too sick and weak to push Nicky off the other side of the bed, but the boots he was still wearing would leave bruises on Nicky’s arms and chest.

Alive and kicking, pun absolutely intended.

Also, GOOD. Hit that fucker.

My initial love for Nicky is going through a serious dilemma right now, by the way. On one hand, he’s still the comic relief, which I love, he’s funny and loud and a much-needed ray of sunshine in this otherwise pretty depressing monster squad. On the other hand, he does not seem to understand consent, which goes against every principle I have.

He might have to settle as the Problematic Fave. We’ll see.

           “Hey, hey,” Nicky said, trying to deflect him. “It’s fine. Ouch! Relax, will you?”

           “Don’t you fucking touch me,” Neil said savagely.

I have a strong feeling Neil says everything savagely. That’s like saying Andrew said something murderously, Seth said something angrily, or Renee said something gently and glitter rained down from the sky, the sun bursts through the clouds and angels sang of everything good in this world.

It’s like, duh, that’s how they function.

           “He’s awake?” someone asked from the door.

           Neil snatched the alarm clock up and hurled it at the new arrival, who ducked out of the way just in time.

Attempted Kill Count: II.

Aaron and Nicky try to make him feel better by offering him water and food, and carrying him since he can hardly stand due to his Massive Cracker Dust Hangover, an act of niceness that I am totally not buying.

You drug him and were planning to do God knows what with him if he hadn’t had himself knocked out in time, and now you’re trying to play good Samaritan? Y’all can exit stage left.

           “Drink up,” Nicky said. “You’ll need all the water you can get today. Crackers’ll dehydrate you like nobody’s business.”

           Neil answered by upending his glass on the floor.

           “That’s mature,” Aaron said.

           Neil threw the glass at him.

Attempted Kill Count: III. Neil is on a roll today.

Neil, smart runaway that he is, does not buy the monsters’ Samaritan act either and instead does what I’d advised Nicky and Aaron to do: Exit stage left, that is to say, he gets the fuck out of there.

As soon as he’s in the vicinity of a payphone, he calls Matt and the other not-entirely insane people on this team, which is pretty much the only sensible thing to do in this kind of fuckery.

           “I’m in Columbia with Andrew.“

           “You’re – what?” Matt went from half-asleep to wide awake in a heartbeat. The alarm in his voice only made Neil feel worse. “Jesus, Neil, what the hell did you do that for? Did he–“ Matt aborted that and asked again, “Are you all right?”

           “I’m fine,” Neil lied.

The fact that this is alarming news to Matt and the gang is fucking alarming news to me. Please don’t tell me this is what happened to Matt last year. Please.

Also, Neil “I’m fine” Josten strikes again.

I am instantly proven right as we find out that yes, this is exactly what happened to Matt last year. Poor Billie Joe. You just rose so much in my sympathy ranks. <3

Neil truck-hitchhikes home which we are skipping because it is, frankly, it’s not that interesting. However, as he gets home, it is time for my undisputed fave to appear again:

           Neil wasn’t quite ready to face Andrew yet and he didn’t want to deal with his teammates’ curiosity over his prolonged absence, so he went to Wymack’s apartment instead.

Clearly, Wymack is the solution to everything. Glad my boy Neil and I are on the same page here.

           “You should have called me,” Wymack said. “Me or Abby or any of the upperclassmen. All you had to do was say you didn’t want to stay with Andrew. Any of us would have come and gotten you.”

           Neil stared at him, to startled to respond.

Hello, and welcome to our popular show Neil Doesn’t Realize People Actually Care About Him, episode 1 of a billion.

Wymack apparently has some strong feelings about Andrew and Neil not killing each other entirely, which is why he calls down Andrew for some Quality Bro Time™ with his bf Neil – in typical Wymack-y manner.

           Neil heard [Wymack’s] furious voice loud and clear.

           “You have five seconds to get your retarded psycho ass to my apartment! You even think about telling me no and I swear to god I’ll throw Kevin’s contract down a garbage disposal.”

My dude, maybe think twice about using the R-word. Otherwise, what level of i c o n i c. #dicksoutforwymack

Andrew, miraculously, follows that kind invitation instantly, and this is where stuff gets good.

           “Have a nice stroll?” he asked, interrupting Wymack’s tirade.

           Neil returned his cold stare with a heated “Fuck you.”

           Wymack snapped his fingers in front of Andrew’s face, trying to get Andrew to look at him instead of Neil.

Tough luck, buddy, have fun prying those two apart. The fuckers even switch to goddamned German to have some private one-on-one time, ahem.

Pity Neil has to reveal his secret language superpowers so early in the game, though. I was waiting for the epic moment where Neil chimes into a Kevin/Andrew/Nicky conversation in fluent German just to deliver a savage burn.

           “How about I start with your parents?”

           “Good luck,” Neil said, feeling cold all over. “They’re dead.”

           “Did you kill them?”

           He said it so casually, like he was asking for the time, that Neil could only stare at him for a minute. (…) Then he remembered who he was talking to and asked, “Did you kill yours?”

What the fuck, you guys. How is this even a conversation they’re having. Who on earth just asks stuff like that.

           The twins didn’t know who their father was, and only Aaron grew up with their biological mother. Andrew was surrendered to foster care when he was just a few days old.

Oh. In hindsight, this explains why Andrew referred to their mother as “Aaron’s mother” before, but more importantly: What the fuck, why.

Who does that to a child, heck, who does that to a baby. Surely it’s gotta be healthier for twins to stay with each other? What the hell, Minyards.

Also, how did they pick which twin to keep and which one to give away? Like, “oh, this one looks much nicer, this one looks less like it wants to murder you as soon as you threaten its favourite rattle, better take this one and chuck the other one in the realms of Out Of Sight, Out Of Mind”.

What the actual why.

Did I say this was where stuff got good? We’re not done yet, ho boy. This is where stuff gets really good:

           “I didn’t kill my parents,” Neil said. (…) “Riko’s family did.”

OH SHIT OH SHIT HE’S TELLING HIM STUFF OH SHITTTTTTTTTTTT.

What follows may be the first real, pure, top-of-the-line Andreil scene we get to witness. Granted, Neil only gives Andrew the half-truth, leaving out some key details, but essentially, he pours his heart out in front of him. And I don’t only mean the whole factual side of things, but also stuff like “I’m too jealous of Kevin to stay away from him” and “He’s got you at his back telling him everything’s going to be okay” which I wish I’d made up as examples except those are actual quotes from the book.

And, might I add, not only is he confessing that stuff to one of his mortal enemies right now, he is also confessing that stuff for the first time ever to anyone at all.

I’m dead.

           Andrew reached up and forcibly uncurled Neil’s fingers from his mouth. He pushed Neil’s hand out of the way and stared Neil down with nothing between them. Neil didn’t understand the look on his face. There was no censure over Neil’s crooked parents or pity for their deaths, no triumph over having backed Neil into admitting so much, and no obvious scepticism for such an outlandish story. Whatever this look was, it was dark and intense enough to swallow Neil whole.

           “Let me stay,” Neil said quietly. “I’m not ready to give this up yet.”

Did I say I was dead? I just got fucking reanimated, lived a brief period of happiness, and died again.

WHAT LEVEL OF GAY SHIT. I know it gets even better later, [frieza voice] this isn’t even their final form, but I can’t help but be happy at the first glimpses of canon Andreil.

I am LIVING.

           Maybe Andrew’s night out in Columbia had been awful, and maybe he’d never want to say these things out loud, but having the air cleared between him and Andrew to some degree took an enormous weight of his chest.

Fsshgshsgdsjgjscjjs.

My sad baby boy Neil gets some peace and relief and breathing room I cannot believe.

           Andrew didn’t look at Wymack. “Neil wants to come with me.”

           A day ago, those words might have been an order or a threat, but today Neil heard only truth. He’d chosen the Foxes. He’d chosen to trust Andrew, whatever that meant and whatever consequences it brought down the road. There was no reason or need to hide behind Wymack now.

Are y’all seeing what I’m seeing………… are those…….. first traces of friendship and peace……….. w h a t

As much friendship and peace as you can get with the messed-up murder maniac, at least.

I’m so happy, you guys.

This does not make up for the problems of last chapter (especially my boy Nicky and I still have a bone to pick), but it makes me tentatively look towards an eventually positive future for our angry  babies.

           Hope was a dangerous, disquieting thing, but he thought perhaps he liked it.

Couldn’t have said it better.

#tfc #the foxhole court #the raven king #the kings men #nora sakavic #nicki reads tfc #it's the return of dicksoutforwymack!! #dicksoutforwymack #edit: edited the parts where I used the m word as I realized it was Not Fucking Okay

[ezzydean]

Eternal Gardens

Seijoh4Week

Day 1: stormy weather/long distance

apparently I am doing a retail au of sorts.  enjoy?

rated like T for language and flirty implications

Eternal Gardens Strip Mall.  Your one stop shopping place for all your needs.  The best strip mall this side of the river.  Which river, none of them are sure.  Nor are they sure what exactly is supposed to be on the other side of the river.  But it’s probably better that way.  Greener grass and all that; no matter how much the worn signs around the various shops tried to tell you different.

Right then Issei didn’t really give a shit about the mall or its unique glass roofed courtyard in the center of the strip or the random possibly fictional river or the blossoming trees or the dull sunshine coming through the large front windows of Oaky’s Discount Goods and blinding him.  He was not a morning person, hence his requests for the evening shifts, not this awake at the buttcrack of dawn bullshit.  But, apparently, the scheduled worker couldn’t make it because of an emergency.  Also apparently they forgot that they had added Issei on Snapchat therefore he can see exactly what emergency they seem to be having at the waterpark downtown.  But, Issei thinks as he swigs another mouthful of coffee from his extra large travel mug, that’s not really his concern.

His current concern is making it through the next twelve hours because he was now the only person scheduled today and their manager, or lack of one really, only cared that the store was open, not so much about whether or not the guy working the register knew jack shit about receiving and stocking new shipments or if he got a break.

As he smiles politely at the fifteenth person that hour - he’s not exaggerating he’s been counting - to remark on the nasty storm on its way he wonders just when this “quiet morning” his boss promised him is supposed to start seeing as how it is almost noon and he’s never seen this many people inside this shop before.  He regrets answering his phone last night.

“Well hello there my ray of sunshine.”

“No.”

“Rude.”  Hanamaki props his hip on the counter and rustles a bag in Issei’s face.  “And here I brought you sustenance.”

Issei eyes the bag suspiciously.  It’s from Witchy Delights and he’s pretty sure Iwaizumi is working today so its most likely his favorite sandwich made just the way he likes it.  Then again it could also be half a cookie and the butt ends of Hanamaki’s favorite sandwich waiting to disappoint him.  Again.  But hey.  Third time’s the charm.  Or something like that, right?

“Please note that I am suspicious but also too tired and hungry to care.”

“Suspicion noted.”  Hanamaki glances out the window and Issei stops him before he can even open his mouth.

“Yeah I know.  The weather sure looks bad.  Hope it doesn’t get too nasty.  Lots of rain.  Evil clouds.  Lightning ripping through the sky and starting the entire world on fire.  Whatever.  It’s a storm.”

“Someone woke up on the wrong side of bed this morning.”

“One: I had to wake up before it was even morning fuck you.  Two: you would know seeing as how someone stole all my blankets and nearly kicked me out of bed.  Three: don’t try to blame Oikawa he was up before I was that asshole.”

“You know you should be nicer to me.  I brought you your favorite sandwich from our favorite sandwich maker and I brought you this.”

Hanamaki whips his phone out of his pocket and nearly shoves it in Issei’s face.  Issei nearly chokes on his sandwich - yes he’s eating at the register, no he doesn’t give a rat’s ass right now his boss can fire him if he wants to Issei’s the one pulling a double shift today thank you very much like - at the sight of Iwaizumi in a frilly pink apron wearing a panda bear ear headband with panda face paint.  He looks out the window longingly like he can maybe see the other end of the strip mall where Witchy Delights is located and see this magnificent sight in person.  He can make it there in five seconds.  Hanamaki timed him once.  Iris Prawn Shop was right next to Witchy Delights on the opposite end of the strip from Oaky’s and Hanamaki had clocked him at 4.8 seconds from one end to the other, including the time lost while he fumbled with the lock on the pawn shop door that he really should have realized was engaged seeing as how Hanamaki had spent the last twelve minutes in his lap in the beanbag chair behind the counter with his hands up Issei’s shirt and his tongue almost down Issei’s throat.  It had been a great way to spend his fifteen minute break even if he had been more distracted than usual the rest of his shift imaging all the other things they could manage to get up to in under fifteen minutes and whether or not Hanamaki did that with Oikawa or Iwaizumi when they took refuge in his shop.

“Why does he have to be all the way over there in that?  And I am stuck in this discount hellhole with you.  No offense, babe.”

“Offense slightly taken but excused cause I know I can’t beat Iwaizumi in a frilly pink apron unless I get some of that cheap ribbon you sell and come back wearing nothing but that.  Which hey, if you really want me to I’d do it cause it’s you.”

“You flatter me but you’d do it for a few corn chips and a box of cream puffs.”

“I would do a lot of things for a box of cream puffs.”

“Oh.  I know.”  Issei winks at Hanamaki and gives him a lecherous grin, licking his lips dramatically.

Which is, of course, when the door opens and a gaggle of little old ladies shuffle inside.  They barely even glance at Issei with his elbows on the counter, half eaten sandwich in one hand, Hanamaki’s phone in the other, and a lecherous look on his face.

“Do either of you boys know when that pawn shop will be open again?”  One of them asks while her companions spread out through the store.  Issei can hear them chattering on about the glass vases and the display tiny glass figures and the aisle of cheap perfumes that he dubs his own personal level of hell because of all the small delicate glass things there.

“Not a clue, ma’am,” Hanamaki answers.  “But someone should do something about it.  I swear that place is never open.  Don’t know how they manage to do any business at all.”

Issei scarfs the rest of his sandwich down, saves the cookie for later, and takes a swallow of almost cold coffee.

“It’s a shame.  I’d suggest trying again once you’re done here.  It’ll probably be open then but it’s hard to say.  I’m pretty sure I’ve seen the guy who works there asleep behind the counter.”  He stares at Hanamaki as the old lady thanks him and wanders off to find her friends - most of whom seem to be excited over something down in the kitchen utensil aisle.

Hanamaki leers back at him, leaning over the counter to pull him into a quick kiss.  “I’m pretty sure I’ve seen him doing plenty of things behind that counter and if you weren’t stuck here til close I’d invite you to see some of them.  Maybe I’ll see if Oikawa can swing a long break today.”

Thunder booms through the strip, rattling the windows, and Issei shakes his head.

“Begone little demon.  Don’t wait up for me tonight.  Not sure how long closing books will take.”

“Love you too, babe.”

The door shuts behind him and Issei watches Hanamaki jog towards the other end of the strip where his pawn shop, Iwaizumi’s sandwich shop, and Oikawa’s coffee shop, Grounds, were all located.  Some days he hated being so far away from the others even if they were still technically in the same block.

“So.”  Issei steps from the counter with a charming smile.  The visit from Hanamaki - and the lunch and picture of Iwaizumi - had refreshed him into something almost as charming as Oikawa drunk off wine.  “What can I help you young ladies with today?”

#seijoh4week #haikyuu #HanaMatsuIwaOi #hanamaki takahiro #matsukawa issei #iwaizumi hajime #oikawa toorou #HanaMatsuIwaOi fic #hq writing