for once it's only people that i follow who follow me too :')

If you have a lucid dream, do not commit any acts of violence against the things you meet

by reddit user professionalsuccubus

I had my first lucid dream at age nine.

I was in a decrepit neighborhood – rotting porches, peeling paint, Spanish moss hanging off dormers, the works. Mist swirled around my ankles as I walked slowly through the streets. Like an old video game, the horizon was both unchanging and unreachable.

I wandered around, in and out of the cobwebby houses. Although the streets were empty, the houses usually had a few ghosts floating around. There were a few children, but they were mostly old people, in various stages of decay. They never hurt me, nor did they speak. They just floated. Sometimes they’d follow me, but I never felt threatened.

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“Would you forget?“

No extended summary at the moment because everything below is a spoiler (!!), I’ll just say heartbreak and party. 

Warning: swearing & mild SPOILERS for Episode 2 (you’ve been warned!)
Steve Harrington x Reader
Gif credit:
(x) 

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Rick and Morty’s Stutters

So I’ve noticed in a lot of Rick and Morty fan comics and fanfictions (not that there’s a lot of) that people try to incorporate Rick and Morty’s stuttering, which I absolutely love as a person who stutters and went to speech therapy for several years. However, I often times see people just making them stutter on random words, or have them stutter on literally every word, which is not how stuttering works at all. To help everyone out, here’s a quick guide on Rick and Morty’s stuttering that I complied while watching some episodes. 

Morty’s Stuttering:

Morty tends to stutter more at the beginning of sentences, and at certain conjunctions (connector words that attach two sentences together - think “and”). His stuttering seems to get worse when he is under pressure, overcome by emotion, or when he’s thinking fast. 

He mostly seems to stutter on:

  • the T/Th sound, when followed by an “a” or “e”
  • the J sound, when starting a rushed sentence or saying the word “just”
  • the B sound, mainly when saying the “buh” sound or the word “but”
  • the D sound, mainly when saying the “duh”  or “di” sound
  • the Y sound, usually when saying the word “you”
  • the I, as in the word “I” or “I’m” or on the word “it”
  • the W sound, usually on question words (”Who/What/Where/When”) especially when he’s rushed, or the word “we”
  • the H sound, when starting a question (think the word“how”?)
  • the L sound, at the start of sentences and when followed by “e”

Morty will also say the same words twice in the same sentence when he’s stuttering, because he either is talking too fast and couldn’t get all the words out smoothly or because he stuttered while saying it. A lot of people that stutter do this. An example would be:

“Aw, geez, Rick! Did - did you really have to shoot that alien in front of everyone?”

See? The repeated word was “did”. Here’s an example of him stuttering and repeating some words:

“Aw, geez, Rick! Did - did you really have to shoot that alien in front of everyone? J-Jessica will never talk to me again! Th-that’s it! You’ve gone too far!” 

He also uses “Rick” often times as a “crutch” word, or a word he repeats a lot unknowingly when talking. People who don’t stutter even have crutch words as well, so this is not really related to his stuttering but more to his speech pattern. He usually only repeats his crutch word when talking to or about Rick, which Rick then does in vice versa with Morty’s name. 

Rick’s Stuttering: 

Rick seems to stutter more in the beginning of sentences, in the middle, and when he’s drunk. It gets worse when he’s burping, trying to talk his way out of something, or when he’s angry. 

He mostly stutters on:

  • the Y sound, or more specifically the word “you”
  • the Sh sound, especially when he’s drunk and when its followed by “e”
  • the I sound, especially on “I”, “I’ll”, or “it’s”
  • the Th sound, followed by “a” or “e”
  • the D sound, mainly when saying the “duh”  or “di” sound
  • the W sound, on question words or the word “we”
  • the H sound, on the word “how”
  • the C sound, on words like “can”
  • the M sound, mostly when he’s drunk

He will also repeat his words a lot too, and does so a lot more when he burps in the middle of them. Like I said earlier, he often uses Morty’s name as a crutch word, especially when talking to him, and he will stutter usually while saying it. An example of Rick talking would be:

“Y-you know what, Morty? Maybe I had a reason to shoot that alien! Sh-she was a parasite alien, Morty!, and was going to plant eggs in everybody at y-your school!”

However, I didn’t make him stutter on all of the words/letters/sounds he has trouble with. People who stutter can often times correctly say their trouble words with no problem, if they think about it or if it’s just by chance. I wrote Morty’s sentences like this too, seeing as he doesn’t always stutter on his trouble words either. Also, stuttering usually doesn’t happen more than once or twice in a sentence. 

Example conversation with Rick and Morty stuttering:

“Aw, geez, Rick! Did - did you really have to shoot that alien in front of everyone? J-Jessica will never talk to me again! Th-that’s it! You’ve gone too far!”

“Y-you know what, Morty? Maybe I had a reason to shoot that alien! Sh-she was a parasite alien, Morty!, and was going to plant eggs in everybody at y-your school!”

“I don’t care, Rick! That was one my shot with Jessica! I’m - I’m never talking to you again!”

“Aw, c’mon, Morty! You- you can’t be serious! Th-this’ll all blow over in a week.”

“I-I’m serious, Rick! You’re - you’re such a dick!”

“Fine, you little asshole! We’ll see what happens next time you’re in trouble! I-I won’t help you at all!”

Well, that’s about it for this post. Feel free to add anything or make corrections! I may later edit in some of Rick and Morty’s trouble word/sounds I missed earlier. If you have any questions, shoot me as ask. 

Golden Boy

Pairings: Chris Evans x Reader

Word Count: 2165

Warnings: Smut - NSFW

Summary: After playfully sending suggestive pictures to Chris right before he presents at the Oscars you realize that you are in for the night of your life.

Author’s Notes: This wasn’t planned. I had no idea Chris was going to wear a velvet bowtie to the Oscars. I’m basically CEvans Trash. I literally just wrote this – instead of watching the freaking Oscars – so if there are any ridiculous grammar errors – please forgive me… I am tired and hormonal. This is probably trash, ha!

I tagged those of you that liked my initial post asking about this (along with some others). Soo yeah…..

Originally posted by sensualkisses

You hummed to yourself absentmindedly as you applied the rest of your makeup. Chris had promised his mom that he would take her to the Oscars this year, and you had agreed that it was a good idea. After the show was over you were to meet up with him to go to the after parties – which, let’s face it, were always the best part of the night. As you rapped your knuckles lightly on the bathroom countertop your phone dinged – alerting you to an incoming message. You reached for it as you finished putting on your lipstick. Of course it was from Chris.

“Miss you beautiful. Can’t wait to show you off to everyone.” You couldn’t help but smile at this. Of course he would send you something sweet. He had panicked that you would be upset about not going with him to the show, but you had assured him over and over that it was fine.

You had watched him get ready earlier that afternoon – the sight of him in his fitted suit and velvet tie had left your panties soaked. While you had secretly hoped for a quickie before he left for the show you had reasoned with yourself that there wasn’t time. Even the thought of the way he looked caused the tingling between your legs to start again. You checked the time on your cellphone before smiling. If the show was running on time Chris would be presenting within the next five minutes – you turned towards the television playing in the hotel bedroom for confirmation that the scheduling had not gone askew. It hadn’t and you couldn’t help but think how perfect the timing was. You were still only wearing your lingerie – not willing to wear your beautiful dress in fear of getting makeup on it. You positioned your hand over your panties, suggestively touching yourself, and formed a pout before snapping a picture.

“Wishing you could give me a hand.” You texted as you sent the picture. You could tell by your notifications that he had immediately seen it and you couldn’t help but smirk to yourself as you sat your phone down and finished getting ready.


“Jesus Christ,” Chris muttered to himself as he opened your text.

“Everything okay?” Someone beside him asked.

“Oh yeah… yeah,” he nervously blundered as he secured his phone safely back into his pocket. He was due to go on national television any minute, and was now also secretly praying that he could quell his body’s response to your text long enough to present. He chuckled nervously to himself. He knew you had done it on purpose. He had told you when his presentation was, and who it was after so you wouldn’t miss it. “I swear to god, Y/N. You’re going to be the death of me,” he mumbled to himself as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Mr. Evans are you sure you’re okay?” A stagehand asked nervously.

“Never been better!” He announced a little too enthusiastically. Causing his co-presenter to jump beside me.

“Great… you are on in five….four…”

That was fine – he thought to himself – two could certainly play this game and payback was going to be a bitch.


You were nervous. After your text you had never received a response from Chris, but you were sure that he had saw it. Initially you had laughed during his presentation. He seemed maybe just a little flustered – most people wouldn’t have noticed, but most people hadn’t taken him to bed before either. As you exited the limousine you looked around nervously – nearly jumping out of your skin when a warm arm wrapped itself around your waist.

“Hey Babe,” he whispered into your ear – giving you a quick peck on the cheek. You looked up at him and he graced you with one his dazzling smiles. It was only when you really looked into his eyes that you realized he had definitely seen the picture, had certainly reacted to it, and the game was totally on. You swallowed hard – trying to bottle up your excitement as he smirked at you while you walked towards the entrance of the venue. “Just for the record,” he whispered – his beard tickling your ear – “I had to masturbate in the bathroom during the Academy Awards, because of you.” He gave your ass a quick slap which caused you to straighten up in surprise. You couldn’t help but smirk back at him – this was certainly going to be a night to remember.


“Sebby!” Chris shouted as he waived Sebastian over to your table. Sebastian said his hellos before taking a seat between Jeremy and Chris.

“What was up with you tonight?” Sebastian asked with a smirk. His eyes seemed to twinkle with humor as he offered you a wink.

“What do you mean?” Chris asked as he tried his hardest to keep a straight face – failing miserably.

“You seemed a little flustered is all,” Sebastian shrugged as he laughed. “Can’t imagine what would cause Chris to lose his cool,” he added to which Jeremy chuckled.

“I was a little distracted by something,” Chris added seriously as he turned his gaze to you. You knew the more his friends joked the more you were going to pay once you were alone with him.

You smiled shyly as you brought a glass of wine to your lips. “I guess you need to work on that babe,” you shrugged before turning your attention back to your conversation with Jeremy’s wife.


The following hours seemed uneventful – at least where Chris’s revenge was concerned. You gushed over celebrities like Emma Stone, as he politely introduced you – never taking his eyes off of you as you interacted with his friends. Everyone continued to drink – the alcohol seemed endless. Each time a bottle was finished at least two more arrived to replace it.

“Everyone should be dancing!” Sebastian declared as he rose from his chair.

“Oh come on man,” Chris muttered as he shook his head. His face was tinged pink from the amount of alcohol he had consumed. “I don’t know if I can even stand right now,” he laughed.

“Y/N?” Sebastian asked as he offered you his hand. You took it willingly looking over his shoulder to see Chris’s reaction. He was watching you like a hawk – good.

You left the table with Sebastian hand-in-hand. Out of all of Chris’s friends you liked Sebastian the best – probably because you had known him before you had ever met Chris. “You are going to have hell to pay,” Seb laughed as you danced against him.

“A girl can only hope,” you laughed as you smirked in Chris’s direction. He was already rising from his chair – his eyes trained only on you and his best friend.

“That didn’t take long,” Sebastian laughed as Chis meandered his way through the crowd. As he neared Sebastian shouted, “She’s all yours,” before laughing and walking back to the table where everyone else had stayed.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” Chris muttered into your ear as he pulled you roughly into him. He placed his hands on your hips –guiding them to grind into him as you felt his growing erection. “You kill me,” he muttered breathlessly against your neck. You could feel the wetness between your legs grow as he continued to harden against your contact. The feeling caused you to let out a soft moan. “Oh do you like that,” he whispered seductively into your ear.

“Yes,” you responded breathlessly. “Chris, I…” but he cut you off.

“Follow me,” he demanded as he took your hand, guiding you towards one of the many private bathrooms. Being a celebrity had its perks – at least you had a room to yourself.


You sighed as Chris looked the bathroom door behind him. You were ready. Ready for him to ravage every part of your body.

“Not so fast,” he chuckled as he pushed you gently onto the couch – you never quite understood the need for couches in bathrooms, but for once you were glad to have one. You pouted quietly as Steve took you in. “Now listen here baby girl – you’ve been torturing me all night. Sending me that naughty picture of you and grinding yourself up against my best friend. Now it’s my turn,” he muttered softly as he slowly removed his tie. “Give me your hands,” he commanded. You obeyed giving him your hands. He took them in his hands and tied the velvet material around them securely. He spun you on the couch – making you lay on it fully before raising your hands above your head. “These better not move, do you understand me?” He asked. You nodded as you whimpered your assent. You would do whatever he said if he would help the aching feeling between your legs.

He smirked as he worked your dress up to your waist – admiring a portion of the lingerie he had seen earlier in the picture. He slowly planted kisses up your leg causing you to squirm uncontrollably. More than anything you wanted to twist your fingers through his hair and you soon found your hands moving from their position. “What did I say?” he asked calmly as you placed your hands back above your head. “Good girl,” he hummed – kissing your wet core through your panties. “I think we can get rid of these,” he murmured against your skin as he worked your panties off. He gently circled his thumb around your sensitive clit causing you to buck your hips. “Mmm, my naughty girl. You’re so wet,” he remarked as he slid a finger inside of you causing you to moan out his name. “That’s right baby, you’re mine,” he said fiercely as he added another finger – pumping them in and out of you as you squirmed with pleasure. You could feel your walls tightening at his touch and your moans became louder. You didn’t care who heard you. “Not yet baby,” he whispered as he removed his fingers.

“What?” Your head snapped forward at this. He couldn’t just get you close and then stop. “Chris,” you whined as you tried to sit up. He pushed you back gently with a smile before moving his face between your legs. He smirked up at you before burying his face into you. As he lapped at your wetness you moaned his name louder causing him to suck on your sensitive clit. As you bucked your hips he slid a finger into you. His mouth and fingers were too much – causing you to cum all over his face. He lapped away your orgasm – causing more moans to fall from your mouth – before he broke away with a smirk. His beard was glistening with the remnants of your pleasure which immediately made you ready for round two.

“Stand up,” he demanded as he stood and offered you his hand. You placed your bound ones in his and he helped you to your feet. “I want you to bend over the sink,” he explained as he motioned over to the sink. You did as he commanded – your bound wrists stinging softly as the velvet bit into your soft flesh. You watched in the mirror as he removed himself from his pants – stroking himself a few times before approaching you from behind. He lifted your dress to your waist again before nudging your legs apart with his own. As he slid into you fully you groaned. He began to thrust into you as he held on to your hips tightly. “God – you are so tight,” he exclaimed as his thrusts began to become more disjointed. You groaned as your body reacted to his thrusts – you could feel your walls tightening again with the promise of a glorious orgasm. When he began palming your sensitive clit you came undone around him – your orgasm spurring his own. He stiffened as he filled you with himself. He sighed softly into your hair as he kissed the back of your neck affectionately before removing himself.

“So that’s what happens when I send you nudes when you’re at the Oscars?” you asked with a laugh as you sat shakily on the couch.

“I guess so,” he chuckled as he plopped down beside you – wrapping his arm around you and bringing your head to his shoulder.

“Well I guess I should do that more often,” you shrugged as you both laughed.

“Oh hell,” Chris sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“What is it?” you asked alarmed.

“Seb and I had a bet on who would have sex at an Oscars’ after party years ago. I never thought it would be me so I’ve given him hell for years about it,” he grimaced.

“Well I guess it’s time to pay up,” you chuckled as you both rose from the couch.

“It was worth every last fucking penny,” Chris responded as he pulled you into him – planting a soft kiss on your lips.


Tags: (I tagged those of you that liked my initial post asking about this along with a few others)

@writingblockswriters @kendallefire @marvelouslyloki @seargantbcky @sapphire1727 @dont-let-me-go-again @amrita31199 @kittthekat @3brosangel @yknott81 @samanthaneedsanap @dreamer1495 @frolicsomefawkes @totallygroovyllama @caffeineandlaserbeams @sebbys-girl @bless-my-demons @moonofhisheart @giggles2107 @summerbummer2001 @ninjayjumper @vidishajain @fan-guirl @ily-celebrities @harleyqueen7

Unrequited

Summary: As a teenager you’d been best friends with Sam Winchester, particularly since your mother and his father hunted together whenever they felt they needed backup. But then you’d moved country, and all interactions with the Winchesters were of the non-physical kind. So when they call on you for backup, you jump at the chance to see your best friend again, not to mention see his big brother, on who you’d had a mild crush on.
The hunt goes well, the rest of the evening, however, doesn’t exactly go your way.  
Pairing
: Alpha!DeanxOmega!Reader
Words
: 3963
Warnings
: A/B/O Dynamics. Smut.
AN: This was an Anon Request! I’m quite pleased with this one, and kinda tempted to write a sequel… let me know what you think of that idea!!!
Constructive Criticism Welcome!!!

***

Your phone started ringing for the third time in a row, and you couldn’t suppress your exasperated groan as you tugged a sweatshirt over your wet hair and damp skin. Snatching it up off the scuff-marked plastic table you chanced a quick glance at the caller ID before answering.

Sam Winchester.

Of course.

“You better have a damn good reason for disturbing my day off, Winchester,” you teased, tucking the mobile between your shoulder and ear so you could return to the damp towel you’d tossed onto the bed and set about drying your hair more thoroughly. The bastard knew you were taking a day to pamper yourself, yet still decided to drive you mad with your own ringtone. How very rude of him.

On the end of the line, Sam just chuckled, and you could just picture him shaking his head slightly in amusement.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” he laughed, but you could detect genuine regret in his voice. “It’s just that I know you’re nearby, and me and Dean could use an extra pair of hands on this one. Dean will hate me when he finds out I rang… he doesn’t like thinking there are more Vamps than we can handle,” he said. A faint scraping sound in the background suggested that he’d just taken a seat, too.

As you once again dropped the towel onto your bed in favour of your hairbrush, you let out an amused titter. “Certainly sounds like Dean,” you mused, “sounds like he’s well on his way to becoming one of those stereotypical stubborn Alphas you get on TV.”

Once again, you heard the distinctive rumble of Sam laughing. That was when a thought hit you, and your face lit up in a smile so broad that your cheeks actually hurt.

“Hold up… does-does that mean I actually get to see you guys? And I mean see you, not just skype or a screen-shared movie?”

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Not Northside Material - Part 1

Originally posted by always-klaus-forever-kol

A/N: It’s me, back from the dead and this time… sweeter. Anyway, here have this. The next few parts are already written, I just have to edit them and I’ll post them depending on the reaction to this one because its been a while and I’m rusty, ya kno? so pls let me know what you think.

Part 2

Summary: There’s a new girl at Southside High and that means new entertainment for the Serpents. 

Word Count: 2,625

Warnings: Swear words, Serpents, and that’s all so far

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being the middle wheeler child [headcanons]

Originally posted by stilinskikissme


Request: @xbarrjallenx said “can I please request a ‘being mike and nancy’s sister…’ head canon? thank you!“

Pairing: Mike Wheeler x Reader (platonic, family), Nancy Wheeler x Reader (platonic, family), Steve Harrington x Reader (oops it’s romantic)


this is so long and all over the place and i’m thinking of doing a steve story based on this headcanon. thoughts?


  • being a Wheeler has made your life…interesting.
  • to start, you’re the awkward middle child, three years older than Mike and a year younger than Nancy.
  • even though you’re closer in age to Nancy, you can’t help but feel closer to Mike.
  • you‘ve always been the one who watches over them during their campaigns, even joining in when you get bored of doing homework
  • (the whole party loves you)
  • ((in fact, Dustin, Lucas, and Will all have secret crushes on you but shh))
  • but of course you’re still pretty close with Nancy
  • I mean
  • who else are you gonna go to for advice?
  • and gossip?
  • she’s your role model.
  • surprisingly, you fit in with the popular crowd at school
  • which means that you catch the attention of King Steve fairly quickly.
  • you can’t help but fall for the big-haired dork
  • I mean, he hangs out with you a lot and he’s actually showing interest in you
  • just when you think he’s about to ask you out…
  • he goes after Nancy.
  • you can’t help but feel heartbroken
  • and Mike notices, so he tries to distract you, using D&D in order to keep your attention focused away from Steve & Nancy
  • when Will goes missing, things get worse
  • you thought Steve asking Nancy out hurt?
  • imagine losing someone who you’ve known all your life.
  • you go to the search party, tears in your eyes as you search for little Byers
  • when you don’t find anything, you sneak out with the boys
  • you’re just as surprised as they are when you find Eleven
  • you are the one who she trusts the most
  • you give her your old clothes and help the boys set up a small fort in your basement
  • this whole thing has definitely kept your mind off Steve
  • too bad Nancy has to ruin it and drag you to his house the next night.
  • the party is lame (in your opinion) but you just don’t want to see Steve and Nancy making out
  • so when Barb cuts herself, you jump at the chance to leave
  • you take Barb’s side in her argument with Nancy, causing Nancy to say some pretty mean stuff to you
  • (like, even Tommy and Carol are shocked)
  • ((so is Steve but he decides to stick with Nancy instead of you))
  • so you stand up straight and hold back your tears, following Barb outside..
  • …where you are both taken by the Demogorgon.

  • you wake up disoriented, not knowing where you are
  • you’re blinded by bright lights, and when your eyes adjust, you can’t help but smile.
  • sitting around you are Lucas, Dustin, Mike, and Will.
  • you shift around, trying to get comfortable
  • this automatically wakes up Mike, which wakes up Dustin, which wakes up Lucas, which wakes up Will
  • the four boys surround you in a hug before Mike sits up straight, grinning widely.
  • NANCY, SHE’S AWAKE!! (Y/N)’S AWAKE!!”
  • in stumbles Nancy, eyes red and swollen and hair all over the place
  • she lets out a sob as she throws herself on you, apologizing profusely as she realizes just how close she had come to losing you
  • you’re super confused for a few minutes before it all comes back to you
  • Eleven, Barb, Will, the place that the kids now call the “Upside Down”
  • your eyes widen as you look at Mike
  • please tell me no one is dead.”
  • Mike looks at Nancy, who looks right back at him
  • they speak in unison
  • El is gone”
  • “Barb is gone”
  • you look down slightly before getting up, making your way to the door before you feel your legs give out 
  • you begin to fall, feeling two sets of arms steady you
  • woah there kid. take it easy.”
  • it’s Jim Hopper, who you haven’t seen this sober in years. 
  • (Y/N) you’re awake!”
  • all of a sudden, you’re being embraced by someone and you can’t help but smile as you recognize the familiar scent of Farrah Fawcett Hairspray.

  • things are finally going back to normal
  • no Demogorgon and no Upside Down to worry about
  • but then Christmas comes along
  • and you wake up sick
  • your mom forces you to stay in bed, and you listen
  • until you end up in the bathroom, throwing up like crazy.
  • when you see the weird slug coming out of you, you calmly stand up, flush the toilet, and sprint all the way to the Byers household
  • you flinch slightly at Joyce’s smiling face, not wanting to ruin her day
  • you ask her permission to talk to Will and she agrees, knowing that you two are the only ones who understand each other.
  • Will admits that he’s experiencing the same things as you but makes you promise not to tell anyone.
  • you reluctantly agree and he smiles before hugging you.
  • I’m scared (Y/N)”
  • you can’t help but feel protective over Will but you can’t find it in you to lie to him and tell him it’ll all be alright.
  • so you settle for the truth
  • me too Will. me too.”
  • you reject Jonathan’s offer to drive you back home, and although Joyce is worried, she knows that you need the time to yourself.
  • you’re stopped on your way home by a honk
  • you look up slowly to see Steve Harrington leaning our the window of his car
  • hey Wheeler. what’s a pretty girl like you doing out here all alone?”
  • you scoff and roll your eyes before walking away, only for him to follow you up the road.
  • c’mon Wheeler. what’d I do?”
  • Steve eventually gets out of the car and catches up to you, grabbing your wrist and bringing you in, eyes widening when you start crying
  • he wraps you in his arms and carries you to his car before driving off
  • wanna talk about it?” he gently asks. you nod.
  • and so you spill everything
  • and by ‘everything’, I mean
  • e v e r y t h i n g
  • the vague things you remember from the Upside Down, admitting that you remember Barb dying. everything.
  • including your crush on him and your heartbreak over his relationship with Nancy
  • yet you keep your promise to Will, and don’t say a word about the slugs
  • Steve stares at you for a moment before grabbing your cheeks and leaning in
  • your eyes widen and just as his lips brush over yours,
  • you open the door and dart out of the car, running all the way home
  • you couldn’t kiss Steve. you couldn’t do that to Nancy.
  • you start to avoid Steve, even though he always tries to talk to you about it
  • you spend even more time with the kids, immersing yourself in Mike’s search for Eleven.

  • soon enough, it has been nearly a year since the events with the Upside Down
  • you find yourself struggling, visions of that place becoming more and more frequent
  • until it all culminates on Halloween
  • you get dragged to Tina’s party by Jonathan 
  • and you’re actually having fun, until Nancy and Steve get into their fight
  • Steve comes up to Jonathan, telling him to take Nancy home before turning to you
  • you stare at each other until Jonathan comes back, Nancy in his arms
  • you turn and walk away with Jonathan, grabbing his car keys in order to open the door for him
  • After placing Nancy in the car, you realize you forgot your purse so you go back, telling Jonathan to go ahead without you
  • you hear a small shriek from the woods behind the house and can’t help but go near it
  • you find some sort of small creature, which runs when it sees you.
  • you follow it all the way to the Henderson’s home before deciding to turn back…
  • only to find yourself in the Upside Down once again
  • you notice a large shadow looming over the town, and your anxiety skyrockets.
  • the thing makes its way towards you and all of a sudden, you’re in Jim Hopper’s arms.
  • you can’t speak. everything that comes out of your mouth are broken stutters
  • so Hopper takes you to a small, rustic cabin
  • where you find
  • “(Y/N)!!”
  • all of a sudden you’re tackled by a curly head of hair
  • Eleven?”
  • Hopper tells you everything that has happened since last year 
  • you’re just really happy that El is okay.
  • soon you have to go back, promising that you won’t tell anyone about El.
  • you eventually get dragged into the whole thing with Dart, and you have to run around looking for him
  • you run into El, and quickly help her get out of the school, narrowly avoiding Mike
  • you burst outside and find yourself back in the Upside Down
  • Will stands there, gaping at the weird shadow monster
  • you quickly run to Will, trying to get the monster away from him
  • you’re successful but know that it has infected Will.
  • ((you are unaware that a part of it has entered you now as well))
  • you try and help Joyce with Will, and eventually help Bob figure out where Hopper is located but you don’t go with them
  • Mike doesn’t want to let you go but you assure him that you’re going straight home
  • you arrive home, where you run into Dustin
  • and eventually Steve
  • the burning of the tunnels hurt both you and Will, although it hurts Will significantly more
  • Dustin and Steve don’t know what to do
  • eventually, y’all go to the junkyard, where you meet up with Max and Lucas.
  • the kids are all busy arguing, leaving you and Steve alone
  • hey (Y/N), I think it’s time we talk about what happened last Christmas.”
  • “no offense Steve, but now is not really the best time for that.”
  • Steve is so done with you ignoring him but before he can do anything about it, you’re all stuffed inside the bus waiting for the demodogs.
  • you’re on the floor with a demodog about to devour you when all of a sudden, they’re called off.
  • the first thing Steve does when he picks you up is dip you into a dramatic kiss, causing all the kids to groan
  • what about Nancy?”
  • “we broke up the night of Tina’s party. turns out she never loved me and I never loved her. we were always focused on other people.”
  • you eventually make your way to Hawkins Labs, meeting up with everyone else.
  • Nancy hugs you super tightly
  • so, Jonathan huh?”
  • “so, Steve huh?”
  • you find Joyce, Hopper, Will, and Mike and quickly drive to the Byers household.
  • (Y/N) I thought you said you were going straight home!”
  • “shut up Michael. something got in the way.”
  • you quickly realize that you must be sedated as well
  • even though you’re not completely possessed, you’re still a risk
  • you manage to calm down Will when he wakes, and smoothly translate his message towards the others: CLOSE GATE.
  • you’re taken to Hopper’s cabin as well, and the virus comes out of you much more easily than it comes out of Will.
  • eventually, Will is freed and you just know that El has closed the gate.

  • a month later, you find yourself fixing Mike’s tie before the Snow Ball
  • you and Nancy are also going, being in charge of snacks and drinks, respectively.
  • you can’t help but chuckle as Dustin walks into the school, hair all puffed up just like Steve
  • you really can’t help but smile as Nancy walks over and asks to dance with him
  • you find yourself swaying softly to the music, leaning against the walls before..
  • can I have this dance?”
  • you look over to see Steve standing there, a goofy smile on his face as he looks at you
  • you gingerly place your hand in his and squeak as he tugs you closer to him
  • you smile fondly as you spot Mike kissing El and turn to Steve when you hear his laugh slightly
  • what?” you ask
  • it’s just, I don’t know why I didn’t ask you out last year.”
  • “well you were in love with Nancy.”
  • “that’s the thing (Y/N). I never was. it was always you that I was in love with. not her.”
  • you find yourself unable to speak as you pull Steve down, pressing your lips against his in a kiss that leaves him completely breathless.
  • you bounce apart when you hear a squeal and look up to see Nancy and Jonathan standing there, the latter holding a camera up.
  • Jonathan smirks before handing you a polaroid. “congrats.”
  • Nancy follows, leaning up towards Steve and whispering in his ear. “if I see her cry you’re dead Harrington. got it?”
  • Steve chuckles and nods before coming face to face with Dustin and Lucas. 
  • if you hurt her, I will break you, you son of a bitch!” Dustin exclaims.
  • if you ever get bored, call me.” Lucas says with a wink, causing Max to snort.
  • Mike and Eleven are the last to speak. 
  • if you ever do anything bad to her Harrington,” Mike starts.
  • yeah yeah. I get it. you’ll hurt me.” Steve interrupts.
  • Mike snorts before speaking.
  • no. i’ll let el come after you.”
  • you can’t help but laugh at Mike’s words, bringing him into a hug that soon draws Nancy in as well.
  • even though the past two years have been terrifying, you’re just glad that you had such amazing siblings with you every step of the way.

Tags: @delicrieux, @broken-pieces, @xbarrjallenx

Paper Hearts (Part 13)

Originally posted by tbhobi

Genre: Angst/fluff

♡ Pairing: Reader x Jungkook // Reader x Jimin

♡ Length: 5.1k

♡ Summary: It has been nearly a year since you started writing anonymous letters to Jungkook, giving him words of encouragement behind the thin mask of a paper. He never considered you as a possible suspect behind these letters, because you were nothing more than a best friend. And you couldn’t put all the blame on him either, after all, you were too afraid to confess in fear of tarnishing your precious friendship.

1 ♡ 2  ♡ 3  4   5   6   7   8   9  ♡ 10  ♡ 11  ♡ 12  ♡ 13  ♡ 14

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#smut #nsfw #oblivious!harry

Prompts: @a-sisi-universe
Author: @queenofthyme

Warning: well, I mean just read the tags above. exactly as it says really.

There were pros and cons to being attracted to your boss. The cons, Draco wasn’t too fussed about. His reputation couldn’t get much worse anyway (he was an ex-death eater after all), and it’s not like he didn’t have the money to get by if he lost his job. The only reason he’d worked so hard to become an auror in the first place was because of Harry Potter.

And therein laid the pro - his boss was Harry Potter.  Gorgeous, delectable, dreamy, oblivious Harry Potter.

Draco certainly wasn’t the only one in the office charmed by Harry. He’d noticed some of the other aurors staring too - during the rare moments when he could pull his eyes away from Harry. And it wasn’t just Harry’s looks. If it were just that, Draco would have gotten over it years ago. No, Harry had to be brave too. And powerful. And a little wild. And above all, kind.

Draco knew it was sappy of him but, Merlin, did he find that kindness sexy. Harry was the type of boss who took responsibility in the media when you messed up in the field. The type of boss who would take over your reporting for you (despite his own ridiculous workload) when he could see you were stressed or affected by a particularly emotional case. He was the type of boss who never treated you as if he were your boss at all.

Of course, Draco wouldn’t have minded if Harry threw his weight around a little. The fantasies Draco had of Harry often involved him doing just that - albeit with a few orders that would be highly inappropriate for the workplace. But no matter how obviously Draco pined, Harry still didn’t seem to notice. He really had no idea of his effect on people.

So when Harry called Draco into his office - the start to many a fantasy - last thing on a Friday before he could leave with the other aurors, Draco knew Harry wouldn’t understand the thoughts that were running through his head. Empty Department. Friday night. Boss’s office. Harry Potter’s thighs.

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you are my sunshine (i tried)

You are my sunshine, my only sunshine

Error felt at ease with the soft sound of inks voice filling his ears(?) in a calming matter. Error was laying on his back with his head in inks lap slowly getting rocked back and forward while ink was sing a familiar tune which seemed to put all errors nerves into a relaxed mode as he just laid there with his eyes closed listening to the voice he loved most.

You make me happy when skies are gray

error wanted to smile at the cheesy song ink was singing maybe tease him about it a little. But when he tried to open his mouth words didn’t come out, only a little whimper got escape his teeth. Error frowned. why couldn’t he speak? and why did he throat hurt? Error thought to himself as he started noticing the burning feeling at the bottom of his neck which was slowly making its way up to his mouth.

You’ll never know dear, how much I love you

Error tried to move so he could get up and maybe get a drink but he could only move his fingers and maybe lift his arms a little. He felt heavy so heavy what’s going on? Ink why can’t I move?  He tried again so speak, to move, anything but all he could do was open his eyes a little and see inks blurry from above him.

Please don’t take my sunshine aw-ay

his voice broke on the last word, followed by a soft sob which were slowly growing louder and louder. Was ink … crying? Error started panicking a little now, ink almost never cried. Ink starts mumbling soft words in between his sobs, error could only make out few of the words. “I’m … sorry ……… error ….. hang ……. say…….don’t die” die? Was somebody dying? Is that why in was crying? Oke stupid question that was probably what was going on, but who how could be the person ink would cry over like this? … unless

The it hit error, memories came flooding back into his mind. The argument between them, ink going after error, hiding in another au not wanting to confront ink, the angry people wanting error away, the mean words, not being able to escape, the hit.

Error was dying.      

No.

No, he can’t. he doesn’t want to die, not jet. Fear took over errors senses, fear of leaving this world alone, fear of leaving ink alone. He doesn’t want to go now he finally has something to hold dear.

He tried to move again, to reach up or get a hold on something, anything. but he only became painfully aware of how numb his body really was, like every body part was asleep and never walking up again with a thick heavy blanket over himself that he couldn’t push of. And it was slowly getting worse, starting by his toots making its way up bit by bit.

Ink must have noticed how error was struggling, because he gently lifted his head out of his lap careful not to jolts him and moved him a bit higher up to his face, this way error could see ink clearly even though at that moment he wish he couldn’t.

Inks face did bring a sense of clam over error but a wave of sadness as well. Ink had his eyes almost closed, tears constantly seeping out from the little space they could and slowly making their way down his cheeks dripping into his scarf and sometimes on error.

With his the little energy he had error tried to speak again, maybe now he was closer to ink he could actually hear him. So he opened his mouth and spoke in a breathy barely audibly voice.

“ink”

Inks eyes snapped open looking down to error with big eyes as if he couldn’t believe he was still alive much less speaking to him.

“error you’re awake”

Ink spoke in a voice that didn’t really fit him. A sad one like there was no hope anymore, error didn’t like this voice on him.

“why do you sound so sad?”

Error tried his best to speak clearly but it just tired him out faster, he needed to be more careful picking his words.

“b-because” ink paused a for a minute looking for the right words to say. “because I don’t know what to do error” another sob followed by some fresh tears going down his cheeks.

“please don’t die don’t leave me alone error” ink got out between hiccups and heavy breaths trying to get his breathing under control so he could speak clearly.

Error tried to get the last of his strength together and raised his hand a little up to inks face but right when he got his hand halfway up it almost fell down again if it wasn’t for ink taking a hold of it and bring it up to his face.

He gently Pressed errors hand against his cheek, nuzzling into it a little. making sure to keep it there as long as he could. “please” ink murmured in a small voice “I don’t want to be alone again”.

Error didn’t know what to say, but then what do you say when you’re dying in your “boyfriends” arms. “hey it’s going to be oke” nailed it. (nice one error)

Ink chuckled, he acutely chuckled. “you really aren’t the best with words error” error had to agree with that one “I know” he murmured weakly.

His voice was growing more and more tired, Like his body was growing more and more limp and right now both ink and error are well known of that fact. All there is to it is to say goodbye now.

“hey skittles” ink let out an amused breath at the nickname “yeah?” error took a deep breath “can you do me a favour?” error slowly moved his thump over inks cheek bone gently wiping away some of the tears that were still flowing down.

“of course what is it?” the numb feeling was at errors waist now (work with me here) but he managed to show a little smile “remember me oke”  inks eyes widened a little “w-what do you mean I’m no…” his words got cut of but error covering his mouth.

“sing with me”

Error started humming the same tune ink was sing to error a little while ago. It was low and maybe a bit raspy but ink could still hear error was starting where he left of so he didn’t want to take this away from error and started singing again.

You told me once, dear, you really loved me

Error smiled, inks voice once again putting his nerves to ease.

He kept humming.

And no one else could come between.

The numbness was taking over fully now, he could feel himself slowly disappear.

He was still humming.

But now you’ve left me and love another.

Error stopped humming.

You have shattered all of my dreams.

His hand fell but never hit the ground.

You are…

 “goodbye ink…. I love you”

 A loud cry slipped from inks teeth he clutched errors jacket against his chest pressing his nose (?) into the only thing there’s left of him now.

 “I won’t forget error” he cried into the jacket careful, to not let his tears black tears stain the fabric.

 “I promise”

 “I love you too”  

————————————————————–

well this took me a lot longer the i wanted but yeah stuff happens

anyway here you go this is dased around a drawing you made sorry i can’t really rememder which one it was

sorry for the mistakes hope you like it

Submitted by  idk-likesomeone

Unu says: OMG THIS. I CRIED. I GENUINELY CRIED. IDK HOW BUT YOU DID IT. GOOD JOB! THANK YOU SO MUCH, I LOVE THIS ONE!

Knuckles : Boxer!Ashton (Part 2)

sorry it took so long! special thank u to Ashley (@thesaltyspice) for helping me come up with ideas for this a million years ago xx

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven  | Part Eight  | Part Nine

[Following anyone/everyone who leaves some form of thoughtful feedback x]

- Knuckles Playlist


“Look at that one.”

“That one over there?”

“Yeah,” you confirm with a pout. “I want it.”

Ashton chuckles and looks to you at his side. “That’s the fourth dog you’ve said you wanted since we got here.”

It’s true, but you can’t help it. You always get dog-envy at the farmers’ market, exposed to too many cute pups at once for your little heart to handle.

“We should get one,” you say passively, adoring a large german shepherd trotting by with its owner. “Y'know, if we ever live together.”

Ashton smirks, turning his head. “I love how you’re not even worried about scaring me with plans for the future.”

Your cheeks redden, having not noticed the implications when you said it. It’s only been three months since the fight that started it all, since you and Ashton agreed to give your relationship a title, and you suppose you should be more careful about vocalizing your whimsical thoughts. Your guard just naturally falls around him, the pressure to play safe wiped away by his equal and obvious feelings toward you. Talk of commitment doesn’t affect him the way it does most people. If Ashton was going to run, he would’ve done so by now.

You glance down at his fingers between yours, smiling because you don’t think he’s let go of your hand all day. With his hectic training schedule for another upcoming fight and your demanding attendance at university four days a week, the two of you have recently been missing each other more than actually seeing each other, and it appears Ashton wants to make up for lost time in the form of suffocating your palm–not that you mind. For someone whose fists can be classified as lethal weapons, he has quite a gentle grip when it comes to you.

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below thunder showers

sci-fi au
inspired by billie marten’s heavy weather.
fanart commissioned to the incredibly talented @kimnomster. check out her beautiful art right away!!

pairing: jungkook | reader, past yoongi | reader 
genre: angst with bits of fluff
word count: 29.885
warnings: none

Min Yoongi leads Earth with a stern hand and a pair of cold eyes. You lead a withered space station that’s been losing hope for years, mind tired and heart torn. Jeon Jungkook is no more than a broken soldier who’s slowly losing his humanity, but his longing for the rain keeps him tied to the ground.

Three paths converge again when the two worlds clash, and as precarious as they were, it does not stop you from falling in love for a second time.


You are just eight years old when you look at Earth’s sky for the first time.

Though you are considered an observant child, you are still too young to understand the underlying meaning of your actions. Your eyes only see an unexplored vastness, infinite and alluring, undiscerning of the coiling tendrils that precariously tie two worlds together — yours, and Min Yoongi’s.

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Damn- Sweet Pea x Reader

Fandom: Riverdale

Pairing: Sweet Pea x Female!Reader

Words: 1107

Warning(s): Swearing, Fluff, Shade, Tea Pouring, Dirt Dishing

Description: All you wanted was a simple date with your boyfriend, but Mrs. Cooper has other plans.

Taglist: @the-ghost-of-hemingway @bigtravelbucketlist @raised-by-fandoms @natalieroseg @sleepylunarwolf @angrykittty24 @ghostqueen05 @superheavymetalunicorn @cair3n @kneesheee @obsessedqueenie @dbtvluv @jolomez  @fckingnostalgia

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Pain Covered with Skin

Sergeant!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Reader meets Sergeant Barnes on her way to New York. He’s shipping out for England, but it’s only the beginning of their love story.

Word Count:2,252

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, War, Injuries, Loss of Limb, Bittersweet

A/N: My entry for @just-some-drabbles Rom-Com challenge. Thank you and I hope you like it.
This is not canon, also the plot was adapted from an episode of Cold Case (7x20 if I remember correctly) 

Originally posted by complete-fandom-trashhh

You were vaguely aware of someone making their way down the aisle of the bus, too preoccupied with your book. They cleared their throat softly, catching your attention.

Your heart kicked up as you met the stranger’s soft blue eyes. He was wearing a military uniform; a dark olive-green suit and a matching hat. He motioned toward the empty seat beside you.

“This seat taken?”

You shook your head.

While he placed his bag in the overhead storage space above the seats, you glanced around the bus. He could have easily found a seat somewhere else. The bus wasn’t anywhere close to crowded.

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Top Ten Awesome Fanfics *

* yep, not “all-time favourite”, because I cannot choose in all objectivity only ten fics. This list is a list of ten fics* chosen in my five main fandoms that I love and feel like they should be read, but it could have been ten others … It’s very hard to choose. One day I’ll do a real masterpost fic rec …
* yes, I’ve cheated. There are waaaaay more than just ten fics here … Sorry not sorry.

The lovely @justkeeponthegrass had a brillant idea : to make a collection of our favourite fanfics to show writers just how much we appreciate, respect and admire their work. I personally owe a great deal to fanfic writers, especially in the Merlin fandom, for they helped me get through a very hard period of my life. Fanfic writers have been and are constant companions of my life, whether I’m sad, happy, tired or feeling excited, they always deliver, they are amazing people who do an amazing work just because they like it. I admire the hell out of any of you, and the following ten titles, plus the special and honorable mentions, are me trying to tell you how much you mean. Very, very long post incoming …

Originally posted by whyso-se-ri0us

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Knuckles : Boxer!Ashton (Part 1)

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight | Part Nine

[Following anyone/everyone who leaves some form of thoughtful feedback x]

- Knuckles Playlist


Talk about a third date. 

If it were any other boy you’d probably be out at a restaurant or something on a night like this, flirting nervously across the dinner table while you try to decipher if he likes you enough to take your relationship to the next level. You’ve gone through the dating routine once or twice before, and had a pretty good idea of what to expect; if someone had told you a month ago you’d be standing right outside of a boxing ring while your date and another shirtless man beat each other to a pulp, you would’ve thought they were crazy. 

The crowd around you gasps and your own stomach lurches, empathetically feeling the punch that Ashton just took to the cheek. Blood is already dripping down his face, the source of it located just over his left eyebrow. He looks like a mess yet he’s still on his feet somehow, determined to keep retaliating, apparently even if it kills him. 

“Don’t worry,” Calum says next to you after noticing your concerned expression, “I’ve seen him win in worse conditions.“ 

You want to smile, appreciative of his effort to ease your mind, but every couple of seconds Ashton keeps getting hit, hard. It doesn’t matter to you whether he wins or loses, you just hope that your fourth date won’t have to take place beside a hospital bed. 

"Is it almost over?” you ask Calum, too new to this sport to know the ins and outs of the rule book. 

“One more round after th–Oh!

You missed what happened, but look back at the ring to find the opponent, a man named Donovan Diaz, struggling to stand up. Given the cheers from the audience, it sounds like most of the people here have their money on Ashton, and he just brought them one step closer to profiting. 

The round concludes and the fighters return to their separate corners, two teams quickly making their way into the ring to begin fixing up their boys. You wish you were allowed up there, yearning just to talk to Ashton, to treat him gently after witnessing the beating he’s taken for the last half an hour. Sitting on the short stool between rounds is the closest he’s been to you all night, each break like a minute-long tease that only makes you want to be near him more. You haven’t even said hi to him yet, not given the chance to do so before the match started. 

He knows you’re here, though. He spotted you next to his friend Calum after walking away from the first round, and lost focus for a brief second to give you a smile and a flirty wink. Some crowd members noticed, chiming in with playful remarks and whistles, causing your cheeks to burn bashfully. Ashton seemed so confident and well put together then, but that spark isn’t as evident now that he can barely keep his swollen eyes open while his crew tidies up his blood-splattered face. 

"How long has he been doing this?” you turn to Calum again. 

He snorts. “Boxing or fighting?" 

"Is there a difference?" 

"Ashton only started boxing a little over two years ago,” Calum explains, “But he, uh, used to get in a lot of trouble before that." 

"You mean he used to get in street fights.”

Calum pauses too long for it to go unnoticed. “Look, his childhood wasn’t the best, y'know? His old man used to come home from the bar every night and use the kid as a punching bag." 

You glance at Ashton as he spits a mixture of water and blood into a bucket. His face is clean enough now to show the dark bruises rapidly blooming under his eyes. He’s nodding along to something one of his crew members is saying to him, his earlier enthusiasm overcome by exhaustion. It hurts your stomach to picture a younger version of him having to endure the same type of pain. 

"Maybe don’t tell him I mentioned that,” Calum says. “I don’t think that’s what he meant when he asked me to put in a good word." 

You almost laugh, reminded of Ashton’s charm. Of course he asked Calum to talk to you about him. Even when he’s busy in the ring, knocking the hell out of another man for the entertainment of hundreds of people, he still wants you to like him. 

The next round begins sooner than you’re ready for it to, signaled by the chime of a bell. Ashton and Donovan force themselves to their feet, meeting each other and the referee in the center of the ring. The audience is much louder now that the end of the match is in sight, aggressively encouraging their favorite boxers to win for their own selfish reasons. You unintentionally hold your breath as the men begin circling each other; every movement sets you on edge, unsure of how many more times Ashton can get hit without collapsing. You’d like to think he’s as tough as Calum says he is, but that doesn’t defeat the fact that he’s human. 

Ashton stealthily dodges a sudden punch swung at him, and doesn’t hesitate to backlash with a few of his own. If anyone in the stands wasn’t already ejected from their seat with adrenaline, they certainly aren’t sitting now. Ashton seems to have found a groove, delivering a number of rhythmic hits to one targeted area on Donovan, mercilessly backing him into the ropes. You bite your lip anxiously. Calum cheers beside you. For a moment it looks like Ashton might actually win this thing. 

But Donovan refuses to go down that easily, and at the last second pulls a move that switches his and Ashton’s positions, forcing Ashton against the ropes instead. With his momentum Donovan makes up for the blow that missed before, striking Ashton’s exposed stomach directly, and sending him to his knees. He buckles over, extending one gloved hand to hold himself up while the other instinctively covers his newly found weak spot. 

"Come on, Ashton,” you whisper under your breath, your words of encouragement getting lost under the roar of the relentless crowd. 

It takes a second or two for him recover, but Ashton proves to have not run out of strength yet. He begins to sit up slowly, giving the audience the show they came for, but before he can get his second knee off the ground, Donovan returns with one last malicious strike to Ashton’s jaw, and then it’s over. Ashton limply drops to his side, and he doesn’t try to get back up. 

Your eyes widen with fear. The crowd immediately starts to shout at Donovan, booing and cursing amongst derogatory names. It’s one thing to be upset over the results of a fight, but these people sound genuinely offended. 

“Diaz better get disqualified for that,” Calum remarks angrily. 

You look to him, hoping he’ll fill you in on what’s going on, but he’s too caught up in his own rage to be of any informant to you. 

Ashton still hasn’t gotten up yet, and that worries you. This is the first time you’ve ever seen someone get knocked out; you don’t know how long it’s supposed to last. The referee and the man who cleaned Ashton’s cut earlier have surrounded him, trying to get him to respond. What’s probably less than 20 seconds feels like an eternity to you, but to your relief you finally catch a glimpse of Ashton’s hand moving, followed by the rest of his body. The two helpful men grab Ashton’s toned arms to lift him up while a third person joins the ring to contribute to leading Ashton down the steps. Once he’s on his way to the locker rooms, the ref exchanges hushed words with a few other officials on the side, then crosses the ring to talk to Donovan, who looks more angry than ever.

“Can we go see him?” you ask Calum, not completely expecting an answer. 

“Hang on,” he brushes you off, keeping his focus on the referee. Your attempt to wait patiently fails miserably, the nerves in your stomach driving you insane. 

Eventually the announcement is made that Donovan, as Calum predicted, has been disqualified from the fight. You’re not sure what he did wrong and quite frankly you don’t really care, as long as Ashton’s okay. 

“Good,” Calum mutters his distaste, glaring at Donovan. “Alright, let’s go." 

Nobody’s sitting in their chairs anymore so you have to keep your eye on Calum as he guides you through the sea of people, taking a turn down the wide hallway that Ashton disappeared through. The noise behind you begins to lose its volume the farther down the hall you go, and you’re grateful to be able to hear yourself think again. Crowded areas have never been your favorite. Calum takes a left turn and you follow suit, almost running into him when he stops in front of a door guarded by a tall man in all black attire. 

"Go ahead,” he says to Calum, opening the door for him. Calum walks in without a hitch but you aren’t given such an easy privilege. “Who are you?” The guard holds out his arm to block your path. 

Before you can try to reason with him, Calum speaks on your behalf. 

“She’s his girlfriend." 

You swallow, knowing that’s not entirely true. 

But it’s enough. "Go on in,” the guard steps back, granting you access to the private area. 

You thank him politely as you walk into the room, even more nervous now that you’re this much closer to being face-to-face with Ashton. He’d have every right to be in a bad mood after what just happened, so you hope you’re not intruding, that he still wants to see you. 

The people from Ashton’s team come into view and Calum offers a passing greeting, turning right to walk into a second section of the room where the lockers are actually located. 

“He asked to be alone,” one of the individuals warns, and you recognize him from the breaks in between rounds. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Calum waves them off, walking into the area anyway one pace ahead of you. 

Over Calum’s shoulder you see Ashton sitting on a bench, holding what looks to be an ice pack to his colorfully bruised face. His hands have been relieved of the boxing gloves but not the tape that’s still wrapped around his tattered fists. The sweat his body was sporting in the ring doesn’t shine over his skin as much, the air conditioning of the locker room cooling it down, but loose curls of hair that managed to escape his bun still stick damply to his forehead. He’s a proper mess, but a handsome one at that. 

“You look like crap,” is the first thing Calum addresses. 

Ashton opens his eyes, apparently unaware that the two of you walked in, and smirks. “You should see the other guy." 

"Mess him up pretty good?" 

"Him and his five friends." 

"Right, mate, now you’re full of it." 

They both chuckle, and you’re relieved to find that Ashton still has his sense of humor. He takes a deep breath, directing his attention to you. 

"Hey, gorgeous." 

You smile sympathetically. "How’re you feeling?" 

"I’ve been worse." 

"Not by much,” Calum interjects. “Quit letting people beat the shit out of you, would ya?" 

"Good advice. I’ll try that next time.”

“Happy to help.” Calum lets his hand fall on Ashton’s shoulder, who grunts in pain. “Anyway, glad to see you’re still alive,” he takes a step back, glancing at you, “I’ll give you two a minute." 

Calum strolls into the other part of the locker room, leaving you alone with Ashton. Over your last few dates you’ve grown used to having him all to yourself, and this is how you prefer it. 

He turns to you again, his expression one that suggests he knows he’s in trouble. 

"Ashton,” you sigh, closing the distance between the two of you by sitting next to him on the bench. 

“You shouldn’t see me like this,” he says. 

“A little late for that, isn’t it?” You reach for the ice pack pressed to his cheek. “Let me." 

He allows you hold it there for him as your other arm snakes over his shoulders. He scoots closer, cuddling into your chest, accepting your affection like a sleepy child. He’s hurting more than he’s letting on, and you’re the only person he doesn’t feel obligated to put on a brave face for. 

Your fingers tamper with the band holding his hair back, pulling it out and catching the short strands between your fingers. He lets out a content breath, relaxing into your touch. 

"You scared me,” you confess.

“Did I?”

“You weren’t getting up." 

He smiles inappropriately, taking away from the seriousness of your concern. "You don’t have to worry about me, angel." 

You beg to differ, but opt to delay that talk, unwilling to admit how much you’ve grown to care for Ashton over the short amount of time you’ve been seeing each other. The information Calum spilt earlier about Ashton’s childhood only added to the fire, and you can’t help but wring your heart over the thought of the unconditional nurturing little Ashton was denied as you run your nails soothingly along his scalp. 

"You’re much better at this than Calum is,” he murmurs. 

“At what?" 

"Snuggling." 

You laugh, still impressed by his lighthearted attitude. "He told me you asked him to put in a good word." 

Ashton smiles, shifting to curl one arm behind your back to wrap around your waist, and lazily grazes your stomach with his other hand. "How’d he do?" 

"I’m here, aren’t I?" 

He gives your side a light squeeze. "You are,” he says appreciatively, then comes to a realization. “You are. Don’t take this the wrong way, but how’d you get in here?" 

"Oh–Calum, uh, told the guy outside that I’m your girlfriend, and he bought it." 

"My girlfriend,” Ashton echoes to himself. “I like the sound of that." 

You’re about to vocalize your agreement when you’re cut off by a sudden commotion coming from the entrance. It sounds like someone forced their way inside, despite the many demands yelling for them to stop. 

"Where is he?” an accented voice disrupts the otherwise calmed atmosphere. “Irwin!” is shouted before the man the voice is coming from storms around the corner, turning out to be none other than a fuming Donovan Diaz. 

He comes to a halt when he sees the two of you cozied up on the bench, mockery already taking form in his eyes. “Aw, isn’t this a sweet picture.”

You’re not surprised that Ashton retracts his arms from you and sits up, internalizing the pain in the face of someone less forgiving. Recomposed and impenetrable, he addresses you softly. “Will you get me a water bottle?” His eyes flash to a cooler on the far side of the room, making the message clear. He’s not asking for the sake of a favor, just to send you away from this confrontation in case Donovan unpredictably tries anything. 

Begrudgingly, you get up and leave Ashton’s side, trusting that he knows what he’s doing.

“Yeah, grab one for me, too,” Donovan taunts, clearly enjoying himself. 

“What do you want?” Ashton cuts to the chase. 

Donovan rolls his jaw, taking a threatening step closer. “I’m just making sure you know you didn’t win that fight.”

“Nah, I didn’t win. You were just disqualified,” Ashton retorts. “Thanks for that illegal hit, by the way." 

"What can I say? You piss me off. I couldn’t help myself." 

You open the lid of the cooler, shuffling the melting ice as you remove a plastic bottle from it. 

"Hope it was worth it.” Ashton leans against the back of the bench, tilting his chin up to rest his head, a smug smirk plastered across his face. 

“What the fuck is so funny, huh?” Donovan steps closer again, and you flinch despite not being in his path. Would he really start another fight right here? 

You’re not willing to find out, knowing that even in his current condition Ashton would have too much pride to back down. With a full water bottle in hand, you begin to make your way back over to the bench, standing behind its corner cautiously. 

“Get out,” you dryly demand, protective instincts kicking in. 

Donovan raises his eyebrows, almost acting impressed. He glances you up and down, chuckling patronizingly. “That’s cute, princess. You think you’re bad?" 

"I wouldn’t mess with her, Don,” Ashton warns from his seat. On the outside he looks unbothered, but there’s a new, intimidating edge to his voice, one that you hope you never find yourself on the receiving end of. “She’ll win." 

Donovan must notice it as well, staring you both down one last time before rolling his jaw again and leisurely retreating, acting like it’s his choice to walk away.

Your shoulders slump after he’s gone, unaware of the tension you were holding until this point. Now that you can think clearly again you’re not sure where everyone in the other room went–surely they would have interfered if they had been around to see Donovan walk in. 

"Well we’re even,” Ashton declares, “You sure just scared the hell out of me." 

You refill the seat beside him, and he repositions himself to face you fully, placing his hand on your hip to slide you closer. In the process you cup his face, careful not to irritate his injuries, and connect your lips to his. 

It’s a short kiss that Ashton wasn’t expecting, but craves more of as soon as you pull away. 

"That was nice,” he says sweetly, feathering his fingers down your cheek and pouting your bottom lip with his thumb. “If the feeling in my face would just return I’m sure it’d be even better." 

You laugh, defeatedly lowering your head to his shoulder and hiding your face in his neck. 

"There’ll be plenty more for you to feel later.”

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven  | Part Eight  | Part Nine

Masterlist

My Somber Heart

Summary: Trying to hide a vulnerable moment from your longtime crush, Bucky Barnes.

Characters/Relationships: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Heartbroken angst; mentions of cheating; crying; fluff

A/N: This is my entry for @wanderlustingandwandering‘s 800 Follower Celebration Writing Challenge. Seriously guys, go follow Allie. She’s the absolute best and I loved doing this one-shot for her. 

My prompts were: “I am NOT crying!”, “I’m glad I cried all my makeup off”, and “and they say romance is dead”. 

Masterlist

Originally posted by dailyevanstan

Keep reading

Stop

Originally posted by words-plus-wisdom


Pairing: Jeff Atkins x Reader

Request: “15 - Jeff Atkins”

Prompt:

15. “It was the fifth time I’m calling her phone.”

Word count: 1.960

Posted: 14th of May 2017

A/N: An imagine in a Sunday night. It sucks that tomorrow is Monday again, I am not ready for the struggles that I may face this week. I hate school, because people suck!
Anyways, I hope you like this imagine and I would love to receive some feedbacks from you. Thank you so much for reading.

P.S.: I am not taking part 2 requests as I have lots of imagines to write. Sorry!

- G. x

Link: Prompt list

Warning: some bad words


“I’m going on a beer run soon, babe,” Your boyfriend, Jeff, informed you as he left some sweet and gentle kisses on your neck. “do you want to go with me?”

“Jeff, you aren’t driving!” You stopped him as you knew that he had some drinks during the night. “Ask someone else to buy some beer.”

You were in one of Jessica’s parties and people were having fun, alcohol was the main protagonist of the party and it was Jeff’s task to buy some if they ever ran out of them.

“Babe, I’m fine.” He sat on the empty side of the couch beside you and he grabbed your hand. “I had two beers, two hours ago.”

“Jeff!” You warned him, but he just let out some soft giggles. He knew how protective you were when it came to alcohol and your boyfriend. You hated him when he put his life in risks and you couldn’t help but discuss over it.

“Babe, I am sober and I promise.” He assured you as he pressed a quick kiss on your forehead. “So, are you coming with me?”

“Alright, fine!” You rolled your eyes as Jeff gave you a sweet wide smile. His smile revealed his white and perfect teeth and you honestly loved them so much, his smile was so contagious that it convinced you to smile back at him.

“I love you so much.” Jeff whispered and your world stopped as you felt some butterflies in your stomach. You honestly felt the sincerity in his voice and it still hit you every time, nevertheless you were together for months.

“I love you too, Atkins!” You giggled as you pressed your lips on his cheek, pulling him closer to you.

“I love you more, no lies!” He debated and before you could open your mouth to speak, he pulled you by your chin and he leant in to give you a sweet kiss.

It made you smile and you felt the sparks running through your veins as he deepened the kiss between the two of you. He pulled you closer to him as he played with your hair and you seriously found that adorable and relaxing.

“Atkins, we ran out of beer!” Some alcoholic asshole stated and he interrupted the kiss between the two of you. Jeff groaned in annoyance and you could say that he preferred to stay with you on the couch rather than buying some beer for the crowd.

“Go on, Atkins!” People cheered for Jeff and you saw your boyfriend rolling his eyes as you were both obliged to stop what you were doing.

“Alright, I’m going!” He finally stated and the crowd hollered louder. You both stood up from the couch, him grabbing your hand tightly to lead you the way out.

You went to the parking lot, but Sheri’s white Jeep was blocking your boyfriend’s car, meaning that you needed to ask Sheri to move her car.

“Wait, I am calling Sheri.” You offered and he nodded as he wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his chin on the crook of your neck. You brought your phone out of your pocket and searched for Sheri’s name in your phone book.

You waited for her to answer as the phone rang for several times, until it led you to her voicemail.

“No answer.” You stated and you tried calling her again, your fingers sliding smoothly on the screen of the device. You felt Jeff giving you some kisses on your neck and you felt shivers running down your spine. Your boyfriend was such a flirt, but you loved him just like that.

“Let’s search for her inside then.” Jeff proposed and you just nodded. He grabbed your hand as he led the way back inside Jessica’s house. He brought you with him, because he was afraid that some maniacs might hit on you, mostly when they were all drunk.

You tried calling Sheri as you followed Jeff around the house. You even asked around for her, but people would just slur or laugh because they were dead drunk.

“Did she answer?” Jeff turned his head at you and you just clicked your tongue in response. “Shit.” He swore under his breath.

It was the fifth time I am calling her phone.” You sighed and you tiredly shoved your phone in your pocket as soon as you heard her voicemail once again.

“Sheri!” Your boyfriend shouted for joy as his face brighten. He finally saw Sheri and you silently thanked God for it.

“Yeah?” Sheri looked at your boyfriend with a wide smile, obviously, she was having a great time with her circle of friends.

“You’re blocking me in, I’ve got to go for provisions.” Jeff honestly stated as he still held your hand tightly, protecting you from the alcohol-scented people around you.

“Oh shit!” Sheri swore as the loud music boomed behind her. “Okay, I’ll be right out. I have to get home anyways.”

“No, it’s alright. I don’t want to make you leave.” Jeff kindly and sweetly said, being the sweetest angel that he was.

“No, no, no!” Sheri exclaimed as she shook her head, her black curly hair following her head’s movements. “I’m staying at my dad’s, which comes with a curfew. I’ll get my keys and be right out.”

“Thank you, ma'am!” Jeff smiled and Sheri just raised her shoulders.

You’ve always liked Sheri, she was fun to be with and she was always cheerful. She would worry whenever you showed some cold treatments to your boyfriend and you could say that she was the first one who supported your relationship with Jeff.

“Take care!” Sheri shouted to you and Jeff as she started her car’s engine. Hannah was sitting on her passenger’s seat and you gained some weak hand waves from her.

“You too!” You shouted back and gave Hannah some energetic hand waves.

You then watch Sheri pull her car out of the parking and you followed the white Jeep as it made its way to Hannah’s house.

“Let’s go?” Jeff asked you and you just nodded. You followed him in his car and you carefully put your seatbelt on.

“Babe, you aren’t drunk and you are sure that you can do this, right?” You assured yourself with a question and he just laughed at you. “I’m serious, Atkins!”

“Yes, Babe! I am sure that I can do this and I am not drunk, promise.” He answered, starting the engine. “I can even write an essay if you like or do a home run for you.”

“Idiot!” You both laughed as he started to drive towards the store. You admitted that he was still sober and he drove normally and carefully. He wouldn’t want to cause any accidents, mostly when you were with him. He didn’t want to hurt you, not even once.

You both listened to some music and you went to the store to buy some pints of beer for the whole crowd. The party has just started and the night was still young, so you both decided to buy more than the expected.

“That was the last one!” You stated as you handed him the last box of beer from your push cart.

“Great!” He exclaimed as he carefully closed the door. You put the push cart back on its place and Jeff started to drive again once you got back in his car.

Music was blasting in your car and you were both singing and dancing as you followed the beat of the loud song. You honestly enjoyed this party more than the one in Jessica’s house. It was perfect, because you had the only person that you really needed to be with that night.

“All you have to do is stay a minute, just take your time,” You sang as Jeff hummed the beat of it. He was smiling as he was driving, eyes concentrated on the road. “the clock is ticking, so stay.”

“I will always stay, babe!” Jeff assured you, stealing some little glances to admire your face. You giggled at him as the sweetness of your boyfriend kept on flattering you.

“Always?” You asked him with a soft toned voice and he nodded slowly, still with a wide smile on his face.

“Always!” He assured you and he looked at you for a while. He reached for your hand and caressed it gently.

You were having a sweet moment together, but it was interrupted as a bright light blinded your eyes and you noticed that there was a car going through the street with its full speed, obviously exceeding the speed limit.

“Jeff, stop!” You shouted as loud as you could to get your boyfriend’s attention and he harshly pressed the car’s break with his foot, the car screeching its wheels in a high-pitched tone. You almost bumped your head on the car’s airbags, but you luckily didn’t get hurt. You heard some beer bottles break from the back seat, but it was one of the last things that you were worried of.

“Oh my God, are you okay?” Jeff worriedly asked to you, his eyes was masked with fear and terror. You could say that he was really worried for you.

“I am, Babe.” You quickly wrapped your arms around him as tears started to stream down your face. You were terrified and your heart kept on throbbing quickly. “Are you?”

“I am.” Jeff hugged you back tightly and he caressed your hair. “I’m sorry, babe. I am really sorry.” He whispered as he dealt with his nervous heart too.

“I-It’s okay, I was just afraid.” Jeff wiped your tears once you broke the hug between the two of you.

You thought of the possible things that might’ve happened to you and Jeff and a tight knot was formed in your stomach. You thanked yourself that you joined Jeff and you somehow managed to stop him in time.

“They must put a stop sign here.” Jeff demanded as he tried to calm himself, his breathing was almost normal and your fear has almost vanished. He was shaking, though. The thought of that he almost hurt you crashed him. What if things went worse? He knew that he couldn’t forgive himself, if ever.

“They really must, this is dangerous!” You agreed as you cleared your vision by wiping your tears better. Your heart was still beating abnormally and you assumed that it was for the happening. “Wait, is that Hannah?”

“Yeah.” Jeff answered as he tried to focus his eyes on the silhouette that stood in front of the gasoline station. “Wasn’t she with Sheri?” Jeff corrugated his forehead as he curiously asked you the obvious.

Jeff slowly drove towards her and stopped just right in front of her. “Hannah?”

You softly called her and she quickly turned her head in your direction. “Didn’t Sheri offer herself to bring you home?”

Hannah just nodded, eyes concentrated to something else. Her body was shaking as she absentmindedly talked to you. “Sheri.”

“What happened, Hannah?” Jeff peeked to the opened window to see Hannah’s red and teary face.

“Stop sign.” Hannah emotionlessly pointed the knocked stop sign at the edge of the road and you quickly shot a shocked glance to Jeff.

“Damn it, Sheri.” You cursed under your breath as you realized that you almost died because of her.

Your body became paralyzed, so as Jeff’s body. Everything just hit your senses and you realized how destiny could be an asshole sometimes. Many things might’ve happened during that moment. Many things.

You still couldn’t believe that you were safe and you kept murmuring some messages of gratefulness as you calmed yourself down, holding Jeff’s hands tightly.

You could’ve died, but you didn’t. Luckily.



46. What if I told you I’ve been in love with you since we were kids.

When Victor had first received the invitation from the Tsarevich, he’d had half a mind to decline.

But then Yakov had scolded him, telling Victor would be insolent at best and dangerous at worst. Victor couldn’t deny that, knowing Friedrich as well as he did. Ever since they were teenagers, Victor guiding the would-be Tsar around the ice, Friedrich had always made his temper known. Victor had often found him unpleasant at times in their youth, the callous way he would treat his servants rankling Victor’s sensitivities.

Once Victor’s coaching had ended when Friedrich entered the political sphere at eighteen, Victor had swallowed his distaste, taken the money he’d been granted and fled further West into the continent. Never in the last decade did Victor think the Tsarevich’s reach would stretch as far as Vienna, but here was Victor being proven unfortunately wrong.

Victor bowed to the doorman at the Hotel Imperial, handing his invitation over with a careful flick of the wrist. The doorman nodded, calling over an escort to bring Victor to what was no doubt going to be one of the more grand ballrooms. Friedrich always had a taste for fine things, even by royal standards. If the Tsar ever did die, (which looked unlikely, as the codger seemed intent of living forever), Friedrich would likely bankrupt Russia in a week.

Not that Victor cared, mind.

Victor followed his escort up the Royal Staircase, adjusting the buttons of his shirt from where the white cuffs sat below the sleeves of his black tailcoat. When Victor had first suggested a short jacket, preferring the more daring fashion of it, Yakov had nearly thrown the kettle he’d been boiling at the time at Victor’s head. While it had definitely been worth it to rile Yakov up, Victor knew that he’d do better to try and emulate the Russian aesthetic. Like a good countryman.

The escort took Victor’s overcoat, bowing low and opening the door to the ballroom for him. As expected, Victor was at first blinded by the grandness of it. Gilded walls, like the palaces of home and ornate chandeliers dripping glass and sparkling light across the room. There was chatter and music, and the smell of wine.

‘Victor Nikiforov!’ the escort announced to the room, Victor just biting his lip in time to stop a sigh of resignation.

The ballroom was full of what was undeniably an almost exclusively Russian crowd. Victor recognised some of the faces from his own readings and the papers- bankers and politicians, the odd ballerina. Russia must be empty, Victor thought to himself, taking a glass of champagne from a passing waiter.

‘Victor!’ A voice boomed and Victor pushed his hair from his face, preparing himself.

‘Your highness,’ Victor said in familiar Russian as Friedrich approached, bowing low. Friedrich was reflecting almost as much as the chandelier above him, Imperial military jacket bespeckled in shining brass buttons and gleaming medals that sat proudly against his chest. Knowing Friedrich, he was probably wearing them in the prayer of a war.

‘Oh, Victor!’ Friedrich said, grabbing Victor by the shoulders and shoving him upright. ‘Don’t be so formal. I couldn’t have that, dear friend.’

Victor blinked, truly surprised at being called dear. ‘Then what shall you have me call you?’

‘Nothing unpleasant,’ Friedrich replied with a wink, dark eyes hooded beneath his thick eyebrows. He had grown a beard in the last ten years, shaven square and elegant like his father’s. He had not grown much over the last ten years, only brushing Victor’s nose. Victor inclined his head.

‘I would never dream of it,’ Victor said with an easy grin, toasting his glass to Friedrich. Friedrich beamed from behind his beard, clapping Victor so hard on the back it had him choke on his sip of champagne. Hiding his cough, Victor let himself be led into the crowd.

‘Everyone, you must know who this is!’ Friedrich announced to a group of rather impressive looking men and women. Dressed in their finery and regarding Victor in his modest tailcoat with mild interest. ‘Victor Nikiforov, the ice dancer!’

‘Oh yes,’ a portly man said, nodding his red face in Victor’s direction. ‘I’ve heard of you. You have that- how do you say- ice show? Is that it?’

Victor rolled his shoulders. ‘Yes, I do. But only during the winter season, naturally. Otherwise, I spend my time with the ballet.’

‘A waste!’ a woman with blonde hair said, leaning into her husband’s side like what Victor had said almost had her swoon with misfortune. ‘To have such talent lost to the continent. I’ve seen your shows. The Bolshoi would be happy to have you.’

‘Victor was never one for patriotism,’ Friedrich said, giving Victor another strong pat on the back. Victor was rather getting the impression that Friedrich wanted Victor to be hunched over as often as possible, perhaps to make Friedrich appear taller. ‘Fled the old country the moment you were free to, didn’t you, my friend?’

‘Call it wanderlust,’ Victor said airily, taking another sip of champagne before he said something he’d regret.

‘I’d say it was lust of a sort,’ Friedrich said crudely and Victor coughed into his champagne, embarrassed. ‘You were always one to follow a pretty face!’

Victor didn’t know what to say to that, glancing around their company for some inclination of what to do. The other men laughed while their wives smiled benignly, which really only further Victor’s discomfort. He did not appreciate being laughed at.

‘Speaking of such, I must introduce you to someone,’ Friedrich said, taking Victor’s arm again and leading him down the ballroom. Victor smiled to those who nodded to him as they passed, guests bending low to Friedrich who paid them no attention. ‘I must say I didn’t even know you were here in Vienna. Ignorant, on my part, I know. But thankfully, my betrothed knew of your show and insisted we attend. He has quite an interest in skating, you see.’

‘I see,’ Victor replied, not really listening as he finished off his champagne. Then, Victor realised what Friedrich had said to him and stopped so suddenly, he nearly toppled them both to the ground. ‘Forgive me, but did you say your betrothed?’

Friedrich looked at Victor with great amusement. ‘I am a twenty-eight year old man, Victor. Did you think me incapable of finding one?’

‘No… No, of course not,’ Victor said, dazed. His mind was racing and Victor looked over Friedrich’s shoulder, paying far more attention to the people around them. ‘I knew you had an arrangement.’

‘A rather fortunate one, as it has proven to be,’ Friedrich said, puffing out his medaled chest. Victor was certain the flute in his hand would break, he was gripping the stem so tightly. Friedrich seemed not to notice Victor’s anxiety, starting to walk again. ‘He’s quite the beauty, though I’m sure you’ve heard already. Japan performed well in that regard. They must be awfully interested.’

Victor was barely listening, following Friedrich like he were dreaming. Victor felt weightless, without an anchor. His thoughts were running ahead of him, all the imagined fantasies he’d indulged in as a young man rushing down him in a wave of nostalgia that his heart reeling.

They were almost to the end of the ballroom, towards the large windows that led to the balcony overlooking the street. And through the fine chiffon curtains, Victor saw a figure.

The man was wearing what had to be the Japanese fashion, similar to what he had the first time Victor had met him as children. Shimmering satin of a deep, blood red with embroidered black and white spirals that crept up the carefully folded fabric like rose vines. He turned when Friedrich approached, dark eyes catching the golden light of the ballroom and Victor felt time stop around him.

Yuuri.

The years had been exceptionally kind to Yuuri. He had grown tall, though not as tall as Victor, and his frame willowy. Like a dancer, Victor thought as Yuuri’s slim arms came together in front of the thick, silk belt that bound his ensemble together. The dark hair Victor remembered seemed a tad longer, combed back over Yuuri’s head quite fashionably.

And though Yuuri’s face was not as round as Victor remembered it being as a child, his eyes were just as warm. Like firewood embers, earth-brown and catching like flint in the light.

‘Victor,’ Friedrich said, holding a hand out towards Yuuri like he were a particularly fine piece of art. Not that Victor would disagree with such an assessment, as it were. In heavily accented English, Friedrich introduced; ‘This is my fiancé, Yuuri Katsuki.’

Yuuri smiled when he met Victor’s eyes. It was a small thing, just the barest curl of his full lips and then Yuuri was bending low, his arms in front of him.

‘It’s a pleasure to meet you, Victor,’ Yuuri said in English so elegant, it was almost without accent to Victor’s ear. As he straightened back up, Victor was still frozen, all manners and protocol slipping from his mind entirely. Yuuri titled his head, dark eyes burnt gold from the light around them.

‘I think you have him quite stunned,’ Friedrich said and Yuuri looked away, his cheeks colouring. Friedrich laughed and it broke Victor from his reverie, looking to the Tsarevich in a panic. ‘Oh, do not trouble yourself, my friend. Even the court quite forgets the look of their own shoes when they see him.’

‘You are too kind, Your Highness,’ Yuuri said blithely, almost sounding rehearsed to Victor’s ear. He doubted Friedrich’s English was strong enough to pick it up, however. Friedrich stepped over to Yuuri, but Victor noted Yuuri’s slight shift. The way his hips angled slightly away.

‘What is the use of you if I can’t inspire jealousy?’ Friedrich asked, touching Yuuri’s elbow. Victor looked down, unable to stop himself. He saw the satin of Yuuri’s robe bunch, Friedrich was gripping so tight. ‘Yuuri insisted we see your show and once I recognised you, I simply had to invite you to our gathering. Only Russia’s finest, I assure you.’

‘I’m honoured,’ Victor said truthfully, looking to Yuuri’s face. Yuuri glanced up at him from beneath his dark lashes, cheeks still pink. ‘If I have ever done anything you found engaging, then I would consider myself achieved.’

‘Such flattery!’ Friedrich cried, releasing Yuuri and stepping away. He patted Victor’s shoulder again. When he spoke, it was in Russian, Yuuri’s face going blank at the sound of it; ‘I trust with such a sweet tongue you can keep Yuuri entertained while I meet with the General?’

Victor could only nod, not trusting himself to speak. Friedrich smiled at the both of them, before stepping back into the ballroom. Victor stayed where he was, too afraid even to move. Yuuri glanced up at him, a true smile breaking across his beautiful features.

‘Hello, again, Victor.’

‘Yuuri,’ Victor said, grinning before he could stop himself. ‘I wish I had the words, but I don’t.’

Victor walked up to Yuuri, impropriety abundant in his boldness but Victor found himself uncaring. Yuuri looked up at him, smiling so widely now his teeth were flashing between his lips. Victor reached out with his free hand, taking Yuuri’s own by the fingers. He raised it up, pressing the chilled skin to his lips.

‘I’m afraid I don’t have any gloves to offer you this time,’ Victor said, words kissed to Yuuri’s fingers. Yuuri was watching him, smile faltering only slightly.

‘You cut your hair,’ Yuuri said, hand slipping out of Victor’s grip. For a moment, Victor thought Yuuri might reach up to touch the careful sweep Victor retained over his left side, but then Yuuri’s hand was gone entirely. ‘It suits you well.’

Victor laughed. ‘You remember my hair?’

‘I remember all of you,’ Yuuri replied, before his eyes went wide. He stepped back, hands tight down at his sides. ‘Forgive me, that was untoward.’

‘It’s flattering to know you’ve thought of me,’ Victor said honestly and Yuuri blushed, turning to face the street from the balcony wall. Victor walked up beside him, his hand brushing against the silken edge of his robe. ‘I’ve thought of you as well. More often than I’m sure is proper for me to admit. Seeing you again is… Like something from a dream.’

Yuuri went nearly as red as his robe, blinking up at Victor with such shock that Victor was sure he’d overstepped. He was just about apologise when Yuuri laughed quietly, pushing a stray hair behind his ear.

‘You’re a skilled flatterer. No wonder you dance so well.’

‘It is truth,’ Victor said earnestly, placing his empty champagne flute down on the balcony wall. He watched Yuuri, careful not to push. ‘I find myself wondering if you kept the gloves I gave you. If you ever tried skating. If you ever think of me. To know at least one of those things for certain is more than I could ever have imagined all these years.’

Yuuri said nothing to that, eyes back down on the street below. Victor saw Yuuri tug on his lip with his teeth, almost like he were concentrating. Perhaps on the carriages that were making their way through the snow that lay across the cobbles.

‘Tell me, Yuuri,’ Victor said, trying to charm and stepping back to appreciate Yuuri’s dress once again. ‘Are you actively seeking a poetic death of cold? Every time I meet you, you seem intent on standing out in the snow.’

‘I must confess a secret,’ Yuuri said, looking up with a bashful nervousness. Yuuri inclined his head behind them. ‘I don’t care much for these political parties. I don’t really perform well with an audience, despite what His Highness says. I’d rather be out here alone and cold, than warm and with those people.’

Victor laughed, charmed as he had been at seventeen. ‘I certainly can’t blame you for that. I ran from the whole country. But I can tell you a secret, so you don’t feel too bad for it. Might be a dreadful secret though.’

Yuuri smiled, eyes coy. ‘I’m sure I could pardon you.’

Victor stepped closer, waiting for Yuuri to meet his eye. He watched Yuuri’s face, traced the lines of the cheeks Victor remembered and the lips he’d dreamed of.

‘What if I told you that I have been in love with you since we were children?’ Victor asked, voice low with an emotion too dangerous to name. Yuuri looked at Victor, his brown eyes round.

‘Then I would say you were a fool,’ Yuuri replied, breathless and it put a fire in Victor’s heart. ‘Who says such things?’

‘Fools, I’m told,’ Victor teased back, cautious but not adverse to the tension that gathered between them. It reminded him of the thunderous clouds that would roll over Vienna in the autumn time, promising split skies and flooding rain. Yuuri looked as devastating as a storm.

‘Or liars,’ Yuuri said, voice suddenly cold. He stepped away from Victor, hands before him again in perfect posture. He stood tall, regarding Victor warily. ‘It was good to see you again, Victor.’

Before Victor could say anything else, Yuuri turned and headed back into the ballroom, leaving Victor standing in the snow, wondering if he’d ever misstepped so badly before in his life.

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