The Silent Host (boyxboy OHSHC) - Lily - Wattpad

The Silent Host (boyxboy OHSHC)

Reads 346,614
Votes 11,748
Parts 36
Time 4h 12m

Reads 346,614
Votes 11,748
Parts 36
Time 4h 12m

boyxboy boyxboyxboy commoner craziness gayness haruhi hikaru honey kaoru kyoya love mori mute ohshc ouran romance scholarship sick tamaki texttospeech wattys2018

Cover by siimplyisaac

Words. 

Everyone takes them for granted, using them non-stop, screaming them, laughing them, blurting them. But what about when they're dying? Are they strong enough to scream out their last words? To laugh out their final sentence? To blurt out the last thing people will remember of them?

Your dying words mean everything. It's what people remember you saying last and it shouldn't be something stupid which if you get used to saying stupid things, I believe you won't have any control of what you say when you die. 

So words are valuable, and I, James Hunter, won't waste them. 

Of course I'll speak when it's important but I don't think I'll speak for anything other than that. 

But I'm dying and I don't want to be, but the choice isn't mine to make. My body- my heart has made up its mind, I'm going to die, I just have to accepting it. And if I'm going to die, I want to be remembered, I want them to visible see my face, feel my touch and hear my voice from my final hours of living. I want my family to know everything I've been holding in and I want my friends to remember me as strong. 

So what I'm going to die? Everyone does at one point. I'll just die sooner than expected and medication won't do anything to stop it, only postpone it and I don't want it postponed, when I'm ready... I'm ready and I want my heart to be on the same page as I am.All Rights Reserved

boyxboy boyxboyxboy commoner craziness gayness haruhi hikaru honey kaoru kyoya love mori mute ohshc ouran romance scholarship sick tamaki texttospeech wattys2018

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36 parts

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Echo of the Past by KiyuMiyuu

A few months ago, I bought a mug with gold gilt. On sale. Not a gift either nor because of an occasion to remember by it. Just plain, pretty mug for 15PLN. I drank my coffee from it since. I spat loose tea leaves into it. It never felt particularly significant. An ordinary object. Only when I lost it, I realised its true value. I sat comfortably at my desk one evening. Looking at my phone, I reached to take my song-text notebook. Trivial situation. My clumsy fingers were unable to avoid the mug. They allowed it to topple over, to slip from the desktop. Even though I did not see the split-second occurrence, I felt the pressure of unease. My head painted the trajectory of the fall on its own, the shattering, spillage. The loss. For a millisecond I still had hope, that I would be able to catch the mug, that I would be able to avoid what was about to happen. But I knew I was headed for failure. I don't have any superpowers. I only scalded my fingers. I looked at the mug's new shape for a long while, at the shattered pieces. At the spilling liquid. Our adventure came to an end. Irrevocably. I won't be drinking coffee from it anymore, nor spit tea leaves into it. Well. I shouldn't be sad, it was just a regular mug, just like thousands of others. I grew to like it, it kept me company throughout hundreds of warm drinks. I lost it. I hate this feeling the most. In the moment when I am losing something, I stop in my tracks, I hold my breath. It is always a very intense moment. A short one, but one that gives me the tight unpleasant feeling in my stomach. The feeling of loss is always accompanied by hope. Silly and naïve. Making me believe so strongly, that I can make it. That I will still be able to catch the mug mid-flight. When the feeling is entering the body, crawling into me I realise, how important it was to me. Whether it's Nivan or a stupid mug with gold gilt.

There's A Boy in my Bed (BoyxBoy) by Youroffputting

"We can't do this." I whisper as our lips re-connect, a tingling fire surging through my body as his hands ravage unexplored lands; my innocence dissipating away with every peck he trails down my neck. "I know we can't. That's why it's so exciting." He replies through kisses. His effortless charm intoxicates me; drowning me; hunting me; devouring me. "What if my brother finds out?" The perpetuated patter of the rain unable to subdue my groan as he digs his nails deeper into my skin. "Who cares." ********** Welcome to my story, where an innocent boy finds a not so innocent boy in his bed; where they do not so innocent things. - YOP

Songbird (Tradley AU) by TiredTris

__ "I can't love you." "...I don't understand." "And you never will. This is your what if." "I don't want you to be my what if, though." "And I didn't want him to be mine, yet here we are.' __ Tristan Evans, notorious man whore and slut of the century has lost the man he cared most about. He is severely depressed and can't go a day without his mind being plagued with what if's. So when the new boy in town reminds him of the fiancé he lost, it takes all the self control he has to be able to control himself and not suffocate his newest love interest. However, can you love someone enough to make a relationship work when you're only with them for someone else || completed 23/11/16||

The Boy Who Lived Again (boyxboy) (COMPLETED) by Fallen_Angel0416

What if you committed suicide one day. After just one horrible day that set you off. You know, the bullies and the mean classmates who want to help but don't. And your crush refuses to help you one night. What if another woke up months later with no memory? You don't know who you are, nothing seems familiar. All you know is that something draws you to a boy who died months ago right before school ended. A lot of people care that he is dead, they feel responsible. Another boy catches your attention and you can't help but feel something for him. What if he's the answer to your problem but he won't talk about the dead boy? What if he does? Can you win over his trust and figure things out or will meeting him awaken something in you, you may or may not have known? or seen coming...

Mr. Match (BoyxBoy) ✓ by euwangabrielll

I'm Finn Vasco but that's not quite important right now. I'm a pretty sarcastic guy if I'm gonna be honest. I'm closed off and I literally only have one friend. I might hate everybody in my school... but there's this guy there. He's... let's say, dreamy, someone who I thought would never even acknowledge my existence. That guy who was too damn good to be true, who was too good for me, who was too good for... everybody! You get what I'm trying to say. He's that cliché king of the campus and a popular and attractive heartthrob and with just one wink, he can send people on their knees... That sounded so wrong, anyway. So can you blame me for being over the moon when one day, he approached me only to what? ...To ask for my help courting my freaking best friend. I knew it was stupid for me to hope I'd even have any chance with him anyway. So I just agreed to help him. Even if I was hurting myself and potentially my best friend in the process, my best friend who has been there with me through the thick and thins, I still did it... I mean what could go wrong besides literally everything? So my plan was to just set my crush and my best friend up, and then everything would be alright... right? But of course, life doesn't like it when people have it easy. *** Highest Ranking #2 on #lgbtfiction #5 on #boyxboy #6 on #gay #8 on #teenfiction *** ~ WARNING: This story contains strong language and bullying. If you're not a fan of LGBTQ+ stories or BXB stories, then this story is not for you. ~ If you're gonna plagiarize, you might as well just put your clown outfit on.

Brinley ✓ | Gay MM Romance | 18+ by kittykat44

"Have you come here to die?" The voice was a bare whisper against the enveloping dark. It sounded stark and cold, with nothing in offer linked to safety. Yet, it brought me comfort of great proportions. ♛ ♛ ♛ In the dark wintry recesses of Baneberry Lane where the sun seems to set earlier than the rest, troubled passion blankets the streets. Known as the Valley of The Shadow of Death by the commoners for the dangerous folk it harbors. There's a house at the corner of the street underneath the pavement where a lone mollyboy stays with his dying mother with no inclination to trouble, save the knife he carries for protection. Brinley knows people look at him when he walks the districts. He sees the disgust in their eyes, he understands. The same dysphoria follows him everytime he looks at his body. Being born a girl, with a girls body and a girls voice took nothing from him knowing he was a boy. So he carries on, deepening his voice and binding his chest. Hoping one day, the misgendered notions would drop and people see him. Finn was born into wealth. Yet, the one thing he wants is the one thing he can never have. It's the secret he keeps against his family. Being attracted to the same sex is seen as a passing moment or a hankering in one's life. Finn knows that sex in his world is never followed by anything as absurd as love. So he carries on, still he craves and late at night, his desires take over him and he imagines what his life would feel like if he dropped all the pretenses. They could only shatter each other's worlds. ♚ ♚ ♚ Note: This is a short story set before the timeline of "Arsenic." It is not necessary to read this before reading "Arsenic", it can also be read as a standalone. No Rest For The Wicked #0.5

Fraternity by Jewell_Webster

[THIS BOOK CONTAINS MATURE THEMES WHICH IS ACCEPTABLE FOR 18+ READERS ONLY] "Yes?" His deep voice growls. It's so deep, so velvety. I can feel myself getting aroused. Aroused in ways I've never felt before. "I was told to come and speak to you about my keys." My voice is deep but the slight shake to it gives away my nerves. I can only be thankful my voice didn't break. He pauses for a second, his eyes gleaming over my body and if I was naive, I'd believe he was admiring me. But a man like him, so commanding, so powerful, he wouldn't look twice towards me. He digs into his pocket, a small set of keys emerges from them as he dangles them towards me. Why would he have my keys? As my hand moves forward, I brush the soft skin of his fingers and that tingling sensation overwhelms my body once more, but more intense than the last. My eyes shoot to meet his and I'm almost certain the smallest moan left my lips. It was small, so under my breath, I would bet my life nobody heard, but his eyes, god those eyes, they were devious, like he was trying to tell me he heard. I wanted to flush with embarrassment, how could such small contact make me act in such a way? "Thanks" I mutter. It felt like my voice was laced with arousal. I felt like I was waving a huge flag that screamed I want you. I turn on my heel, walking towards my bags, I can feel his gaze across my body, it's like I could feel the warmth from it dance across my skin. My heart is throbbing, I can feel myself pressing against my joggers and I know if anyone was to look they would see just how aroused Alpha Slater made me feel. [THIS IS AN EARLY PRE-WARNING THAT THIS BOOK WILL BE GOING THROUGH A MAJOR RE-EDITING (AGAIN) - THIS WILL BE DONE ALL AT ONCE AND NOTICE WILL BE GIVEN HERE TWO WEEKS BEFORE THE BOOK IS CHANGED. FOR NOW, FEEL FREE TO ENJOY THE BOOK AS IS]

ORIGINAL:The Boy With A Touch Of Cancer(BxB) by Jeanne_Wolf

"Leo pinned me against the wall with his hips; his hands gently gripping my wrists, keeping my arms above my head against the cool brick behind me. His beautiful, hazy blue eyes -that had turned straight quicksilver, again- were filled with such an intense, carnal desire I couldn't even look into them, so I looked over his shoulder. I saw a small group of kids from the group standing out by their cars who would easily be able to see what we were doing...or at least what Leo was doing to me. At that moment, my mind started wandering to all the things that I could be doing to him right now...but I stopped that train of thought, immediately, as it started heading to all the wrong places... All the dirty places... All of those places involving a very hard part of my body... I glanced back at Leo; his gaze was still as intense as it was before (unfortunately). He smirked at me and said confidently, "You can't ignore me forever, Ethan. You're eventually gonna fall for my charms..." Ethan Carter was focused on 2 things. 1. School (obviously) and 2. Getting over ex (it's proving to be, harder than he thought), but now he has to add dying to that list, and suddenly having feelings for a boy (which has happened once before, but Ethan tries to forget it). Leo Malone makes Ethan feel things he's never felt for another guy. Leo's sweet, patient, and understanding, the only problem is, he's a guy. Ethan tries to ignore the fact that his heart flutters every time he sees Leo, or that he can't ever stop thinking about him; but if having cancer has taught him one thing, it's that, "You have to live in the present, as you may not have a future."

Unwanted (BoyxBoy) ~Completed~ by xXPsychodicPandaXx

(WARNING!: DEPRESSING CONTENT, POORLY WRITTEN: READ AT YOUR OWN RISK) "I deserve just as much pain as she gives me." He said fully meaning it and crushing my heart all at once. "No you don't. You are just a broken person both inside and out and all you need is to be fixed. When you're fixed there is nothing but beauty deep in you." I told him truthfully as he looked into my eyes with his shining with tears. In that moment all I could do was feel my heart break for this beautiful boy. But something else was there and it was that I cared for him too. I was starting to fall for Andy. Before I could comprehend what was happening, I slowly leaned towards him and gave him a gentle kiss on his lips. It only lasted a couple of seconds, but it was enough to tell him that he wasn't alone. That he had me and together we could get through this. . *Attention:THIS STORY IS VERY VERY POORLY WRITTEN!!!!!! VERY VERY BAD!!!!!!!! It's gotten more popular than I thought it would be and for that I'm embarrassed because it's not my best work. You're free to be however critical you want to be on this<3

Always light the candles by dddfakeddd

We are too drunk and he is too close and even though we are in a room full of people, we are too alone. -------------------------- Notes: This fan fiction is dedicated to people who have experienced loss, people who were bullied, who struggled with their sexuality and or their race. People who use humour as their coping mechanism. People who feel like outcasts and freaks. People who fell in love with their best friends. You are not alone. You are Albus. And this is our story. It is also dedicated to grief, for showing me the true price for love. And most importantly dedicated to my one and only best friend. This story would not have seen the light of day, had our paths not diverged and our friendship not quietly scattered to the winds. In the closing of chapters, I made sure that the echo of our promises that we once held were not just words, but something truly heard. I will never not think of you during storms. Make sure to leave your thoughts and enjoy ;) This story can be also found on Ao3.

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Slide 1 of 10

Echo of the Past cover

There's A Boy in my Bed (BoyxBoy) cover

Songbird (Tradley AU) cover

The Boy Who Lived Again (boyxboy) (COMPLETED) cover

Mr. Match (BoyxBoy) ✓ cover

Brinley ✓ | Gay MM Romance | 18+ cover

Fraternity cover

ORIGINAL:The Boy With A Touch Of Cancer(BxB) cover

Unwanted (BoyxBoy) ~Completed~ cover

Always light the candles cover

Echo of the Past

A few months ago, I bought a mug with gold gilt. On sale. Not a gift either nor because of an occasion to remember by it. Just plain, pretty mug for 15PLN. I drank my coffee from it since. I spat loose tea leaves into it. It never felt particularly significant. An ordinary object. Only when I lost it, I realised its true value. I sat comfortably at my desk one evening. Looking at my phone, I reached to take my song-text notebook. Trivial situation. My clumsy fingers were unable to avoid the mug. They allowed it to topple over, to slip from the desktop. Even though I did not see the split-second occurrence, I felt the pressure of unease. My head painted the trajectory of the fall on its own, the shattering, spillage. The loss. For a millisecond I still had hope, that I would be able to catch the mug, that I would be able to avoid what was about to happen. But I knew I was headed for failure. I don't have any superpowers. I only scalded my fingers. I looked at the mug's new shape for a long while, at the shattered pieces. At the spilling liquid. Our adventure came to an end. Irrevocably. I won't be drinking coffee from it anymore, nor spit tea leaves into it. Well. I shouldn't be sad, it was just a regular mug, just like thousands of others. I grew to like it, it kept me company throughout hundreds of warm drinks. I lost it. I hate this feeling the most. In the moment when I am losing something, I stop in my tracks, I hold my breath. It is always a very intense moment. A short one, but one that gives me the tight unpleasant feeling in my stomach. The feeling of loss is always accompanied by hope. Silly and naïve. Making me believe so strongly, that I can make it. That I will still be able to catch the mug mid-flight. When the feeling is entering the body, crawling into me I realise, how important it was to me. Whether it's Nivan or a stupid mug with gold gilt.