#in an alternate universe they should be friends and hang out and be tall together

[strawberryclementine]

Roberto and Grimmer just being enormous pals together. They duck their heads when entering a room or stepping onto the bus, their knees bending really high up when they sit down. People often ask if they're related because how else are these two enormous guys in the same place?

[gardenergulfie]

Emptober Day 4: Ribbon

Rating: G

Word Count: 2539

Relationships: Jimmy | Solidarity/Scott | Smajor1995 | Dangthatsalongname

Characters: Scott | Smajor1995 | Dangthatsalongname, Jimmy | Solidarity

Tags:Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Red String of Fate, Pre-Canon, Post-Canon, Past Lives, Alternate Universe - Empires SMP Setting (Video Blogging RPF), Friends to Lovers, Childhood Friends, Bickering, Flower Husbands, Emptober, Seablings, 

Everything was normal with it until the day he met the other rulers. It was a political meeting of nations, the first time all of them would all be together in years. Rivendell was hosting it and it would be Jimmy’s first time out of the kingdom. Jimmy and Lizzie were representing the Ocean Empire as heirs but they were allowed to meet and greet with whoever they wanted. Lizzie quickly ran off, introducing herself to the Mezalean prince and leaving Jimmy to flounder alone. He gripped the ribbon between his fingers nervously but took a deep breath and approached the first person he could see. That person was a winged elf with blue hair and a very aloof expression.

Emptober Day 4: Ribbon

--

AO3 Link

Fic below the cut

Jimmy was a pretty normal guy. I mean he was the leader of an empire but compared to the other leaders and even his own citizens he was normal, maybe even average. Just a pretty basic dude. But Jimmy had something, a part of him, that was very not normal. It was a ribbon tied around his left wrist. It was green and blue with a design of red flowers that Jimmy had never seen before. The ribbon had one end constantly trailing out of sight. It had been there for as long as he could remember and strangely enough, seemingly no-one else could see it.

When Jimmy was little he tried out some tests with the ribbon. He found out that he couldn’t tangle it, he couldn’t trip people with it, he couldn’t hang things on it, it didn’t interact with water like most fabrics did, it was just intangible to anyone or anything but Jimmy. He’d told his sister Lizzie about it but she didn’t have one and she couldn’t see or feel it. He’d even gone to the local library to do research on it which did make the bookkeeper give him a strange look, he’d never been one for academics before but he just needed to know. He found nothing but some sappy love stories about people with invisible red strings of fate that connected them to their one true love. Jimmy didn’t really believe these stories, besides he had a ribbon not a string.

Once or twice in his life Jimmy had felt a tug on the ribbon. It felt like a person on the other end of it had pulled on it. Was there someone also connected to him? Were those stories about strings of fate true? Jimmy followed the ribbon for a long time, only stopping when he realized that he was at the edge of the kingdom. If there was a person on the other end, they weren’t from his home empire.

For a while that was it. Nothing new could be found out about the ribbon and so Jimmy resigned himself to it just being a mystery forever. On the plus side, he didn’t really mind it that much. It didn’t hurt him or get stuck on anything which was nice and it was a nice texture. Sometimes when he was anxious or just restless he would twist it between his fingers and fidget with it. He got some strange looks, fidgeting with nothing, but it wasn’t that weird so no-one really questioned him.

Everything was normal with it until the day he met the other rulers. It was a political meeting of nations, the first time all of them would all be together in years. Rivendell was hosting it and it would be Jimmy’s first time out of the kingdom. Jimmy and Lizzie were representing the Ocean Empire as heirs but they were allowed to meet and greet with whoever they wanted. Lizzie quickly ran off, introducing herself to the Mezalean prince and leaving Jimmy to flounder alone. He gripped the ribbon between his fingers nervously but took a deep breath and approached the first person he could see. That person was a winged elf with blue hair and a very aloof expression.

“Hello! I’m Jimmy Solidarity of the Ocean Empire!” He said to the elf, his voice coming out louder than he intended from nerves. He winced as the elf turned to him with a mildly peeved expression.

“Scott Smajor, heir of Rivendell.” The elf said coldly. He assessed Jimmy lazily but his eyes stopped on Jimmy’s left hand, the one holding the ribbon. His cold mask dropped and Jimmy could see an expression of shock and mild intrigue before it went back up. “I’ve never spoken to a citizen of the ocean empire. Are you all this small? It's kinda cute” Jimmy bristled a bit at the insult? Flirt? He couldn’t tell but he knew enough to be offended.

“Not all of us can be as tall as elves. I am quite a normal height! And I’m not cute.” Jimmy snapped back. Scott looked briefly surprised at his retort but then smirked.

“Not cute you say? That adorable pout on your face says otherwise.” Scott says, lifting his hand to gesture at Jimmy’s expression. A hand that had a blue green and red flower patterned ribbon tied around it. The same ribbon that existed around Jimmy’s hand. Jimmy’s eyes widened and he looked at his own ribbon. Sure enough, they were connected. So there was a person on the other end of it and Jimmy had found them. But Scott? Really? This ribbon better not be one of those soul things, he does not want to be bonded to that rude elf.

Jimmy realized that he should probably respond to Scott. He’s been standing silently for about a minute now and Scott was surly waiting for him to say something.

“I wasn’t pouting! I was upset at being called cute. Not everyone likes random strangers calling them cute, you know.” Jimmy says back. Scott looks thoughtful.

“I don’t know. If a pretty boy like you walked up to me and called me cute, I don’t think I’d be complaining.” The elf says back. Jimmy sputters as he tries to think of a response. He really wasn’t someone who got flirted with often, even as a joke, and it was very disarming.

“Well I’m not you so I care.” He says back with his face bright red. He knew it wasn’t the best comeback and from Scott’s smug expression he could tell it hadn’t hit the mark he was aiming for.

“Right sure.” Scott says with an eye roll. “This conversation’s being nowhere and I already won it so why don’t we talk about something else. I could take you on a tour? I don’t think you fishfolk get the chance to see elven architecture often.” Jimmy once again bristled at Scott’s mild insult but agreed to the tour. Scott led Jimmy away from the front hall and outside into Rivendell proper. Jimmy wouldn’t admit it but Scott was a pretty good tour guide, he knew a lot about the kingdom’s history and culture and was good at talking about it, even if he still flirted and insulted Jimmy quite often. Scott showed Jimmy the sheep pens, the owl roost, and apiary, all places that Jimmy had only seen glimpses of during the trip here.

In the apiary Jimmy saw something. A red flower, identical to the ones on his ribbon. He called Scott over, asking what kind of flower that was. Scott glanced over and when he saw the red flower Jimmy was talking about he briefly touched the ribbon tied to his own hand before answering.

“Its a poppy. They’re a common flower and grow in most places. You haven’t seen one before?” The elf asked. Jimmy shook his head.

“I don’t think they grow in the swamps. I would have remembered seeing a flower this red before.” Jimmy gently touched a petal of the flower. It was beautiful and it made Jimmy feel…. weirdly bittersweet? It was just a flower. Why did Jimmy feel like crying then? He blinked away the tears that were forming and backed away from the flower. Scott was giving him an odd searching look.

“It's my favorite kind of flower.” Scott said at last. “I always make sure there’s at least one in the apiary at all times.” Jimmy was surprised at this personal info that Scott was just telling him. Scott hadn’t talked much about himself, mostly speaking about the elves and their great kingdom. Him just dropping this strange piece of personal information seems out of pace and it made Jimmy wonder why he did it. The elf was still looking at him, waiting for Jimmy to say something in return.

“It really is lovely.” Jimmy responded. “Does it have any special meanings?” Jimmy had heard of flowers having special meaning attached to them though he hadn’t learned much about them. Lizzie had but not him.

“Sleep, peace, and death are what the poppy represents.” Scott says, unconsciously tugging on the ribbon. Jimmy felt that tug, just more proof that they were connected. Sleep, peace, and death were strange meanings for the flowers on his ribbon. Maybe the type of flower didn’t mean anything but it's a magic ribbon so that was unlikely. Jimmy was hoping that his flowers meant peace or maybe sleep, death was something he’d really not want to be tied with.

Scott had been looking more and more nervous the more Jimmy thought. The elf was trying to hide it but the fluttering of his wings and shuffling of his feet gave him away. Jimmy was about to ask him about the problem when a loud gong rang across the city.

“That's the feast bell. They’re about to start dinner.” Scott says, moving towards the door to the apiary. “We need to go quickly so we’re not late.” Jimmy let the topic of Scott’s anxiety around him drop and the two rushed towards the main hall. They were separated in the crowd when they got there, Jimmy being reunited with Lizzie who asked him where he was and introduced him to her new friend Joel. Jimmy didn’t see Scott for the rest of the night, only briefly catching a glimpse of him when it was time for him to leave.

Jimmy met Scott quite a few times over the course of many years, the two becoming rulers of their own nations, Scott in Rivendell and Jimmy in the newly formed Cod Empire. They maintained a similar relationship as they had when they were young, Scott teasing and flirting with Jimmy and Jimmy getting flustered and firing back with his own bad insults. Neither of them brought up the topic of the ribbon though Jimmy was pretty sure that Scott knew at this point. The many glances at Jimmy’s left wrist was a pretty big clue to that.

Years past, Jimmy and Scott were still leading their empires and occasionally bickering with each other. The demon plagued them for a bit and in that time they became allies in a very strange way, Scott taking Jimmy on a date. The many poppies around the date place was a nice reference to the ribbon and a knowing look from Jimmy let Scott know he knew what was up. It took a couple more suggested dates for Jimmy to realize that the date wasn’t one of Scott’s normal flirts but that Scott was actually interested in him. The two took it slow, going on quite a few more dates before they were ready to speak of the ribbon out-loud.

Jimmy remembered it as a chilly evening, the two of them drinking warm tea inside of Jimmy’s house. Scott had made the excuse of it being too cold back home and that the swamp was just much warmer but Jimmy knew the elf at this point to know that Scott wanted to spend time with him. They had done some baking following a simple recipe that somehow they still managed to mess up and then salvage at the last minute. Now with a mug of tea in hand and slightly burnt cookies on a plate in front of him, Jimmy was feeling brave. He tugged on the ribbon once then twice when Scott didn’t look over from his cup of tea. The second tug caught the elf’s attention and he looked down at the ribbon resting beside them both.

“I think at this point we both know about the existence of this,” Jimmy waved his own end of the ribbon, “and the fact that it connects them. I don’t know about you but we’ve been dating for a bit. We might as well talk about it.” Scott blinked in surprise at the question coming from seemingly nowhere but nodded at set down his drink.

“I was wondering when one of us was going to be brave enough to bring up the soul ribbon.” Scott said. “I’d have thought you would have blurted the question out way before now.” Scott teased with a small smirk. Jimmy let the insult flirt fly over his head, mostly focused on the words soul ribbon.

“Wait, the soul ribbon is like a string of fate? The stuff from those love stories?” Jimmy asked. Scott looked confused at the question.

“Wait, you mean you don’t know about soul ribbons? They’re real and way more than just stories. We’re kind of living proof of that.” Scott said. Jimmy leaned back in his chair a bit more.

“The only information I found about anything similar to the ribbon was stories about red strings of fate that connect people destined to be together. They were just fiction I thought but you’re saying that it’s really real. We’re soulmates?” Jimmy asks.

“Soul ribbons are a bit more complicated than just the idea of fated couples. They’re broken promises from a past life. When two people promise to stay together but something happens where they promise is broken, the universe will step in and give them another chance. Hence, the soul ribbon.” Scott explains. “The pattern of the ribbon normally has some kind of meaning relating to the past life. Soul ribbons can’t really be studied but there have been enough cases that people are now pretty sure of their meaning.”

“So in another life, we made a promise to each other but it got broken? And poppies were important to us?” Jimmy questioned. “Well that explains why I feel so happy and sad at the same time when I see a poppy. Past life emotions, huh.” Scott reached out and took a cookie with one hand and Jimmy's own hand with another.

“I understand if this is a lot to take in.” Scott bit his lip, looking anxious. “Again, the soul ribbon doesn’t mean that we have to be together. It’s just the universe giving us a second chance. So if this is too much for you we don’t have to keep dating-“

“What? Scott no. I don’t want to stop dating. It’s strange, yeah, but I mean I already knew we were connected. This doesn’t have to change anything for us! I’m happy to know how we’re connected, this solves a mystery I’ve always been wondering about. I mean, better lovers in a past life than fated enemies in this one.” Jimmy said passionately, laughing a bit at his own joke at the end. Scott’s face brightened up and he smiled back at Jimmy.

“Was that one of your theories? Fated enemies?” Scott chuckled as he took a bite of his cookie. Jimmy rubbed the back of his neck bashfully with his free hand.

“I mean we were always bickering. It wasn’t too strange of an idea.” Jimmy defended himself.

The two of them continued to talk for quite a few more hours before they eventually fell asleep together, bundled up under a quilt. Their hands were intertwined, the two ends of the ribbons brushing against each other. The universe looked down at these second chance souls and felt pride. They really had found each other again.

[kenmascatears]

“why’d you only call me when you’re high”

description: suna only calls you when he’s high and you give in each time

genre: angst, smut

warnings: mentions of drug usage, uneven power dynamic, prominent manipulatory themes (or maybe it’s just blatant manipulation), dubcon (suna is high, uneven power dynamic), public sex (car sex)

a/n: please let me know if I missed any tags/warnings! and yes, this is based off of “why’d you only call me when you’re high” by the arctic monkeys

word count: 1.6k

part two

your phone rang, disrupting the stillness of the night.

rolling over, your hand patted the bed, looking for the source of the noise. blearily squinting at the screen, the harsh lighting contrasting sharply with the darkness of your room, you hit the answer button.

you didn’t have to check the caller id. you already knew who it was.

this happened every weekend.

each weekend suna would go out and party, get high and then call you for a ride home and each weekend you showed up.

you never knew why you did that, why you helped him. maybe it was your wish to be wanted by him. wanted for something other than a ride.

the two of you had been best friends since childhood, doing everything together, from playtime to vacations.

but in high school, all of that had changed. suna had begun hanging around with some boys from his volleyball team. when that begun, his behavior changed. the caring boy you once knew became cold and calculative (as well as an avid smoker). the two of you began drifting apart, and now there was no communication between the two of you, besides on saturday nights.

those were the thoughts running through your head as you drove through the night to pick up suna. they ran through your head every saturday night. you knew this wasn’t healthy for you, but you still had feelings for suna, still cared for him, even if he just used you as a chauffeur.

as you pulled up to the address he had given you, you stepped out of the car. the chill of the fall air made you shiver, and you cursed yourself for not changing out of your tank top and pajama pants before leaving your house.

suna was always the priority.

leaning against the side of your car, one that had been gifted to you by your parents before you left for university, you pulled out your phone and sent suna a text.

“i’m outside”

you stood there for the next five minutes, waiting for him, alternating between scrolling mindlessly through your messages with him and taking glances at the front door of the house to see if he had exited it.

your messages with him were all one-sided.

for the past two months, the only things sent were from you. a majority of them were “i’m outside” while some were sent the morning after the previous one “how are you feeling?”

none of them were answered.

hearing voices, you glanced up to see suna stumbling out of the door. as he approached you, you could smell the weed seeping off of his clothing, permeating the air around him.

“are you high again?” you asked the tall dark-haired boy, nose wrinkling at the smell of him.

there was no reply. suna merely grunted and walked around the car to the passenger side, opening the door and slipping into the seat.

you followed suit and began the drive back to his apartment.

as you drove, you kept stealing glances at suna. his head was tilted backward, leaning against the head rest, as he drummed his fingers to the song playing quietly on the radio.

“how was it?” you asked, wanting him to speak, to acknowledge you as more than a ride.

“hmm?”

“how was the party?”

“you should come sometimes you know, they’re fun. you could stand to loosen up a bit. tonight the craziest thing happened…”

as suna rambled you relished in the sound of his voice, insult ignored. he was only chatty when high, and this was the only time you got to make conversation with him. the rest of the time he would brush you off with one-worded answers and empty promises of “i’ll text you later.” you wanted to know everything about the brown haired boys life, wanted it to go back to how it was before, when the two of you were children.

for the duration of the ride, suna spoke of the party. you were always intrigued by the scene, and your friends always begged you to accompany them, but if you went, who would come to collect suna?

the ride is always too short, you thought as you pulled up in front of suna’s apartment complex, the area infront of the tall building dimly lit by some streetlights.

as suna began unbuckling his seatbelt you turned to him, and before your brain could censor your mouth, you spoke.

“rintarou, why do you only ever call me when you’re high?”

time froze.

suna turned to you, fox-like eyes glinting, hand reaching up to cup your chin.

your breath hitched. suna had never willingly initiated contact with you within the past few years, besides the occasional event of you helping him get to his front door when he was blacked out.

“because ______, i know you’ll always come to get me. i know you’d do anything for me.”

leaning forward, hand still gripping your chin, he pressed a soft kiss against your lips.

your body was conflicted, telling you two different things. part of you wanted this, wanted suna no matter how much he used you, in the hopes that one day he would realize how much you meant. the other part of you screamed at you to leave, that this wasn’t good for you, that he was taking advantage of your willingness to do whatever for him.

you ignored the second thought.

leaning forward, you kissed back with vigor, hand clutching at his shirt, making suna chuckle against your lips. the hand not cupping your face reached over the center console and down to your pants, snaking underneath the waistband to circle your clit.

your hips bucked at the touch, but you were still hesitant. not of your well-being but of suna’s.

lips parting from his, you spoke, “suna are you sure? I mean, you’re high.”

suna stared at you quizzically, head cocked to the side. “i’m fine _____, this wouldn’t be the first time i’ve fucked while high.”

as his mouth landed back on yours, your heart panged.

you didn’t know why you expected suna to have not slept with other girls. after all, what he did in his spare time was none of your business. nevertheless, it still hurt.

as suna’s mouth began tracing a path down your neck, nipping and sucking marks into your skin, fingers playing at your clit with expertise, you felt yourself reaching your peak. all you could do was cling to his slender frame, and breathe in the familiar smell of suna: cologne and weed as you moaned and shuddered your way through your high.

leaning back into your seat you tried to catch your breath, the feeling of your underwear sticking to your cunt alarmingly prevalent.

meanwhile, suna was busy sliding his pants and boxers down, to pull out his cock.

“come here” he said gruffly, “you didn’t think i was gonna get you off and leave myself with blue balls?”

turning to face him, eyes tracing down his body, you gasped. suna’s cock was beautiful. the tip was leaking precum, and in the soft glow of the street light you could see the veins along the length of his shaft.

“well? are you just gonna gawk at it or are you gonna ride it?”

snapping out of your haze, you slid off your pants and clambered over the console, gingerly seating yourself on his lap.

you had had hookups before, but most were one night stands that meant nothing to you. suna meant the world to you.

you didn’t want to disappoint him. you wanted him to view you how he viewed you, and you wanted this to be the first step in doing so. if the car rides didn’t open his eyes, maybe the sex would.

sliding your panties to the side, you sank down on his cock, cunt fluttering with each inch you took. he was so big, nearly hitting your cervix, and stretching you full.

one you bottomed out, you began to ride him. setting a pace quickly, gasping and moaning all the while.

“‘s so big” you cried out, lost in the sensation of his cock dragging so deliciously against your walls.

suna’s head was tilted back, head hazy with a combination of weed and pleasure. if he had known how complacent you were willing to be, how eager you were to fuck him, how good your pussy was, he would have had sex with you sooner.

can’t change the past, he thought to himself. for now, I just have to get myself off and leave. i just hope she doesn’t think this is more than what it actually is. a hookup.

getting off wasn’t a hard goal at all, with how tightly your cunt was gripping him, juices leaking all over his cock and balls.

your sweet moans were penetrating the air, and with each cry of “rin!” and the weed enhancing the sensations you were delivering, it wasn’t long before suna was close to cumming.

pulling you flush against his body, he began thrusting into you, intent on finishing.

“rin it feels so good.” you slurred out, drunk on how his cock was thrusting so deeply into you.

your second orgasm hit you unexpectedly, leaving you creaming and clenching all over him, shivers running up and down your body.

your cock clamping down on suna sent him over the edge, and he came with a groan, pumping your insides full of cum.

suna didn’t know what it was but he had come harder than he ever had before. maybe it was the weed, maybe it was you, but he wasn’t complaining.

as you raised yourself off of him and returned to your seat, suna began to pull his pants up. once he was redressed, you looked over at him.

the glow of the streetlight distorted his features, made them softer, made them look similar to how they were when he was a kid, from when everything was good between the two of you.

suna glanced over at you, flashing you a slow smile.

“thanks for that ______, i really needed it” he said, hand on the far handle . “but, you know that was a one time thing right?”

opening the door he stepped out, leaving you with no time to reply.

as you watched suna walk away your heart plummeted.

you had thought that this would make him want you the way you wanted him. all this time you had been filled with hope that he would realize how much you meant to him.

and as you redressed and drove away, heart shattered even more than it already was, you knew deep down that while that suna doesn’t want you, you would always pick up his calls.

part two

[llogllady99]

Au revoir

CHARACTERS |  Levi, Erwin, Hange, Mike, Nanaba, Petra, Kuchel

RELATIONSHIPS | Erwin x Levi, Mike x Nanaba, Petra x Hange

GENRE | Reincarnation, Smut, Romance

IV | Alternate Universe- Reincarnation. Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Romance, Smut, Angst and fluff and smut, French Levi, Student Levi, Writer Erwin, Light angst, Alternate Universe - Coffee shops.

Summary | “Puis-je vous aider ?” That voice, the familiar voice. It rang through his head and brought back memories of the man he had tried to find for so long. He lifted his gaze and was met with the sight of no one other than Levi freaking Ackerman, cleaning a cup, completely oblivious to him.“

Levi.” 

Erwin and Levi meet again in the modern world.Series

-

Levi will never admit to anyone that he thoroughly enjoyed reading romance novels. Yes, they were a bit too cheesy for his liking and maybe some of the passage were kind of forced, but the way they made his stomach drop and heart flutter was enough to keep him buying one novel after another. His first novel of such kind was: Madame Bovary, a book which he stole when his mother was away at work. At the green age of 12 Levi hid in the house’s library, right behind the couch and began absorbing the words hungrily, gaping and gasping in shock whenever Emma’s affair with Rodolphe or Leon would appear in the book. He didn’t necessarily enjoy the story as it was quite bland compared to the romcoms he and his mother would watch on Sundays, but was instead mesmerised by the rose scented perfume that lingered among the pages, a phenomenon which he didn’t encounter in other books because, as his mother told him later, Madame Bovary had been a vessel for Kuchel to deliver her love letters to the post office back when she was younger.

Coincidently, Levi was now holding the same book, enjoying it with a little more fervour and fascination as he himself, in his twenty-one years of life, had experienced some form or pretence of love at some point with maybe two or three of his lovers. Wetting his finger he turned the page and finished what was left of the chapter he was currently reading. He let the book down and stared out the window of the train he was embarked on in other to return to his childhood home: Marseille, France.

Levi remembered his past life. This life had treated him extremely kindly, almost as if the universe was apologising for the hell it put him through the last one. He was born and raised in the countryside, his childhood being characterised by stealing from vineyards, scraped knees, and dirty faces, a fun and ideal childhood. His mother, although having gone through a divorce when he was small, was now well and alive, indulging herself with a quality lifestyle and relaxing hobbies; his home forever full of jamon, quality wine, fresh sea food, and oil paintings in easels  adjourning his hilltop village house’s balcony crowded with red boungainvillea. He had met Hange and Petra in the same village at the sea on a hot summer’s day, introducing himself brusquely, startling the girls, who lacked even an inch of recognition for him in their eyes. Levi quickly realised that not everyone remembered their past life and as such he should keep quiet. Nonetheless, the three quickly became inseparable, their bond not destroyed but only slightly deterred when him and Hange left for university, leaving Petra back home alone. Levi had left to study architecture at the university of Sorbonne and Hange to England to study Medicine at the Imperial College of London, surprising both herself and her friends when she had only applied at the university on a whim not even half expecting to get accepted, but she was the smartest person he knew and if anyone deserved it then it would undoubtedly be her.

Apart from them, Levi had not encountered anyone else from his past life, and by anyone else he only meant Erwin, his blonde, tall, and handsome commander. It was a disappointment that after so much time he still hadn’t managed to meet him, one which left him with an enormous hole in his stomach that would only get bigger every time he allowed himself to think about his past lover. He eventually lost hope and stopped looking for him all together. He had not told Hange and Petra about him however, instead choosing to keep his existence and unsuccessful search all to himself. After all, it is simply expression that gives reality to things. Never mind the fact that he would sound batshit crazy, but if he would have opened his mouth and openly voice the fact that he had not found him yet, then there would have been chances of not meeting him at all. He was still clinging to a thin thread of hope that Erwin will keep his promise of them reuniting again eventually.

At once, the train pulled in Marseille’s train station with a deafening horn, its locomotive letting out clouds of white vapour that swirled fast up in the azure sky, and announced its passengers that they have reached their destination. Levi stepped on the platform, and dragging his black suitcase behind him, he inhaled the fresh country air as a warm feeling came over him. He had arrived home.

-

On the other side of the globe, free lance writer Erwin Smith was packing his suitcase hurriedly, throwing clothes chaotically in his suitcase. He was terribly late for his flight.

Summer always turned unbearably hot in Miami, the dry heat and the omnipresent smell of sweat managing to deeply irritate Erwin. That had been his initial plan for the summer: change shirt after shirt as he walked the road from his apartment, a small 2 bedroom space that lacked air conditioners and that would turn into a literal oven during the hotter months of the year, and his publisher. Therefore, when Mike and Nanaba invited him to celebrate together their anniversary in Marseille, France, he didn’t hesitate to agree, he actually did with so much desperation that he worried even himself. He had quickly called his publisher making up some shitty excuse to extend his deadline, spattering something about how the sweet mediterranean breeze will to wonders to his inspiration. He lied, and quite horribly so, he had finished the chapter he was due but hadn’t edited it yet, a chore which he assigned himself for when he would return. Quickly closing his suitcase and praying that he didn’t leave everything behind, he ran out the apartment and waved his arm frantically in the direction of a cab that happened to be passing by.

Erwin also happened remembered his past life, something he cursed and treasured at the same time. He treasured the memory of Levi but cursed whenever he would wake up in the middle of the night covered in sweat screaming as he felt the phantom pain from when he lost him arm, something that had somehow followed him into this life also. Just like Levi, Erwin also learned that not everyone remembered their past life. His first such experience had been when he woke up screaming when he was small due to a very unpleasant memory, one filled with titans, blood and the death of his comrades. His father had come to comfort him but dismissed everything as just a nightmare that sprouted from Erwin’s wild imagination. At the age of 16 he started writing everything he remembered before being reincarnated and then at the age of 24 after graduating from university he published a book retelling his story. Society, just like his father, quickly dismissed it under the false and shallow pretension of fiction. Erwin didn’t mind, and at an interview when he was asked what had inspired him to write such a masterpiece, he simple answered: “It’s as if I’ve lived this life before”. In retrospect, a bold statement, but one that had triggered incredulous looks and nervous laughs. It didn’t matter, as long as he was the one that knew the truth.

At the airport, he was met with a very angry Nanaba, that proceeded to punch him in the shoulder as soon as she spotted him coming through the automatic sliding doors, dressed with cargo short pants, white t-shirt and one of those hawaiian shirts, espadrilles not missing from completing his outfit. He apologised and shook Mike’s hand, that came up from Nanaba, trying to calm his petite lover from ending Erwin’s life then and there. His friends, like everyone else he had become acquainted with in this life, did not remember their past lives. They had met in college when he tried to hit on Nanaba and earned himself a punch from Mike, who apologised shortly after and bought him a drink.

“You are well aware we’re going to France, right?” Mike eyed his outfit, and scrunched his nose in something close but not quite to disgust.

“The eccentric writer facade ain’t holding up anymore, you seriously need to change outfits.” Nanaba also joined in.

“I was up writing, thence the messy outfit. I do actually have fancy clothes packed.” Erwin retorted, trying to save himself from their scrutinising gazes.

“Good, because I want to enjoy some of those pretentious wines they’re so famous from at one of those expensive terraces that overlook the sea without wanting to crawl under the table from being seen with a hobo like you. Now come on, plane’s not waiting for anyone.” Nanaba flipped him off, her way of reprimanding him.

“Au revoir America, bien venue France!” Erwin exclaimed, mixing french with english.

“How much did it take to learn those?” Mike asked, amused.

“Only 3 thorough Duolingo lessons, of course.”

-

Levi pushed the door of the little vintage cafe open and was immediately met with the sight of Hange engaging in quite a heated make-out session with Petra. His arrival at home yesterday was met with nothing more than pure joy, as he was bombarded by his mother’s kisses as soon as he walked into the house. They spent a quiet evening on the balcony, enjoying some tea and simply talking the evening away. It felt good to return, he missed the salted air, the chilly breeze, the pink flowers and green bushes, and the exquisite view of the mediterranean sea. Later, when the mosquitoes had started to annoy them, Levi and Kuchel retired back inside the living room, where he was urged by her to play her favourite piece on the piano that had dust on it from never being used anymore. Upon the arrival of the next day, Levi headed to Petra’s cafe, a small vintage shop, which she had opened up quite recently after successfully raising the funds necessary. It was right in the middle of the hill, its glass windows giving a clear view of the stony road and orange coloured walls and roads of the city.

“You guys should get a room, it’s gross.” He said, not one bit of disgust lacing his words. He truly was happy to see his friends again.

“Levi!!!!!” Hange squealed and broke away from Petra, practically jumping over the counter before she threw herself in his arms, hugging him tightly. Petra’s behaviour was hardly any different, surging on the other two and tumbling all three of them down to the floor. They stayed like that for a few minutes until the first customer of the day arrived with an awkward cough to get their attention. For the rest of the day, they chatted quietly, each with a cup of special Petra coffee in their hands, reminiscing about old childhood memories and the things they did while they were apart. Hange had successfully landed an internship at a renowned research company back in London and Petra bought her first place, somewhere they would surely go after she closed the cafe.

“So how’s it going for you Levi? You seeing anyone?” Hange interrupted a peaceful silence then took another sip of her coffee, eyeing him curiously.

“Well, no not really. I guess I’m still waiting for the right person.” Levi replied, his mind drifting off involuntarily to Erwin.

“That’s a pity, tell him Petra!”

“I guess so.” The strawberry blonde sighed, scrubbing the counter. She looked troubled, stressed if Levi knew any better.

“Everything all right?” He asked, hoping she would tell him what was bothering her.

“Theoretically yes, the cafe’s been growing in popularity and the number of costumers has increased exponentially and it has become harder and harder for me to keep up. It’s afternoon and I’m already exhausted.”

“Hire someone to help you.” He offered.

“I would have, I even put up a sign a while ago asking for help, but it’s summer and you know how it is. Everyone would rather bathe than work.” Petra leaned on the counter, huffing exhausted.

“You know, Hange and I could help you if you’d like, until the summer’s end and till you find someone.” Levi scooted over closer to Petra and placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Sure! There is nothing we’d rather do, Pet.” Hange joined in, assuring her girlfriend.

“You guys, thank you.” Petra smiled brightly, exhaling in relief.

-

Their first day in Marseille had been spent at the beach until they were all fried. Well, Erwin had managed to get a nice tan, save for the red slight burns on his shoulders, those didn’t count. Nanaba had made sure to use sunscreen, but with her pale skin tone, she had turned into a lobster by mid afternoon. Deciding that it was enough sun for today, the three settled on exploring the city, in particular the ports, where smell of fresh caught fish would imbue their noses, the hill village, the sights recommended on the internet, like the colourful Noailles Market, Musée des Civilisatons de l’Europe et de la Méditerranée, and following a maniacal Nanaba that sprinted through every shop in La Panier.

As six o’clock came by, hunger made its presence known in their stomachs, they started searching for a restaurant. With an immense amount of luck and without too much time spent looking, the three had found themselves in Restaurant Peron, escorted to a four persons table right next to the clear glass that provided them with an extraordinary view of the sea, admiring the calm relentless waves and snow white moon that reflected itself on the clear water. When the waiter came, Erwin ordered, putting on his best french accent.

“Un Ricard, s’il vous plait.” He managed to make a fool out of himself, sounding exactly like an ignorant American. Un Ricard was an alcoholic beverage made with aniseed and spice that turns an enticing shade of yellow once water is added, a local must try. Nanaba ordered herself an Aperol sprits and Mike a whiskey on the rocks. The waiter bowed and went to get their drinks. While they waited the three engaged in casual conversation, their voices accompanied by the low murmur of the sea and other people’s conversation.

“I believe this has been quite a successful weekend, don’t you think, honey?” Nanaba asked Mike, leaning her face on her hands.

“Indeed. Happy 5th Anniversary, Nanaba!” Mike kissed her cheek tenderly. Erwin watched the display with nothing more than pure envy. It wasn’t fair that they had found each other despite not knowing their past life, it was utterly infuriating and it made Erwin seethe with anger and frustration, both emotions directed more at himself because he had not found him yet, Levi, his lover, his everything.

“Excuse me, monsieur. I brought the drinks.” The waiter interrupted them, making Erwin forever grateful as he was not sure how much more he could bare. He bowed and retrated, leaving them to enjoy their drinks. The Ricard Pastis Erwin had ordered had a creamy texture and yellow colour, bringing the glass to his lips, he tasted it, immediately scrunching up his nose from how strong it was. It wasn’t that he wasn’t used to it, god knows his college years hard served for so much, so many nights spent drowning vodka and absinth bottles, he just hadn’t expected it to be so strong, he thought it would be like Nanaba’s Aperol, slightly bitter and sweet. Mike was sipping slowly on his whiskey and asked:

“Any plans for tomorrow?”

“How about we stick to just visiting the town, my skin can’t take any more sun.” Nanaba proposed, hinting to her burnt shoulders that were covered with a very nice white blouse. Mike and Erwin both agreed.

-

Levi fumbled with the speakers’ wire trying to get them to connect with his phone. It was his first shift today together with Petra, Hange will come later tonight to take his place, something completely unnecessary as he would stay anyway. It was his turn to choose the playlist and he resorted to a simple jazz playlist that would blend in nicely in the background acting as white noise. Once that was settled, he wrapped around himself the black apron with the shop’s logo on it and went up to the counter, patiently waiting for the first costumer.

-

Their second day in Marseille was spent indulging in even more sightseeing. Nanaba woke them up at the crack of dawn, excited and completely oblivious to Mike’s and Erwin’s sower moods, dragging them with her to their first destination: Basilique Notre-Dame de la Garde. Located in a breathtaking hilltop, this spectacular church is the most important landmark in Marseilles. The site was used in ancient times as an observation point, and during the Middle Ages, was the location of a pilgrimage chapel. Erwin enjoyed the renaissance architecture, admiring the big hemispherical dome with a big golden cross on top of it, the golden statuette of what he reckoned was Virgin Mary, the symmetrical high arches, and smaller, little angel statues. It was truly a sight to behold. Their next destination was also a historical landmark: Abbaye Saint-Victor, a house of worship once belonged to an abbey founded in the 5th century. The abbey's basilica is one of the oldest buildings in Marseilles that is still intact, with foundations dating back to Early Christian and Carolingian times. With its crenellated walls and towers, the foreboding exterior has the feel of a medieval fortress. Inside, the basilica reveals a simple and somber design, which gives it a special aura. The crypt houses sarcophagi of the 4th and 5th centuries, as well as the 11th-century tombstone of Abbot Isarnus. It fascinated Erwin immensely, so much so that he filled his gallery with the amount of selfies and normal pictures he took.

He lied when he said he would find his inspiration here, but he was not so sure that it was true. The city’s architecture and overall way of being, from the local’s lifestyle, to its history and vibe, Erwin was sure to use all of this while working on his new book. Wether he would add a spin off in the book, or make references and parallels to everything he saw here.

It was now mid-afternoon and Erwin was exhausted, the sun constantly warming his head had not done a great job of comforting him in the slightest. They were now in Le Panier again, Nanaba having decided that she did not see all of it the day before and that it was absolutely mandatory they go again. Not wanting to be a burden, although he would have much rather gone to his room, Erwin agreed and set on following closely the two before him who were very much engrossed in their own little world. The old town, like any other part of Marseille they had visited, was also magnificent, with its romanesque architecture, houses that were colourful and joined together, and paved streets. It also housed a lot of shade, making him able to cool down and gather up whatever strength he had left.

The thirst he had tried to ignore for the better part of the day had become unbearable, his throat dry like a desert. As such, Erwin made it his mission to find some place from where he could purchase a water bottle. They passed by jewellery stores and artisan themed shops, displaying their handmade products, like dresses with weird designs from cottons, crystals, wooden scultpures, etc. Finally, in a corner, they had found a small cafe: Haricots vapeur de Petra. Quite a long name for a cafe but who was he to judge. He asked Nanaba and Mike if they wanted to join him but they quickly refused, instead choosing to go ahead. Erwin announced them that they will be seeing each other at the hotel before dinner. That way he could spare a few hours relaxing at the small tables placed outside the cafe, enjoying whatever drinks they were serving. He pushed the front door open and was immediately assaulted by the scent of fresh brewed coffee. The cafe was very nice, inside was quite chilly as there was the air conditioner blowing. Its walls were made of brick, from them hanging several plants, portraits, and drawings of people having coffee and the like. It had small circular tables with purple plush chairs that contrasted perfect to the black counter that housed pastries of all kinds: croissants (of course), pains au chocolate, cinnamon rolls, and macarons of all kinds of colours. It was just like an ordinary American cafe.

“Puis-je vous aider ?” That voice, the familiar voice. It rang through his head and brought back memories of the man he had tried to find for so long. He lifted his gaze and was met with the sight of no one other than Levi freaking Ackerman, cleaning a cup, completely oblivious to him.

“Levi."

-

“Levi.”

That voice. It couldn’t be could it? Levi refused to look up, he was imagining things, it was because of the song, the song he played the man a life time ago. We’ll meet again was playing through the cafe’s speakers, it was only natural he would be thinking back to when he visited Erwin’s grave one last time. With his hands now shaking he continued to clean the glass even more frantically, wiping away inexistent water, droplets he imagined were still there.

“Levi, is that you?” Once would be considered a coincidence, but twice? Finally, the raven haired boy looked up, only to have his breath stuck in his throat. Right in front of him was Erwin freaking Smith, the man he loves even to this day, the time spent together and the promises still so fresh in his mind. Erwin had kept his promise, he found Levi.

“Erwin.” Levi croaked, overwhelmed by emotions. He ran around the counter, stopping for a moment in front of his lover to look at him again. Erwin was exactly the same, except for an almost unnoticeable tan, his hair was now sitting comfortably on his forehead, instead of being styled back with gel. Levi jumped into his arms, wrapping his legs around the other's waist so tight, afraid to let go as he might disappear, proving only to be a figment of his imagination. He buried his face into Erwin's neck, inhaling the scent of cologne, sweat, and sunscreen. His lover snaked his hands around his waist and held him tightly, in the same desperate manner. Pulling away, Levi looked into his eyes again, relieved to see the same warm sapphire blue orbs staring right back at him. They were whole again, together again. Unable to hide his excitement anymore, the raven brought their lips together in a kiss, one in which they poured all of their emotions, the longing, love, and relief they had for one another were all present.

“Tu m’as trouvé!” Levi pulled back, out of breath.

“English please.” Erwin chuckled, running a hand through his hair, tucking a loose strand of hair behind his year before putting him down. Levi looked at him in confusion. If Erwin didn’t know french then that meant…

“We should perhaps talk. Wait here for a moment please.” He told him, pulling his hand away from where it was intertwined with the other’s. Taking a step back, he began untying his apron, then turned on his feet to head to the back where Petra was, baking pastries probably.

“Petra, can you cover for me? Something came up. Hange should be here soon, I hope you don’t mind.” At the sound of his voice, Petra turned around just as she was leaning down to grab the tray with freshly baked pastries from the oven. She searched his face, noticing the look of bewilderment, and made to grab his arm in comfort. Levi pulled away.

“I’ll tell you later, but please let me go!” Levi all but begged, making Petra shake her head with wide eyes as she still didn’t understand what was going on.

“Call me if anything happens.” She demanded. Levi thanked her then bolted out back to the front of the cafe where Erwin was waiting awkwardly in the door, never actually having left the spot. As soon as the blonde spotted him, he offered the other the usual warm smile.

“Why don’t you speak french, Erwin.” Levi asked him and gestured for the other to follow him out the cafe. Once outside they started walking on the direction of Levi’s house, unbeknownst yet to Erwin.

“I’m actually a tourist.” Erwin murmured, understanding finally the graveness of their situation.

“Where are you from then?” Levi croaked, his disappointment taking the best of him.

“USA, came here on vacation with some friends.”

“Américain.” Levi spat, his frustration finally showing. “How are we going to make it work Erwin?”

“I don’t know Levi, I believe that’s a problem for another time. I’m here for another week, let’s enjoy ourselves shall we?” Erwin took his hand and kissed it in an assuring manner, smiling again.

“Okay.”

And enjoy themselves they did. Making sure that Kuchel was out, Levi brought Erwin to his house, taking him through every room while he talked about his childhood, his vocabulary limited because his english wasn’t very good. Fortunately, Erwin was patient and didn’t push him, instead helped him by filling in the gaps with google translate or by using his own words when he understood the direction the story was headed in. At some point, they stumbled upon the piano and the blonde urged him to play it, Levi complying not only by second nature, thinking involuntarily to their time on their battlefield, but also by desire, pouring his heart and soul into each and every key he pressed, eliciting sounds that would later formed the master piece named Canon in D major. Erwin listened intently, absorbing every sound Levi produced, his gaze focused solely and completely on him. His lover playing the piano was one of the most beautiful things he had ever seen. The onyx black hair hung loosely in the air as Levi played, his brows furrowing in concentration, and shoulders tensing when he lifted each hand over the keyboard.

As the song came to an end, unable to hold himself back anymore, Erwin scooped Levi up in his arms and brought him to the couch, the other straddling his waist. It was all too much, the smell of Levi, the feel of Levi, the smooth alabaster skin, silky hair, minty breath, and citrus smelling musk. Levi, Levi, Levi. Erwin brought their lips together in a heated kiss, introducing his tongue shortly after, probing the entrance then entering fully. For a while, that was all they did. They kissed like teenagers, running their hands through each other’s bodies, remapping and rediscovering them. Slowly, Levi became more demanding and started to undo Erwin’s shirt, pulling it down his shoulders and caressed his hand over his chest, playing with the curly strands of blond hair that lined it, although scarce. He then kissed his neck and clavicle. All the while, Erwin had been undressing Levi, his fingers now at his entrance, working slowly but steadily their way in. In his arms, the raven writhed, low moans filling the room.

Done with the stretching, Erwin positioned himself at the other’s entrance, entering him slowly as to not hurt him. Once he was fully seated, he waited for Levi’s signal to move, a slow nod in the pit of his neck shortly after. Their rhythm was slow at first, an occasion to feel each other out, but as their moans got louder in volume, the pace, inevitably increased, turning the love making session into something more rushed and more carnal. They had all week ahead of them, they had plenty of time for slow and passionate love later. After a few more minutes each of them reached their climax, Levi first by tensing all of the sudden, his mouth open in a silent scream, then Erwin shortly after with a low groan. The smaller of the two slumped his forehead against the other’s chest and tried to recover, his panting waning.

“I love you.” Erwin brought his lover’s head up and looked him straight in the eye. Levi replied with a lop-sided me too before retaking his position in the crook of his neck, where he shortly passed out, the physical and emotional effort from the day finally taking their toll on his petite frame.

For the rest of the week, Levi showed Erwin the rest of Marseille, taking him sailing with Petra and Hange, snorkelling in the turquoise water, dining in other less famous restaurants that harboured a magnificent view nonetheless, and hiking. Levi also got to meet Nanaba and Mike, a meeting that was awkward at first but then turned casual as the chemistry they had in their past life never had quite gone away. It was now their last day, and they both chose to organise a brunch on a boat Erwin offered to rent. It had started out great, the interactions between the rest of the group going smoothly, but as night inched closer, Levi grew significantly more and more upset. The reason, revealed to him that night when they were alone, tucked in bed together, was none other than Erwin’s departure. It was time to say goodbye, their short week of heaven brought to an end by force of circumstance, a tragic end to an equally beautiful story. A soulmate who was not meant to be, at least not in this lifetime. They could try a long distance relationship, but that was inconvenient for both of them, they would soon fall apart, each having to take care of their lives. Levi had to work towards a degree and Erwin towards finishing a new book.

“Don’t go.” Levi suddenly croaked, turning towards him and taking his hands, kissing each of their knuckles. “I don’t want you leaving me again.”

Erwin turned his head away in thought. He was a writer, he could basically work from anywhere. In Paris he was sure to find a good publisher, working while also living with Levi in his apartment. If he put in a little effort he might manage it. But what about Nanaba and Mike? Would they understand? Would they still maintain their bond? Is he willing to give everything up for Levi? Erwin furrowed his brows, concentrating and thinking even more. Of course, he would go to the end of the earth for Levi, would rip his heart out of his chest and give it to him. Therefore, he voiced the only obvious answer for his lover’s request:

“I’ll stay.”

-

At the airport the next day Erwin hugged Levi and kissed him on the cheek, bidding his goodbye to his lover. After accepting to stay, they both decided that it would be best for Erwin to return to the states to get his affairs into order and when he would be finished he would return back to France and start his new life with Levi. So, with a waving hand, Erwin fell into step with Nanaba and Mike, who were waiting in line to board the plane. Levi smiled his way and said:

“Au revoir, Erwin Smith.”

[starshipsofstarlord]

‘Tis The Damn Season | Hamish Duke

Warnings; includes angst, implications of smut (not too detailed), breakup, heart ache, sacrifice, pain, and angst again

Based of ‘tis the damn season by Taylor Swift

If I wanted to know who you were hanging with 

Whilst I was gone, I would’ve asked you

Belgrave, home. For a while, you had thought that Hamish had served as that shelter, but the brick road broke, splitting the pair of you apart. It was as though the pair of you were ice, thawing over the time that the independent plan had been brewing.

This place, it was to be missed. It was a great step of a risk that you were to be taking, and so was the weighing of your heart. It felt as though it would be difficult to carry, it would remain with you, surely even after you crossed and exited the borders of the town.

Leaving overall, let alone him was to be exceedingly difficult, any attachment had to be released, like a bird from a cage. But birds in cages had routines, they’d be fed, and get affection, but this one wouldn’t. He’d just be abandoned, left to fend for himself.

The man that had been the only dream that had rendered your brain at night placed the guitar into the back of your car. He knew that it, what you had, was ending.

This was the end, and alternately not the one that Hamish had been expecting. If you were leaving university behind you, in the reflection of your rear view mirror, he would be left standing, alone and broken hearted.

It’s the kind of cold, fogs up the windshield glass

But I felt it when I passed you

“Goodbye Hamish.” It felt like a cruel lyric that would be used in a song, a line you’d harmonise on stage.

Getting into the drivers seat, you allowed yourself a first and last glance through the chilled glass, blinking away any tears that threatened to spill.

He was a good man, there were great things ahead of Hamish Duke. But none of that included you, this was his journey now, you had already made the choice of yours.

And this was the price of it, the freezing of your heart; the truest and purest love that you had ever felt. No matter, you had already paid it, and caused pain for both Hamish and yourself.

There’s an ache in you, put there by the ache in me

But if it’s all the same to you

It’s the same to me

Turning the ignition on, you proceeded to drive past everything that you had ever known, all that you had love for.

The smallest distance seared a wrenching ache within your chest. It felt like a punishment for putting yourself first for once, it made you concerned, surely it shouldn’t have.

The car’s slow pace had Hamish biting his lip, containing any of his avid disagreements to this. He understood your priority, respected it even, but none of that made watching you leave any easier.

If anything, it gave him an urge to turn and head to a bar or something of the sort. But he remained, his heart sinking lower as you got further from his line of sight.

It shouldn’t have heart him as much as it did. It was common knowledge that first loves weren’t eternal. Time would only help him accept that cruel fact, or so he thought.

So we could call it even

You could call me “babe” for the weekend

Hamish’s body was under bliss, he had found his solace once more. He fit perfectly upon your nude form, it felt like his soul was rebuilding itself.

But he had to remember that you were only here for the weekend, you’d soon be gone again. And he would fall apart all over, just like the first time.

“Babe.” The blonde moaned, his hands intertwining with yours, he had missed more than just pleasure from your entanglements. He had beyond missed the entirety of your being.

The name that you were keen to lap from the tip of his theoretical tongue was a misplaced comfort. It shouldn’t however have the effect of such comfort, not when the pair of you were claiming to have been trying your hardest to move past what you had once been.

It was an old and tiring routine, that you were prone to returning to. The sinful actions were bad for each of your mental health, but it felt right to argue against it.

 The wisest decision would be to forget Hamish, and every notion he inclined you to feel, but it was too difficult, especially when he had you seeing orgasmic stars.

‘Tis the damn season, write this down

I’m staying at my parents’ house

“Aren’t you seeing any old friends from university this Christmas?” The question was poised by your mother, she was far too concerned by the fact that since your arrival you had hardly left the house.

It was even blurred by snow outside, not too much to the point where you’d have to be shovelling it from the porch, but it was enough. It was beautiful, perfect for this time in the season.

In fact, you loved the snow. But the memories that bombarded your mind from the wonderful weather had your mind rolling back to Hamish, specifically how blue his eyes appeared amongst the frosted surroundings.

The thought had you sniffling, holding in a post breakup breakdown from your mother’s eyes. She thought you were sick, demanding that you get something for ‘that runny nose of yours, it could be contagious’.

And the road looks real good now

And it always leads to you and my hometown

The exact second that you entered your car, your hands sternly hit the steering world. Were you not allowed to follow your career through the workings of the world without punishment?

Because it sure felt that way, as though you were being a rebel in a war, however the battlefield was that of your heart. It was tearing slowly, and had been over the entirety of your hopeful escapade.

It cried regularly to be united back with Hamish, to its rightful home. It was suffering from separation anxiety from him, clouding the gaps in your brain and making them think about the tall, handsome man alone.

And the road taken looks real good now

And it always leads to you and my hometown

Every time that you were in your car, it felt like you were leaving home all over again, and Hamish would be standing by, with his upset aura, trying his hardest to keep himself together.

It was the worst feeling, knowing that exiting town was essentially the same as stabbing him in the heart. There was no feeling worse than knowing that you had hurt Hamish, you still felt more than something for him.

Whenever you’d come by of a weekend, which was every couple of months, occasionally each few, you’d take the pill of seeing him. But not too long ago, you’d realised how cruel the self invitation really was.

He had been growing used to life without you, and then you’d reappear, lounging in his bed, only to rip away from him and cause a terrible ache in his heart when you’d return to your performing duties. It was unfair, so you refused this month to allow him to know that you were back, otherwise the painful pattern would only continue, and there’d never be an end to it.

I parked my car between the Methodist

And the school used to be ours

Belgrave university was right beside the pharmacy, it only made you feel actually sick. The memories from the school were returning, there were so many of them, it was as though they were trying to anchor you in the snow as you stepped out of your car.

Almost all of them included Hamish, he was the main attraction of the university anyways. But perhaps you had stood there reminiscing longer than you should have, because it seemed that you had drawn some unwanted attention.

Hamish. He was walking from the entrance, a sombre expression had been held upon his face until he saw you. And then his face was rivalled with hope and confusion, you hadn’t informed him that you were back yet.

He’d already expected you to be returning for the holidays, mostly for your family, however, you hadn’t told him, and from the wideness of your eyes, the realisation kicked into his instinct. You had had no intention to.

But he continued to walk towards you anyways, trying his best not to smile and coo at the adorableness of your red nose.

The holidays linger like bad perfume

You can run, but only so far

The thought of making a leg for it, sprinting as far away as possible, or getting back into your car and steering away certainly crossed your mind.

This interaction was certainly not a miracle of the season, it felt like a curse, ascending from hell itself. You hadn’t wanted to see him, but the universe had interfered and made a collaboration.

I escaped it too, remember how you watched me leave

But if it’s okay with you, it’s okay with me

However every time you came and left, this building confrontation had been avoided, with you packing your suitcase for the umpteenth time, zipping each of your mouths shut and hearing nothing but the sound of the wheels rolling across the concrete of your family’s driveway.

Now, to contradict it all, the pair of you were stood upon even ground, it wasn’t outside of either of your homes, it was strangely the perfect place for this. And you found your dread slightly dissipating, aware that this was always going to happen, the road had just ended.

We could call it even

You could call me “babe” for the weekend

He was confused as to what to say or do. This was the first instance that he had seen you again in a place other than in his sheets, it was overwhelming.

“You haven’t been answering my messages.” His tone was calm, but in it, pain was presented, his sad blue eyes also justified that aspect of his aura. “Here for another weekend?”

It came across as less pleasant than he had anticipated, he was stressed to say the least. Something happened to him, it was out of the ordinary, he had wanted to speak to someone, and the first person that had came to his mind was you.

‘Tis the damn season, write this down

I’m staying at my parents’ house

Wringing your hands at the sound of his voice, it was visible that his presence made you nervous. That wasn’t what he wanted at all, he already scared himself after that sheathing of wolf fur wrapped itself around him and chose him as its vessel. His intent wasn’t to make you mirror his discomfort.

And so he uncrossed his arms, putting them into his trouser pockets and tried to look as relaxed as his exterior could fathom.

“I’m staying with my parents, it’s the holidays and all. Had to come home somewhen.”

And the road not taken looks real good now

Time flies, messy as the mud on your truck tires

But you knew, that it was all to return to him. That was the universe’s plan for you, if you ever tried to get away, it’d only force you to reconnect once again. There was no escape, and a part of you was not complaining about that.

The other however was outrageous, nothing could ever be easy, it all drifted down shore from the plan, the ultimate dream. Using your voice to sing was the goal, however here you were instead, mentally cursing and dragging the name of the planet through the darkness inhabited in your neurons.

Now I’m missing your smile, hear me out

And the road not taken looks real good now

Right now, all you wished was to stay. His smile was inviting you to do, and so you stepped cautiously towards Hamish, hands going to his face and pressing the pads of your fingers to his cold cheeks.

Snow began to fall, but you could care less. It already felt like there was a blizzard forcing to search for shelter, and here it was, in the body of this one man. He was different from the rest, he was your road, the one you wanted to continue on, rather than drive away from.

And it always leads to you and my hometown

Sleep in half the day just for old times’ sake

His eyes shut at the contact, it was far more passionate than the times you had seen him during your occasional visits. Don’t get it mistaken, the sex was great, however it was a coping mechanism, rather than a true example of love.

There had been something missing, at first you assumed that it was the lack of labels between the two of you, however you proved yourself wrong after realising that it was the proximity that the pair of you had once had.

The loyalty, the trust, the knowledge that the two of you had traded. It had always been mutual, and so was this heartache, it wasn’t fair for the pair of you to be apart, yet still suffering from more than the distance.

I won’t ask you to wait if you don’t ask me to stay

So I’ll go back to L.A. and the so-called friends

There was one singular thing that Hamish desired to ask. However it’d be a two way street of cruelness if he allowed it to slip. But if he gave it permission to leave his mouth, then perhaps it would be a different story.

Everything could go back to normal, the way things had been. Except from him of course, he was forever changed, he was the house to a creature so unbelievable, yet proven real, that he could not just dispose of it. That would end in his death if he were to split from this monster within him.

But he would also die if he had to be distanced mentally from you any longer. He took one long stride of his leg, cupping the edges of your face, and clashed the two of your lips against his own. The contact was hungry, needing to swallow any last breaths that could possibly be breathed in each other’s presence.

If he had it his way, he wouldn’t break the unison against you, however he had to, otherwise he would surely have to catch your tired body, not that that would be the worst thing in the world.

“Stay, don’t go again.” It fell, permitting a moment of silence in the air. This required thought, but the answer could be sudden, if it were, then that would be the true response that he was seeking. It would be an instinct to remain here, with him, at your home.

Who’ll write books about me if I ever make it

And wonder about the only soul

It made a sigh tumble from the hollow of your throat, as though you were shocked by his defiance and desire. However you were not, the grand query was to come to pass sometime, it had been eventual, until now.

He had finally ripped the band aid from the soreness upon his beating chest, and done so to your own. He had opened the wound, allowing it to breathe in the surrounding air, making your own hitch as you thought of an appropriate reply.

It wasn’t professional to be so swayed by his proposition, however, what about all that you wanted to accomplish? The career you were pursuing, the town of Belgrave wouldn’t be so kind to permit you the reputation you were seeking. 

“I don’t know what to say.” The truth left your lips, the mind that was being stalled by all the possibilities, the two paths that were duelling for your footsteps, was suffering from total confliction. There was no easy answer, either way, you were to be giving something you loved up.

Who can tell which smiles I’m fakin’

And the heart I know I’m breakin’ is my own

“How about yes?” He was desperate to hear it, the confirmation that you would remain with him through the tough time that he was painfully living through. Your absence, albeit how it was completely your choice, did not help the situation. 

Hamish needed someone that not only he could rely on and trust, but would help him. Somebody whom could keep him in touch with his human side, and away from the likening to alcohol that he had picked up upon now that he was legal to purchase it himself.

“Okay. I’ll stay for a little, but no promises to it being permanent.” You had been swayed by not only his engorging blue eyes, but also the pain, the pleading that echoed behind them. He was desperate for you to remain with him, and you feared for his mental health if you didn’t compromise.

To leave the warmest bed I’ve ever know

We could call it even

Even though I’m leaving

The pin had dropped, the choice had been made. The sacrifice bled out from your heart, the same red as the sheets that were currently around you. Hamish stared up at the ceiling, his hand softly stroking the skin of your shoulder.

“It’s funny, every time that we spend the weekend together like this, I tell my mum that I’m seeing an old friend from school.” The sound of your voice pursed a smile to Hamish’s face, he huffed a small, almost wolfish laugh.

“That’s kind of the truth, if you think about it.” He pulled you closer, placing a slow yet short kiss upon your lips, to which you reciprocated. This had been the best choice that you could have made, for not only the man nestled in the bed beside you, but also yourself.

And I’ll be yours for the weekend

‘Tis the damn season

We could call it even

It was both a selfish and selfless call that you had taken. One that perhaps one day, you would kick yourself for making, but right now, you held no regret to it. Hamish had been your first love, and fate had it so that he would also be your last.

“My mum would be over the moon to know that I was with you rather than one of the girls that I took bio with.” She had forever been fond of Hamish, even before the two of you had became an item. Even your father had a likening to the young man. The pair would pleased that the two of you were still in communications.

“What are we now?” He asked seriously, he had reeled enough answers from you for one day, however it was another thing that he would have liked to know. He didn’t merely want you to be his only over the weekend, he wanted it to return to the way it all was, before your first departure, he’d ensure that you had already taken your last ticket out of town.

You could call me “babe” for the weekend

‘Tis the damn season, write this down

“Us, I suppose. The equals to one another, as we always were.” His dimples showed at the clarity that you provided. Until he felt a pain in his back, it cracked up through his spine as he felt it begin again.

The dreaded transition, the curse was sparking to life in the worst possible moment. He needed you to be away from him, if he harmed you, then that would surely kill him. He couldn’t have a mark from his own hand upon you, it would be against his will, but the blood would have still been drawn by himself.

I’m staying at my parents’ house

And the road not taken looks real good now

Time flies, messy as the mud on your truck tires

Hamish’s sudden seating in bed had you frowning, your hand caressed his his shoulder, however he snarled at your touch, harshly shrugging you off from him. To say you were worried was an understatement, in the light of the afterglow, he had always been quiet and calm, but this was something you had never witnessed. 

If you believed in anything beyond this world, perhaps you’d have suspected he was possessed by something greatly evil and controlling. But they were all tales, fiction and fairy tales that were drawn into illusions and dreams.

“Are you okay?” He wasn’t, and if he didn’t get space from you, then you too would be suffering. And so he spat the only thing that he could think of to get you to spook, to run far away from him.

Now I’m missing your smile, hear me out

We could just ride around

And the road not taken looks real good now

“I’ve changed my mind. Leave!” It was as though he roared the words at you, and he had you in a haste to scramble for your clothes and leave his room. This wasn’t supposed to happen, none of it. But he knew that he had been too greedy, he couldn’t be alive with this horrible circumstance that was inside of him and have you. 

It may not have been fair, but it was the safest route. In the end, he had figured it out, you couldn’t help him with this. He didn’t want to tell you, he didn’t want you to know that he was a monster. 

You never believed in the supernatural anyways, and that was now for the best. It would make you safer, and more importantly, have faith that he was just a jerk, not some killer that hunted under the full moon.

And it always leads to you and my hometown

It always leads to you and my hometown

You had escaped from your hometown. But Hamish would always draw you back, one way or another...

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Hi Steph!! I was wondering if you knew of any really long fics (like 25k or more) that are only one chapter, I travel a lot sometimes and some places don't really have good enough internet for multi chapter fics. So yeah, any really long one chapter fics about John and Sherlock would be appreciated. Thank you!

Hey Nonny!!

LOL OKAY FUNNY STORY. I almost replied to this with “oof I’ll have to read EVERYTHING so I’m sorry.... and then... I remembered.......

I put chapter counts on everything 🙃😐 

I’m not the brightest crayon in the box. 🖍 

Anyway, so yes, I can definitely rec you some fics! BUT I should also offer you two suggestions you can totally do to read ANY fic!

On Ao3, you can click on the “Entire Work” button to load ALL chapters of a fic (it’s the very first button along the top) and in turn you can then just read it all there! 

And the very last button along the top, you can Download copies of the fic to your phone or computer with eBook file types (AZw3 for Kindle, ePub for iPhone’s Books app, and MOBI is for other mobile devices and e-readers), the HTML if you want to read it as-is in a web-browser, or the PDF format which is a universal file format that is supported by everything, even web browsers, so it’s a good one to download if you don’t know what format you need :) If you read on an eReader, though, I can’t recommend enough just downloading the format for your device. You get to keep a copy of the fic AND the eReader keeps it nicely formatted. It’s a BRILLIANT, BEAUTIFUL feature that Ao3 gave us, because I like downloading all my fics and read them later in iBooks. Once you start that, Nonny, you can’t do it any other way. AND at the VERY END of the fics, it links BACK to the original post so you can bookmark, kudos, and comment on it!! <3

So yeah, two options you can do to solve your poopy internet and still read long fics hee hee! <3

ANYWAY EXCUSE FOR A NEW LIST LOL. 

ALSO, side note, check out @silentauroriamthereal; a large chunk of her fics are both long AND one chapter, so it’s a good place to go and she’s a brilliant author so I don’t think you’ll be disappointed! <3 Plus a lot of her fics are on this list, so I am sorry hahah.

AND I wanted to make the list a bit longer than I had, so I picked fics over 20K, if that’s alright :) As always, if you wrote a 20k+ single chapter fic, let us know!

SINGLE CHAPTER FICS OVER 20K WORDS

A Life Well-Lived by Kate_Lear (E, 20,121 w., 1 Ch. || Original Male Character, Sherlock Woos John, Jealous Sherlock, Reluctant Bi-John, Past Abuse, Insecure John, Reassuring / Caring Sherlock, Protective Sherlock, Understanding Sherlock) – John got scared off men by an abusive past relationship. Sherlock has to try and woo him while not scaring him off with protective possessive rage.

The White Lotuses by SilentAuror (E, 20,340 w., 1 Ch. || Slow Burn, Domestic, Romance) – One day John realises that he just isn't where he belongs, which is back at Baker Street with Sherlock. So he goes back and Sherlock, in his own way, courts him. Romance.

Out of the Woods by SilentAuror (E, 20,471 w., 1 Ch. || Post S4, Romance, Slow Burn, Flirting, Drunk Sex, Practical Jokes, POV Sherlock, Bottomlock, Possessive John, Pining Sherlock, Frustrated Wanking, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, First Kiss/Time, Virgin Sherlock, Love Confessions, Soft Sherlock, Dancing, Bum Appreciation, Hanging out with the Yard) – Sherlock is fairly certain that John has taken to flirting with him of late, but can't be entirely certain of it. At least, not until a case takes them into a forest, along with Lestrade's team and something happens that will change everything about their lives...

You're On the Air by prettysailorsoldier (M, 20,616 w., 1 Ch. || Unilock, Matchmaking, Radio, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Sherlock POV, Pining Sherlock, Flirting, Bisexual John) – The Consulting Detective and The Woman dominate the airwaves of their university radio station, doling out advice on everything from meeting the parents to sexual positions. When their ratings start to dip before the holidays, however, manager Mike thinks it's time for some fresh blood, and who better to fill in the gaps than rugby captain--and notorious flirt--John Watson? Part 1 of 25 Days of Johnlock

whiskies neat by Ellipsical (E, 20,660 w., 15 Ch. || Alternate First Meeting, POV Second Person Sherlock, Slow Burn, One Night Stand, Rimming, Blow Jobs, Anal, Soldier John, Crying, Emotional Lovemaking, Switchlock) – Home and hearth and whiskies neat, or, alternatively, Sherlock Holmes falls in love.

Achieving the Together-Coloured Instant by teahigh (E, 20,776 w., 1 Ch. || Est. Rel, PTSD, Codependency, Fluff & Angst, H/C, Smut, Demisexual Sherlock, Experiments) – John wonders if this is how it’s going to be: A life speaking in code, because they’re both too stupid to figure out how to say, “I love you.”

Winter's Delights by Kate_Lear (E, 21,173 w., 1 Ch. || Holmes Family, Christmas, Fake Relationship, Friends to Lovers, Bed Sharing, Domestics) – Sherlock takes John home for Christmas to meet the extended Holmes family. Part 1 of Winter's Delights

Love Is by SilentAuror (E, 21,508 w., 1 Ch. || Angst, UST / URT, Post HLV, Romance) – At Mrs Hudson’s urging, Sherlock finally decides to tell John how he feels about him. Part 1 of Love Is

echoes through time by chellefic (E, 21,619 w., 1 Ch. || First Time, Romance, ACD & BBC, Epistolary) – Mummy sends a trunk from the Holmes cottage in Sussex to 221B. Its contents alter the way John and Sherlock see themselves and one another.

Ghost Stories by SwissMiss (M, 22,256 w., 1 Ch. || Pining, Holmes Family, Christmas, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Bed Sharing, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, First Time) – Sherlock's parents think he and John are a couple. They might be onto something.

Sonatina in G Minor by SilentAuror (E, 22,574 w., 1 Ch. || Case Fic, POV Sherlock, Angst, UST, Sherlock’s Violin, Post-S3, Romance) – John has come back to Baker Street, but Sherlock doesn't understand the strange tension between them, even after he begins teaching John to play the violin at John's request.

The Kepler Problem by kinklock (E, 24,270 w., 1 Ch. || Sci-Fi AU, Alien Sherlock, Space Repairman John, Alien Biology, Horny John) – Working in uncharted space exploration was not as exciting as John had hoped, especially when it turned out to be mostly bot maintenance on uninhabited planets. However, the mystery of the repeated, unexplained malfunctions on planet BAK 2212 might turn out to be exactly the kind of adventure he'd been craving.

26 Pieces by Lanning (E, 28,236 w., 1 Ch. || H/C, Torture, First Time, Happy Ending, Schmoop, Past Abuse) – Mycroft gives Sherlock the apparently simple task of solving a puzzle box containing a stolen microchip. It isn't simple.

The Wisteria Tree by SilentAuror (E, 29,773 w., 1 Ch. || Post-S3, Emotional Love Making, Amnesia/Memory Loss, Sherlock Loves John So Much, Sherlock POV, Romance, Angst with Happy Ending, First Times, Hurt/Comfort, Est. Rel., Retirement) – Sherlock wakes up from a month-long coma only to discover that he has no memory of the previous six years to his own shock as well as John's...

Shallow Grave by SilentAuror (E, 31,672 w., 1 Ch. || Romance, Angst, HLV Fix It, Infidelity, Pining Sherlock, First Person POV Sherlock) – Starts as Sherlock's plane is taking off at the end of His Last Vow. When he finds out that Moriarty is alive and that he's being recalled from his mission, Sherlock decides that he should have told John how he felt before he left. So he walks off the plane and kisses him.

The Midas Touch by flawedamythyst (E, 32,231 w., 1 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Magical Realism || John has a Magical Cock, Dub Con, Healer John) – John Watson has a medical condition that means everyone he sleeps with is instantly healed of all illness and injury. This causes complications when Sherlock breaks his arm, and even more complications when Sherlock falls in love with him. Yes, this is a story where John has a literal magic healing cock. It's a lot less cracky than you're probably imagining. Warning: Contains complex issues of sexual consent, although not between Sherlock and John.

The Whore of Babylon Was a Perfectly Nice Girl by out_there (E, 32,897 w., 1 Ch. || Past Drug Use, Blowjobs, Toplock, Mentions of Switching, Rough Sex, Background Cases, Sherlock’s Past, Sherlock’s Sexual History, Experienced Sherlock, Past One Night Stands, Fingering, Cuddling, Possessive Sherlock, Paris Holiday, Bed Sharing, Naked Lie-Ins, Bathing Together, Confessions, Worried Sherlock, Laying in Bed All Day, Meddling Mycroft, Naked Lazy Day) – Sherlock walks into a room and takes all the space right out of it. He does the same inside John's head.

Our Enthusiasms Which Cannot Always Be Explained by withoutawish (M, 32,961 w., 1 Ch. || Christmas, Fluff and Angst, H/C, Post-TRF, Case Fic, Mild Gore, Sherlock Whump) – The list that is tacked haphazardly on the refrigerator of 221B reads, ‘Kidney(s), and/or a full cadaver (preferably male, late 30s, under six feet tall), bag of fresh toes, sixteen cow’s eyes (corneas retained), dual exhaust hand –held flame thrower, an unopened first edition copy of Joseph Conrad’s 'Heart of Darkness', and no less than ten abhorrently gruesome murders in the upcoming month.” The one neatly hanging next to it simply reads, “Sex.” One of these lists is not John Watson’s. If John Watson were to put what he really wanted in list form, to live in a land somewhere beyond ‘almosts' now that Sherlock Holmes has indeed returned to him, he would never be able to look his flatmate in the eye ever again.

Bedtime Stories by Liketheriver (M, 34,388 w., 1 Ch. || Emotional H/C, Romance, Angst & Humour, Bed Sharing, John First Person, TRF, John Whump) – John's POV during Season 2 and beyond when Sherlock takes up semi-permanent residence in his bed. A collection of codas and missing scenes wrapped up into one long fic and topped with a bow that takes the story beyond Reichenbach and into happy territory once more. Part 1 of Bedtime Universe

The Yellow Poppies by SilentAuror (E, 34,952 w., 1 Ch. || H/C, Nightmares, HLV Fix-It, PTSD, Trauma, POV Sherlock, Doctor John) – Sherlock is threatened and assaulted in the hospital immediately after having been shot in the heart, first by Mary, then by Magnussen. As he recovers at Baker Street with John and plans the attack on Appledore with Mycroft, he fights to work through the trauma caused by these two visits. Set during His Last Vow.

The Unfinished Letters by SilentAuror (E, 37,391 w., 1 Ch. || Post S3 / S3 / HLV Fix it, Angst with Happy Ending, Romance, Infidelity, Depression, Case Fic, POV Third Person Sherlock, Love Confessions, Pining Sherlock, Letters) – A fire at Baker Street leads John to read something he was never intended to see: a notebook of half-written, unfinished letters Sherlock wrote during his time away...

Set in Stone by SilentAuror (E, 39,309 w., 1 Ch. || Romance, Wedding, Therapy, Fluff and Angst) – Sherlock and John are back from Ravine Valley and planning their wedding. However, as they move past the trial of the human traffickers, Sherlock can't help but wonder if he's imagining that John is becoming a little distant. Surely he isn't getting cold feet about the wedding... Part 2 of The Ravine Valley series

Act IV by SilentAuror (E, 39,707 w., 1 Ch. || First Person POV Sherlock, HLV Fix-It, Infidelity, Angst, Drama) – After Sherlock is shot, John moves back into Baker Street. They spend the autumn together as John tries to make sense of his life and make some important decisions about both Mary and Sherlock. Canon-compliant, excerpts from His Last Vow.

The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse by SilentAuror (E, 50,635 w., 1 Ch. || Post-S4/S4 Divergence, Case Fic, For a Case / Reverse Fake-Relationship, Conferences, Marriage Equality, Travelling / New York, Pride, Homophobia, Bottomlock, Marriage Proposal, John POV, Sexuality, Love Confessions, Emotional Love Making, Public Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, Passionate Kissing, Needy/Clingy Sherlock, Virgin Sherlock, Touching / Hand Holding, Bed Sharing, Little Spoon Sherlock, Intense Orgasms) – John and Sherlock go to New York to attend a conference run by the National Defence of Traditional Marriage Coalition in order to investigate the potential bombing of the annual Manhattan Pride parade. As the conference unfolds, John finds himself repulsed by the toxic ideology being presented, which becomes relevent to his own unacknowledged issues and his friendship with Sherlock...

[stutterfly]

Swipe Right 01 | Context Switch | JJK (M)

Rating: M (Explicit 18+)

Pairings: Jungkook x Reader, brot7 x friendship

Genre: E2L, fluff, angst [later on], humor, [eventual] smut, PersonalTrainer!Jungkook, fuckboy!Jungkook, Nerd!Jungkook, Nerd/IT!Reader

Word Count: 12.8K

Fic Summary: Jungkook wasn’t always like this. Or maybe he was and you don’t want to admit that he had you fooled. You quickly discover he has a lot more to offer than exchanging pleasantries and awkward small talk. In fact, he never seems to shut up.

For the better part of a year, he’s held your irritation hostage, never passing up an opportunity to deliver savage one-liners at your expense. When he discovers you’re on Tinder, he turns up the brattiness factor and intentionally seeks you out. Who knows? Maybe if you gave him a chance he could charm the pants right off of you. Then again, maybe he’s just a fuckboy.

Tags: Fuckboy Jungkook, like cannot stress enough Fuckboy Jungkook but gets soft later, dirty jokes, talk nerdy to me, PUNS, friendship feels, sexual tension, Jin being bad at copying Mario’s accent, Namjoon being bad at accents

CW:  panic attacks, filthy language, this whole chapter is setup so like nothing too bad i dont think???

Series: Activate your SIMCard Fic: Swipe Right (1/?- Ongoing) Do not repost. masterlist // next chapter

(A/N: This is part of my “Activate Your SIMcard” series. Each member of BTS has their own AU in which IT/TechSupport/NerdReader gets dating help/advice and ends up falling in love with them instead. As with a dating sim, the same characters are utilized--same professions, similar scenario placement-- but different interactions/pathways lead to different romances. ~Anyway here’s the Jungkook route.~ The Namjoon route, “Love Bytes” is currently in the works.)

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Nerves wrack your stomach as you make your way down the hall, clinging to the man beside you. His strides seem gigantic next to yours and you find yourself struggling to keep up with him. “Stop walking so fast, Namjoon.”

The man laughs, but slows his pace just enough to allow you to walk side-by-side. “Sorry. I’m just excited for you to meet them.”

Digging your fingernails into the flesh of his elbow, you swallow hard. It’s been a couple months since the young English professor stumbled into your life holding the pieces of some very expensive, very shattered college property. State of the art technology, brand new, busted in less than a week of his arrival. He’d get the biggest chew-out of his life if he presented it to your boss, and you were too sympathetic to let that happen.

While you’d willingly paid for the whole thing out of pocket to cover for the newbie, it had definitely put a strain on your finances and what little social life you had. Within a week he’d worked up a repayment plan than spanned the course of a year. He even started buying you a coffee every Friday as an apology for how long it was going to take.

After a few months of bonding over kung-fu movies, life before Namjoon’s friendship seemed like a distant past, a hazy dream. It was natural that your new bestie wanted to grow your pitiful social circle. But there was a reason you didn’t let people get close to you. The fact that Namjoon had slipped past your defenses so fast made him an anomaly worth dissecting for scientific discovery.

Just the thought of having to now socialize with people you don’t know has your temperature boiling and your head spinning.

He attempts to tug his elbow away from you, and you stumble forward, keeping your death grip on him. “I know, but talking to people isn’t exactly my strong suit. Are you sure it’s best I meet all six at once?”

“You’ve already met Jimin,” he begins, clawing at your hand with long, veiny fingers until you release your hold on him, “but he’s not coming tonight, so don’t worry... you can relax a little.”

Your face twists into a sour grimace as you try to sputter out a response. “I-Pfft. I mean. Jimin’s a model. His face is on billboards and shit. Like… how is that supposed to not be intimidating?”

“Jimin is the world’s biggest sweetheart,” he laughs, shoving his hands into his pockets as you continue down the hallway. “You don’t have anything to be afraid of. I have a feeling you two will get along fine once you stop being so shy.”

You huff and tick your jaw a few times before wringing your hands together. Maybe.

“Anyway. Taehyung is out of town on business, but you can meet him another time. He’s kind of quiet when meeting new people too. Hoseok and Yoongi texted they might be a little late. It’ll just be Jin and Jungkook you’re meeting now. And it’ll be just the four of us for a bit.”

A deep breath escapes you as you hook your elbow with his. “Okay. I just… I’m nervous.”

He stops at the door at the end of the hall and looks down at you. “Give them a chance. If you’re still feeling bad in an hour, then we’ll leave, and I’ll hang out with y’all separately from now on. Deal?”

You eye his extended palm peeking out from beneath the crook of your twined elbows before a smile creeps across your face. You shake his hand. He always knows what to say. “Deal.”

As Namjoon knocks, you leave the comfort of his side, realizing how your anxious clinging might be mistaken for a romantic gesture. You begin to shrink back, trying to hide in his shadow before the door opens. You’re about halfway there when a young, well-built man appears, prominent leg muscles bulging from beneath his basketball shorts as he props the door open with his foot. There’s a cup of instant noodles in his hands, and you’re pretty sure at least half of its contents are dangling from his mouth.

The scent of garlic and rosemary drifts into your nostrils, and you freeze as you cower behind Namjoon, realizing how long it’s been since you last had a decent home-cooked meal. You were promised free food so maybe it won't be so bad after all.

“Ah, Namjoon,” he greets and gestures with his head towards the domicile. “Come in--Oh!”

He chokes a chunk of noodles back into the paper cup as he notices your figure standing behind the tall man.

“Jungkook, this is Y/N,” Namjoon says, stepping to the side and pushing you out into the light of the apartment “I told you she was coming tonight, remember?”

Jungkook’s dark brown eyes widen and he pumps a fist into his chest a few times as he tries to get the remnants of spicy noodles dislodged from the back of his throat. Namjoon sent a bunch of texts this week making sure it was cool to bring someone to hangout night since he’d made a friend at work and wanted everyone to meet them. The way the texts were worded definitely didn’t give any indication that the friend he was bringing tonight was a woman. Maybe they did. Maybe he should have read more of them.

The muscular man before you holds the remaining food in his cheeks and waves bashfully with two fingers as he swallows. "Jungkook," he mumbles, as if the name itself is introduction enough and all but sprints from the room.

Seconds later, a new voice shrieks out from the other room. “What are you doing eating that?! Dinner will be ready soon! Jungkookie if you don’t put that down--!”

A dull smacking sound accompanies the clattering of silverware and plates. You swallow hard, trying to think about anything other than the way the young man had rushed out of the room at just the sight of you. Maybe you’re just that ugly.

“Hey! I’ll eat! I’ll eat! I promise!” Jungkook cries out. His voice drops an octave. “Namjoon is here.” Their conversation becomes indiscernible, but you can’t shake the feeling that you are definitely the subject of their quiet discussion.

You throw a worried glance in Namjoon's direction. "Did I do something wrong?" your voice is hushed as you work your sneakers off, trying to hold in the crazy amount of anxiety that threatens to unscrew the top of your head and send your brain exploding into the ceiling.

Namjoon shakes his head, unbothered by his friend’s odd behavior. "Honestly, I texted him a bunch this week to make sure it was cool and I got one-word replies so I'm wondering if he even read them." He bites his lip and spares a glance back at you, knowing he probably should have kept that to himself.

"Oh," your heart sinks into your stomach and threatens to fall out your butt as you straighten your spine. "If that's the case, should I... leave?"

"Leaf?!" A bright green piece of lettuce is thrust into your face. "How about a whole salad? You can't go before you try it! It's unbe-leaf-able."

You blink in rapid succession, trying to stifle a laugh at the cackle emanating from the man whose bony fingers are holding the lettuce. It sounds like a... windshield wiper? A giggle slips out, stronger than your will to keep it tucked behind your lips, and it only seems to make the grin on his face stretch impossibly wider. Heavy shoulders rise and fall with his laughter, causing the bright pink apron across his chest to wrinkle.

Namjoon groans. "This is--"

"Now do you smell that delicious flavor in the air? Because this just a taste of what you will find at my amazing restaurant 'Heart and Seoul'," he announces, cutting off the man beside you as he clutches the lettuce to his chest with eyes closed. "Where I give you a piece of my heart and soul... Some refer to me as Worldwide Handsome, others call me the God of Cookery. Some call me an angel and believe I fell from heaven." He bows with a flourish and takes your hand in his. "But you can call me..." He finally looks at you, a dark smoulder in his features that sets your cheeks on fire. "Later?"

He seals your fate with a gentle kiss to the back of your hand. Your jaw, which has been hanging open for some time, finally decides to snap itself shut.

"This is Seokjin, and he's going back into the kitchen to finish making dinner." Namjoon is already ushering his friend back towards the kitchen and chiding him as you purse your lips together to hide the smile spreading across your face. Did you just stumble into some alternate universe where all of the men you meet are ridiculously good-looking?

"It's nice to meet you, Seokjin," you call after them before letting your eyes wander around the room.

Paintings line the walls and photos sit on the bookshelf in the corner. As you approach the shelf to get a closer look, you realize those aren't books, but video games. There must be hundreds. Don't people use cloud storage for most of their games now? Your eyes curiously scan the photos on the top shelf. The man who had introduced himself as Jungkook is in all of them. There's another man in a couple that you don't recognize, but his gaze is piercing and cold when he's not smiling. You're able to pick Jimin and Namjoon out in a few, but it feels like looking at a family photo. Everyone seems so close; it makes you envious.

You lick your lips and can't help but admire the collection of video games underneath. You crouch to get a better look at the ones lining the bottom shelf. You're surprised to see there are games for all types of consoles: PS4, XboxOne, Switch, WiiU, Nintendo DS, SuperNintendo, PlaystationVita, PC... The list keeps going. Jealousy spikes your gut as you note a Mass Effect "SSV Normandy" ship figurine on the shelf above your head. You eye it with wonder and pride as your memories flood with the hours you spent playing the trilogy. Your fingers reach out to brush against the raised letters on the side of the ship.

"Have you played Mass Effect?" a quiet voice asks from behind you.

You jump in place and spin on the balls of your feet in a fluid motion that nearly sends you careening into the basketball shorts in front of you. Surprised by how close Jungkook is standing, you gasp and stumble back into the bookshelf, causing it to wobble and bring some of the frames filled with photos tumbling down onto your head. You wait for the impact but it never comes.

As you look up, Jungkook has several frames balanced on his arms and between his fingers, carefully maneuvering them away from you and back onto the shelf. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to scare you! Namjoon told me you liked video games too and I saw you looking at the Normandy and I thought maybe you've played it. Ah, I'm sorry."

It's hard to miss the crestfallen way he rubs the back of his neck and stares at the floor once he places all the photos back on the shelf. You're still in shock that he caught everything before it smacked you in the head, but you force yourself to respond anyway. "No, it's okay. I'm just a jumpy person. It's my fault. I'm just glad I didn't break anything. I'm... asari? Get it? 'Cause like, I'm sorry... but also hot blue alien chicks, am I right?"

He smiles wide and laughs softly as he offers to help you up. As you take hold of his hand, you're quickly thrust to your feet with an ease you weren’t quite expecting. You steady yourself by reaching out to grip his arm, a movement you reverse the moment you feel the firm muscles beneath his t-shirt.

"Thanks," you mumble. Feeling his hand tense around yours, you take it back and twiddle your fingers. "So what decisions did you make? Renegade or Paragon? Rachni Queen? Samara's mission? Quarian and Geth dispute? Genophage?" You pause only to take a breath. "If you let Wrex die, we can't be friends."

He blinks at you a few times before breaking into a relaxed smile. “Of course not. What kind of monster do you think I am?”

You allow a relieved sigh to pass your lips. Maybe this wouldn’t be so painful after all.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

You must have made a good impression that night. It’s been nearly a month and Namjoon’s friends have started pulling you into their group texts and Saturday night plans. This had been fine by you since you rarely had anything going on. Honestly it was kind of nice to be included.

While you still don’t exactly know everyone, you feel fairly comfortable talking with your new friends. Seokjin is absolutely hilarious. He’s so full of himself that his cockiness rides the line between charming and annoying; it’s hard to decide which aspect overwhelms his personality more. But you know that you find him irrefutably, irritatingly attractive because of it.

Jungkook is still polite and rather gentlemanly towards you. Your conversation about Mass Effect was enough to tide over any residual awkwardness regarding your initial meeting. He’s just a muscular, nerdy introvert who seems genuinely nice. However, Namjoon insists that Jungkook is still hiding a louder, brattier side when you’re around. He’s got this theory that since you’re a friend of a friend, Jungkook is holding back his usual antics for some reason. The harmless little crush you’ve developed on him has you secretly holding out hope that it’s because he wants to ask you to be his girlfriend. You’ve considered asking Jin what he thinks, but that man has no tact and honestly you’re afraid he’d just ask Jungkook with you standing right there.

Hoseok is a ball of smiling energy, one who has been begging you to visit his dance studio. It’s hard to say no, but you’ve managed for this long because of the very real possibility that you won’t be able to do anything but stare at the dazzling way he moves. He seems to take pride in his ability to make others feel good and absolutely beams when he’s the cause of his friends’ happiness. You can easily see yourself talking to him without Namjoon around to act as a buffer, which is amazing for someone with your level of social anxiety.

Yoongi is quiet, but when he speaks his words are sharp with purpose. Some people might mistake that for coldness, but you can tell he has good intentions and a soft heart underneath. His pointed remarks in the group interrogations have poked fun at you, but never in a condescending or cruel manner. And it’s certainly not in the way you see him absolutely roast the others. Maybe he’s taking it easy on you.

Jimin is still so beautiful to look at it devastates you, leaving a flustered, stuttering mess behind every time he leaves. Now that he’s become aware of the effect he has on you, he’s been testing the waters of your friendship with some teasing that borderlines flirtation. But you have a feeling he’s just screwing with you because he finds it funny to see you squirm. You’re hoping to build the confidence to dish it back some day.

Taehyung has been a little standoff-ish, but Namjoon had already warned you about that. You wonder if it’s because he’s a hundred times richer than you’ll ever be. Despite seeming like he’s in a different social class, he still seems deeply fond of his friends, and relatively down-to-earth. He’s a bit quirky, but he’s an artist, so you expect that kind of thing.

Namjoon says that he’s known almost all of them since college, so he’s been able to absorb most of the discomfort associated with meeting new people. He’s sweet, and more relatable than you originally would have thought for an English professor. He’s kind of like a pillar that you never knew your life had been missing. And now that he’s got your back, you can’t go back.

The smell of coffee pervades the air as you skim an article on your phone regarding the latest Halloween skins for Overwatch. You’re supposed to be meeting Namjoon here but Seokjin, and Jimin showed up and have been chatting about their plans for the weekend. Apparently they throw a Halloween party every year and it’s Jimin’s turn to host. Seokjin is supposedly in charge of planning the decorations due to his love for theatrics and has been discussing the possibility of a haunted house walkthrough. You smile at the thought of Seokjin popping out of the shadows to drop fake spiderwebs on people. It sounds like the kind of thing he’d get off to.

Namjoon flops down on the couch next to you. “You’re coming, right?”

You’re broken from your thoughts as you scroll further down the page. “E-Excuse me?”

“The Halloween party. You coming?”

You look up from your phone, feeling everyone’s eyes on you. “I mean… I don’t want to intrude on your group thing.”

“You’re not intruding!” Jimin, Jin, and Namjoon’s voices all stack upon each other and you’re taken aback by the sound.

Jin frantically scrambles to make you feel included. “Y/N, we just assumed you were coming. Of course you’re invited! You can help me get everything set up for the scary walkthrough. Please come.”

“Don’t give her work to do that you should have already figured out,” Jimin hisses before sending a warm smile your way. “I’ll text you the address later. It’s a costume party so make sure to dress up!”

Your bottom lip unconsciously protrudes in a pout as you pass a discouraging look Namjoon’s way. “What are you going as?”

He gives you a heartfelt, dimpled smile. “Sherlock Holmes,” he says with the worst british accent you’ve ever heard in your life. “World’s greatest detective.” He drops his accent and starts gushing. “The tweed suit is fairly iconic and most people will recognize the costume so I think it’s a safe option. Originally, I was going to go as Judge Di but Jimin kept telling me no one would get it. It would take some research to really get a feel for how he’d dress, but I’d be willing to put in the work.”

Your eyebrows furrow. “Judge Dee? Like…. Judge... Ju...dy?” you trail off in confusion, immediately regretting your decision to ask.

Jimin throws his hands up as if this is the proof he’s needed to convince his friend that he’s wrong. “You see? I told you no one knows who that is.”

“Judge---! Really?!” Namjoon looks like he’s about to go off, but he shakes his head and sighs. “You know what? It’s okay. I look really good in a tweed suit. That’s all that matters.” He finished his statement by gesturing towards his chest.

You can’t help but laugh. “You’re such a dork.” You turn your attention to the others and raise your eyebrows at them. “What about you two?”

Jimin drags his teeth over his lip and shyly smiles. “I’m going as Iron Man. Tae’s been helping me build my costume for a while now.”

“Jungkookie and I are going as Luigi and Mario,” Jin proudly states he leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees while tenting his fingers. “I’m Mario, of course, since everyone knows he’s the best.”

You roll your eyes. “Sounds like you, Seokjin.”

“What will you come as?” he questions with a smirk, cocking a mischievous eyebrow at you.

“Well...” you hesitate, knowing that most costume shops will be sold out of anything interesting or slutty; at this point your options are limited unless you want to be a Crayola shit brown crayon. “I’m not sure yet,” you mumble, scratching your cheek sheepishly. “I only found out just now so I don’t have anything ready. I usually go over Jennie’s place, hand out candy in my pajamas and watch scary movies, so I don’t know if I should bail on her like that.”

Solid excuse. Great job, brain. Really. Can I sound like more of a loser?

“She can come too,” Jimin offers with a thoughtful tilt of his head and a warm smile. “It’s a very open party. Lots of people will be coming and going, so it’s no trouble if you want to invite more of your other friends, if that makes you comfortable.”

Other friends. Like you have more than this group and Jennie. You’re going to just pretend like you didn’t hear that part. You can already hear her shrieking at you to say you’ll be there. She loves dressing up and would be more than happy to exchange a night of handing out candy for a night of partying. You suppose you can always get some vampire teeth and dab some fake blood on your mouth, but it feels like a cop-out. It’s a solid back-up plan at the very least.

“Okay. I’ll think about it,” you murmur with a fleeting look of panic directed at Namjoon.

He offers a sympathetic smile and pats your shoulder. “It’s okay if you don’t come. I’m just saying there will be free food.”

Your spine straightens and you perk up.

“Free food?” The words on you’re about to utter spill from a different source. A chin drops into the space between Namjoon’s shoulder and yours. Jungkook’s hair is still wet, but thankfully it’s not long enough to brush against your skin. The soft, sweet, almost floral scent of his body wash wafts into your nose as you turn your head to look at him. You surmise he’s come directly from work if he’s showering in the late afternoon. You internally swat the butterflies playing with your ribcage, trying to remember how to act normal.

Jungkook smiles sweetly, his eyes nearly closing with how high his cheekbones have risen. “Where is this food?”

“At the Halloween party,” Namjoon comments with a dismissing wave of his hand. “I was just telling Y/N that she’ll miss out if she doesn’t come.”

Jungkook raises his eyebrows and drops his smile as his surprised stare pierces your periphery. “Oh, you’re not coming?”

“I was thinking about it.” You immediately feel the need to defend yourself. “I don’t have anything to wear.”

“So don’t wear--” Jungkook catches himself before the word anything comes out. “A costume,” he finishes simply, straightening his spine and clearing his throat. “I mean we can make an exception. No one’s gonna kick you out.”

A devilish grin spreads across Seokjin’s features. “I’m sure I can help you find a pink dress and crown if you’d like to be our lovely Princess Peach. We can give each other items.”

Jungkook’s eyes widen at his friend and Jin stares back with anticipation, waiting for him to make the mushroom joke he clearly set him up for. Jungkook purses his lips and quietly regards you. As the moment passes, Jin’s brow furrows and he crosses his arms in a huff, wishing that he’d said it instead. It’s been too long since you’ve blushed for his liking.

“Maybe I’ll show up in a leotard, spiked collar, and fishnets as Bowsette instead.” You nearly snort at your own joke.

Jungkook and Jin spill their surprise over one another.

“Whaa? Really?” Jin’s mouth hangs open, the image already permanently searing its way into his brain.

“You what?” Jungkook clamps his hands over the edge of the couch, hulking figure looming over you.

While Jimin and Namjoon are both oblivious what a Bowsette is, the words “spiked collar and fishnets” have certainly grabbed their attention as well.

You blink a few times, realizing how serious everyone has become as you sputter out a nervous laugh. “Kidding, guys. Kidding.”

Jin tuts in disappointment, slinking back into his chair. Jimin simply smiles. Namjoon breathes a relieved sigh. Jungkook starts walking away, distracted by the signage on the counter promoting a cinnamon chocolate chip milkshake.

“Besides, I’m more of a…” A lightbulb flicks on in your head and the thought comes spilling out your mouth before you can process it. “Oh, I have a cosplay from the gaming convention I went to a year ago. Maybe I can wear that.”

All three men lean forward, suddenly very interested in the concept of you using a cosplay as a Halloween costume. Jungkook’s head snaps in your direction just as he extends his hand to give his money to the cashier, but he drops it prematurely, sending coins scattering across the counter.

The sound causes all of you to look over at him and he quickly turns back to the cashier. She raises her eyebrows at him as he scrambles to recover all of the money for her. His ears turn bright red from the attention and you can’t help but put yourself in his shoes, cringing at the embarrassment coursing through your veins at the thought of swapping places.

Spinning back to face the others, you find Jin and Jimin on the edge of their seats, staring at you. Namjoon blinks at you and tilts his head expectantly. “You were saying?” he prods. “Something about an anime costume?”

Suddenly you’re embarrassed for yourself rather than Jungkook. “Don’t be weird, Joonie. It’s just a Princess Zelda cosplay.” You scratch your cheek in contemplation, murmuring, “Actually, I don’t even know if it still fits since I’ve gained some weight since then.”

Namjoon pats your shoulder assuringly. “Ah you’re fine. Don’t worry too much about it, ok?”

“He’s right. Just bring your smile, cutie,” Jimin says encouragingly.

You blush at the nickname and grin in response. He said it innocently enough, but you get the feeling that you reacted exactly as he had hoped because he exchanges a smug smirk with Seokjin. “See? Bring that.”

“Ah, you guys are embarrassing me,” you mumble, diving back into the article on your phone. “I’ll talk to Jennie about it later.”

Jungkook listens carefully as he tongues his cheek and waits for his drink to arrive at the counter. Are you really going to show up in that? He pulls out his phone and starts skimming amazon. There’s no way he can pass up the opportunity, regardless of what’s at stake.

A familiar veiny hand sets the drink down on the counter, and he outstretches his palm. “Service was good, yeah?”

Jungkook looks up from the checkout page and locks eyes with Yoongi. He scoops a large portion of whipped cream from beneath the lid and pops it in his mouth thoughtfully, smacking his lips as he washes it down with a sip through his straw. Yoongi raises his eyebrows at him expectantly, but remains silent.

“Hmm, I’ve had better. Maybe if I had some more whipped cream?” Jungkook suggests as he tilts his cup forward and gives it the tiniest shake, shit-eating grin strewn across his features.

Unblinking, Yoongi squirts a puff of cream into the top of the container before loudly setting the can on the counter. Satisfied, Jungkook reaches into his pocket and fishes out some money for a generous tip. “See this is why you’re my favorite barista. You always make it just how I like it.”

Yoongi forces a smile as he stuffs the cash into the half-filled tip jar. “The Java Stop values your patronage, customer.”

He catches a glimpse of Jungkook’s phone screen before the younger man snatches it from the counter and walks away. What the hell is he up to?

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

You curse your past self for choosing Zelda’s outfit from Twilight Princess rather than Breath of the Wild; style over comfort rarely is a good choice, but it’s a choice you often repeat without forethought. It’s tighter than you remember, and not just because there’s a corset sewn into the chestpiece. As you sit in the passenger’s seat of Jennie’s Civic, you fidget with the hem of your dress. Without taking her eyes off the road, she reaches over and slaps your hand.

“Stop it. You look great.”

You rub the back of your wrist and pout, knowing it does nothing to change her mind. You eye her tattered dress, wishing you could pull off something so slutty with the same confidence she does. White contacts make her look even more ethereal than she normally does. Natural waves and curls poke out from beneath the bent witch’s hat atop her head and you can’t help but admire her beauty.

“I look like a nerd,” you say, feeling shittier the longer you compare yourself to her. It’s not her fault. You’re just insecure and wish that you could be more like her rather than the you that you are.

“You are a nerd,” she laughs. “What’s wrong with that?”

You smile. “Nothing, I guess. I don’t know why I’m so worried about it. It’s not like I’m gonna be getting laid any time soon. This costume solidifies it.” Negativity is something you’re used to dosing yourself with, but you know it’s an action you need to work at correcting.

“Hey if no one wants to fuck you in a Zelda costume, do they even deserve to fuck you?” Jennie asks, wagging her pointer at the ceiling as if scolding some invisible source above. “I don’t fucking think so.” She tuts for a second. “So speaking of… Which ones are off limits?”

You scoff and stiffen in your seat, trying to play dumb. “What? What’s off limits?”

“Y/N,” she starts in an accusatory tone. “I’m sure there will be lots of hot people there, but I’m talking about seven hot people in particular. Now if they came up to me and said ‘hey Jennie you so fine you wanna suck all seven of our dicks?’ I’d be like hell yeah I’ma suck all seven dicks. Get in a circle and let me at ‘em.”

You smack your hand to your forehead, wishing you could purge that image from your brain.

“Now I’m just saying in this hypothetical situation that I would never turn down going down on any of them if they asked. Unless I remembered that one time you told me you were crushing, maybe, just maybe I wouldn’t suck that particular dick.”

“We’re about to go see these people. I don’t want to be thinking about this while sipping my drinks across from Seokjin. That man can smell fear, shame, and insecurity,” you mumble, looking out the window at the trees lining the side of the road.

“So that’s why we get it out now before we get there. Can’t possibly slip out if you’ve already got it out of your system,” she explains with a confident smirk.

You cross your arms and give yourself a moment to truly think about the seven men. You certainly find all of them attractive, but crossing that line might make things weird. But maybe, hypothetically… “I don’t know… They’re all pretty hot in their own way…”

“You’ve got to be attracted to one more than the others,” she prods. “Come on, Y/N. Which one does it for you?”

Your tongue clicks against the roof of your mouth before you sigh. “I guess…” You subconsciously lick your lips and give it a few seconds before the memory of falling picture frames surfaces in your mind. An embarrassed smile flickers across your face as you give your quiet, honest answer. “J-Jeon… Jungkook.”

“The young one!” Her mouth falls open. She drums her fingers against the steering wheel excitedly and spares a delightful, yet surprised look at you for a fraction of a second before her eyes return to the road. “Really? I never would have guessed. But I haven’t talked to him much honestly. Doesn’t he work at that nerdy-looking gym you almost joined? What was it, Iron Kingdom? You could always sign up for personal training. Ya know, get some one-on-one time with those muscles...”

“He’ll think I’m dumb for not knowing how to do anything,” you mumble. “Besides that’s not why.”

You shake your head and pause to start counting the list on your fingers. “Okay so he’s got muscles, a cute laugh, he likes video games, he literally always smells so fucking good, he has a great smile, he’s nice, and like he’s so mature for his age. I’m so surprised.”

“I mean from the few times I’ve seen him, I thought for sure he’d be a tool and a major shithead,” she admits.

“I know, but seriously don’t judge a book by its cover. He’s been so chill and respectful and has made me feel so welcome over the last few weeks. None of that fuckboy shit you’d expect to get with younger guys like, he doesn’t talk over me, no mansplaining, he looks me in the eyes and not at my tits, and listens when I say something, even if it’s just me talking about my day.” You pause, registering the words you just said. “Wow, the bar is really low, isn’t it?”

“Sad, but true.” She nods, glancing at the GPS on the dashboard. It’s says you’re nearly there, but it’s kind of further out from the city than you’d both been expecting.

She laughs, mulling over everything you’ve said. “He seems kinda shy. You probably need to make the first move. Maybe you should tell him you have a big fat crush on him. Tell him you wanna hold his hand. Do you think he’d blush? I bet he would. I bet he has a cute flustered face. You should totally do it.”

Recalling the way his ears turned red at the cafe causes you to purse your lips, but the action can’t hide the smile curling at the corners of your mouth. So you have a little crush on Jungkook. Who wouldn’t? He’s practically flawless and totally swoon-worthy. Your heart races as you imagine his reaction to your outfit. Would he be taken aback by how good you look as one of the hottest, most iconic female characters in gaming history? He’s a huge geek so you know there’s a possibility that he could appreciate it. Sweaty fingers work their way down your wig, carefully smoothing out any loose strands. You hope he does.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Walking into Jimin’s place feels like entering a mansion. He told you that he lives with two other people from the same modeling agency, but you didn’t realize how big the place would be. Seokjin’s ability to gather this many decorations and display them with such attention to ambiance is certainly a feat worthy of praise. You find yourself lost in the orange and yellow lights that border each doorway and drape along the walls. Their soft glow is comforting as you walk down the dim hallway, exploring the house just enough to find the table filled with fruits and snacks.

Jungkook is nowhere to be seen and you find yourself breathing a sigh of relief as you sip punch out of a red plastic cup, filling a plate with an excessive amount of strawberries, peaches, and other sweet fruits. Contrary to your previous belief that admission would mean freedom from the thoughts swirling in your brain, uttering the words out loud has made you paranoid that everyone now knows about your secret crush. You’re hoping that drinking will remove the worry from your brain, so you do your best to down the liquid fast and refill your cup.

Jennie immediately hit it off with one of Jimin’s roommates moments after walking in. You’re envious because holy fuck that guy is tall and jacked, and he’s wearing a Captain America outfit. Jennie is about to make out with Captain America and you’re gulping down spiked punch from a little plastic cup. You appreciate being able to silently agree to split, but know that you have each other’s back if either of you were to suddenly express interest in leaving, even if Captain America is balls deep.

She’s an extrovert. She loves socializing. Tossing a strawberry into your mouth, you eye the table of snacks again. You don’t. You love food. Food or sex would be a tough toss-up for you depending on the menu, and in this situation food definitely wins. There’s a buffet table of appetizers looping around the room and into the kitchen. It doesn’t get much better than this, especially knowing it was catered by Seokjin’s restaurant.

You remove a glove and tuck it beneath your armpit as you stuff your face full of sweet treats and survey the amount of people on the dance-floor. There are a good amount of people here --some with ludicrous costumes-- and it makes you feel better about being able to blend in.

You had arrived fashionably late only because Jennie may have passed the house a few times, thinking this place couldn't possibly be it. A hand skates around the periphery of your vision and you frown as it attempts to surreptitiously claim a peach slice from your plate. Following the hand to its owner, you find a smile quickly claiming your mouth in place of the previous sour grimace.

"There's plenty of peaches left over there," you say, pointing to the table of snacks beside you.

"Mmm," Namjoon hums as he pockets the fruit in his cheek. "But this pile is better. I can deduce that you've already picked out the best pieces, Zelda."

You look him over from head to toe, examining the details of his tweed suit. You hate to admit he's looking dapper as fuck in this outfit. Despite often wearing three-piece suits to work, you rarely have time to stop and really appreciate just how flattering they are on his frame. Your eyes settle on the dark brown silk carefully knotted around his neck. "Don't you get sick of wearing ties?"

His eyes widen and he blinks at you as if you'd just told him that he sat in some gum. "Do you think I should have gone with the bow-tie? I spent hours weighing the pros and cons to both and which would be more quintessential to the whole ensemble. Did I make the wrong choice?"

You open your mouth to respond, meaning to allay his concerns and tell him that he looks fine, but he interrupts rather quickly. "You know what, don't say anything. I brought the bow-tie as a backup. It's upstairs in the guest bedroom. I'll go put it on."

You grab his arm just as he's about to leave, noting the plate full of chicken wings precariously balanced on one hand. "Namjoon. Chill. Your tie looks fine. I was only asking because I would strangle myself if I wore one all the time. Now gimme some of that chicken."

His eyes dart from you to the plate in his hand and his anxiety seems to visibly melt away, replaced with a soft smile. "I'm overthinking again, huh?"

The words have never come easier than they do now. "No shit, Sherlock."

At that he offers a laugh. "How about a trade? I share the wings for access to the princess's treasury of peaches."

"Deal," you agree with a smirk, wiggling your eyebrows up and down. "Wanna people-watch with me?"

He nods enthusiastically as he tosses a handful of fresh fruit directly from your plate into his mouth. "I was gonna wander aimlessly and socialize but this sounds way better."

"Glad we're on the same page," you murmur into the chicken wing at your lips, sucking the sauce off of it and scanning the room for any particular eye-catching costumes.

The flash of red, flowing satin catches your eye. Is someone wearing a bathrobe? Seriously? The taste of hot buffalo sauce causes your lips to tingle as you note the soft, fuzzy edges of the robe. It looks comfy, actually.

You elbow Namjoon in the ribs, directing his attention to the slender, black-haired figure gliding across the room. Namjoon opens his mouth as if to identify the stranger, but the flourish of the robe beats him to it. As the material spins, you catch a glimpse of tan skin peeking out from the chest, long legs exposed as he reaches for the sash at his waist.

The silk billows as it comes undone, cascading to the floor like a river of crimson. There's no mistaking it. You're now staring at the nearly nude, half-painted body of Kim Taehyung. You can't help the way you jaw drops open at the sight of so much skin being flaunted seemingly without a care in the world. Namjoon's hand flies up to cover your eyes, as if he's going to spare you the sight you've already taken in. Now that you've seen Taehyung in a thong, there's no going back.

Sauce-covered fingers pry his away from your eyes just in time to meet the piercing gaze of the man across the room. Is it mirth or anger that graces his features? It's hard to tell with a paintbrush trapped in the box his teeth make. He takes lazy strides across the room as you struggle to keep your eyes off the unforgiving fabric outlining every last curve of his dick. It's not until he's closer that you notice the thin belts crossing his hips, which appear to be holding six tubes of paint, three strapped to each side like gun-holsters. You have to admit they frame his crotch rather nicely.

It takes every ounce of willpower you possess to keep your eyes trained on his face. He carefully takes the paintbrush out from between his teeth and extends it to you. "Draw something pretty on me, Y/N. You too, Joon. Tonight I'm a human canvas on display for the universe."

Your eyebrow quirks as you exchange a look with Namjoon and set your plate down. "You know people are just going to draw a bunch of dicks on you, right?"

He scoffs, waving off your concerns. "Don't be so negative. I will have a beautiful mural by the end of the night. Mark my words."

"I think you're putting too much trust in the goodness of human nature," Namjoon comments, his lips pressing together in an attempt to hide the amused grin that is quickly spreading across his features.

Taehyung cocks his head to the side and leans forward with a lopsided grin. You're afraid he's about to get even closer and whisper some dirty secret into your ear. Instead he asks in a breathy, low tone, "Princess Zelda wouldn't draw such dirty things on me, would she?"

Twirling the thick handle of the paintbrush between your fingers, your eyes dip to the paints secured at his waist. His eyes chase the trail yours make down his side and his delight splits his mouth into a goofy grin. "Oh. Help yourself." He gestures to the colors available with a sweep of his hands just above his hips. "Feel free to use your fingers instead.” He pauses when your mouth falls open slightly. “You know, to paint... Just be careful what you grab, Princess," he jokes.

Removing your other glove with your teeth, you drape them over your shoulder and reach out for the tube of yellow paint, trying to hide the way your hand trembles. He looks down and smiles as the cold paint touches his skin. Before long you have the faint shape of 3 triangles at the center of his chest.

“How fitting,” he murmurs, offering an amused hum as you fill in the last triangle with a glob of yellow that threatens to run down his torso.

“Oops, sorry,” you apologize, moving to tap the brush against the excess, but he grabs your wrist before the bristles can make contact with his skin again.

“That’s alright. Let it do what it does. I like it like this,” he says, watching the clump of paint slowly slide down his midriff. “Besides I’m sure someone else can use it.”

“Like Sherlock!” you suggest, holding the paintbrush out for your companion.

Namjoon takes it begrudgingly and uses the excess yellow to draw a small smiley face beside the triforce symbol.

“Cute,” Taehyung laughs as he takes the paintbrush back from Namjoon. “I love it. Thanks guys.”

Just as he turns to find his next artist, a long object bars his path, pressing against his chest just above the collarbone. You follow the shape of the bar to its owner, revealing a grinning Hoseok clad in an officer’s uniform.

“That’s a bold choice Taehyungie,” he says, securing the faux nightstick into a loop at his waist. “Just make sure you keep that thing on…” He gestures to the small bit of material at Taehyung’s crotch and holds up a pair of handcuffs with his index finger before continuing, “or I’ll have to arrest you for indecent exposure.”

“Impersonating an officer is a crime, you know,” Namjoon says, even as he’s reaching out to touch the shiny metal. “Wait. Where did you get these? Are they real?”

You squint at the device in Namjoon’s hands, looking for the safety release latch like the cheap pair you bought to use with your ex. You don’t see it. That can only mean that these are the kind where losing the keys would have real consequences. But you’re not about to out yourself as the kinky freak you are, so you bring your nearly forgotten drink to your lips and guzzle what’s left in the cup.

As the empty plastic hits the table, your eyes happen to trail across the room and land on a crowd of people gathering around a very impressive, fully-lit Iron Man costume. Jimin seems to be soaking the attention up as the crowd grows ever larger. The massive room has begun to diminish in size, and it’s as though the once comforting lights are now wilting and closing in on you, threatening to strangle the air from your lungs. The adrenalin spiking your veins is telling you it’s time to seek the comfort of open space and solitude. Fast.

You duck beneath Namjoon and Hoseok’s arms, carefully sidestepping around Taehyung to avoid brushing against the wet paint on his skin. “I’m gonna get some air. Try not to get cuffed, Sherlock,” you manage to joke with a smile before turning on your heels and booking it from the room.

If anyone responds to your joke or even acknowledges your exit at all, it’s lost on your ears. Sweat beads on the back of your neck as you hastily attempt to make your way down the hall. If you can just get outside, you can breathe. You’ll be fine. You know it.

Warm bodies clutter the path to your freedom and you can’t help but feel more and more breathless by the never-ending apologies spewing from your mouth as you squeeze past each blockade. You don’t feel like yourself, even as you speak. Taking in sharp, greedy breaths like this isn’t helping. Why is this place so devoid of oxygen? Your body moves on autopilot, seeing the faces of the people you pass, but not feeling their eyes on you.

You float out of the front door, your head as light as a feather, but your eyelids feel like they’ve been anchored. You’re positive you’re about to gracefully glide down the front steps, legs becoming amorphous blobs beneath you that will surely allow you to fly. Just as you’re leaning into the momentum of gravity, two pairs of hands steady your shoulders and criss-cross around your midriff.

“Deep breaths,” Jennie’s voice briefly cuts through the ringing in your ears.

“Do you need to sit down?” The other voice spills into your eardrum as a rushed whisper, one that’s dripping with concern.

Huh? You work on steadying your breathing instead of trying to answer.

“What did she drink?” the familiar voice asks Jennie, the brief flicker of panic quashed by the evenness of his tone. “How much has she had?”

“Relax, Yoongi. Not even our lightweight champion gets drunk that fast,” Jennie reassures him as they help you seat yourself on the top step. “Are you familiar with panic attacks?”

Yoongi rubs the back of his neck and nods silently, backing up to give you some space.

“Jennie. I’m fine now. Thank you,” you mumble, shaking your head and regaining your sense of self. “I’m glad you have my back.”

“Of course. I saw you in the hall and I just knew.”

You jump when you meet the gaze of her white, eerie contacts, which causes both her and Yoongi to laugh. You look up at Yoongi. He shoves his hands into his pockets, long flowing shirt obscuring any flesh poking out from beneath it.

“Hey, you’re not dressed up,” you blurt, realizing he’s sporting a very goth, natural Yoongi look.

He scoffs before bending at the waist and baring his teeth. A single vampire fang is affixed to one of his canines.

You tilt your head like a dog hearing a strange noise. “What, only one fang?”

“Just as dangerous, princess,” he warns with a smirk, standing up straight.

You swear you see a wink, but then again maybe you’re imagining it. You have been known to exaggerate things in your head. Still your stomach somersaults and you focus your attention on Jennie. “I’m okay. I think I’m gonna chill out here for a bit. Get back in there and dance with… god what was his name? Jackson? Jae-beom?”

“Jin-young,” she corrects before biting her lip and glancing back towards the house.

“Go. Hottie McYoungie won’t wait forever,” you tease and point your thumb over at the man hovering above you. “Don’t worry. I’ll be fine with toothless over here.”

Yoongi rolls his eyes at the nickname but nods at Jennie. The answer seems to be satisfactory and she gifts you with a tight hug. “Text me if you need anything, okay?”

“Okay. Love you. Now go get laid.” You whisper to her before playfully pushing her back. Before you know it she’s scrambling up the steps and slips back inside, tattered dress swinging wildly with the sway of her hips, revealing just enough of her fishnet-clad thighs to draw Yoongi’s attention. There’s a fraction of a second where he wets his lips as he watches her go, but it’s gone in the blink of an eye. You don’t have time to tease because his dark eyes fall to you.

“Is there anything I can do?” His face is stoic but you can hear the sincerity in his tone.

“Wanna take a walk with me? I’d like to keep away from the big crowd.”

“I know the perfect place,” he says, hopping down from the steps and offering you his hand.

You take it with a smile and rise to your feet, carefully moving down the steps as you dust off your butt. The night air is a bit chilly and you start to work your gloves back up your arms to fight the goosebumps forming there.

That’s when you hear it. You want to misread the sound for a flute, recorder, oboe, or even someone’s radio, but you know those are all incorrect assumptions. It’s an ocarina: an ocarina playing a crude rendition of the opening to ‘Gas Pedal.’

Turning slowly, nothing can prepare you for the sight before you. Jungkook stands on the top step of the porch dressed in a green cap and tunic, tan leggings, and the ugliest dark brown boots you’ve ever seen in your life. He’s got the ocarina nestled between his lips, slowly descending each step with a roll of his hips that accentuates the definition of muscles behind the thin material hugging the shape of his legs.

Your eyes are wide, mouth falling open in surprise. “Jungkook?”

As he jumps down the last step he stops the tune and cups the ocarina in his hands, bowing slightly. “Princess.”

“What are you doing?” you ask, biting back the intimidated voice in your head that’s telling you you’re being picked on.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” he asks in a low tone, a crooked smile crossing his features as he takes a few tempered steps towards you.

You swallow. How are you supposed to answer that? You take a deep breath, trying to drive off the urge to run as he advances on you. Yoongi takes a few steps back and folds an arm over his torso, cupping his elbow as he brings a knuckle to rest against his mouth with intrigue. He couldn’t hold out for one more day? Should I step in? He brings his weight to the front of his foot, ready to diffuse the situation.

“It looks like you’re trying to fuck with me.” You stand your ground, clasping your gloved fingers and calmly resting them against your dress in true Zelda fashion.

Yoongi’s weight shifts back, retracting the step he had taken. A direct accusation isn’t exactly something he would have expected from you, but he finds himself pleased nonetheless. He certainly chose a difficult target this time.

Jungkook gets close enough that you can see the tick of his jaw and the part of his lips as he drags his eyes across your form, settling on the cleavage created by your corset. “Some of those words were right.” He pauses, leaning to whisper against the shell of your ear. “Can you guess which ones, Princess?”

Heat consumes your face as his posture straightens. He doesn’t budge past the space he’s already claimed as his, but he doesn’t move forward again to invade yours. He watches, basking in the full on show your face puts on for his own entertainment. First comes the confusion, next realization, and then shame.

It’s hard to tell if he’s coming onto you or picking on you. You swallow, throat growing drier by the second. “You knew I was coming as Zelda. Weren’t you coming as something else?”

He throws his head back enough to feign exasperation while keeping his eyes trained on you. “Come on. You don’t like my costume?”

Instead of giving you time to answer, he brings the ocarina back to his lips and blows an obnoxious amount of air through the hollow space inside, producing a piercing rendition of ‘Talk Dirty to Me.’

Your shoulders raise as you inhale, suppressing the irritation bubbling within your belly. You wince, turning your head as a particularly shrill note escapes the instrument. Yoongi’s expression sours as he plugs both ears with his fingers.

Jungkook immediately stops playing and offers a sheepish grin. “Oops. I learned that one for you. Maybe I need more practice. Do you want to help me?” He briefly pauses to wet his lips, presenting the ocarina to you. “I can show you how to blow.”

You grind your teeth as your jaw ticks back and forth a few times before answering, “No thanks.”

Yoongi silently tents his fingers over his forehead and tries to massage the secondhand embarrassment from his skull. This is a trainwreck waiting to explode and at this point there’s no looking away.

Jungkook raises his eyebrows at you as he stuffs the ocarina into a small brown pouch hanging from the flimsy belt at his waist. “Ah. Sorry, Princess. I don’t mean to insult you. You’ve probably already mastered the art. Hah. Maybe you could show me a thing or two?”

Unable to form a proper response, your lips purse as the wheels in your head spin. Say something clever. Think of a comeback. Something. Come on. But here you stand, mind blanking for even the simplest of clapbacks. You’re having trouble coming to terms with the fact that your innocent little crush on the once “sweet” Kookie has come crumbling down with his facade, leaving your chest aching with the humiliation of your naivety.

He looks you over, admiring the artistry in the gown you’ve lovingly crafted. For a moment he’s lost in the embroidery stitched into the sash swaying in the breeze of a chilly October night. “I love your…” he trails off, eyes darting across your shape to capture every last detail of your attire.

He pays special mind to the gems adorned at your hips, and the heavy-looking chain belt which links the sash to your dress. He marvels over the color and velvet texture chosen for the purple corset at your torso. The sheer attention to detail and craftsmanship in your costume stuns him into silence for half a second.

His eyes reach the perky mounds of flesh peeking over the top of the corset. Miraculously his voice resurfaces. “...costume.”

The way his dark eyes linger on your chest isn’t lost on you. Your cheeks burn in the cool air, despite the goosebumps littering your arms. You cross your arms over your chest, higher than you normally would to combat his lurid gaze. The green hat atop his head folds over itself as he cocks to one side. Dark, hungry eyes snap to yours, voicelessly pouting at your blockade. For a split second a guilty excitement pulses through you, but you’ll be damned if you’re the cause of an obviously already inflated ego.

“You never said what you think of mine,” he prods. His eyebrows wiggle up and down as he slowly runs his hands along his torso, as if feeling himself up is going to sway your opinion.

You tell yourself not to fall for it, that he’s playing you for a fool right now. Still, your jaw is tight as your eyes helplessly follow the flow of his fingers down his body. His pinky purposefully catches on the flimsy pleather strap acting as the belt at his waist. An impish grin spreads across his face as he notes the way your chest stutters out the breath you’d unknowingly held. Satisfied, his hands continue their languid journey down his body. Your eyes are glued to the way he traces the contours of his thighs.

Finally his fingers dig into the meat of his those muscles and you feel the need to look away before answering. “I hate it.”

He sighs. “Hate is a strong word. Are you sure that’s how you really feel? Why don’t you look at me when you say that?”

Strengthening your resolve, you force your eyes back to his smug face. Stupid doesn’t even begin to cover how you’re feeling at this point. Biting back tears, you swallow hard and do your best to remain composed. Here he stands, a crooked smile amplifying the air of arrogance surrounding him. He’s playing you. He’s been playing you this whole time hasn’t he?

“I don’t even know who you really are, do I?” your voice cracks, only adding to your humiliation.

“I’m the bad guy. Duh.” With that he cackles as he pulls the ocarina from his pouch, proceeding to play the melody from ‘Bad Guy.’

You spin on your heels and storm past Yoongi, the blood rushing through your ears in a distraught rage, drowning out the bitter sound of the notes. A pang of guilt strikes the half-assed vampire as he stares at his friend. “One more day. You couldn’t make one more day?”

Jungkook shrugs, making his way back up the stairs. “If you see Hobi, tell him I’ll have his money tomorrow.”

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Dragging your hands across your face, you keep your gaze cast towards the ground.

How fucking idiotic, how self-absorbed have you been to assume that he’s been nice because he likes you and not because he was playing some game with you? He's probably just been waiting for an opportunity like this and you fell right into his trap. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

A hand clamps down on your shoulder and you spin, ready to deck the person you assume to be Jungkook. Yoongi's eyebrows raise as you stand poised to punch. He ducks to the side just in time. As you realize your mistake, it's too late. The momentum brings you forward.

His arms come up around you in a soft embrace, one that you're quick to return. "It's just me," he mumbles, kneading his thumb against your back. "...Sorry."

You bury your face into his shoulder, allowing the tiara to slip from your head and hit the soft ground with a dull thud. Why is he apologizing? He didn't do anything wrong. You want to tell him that, but any sound you make might bring about a slew of tears you've been holding back. Instead you just squeeze your arms around him even tighter.

He awkwardly pats your back a few times, not quite knowing what to do with the hug that's lasting longer than anticipated. Sensing his discomfort, you pull away and adjust your wig as you offer an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry."

A figure approaches, bending down to pick up the forgotten adornment. Out of the corner of your eye you see him rub the dirt off the tiara. Jin carefully places it on your head. "A princess should have a crown."

You look him over, noting the giant overalls, red newsboy cap and hideous fake mustache. You can't help but laugh as he forces a hard blink and puckers his lips, alternating lifting sides of his mouth so the mustache comically tweaks itself in a seesaw motion. "I like your costume," you manage between giggles.

He grins back, donning an over-the-top Italian accent. "I a-like-a yours too! A beautiful costume for a beautiful a-woman."

"Please stop," Yoongi groans.

Jin ignores him, fiddling with the corner of his mustache. "I don't-a know where my brother went. I think he's a-scared of the haunted mansion."

You roll your eyes at the joke. That's right. Jungkook was supposed to be Luigi. "He's busy playing a dick for the night."

A look of realization washes over him and he nods, puffing out air through overly inflated cheeks. "Hmm. You know what might-a make you feel better? Helping me scare-a the pants off of people!"

He folds his elbow and holds it out for you, tempting you to lace yours around it. Channeling your bruised ego and hurt feelings into scaring people for fun? That might just work. You feed your elbow through the crook in his. "Zelda and Mario working together."

Jin laughs. "The dream-a team!" He makes a motion to skip towards the outer entrance to the basement that he's dressed up with spiderwebs and a large, hand-made sign that says "MARIO'S GHOST HOUSE." Beside the entrance is a giant blown-up decoration of King Boo, its pink tongue flapping in the breeze.

As you're tugged in the direction of his creation, he stops abruptly. "Oh, we haven't had that many people though. So we have to make the few that come through count!"

Yoongi's eyes light up. "Hey. I’ve got an idea. I’ll get you a the best customer. But you have to really scare him. I promise it will make your night."

Puzzled, you furrow your brows and tilt your head. “Okay…?”

Jin grins like a maniac as Yoongi makes his way towards the front of the house. “Come on. I’ll show you the best spots to hide.”

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

About twenty minutes have passed since Yoongi left in search of his promised customer. Only a few people have wandered in. You have to admit it’s therapeutic to watch people scream and jump when you bang on the false walls within the maze Jin has somehow constructed in this basement. Watching people run up the final stairs to safety leaves you with a feeling of satisfaction, always giving Jin a prideful high-five before returning to the beginning to await more guests.

“Ah! My-a new-a guests!” you hear Jin enthusiastically greet the latest people to stop at the entrance. “Are you a-ready to have fun?”

There’s some hushed whispering that you can’t quite make out from your hiding place within the set.

“Don’t be such a pussy,” Yoongi chides loudly. “Seokjin made this. Do you really think it’s that scary?”

“P-Pussy?” Hoseok stares wide-eyed at his friend and scoffs. “Don’t be rude. I just know Seokjin. It will be worse than whatever I think”

Is that Hobi? You were kind of hoping Yoongi would get Jungkook to walk through. Knowing what you do now though, you have no doubt that Jungkook would be unphased by something like this. All you can hear in your head is the echo of his obnoxious laughter and a pang of hurt slices through your heart. God, you’re so stupid.

Yoongi points to the Boo’s tongue flapping in the wind. “It will be like that, probably. It’s silly to be so afraid.”

Hoseok bounces from foot to foot in uncertainty. Even a police uniform can’t steel his spine or guarantee safety. “Why should I do this to myself?”

Yoongi sighs. “I’ll help you look at new places and… help you move. I’ll even be your roommate if the rent is too high.”

Hoseok is beaming. How long has he been asking for help searching? Jin looks from one man to the other, hiding the subtle smile beneath his mustache. He knew Hoseok wouldn’t go in so easily, that something had to be offered up, but he really didn’t expect Yoongi to go so far.

Hoseok points at Jin. “You’re my witness. I go through this and he’s my roommate.”

“If the rent is too high only,” Yoongi tries to reason, but it’s too late. Hoseok has heard what he wants to hear. He grabs his friend and marches into the depths of the basement.

Immediately you bang the walls on their journey down, feeling Jin rush past you to set up for the next scare. Hobi screams. “Never mind! Never mind!”

Yoongi scoffs, dragging his friend forward. “Come on, officer.”

You listen for their footsteps as you circle the walls behind the maze. Hobi’s frantic yelling breaks through the room, slipping into loud curses. You pull your glove up and wait, peeking through the hole you’re hoping he’ll get close enough to. Even shrouded in shadows, Yoongi’s form peeks out from around the corner.

“Don’t think about the dark,” Yoongi says, slowly shuffling towards the wall with Hoseok crouched behind him, using him as a shield from any more scares. “Think about how you bet Jungkook he couldn’t stop himself from trying to get in Y/N’s pants, not even for one month.”

You freeze. Yoongi knows you can hear him, right? He has to know.

“Think about how well he was doing. You would have been cleaning his house tomorrow. Maid Hobi, bound by servitude.”

“I know…” Hoseok groans. “It would have been awful. He’s so messy! I wouldn’t even be getting paid! What was I thinking?”

“But instead, he bet you a month’s rent that he could,” Yoongi continues loudly. “He blew it tonight for the chance to dress up as Link and tease Zelda. He only had one more day.”

“He’s a dumbass,” Hobi comments with a nod, turning to look at the ceiling and making sure nothing is going to drop down on him.

You swallow, taking in the revelation Yoongi has just bestowed upon you. All this time you had spent thinking Jungkook was a sweet gentleman was actually due to Hoseok making a bet with him? You would rather have known Jungkook was a dick straight up because now the innocent, harmless crush you have on him feels so dirty and foul that you wish you could swipe it from existence.

It’s Jungkook’s fault. He lied. He pretended. You know this. But still you can’t help but partially blame Hobi for the bitter taste in your mouth. As Yoongi passes, you reach out, letting your fingers swipe down Hobi’s forearm and retract through the hole in the wall as he lets out a high-pitched scream.

“Hoseok, get off.” Yoongi tries to push away the man climbing onto his back.

“Something grabbed me! Something grabbed me!” Hoseok wraps his legs around Yoongi’s waist and huddles close to his neck pointing. “Over there! It grabbed me from over there!”

“Let’s keep moving, then.”

“No! No more! I’m standing right here until the sun comes up.”

“How is it standing if your feet aren’t touching the ground? I won’t carry you all night,” Yoongi says, adjusting his stance to compensate for the weight on his back.

“You will, too,” he pouts.

Jin helps you position a furry spider decoration above them, slowly dangling it lower until it finally hits Hoseok’s shoulder. The wail that escapes this grown ass man almost makes you feel bad. Almost. He swats the creature into darkness as he spurs Yoongi on by digging his heels into his belly. “Get me out of here! Please!”

Jin’s shoulders move up and down with the sound of his laughter as he slaps your hand in victory. Scaring Hobi made you feel a little better at least.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

The party has died down quite a bit and at this point Jimin has been passing you far too many drinks as he and Namjoon regale you with tales from college. Namjoon is clearly feeling toasty, laughing like a dork at every memory Jimin brings up. Apparently they were roommates and Jimin has a liberal arts degree from four years of being undecided.

Your head lolls around to rest on Namjoon’s shoulder, your backs pressed against the bottom of the couch as Jimin sits cross-legged in sweats and a t-shirt on the floor before you, his costume laying discarded beside him. He’s spinning his latest story of how Namjoon had accidentally thrown up on some girl he really liked. Yoongi silently lays on the couch behind you, smirking with his eyes closed. You can’t tell if he’s sleeping or just relaxing as you struggle to stand, using Namjoon’s shoulder as leverage to prop yourself up.

“Bathroom?” you ask distractedly, searching the room like a door will appear if you look hard enough.

Jimin smiles pointing at the doorway across the room. “Go out that door, take a left down the hall. It’ll be on your right.”

Your head dips a bit as you try to take in the directions. Namjoon looks up at you as you stumble forward, clearly off-balance. “Do you need some help, geeksquad?”

“I’m fine,” you mumble, hating the nickname he’s given you from work. “I’ll be right back. Don’t drink my drink.” You narrow your eyes at Jimin and he blinks at you in surprise, like you’ve accused him of such a heinous, unthinkable crime.

Rounding the corner, you pass a grinning Taehyung being led upstairs by a cute girl in a red beret, black and white striped shirt, and miniskirt with suspenders. Art hoe? Mime? It’s hard to tell what her costume might be. While his skin is covered in a beautiful mess of colors, your tri-force symbol still stands untouched at the center of his chest. You smile as you watch him climb the steps, clearly distracted. But as his back is revealed, your eyes widen at the sight of a mural of painted dicks. Well. At least he can’t see them.

You walk down the hall for what feels like an eternity, passing a few closed doors on either side. Maybe you should try one? Knocking on the one closest to you once, the door swings in and you lose your balance, not expecting it to open.

“What took you so long? I almost came without you.” The voice is pouty and low, somewhat familiar. He gasps when he realizes you’re not the person he’s been waiting for.

You stumble forward, falling to your knees and catching the bed frame before your face smacks into the wood. As graceful as you can manage, you pull yourself up. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to! I didn’t realize it was open and I was just looking for the---” The will to speak leaves you as soon as you see him.

A very sweaty, very naked Jungkook crosses his arms and he leans back expectantly, smushing the pillows behind him into the headboard. Your eyes take in the pleased expression on his face, quickly scanning the muscles of his folded arms, his chiseled abs, his bulging legs. The pointy green hat he had been wearing earlier tents across his sculpted hips and pelvis, thankfully obscuring any shape hidden beneath it.

“I didn’t think I’d see you again tonight,” he says, licking his lips as he watches your form tremble, practically falling apart in front of him before adding, “...Princess.”

A devilish grin overtakes him at the sight of you spinning around a little too fast, staggering towards the door and holding onto the frame for dear life. “I hoped I wouldn’t see you again tonight.”

“I can’t say it isn’t a nice surprise. You don’t have to leave,” he coaxes. “Do you wanna see my Master Sword?”

“Grow up!” You make sure to slam the door shut behind you. You hate him so fucking much it hurts.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

“Jennie, how could I be so wrong about him?” you sigh, dropping your forehead against the kitchen table. It’s been three weeks since you’ve talked to him, but it’s still the only thing you can think about.

Jennie takes a sip from her beer. “Sweetie, you’re not good at reading liars. Maybe you should look at some dating apps. You could get good read quick.”

“But I don’t wanna,” you whine into the coated wood. “Why can’t people just be nice?”

“Because. People suck. Come on, Y/N. Jungkook ain’t worth the headache. Drink with me. I’ll show you how Tinder works. It’s not so bad.”

When you don’t say anything, she tugs your chair across the floor, dragging your form close to hers and setting her phone down on the table. You peek out at the screen as you raise your head and rest it on a lazy elbow.

“Swipe right on the hotties. Swipe left on the fuckboys and losers. Jungkook? He’s a swipe left. But look at all these good ones on here. These are all swipe righties.”

You nod as she goes through a few profiles and begin downloading the app on your phone. Maybe she’s onto something.

[slutegoshi]

1Hi Beastars fandom! We got an actively updating Fanfic rec list!  Below is a collection of #Beastars fanfic I’ve read. This means just reading through some #Beastars tag on AO3. I can only read so much work a day, so the updates might come in a (or bi)weekly form and mass dump fic rec.  Enjoy! Read fic!  

SLUTEGOSHI NOTE: I love these all these fics so much and have gone back and re-read them several times over. I hope they become some of your favourites too. Remember if you have an AO3 account (or not) please leave positive comments and love on all these fics!  

RULES OF FIC: read tags  read with kindness constructive feedback doesn’t need to be destructive Explicit/Mature work should be read with discretion Keep Kink shame to yourself 

REC KEY ❤ - Slutgoshi recommendation Story Link - Author Link Rating - Completion Status - Word Count - Ship/Detail  or additional notes

Authors summary.

☆ TOP 5 FAVOURITE - of the week

1 . kill me more - sushishorts Mature - Complete work - 3976 wc - Haru/Legosi/Louis Summary: In which Louis knows, Haru urges on, and Legosi wonders.

2 .  The Wolf Trap - surveycorpsjean Explicit - Complete - 18,279 wc - Legosi/Louis, Action, adventure Summary: If you're going to play the game, you have to play it right.

3 .  A Tale of Moon - Wuffin_Arts (Chaptered Fic) Mature - Uncomplete - 8,000K+ wc - Louis/Legosi, Kid fic Summary: This story will focus on the life and drama of these two as they grow and learn more about themselves, and face the struggles of it all. 4 . Leave Me On Read - cutiefemdom Teen - Complete - 3624 wc - Louis/Legosi, cute, texting fic Summary: Louis gets Legosi's number to keep an eye on him but instead slowly falls in love. 5 . do we realise that we’ve already closed our eyes - aiineslin* Mature - Complete - 1631wc - Louis/Ibuki, sad, angst fic Summary: he has always followed where life took him, unflinching and unresisting. ** this fic is labeled restricted and might not be able to be read by non-ao3 users. if you can’t view it, it’s because it’s restricted by author.

☆  ★  ☆  FULL SLUTEGOSHI REC LIST  ☆  ★  ☆

SLUTGOSHI - Legosi Centric Fic 

☆ Fluff / Angst / Non Explicit How to Handle Your Harem - TheFancySquid Teen - Complete - 1218 wc - Legosi / multiple characters, comedy Summary: Legosi has a harem, plain and simple. But the animals in the harem aren’t too happy to have to share the grey wolf. muted emotion - sushishorts Teen - completed - 5245 wc - Legosi/Jack, Imprinting fic Summary: Jack isn’t an idiot. He’s a dog, and his kind are bred to be the most intelligent creatures of their world. Their biological strain is the end result of the strive for perfection. As far as he wished that his arrogance for knowledge would prove him otherwise, Jack knows the question that’s coming. "Who did you imprint on, Jack?"And he’s afraid to say the answer out loud. Wolf, Dog, and Deer - TheFancySquid General Audience - Complete - 1651 wc - Jack/Legosi/Louis, Old Friends Summary: Jack and Legosi have been best friends since the moment they met. They did everything together; looked for bugs, dug in the dirt, and thing you could think of these two would do it together. They thought their duo couldn’t be better, until they met Louis the red deer. Bloodstained Wolf - GoGetterBrae Teen - Uncomplete - 46,000+ wc - Legosi/Male!Reader, First Person fic Summary: Two male wolves in love but they couldn't be more different.

Collared - Reflet271 Teen - Uncomplete - 11,000+ wc - Legosi/Reader, Second Person fic Summary: Human beings are treated nothing more than slaves to animals. Some try to escape. Others accept their fate. So what will you do?

☆ NSFW

Come Vibe With Me - cripplingfanficaddict Explicit - Complete - 1843 wc - Bill/Legosi Summary: Bill gives Legosi a major vibe check, and Legosi absolutely hates it. Legosi then decides to get that sweet, sweet revenge.

Loyal to You - orphan_account Mature - Complete - 4455 wc - Legosi/Jack, Slow burn, angst Summary: Jack and Legosi had been inseparable since childhood and Legosi's sudden disappearances take a toll on his best friend in unexpected ways.

Lustful Thoughts - Welcumtotheshitholecanitakeurorder Mature - Complete - 7,582 wc - Riz/Legosi, One-Sided Pinning Summary: He knew that the thought of fighting the wolf was accelerating, but he didn't think it would push him off the edge.

OT3 - HARU/LOUIS/LEGOSHI

☆ Fluff / Non Explicit Your Favorite - orphan_account ❤ Teen - Complete - 772 wc - chatfic, humor, fluff Summary: Haru and Louis love their boyfriend, even if he is horribly incompetent when it comes to electronics (and flirting).

Morning In - callmecacti General Audience - complete - 841 wc - Domestic fluff Summary: Legosi's day off and they're having breakfast together. every morning, every night (I will love you the same) - Soqquadro ❤ General Audience - Complete - 1,400 wc - Fluff, Feel-good Summary: It’s a normal day, but those are the ones Legosi enjoys the most. terminological inexactitude - sushishorts ❤ Teen - Complete - 4006 wc - rumor mill, Canon Divergent Summary: In which the Drama Club believes that Legosi and Louis are fighting over Haru, and completely misses out on the most important detail of it all.

Porclelain Wolf - FatDragonLair Teen - Complete - 1,518 wc - Angst fic with happy ending Summary: After having a severe injury a week ago, Legosi hasn't been the same. Louis and Haru are worried for the wolf and try their best with fixing him. Wild Side - slycooper20 Teen - Uncomplete - 19,000+ wc - Included OC, Cannon Divergent, Cherryton Summary: An old friend of Jack's gets accepted to the prestigious Cherryton Academy, but when he gets involved with the mysterious grey wolf Legoshi, his life spirals out of control as an unsolved murder, a mysterious stranger, and a gang of lions all enter into his life.  The Way you Bloom - Sanomo Teen - Complete - 4,219 wc - Alternate Universe, adorable Summary: The day in the life of a flower shop owner isn't always fun, certainly not when she is a dwarf rabbit; but sometimes all it takes is a gentle wolf to brighten her day. ☆ NSFW

Bad Liar (Series) - pocketfullofbees Explicit - Uncomplete - 22,000+ wc - Canon Divergent, 120CH, BDSM Summary: Legosi and Louis share a feral first kiss. Legosi has to deal with the fact that he might be in love with the guy who let him eat his leg, and his rabbit girlfriend. The three of them try to hang onto each other while also trying to figure out this crazy adult world.

kill me more - sushishorts ❤ Mature - Complete work - 3976 wc - Getting Together, Haru and Louis scheme Summary: In which Louis knows, Haru urges on, and Legosi wonders.

To One I am Tied, to the Other I am True - Born This Gay (Sinpie_Senpai)  ❤ Mature - Complete Work - 6111 wc - Snapshot, Getting Together Summary: Legosi is in love. Louis is exasperated. Haru is fond of them both.

little red riding hood - dedicaiton Mature - Uncomplete - 1,046+ wc - Alternate Universe Summary: Haru is a little rabbit that explores deep into the woods to find a blood-red flower. But whatever is lurking behind those trees is seemingly more trouble than this venture is worth.

The Rabbit, The Deer and The Wolf - jekyllhyde Mature - Uncomplete - 1,300+ wc - Alternate Universe Summary: Haru and Louis are engaged and living together, both looking forward to a bright future as an herbivore couple who have been together for a few years.That is... until a big, bad wolf moves next door and their lives become a whole lot messier.

LOUGOSHI 

☆ Fluff / Angst / Non Explicit 

dream of me - grieve* Teen - Complete - 7413 wc - Pinning, One-shot Summary: Louis is in love with Legosi.

The Ride Home - Doubtfuldeer ❤ General Audience - Complete - 1352 wc - Domestic Fluff, One-shot Summary: OTP prompt: They comes home after a very long drive. Person A is wide awake, but Person B is extremely exhausted and falls asleep in a very uncomfortable spot. Person A wants to carry them to bed, but there’s a problem: B is really tall, and REALLY heavy, and A is very weak.

Utlerior Motives - Doubtfuldeer, pocketfullofbees ❤ Teen - Complete (series: on-going) - 4642 wc - Crack, Fluff, 701+ Summary: Louis and Legosi have some unexpected bonding time over some episodes of Rick and Morty (i'm unironically proud of this tbh)

Leave Me On Read - cutiefemdom ❤ Teen - Complete - 3624 wc - Louis/Legosi, cute, texting fic Summary: Louis gets Legosi's number to keep an eye on him but instead slowly falls in love.

Like a Beast Hunting For Love - cutiefemdom ❤ Teen - Complete - 1811 wc - Soulmates, Alternate Universe Summary: Early in their lives, all animals wake up to a soulprint on their wrist. It's the shape of the animal's paw they are destined to be with. For herbivores who get a carnivore's print it's a death sentence.Louis doesn't think he's meant long for this world.

musk - mokarozu Teen - Complete - 1011 wc - Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha!Louis Summary:  “Louis, I want..” Legosi said breathily, his heat growing far too unbearable. He yearned to be filled, practically aching at this point in time. He gulped, before finally giving into his temptations as he admitted.“I want you, alpha..”

☆ Long Form / Chaptered Work Mostly Uncomplete or Active Updating

I’m In Love With a Dork - aekyuu General Audiences - Uncomplete - 9,700+ wc - University AU Summary: In a world where Legosi doesn't drop out of high school and actually graduates, Louis enters a well-known University with a prosthetic foot that attracts a lot of attention and fear from other animals. Legosi, feeling bad for what he'd done to Louis, and witnessing other animals "bullying" Louis, also enrolls into the same University to protect him at all costs.

Craving More Than You’re Given - doopstory ❤ Teen - Uncomplete - 74,000+ wc - Canon Divergent, 120 CH Summary: Friendship finally established, Legosi and Louis start to really get to know each other.

A Wolf with Little Heart - TheFancySquid ❤ Teen - Uncomplete - 41,000 wc - Alternative Universe, Dark!Legosi Summary: Legosi is a rude, obnoxious, and down right mean and negative person to everyone around him. But for what reason?

Repose Unto Terror - wurmz Teen - Uncomplete - 2,600+ wc - Canon Divergent, Louis cares fic Summary: It was the least he could do to maintain this state of purgatory, to fund this male's survival. Under any other circumstances, with the prohibitive cost of preservation, he was certain that Legosi wouldn't have been allowed to linger in limbo for so long. It was the least he could do, Louis repeated to himself, to use his wealth to fund the basic survival of a male who gave himself for the prospect of a new future.

wanted life enough to risk the open field - jurassicqueer Mature - Uncomplete - 6,200+ wc - Canon Divergent Summary: Legosi's chronic worrying keeps him up until long walks are the only way for him to sleep at night. One warm, humid evening, he stumbles upon the bloody mess left by Tem's attacker-- except Tem is still alive. This changes things.

Salut d’Amour - Doubtfuldeer ❤ Mature - Uncompleted - 13,000+ wc - AU Orchestra Summary: An AU in which Legosi is a violinist, and Louis is a pianist. All Legosi wants is to one day play a duet with Louis, but he ends up getting much more than he bargained for.

Over There - Big_Hairy_Stallion68 ❤ Mature - Uncomplete - 17,000+ wc - Cannon Divergent - 123CH, Slow burn Summary: What if the society of Beastars was only part of a larger world? What if there was an alternative, a different place to live in, a different society with different customs? What if Louis and Legosi had enough of the bullshit and just wanted a... regular life?

A Tale of Moon - Wuffin_Arts  ❤ Mature - Uncomplete - 8,000K+ wc - Louis/Legosi, Kid fic Summary: This story will focus on the life and drama of these two as they grow and learn more about themselves, and face the struggles of it all. Penumbra: Part 1 - Srugging_Altas103 Explicit - Uncomplete - 23,000+ wc - Cannon Divergent Summary: To be a gray wolf was a damning fate in Legosi's eyes. Despite his best efforts, he would always been seen for the predator he was. However, one fateful day led him to begin a less-than-wholesome relationship with Louis, challenging everything he had ever thought about himself. To be gay was a damning fate in Louis's eyes. Despite his best efforts, it continued to fester within him, threatening to destroy the future laid out for him without mercy. He needed to cope; any insecure straight guy would do.

El esclavo Luna y el amo Sol - Kmilarts (Language: Spanish) ❤ Explicit - Uncomplete - 23,000+ wc - Alternate Universe, Slaves, Top!Louis Summary: Raised as a slave to be treated as a free person, the slave Legosi became free with his master Louis. You will get more than just freedom, you will also have the love and family that someone of your caste should not have, but sometimes the world gives good things to people who deserve it.

Last night I dreamt that somebody loved me  - kastiyana Mature - Uncomplete - 27,000+ wc - Alternate Universe, Body Guard!Legosi Summary: Louis is a rich heir of the Horns Conglomerate, future CEO, future Beastar, his life seems all planned... until this exasperating wolf is hired as his bodyguard.

☆ NSFW

Guess You're Apart of Me Now - butterfingers69 ❤ Explicit - Complete - 4,239 wc - Trans!Louis fic Summary: Shortly after Legosi left the hospital after being shot Louis and him agree to meet up and talk. They soon realize that not only are they connected, but perhaps they don't mind.

The Wolf Trap - surveycorpsjean ❤ Explicit - Complete - 18,279 wc - Legosi/Louis, Action, adventure Summary: If you're going to play the game, you have to play it right.

tame - TrashKing (Vanya_Deyja) ❤❤ Explicit - Complete - 2561 wc - possessive legosi, shishigami louis Summary: Legosi is not leaving here without Louis.

Heat - TrashKing (Vanya_Deyja) Explicit - Complete - 2213 wc - Rut, Knotting Summary: Interspecies romance is taboo, politics is complicated, but this? This is simple.

Secret Lovers - Zeuspower6 Explicit - Complete - 2731 wc - Top Louis, secret relationship Summary: Louis and Legosi are in a secret relationship, but a few of the drama club members start to get suspicious.

Hurts So Good - cutiefemdom Explicit - Complete - 1637 wc - Dom Louis, Dirty Talk Summary: "Unruly puppies have to be taught to behave." Legosi doesn't realize that he's being too rough during sex so Louis decides he needs some disciplining.

Disgusting - TrashKing (Vanya_Deyja) ❤ Explicit - Complete - 2268 wc - Masturbation, Verbal Humiliation Summary: There's something very perverse about how Legosi sits with his predatory instincts all the while frantically denying them. Unfortunately for him Louis lives to make his life a hellscape.

Sweet Release - Skrap Explicit - Complete - 1050 wc - BDSM, CBT, Smut Summary: A story about Louis and Legosi's time in bed and Legosi's relatively new toy.

Release Your Inner Wolf - Nacht_Writer Explicit - Complete - 4698 wc - Smut, Knotting, Exhibitionism Summary: Legosi is the only one Louis' trusts to grant him his darkest desire: to be fucked and marked by a carnivore.

Smoke Under the Moonlight - omnic Explicit - Complete - 4515 wc - Dom/Sub, Bottom Louis Summary: Legosi visits Louis at his dorm during his early morning smoke.

i would go down on you for days - orphan_account Mature - Complete - 2009 wc - Pinning fic Summary: Legosi often dreams of Louis.

in love(with your existence) - sweetycat Explicit - Uncomplete - 1,685+ wc - Cannon Divergent 114 ch, Porn With Plot Summary: Louis The Red Deer can proudly state that he’s never been speechless. Surprised, sure. Shocked even. Yet, he inevitably has a retort to whatever is being communicated to him. He has resolve.It all goes to shit the day his canine friend confesses his herbivore fetish. (or, Louis has a different reaction to Legosi’s confession in chap. 114)

A Good Alpha - cutiefemdom Mature - Complete - 8442 wc - Alternate Universe, Alpha!Louis, Omega!Legosi Summary: When Louis had presented as an alpha it hadn't been a shock to anyone, despite the fact that he was a herbivore.What was shocking was his mate.

My Temple (In You I Feel Safe) - cutiefemdom Explicit - Complete - 2596 wc - Canon Divergent, Knotting Summary: Louis knows it's obvious to every beast within a ten foot radius that he is going to into heat. What's worse is that those beasts happen to be back-alley sellers who are all carnivores. In one word he is: fucked.

This Wolf Is Mine - cutiefemdom ❤ Explicit - Complete - 4198 wc - Canon Divergent, Possessive Behavior Summary: Just like how Legosi had a fetish for herbivores, Louis was coming to accept that he might feel the same way about carnivores.One carnivore in particular.

A Royal’s Scent - cutiefemdom Explicit - Complete - 21,776 wc - AU, Prince!Louis, Louis/Jack, Louis/Legosi Summary: Prince Louis had already had enough on his plate before a wolf was apprehended on the border of his territory, thank you very much. Too bad his lessons never taught him about the intricacies of the wolf mating cycle. Dorime (Series) | Hail Mary | Full of Grace - frymyrisole Explicit - Complete - 20,416 wc - AU, Priest!Legosi, Mob Boss!Louis Summary: The day he came, Legosi's life turned upside down like the pancake his mom used to make every Sunday morning. The old doors of the church swung wide open with a resounding creak. A male red deer walked in an untouchable air to him. He was dressed to impress with an all-black three-piece suit. His shirt, his pants, his fancy little vest, all fitting tightly on his body. He even had a black jacket draped over his shoulder, the fabric trailing behind him like a cape.

Mío - Dakuraita (Language: Spanish) ❤ Explicit - Complete - 3,293 wc - Alternate Universe, Top Louis Summary: In a Universe where Louis is the boss of the mafia, Legoshi is his back guard ... however despite all he has lived through, the wolf has not let the rabbit of his heart go; Louis, on the other hand, is now only interested in the wolf and the dynamics they have developed over time. It is unforgivable that Legoshi is not his. It's yours, only yours.

MISC SHIPS / GENERAL B★ FIC

☆ Fluff / Angst / Non Explicit

I’m Simply Pina -  TheFancySquid ❤ Teen - Complete - 973 wc - Trans!Pina Fic Summary: Legosi stopped suddenly. He sniffed the air. There it was again, that familiar scent of a female. Legosi looked down at the club members below. He scanned over all the members, trying to isolate the source of the scent. His eyes finally fell on the far too familiar dall sheep, Pina.

Meanwhile at Cherryton - Sunset_Rider Teen - Uncomplete -  4016 wc - Jack Centric, 701, General  Summary: Jack is awake late at night thinking about the past and the desicions he has made.

do we realise that we’ve already closed our eyes - aiineslin* ❤ Mature - Complete - 1631 wc - Louis/Ibuki, sad, angst fic Summary: he has always followed where life took him, unflinching and unresisting.

pavo christatus - SatyrSyd37 ❤ Teen - Complete - 2839 wc- Dom/Kai, Canon Compliant Summary: Kai’s a mongoose. Dom’s a peafowl. It’s no wonder Kai’s drawn to him…he just wants to eat him. Right?

☆ NSFW

Bill Sneezes in Kai's Face While Attempting to Film Himself Shotgunning a Vape Cloud into His Mouth - BeAggressive ❤ Mature - Complete - 1988 wc - Bill/Kai Summary: Bill thinks it's funny, at least.

Gaffer Bias - BeAggressive ❤❤ Mature - Uncomplete - 8329+ wc - Bill/Kai Summary: The first night of Bill's first show as head of the drama club went great. Bill has a horrible idea that will probably ruin night two.

Jack x Juno - Haw ❤ Mature - Uncomplete - 4,700+ wc - Juno/Jack, Literally the cutest fic Summary: Juno is a heartbroken mess. Jack is still lonely. When their fates collide will that be fixed?

Fading Anger -  Haw  Mature - Uncomplete - 3,800+ wc - Kai/Sheila Summary: Kai is a little shit and is love with a beautiful Leopard.

Cornered in the Bathroom Stall - TheFancySquid ❤ Mature - Complete - 2,309 wc - Riz/Pina, dubcon, smut Summary: Pina is cornered in the bathroom by Riz the brown bear.

Miguno & Durham - AleksWulfe, legosiwithagun Mature - Complete - 975 wc - Mild Smut Summary: "We're going to fuck, of course. During lunch you said if you died 15 times on the final boss I’d get to fuck you," Miguno responded. 

HONORABLE MENTIONS

☆ (aka, currently reading / popular in fandom)

We're Only Animals: Book 1 - doopstory, NilesTheWhiteTailedDeerQueer Mature - Complete - 307,678 wc - Alternate Universe, Louis/Legosi Summary: This is an alternate universe where instead of attacking Haru in the beginning, Legosi attacks Louis, drastically altering the events of Beastars. Pining, danger, love, loss, it's all here. Can Legosi figure out his purpose in life and will Louis be able to come terms with his true feelings about becoming the Beastar? And can they figure out their true feelings for each other in a world where their love is forbidden?

St. Cherryton Hospital - http_petrichor General - Uncomplete - 13,000+ wc - Hospital/Good Doctor AU Summary: Carnivores can't be surgeons. Everybody knows that. What if they go haywire and eat organs from donors, or just ravish the patient while in operation? Legosi has known this all his life, too. But he could still dream of being one.Then, one day, he saves a boy's life. Then, he finds himself as a surgical resident at St. Cherryton Hospital. The first carnivore to ever become a surgical resident. How will society react?

A Vigourous Haws - Hartatak  Mature - Complete (?) - 2461 wc - Crack, Discord Vigs/Haw, #FanficitionStars Summary: Wasting no more time, he hastily rose up on his two feet with the help from the bed that had supported his resting body, only to realize a few new shocking facts. “Why am I naked? And why is my body is covered with ... fur?”

READING LIST (Not Yet Categorized)

Selfish - doopstory - Complete - Louis/Legosi Quite the Twist - MadAcries - Uncomplete - Louis/Legosi, Gosha/Gouhin Bare Back Black Alley Boys - Mico_Kun - Uncomplete - Louis/Legosi The New Waiter at Cherryton - peachie_teaa - Uncomplete - Louis/Legosi

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ 

Q: Hi, I don’t see my fic on here? A: I haven’t read it! Send it to me.  twitter: @vote_dogs | discord: @DogVote ask box

Once I’ve read a fic, it will be placed on this rec list. The categories will grow or change based on how fic transforms in the BEASTARS fandom so expect this rec list to look different all the time! New languages will be added, or translated to english, I google translated a spanish BEASTAR fic and it was beautiful (You will see it on here). I’m so excited to read more fic! BEASTARS is a gorgeous and complex and inspirational manga series; these stories only add multitudes of theory and dynamics. That means YOU need to write fic. DM me here or on Discord your link. Spread work, say hi: #Fanficitionstars. Ask me to proofread/beta a fic? dogvote123@gmail.com

[stovetuna]

Imagine Steve/Avengers walking in to Tony entertaining two soldiers in the common room and being really confused because Tony??? Despises the military??? But then find out that those two soldiers are actually from the “fun-vee” way back in IM 1 and Tony’s fitting them with prosthetics.

ahhh this has been stuck in my head for DAYS anon! I don’t necessarily agree with the assessment that Tony hates the military, per se (doing business with the military and the military industrial complex, however, and all that that toxic shit entails, definitely yes), BUT it’s such a heartbreaking/warming concept I had to run with it! I think I got it right with Air Force vs Army, but the movie was kinda vague—I’m going off of the fact that the driver said “I’m an airman,” which you would not say if you were in the Army.

and since the airmen (and woman) Tony was traveling with in the Fun-Vee are canonically deceased, I thought I’d have Tony do something…well, Extremely Tony™ to compensate…

(::whispers:: also we’re just gonna pretend that the Bucky-killed-Tony’s-parents-revelations of Cap 2/3 aren’t a thing in this vaguely alternate MCU universe. la-di-da, la-di-da…)

***

It’s not surprising to walk into the Avengers common area and see Tony Stark working on something no one can quite comprehend. That’s par for the course, really, as commonplace as days that end in Y. Machines, phones, tablets, watches, the toaster after Hulk pressed the cancel button a little too hard—they’ve seen Tony futzing with just about everything that exists in the Tower (and some things that don’t—couldn’t—exist anywhere else except where Tony is). 

What the team isn’t expecting when the elevator doors open onto the communal floor that sunny Tuesday afternoon is a living room scattered with men and women in various states of modest undress, all of whom immediately pivot in place to take stock of the new arrivals. Three men, one woman, and in the middle of their protective circle is Tony, eyes blazing with the same thrill of invention he often gets in the lab, a pair of needle-nose pliers clenched in his teeth.

Steve in particular notices the way Tony looks, because he’s developed a bad habit of doing that over the past year and change, and he’s kind of helpless at this point. Tony’s backlit by the afternoon sun, preoccupied with whatever he’s doing with the strange woman’s arm to distraction, and Steve can’t be judged too harshly—anyone with eyes would drag theirs over the exposed muscles of Tony’s arms, the shift and flex of his shoulders, the firm taper of his waist, the pronounced curve of his a—

“Are we, uh, interrupting something?” Clint has to shout to be heard above the music blasting from all corners of the room. 

Tony looks up from his work and waves his free hand, the one that isn’t wrist-deep in what looks remarkably like a prosthetic arm. He makes a ‘cut it off’ motion to his neck before taking the pliers out of his mouth while FRIDAY lowers the rock music to a dull background hum. 

“Hey! Sorry, I tried to keep it to the lab, but these guys wanted to see where the Avengers hang out, and I couldn’t say no.” 

Steve tears his eyes away from Tony (who should really work the sweaty-and-disheveled-mechanic look more often) to take in the others in the room with him. It’s a panorama of people, and the first thing Steve notices, besides their more obvious differences, is how comfortable they all are with each other, to the point that walking in on this moment feels invasive, almost rude. 

The four are all of remarkably different builds and backgrounds, not a similarity between them: an African American man, no taller than Steve was before the serum, sits on the couch; a white man, thin as a rake and twice as tall, is reaching for a glass of water on the coffee table; an Asian American man, whose shoulders are somehow even broader than Steve’s, stands rigidly next to Tony, arms folded across his chest; and the lone woman, whose glossy black hair is wound tightly in a bun at the back of her head. Steve notes the beautifully elaborate Native American tattoo covering the expanse of her shoulders and upper back. 

Then Steve notices the high-and-tights, the form-fitting, drab beige shirts they’re all wearing, the combat boots lined up behind the loveseat, and he realizes, much like he did with Sam that morning in DC, oh—these are my people.

“Ah, well, welcome to the octagon!” Clint says with an easy smile, stepping forward to shake hands and say hello like a normal human being. Natasha gives Steve one of her looks before she and Sam follow him into the living room—I don’t know any more than you do.

Bruce, Wanda, and Vision stay behind with Steve to let the first wave through. Steve watches his teammates greet the airmen without fanfare, welcoming strangers into their private midst like it’s routine. 

“Didn’t know y’all would be around, else we would’ve stayed outta sight.” 

Sam laughs, clapping the sitting man on the shoulder. “Dude, if Tony told us you were here, I would have come downstairs and bugged you, myself.” 

“Sure, PJ—you just wanted to see what real Air Force muscle looks like,” the man grins, flexing his barrel chest hard enough to strain his shirt. Sam guffaws and gives him a friendly punch to the shoulder, which the man returns in kind with a fist to the kidney. 

Clint is already deep in conversation with the redheaded beanpole, who talks so fast it’s dizzying; Natasha is standing next to the third man, keeping her eyes forward, and together they watch Tony disappear back into his work, muttering things back and forth to each other, so quiet even Steve can’t hear. 

“I think all is clear,” Vision says smoothly, drifting forward with Wanda, who is visibly fascinated by the woman’s tattoo until she steps into the throng and sees something that makes her face fall. 

Steve moves forward, curious and worried in equal measure. Bruce is hot on his heels. 

“—I mean it’s crazy right? It’s crazy, Tony Stark, Tony Stark calls us up out of the blue one day and says ‘You’ll be waiting six months to a year for a decent repair job, let alone a complete replacement, and I owe you guys, come on by Avengers Tower—”

Redhead is gabbing excitedly, gesticulating like Tony does when he’s in the mad depths of an invention binge. Steve sees the glint of metal and hears the whir of mechanisms working smoothly together in tandem and realizes both of the man’s hands are prosthetic. 

“Oh man! Oh, man! Captain, sir, wow, it’s—fuck, shit, my mama would kill me for swearing in front of you, fucking—shit, sorry, fuck—ah, damn it!”

Steve smiles and introduces himself—Corporal Bill Levee, apparently, is just as talkative up close. For all that his hand is made of metal, his grip feels remarkably, tangibly real. 

While Bill goes back to talking compound bows with Hawkeye, Steve looks at the man on the couch. Sam and Vision are now sitting on either side of him: both of his legs end at mid-thigh, and in their place are what look like brand-new metal limbs, designed to match his proportions exactly. The metal is dark, shiny, beautiful. He looks thrilled. He looks even more excited when Steve approaches, leaps to his feet and doesn’t even balk at the fact that Steve is a head and change taller than him and a superhero—he just steps right up to Steve and jabs him once in the shoulder with a grin. 

“Captain Rogers,” he says, and sticks out his hand. Steve shakes it. The man points a thumb at himself: “Captain Freddy Harrison. A little after your time, sir, but an honor to meet you regardless.”

Bill is still talking a mile a minute behind him; Freddy sits back down on the couch and lets Steve continue his “Captain America Meet-and-Greet” but makes him promise to come back and swap stories, which Steve does, happily, even as his mind whirls. How does Tony know these people? Why are they here? Where did these prosthetics come from? 

Bruce has joined Natasha, standing apart from the rest to talk to her and her new friend. Steve stops to say hello, as is only right, waiting until he’s entered the man’s line of sight to do so. Only then does he realize that the man has no line of sight, because both of his eyes are prosthetic. 

“I’m not completely blind, Captain,” he says, voice low but good-humored. Next to him, Natasha smothers a smile behind her hand. 

“Steve, this is Sergeant Daniel Kwon,” Bruce offers. The sergeant smirks and extends a hand—the eyes in his sockets look incredibly lifelike, but don’t move even a fraction of a millimeter. They gleam, still, with an uncanny sense of knowing. Steve has a sneaking suspicion they see more than enough and match his original eyes perfectly. 

“I’ll still make an exception in your case, Sergeant Kwon,” Steve replies, shaking his hand, “for not saluting a ranking officer.”

Dan chuckles under his breath.

“Let’s see your battlefield commission and then we’ll talk rank, sir,” he says. 

“Ugh, men.”

Steve turns around, and there’s Tony, flipping shut a panel high on the woman’s left arm with a smile. He pockets the pliers and drags the back of his forearm across his glistening forehead. Somewhere in the back of Steve’s mind, a saxophone is blaring. 

Honestly, the intrusive thoughts he could deal with, but the fact that Tony looks this good after hours of hard labor really isn’t fair. 

“Seriously, barely two minutes in and you military guys are at it like frat bros at a kegger.” Tony looks sidelong at the woman, who rolls her shoulders with a pop and a groan. “How do you manage?” 

“Easy,” she says, “I let them drink until they pass out and then I run back to the women’s barracks with all their clothes so they have to walk across the TOC butt-naked.”  

“I think we need to compare our respective strategies,” Natasha says, taking Wanda’s arm on her way to greet the other woman. “This is Wanda; I’m Natasha.”

The woman turns to face them. Her features are striking in a way that makes Steve think of old friends from the war, men he met on those rare occasions he had leave. He’d listen to Native American Code Talkers tell stories of land and legacy and home, stories older than anything Steve had ever known. He’d never been so humbled. 

“Delores,” she replies, shaking their hands. “But please, call me Del, or I’ll never hear the end of it.”

Steve looks at Tony, who giggles—giggles—and mouths ‘Umbridge.’ Del must have ears like a bat, because she smacks him smartly with her prosthetic arm and Tony yelps before devolving into outright laughter. Steve could watch and listen to Tony laugh—that big, gut-wrenching cackle Tony thinks is unattractive but Steve thinks makes Tony look like happiness personified—all day. 

The conversation devolves quickly from there, and within a couple of excitable minutes, the airmen are eager to get a look at the Avengers’ game room. They pile into the elevator, talking animatedly over each others’ heads, placing bets and picking teams as the doors close. 

In their wake, Steve’s ears are buzzing, and he realizes with a jolt that he’s now alone. With Tony. 

It happens often enough that the fact itself isn’t jarring, but something about being alone with disheveled-frazzled-happy-sweaty Tony sets Steve’s nerves on high alert. Tony is loose-limbed and relaxed, moving in and out of Steve’s space as he picks his way around the living room barefoot, looking for discarded tools. 

“There you are,” he coos at a tiny device that looks remarkably like a laser pointer. Knowing Tony, it’s probably a real laser. He pockets it, assumably to put away later (or fish out of the laundry at the last minute). 

“Who are those people, Tony?” 

“Friends of friends,” Tony replies. Steve also knows Tony well enough to recognize his I am being deliberately vague voice when he hears it. 

“Uh-huh.” Steve sits on the arm of the sofa, legs stretched out in front of him. “And who are they really?” 

“Who wants to know?”

“Me,” Steve says gently, scratching his palms with dulled fingernails. “They’re strangers, and they’re in our home. I think if you were in my shoes you’d want to know.” 

Tony stoops to pick up and pocket what looks like a dissected nine-volt battery. Steve kind of wants to ask, but he’s too distracted by Tony’s ass in those black Levis to ask any cogent questions. Seriously, he wonders, are those painted on?

Only when Tony sighs, and quite heavily, that Steve realizes this was more than just a friendly house call (of sorts) on Tony’s part. He watches Tony stand up, facing the floor-to-ceiling windows bright with the glow of sunset, and admires the way Tony suits the view so perfectly. He looks good all the time, but like this—skin burnished gold, brown eyes honeyed by the light—he’s something else. Someone Steve wants, desperately, but like most things in his life, knows he’s not allowed to have. Tony Stark is beyond him in so many ways. Reaching for him seems futile, so Steve stays on the ground, and looks. 

Tony fidgets nervously with a mini Phillips Head screwdriver, twiddling it in his long, clever fingers as he stares out the windows at the city sprawled out beneath them. 

“They’re from the same company as the guys in the convoy I was with when I—when they—” his voice sputters out before he can say the words. Steve doesn’t push. He doesn’t say anything. He just waits for Tony to gather himself. It’s one of the hardest lessons he’s had to learn about Tony Stark—sometimes it’s better to let him get a handle on himself, rather than jump in and try to handle Tony for him. It doesn’t change the fact that Steve wants nothing more than to hold his hand, now that it’s hanging at his side like its string was just cut. “A while back I dug into Air Force records, talked to Rhodey, got some names. Five people died in the hit that was meant for me. I figured, the least I could do was find five of their closest buddies who needed help.” 

Tony glances back at Steve—the little smile on his lips could break Steve’s heart if he let it.

“And I’ve heard you talk about how convoluted the VA is when it comes to services and benefits and whatnot. I figured, my tech probably took their limbs, I should cut out the middle man and give them new ones, myself.” 

Something in Steve’s heart shifts irrevocably before kicking into a whole new gear. By the end of the sentence, Steve knows he’s going to do something incredibly rash, the only question is when. 

Funny—ten minutes ago he was coming back from a team exercise, prepared to give Tony a friendly but firm talking-to about missing it, and instead here he is, breathless, heart racing, sitting and listening to Tony talk humbly about fixing people because he knows it’s the right thing to do. Because it’s the least he can do. And isn’t that the wildest understatement Steve’s ever heard? 

As if anything about Tony Stark could ever possibly be least. 

“You built them all those prosthetics?” 

“Top of the line!” Tony smirks, saluting Steve with his Phillips Head. “Nothing more high tech in any of them than a heart rate monitor and some other odds and ends—no rocket launcher eyes, don’t worry. I kept my baser urges in check with these.” 

“It’s good,” Steve blurts out, too loud and too fast. Tony inhales sharply, fingers clenching around the screwdriver hard enough his knuckles go white. Steve feels his face go hot and groans. “I mean, what you did—what you’re doing—is good, Tony. It’s really generous of you to do that for those guys.” 

Steve crosses his arms across his chest to make himself feel safer, more contained. If he doesn’t, who knows where these ridiculous feelings might go. He feels silly enough as it is, blushing and stammering while dressed in his uniform, sans helmet. Even Tony’s probably wondering why he’s wasting his time talking to a red-white-and-blue fossil when he could be downstairs destroying Clint and the others at pool or showing the airmen around the tower, giving them the bells-and-whistles tour. 

Tony looks at the floor, away from Steve. Steve feels it like a physical thing, Tony pulling away, retreating, wanting to hide. Amazing, how a man who almost literally wears his heart on his sleeve still thinks he doesn’t have one. 

“Yeah, well,” Tony mutters, “it’s good practice, anyways.” 

Steve’s thoughts grind to a halt. 

“Practice for what?” 

Tony starts moving around, shuffling back and forth across the living room floor, looking for something that probably isn’t there. Steve knows when Tony is avoiding eye contact with him—it happens often enough. 

“Just a pet project, nothing major. Hey, have you seen my cable knife anywhere?” 

“Did you leave it on the floor? Tony…”

“I know, I know, the only thing worse is Legos, but I was busy! You can’t blame me for—OW FUCK!” 

Like a shot, Steve is up and holding on to Tony so he doesn’t hop backwards into the glass coffee table. One arm wrapped around his back and the other hand on his bicep, Steve steadies Tony as Tony searches underfoot for whatever hurt him. 

He comes up with a magnet the size of a dime. 

“Ha,” Tony wheezes. “Speaking of Legos.” He drops it into his pocket along with the laser pointer and whatever else is in there and hangs his head. Rubbing his brow, Tony says: “God. I could sleep for a week after today.” 

Steve keeps holding Tony. He should let go, but opportunities like this so rarely present themselves. Plus, Tony feels so good under his hands, strong and warm and just small enough to envelope in a hug if Steve let himself, if Tony wanted him to, and Tony does look dead on his (adorable, bare) feet…

“What else have you been working on today? This pet project?” 

“Hah?” Tony breathes, still wincing slightly from stepping on the magnet. “Oh yeah. For Bucky, when you find him. Ow, motherfucker, that hurt…”

The thing about being in Tony Stark’s presence is, it’s so easy to lose the plot. Tony’s mind moves faster than Steve could ever hope to match, mentally or physically; he’s always one pace behind, catching up. It’s fine, though; he actually kind of likes it, being challenged the way Tony challenges him, delighting in the push-pull of their banter and debates, the way Tony teaches him about science and tech and the 21st century without being condescending. Steve gets to a point where he thinks he knows Tony, how he operates, how his brain works—then moments like this happen, and it’s like he’s sprinted smack into a brick wall. 

“What?” 

“What?” 

“Bucky, you said—are you designing a new arm? For Bucky?” 

Tony seems to notice their position at that exact moment. Steve feels him blaze with heat where his hands are touching Tony’s bare skin. 

“Uh. Maybe?” At Steve’s look, Tony bites his lip and sighs. “Fine. Yeah, I am. Can you blame me? The thought of Sputnik wandering around the tower with that Cold War-era paperweight hanging off him when I’ve got brand-spanking-new, finely-tuned StarkTech all but ready to go? Perish, Steve, perish the thought.”

Tony is smiling up at him from his place in Steve’s arms, relaxed now, almost leaning into him, and all Steve can think is, he belongs here. 

“What’s that face?” Tony asks, curious but still smiling. He pokes Steve in the middle of the forehead with a cheeky grin. “Keep frowning like that, your face’ll stick.”

When, apparently, is right now. 

When Steve reaches up and takes Tony’s hand, he gets to watch Tony’s thoughts run into the wall, for once. 

When he weaves their fingers together, he gets to watch Tony’s mouth click shut and his eyes go wide. Super-hearing means he can count the beats of Tony’s racing heart without having to feel them. Steve’s telegraphing every movement, every feeling, as much as he possibly can now that words seem to have escaped him. 

He must manage okay, because the look that passes over Tony’s face is the same one Steve’s seen in the mirror a thousand times since the day he realized he was halfway in love with Tony Stark: wonder, one part lost, one part found. 

When he leans down, slowly, Steve gets to watch Tony’s beautiful eyes flicker and shut. He counts the dark lashes where they rest on Tony’s high cheekbones, breathes in his smell and listens to the shudder in his exhale before drawing him in for a kiss that draws everything else to a quiet, blissful blank.

When Tony pushes his fingers up into Steve’s hair, scratching lightly at the nape of his neck, Steve drops his arms around Tony’s waist and pulls him in close with a soft groan. He’s warm and messy and still holding that damn screwdriver, but he kisses Steve soft and eager like it’s the only thing he wants to do for the rest of his life, folds himself into Steve’s embrace like he wants to build a home right there in his arms. 

One day Steve will tell him he already did, a long time ago, and it wasn’t the least of anything. 

*** 

more fics on AO3!

[mythicaldemigoddess-of-deltarune]

Credit for Invader Zim goes to Jhonen Vasquez

Credit for Powerpuff Girls goes to Craig McCracken

--------------

I’m gonna wait a bit more, to talk about some feelings regarding PPG.

which has to do with some Positive and Negatives that has to do with the Fandom.

anyway I got this ship that pop into my head, had to draw a ship drawing of it....if they get married, that would make Dib and Gaz the new Big Siblings of Blossom, Bubbles and Buttercup.

the chances of this ship getting more shippers is perhaps well, maybe small......I don’t know how many will like this ship.

also ever since finding out about Resident Evil Character

Lady Dimitrescu, I have seen or heard the word “Simp”

what does that mean anyway....?

she is a very tall lady, in theory I believe she could be a bit more taller than Slenderman himself.

speaking of height, I’m starting to think I’m not 5′5″ at all...

I mean once I thought I was 5′6″ but turns out I’m not.

so I asked my pendulum, asked it if I was 5′5″

it circled slow for No, asked if I am taller than 5′5″

still gives me a No.

asked if I’m 5′3″ and it gave a Yes.

even if it could explain how I notice how my shadow is,

it just seems so small even when I stand close to it, and check the height between myself and the shadow are about the same.

at least my shoes make me a bit taller.

  I guess my pendulum could be telling me the truth

about me being 5′3″......but it could be one of it’s pranks.

I’m listening to Addict right now,

the song was created by a fan called Silva Hound,

the song then ended up having it’s own official Hazbin Hotel Music Video.

 you can find the song on both Silva Hound’s channel,

as well as it’s Music Video over at Vivziepop’s channel.

and I DON’T mean the one that is called “Vivziepop Club.”

I’m still not pleased with that “club channel.”

I’m just gonna try to keep a eye out for the real episode 4

of Helluva Boss.

was playing the AU of AU FNAF game called

Five Nights of Flirting, finally got a Good Ending in them.

well the Romance ones, even if one of the characters didn’t really say they were but kind of implied it,

it is nice that they made them Ace.

well I’m Aceflux, well technically Aroaceflux.

I still find romance interesting and well do some shipping.

plus it is still possible for those who are Ace to get crushes

or fall in love, plus there are different forms of romance

that doesn’t always have to be well the intense version.

like a tender kiss on the forehead or on the cheek.

just hanging out and watching shows or movies

or reading comics or playing video games you love.

 anyway I had successfully got the Romance Endings

with Jeremy and Fritz. (in two different timelines, not at the same time.)

just need to try to get the others, and maybe I will get to a True Ending.

Purple Guy is perhaps gonna be difficult for me.

or as he is known as Vincent.

I like to think of him as the Canon Purpleman’s Son,

like the one who was always bullied by his older brother.

 I’m keeping the name I’m using, if I change it

it is most likely my progress from the Jeremy & Fritz’s timelines

will be lost. 

well the name I’m using is well, it is spelled a bit differently.

but I decided to go with “Alice”

but I decided to spell it with a “y” instead of a “i”

that alternate way of spelling Alice is interesting,

plus they both will still sound the same.

if I have another Save, that is separate from that one.

I could always try to go with the default name “Doll”

I kind of want to think of the three versions of Doll,

being siblings, a Sister, Brother and Sibling.

it be nice if Undertale had such a option.

like you could pick to be either Female or Male

or Non-Binary/Genderfluid.

those are the three picks for Five Nights of Flirting.

 well when we do play Undertale,

whatever the Bio-Sex/Gender of the Player,

it can be projected upon Frisk.

so when I play Frisk and well control them throughout the game.

I can see them as Gyno-Agender.

it isn’t like “Agender” where it is just Non-Binary.

it is a Bigender Identity, being both Binary & Non-Binary.

think of it as being a fusion, think of the song Stronger Than You.

the original from Steven Universe, but the Undertale Parody is still awesome too.

I decided to make a new tumblr avatar,

that shows both my sexuality & gender identity.

the colors I picked is suppose to be for my Aroaceflux Identity,

while inside the heart will be for my gender identity.

so it is suppose to be a Sexuality/Gender Identity type avatar flag.

also I’m gonna try to look up the whole Simp, maybe look it up later and finally figure out what it means.

cause I have No clue.

also I want to say that, it can be possible for even someone who is Ace or Aceflux, to be a empath to “pheromones”.....

even if some might think that can’t be true, I believe it is.

the best thing to keep me from picking up THOSE kinds of energies from family or others that live where I live,

is to keep wearing my bracelets that has Black Obsidian and Selenite Agate.

I started getting gems, to help me.

I even keep them under my pillow.

 I even sleep with my bracelets on too, but only take them off

when I have to take a shower or bath.

but after that, I will put them back on...

it be nice if hospitals had two types of doctors,

ones that treats well the seizures that actually needs medicine in the form of pills.

and the other giving advice to just move to a place with less negative

energy from both human and supernatural.        

not all seizures will be the type that needs pills.

but try telling doctors that, hey if someone goes through withdrawal

don’t just put them back on the pill thinking they need it.

they NEVER needed them in the first place, they needed to get away from the town because it is that place that was causing the dang seizures in the first place.

I....went through withdrawal before, even if now I believe I never truly needed them, just needed to move far enough away from the negative energy......

I think it is possible, when I thought I was being touched

but no one was touching me....I think it might of been something else that I couldn’t see that was perhaps, really touching me.

like you being touched on your arm or back.

I wish doctors didn’t misdiagnose so much.

not all seizures are gonna be the same, and some spiritual doctors would be nice to see too.

I can’t help but be, concerned about staying in a room too long

if I start to pick up certain energies...

plus I’m gonna try to take a break from using my pendulum,

so gonna try not to use it too much.

but only use it once in a while.

also if it is possible that those from a distant future

are messing with timelines,

and that is why I remember a story I was told before

that has to do with someone in my family....

then well I can only hope the ones messing with timelines,

will stay in their own timeline, and stop breaking reality.

timelines can become more fragile the more you try to tamper with it.

plus it is possible those who try to tamper with it,

will get karma, so it is best for them to stop before the karma becomes really REALLY bad.

even if you do try to correct the changes that were made,

that would most likely cause problems too, but you should only fix it

if it truly 100% needs to be corrected back to how it was

before some human messed with it.

if that is true, that would be on my list.

I’m Semi-Misanthrope, I still like humanity but there are ugly parts of it that makes me disappointed.

so there are still good, even if there are the bad mixed in there too. 

Starlight Glimmer did the same thing, but what if she wasn’t the first?

what if Sunset was the original element of Harmony,

but Celestia changed the Pony version of her friends memories.

 but in theory, if Starlight made one more change in history

it would of most likely cause a break of all reality.

I think those timelines that were created, still exist

but are now Alternate Universes, still having existence.

but not being part of the Main Timeline.

or the Beta Main Timeline, while the Alpha Main Timeline

is the one where Sunset came from I think.

 I still love SVTFOE and MLPFIM,

but I just don’t like how they seem to blame the scapegoats

for what Discord, Moon Butterfly and Mina Loveberry started.

even if some fans aren’t fans of Steven Universe Future

(and that’s okay, not everyone has to like it.)

at least that show didn’t pull the same Broken Moral Compass.

the endings of those two shows were awesome,

like Luster Dawn seems like a really interesting and awesome character.

and the whole dimensions in SVTFOE, merging is awesome.

also I’m starting to wonder if Glossryck really did die

or if no longer being bond to SVTFOE’s Realm of Magic,

left him free to explore the Multiverse.

after noticing in the magic book of spells,

that had Glossryck’s to do list.

I believe in theory he is secretly alive,

even if it is off screen, and fans might need to figure it out.

 I also believe it wasn’t Toffee who corrupted Star’s Wand or the Realm of Magic, that was Star.

it is possible the Dark Magic was always in The Butterfly Family.

well Negative Emotion Magic.

Toffee was never in the wands, he was just speaking through from where he was in the Realm of Magic.

I can’t be the only one who is noticing the habit

where Heroes kind of pull a Anti-Hero move

and don’t even bother to punish the ones who started the problem in the first place.

once more I still love those shows,

I just am not a fan of the Broken Moral Compasses moments,

like Star deciding to place the blame on Magic for her problems,

but it isn’t magic that was to blame, it was her family misusing it.

or the whole Cozy, Chrysalis and Tirek being turned into a statue.

I’m not sure if Discord even got punished for bringing those three together or for everything else he’s done that leads up to it.            

 I wonder if it’s weird to kind of start to see

Blossom, Bubbles and Buttercup

as Cozy, Chrysalis and Tirek’s Reincarnations.

like Buttercup being Chrysalis’s Reborn Self,

Blossom being Tirek’s Reborn Self

and lastly Bubbles being Cozy Glow Reborn Self.

of course that would be Fanon, and not canon.

anyway, once again this ship of Utonium x Membrane

might not get many shippers.

but I think that’s okay, I mean not everyone has to like this ship.

 and if my pendulum keeps giving me a Yes

about being 5′3″, I guess I will have to believe it.

but I would need to gather more proof.

I will believe it’s Yes answer about having Multiracial heritage.

but I’m not gonna try to date HUMANS.

not unless they aren’t some stuck up racist shisno.

once again, I’m Semi-Misanthrope, even if I still like humanity,

the disgusting part of it just really disgusts me, and the whole racism thing is only part of it.

plus thanks to my pendulum, I now believe that Jesus

was indeed Black.

and all through out history it had been censored.

once again even though I am a Ma-Acolyte, I can still believe in Jesus too....but now I believe he was in fact Black.

my pendulum gave me a Yes, when I asked if Jesus’s Mother was White, and a Yes for Jesus being Black.

 but you can’t try to force people to accept that, it is best to let them accept it by their own free will.

like I mention many times before, I do NOT like forced converting.

 even if my pendulum gave a Yes

when I asked if Jesus had a interracial heritage that he had inherited from his mother Mary (Not from Joseph.)

not many people will support that, but there will still be some that will support it and believe it is true.

plus I don’t know if I should tell my family about it,

I mean I did finally talk about the whole Asexuality...

but I know there was some form of misinterpreting.

even if some who are Ace are Gay, some will be either Bi, Pan or Hetero or even Omni.

Omni can have different forms of attraction.

but I want to try to wait a while to correct my family for misunderstanding Ace, I still love my family

but I know they can misunderstand things

worse than me at times, I think. 

  I think I should take it one step at a time,

when I’m ready I will correct them about their misunderstanding of Asexuality, as well as the whole needing to tell them that there has been lies told about a distant cousin.

I’m glad I never came out as Aroaceflux,

because if I did, I would most likely get the whole

passive aggressive treatment.

which means your family still loves you, they just can’t accept ya being that way......and it might be possible it could take most families time to fully accept.

plus the passive aggressive, is less bad, it is still bad,

but it wouldn’t be as bad as the aggressive.

it is the aggressive without the passive part. 

I will try to sign back on later, so I can check on some stuff on here.

but before I sign out, I’m gonna change my avatar.

then I’m going to “Wing-Town”

I asked my pendulum, and it seems my energy wings are hugging around me right now, so I will assume I’m already in Wing-Town.

it’s like Sweater-Town, but with Earth Angel Energy Wings instead.

plus I can’t see them, but I should make sure to not go out if there are those around who can see them.

not that I can go out right now anyway.

anyway I’m just gonna hurry up and change my avatar

then I will go lay down in bed while being in Wing-Town.

then later after I finish laying down in bed

(which it is likely I might fall asleep.)

I will go and eat some good.

hope some of you like this drawing of Membrane & Utonium.

so see ya later, stay safe and remember that there many types of ships, and not all of them are romance.

 go here to learn that there is more types of “ships”

  https://shipping.fandom.com/wiki/Shipping_Wiki

just go to the part that says Shipping.

I believe that because people might misinterpret.

for Friendships, it is best to use “I Bud It”

and for Found Families, it is best to use “I Fam It.”

not using “I ship it” keeps from any misunderstandings.

maybe after I take a nap I will watch Kids Next Door,

and maybe even Invader Zim too, as well as some other Cartoon shows

and maybe even a few movies too.

I’m a bit tired, so I’m gonna hurry up and change my tumblr avatar

and then go lay down for maybe a hour or a few.

PS:

maybe this ship will get a lot of fan art, or not...I’m not really sure.

once again see ya later and stay safe....

[hysterialevi]

Eitr | Chapter 7

Fanfic summary: In an alternate universe where the Raven Clan is wiped out, Sigurd ends up being rescued by the son of a Saxon ealdorman, and is tasked with being the boy’s new bodyguard. Upon meeting the boy’s father however, Sigurd soon realizes that the ealdorman is responsible for his clan’s destruction, and secretly plans for revenge while hiding behind the guise of a Norse pagan turned Christian.

Point of view: third-person

Pairing: Sigurd Styrbjornson x Male OC

This story is also on AO3 | Previous chapter | Next chapter

THE NEXT MORNING

SIGURD’S CHAMBERS

Sitting quietly on the edge of his bed, Sigurd stared bleakly out through the tall window in front of him as he watched people gather at the main gate and huddle together in the cold, waiting for the arrival of their beloved Thegn.

At the moment, he was fidgeting with a simple dagger in his hands and twirling the sharp blade between his fingers, silently contemplating to himself about what to do next.

He was already suited up in his armor and ready to join the siblings down at the front of the castle, but despite the urgency of the day’s agenda, Sigurd found himself completely devoid of any motivation.

He just... didn’t know what the point of this was anymore. Why was he still fighting? Why was he bothering trying to survive? Even if he somehow managed to make it through this storm that was now headed his way, Sigurd failed to see what he would gain from struggling against its binds.

Eivor was dead. Randvi was dead. Everyone he loved had been slaughtered, and damned to the icy pits of Helheim for eternity. There was no hope of ever seeing them again, and with Aegenwulf’s men constantly kicking him down, Sigurd wondered if he should’ve just given in to them.

It didn’t matter much to him if he didn’t make it to Valhalla. The rest of his family was in Hel, anyway. The only thing left in his life that carried any sort of significance was the temptation of revenge, and even that seemed far out of reach.

But... what if this was what the Nornir intended for him? What if he was never meant to reunite with his brother? Had the gods placed Sigurd on this path in order to lead him to peace? Or were they simply driving him towards vengeance?

Well, whatever the case was, Sigurd wasn’t ready to throw his hands up in defeat just yet. He still had some strength left in him, and Tyr willing, he would use it to take Algar down once and for all.

“...I’m going to kill him, Eivor...” he whispered lifelessly, gazing at the weapon in his hands. “His death may not bring you back, but at least I can reclaim the honor he stole from us. I owe you that much, after everything that’s happened.”

Slowly rising from the bed, Sigurd slid the dagger back into its sheathe and adjusted the cloak hanging from his shoulders, striding over to the door. He wasn’t eager to present himself to the judgmental eyes of Forangal’s people, or deal with Algar’s nonsense once again, but for the sake of avoiding suspicion, he simply stifled his rage and put on a neutral face, hoping to conceal the fire that burned within.

He may not’ve been in a position to do anything just yet, but Sigurd had faith that his moment for revenge would come. Things like this often came when one least expected it, and in spite of all the suffering he had endured thus far, a part of him still hoped that the gods would grant him the opportunity eventually. 

He was just one man at the end of the day, but he carried the strength of his entire clan with him. And that gave him power.

Swinging the door open, Sigurd nearly stepped out into the corridor until he noticed someone else standing his tracks, causing him to come to an abrupt halt. Their fist was raised in the air as if they were just about to knock on the door, and judging by the perturbed look on their face, Sigurd assumed it wasn’t for a good reason.

He took a step back, stopping to greet his visitor.

“Edric?” Sigurd said, somewhat surprised.

A wave of relief washed over the young man’s expression. “Ah, Sigurd. There you are. I was looking for you.”

“You were? Is there something you need, my lord?”

“No,” Edric replied, his voice gentle with care. “I merely wanted to see how you were doing. I saw Edlynne and Joseph heading down to the main gate earlier, but you weren’t with them. And you certainly weren’t with me, so I feared something may have happened.”

Sigurd threw him a puzzled glance. “...Such as?”

The nobleman leaned against the doorframe, lowering the volume of his voice. “...People have been whispering ever since Algar spoke with you yesterday. They say you stormed out of his chambers like a beast on the hunt, and even Edlynne confessed she was worried about you. Did... something happen between you and Algar? He didn’t harm you, did he?”

Sigurd shook his head. “No, no. Nothing like that. I just...”

The Norseman trailed off into silence, reluctant to say more. He did not wish to lie to Edric, but he knew the consequences of what would happen if he told the truth.

“...He and I have our own disputes to settle.” Sigurd answered vaguely, his tone sharp with spite. “It is not something I wish to burden you with.”

Edric furrowed his brow in concern and let out a quiet sigh, unsure of what else to say. He had attempted to break down the wall between him and Sigurd more than a few times now, but it was evident that the man was adamant on keeping his thoughts to himself.

“I wish Algar wouldn’t hound you so often.” The young lord said. “He has no right to belittle you in such a way, and yet my father does nothing to tighten his reins. He’d do well to remind that man of his place.”

Sigurd remained stoic. “I can handle him, Edric. Algar is no more than a snake. His time will come.”

“I’m glad to hear it, but still... tensions are high enough as it is in Wedenscire. The last thing we need is Algar striking a flame with his constant war-mongering.”

The viking almost laughed aloud at Edric’s words. If only he knew.

“Well, anyway,” the Saxon continued, “enough of that. We have a thegn to greet. Raedan and his family are nearly at Forangal, and I’d prefer not to keep them waiting. Bear in mind, though, Sigurd -- should you ever need to get your thoughts out in the open, I’m always willing to lend an ear. I know how detrimental it can be to one’s well-being when they carry such burdens alone.”

Sigurd gave him an appreciative nod. “Thank you, my lord. I’ll remember that.”

Edric chuckled affectionately. “You know you can just call me Edric, right? There’s no need for such formalities.”

“Your father would disagree.”

The young man dismissed the concern. “My father is his own man, and so am I. You may be my bodyguard, but I see no need to treat you like a servant.”

The Norseman returned the smile. “...Very well, then. Edric it is.”

“Good.” Edric replied, removing himself from the doorframe. “Well, now that that’s out of the way, shall we get going?”

Sigurd reached an arm out, gesturing down the hallway. “Lead on.”

~~~~~~~~~~

A FEW MINUTES LATER

THE MAIN GATE

Standing alongside one other, Joseph and Edlynne stuck together at the front of the crowd as they waited in anticipation for Raedan’s arrival, eager to see the man and his family after all these years.

Even though they feared what would happen once he learned of Sigurd’s presence, the twins couldn’t deny that they were excited to see their father’s old friend again. It had been a long time since the thegn last set foot in Forangal thanks to the troubles of the war, and his children were also good friends with the twins themselves.

On the downside though, they were well aware of Raedan’s views towards vikings. He had lost family members of his own to their raids, and they had no doubts that Sigurd’s recent promotion would strain the peace a bit.

Fortunately however, Raedan was known to be a more respectable man. Unlike Algar, he valued diplomacy and restraint just as much as he did battle-prowess. He knew when one was more important than the other, and God willing, the twins hoped he’d be able to see sense today.

If not, Lord only knew what would happen.

“Bloody hell,” Joseph muttered, rubbing his hands together. “It’s freezing. Raedan couldn’t have arrived when the sun was higher in the sky?”

Edlynne rolled her eyes at her brother’s complaints. “Certainly, if you don’t mind him being delayed again.”

“I’m just saying, I’m much more of a gentleman when I’m not freezing my balls off.”

“Joseph...!” She scolded, reminding him of his vulgarity.

“Oh, relax. I won’t speak that way when Raedan’s around.”

Edlynne humorously raised a brow at him. “But you’ll speak that way in front of me?”

“You don’t have a great-sword sitting on your back.”

“Hush, you two.” A third voice jumped in, bringing the twins’ attention elsewhere.

Edlynne glanced to her side, feeling her chest loosen with relief once she saw who it was.

“Edric! You found Sigurd.”

“Indeed. I stopped by his chambers on the way here.”

The girl turned to the viking. “And you, Sigurd? Everything’s alright, I hope?”

The bodyguard nodded. “I’m well, Edlynne. You needn’t worry about me. I... apologize if I frightened you.”

Edlynne shook her head. “You didn’t frighten me. I was only concerned about what Algar may have done to you. I know how insufferable that man can be.”

Sigurd chuckled. “As do I. Believe me.”

Joseph let out a disapproving sigh. “That bastard looked awfully smug this morning when he was waltzing around with father. I have a bad feeling about where this is going. It’s never a good sign when someone like Algar is in high spirits.”

Edric stood next to the twins, placing himself closest to the gate. “Well, it won’t do us any good to speculate based on rumors. Now be quiet, both of you. Raedan and his family will be here soon. And for God’s sake, remember your manners.”

Joseph grinned playfully. “Yes, mother.”

Taking his position among the siblings, Sigurd lingered quietly beside them as he watched Aegenwulf’s guards get into formation, surrounding the gate in an orderly fashion.

Everywhere around him, he saw banners with Aegenwulf’s sigil flying proudly in the wind as they stood tall under the great white sky, dancing wildly in the breeze.

It was the same banner that would’ve been flying over Ravensthorpe by now if Algar hadn’t kept the ambush a secret. Much like a gravestone, they seemed to tower over the entire castle like a testament to the cruelty of their ealdorman’s housecarl, and every time Sigurd looked at it, he couldn’t help but think of all the souls that were lost on that tragic night.

“Open the gate!” One of the guards cried from the battlements, breaking Sigurd out of his thoughts. “Thegn Raedan has arrived!”

Taking hold of the gate’s controls, the guards began to steadily turn the mechanism as the castle opened itself to its esteemed guest, causing everyone inside the walls to fall into silence. 

Within the blink of an eye, an entire unit of soldiers had poured in through the entrance and filled the space with an impressive display of knights, all of them dressed head-to-toe in armor. Maroon capes fluttered behind them as they rode into Forangal on horseback, and in the center of their party, Sigurd spotted Thegn Raedan himself, sitting atop his mount in a dignified manner.

Sigurd had to admit, the man wasn’t what he expected. Contrary to the clean-cut, pristine nobleman he had envisioned in his head, Raedan actually looked much rougher in reality.

He was a tall, burly Saxon with the pride of a king, and the mindset of a warrior. His hair was long, brown, untamed, and he had a bushy beard clinging onto his chin. Streaks of grey could be seen dotting the wild strands of his mane, and on his neck, Sigurd noticed a simple cross hanging from a string.

As for the man himself, Raedan appeared to be slightly younger than Aegenwulf. His skin wasn’t creased with quite as many wrinkles, but it was still clear that he had experienced his own fair share of battle. A multitude of faint scars dusted the surface of his flesh, and hiding just underneath his sleeve, Sigurd could’ve sworn he saw an old burn clutching onto his wrist.

The Saxon thegn was certainly a sight to behold, and just based on the sheer amount of soldiers that were within his company, the Norseman thought it was safe to assume that Joseph’s instincts were probably right. A war was definitely brewing behind closed doors, and Raedan was going to play a vital role in it.

“Raedan, my friend!” Aegenwulf greeted joyously, strolling down the center of the courtyard with Algar in tow. The housecarl threw a side glance at Sigurd along the way, grinning in malice.

“Aegenwulf, you old dog!” Raedan replied with a hearty guffaw, dismounting his horse. “There you are! Lord knows I’ve missed that ugly face!”

The ealdorman laughed. “And I, yours.”

The two of them met in the middle, embracing each other in a friendly hug.

“Oh, Aegenwulf,” Raedan said, his tone softened by a tinge of nostalgia, “it’s been far too long, old friend. Far too long.”

“Yes, it has. I fear I have grown weary of this war in the recent years. It is a blessing to see you again.”

Raedan separated the hug, looking the ealdorman in the vehemently eye. “Indeed. I... heard about what happened to Gareth. Terrible shame, that. He was a fine warrior. Wise beyond his years. He will be eternally missed.”

Aegenwulf’s gaze fell to the ground. “Yes. My heart still bleeds for him everyday. His loss has left a crack in the foundation of our family, but with your help, I’m hoping that a fate like his will never be repeated.”

The thegn patted him firmly on the shoulder. “Of course. My sword is yours, Aegenwulf. Always.”

Bringing their conversation to a pause, the rest of Raedan’s family joined the scene, happily walking up to the ealdorman.

“Lady Moira,” Aegenwulf said with a smile, approaching Raedan’s wife. “The years have been much kinder to you, it seems.”

The woman beamed at him. “You flatter me, Aegenwulf. It’s a pleasure to see you again. I know my children have certainly missed the familiar walls of Forangal.”

“How are Henry and Sibley? I trust they are doing well?”

She stepped to the side, revealing two adolescents behind her. “You can ask them yourself. Children, you remember Ealdorman Aegenwulf, don’t you?”

The older sibling, Henry, gave the man a timid nod of acknowledgement. He appeared to be around the same age as Joseph, and had a head of blond hair.

“H-Hello, my lord.”

Moira let out a soft tsk. “Oh, come now, Hal. There’s no need to be shy. You’ve known Aegenwulf and his family ever since you were just a child.”

The ealdorman chuckled. “The boy’s behavior is understandable. It’s been years since we last met. I fear our memory has faded somewhat. Though, it’s clear he’s grown into a fine young man.”

“Indeed,” Moira agreed. “He’s becoming more and more like his father everyday. Apart from the poetry, that is.”

Aegenwulf quirked a brow. “You write poetry?”

Henry knotted his hands together. “...I-It’s nothing special, really.”

“Take pride in your passions, young man. They are the things that define us, after all.”

The ealdorman brought his attention to Henry’s little sister, Sibley. She was a young girl -- roughly a year or two behind Edlynne -- and shared her father’s hazel-colored hair.

“And Lady Sibley, how do you fare in these trying times?”

“I’m well, considering the circumstances.” She replied. “I think me and my brother are both just shaken up by the Danes we encountered yesterday.”

Aegenwulf shot Raedan a concerned glance. “You encountered Danes?”

The other man crossed his arms. “Not quite. As my messenger told you, we saw them wandering around in the woods near Agenbury. They were a little too close for comfort, but fortunately, they seemed to be too preoccupied with other matters to notice us. However, I did note that they were heading this way.”

The ealdorman rubbed his chin in thought. “Is that so?”

“Yes. You were wise to call for me, Aegenwulf. I fear that trouble will soon be knocking on your door.”

“Hmm. Then perhaps it’d be best if we got to work as soon as possible.”

Raedan held a hand up. “Hold on a moment, old friend. Aren’t you forgetting something?”

The ealdorman paused. “Am I--? Oh! Yes.” He turned around to face his own family, guiding the thegn to the crowd that stood before them.

“You remember my son, Edric.” Aegenwulf said, gesturing to the young man.

Raedan laughed in disbelief, eyeing the boy from head-to-toe.

“Edric? Is that you, lad?” 

The nobleman smiled at him. “Hello, Raedan. It’s good to see you again.”

“My God,” Raedan remarked cheerfully, patting Edric on the shoulder. “Look at that beard! And you’ve become so much taller as well. You’re growing far too fast, young man. You and I will have to spar sometime.”

The thegn brought his focus to the twins. “And Joseph and Edlynne. My goodness... the last time I saw you both, you were no higher than my knees. Now look at you. Standing tall and proud like a true set of nobles. Aegenwulf must be pleased.”

Edlynne’s expression radiated at the compliment. “We missed you, Raedan. And your family as well. It’s been so long since we last had the opportunity to get together.”

Raedan nodded. “Aye. Feels like an eternity ago. I trust you and your brother are staying safe?”

Joseph shrugged. “As safe as we can be, my lord.”

“It gladdens me to hear it.”

Letting his gaze travel further down the crowd, Raedan suddenly came to an abrupt halt when he noticed Sigurd standing at the twins’ side, studying his every move like a wolf watching from the woods.

Neither of them said anything to each other, but purely based on the slight shift in Raedan’s mood, everyone could tell that a sense of unease had settled into the courtyard.

“...You have a Dane with you?” Raedan asked, his tone completely devoid of any warmth.

Aegenwulf walked up to the two of them, hoping to calm his friend’s nerves. “He’s a Norse, actually. This is Sigurd the Lone Wolf. He joined us recently.”

“Joined?”

“Yes. He is the one responsible for protecting my children.”

Raedan tilted his head. “A Norse bodyguard? In Forangal? Are you certain that’s wise, old friend?”

The ealdorman didn’t appear bothered. “Sigurd has yet to give me a reason to distrust him. In fact, he’s been quite efficient in his duties. He’s a skilled warrior, and he knows the consequences he will have to face should he betray my hospitality.”

“I certainly hope so. Norsemen are formidable warriors, yes, but they don’t like to be ordered around. Trying to control them is like trying to tame the ocean. It’s an endeavor doomed to end in futility.”

Raedan stared into Sigurd’s ice-cold eyes, deciding to let the matter go for now. “...But I trust your judgement, Aegenwulf. If you feel this man is no threat to us, then I shan’t press any further. Though, a little caution would not be ill-advised. There’s a fire in this one. You’d do best to put it out.”

Aegenwulf took his friend’s opinion to heart. “Oh, believe me. I shall.”

Putting the subject aside, the ealdorman led the thegn away from the crowds and guided him into the castle, eager to carry on with their day.

“Come, let’s take this to the war room. We have much to discuss. Your family can get settled in their chambers in the meantime. My twins will show them the way.” Aegenwulf glanced back at his children. “Edric! I want you to join us.”

The nobleman stepped forward. “And Sigurd? What about him?”

“Let him stay. This conversation is for our ears only.”

“...Very well.”

Following his father to the war room, Edric swiftly strode away from the crowds and tagged along with the two Saxons, sticking close to them as Algar tailed them from behind.

Meanwhile, Sigurd remained with the twins and silently clung to the shadows, unwilling to open himself up to conversation. He had been in a foul mood ever since his exchange with Algar the previous day, and he had no interest in socializing at the moment.

“Joseph, Edlynne,” Henry said shyly, approaching the twins. “I’m glad to see you two are doing well after all these years.”

The girl returned the gesture. “And you, Hal. I have to admit, part of me was worried when we heard why you were delayed. Hopefully you didn’t run into too much trouble on the way here?”

Moira jumped in. “We’re quite alright, Edlynne. We arrived unscathed, thank the Lord. These Danes were not so aggressive as the others we have seen in the past. Though, I must confess, I am somewhat...” her gaze traveled to Sigurd, “...skeptical, shall we say, about your new friend here.”

Edlynne looked up at the Norseman, placing a friendly hand on his arm. “You mean Sigurd? Have no fear, Lady Moira. He won’t harm you. Unless, of course, you give him a reason to.”

“Is he Christian?”

The twins paused at that.

“No,” Joseph answered. “Why does it matter?”

The expression on Moira’s face said it should’ve been obvious. “Well, it’s difficult to trust the word of a heretic. If he has not converted to Christianity yet, I’d suggest working on that as soon as possible. I’d feel much better knowing that your safety were in the hands of a God-fearing man rather than a heathen. It’s just easier that way.”

Sigurd already grew tired of the woman’s imposing nature. “Leave me to my gods, Saxon, and I shall leave you to yours.”

Edlynne felt her heart skip at the viking’s dismissive response, attempting to reconcile with the noblewoman.

“Erm, w-what he means is, he may not be a Christian himself, but he bears no ill will towards those who are.”

Moira let out a breath, clearly somewhat offended. “...So I see.”

Joseph hurriedly switched topics, hoping to ease the tension between them. “S-Shall we show them to their rooms, sister? They’ve had a long journey, after all. Perhaps now would be a good time to let them rest.”

“Yes,” Edlynne fervently agreed. “Follow us, Lady Moira. We’ll show you where you and your family can stay. In the meantime,” she glanced at Sigurd, “maybe it’d be best if you stayed here...?”

It didn’t take long for him to catch the hint. “If that’s what you wish, my lady.”

“Very good. We’ll see you later then, Sigurd.”

Rushing Moira and her family away from the main gate, the twins eagerly separated them from the bodyguard and brought them into the castle, leaving Sigurd all by himself in the courtyard.

If the man was being honest, part of him felt relieved that Joseph and Edlynne left him behind. He didn’t wish to create conflict between Aegenwulf’s family and his new guests, but he feared he was on a short fuse today.

He just couldn’t stop thinking about Eivor. Algar had yet to be forthcoming about the details surrounding his death, and thus, Sigurd had been left to the cruelty of his imagination, forced to come up with his own conclusion.

Anything could’ve happened to the man. For all he knew, Eivor could’ve died honorably as a warrior worthy of Odin’s halls just as Algar said, or... he could’ve died in a pile of ash, forsaken by the gods and desecrated by the housecarl’s atrocities.

Whatever the case was, Sigurd feared that he was falling into a darkness similar to the one that loomed over Aegenwulf. An insatiable desire for revenge burned deep within his veins, and he felt as if the world was swallowing him whole. A grief unlike any other relentlessly consumed his thoughts, and the harsh reality of his isolation in Forangal only made matters worse.

He was the only Norse here; the only one to fight in Odin’s name. Everyone else in the castle viewed him as a mad heretic, and even with those who may have been more cordial, Sigurd still found himself unable to be completely truthful.

He was no more than an outcast inside these walls. Aegenwulf’s children may have treated him with respect, but in the end, Sigurd knew this place would never be his home. 

His heart remained lost somewhere in the depths of Norway, and he wanted nothing more than to return to its icy shores. A voice more ethereal than that of any skald’s called him home, and he longed desperately to break free from his chains.

“Ugh, those Saxons...” a stranger suddenly said in Sigurd’s ear, “...always bleating like sheep. Is it any wonder that their kings have fallen so easily in our presence?”

The viking exchanged looks with the man at his side, confused about his remark. Much like Sigurd himself, the stranger was also wearing a suit of Saxon-made armor, and yet, he spoke in the language of the Norsemen.

“I’m sorry, what?” Sigurd asked.

The stranger lifted the visor of his helm, revealing a face marked with Nordic tattoos.

Sigurd’s eyes widened in realization. “...You’re a Norse...”

The man nodded, smirking subtly at him. “So are you, it seems. Convenient, don’t you think, how the Nornir have brought us together today?”

The bodyguard stumbled over his words, unsure of what exactly was going on. “I-I don’t understand. What’s Thegn Raedan doing with a Norse in his company?”

“Oh, he doesn’t know we’re here,” he explained. “That’s the whole point of the helms, you see.”

“We?” Sigurd caught. “There’s more of you?”

The man slid the visor back down, concealing his identity. “Indeed. So it’d probably be best if you avoided drawing any attention to us, lest we start a war with these sheep, yes?”

Sigurd lowered his voice, admittedly intrigued by the stranger’s motives. “Who are you? What are you doing here? What is it you want?”

“Before I answer your questions, allow me to raise one of my own.”

The bodyguard sighed. “Very well. But make it quick. I haven’t much time before those ‘sheep’ return.”

The man flicked his head from side-to-side, checking to make sure no one was listening. 

“Your name is Sigurd, yes? That’s what the ealdorman said? Well, I’m curious, you wouldn’t happen to be the son of Styrbjorn, would you? The drunkard king?”

He froze upon hearing the question. “...How do you know my name?”

A chuckle escaped the stranger’s lips. “So that’s a ‘yes,’ then. Good. I’ve traveled a long way to find you, Sigurd. You’re not an easy man to locate. Though, I must admit, I expected to find you in the dungeons, chained as a prisoner. Not standing among Wedenscire’s nobility. You’ve certainly climbed up in the world, haven’t you?”

“They don’t know who I really am,” he said. “But set that aside for now. Why were you looking for me?”

“Because your brother asked me too.”

Sigurd shot a bewildered glare at the other man, unable to stifle the flame that flared up inside him.

Did he just say Eivor sent him? What sort of ruse was this? There was no way he could’ve been telling the truth. Eivor was dead -- Algar had made that quite clear. 

He instantly grabbed the stranger’s collar and pulled him close, leaning into his face. “What do you mean my brother sent you? Is this meant to be some sort of jest? Explain yourself!”

“Easy, drengr...” he soothed, holding onto Sigurd’s arm. “Your brother’s in East Anglia at the moment, under Oswald’s care. He arrived with your wife about a week ago, not too long after the ambush. They were both wounded and in need of help. Sadly, your wife succumbed to her injuries. Eivor, on the other hand, remains alive and well.”

The news hit Sigurd like a sword to the chest. He figured Randvi was dead along with everyone else, but that didn’t make her death any less painful. 

“And how do I know you’re telling the truth? What reason do you have to help us? Who are you, anyway? You still haven’t told me your name.”

“My name is Gjuki,” the man replied. “Your brother freed me from slavery when he launched an assault on my master’s clan. This is the least I can do for him after everything he’s done for me.”

Sigurd loosened his hold on Gjuki’s collar, shocked by what he just heard.

Could it be true? Could Eivor really still be alive? Had Algar been lying to him this entire time?

It would explain why the housecarl had yet to give him a straight answer. Up until this point, the Saxon hadn’t been able to provide any details pertaining to Eivor’s death, and if Gjuki spoke the truth, it would answer many of the questions Sigurd had floating around in his head.

Algar knew Eivor was alive. He knew he failed to carry out Aegenwulf’s orders, and that was why he was so intent on keeping Sigurd under his boot. Just like anyone else who was familiar with the two brothers, Algar was aware of the feats they could achieve if they put their heads together, and he wanted to make sure they wouldn’t be able to fight back.

Still, in spite of the evidence Gjuki presented, Sigurd couldn’t deny that part of him remained in disbelief. He had spent so long wondering about the circumstances of Eivor’s death, that he never stopped to question whether or not it actually happened.

He truly believed he had been left all alone in this world, and -- given enough time -- he would’ve even accepted it. But now that he knew the truth of the situation, Sigurd felt a newfound strength igniting inside him.

“...My brother’s alive...” he whispered under his breath. “Eivor is... alive. There is hope...”

Gjuki nodded. “Yes, but hope alone will not be enough to save you. If you truly wish to put an end to this ordeal, you must kill those responsible for the attack in the first place. Problem is, Eivor and I still don’t know who that is. That’s why he sent me to investigate.”

Sigurd’s face lit up with an idea. “I might have a lead. There is a Saxon here. His name is Algar. He is no more than a lapdog for the ealdorman, but I get the feeling he knows more about the attack on Ravensthorpe than he’s letting on. He knows something that Aegenwulf doesn’t.”

“Then it would be wise for you to remain here. It’s clear that you have the trust of the Saxons in Forangal -- to a certain extent, at least -- and you can use that to your advantage.”

The viking was hesitant. “I suppose you’re right, but not all the Saxons here are driven by deceit. Some of them have honor. I do not wish to betray their trust. They saved my life, after all.”

The bard didn’t share Sigurd’s confidence. “Yes, but for whose benefit? Do not let their false sense of camaraderie fool you, Sigurd. You have been here naught for a fortnight, and they have already taken the liberty of putting a leash on you. You are nothing more than a tool to them. Trust me. I would know.”

Gjuki turned on his heel and began heading towards the main gate, anxious to reunite with the rest of his men.

“I will leave you for now, Sigurd. Our time is running out, and I do not wish to raise anymore suspicion. I will send one of my men back to Elmenham and inform Eivor of what we have found here. In the meantime, I shall remain in Wedenscire and continue with my investigation. If you ever need to contact me, head to the abandoned pier just south of Forangal. There is a brazier there that stands right next to the water. Light it, and I will come.”

Sigurd gave him a nod. “I will, Gjuki. Thank you. For everything you’re doing.”

“Do not thank me yet, Lone Wolf. If our plan is going to succeed, we will both need to stay alive. So play along with these Saxons’ games for now. Let them think they’re in control. Then, when the time is right... we will bring unto them the wrath of Thor himself.” The bard chuckled lowly. “They won’t even see it coming. Oh, what a sight that will be...”

Gjuki mounted his horse, waving goodbye to the bodyguard. 

“Until then, stay safe, Sigurd. Your brother is on the warpath to avenge your clan, and I shudder to think of what he’ll do if he loses you too. Do not disappoint him.”

[bangtancentricsblog]

○werewolf in the suburbs○

➣ just your friendly neighborhood werewolf trying to keep his secret, well a secret

❒ pairing: kim namjoon x reader

❒ genre: angst, fluff, slight humor, slight crack (maybe)

❒ alternative universe: werewolf

❒ rating: NC 17

❒ word count: 4.8k +

warnings/disclosures: no edit we die like men, angst but like mild angst, werewolves Jimin and Jungkook, mc is human, cameos from yoongi, Jimin is a dick, self deprecating thoughts, connected universe, Easter eggs keke, old people, fluff is at the end, I’m sorry this is such a mess, there’s nothing too bad in the one, can you spot the song references? clearly namu is my favorite

monster mash ml • main ml • AO3

The trees look beautiful today, Namjoon thinks as he sips his morning tea, but he can’t enjoy it as you bore holes into his head from across the street. He’s lived here for more than two years now and he’s familiar with everyone but you are a complete stranger. A new face in his safe suburban community, and it was a community when the only people who lived here were elderly couples. He didn't mind them after all he was friendly with all of them, hell he did a lot of work for them. Like Norman who owned the farm down the road, he helped with whatever he could and in return Norman would let him have fresh fruits and vegetables.

Lilian from the flower shop let him have his pick of seedlings from the nursery when he helped unload deliveries. Jack the local butcher let him have his pick of meats and cheeses for cheap, while their town's mayor offered his niece’s hand in marriage for becoming a positive member in the community. Youngest member of the community would be more accurate, Namjoon had nothing but time on his hands and so he helped where he could when he could. He liked his quiet life, that is until you showed up with your paint splattered overalls and messy hair. He won't even mention the cute oversized glasses and that infectious laughter of yours because he hated it.

What's more, you ruined his perfect little routine, the house you now lived in used to belong to a woman named Alice, a woman who had nothing but harsh words to say but was sweet even with her glare. He liked Alice, she reminded him of his own grandmother back home and she hadn’t mentioned leaving the last time he’d been over tending to her garden. So he wondered just what exactly you’re doing in her house. There were exactly four houses on the street, all decently sized with dense forest to their surroundings. Namjoon liked his home, the wrap around porch was something his friend Jimin had loved when he’d bought it. Most importantly he liked that the forest behind his home was a direct path to his pack's land 40 miles away.

Somehow when you’d introduced yourself you’d shown a little too much interest in him, and it creeped him out. Since then you’d come around so often he was alway ready to receive you, he’d offer you tea and sometimes you’d accept happily and other times you’d decline a stuttery mess of words slipping past your lips as you’d hurried away from him. Today however you’d just been staring at him from across the street beneath the shade of an old oak tree. The leaves long since changed color to a vibrant goldenrod. The air held a chill as it swept past bringing with it the soft scent that he knew came off you. It was like fresh mint, refreshing but tainted with the lingering of chocolate that always made him shudder. What a weird mix, he thought.

He’s tired of waiting though, so he stands making his way over to you ready to offer you tea. Though he’s surprised to see you fast asleep, your head tilted towards his direction. It’s cute, the way your brows furrow the slightest and the pout to your lips, but there’s something more. The scent of salt on you is strong, more so than usual and it worries him slightly as he drops down to crouch in front of you. He takes a deep breath catching something else, he’s not sure what though. Humans were such complicated beings, scents were easy to tell apart in his kind but with humans there were too many scents that lingered. To many possibilities, and unfortunately Namjoon hadn’t been around humans for long enough to really know.

His wolf whines at him, as he moves closer nuzzling your hair to really get an idea of what's wrong. You sigh eyelids fluttering slightly, leaning closer to him with a shiver. Closer, his wolf hums, but Namjoon moves away, hand going to press against your forehead. You’re warm, warmer than he thinks is normal for humans. Almost as warm as he is, and he’s a wholly different species, it worries him. He’s quick to haul you into his arms and towards his house, to his surprise you snuggle closer to his body, he pays no mind to how his wolf purrs at the contact.

*

The following day and a half he spends taking care of you, to the best of his abilities that is. Luckily enough for him your fever broke the following night (something he had to look up) and went into town to get human medicine. Delia from the pharmacy smiled politely and had laughed when he stumbled through his explanation for buying so much over the counter medicines. It had been mortifying for him to call you his girlfriend, but he’d rather not tell them it was you he was taking care of. If he’s being completely transparent he has no idea how exactly you’d gotten better but you had and he's happy for it.

“Hey.” he greets over the rim of his coffee mug as he sits at his kitchen island. You look better, even your scent smells better, more minty than chocolatey today it washes over him in an oddly refreshing way.

“Hi, thanks for taking care of me.” you laugh softly tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Your eyes are squinted, in the early morning light and the strawberry skys are just now giving way to the mango and blueberry that come after the near crack of dawn.

“You’re welcome, would you like some coffee, maybe tea?” he asks.

“No, I’m okay. I should probably head home and shower. I already put the sheets to wash. I hope you don't mind, thank you again.”

“I’ll walk you home then.” he makes to move out of his seat, meeting your gaze at the slight muffle squeak that comes tumbling from your lips.

“No, that’s okay you’ve done enough.” you quickly mutter shuffling your feet before giving him one last thank you and excusing yourself. That’s cute, he thinks leaning his cheek into his palm. The smile that tugs at his lips, is soft, dreamy even but Namjoon is none the wiser. He feels a bit woozy all of a sudden groaning slightly at the way the light irritates his eyes. It isn't often that he falls ill but he hasn't been feeling all too well for the last couple of days since he’s brought you into his home. He hopes it’s pre-rut symptoms but he’s not too sure after all there’s something different about this.

“Maybe I should go home for a bit.” he mutters to no one in particular, as he stands moving to rinse his mug before making his way to his bedroom.

The sun hangs high in the sky by the time you have showered and fed your poor cat Castiel. Who hasn't left your side since you’ve come home, which is odd in itself considering he’s a dick most days. He’s purring on your chest pawing at your face every few minutes to get you to kiss his head, and you do with a soft giggle. His fur is soft as silk as you run your finger through it absentmindedly. Your mind is elsewhere, sifting through the hazy memories of the last two days that you’d been away from home. Namjoon was very kind to you, and sure he was tall, broad, an absolute tree of a man that had your poor simple heart falling for him in an instant.

It’s too bad you couldn't be calm and confident like your cousin sometimes, she would know what to do. Though, you doubt he’d be interested in you either way, he seemed like the type who liked booksmart, ambitious girls. Girls who wore clothes of the latest season, with long legs and big brains, the put together type which was everything you weren’t. Who wanted a bubbly overly clumsy failed artist living off an inheritance in the middle of nowhere? You sigh heavily, heart aching as you realize the little crush you had has probably withered with the little bit of self deprecating thoughts. Well it was a nice little fantasy you supposed, but you really should do something to thank him. You briefly wonder if your cousin has time to help you bake Namjoon something.

To your surprise, your cousin does indeed have time to come help you. She’s at your house a few days later, her best friend in tow, Yoongi’s been a constant in both your lives you’d long since started treating him like family. Though you’re a little sad to not see Suga, her super cute and cuddly black cat, he’s nothing like your Castiel. She mutters something about him being a little too sick for the travels.

“So, what do you want to make?” she asks, tying her long hair up into a ponytail. You do the same though your hair is much shorter than hers. Yoongi goes through your cabinets pulling bowls and the hand mixer to help prep. You smile at him gratefully moving to pull aprons off the hooks in the pantry.

“Smells like a dog in here.” Yoongi says after knotting his apron, and you wince taking deep breaths to catch the scent he speaks of. You don’t find anything out of the usual, just the lingering scent of pineapple from the candle that sits on your coffee table.

“Maybe I should close the windows.” You offer, missing the shared look between your cousin and Yoongi.

“____, sweetie, what do you want to make?” Your cousin asks again as you fiddle with the windows.

“I don’t really know, maybe muffins, how about chocolatechip?” You say, tilting your head slightly, not entirely sure if he’ll even like them. Truth be told you're not sure Namjoon even eats carbs not with the way he was built, not that you were looking. I mean sure you looked, but like respectfully! It was hard to miss anyways especially when his boobs were just as big if not bigger than your own! Again, you had looked, respectfully! She hums in thought and Yoongi moves to stand behind her wrapping his arms around her, resting his chin on her head.

“How about we make a little of everything, I know you like muffins so we’ll make enough so that you can enjoy them too.” She offers swaying slightly along with Yoongi who seems to have grown bored rather quickly. You smile, moving to wrap your own arms around her to squish her between you and Yoongi. She groans, muttering her discomfort but you know she loves it as cold as she may pretend to be.

*

Jimin and Jungkook are pulling on some shorts before walking out of the forest, beads of sweat shine in the low light of the evening as they move past the foliage and onto Namjoon’s property. They’d come looking for Namjoon who hadn’t answered when Jin had called to check in with the younger wolf, and had yet to return the call. Jimin still loves this wrap around porch, he thinks he could get used to this if he really wanted out of pack life but he doesn't, not yet anyways. They’re coming around the side when they spot you standing at the door a basket in hand, the glasses you wear are comically big on your face slipping down your nose as you mutter to yourself. Jimin takes you in, the chunky cable knit sweater dwarfs you significantly making your look so small, but the whole outfit you wear reminds him of a child.

The pale blue of your sweater adds just a touch of color to your outfit, the tights and booties you wear are black. He’s most drawn to the half pigtails that sit atop your head, cute he thinks. He watches you for a bit longer before your gaze darts up as Jungkook steps closer peeking over your shoulder like some overgrown pup. He sighs internally because of course the pup of their group would step closer at the scent of food.

“Hi, oh my god you’re naked!” you yell dropping your gaze again to avoid looking at their half naked forms. He stifles a chuckle so as not to offend you, humans were so very amusing.

“We’re not naked.” Jimin says watching as you try and shrink away from his gaze, however Jungkook still stands behind you. It’s almost funny how you look like a caged mouse between the two of them ready to be devoured.

“Your boobs are out.” You mumble bringing the basket you hold in front of your face to further hide behind. Jimin pauses, d-did you just say boobs? Jungkook’s eyes grow in size as he meets Jimin’s gaze he can see the way the other man’s body trembles with concealed laughter.

“Who are you again?” Jimin asks, noticing the peculiar way Jungkook has not so subtly taken to sniffing you. Not the basket in your hand but you.

“I’m a friend of Namjoon’s, ____, I live down the street.” you say cheerily.

“A friend you say? I don't think he’s ever mentioned you before.” Jimin quirks his head slightly stepping closer.

“Oh, that’s okay we uh, we aren't that close?” you murmur gaze falling to your feet once more.

“Then are you really friends? You’re kinda plain looking, you aren't too tall, I’d say you’re very average at best.” you flinch back from him after what he’s said. You gnaw on your lip to keep quiet because you know. You offer him a tight smile, eyes glazed over and Jungkook is the one to glare at Jimin, because the pleasant mix of chocolate and mint with a hint of something oh so familiar has soured.

“I should go, please give this to Namjoon.” you thrust the basket into Jimin’s chest, he fumbles with it almost dropping it altogether as you turn on your heel almost tripping down the stairs in your rush to get away from the two. You’re out of sight in an instant, Jimin looks a little smug as Jungkook stares at the space you once occupied.

“That was really mean of you.” Jungkook spits.

“Who cares, she’s human.” Jimin scoffs, narrowing his eyes at the taller boy. He shoves the basket at Jungkook moving to take the spare key from where it’s wedged above the door frame. There’s a soft click before the two make their way inside, the house smells almost the same a little stale but mostly the same. It’s unnaturally quiet as they move further into the house which is unsettling. Jungkook sets the basket down in the kitchen moving towards the lone bedroom on the first floor before something is darting past him. The giant taupe mass that zips past has his lips quirking slightly.

“Namjoon you had us scared!” he laughs as the elder buries his muzzle in Jungkook’s abdomen.

“Why didn't you check in?” Jimin asks as he enters the room, the growl that rips through the room is brief as the giant wolf’s ears flick to the side before he’s bolting out the open front door. The two yell after him running out to follow him but the elder is gone, and for the first time since Namjoon has moved out of pack territory Jimin and Jungkook are worried.

*

Yoongi stretches out on your rooftop yawning a bit as he watches the giant mutt sprint into your yard. A quirk to his head as he sits quietly and watches as it goes sniffing around the area, well that’s interesting he thinks as a single corner of his lips tilt up.

*

Your cheeks itch, you think as you rub at them with the back of your hands; your nose is runny and unfortunately you don't have any tissues. It’s not like you to cry over something like that, especially when it came from a virtual stranger, a really good looking one at that. You hate that he was so quick to see the things you didn't like about yourself almost as if he knew. It’s stupid really because you had worked past this, had gone all your life being ridiculed and compared to your near perfect cousin. The one who went to a private school, who’d won the gene pool lottery because she was gorgeous, she’d beg to differ but despite all that you don't resent her. Not when she cared about you as much as she did, she doted on you as much as she could.

Still you can't help but wonder what it would've been like to be a little more like her, it’s silly because you don't really want her life necessarily. You just wanted something to call your own, you sigh letting your eyes fall closed as you try your hardest not to fall deeper into those nasty thoughts. Somehow you’d ended up sitting in the forest behind your house back against a tree in hiding. Mostly because your cousin is fiercely protective of you, but also because you don't want her to see the tear tracks that stick to your cheeks. The leaves crunch not far from you, and you whip your head in that direction, heart racing. You shriek as a furry mass collides into your body knocking you over. It whines loudly nuzzling into you and you glance down to see a giant dog?

He’s beautiful, shiny coat of taupe fur shines in the low light filtering through the treetops, big beautiful eyes that literally shimmer as he blinks at you. This dog has stolen your heart and you wonder just where the hell he came from. He’s yipping, bumping his head to your chest, before dropping his weight to lay beside you, head happily nestled between your boobs. He huffs a breath, blowing it into your face and you giggle. The whine he lets out is low almost like he’s crying, it breaks your heart a little.

“It’s okay, big guy please don't cry.” you coo running your fingers through his fur, his rumbles happily almost like a purr but slightly different. The laugh you let out is involuntary as his tongue swipes at your cheeks, you push at his massive head in an attempt to get him to stop but he just won't. He really is beautiful you think as he growls playfully at you pulling at your hair before nuzzling close, but he’s a little too big for you.

“-onie!” you hear and the dog goes stiff, turning and growling at whoever has approached you two. You peek around the dog's massive body to see Namjoon’s friend, the mean one standing there hands out. His eyes dart towards you pulling more growls from the dog as he does so, the other boy comes to stand beside his friend.

“Is this your dog?” you ask shuffling to your feet with a curious stare.

“Yes, he’s very viscous so he isn't usually let out.” Jimin says watching as both you and Namjoon quirk your heads at him at the blatant lie.

“He seems friendly enough to me.” you say running a hand through the dogs fur again.

“He must like you!” Jungkook supplies quickly as if to cover for the elders poor lie.

“Monie, come here.” Jimin says motioning to Namjoon who just stands beside you, as he lets out a sad little whine. He doesn't move, you kneel beside him scratching behind his ears and planting a soft little kiss to his nose.

“Go, thank you.” you smile, and he bumps his head against your face for one more kiss before he walks over, turning to glance at you and sprinting past Jimin and Jungkook. Jimin curses turning on his heel and rushing after him. Jungkook however stays stock still staring at something over your shoulder.

“It’s nice to meet you, I’m sure Namjoon will be happy to see you.” he smiles before turning and sprinting in the direction he’d come.

*

Your cousin stands at your back door, a frown marring her features as she watches Jungkook run off. What was that mutt doing here, better yet what the hell were you doing hanging out with a pack of wolves in the forest no less. This was interesting, she thinks heading back inside before you can see.

*

“What did you say to her?” Namjoon asks after he’s shifted back to his human form tugging at the waistband of his sweats.

“Why are you assuming I said anything, Jungkook could’ve been the one to say something.” Jimin huffs crossing his arms at his chest.

“I said nuffing.” Jungkook offers around a mouthful of muffin. Namjoon stares at the younger long and hard, because he didn’t have muffins.

“Where’d you get that?”

“Your neighbor brought them over earlier. She’s super cute by the way.” He says, watching amusedly as Namjoon growls at him. It surprises Jimin because Namjoon had never growled at anyone least of all his favorite!

“D-do you like her?” Jimin gags more than a little scandalized at the idea. A human, Namjoon liked a human. Maybe he needed to move back to pack territory, yeah that seemed like a good idea.

“I don't know. She’s different, she smells nice I mean. Like mint and chocolate which is weird already but like in a good way. My wolf likes her too and y’know that's good, maybe?” Jungkook is smiling extra wide, looking almost manic, while Jimin looks like he’ll be sick.

“Maybe you should come back home, Jin would love the help y'know. I’m sure you’re tired of the stench of denture cream and prunes.” Jimin sniffs.

“Not really, I like it here.” he murmurs rubbing at the back of his head.

“Jungkook stop eating and say something!” Jimin shouts almost hysterically.

“These muffins are really good, Namjoon you should have some since your cute neighbor brought them over. Jimin please eat something you can be melodramatic when you’re hungry.” He says waving the baked goodness at the two of them. Jimin is reluctant to take one from him while Namjoon is more than happy to load up on carbs after being stuck in his wolf form for almost a week. He bites into it groaning because this had to be the best muffin he’d ever had, his insides warm at the thought of you baking them and bringing them over.

“I think she might be your mate.” Jungkook offers, biting into a blueberry muffin, it’s his fourth of the batch.

“What?” Namjoon sputters, choking on the bit he has in his mouth.

“Why would you say that?” Jimin says, sounding appalled but still stuffs his cheeks full of muffin.

“I’m just saying, as someone who already has their mate I would know.” he says with an air of arrogance.

“Just because your mate is human doesn’t mean Namjoon’s is.” Jimin huffs with a pout.

“She’s a witch, not a human, and I mean he’s acting a lot like I did when I first met her.”

“Doesn’t her familiar hate you?”

“That's besides the point, what I’m saying is he’s acting like a wolf with a non-wolf mate would.” Jungkook glares at Jimin, for such a small man he sure likes to go toe to toe with someone much bigger than him in every aspect.

“Do you really think so?” Namjoon asks eyes wide in wonder. There’s a glimmer to them, a shine he didn't have before. His wolfs yips happily, the smile that splits Namjoon’s lips is very telling. Jimin groans because of course another one of his close pack mates would have a human mate, it only made sense.

*

You’re gnawing on your lip when your cousin walks into the kitchen the next morning. She looks slightly disheveled, a scowl on her lips at the way the shine literally blinds her. Yoongi comes in after her, looking no less awake than she does a pout to his lips that tilts your own upwards.

“Morning, coffee?” you ask as both of them nod their head once before sitting at the island.

“Why does the sun have to be up everyday, why can't it be cold and gloomy all the time.” your cousin groans into her palms as she drags them across her face in an attempt to wake up a little more.

“It can’t be that bad.” you laugh hugging her as you put a mug of the caffeine in front of her and repeating the process with Yoongi who whines when you move away from him. You’re quickly plating a light breakfast, nothing that requires a lot because truth be told you’re feeling a little frazzled today. The butterflies in your tummy have yet to settle, you almost feel nauseous, but in a good way. Toasted bagels with cream cheese, and fruit will have to do you suppose, you’re also a little sad that your cousin and Yoongi have to go home soon, because you really liked having them over, it beats living in a house as big as this all on your lonesome.

“What’s going on over there rainbow bright?” Yoongi asks, a hint of concern lacing his tone.

“Nothing, I’m just gonna miss you two.” you smile sadly at them.

“Why? It’s not like we can’t come visit or vice versa.”

“I don't know, I like having you around.” your cousin gags muttering about how it’s too early for all this sweetness.

“Your teeth will rot if you stay this sweet, but I don't think you’ll be alone for long.” she smirks into her coffee cup. You’re about to ask why when there’s a knock at your door, and you hurriedly wipe your hands to see who it could be. You pull the door open, and to your surprise Namjoon stands there a small bouquet of daisies in hand.

“Namjoon, hi.” you say a little too breathlessly.

“Hi, um can we talk?” he asks, scratching at his neck sheepishly. You nod, casting a glance over your shoulder and stepping onto your porch.

“What’s up?” you ask, heart fluttering in your chest as he hesitantly raises the flowers in hand.

“These are for you. I’m sorry if Jimin offended you, he has a way with words.” he winces because Jimin truly was a menace and the main reason a lot of she-wolves steered clear of him.

“Thank you, he was a little harsh but I’m a big girl and I can handle it.” His heart breaks a little and his anger simmers, he swears he’ll make Jimin regret hurting you.

“Still, he didn't have a right to, and thank you for the muffins they were really good.” he smiles a dimple winking out, that makes you internally sigh because gosh darnit he was super cute.

“I’m glad you liked them, it was a thank you for taking care of me.” you mutter warmth rushing to your cheeks.

“I, I was wondering if maybe you’d like to go out sometime?” he asks, skin flushed gaze glued to the floor. Your skin heats further, you must’ve heard him wrong.

“I’m, s-sorry?” you stutter.

“Would you like to go out sometime?” he asks again feeling embarrassed, maybe Jungkook had been wrong after all.

“Like, a, a, d-date?” you squeak, almost certain you’re about to faint.

“Yeah, like a date, I, I’m sorry maybe I should just -”

“NO! I mean yes of course I’d love to go on a date!” you scream, embarrassment washing over you at the sheer volume you’d used legs suddenly feeling like jelly.

“Great, how does Saturday sound? Seven okay?” he asks, excitement leaking into his tone as you stutter out a confirmation. His smile widens turning on his heel and tripping down your steps, barely catching himself before throwing a smile you way once more, saturday can’t come quick enough.

Jimin and Jungkook laugh in the bushes nearby having watched the whole ordeal. Similarly Yoongi and your cousin muffle their laughter belly aching at just how awkwardly comical the two of you were.

*

Six months later ~

“I can’t believe Jimin made me think Monie was a dog.” you laugh wrapping your arms around Namjoon.

“Please don't remind me, I will never live that down.” he murmurs into the crown of your head. He’s holding you close, the wall of his kitchen are painted the early morning strawberry of the sky, giving way to the mango and blueberry that come after the near crack of dawn, and everything feels perfect. You’re wearing his shirt, all warm, sleep still clouding your eyes but no less love drunk than yesterday. He takes a deep breath swaying the two of you to a silent tune, you smell of mint and chocolate, a weird mix but also of home.

[middleofnowhere92]

@imnotginnyweasly requested Ty Luko for my ATLA Valentine’s Day one shots I got so excited to write my fav OTP my hand slipped and it’s gonna be a two shot. Chapter two will be up soon. 

The Worst Morning After (Chapter 1)

Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Ty Lee/Zuko (Avatar), Ty Lee & Zuko (Avatar) Additional Tags: Morning After, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Modern Era Summary: Ty Lee and Zuko wake up together. It goes downhill from there.

Read on ao3 or below the cut

Notes: It might seem implied that they had sex, but we'll find out if anything happened in chapter 2.

Ty Lee blinked awake as the sun starting to filter in through the blinds. Well, she tried to blink awake. Her mascara had effectively glued her eye shut. She sniffed the air. This didn't smell like her Bath and Body Works air freshener. This place smelled like mahogany, maybe? She rubbed at her eyes and was finally able to get them open. She glanced around. Yeah, she definitely hadn't made it home last night. The bedroom was sparse. A few traditional Fire Nation art works hung on the walls. At least this guy had a clean room, or was it a girl? Geez, she must have had a few last night. Well, either way, it didn’t really matter. It was time to go. She scanned the bedroom one more time. Her dress was on the floor by the door, but where in the Spirits were her shoes...

The person shifted next to her in bed. Shit! She had missed her window to escape. Ty Lee was pretty good with people, but sometimes she just wanted to hit and run. She wasn’t in the mood to tell her life story. She should just leave now before they fully woke up. The only problem was her dress was all the way over there… She chewed at her lip trying to figure a way out of this.

Suddenly, the other person got up and out of bed. She screwed her eyes shut to feign sleep. She heard their footsteps walk away, followed by a door shutting and the shower turning on. Perfect! This is the opportunity she needed.

She bounced up and out of bed, the cool air making her very awake. She scurried over to her dress. She picked up the pink glittery number and started to wiggle in. She forgot how tight this stupid thing was. She bounced up and down, the floor boards creaking, as she pulled the dress over her thighs. The fabric finally bent to her will and she was able to pull it all the way up. She bit her lip as she twisted her arm in an inhumane way to pull the zipper up.

She pulled and pulled, but the zipper wouldn’t budge. She sucked in as much as she could and it finally pulled up. She spun around looking for her pink glittery heels. They had to be in here somewhere. She glanced to the other person’s side of the bed, but nope. There was just a pair of black jeans crumpled on the floor.

Okay, it was time for her to go further into this person’s living place in her quest. She pressed her ear to the door for any sign of roommates. She heard nothing, so she took a deep breath and opened the door as slowly and quietly as she could. She poked her head out, looking each way before opening the door fully.

She tip toed out into the apartment, scanning for the pink glittery shoes. They were six inch heels for Spirits’ sake. They shouldn’t be that hard to find, especially in this neutral decor situation. This apartment was actually really nice and modern. A little too blah for her taste, but definitely nice. She slunk through the kitchen and hurriedly crossed to the living room, when she spotted them next to the couch. She grinned gleefully as she hopped on one foot as she shoved the other in her heel.

Once both heels were on, she decided this was the perfect opportunity for escape. She stepped on the balls of her feet to avoid her heels hitting the floor. She made a plan to call an Uber as soon as she got in the hallway, except… She huffed her bangs out of her face. Where in the spirits was her phone?

Okay, she just had to be quick. Get it and get out. She hurriedly teetered in her heels across the apartment looking for her phone case covered in pink rhinestones. It had to be around here somewhere. She crammed her small hands in the couch, not feeling anything. She groaned, but scampered through the kitchen, looking over the counter top. She was about to head back to the bedroom, when she turned back to the kitchen, grabbed a bag of fireflakes and then continued with her mission. She could never pass on fireflakes.

She stepped in the bedroom and narrowed her eyes in search of her phone. She shook out the comforter, but no luck. She picked up the pillows, but couldn’t find anything. She looked on the desk, side of the bed, but came up empty. Finally she decided to look under the bed.

She wiggled under the bed. At least it was clean under here too. She saw the glimmer of her bedazzled phone even in the darkness under the bed. She reached her arm out and she hit her phone, sending it sliding across the hardwood floor. She wiggled further under the bed stretching her arm out, if she just had longer fingers. She made grabby hands, but the phone stayed just out of her reach. She was so focused on getting her phone, she was startled when someone cleared their throat and in a raspy voice asked, “Uh, do you need help?” She let out a light scream at the fright, her head bouncing up and hitting the bed frame.

“Oww!” She groaned. This person had the audacity to snort at her predicament. She glowered, “Are you laughing at me?” They answered breathily, “No…” as they failed to keep their laughter out of their voice. She glared up at them through the mattress. They offered, “Uh, do you need me to pull you out?” She rolled her eyes, “Absolutely not! I can-” As she shimmied out from her under the bed, her extremely tight dress chose that exact moment to rip from the bottom to the middle of her back.

As she heard the loud tear of the fabric, she realized what happened and wanted to burst into tears. This by far was the worst, most awkward, humiliating morning after she had ever endured. She let her head thunk against the hardwood floor,  wishing it would swallow her up. It’s not like she had any dignity left anyway. She sniffled and Raspy Voice interjected, “Oh, um don’t cry. It’s okay. We’ll get you out.” Couldn’t they just be quiet? She didn’t need to be reminded that there was a witness to the least graceful moment of her life.

She shoved herself out of the bed. When she got out she huffed and sat on the floor, her back against the bed. She glanced around, but the other person wasn’t there. They stepped back into the room and Ty Lee tried her best not to stare. He gave her a small smile and handed her a red towel, “Uh, here you can, uh, shower if you want.” He went to the dresser, “You can wear some of my stuff, it might be a little big, but, um-” “It’ll be better than this right?” She asked as she wrapped the towel around her waist to cover the giant rip in her dress.

He gave her the same tight lipped smile, “Uh, yeah.” He gestured to the door off his bedroom, “Bathroom’s over there.” She thanked him and then slunk into the bathroom to escape the awkwardness. Well, he by far was the prettiest person she had ever gone home with. Sure he had a large scar over the left side of his face, but he was really really good looking. In the brief glimpse that she had gotten, she had noticed how tall and built he was. His wet black hair had been thrown up in a top knot,  a few pieces hanging down in his face. He had just been wearing sweats and a v-neck, but you could still see the muscular build underneath and the tattoos that crawled down his arms.

She cleared her head of the thoughts and cranked the shower on, turning the water as hot as possible. She looked in the steamy mirror to see her gray eyes surrounded in smudged glitter and eyeshadow, giving her the appearance of a raccoon in drag. Her braid was frizzy and her baby hairs were a mess. She looked like shit. Guess she wouldn’t be seeing this guy again. She dropped the towel, then her dress and undid her braid.

She stepped in the hot water, letting it scald her. She closed her eyes, feeling the hot water wash away her sins from the night before. She leaned her head back letting her thick hair become absorbed and heavy with water. She turned, scrubbing the mess of makeup off her face. She stayed in the shower until the hot water ran out, attempting to avoid the inevitable.

She reluctantly stepped out of the shower, wrapping the towel around herself. She put some tooth paste on her finger and got rid of the taste of last night. She poked her head out and found the bedroom empty, but a black pair of boxer briefs, a worn Blink 182 t-shirt, a black Thrasher hoodie and a pair of black sweats were laid out on the bed. At least he was kind of nice, she thought to herself. She dried herself and hung the towel up. She heard voices on the other side of the door, one being the hot guy from earlier and the other sounded like a woman on speaker phone.

The girl asked, “So how’d it go last night Sparky? Finally get some?” The guy snorted, “Can we not talk about this?” His friend brushed it off, “Give me something juicy! It’s literally the only reason I called you.”  The guy sounded like he was shuffling around in the kitchen as he responded, “I thought you were gonna let me know whose place we were doing your Anti-Valentine's day at later.” The other person answered, “Well duh, your place obviously.” Raspy Voice answered, “Spirits no! There’s pink glitter all over the place.” The other voice answered, “Glitter! What in the Spirits did you take home with you last night?” The guy awkwardly cleared his throat and said, “The line’s breaking up! I can’t hear you. Gotta go. Bye!”

Ty Lee bit her lip to keep her laugh in. He seemed like a nice enough guy. His words reminded her that right, today was Valentine's Day. The sun had barely risen, but this day was even worse than the Valentine's day that Haru had broken up with her. Last night, she had gone out for a fun night with Aang and Suki to forget that they were single, but it had somehow spiraled into the disaster of a situation she was currently in. She shook her head and put on his borrowed clothes. She finger combed her thick, impossibly long hair, but she didn’t have the energy to attempt to braid it right this minute. She braced herself and opened his bedroom door.  His back was turned to her as he opened and closed kitchen cabinets.

Even though she hadn’t made any noise, he seemed to sense her. He called over his shoulder, “I got your phone out from under the bed. It’s on the charger.” He pointed to it with an empty cereal box, that he then tossed in the recycling. She bounced over and saw the many, many missed calls and text messages from Suki and Aang. She groaned thinking about all the questions she would have to deal with the next time she saw them. And she spotted her bag of fireflakes from earlier, perched right next to her phone. She snuck the little bag into the hoodie pocket.

The guy looked over at her and asked, “Wanna come get breakfast with me?” She looked at him wide eyed like a deer startled by a hunter, “Oh, I don’t want to intrude.” She couldn’t possibly go out in public like this . She was already horrified that he had seen her without make up, looking like a half dead zombie. She couldn’t have anyone else witness how utterly disgusting she looked. He just shrugged, “I was gonna go anyway, since I have nothing to eat here.”

Oh. So he didn’t really want her to come. That was fine. She couldn't blame him. She tried to answer in a nonchalant tone, “I ordered my Uber. I should really head home.” He turned to finally look at her. She had never felt so self conscious, his golden eyes seemed to be able to see every flaw in her appearance, as he took in her disheveled form. She became weirdly embarrassed as he glanced down at her pink glitter painted toes. He walked away and answered, “My half sister left some crocs here. They’ll probably fit you.” He came back holding a pair of white crocs that did actually look like they would fit.

She slipped into them and his oversized long sweatpants cascaded over them. She looked up at him sheepishly, feeling a pink blush tint her cheeks, “I guess I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.” She unplugged her phone and scooped up her heels while he grabbed a burgundy hoodie. She followed him out of the apartment and down the stairs. The cold February air gave Ty Lee a chill. She tucked her long damp hair into the hood and pulled it up.  He glanced at her, “Oh, fuck. Sorry. I should have given you a hat or something.”

The two stood there in awkward silence. Ty Lee turned staring off into the distance praying this Uber would get here soon. Couldn’t this guy just walk wherever he was going and leave her to sulk in her walk/ride of shame?

Thankfully, the Spirits took pity on her and her ride pulled up. She gave Hot Guy a small nod, not wanting to really acknowledge him and her embarrassment,  and then got in. As the driver pulled away, he began chattering about his cabbage farming business. Ty Lee stared out the window, trying to forget this terrible morning. She opened the bag of fireflakes for comfort as they got further and further away from the scene of her horrifying morning.

[star-spangled-eyes]

Winner Take All: Part 3: The Name

This alternate universe fan fiction uses characters created and owned by Pixelberry Studios. Character names, descriptions and likenesses are owned by Pixelberry Studios. The MC, Bragnae Bennett, and story is created and owned by this author.

Book: The Royal Romance (Alternate Universe)

Alternate Universe Theme: Senior Year of College for Drake, Leo, Bragnae and Madeleine in the United States  

Pairing: Drake Walker x MC / Leo Reese x MC (Bragnae Bennett – *pronounced Brawn-yah)

Warnings for this series: NSFW, Adult content, suggestive and strong language, sex

Series Description: Bragnae Bennett sought adventure when she first went off to college. Now, navigating through her senior year, she finds herself befriending two gorgeous guys, Drake Walker and Leo Reese, who engage in a seemingly innocent bet with her during a game of pool that leads to a surprising threesome.

Their intimate evening prompts deeper feelings than they all expected to arise, and Bragnae is suddenly swept up in both of their charms, unique to each man himself. Through the pressures of college, work and maintaining a social life, which man will prevail and win Bragnae's heart?

Master List

A/N: Oooh man! I am really enjoying this series so far! Why do I love Love Triangles? Sheesh! I really enjoyed writing this part and can’t wait for the next. I hope you enjoy, and thank you so much for reading!

Warnings for this chapter: NSFW, Adult content, suggestive and strong language

Word Count for this chapter: 3567 

Setting for this chapter: Drake and Bragnae watch a movie together, and sparks fly…

Permatags: @burnsoslow @cora-nova @dcbbw @thorfosterlove @emceesynonymroll @edgiestwinter @of-course-i-went-to-hartfeld @msjr0119 @notoriouscs @drakewalker04​ @pedudley​ @desiree-0816 @choices-lurker​ @kingliam2019​ @loveellamae​ @drakexnadira @flutistbyday2020​ @indiana-jr​ @moonlightgem7​

Series Tags: @yukinagato2012​ @marshmallowsaremyfavorite​ @nomadics-stuff​ @ravenpuff02​ @texaskitten30​ @themadhatter1029​ @randomfandomteacher​ @queenjilian​ @princessleac1​

Part 3: The Name

Heat rose on the back of Bragnae’s neck as she looked at Drake standing in her doorway. He was so handsome in every way. Tall, muscular, hair casually styled but somehow still irresistible.

“Hi, Drake. Come on in.” She stood to the side to let him in, closing the door behind him.

“I, uh, brought some beer. Thought it’d go well with the pizza.” He took two out of the cardboard case, setting them on the counter before putting the rest in the fridge.

“That’s great. Thanks. Bottle opener’s in the drawer next to the fridge.” She walked over to the cabinet retrieving two plates. “I brought home a meat lovers. Figured that’d be okay.”

Drake popped the caps off of both beers, handing her one. “That’s actually my favorite.” His fingers brushed against hers as she took the bottle from him. A shiver went down her spine.

“Well, that worked out,” she said smiling as she clinked her bottle against his. “Cheers.”

He smirked before lifting the bottle to his lips for a swig. His eyes lingered on hers for a moment, a residual smile still hanging on his lips. Drake opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something, but looked away instead taking another drink. “Should we eat?”

So, it was awkward after all. Bragnae knew they might have to work through this obstacle after last night, but couldn’t help but hope they could roll right past it.

“Uh, yeah.” She put the plates and a few napkins on top of the pizza box and carried it over to the coffee table in the living room. Drake brought her beer over for her, setting it down on the table before taking a seat on the couch.

Bragnae turned the television on and immediately opened the Netflix app. “Any preference on what we should watch?” She continued to scroll through the options as she waited for his response.

“I trust your judgment. Whatever you pick is fine.” Drake leaned back on the couch. She could feel his eyes on her making her feel a bit tense. Not that she didn’t want him to look at her, but there was an undefined energy in the room between them, and it felt weird.

Drake had been her friend since last semester when they first met in their English Composition class. They immediately got along, and any time they hung out, things were easy going, playful and flirty at times, but it wasn’t ever awkward like this. Of course, she understood why it was now. Just 24 hours ago, he had seen her naked, kissed her, held her body against his as he intimately connected with her. Those were all things that would certainly shake things up.

Their friendship went in a completely new direction, and there was no coming back from it. Bragnae thought since Drake asked to hang out tonight that he had a plan for not making things awkward, or not letting what transpired between them last night get in the way of their friendship. Now, she had no idea what was happening. Maybe it was too soon to hang out.

Drake had given her carte blanche on the movie. She would pick something she knew, something safe. Something without any sex scenes or love to avoid any more uncomfortable tension than there already was. She spotted The Hangover, and decided a comedy would be best to lighten the mood.

“Good choice,” he said before opening the pizza box and grabbing a slice.

“Yeah, it’s a classic.” She pulled a piece onto her plate as well, and got comfortable on the sofa sitting cross legged. There was at least a foot of space between them.

Thirty minutes into the movie, they had enjoyed the pizza, nearly demolishing the whole thing while occasionally laughing at the movie. At the same time that Drake shifted to put his empty beer bottle on the table, Bragnae unfolded her legs making them touch. The split second physical interaction was still enough to give her goosebumps. He glanced at her quickly before clearing his throat and moving a few inches away from her.

Bragnae exhaled a somewhat frustrated breath. “Okay, can we talk about this?” She paused the movie, and turned to look at him.

“What?” His eyes full of alarm with the sudden silence in the room.

“The elephant in the room.” She paused only for a moment. “About last night. I assume you’re thinking about it, too?”

Drake sighed. “Yep.”

A breath of relief left her body. At least he was being honest about it. “It definitely… changed things. I mean, it’s usually not this weird between us when we hang out.”

“No, it’s not.” He wet his lips, turning away as his eyes dropped to the ground. “I’m sorry. This is all my fault.”

“What do you mean?” She hoped he didn’t regret what happened because she didn’t.

He took a deep breath before pivoting his body on the couch to face her. “After last night… well, things did change for me. I… I really enjoyed being with you.” He swallowed, watching her reaction carefully.

“I did too, Drake.”

His brow relaxed hearing her words. “I wanted to hang out tonight so I could tell you that I didn’t agree to the three way just for some sexual conquest.” His eyes bore into hers. “I did it because of you. I wanted to know what it felt like to be with you even if Leo had to be there.”

An involuntary smile crept over her lips as she took in his words. “What happened last night was so not like me. I never thought I’d ever engage in a threesome with two guys. Like, ever. But you two were hard to resist.”

He looked down at the sofa, his forehead creased as he thought to himself. “It wasn’t my intention to disrupt our friendship over this, so I hope we can move past it.”

I wonder what he means by that. Did he get his fill of her, and now he wants things to go back to the way it was before they slept together? She wasn’t ready for that. “I’m curious about something.” He lifted his eyebrows, looking at her expectantly. “If you wanted to know what it was like to be with me, why didn’t you try to do something about it before last night? I mean, why wait for an opportunity where you’d have to share me with someone else?”

Drake sighed before pursing his lips together. “I guess… I never worked up the nerve.” His eyes searched her face, casually trailing down her body before rising up again. “When we first met, you were dating some guy. I liked you then, but even after you stopped seeing him, I wanted to give you space. And by that time, we’d been hanging out a lot, I introduced you to Leo, and I thought you saw me as only a friend. So, I didn’t push it.”

“That makes sense,” she nodded. “Can I ask you something else?” He gestured for her to continue. “Have you and Leo done something like that before with another woman? I only ask because you two seemed rather comfortable and organized with it all.”

A hesitant smile transformed his lips. “We have. Only once before. It was about a year ago.”

“Oh.” She couldn’t say she was surprised to hear that, but part of her felt like knowing his past made her experience with them seem less meaningful. She had to be real with herself. It was a threesome. She didn’t expect them to express their undying love to her. It was supposed to be casual and fun. But she couldn’t help but feel a twinge of disappointment that she was just another girl in a routine they had practiced before. However, Drake made it clear earlier that it wasn’t about the threesome itself. It was about her, but it still felt a bit… cheap.

“I hope you don’t think less of me knowing that.” He dipped his head down to meet her fallen gaze.

“No, of course not. I mean, I was a willing participant in a three way, too. How could I judge someone for doing that? It was… amazing, and fun. I can’t blame you for wanting to partake in something like that when the opportunity presents itself.”

“Well, it’s not something I make a habit out of. The first time we did it, we were both really drunk, and we had met this girl at a party who suggested it to us. Being guys, we weren’t going to turn it down.” He paused, his expression turning to something deeper. “And when Leo brought it up last night as part of the bet, I thought for sure you’d say no, but I was really hoping you wouldn’t. It wasn’t like the first time we did it. It was different, like I said, because of you. There’s a reason why I wanted you to face me, Bennett. I wanted that connection with you.”

Bragnae was taken aback by his confession. It meant so much to her knowing Drake looked at their sexual experience as more than just a chance to get off. She placed a gentle hand on his knee. His eyes were immediately drawn to her touch. “I wanted that too… with you. And I felt it. You were so tender and caring.” She swallowed. “It was really nice for me.”

Drake covered her hand with his. “I’m glad.” His hand slid up her arm, simultaneously pulling her towards him as he leaned in to brush his soft lips against hers. The stubble on his chin lightly scraping against her skin.

It felt like the night prior all over again when he kissed her. Normally, he was such a tough and rugged guy, but when he kissed her, there was a certain gentleness that poured out of his lips making her melt against him. She cupped his cheek as their kiss deepened. After another moment, he drew back slowly holding her gaze.

He smiled softly. “I’m going to grab another beer. Do you want one?”

“I actually wanted another kiss, but a beer sounds good, too.” She chuckled through her nose.

Lightly grabbing her chin, he pulled her into another quick kiss before getting off the sofa. “You’re something else, Bennett.” She watched him walk away, her eyes admiring how his legs and ass filled in his light-wash jeans. He grabbed two more beers from the fridge, removed the caps and headed back to the couch.

“Hey, why do you call me Bennett?” She asked, taking the bottle from him. For as long as she’d known him, he’d always called her by her last name. They were laying everything on the table tonight, so she thought she’d ask.

Drake laughed a little. “Well, it’s sort of embarrassing.” He sat down, closer to her this time, their legs brushing against one another as he stretched an arm across the back of the sofa in her direction.

“Well, I have to hear this. Why is it embarrassing?” She shifted a little closer to him.

He took a drink, grinning to himself before looking at her again. “If you’ll recall, we were paired up in English class to do that peer review for our paper. Mind you, I already thought you were hot, but I hadn’t had a chance to talk to you yet. So, when the professor assigned us together, I was excited because I’d finally get to talk to you and learn your name.”

Bragnae smiled, remembering the day he was describing. She was also thrilled the teacher put them together. After all, it had brought them to this moment.

He took another drink. “I was trying to be casual about it and not seem too eager, so I thought I’d just figure it out once you gave me your paper. And then… I looked down and saw the weirdest fucking name I’d ever seen.”

Bragnae laughed out loud. “Yeah, you can thank my parents for that.”

He smirked at her before continuing. “I had no idea how to pronounce your first name. Not even one clue. And in an attempt not to embarrass myself by trying to say it or worse, asking you how to say it,” he paused, giving her a look. “I know, I’m apparently an overgrown child who can’t ask pretty girls simple questions.” He shrugged as he continued. “So, I just decided to call you by your last name the next time I saw you. Bennett – easy enough. Plus, it sounded casual, and I wanted you to see me as this cool guy who didn’t give a fuck if you wanted to talk to me or not. Even though I really wanted you to.”

She shook her head, still giggling. “You are a complicated man, you know that? Didn’t you hear the teacher say my name before?” She looked at him incredulously.

His eyes widened as he shook his head. “Nope. I was either not paying attention, or didn’t quite catch it when she said it.”

“I don’t think you’ve ever called me Bragnae.”

Drake put the beer bottle on the coffee table, so he could rest his hand on her knee. “It just became a habit after that. But I will say this. When I heard how your first name was actually pronounced, I thought it was the most beautiful name in the whole world.”

She beamed. “Thank you. I love my name. It’s Celtic, super old, and the spelling is crazy, but it’s totally me.”

“It sure is.” His fingers traced gentle circles a few inches above her knee, his eyes concentrating on the path his fingers took.

Bragnae’s breath quickened and her heart beat faster as she reveled in his touch. A tingle warmed her core as the room felt very quiet, but comfortable all of a sudden. She took a subtle deep breath, adjusting her body closer to his.

He looked up at her again, his fingers still working a slow dance over her thigh, inching their way up casually. His deep voice was low and calm when he spoke. “Do you want me to call you by your first name?”

Bragnae put her beer on the side table next to the couch. “It depends. I don’t know what it sounds like coming from you.”

Drake leaned in, his face inches from hers. “Allow me to enlighten you then, Bragnae.”

A shiver shot down her spine as goosebumps covered her skin. There was something so sexy about hearing a man use her name, especially a man who she really liked. “I like it. My name sounds nice over your tongue.”

Drake broke into an irresistibly wicked smirk. His eyes flicked to her lips. “I can do other nice things with my tongue, ya know.”

Bragnae gently bit her lower lip. “Prove it.”

The hand that teased her leg moved to rest on her waist, while the other shifted to the base of her neck drawing her in as he met her halfway. Drake took her mouth ardently, pressing his lips against her in such a way that left her breathless. The passion of the moment prompted her to part her mouth to him. His tongue glided over her bottom lip before sliding inside to sensually stroke hers.

She ran a hand through his soft brown hair as the strength in his arm pulled her in close. As his tongue momentarily retreated, hers followed after. Drake closed his mouth around her tongue gently sucking on hers prompting Bragnae to moan in delight. As he released her, his teeth nipped at her bottom lip before pulling back.

Bragnae’s eyes took a second to open again as her mind left the blissful trance his kiss led her into. “You were right.”

He grinned. “Did you really doubt me?”

“If I did, that was a mistake.” She pulled him in this time, connecting their mouths once more. Heat began to rise throughout her entire body. Kissing him just wasn’t enough. Keeping their connection intact, Bragnae pushed Drake back against the sofa and straddled him.

He groaned as she rested her weight on top of him. His hands ran down her back resting on her butt, while she hungrily took his mouth. Her insistence captured his attention. She felt him pull her hips into him causing her to break their kiss as a gasping moan escaped her lungs. He placed hot kisses on her neck as she caught her breath. She could feel the stiffness in his jeans between her legs, and it reminded her of how wonderful he felt last night. And she needed to feel that again.

She panted his name before returning her lips to his. After another heated moment and just before Bragnae was going to remove her top, Drake pulled back.

“We should probably stop, Bennett,” he said breathlessly.

She blinked at him in confusion. “Why? I think the cat’s out of the bag, Drake.”

He swallowed, taking a second to look at her body on top of his with admiration. “Look, it’s not like I don’t want to – because I really do, but I just don’t want you to think this is just about sex for me. It’s more than that. And maybe we should take this slow.”

Bragnae sat back feeling rejected and like she did something wrong. “Drake, you’ve been inside me. And I liked it. So, why do you want to take it slow now?”

His expression softened as he raised a gentle hand to her cheek, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. “Last night was a different story. I just think you deserve better. That’s all.”

Frustrated and still confused, Bragnae crawled back to her seat.

“Bennett, I’m sorry. I didn’t come here with the intention to sleep with you tonight because I didn’t want you to think that’s all I was after.”

She couldn’t help but feel dejected over this sudden change, but a part of her understood where he was coming from. She didn’t necessarily want a relationship based solely on sex. A meaningful, healthy relationship was what she craved, but she also intensely desired to be with Drake again. She already knew she liked him and his personality, so what was the big deal? The night was going so well. Why did this happen?

“It’s okay, Drake.” It took all of her strength to look at him without hurt in her eyes. “I understand why, and I appreciate your honesty.” She exhaled a sharp breath looking away.

He put his hand on top of hers in an effort to console her, which made her mad for some reason. Now, she felt like a person only in it for sex, and he was just letting her down easily. Rejection sucks. She thought she made it clear that she liked him too. Having him stare at her in this uncomfortable silence was becoming unbearable.

“I think I’m going to go to bed now.” She looked at him with no emotions, so they couldn’t betray her.

He looked surprised at first, but then nodded. “Okay. I guess I’ll head out, then.” He stood up and headed for the door. She walked with him not wanting Drake to feel like she was completely ignoring him. He opened the door and went to take a step, but looked back at Bragnae instead. “I… I didn’t mean to make you feel bad. I promise my intentions were better than that.”

The sincerity in his dark eyes was hard to ignore. “I believe you. Thank you, Drake.”

He leaned in to kiss her on the cheek. “Can I call you soon?”

She nodded in agreement. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Bragnae.” She inhaled a sharp breath as he said her name before leaving her apartment. She closed the door and leaned her back against it.

She knew Drake was a good guy – very respectful, but she just didn’t understand why he wanted them to stop. She felt his desire for her, and she sure as hell wanted to be with him again. Why didn’t he just give into what he knew they both wanted?

Feeling overwhelmed with emotion and disappointment, Bragnae went to bed.

The next morning, she was awoken by a text. It was half past ten, and she had slept in. Blinking her eyes awake, she grabbed her phone to see a message from Leo.

Hey, pretty lady. Wanna meet me at the quad today? Say, around noon? It’s a beautiful day. Maybe we can practice some self-defense moves.

Bragnae giggled at the Kung Fu Panda GIF he’d sent with the text. She shot off a reply letting him know she’d be there, also noticing she didn’t have any other calls or texts from Drake. Remembering he was working this morning, she figured he didn’t have the time anyway. Or maybe he didn’t want to talk to her. She felt a bit embarrassed after last night, and regretted sending him home just because he didn’t want to sleep with her. How childish. She’d make sure to reach out to him later on to let him know how sorry she was.

But first, she needed to get showered and dressed to meet Leo. He always made her laugh, and she was in desperate need of that today.

[brieflygorgeouss]

Hiii, i love your writing ❤️ im waiting patiently for updates on your fic. But........ number 12 for the prompts bc i like angst

12. “please don’t do this” (you wanted angst, so here it is :’) part 2 of this is coming in a separate post!)

Lucas has made a mistake.

When it comes down to it, the whole thing is pretty simple. Lucas tries not to pay it much attention. In his day to day life, there’s very little space for those kinds of things. See, Lucas is a science guy, not a feelings guy. He likes facts, and undeniable truths, something he can lean on, knowing that it’s not just his own heart messing with him.

But then, sometimes there’s this — Eliott will turn his head just right when they’re hanging out in the park with everyone else, and the sunlight will catch in his hair. They’ll catch a glimpse of each other in the hallway and he’ll smile at Lucas with this horrible, breathtaking smile of his like it’s nothing. He’ll draw something on a napkin while they’re waiting for their coffee orders at Starbucks, then give it to Lucas, just because.

And in those moments, Lucas always thinks — maybe his heart is playing tricks, after all. If the way it stutters and aches is anything to go by.

*

Lucas has made a mistake and here it is — a throwback to three months ago. Lucas is standing in Eliott’s living room, late at night after they’ve just finished watching some weird Spanish movie, with his hair in his eyes and his heart in his throat, and he’s saying, ”I’m in love with you.”

Eliott is wearing an old t-shirt that hangs loosely enough around his neck to show his collar bones, and his hair is messy from where he kept running his hands through it. His eyes are huge. For a second, he looks at Lucas like he doesn’t believe him, and then he looks like he does believe him and something in his eyes lights up, burns like a flare and then dies down again. He’s turning to Lucas, in the next moment. Then, he’s saying, ”Listen, Lucas, I— I’m not—” and then, turning his eyes away, quieter, ”Please don’t do this.”

So. Fast forward to now — Lucas should have just stayed quiet.

*

”Hey,” Lucas hears from somewhere above him, ”I really like your jacket.”

When he lifts his head, there’s a guy standing by his table, with thick-rimmed glasses perched on his nose and a small smile on his lips. Lucas is about 70 percent sure he has seen him around the library before. They’ve caught each other’s eyes once or twice while sitting at neighbouring tables and run into one another by the lockers downstairs. If he remembers correctly, that is.

He says, kind of unsure, ”Oh. Thanks.”

”We’ve seen each other around before, right?” the guy voices Lucas’s thoughts, which, in turn, makes Lucas wonder, again, if they really had. Maybe the Glasses Guy had even introduced himself. Lucas can’t remember his name. ”I’ve been meaning to tell you, this jacket is so cool. And also your hair.”

Lucas is not sure what to say to that, so he just keeps smiling, a little plasticky. ”Thank you.”

”Would you mind if I joined you?” the Glasses Guy says, gesturing at the empty seat across from Lucas. 

”Uhm. I’m, actually. I’m kinda waiting for someone.”

There’s a beat of silence when they just keep looking at each other, Lucas having nothing else to add and the guy waiting for him to probably do so. 

”Oh,” he says after a few seconds, takes an awkward step back. ”I’ll leave you to it, then. Sorry.”

”See you around,” Lucas barely manages to get out, and then the guy is gone, just as quickly as he appeared in the first place. Lucas follows him with his eyes until he rounds the corner and disappears, then he lays his head on the table. It’s smooth under his cheek.

Then, a thumping noise startles him enough to sit back up.

Imane slides into the chair across from him, already busying herself with flipping through one of the approximately 50 books she brought with her, before saying, without lifting her gaze from the pages, ”You do realise that he was flirting with you, right?”

Lucas plays with the corner of his notebook’s cover. ”Yes,” he mutters. ”But I’m—you know. I’m here with you.”

He looks up at Imane just in time to see her roll her eyes, exasperated. ”It has nothing to do with that. You could have at least asked for his number or something.”

”Maybe I didn’t want his number,” Lucas says, and it comes out a little defensive. His phone buzzes with a notification so he busies himself with that instead of looking at Imane’s questioning expression. ”Maybe I’m not interested.”

”Lucas,” Imane says, this time looking straight at him and he can feel the weight of her eyes somewhere on his face. He locks his phone, then unlocks it, locks it again, just to pretend to be doing something. ”It’s really not my business, but he was exactly the type of guys you usually go for.”

Yeah, Lucas thinks, puts his phone away, screen down. Tall and messy-haired and smiling at strangers. Lucas knows this, and Imane knows this just as well. When he looks at her, the disappointed lines of her face clear as day, he knows what she’ll say even before she says it.

”You have to try to move on,” Imane tells him. It sounds softer than what Lucas was expecting. Imane’s eyes are soft, too, like Lucas rarely gets to see, dim with something he doesn’t want to think too much about. 

Lucas thinks, I know. I know.

It’s not like he hasn’t been trying. It’s not like he’s too stubborn to make this kind of effort. After Eliott turned him down, he hid away for a moment, turned off his phone and locked himself in his room until Manon and Mika almost drove him nuts with their constant knocking on the door and are you feeling better’s but right now, he’s all good. The past is the past. Lucas really tries his best to not think too much about how Eliott’s expression looked when he confessed, or how he could barely look Lucas in the eye at all, or how Lucas has spent the entire walk home stubbornly wiping his tears away that night, even though they just kept and kept coming.

Those are all his memories, his and no one else’s, but he doesn’t want them. Revisiting that would be like poking at a bruise — causing unnecessary pain. Not letting a wound heal fully like it should.

And that’s what Lucas has been doing. Healing. He just needs some time.

”I have moved on,” he says stubbornly, not wanting to hear any more of Imane’s too-soft tone, then thinks, I am moving on. I am. ”Anyway, can we get started?”

He gestures to the books that Imane has brought. She shoots him another look, one that lasts a second too long, but then just nods without any further comments.

For the next two hours, they talk about something else.

*

On Saturday, the sweltering heat finally dies down to something resembling nice breezy summer. Lucas wakes up to sunlight filtering through the curtains and specks of dust swirling in the air where they’re visible in the light. He drags himself out to the kitchen, and it’s early enough for no-one else to be up yet, so he makes himself a coffee and a sandwich and takes the breakfast to the balcony, just because he feels like it. There’s a dog barking somewhere, and a few cars driving by. He can hear someone laughing, sharp and bright and quick.

Then, his phone buzzes with a text notification.

It is, because that’s just Lucas’s life, from Eliott. hi, it reads, are you free tonight?

Lucas is. He doesn’t want to say he’s always free for Eliott because he isn’t supposed to think that way anymore, but somewhere in the back of his head, it rings true whether he likes it or not. 

sure, he texts back. want to hang out?

Because, see — they’re still friends. They can still be friends. It’s what he told Eliott that awful night he confessed, after Eliott, beautiful and so, so gentle, turned him down, looking like he was about to cry himself. I don’t want to ruin what we have, Lucas had told him, sounding a little shaky, feeling a little like a child, silly and overdramatic and inexperienced. I’ll get over this. I promise I will.

He can’t blame Eliott for not loving him back. Love is not something you can force yourself to feel. And Eliott never asked for any of this, never asked for any of those messy, overwhelming feelings that Lucas just couldn’t keep a hold on. There was never a reason for Lucas to count on anything, really.

As he finishes up his coffee, he looks over the railing of the balcony. There are two girls in the middle of the sidewalk downstairs, talking about something as they walk. One of them is gesturing animatedly, and the other nods from time to time, and then Lucas watches as she, unexpectedly, catches the other girl’s hand in hers and presses a quick kiss to her knuckles. Her expression is fond, then only grows fonder when the other girl’s face creases up in a smile.

Lucas turns his eyes away.

There is a theory he’s spent a lot of time reading about, a theory that he likes. It’s about alternate universes. According to the theory, there’s an infinite amount of worlds just like this one, somewhere out there, only slightly different. Lucas likes to imagine them, sometimes, because it makes him feel at peace — a world where he still lives in his old house. A world where his parents never split up in the first place. A world where everything is the same, except his eyes are green instead of blue. 

i’ll pick you up at 9, Eliott writes back, and then sends another message. It’s a heart.

Lucas stares at it until the screen of his phone goes dark.

”You have to try to move on” is just a nice way of saying ”He’ll never love you back”. Lucas knows this. That’s okay. It feels a little pathetic, this whole ordeal, but then again, it’s been almost exactly three months since he confessed. He’s had enough time to swallow the hurt down. Bury it somewhere where no-one else would see. 

According to the multiverse theory, besides the universe where Lucas’s family stayed together or where his eyes are a different colour, there also must be a universe where, somehow, Eliott loves him back. 

It’s not a bad thought. If some other Lucas managed to get everything that this Lucas doesn’t have, then, well. Good for him. It’s not like Lucas is unhappy. He’s okay.

Three months is enough to get over someone. 

*

A throwback again, to the same time and the same place: Lucas thought he had a chance. He thought there was something in the air that night that made things possible. He came over to Eliott’s just to hang out like they’ve done times and times before. Eliott let Lucas pick the movie, then promptly retracted the offer when Lucas said, ”Can we watch Green Lantern?” and they ended up on the couch with a bowl of popcorn in Lucas’s lap and Eliott’s head leaning against Lucas’s shoulder. Eliott was busy explaining the individual shots that he really liked. Lucas was busy making comments and stuffing his face with popcorn and looking at Eliott instead of the actual film. It was nice. They were comfortable and close and talking in hushes voices, leaning into their shared space. Lucas thought he had a chance.

He never did, apparently.

*

At 9, when Lucas gets downstairs, trying to put on a jacket and simultaneously stuff his keys into the back pocket of his jeans, Eliott is already there. The sun has just gone down, and in the thinning out light, he looks like someone out of a dream. Lucas smiles when Eliott turns his head at the sound of the front door of the building opening, then closing. 

”Hi,” Eliott says, already grinning as well, and pushes himself away from the wall he was leaning against, then stuffs his hands into the pockets of his jacket, like he’s shy. Something quivers in Lucas’s chest and he smothers it.

”Hi,” he answers, looking up at where Eliott’s still smiling at him. ”So, what’s the plan?”

Eliott shrugs, then raises an eyebrow with a glint in his eyes. ”Let’s see where the night takes us?”

And Lucas, laughing a little, says, ”Okay,” and falls into step next to him as they go, shoulder to shoulder, almost close enough to brush.

In reality, not much has changed. That’s something Lucas is really proud of, actually. Apart from the first few awkward days where they acted around each other like strangers and a few sad moments Lucas has to swallow down every now and again, it’s almost like nothing ever happened. They joke around, and Lucas shoves Eliott away when he starts to make fun of how Lucas should probably get a haircut but refuses to, and then they get on a bus and sit in the seats right next to each other, their heads bent together. The whole bus is empty. Lucas keeps stealing glances at where Eliott’s profile reflects in the glass of the window.

This is exactly what Lucas doesn’t want to ruin. This — Eliott being so laid-back and relaxed around him, laughing freely, bright. In moments like these, Lucas feels more himself than he does anywhere else. He can’t afford to lose it, everything they have, how well they work together, just because he’s looking for the sun at midnight, just because he was stupid enough to fall in love.

And at one point, when he asks about one of Eliott’s art projects, Eliott suddenly whips his head around, and, eyes huge, says, as if enlightened, ”Oh my God. I know where I’m gonna take you.”

”Oh, yeah?” Lucas says, and then lets his smile widen a fraction. ”Let me guess, is it McDonald’s?”

”Shut up,” Eliott mutters, his own smile widening, too. ”That was only once.”

Lucas laughs, then, and looks and looks, at the curve of Eliott’s smile and at the slight colour high in his cheeks, until they get to the next stop and Eliott drags him out of the bus.

*

They only talked about the confession once, during a party at Emma’s, at the very end of their awkward phase. Lucas came out there to finally head home after moping in the corner for hours on end and spoiling his friends’ moods. Eliott was simply already there. They ended up sitting on the pavement with the party music pouring from the speakers from behind the closed front door, huddled close. Lucas remembers feeling relieved at the proximity, and also like someone punched him in the gut. 

”Do you have any idea,” Eliott asked him then, quiet under the night sky, sitting so close that Lucas was half-afraid he might do something stupid, ”what it’s like to be told that by someone like you?” And then, shaking his head, quieter, ”I don’t deserve that at all, Lucas. Not from you. I wouldn’t be good for you, you— you’re just so—”

Lucas said, then, unsure of how to respond but desperately wishing for things to just fall into place again, ”It’s okay, Eliott,” even though it wasn’t, even though it was nowhere near as easy. He kept thinking, why can’t you just tell me that you don’t feel the same?

”It’s not okay,” Eliott told him then, looking a little broken and so, so sad. ”I just—I wish it was different.”

Me, too, Lucas thought but didn’t say it.

”We’ll figure it out, Eliott,” he only said instead, proud of how sure he sounded even when did not feel like it as he got up, because it was time to go home. And even if there was something in Eliott’s gaze when their eyes met, something heavy and dim and unsettled, Lucas decided to write it off as a trick of the light. ”We will.”

*

They end up, somehow, in an art gallery.

Or something of sorts, anyway. Lucas doesn’t know why it’s still open and running at 9:30 at night, but it’s nice, he guesses, or as nice as an art gallery can get, anyway. There aren’t many people here, and Eliott claims that the exhibition is something he’s seen before and liked very much, so Lucas lets himself be taken by the hand and lead inside and only complains a little bit, just for show.

Eliott’s hand is warm in his, and for a second, Lucas allows himself a bluff. A what-if. Between one breath and then next, he can pretend they’re something else. Then, he moves his hand away first and ignores the look Eliott sends his way.

He doesn’t know much about art, arguably. He was never good at it, because, again — he’s a science guy. And there are many paintings here that he doesn’t understand, full of sharp lines and patches of colour, but they’re pretty. He stops in front of a painting of the sunrise, soft and full of light, full of blues and pinks and muted oranges and stands and just looks until Eliott finds him.

”What do you think?” he asks, stopping just shy of Lucas’s shoulder. He sounds curious but also a little nervous. Lucas doesn’t really understand why, so he just brushes it off.

”It’s nice, I guess,” he says, still looking at the painting, but then shifts his eyes onto Eliott and discovers that his expression is just as bright as the landscape on the canvas in front of him. ”I don’t know why you chose an art gallery as a form of entertainment for me, though. I’m not really big on places like that.”

”I’m aware,” Eliott chuckles, but then, startlingly, ducks his head and shrugs like he always does when he’s shy. ”But the first time I saw it, I thought of you, and—I wanted to bring you here. To see it, too.”

And—oh.

Lucas kind of just…stops. At that.

Because, you see — he’s been trying his best. He’s been careful and withdrawn and afraid, just a little, of reminding Eliott of what he’d said, of how he feels, when Eliott made it so, so clear that he doesn’t want that. That he doesn’t want whatever Lucas has to give, whatever Lucas took and tried to push into his hands that night three months ago, all of his crushing, throbbing feelings, this whole mess. And he’s been doing well. Most of the time, it’s almost like nothing ever happened. Lucas is okay. Lucas has been making progress. 

But every once in a while Eliott does or says something — texts him a heart or takes him by the hand or says ”Do you have some time” or ”I saw it and thought of you”, take him to look at art because it’s something he wants to share with Lucas and Lucas alone, and all the painstaking progress he has made goes teetering down, down and back to square one. 

Lucas doesn’t know how many times he’ll be able to take it. There is something lodged in his chest that suddenly makes breathing difficult. He thinks, I’m so stupid. So, so dumb.

Something must show on his face, or maybe he’s been quiet for too long, or maybe Eliott just knows him too well, because he asks, rocking on his feet, his voice tentative, ”Do you like it? Here, I mean?”

What does it matter to you, Lucas thinks, but swallows the words down, because they wouldn’t be fair. Eliott cares, is all. He knows that. They’re friends.

”I like it, yeah,” he answers instead, then watches another smile break across Eliott’s face, impossible, prettier than all the art in the room.

Lucas thinks back to the balcony, to the girls he saw on the sidewalk in the morning, to fond smiles and kisses pressed to knuckles, to feeling like he was intruding on something he had no right to, and feels like Eliott and his smile and this whole goddamn scene is another thing like that. Something stolen that does not belong to him. Something that is not meant to be his at all.

”I’m glad,” Eliott tells him. His words sound nothing but sincere.

They move onto another painting.

*

But maybe the truth is this — Lucas is tired of feeling like him being in love has become something to be ashamed of. Before, he’d thought that now when Eliott knew, maybe the feeling of it all would lessen, would become less biting, simmer down to friendship again, but it didn’t. It’s still there, no matter what he does, whether he covers it up or screams it from the rooftops, and he’s tired of hiding something everyone knows about anyway.

It’s not fair, pretending he never confessed, when it took so much courage and strength and nerve. 

*

It’s not much of a revelation, really, but Lucas can’t help but feel very, very dumb. He meets up with Imane again and can barely look at her, keeps thinking, you were right, you were right as always. He goes to class, and to work, and spends the evenings lying on the couch, watching reruns of old TV shows with Mika and Lisa arguing over whose turn it is to choose the channel this time. It’s not bad. The acute awareness of I’m still in love doesn’t change much. 

Except when Eliott texts him now, he barely even answers and doesn’t pick up when he calls and lies that he’s busy when Manon suggests that they all go out together. It’s awful, and it makes him feel guilty and like a failure, but he doesn’t know what else to do. It’s all he has left, he tells himself, because Eliott is not his to have. He’s been reading too much into his smiles, and his soft touch, and how bright his eyes get sometimes, into little drawings on coffee cups and text messages saying, let me know when you get home safe.

It’s just how Eliott is. And if Lucas can’t do anything about his stupid wishful thinking, if what Eliott can offer is not enough for him, then maybe it’s better if he doesn’t get anything at all.

It’s sad, in the beginning, but he likes to think he withdraws slowly. The unanswered texts pile up on his phone one by one, and Manon asks less and less about why he doesn’t hang out with them as much anymore, and once, when he sees Eliott in the hallway in-between his classes, he shoots him a smile and scrambles out of sight before anything else can happen.

He misses Eliott so goddamn much. It grows in his chest like vines, this ache, winds around everything else he feels and taints it. But Lucas only allows himself to feel it when it’s late into the night and the apartment is quiet and his thoughts have nowhere else to go. Because, again — Eliott is not his to have. Not his to miss. This is not a universe where they’re together.

He just needs to get it into his head.

*

And then, one night as he’s getting off his shift and closing up, stepping into the dark of the streets, Eliott is, for some reason, there.

He looks slightly unsure of himself, as if the sun, when it went down, took away the usual bright aura he radiates. His hands are in his pockets, and his hair is a mess. He’s chewing on his bottom lip and something flits across his face when he realises Lucas has spotted him, but then he comes up to where Lucas is standing with the keys still dangling from his hands, in big, quick strides like he’s afraid Lucas will run off, as if he has anywhere to go.

”Can we talk?” is the first thing Eliott says. 

So they talk.

It feels a little bit like the conversation they had after Lucas confessed, the one when Eliott had told him ”I wouldn’t be good for you”, the one when Lucas had said, ”We’ll figure it out,” only to fuck up everything even more in the end. They wander through the streets in silence at first, Lucas unsure of what exactly is happening and stupidly happy to see Eliott again, almost despite himself, all at the same time. He can’t help but steal glances at Eliott’s profile, coloured golden in the light of the street lamps. 

Then, Eliott says, ”So. You’ve been avoiding me.”

It’s not really a question. Lucas supposes that’s fair, since his behaviour left so little room for doubt. He holds the confirmation like breath in his lungs, then lets it out as a sigh. ”Sorry.”

If Eliott was expecting him to deny, it doesn’t show on his face. Lucas watches him lick his lips. ”Did I—” Eliott stutters. ”Did I do something? Did I say something stupid?”

Something unfurls in Lucas’s chest, then, the vines grow and grow and make it a little bit harder to breathe. 

None of this is Eliott’s fault. That’s what Lucas keeps thinking as they walk, as Eliott waits for an answer, as they keep looking at each other like that could serve as a reply instead. None of this is on Eliott. It’s all Lucas and his stupid, stupid heart, him looking for the sun at midnight, him reading too much into Eliott’s kindness, because he just never learns. That’s all.

”No,” he says, looks down on his feet, then up again. ”You didn’t do anything.”

”Then what’s wrong?” is what comes next. Lucas breathes in, breathes out. ”Are you alright?”

”Yeah,” he says. I was just busy, he wants to say, with school and work, you know how it is. But that would be a lie. He was never too busy for Eliott before. Maybe that was the very first mistake in all of this. ”I’m okay.”

”Then—” Eliott starts, quietly, and doesn’t finish. Why, is what he really wants to say; Lucas realises that but pretends that he doesn’t, only walks alongside Eliott and waits for him to speak again, looks at the pattern of light-dark-light as they pass the street lamps. Then, Eliott takes a breath, looks ahead. ”I know it’s not really my business,” he says, ”but—we’re okay, right? Because I feel like I did something. I just— I really miss you.”

And just like that, it’s too much. It’s too much.

Lucas says, ”I’m still in love with you.”

Eliott turns his head fast, surprised. He stops walking. Lucas slows down, too, stands centimetres from where another streetlamp is casting yellowish light on the nearby building. Eliott looks dumb-struck and a little scared, and Lucas looks at him and thinks that he has no right to, because it’s not like he didn’t know. It’s not like Lucas didn’t tell him.

And here they are again, a different time and a different place but the same two people and the same situation. Here he is, defeated and pathetic and like he’s stuck in some sort of fucking loop. It’s so unfair, he thinks, his chest suddenly too small for his heart, too tight for his lungs. So unfair.

”I know you don’t want to hear it,” he goes on when Eliott doesn’t say anything but just stands frozen still, his expression twisted into something Lucas is afraid to work through, ”and I’m sorry. I really tried to keep things how they used to be, but I can’t. I tried to stop—” A breath. Lucas feels shaky. ”I tried to stop feeling the way I do because I didn’t want to ruin anything, but I can’t. Not when you keep acting the way you do and keep saying all those things—”

”What things?”

Eliott sounds very small. Like he isn’t sure what to say but needs to say something anyway, like he’s scared. Lucas is scared, too, just a bit. All the words he says sound like coming from underwater.

”That you miss me,” he hears himself answer and only half-registers that it is really his own voice that’s sounding so strange. ”That you think of me. Everything, I don’t know.” His next breath sounds watery, and Lucas isn’t crying, but he’s almost there. He tries to push through it. ”It’s not like you don’t realise that, right? I know it’s easier to just pretend I never said anything, but the truth is that I did. We both know that. I don’t think it’s fair to pretend everything is still the same.”

Eliott casts his eyes down. It takes him a moment to say, ”No. It’s not fair.”

And Lucas, stupidly, because for just a second he can’t help it, thinks about some other universe, then, where a different Lucas and a different Eliott are happy. Where they kiss on street corners and hold hands as they walk down the sidewalks and where some other Lucas is allowed, impossibly, to lift some other Eliott’s hand to his lips and press a kiss there, too, or to his cheek, to the curve of his jaw. 

”I meant what I said about still being friends,” he says after a while, and it burns in his throat, but in this universe, it’s all he gets. ”It’s still important to me. I just need to work through it all, so that we can go back to how things really used to be, this time.“ He licks his lips. "I don’t want to ruin this any more than I already did.”

”Lucas, you didn’t—” Eliott sounds almost as bad as he does. Lucas doesn’t think about the reason. ”You didn’t ruin anything, listen, I—”

”I just need some more time,” he cuts in, because he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to handle Eliott saying ”Please don’t do this” one more time, if that’s what Eliott wants to tell him. ”Some time and some space and I’ll really—try and just. You won’t have to listen to it again. I promise.”

Eliott is quiet, then. The vines in Lucas’s chest grow and grow until there’s no more room left.

”I’d take it back if I could,” Lucas says after a moment because it’s the truth, and it feels important, somehow, that Eliott knows. He’d take it all back. All of his scattered, burning, unwanted feelings and keep them away, safe and only for him to deal with. ”I would. But I can’t. I’m sorry that I need so much time.”

For a second, Eliott looks like he wants to say something, but whatever is it, it never leaves his mouth.

So in the end, Lucas only says, ”See you later,” and then goes.

[inevitably-johnlocked]

do u have a fic list of BAMF john getting kidnapped?

Hey Nonny!

Ahh, I’ve quite a few Kidnapping fics!

Kidnapping, Hostage, & Stalking

Kidnapping, Hostage & Stalking Pt. 2

KIDNAPPING, HOSTAGE & STALKING Pt. 3

Booted by Sexxica (E, 1,175 w., 1 Ch. || Trapped, Kidnapping, Handcuffs, Biting Kink, Blow Jobs, Coming in Pants, Tight Spaces, Humour, Smut, 69 Sex Position, BJ’s Through Pants) – John and Sherlock have been kidnapped, handcuffed, and stuffed together in a car boot. How come they can never take these situations seriously? Part 3 of the Tumblr Ficlets Gone Wild

Imminent by LoyalPaddler (K+, 1,187 w., 1 Ch. || Kidnapping, Open Ending) – What did it say about a person if he recognized the feeling of waking up concussed, blindfolded, and handcuffed to a chair? Probably not good, that.

Coming Full Circle by KCS (K+, 2,358 w., 1 Ch. || Alternate TGG, Friendship, Drama, Violence/Death References, Drugging/Poisoning, Kidnapping, BAMF John, Moriarty POV, Introspection) – Moriarty had John for almost six hours between his abduction and the showdown at the pool - more than enough time to implement a Plan B for his escape should Sherlock call his bluff with the fake bomb vest.

The Hours Before Midnight by Lady Sam Mallory (T, 7,773 w., 1 Ch. || TGG Fic, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Torture / John Whump, Kidnapping, Drugging, Alternating POV, Worried / Protective Sherlock) – Moriarty doesn't play fair. John must deal with hours of torment from Moriarty before going to meet Sherlock at the Pool at the end of the Great Game and Sherlock must deal with the consequences of his boredom.

Victim, Bait, Hero, Friend by KimberlyTheOwl (T, 7,887 w., 1 Ch. || Post-TGG Epilogue, Angst, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Introspection, Past Kidnapping / Torture / Implied Rape, Panic Attacks, Worried / Possessive Sherlock, Lestrade is a Good Friend) – Some insights into why John was perfectly willing to throw everything away for a chance to kill Moriarty at the pool. Trauma, ugliness, and finally healing. Some nice supporting work by Lestrade as well.

The Five Stages of Mourning, Plus One by SunnyRea (T, 10,557 w., 1 Ch. || MCD, Pining / Grieving Sherlock, URT, Heavy Angst, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Drug Use, Graphic Death, Depression, Unhappy Ending) – Sherlock did not want this, did not want another stalemate with John in the middle, a gun in Jim's hand. This cannot have happened without a sign. There has to be something he missed anything which said today is the day I kill for real.

The Palmyra Atoll by elwinglyre (E, 16,609 w., 3 Ch. || TSo3 Divergence / Episode Fix-It, Stockholm Syndrome, Kidnapped John Watson, John Whump, Evil Mary, Angst, Cuddling & Snuggling, Toplock, Limited 3rd John POV) – As John's preparing for the wedding, Sherlock is preparing to have his heart broken, and Mary is prepared to do the unthinkable. Intervention required. Enter Sherlock. Set before Sign of Three with a far different outcome. John is drugged, kidnapped, and left on an island, but not just any old island.

Between Friends by SilentAuror (E, 18,036 w., 1 Ch. || Post S3, Alternating POV, Friends to Lovers, John in Denial, Abduction, Awkward Situations / Miscommunications, Porn With Feels, Blowjobs, Pining, Unrequited, Angst With Happy Ending) – Sherlock gets abducted. As John discovers him tied up naked in an empty storage facility and comes to rescue him, Sherlock's body has an unfortunate reaction which triggers a series of events. John is convinced that everything will be fine as long as they never discuss it. Sherlock isn't as sure...

Hellfire by testosterone_tea (E, 28,596 w., 9 Ch. || Fantasy / Magic / Mages / Elementals AU || Mage Sherlock, Elemental John, Developing Relationship, Torture, Powerful / BAMF John, POV Alternating, Dark / Blood Magic, UST, First Kiss) – Sherlock is a Mage that gets involved with a case involving Dark Summoning rituals, leading him to John Watson, a man with Berserker blood. The only thing is, Berserkers have been extinct for centuries. And of course, nothing involving Mycroft and his interfering ways is ever simple. This time, even Sherlock may have bitten off more than he can chew.

Inscrutable to the Last by DiscordantWords (M, 48,842 w., 6 Ch. || Post-TRF, Alternate S3, John’s Blog/S3 is a Story By John, Divorce, Marital Difficulties, John is a Mess, Emotional Reunion, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Grief / Mourning, Pining John, First Kiss, Adorably Clueless Sherlock, Nostalgia, Love Confessions, Eventual Happy Ending) – He wasn't Sherlock, he couldn't work miracles. All he'd ever been able to do was write about them.

The Thing Is by TSylvestris (E, 56,743 w., 21 Ch. || Case Fic, Dev. Rel., Anal/Oral, Blow Jobs, Meddling Mycroft, Drama, Romance, Humour, Casual Encounters, Pining Idiots, Possessive Sherlock, Orgasm Delay, Rough / Alley Sex, Public Sex, John Whump, Drugged John, Emotional Love Making, Awkward Relationship, Marriage of Convenience, Switchlock) – The problem with living with Sherlock, John thought, was that you never, never, ever knew the significance of anything. Like your flatmate's nose buried in your hair. Whilst you're in bed. Part 1 of Nitroglycerine

Hell Sent, Heaven Bound by ConsultingHound (M, 64,381 w, 16 Ch. || Angels / Demons AU ||  Fallen Angel Sherlock / Angel Cop John, Alternate First Meeting, Slow Burn, Case Fic, John & Lestrade are Friends Before Sherlock, BAMF John, Mind Palace John, Friends to Lovers, John in Denial, Sherlock Picks Out John’s Clothing, Clubbing / Dancing, Mildly Jealous John, Awkwardness, Kidnapping, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Sacrifice, Worried / Anxious Sherlock, Angst with Happy Ending, Immortal to Mortal) – Ex-War healer and current angelic guard John Watson is not having the best day. He overslept, he’s underpaid, and now there’s someone tagging the Council’s building walls. However things may be about to get interesting: there’s an unusual stranger hanging around (the definition of tall, dark, and handsome), a literal underground cult is brewing, and rumblings are coming from hell. Can he keep his neighbourhood safe, how and why is he being connected to all this, and who the hell is Sherlock Holmes?

Being John Watson-ish by elwinglyre (E, 69,902 w., 17 Ch. || Bodysnatcher AU || Author John, Cranky Sherlock, Angst, Sexual Tension, First Kiss / Time, Falling in Love, BAMF John, Past Soldier John, Feelings, Inside Someone’s Brain, Shy Sherlock, Sherlock Loves John, POV Sherlock, Switchlock, Slow Burn, Internal Dialogue, Mental Turmoil) – When consulting detective Sherlock Holmes steps on one toe too many at a crime scene, he's consigned to a desk job in an archaic office on the seventh-and-a-half floor of the New Scotland Yard. It’s in this bleak office that Sherlock discovers a portal into the mind of renowned author John Watson. Grander than his mind palace, this new wonderland affords Sherlock new vistas of experimentation. To learn more about the mystery behind the portal, Sherlock seeks out and befriends Watson. But then it all goes wrong when others find the secret portal door—including the man whose brain he visits.

Not Broken, Just Bent by Schmiezi (E, 87,585 w., 43 Ch. || Pining, Love Confessions, Rape/Sexual Assault, Torture, Hurt/Comfort, Heavy Angst, Villain!Mary, Suicidal Ideations, Main Character Death, Sherlock First Person POV, Parentlock, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Grief/Mourning, Emotional Love Making, Possessiveness, Depression, PTSD, Kidnapping, Virgin Sherlock, Eventual Happy Ending) – "For a second, I allow myself to remember teaching John how to waltz. There is a special room in my mind palace for it. A big one, with a proper parquet dance floor. For a second, I go there. I remember holding him, closer than the World Dance Council asks for, excusing it with the fact that we are training for a wedding, not for a competition. For a second, I feel his hand on mine again, smell his sweat, hear the song we used. For a second, I allow myself to love him deeply. For a second, only a second, that love reflects on my face." Fix-it for S3, starting at the end of TSoT. Evil Mary.

The Cost of a Wish by slashscribe (E, 102,493 w., 12 Ch. || xxxHolic Fusion || Spirits / Ghosts and Magic, Love Confessions, Slow Burn, Soul Mates / Fated Lovers, Adventure, Immortal Sherlock, Powerful John, POV John, Frottage, Wish Granting, Angst with Happy Ending, Nightmares) – John has been plagued by a secret his entire life that has made him feel hopeless until he meets a mysterious, seemingly omniscient man named Sherlock Holmes who owns a wish-granting shop. Their meeting sets off a series of inevitable events that will change the course of both of their lives forever.

Two Two One Bravo Baker by abundantlyqueer (E, 114,574 w., 27 Ch. || Military AU || Afghanistan, War Story, Thriller, Switchlock, Rimming, Emotional Lovemaking, Lots of Sex, HJ/BJ’s) – Captain John Watson of 40 Commando, the Royal Marines, is assigned to protect and assist Sherlock Holmes as he investigates what appears to be a simple war atrocity in Afghanistan. An intense attraction ignites between the two men as they uncover a conspiracy that threatens everything they’ve ever known, but Sherlock is as much hunted as hunter, and everyone close to him is in deadly danger. Can he solve the case in time to save himself and John? Part 1 of Two Two One Bravo Baker Universe

A Further Sea by i_ship_an_armada & ShinySherlock (E, 125,492 w., 23 Ch.|| Historical Pirates AU || Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Doctor John / Pirate Captain Sherlock, Sailing, UST / RST, Masturbation, Action / Adventure, Mild Angst & Peril, Romance, Shaving, Molly/Janine, Bottomlock, Past Drug Use, Slow Burn, Mild Violence, Happy Ending) – Here be a tale of adventure for both body and soul, but beware if ye be not of stout heart, for this be piratelock, ya savvy? Luckless ship's surgeon John Watson takes a chance, and finds himself eye to eye with The Ghost, the scourge of the seven seas and a definite thorn in the side of the blaggard, James Moriarty. But when John finds there's more to this most cunning pirate than be meetin' the eye, he has to choose... is it a pirate's life for him?

Free Falling by twistedthicket1 (M, 203,574 w., 38 Ch. || Guardian Angels AU || Guardian Angel John, Fluff and Angst, Humour, Kidlock / Teenlock, Light Mystrade, Passage of Time, Possessive John, Drug Use / Overdose, Victor Trevor, Graphic Bullying, Big Brother Mycroft, Hard Drug Use, Depression, Possessive Sherlock, Possessive John, Panic Attacks, Nightmares/PTSD, Pining, Healing Abilities, Kidnapping, Violence, Torture, Blow Jobs, Virgin John, Emotional Development / Attachment, Mortality, Happy Ending) – All Guardian angels are born with a Chosen human. When this child is born, the angel comes into being to protect and care for them during their life on Earth. For John Watson, all he cares about in the world revolves around his Chosen, Sherlock Holmes. Watching him grow up though, the angel soon learns that God must have had a sense of humour the day he decided to make Sherlock, as trouble seems to follow him like a magnet wherever he goes. John can't decide what's worse, the idea of losing his Chosen one, or the fact that he may be breaking the most taboo law of heaven as he disguises himself as a human to better protect and befriend the beloved detective he's always watched from afar. He was meant to care for him. But what happens when caring evolves into something more? What happens when an emotion an angel is supposed to be incapable of possessing comes to life suddenly and viciously inside John's chest?