#specifically because if i stayed up any later i started to feel sick and threw up a couple of times

[rohirric-hunter]

Honestly a lot of things could have gone wrong with the soup. My refrigerator door was open when I went into the kitchen yesterday morning, and I don't know for how long, so the fish and bacon could potentially have spoiled. I don't think they did, because the ranch dressing that was in the door and right by the opening was still plenty cold (and I ate a lot of that earlier in the day and felt fine) and also Morgoth was eager enough to try and eat the fish and bacon, and he generally has a good sense for food that's gone bad.

Some of the cilantro I used was blooming. I picked all of the blooming bits (and the bits where the leaves were a different shape around it) out, but potentially that didn't sit well with me? Blooming broccoli certainly doesn't.

A few of the larger chunks of potato were undercooked, but I ate them anyway. I don't think this is it either, as I used to eat fully uncooked potato all the time with no negative side effects.

Had really bad heartburn, but drank wine anyway. (Completely unrelated to the soup. This is just a bad idea in general.)

Drank Pinot Grigio. Legitimately and unironically think how disgusting this wine is makes it just as likely a candidate as anything else.

This Just Happens Sometimes. This just happens sometimes. Like I said, I'm sure it was due to gas moving in my stomach. I have that pretty bad in general and I think that throwing up is sometimes just a physical response to that, without the necessity of having bad food (though bad food can of course make it worse). Could have just been bad timing. I hope that's it.

[jurassicsickfics]

This isn't for any specific fic but poly sick dynamics have me😍🥰💖✨💓💫

Especially when there's multiple caretaker/sickie dynamics

One super squeamish one caretaker, one super tolerant one and one that's kinda I the middle. Also Bonus if one or more of the caretakers also get sick because they just tried to be there for sickie.

Sure thing! I hope you enjoy!

It was a hot summer day in Haddonfield. Laurie, Annie and Lynda had spent most of the day in Laurie's sizeable backyard. Lynda had gotten her fair share of sunbathing in; she had full intentions of showing off to Bob later. Annie had been counting the grasshoppers, and she kept remarking about how, "There's so many of them this year!". And Laurie had been going back and forth between the covered back porch and getting some tanning in as well. It had been a peaceful day, but, even through the summer bliss, all 3 of the girls had mentioned not feeling well at some point or another.

At one point, Lynda had sprayed herself down with the water hose, because her stomach started to cramp up and she assumed she was getting too hot. The water helped for a while, but, then the uncomfortable, bubbly feeling came back.

Meanwhile, Annie had been having an odd, tingly, butterflies feeling in her belly. She described it to Laurie as "feels like I'm nervous, but I'm not". The brunette had eventually chalked it up to her nerves trying to calm down after finals last week, not being in school did take some getting used to, after all.

And Laurie, well, she'd been having waves of nausea all day. She'd feel fine for a while but then a wave of queasiness would stop her in her tracks, for a minute or two, then go away. Being the most logical of the 3 teenagers, with every sickness wave her mind would flash back to the nasty stomach virus that was going around school the week before summer started. But, surely she'd have caught it before now...right?

As the sun started to set, the girls were sitting on the back porch nibbling a couple apples; it was Annie's idea, she'd heard somewhere that apples can settle your stomach. She'd only eaten a couple pieces before she just had to stop, her stomach suddenly felt really iffy.

"U-um...Laurie?" Annie squeaked.

Laurie looked up. "Yeah?" The blond answered.

Annie's face was flushed, with both sun and the urge to cry. This worried Annie herself; she wasn't usually a weepy person, but she felt really upset right now.

"I-I don't feel good..." she said, her breath hitching.

Laurie's eyes widened with concern, and Lynda was giving Annie a nervous look. Laurie pushed the plastic lawn chair back from the table and went over to Annie, feeling her forehead. "What's the matter? Did you get too much sun?" She asked, and the curly-haired teen shrugged, a single tear trickling down her cheek.

Laurie pulled Annie into a comforting hug, which Annie eagerly returned. She needed the comfort, and Laurie was just about the most comforting person she knew.

Lynda was nervously playing with her luxurious blond hair, her own stomach starting to turn, more with anxiety than anything. Lynda hated when people threw up; ever since she was a toddler, vomiting terrified her, whether it was herself or someone else. She wondered how on earth Laurie was so calm, and so readily getting that close to Annie who, frankly, looked to be seconds away from barfing.

Annie nuzzled her face into Laurie's chest, now starting to cry openly, her arm wrapped around her midsection.

"It's ok Annie, it's alright...deep breaths, ok?" Laurie comforted the smaller girl, patting her back. Annie was shaking now, her face now a slight shade of green. Lynda was ready to bolt, but, she resisted the urge. She wanted to be a good friend and be there for Annie, so she stayed put, but the fear in her eyes must've been more obvious than she thought, because Laurie gave her a sympathetic smile.

"Lyn, if you wanna go inside, we get it. We know this kinda thing bothers you." Laurie said. Lynda took Laurie up on her offer without hesitation and jumped up out of her seat, but before bolting through the sliding glass door she stopped and said, "anything I can bring you?"

Annie shook her head, "No, thanks, Lyn. I'll be alright..."

Lynda nodded, and disappeared inside. With that, Laurie crouched down in front of Annie, as she sat in the chair, and cupped her cheek in her hand. "Are you ok, Anne Marie?"

Annie shook her head, sniffling.

"Do you have to throw up?"

Annie nodded. Laurie was about to help her inside to the bathroom, but Annie's stomach had other plans, so she made a break for the grass and threw up into the lawn. Laurie cringed with sympathy and patted her friend on the back, holding her dark curly hair back.

As Laurie comforted the sick Annie, she felt her stomach flip too. At first, she thought she was just getting squeamish, but...no, she wasn't that sensitive to this sort of thing. She's a babysitter for Pete's sake, kids puke all the time, she's used to it. So, why did she feel sick?

Laurie's hand left Annie's back and rested on her own stomach instead, and Annie turned around when she felt the patting stop. She was about to whine for her to keep doing it, until she saw the blond holding her own stomach.

"What's wrong?" Annie asked, her voice weak and raspy.

"I...I don't think I feel good either..." Laurie said, trying to swallow down the hot feeling rising in her throat. Annie, fairly sure she was done, stood up straight and wiped her mouth on the back of her hand. She gave Laurie a worried look, as the blond seemed to go pale before her eyes.

Before she knew it the rolls were reversed; Laurie was puking into the grass and Annie was holding her hair.

"Oh jeez, I'm sorry, Laur...did I make you squeamish?"

Laurie shook her head, coughing wetly.

"N-no...I think I'm sick too..." she answered between heaves.

About the time Laurie regained control of her body, she heard Lynda crying for her inside. She and Annie both bolted to check on her, and they found her hunched over a trashcan, also being sick...

"Oh Lyn.." Laurie crooned, pulling the cheerleader's hair back into a ponytail and rubbing soothing circles into her back. She was being especially soft with Lynda because she knew she had emetophobia, and needed more reassurance than most people would. Lynda was sobbing as she turned around and buried her face in Laurie's shoulder. Laurie returned the embrace, not even phased by the fact that Lynda had thrown up on her a little, apparently having misjudged whether or not she was done.

"I guess it wasn't too late to catch that stomach bug..." Laurie stated aloud. Annie nodded in pained agreement, before gagging and heaving into the trashcan.

Naturally, squeamish Lynda had her "puke button" pushed by Annie's vomiting, so she promptly emptied her stomach a second time down Laurie's front. Laurie's only reaction was simply to pat Lynda on the back, and croon comfortingly to her while also giving Annie a back rub.

A couple hours later, the girls were piled up in the livingroom. Annie lounged on the couch, watching TV. She'd whine about her stomach hurting occasionally but, other than that, this was just an excuse to be lazy to her.

Poor Lynda, on the other hand, was in the fetal position on the floor, hugging a bucket and crying. It'd been years since she'd felt this scared and upset, and she was so scared of throwing up and not being able to get the bucket in time that she refused to lie on the couch, in fear of making a mess. Her whole body was trembling and she panicked with every cramp and wave of nausea, and she flat out refused to try eating or drinking anything.

Laurie was the polar opposite of Lynda. She was the picture of calmness, sitting on the floor next to Lynda, rubbing her back and stomach while casually sipping some Ginger Ale. She'd taken the liberty to call both Annie and Lynda's parents to let them know the girls would be staying with her, as they didn't really feel like traveling, and she didn't mind caring for them a bit. She'd been tending to them both between her own bouts of sickness, which she treated like an everyday occurrence. Comforting Lynda, holding a bucket for Annie so she could hold her stomach, which was cramping something awful, checking temperatures, disinfecting and cleaning when she felt like it...Laurie was the definition of "the mom friend".

All 3 of the girls were glad that Laurie's parents were out of town. They didn't mind being sick in front of Laurie but if her parents would've been there, it would've been downright embarrassing.

"Laurie, can you rub my stomach?" Annie whimpered, curling into herself. Laurie smiled a bit. "Of course, your majesty. " she joked, standing up off the floor after giving Lynda a pat on the shoulder. She made her way to Annie and sat down beside her, slipping her hand underneath Annie's tank top and massaging her stomach. She smiled when she felt the smaller girl relax, and Annie let out a contented, "mmm..."

Lynda managed a smile through her tears. "You're gonna be such a good mom someday, Laurie." She said. Laurie smiled. "Aww, thanks Lyn. You are too."

By the time midnight rolled around, Annie was sleeping like a baby, and Laurie had carried her upstairs to her own bed after she'd fallen asleep on the couch. But Lynda was still nauseated, and therefore afraid to sleep.

"Laurie, if I throw up while I'm asleep I'll choke..." she cried, her hands pressed against her stomach.

"I'll give you an extra pillow so you're not lying flat. How would that be?"

Lynda shook her head. "No..no I can't..."

Laurie sighed. "Well, little miss Lynda, would it help if I hold you? I'll stay awake and make absolutely sure you don't choke." Laurie promised. She could see the little wheels turning in Lynda's mind as she contemplated that idea, and, finally, she nodded.

"O-ok...thanks Laur."

Laurie helped Lynda onto her lap as she reclined the loveseat. Lynda laid on her chest like a baby and Laurie covered them both with a fluffy blue blanket. With Laurie's back pats, and the sound of her heartbeat, Lynda was out like a light in minutes.

And that's how they spent the night. Three friends, sick as dogs but together and helping each other, now asleep. Well, except for Laurie. She'd kept her promise to Lynda that she'd stay awake. For some reason, the feeling of Lynda asleep on her chest, and the thought of Annie, safe and sound in her bed comforted Laurie. She laid her head back against the couch and, with a contented sigh, she whispered, "I'd do anything for you two."

[ijustwant2write]

Runaway-Finn Shelby x Reader

(GIF credit to @dialnfornoir​)

Masterlist

Summary: On her brisk walk home, (Y/N) witnesses a brutal Peaky Blinder attack, attempting to run away when Finn Shelby comes after her, only to sweep her off her feet.

Characters: Finn Shelby x Reader

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name 

(Y/L/N)=Your last name

Warnings: Violence, fighting, blood, fluff

                                      *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Come on (Y/N), not even one drink? We won't even make you stay, just the one!" my friend moaned as I denied their proposal of going to the Garrison.

"You said that last time, and I ended up staying until early hours." I laughed.

They all put their hands together as they started begging. I also laughed at this, embarrassed by the attention that was suddenly on us.

"No, seriously. I have to be good with money this month. Thanks to you lot, I'm having to be frugal for the rent."

They sighed."Fine, we won't make you come. But you will be missed. Just get home safe, OK?"

"I will. You too, please don't get too drunk and end up sleeping outside."

"That was one time!"

I shook my head as we giggled, waving goodbye when I turned to walk home. We had just finished work, so it was still relatively light out; I would say it was less dangerous to walk alone, but we did live in Small Heath. Yawning after the long, boring shift, I adjusted my coat around me, trying to keep warm. All I wanted was a good dinner, get cleaned up and snuggle into bed, maybe read a few chapters of the book I had if my eyelids could stay open. I was only in my early twenties and already feeling like an old woman.

Home wasn't far, a good twenty minute walk, which could be a bad thing if it was raining, a lovely stroll if not. I lived in the better part of Small Heath (if there even was one), walking home from work had never been an issue. Until I heard the unfamiliar sounds of desperate begging and crying, as well as thumps and slaps of skin of skin contact. My eyes widened, heart beat accelerating when I realised someone was begging for their life. There was no other way home for me, I had to take this route. What I should have done was turn around to join my friends for that drink, but the natural human tendency to be curious took over. As I cautiously continued my way home, I couldn't help but glance down the alleyway behind a row of houses, spotting four young boys surrounding an older man, who looked like he was being beaten to a pulp by one of them. I froze, having never seen a brawl like this up close. It was as if I were delayed, somehow taking ages to register that I had to leave before they spotted me.

Unfortunately one of their heads snapped up to look at me, tapping his friends on the shoulder, pointing at me as he shouted for them to stop. My legs still wouldn't move, staring at the man who's face was soaked red with his own blood. It wasn't until one of the young men started approaching me that I sprinted away, suddenly terrified about what could happen to me.

I cursed myself for being such a bad runner, as well as the shoes I was wearing. My lungs were working incredibly hard, my throat drying up whilst my mind panicked as it tried to remember which way was home. I let out a scream as the boy grabbed me, crying out in pain when they pushed me against the brick wall. Attempting to scramble out of their hold was useless, they were pushing their whole weight on me, I had no escape.

"(Y/N)?" he said my name.

My eyes widened, realising who had a hold of me. It was Finn Shelby.

"(Y/N) (Y/L/N)? We went to school together. You might not remember me, but we definitely did."

"Of course I remember you! You're Finn fucking Shelby.”

"Oh right."

"Please don't hurt me."

He looked confused."Hurt you? Why would I do that?"

"Well, you're currently pinning me against a wall, and I'm finding it a bit hard to breathe if I'm honest."

He glanced down, quickly pushing himself away from me. I tried to hide getting my breath back, letting out a quick cough. It seemed he wasn't going to hurt me, and he wasn't being sadistic about that phrase either.

"I'm sorry. You alright?"

I slowly nodded, still wanting to be on the safe side.

"I remember you from school. Obviously changed a lot, though I have seen you from time to time."

"Right."

"Look, uh, what you saw back there, I need you to forget it."

"Finn," I was scared to say his name but I did anyway,"you almost killed him."

"You know I'm a Peaky Blinder, right?"

"How could I not? And are you trying to justify what you did?"

"(Y/N), he ran a brothel using children."

"Oh."

"I mean, you couldn't have known that, so I can see how that looks from a different perspective."

"Well, I totally agree with your actions then."

"I still need you to keep quiet about the whole thing."

"Um, of course."

"Where were you headed?"

This was the longest conversation I had ever had with Finn, with a Peaky Blinder. I briefly remember him as a child, you never do have specific memories at such a young age, though I probably played with him during break time.

"Home."

"Let me walk you."

"No, honestly it's fine, it's not far."

"I insist. Part of my apology for scaring you earlier."

"Part of your apology?"

"Yeah, I'm taking you out for drinks tomorrow."

I started thinking I might have been in a dream."Sorry?"

"Do you always act this surprised at what people say? A catch up drink."

"That's alright, really, if you're trying to make it up to me-"

"Come on, just one?"

It was like deja vu.

"If you're busy tomorrow, we can always go tonight. Yeah, you know what? Let's do that instead!"

"No, Finn, really I'm fine."

"I won't take no. Please, it'll be nice, I promise all I'm asking for is a drink."

I felt obligated to go, still in a bit of shock from what happened. But my friends were at the Garrison, if they saw me with Finn they would think I was ditching them, and what would it look like for me to be walking in with a Shelby?! However, I felt bad when I saw how happy Finn was; and even if he tried anything later I would undoubtedly slap him, I wasn't afraid of that (I tried to convince myself). When I agreed, his smile grew even bigger, instantly heading towards the pub.

I was trying to focus on what he was babbling on about, only my mind was preoccupied with the dreaded stares of my friends. That was one fo the worst things you could do as a girl, ditch your friends for a boy. Then there would be questions about how I met him, why didn't I tell them, why didn't I bring him along to drinks etc. I'd look like any other desperate girl that tried to cling onto the arm of any Shelby, desperate for a taste of the dangerous, gangsta life, even if it was just for one night.

As we walked in, I felt sick, immediately spotting my friends on their usual table they always tried to grab. They hadn't seen me yet, so I attempted to hide behind Finn, keeping my head down as we stood at the bar.

Finn was served first before anyone else."Whiskey Harry, and you?"

"Um, wine please."

"Just put them through the window, yeah?"

I was confused when we walked to the private room, it felt like I was trespassing. Though this gave me a good hiding place from my friends, chancing to glance back at them before disappearing. They still hadn't seen me.

Finn casually sat down, looking relaxed. I stood, not sure whether to join him, which was a stupid thing to think when he had invited me.

"Are you going to stand there the whole time?" he chuckled.

I said nothing as I sat down opposite him, not wanting to become trapped in the booth with him. I still wasn't sure what to say once seated, hating that this could become awkward at any second.

"Are you OK? You seem a bit shaken up still." he asked.

"I'm fine." I squeaked out, knowing he could see right through me.

"You're all nervous, what's wrong?" he smirked.

I sighed."My friends are out there."

"Oh, well go tell them to join us."

"No!" I snapped too quickly."Look, I said no to drinks earlier, hence why I was on my way home, and I was scared what they would think or feel if they saw me waltz in with you."

"Don't want to be seen with a Blinder?"

"No, just didn't want them to think I chose a boy over my friends."

He gave me a pointed look.

"And I guess it would seem strange if I suddenly walked back in with a Blinder."

"Why did you say no in the first place?"

"Because money is tight. That was another reason I was hesitant to come, honest."

"You're not paying (Y/N)."

"Oh, Finn-"

"No, because I literally get this stuff for free." the small window into the room opened."Speaking of."

He reached over and grabbed our drinks, handing mine to me before clinking the glasses together. Unlike Finn, who threw the whole drink back, I sipped on my wine, and god was it good. He slammed the glass back down onto the table, letting out a satisfied breath.

"So what have you been up to since school?"

"Well, I've got a job at this clothes shop, you might have passed it but we only deal with women’s clothing, so I doubt you’ve been in. Uh, I actually started there as a shop assistant after I left school, you know, running errands and doing the little things no one else wanted to do. Then they started giving me proper jobs, I’m also a book keeper now and-” I glanced at Finn, realising that I was rambling,“-sorry, I’m talking too much.”

“No, no you’re not.” he chuckled, waving a hand in the air.

“Long story short, I work in a clothes shop. What about you?”

I closed my eyes as soon as I finished my sentence, wincing at my stupidity.

“I didn’t mean, I wasn’t trying to be smart or pry, obviously I know...no I don’t know...”

“You’re cute when you stumble over your words.”

I wasn’t expecting that.“E-excuse me?”

Before things could get any more awkward, the door opened, making us both jump. I felt my heart drop down into the pit of my stomach when I saw who it was, and I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me; his brothers were here.

“What the fuck are you doing in here Finn boy?”Arthur asked (if you didn’t know all their names, you had to be incredibly simple).

“Failing to get another bird in your bed?” John smirked.

“Shut up John.” Finn spat.“This is (Y/N), she’s an old friend from school.”

They filtered in. John scoffed.“Surprised you remember anything about school. Have you asked him what five pus five is?”

John and Arthur laughed as they sat down opposite us, Thomas standing besides the window for the drinks. I clasped my hands together as they started to shake out of nerves. I was in a room with the Shelby brothers, the men who ran one of the most feared gangs in England, and I had no clue what to do with myself. 

“Um, I think I should go.” I pathetically mumbled out.

“Don’t be rude Finn,” Thomas said,“show the lovely, young lady out.”

Finn was glaring at his brothers as we stood. I slowed down my steps so I didn’t appear to be running away from them. Finn opened the door for me, and I felt weightless as soon as I stepped out of that room. He followed me out, running a hand down his face.

“I’m sorry about them. They’re just being their usual stupid selves.” he apologised.

“It’s alright, really. Don’t tell them they bothered me or anything because they really didn’t.”

“You don’t have to worry. They won’t do anything to you because we had a drink together.”

“Sorry, just not used to...”

“Meeting a gangster?”

I hummed in agreement.“Yeah.”

“Look, I definitely need to go back in there. But I liked this. Apart from how we bumped into each other.”

“Yes, that could have been different.”

“I would like to do this again though.”

“You would?”

“There you go again, acting all surprised. How about this weekend?”

“I-I’m free this weekend.”

“Great. I’ll pick you up at six on Saturday.” he smiled at me, turning to go back into the private room before calling the bartender.“Oh, Harry, another wine for my friend.”

He winked at me, then disappeared into the room. I heard heckling and teasing from his brothers. I could feel that my cheeks were heating up from blushing, though I also couldn’t help but smile. Thanking the bartender for the wine, I quickly took it, freezing when I saw my friends staring at me. Sighing, I took a big gulp of the drink before making my way towards them. This was going to be a longer night than I thought.

[caiuscassiuss]

oppa! | ot7 (I)

Description: Being raised by a caring yet distant father, a close, tight-knit family is the one thing you have craved in your short life. After your adventurer father remarries a rich woman, you’re stuck with seven new brothers. Seven very hot, very different men. This is not what you meant by family.

Arc 1: Stepbrother Introductions

Genre: OT7 x Female!Reader | Brother’s Conflict AU | stepbrother au | fluff | slice of life (For this chapter: PG 13) WC: 15k Warnings: swearing, dub-con (??). In later chapters there will be explicit mentions of depression, panic attacks, thoughts of suicide, self harm, and graphic smut.

Chapter 1: Enter the Oldest Type, Jin!

Fiddling with the charm on your phone, you looked down at the blue text bubble that spelled out the address of what might possibly be your home for the next few years.

You had googled the place as soon as you got home, expecting it to be a random apartment somewhere and boy oh boy, you were wrong. First, the house (not apartment) was on the outskirts of Seoul, on one of the hilly inclines overlooking the Han River. Second, the place where it was located was expensive.

Your eyes nearly bulged out of your head when you saw the housing prices of properties nearby on this popular real estate app. Sure, your father was a celebrity adventurer with his own cable show and so you were used to a certain amount of comfort, but this type of wealth was way beyond your league. Who was this woman that your father married, Jesus Christ?

On the Google streets view (you swear you aren’t weird), you saw the place had at least 2 gates to get through and your father hadn’t told you of any code or given you any pass to get through. You had a feeling if you tried to go in there blind, you would be immediately detained by the police.

Biting your lip, you paced on the fluffy carpet that felt like a dream. Your father was gallivanting off in some remote corner of Nigeria, so he was bound to have no cell service there. You knew no one in the family— much less how to contact them so you could meet up for a coffee or something. It would seem rude not to do something…

Your apartment doorbell buzzed throughout your apartment. Folding your arms over your chest, you shivered as you walked towards the doorway. You had turned up the Air Conditioner too high to ward off the muggy Seoul heat and now it was freezing inside your apartment.

“Hello?” you asked in to the intercom.

“Hi, is this Y/N?” a masculine voice asked at the other end.

You frowned and shifted your weight on your other leg. You don’t recall expecting any guests today.

“Excuse me?” the man asked again after you refused to respond.

“Hi, sorry, who is calling?” you said politely.

“I’m Seokjin, Seoyeon’s son. I’m your, uh, new brother?” he said haltingly, his voice raised at the end.

Gasping softly, you felt your mind pile up with questions and questions until it was spinning. How did he get here? How did you know who you are?

“Oh! Uh, yeah, please come on up.”

You pressed the button to allow the elevator to go to your location and you heard a bright “Thank you!” before the intercom shut off.

You zoomed around your apartment like a psychopath, picking up spare pieces of clothing and putting the dishes in the dishwasher. Your apartment reeked of mild depression, suppressed anxiety, and the beginnings of an unhealthy reliance on take out and that was not the first impression you wanted your newfound brother to have of you.

Putting your hands on your hips, you scanned the now clean apartment. It looked like a moderately adjusted human lived here.

Good timing indeed, as your buzzer sharply rang throughout the apartment. Taking a deep breath, you grasped the door handle and pulled it open.

Your lungs really said “Bye, sister!” and decided to quit working as soon as you saw this man. You couldn’t breath because standing in front of you was one of the most beautiful men you have ever seen in your life.

He was tall, taking up the entire doorway with his height. A dash of neatly groomed, brown hair graced the top of his small head and big eyes peered at you curiously above a strong nose and a pair of big, pouty lips the color of strawberries.

The second thing you noticed about him after his overwhelming beauty was his navy scrubs and the large badge attached to his pocket that read “Kim Seokjin; Pediatric Doctor at Seoul National University Pediatric Group”. You’ve seen people in scrubs and they were, favorably said, unflattering but on this man… he looked like he stepped out of a catalogue.

“You’re Y/N, right?”

Speechless, you nodded.

His entire face lit up with a grin. “Oh, that’s a relief. It’s fantastic to meet you, I’m Kim Seokjin. You can call me Jin though.”

Your voice decided to be nice and start working. You held out a hand and he reciprocated with a handshake. “Hi, I’m Y/N. It’s really nice to meet you. Please, do come in.”

He took off his sturdy shoes politely at the doorway and you retreated further into the hallway of your apartment.

You shivered again through your thin top and crossed your arms. God, you were going to have to raise the temperature. It felt like a fridge in here.

Jin turned around with a smile on his face before his eyes went wide. His eyes flickered down your body and quickly flickered back up to your face.

“I’m sorry if this is a bit sudden,” he started, red climbing up his neck and rising up to his cheeks. “I—” His eyes flicked down again before staying resolutely at your face, despite his very red cheeks.

Did you have a stain on your pants or something? You cast your eyes down at yourself and—

Oh.

Your very regrettable decision of turning your A/C up resulted in stiff nipples poking out from your thin top. To make matters worse, your crossed arms emphasized your breasts.

You felt yourself going red as an unflattering squeak left your mouth. Pulling a cardigan from behind the couch (there goes your good first impression), you quickly threaded your arms through the sleeves and covered your chest.

“I am so sorry—”

“It’s alright!” he said, his voice unwieldy. Jin’s eyes widened again as he realized the meaning of his words. “No! I mean— ugh,” he groaned, burying his face in his hands.

You giggled as you saw his mature composure crack in front of you. 

“I must seem like a pervert,” Jin groaned. “Here I was, hoping to come off as a cool older brother, and I just,” he shook his head. “Forgive me.”

The awkwardness defused, you laughed again, ultra conscious of your chest. “Please don’t worry about it! I had hoped to make a good first impression as well but look at me! Pulling clothing out of furniture.”

He snorted and you both started laughing, filling up your once silent apartment with sound. 

As the laughter died down, you offered him a seat on your couch. He gladly took the invitation, throwing in a joke about being on his feet all day.

“Yeah, I’m sorry to barge in all of the sudden. I didn’t have your contact information— only your address and I realized that you had no way to get to our house. So, here I am,” he grinned, eyes forming cute half crescents.

“I actually have to thank you for it,” you said, setting down a glass of water in front of him. “I was thinking of going to your house myself but I saw the security around it and I knew I’d probably get detained or something.”

“Well, it’s good that it all lined up so well,” Jin commented. “I better introduce myself, don’t I? I’m just a pediatric doctor with the SNU pediatric group and 26— the oldest of all of us. I was born in Gwacheon and moved to Seoul to attend university.”

You smiled softly, despite your unease at his use of the word “just”. “A pediatric doctor? That’s very nice. What made you want to be a doctor?”

Jin’s smile grew strained and you saw his broad shoulders tense up. 

Feeling like you wanted to hit yourself over the head, you threw out your hands in apology. “I didn’t mean to—”

He shook his head. “Please, don’t worry about it. It’s a common question. I chose this specific profession over the OR or surgery because, as a child, I knew someone who was injured a lot and I couldn’t help them at all.” He grimaced, but pasted on a very good smile. His eyes were crinkled at the edges, his head tilted upwards, but you could see through it. “Now I can, yeah?”

“I get what you mean,” you said sympathetically. You were often sick as a child too, and it was… difficult, when your father was off scampering across half the world. 

Jin straightened up in his seat and lost that faraway look in his eyes, zeroing in on you. “What about you, Y/N? You’re college-age, yeah?”

“Yes, I’m 21 and attend Yonsei University as a junior. Although it’s not as exciting as wanting to be a doctor, I want to be a counselor one day,” you told him, your eyes cast down “I want to help people.”

“That’s really admirable, Y/N. If you ever need any help getting an internship or opportunity, I know some counselors and I’d be more than happy to facilitate a meeting,” Jin smiled warmly at you.

A blush infused your cheeks. “I, ah, thank you. I actually work as an operator on Crisis hotline right now, but I’ll definitely need all the help I can get.”

“Of course! You’re my cute younger sister now.”

“I’ve never had a sibling, I’m very excited to have seven older brothers now,” you grinned.

“Yeah! About that,” he coughed awkwardly, “— are you considering moving in with us? Your father told my mother that you would be moving, but I wasn’t sure if you were completely willing?”

You nodded. “I’m considering it. I’d like to meet everyone first, however. Just to get used to your personalities.”

“Completely understandable, all seven of us can be,” he paused, “—a lot. However, if you’re up for meeting a few of us, I can take you to our house for a visit. I can drop you back and everything.”

“That’d be lovely.”

He waited patiently for you as you locked the door to your apartment, carefully watching you as you stepped into the elevator.

“Where did you park?” you asked, craning your head upwards to look at him. “I hope you weren’t forced to park on the street, it can be very expensive.”

He shook his head. “I found the visitor parking, it’s all good.”

The doctor led you through the underground parking, weaving through cars and concrete beams with ease until you stopped in front of a bright white car with a silver trident in the middle of its grill. Eyes wide, you knew what this car was. Your dad had admired Maseratis for the longest time, and this one looked to be very new.

Jin gestured to the white Maserati, looking unfairly suave in his scrubs and next to his fancy car. “Hop in.”

Next Chapter: Press [ X ] for the Mature Type, Namjoon! 

Chapter 2: Enter the Mature Type, Namjoon!

Jin was a model driver, driving carefully on the streets of Seoul. He looked both ways before crossing an intersection and took slow turns. However, it amused you how he hissed at the console as it beeped to warn him if there was a car or curb too close to him.

However, as you looked out the window, the streets got quieter and the houses a whole lot bigger as you crossed into a residential part of Seoul. You were driving parallel to the Han River, and you saw many people doing water activities or boating to cool off in the hot September weather.

Jin slowed down as you entered an avenue lined by trees and you could see a guardhouse at the end of the picturesque street. However, the two of you avoided the guardhouse completely and took what was presumably the resident’s entrance, where he passed by easily with a scan of a barcode on his tire.

“Do you drive, Y/N?” Jin asked, one elbow resting casually on his open window and the other on his lap.

“No, I never really had time to learn.” More like you never had someone to teach you.

“Okay, so we’ll just need a resident pass for you,” Jin muttered to himself, eyes focused on the street.

He drove through large, green spaces with the occasional building speckling the landscape. You gripped your purse harder. Green spaces unencumbered by large buildings blocking the view were rare in Seoul, the cost of natural land so astronomically high only wealthy business people or very famous celebrities being able to afford places like this. You gulped. Their family was definitely out of your league.

The car stopped in front of a very modern looking townhouse and the garage opened, Jin driving into what seemed to be a much more expansive parking garage under the house. However, instead of boring concrete and fluorescent lighting, sandy colored marble and warm lighting lit the space as you descended through the underground.

Biting your lip as Jin backed in his car easily with just one hand steering the wheel, defined forearms catching your attention, you mentally smacked yourself. He’s your brother, for god’s sake!

You froze up as the doors started to lift up like wings on a butterfly, but relaxed. This level of wealth would definitely take some time to get used to.

He placed a warm palm on your shoulder, his fingertips reaching your collarbones, as he guided you to the entrance, up the dimly lit stairs and to a large, wooden door.

“I wish I could’ve taken you through the front door since it’s much more impressive,” he sighed, and pushed the wooden door open with a thumbprint scanner. “However, welcome to our humble abode.”

An abode it was, but humble was it not. You were only on the ground floor, but the ceilings were very high and you were surrounded by many floor-to-ceiling windows. The main theme of the building was warm marble and dark, rich wood with jewel tones interspersed between.

“Woah,” you breathed out. “You guys have a lot of space.”

“Yeah, “ Jin grimaced. “We kind of need it when some of us like to roughhouse and tend to break things.”

You laughed as he then guided you towards a spacious living room, a large window overlooking the Han River and greenery.

“Sit tight, I’ll get us something to drink,” Jin said, his voice getting fainter as he strode to a room off the massive living room.

Ankles crossed together, you peered at the large room. At first, it looked neat. Everything was in its place and perfectly coordinated by the eye of an expert designer. However, you could see the signs the place was well-lived in. The wear-and-tear of the orange and beige blanket emblazoned with an H that was thrown over the chair of the couch, the mess of wires from various gaming consoles, and even the small depressions on the pillows. 

A shelf of colorful books framed the huge TV and you stood up, perusing them. You expected the books to be typical, non-offensive living room books with dust on the covers but to your surprise, the books on the shelves were well loved with their cracked spines and rounded edges. Tracing over your fingers over the books you whispered the titles to yourself.

Candide, Crime and Punishment, The Metamorphosis…

“I’m sorry, but who are you?”

A deep voice echoed behind you and you jumped in surprise. Whirling around you saw another tall man with neat ash blond hair, glasses neatly perched on his straight nose with a pair of fierce eyes peering out from behind the frames. His charcoal suit was well-fitted to his body and his build reminded you of a tiger; sinewous muscles cording his arms, back, and thighs and tensed, ready to jump into action.

A nervous smile crawled up your lips. “I’m Y/N L/N. Are you one of my new brothers?”

The man relaxed minutely but the fierceness of his eyes did not subside. “I am. I’m Kim Namjoon, it’s a pleasure to meet you Y/N.”

He strode across the room in long, confident strides and took your hand. His handshake was strong and you tightened your grip in response, narrowing your eyes at him. His right eyebrow quirked, but he said nothing as he turned his attention to the bookshelf.

“So, what caught your attention here?” He murmured, tenor voice traveling the length of your spine and stroking your sensitive skin. “Is it… this?”

He pulled out a copy of Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen, obviously less worn than the rest.

A smirk tugged at your lips. “No, not that one.”

He stared at you longer, before crossing his arms over his powerful chest. “Oh? Enlighten me, then.”

With nimble fingers, you pulled out a red, slim novel and handed it to him. You carefully tracked his reaction as he took it from your hands, face and eyes saying nothing. He ran a thumb over the agonized face on the cover, and you felt a shiver go down your arm at the sheer sensuousness of it.

“Clockwork Orange,” he breathed out. “Interesting. Are you a Lit Major?”

You continued to stare at the bookshelf, feeling his eyes boring holes into your face. “No, I’m not. I’m majoring in psychology.”

He hummed, eyes tracing the rough artwork of the novel’s cover. “I liked psychology, but at that point I was already double-majoring. I majored in philosophy and business, which are not as different than they seem.”

“Are you out of university, then?” you asked, trying to keep your tone casual.

Namjoon nodded affirmatively. “I’m 24, but I matriculated at SNU when I was 18. I run a conglomerate group now.”

Trying to keep your mouth from falling open in shock— what kind of twenty something year old owned a large business, much less a conglomerate— you nodded coolly.

“Given or made?” you questioned, an edge in your voice. Something about Namjoon made you want to test him, to prod at him constantly.

His fierce eyes turned to you and they blazed. 

“Made.”

Your lips lifted upwards, minutely, until you heard a clinking of glasses.

“Y/N? Sister-dearest? I got you— oh!”

Jin stopped in shock at the sight of you two seemingly huddled together in front of the book case.

“Do you two know each other?” Jin asked, absolutely bemused, as he set down a pitcher and some glasses on the coffee table.

“We don’t,” Namjoon answered. “However,” he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, “—I can see we’ll get along nicely.”

You did not get the same impression, but you digressed. He was one of your brothers now. Another factor was that one of his biceps, even though it was hidden inside his suit jacket, looked like it could strangle you.

Jin continued to stare in suspicion, before shrugging his wide shoulders and settling down on the couch.

“So what were you chatting about then?”

“A couple of books I had on the shelf. Y/N has some interesting taste,” Namjoon commented.

Jin snorted into his water with lemon. “Oh, ew, now I have two bookworms as siblings? Reading was the worst part of university. I liked all the practical stuff.”

“Sometimes I can’t believe that rational parents would let you near their kids,” Namjoon retorted, helping himself to a glass.

“And I can’t believe some women come near you,” Seokjin replied heatedly.

The two of them stared at each other seriously before breaking out in guffaws, hiding your expression behind your glass of water. This was such a weird dynamic and it was only two of them. Well, the best you could do was adapt the situation.

Just like you always had.

Next Chapter: Press [ X ] for the Rough Type, Jungkook! 

Chapter 3: Enter the Rough Type, Jungkook!

As the three of you chatted about yourselves (apparently, some of the brothers were biologically Seoyeon’s children or were adopted), Jin’s eye caught the clock behind you and his eyes widened.

“Oh dear, it’s almost 6 o’clock,” Jin fretted, leaping up from the couch. “Everyone should be arriving home soon– excuse me,” he said as he retreated into the kitchen.

“Ah, I guess that means I should get going,” you said apologetically to Namjoon, standing up and straightening your ruffled skirt.

“Please, stay for dinner,” Namjoon smiled, gesturing for you to take a seat.

“Yeah, Y/N, stay for dinner!” Jin yelled from the kitchen.

“I mean, if you’re sure…” you trailed off, hoping you could stay. You felt too lazy to cook for yourself tonight.

“Please do, we hope to see you a lot more around here,” Namjoon said, warm smiling at you.

The security system dinged, signalling a door had opened within the house. Namjoon’s ears perked up.

His eyes flew towards the doorway. “That must be Taehyung or Jungkook, coming in. They’re usually the first to arrive.”

You wondered why both of those names seemed familiar and a heavy door slammed shut.

“Jungkook-ah! Your new sister is here! Come and greet her, you punk!”

The footsteps thud to a halt at the foot of the steps and you spin around in your seat.

In the hallway, a buff man in a loose-fitting white t-shirt and grey joggers stood in front of you. In almost humorous contrast to his hulking, muscled body, the cutest face with big eyes and pouty lips you have seen peered at you.

He looked familiar to you and you bit your lip, trying to figure out where you had seen him. Oh wait! Charger guy!

“Jungkook! You’re in my Calculus class, right?”

“Yeah…” he whispered, looking at you like he saw a ghost.

“It’s so funny that you’re here. It’s nice to meet you as my brother,” you grinned at him, tilting your head to the side.

He nodded mindlessly, frozen at his spot in the hallway.

“Jungkook? Are you good?” you prodded.

Namjoon snorted as he kept on typing into his phone. “Jungkook can’t speak to girls, so he gets frozen like this from time to time. Hyung, you fix him.”

“I’m cooking, you dolt!”

“And I’m trying to earn money so I can provide the food. Go.”

Jin shot you a look, as if exclaiming “look at how I’m treated around here!”, and dusted off his hands. Striding over to a frozen Jungkook, Jin poked Jungkook’s very built chest.

Jungkook still didn’t move and Jin pursed his lips. He poked him again. “Yah! Why aren’t you working?!”

The youngest brother broke out from his trance and looked at Jin seriously. 

“No.”

“Pardon?” you asked, wondering if you misheard.

“No.” Jungkook shook his mass of black, shaggy hair and ran a tattooed hand through it, looking in disbelief at the ground. “No, no, no, no, no no.”

Your slight smile is frozen on your face and you feel your shoulders tense up and, nervously, you look to Jin.

“Jungkook—“

“Fuck!” He threw his hands in the air. Jungkook pointed a finger at you, a line creasing at his forehead. “I did not sign up for this! Fuck!” 

Spinning around, he marched back into the hall and you could see the powerful muscles in his back tense through his thin t-shirt.

“Well…”

Jin, with his hands rubbing his temples, sighed heavily and deflated at the counter. “God, I’m sorry about that Y/N. I don’t know why Jungkookie is acting like that; he’s normally really amiable and nice.”

You laugh softly, trying to defuse the awkward tension that had settled around the kitchen. “Jin-ssi, please don’t worry about it. It’s a huge shift in his life and some people are going to take it harder than others. It’ll take some time, but I’m sure he’ll get used to me being his sister.”

Namjoon scrutinized you with hooded eyes. “You’re very kind. I hope my brothers don’t take advantage of it.”

Your grin cracked a bit. “We’re family. I don’t mind.”

—————

Jungkook would not come down from his room, despite the hilarious mix of threats, blackmail, and aegyo Jin tried to coerce him down with.

You could hear Jin rapid-fire lecturing Jungkook outside Jungkook’s bedroom door and Namjoon sighed, his temples in his hands. 

“Hyung, just give up. The kid’s being moody again.”

Jin acquiesced with ill grace, throwing in a last good “You punk!” up the stairs. He stomped down the carpeted stair well, retying his apron and set to reheat many of the things.

“See if I feed him tonight, that ungrateful brat…” Jin hissed, moodily chopping some screen onions.

Namjoon leaned towards you and beckoned your ear towards his and you obeyed, curious. His scent wafted towards you, yet was not as punchy as a normal cologne. It was subtle and musky, carrying notes of old books and bergamot. Perhaps it was a lotion?

“Jin says that all the time, but will leave him leftovers anyways,” Namjoon whispered into your ear, making you unconsciously shiver. “He’s too much of a pushover.”

You snorted as Jin came out of the kitchen with a dish in hands. “Yah, what was that, Namjoon?”

“Just commenting on how good your food is, hyung,” Namjoon replied coolly and leaning away from you.

Jin glanced suspiciously at Namjoon, before setting down the dish. You gasped, immediately getting to your feet.

“Oh, I’ve been such a rude guest! Can I help in any way? Set out the dishes or something?”

The apron-clad doctor clutched his heart, and wailed, “Look! My cute dongsaeng! Finally, a member of this household that is kind and offers to do their part!” Jin’s voice got progressively louder as he directed his voice up the stairs.

You muffled your laugh with a cough, and turned to Jin again. “Jin-ssi?”

Jin shook his head, clicking his tongue as he directed you to stay in your seat. “No, sweetheart, you’re a guest. Joonie-ah, set out the plates.”

Namjoon got up to get the plates, but as he did, his phone buzzed. Namjoon’s forehead creased as he looked at whatever was on his screen.

“Hyung, Taehyung-ah won’t be here today. Apparently his shoot on Jeju is lasting over night.”

Jin sighed, bustling around the kitchen. “How about Hoseok? Yoongi? I know Chimmy is out of the country right now.”

Taehyung, Hoseok, Yoongi, Chimmy, you memorized in your head. These were the four brothers you had yet to meet.

Namjoon snorted and put down the silverware, forks and spoons tinkling brightly. “You know Yoongi— he’s like a stray cat. He’ll be here when he wants. As for Hoseok, I think he might’ve just fallen asleep at the studio.”

“I’m sorry Y/N, I wish I could’ve introduced you to our other brothers,” Jin apologized. “Now, you’re just stuck with us two grandpas.”

You shook your head. “I’m just happy I could have dinner with you guys. Thank you for inviting me over.”

Jin watched you with a fond smile and Namjoon contemplated you carefully again.

Everything was set out and the three of you dug into Jin’s delicious food.

“Jin-ssi, this is very good. Your food tastes delicious. Did you put brown sugar into the sauce? It really rounds out the taste,” you complimented.

“I haven’t heard a compliment from these ungrateful brats about my cooking for 10 years,” Jin sighed dramatically. “Such a cute dongsaeng.”

Namjoon shook his head at Jin’s immature antics. “I might as well introduce you to Jungkook, since he elected not to do it himself.”

“You seemed to know him from university, yes?” Jin asked.

Nodding, you dabbed your mouth with a napkin. “I know of him, yes. He’s in my calculus class? Although, I feel like I might’ve had him in some of my core curriculum classes.”

“Jungkook is at Yonsei for a technology degree, although at first he was reluctant to go to university,” Namjoon revealed. “He wanted to be a Pro-Gamer and streamer full-time, but Seoyeon, Hyung, and I convinced him to get a degree.”

“He chose technology because he wants to combine his passion for gaming and technology into something in the future,” Jin continued, taking a sip of his water.

“That’s a very smart move of his,” you said politely. You wondered why Namjoon referred to his mother as ‘Seoyeon’. Maybe he was one of the adopted ones?

“That brat upstairs might look like he just screams at the monitor and works out, but he’s much more,” Namjoon reflected.

———- 

When you were cleaning up, you felt bad that Jungkook hadn’t had dinner yet. That man must need like four square meals a day and tons of snacks to keep up his bulk.

“Jin-ssi, Namjoon-ssi, I’m going to deliver some food to Jungkook. He must be hungry,” you called out, scraping some of the food onto a plate.

“You don’t have too, Y/N, he usually sneaks down to get something from the fridge,” Namjoon said as he typed furiously on his phone.

“Don’t worry about it, I want to help him,” you grinned, climbing up the stairs.

Namjoon mumbled something suspiciously like, “You’re too kind for your own good” but you had already gotten to the second landing. Stopping in front of Jungkook’s door, you knocked.

“Jungkook-ssi?” you said when no one responded. “You must be a bit hungry, so I just got a plate together for you.”

Complete radio silence. 

Exhaling sharply through your nostrils, you pouted and bent down to set down the plate next to his doorway.

“Well, if you change your mind, I put it next to your door. I’ll be going now!”

You strode down the hallway, making sure your footsteps trailed off. You hid behind a corner, making sure to conceal yourself completely.

After waiting a few minutes, you were sure he wasn’t going to come out  but his door clicked open and Jungkook emerged in a grey-blue hoodie. He took a surreptitious glance around the hallway before his eyes found you behind the corner.

Blushing, you decided to wave at him. To your surprise, instead of scowling or ignoring you completely, Jungkook’s face turned tomato red as he hurriedly gathered up the plate and slammed his door.

You scratched your head. Maybe he was shy or something.

Next Chapter: Press [ X ] for the Bright Type, Hoseok! 

Chapter 5: Enter the Bright Type, Hoseok!

“So, how were your brothers? Nice? Weird? Ugly?” Hyerim pestered as you walked by the subway.

You bit your lip. “Um, really different?”

Hyerim fixed you a look.

“Okay, so I met three out of the seven yesterday. The oldest one— his name is Seokjin, but I call him Jin— is 26 and he’s a pediatric doctor. The other one—”

“Wait, Seokjin?” Your friend squinted at you. “Does he happen to work at SNU Pediatric Group?”

Blinking, you turned to her. “Yeah? How the hell did you know that?”

Hyerim let out a half strangled scream as you stepped down the stairs of the station. You were instantly surrounded by dozens of power blue ads with a purple suit-clad man in the middle, perhaps in the middle of a hip trust, all reading Happy Birthday in aesthetic cursive.

“Hoe! He’s my brother’s fucking doctor, I can’t believe this!”

Your eyebrows nearly touched your forehead. “Shit, really?”

“Yes! Holy shit, did you not listen to me complaining to you about how hot he was? And now he’s your fucking brother? The star must’ve aligned for me! This must mean the rest of the brothers are good looking!” Hyerim squealed.

“Does Jongin not exist anymore?” you asked as you both swiped your subway passes.

“Shhh, just because I’m off the market doesn’t mean I don’t get to look,” she giggled, her pony tail swishing back and forth.

You shook your head, amused at her antics, and continued.

“Anyways, the other brother I met is some fancy-schmancy businessman. Namjoon-ssi is 25? 24? He’s older than me but graduated from college when he was just 18.”

Hyerim’s eyes took on a perverted light and she simpered underneath her hand. “Oh? Am I hearing of sugar daddy material?”

You squawked and hit her shoulder. “Hyerim, stop! These are my brothers, not matches on Tinder!”

“I don’t care, you need a boyfriend— even if it’s a secret and taboo one,” Hyerim said, pushing her hair off her shoulder.

Rolling your eyes, you sat down in a seat next to her. “Anyways, the boys invited me to dinner again tonight in hopes we’ll catch more of the boys in the house. Jin-ssi says trying to get them all in one place is like waiting for a blue moon— it’s very rare.”

“So are you going straight there or going home to change?”

Shaking your head, you gestured at a laminated white pass in your hands. “I wanted to get there early today so I can go home early. Jin-ssi drove me home last night and I don’t want him to be caught in rush hour traffic again.”

Hyerim peered at the pass in your hands. “Hannam the Hill? Hey, doesn’t Han Hyo-joo live there? The actress from Brilliant Legacy?”

Shrugging your shoulders, you leaned into the hard plastic seat. “I don’t know. Probably? All I know is that the place where they live is very ritzy and takes like two security gates to get into.”

“Okay, they’re all sugar daddy material then,” Hyerim commented. She ducked to avoid a hit over the head and you huffed, crossing your arms.

“Stop, they all do pretty well for themselves and I heard my stepmother is some fancy businesswoman from a well-to-do family. They’re just my family now.”

“The train is approaching Yangwon station. I repeat the train is approaching Yangwon station,” the bright voice announced over the intercom.

“Oh, that’s my stop,” you remembered. 

“Wait, you said you met another brother. Who is he?” Hyerim asked as she patted her nose with a compact.

The train slowed to a stop and you got up.

“My other brother is Jungkook. The one from our Calculus class? The streamer?”

Smirking, you dramatically walked away and heard Hyerim’s shriek of disbelief as you stepped onto the train platform.

————— 

“I’m sorry, what?” you asked the guard in disbelief.

“I’m sorry ma’am, but your visitor pass has expired,” the security guard said calmly, eyes scanning you detachedly. Like you were another crazy female.

You were going to kill Jin. Forget his awesome jajamyeon, you’ll bitch-slap both him and Namjoon into another dimension.

“Are you sure you can’t just let me in? Like, call the house or something,” you asked desperately, hands crumpling the visitor pass.

The guard looked like he desperately wanted to roll his eyes, but he picked up his corded phone.

“Building 10, yes?” he asked boredly.

“Yes.”

He waited for the call to be picked up but after several rings, no one picked up.

“Apologies ma’am, but no one appears to be at the house. If you’re done, I’d like to ask you to leave and come back later,” the man said with an air of finality, and turned back to his station and looked at the 6 monitors surrounding his desk.

Your mouth open, you were aghast at his lack of sympathy. He could’ve at least offered for you to let you wait! It was nearing sun down and the boys had invited you to dinner again, and it would be rude to be late.

You don’t even know why they needed this much security. Sure, Namjoon was the CEO of a large conglomeration but wasn’t as high profile as Samsung’s chairman or someone crazy like that. It wasn’t like one of your brothers was a high-profile celebrity, right?

Standing on the sidewalk and looking like an idiot, you decided to call one of your damn brothers. Huffing, you flipped open your phone and selected Jin’s contact. After several rings, the call picked up.

“Y/N?”

“Hi Jin-ssi, sorry to bother you right now. I’m sure you’re busy right now,” you apologized, accidentally meeting eyes with the security guard who stared at you suspiciously.

“You’re fine! Is everything alright?” Jin asked, his voice tinged by concern.

You bit your lip as the security guard raised an eyebrow and picked up his phone, his eyes not letting go of you the entire time.

“I’m trying to get to the house, but the guard told me the visitor pass expired,” you explained, breath hitching as the guard spoke rapidly into the phone.

Jin swore over the phone, the sound muffled as he moved his phone away from his face.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N, Namjoon and I were so sure it was still active. Sit tight wherever you are, I’m texting one of the boys to get you through the gate. Hoseok is about a few minutes away from you.”

“Um, I don’t mean to rush,” you said, eyes widening as the man gestured to get out of the guardhouse, “— but I think the guard is about to detain me.”

“Goddamn security,” Jin hissed. “I’m calling the guard office right now, I am so sorry.”

He hung up and the guard continued to advance towards you, and you grasped your phone a bit tighter. The summer humidity suddenly pressed into your skin, slipped between your waistband and collar to make you sweat. Your eyes flickered to the station. No one was in the guard office to take Jin’s call so you steeled for yourself for what was about to be an ugly confrontation.

“Ma’am, I firmly ask you to leave the premises before I am forced to—”

“Y/N!”

The guard and you turned in the direction of the sound, and you saw a man in a bright yellow windbreaker and black sport shorts somehow jogging towards you in socks and sandals.

“Y/N,” he said, out of breath, as he stopped in front of you and the security guard. He held out a hand as he put his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath.

“Hoseok-nim,” the guard bowed in respect, “Do you perhaps know this young lady?”

You got a good glimpse of him as he lifted his head and tennis cap. He pulled down his white mask and you saw his pointed nose, unfairly smooth skin, and sharp chin. You sobbed inwardly. Did all of your brothers miraculously get the luckiest scratch off tickets for the genetic jackpot? The man grinned at you and nodded in affirmative at the guard.

“Yes, I do,” Hoseok said, straightening up.

“I’m sorry, the young lady did not have the proper credentials to enter. My apologies.” The guard continued, speaking to Hoseok as if you did not exist.

Hoseok’s happy expression vanished and his brows furrowed. “Please, don’t apologize to me. My sister looked frightened. My brothers and I would appreciate it if you treated her a bit more politely.”

You hadn’t even noticed how frightened you were as you felt a drop of sweat roll down your temple and the shivers stop.

“I apologize, young lady,” the security guard said, taking off his cap and bowing politely. You smiled tightly and accepted with grace, gesturing for him to get up.

“That being said, we haven’t had time to get her resident pass processed. I’d like to add her to a list of visitors so a mix-up like this will not happen again,” Hoseok said seriously, staring down the security guard underneath his tennis logo cap and eccentric outfit. It almost put a smile to your lips, to see a beefy man in a suit and tie nearly cower under a boy at least half his age and centimeters shorter than him.

“Of course. Hoseok-nim, young lady,” he bowed, and the security guard scurried towards the office.

Hoseok turned towards you and his face brightened, rounded cheeks pulled upwards. “Hi Y/N, I’m so sorry for this mess,” he said, eyes shining with regret.

“I completely understand,” you placated. “You’re… Hoseok-ssi, right?”

He beamed. “Yes, I’m Hoseok. I’m 24, the middle brother. Please, call me oppa, we’re siblings now!”

He slung an arm over your shoulder and you couldn’t help but beam along with him. His bright energy was so infectious and immediately warmed you to him, drawing you into his orbit.

“It’s nice to meet you,” you replied, smile tugging at your lips. “I’m Y/N, 21 years old.”

“I’m so excited to have a cute younger sister,” Hoseok confessed as he walked you through the streets towards the house. “I was always jealous of my friends that could take care of their younger sisters, even though they acted like they were annoyed by them.”

You grinned more brightly. “Me too. I’ve been an only child all my life and having seven new brothers is very exciting to me.”

“You might want to take that back when you’ve met all of us,” Hoseok laughed. “You’ve met Jin-hyung, Namjoon-hyung, Jungkook-ah, right?”

Nodding, you spoke, “Yes, I have. Jin-ssi and Namjoon-ssi are very nice to me, but I don’t think Jungkook-ssi liked me very much…”

Hoseok waved it away. “Don’t worry, Kookie-ah doesn’t socialize well with girls. Or people. It took him ages to warm up to us after he got back from his grandparents.”

“Kookie-ah?” you asked curiously.

“Yes,” Hoseok grinned as he turned you onto a familiar street. “It’s our nickname for our youngest. He’s too cute not to tease.” Hoseok frowned as he remembered something. “Even though he is taller than me now.”

Hoseok was pretty tall himself, and you were starting to think that if you all took a family photo one day you’d look like the dwarf in the middle. Namjoon, Jin, and Jungkook just towered over you.

“On the other note, what do you do, Y/N? I’m curious about what my younger sister does.”

“I’m a university student at Yonsei, Hoseok-ssi,” you coughed, still not comfortable calling anybody oppa. “I’m studying psychology so I can be a counselor.”

“Yonsei? So my dongsaeng is a smart nut, I see,” Hoseok teased. “Did you know Jungkook before you met him as your brother?”

You shook your head. “I saw him around, but I only knew of him. What about you, Hoseok-ssi? What do you do?”

“I’m a dancer,” Hoseok announced, the house getting closer in view. “I’m part of this dance group, Neuron. We travel to perform and compete in competitions.”

“That’s awesome!” you clapped. “You must be very persistent. I tried ballet when I was younger and it was a disaster.”

“I haven’t heard that before,” Hoseok said, looking curiously at you. “Most people have told me I must be very talented or pull girls easily. But you’re right, I worked very hard.”

“What can I say?” you shrugged. “I just see through people.”

Hoseok guided you up the front steps of the doorway, fumbling through his pants to get his key. As he unlocked the front door, you heard the rumbling of a car going through the streets.

Going at least 100 kilometers per hour, a metallic blue Lamborghini skidded to a halt in front of the house. The weird doors stretched upwards and you saw both Jin and Namjoon emerge from the car.

“Y/N? Baby? Are you alright?” Jin asked worriedly, running up the front door.

“I’m good, Jin-ssi,” you comforted but he ignored it, taking your face in your hands and tilting your head to his view.

“Aish, those damn security guards!” Jin complained, clutching you to his chest and turning to Namjoon. “It’s your fault! Why did you give her that pass! She could’ve been detained! Put into cuffs like—like a criminal!” he ended dramatically.

Namjoon looked flabbergasted. “Me? You’re the one who got it!”

As the two descended into bickering, you peered at Hoseok from in between Jin’s arms. Your eyes screamed save me!

Hoeseok helpfully pried you from the still arguing doctor’s arms.

“Sorry about that, Jin is a bit protective over all of us— he practically raised us. We call him our mom sometimes,” Hoseok revealed, getting you into the house and leaving the now huffing and puffing duo on the doorsteps.

Next Chapter: Press [ X ] for the Moody Type, Taehyung! 

Chapter 7: Enter the Moody Type, Taehyung!

As you entered the house, the faint strings of what might be a Daniel Caesar song flowed throughout the house.

“Oh goodie, Taehyung must be here!,” Jin clapped, setting down his keys on a hook near the door. 

Namjoon snorted. “He’s the only one of us that listens to this moody shit.”

Through drought and famine, natural disaster, my baby has been around for me.

A door slammed somewhere on the ground level, and the click clack of heeled boots echoed like muffled gunshots on the marble of the house.

Kingdoms have fallen, angels be calling, none of that could ever make me leave.

Turning the corner, your heart stopped.

Leaning on the wooden doorway was the most heart-breakingly beautiful man you’ve ever laid eyes upon. His dyed ash-grey hair was messy around his face, but behind his bangs peeked half-lidded eyes shaped like tear drops. A strong nose and pink lips, like the petals of a flower, were parted open as he stared through you.

“Oh? Is this our new sister?” he said softly, his gravelly voice filling the hall.

You grinned uneasily, fighting off the urge to cover yourself with a blanket or something. It wasn’t that his gaze was improper; those mercurial eyes just seemed to look through you.

“Taehyung, meet Y/N. She is our stepfather’s daughter,” Jin said carefully, eyes flicking between you like a tennis match.

It’s not fair, you thought. His clothes shouldn’t even match. The silky sleeveless tee had a paintbrush stroke across the chest and was bunched into baggy canvas pants covered in paint. It should’ve made him look like those wacky tube inflatables near car dealerships yet he looked like he walked out of a magazine.

“It’s nice to see you, Y/N,” Taehyung nearly whispered, head tilted to the side like he was evaluating a particular interesting museum installation. He made no move to shake your hand or embrace you.

“And you too, Taehyung-ssi,” you replied, bowing politely. He inclined his head.

“Well, I better get back to my red room. My pretties are coming along nicely,” Taehyung pronounced matter-a-factly, spinning sharply around to disappear into the dimly lit hall.

Namjoon face-palmed. “Well, now it sounds like he has a kinky sex dungeon. He just sees the world a bit differently than us, that’s all. It took some time for us to interpret his words when he came to us; for example, his pretties are his photographs.” The businessman looked suddenly pensieve. “Perhaps that’s why he’s so good at what he does.”

“Oh? What does Taehyung-ssi do?” you inquired, feeling like a strong breeze had swept into the room and left as suddenly as it came. You know that feeling? Where your skin tingles in the aftermath, your lips are suddenly dry, and like you could be knocked over the lightest touch.

“He’s a magazine editor, Y/N-ah,” Hoseok grins, putting down his heavy dancer bag on the couch carelessly. “It’s this really new-age, artsy magazine with a cult following. Maybe you’ve seen it? I think he named it something cryptic like ‘V’.”

“I’ll look into it, then,” you beamed, hoping to diffuse the weird tension that had settled on your shoulders.

———- 

Hoseok excused himself to take a shower and Namjoon had to take an important phone call, so it was just you and Jin left.

“Well, I know us five are at least here, and I know Jungkook is due to arrive soon from the gym. However, I don’t know if someone is going to drop by so I just leave an extra plate in the fridge just in case,” Jin said, stroking his chin.

“So, what’s on the menu today?” you asked playfully, taking a seat on the barstool.

Jin ruffled through the fridge, the fluorescent light highlighting his casual t-shirt. “Well, with what we have in the fridge, I can make some Chap-Chae and perhaps Kimchi Jjigae. However, we’d have a lot of chicken left and we need to eat it soon. Hm…”

“Jin-ssi, I know a good chicken recipe. Dakgangjeong? It’s this crispy fried chicken slathered in sweet and spicy sauce.”

The doctor frowned for a moment, leaning against the countertop.

“Is someone allergic? Or doesn’t like Chicken?” you asked worriedly, biting your lips.

Jin shook his head and chuckled. “No, everyone really likes fried chicken here. I’m just trying to remember if we have the ingredients.”

“That’s a relief, because it’s one of my favorite comfort meals.”

Opening the pantry, he bent down to look for something. “I think we do have everything here, thank goodness,” he grinned at you as he got up. “Do you cook a lot?”

“Yup, it’s my hobby,” you revealed, washing your hands at the sink. “I had to learn how to give myself food as a child.”

“Okay, awesome! You get started on the chicken and I’ll do the other dishes,” Jin said brightly, putting some ingredients on the table.

“Sounds good to me!”

You probably weren’t meant to hear it, but Jin giggled underneath his breath, “I have a sous-chef now.”

————

You put the finishing garnishes on your chicken and stepped back. The glaze looked very savory underneath the kitchen lights and dipping your finger into your glaze pot, it also tasted very good as well.

By the looks of it, Jin had finished with his two dishes. Wiping his hands with a towel, he put his hands on his hips and yelled, “Children! Get down here to eat, you punks!” 

As soon as you set down your plate of chicken, a multitude of footsteps resounded throughout the house.

Namjoon strode in first, only in a white shirt and trousers, and nodded coolly at you. The man looked very attractive out of his form-fitting workwear, and you wish your gaze hadn’t lingered on his tan, exposed skin.

Hoseok and Jungkook came in second, rough-housing with each other in the doorway before taking their seats. Hoseok greeted you brightly but Jungkook stared at you without a word before averting his gaze.

Finally, V came into the dining room in a more casual outfit of an oversized shirt and lounge pants, but still exuded an air of effortless grace. He grinned at everyone and plopped down into his chair.

“Alright everyone, eat up!” Jin fussed, setting down the steaming hot bowl and plate he was somehow carrying. You trailed after him with your dish grasped with both hands, hoping you wouldn’t accidentally trip and spill your hard work over the very expensive carpet.

You had to lean over Jungkook to place your chicken in the middle and you heard a startled “eep!” from beside you.

“Jungkook-ssi, are you alright?” You asked, sitting down in your seat next to him.

He nodded wordlessly, his ears red and gaze intensely focused on his plate. Running your eyes over him, you shrugged and grabbed your chopsticks.

The whole family dug in, loud and boisterous as people argued over which cut was better and devolved into personal attacks. Something warm curled up in your chest and warmed your cheeks, hoping to constrain the ridiculous smile that threatened to split your face. Is this how family looks like?

Watching Jungkook engage Taehyung in a very one sided conversation about the benefits of eating a certain part of the meat versus the other was very different than your empty apartment and lukewarm food.

“Wah, hyung, you’ve really outdid yourself with the chicken,” Hoseok gushed as he took a big bite of your chicken. “Please make it for us more!”

Jin chuckled, and set his chopsticks down. “I didn’t make it, so you’d have to ask her if you want more.”

Namjoon, with a strange light in his eyes, gestured to the nearly empty chicken plate with his chopsticks. “You… made this?”

Nodding in affirmative, you took a sip of your cola and cleared your throat. “Yes, I hope you guys liked it.”

Jungkook choked on his water and Jin rushed over to roughly pat his back. “Breath Jungkookie, breath!”

Hoseok yelled in delight and took out his handphone. “My cute little sister made this for me? Wow, my friends are going to be so jealous!” he grinned, snapping a few nice pictures of your glazed chicken.

Jungkook recovered at this point and was trying to fend off mother-hen Jin. “Hyung, I’m fine! I swear! You don’t have to baby me!,” he whined, cheeks red. “Besides, it was probably a bone or something.”

Your oldest brother huffed and sat back roughly into his seat, muttering something about ungrateful kids, while you tried to roll Jungkook’s comment over in your head. Bone? You used boneless chicken?

Deciding to push it away from your mind, you discreetly glanced at your cell phone and realized it was nearing 8 o’clock.

“Oh dear,” you muttered, catching the attention of the men at the table. “It’s almost 8 o’clock and I need to get home to water my plants,” you fretted.

As if on cue, a crack of thunder shook the table and you heard the rain start to hound at the windows and walls.

“Well, I be-leaf they’re getting watered,” Jin commented, cleaning up the last parts of his plate.

Staring at him in disbelief, you started to giggle and soon you were clutching your stomach with how hard you were laughing. 

“Did she like his shitty joke that much?” Jungkook whispered not so discreetly to Namjoon, who looked a bit weirded out himself.

“I’ve- I’ve never met a man with such awful jokes,” you laughed, wiping a tear from your eyes. “But I can’t help finding them so funny.”

The doctor aha-ed and pointed at Jungkook. “See? My jokes are so bad that they’re good!”

Snorting in disbelief, the youngest brother leaned back into his chair with his arms crossed over his built chest. “She’s our sister, she’s obligated to,” he murmurs sulkily. He sneaks a peek at you and you giggle at his adorable moodiness, to which he reddens and avoids your gaze.

Namjoon looked worriedly out the window, quickly turning on the news with his phone.

“— strong windstorms and rains are going to be surrounding Seoul overnight—”

“I can’t, in good conscience, let you go back home in this weather,” Namjoon stated, eyes flickering between you and the loud weather outside.

You hesitated. You were kind of worried for Mr. Ukyo, your cute succulent on the porch. “I—”

“Y/N, please,” Hoseok begged. “What kind of brothers would we be if we left you alone tonight? Stay in. We have a guest room with all the stuff you need.”

“I… okay. Thank you guys,” you smiled uneasily.

Hoseok laughed and patted your back as he got up to put his plate away.

“Sleepover…” Taehyung mumbled as he passed by you. On his way out the door, he gave you a boxy smile that tugged at something in your head.

Next Chapter: Press [ X ] for the Cool Type, Yoongi! 

Chapter 7: Enter the Cool Type, Yoongi!

“Hi, my cute dongsaeng!” announced Hoseok as he strode into your guest room. “I come bearing gifts!”

You grinned at your exuberant brother as he danced through your doorway, having a pile of stuff in his arms.

“We usually don’t have guests over, but sometimes our mother stays at the house and now we have a bunch of, uh, woman stuff,” Hoseok coughed.

“Thank you, Hoseok-ssi,” you said, moving to sort through the items.

“Call me oppa,” Hoseok whined.

Namjoon peeked through your doorway and saw Hoseok pouting at you, and instantly wacked the back of his head.

“Yah, you literally just met her today. Let her grow more comfortable with us first,” the businessman scolded, before turning to you.

“We have some t-shirts and shorts that don’t fit Jungkook anymore but please don’t tell him that we kept his childhood items,” Namjoon shook his head, a smile tugging at his lips. “I got you a toothbrush and toothpaste, plus some face products.

“You’re really kind, I feel like I’m in a hotel,” you joked, moving to plug your phone into the wall outlet. The place felt like your hotel suite suddenly got upgraded. This guest room was bigger than your entire living room and everything was so nicely decorated, you couldn’t help but gawk like a tourist at the fancy light fixtures and furniture. Maybe if you broke a vase you’d have to work in a host club...

“Ah, really? That’s nice to hear,” Namjoon said, sitting down in an armchair near the window overlooking Seoul and the Han River. He steepled his fingers together, tilting his head at you. “However, if you moved in, this room would be yours.”

Your slight smile turned slightly downwards and Hoseok, sensing the change of mood easily, turned over and whacked Namjoon over his head.

“Who’s the one going too fast now?” Hoseok retorted, before plopping down on the chair opposite of Namjoon.

“No, no, you’re fine, Namjoon-ssi,” you acknowledged. “I just… I don’t want to intrude. Plus, the amount of testosterone in this building…” you trailed off.

“Y/N-ah, we just met you but we already know you’d be a good fit with our family,” Hoseok said, smiling softly at you. “Seriously.”

“I don’t want to seem overbearing and I know you’re very independent, but the idea of you living alone worries Jin-hyung and I,” Namjoon confessed, wringing his hands and looking towards the window. “What happens if there is any emergency? Or you got sick? It’d be hard for us to take care of you.”

Tears welled up at the edge of your vision and your mouth twitched downwards. Quickly pressing a hand to your mouth, you averted your eyes from the boys.

“Y/N-ssi, what’s wrong? Are you alright?” Namjoon asked worriedly, getting up from the armchair.

You waved him away, discreetly wiping your nose. “I-I’m fine, Namjoon-ssi. Really. I’m just really emotional all the sudden, that’s all.”

“Y/N-ah, are you sure?” Hoseok piped in concern, craning his neck to see your face.

A hand thrust some tissues in front of you and you took them gratefully, dabbing at your eyes.

“I- I just…” you sucked a breath in, and turned towards the fretful pair of brothers. You suddenly beamed at them, eyes crinkling into crescents and grin splitting your cheeks despite the visible tear tracks on your cheeks. “I’ve never had someone care for me. Thank you.”

The two boys felt their heart stutter at the surprisingly vulnerable confession from the ever-polite yet distant you. They shared a look.

We’re in trouble.

———-

The house quieted down and all the lights were turned out as the rain seemed to get louder. However, despite the busy day, you tossed and turned in the very comfy cotton sheets.

Turning on your side, you watched the rain stream down your window in awe. While the window was big, a building partially blocked your view of the Han river and the Seoul skyline. You unplugged your phone from the charger on the wall and looked at the time. 1 A.M.

For some reason, you couldn’t sleep. Perhaps it was the unfamiliar environment or the dozens of thoughts crowding your head, but you couldn’t force your head to turn off despite counting hundreds of sheep.

Letting out a frustrated groan, you untangled yourself from the sheets and set your feet on the heated marble. Padding quietly to the door, you tried your best to open and close the heavy wooden door softly.

The house seemed bigger when it was not filled by the loud voices and eclectic, varied personalities of your brothers. Clutching a throw blanket over your shoulders, you made your way down the stairwell with only the city’s lights shining through the large, floor-to-ceiling windows around the house.

Flicking the low lights on in the kitchen, you searched the many cabinets for where they kept their tea packets. You finally found a jar of chamomile tea in a corner of the pantry, turning on the tea kettle and waiting for it to boil.

Leaning against the corner, your eyes got accustomed to the dark of the living room and roved over the personal effects of the brothers. There was a large picture of all seven boys on the mantle of the fireplace with their mother sitting in the middle, however, you could not see the faces of the two brothers you had not met due to the reflection in the glass.

Could you see yourself living here? With the amiable and fussy Jin, and the mature, erudite Namjoon? Wake up every morning to see the infectiously bright Hoseok at the counter and the mercurial Taehyung floating through the house like a wraith? Even go to school with your confusing classmate, Jungkook?

The kettle whistled loudly and you took it off its burner, pouring water into a cup. Flicking off the underhead lights in the kitchen, you padded towards the living room and curled up on the outrageously soft, leather couch. Blowing on your tea, you took a sip as you gazed in wonder at the rain streaming rivers over the large, bay window.

For years, the rain had been your only friend when your father traipsed the globe. It had softly knocked at your window to check if you were okay when you were sick and playfully splashed you when you were sad. The rain sang you to sleep every night when you were young and alone, afraid of the thundering din outside.

Looking at the portrait of the seven boys, you saw a new family.

Smiling into your tea cup, your mind was made up.

A loud beep rang throughout the house and a click reached your ears. Your eyes tried to look through the darkness at the basement entrance, where a figure clad in all black emerged. Feeling a momentary panic seize your heart, your fingers tightened over your mug and you tried to think straight. This was probably your other brother, Yoongi or Chimmy.

“Oh? Who are you?” A raspy voice said, shutting the door behind him. “Are you one of my brother’s girlfriends?”

Shaking your head, you got to your feet. “No, I’m your new sister, Y/N L/N.”

The figure made an affirmative noise and removed his shoes at the massive shoe closet next to the entrance. “Ah, I see. I’m Yoongi, your second oldest brother.”

A crack of thunder shook the house and a few seconds later, bright white lightning flashed through the room and illuminated you both.

In that split second, you saw pitch black hair constrained by a headband. However, what caught your attention was his eyes. Contrasted against pale skin and fierce, arched brows, were lids shaped like the outstretched wing of a bird. He stared at you lazily before they widened minutely.

“It’s nice to meet you too, Yoongi-ssi.”

“You too,” he mumbled and bowed politely, shuffling up the stairs like a gloomy specter.

You blinked a bit at how calmly he took this into stride. Christ, were your brothers fazed by anything?

—————

“Y/N-ah. Y/N-ah, wake up!”

You groggily opened your eyes to see Jin close to your face, his brows bunched together in concern.

“Y/N-ah, are you alright? You’re on the couch.”

Straightening up you could see that you, indeed, were still on the couch. You must’ve fallen asleep while watching the rain.

“Oh, yeah, I am,” you stated, rubbing your eyes and yawning. “I must’ve fallen asleep here last night.”

Jin sat across you and looked worried. “Did something happen last night? Was the guest room not comfortable? Did—”

“Oh no, nothing like that!” you tried to say. “The sound of the rain was better here.” 

He looked at you strangely but accepted it with a shrug of his shoulders. “Anyway, I’m about to make breakfast, why don’t you clean up a bit? I’ll wake up the other brothers.”

You nodded and almost stumbled trying to get off the couch, before Jin caught you with an arm. You turned your head to see his face uncomfortably close to yours.

“Careful,” he whispered, his minty breath trailing across your cheeks and his eyes roving your face.

You felt your cheeks heat up before you almost threw yourself out of his touch. “Yeah, um, thank you!” you yelled behind you before you fled to upstairs.

————

By the time you cleaned your face and put on a bra, all of the boys— in various states of consciousness— were gathered around the dining counter.

“Y/N-ah!” Hoseok said enthusiastically, obviously one of the more awake ones. He wore a pair of flowered pants that ahjummas usually wore and white, long-sleeved tee. “Yoongi came in last night, he’s our other brother.”

“We met last night, Hoseok-ah,” Yoongi mumbled into a large cup that, hilariously, was engraved with the words “Daddy-Size”. “I came home around 1 AM and saw her on the couch.”

“Oh, was everything alright?” Namjoon inquired politely, stretching his broad muscles as he yawned. Even his loungewear looked professional.

Smiling uneasily, you took a seat at the counter next to Jungkook, whose head was buried in his arm. “Yeah, couldn’t sleep and the city lights calmed me down,” you reassured.

Jungkook suddenly jerked awake next to you, alarmed eyes peeking through his messy black hair. “H-huh?”

You grinned at him. “Good morning, Jungkook-ssi.”

He mumbled a good morning in the direction of the ground before his eyes zoomed into something at your collarbone.

‘Y/N-ssi, i-is that my shirt?” he asked shyly— the first words he has directed towards you.

You looked at the oversized navy shirt, which you had tucked into the pair of denim shorts you wore yesterday. “I think? Namjoon told me it was one of your own.”

His gaze whipped to Namjoon and he started sputtering as Namjoon snickered, putting on a pair of thick-framed glasses.

Suddenly, Jin swore as he looked at his phone. “Sorry guys, but there’s an emergency at the hospital. I need to go,” he said rushedly, racing to the closest to put on a pair of tennis shoes. “Yoongi, cook for them!”

He shut the basement door with a slam and suddenly the house was silent.

“Yoongi-hyung, please,” Taehyung, who had emerged from some hallway, begged with a pout on his petal lips. His voice was extra raspy this morning.

The black-haired man grunted before hiding his face behind his coffee cup. You took that as a no.

“We’re going to starve,” Jungkook complained into Hoseok’s shoulder, who cooed and patted the muscled man cutely.

“Well, I can cook for us if you’d like? As a thank you for letting me stay over?” you said nervously. All eyes turned towards you and you gulped, not used to having all of your brothers’ attention on you.

“That’d be lovely,” Namjoon said, squinting at a novel he had produced out of nowhere.

“Aw, is our cute dongsaeng going to cook for us? I’m living the dream,” Hoseok sighed dramatically.

You snorted and got out of your seat. “I saw enough ingredients for what I want to cook, so just sit tight.”

The boys thanked you and some exited the kitchen towards the living room. You tried to remember where you saw the ingredients yesterday, but the kitchen was extremely big and had those weird cabinets where you had to push in a certain corner to open.

“Uh, where are the onions?” you asked no one in particular.

“Yoongi-hyung,” Hoseok nudged the still tired looking man. “Next to Jin, you know the kitchen the best.”

The black-haired sighed heavily and got out of his seat, leaving the “Daddy-Size cup” on the counter. He opened the fridge and bent down to a drawer you hadn’t seen. “Green onions.”

You took the bag and thanked, expecting him to leave the kitchen. “What else do you need?”

He stood there, eyes boring a hole through your face. Even as he was sleepy, he still looked like a cool older brother.

Scanning the ingredients, counting the things you had and didn’t, you turned back to him. “Um, I just need butter, tomatoes, and cheese.”

Wordlessly, he grabbed the ingredients and set it down on the counter next to you. Really expecting he’d leave, he surprised you by pulling out a chopping board and knife.

“How do you need the onions and tomatoes cut, Y/N-ssi?” he asked roughly, raspy voice causing the hair at the nape of your neck to rise. You shook your head. He’s your brother, for god’s sake!

“I need both diced, but slice some of the tomato into thin wedges for presentation,” you asked politely.

He nodded and washed both of the vegetables, before quickly and neatly dicing them with an experienced hand.

You broke the eggs and as you whisked the egg mixture with a pair of chopsticks, you decided to break the silence.

“How old are you, Yoongi-ssi?” 

He didn’t pause in his slicing. “25 years old. How about you?”

“21, but turning 22 soon.”

Yoongi hummed and started on the tomatoes. “Ah, that means you’re university age then. Are you attending university right now?”

Nodding, you grabbed some salt and pepper to add flavor to the omelette.  “Yeah, I’m actually attending Yonsei with Jungkook-ssi. What about you?”

“I’m a freelance producer,” he said carelessly, neatly scraping diced tomato onto a plate. “But I graduated from an arts college overseas in classical performance.”

It seemed like many of the brothers were artistically-inclined, you noted as you washed the spinach. But it amused you that this cool-looking brother of yours, with pierced ears and effortlessly stylish street clothes, could play a fancy-looking instrument.

Your step brother cleared his throat and he stepped back. “Is there anything else you need me to do?”

You looked at the finely chopped tomatoes and onions and shook your head. “No, that’s all. Thank you for helping out.”

He inclined his head and padded out of the kitchen, collapsing on the couch with his hoodie over his head.

Turning on the heat, you put the omelette mixture in the pan and waited for it to cook through. As you were gathering the other ingredients to put in the pan, a chin nestled itself onto your shoulder.

“Oh? What is this?” a deep, husky voice rumbled next to your ear.

You nearly jumped out of your skin when you saw Taehyung’s finely chiseled face so close to yours. Squeaking, you turned your attention back to the pan.

“Breakfast omelettes, Taehyung-ssi,” you replied a bit shakily, feeling the weight of his head on your shoulder and his breath puffing into your ear. “I hope you like it.”

Adjusting his bent over position, he wrapped his arms around your waist and buried his face into the crook of your neck. “I will, Y/N-ah. It’ll be delicious.”

Your face flamed and you willed the egg to cook faster, trying not to focus on how his large hands pressed warmly into your stomach.

“Hyung!” Jungkook exclaimed, barrelling out of nowhere. “Hyung, you can’t do that! Stop!” 

“Oh? Why not?” the editor asked monotonously, his lips moving over the sensitive skin of your neck. You stiffened and muffled a squeal, neary getting hot oil over your fingers. Your muscled classmate tried, unsuccessfully, to tug Taehyung’s arms from your body but for some reason, Taehyung’s hold on you was ironclad.

In the midst of Jungkook screaming in the background and the shouts of your other brothers, Taehyung sighed heavily and melted into your body. “I miss this,” he murmured.

Next Chapter: Press [ X ] for the Cheeky Type, Jimin! 

Chapter 8: Enter the Cheeky Type, Jimin!

Over the next few days, you slowly got used to the vibrant and varied personalities of the boys. The brothers were a rowdy bunch but they coaxed you out of your shell with unintentional hilarity and clumsy warmth. Even Jungkook, with your weird first meeting, took to accompanying you throughout school and engaging you in shy conversation. Visiting the house frequently, someone was always there to entertain you and coerce you into trying to move into the house.

However, as the days passed by, you saw neither hide nor hair of the mysterious seventh brother. None of the brothers seemed to be fazed. One day, as Namjoon drove you home, you decided to press the subject.

“Namjoon-ssi? Who is my seventh brother? I haven’t heard much of him,” you inquired shyly.

He hummed, leaning an arm casually against the window and driving between lanes with just one hand. Namjoon didn’t drive as recklessly as Jungkook, per se, but he seemed to think other cars were just nuisances on the road.

“I was wondering when you’d ask about that. Our other brother is not home a lot because he’s usually on tour,” Namjoon revealed in his deep voice. “He’s an idol.”

You gasped and looked at Namjoon in surprise. “You’re fucking with me.”

He chuckled, a chocolatey, rich sound that filled your ears and did funny things to your belly as he turned to exit the highway. “No, I’m not. Our little Chimmy is an idol.”

Taking out your phone, you opened up the web app. “Chimmy? Is that his name? Or does he have a stage name I need to find.”

Namjoon shook his head. “No, his name is Jimin. 23 years old, debuted 3 years ago.”

Smacking your head, you exclaimed, “Oh wait! I know him! I saw his birthday ads all over Seoul a few days ago. Wow, my brother is a celebrity, huh?” 

Typing his name into the search bar, millions of results popped into your browser. Gorgeous, fan-taken photos filled the image section and you clicked on one.

Wow. Jimin looked ethereal on stage, in a loose, white shirt and tight, black pants as he performed some sort of strenuous dance move. His plump lips, sharp jawline, and high cheekbones were still stunning in low quality photos. You were seriously starting to think your stepmother secretly paid for them from a lab. It really wasn’t fair that you, an average 4, were now related to solid fifteens. 

You clicked on a video with nearly 12 million views of him at a fanmeet event, his eyes crinkling and lips pulled up in a grin as he did aegyo for his adoring fans.

“He’s very popular, isn’t he?” you asked Namjoon rhetorically.

Namjoon snorted. “An understatement. We can’t go out in public with him unless he covers his hair and his entire face. He has security tailing him when we go to crowded places, it’s ridiculous.”

Something clicked in your head. “Ah!” you exclaimed. “That’s why you guys live there! And here I was, thinking you were all paranoid.”

His laugh filled the car again and you got a whiff of his musky cologne as he leaned over to adjust the air conditioner. “Yeah, even when we moved there a few years ago before Jimin’s popularity exploded, he had some crazy fans. Seoyeon, Jin, and I decided to choose Hannam Hill for their security.”

“You’re such good brothers,” you grinned at him. You swore you saw a hint of red beneath his collar as he cleared his throat.

“And we’re lucky we’re gaining such a good… sister.”

You tapped at your purse. “At least with my residence pass I won’t be detained now.”

The man next to you groaned and nearly facepalmed into the driver’s wheel.

“Do you have to remind me of this? I take it back, my sister sucks.”

——— 

Jungkook and you walked through the campus gates, finished with the Calculus class and exhausted after the test.

“Wait, shit, did I derive number eighteen right?” you fretted, your sweaty hands fiddling with your bag strap. “Oh my god now, I didn’t foil correctly!”

“Relax, Y/N, you did fine,” Jungkook snorted, no longer as painfully shy as he was when he first met you. You never did get why he had such a violent reaction to you at first, though.

“Easy for you to say, Mr. I-don’t-study-yet-I-still-get-A’s,” you huffed in annoyance, accidentally bumping shoulders with him.

He laughed and wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. An ‘eep!’ escaped your mouth but you found you couldn’t protest as Jungkook looked down at you with the cutest, bunny smile you had seen.

“Relax, Y/N. It’s just one test.”

You sulked and crossed your arms, trying to push the heat in your cheeks away. Clearing your throat you ducked from underneath his arms. You thought you saw a flash of disappointment in Jungkook’s face, but you quickly linked arms with him so you could walk more comfortably. His eyes widened and he looked upwards, the tips of his ears a flaming red.

Ignoring several stares from your fellow university students, you walked to the campus parking lot where Jungkook had parked his car.

“Jungkook-ah? Which car did you drive today?” you asked, flushing a bit as you heard your own words. Imagine what the you from a few weeks ago would’ve said. What kind of rich bitch did you turn into?

“The silver one. The Mercedes,” he said casually but you knew he was beaming with pride. He had revealed to you, one day when driving home, that he bought this car with his streaming money and not with cash from his brothers or family. Jungkook was insanely protective of this car. 

“Gotcha.”

Throwing your bags into the backseat, he started up the car. Feeling that it was a bit hot, you decided to roll down the window. Fumbling for a hair tie in your bag, you decided that putting your hair up would be smart.

“—gry, Y/N?”

“Huh?” you asked confusion, hair tie in your mouth. 

“I just asked if you were hungry, Y/N?” he said, voice trailing off in a question as he looked up from his phone. His eyes widened at you.

“Um, not really? But if you are, I can whip us up something once we get home,” you said confidently, twisting your hair into the tie. Huh, when did you start calling it home?

“... Jungkook?”

He nervously cleared his throat as you looked at him, pulling back your hair into the tie. The tip of his ears were red and he seemed a bit flustered. Your brother fumbled with the controls, accidentally turning on the windshield wipers. Biting back a smile, you smoothed down your hair.

“Yeah, that’s fine.”

————— 

The house was silent as the two of you entered. It seemed no one was in the house today, all of your brothers very busy with their respective jobs.

“I’m going to take a shower, Y/N, “ Jungkook said as he climbed up the stairwell. 

You hummed affirmative as you threw your bag at the foot of the coffee table, collapsing into the comfy leather couch. Switching on the TV, you couldn’t find anything interesting so you settled on an entertainment channel.

“Thousands of fans crowded Incheon Airport’s International Terminal today…”

Snuggling into a sun spot on the couch, you nuzzled your face into a pillow. The warmth made you feel drowsy and you decided a quick nap was alright. Nodding off, you could hear the shower turn on upstairs.

“...as international Hallyu star Jimin arrived back in Korea …”

—————

“Oh? Who are you?”

You groggily opened your eyes to the high-pitched voice that was honey to your ears, an unconscious “huh?” coming out of your mouth. In your bleary vision, you saw lavender-blonde hair and pink, plump lips hovering above you.

The man snickered and you felt a smooth hand grasp your jaw to turn your head upwards. Your eyes focused and you swore you were still dreaming, because the face so close to yours could only be an angel’s. Ethereal eyes like a storm looked lazily down at you, his high cheekbones and narrow jaw highlighted by the warm light of golden hour.

“Are you a fan? You shouldn’t be here,” he scolded in a sing-song voice, clicking his tongue as he stroked a thumb over your chin.

You couldn’t think after being awoken from such a deep REM cycle and being near such an unearthly man, your thoughts jumbled and disjointed.

“Naughty, naughty girl,” he whispered, minty breath puffing against your face. “Well, if you’re here, I might as well make the most of it.”

With strength you hadn’t expected, he suddenly caged you into the couch— a leg between yours and the other on the floor, his hands trapping your hands above your heads. His silk shirt brushed against the exposed skin of your belly, making you shiver.

“H-hey!” you said, regaining your thoughts. “What the hell?”

He chuckled, a cruel edge to his voice as his face neared yours. “Oh, playing the innocent card are we?” His lips neared your ear and you froze, eyes wide as his plump lips brushed against your earlobe. “Don’t worry, baby girl, you’re pretty enough to pull it off.”

The man started to press a kiss at space between your ear and neck, and slowly started to trail down your sensitive neck. You inhaled sharply as his teeth and tongue prodded at your skin and he snickered, his voice vibrating against your skin. An involuntarily squeak left your lips as he bit playfully at your collarbone.

“H-Hyung?”

You both turned to see Jungkook, hair still wet from the shower, staring at you two in disbelief. His eyes were wide and his lips were opened in shock as he suddenly froze in the middle of the living room.

“Jungkookie!” the man said brightly, no trace of the breathy, seductive voice he had used to lull you into a trance. His limbs no longer trapped you as the lavender haired man sprang up and ran to the stock-still Jungkook.

“Aw, Jungkookie, I missed you,” the familiar yet still unknown man cooed as he clung to Jungkook’s broad shoulders. “It’s been so long,” he whined, lips pursed in a pout.

Still breathless from lavender boy’s attentions, you sat up on the couch and saw stars as the blood rushed to your head. Blinking to clear it away, you reached up to your neck to touch the spots where lavender boy had touched.

“Jungkook-ah?” you whispered, voice rough from lack of use. “Who’s this?”

Your classmate still stared at you in shock as lavender boy clung to him like a leech, cooing at Jungkook.

“Aw, is this your girlfriend, Jungkookie?” Angel boy said fretfully after a moment of silence. “I’m so sorry, I thought she was a fan! Forgive me!”

You cleared your throat nervously, righting your disheveled clothes and messy hair. “Look, I have no idea who the hell you are, but I am not Jungkook’s girlfriend nor your fan and either way, you should not be— be assaulting unsuspecting girls who just wanted to nap!”

“Who the hell am I?” Lavender boy retorted rudely, no longer seductive or cutesy as his eyes narrowed at you. “I live here, wench!”

“Well I’m about to, fool!” you sneered, crossing your arms.

“Jungkook-ie, call security as I deal with this clearly crazy lady!” The still unknown boy huffed, advancing towards you.

Jungkook finally got out of his trance and grabbed Jimin by the shoulder. “Jimin-Hyung, stop! Haven’t we talked about her in the groupchat a lot? She’s our new sister!”

Jimin froze and his eyebrows lifted minutely, whirling around to look at Jungkook. “Wait, what? We have a sister now?”

He looked at you differently, eyes scanning your figure disinterestedly. “Did Seoyeon—” he spat out the name like it was stale gum in his mouth, “—find another baby we didn’t know about? Another poor bastard like me?”

You got whiplash with how much he changed moods and started to inch away. Well, it seemed like your step brother was nothing like how he portrayed himself in the videos you had seen online about him. A frown pushed at your lips.

Jungkook pinched the bridge of his nose. “No, hyung, mom got married again to Y/N’s father. She’s our new step sister now.”

Jimin stayed silent before he turned to you again, his eyes mocking. A shit-eating smirk crawled up his lips. “Well, sister dearest, welcome to the family!”

Arc: Character Introductions Ended. Press [ X ] to continue?

A/N: If you’ve watched BroCon and you’re curious to who each person is based on, here’s the guide:

Jin (Doctor) = A mixture of Uyko and Masaomi

Namjoon (Businessman) = Natsume

Jungkook (Gamer/ Uni Student) = Yusuke

Hoseok (Dancer) = Himself lol he was supposed to be Subaru but i didn’t want to make him super angsty. Don’t worry, in this story he’ll be more than just his stage persona :)))

Taehyung (Magazine editor) = Louis

Yoongi (Producer) = mixture of Yuusuke’s tsundere-ness and Iori’s calmness

Jimin (Idol) = Fuuto with a bit of Tsubaki’s personality

Anyways, if you enjoyed it, please comment and reblog!!! I appreciate any feedback you may have, whether it be a sentence or a whole dang paragraph— I love it all :))) Please, if you’re doing okay, please help me pay for school through my Ko-Fi (link in my profile).

Arc II: Decisions and Settling In will be released in a month!! Comment if you’d like to be tagged :))

[buoyantsaturn]

I’m all eyes (1/1)

summary: So, obviously, if Nico was wearing Jason’s sweatshirt, then they must be dating, right?

word count: 1,871

read on ao3

Will didn’t think he was the jealous type. Jealousy required some amount of anger, right? But he wasn’t angry - maybe just disappointed. And really, he didn’t even have all of the facts, so he shouldn’t let himself get worked up over it anyway. 

It’s just that, well. It sucked to always look over at the Big Three table to see Nico in that giant purple SPQR sweatshirt. Or, it didn’t suck - it was a good look, and purple was definitely Nico’s color, as much as Will would prefer to see him in camp orange. The part that sucked was that Jason was always sitting beside him, and that sweatshirt definitely looked like it was Jason’s size. 

So, obviously, if Nico was wearing Jason’s sweatshirt, then they must be dating, right? And on the one hand, it was exciting, because that meant Nico was into guys, which meant that Will might have a chance with him (and bonus points because he, too, was tall, blond, and blue-eyed). On the other hand, Nico was taken, and Will wasn’t a homewrecker (or whatever the fifteen year old version of a homewrecker was).

Anyway, Will had a lot of mixed feelings about seeing Nico in that sweatshirt. And he kept having those mixed feelings when he started to see more and more of Nico around camp. He would come by the archery range while Will was practicing with his shotgun (on his own target that he’d made specifically for shooting practice). He had started going to campfires (where he would pull the sweatshirt over his knees and turn himself into an adorable purple blob). He’d even started coming by the infirmary every few days so that Will could make sure he was keeping his fading in check (so, to be fair, Will had asked him to stop by occasionally, but that was for purely medical reasons).

On one particularly hot day in September, Nico entered the infirmary sans sweatshirt, and Will’s heart jumped in his chest. Sure, he’d seen Nico without that sweatshirt on a few times before, but he’d reacted the same way then, too. He tried to act normal, checking Nico’s solidity and making sure that his arms and legs still cast shadows, but the second Piper stepped into the infirmary, Will’s mind went blank.

She was wearing a giant purple SPQR sweatshirt, the one that looked just like Jason’s that Nico always wore. And hadn’t Jason and Piper been dating before they set off on the Argo II? 

“Is that Jason’s sweatshirt?” Will’s mouth asked before his brain could stop it.

Piper paused and glanced down, like she’d forgotten what she was wearing. “Oh, uh, yeah. Nyssa’s got the AC blasting in the bunker, so I snagged this from Jason’s cabin on the way here.”

“Oh.” Did that mean they were still dating? Or maybe they just had a really amicable breakup? Or...Nico, Jason, and Piper were all in some sort of polyamorous relationship? Not that there was anything wrong with that, of course, but the three of them together certainly made for an odd bunch. “Sorry, did you need help?” 

She shook her head. “Nah, just came to see what was holding Nico up. He’s been helping us try to track down Leo.” 

“Really?” Will asked, glancing at Nico in surprise. “That’s...nice of you.” 

Nico shrugged. “I’m just gonna make sure he stays dead this time.” 

Will grinned. “Ah. That’s more like it.” 

“So, am I good to go?” Nico asked. “I’d like to track Leo down before Thanatos does.” 

Will rolled his eyes fondly. “Yeah, go ahead. But as a bit of medical advice, murder might not be best for your mental health.” 

Nico scrunched up his nose. “I don’t think you have to worry about that.” 

“Sure, Death Boy,” Will said, brushing off his reply. It was probably a joke anyway. Right? “Get out of here already. I’ll see you later.” 

As Nico started toward the door, Piper threw an arm around him, which Nico immediately tried to shove off, albeit unsuccessfully. Once he was sure they were gone, and once Kayla returned from her snack break, Will snuck out the back entrance.

He went to the cave under Half Blood Hill, announcing himself as he pushed the curtain aside and walked in. He found Rachel the way he usually did, one bare foot holding a paintbrush as she worked on her current project. “Hey,” she greeted, not lifting her eyes from the canvas.

“Hey,” Will replied moments before flopping down face-first onto a pile of overstuffed pillows. He was pretty sure it was the space that Rachel pretended was her bed whenever she stayed the night at camp so that Chiron wouldn’t realize that she snuck into the Apollo cabin every night to sleep on one of the spare bunks. He’d gotten close with Rachel since the end of the Titan war, seeing as he was usually the one to catch her when she collapsed after giving a prophecy. It had helped them bond. Now Rachel felt like something of a sister, except Will’s only experience with siblings were his godly siblings, who always just felt like close friends. So, anyway, Rachel was somewhere between Will’s newest vaguely-related sister and a close friend. Which meant that they had a good enough relationship that they could sit in silence without it being awkward, which was how the next few minutes passed.

Then, Will lifted his face off of a pillow and glanced to the side, spotting a familiar shade of purple. He picked it up - an oversized SPQR sweatshirt. “Whose is this?” 

“Huh?” Rachel barely glanced away for a second before turning back to her easel. “Oh. That’s Nico’s. He must’ve left it here last night.” 

Will’s head snapped up. “Nico was here? Wait, you hang out with Nico?” 

Rachel shrugged. She leaned forward and pulled the brush out from between her toes, apparently deciding that Will had become too much of a distraction for the time being. “Yeah, we go way back. We both helped Percy and Annabeth with the Labyrinth, remember? And then after that he would check in on me sometimes to, like, make sure nobody came after me. It was kinda creepy at first, you know, because he just sort of appears out of nowhere sometimes? But as soon as I started feeding him, he opened his mouth and never really shut up, so the creepiness kinda faded.” 

Will smoothed a hand across the fabric. It was soft, and big enough that it would fit him easily. And Rachel said it was Nico’s, not Jason’s - not that it could be, since he’d just seen Piper wearing Jason’s about ten minutes ago. And if Rachel and Nico were friends, then she would know-- “So Nico’s not dating Jason?” 

Rachel blinked, clearly taken aback by the question, and then laughed. “No, definitely not.”

Will’s brain was moving too fast for him to process anything. “He-- I--” He scrambled to his feet and gathered the sweatshirt in his hands. “I gotta go!” 

“Uh, bye?” Rachel called after him as Will took off out of the cave. Piper had said that she was with Nyssa at Bunker Nine, so Will took off toward the woods. He was grateful for his long legs that carried him across camp so quickly, leaping over fallen branches and thankfully not tripping up on any roots. He found himself outside Bunker Nine in no time, and it wasn’t long before his eyes landed on Nico. He sprinted up to the other boy, hunching over for half a second to catch his breath before he said, “Can I talk to you?” 

Nico nodded, his eyes wide in obvious surprise at having Will suddenly appear in front of him. (Served him right for doing the same to everyone else for the last few years.) Will led him out of the bunker and away from listening ears, and then handed over the sweatshirt.

“Oh,” Nico said, sounding almost disappointed. “Um. Thanks.” 

“Rachel told me it was yours, so I...brought it,” Will told him. “I always thought-- I mean, I assumed-- You and Jason are just so close, and I figured--” 

“I don’t like Jason,” Nico said quickly, defensively, and his cheeks began to color. “Not… Not like that, I mean. He just got this for me because he was sick of me stealing his all the time.” 

“No, right, of course,” Will replied as his heart sank. “I mean-- Oh gods, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to assume you liked guys-- I never should’ve--” 

“I do,” Nico cut in, and Will’s mouth snapped shut. “I, um. I’m...gay.” 

“Oh. Oh! Cool! I mean, I am too! Or, uh, I’m bi, but, uh. I like guys, too.”

If Will’s arms weren’t frozen at his side, he probably would’ve smacked himself for babbling like a total idiot. But maybe it was worth it to see the way Nico’s cheeks continued to grow red.

“Cool,” Nico said softly, dropping his gaze to his shoes before rapidly looking around at anything that wasn’t Will. “Would you, um. Would you maybe be interested in sitting with me at the campfire tonight?” 

Will was pretty sure his soul had left his body, but he still managed to ask, “Like, as a date?” 

Nico scuffed the toe of his shoe against the dirt. “If… If you want.” 

“Yeah!” Will said quickly, and then, “That would be, um. Cool.” 

“Cool,” Nico repeated. He started fidgeting with the sweatshirt in his hands before he suddenly held it out to Will. “You should take this. It’ll probably be cold tonight, so…” 

Will barely managed to stop himself from saying, it’s okay, I have my own. Instead, he forced his hands out to take the sweatshirt back. “Cool.” Did he know any other word in the English language besides cool? “I’ll, um. See you tonight then.” 

Nico smiled, and Will’s heart soared. “Yeah. See you tonight.” 

When Will arrived at the campfire later, happily yet nervously showing off the SPQR laurels on his chest, he made his way straight to Nico, relieved to see that the other boy had shown up in just a t-shirt. 

“Hey,” Will said, smiling brightly as he sat down in the open space beside Nico. “You know, it might get cold this far from the fire. Maybe you should borrow this.” Will held out his own neatly folded orange camp hoodie, one with a large 7 on the back and a red cross on one sleeve - a sweatshirt that was unmistakably Will’s. 

Nico smiled down at the sweatshirt, and then up at Will like this was exactly what he’d been hoping for. “Okay,” he said as he took the sweatshirt and pulled it on over his head. 

“It might be a little big on you,” Will warned, but Nico only smiled brighter when his head popped out of the neck hole. 

“That’s okay,” Nico replied. Just the very tips of his fingers stuck out the ends of the sleeves, and Will got the sudden urge to hold Nico’s hand. Maybe he would try later, when Nico didn’t have all of his focus directed at Will. “That’s how I like it.” 

thanks for reading!!

buy me a coffee

[potatoes-is-are-food]

would you be up for writing about the boys reactions if you got a bad case of the flu? if not, no worries!! <333

Ahem for plot reasons it’s gonna be sickness from dimensional travel and not the flu.

Warnings: some NSFW, brief mention of vomit, obviously illness although it’s not serious

Dabi

- He’s the most experienced after Keigo with humans, and the most experienced with sacrifices, so he’s got this.

- Dresses you in comfy, warm clothes and doesn’t let you get out of bed unless you need the bathroom.

- Stays with you the entire time and only leaves the room to get you food and water or to carry you. You’re not walking.

- He’ll let you watch TV, but he’s also a stickler for making sure you get lots of sleep, and he’ll enforce that by turning everything off and lying down with you until the boredom makes you pass out.

- Insists on cuddling since the sickness makes you shiver and he’s like a walking furnace.

- He’s worried for days, even after you’re able to walk around and insist you feel fine he’s still checking your temperature every hour and not letting you do anything.

- Once he’s satisfied that you really are better, he thinks the best way to test your strength is by having you ride him for a bit.

- “If you can handle a little physical exertion, I’ll consider you healed, little sacrifice.”

Tomura

- Panic mode.

- Doesn’t know how humans work, doesn’t know what the fuck your temperature is supposed to be, had no idea humans threw up involuntarily, and that groan doesn’t sound like your normal sounds??

- So, yeah, he’s panicking.

- Tried to call Dabi 300+ times before realizing if he hadn’t picked up by 10 he wasn’t going to.

- Tried to call Keigo and could only stomach his voicemail once before giving up.

- Awkwardly sits beside you and strokes your hair.

- You’ll have to tell him or ask him for what you need, he absolutely will not figure it out, he still forgets you eat sometimes.

- He’s convinced if he crushes you to his chest there’s no way you could get hurt and therefore you’ll be fine.

- Massive sigh of relief when you start feeling better, although he still hovers and refuses to leave the room as if you’ll keel over if you spend 5 minutes apart.

- He worries as much as Dabi, so even several days later he flat out refuses if you try to get him to do anything.

- “M’not about to wear you out again. Don’t give me that look, just lie back and I’ll give you my tongue, but it’s all you’re getting ‘till Dabs gets back.”

Keigo

- He’s not as experienced as Dabi with sacrifices specifically, but he used to interact with sick humans all the time as an angel, so he’s got an idea how to take care of you. Less knowledgeable about dimensional sickness, though.

- Kei is always a fan of being condescending and sweet, so he’ll spend a lot of time cooing at you and petting you in between his actual care.

- It’s partially because he enjoys seeing you pout but mostly he’s trying to hide how concerned he is without Dabi around to help him.

- Good about taking care of your basic needs, and since he can send feathers to do stuff he can stay with you more.

- He keeps a little stash of stuff you like from the human world, so he’ll bust out whatever he thinks you’ll want.

- If he gets really worried, he’ll curl up in bed with you and watchyou like a hawk *very* closely.

- The second you start feeling better he’s back to his usual relaxed demeanor, but he still makes sure you’re not pushing yourself and he does retain some of that tense feeling until Dabi gets back.

- Remains handsy the entire time you’re sick and has no shame about asking to “warm you up from the inside.”

- “C’mon, sweetheart, it’ll make you feel better. Ah, see? That’s nice. Hm, maybe I should take your temperature again, actually.”

All Three

- Dabi takes charge, of course. Keeps Tomura calm and Keigo’s hands from wandering so much.

- You’d think it’d be easier with all of them home, but mostly it just makes Dabi irritated because Keigo is keeping you awake and Tomura keeps fussing to keep him away from you.

- Tomura sits beside you the whole time, occasionally lying his head on your shoulder or lap while he plays games on his switch.

- Kei hogs your other side, one arm under your head while you fall in and out of sleep and he watches TV and checks your breathing occasionally.

- Dabi keeps a close eye on you and alternates between sprawling out on top of Keigo or watching Tomura play.

- When you start feeling better, they all still have their ways of getting you back into the usual routine, but Dabi makes sure they don’t overdo anything and he’ll avoid taking any new contracts until he’s completely sure you’re better.

- Tomura is always a little clingy with you, but it’s much worse the first few weeks after you’ve been sick(although he’ll deny it). He’ll also avoid working much for a while to stay home.

- Kei pretends to go back to normal quickly, but suddenly he’s taking less contracts and shorter ones for a few weeks.

- Dabi isn’t subtle or embarrassed, so he’ll just tell you he’s staying home with you for a while and he’ll even take you out if you want.

- They all clearly feel a lot better when you do, and they’ll go out of their way to be nicer to you for a while after that. Less teasing and lots of letting you choose what to do. They have to keep you around for a while, after all.

[waitimcomingtoo]

heeeey, in love with you, your writing and your blog 💖 Tbh I have read everything you have and I really in love with your writing. And I know that your request are close, but if you want could you write a Tom x reader where they have a fight and Tom has to leave a few days to promote his new movie and when he's back he sees like some of the reader's stuff are missing and thinks she left but in reality she's in another room couse she's awfully sick and doesn't want to get Tom sick too

Thank you so much anon!

Give Me a Minute to Hold My Girl

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Synopsis: Tom can’t find you after a bad fight

Masterlist

Tom was away a lot.

You knew traveling was a big part of his job, so you never did complain. That being said, it wasn’t easy having a boyfriend who was never around. All the missed birthdays, events, and art shows weighed on you after a while. You were more than proud of him, but you were growing lonely. He had a saying, something he said every time before he left you:

“Wherever I am, and wherever you are, we’re always looking at the same moon.”

And it used to assuage you. You’d go outside on nights he was away and stare at the moon, wishing he was looking at it where’ve he was. You knew it was never true though. He was rarely in the same time zone as you and was definitely not spending his precious time staring at the moon.

You couldn’t help it. You were miserable. 

On a night where Tom came home three hours later than he said he would after being away for a week. He sent a short text alerting you that he’d be home late, therefore missing the art show he promised he’d be at after missing the last three. Upon reading the text just mere moments before your show, you decided your quota was filled. You couldn’t handle the lonely nights anymore. If he didn’t start shaping up, you were gonna have to start considering looking elsewhere for love. You loved Tom, but you had to love yourself more.

“Hi, babygirl.” Tom came behind you that night and wrapped his arms around your waist as you rinsed your brushes. He smelled like he had been using a new cologne, one you didn’t recognize. You stiffened a little in his embrace as you wiped off a brush.

“I thought you were gonna be home at 2.” You said quietly.

“Plans changed. Sorry I didn’t call.” He kissed the back of your neck with strangers lips.

“Do you remember what today was?” You asked for your own amusement.

“Oh uh…” Tom scratched the back of his head as he raked his brain. “Not your birthday.”

“No.” You confirmed with half hearted humor.

“Not our anniversary.” He continued.

“No.” You shook your head.

“Um…” he trailed off until his eyes landing on your paint brushes next to you. “Your art show. I totally forgot.” He rubbed his eyes. “It was today?”

“Yeah.” You nodded, never meeting his eyes.

“I knew it. I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” Tom took your hands and looked at you apologetically. “I got pulled into a meeting about Spider-Man 3 and it just slipped my mind.”

“It’s all right. I didn’t place or anything.” You shrugged, not wanting a fight. “You can come to the next one.”

“This was the one where you paint on the spot right? Can you paint me a new one while I get changed?” Tom suggested as he brushed some hair out of your face.

“Sure. Anything specific?” You asked, warming up to him now that he was showing an interest in you again. The fire you felt for him was burning once again.

“Paint how you feel. I’ll be back soon.” Tom kissed your forehead before leaving the room.

You put a blank canvas on your easel and squirt some dark paint on your palette. As you painted, you heard Tom shouting and cheering from the other room. You decided it wasn’t worth it to get angry at him for playing a video game, after all he did have a long day. You kept the painting simple and void of color so you could get back to spending time with your boyfriend. When you finished and felt happy with your work, you called him back.

“I’m done, Tom.” You called out to him.

“Just a second. I’m in the middle of a game.” He called back. After ten minutes had gone by and he still hadn’t come into the room, you decided to add another small detail to the background of the painting. Tom walked in shortly after with a different outfit and freshly showered. You gave him a small smile.

“I can clean up and we can grab some dinner.” You said as you collected the used brushes.

“I actually gotta go soon, honey. I have meeting in Manchester tonight.” Tom told you timidly. You stopped collecting your brushes and looked at him.

“But you just got home.” You said, not bothering to hide your disappointment.

“I thought I’d come back for an hour to see you.” He said as if was no big deal.

“And then you spent that hour playing video games with Tuwaine.” You pointed out in anger. You felt the fire fizzle out.

“He’s never on, I didn’t want to miss him.” Tom said light heartedly in an attempt to cheer you up. “He’s the best at 2K.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t really he was the best at 2k.” You said sarcastically. “How stupid of me to try to pull my boyfriend away from making virtual half court shots after I haven’t seen him in a week.”

“I haven’t seen him either.” Tom reminded you, only fueling your anger.

“But you gave your only free hour to him. When am I gonna get to see you, Tom? When you’re dead?” You questioned.

“I’m here now, aren’t I?” He held out his arms.

“Until your car pulls up.” You shot a look at his phone which you knew would be buzzing any minute.

“What do you want me to say?” Tom asked. “I work. I’m a working actor. People need me.”

“I need you.” You threw a sheet over your canvas and finished collecting your brushes, not wanting to look at him.

“I don’t know what to tell you, darling. I’m sorry. I can’t be everywhere at once.” He apologized. You shook your head before turning to face him.

“You spent last week in Mexico, Berlin, and Scotland. You’ve been to LA, Germany, and Vancouver this week. And now you’re off to Manchester? Do you mean you can’t be everywhere at once, or do you mean you can’t be anywhere I am?” You accused.

“I don’t pick where I go. If I have a meeting, I go. If I have a premier, I go. If I have to film, I go. It’s part of the job.” Tom defended himself.

“Chris wasn’t at the London premier.” You said quietly. You weren’t going to bring it up, but it felt warranted.

“What?” Tom asked at the random claim.

“Chris Pratt. He wasn’t at the London premier for Onward.” You told him.

“Okay?” Tom said in confusion.

“Do you know why?” You tested him.

“No.” Tom said after a minute of thinking.

“He was home with his family. He said his son started crying as he was leaving for his flight so he stayed. It was all over the news.” You told him. “Traveling is part of his job too, and yet he knows how to be there for his family. Why can’t you do the same?”

“Harry and Sam were there.” Tom pointed out.

“I don’t care about Harry and Sam!” You raised your voice. “I care about how the only time I get to see my boyfriend is when I’m scrolling through Instagram. Girls all over the world get to see you but the girl you swore you loved is lying at home in an empty bed. You can make time for millions of strangers but you can’t make time for me? Do you know how it feels every time you don’t answer my FaceTime calls but then you go on Instagram live? Do you have any idea how unhappy I’ve been?” You asked desperately.

“I have to tend to my fans, it’s a part-“ Tom began.

“Of the job, I know.” You cut him off as you stormed out of the room.

“What do you want me to do? Quit?” He laughed bitterly as he followed you into the living room.

“Would you?” You spun around.

“What?” Tom faltered.

“Would you give it all up for me?” You repeated lowly. “If I asked, and I wouldn’t, but it I did? Would you give up the money and stardom and power for me?”

“Why are you asking me this?” Tom sighed.

“Because I think I know the answer.” You said tearfully. You and Tom stared at each other for a long time. He could see how hurt you were and prepared to make amends.

“I love you.” He said meekly.

“Don’t give me that.” You shook your head and looked up at the ceiling.

“I do.” He said firmly but you didn’t answer. “What do you want me to give you, then?”

“A reason to stay, maybe?” You shrugged sadly as tears fell down your cheeks. “I’m seeing nothing but a lifetime of loneliness ahead of me because of your beloved job.”

“We love each other. Isn’t that enough of a reason?” Tom stepped closer to you but you backed away. His face fell at your indifference.

“I always thought it would be but…” you shrugged and pulled your sweater tighter around you.

“You wouldn’t leave.” Tom said starkly.

“I would if I had nothing to come back to.” You looked him in the eye. His eyes were red now too.

“I’m here. I’m what you have to come back to.” His voice wavered as he got to the point of tears.

“Tom, when are you ever here?” You laughed at the absurdity of his statement. “When have I ever had you to come back to you?”

“You think I like the traveling anymore than you do? I hate leaving you. I miss you like crazy when I’m away. It kills me to be apart.” He defended himself as he raised his voice.

“Oh, is that why you don’t answer my texts? Because being away from me killed you?” You asked sarcastically. “That makes total sense now. Although, I never really got the feeling you “missed me like crazy” when you were dodging my calls.”

“I’m sorry about that.” Tom apologized, knowing this wasn’t an argument he was going to win. “I’ll start coming home more, I promise.”

“Like you promised you’d come to my show?” You shot back, not yet ready to let him off easy.

“I just forgot! Am I not allowed to forget things?” Tom shouted.

“You have ten thousand assistants who revolve around you like you’re the sun and not one of them was there to remind you about my show?” You yelled. Tom quoted down when he realized you were right.

“Darling, I cannot deal with this right now.” He rubbed his face with his hands. “Can we please talk about this tomorr-” he cut himself off with a sigh.

“What?” You asked bitterly.

“I won’t be here tomorrow. I have press in New York. I have a flight out of Manchester after the meeting tonight.” He told you with dad eyes. “I’m sorry, I completely forgot to tell you.”

“How convenient.” Your voice cracked. It was at the point where you were plenty used to the goodbyes, but this one felt final.

“I was gonna tell you, I swear. It just slipped my mind.” Tom apologized.

“That’s been happening a lot, hasn’t it?” You snapped.

“You know this is part of the job.” He said weakly, hating himself for having to give you such a lame excuse.

“I do know that.” You nodded. “What I didn’t know is that I was gonna live my life freezing to death in the shadow of your career!” You shouted.

“Then get a new life!” He shouted back, eyes immediately displaying regret. You tilted your head as tears streamed down your face.

“Do you mean that?” You asked quietly.

“Maybe I do.” Tom shrugged as he stared you coldly in the eye. His phone buzzed and he glanced down at it. “I have to go.”

“Good. Go.” You snapped. He went to the door but stopped and looked at you.

“You’re gonna be here when I get back, right?” He asked timidly.

“Would you even notice if I wasn’t?” You responded as you went to retreat into the bedroom.

“Darling, wait-“ Tom began to follow you but you stopped in your tracks.

“I don’t have anything left here to wait for.” You told him and you watched his heart break.

Tom opened his mouth to speak but his phone buzzed again. He looked at it and sighed as you wiped a tear.

“Go. Your car is waiting.” You said.

“I can’t leave you like this.” He mumbled as he typed something into his phone.

“Just leave. You know how.” You said bitterly. Tom looked up at you at your words. He was in a bad way. His nose was running and his eyes were bloodshot.

“I can cancel on the press. I can stay home-“ he said desperately.

“This is not a home! This is a prison!” You yelled. “I am chained to this one man cult we call a relationship. Please, just go! You have people waiting on you, people you clearly find more important than me. You need to leave, because I will never kick you out. Go on your press tour. Go to New York. Go do your precious “job” and meet your fans. Go stare at the fucking moon. I don’t care. Just leave.” You yelled until your voice was ragged.

“You’ll never find someone like me.” Tom warned, saying anything he could to get you to stay.

“I hope to God that’s true!” You screamed.

Tom took a step towards you, but his phone buzzed again. He wiped a tear off his cheek and nodded.

“I’ll be back in a week.” He swallowed.

“Good for you.” You said dismissively as you walked into the bedroom and slammed the door. He stared at the door for a long time, about to knock when he got yet another text telling him his car was there. He swallowed thickly, pressed a kiss to the outside of the door, and left without another word.

“I’m home.” Tom called into his home a week later.

He immediately felt the chill of your fight hitting him. When he didn’t hear a response from you, he shivered in his jacket, suddenly feeling like he was wearing somebody else’s clothes. He set his bag down timidly in the ground and looked around. The first thing he noticed was the lack of dishes in the sink. You weren’t one for cleaning up after yourself and Tom had grown accustomed to coming home to a pile of dirty dishes in the sink. You’d usually wash and dry them together before settling down on the couch to watch a movie. Tom felt fear prickle the back of his neck at the empty sink. There was no way you’d actually left, Tom told himself. You wouldn’t just up and go without a note or a call or a text. Not that Tom was very good at answering your calls and texts. Tom took another step into the house and glanced around the living room. Your favorite blanket was missing and the room looked like it hadn’t been touched since Tom left a week ago. Your pile of movies was no longer next to the TV and Tom began to feel sick.

“Y/n? I’m home.” He called out again. His voice bounced off the walls but didn’t get a reply. His palms began to sweat as he walked into the kitchen and opened the cabinet. All of your coffee mugs were gone. There was an empty space in the middle of the cabinet where they used to be.

“Princess? Are you here?” Tom called out, desperately this time. When he was met with silence, he rushed into the bathroom. Tom washed his face with cold water and noticed your toothbrush was missing from the holder. He started at the vacant spot for a long tome before rushing into your shared bedroom. Upon entrance, he noticed your pillow missing. The bed looked like it hadn’t been slept in all week, and Tom feared it hadn’t. He flung open your closet doors and noticed a large gap in your clothing. All your favorite T-shirts were gone. After rummaging through the drawers, Tom found that your leggings, bras, underwear and socks were all missing too. Tom sat on the bed and out a hand over his mouth to muffle his sobs.

You’d done it. You’d left him.

While he spent the week with friends and fans, you spent the week packing up your life. Tom snapped his head up when he heard the doorbell ring.

“Babygirl?” He asked as he rushed to the front door. He swung it open, only to find his next door neighbor.

“Oh, hey Tom. Glad to see you’re back.” His elderly neighbor smiled at him.

“Hi Shane.” Tom said weakly.

“I wanted to see how Y/n was doing. She left kinda late Thursday’s night and I haven’t seen her since. Been about a week I think.” Shane informed Tom. He perked up at the mention of you.

“You saw her leaving?” Tom asked. “When was this again?”

“Thursday. Sped off in such a hurry, you’d think she was in a race.“ Shane laughed. Tom looked past Shane and noticed your car wasn’t in the driveway.

“Did she say where she was going?” Tom inquired.

“Oh, no. My wife and I only saw her leave. We were visiting our son all weekend and got worried when we got back and saw her car was still missing. I rang the doorbell a few times this week but there was never an answer.” Shane said and Tom felt like crying all over again. “When I saw that you had come back if figured I’d ask you. Is she okay?”

“I’m sorry Shane, I don’t know.” Tom answered honestly.

“She’s not home?” Shane asked.

“Uh, no.” Tom looked back in the house and then back at Shane. “Shes not home.”

“Do you think it’s serious? Has she ever done this before?” Shane wondered.

“No. Never.” Tom shook his head.

“Have you tried calling her? You two are always so cute, I thought for sure you’d know where she was.” Shane said worriedly. Tom bit his tongue to keep from crying.

“We had a fight before I left last week.” He admitted, feeling like he needed to tell anyone who would listen.

“Oh, did you?” Shane said sympathetically.

“A really bad one.” Tom continued as his voice weighed heavy with guilt.

“That’s okay. Every couple fights. My wife and I have been fighting for 52 years.” Shane tried to cheer him up.

“Shane,” Tom sniffled as he gathered his thoughts, “I don’t think Y/n is coming home anytime soon.”

“No?” Shane asked sadly.

“I think she might’ve left.” Tom said with a shaking voice. “Left me.”

“Oh, Thomas.” Shane nodded in understanding. “I’m very sorry to hear that.”

“I’m so sorry, will you excuse me?” Tom closed the door quickly before his neighbor could see his tears. He leaned against the door and slid down it as tears poured from his eyes. He sobbed into his hands for a moment until he noticed something. Your easel was standing in the middle of the living room with a sheet covering it. Tom got to his feet and carefully approached the easel. He soon reached it and pulled the sheet off. The canvas was a mirage of gray and white with a portrait of a woman crying. She was holding half of her own broken heart and cradling it to her chest. In the background, a faint silhouette of a man walking away with the other half of her broken heart trailing on a string behind him.

Toms words echoed in his mind from that night: “Paint how you feel.”

That’s how you felt. Heartbroken, abandoned, and tethered, all because of Tom. Tom ran his fingertips over the painting as if were a piece of you. He tilted his head and smiled at it fondly, always blown away at how talented you were, even when painting your lament.

He noticed another canvas leaning against the back wall, also covered in a sheet. He walked briskly to it and ripped the sheet off.

Underneath the off white sheet was a portrait of Tom himself sitting on the world. He had a crown on his head and a bright smile on his face. There were tiny, detailed fans and billboards with his name on either side of him. He was in a suit and had his hand clamped firmly around a the sun. You had painted with bright colors, colors of the sunset and the sky. Your words from the fight came back to him:

“You have ten thousand assistants who revolve around you like you’re the sun and not one of them was there to remind you about my show?”

On the other side of the globe sat a girl. Tom turned the portrait around and saw you. You were sitting alone, literally on the other aide of the world. Tom felt his heart break when he noticed you were staring off mournfully at the moon. On the top corner of the painting was a blue “first prize” ribbon. Tom distinctly remembered you telling him you didn’t place, despite you winning the entire competition.

That was enough for Tom. The tingling sensation started in his nose and he found himself able to see less and less of your painting as tears well up in his eyes. Body shaking sobs ripped through him as it finally sunk in that you had left him. He cried into his hands until he heard something coming from the guest bedroom.

A cough.

Tom almost thought he imagined it until he heard it again. Someone was coughing in the house. Tom scrambled to his feet and pressed an ear against the door. He heard silence for a while, then a sniffle. His heart pounded in his ears as he twisted the doorknob.

Tom opened the door slowly and heard a clanking from the floor. He looked down and saw a pile of your favorite coffee mugs, a few plates, and some bowls on the ground. He pushed them aside and fully stepped into the room. Sitting in the guest bed was a very pink-nosed and red-eyed you. You were lazily scrolling through your phone as you dabbed at your nose with a tissue. There was a bottle of bills and a bottle of cough medicine on the nightstand, as well as a sea of mugs. There was a garbage can next tot he bed with a mountain of tissues coming out as well as surrounding it. Tom felt like he was seeing a ghost and suddenly felt like a stranger in his own home. He looked around the room and saw all your missing clothes strewn around. You were wrapped in your favorite blanket and your pile of movies was next to a tub of ice cream by the TV. Tom blinked a few times in shock.

“Oh, you’re home.” You spoke and Tom snapped out of his daze. You didn’t sound angry, just congested.

“Y/n?” Tom whispered as if he spoke to loudly, you might disappear.

“Hi, Tommy.” You said sleepily as you rubbed your eyes. “Did you just get home?”

Tom watched your every movement as you scratched your head and reached for the cup of water next to the bed. He quickly got it before you did and handed it to you, taking a careful seat next to you on the bed. You gave him a grateful smile before downing the glass. You licked your dry lips a few times and sighed.

“Yeah. I just got in.” He said, never taking his eyes off you.

“I didn’t hear it. I’m on this medication that completely knocks me out. Oh, I’m sick, if you haven’t noticed.” You laughed sleepily. “I got the flu from one of my friends.”

“You’re sick? That’s why you’re in here?” Tom asked as hope burbled in his chest.

“I didn’t want to contaminate all your stuff.” You told him. “Can’t have you getting sick before Uncharted starts filming.” His heart warmed at the thought of you looking out for him even after the fight you had.

“Thank you, princess. I appreciate you looking out for me.” He told you sincerely.

“Uh oh.” You looked at him with a half smile. “You only call me “princess” when you’re really upset. What’s going on?”

Toms lip began to tremble at your words and you looked worried.

“Your toothbrush isn’t in the bathroom.” Was all he could find the strength to say.

“Yeah, because it was disgusting. I had to throw it out this morning.” You assured him.

“All your stuff is missing. Your clothes, movies, mugs.” Tom continued.

“Look around you.” You laughed again, gesturing to all your previously “missing” stuff.

“Shane is worried about you. He said you left Thursday and never came back.” Tom told you.

“Aw, is he? I drove to the hospital Thursday night because my fever was so high and the doctor made me stay overnight. I took an Uber back on Friday because I got sick in my car. Its at the shop getting cleaned until tomorrow. Would you tell him I’m okay?” You asked.

“Of course.” Tom nodded, feeling himself relax a little.

“Thank you.” You said. The room fell into an awkward silence. Tom toyed with what he needed to say in his head.

“I saw your paintings.” Tom spoke up.

“Oh.” You said causally, knowing the content of the paintings.

“You didn’t tell me you got first place.” He said softly.

“I didn’t want you to feel bad for missing it.” You admitted.

“Princess” ,Tom laughed sadly, “I feel terrible. I feel terrible about every thing. Every word I said to you, I regret it. I thought about you and our fight the entire time I was gone. I couldn’t eat or sleep. I was miserable without you. And when I came home today and all your stuff was gone…” Tom trailed off as he got emotional again. You pulled him to you chest and let him cry it out. “I thought you left. I thought you left me.”

“I would never leave you.” You promised.

“But our fight.” He cried.

“All couples fight. The ill-timing and stress didn’t help. But I’m not someone who just walks away. Especially not from something like this.” You assured him as you stroked his hair.

“I hurt you. I missed your show, I didn’t talk to you when I was home.” Tom listed off his mistakes. “I abandoned you.”

“It’s the job.” You laughed sadly.

“No. I’m not gonna let that be an excuse anymore.” Tom pulled his head off your chest and you wiped his eyes. “You deserve better. So, so much better. I’m sorry it took you almost leaving for me to realize how much I need you to stay.”

“I’m sorry about the fight.” You told him weakly. “I said some things I didn’t mean.”

“What didn’t you mean?” Tom asked as he gathered your hands in his and kissed them.

“I know I said there wasn’t nothing here for me to wait for, but there is. Of course you’re worth waiting for. You’re away a lot, and it sucks, but nothing compares to when you’re here. A few days with you is better than a lifetime with somebody else, I know it. It’s just hard to remember the good times when I’m sleeping alone every night.” You finally told him your feelings in a much calmer manner.

“Princess, I’m so sorry. This ends today. If someone needs a meeting with me, they can come to Kingston. I’m not gonna fly all over the globe to talk about movies for an a hour anymore when I could be at home with my beautiful girlfriend. You are so much more important than any job.” Tom promised you. “I didn’t answer you that night, and I honestly didn’t even know the answer, but now I do. I’d give it all up in a heartbeat for you, love. All the money and fame is nothing to me if I don’t have you.”

“Do you really mean that?” You asked him.

“I do. And I’m gonna prove it.” He swore. “I want you to come with me when I shoot Uncharted. And I want you there for the rest of my press tour. You can bring your easel and your brushes and paint all over the world.”

“Really?” You asked happily.

“Yes. People are gonna stop coming to see me and start coming to see you because you’re gonna be the most famous painter in the world.” Tom painted you a picture. “You have more talent than people could even dream of achieving. The world needs to see your work.”

“I’d love to come with you.” You told him with a smile.

“Then do it. We don’t ever have to be apart again. I can’t sleep if it’s not next to you anyway. We won’t have to look at the same moon anymore. I can just roll over and see you instead.” Tom cupped your face. “We’re gonna go to Berlin and Italy and Mexico, all the places you’ve wanted to see. You’re gonna see the prettiest sights and eat the greatest food and live the most wonderful life by my side. And we can go anywhere else you want to go too. Fuck it, baby, we’re going to the moon. Or mars. Wherever. It doesn’t matter as long as we’re together. That’s all I need.”

“That’s all I ever wanted to hear.” You told him as a happy tear rolled down your cheek. “I don’t want someone like you. I just want you.”

“I just want you, too.” He grinned as happy tears welled in his eyes.

“I’m sorry, baby.” You apologized for the fight.

“I’m sorry too.” Tom nodded tearfully as he reached forward to kiss you.

“I’m sick.” You reminded him as you pulled away slightly to dodge his kiss.

“I don’t care.” Tom shook his head as he pressed his lips to yours before pulling you into a tight embrace. “I’m never leaving you again. Just give me a minute to hold my girl.”

Tag List 🏷

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[whiskery-louis]

Game Night

** Hi everyone here is my first imagine in a while and it is pretty long and there will be a part 2!

Synopsis: Luke and you broke up 6 months ago. Ashton invites you over for game night.

Luke Hemmings x reader

Warnings: None

Please enjoy and let me know what you think!!

*not my photo*

“Come on Y/N you have to come see us! We’re traveling across the country just to see you!” Ashton whined through the phone.

“Well I didn’t ask you too Ash. I can’t risk seeing him-”

“He’s not coming, he’s staying here with her. Hell I don’t even think he knows we left.”

You sighed, “Who exactly is ‘we’?”

“Me and Mikey,” you could hear the smile in his voice. You had always been the closest to him and Michael. Not that you and Calum weren’t close, it was just different.

“What about Cal?” you asked.

“He’s staying back so you know who doesn’t get suspicious about the three of us all leaving for a weekend.”

“I don’t know Ash,” you sighed again. “I have work and stuff. Plus I was supposed to see the twins this weekend, and I wanted to go to Target…” you trailed off as you rattled on with excuses.

“Oh please, you know you miss us just as much as we miss you. It’s been six months Y/N, just come hangout for the night. I promise it’s not gonna be anything big. Just you, me, Mike and Crystal. We’ll just do pizza and play some games. Please Y/N, we’re already at the airport and if you don’t come willingly we got your new address from Lacey.”

You mentally cursed your best friend, she knew you specifically didn’t give any of them your new address for this very reason. You were out of excuses and you could hear Ashton’s smirk through the phone. He had you cornered and he knew it.

“Fine. Text me your Airbnb info and I’ll come over tomorrow when I’m done work. But you better be getting the good pizza, and there better be drinks.”

“Yes she’s in!” you heard Mikey yell in the background. You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the smile that spread over your face.

“Bye boys, safe flight.”

You hung up the phone and put your head in your hands. While part of you was very excited to see Ashton and Michael again there was still a part of you that was worried. There was too much history between you and him so of course they all knew about it. They tried not to take sides during the break up but everyone knew he had Calum and you had the other two. It was part of the reason that you had moved back home instead of trying to find a place to stay in L.A.. You could feel the tension that was building between the four of them and the last thing you wanted to do was ruin their friendships or their band. It was all way more important than you. 

You hadn’t really spoken to any of them much other than the casual ‘how are you’ texts here and there. But from him it had been radio silence for six months. Now here you were, five minute after speaking with Ashton and you were already more stressed than you’d be in week. What did you get yourself into?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was nearing 6:15 and you couldn’t bring yourself to pull up to the house, you had been circling the block for almost 20 minutes and every time you were about to stop you told yourself one more lap. You weren’t sure what was wrong with you, you knew it was only Ash, Mike and Crystal and yet just the thought of being around his friends was enough to make you sick. 

“Fuck it,” you muttered, finally pulling into the drive. You grabbed your bag, and although you hated to admit it, you were excited to see your old friends.

You walked up to the door and hesitantly knocked on it. As soon as your knuckles hit the wood you could hear yelling and footsteps running up to the door.

“Y/N!!!” Ashton yelled engulfing you in a massive hug.

“Can’t breathe…”

“Oi sorry, I’ve just missed you lots.” 

“I missed you too.” you grinned at him, wondering what you had been worried about all day. It felt like no time had passed.

“Well let her in the door man,” Michael spoke up from behind.

You smiled as you entered the house and walked over to Mikey hugging him hard.

“It’s been too long,” he muttered as he let you back.

“Well yeah, that kinda happens when there’s a global pandemic and I move across the county.”

You could tell Michael was going to tell you off for moving but Crystal came in the room then and thankfully saved you from talking about him.

She wrapped her arms around you giving you a quick hug, “It’s so good to see you, I’m glad you made it!”

“Me too, though if I didn’t come willingly I knew you’d show up on my doorstep.”

“You got that right,” she laughed, “It took all my energy to keep them in the house all day.”

“Well I appreciate it, I had a lot of work to get through today figuring I’ll still be hungover on Monday from this weekend.”

It was fitting that as soon as I mentioned being hungover we walked into the kitchen to a full stocked bar.

“Man I forgot you guys really go all out for game nights,” you couldn’t help but laugh at some of the fond memories.

“Okay so what game are we playing first?” Ashton asked as he handed you a drink.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two hours later and you really didn’t understand why you were so nervous to come. It was one of the best feelings catching up with your old friends and thankfully they didn’t bring him up once. You were in the middle of an intense game of charades, Crystal and you were kicking the boys asses.

“Alright do you guys want to give up yet? You’re never going to beat us so why not save yourselves the embarrassment.”

They both looked annoyed at how the game was progressing, “Well maybe if Mike could draw anything other than stick figures we would’ve stood a chance.” Ashton grumbled.

“And now you see why I always make sure someone else gets stuck with him,” Crystal laughed as she dodged the pen Michael threw at her.

You all laughed as you cleaned up and you went over to the stack of games, contemplating what you wanted to play next. You guys had made your way through a few different games and a few rounds of drinks and honestly you were exhausted. Since moving back home you didn’t hang out with many people other than Lacey and you forgot how much energy it took to be around people. You were tired but it was the best kind of tired. 

“Can we just watch a movie now? I’m tired of losing,” MIchael whined from the couch.

“That’s exactly what a sore loser would say,” you shot back.

Michael just smiled and shrugged his shoulders looking at you, “At least I know it, but I so call picking the movie.” He picked up the remote and started searching through Netflix looking for a good comedy that everyone would watch.

“Anyone up for another round?” Ashton asked and you nodded following him into the kitchen to help. It was silent as he rummaged through the alcohol looking for something new to drink. You hopped up on the counter waiting to see what he would make.

“So how have you really been?” he asked, breaking the silence.

You looked up at him, startly by his question and you could see him looking at you intently and knew exactly what he was talking about, or more so who he was talking about.

You chewed on your bottom lip as you contemplated what to tell him. “I’ve been fine.” you answered shortly.

He scoffed at your answer, “Come on Y/N, I know you better than that and as relaxed as you seem, there is still a part of you that is on edge. You ghosted us all when you left and it was like we lost a member of our family. So tell me the truth, how are you really?”

His answer startled you, and you blinked to keep the tears at bay. “Ash I really don’t wanna ruin the night and talk about him. Can we just table it for now and go back in there with Mike and Crystal. I really don't wanna bring the mood down.” You stared back at him and there must’ve been something in your eyes because he dropped it. He handed you a drink and the two of you went back into the other room. 

“Hey what were you two talking about?” Crystal asked as you sat next to her on the couch, a knowing look in her eye.

You elbowed her subtly, “Debating if Mikey was gonna pick a shitty movie or not,” you laughed.

“Don’t hate until you see it, it’s a good one you all like.” He pointed to the TV and you saw Shrek was on. “Also you could say thank you I ordered a pizza and it should be here in about 30 minutes.”

“Didn’t you just eat a plate of buffalo chicken dip and mac’n’cheese?”

He shrugged, “If it’s a problem Y/N then you can’t have any.” He stuck his tongue out at you.

You held your hands up in defense “No, no. Just asking, I’m for sure eating that pizza.”

“That’s what I thought,” Michael replied smugly.

You just rolled your eyes at him and sat back to begin the movie. Not even 10 minutes later and there was a knock on the door.

“Y/N since you were so judgy you can go answer the door.”

“Fine, fine. Though you suck at telling time Mikey, this was way less than 30 minutes.”

You got up from the couch and made your way to the door excited that the pizza was here much earlier than anticipated. There was another knock on the door as you were opening it. You froze when you saw who was there. 

Luke.

He must not have been expecting you either because he had a dumbfounded look on his face, and his fist was frozen in mid knock.

“Y/N?” he breathed, his eyes boring into yours.

It was silent and you both just stood there and stared at each other. It had been six months since you had seen him and although there were some noticeable changes he was still the same Luke who broke your heart all those months ago. His arms were larger and his shoulders slightly broader. His hair was longer, his roots growing out which somehow suited him more. He had shaved his quarantine beard but the stubble was growing back. His eyes were the same blue that you fell in love with, but they were missing the usual mischievous glint.

“Luke why are you just-” Calum was caught off walking up behind Luke, his face lighting up when he saw you. “Y/N?! What are you doing here? It’s so good to see you!” He squeezed past Luke and pulled you into a tight embrace.

You had no words as you hugged Cal back, you were still in shock at them being here and you couldn’t take your eyes off Luke,

“What the hell is taking so long?” Ashton came around the corner and froze when he saw the new additions to the party. “Oh you guys are early…” he trailed off.

At his statement you felt the rage building in your veins, you pushed Calum off of you turning to Ashton the anger seeping out of you. “I’m sorry what? They’re what Ashton?”

He looked sheepishly at you, “Surprise?” he shrugged his shoulders, with a slight smile on his face.

You couldn’t believe this. It was all a setup. The whole night was a trick for you to see him again when Ashton knew more than anything that it was the last thing you wanted. You were at a loss for words, as much as you wanted to yell, you didn’t have the energy anymore.

“Look we can explain…”

You held your hand up cutting him off, “Don’t Ashton, just don’t. I don’t want to hear it. I’m leaving.”

You stormed into the other room, to get you things. MIchael was trying to look busy but the guilt was written all over his face. Crystal was sitting next to him with her arms crossed glaring at her fiance, she looked up when you walked in.

“I am so sorry Y/N, I had no idea or I would’ve never let them pull this stunt.”

You gave her a weak smile, “I’m just going to get my things and go.”

Michael turned and looked like he was going to say something, but one look from Crystal silenced him.

“Thanks for the fun while it lasted, but please don’t reach out again,” you heard footsteps behind you and knew the others had followed you into the room. “I thought maybe I could be friends with some of you,” you pointedly looked at Luke, “But if this is the shit you are going to pull them I am out. I’m sorry but I cannot go through this again. I just can’t.”

With that you grabbed your bag and all but ran out of the house. As you sat in your car you were thankful that you didn’t have too much to drink and were able to drive yourself home. The thirty minute drive seemed to take forever. All you wanted was your bed and to be distracted by Netflix. After what felt like an eternity you pulled into your driveway and walked into your house. You threw your bag on the table and couldn't believe the night you had. You knew Ashton and Michael had wanted you to talk to Luke when you first broke up, but that was six months ago. You never thought that they would pull this shit tonight. It was almost more painful this time as you realized you had to cut all of them out of your life and not just Luke. 

You hadn’t expected to see him tonight and it really messed you up. You had spent the last six month erasing him from your life, as much as you could. You put everything he gave you into a box that was hidden in your basement. You tried to throw it away but it felt wrong somehow. He was too big a part of your life to completely get rid of. Lacey once asked you why you didn’t get rid of it all and you knew she thought it meant you still loved him but that wasn’t it. You just couldn’t bear to part with everything that had once brought you so much happiness. You hadn’t opened the box since you moved back home, as you went downstairs to bring it to the kitchen, you knew it was going to hurt more after seeing him tonight, but you couldn’t stop yourself.

You spent over an hour looking through all the memories the two of you had made during your time together and you were a mess sitting on the floor with tears rolling down your face. Maybe it was from the exhaustion that raked your body or the alcohol that was still in your system but you left the contents of the box sprawled over the island and slipped on his old Nirvana shirt before going to your bed and finally falling asleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next thing you knew you were being jolted awake by a banging on your door. You looked at the clock and groaned when you saw it was only 8:00am. Who the hell would be here so early. Hoping it was just a package you rolled back over and tried to fall back asleep, when the person knocked again.

You signed as you rolled out of bed and trudged downstairs in nothing but the old shirt you fell asleep in. Rubbing your eyes as they adjusted to the brightness, you opened the door and had to squint to see who was there.

“Y/N, you uh forgot your phone and I wanted to make sure it got back to you safely.”

You hated that your heart skipped a beat as your name rolled off his lips, your eyes focused on him and the events of last night came back to you instantly.

“Luke.”

[animalkingdom-an0nymous]

False God- Sean Wallace

Disclaimer: No gifs or photos are mine unless stated otherwise.

Warning: A violent, smutty NSFW Sean Wallace fic. What if that last day ended differently? What if Sean made it out with his wounds? And what if there was someone from his childhood who haunted him just as much as he haunted her?

Subject: Sean X Y/N

Growing up, Sean Wallace and I were one in the same. We liked the same jokes, ate our peanut butter and jelly sandwiches cut the same way- in triangles- and our only real difference was that I was an American. Our fathers, both legendary crime bosses in their own right, were great business partners and made each other filthy rich. We were dangerously similar.

Until we weren’t.

I’d been in America when Finn Wallace was murdered, and I’d stayed in America during the aftermath. My father had cared deeply for Finn, but the world we lived in was fucking brutal, cold, and my dad would never risk my well being by allowing me to go to the UK to be with Sean.

Hearing about all of it had been a nightmare, though. Hearing about murders and the carnage, communities and families wiped out when Sean locked the city down. My heart ached for the boy I once knew and feared for the man that was, and then, just as quickly as it all blew up, the flames went out. All was quiet.

Sean Wallace was dead.

Or so the world thought. My father, who had an in with Billy and Jac, knew the truth. The Wallace family had connections within the police force- cliché, right?- and when a few of their own found him lying in a pool of his own blood, bleeding out from his fucking face, they quickly pronounced him dead at the scene. I didn’t know the ins and outs, didn’t care to, because the life I lived now was so far from the life I was forced to live as a child. All I knew was they got him out of there and Sean Wallace, as London knew him, was dead.

I needed him to stay that way.

It had been nearly a year since then, nearly a year since I last had the nerve to ask my dad about him. I think he knew how I felt, knew I had gone to great lengths to distance myself from him and my mother and the hellish, brutal life they created. But that didn’t mean my dad didn’t love me. I knew he did in his own, twisted way, and I knew he caught on to the hurt I felt whenever Sean’s name was mentioned.

So he stopped mentioning it.

Billy and Jac were stateside and living under different names, that much I knew. I had yet to see them, but I knew they were close enough to drive to because my mother had made sure to mention in her last email that their “home was beautiful and they think it was quite rude of you not to come around and visit, Y/N.”

It was bullshit. Billy and Jac didn’t feel any type of way about me, we were never close. That was reserved specifically for Sean and me. And look how well that turned out.

I was haunted by the ghost of a man I didn’t even know anymore.

He was labeled as a terrorist and maybe that’s what hurt more than anything. I could never scream from the rooftops how much I fucking loved him because that’s crazy. Because who could love a terrorist? Who could love a man that had murdered, cheated, stolen to get his way? And if I did love him, what kind of woman did that make me?

It was a thought that had been in my mind on replay all day long, the musings drifting into the night as I drove towards my childhood home. I had made the agreement with my parents- namely my father- that once a month I would return home for dinner. It was nearly a two hour drive but one that I committed to because if I didn’t I knew they would show up at my apartment. And what twenty-something year old woman wants her parents showing up at her apartment unannounced?

The gravel ground under my tires as I pulled my all black BMW into the driveway. It was already dark and I knew my mother would have something to say about me showing up late, but at least I showed up. Sure, I was still wearing the navy blue pantsuit I’d worn at work all day and I usually changed whenever I had dinner with them, but my mind was occupied tonight. By thoughts of Sean. By thoughts of Sean getting his face blown off. Did it hurt? Did he remember? Would I ever know?

My father met me at the door. Six foot three and wide like a linebacker, the man was not to be messed with. He was no nonsense and the only people he smiled at were me and the people he was going to shoot right before he shot them. You can do what you want with that information.

“My little angel,” he said and reached for me, taking both my hands in his and bringing them to his lips. It was a simple gesture but one he did every single time. It was the one constant my dad ever provided me. “How was the drive up?”

“Traffic wasn’t too bad tonight, but I ended up getting out a bit later than I thought I would.”

He swung an arm around me as we made our way through the marble foyer, my heels clacking against the floor. “My art gallery owner. Your mother and I are so proud of you.”

I raised my eyebrows. He was feeding me bullshit, both he and my mom wanted me in the family business more than anything, but from the time I could voice my opinion I let them know. No. I would be taking no part in the family business.

Not that I didn’t know my shit. I knew my way around a gun shop and had a better shot than half the men my dad hired to protect us. I hit harder than my first two boyfriends and let everyone know that my last name was still my last name and not to fuck with me. I knew I was untouchable.

That didn’t mean I was embracing the lifestyle.

“Yeah, business is going great, I even hired someone part-time to help out.”

“Background check?”

I rolled my eyes and laughed. “Of course.”

“Family ties?”

“Her name is Mindy and she’s from a farm in rural Kansas.”

He paused and raised his eyebrows, one of the rare times my father ever looked shocked. “She doesn’t even know what our last name holds, does she?”

I shook my head. “Not a clue.”

He laughed his hearty, deep chuckle and stopped us at the bar cart outside of the dining room. As always, he grabbed two tumblers and threw a handful of ice in each before adding to fingers of whiskey. Our favorite. One of our few commonalities. “Proud of you, kid.”

“Thanks, dad.”

I was about to ask him how his week was when my mother’s voice drifted in from the balcony. She liked to drink her wine out there at night, before dinner. Just one glass, but it was a ritual she followed religiously. Her voice was somewhat raspy, a little cold, and I could hear her laughter as though it was wrapping around me like a vine.

But that was the thing; my mother drank her wine outside alone. That was her time. So who was she laughing at?

I glanced over my shoulder at my father to find him looking as though he was at a loss for words. It was so rare that he was speechless, a man of his stature always held a level of composure that was sometimes shocking. But not this time.

“Dad, wha-“

“You’re going to want to finish that drink, angel.”

My blood ran cold at his words. His tone was low, suddenly serious. The lighthearted moment from before was gone, something dark and heavy in its place.

I should have listened to him and finished the drink because as soon as I turned around I was met with the coldest, most pristine set of blue eyes I’d ever seen. Eyes that I once swore I would drown in someday.

Sean Wallace was standing eight feet in front of me. It was the first time we had seen each other in years, the first time I’d seen him since he was… dead.

His face was… fucked. Marred by the bullet that ripped through his left cheek on that fateful day. The skin was raised, almost burn-like, and left a medium sized indent in what would otherwise be a perfectly symmetrical face. His left eyelid held a little lower and it looked like he tried to cover up the other, minor scars with the facial hair that littered his jaw and around his mouth.

But even with the new, broken face, Sean Wallace was still the most breathtaking man in the room. His suit was impeccable and fit him like a glove, the stormy gray matching the storm that seemed to be raging in his eyes. His tie was a navy that matched my own suit and it felt like the universe was pointing at me and laughing. It felt like that bitch was having the time of her life watching me suffer.

“I…” I started, unsure of how to finish.

“I didn’t mean to startle you. I know this” he held a hand up to his face “is a lot to take in.”

I already shook my head, my stomach turning at the thought of him thinking he was ugly. “No! No, I… I, I’m, I wasn’t-“

“Best private schools in the state and she still has that damn stutter.” My mother’s cutting voice ceased my own and I bit at the inside of my cheek. She came around the corner in all her glory, designer dress, perfect manicure and not a hair out of place.

She made me fucking sick.

“It’s nice to see you.” I finally managed to get the words out, although I didn’t know if I was talking to Sean or my mom.

“Jesus, Y/N, you couldn’t even change first?”

“I think she looks great.” Sean’s voice caught everyone off guard and even my mom turned to look at him. “Beautiful, really. You always looked great in a suit.”

I knew he was referring to my high school graduation. Sean was two years older and had flown in to see me graduate. My mom, ever the lady, was determined to force me into a nightmare of a ball gown while I wanted a simple, chic suit. Sean had been there for the entire screaming match, laughing at my mother as she tripped over the dress she had been hellbent on making me wear.

I couldn’t help the small smile that tugged my lips and nodded at him. “Thank you.”

He nodded in return and said nothing else.

“Let’s eat, shall we?” I felt my dad’s hand on my back as he ushered me into the dining room. My feet felt like stone blocks were attached to them as I walked, feeling Sean directly behind me with his eyes burning holes into my suit jacket.

We all sat in silence with the ghost of my past sitting directly across from me. Sean made no secret that he was staring at me and it reminded me of the ignorant young boy I once knew. Sean knew he was handsome, powerful, and could easily get his way. He held himself with the confidence of a man who had everything and it seemed a gunshot to the face didn’t change that.

“You’ve managed to stay under the radar.” I noted as one of the maids poured red wine into my glass.

“Y/N!” my mother scolded.

I raised my eyebrows and didn’t glance in her direction, my eyes holding Sean’s. “What? Are we supposed to sit here and pretend everything is normal? You want me to ask him about the weather?”

“Y/N…” my father’s tone held a warning in it.

“No, she’s right.” Sean spoke up as I took a hearty gulp of wine. “Facial reconstruction had me laid up for a bit. Reconstructing an entire cheekbone can be tricky. And expensive.”

I nodded. “Especially when the entire cheekbone belongs to a dead man.”

The room fell quiet with even the staff scurrying to disappear. My mother was glaring at me and I was sure my father was too, but I didn’t care. I’d spent my entire childhood and teen years caring about and loving Sean only for him to cut me off when he became Finn’s minion and then fake his own fucking death a few years after. He got so caught up in the Wallace life, in the life I thought we both hated, that he forgot about me. And I was angry about it.

“I deserve that.” His accent was the same as always. Smooth. Elegant. The best that private school could buy. “I should have reached out sooner as I knew my siblings were in touch.”

My mother, the martyr, was quick to reassure him. “Sweetheart, you don’t owe us anything. We’re just so happy you’re alright.”

She was so warm with him, a complete contrast to how she acted with me. It was a constant reminder that she always wanted a son and ended up with me instead.

My father opened his mouth to speak when his right hand, Marcus, walked in with a phone in his hand. His face looked pinched, stressed, and my father immediately stood. “Excuse me.”

Sean nodded politely and turned to my mother, but she was already standing and following behind dad, sensing his stress.

“Should we be concerned?”

I shook my head, my eyes still trained in the doorway. “I doubt it.”

Things were quiet then. Too fucking quiet. So quiet I felt like I was suffocating. I took a sip of wine. Then another. Another until my glass was empty and the bottle was taunting me from the center of the table.

“You have every right to be angry.”

“I’m not angry.” I was instantly defensive.

His smile was small, but it was there. “You always were a shit liar.”

“You were always a good one.”

His smile disappeared then and I was soon sitting across from the gangster that was always lurking underneath. Sean could do cool, calm, and collected. But he could only hide the angry, arrogant Wallace traits for so long. 

“I… can’t remember the last time we were face to face.”

I shrugged my shoulders, suddenly uncomfortable. “Christmas. Six years ago. Kingston.”

His smile- God, that fucking smile- reappeared. “You threw a drink in my face.”

“You called me a spoiled fucking twat.”

“You were acting like one.”

Now it was my turn to smile. I didn’t want to, but I couldn’t help it. My early twenties were filled with vodka soda fueled arguments and boyfriends that my family- and Sean- hated. I was so different, that girl doesn’t even seem real anymore.

I was about to respond when I heard shouting coming from down the hall. My father’s office.

Sean and I stood at the same time, both of us sensing a certain level of danger. My father rarely ever shouted, it had to be something catastrophic for him to raise his voice like that.

Entering the hall, I quickly grabbed my bag next to the bar cart and produced my glock before tucking it into my waistband. Sean watched me silently the entire time. He was getting a little too comfortable with staring at me.

“Always prepared.”

“Family business, right?” I shot back at him over my shoulder as we neared my father’s study.

“No, no, fucking No! What do you mean they’re all dead? An entire fucking warehouse of people and they’re all fucking dead?”

My heart stopped in my chest. That was… impossible. The warehouses were untouchable, no one knew where they were unless they were part of our inner circle. Our microscopic inner circle. Which could only mean one thing…

It was an inside job.

“Fuck.” I spat. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

“Y/N, something’s happened.” My mother appeared in the doorway as we approached.

“Who did it?” I asked, getting straight to the point. “Any ideas?”

My dad was seated behind his wooden desk, a desk so large it was fit for a king. When I was a child I would spend hours in there reading on the stuffed leather couch while he worked silently. It was one of the few places I felt “safe” growing up.

“Kensington’s dead.” Our eyes met.

Rodger Kensington was my father’s longtime business partner and someone who was like an uncle to me. He’d been there at my prom, my graduation, and when I took my first steps. He was… family.

“Shit.” Sean’s word was quick and quiet, but then I remembered he knew Rodger too, and he knew what this meant.

“What about Sherry? The kids?” I was desperate to make sure their little ones were alright, they were all so young.

“They’re fine. They weren’t home, they-“

My father never got the words out as one of the staff walked in. I had turned at the sound of him entering the room, just barely meeting his eye as he raised his arm, a small handgun pointed directly at the man whose home we were in.

“Y/N!” My mother screaming my name like that would haunt my nightmares for months after.

A single shot rang out and my ears rang, a gasp leaving my lips as I reached for the gun in my waistband. But it wasn’t there.

The man was dead, a gunshot to the temple with crimson blood spilling all over the Italian wood floors. And then there was Sean, standing at my side with my gun pointed straight ahead, a dead look in his eyes.

It was all dangerously quiet and I could hear my own heartbeat, but only for a moment. Because as soon as I took a single breath, shit hit the fan.

My mother released a blood curdling scream, Marcus rushing to her side and grabbing her as she collapsed. My father, stoic, stood and walked over to the wardrobe near the window, swiftly pulling out guns and rounds of ammo. More security rushed in and I stood next to Sean, everything moving in slow motion. I could hear voices, hear my dad barking commands at his security who acted like his soldiers.

“There’s blood on my shoes.”

“What?”

What? Did I just say there was blood on my shoes? But it was true. My expensive cream suede shoes had blood splatter on them and I was ninety percent sure there was bone fragment near my heel.

“Blood. On my shoes.” My voice sounded far away.

Sean was suddenly in front of me and tucking my gun back into my waist while everyone shouted around us. “I’ll buy you a new pair. Bought them at the store on fifth, yeah?”

“How the fuck did you-“ I stopped, putting two and two together. “Have you been watching me?”

Sean’s face changed then and he straightened his shoulders. Our height nearly matched but only because of my heels, and I knew his gesture was dominant, authoritative. “I promise we can talk about that later, but-“

I pushed past him and walked towards my father who was barking orders into a phone. “Did you have Sean keep tabs on me?”

“Y/N, this isn’t the time for you to complain about your independence.”

I slammed my hand down on the wooden desk the same way I had watched him do it so. Many. Times. “Answer me!”

My father, all six foot three of him, stood tall and looked over me even with a desk separating us. “Watch yourself, young lady.”

“What the fuck is going on that you hired someone to watch me? That you hired Sean to watch me? What aren’t you telling me?”

He paused for the briefest of moments while everyone moved around us. I could hear safeties being turned off, my mom screaming down the hallway, and feel Sean standing close enough that I could smell his cologne.

“I’ve known for a bit that someone on the inside was giving information to Merkov brothers. Rodger and I spent months sifting through the weeds trying to figure out who it was. We had a break last night, I was going to tell you everything-“

“Four black SUV’s were spotted five miles from the property. Moving quickly. We need to go.” Marcus had appeared in the doorway sans my mother, his face wiped of anything sort of emotion. In fact, Marcus may have been the most emotionless man I had ever come into contact with. I would even venture to call him heartless.

“Shit.” My dad scrubbed a hand over his face. “I promise I will tell you everything, angel.” He looked at me, the desk separating us. “But right now you need to go and it can’t be back to your apartment.”

“Dad, I…” I had no idea what to say. I couldn’t go back to my apartment in the city, there was most definitely a hit out on my family, including myself, and Sean Wallace was back from the fucking dead. My day was going from bad to worse, my life blowing up in a twenty minute time span.

But I knew my last name, knew the weight it carried. I knew I had a certain responsibility to handle my shit and handle it well, with my shoulders back and my chin up.

“Where am I going?”

He was already on the move and I was on his heels, following him down the winding hallways of the home I grew up in. It was the same house that was sure to be shot to shit as soon as those SUV’s showed up.

“Harbor House.” He barked over his shoulder. “You can drive down there in the charger. Tinted windows. Marcus, have Anthony load a bag into the car. Ammo, guns, everything she’ll need.”

“No one knows where Harbor House is except us.” I reminded him. His business partners may have known about the warehouses and my father’s permanent residence, but Harbor House was for family and family alone.

“I’m not taking any chances, Y/N, not with you. Sean will accompany you and you’ll stay there until you hear from me. I’ll call-“

“What?” I cut him off. “Sean’s not coming with me.”

“I’m not taking any chances with you.” He repeated.

“I don’t need a babysitter.”

Sean cleared his throat behind me and I refused to look at him. I knew he was offended by what I’d said, but quite honestly I was offended by everything he had done since stepping foot in my parents’ home that day.

“This isn’t about what you need or want, Y/N. He’s going with you.”

I was about to fully lose my temper when shots rang out through the house. I reached for my glock and turned the safety off, immediately ducking behind a marble pillar with Sean’s hand on my elbow, holding me still.

There was yelling and gunshots, some of the housekeepers screaming bloody murder from the second and third floors. There was no way those SUV’s were already on the property, no way. It had to be someone else.

Someone had burned our entire fucking family.

“Dad!” I yelled as a bullet whirred past my head.

“Y/N, go! Now!” I could hear him but I couldn’t fucking see him. Marco was beating the shit out of a man dressed all in black, ripping his gun away and firing off a round into his chest. The smell of blood and gunpowder burned my nostrils and I winced.

“I’m not leaving you!” I screamed so loud my voice cracked.

“Sean!” My father shouted. “Get her the fuck out of here! Get her out now, kid! Now!”

I glanced over at Sean, warning him with my eyes not to touch me, but it was too late. He ripped the gun from my hand and wrapped an arm around my waist, tugging me backwards.

“Sean, no!” I screamed, trying to pull away.

“We have to go, Y/N.” He dragged me down the hall while I fought him the whole way , dragging my feet and scratching at the suit clad arm wrapped around my waist. He finally stopped at the side door at the end of the hall and yanked it open before tossing me in.

I stumbled across the cold concrete of the garage and caught myself against the car I was supposed to be leaving in.

Sean locked the door behind him and turned to me, my gun still in his hand. “In.” He motioned to the car.

Still the same, bossy man he always was. Without responding, I turned and made my way across the expansive garage, shoving a table out of the way and yanking open the drawers of a metal cabinet.

“Y/N!” Sean was losing his temper and we were losing time.

“You took my gun!” I finally screamed back, practically growling at him as I picked up twin Berettas and tucked them into the back of my waistband. I grabbed a rifle to throw into the backseat, and one more Glock since Sean had unceremoniously stolen mine and left me empty handed.

He was staring at me as I made my way back to the car, his chest heaving. God, he still looked good. A gunshot to the face only amplified how rough and beautiful he was. Dumb fucking asshole and his dumb fucking face.

I grabbed the keys from the wall and tossed them to Sean who caught them with one hand.

Show off, I thought to myself sullenly as I got into the passenger side, my heart leaping out of my chest. I was about to leave my parents to potentially die. My childhood home was being torn apart, half the staff that knew me since I was a child were now lying dead in the same house they’d dedicated their lives to. It made me sick.

“Just focus on driving.” I told him as the garage door began to rise. I could already see the shadows of feet on the concrete leaned halfway out the window, my nine millimeter raised. One shot to the knee and a man fell, a second shot between the eyes and he was done.

The second man was smart, moved off to the side and just out of aim, and Sean floored the gas pedal while I kept watch.

“Your left.” I said quietly and pointed the gun in front of him, sending shots flying out of the driver’s side door, taking out the second man who had been waiting for us.

“Three of them in front of the gate.” Sean nodded towards the gate at the side of the property, all of them holding assault rifles and aiming at us. “Duck.” he commanded with the car still in reverse.

“What?”

“Duck.” I felt his hand grab at the back of my head he shoved me down, my forehead nearly knocking against my knee as he picked up speed. A loud blast blew out the back windshield and then there was a loud, violent thunk.

His wide palm was still resting on the back of my head, grip so tight it made my scalp prickle in a way that annoyed me. My body had no business getting turned on while in the midst of this shit.

When the tires squealed against the gravel and we went surging forward, I sat back up. I could see smoke coming out of the windows, bullet holes in the brick and mortar. It was a fucking war zone and we were on our way out, leaving behind my family and any shred of sanity I had left.

Fuck.

* * * * * *

The ride to Harbor House was almost completely silent. Sean, ever the Brit, would curse out other drivers every now and then even though ninety percent of the mistakes were his own. Maybe I should have insisted on driving, but at the time the only thing I could think about was whether or not my parents got out.

Although we were never close, I didn’t wish death on my parents. Sure, I resented them for bringing me up in a life of chaos and violence and I’m well aware they caused me a lifetime of trauma, but that didn’t mean I wanted them dead. Definitely not murdered.

It was nearly midnight by the time we arrived. Harbor House was in an exclusive neighborhood and every home had a gate. It had been years since I was last at the house, but it held the only fond memories from my childhood. Harbor House and the Wallace house always felt like home to me. Strange that I was sitting next to a Wallace and not a single shred of me felt comfortable or at home. It was strange, when we were kids he was always my safe space.

I punched in the code and black iron gates opened up, promptly closing with a loud clang behind us. The property itself was a sprawling estate with a two floor home as well as a large yard, pool, and separate guest house. It was on the edge of a cliff and overlooked the Atlantic. Isolated. Safe. Private. The kind of place my family relied on to keep us safe.

“Pull the car into the garage, we’ll get a rental tomorrow.” My voice was monotonous. I felt so drained of every emotion other than pure exhaustion. I was covered in blood, my clothes smelled like gunpowder and sweat, I needed a hot shower.

Sean silently pulled into the garage and killed the engine. We sat there quietly for a moment, so quiet I couldn’t even hear him breathing. If he had any blood on him, I couldn’t tell. From this angle he looked every bit the GQ model. It was only when he turned his face to look at me that I got a glimpse of the mauled left half and got angry all over again.

I was angry at my parents for birthing me into this.

I was angry at whoever burned us.

I was angry at Sean for disappearing from my life in favor of violence. But I was so fucking angry that he had let it go so far that the world thought he was dead.

I almost wished he was.

“There’s five bedrooms. I trust that you’ll find one far away from me?” I phrased it like a question but we both knew it wasn’t.

He gave a curt nod.

The house was exactly as I remembered it. It even smelled the same. Hardwood floors, light walls, French doors leading to a beautiful deck. A kitchen so modern it would make Gordon Ramsey cream his pants. It was the homiest home my family had. It was my haven.

Only now Sean was here to cast a shadow over it.

“There’s plenty of clothes in all the guest bedrooms. My parents like to be prepared for every emergency, you know that.”

Sean nodded as he closed the door that connected to the garage. He locked it and was quick to set the code. The code that he definitely shouldn’t have had.

“How did you-“

“Your father.”

I raised my eyebrows incredulously. “My father gave you the codes to Harbor House?”

He sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, eyes narrowing. “He gave me the code for the gate too, but I was polite enough to let you do it. That’s something, innit?”

He was being a smart ass, pushing my buttons on purpose simply because he could. Or because he’d had enough of my attitude. Either way, I wasn’t having it.

“You must be so fuckin’ proud of yourself. You still have an in with my father even after the shit you pulled in London. My father, Sean, not me. You don’t have shit with me and you made that perfectly clear.”

He squared his shoulders and I couldn’t help but roll my eyes as I sat on the edge of a beautiful cream colored sofa. I couldn’t wait to sink into it tomorrow with a good book.

I quickly fingered at the straps on my heels and kicked them off while mentally preparing for whatever speech he was about to throw my way.

“I’ve really had enough of you talking to me like I’m some shit person. Enough, Y/N.”

I stood back up, hating that I was smaller than him now as I turned on my heel and headed up the stairs. “If you hate my attitude so much then leave me the fuck alone and let me take a shower in peace.”

* * * * *

My shower was hot and relaxing and everything I needed. As soon as the steam surrounded me, I was able to calm down a bit, and once the hot water hit my skin I was able to sigh in relief. Washing off the blood and grime left me feeling like a whole new woman.

So new, in fact, I briefly forgot about the bane of my existence showering down the hall.

Sean. Showering. Sean in the shower with water dripping down his chest and into that perfect V of his hips. Sean’s hot, wet body pressed against mine. Sean’s-

“Can you not?” I said to my reflection as I ran a brush through my hair. Even when I was angry at him, violently angry, it was impossible to deny that he was attractive.

We never hooked up, not even when we were young. But there was always something there. We flirted. We toyed with each other. We got into nasty arguments. People noticed, my friends made comments. I always ignored them and played it off and said it was because we knew each other forever and just connected that way. They all argued that it was more.

I ignored them.

After changing into a comfortable pair of loose cotton pants and a long sleeved shirt, I made my way downstairs. The windows were open and I could hear the waves crashing against the cliff side. My favorite sound. It gave me peace. It soothed me.

The kitchen was empty and I grabbed a bottle of red wine with every intention of drinking the entire bottle. After pouring a rather large amount into the pristine crystal stemware my mother bought, I threw my head back and took a long, large sip.

Ugh. That’s better. I closed my eyes and took another sip, getting lost in the sound of the waves and the dark, cherry taste of the wine. A moment of peace after all the bullshit I had to endure tonight.

It was only when Sean cleared his throat that I realized I wasn’t alone. He was standing at the bottom of the stairs wearing black sweats and a white t-shirt. Simple. Clean. Comfortable. If this had been a few years ago I would have been aching to curl up against him.

“Kitchen’s all yours,” I said as I grabbed my glass and bottle, preparing to go out back.

“You told me you didn’t want to talk to me anymore.” His words cut like a knife to my retreating back and it made me pause, not yet turning around. “You fucking told me you were done.”

I knew what he was referring to. The last time we spoke had been over the phone, maybe four years ago. It had been a normal night with normal conversation and normal “I miss yous”. Sean had truly been one of my best friends and closest confidants. And then the conversation turned ugly when he informed me his father was sending him out on a seriously violent, potentially fatal, mission. Our argument had gotten vile and I said horrible things. He did too, including telling me to “stop acting like a girlfriend because you’re so fucking lonely”.

That had been my breaking point. He reminded me so much of Finn then. He dressed like him, spoke like him, became a carbon copy of him, and I was having none of it. So I had told him to fuck off and lose my number, to never call me again, to pretend I was dead.

It was the one time Sean listened to me and the one time I wished he hadn’t.

To this day, I got embarrassed when I thought about what he had said to me. The way he screamed and the way he humiliated me. Maybe I was lonely, maybe it came off as clingy, but my intentions were always good and I never thought I was a burden to him. But after that last conversation I spent years telling myself that’s exactly what I was. A burden. I checked in too much, my double texting him probably got on his nerves. Constantly complaining about our families when I knew how fortunate I was to live such a lavish life made me sound spoiled, he got tired of it. I spent years convincing myself there was no possible way he missed me and I didn’t miss him either.

“Do you even remember our last conversation?” I turned slowly to face him. “Do you remember what you said?”

He took a step forward and scrubbed a hand over his face. “Of course I do. I’ve had plenty of time to think about it- you. I’d been out drinking with my father-“

“And then turned into him?”

“Oh, fuck off then.” He shook his head, his frustration evident as he rounded the marble island in the kitchen. An expert, he seemed to know where everything was. The glasses. The whiskey.

“I’m not wrong.” I defended myself.

Sean laughed and the sound was hollow, sarcastic. He took a sip of whiskey before turning to me with a cold look in his eyes. “And I wasn’t wrong that day either. Was I?”

I scowled at him to mask the absolute hurt I was experiencing. My heart ached. He’d known he was hurting me. He didn’t care. He remembered and he didn’t care.

“Oh, fuck you, Sean.” I whispered before quickly pushing through the french doors and stepping onto the deck.

“Oi!” Sean shouted as I slammed the doors behind me, taking off down the steps, wine glass in hand.

“I’m not done talking to you.” Sean was hot on my heels.

“The conversation is over.”

“Like hell it is.” I felt long, thick fingers curl around my elbow and then he was hauling me back against him. “You say what you want to say and then think we’re done. We’re not.”

I ripped my arm back and shoved my finger in his face. “I’ve waited four years to say this shit to you!”

“So have I!” He shouted back, the vein in his neck becoming prominent. The female part of my brain wondered what it would feel like to run my tongue along that vein, feel it pulse against my mouth.

Wrong time, I thought to myself and shook my head. “You fucked off for four years, faked your own death, and now I found out my father has had you following me. I don’t know what kind of weird, stalker fetish you’ve developed, but it’s really not doing anything for me.”

Okay, maybe that last part was flat out bitchy, but at that point I didn’t care.

I drained my wine glass while I waited for his response.

“Would you like to tell me about your fetishes?”

“Sure, they all involve watching you bleed out.”

“Should have been there a year ago then, yeah?”

I didn’t have a response for that. I zeroed in on the left half of his face, the scar on his cheek. His cheekbone curved differently, probably because it was handmade, and his scar disappeared into his stubble. He looked so vastly different from the Sean I used to know. He was hardened by life, by Finn’s life. Thirty and angry and alone and legally dead.

I ached for the Sean I once knew, but this wasn’t him.

“How long have you been watching me?”

“A little more than three months.”

“Three months?” I was shocked. I’d had a tail for three months and I didn’t even know it? How embarrassing.

“You wouldn’t have known.” It was as though he could read my mind. “I’ve always been better at it than you.”

“You’re so fucking cocky.” I didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, or slap him, so instead I walked past him and back up the stairs, making my way back into the house to refill my glass. I knew he was following me, knew that the alcohol in my bloodstream was making me feel bold, more bold than I was sober.

Sean closed the French doors, the lock clicking with a tone of finality. I was too aware of it.

“You were shit as hide and seek when we were kids.”

“So that makes you a better spy?”

His tone was serious when he responded. “I was never spying on you. I didn’t have access to your flat. I didn’t follow you around with that ugly wanker with gray hair.”

“Leave Beckett out of this.”

“Beckett?” It was the first time his face had resembled something other than anger. He looked amused. “You’re dating a man named Beckett?”

I cocked my head to the side, narrowing my eyes. “We actually aren’t discussing my dating life, we’re talking about my stalker.”

“Stop saying that. It was to and from work. Only when you were out in public.”

“That doesn’t make it okay!” I finally shouted. None of what happened today was okay. Sean, my dad, the shootout. None of it was okay. “You don’t get to keep up with my fucking life when I have to pretend you’re dead!”

“Lower your voice.” Sean took a step forward.

“Fuck off!” I shouted even louder than before. “You don’t get to just come back and bark orders at me. This isn’t London, Sean!”

“Enough.” He took another step forward and I backed up, reaching for my wine glass.

He was so calm, so fucking collected while I was beginning to fall apart. I hated him for it. Fuck Sean Wallace, I wanted him to hurt the way I did. So, without thinking twice, I hurled my glass at him. Sean barely dodged it, whipping his head to the side as it soared past him and landed on the floor in a million little pieces.

He was a blur as he flew across the kitchen, growling as he slammed my back up against the wall. I cried out as searing pain sent shock waves down my back, but I was too angry to focus on it. My hands instantly went into fight mode and my fingers caught the tip of his nose as I swiped at him, but he pulled his head back, out of my reach.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” He roared in my face. “Are you bloody mental?” His hands circled my wrists and he pinned them at my sides, effectively halting my movements.

Stuck between Sean and the wall, I suddenly couldn’t breathe. “Let me go.”

“The fuck I will.” He squeezed my wrists harder.

“Sean.” I shoved myself against him and he did the same thing, his face even closer than before. I could smell the whiskey on his breath, see the smattering of freckles across his nose and cheeks. God, he was a sight. “Fuck. Off.”

His eyes zeroed in on my mouth as I enunciated the words, nostrils flaring slightly. My breasts were pressed against his chest and I couldn’t move even if I wanted to, because suddenly we were staring each other eye to eye and I couldn’t look anywhere else. I was drowning the way I always imagine I would except this time I didn’t want it. I wanted no part of it.

“Don’t even think about it.” I whispered softly.

“Or what?” Sean’s remark felt snide and childish, something I would have happily said to him had he not leaned down and slid his lips over mine. It was a light touch, so soft I barely felt it. But I still gasped because it was Sean’s lips touching mine and I hated that I liked it so much.

At the sound of my sharp intake of breath, he smirked. “I fucking knew it.” And then he smashed his lips against mine, not letting up on the grip he had on my wrists.

Sean’s tongue pushed past my lips and slid against mine, weakening my reserve just a bit. He tasted good, his scruff scratched against the edges of my mouth and I reveled in it, loving how rough he felt.

He fucking engulfed my mouth, taking complete control of the kiss and demanding that I give him more. Forgetting the position we were in, he let go of my wrists in favor of cupping my face, wide palms against my cheeks.

I should have pushed him away, should have told him to leave, but the simple truth was that Sean Wallace knew how to kiss. He kissed like a man, held my face, stroked rough thumbs over my cheekbones, and swallowed my moans. He crowded me, stood so close our torsos were touching while we made out against the kitchen wall. Our tongues touched, teeth clashed, and when I sucked Sean’s bottom lip into my mouth the groan he let out was guttural. Animalistic.

But the noise was enough to bring me back to reality and I shoved my hands against his chest, pushing him away from me as hard as I could.

Sean stumbled back and caught himself on the counter. He was just as caught up as I was, his eyes wild, cheeks flushed red.

“You’ve got some nerve.” I cleared my throat and wiped my mouth, still tasting him on my tongue.

“Me?” He had the audacity to smile, still clearly fired up. “You were the one sucking my lip like it was my cock.”

My cheeks felt hot. The way he said cock with the accent and the smirk… it murdered me on the inside. It absolutely killed me how good it sounded. “You wish.”

“Every fucking night.” Sean stepped forward again. “I think about you sucking my cock every. Fucking. Night.”

His admission left me breathless. It felt like someone had knocked the wind out of me. The thought of Sean laying in bed at night and thinking about my mouth wrapped around his dick lit me up. I was hot everywhere.

“Sean-“

“Shut the fuck up.” He crowded me again, this time wrapping one arm around my back and pulling me against him. “For once in your life, please, Y/N, shut the fuck up.”

Cupping the back of my head, Sean kissed me again. I wanted to fight him, wanted to tell him to fuck off, but that would only prove him right. I really did have a problem with shutting the fuck up.

So, I kissed him back. I gave it my all, twining my arms around his neck and leaning against him. Sean tongue fucked my mouth as though he’d been dying to for years, and after his admission I wondered if he had. His body felt warm against mine and feeling his fingertips glide along the exposed area of my lower back made my knees nearly buckle.

He smiled against my mouth and before I knew it, Sean was sliding both hands down, gripping my hips and hoisting me in the air. My legs locked around his waist instantly, ankles crossing at the small of his back while he carried me through the kitchen.

Our mouths never stopped touching. I’d been waiting years to kiss Sean. I’d been waiting years to slap the fuck out of him as well, but right now the only thing I cared about was keeping our mouths fused together for as long as humanly possible. I felt drunk on him, on the taste of whiskey on his tongue.

I didn’t realize we were in the living room until Sean sat down on the couch with me straddling his lap. I took the opportunity to pull back slightly, his lips chasing my own, and I smiled at the way he leaned forward. I cupped the right side of his face, loving the way his scruff felt against my soft palm. He truly was beautiful, the red-brown hair and beard, the plump mouth that spent more time scowling than smiling. His freckles, God, when we were young I could have spent hours counting them.

And then there was that scar. That brutal, obvious scar. The trauma his body must have gone through made me sick and when I reached up to run my fingers over the jagged, raised skin, Sean was quick to grab my wrist in a bruising grip.

“Don’t touch me there.”

But I wanted to. So badly. But it was clear in his reaction, in the stiffness of his body, that he was serious. Of all the limits Sean DIDN’T have, touching the left side of his face was one of them and I had no choice but to respect it.

“Fine, how about you touch me then?”

It was all the incentive Sean needed and he flipped me onto my back, hovering over me with one hand braces on the back of the couch. Our eyes held as I slid my hands down his chest, his heartbeat pulsing under my hand as I slid lower, lower still until I gripped the hem of his shirt and yanked it up. He leaned back, only for a moment to rip the shirt off his head and send it flying.

Fair skinned with broad shoulders and a tapered waist, I itched to lick the V that disappeared into his waistband. He may have been injured, but he hasn’t been resting this last year. Sean didn’t have the body of a man who rested, he had the Jody of a man who was constantly pushing himself. He was strong in every sense of the word and it made me pathetically, desperately wet for him.

“Your turn,” he said against my lips, fingers playing under my shirt and sliding along my ribs. “You’re so fucking soft.” He whispered against the skin of my cheek.

Unable to help myself, I reached down to cup him through his sweats. Jesus… Christ. “You’re so fucking not.”

Sean laughed then, but I was dead serious. Either Sean was hiding a gun in his pants or his cock was just that fucking solid. And… thick. Even through his pants I could tell. I squeezed once and he let out a guttural groan, the sound sending shock waves between my legs. I wanted that sound on a loop for the rest of my life.

He pushed my shirt up and over my head, eyes zeroing in on my breasts. “Fuck me…” He trailed off, cupping one in his hand and giving a firm squeeze as he settled his eight between my legs. I could feel him against my clit even with barriers of clothing separating us.

“I always wondered what your nipples looked like.” He licked one gently and my back arched hard, my whole body tightening. “They’re so much better than my imagination.”

Sean fastened his mouth against my nipple and he sucked, flicking his tongue against the sensitive bud while I writhed underneath him. My nails scraped through his shirt hair, digging into his scalp and holding him against me. He said he had wondered what they would look like, but I spent the better part of a decade wondering what this would feel like.

Fuck, it felt good.

Sean’s hips ground against mine as he moved to my other nipple, hands roaming felt over my body, gripping my clothes thighs and sliding up my sides. Tracing along my collarbone, fingers tugging at the nipple that wasn’t getting any attention.

I felt like a horny teenager, aching to have him inside me as fast as humanly possible. My nails raked over his shoulders and he gave a delicious growl in return, leaning up and hovering over me again. 

“I’ve thought about your mouth on my cock for ages, but right now the only thing I want is to be buried inside you. That okay?”

I was modding before he even finished speaking. Fuck a blowjob, fuck foreplay. I didn’t need that with Sean, not now. Right now I just needed… connection. I was almost desperate for it and it fucking terrified me.

Sean leaned back on his knees and hooked his fingers into my pants, tugging them down in one swift move and leaving me completely naked and sprawled out in front of him. His eyes raked over me and my breath hitched in my throat. He could see… everything.

“Fuck me… this body was fucking made for me.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, wiggling my brows. “A bit cocky, yeah?”

“No.” His face was serious, eyes focused as they raked over my breasts, my hips, my legs, zeroing in on the spot between my thighs. Sean slid one long, thick finger over my slit and I cried out, my body stiffening. “I knew you’d be bald here.” He repeated the motion. “Been dying to see that tattoo on your thigh for ages.”

I’d gotten the tattoo when I was 20 and officially moved out of my parents house. It was one of those stupid young decisions, but I didn’t regret it. It was a snake that wrapped all the way around my right thigh, the snake’s tongue permanently engraved on my inner thigh like an invitation. Or a warning.

“And?” I asked inquisitively, rubbing a hand absentmindedly down my stomach.

“And I think this body was fucking made for me.”

His lips came crashing down on mine again and I wrapped my bare legs around his waist, loving the way his hip bones pressed into my thighs. He littered kisses over my cheekbone, an oddly sweet gesture, and then absolutely assaulted my neck, licking and biting and nipping at my collarbone until I cried out.

I reached down, yanking at his sweats and pushing them down his thighs with my heels. I was fucking dying for Sean Wallace to be inside of me, I couldn’t even breathe because I wanted him so badly. Needed him, needed to know what it was like to feel him.

“Sean.” I gasped as he braced one hand above my head, the other one gripping his cock and lining it up at my entrance. I gripped his bicep when he pushed the tip in, my nails digging half crescents into his skin.

“Sean.” I repeated his name, this time somewhat panicked because what the fuck was I doing? Was I really about to fuck him?

“Remember when I told you to shut the fuck up?” Sean’s eyes met mine and he gave one sharp, hard thrust and was suddenly inside me so deep I swore I could feel him in my cervix.

I didn’t even have time to gasp, my mouth fell open in a silent scream and Sean’s groan was something I’d think about for months. He was so deep I felt as though I couldn’t breathe, looking up at him completely frozen.

“Oh, fuck.” He finally breathed out. “That’s right, so good you can’t even speak.”

“I… hate you.” I finally managed, leaning up and catching his bottom lip between my teeth, tugging so hard he let out a groan of pain.

“You don’t hate me.” Sean pulled nearly all the way out before slamming back inside me, giving me no warning or time to breathe. But the yelp I let out was enough to make him smirk.

Cocky bastard.

Fine, I could play. Tightening my legs around his waist, I raked my nails down his back and watched his face change, jaw clenching tight. I licked his collarbone before sucking the skin there. I sucked hard and didn’t stop until I felt his fingers tangle in my hair and yank me back, forcing me to look at him.

“You’re not the fucking boss right now.” He practically growled the words, not letting up on the grip on my hair. He pumped in and out of me, my scalp pricking with a weird, pleasurable pain that left me moaning for more.

Sean’s thrusts got harder and I cried out when he hit that spot, so deep I could feel him everywhere. “Sean!” I cried his name, my breath hitching in my throat.

He let my hair go in favor of those perfect ducking fingers wrapping around my throat. His thumb pressed firmly under my jaw, I had no other choice but to look at him as he fucked me into oblivion.

“Fuck, I missed you.” He groaned, pressure on my throat tightening just a bit. “Thought about you every fucking day.”

I was instantly thrown back into reality. Everything that happened that day. The shooting. Sean coming back from the dead, all of it.

“Nope, stay with me.” Sean commanded, sensing my disconnect. He slowed his thrusts leaning down to lick at my lips lightly. It was oddly erotic and I found myself whimpering for more. “That’s it, relax for me.”

“I…” I started desperately. “I can’t. Sean-“

He squeezed my throat harder and I suddenly gasped, my air being cut off. “Relax.” His voice was oddly soothing. “You can still breathe.”

I shook my head.

He paused his thrusts, once again settling deep inside me with my legs splayed. “Yes, you can. I’m not squeezing that hard. Breathe.”

I took in a breath. It was shallow, but it was there. Letting it out slowly, I repeated the motion, Sean catching on and thrusting every time I exhaled. It all felt different like this, barely able to breathe and dripping wet onto the couch. I’d never wanted someone more and I was terrified, I’d never been “handled” the way he was handling me, treating me like I was his.

“Been waiting years to feel you come on my cock.” He groaned when he released my throat, leaning back on his heels and looking down at where we were connected. “God, you’re soaked. Made a proper mess all over me.”

I moaned because at that point words were not possible. My stomach felt tight, I felt like I was going to cry or laugh or scream. I felt like I was going crazy.

And then Sean rubbed his thumb over my clit, watching me jerk, and I knew I was done for. He did it again and again, giving me shallow strokes while he rubbed the little bundle of nerves that were certainly going to send me into a tailspin.

“Sean, please.” My back arched and I shouted, so fucking close, teetering on the edge.

“Come all over my cock so I can watch you lick it off after.”

My mouth fell open and I screamed his name, my orgasm hitting me like a ton of bricks. I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling Sean lean over me and wrap an arm around my back.

He picked up the pace while I clung to him, whispering in my ear about how he’d wanted it forever, how this was his, how I was his. It was overwhelming, yet I couldn’t bring myself to do anything other than rake my nails through his hair and whisper his name over and over again in his ear.

“Fuck.” Sean’s groan was long and low, stroking into me one, two, three more times before holding himself still, his climax hitting him as hard as mine hit me. 

His arms shook as he held himself over me, eventually collapsing onto my chest in a huff. We sat there silently, the sound of the waves crashing against the cliff side lulling us. Sean’s right cheek was pressed against my breast and his dick was still inside me. He was as close as he could possibly be but I somehow wanted him closer. I wanted to fucking absorb him into my body, keep him there forever and enjoy the weight of him on me.

“Sean?” I whispered, wondering if he was still awake.

“Hm?”

I ran my fingers lightly over the back of his neck and delighted in his shiver. “I’m really glad you’re not dead.”

He lifted his head then, searching my face for some sort of emotion, but I forced myself to remain stoic. It took Sean fucking my brains out for me to realize how much I missed him. How much I fucking loved him. But I couldn’t tell him that, I couldn’t give him that much power over me.

“Today was the first time in a year that I was thankful that bullet didn’t kill me.” Sean’s words were honest, quiet.

We didn’t say anything after that, we didn’t really need to. In that moment we were safe, together after years of being apart, and now all we had to do was wait for word from my father. Until then, I was going to enjoy whatever time I had with Sean and I prayed I would never have to pretend he was dead again.

[renjiokumura]

Love?

Min Yoongi x Plus size reader

Disclaimer: Anything I write is purely fiction.

Tags: Angst, Established Relationship, and cursing.

Summary: Everyone has there limits and Y/N just found Yoongi’s. 

A/N: I write the reader pretty undescriptive. I tend to use female pronouns, so you’ll probably have to specifically ask me for something with male pronouns or gender neutral. But the reader can be any race you are and be related to the characters through adoption or whatever helps you move the story along. I want everyone to feel like they can read my writing.

The lights were flashing, blood was bumping, and the noises were deafening. There was a thin layer of sweat coating your body, and mixed with the hot lights shining upon you, you glowed. With poise, precision, and wild abandon, you hit every dance move and wreaked the stage. You commanded the stage with your wild energy and your fans loved it. You never thought in a million years you would be preforming as a musical artist, let a lone at MAMA as the opening act. But here you were rapping and singing your songs for your fans. Your new style was a diamond in the rough theme, with flashy accents here, grungy tones there, and punk black filling everywhere else. You are probably wondering how you got here, well it all started a little less than a year ago.

It had been two years into your relationship and on your end, it seemed like everything was going wonderfully in it, but you were very wrong.

You were a sweet doting girlfriend. Ever since you were a child you loved to care and help people as much as you could. That was sweet and all, but some people found that overbearing, that’s why you didn’t have too many friends growing up. You got better at reining it in enough to get a friend, but you still had your moments.

“Y/N, you know he’s busy, so give him some space. The boys will be there for him if something happens so calm down.” Your friend sighed, exasperated with you for staring at your phone instead of enjoying each other’s presence at your favorite café.

“I know, I know. But I still get worried and he hasn’t texted back for about a day and the longest he has ever not responded was an hour.” You looked up at you friend with pleading eyes, “He’s been doing this for a while now and I don’t know why.”

F/N abruptly stood up and snatched your phone out of your hand. “I’m doing this for your own good.” You were staring at her in complete shook as she sped walked out of the café.

“WAIT!” you said running after her. When you finally caught up with her you confronted her actions. “Why did you steal my phone and where are we going?” you asked out of breath.

She smirked looking at you, “Somewhere you can relax,” and looked forwards again walking with a purpose.

Back at the BTS dorm there was tension flowing rampantly. Yoongi had turned his phone off yesterday and it has been off since then. He was already irritated from the soon approaching comeback, and it would only get worst if he turned his phone back on.

It was a known fact that Yoongi was a patient, caring, and overall nice person. Don’t get me wrong, he did have a cold aura but underneath that was a very nice man. But everyone had their limits, and Yoongi was getting close to his.

He genuinely loved his girlfriend and was nothing but grateful of her caring and supporting nature, but it was driving him crazy at the moment.

Currently he was stressing over finishing the last track of their new album, when there was a knock at the door. “Come in,” he said not caring who it was.

Jimin poked his head in the door cautiously knowing that his hyung was in no mood for any unnecessary distractions. “Hyung,” he called out nervously, “There has been a change in the schedule today and they need us right now at the dance studio.”

The growl that came from the rapper after did not ease the unfortunate messenger of the bad news from his nervousness. Taking a few calming breaths Yoongi respond to Jimin.

“Ok. Tell them I’ll be ready in 10 minutes, okay?” he said tiredly to his dongsaeng.

Jimin gave him a faint smile and nod then left as quietly as he came.

Thinking this would be a good way to let out some tension he got ready to go to the dance studio, unfortunately it was everything but. On the drive to the studio, he was under the impression that they would make slight adjustments to the dance routines. Instead, when the boys arrived at the dance studio they found out that the choreographer changed about half of the whole dance.

And that isn’t even the worst of it. Yoongi was messing up almost all of the new moves, which resulted in them staying longer. It wasn’t until 4 hours later that the new dance was perfected. The boys left the dance studio at about 9:30 PM and they were exhausted, more stressed then before they got there, and starving. On the drive home some of them took a nap and some were too restless to even let their consciousness slip away and obviously Yoongi was one not taking a nap.

As the boys were making their way back, you were finishing up getting food for the guys, knowing they aren’t taking care of themselves because of the comeback. Not to long ago, you and F/N split ways after leaving a cool new karaoke place you had been dying to go to. On the short walk to the dorms, you were bubbling with excitement to see the boys, especially your boyfriend.

You truly did love him. He was your rock and you were his marshmallow. He made you feel so good about yourself when you were down about your weight and you made sure to be there for him when he needed some help. You guys just worked so well together.

The boys got back to the dorms a few minutes before you, and that was enough time for the storm to start and wreak havoc. As the boys left the car slightly dazed and confused, Yoongi left his phone in the car, but Jungkook noticed and got it.

“Yoongi-hyung,” he called as he walked in the house last.

Yoongi turned around wondering what the maknae wanted but froze a little seeing the younger boy turning on his phone.

“Here you know our higher ups don’t like us having our phones off. Be careful.” He playfully scolded with his bunny smile not knowing what he had truly done.

As soon as the phone was in Suga’s hand, it started blowing up with multiple texts, missed calls, and voicemail notifications. And that is when Min Yoongi finally reached his limit. Shouting curses, he threw his phone lucky missing any of the members and or walls in his anger driven actions.

“I’m sick and fucking tired of her bullshit!” he was pacing at this point wanting to break something but trying to channel his anger in to just shouting. All the other boys were a little terrified at the out burst and didn’t know what to do or what it was about.

“Fuck!” he was stopped facing the boys and unaware of the person who snuck in after Jungkook.

“I mean fucking hell! I can’t do anything without her worrying me with her worrying about me for 5 secs. She’s over bearing, overly sensitive, and just plain annoying. She has been blowing up my phone with constant texts and I’m reaching my wits end with Y/N.” He finally finished his anger fueled confession, not knowing that the last person he wanted to hear it heard every word.

You couldn’t believe you ears. During his whole outburst, you were in the kitchen.  You were about to fix him a plate of food from the dinner you had brought him and the boys but were stopped by the loud volume of his voice. You knew you could be a little much and you came to terms with that even tried to fix it but hearing that the love of your life couldn’t even handle you really hurt.

Your body was visibly shaking with all the emotions running through you, but the most overpowering emotion was heartbreak. Silent tears fell from your eyes and they wouldn’t stop coming. Amazingly you were able to quietly make your way out of the house without being notice. As soon as you were out in the cold with only yourself and your thoughts, you cried hysterically and ran all the way home, running like you never have before.

Meanwhile back at the dorm, Taehyung had caught a waft, during Yoongi’s explosion of angry words, of delicious food. When Yoongi had settled down a little, the vocalist went to find out what the source of the smell was and left towards the kitchen. With Tae’s sudden movement, everyone broke from their stunned states noticing the smell of food and were soon following in behind him, even Yoongi.

Upon arriving to the kitchen, the boys found a big feast packed in multiple containers filled with their favorite foods. They all were confused on where it had come from. On closer inspection they noticed a uncomplete plate filled with some of Yoongi’s favorite foods and all came to the same realization.

“Fuck,” the oldest rapper cursed under his breath. Before anyone could make a move, in the silence, a single text notification was heard that made Yoongi’s blood run cold. Slowly grabbing his phone like it would bite him if he touched it. He unlocked it and saw the last text he would get from her for a long time.

My Love: Enjoy the food. I hope you guys have an amazing comeback. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be a bother. I promise I won’t anymore.

A/N: I might add more to this but I’m not sure. I just want to get some of my WIPs out there.

[honeybeanboo]

genshin boys with eating disorders : pt. 1

DISCLAIMER: okay first off! i have an eating disorder and i wondered what my favorite characters would be like in my situation! i am not pro-ed whether it be BED, ednos or anorexia or others. i'm using this for comfort and please do not use this post to further your own disorder!

CHARACTERS:

albedo ✔

bennet ✔

chongyun ✔

diluc ✔

kazuha

kaeya

razor

childe

venti

xiao

xingqiu

zhongli

MAJOR TW //

eating disorders, mental health challenges, bodyshaming, dysphoria, self harm, fatphobia

┅ albedo ┅

❂ restrictive eating disorder

❂ started + time had: before the traveller arrived, he's had it for a year or so

❂ who knows: sucrose suspects although doesn't hasn't told anyone yet

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

the nature of albedo's ed is forgetfulness and recording

he works in his camp all day, at his desk, doing experiments which in itself takes up a ton of his time! what started the behaviors was simply overworking himself and to the point where he was almost getting sick [ :( albedo ] the alchemist would forget to eat, multiple meals a day he would skip, chemicals in the vicinity making it unpleasant to eat, so he would opt for nothing at all

albedo doesn't recognize what he's doing as an eating disorder, he pushes the thoughts away when they remind him of what he's doing and that it's wrong,,, over time, he would end up having a small breakfast and wouldn't eat until dinner, subconsciously slipping into a routine and writing down each meal he would have, taking care to never fill more than half his note-page

chemicals in his lab constantly are bubbling and changing, so even when he decides to eat, they interrupt him and he constantly leaves unfinished food on his desk for sucrose to find later and wonder why he always leaves it there

- has always been secluded but avoids mondstat more and more, sending sucrose into town for errands and stays in dragonspine to do experiments -- this leads to never getting new clothes and in turn, him working to stay in the clothes he has

- denies everything if mentioned, seems confused at the mention

- very protective of his notebook

THIS MAKES ME SAD ALBEDO SOBSD

┅ bennett ┅

❂ restrictive eating disorder

❂ started + time had: around the time he became friends with razor and met fischl - around 6 months

❂ who knows: fischl definitely knows but chooses not to say anything due to how bad she is with talking about feelings :(

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

the nature of bennett's ed is dysphoria and responsibility

as we all know, bennett has always had horribly bad luck and although he doesn't know it, a lot of people admire him for his perseverance, albeit avoiding his company

he almost always finds a way to overcome the overwhelming hopelessness and guilt of always relying on other people for help and bringing them down with him, but as he enters his 15th year, it gets too much :(

when he met razor, and befriended him, the boy was something of a miracle, he stuck around, he helped bennett and taught him survival tactics :D he was bennett's best friend but bennett felt so incredibly guilty about relying on him for protection, friendship, and good food, he began to turn it away and began to disappear without warning to neither fischl or razor

he would go out adventuring, trying to bring back things to cook for lisa, for razor, for fischl, for kaeya, for diona, he felt like a burden and gave back as much as he could to make up for the consequences his company brought

≡ trans bennet headcanon: he's always been told he's small and thin by his dads, even before transition, so after he began to do more physical activity and bulked up a bit, it weighed on his mind

- dysphoria plays a lot into bennett's ed, not wanting to fill out the curves he always hated

- after a particularly bad batch of eggs he had cooked up, he threw up in the cat's tail's bathroom and that in turn started a small purge cycle before someone in town noticed and took his to the doctor which scared him enough to make him stop

bennett i will just sob and cry on the floor

┅ chongyun ┅

❂ restrictive / purging eating disorder [overeating in beginning]

❂ started + time had: started during his intense studying period for his exorcisms (can't remember the specific method he mentions) - around 2 years

❂ who knows: no one, although an older woman that works at Wanmin Restaurant is worried about him

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

the nature of chongyun's ed is control and work

chongyun has always been unstable, whether it be physically or emotionally, due to his build-up of ying energy, so it's no surprise when he bubbles over during the crunch of studying. his teacher pushed him harder and harder each lesson and the things he had to do to keep his stirrings in check weren't the healthiest, one of which was eating specific foods in excess

he bubbled over one day and had a full on mental breakdown, but with his family not near the place he took lessons, he turned to the thing he thought was making his ying energy multiply, not the workload but instead the food

the exorcist's disorder waned off when he met xingqiu, it being the happiest time in his life, a friend to talk to about practically everything, but then when his exorcisms began to only cause distress to the people he thought they would help, his energy became too much and he began purging, which helped enough for him to continue [ :( i'm so sad ] the popsicles help to calm his stomach after a purge and he came up with a low cal recipe to eat tons of

- the calories didn't matter much to him, but xingqiu was very into numbers as well as books, so it began to weigh on him

- he passed off any bad mood as just tiredness from his work

- xingqiu, my man i love him but he's completely oblivious although slightly worried about "burnout" for his friend

┅ diluc ┅

❂ restrictive eating disorder

❂ started + time had: around when him and kaeya were fighting, like really fighting and he hurt him badly - 3 years

❂ who knows: a lot of people suspect, but either dismiss it, or are too scared to confront him due to his intimidating nature T-T

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

the nature of diluc's ed is discipline and control

diluc tends to be very critical of himself and very hard on himself, which you may not know just from talking to him, or even from being a friend of his, as he tends to keep a lot of stuff to himself - if he makes a mistake, he takes all measures to make sure it doesn't happen again

when he and kaeya were fighting and things got violent, he burnt him quite badly right on his eye which is the reason why the captain wears his eyepatch - this scarred the brothers' relationship badly and diluc quite took literally took those scars unto himself,,, he would let himself be burned easily by his elemental powers, constantly feeling the immense guilt of their tension :[ he healed easily, but would do it again and again

although kaeya forgives him, diluc continues to remind himself every so often that he is the reason for problems, taking the responsibility to fix them, even though they may not even be his! he acts alone and aloofly even when the other person doesn't blame him in the slightest [ TT ]

diluc doesn't drink, he doesn't want to lose control, he never wants to loose control, which is why people almost never see him eat

he eats in small portions and toughs it out, disciplining himself, trying to prove himself worthy to no one but himself

- people have offhandedly mentioned that the bartender never seems to eat or drink - "hardly seems human sometimes"

- when he was caught by the traveler being the darknight hero, this worsened this "discipline" for himself, the man not thinking himself worthy if he was defeated so easily

≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡

and that's part 1! i'll make a part two soon because this is really fun and i really enjoy making these- i will include a more wide range of eds in the second part which will be kazuha, kaeya, razor, and childe

bennett's really made me sad dang

anyway bye!

[pokemoncreepypasta]

HM Slave

[STORY SOURCE]

The Generation I games. Definitely not perfect games by any means, but they were fun to play.

It's a shame my old cartridge’s battery has been long since dead. Makes sense, it was a hand-me-down from an older sibling of mine. Between both of our times playing it, it was bound to die sometime.

I was feeling nostalgic and wanted to play it again after so many years...

The trouble was, I had no intention of learning how to replace the battery, or buying a new cartridge. None of that appealed to me.

So, I just took it upon myself to play it without saving. Any time I wanted to stop, I’d just plug it into my charger, and leave it be.

Everything about this run was just for nostalgia. It was nothing personal to me, so I didn't name Red after myself or something.

I wanted to play through this game without getting attached to anything.

The best way to go through without caring? A starter-only run. I chose Charmander, since it was the cover ‘mon, and also my favorite of the three. Not necessarily because it would make the game easier in the long run.

Of course, there’s no way I’d be able to get through with just Charmander.

My plan was to catch a Pokémon specifically to use as an HM slave, so my Charizard wouldn’t be clogged up by useless moves in the long run.

And what better HM slave than the one who can learn them all, right?

In Generation I, you can’t delete moves in any way, so an HM slave was absolutely necessary.

Not like I hated Mew or anything... I just never performed the Mew glitch as a kid and thought that this would be a fun opportunity to try it.

The darned thing did everything within its power to not get caught, blowing through every single one of my PokéBalls that I’d prepared to catch it with. Hey, it wasn’t like I was going to need them later, so I didn’t complain.

I decided to nickname the little thing. I’d heard the term “HM mule” thrown around in place of HM slave, so I thought it would be funny.

Of course, picking the Fire type had its rocky start, with its disadvantage against the first two gym leaders.

I managed to scrape by with scummy tactics, though.

I’d switched to my Abra that I’d caught to perform the Mew glitch, and let Misty knock it out.

After that, I switched to Mewl for the free turn, and then healed my Charmeleon. Then, after Mewl fainted, I got a free switch into Charmeleon.

When the battle was over, I could proudly claim the Cascade Badge.

This was Mewl’s secondary purpose, to be switch fodder for me to heal my starter.

Things were going fine until Mewl learned Cut.

The first instance where Mewl’s “skills” would come into play.

This was a game where you couldn’t use HMs from the overworld, so I went to the menu to manually select it.

“MEWL ignored orders...”

Now, imagine my surprise when my slave wouldn’t listen to orders. I tried a few more times, with the same result.

I attempted to rationalize it, picking my brain for a reason. I assumed that you could not use HM moves while a Pokémon was fainted, but something about that didn’t seem right.

I healed at the Pokémon Center to be safe though.

That seemed to work, so I assumed that I was right and continued to Surge.

Nothing really unusual happened during the fight, but Mewl was knocked out again for a free heal.

On my way out, I had to cut down the tree blocking Surge’s gym again. I was worried for a moment that I had gotten myself stuck, but Mewl cut it down just fine.

I figured the game would let me use HM moves if I would be trapped otherwise.

I went back to the center to heal up my starter, and my stubborn little mule.

(And Abra too, I guess.)

I caught and released a few throwaway Pokémon to obtain Flash, which I immediately taught to Mewl.

I made my way to Rock Tunnel.

”MEWL won’t obey!”

I was frustratingly met with this. It was fully healed, I couldn't understand why it was disobeying. I wondered if it was some sort of consequence from having an illegitimate Mew...

I kept trying and trying, but no matter what, it wouldn’t light the cave.

I was sure this little bugger didn’t want to wander around in the dark just as much as me, so I really couldn’t figure out what was wrong.

I tried checking its summary, to which its blank, neutral expression had changed to something more... defiant?

I didn't know what kind of sick joke Morimoto was pulling on me by programming Mew to be this way, but I wasn’t having any of it.

It dawned on me that Abra could also learn Flash, so I just let Mewl be prissy and lit up the cave with Abra.

I somewhat regretted my choice to teach Mewl Flash. If I had known it was going to act like this, I would have just taught it Fly instead…

I decided to go ahead and skip getting Fly, since Charizard couldn't learn it anyway.

Thankfully, I made it out of Rock Tunnel just fine.

Charizard made Erika’s gym a total joke, so I didn’t even need Mewl as fodder for this fight.

The whole game was going fine so far up to Fuchsia City, and I had completely forgotten about Mewl’s disobedience by now.

I had obtained its final two moves, so I booted the HMs up and slapped them onto it.

Of course, to use Surf and progress, I had to face off against Koga.

Things were going well up until Charizard couldn’t deal with Koga’s last Pokémon.

I sent in Mewl to heal my Charizard.

”Enemy WEEZING used SLUDGE!”

“MEWL ENDURED the hit!”

Strangely, when Weezing attacked Mewl, it didn’t get knocked out in one hit like it was meant to. Instead, it stayed in the field.

While I wanted to question it at the time, I just used a Hyper Potion on my Charizard to get it back to full.

”Enemy WEEZING used SMOG!” 

“MEWL ENDURED the hit!”

 Sure enough, I wasn’t dreaming. Mewl was somehow surviving all of Koga’s attacks. Normally that would be pretty cool, except for the fact that Mewl was level 7 and therefore effectively worthless in this fight.

I had to wait for it to faint to switch to Charizard, but Mewl kept surviving every hit that was thrown at it.

”Enemy WEEZING used TOXIC!”

“MEWL”s hurt by poison!”

“MEWL fainted!”

Thankfully, it eventually became poisoned and went down, so I could send in Charizard to finish the job.

I made quick work of Koga and his Weezing after that and made my way out of the Gym.

But weirdly, as I was leaving, I couldn’t help but notice the screen flashing as if a Pokémon in my party was still poisoned.

I checked my party again to see what was up.

It seemed like Mew had a custom sprite for being knocked out that I never noticed before. I didn't even know if that was a thing.

But it was definitely knocked out, for sure, so I brushed it off as some sort of bug.

I figured if anything would fix the poison glitch, it’d be healing at the Pokémon Center.

”If you drive your POKéMON too hard, they’ll dislike you.”  

”Please take better care of your POKéMON.” 

 I was confused at this text. Was this dialogue hidden for players like me who let their Pokémon faint over and over? Whatever it is, I have never seen it before.

”We hope to see you again!” 

The nurse went back to her chipper disposition afterwards though, so I figured I should just be on my merry way as well.

I checked up on Mewl to see how it was doing now.

It seemed like the nurse just haphazardly patched it up. Mewl’s expression still looked tense, but I hoped that didn’t mean it wouldn’t use its new HM moves.

I made a quick note to take down Giovanni at Silph Co. and Sabrina. My Charizard was actually getting a bit over-leveled, so I swept through without needing to use Mewl to heal during battles at all.

I decided that on my way to Blaine, I would fall back on my training a bit.

I back-tracked over to Fuchsia City since it was faster than going all the way back to Pallet Town.

I made my way down by the Fuchsia coast and hoped quietly that Mewl would let me Surf to Cinnabar.

Thankfully it seemed like the 1’4 cat was perfectly fine with me riding on its back, with no defiance at all. I felt confident, like I was finally getting enough gym badges to make it obey.

I'd even gotten it to listen when I needed it to use Strength in the Seafoam Islands. Things were really looking up.

I’d finally hit land and was ready to storm the Cinnabar Mansion and claim Blaine’s badge.

I was feeling pretty confident with my Charizard’s HP and level that I wanted to take on the Gym without healing at the Pokémon Center.

I had plenty of Potions and Revives in case of emergency, anyway.

All of the quiz questions were normal, except... This bizarre one. 

“You treat all your POKéMON fairly?”

Though it had been several years since I played this game, something felt off about it, like it wasn’t supposed to be there.

I half-heartedly answered yes, despite knowing it was untrue. My logic was, at the very least, that even though I as a player didn’t care about these Pokémon, maybe Red did.

”Sorry! Bad call!”

The buzzer went off and I was harassed by a trainer. I was appalled... Was the game really criticizing me as a player?

Had I hit some sort of secret flag after making Mewl faint so much? I couldn't understand what was happening.

I didn’t give myself much time to think about it though, so I healed up my Charizard with some Potions and took on Blaine.

Charizard had fainted again, so I left it up to Mewl.

I healed up my Charizard and expected Mewl to hang on like before, but it just went down with no resistance.

With my seventh gym badge in hand, I was pretty happy with my run so far. A couple more hours in and I’d be done, I thought.

I was ready to Surf north towards Pallet Town and claim my eighth and final badge.

“MEWL ignored orders!”

But I received a friendly reminder.

I had forgotten that Mewl didn’t like using HMs without being healed. I really didn’t feel like taking it to the Pokémon Center though, so I just carelessly threw a Revive at it.

Hoping that the Revive would be good enough to satisfy it and let me ride on it again, I mashed through text a few times to see if I could brute-force it to listen.

”MEWL won’t obey!”

”MEWL turned away!”

It kept bombarding me with the same defiant messages over and over, until...

“MEWL hates you.”

I was caught off-guard. This text didn’t have the same energy as the others, lacking an exclamation point. It sounded like flat, cold, genuine hatred.

I pressed A again, and attempted to order another Surf. Not necessarily because I wanted it to Surf now, but more out of a morbid fascination with such intense text.

“MEWL used instead, FLASH!”

Suddenly, like in a battle, the screen lit up totally white.

I was booted out of the party screen afterwards, and immediately noticed a distinct lack of an items menu. Had Mewl taken it from me?

Closing out of the menu, I spoke to the Pokémon now standing next to me, knowing exactly who it was supposed to be.

”Mew!”

Mew’s cry played. I already knew it.

“MEWL hacked away with CUT!”

I flinched, horrified at the thought of Mewl directly attacking my trainer.

”HM01 was destroyed!”

But then I realized, it wasn't that...

”HM03 was destroyed!” 

 Instead, Mewl had stolen my items...

”HM04 was destroyed!” 

 … And was proceeding to destroy each of my HMs, one by one.

”HM05 was destroyed!” 

 After destroying HM05, Mewl’s sprite disappeared; presumably back into its PokéBall.

I was exasperated, but quick on my wits.

I still had Fuchsia City's Pokémon Center as my last saved location, meaning I could use Abra to Teleport back to the mainland.

I was smug, thinking I'd found a loophole around Mewl's attempts to sabotage me.

”ABRA used TELEPORT!”

“ABRA ran away!”

I panicked, to say the least. I frantically scrolled around my party page. How could Abra have disappeared like that? I wasn't going to accept Mewl being my only ride back to Pallet, it was impossible.

I desperately went to the PC inside the Pokémon Center, in some vain hope that maybe Abra had just been sent there somehow.

”MEWL used STRENGTH.”

“The PC was destroyed!”

I couldn't believe it.

Mewl had gone full rogue.

I suddenly had to come to grips with the horrifying realization...

I was trapped in Cinnabar with no way off.

I went through what I can only describe as the five stages of grief.

Stage 1 - Denial

I scoured the internet for any other Pokémon in Cinnabar Mansion that I could use to escape the island.

I quickly remembered that Mewl had already destroyed my HMs and stolen my items, and realized I couldn’t catch anything.

But I did have one more plan.

If I could knock out Charizard and Mewl, I could be sent back to Fuchsia. It would take a bit of work for Charizard to eventually faint, but I was prepared to try anything.

”CHARIZARD ran away!”

But I couldn’t be prepared for my Charizard running away.

I was so shocked that I didn’t even want to send in Mewl, I just said no and fled the battle.

I fell into absolute despair. Mewl had not only ruined my chance of getting off the island, but now, even if I did, what would I do without the only Pokémon I’d been raising?

Stage 2 - Anger

I’d never thought malicious thoughts about this Mew before, just casual indifference and sometimes mild frustration. But I can’t say that I didn’t want some payback towards this Mew for wasting several perfectly good hours of my life.

I sadistically thought about how I would make it faint, and then how I would torture it over, and over, making it repeatedly faint until maybe it would measure up to Charizard’s strength.

“MEWL ENDURED the hit!” 

I couldn't stop myself from shouting "NO."

Despite Mewl’s apparent injuries, it hung on with one HP.

Again, and again, no matter what I did. No matter what Pokémon I faced.

It seemed like nothing could poison it, burn it, kill it.

Then, it dawned on me…

Maybe this was what Mewl wanted all along?

Stage 3 - Bargaining

Mewl’s stubbornness and special ability that made it unable to faint...

It took Mewl a long time to faint its first real opponent, due to its low level, but in the end, it grew.

I checked Mewl’s summary for some sort of sign, anything at all, that this was what I was supposed to be doing. It stared at me with its vacant, unreadable expression...

Perhaps it was shocked I had battled with it? Whatever the case, it wasn’t staring at me with hostility anymore...

So it was silently agreed between us, then. Mewl and I, we did our first ever grinding session.

It took a few hours, but Mewl’s level was growing steadily. Things seemed to be going well, until...

We ran into our first wild Ditto.

I thought it was strange, having not found a Ditto for all this time I'd spent in Cinnabar Mansion, but I didn’t see any trouble with fighting it, so I just let the battle progress.

Stage 4 - Depression

The Ditto transformed into Mewl, who appeared to have a sad expression on its face.

I quickly pulled out of the battle screen and into my party to see if something had changed with Mewl.

I checked to see Mewl, who had that same sad expression as the Ditto. Its status had changed from "OK" to a worrying "...".

I knew something was wrong, so I fled from that battle and every battle afterwards.

Though I had avoided it before on hopes of somehow escaping to Fuchsia City, I gave it all up to heal Mewl, who had risked life and limb to impress me.

After it was healed, I checked its summary again.

Though it had fully healed, it still had that depressed look in its eyes. I couldn’t understand want it wanted. I didn’t know what it needed.

But I realized that it was getting pretty late, and I wanted to get to sleep soon. I would have to leave the game on, and leave Mewl behind.

That was when it hit me.

Could it be possible that Mewl knew I hadn’t saved? Did Mewl somehow understand that no matter if I saved or didn’t save, it would disappear when I turned the game off?

I hadn’t really thought about it until now, but Mewl was more special than any other Pokémon I’d ever played with.

And if I turned the game off, it would disappear forever.

I didn’t know how to feel about that.

I went out of the Pokémon Center to reflect about this with Mewl.

I still wanted to finish the adventure with it, if it would let me.

Stage 5 - Acceptance

“MEWL doesn’t want to go.”

That was okay, I thought.

I realized that even if I went with Mewl to the Pokémon League, and won, then the game would return to the title screen and not save my progress.

Maybe Mewl understood that, too.

So then we were at an impasse, together on Cinnabar Island.

I didn’t know what to do. Even if this Mew was special, even if I genuinely believed it was real, I couldn’t just keep my GameBoy on forever. What would anyone else think?

I decided that for the first time in this entire run, I wanted to save my game. I didn't want to turn it off just yet, but at least save, as some sort of precautionary measure.

I hoped, that in the event the GameBoy turned off for whatever reason, a miracle would occur.

”Would you like to SAVE your MEW?”

It seemed that the game knew exactly what my heart wanted, and I selected yes.

Then, all of a sudden, my game turned off. Not due to low battery or anything, but it just turned off.

I panicked for a moment, and quickly switched the game back on.

It was gone. The save file was gone.

Or, rather, it was never there to begin with.

[forthekags]

Number Nine

Kageyama Tobio X FemReader

Part 1

About: You were introduced to the Karasuno Boys’ Volleyball club during your second year. Yachi needed help after Kiyoko had taken her leave, so she asked you to join her. Although, it would have been smarter to look for a first year, but you were new and looked lonely. When you met the boys you were bit overwhelmed but they grew on you in no time. Kageyama was a little rough around the edges at first, he was awkward and couldn’t hold eye-contact. He was a blushing baboon for the first few days. He was sure to keep his distance but you only found it exciting and hilarious. Sure enough you two became friends from all your taunting and teasing. You’re about to enter your third year, and this was your make it or break it. You had to start thinking about your own future- and so did Kageyama. 

The First Drop

You looked at the clouds and watched as they glided through the sky. The weatherman said it was supposed to rain later this afternoon, so you tried looking for that one cloud that hinted towards that. You were so busy looking at them you nearly tripped over a step if it wasn’t for Kageyama grabbing onto you.

“Your head is literally stuck in the clouds, Y/N.” You rolled your eyes when he tilted your head to look at him. “You’re going to fall and hurt yourself.”

You grabbed onto his sleeve and proceeded to look up again, “I won’t fall because you’ll be there to prevent it, simple.” You were so confident when you said it, it made his cheeks turn a shade of pink.

“I should let you fall so you can learn your lesson,” he pushed his glasses up his nose. He had started using them every now and then because of his sucky eyesight, all those late nights watching videos finally catching up to him. You glanced to your side watching him- he was staring straight ahead with a small pout and the same shade of pink on his cheeks. He was pretty.

He didn’t tug away from your hold, he never does now. He let you watch the clouds and was your guide through the tricky streets and potholes. You were walking to your house so you can set up your notes and help Kageyama with some homework. It became a routine last year when you learned he failed another test even though Yachi was helping both of the dummies during her lunchtime. When he showed up at your desk during lunchtime, he was ushered away by some classmates. You sleep during your lunch, and you are not to be disturbed. He remembers how you threw a book to his head when he got fed up. How are you going to give him a whole rant about grades during practice and then not tutor him during lunch!

You eventually set up a study session after practice at your house since it was nearby. Shoyo and Yachi would join you on specific dates (mostly when there was a big test coming up). But Kageyama went every day, even when there was no homework. On those days, he’d watch you read or you’d watch volleyball videos together and geek out over the professionals, which led to talking about his future; how he wanted to become the best. You loved watching his eyes shine as if he could physically see it, right then and there at arms reach.

Your mom thought you two were dating in the beginning. You would start a rant about how that wasn’t the case and how he was too dumb for you and he would say how much of bossy pants you were right to your own mother! (Although, she agreed with him). “Could’ve fooled me,” was her last comment about the subject. She got tired of you two freaking out over any small chance of her bringing it. But she loved having him over, he complimented her cooking every time.

“There it is!” you said excitedly, you pointed at this gray cloud in the distance. You grabbed Tobio’s hand and tugged him towards the cloud that was coming your way. He let out some grunts and apologized to some people you passed by and accidentally shoved. You reached a river rail and he thought he had to hold you down by the way you wanted to keep chasing after it.

“Y/N! It’s coming towards us! No need to run after it!”

You were excited, no- that’s an understatement. Was there a word for what you are?

Beautiful, he thought but quickly cleared from his mind. That’s not really what he was trying to look for. He was never good with synonyms. But you were... good with synonyms that is,  well you are beautiful too- he was just thinking about the other stuff. Anyways! The cloud!

The cloud got closer and you could hear the rain. Tobio got his umbrella out and opened it up, ready for impact. When he tried to cover you with it, you let go of his hand looking at him before you shook your head. Suddenly the absence of your hand was louder than the drops, did he not notice you still holding it? You moved away and waited for the first drop to land on you and he watched you close your eyes and smile blissfully. He gulped when his heart skipped a beat. The rain was cold, he could feel how it lowered the temperature around you two, but you enjoyed it.

“Y/N,” he complained, “you’re going to get sick.”

You opened your eyes and caught his worried ones. All you could do was smile. Rain was blissful weather- it wasn’t a downer like everyone says it is, it’s therapeutic. It’s scary when it rumbles but there’s nothing like its soft drops. They refresh you and let you stop to just feel everything and nothing at once.

This was your limbo, he thought. Your perfect state of mind. He didn’t want to disturb you, so he just watched silently until you turned to him again with an idea dancing in your eyes.

“Dance with me, Tobio.”

“Wha- what! Hell no! I’m not going to join you in your sickness!” He staggered, “I don’t even know how to dance.”

“Please Tobio, one dance and we can go home and get changed so you won’t get sick.” Your eyes pleaded and he wavered instantly. He usually wins in debates, but when it was something you really wanted... how can he say no?

“Fine! But just one and we go okay?” He put his umbrella away and let the rain drench him as it had to you. You smiled at him and jumped with happiness.

“That’s exactly what I said!”

He put his hand on your waist and the other out for you to grab. You jumped into position and stepped closer to him making him go red and look away from you. You didn’t have to look at him, but you did and you enjoyed every second of it. There was no music, and it surprised you that he didn’t try to use that as an excuse, but you swayed with him. His hair was now wet and dripping drops onto your nose and it made you smile again.

Kageyama was smooth on his feet, which must be a perk from being an athlete, but you always saw him as only-on-the-court type of smooth and a clutz everywhere else. But he guided you swiftly, twirled you every now and then just to bring you right back to him. You laughed and he smiled whenever he did it. As it was coming to a halt, you rested your head on his chest and he hugged onto you. Can he just stay here? Holding onto you and you to him.

“Y/N…” he said softly breaking the trance. Of course not.

You stepped away and gave him a sad smile. “Alright, let’s go princess.” You grabbed your stuff from the floor and picked up the umbrella that he had. Kageyama didn’t move from his spot, instead, he took a deep breath and held it as you covered both of you under the umbrella. You were going to say something witty but the intensity in his eyes stopped you. “Kags?”

"Sorry… I just… uh- nevermind."

He grabbed the umbrella from your hand and set it up a bit higher. You offered a comforting smile instead of pressuring him to tell you, and he silently thanked you. As much as you loved to taunt him, you never wanted to tease him about his struggle to express himself. You'll go all day talking about his grades and clumsiness or when he messes up a serve during practice. But not this.

You and Kags walked back to the route of your house, your ETA increasing after your little detour. There was an annoying silence settling in, so you decided to compliment him.

"I didn't know you could dance, Tobio." You looked over and saw that pink shade go a little darker over his cheeks. He didn't reply so you pressed on, "Once you get a girlfriend, you have to treat her to a good dance."

You were gleaming and being supportive again. That comforting smile was stitched onto your face permanently it seems, but he didn't mind. What did bother him though was this talk about a girlfriend.

"That's ridiculous," he mumbled under his breath. You didn't catch it entirely, but it wasn't something you didn't expect from him.

You stared ahead and thought about the previous year. Kageyama had a small little fan club of admirers from a variety of students, according to Yachi, it had picked up even more during their second year. Some would give him notes during lovely holidays, hell- you'd eat his gifted chocolates with him during those days. Some of them really knew how to pick the right sweets… But you've never seen him gift one of them back. Sometimes, you wondered what would happen if you… if you would bring him sweets with a heart sketched onto a note. What would he do?

"Hey, Kags? Why don’t you date?” You didn’t mean to bring it up or maybe you did… But you didn’t want to know the answer. No matter what it was.

He shuffled a bit uncomfortable thinking it was another joke or something for you to tease him about. However, when he glanced down at you to tell you to mind your own business, he saw a rare blush. He can count on one hand the times he’s seen that blush, each memorable in their own way. His favorite was when he caught you staring while he took his shirt off in the gym and right when he was about to tease you, you denied such action and said you were daydreaming about some fantasy world.

So, he thought about it. Genuinely trying to come up with an answer. What does dating even look like? It must take up some time… He was never the best at time management, and if he’s already thinking about that it would feel like just another chore. That wouldn’t be fair to either of them.

“I don’t think it’s possible for me to date,” he explained, “with volleyball and practice and stuff, it’ll just be a waste...”

Oh, you thought. That is the most logical answer he could give. But you felt… you felt like that wasn’t fair. Was volleyball really going to take up all his time?

Yes, it is! He lives for the sport. It’s his everything, that’s the very same thing you love about him- admire- admire about him. So… would you be hurt if he had to cut you out, too? Are you going to just be waiting for him to leave you behind whenever his volleyball career gets more serious? You’re already taking up most of his time. Like now. The last thing you want to do is hold him back.

While you struggled with your thoughts, you were quiet and sulking outside. Kags noticed it right away.

“Are you okay?”

You snapped back to reality and gave a forced smile. “Yeah, of course.” He caught on pretty quick but instead of thinking you were bothered by it, he thought you were petty because of his answer.

“Were you planning on asking me out?” He raised his eyebrow and teased you.

You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms over your chest. That serious sad gleam in your eye was disappearing along with it.

“You wish, simpleton.”

You teased each other along the way, your anxieties dying down for the rest of the evening, and it was all normal for a bit. Until he left for the day, and as you watched him walk away you got that lonely feeling again.

[mrsalwayswrite]

To Call Forth Love- Chapter 8

Guys, I’m so sorry this chapter has taken me so long to get out. My family was sick for awhile (nasty stomach bug) so i barely had any time to write, and then this chapter took me forever to edit. Plus this chapter just kept getting longer and longer…oops?

Also, writing sexual tension is my jam but writing actually smut terrifies me. There is a bit of mild smut in here (spoiler) so feedback is always appreciated!

Lastly, a huge thank you to everyone specifically who has commented! I cannot tell you how much your encouragement means to me!

Warnings: mild smut, swearing, Ivar being Ivar, fluff

Words: 12,000 (omg, what??? why didn’t someone stop me?)

Tag List: @youbloodymadgenius​ @heavenly1927​ @zuxiezendler​ @punkrocknpearls​ @love-all-things-writing​ @southernbe​

Series Masterlist

Kari blearily reached over to turn off the alarm on her phone. It blared from the small table she used as a nightstand. Though she considered herself a morning person, there was something about waking to an alarm, forcing you to jolt to wakefulness, that was never easy to do. Laying on her back, she rubbed a hand down her face, eyes still closed. At least she was not opening the studio this morning. Sasha was back so most of the openings did not fall on Kari anymore. She would never tell her boss but those two weeks were rough. 

 "Fuck. What time is it?"

 Immediately, her eyes flew open. In the next second, she shrieked and thrashed in the bed, not expecting a deep, gravelly voice coming from her bed. Why was someone in her bed? She definitely went to be alone last night. She always went to be alone. Panic surged through her as she spun around to put space between herself and her unexpected companion. Although the rapid movement, and still only being half awake, caused her to almost fall off the side of her bed. She just managed to catch herself, leaving her half sitting, half crouched like some gargoyle at the end of her full-size bed, clutching the pale lavender comforter and white sheet gathered precariously around her. 

 "What the fuck was that for?" Her visitor growled as he laid on his back, an arm thrown over his face. 

 "Ivar?" Her panic was slowly abating as she realized it was not some stranger in her bed. Though her mind still felt muddled as to how he ended up here.  "What…. what are you doing in my bed?"

 "I told you last night. Fuck. Did you forget already?"

 "I…. I thought I dreamt that."

 That got his attention. His arm moved to his side so he could stare at her with those intense blue eyes and a naughty smirk on his lips. "Do you dream of me often?"

 She ignored his question, thinking back to the conversation they had during the night. Even though it was hazy and felt more like a dream than any real conversation. Then it hit her. She was not wearing a bra. 

 "Oh my gods, don't look!" Without hesitation, she rolled off the bed and dashed to her closet.

 "What?" 

 "Don't look!! Ivar, please!"

 "Why? Fuck. Stop shouting too."

 "Because...because I don't have a bra on!"

 He chuckled, folding his arms behind his head to shamelessly watch her. "Mmmm…. I noticed last night."

 "IVAR!!"

 She grabbed a cute sports bra, feeling beyond self-conscious in her gray, cotton sleep shorts and matching thin, cotton t-shirt. Ignoring the man in her bed, she rushed to her attached bathroom. As she quickly donned her leopard print, strappy sports bra, her mind tried to remember last night. All her mind could recall was waking up with him behind her, they talked…. she questioned him…. he said something about missing her and he had a key. That made her groan softly. Why did he have a key? How did he get a key? Looking into the mirror, she quickly fixed her messy hair, throwing it into a quick bun. So many questions swarmed her mind, all dealing with how to best handle this newfound situation she found herself in. Why could things with Ivar never be simple?

 Once ready, well as ready as she was going to be for being startled awake, she stepped out of the bathroom and moved to stand at the end of the bed, hands on her hips. "You have a key."

 Ivar had rolled onto his side, eyes closed. "Can we talk about this later? What fucking time is it? Why are we fucking awake?" He grumbled, not even looking at her. 

 It was now that Kari finally noticed that her bed's current occupant was shirtless. A handsomely toned chest and back were impossible to ignore, making her mouth suddenly feel dry.... and those tattoos.... She rigorously shook her bed, dispelling the distracting thoughts. Now was not the time for ogling. As calmly as possible, she answered Ivar, dropping her gaze to the rumpled sheets. "It's seven and I have to get ready for work."

 "Call in."

 Her head jerked up to stare at him. "What?"

 "Call in to work. Don't go in." He repeated firmly. 

 "Ivar, I can't just do that. I have to be there in two hours."

 He finally shifted and opened his eyes to look at her. It was unfair how handsome he looked lying in her bed with the morning sunlight peeking through the curtains over her window. Now was not the time to think about that. Mentally, she prepared a rebuttal for whatever scathing thing he was going to say, only for it to die dramatically on her tongue. 

 "Whoa, your eyes…." Subconsciously, she took a step closer as if physically drawn to him. Now with the haze of sleep and panic gone from her mind, she was able to fully see how the typical blue seemed to leak into the whites of his eyes. It was disconcerting to say the least. His intense eyes were now even more extreme. 

 "I know." He snapped, turning away from her and rolling back to his side. 

 "No, no, no. You don't get to do that. You already owe me so many answers." She crawled onto the bed and over to him. Although frustrated with him, the way he tried to ignore her and hide his face away made her worried. Gently, she brushed the few loose strands of hair off his cheek. When that did not even get a reaction, she gripped his chin and turned his head. "What's going on?" She asked softly.

 "Nothing." 

 "Ivar, you answer me honestly or I'm going to walk out of this room right now and start getting ready for work."

 In an instant she watched as the pain and fear in his eyes morph into anger. His gaze hardened and his lips pressed together as if sealing in the venom-laced words just waiting to come out. 

 "Ivar? Talk to me." She tried again, but at his furious look, she pulled her hand back. 

 Silently, he rolled over to the side of the bed. She watched as he reached down and began strapping his leg braces on over a pair of black sweatpants. 

 "Ivar?"

 "It doesn't fucking matter."

 "Yes, it does, whatever it is."

 With his braces on, he pushed off the bed, stumbling for a moment before catching himself. His back still turned to her, he hobbled over to where his t-shirt, shoes and cane were. 

 "Please…." Tears welled up in her eyes. It was stupid to be getting so emotional over this. But never before had he shut her out like this. She hated how much it hurt. And it shouldn't hurt this much. Since the beginning she reminded herself frequently she needed space from him. But now that he was pushing her away, giving her that space…. she hated it. She wanted him back, teasing and smiling. "Did I do something wrong?"

 "Fuck. Fine!" He spun around, shirt in his hands and flames in his frenzied gaze. "Every few months, my eyes look like this, and it means I'm more likely to break a bone. It happened more often when I was a child. Now I know to just lay around in bed otherwise dumb fucking things happen and my shitty bones break. There. Fucking happy now?"

 "Thank you for telling me. And I'm sure you've heard this a million times, but I'm sorry."

 At her apology, he yelled and threw his shirt across the room. The shirt slammed into her closed bedroom door. "Fuck your pity! I don't fucking want it!" 

 The echoes of his shout hung in the air. He stood there with fists clenched and chest heaving, glaring daggers at her. A tendril of fear snaked itself up her spine. A brief memory of Hvitserk warning her came to mind and she wondered if this was what he meant. She remained frozen, sitting on her bed, concerned if she moved it would set him off. 

 After an excruciatingly long minute, Ivar closed his eyes and roughly ran his hand through his loose hair. 

 "Ivar, why did you come here last night? Why not go home?" She quietly asked, twisting and untwisting the sheet around her hands. 

 "Seems I made a mistake." He scoffed, staring towards the window. "I'll leave so you get on with your day."

 "Gods, that's not what I'm saying! Ivar, please! I'm just trying to understand. Please just…. just talk to me."

 "It doesn't fucking matter anymore." He snarled. 

 "You said you didn't want to be alone…. last night….at least, I think so." She said hesitantly, more to herself, recalling their conversation, than actually speaking to him. To her surprise, after a moment, he seemed to deflate right before her. His shoulders slumped, head tilted forward to stare at the floor. In the blink of an eye, he changed from a cornered, snarling wolf to looking like a kicked puppy. Cautiously, she crawled off the bed and slowly approached him. The whole time he never moved but neither did he raise his head to acknowledge her. After taking a deep breath, she tenderly cupped his face. Her words were just above a whisper. "Push me away if you want to…. I’m just…. I’m just trying to help. What can I do? Please?"

 After a second, he leaned forward, pressing his forehead to hers and placing his hands on her hips. They stayed there for several seconds, neither saying a word. Though she could almost feel the internal war being waged within him. His thumbs rubbed back and forth on her sleep shorts. Her hands slipped from his face to the back of his neck, one carding through his hair gently as she gave him time to think. 

 Finally, he breathed out. "Stay with me…. please."

 Her heart fractured at the quiet brokenness in his voice, the masked pleading in his tone. How often was he forced to be alone throughout his life, lacking connection and attention that he so desperately wanted.

 "Ok, I'll try and call in. If not, I'll…. we’ll figure something out, alright?"

 He nodded, turning his head to nuzzle her temple. She giggled at the sensation and tried to escape but he only pulled her closer. After a couple more moments of teasing, he allowed her to guide him back to the bed, a smile on both of their faces. He sat down on the bed, forearms on his legs as he watched her. 

 Trying to ignore his focus, which she was positive was not on her face, she grabbed her phone and called the studio. She paced nervously, tugging slightly on her sleep shorts in a vain attempt to cover the amount of her thighs showing, as the phone rang. Thankfully her boss was the one to answer. 

 "Hi, Lydia. Something has come up. Is there any way someone can cover my classes today?"

 "Are you alright?" Her boss asked, immediately going into concerned mom-mode. 

 "Yeah, I'm fine….um, it's, um…." 

 The phone was abruptly snatched from her hand. She spun to see Ivar talking on it, an amused smirk on his face. How he had managed to sneak up behind her unawares, she could not figure out. 

 "Hello, Lydia, yes? You are Kari's boss?" Ivar questioned, taking the couple steps and dropping back onto the bed. "I apologize for inconveniencing you by taking Kari's time. My ride to my doctor's appointment fell through at the last minute, and I have a rare condition which forces me to go get checked often. Kari was kind enough to…. hmmm? Yes."

 There was a long pause from Ivar's speech, clearly listening to whatever her boss was saying. Kari was unsure if she wanted to throw something at Ivar or die from embarrassment. As she started to walk past him, still pacing due to nerves eating at her, Ivar grabbed her arm. Next thing she knew, she was bodily yanked onto the bed. Before she could squirm away, he snatched her feet, forcing them into his lap. Pressing the phone against his ear with his shoulder, he began to massage the bottom of her feet. She should be mad at him, she really should but suddenly she felt relaxed and blissed out. His touch was the perfect amount of rough and gentle, kneading and rubbing like it was his profession. A moan accidentally escaped her and she covered her face with her hands, barely hearing the chuckle come from him. 

 He finally spoke into the phone again. "I understand. Yes, I promise…. that sounds like her. Yeah, I plan on changing that soon…. bye."

 He set her phone down on the bed, and continued his ministrations, never ceasing his relaxing touch. 

 "What, ah, what did she say?"

 "She said you've never taken a day off or had a sick day, so you are overdue for one. She hopes I feel better and that you do a good job of taking care of me." He answered then turned his head to look at her with a mixture of shock and bemusement. "You really haven't taken a day off?"

 "I didn't have a reason to."

 "No reason? I don't know, how about to do something fun? Spend time with friends? Day drinking? Watch movies? Not deal with people? Fuck, there are plenty of reasons to skip work."

 "I don't have friends to skip with." She mumbled to herself, her eyes having drifted shut on their own accord. It was a truth she had realized and sort of come to terms with.  

 He must have heard it though. "You do now." He said with something like a promise in his tone. 

 She opened her eyes to look at him, his face turned downward to focus on her feet. Now she was able to really look at his tattoos and his broad, sculpted back. The sweeping lines of ink seemed to emphasize the strength apparent in his muscles. It was truly a masterpiece. Her eyes greedily sketched over his bare skin, wondering what it would feel like under her fingers. 

 "Like what you see?" 

 A blush warmed her cheeks at having been caught staring. "They're beautiful. What are they?"

 "The tattoos? Mostly Nordic tribal designs, some are specifics from the Sagas."

 Curiosity burning, she pushed herself up, almost leaning against him with her chest barely touching his shoulder. With one finger, she started tracing one of the designs which began on his back and moved over his shoulder to end on his chest. "Did they hurt?"

 He scoffed, head slightly tilted to watch her. "I've been in pain most of my fucking life. This was nothing."

 They sat in silence for several minutes, him still rubbing her feet and her tracing his back and shoulder. It felt strangely domestic and intimate, but more importantly, it seemed natural for them to be in this position, relaxed and at ease with one another. 

 "What do you want to do today?" She asked in a hushed tone, peering up at him. 

 With a wicked smirk, he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. 

 "No! Not that!" She swatted his arm lightly, yet she could not help but laugh as he pouted adorably. "What do you normally do on these days?"

 That quieted him. His body tensed slightly under her and he pointedly returned his gaze to her feet. She switched from tracing his tattoos to just running her hand up and down his bare back soothingly. 

 After a couple of seconds, he answered, his voice resigned and frustrated. "Movies, TV shows, video games, reading. Anything that will keep me in bed and resting. Sometimes my mother or Floki will come play chess with me."

 "But you're usually alone?"

 His lack of response was telling enough.  

 "Well on the days I don't work, I always lay around in bed for as long as possible then make a full English breakfast. Should we start with that?" She proposed, hoping that would cheer him up. Honestly, she had no idea what to do for him today, but feeding him seemed like a good start. Besides, her stomach was beginning to rumble. 

 "Yes, but first…." In an instant, he wrapped his arms around her and tackled her to the bed. She shrieked as her back suddenly hit the bed again which promptly turned into giggles at the silliness of it. A sharp inhale escaped him, silencing her. She watched a pained expression swiftly cross over his face before it vanished, only the lingering hints of pain in his eyes. After a moment, he shifted them so they laid facing one another. 

 Feeling bold, she touched his cheekbone, gazing into his vivid blue eyes. "I don't know why, but your eyes like this remind me of a crystal ball. Think you can see my future?" She teased.  

 His hand landed on her hip once again as he grinned. "I can. Want to know what I see?"

 "Mmmm?"

 "You’re going to kiss me."

 She giggled. "I do? You sure that's not just your imagination?"

 "I am no mere mortal. These eyes prove my divinity and with that I can see into the future." He leaned closer, his breath fanning across her mouth tantalizingly. "And I see you, with those pretty pink lips, kissing me right now."

 Her breath hitched in her throat at his close proximity and the way her mind easily recalled what kissing him felt like. "And what would happen if I do?"

 "You'll have to find out. I can't give away everything about the future…. unless you choose to worship me as your god. I can make you my favored priestess and bestow favors on you."

 "Favored priestess?"

 "It's a highly coveted job." 

 "I'm sure it is." She deadpanned but unable to keep the amusement from her voice. Overly aware of her actions, she ran a hand down his chest, feeling the muscles twitch under her palm. 

 The increasingly blurry line between friendship and something more screamed at her. Even just the way they were laying on her bed, the memories from her upbringing reprimanded her actions. Her grandmother telling her chastity was a virtue and to not let a man touch her. How God would frown upon anything remotely sexual outside of marriage. Yet her lips tingled at the memory of his kisses. She could not deny to herself how much she enjoyed them. How sometimes she found herself fantasizing about kissing him and letting him pleasure her again. Which was wrong. They were just friends. Even if the alluring draw to him was irrefutable. A single kiss would not hurt though. Maybe that would be enough to satisfy the heat currently curling in her belly. Hopefully. 

 "One kiss." She murmured, nervous excitement heating her blood. 

 Immediately, he leaned closer, his lips just skimming over hers teasingly. Gently, he tugged on her bottom lip with his teeth, drawing a needy whine from her. His hand on her hip tightened as he released her lip, only to press a lazy kiss to her mouth that spoke of contentment and familiarity. Their mouths moved languidly, lips barely parting as if they had all morning to just enjoy the feeling and taste of one another. All too soon, in her opinion, yet not soon enough for now she desired more, he pulled back but just enough to brush the end of his nose against hers. 

 "I told you, you'd kiss me." He playfully said. 

 "You're unbelievable."

 "I am your god now. You can't speak to me that way."

 "Uh huh." She rolled her eyes, then gently pushed on his chest. Following her movement, he allowed himself to be pushed onto his back with a smug look the whole time. "Come on, your priestess is making us breakfast before our stomachs rumble anymore."

 "I like this. I could easily get used to this arrangement."

 "Sure. You alright going down the stairs?"

 "I'm not that incapacitated." He snarked, a flash of anger passing through his gaze. 

 She chose to ignore that. "Alright, I'll meet you down there."

 Slipping off the bed, she headed downstairs to the kitchen. Thankfully her roommate was not at home this morning, otherwise she was baffled how she would explain Ivar's presence to Alana. Soon she needed to figure out what to do in regards to that. Ivar clearly had no intentions of leaving her alone. Plus, the more time she spent with the youngest Lothbrok, the more she found herself becoming distraught at the idea of him no longer in her life. This morning, she chose to ignore that predicament, content with enjoying making breakfast for them. 

 Humming softly to herself, she pulled the necessary items out for their breakfast. Soon bacon lay on the cast iron pan, the first hints of sizzling filling the air. Eggs and sausage waited for their turn next. The sounds of the coffee pot percolating made her smile as she danced around the kitchen. Distantly the sounds of Ivar moving around upstairs could be heard. 

 A sudden knock on her door caused her to freeze as she pulled some bread out for toast. Her mind scrambled to try and think of why someone would be at her door this early. Then she remembered. 

 "Shit! Erik!"

 Racing as if on fire, she turned the stove off and hurried to the front door. Yanking the door open, she was met with the sight of Erik standing there in his business casual trousers and a button-down long sleeve shirt. 

 "Erik, hi. I'm so sorry." She gasped out, holding the door open. 

 His green eyes swept over her body rapidly before meeting hers. "Um," he cleared his throat, "I thought you wanted a ride today?"

 "I do, sorry, did. Ah, something came up. I'm so sorry, I should have text you."

 "Ok, is your phone off? I texted you about fifteen minutes ago."

 She lied, tugging on her ear nervously. "Yeah, I forgot to charge it overnight. I'm so sorry for making you wait around for me. It's my fault you'll be late to work."

 He shrugged, rocking back on his heels, a small smile on his face. "It's fine. My boss is lenient as long as we get our work done and don't miss any appointments."

 "Oh good." She smiled in return; happy he would not get reprimanded because of her. He already did so much to help her out. As they spoke, it did not go unnoticed how his eyes continuously drifted down to the large amount of skin exposed by her sleep shorts. Self-conscious, she spoke again, hoping to distract from her body, even as his clear interest made a blush rise to her cheeks. "Is there something I can do to make this up to you?"

 "I still haven't thought of how you can pay me back for gas money."

 She chuckled at his shy look as he confessed. "We can put this on my tab too. Maybe I'll make you dinner or something?"

 Erik opened his mouth to respond when a shout caused his mouth to snap shut. 

 "KARI!"

 Closing her eyes for a moment, Kari silently prayed to whoever was listening for patience to deal with what she knew was about to occur. 

 The tapping of his cane and loud footfalls were enough for her to know Ivar was approaching. She turned to look at him and immediately wanted to smack her forehead against the doorframe. Of course, he had decided to forgo his shirt. 

 "Who the fuck is this?" He growled low once he was close, the predatory look in his eyes undeniable. In this moment he resembled a snake ready to strike without hesitation, more than someone who was in chronic pain. Standing there next to her, only wearing sweatpants and the braces over his legs, he was the one who seemed more runway ready than Erik in his business casual outfit. 

 "Ah, hi, I'm Erik Redsen." He said skeptically, eyeing the dark-haired man like he was unsure if he needed to grab Kari and make a run for it or talk to him about taxes. "I live next door. I was supposed to give Kari a ride to work this morning."

 "Well, she won't be needing one anymore." Ivar snapped harshly. 

 "I can see that….and you are?"

 "Ivar. Ivar Lothbrok." 

 Erik's eyes widened comically as he scanned Ivar with new eyes. "Right. Are you two…. friends?"

 Before Kari could explain, Ivar beat her to answering. He shifted behind her, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her flush against him. "You could say that. We have a very…. satisfying relationship. Don't you agree, kitten?" 

 At this point, Kari was positive her face most likely resembled a tomato. She tried to push his arm off her, but he only tightened it in response. "Ivar." She hissed. 

 "Mmmm? I'll wait for you in the kitchen. You did promise me breakfast after such a vigorous morning." He planted a hot, open-mouth kiss on her neck before he looked up at Erik with a disarming smirk. "I'm sure we'll see each other again; I plan on being here more often."

 "Ah, sure. Nice to meet you." Although Erik sounded anything but pleased as he stuck his hands in his pockets. 

 Leaning heavily on his cane, Ivar slowly walked towards the kitchen area; though it did nothing to negate the aura of danger surrounding him. 

 Once he disappeared from view, she let out a sigh before turning back to Erik. "He's just a friend. It's complicated. We don't….um, yeah. He's a friend." She tried to smooth over but even to her ears it sounded weak. 

 "It's alright. Um, I need to get going. I'll…. I’ll see you around."

 "Ok. Hey, think you're free to shop this week?"

 He smiled shyly, walking backwards down the short driveway. "I'll check my schedule and text you." 

 "Thanks. Bye, Erik!"

 She closed the door after he saluted her, making sure to lock it. Taking a deep breath, she mentally girded herself for the inquisition that was about to happen once she entered the kitchen. She had to stick to her guns in this. It was OK for her to have other guy friends, there was no rule that said Ivar had to be the only one. Besides, she had known Erik longer anyway, so he would have priority. She doubted Ivar would appreciate that sentiment though. 

 In the pause before returning to the kitchen, she also tried to use that time to douse her libido. She was upset with Ivar for the clearly possessive action towards her; while simultaneously, between the tight hold against firm body and that salacious kiss, arousal coursed through her body. It was infuriating how her body reacted to even the simplest touch from him. If he knew how much she was puddy in his hands….

 Once she felt in control of herself again, she headed towards the kitchen. Ignoring what just occurred seemed to be the best way of handling that awkward interaction. Erik was her friend and that was none of Ivar's business. 

 The dark-haired Lothbrok sat on a bar stool, leaning on the island that faced into the kitchen. Though his face remained impassive, his gaze was hard as stone, silently demanding her to explain. 

 Wordlessly, she returned to preparing their breakfast. Turning the stove on again, the bacon started to sizzle. Thankfully, the coffee had finished brewing so she poured herself and her brooding companion a mug each. A little milk and sugar went into hers, and she made sure to leave them in reach so Ivar could fix his own coffee. 

 Attempting to ignore the obvious tension swallowing the air in the small kitchen, she focused on making their food. Sausages were cooked, along with eggs, toast and tomatoes. She would have loved some black pudding but her roommate refused to let her keep some in the fridge, so Kari was forced to stop buying it. As she silently moved about the tiny kitchen, her mind worked on cataloging what she had potentially for them to eat for lunch and dinner. Which did not consist of much. She could try and make something but cooking was not her forte. Ordering out seemed the best idea. Although she did have popcorn so they were set for watching movies. 

 Suddenly Ivar's smug tone broke through her thoughts. "Erik Michael Redsen. Twenty-eight years old. Works as a personal banker downtown. Went to school for art history. Well that was fucking stupid."

 "Gods, Ivar!" She turned on him, horrified. "Did you just do a background check on him?" 

 "How much do you really fucking know about this guy?" He demanded with a threatening undertone. 

 She sighed, trying to decipher if he was coming from a place of possessiveness or actual concern for her safety. With him, it could go either way. Returning her attention to making their breakfast, she put the salt and pepper away as she answered. "Honestly, not much. We don't really hang out. We carpool to the grocery store and sometimes he gives me rides to work so I don't have to take the bus. That's it."

 "Take the bus." He mouthed as if it was a foreign concept. He then slammed his hand on the countertop, making her jump at the unexpected noise. “Hell no, you aren't riding no fucking bus. I'll have my driver take you to work."

 "No."

 "No? No, what?"

 "I'm not using your driver."

 "Fine. I'll buy you a car!"

 "No! I can't…." She turned to really look at him, pushing her ego aside to be transparent. "I can't afford a car right now. We also don't have space for me to have one here. Besides, I don't mind taking the bus."

 "I'll pay for everything with your car."

 "Ivar, you're not listening! I don't want one! Thank you for offering but I'm OK. I like riding with you in your car but I don't need my own right now. I wouldn't have anywhere to park it anyway."

 He tilted his head to the side, looking at her with a peculiar expression. 

 "What?" She sharply said. 

 "You don't…." He stopped himself, rubbing a hand over his mouth, as if choosing his words carefully, before continuing. "You really don't care about my money, do you?"

 "No, why should I?" She chuckled, putting their food on the two ceramic plates she pulled out. "Honestly, it's kind of intimidating."

 He barked a laugh, as he seemed to stare off into space. 

 A flashback hit her to her conversation with Gyda a couple days ago. She peeked over at Ivar, wondering what Pandora's box she was accidently going to open with her question. "Your ex?" She asked softly. 

 He tensed for a moment, staring into his coffee mug. For a moment, she thought he would ignore her question or rebuke her for asking. Instead, he silently gave a single nod, not meeting her eyes. 

 How many times was she going to feel her heart break for this man? How many times did he feel used? Abandoned? Unwanted? At what point did the aloof and cruel mask he wore become a permanent fixture to protect his heart?

 Wiping her hands off on a towel, she walked around the counter to come up behind him and wrap her arms around his shoulders. "I promise I don't like you just for your money or name or whatever other stupid thing people have done to you. I like you. For some unexplainable reason, I like you, though you do have the habit of pissing me off."

 "You like me, huh?" He teased, relaxing into her embrace. 

 "Don't let it get to your head. You won't fit through doors anymore."

 He laughed loudly at that. "You sound like Floki."

 After giving him a gentle squeeze, carefully of his fragile state, she walked back around to finish up the last touches of their food. "I kind of want to meet him but I'm also scared, you know?"

 "He's harmless since he doesn't carry around his axe anymore."

 "That's…. what? That's not reassuring."

 He just smiled…. and somehow, she was less comforted than before. 

 She finished up their plates, setting Ivar's in front of him on the island, and placing hers in front of the other bar stool next to him. They both began eating, drawing a pleased grunt of approval from her companion. 

 "I don't trust him."

 "Who?" The brunette covered her mouth, having taken a bite of eggs. The last thing she wanted was to spew food all over Ivar. There was no way he would ever let her forget that. 

 He narrowed his eyes at her as if her question was redundant. "That Erik guy. He wants to fuck you."

 "Well, he isn't going to since I'm not interested in him." He grumbled, but before he could speak up, she cut him off. "You, sir, still owe me an explanation of how you got a key to my townhouse."

 "Hmmm…. Let's say your property management didn't need much…. persuasion….to hand over a spare they kept on hand."

 "I'm not sure if I should be concerned or not."

 He winked at her as he bit into a piece of bacon. 

 Pointing her fork at him, she hoped he understood how crucial this next statement was. "You can't just show up here whenever you want."

 Chewing on a piece of toast, he just stared ahead with a cool expression.

 "Ivar, I'm serious. We're lucky Alana isn't here this morning."

 "I noticed that, where is she?"

 "She has an early day at work today."

 He hummed, digging into his food. 

 She opened her mouth to further press on the importance of her statement but changed her mind and sipped on her coffee. He was already moody enough, if she continued to pester him about this, his mood would only darken. Later, she could reiterate her stance. There was no way he was going to give up the key he had. However much she thought it was weird and unfounded for him to have a key, it was just so…. Ivar to think it necessary. That did not seem a battle worth fighting over. Him just randomly showing up, that was something they needed to set rules on. 

 They finished eating their food and decided to watch a movie next, both keen on the idea of laying around in bed. When Kari reminded him that they would have to use her laptop to watch a movie if they went back upstairs, he grumbled loudly, saying something about fixing that but she paid no mind. After cleaning up, they headed back up to her room. When she went to argue it would be better to watch a movie downstairs on the TV there, she noted how he slowly ascended the stairs, holding onto the handrail with a tight grip, and how he gritted his teeth. Biting her tongue, she kept her comment to herself, instead rushing up the stairs to grab her laptop and set up her bed for his arrival. 

 He made it to her room but instead of coming to the bed right away, he hobbled over to where his shirt lay. She watched, curious, but also admiring his body. A heat curled low in her belly as she watched his muscles tense and the ink dance across his skin. He was truly a beautiful specimen of masculinity. 

 With something in hand, he came over and sat on the edge of the bed. "Here."

 She took it from his outstretched hand, seeing it was the newest iPhone, which wasn't even supposed to be released until that Friday. "How? Wait…. why?"

 He unstrapped his braces, setting them on the ground. "I told you I was getting you a new phone."

 "You didn't have to; my phone is just fine."

 "It's a piece of shit." He grunted as he dragged himself to lean against the wall, in lieu of a headboard. "Besides, this one had better security features. I already programmed some of them and I can show you the rest later. I'll switch your Sim card for you too."

 "Ivar…." She started to argue but was cut off when he snaked an arm around her waist and tugged her against him. 

 "Just say 'thank you, Ivar' and shut up. I want to watch a movie."

 "Thank you, oh gracious, benevolent god." She said in a sickly, sweet voice as she batted her eyelashes at him. 

 "Cheeky." He nipped at her earlobe, causing her to squirm. Pinning her against his side once more, he pressed his mouth to her ear and he whispered in a husky tone. "You can call me that whenever you want."

 A bolt of desire shot through her at his voice and the wicked images it painted in her mind. Her traitorous heart began to beat a rapid tattoo in her chest in excitement. Shifting the laptop in her lap to distract herself from her body's unconscious reactions, she teasingly answered. "I'm sure your brothers would love that."

 "Fuck them. They know I'm better than they are anyway."

 She rolled her eyes at his cocky comment. "What movie are we watching?"

 "None of your shit." He snatched the laptop from her, scanning the streaming service. "I'm buying you a TV for your room next."

 "No, you aren't." She mumbled, as she shifted to lay down. 

 Her bedroom was by no means Spartan but it certainly was on the sparser side. Her bed took up most of the space, the only other furniture was the two small tables, one holding her jewelry box and her plants and the other she used as a nightstand. All of her clothes and shoes she kept in the closet, some hanging and some in plastic drawers. Besides the pile of clean clothes in the laundry basket she needed to fold and put away, but she ignored that. Her beloved books were lined up neatly on the windowsill or a couple stacked on the nightstand. The only decoration she had on her walls was a stick-on wall decal that was the quote 'not all who wander are lost' in a flowy script. Even her suitcases and yoga mat were shoved under her thin metal-frame mattress. 

 There were a couple other knick-knacks around but she had purposefully kept her space simple. Just for the fact if she needed to suddenly pack up and move….it would not be difficult. However depressing of a thought that was. 

 Her eyes fluttered shut as she laid her head on her pillow, listening to Ivar mutter about the lack of good choices. Eventually he picked out some movie she had never heard of before. He stayed reclined against the wall with her laptop in his lap, a pillow against his lower back. From where she laid next to him, Kari could see the screen but found her eyelids staying closed. To the sounds of gunfire, swearing and some man yelling "motherfucker" often, she dozed off. 

 *****

 When she cracked her eyes open, it was to be met with a pair of captivating eyes already staring at her from the pillow next to her.  

 "You know you drool when you sleep?"

 Absent-mindedly she wiped a hand over her mouth and sure enough found the traces of drool there. "Sorry." She said, voice still coated in sleep. "How long was I asleep?"

 Ivar laid on his side facing her, arm tucked under his head and the laptop nowhere in sight. "Almost two hours."

 "Oh, I'm so sorry. I didn't realize how tired I was."

 "I ordered us lunch. It should be here soon."

 "Thanks." 

 They laid there facing one another. From this angle she was able to admire the tattoos across his chest and the Thor's hammer necklace hanging from his neck. Gingerly, she reached over and touched one of the tattoos on his chest, only for it to jump under her finger and make her squeak in surprise. He laughed as she mock-glared at him, then rolled onto his back. When she made no further movement, he snatched her hand and laid it upon his chest, silently giving her permission to continue her exploration. He placed both of his hands behind his head, eyes intent on her the whole time. With that, she shifted closer, to sit up and gaze down at him. Her hand returned its tracing of his decorated skin, admiring the lines of both color and his sculpted body. 

 "I always wanted to get a tattoo." She quietly confessed, watching her hand trace the colored lines on his skin. 

 "Why haven't you?"

 She shrugged. "My mother would've been livid. Plus, I could never fully decide on what I'd get. I want something that…. means something…. not just a cute design."

 "I'll take you if you want."

 "To get a tattoo?"

 "Why not?" He sounded almost offended, but the upward tilt of his lips betrayed his amusement. 

 She giggled. "Ok, when I decide what I want, you can take me."

 He hummed his agreement. Her attention returned back to his magnificent body, dragging her finger from his chest up his shoulder, following one of the tattoo's lines. She wondered what kind of tattoo she would get. Part of the reason she never got one was she did not want to go alone and if Ivar was offering to take her, maybe it was meant for her to get one. Something small, probably. She liked the look of minimalist tattoos. Perhaps on the inside of her wrist or her ankle? The idea made her smile. This could be another step for her to choose her own future, to solidify her own identity. Even it felt strongly rebellious compared to the values of her family. She was forging her own path, without their influence any longer. 

 Ivar abruptly sat up, startling her from her inner musings. In one swift movement, their faces were close enough she could feel his breath on her lips. She sat spellbound, unable to pull away, causing her heart to race. His eyes landed on her lips, eyeing them like a choice morsel to be consumed. His smoldering gaze made her mouth go dry. The tension, the desire, heated the air between them until she wondered if it alone could burn them. 

 That craving she fought so ardently threatened to overwhelm her. The yearning for his touch, for his lips on hers, to show her what only he could give her. Never before had she been so consumed by someone, to desire them so much she struggled to maintain her vow. It was infuriating, the constant battle. Wanting to draw closer, to give in and allow him to sweep her away. Yet her mind screamed at her to pull away, to maintain the status quo, to only allow friendship between them. Even if that line was blurry at best. It was something at least. A line she needed, to protect both of them.

 Forcing herself to pull back, she witnessed a flash of hurt and anger cross his eyes before her gaze dropped to her hand still on his chest. Her breathing felt erratic, matching her heartbeat. They stayed there, caught in a stalemate, neither drawing closer or further away. A dance they subjected themselves to on more than one occasion, each time still as tangible and dangerous as the last.

 Luckily, a loud knock on the front door echoed up the stairs, breaking the spell over them. 

 "I bet that's the food, I'll go…. I’ll get it."

 Wordlessly, he dropped back onto the bed, jaw tensed and eyes made of ice. 

 She quickly retrieved the food from the delivery, surprised to see it was sandwiches, chips and drinks from a local favorite of hers she had mentioned once in passing. She carried the bag and cups upstairs, worried how Ivar's mood would be now. Would the rest of the day be awkward and tense? On numerous occasions, she reminded him they were just friends, even if he seemed to hate that notion….and her heart begged for more. It could not happen. 

 Entering her bedroom, surprise filled her to see him sitting up in the bed, the laptop next to him queued up to Netflix. 

 "What do you want to watch?" He asked casually as if nothing had happened. 

 "Um...have you heard of The Last Kingdom? Some of my coworkers said it's really good." She slipped back into her spot and handed him his drink cup. 

 "It's alright."

 "Would you want to watch it with me?"

 "Sure." He turned to slyly grin at her. "Hopefully you don't fall asleep this time."

 "I'll try my hardest." She quipped. 

 They sat up against the wall, eating the food with the laptop near their knees. What potential strain she worried would exist never occurred. A part of her wondered what that meant while another part chucked it up to Ivar's mood swings. Either way, she was grateful.

 By the second episode, the trash was disposed of and the laptop moved to the side table. Kari lay back against the pillows bunched behind her, half sitting up, half laying down. Ivar had his head on her stomach, an arm slung over her hips, fingers caressing the exposed skin of her thighs. She ran her fingers through his unbound hair mindlessly as she watched the tv show. 

 Eventually his arm over her withdrew, his hand drawing random patterns on the strip of skin exposed between her sleep shorts and shirt. Too absorbed in the show and in a comfortable position, she did not pay much attention to his actions. It did not take long for her core to subconsciously start to clench as his fingers slipped past the waistband of her shorts. She tried to ignore it, figuring he was trying to get a reaction out of her. Even if her attention was now split between the show and his provocative touch. His fingers traced her skin just under the waistband of her shorts. After several minutes where she started to relax, his fingers inched a little lower, toying with the top of her underwear. 

 She knew she should say something, to stop him from touching her but a flood of new sensations prevented her. Never before had anyone touched her like this. Her ex had tried but she refused to let him. Now though, it was as if invisible cords held her down, forcing her compliance. Her body possessed by his simple touch and curious about what he would do next. Her hand stilled in his hair, using it to anchor herself. His hand creeped lower. His fingers lightly grazing her outer folds. Her hips jerked instinctually. His head on her stomach prevented her from moving away. Pressing a soft kiss to her exposed skin, he chuckled lowly. A stirring sensation swirled between legs, something she had only felt one other time. Then with a barely-there touch, his finger traced her womanhood. 

 "Ivar…." She whined, though if it was encouragement or reprimand, it was unclear.

 He lifted his head to look at her as his fingers continued to gentle caress her sex. "Has anyone touched you?"

 She shook her head, mouth suddenly dry and words unable to escape.  

 Staring at her, he slipped a single, thick finger into her sex. 

 Her eyes slammed shut, a gasp falling from her lips at the foreign sensation. Her back arched slightly as her body made to accommodate the pleasurable intrusion. 

 "Look at me, Kari. I want to watch you." He commanded,  

 Her eyes snapped open, meeting his starved gaze. The naked desire in them sent a chill down her spine. Under his gaze, she was paralyzed. Slowly, his finger slid in and out of her. The heat in her belly steadily grew between his actions and his hungry eyes that seemed to feast on her pleasure. 

 After a few passes, he surprised her by sliding in a second thick finger. Her gasp transformed into a moan at the strange feeling of being full. The lewd sounds of his fingers easing in and out of her and her wetness overshadowed the TV show still playing but ignored by both. Her body began to feel hot all over, sweat forming on her skin. Without her conscious permission, her hips started to rock with his fingers, desperate for more friction, chasing a release only he could give her. 

 "That's it, kitten, good girl." He praised. His thumb rubbed a circle over her clit, making her body try to shoot off the bed at the sensation though he held her down easily. Whimpers slipped from her lips. Completely pliant under his touch, she made no attempt to escape. The fire coursing through her veins deterred her, the need for more overshadowed her own fears. 

 Still gazing at her hungrily, he leaned forward and licked her breast over her t-shirt. Her breath stuttered, chest heaving at the jolt of electricity that scorched her. It was all becoming too much and yet not enough. Her hips ground against his hand unashamedly. Lips parted as she panted for air. His hand played her like an instrument, bringing her closer and closer to the edge. This time when he licked her breast with one long swipe, he rubbed her clit at the same time. The sensation was devastating, pushing her over the edge. With a cry of his name, a wave of pleasure overwhelmed her. His fingers continued to pump into her, helping her ride out her orgasm. 

 Finally she laid there, unable to move, unable to even think. Her chest rose and fell rapidly as her lungs fought for air. He chuckled at her, making her flush even more. Agonizingly slow, he dragged his hand out from between her folds, only to pop the two fingers that had brought her to completion into his mouth and loudly suck on them. 

 "Fuck, you taste amazing." He groaned, still eyeing her with a purely predatory look. Leaning over, he nipped at her breast, then laid on his side next to her. 

 "What…. what about you?" She managed to ask, the delirium of bliss dwindling. 

 He raised an eyebrow.

 She pointedly looked at the obvious bulge in his crotch and back up at him. 

 "Have you ever….?" His question trailed off while a crooked smile lit up his face. 

 She blushed, tugging on her earlobe. "I've...um, never actually seen one in real life."

 "Gods, you're so innocent." He chuckled, shaking his head amused. A second later, he rolled onto his back and folded his hands behind his head. When she made no move towards him, he rolled his eyes and taunted her. "Well? Or do I need to pull it out for you too?"

 Biting her bottom lip, her eyes darted back and forth between his face and his obvious erection. What was she doing? Her grandmother would be horrified. Yet her curiosity reared its head, encouraging her onward. Somehow, she knew with Ivar, she was safe. Not just physically but safe to explore her sexuality, something previously forbidden. He may be irritating at times and possessive at others but she knew he liked her innocence. And with him, touching him and letting him touch her...it did not feel wrong like when her ex tried. No, it felt like being home. 

 Before she could sike herself out with her frenzied nerves, she reached over and unbuttoned his jeans then slowly drew the zipper down. "Can…. can we take your pants off?"

 "No."

 His sharp retort had her whipping her head to look at him. Instead of meeting her eyes, he stared up at the ceiling like it personally offended him. 

 "Um, ok." She licked her lips, debating as what to do next. She tried to imagine what Alana would advise or even Gyda. Carefully and nervously, she guided her hand into his pants and boxers. Her hand wrapped around him and she found herself swallowing dryly. It was at this moment she was unsure what to do. He must have seen the hesitation on her face. Without a word, he wrapped his hand around hers and pulled his cock out, fully exposing it. Her eyes darted to his face and back down to his member. 

 "Um…. are they always...this…. this big?"

 He smirked. "You're good for my ego, kitten."

 That did not really answer her question but she doubted now was the time to probe further. She made a mental note to ask Alana…. hypothetically of course. 

 Her hand was unable to wrap all the way around his cock. Even though having nothing to compare it to, she was positive this was an impressive specimen. Holding her breath, she gently slid her hand from the base to the tip and back down. His cock twitched against her hand, making her giggle but she kept her focus on it. Slowly she repeated the movement a couple more times. With each pass she began to feel more confident. When noticing wetness gathering at the tip, she ran her thumb over it, smoothing it around and found it helped glide her hand along. 

 She glanced up at him, since he had not said anything either in encouragement or redirection, only to see a pained expression on his face. Immediately she yanked her hand away from him, terrified she was hurting him. "Are you OK? Am I doing it wrong? Does it hurt? I'm so sorry."

 "No, fuck." He grunted then inhaled sharply. "No…. it’s just been awhile."

 "Oh." She was not sure what to do with that information, so she focused back on her task. Memories of listening to Alana and some of her friends talk, plus a few movies she had seen, gave her some inspiration as she continued stroking him. Before she could talk herself out of it, she leaned over and gave a little lick to the tip of his cock. 

 "Fuck!" He shouted, hips jumping, hands gripping the sheets tightly.  

 Seeing his reaction, she felt powerful, bringing this strong man under her control like this. It was alluring to know with just her hand, he was utterly at her mercy. The sweat beading on his forehead, his chest heaving with his fervid, shallow breaths, mouth slightly open. He was always handsome in her mind but seeing him like this, it was captivating. She continued guiding her hand up and down his member, swiping her thumb along the top frequently to spread his precum. 

 "Fuckkkk, Kari." He groaned out, hands fisted in the sheets now. "I can't…. ah, fuck!"

 Suddenly, he grabbed her hand and aimed towards his stomach. In the next second, his cum shot over his bare skin. Thinking how he continued his ministrations after she finished, she pumped him a few more times until he swatted her hand away. His chest heaved as he panted, one arm thrown over his face. 

 Silently, she got up and went to the bathroom to grab a towel and clean him up. Making a mental note to throw it in the wash before Alana could smell it and know what happened. 

 She returned and wiped him up, marveling at what just occurred. In comparison to others, she knew this experience was minor but to her…. she felt so wanton, so scandalous. She could not help the silly grin on her face, even as her stomach turned in knots. It went against everything her grandmother taught her, but she could not regret it. Even if it could never happen again. 

 Once done, she set the towel on the ground. The youngest Lothbrok silently laid there the whole time, arm over his face. The longer his silence endured, the more confusion and apprehension dispelled her confidence. 

 Finally, she could not take it any longer. "Did I…. was it ok?"

 In the next instant, his arms snaked around her and yanked her back onto the bed. Her squeak of surprise was cut off when his mouth descended on her possessively, as if attempting to steal the very air from her lungs. His body hovered over hers, pinning her to the bed as he claimed her lips completely. The way his mouth dominated hers, forcing her tongue to fight with his, the fire that shot through her body at his touch, was intoxicating. She willingly surrendered to him. Her hands tangled in his hair, keeping his mouth on hers. A needy whine slipped from her when their mouths unlocked, only to become a moan when he trailed his tongue over her neck. 

 "I want to taste every inch of you," he breathed against her skin, pressing open-mouth kisses that were sure to leave marks on her. "I want to corrupt you in every way imaginable."

 Her body arched into his touch, weak and throbbing for more. Even his words shot desire coursing through her. Air seemed unnecessary, only his mouth was a requirement to continue breathing. 

 "Ivar," she whispered in a slow, shaky breath. 

 That seemed to clear his lust-fueled haze. He shifted to press his forehead to hers, both panting and lips swollen, evidence of their raging desire. After a moment, he rolled over onto his back, pulling her to lay partially on his chest. His hand glided up and down her back soothingly. 

 As they lay there, Kari knew they crossed a line. Even if she could not make herself regret it, things had shifted between them. At least for her. They were at a crossroads. The entire time she knew Ivar, they had been toeing the line of friendship but this…. for her, this crossed it. And she was not sure what to think about it. Her mind continued to berate her, reminding her that they could only be friends. And not friends with benefits. She made her vow and no matter what, she promised herself to keep it. Even if it meant losing him. That realization felt like a stab in the heart.

 "Ivar, what are we?"

 "What do you mean?"

 She bit her bottom lip. This was not a conversation she wanted to have, but this limbo, this stalemate they resided in...it ate away at her psyche. Her head told her that friendship was the line they could not pass; meanwhile her heart longed for his affection that he so easily bestowed upon her. Tipping her head up so her chin rested on his chest, she watched him as he stared up at the ceiling, an arm behind his head and the other caressing her back. "We're not a couple…. but we aren't just friends either, I think."

 "Who the fuck cares what we are!" He snapped harshly. "I'm Ivar and you're Kari. Anyone with a problem with that can go fuck themselves!"

 It sounded so simple coming from him, but she knew whatever was between them was far from simple. He knew her choice of remaining friends. Then a thought crossed her mind that seemed to steal her breath away.  "Are there….do you do this with other…. friends?"

 "Do you?" Those mesmerizing eyes moved to her, staring at her as seeking to penetrate her mind and witness all her secrets. 

 "If I said yes, what would you do?" She meant the question to be teasing, to add a lightness to the conversation. Yet soon as the question slipped from her, she knew it was the wrong thing to say. 

 Instantaneously, a menacing glint entered his eyes and tension coated the air like oil. His body slowly moved, forcing her onto her back and leaving him hovering over her like an angel of death. 

 "I'd fucking kill them." He declared in a terrifyingly calm tone. His eyes were cold as ice as he stared down at her, his lips pulled back in a snarl. All she could do was stare up at him, scared to move. One of his hands grabbed a fistful of her hair, forcing her head to tip upward and bare her throat. Her breath froze in her chest, unable to pull away, unable to escape his hold on her. "You are mine. Do you understand?"

 Tears sprang to her eyes unbidden with how tightly he gripped her. This side of him, this cold fury was more frightening than his fiery anger. 

 "Yes…" she choked out, as he continued to glare down at her. 

 After a moment, he let go of her hair, smoothing it down. Then he dropped his face into the crook of her neck, laying on top of her. She could feel his labored breath on her skin. 

 "I can't…." He slowly inhaled, after he pressed his lips to her neck as if in apology. "I don't share. And the idea of you with someone else…."

 Her heart hammered in her chest, the residual fear still oozing like molasses in her veins. His hands held her firmly, like that would be enough to keep her. She stared up at the ceiling, unblinking. They laid there for several minutes, both caught up in their own thoughts. Sometimes she forgot how dangerous he was. Why everyone was so concerned for her safety. But this….it frightened her. This side of him that could so easily switch from fiery wrath to frigid terror. She was unsure what to do. 

 "Kari, I…." His voice trailed off but she could hear the apology in his voice, even if words failed him. "I'm a selfish bastard."

 "Mmmm…." She hummed, lips twitching. Her hand ran through his hair. After a long moment, she quietly asked, "Just Ivar and Kari?"

 He pressed another soft kiss to her neck, his other hand seeking hers to entwine their fingers. "Unless you've changed your mind?"

 She knew what he meant, and to hear the faint traces of hope in his voice made her words feel like lead as they rolled off her tongue. "I'm sorry."

 "Why won't you tell me?"

 "It's not…. it’s not worth it."

 "Then why do you let it affect us?"

 She sighed, knowing there was no way to win this conversation without spilling all of her secrets. "Please, Ivar."

 "Fine." He grumbled, rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand. 

 Eventually, he started caressing her skin with feather-light kisses as if worshipping her. His lips started on her neck, an occasional nip only to be soothed by his tongue after. Torturously slow, those kisses reached her ear to continue their journey along her jawline. Once he found her chin, his hand left hers to tug on her chin, tilting her face downward to meet his. His mouth hovered overs hers for an agonizing moment before sealing a gentle, sensual kiss to her lips. Their lips moved as if time itself stopped for this moment. No rush, just a silent conveying of emotions that could never fully translate to words. Her mouth and tongue danced a waltz with his, a willing partner even if she knew it was better to leave the dance floor. It called to her, summoned her, and like a spell cast over her, she allowed him to lead. 

 When he finally released her, lips swollen deliciously, he leaned up slightly to gaze down at her with something akin to devotion. The look made her squirm self-consciously because she wondered if her face mirrored his. 

 "We probably….um, not…." She stuttered out, dropping her gaze to his chest. Her thoughts swarmed about like a beehive kicked over. 

 "No." He chuckled in a low and husky tone. "I'm kissing you and touching you. Fucking try and stop me now."

 "But…." 

 His mouth descended on hers in a harsh kiss this time, swallowing her feeble protests. 

 "Ivar, you can't…." She tried to reason, only to be silenced once again by his possessive mouth, claiming hers. 

 She yanked her mouth away. "Stop." 

 This time he nibbled down her neck while his hand squeezed her thigh, rising higher and higher towards her sex. Although she tried to wiggle away, it was impossible. She was no match for his physical strength, nor was her willpower resolute enough to keep her from thoroughly enjoying his seductive touch. 

 "Stop, stop. Fine. A quota." She gasped out, her body beginning to burn under his assault. 

 "What?"

 "You can…. this is so weird...a kiss quota."

 He lifted up to stare at her like she was insane. "You're serious?"

 She nodded. 

 "Twenty kisses per day and they roll over if unused."

 She laughed. "No way."

 "Too low?" An arrogant smirk played across his mouth. "I know you love these lips. Thirty kisses."

 "No! I was thinking like three."

 "Three? Fuck that."

 "Four."

 "Fifteen."

 "Ivar, that's too many. We might as well be in a relationship." She giggled. Never before would she ever have guessed she would be arguing over a daily kiss quota, but here she was. 

 "I don't see a problem with that."

 "But we're not."

 "Fuck." He nuzzled her temple, letting out a long sigh. "We're just Ivar and Kari remember? Who gives a fuck what others think."

 "Five." She amended her number. 

 "Twelve."

 "Six."

 "Ten."

 "Seven."

 "Nine."

 "Eight."

 He pressed a greedy kiss to her lips as if sealing their agreement. "Eight."

 "No roll over."

 "Argh!" He finally rolled off of her and laid on his back beside her. "Today's kisses start now."

 "What?"

 "Yes."

 They rested next to one another, staring up at the ceiling. Kari had a stupid smile on her face and wondered if Ivar did too. 

 "How are you feeling?" She quietly asked. 

 "Fine." He huffed but after a second, entwined their fingers and brought it up to his lips. "Today was more fun than going to work, right?"

 "Well…."

 He growled. 

 "Yes, it was. I never just lay around in bed, but this has been…. nice."

 "Nice?"

 "Perfect."

 "Mmmm. Better."

 She giggled at the pure smugness in his voice. "Should we keep watching our show?"

 "Unless there is something else…."

 "No."

 After an apparently necessary kiss from their quota, they started the show back up on her laptop. Her head was on his shoulder and their fingers still entangled. For a second, she wondered if she should be concerned with how completely normal this felt. There was no denying this connection they seemed to have. Cuddled up to him, she relished in the sensation, for who knew how long it would last. 

 Ivar squeezed her hand. "Did I mention your ass and legs look fucking amazing in this shorts yet?"

 "Shut up." He buried her face against his shoulder, flushed with embarrassment. 

 "You don't believe me?" He snickered, fingers skimming her bare skin tantalizingly.  "I can't keep my hands off them, fucking amazing."

 "Gods, Ivar, stop!" 

 Thankfully, he did but only after receiving a kiss in recompense. 

 *****

 A couple of episodes later, and four kisses from the quota, Kari was still cuddled up against Ivar, her head on his chest this time. They had taken a break to make popcorn after they restarted the last episode. Yet, like their bodies were magnetized to the other, they subconsciously drifted back to cuddling once the popcorn was gone. With his hand rubbing up and down her back and his rhythmic heartbeat beneath her ear, sleep waited just on the outskirts of her mind to pull her under. Because of this, she barely registered a knock on her door until it suddenly opened. 

 "Hey, Kari, I think this Friday we…." Alana's blue eyes widened like saucers when she fully registered the scene before her. She blinked owlishly for a long second before clearing her throat. "Hi, um, Kari, can we talk privately please?"

 "Sure." Kari pulled away from Ivar with dread filling her. She had not realized what time it was and now that Alana had seen Ivar…. her mind fumbled to come up with a decent excuse, even though she knew it was fruitless. Each step feeling like she was walking to the gallows, she followed her roommate down the stairs and to the small living room. 

 "Alana, it's not…." She started, hoping to start the conversation off but was cut off. 

 "What the hell is going on?" Alana rounded on her, lips pursed and hands on her hips. "I come home and Ivar Lothbrok is lying in your bed, under your covers, shirtless and you're clinging to him like a koala. Tell me it's not what I think it is."

 "We're just friends…"

 The blonde interrupted again. "Bullshit. Are you two fucking? Tell me right now!"

 "No, we aren't. I swear."

 "We told you to stay away from him. What's going on?"

 "It's...it's a long story."

 "I don't want him here."

 "Why not? You bring guys here?" Kari asked defensively. Never before had she had a guy over, the whole year and a half they were roommates. 

 "Because he's a Lothbrok!" Alana sighed, after a quick glance up the stairs to confirm they were still alone, she continued. "You don't…. I don't want you caught up in that world. You deserve someone sweet, and kind…. and who treats you like a princess."

 "Weren't you telling me the other day to get out there? Go on a date with Erik?"

 "Because Erik is a gentleman. He'd treat you well. He'd probably propose after a month of dating you. He's been smitten with you since last year."

 The brunette rolled her eyes but smiled at the sentiment. She may disagree with Alana's viewpoint of Erik's level of attraction to her, but she knew her roommate meant well. The blonde had been pressing her lately to ask him out herself. 

 Before Alana could say something else, they both heard footsteps coming down the stairs. After a moment, Ivar appeared with his t-shirt on over his sweatpants, shoes on, cane in hand and hair pulled back in a man bun. 

 "You leaving?" Kari questioned, desperate to hide the disappointment in her voice. 

 "Yeah, there's something for work I need to do before going into the office tomorrow." 

 She moved to stand before him, gaze sweeping over his body as if she could read his pain level with just a look. Meeting his eyes, she quietly asked. "You'll be alright?"

 He snorted, rolling the cane in his hand. "You sound like my family now."

 "Probably because they care about you."

 He hummed, ignoring her comment. "You should be getting a box in the mail tomorrow."

 "Why?"

 "I ordered you some clothes."

 "Ivar…." 

 "My priestess needs to wear more than just yoga clothes." He leaned forward to whisper in her ear. "Though, I do love how tight they are on your ass."

 She laughed, pressing a hand to his, unfortunately, covered chest and carefully pushing him back. "Unbelievable."

 Instead of shifting away from her, he used her hand on his chest to pull her against him. His lips crashed against hers like he needed her to breathe. She clung to his t-shirt as her legs trembled under the reckless abandon of his mouth. Only when she felt boneless did he finally allow her to pull away, desperate for air. With short pants, she gazed up at him wondering where that came from. 

 "I'll text you tomorrow."

 "Oh ok." Was all she could say, her brain still fogged up by the insatiable kiss. 

 He cupped her cheek, looking at her with something like adoration if seen in anyone else, before glancing over her shoulder at Alana. "Nice seeing you again." Without waiting for a response, he walked to the front door and out of it. 

 The sound of the door closing seemed to lift the haze over her mind. She turned around to see her roommate glaring at her with arms crossed over her chest. 

 "Just friends, huh?" She scoffed with a dramatic roll of her eyes. "I don't know what game you're playing with him but I don't want anything to do with it. Apparently, you're not quite the woman I thought you were."

 "Alana…."

 "Save it." She stormed past Kari and up the stairs to her bedroom. 

 With a sigh, Kari trudged over and locked the front door. She wondered how true Alana's words were. After everything that happened today with Ivar, was she even the woman she thought she was? Or was he changing her? And was it for better or worse?

 She honestly was not sure….and it scared her a little. 

[bansheeoftheforest]

Can we get some rambles about some Moreau's Revenge AU? Like more in deoth about how everyone reacts and feels? Maybe some Emma reaction? Jacob? The public? Does feral!Jekyll ever hurt anyone badly? Do he and Zosi play alot? Is Hyde still there, just trapped in the subconscious of Henry's mind? When he's back to himself, does he still maintain some of his feral behaviours? Does he slip into his feral state as a defense mechanism?

Ok i just gotta mention I love it when people come up with aus, thrust them onto me, and then tell me to come up with ideas/the canon for the aus, I'm not even sarcastic, I just love that everyone has collectively decided that I'm an au hoarder and therefore, I should have all the aus and I should also be the one making the content for them. I love my job and I love all my little kitties bringing me dead mice all the time <3

Also! I'm just going to ramble every single fact that my brain comes up with, and this is specifically going to be about the Feral!Branch of the au <3

Henry got kidnapped after walking home from a dinner with a few of his close friends. Moreau stalked him until Henry was alone, to which he knocked him out and dragged him off to his funky hideout.

It takes a whole month before people find Moreau's hideout. By that time Henry has already been severely beaten, his bones are broken and his body is bloody, yet that doesn't stop him from prowling his tiny cage. Much like an abused dog, he completely ignored his wounds or just made them worse by biting on them, or by trying to stand on his legs when the rescuers found him. Instead of cheering and being relieved, he snarled and growled and tried to swat at them with his claws.

The first four that got into the hideout were Brokenshire, the Commissioner, Jenkins, and Wipple. The four of them were already friends with Jekyll and they were the most worried. While the other police arrested Moreau, they took it upon themselves to find Henry.

They found Henry in a small labspace, laying on the floor while whimpering. The moment he saw them he became aggressive. The only indication that he really was not human anymore was his eyes, sharp teeth, claws, and pointier ears. Subtle changes that were enough to tell them that there was no awareness behind those large eyes.

The sound of pain and anger that Henry made when they had to muzzle him is a sound that will forever haunt every single police officer from that day forward. They had to cuff his arms and practically drag him to the police vehicle, despite the muzzle he managed to make his displeasure and pain quite clear.

They brought Henry to the Society immediately, and made sure that no one else saw him. They but a sheet over the cage they kept him in and told anyone who asked that it was a runaway monster that they were going to dump with the Lodgers. They made the Lodgers gather in the foyer before the revealed who actually was in the cage.

The Lodgers were, to say the least, shocked and horrified. Not only was Henry so badly beaten that he could barely stand by himself, but the way he snarled and swatted after them invoked such a... Uncanny feeling within them. It wasn't really until then they realized how serious all of this was, the whole situation with Moreau.

All Lodgers were absolutely disgusted with what Moreau had done to Henry, but Ito, Maijabi, Jasper (plus Rachel and Robert, of course) were the most affected. The police had to physically restrain them from rushing up to the cage because if Henry got close enough he would not hesitate to hurt them. Brokenshire and the Commissioner (God I swear to god I'm THIS close to oc-fying him oh my god) both have scratch marks from trying to get close and calm Jekyll.

The police helped the Lodgers move Henry to an empty lab room where he could be alone. They still kept him in a cage for quite a while, yet the moment that they had gotten him into the room, Robert completely burst out crying. He really could not believe that happened to his best friend, he is unsure if they even can save him, yet he swears to himself that he will make sure that Henry is safe. He was this close to decking an officer who, during a meeting that he attended at the police station with those present during the day of Henry's rescue, suggested that they put Henry in Bethlam.

Robert did not allow anyone to get into Henry's room, mostly for their own safety, and because he wanted to monitor Henry's recovery himself. No one really listened to that. Sometimes a Lodger (or a whole group) would sneak in just to have a look at him, or give him some treats or some kind of toy. Henry often found himself too exhausted and too wounded to try to chase them away, instead panting on the floor of his cage for most of the time while his visitors observed him with pure sorrow.

Ito, Maijabi, Jasper, and Rachel were the ones that visited Henry the most. Ito and Maijabi would often just sit a bit away from the cage and observe him for a bit, maybe try to talk to him, occasionally they would help steal food from the kitchen to give to Henry. Rachel and Jasper were put in charge of feeding him most of the time, and it was only when Rachel and Jasper threw in chicken in his cage that he let himself be distracted from them and stop snarling just so he could eat. All of them left with tears in their eyes most of the time.

All the Lodgers would be worried, all Lodgers would try to visit Henry, but out of them Ito and Maijabi had it worst. Maijabi felt like he was losing his son, Ito-- so often cold and honest-- had never cried so much in her life when seeing her mentor in such a state. They often comfort each other, and do their best to always be available to help Robert with whatever he needs.

Emma route: I imagine that Henry and Emma are already married at that point. She has been worried sick for Henry the entire time, the police stop by her and Henry's house immediately after dropping Henry off at the Society. She rushes to the Society and the Lodgers all seem so... Sad, horrified, she gets more and more scared and suddenly she sees Robert and Rachel and Jasper, all three looking pale and ill. She begs them to tell her where Henry is... Robert can't even get any words out of him. He simply shows her to the room where they are going to keep Henry and shows her Henry's cage. Poor man is still laying bloody on the floor, still in a muzzle, but he barely has any visible sclera from his dilated irises and his hair is wild. He lays like a beaten dog, he doesn't even react as Emma kneels on the floor outside his cage. Emma turns around and demands and explanation from Robert, Robert sits down on the floor next to her and quietly explains everything the police told him, what Moreau did to Henry. Robert hugs Emma as she just starts crying, but both leave quickly to not... Well, bother Henry, who grows impatient and starts rattling against the cage. Not only has she been incredibly scared and worried for her husband the entire month he was gone, now Henry seems so close and yet so far away and he doesn't even recognize her, he is beaten like a dog and thinks he is some sort of animal and it just... It all becomes so much for her. She leaves the Society and the Lodgers don't see her much after that, although she does come and visit almost every day (and whether or not people know that she does it, is an entirely different question) just to see her husband. Sometimes she will bring food (Henry always loved her cooking) or a toy for him, and she ends up being the first person that he actually allows to touch him voluntarily, despite Robert forcing himself on him so he can patch him up.

Jacob route: Jacob would find out because Abberline and or Brokenshire would tell him about the state they found Henry in. Jacob would probably hear the news that Moreau’s lab got busted and immediately make his way to the Scotland Yard and demand that the police tell him where Henry is. They would tell him as much as they are allowed to about the case, then tell him to go and talk to Robert Lanyon in the Society. Of course Jacob doesn’t do that, he just immediately breaks in and searches everywhere for Henry. Eventually Robert spots him parkouring over the rafters and chases him down until Jacob manages to find the room where they keep Henry. Jacob opens the door and immediately finds Henry tearing through an entire turkey leg, although he immediately abandons the food snarl and bark (or, well, the aggressive equivalent of a bark) at him and Robert, reaching his hand out of the cage in an attempt of tearing them to shreds. No recognition at all in his eyes, Jacob can only stare for a while. Henry looks the same yet so inhumane. Robert does his best to explain everything, Jacob can only watch in pure horror as he hears what became of his lover, seeing it right in front of him. He doesn’t even let Robert finish his sentence before he has already stormed out. He does not care what the police planned to do with Moreau, he goes straight to whatever cell they keep him in and murders him in cold blood. He doesn’t go back to the Society afterwards, no, he goes to the train hideout and hastily tells Evie and Green what happened to Henry, he spends the rest of the night drinking. Unlike the Lodgers and Emma, he stays away for quite a bit. He doesn’t return until a few days later when he has managed to pick himself up. He makes sure that the news and/or rumors of what happened to Henry dies down quicker than they can rise, sometimes he actually has the courage to visit him but only every few days. He gets to see first hand how Henry recovers-- physically, at least, and slowly and surely he starts warming up to having people near him. After only a few weeks, Henry allows Jacob to touch him. Something about him (and Emma in her route, of course) feels familiar, calm and protective. Henry puts his head in Jacob’s hand and Jacob quietly swears that he will always protect him, no matter how long this goes on for.

The public (even including the Lanyons and the Carews, and most parts of the Scotland yard) never get to know what actually happened to Henry, as the rescuers made a good job at making sure no news or rumors spread or that anyone saw Henry in the state he was in. As far as they are aware, Henry is currently in a coma, and slowly Robert feeds into the news, updating people around them about Henry’s condition. “He is stable”, he will say, “but I’m afraid it’s hard to know when he will wake up... If he ever will”. It’s safer to make it seem like he is unconscious rather than conscious because Robert knows that people (journalists, Lanyon Sr, Sir. Carew, etc) will demand to visit him. Once Henry is unferal, they let him decide when he wants the news of his “awakening” to be spread.

The worst Henry has hurt someone was either fighting back to Moreau (which didn’t happen often, as he was too scared of him), but I’d also like to imagine that besides scratching the officers, he bit and hurt Robert quite badly, either Robert or one of the Lodgers, because he got overwhelmed and stressed. Robert really does not blame him no matter how badly it hurt or how serious the wound got, he shouldn’t have overwhelmed him but in his defense, cat body language is hard to read on a human. A positive from that was that Henry clearly felt guilty afterwards when he calmed down, which might have been the first ever sign that Henry was “savable”, as he clearly felt bad over what he did rather than trying to finish the job. It was the first time he actually walked up to Robert and touched him-- headbutted him, even, because he felt so bad for what he did because Robert has only been nice to him. Robert was wrapping a bandage around his arm when Henry came up to him, gently chirping and headbutting him, and Robert straight up bawled his eyes out.

Zosi was literally the only living being that Henry allowed close to him for many, many days. Zosi was both undead and also an animal, which was the two things that Henry associated with safety after having found comfort with Moreau’s monstrosities. Zosi was quickly in charge of being the one to give Henry food and medicine since Henry would allow no one else to get close to his cage, and Zosi was in sole charge of keeping Henry entertained and happy and calm while Robert tried to figure out how to proceed with the treatment. Zosi was just happy to have Henry back, and Henry was happy to have a friend.

When Henry got tortured and lost his sense of awareness, Hyde faded away, but only temporarily. He is, as said, trapped in the mindscape for the time being and until Henry gets his awareness back. It’s quite a nightmare for Hyde because he is watching in real time, while also processing the trauma from Moreau, as Henry’s mind crumbles. Gone are the mind people, instead they are replaced by vague primal instincts and animal behaviors. It’s definitely not as serious as Hyde feels it is, as it’s a slow but sure recovery from a steady dip to awareness as soon as Henry is removed from the lab, but it’s still incredibly scary for him. Henry can’t see or hear him anymore, and even if he could, he wouldn’t be able to react or process him.

It takes almost about 1-3 months before Henry has warmed up to everyone, physically healed, and was able to get the therapy he needed to even become aware, yet he never got rid of the feralness in him. Whenever he is stressed, scared, or overwhelmed, he might jump back into pure feralness or get a few of the key characteristics; subtle physical and behavioral appearance, etc. Sometimes it’s hard for him to get out of it, sometimes it’s not. Sometimes all he has to do is calm down and relax, sometimes he has to sleep it off. Regardless, the Lodgers and his friends/love interests all do their best to keep Henry calmed and relaxed, and make sure he never has to endure as much stress as he did before and after what happened with Moreau. 

(Basically, he goes from full feral to what the Feral Au is rn)

The public never really gets to know about Henry’s... Ahem, condition, however, most seem to accept the excuse that Henry has terrible anxiety after his torture, ergo making it easy for his friends or lover/s to help Henry out of a room or a situation when he starts feeling overwhelmed and like he is about to turn feral. They are all calm and patient and loving and protective with him, every single one, and Henry is forever grateful for the patient they bring him.

Some random rambles btw:

Out of everyone that isn’t his lover for the branch, Henry’s favorite persons are Maijabi and Ito. Maijabi because he feels like his dad, Ito because the feral state in Henry sees her as his cub or pup, in some weird way. When Henry is docile, both Maijabi and Ito quickly learn that Henry very much loves attention and grooming his favorite persons.

I got the idea while writing the Emma route that maybe she was already pregnant by the time that Henry got kidnapped and turned feral, although it was early on in the pregnancy. I just love the angst of Emma wondering if she will lose her husband and if Henry will ever get to meet their child, and the thought of feral Henry freely being allowed to get close to Emma (they were all very worried about that) and immediately sniffing and headbutting her belly is just <3 (Also the thought of Henry almost immediately panicking when the kid is born and Emma wants him to hold him, suddenly his eyes dilate and his hair puffs up but it’s like a cat staring at something absolutely wonderful)

Surprisingly, Frankenstein was one of those who often would sneak into Henry’s room just to see him. In this crossover au, I’d imagine she’d be much more sympathetic for him. Maybe she would talk to him and apologize for bringing him into this at all, maybe she would even apologize for what she said and did to him personally.

I refuse to acknowledge a bad au branch for this one where Henry turns permanently feral and they either have to kill him or let him loose in the wild <3

[halcyonstorm]

Levi notices she looks lighter and happier and is glad shes getting used to the commander post but also notices shes getting distant and blames it on commander duties. He thinks do i miss her? Nah maybe its just habit. Buuut theeen. He then finds out about it one day during an after training drinking session with 104th at the same bar and his breath hitches in his throat. Hange all pretty in a dress very drunk laughing at something this guy said and the world stops around him. He doesnt understand what it makes him feel. He feels like shit. Terrible. He hates it. He wants to smack the guy's face but doenst understand why. 104th notices his sudden unease and follows the direction he's staring and see hange with a guy. Sasha and Armin sigh dreamily happy that hange found someone she likes and that 'this is the happiest ive ever seen her" Levi dies at that. What does that mean? He wasnt enough? What does this guy give her that he doesnt? Wait. Why does it matter why am I even comparing. She cares about me too. But not like that. He thinks. It gets confusing and he leaves in a rush leaving everyone else stunned. Except connie who laughs at how hange made him jealous. The rest is just levi childishly following hange around mocking her happiness and the guy, finding out WHY she likes him. But gets nothing the guys actually nice and cares about hange. He hates himself and accepts her happiness but falls for her even harder since now he knows what shes like when shes in love and he wants it to be him. He accepts that hes fallen for her with the help of a very drunk man next to him at the same bar to whom he spills his secret to. The story continues and pls can someone write this already before i kill myself daydreaming about it

hi anon! sorry it took me a while but I finally got around to writing this. thank you for suggesting the prompt! i hope you enjoy. you can read it below OR check it out here on Ao3.

Title: Get Your Shit Together, Levi!

WARNING: ANGST

note: this is gifted to @tundrainafrica. i hope this satisfies your angst cravings. i hope you enjoy as well <3

Levi and some members from the 104 went out to a bar one night. It was a warm, summer evening and the sun had just begun to set. They all had a long day training out in the field, and Connie somehow convinced Levi to go out with them. Perhaps it was because Connie batted his puppy-dog eyes at Levi in such a way where if Levi didn’t, he thought Connie would break down and cry. Besides, Levi had asked Hange and she declined stating she had other plans. The bar was hustling and bustling that evening. They sat in a booth: Levi, Sasha, Connie, and Armin. They all ordered food, Sasha ordering herself more food than she looks like she can eat. The kids talked amongst themselves. After all, who was going to talk to Levi? He was their superior, almost like their parent who disappeared for years before showing up unexpectedly, expecting the kids to take him back. Armin made some small talk with Levi, but no one knew much about Levi. They knew two things for sure: he loved to clean and he loved tea. He usually hated alcohol, but somehow managed to down an entire beer glass before receiving the food. He was exhausted from the day, as was everyone else.

Suddenly, a loud laugh caught his attention. It wasn’t just any laugh, but a familiar one. A laugh that sent shivers down his spine and his heart to throb hard in his chest. It was Hange Zoe’s laugh. Had he known she were going, he would’ve invited her to avoid the awkward socialization with his subordinates. He looked to where the sound was coming from and was shocked. Other plans, huh? She was sitting next to a dark skinned man with a buzzcut and a beer glass in one hand. He was laughing too. She was laughing at something he said. The sight of her took his breath away. She never wore a dress like that before, but tonight she wore an emerald green dress that went a bit past her knees, exposing her muscular calves. The neckline of the dress cut low, exposing her collarbones. Her hair was in a ponytail but was neater than usual. Was she on a date? The realization caused Levi to feel as if his heart was being squeezed by a fist that was wringing out all the blood from it. Squeezing it so tight Levi thought he was going to die for a brief moment. He rubbed his eyes and looked again to make sure he could believe what he saw. He could. There she was: Hange in her beautiful emerald dress, talking and laughing with the dark-skinned man. They were sitting across from one another at a table-for-two. Their faces were close to one another as they spoke and laughed, drinking glasses and glasses of wine. Why do I feel this way? He asked himself. But he knew why. This feeling was familiar. It happened a few times before, specifically with Hange. It happened when she gave Moblit all her attention, gushing over how competent he was as her assistant, and now. Seeing her face to face on a date with this man who was much more attractive than himself: honey brown eyes; aquiline nose; plump lips; big, strong hands; a deep voice; and most importantly, he was much taller than Levi. He saw her date place a hand on hers, making Levi’s rage fester even stronger. I’m gonna slap that man, he thought. Why was he touching her? And why does she not mind it?

Levi had been staring for a long time, longer than he thought, before Connie nudged him from across the table. He was clearly drunk.

“Leeeeeeeeeevi,” he slurred with a cheshire cat-like grin. “Gawking, are we?” Levi rolled his eyes, taking his beer glass from him.

“You’ve gotta stop drinking,” he ordered, finishing whatever was left of Connie’s beer.

“Are you looking at Hange?” Armin asked, turning his head left to look at Levi. Armin could tell right away that was what Levi was doing. He shook his head no.

“She looks soooooo happy!” Sasha chimed in, dreamily gazing at the couple. Levi felt his face contort into a wretched grimace.

“She does. I haven’t seen her look so happy in a while,” Armin added. He quickly regretted it though when Levi threw him a harsh glare. Armin looked through his glare after a moment. Levi had a look in his eyes that Armin never saw before: hurt. Levi was hurt. His eyebrows were knit together, expressing a look that one may give when they’re about to cry.

I am not enough for her.

Armin felt his heart strings tugged, hesitantly placing a comforting hand on Levi’s bicep. He knew how much he loved her, despite his harsh tone. Hange was the only one who truly understood Levi and his words. Armin was able to observe Levi with Hange one night.

It was a cool March evening and Hange was working hard that day. She had been cooped up in her office sorting through and reading stacks and stacks of papers. She never came out for a meal that entire day. He saw Levi knock on her door with a plate of food in one hand and a blanket folded over his arm. She didn’t respond, so Levi allowed himself in. The door was shut behind him, but Armin could hear him softly talking to her before leaving the office. She must’ve fallen asleep so Levi draped the blanket over her shoulders. He must’ve left the food on her desk. That was the moment Armin realized Levi loved Hange. He didn’t just love her. He adored her. Ever since that moment, Armin was able to decipher Levi’s words from his true feelings.

“Oooooooooooooh, is someone jealous?” Connie teased. Sasha slapped his arm. Levi felt like if he stayed any longer, he’d explode and say something he’d regret.

“Shut the fuck up,” Levi sneered, standing up to leave. He felt as if he should torture himself more and watch the happy couple, but he didn’t have the willpower to do so. He drank a bit too much than he would’ve liked, and the heat inside the bar was getting to a boiling point, and he felt sick to his stomach. He didn’t need to hear it from the 104 that he lost his chance with Hange. They called out for him, but he didn’t hear. The air outside was much cooler compared to the sweltering temperature of hundreds of bodies tightly packed in the small bar. He found a trash can nearby, barely making it before vomiting. The stomach acid and alcohol came spewing out of him. He smelt it in his nose each time he breathed. He spit into the trash can when he was done, starting to slowly walk back to the cabins.

-

A few days later, Levi goes back to that bar alone after another hard day training. He felt like the sun was draining him of his energy each time he dared to stay outside. He sat on a bar stool and ordered a beer. There was a man next to him of whom he didn’t recognize. He was a stocky older man who had short black hair and brown eyes. The man looked drunk, the type of drunk where you can remember half the shit that was going on. The man saw Levi’s face and did not recognize him which gave Levi an impulsive idea.

“Are you from out of town?” Levi asked the man. He gave Levi a small smile.

“Yes.”

Say no more, Levi thought. Suddenly, a few drinks in, he opened up the key on his heart and started spilling his emotions to this guy. A few tears came through. Levi was buzzed at this point, his words too jittery and his hands too shaky. The man to whom he spoke listened intently. Somehow, this man he met at the bar had this pleasant aura that Levi felt he could tell him anything.

“Sir,” The man said. “Why don’t you just talk to her? Talk to her like you’re talking to me. That is the only way you’ll find out her true intentions with her date.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“But it is. You know how much more peace there’d be in the world if people just talked things out?”

The man’s unrealistic statement somehow gave Levi some confidence. That confidence, however, quickly went out the window when he caught a glance of a messy brown mop of hair. It was Hange with that dark-skinned man again. She wore a black dress this time with a high collar, her arms exposed. God, she looked beautiful. Levi wished she could dress up for him like that. In that moment, hearing her beautiful laugh and seeing her beautiful smile, Levi realized he was in love with her.

“Ah… is that her?” The man asked, looking over his shoulder inconspicuously (unlike Levi who starred with no shame).

“Yes…”

“Find time to talk to her,” The man said. “You got this, man.” Before Levi went to say something to the man again, he was gone. He tried to watch her as she talked with the man. She was radiant. She had a look on her face that he couldn’t quite place. Was it… No. It couldn’t be. Her eyes were glowing, she was shining. Was she falling for this man?

He felt like he was gonna be sick again. He abruptly got up from his seat and headed to the bathroom. He pushed the stall door open, vomiting once again. His throat was still sore from the last time, so this time the acid ripped at his throat even more. Hot tears started to stream down his face. He wanted her so bad. He wanted to be the one to make her laugh and smile. He wanted to be the one she fell in love with, not him. His heart ached so bad it was attempting to jump out from his throat. What hurt the most is that the guy she was with was nice. Too fucking nice. He laughed at her jokes, didn’t complain when she rambled, made subtle touches that weren’t inappropriate, and he was tall. He placed a hand to his heart as if it’d help put it back together. He took a deep, quivering inhale before standing up, flushing the toilet, and going to the faucet. He splashed his face with some cold water. How can I expect her to like me if I can’t confess? He looked at himself in the mirror.

You look like shit, he told himself. He murmured a few words aloud: “I’m in love with you. I am in love with you. Hange, I love you. I love you, Hange. Please be with me.” He took in a deep breath, stronger than the last, before exiting. He bumped into a person when he left the stall but paid no mind to it. When he was about to leave, he noticed the man she was with was gone. Maybe he was the one he bumped into?

“Oi, Hange,” he said, walking to her table. She smiled softly when she saw him.

“Levi, what’re you doing here? I thought you hated liquor.”

“I can’t spend time at a bar?” he replied, leaning a hand on the table. Hange rolled her eyes playfully.

“You can do whatever you please,” She said, beginning to stand up.. “Now if you’ll-”

“Four-eyes,” he interrupted her. “You look…” She stared at him intently, waiting for his response. “Good.”

Her eyes lost their light. Did he upset her? Then Levi realized she wasn’t staring at him anymore, she was looking past his shoulder. At that moment, the dark-skinned man approached Hange from behind Levi. So I did bump into him earlier.

“Are you ready?” He asked her. His voice was deep and seductive. Levi wondered if they fucked yet.

“Just a moment,” Hange replied. “Thank you, Levi. Was that all you had to say?” He felt like an idiot. An absolute idiot.

“N...Yes,” he said, losing all the confidence he had built up. How could he compete with this man? Levi just wretched in the bathroom and looked as pale as a ghost. Hange placed her hand on his shoulder gently, which made Levi’s heart skip a beat.

“Have a good night, Levi. Get your rest.” She started walking past him with her date towards the exit.

“No…” he murmured, inaudible to Hange. Or so he thought. She froze in her spot as she heard him change his answer.

“Onyankapon, could you wait outside for me? Give us a moment,” She whispered to her date. He nodded, exiting the bar. Hange turned around to face Levi. They were standing within a comfortable distance from each other.

“Levi, what else did you have to say? It’s getting late, you know.”

“I miss you,” he admitted. Hange’s eyes widened at his direct statement, knowing he usually states the opposite. “I miss hanging out with you and being with you all the time. You’re with him now and that’s okay but I just wanted to tell you that I can be better for you. I can take you on dates that are more exciting than a bar. You said you always wanted to swim, we can do that… We can do whatever you want us to do. All I care about is being with you.”

Hange’s face flushed red. He never talked like this with her before. She could tell he was a bit desperate but that didn’t make him any less genuine. Her heart ached. She was not sure how to feel. She did love him, but that was a while ago. A little part of her would always love Levi, but she was falling for Onyankapon now.

“I’m so sorry, Levi,” she said, barely audible. “I’m sorry. I did feel that way for you a long time ago, but I don’t anymore. I wish you had told me sooner.”