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whats-her-quirk · 4 years

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Regulars

erwin smith x reader 18+ warnings: explicit content, big hand kink vibes, praise, fingering, oral, face riding (because it’s erwin and I have no self control), overstim, squirting (it’s as close as I could get to pizz for you), a touch of cum eating, creampie, some age kink, & authority kink for good measure wc: 13k (I’m so fucking sorry) a/n: Words cannot contain the joy I felt when I learned that @present-mel was my elf for our server’s secret santa. I knew I had to write you some aot goodness, and because I wanted this to be all indulgence with no angst involved, I went straight for the commander and a good old-fashioned coffeeshop AU. Mel, you know that I adore you. Get comfy because this is a long one.

With a soapy rag draped over your hand, you wash off the tables in the coffeeshop just like you did the day before. You clean mugs and teacups, pour cups of black coffee and whip up iced mochas, take money and give change, all just like yesterday and the yesterday before that. Even as the morning rush is about to really start, today will be more of the same.

You’ve been working at Scout Coffee for close to four years since you graduated from the university a few miles away. Unfortunately, choosing a major had been a struggle for you, and your Bachelor of Science hadn’t led to any promising job prospects that didn’t come with huge drawbacks—shitty hours, shitty pay, shitty bosses, the lot. So instead of sitting in a call center or manning the front desk of some office building all day, you landed at the coffeeshop, which turned out to be a pretty decent place to land.

You like being a barista; you really do. You enjoy learning to make different coffees and breakfast sandwiches (your friends are very impressed with the way you froth milk for them, even at home). You enjoy the hip atmosphere of Scout, with its mismatched tables and walls covered in vintage posters. You love picking the music that pumps quietly through the speakers just above the counter. And you even enjoy making conversation with customers, many of which are regulars you know by name at this point. You feel comfortable here, and you’ve become close with many of your coworkers.

Still, you’re getting a little bored, a little restless. You’re perfectly happy, but the monotony of spending 40-plus hours per week within the same four walls is starting to get old. Your life is a cycle of work, reading, video games, and sleep. You meet up with your friends weekly for DND, but lately, you haven’t felt up to much more socializing than that. Between your bills and student loans, you can’t afford the vacation you desperately need, so instead, you lean your elbows on top of the dessert case and sigh, wishing something interesting would happen—something to shake things up a little bit.

The bell above the door jingles, and you don’t even look up, lost in your daydream of two weeks off and a trip to anywhere. It isn’t until Petra, who’s opening with you this Monday morning, nudges you with her elbow that you lift your eyes from the platters of scones and cookies under you.

“Ook-lay what just walked in-way,” she says in pig latin instead of just whispering like a normal person. You elbow her back for being so obvious as you lift your chin from the glass, but your mouth pops open when you catch sight of the man approaching the counter—a drop-dead gorgeous man.

He’s at least six feet tall, broad-shouldered and fair-skinned. He’s dressed in an expensive-looking blue suit with a tie, and his blonde undercut is styled flawlessly. His face is so perfect you barely even register what he looks like; you just know he’s too pretty to look directly in the eye. As he steps up to the register to put in his order, your feet feel like they’re superglued to the floor. Petra takes his order for a Colombian dark roast coffee you currently have available. He pays with a black credit card, which she swipes through the terminal while you stare. He adds a 20% tip on the touchpad even though he only ordered a single coffee.

Not only is this guy incredibly handsome in a way you can’t quite put your finger on, but more importantly, you’ve never seen him before. You start to wonder whether you manifested him by pure thought as Petra hands him his receipt and assures him that his drink will be out in just a few minutes.

He takes a seat at an empty table by the window as Petra grabs you by the shoulders and shakes you back into consciousness. “Hurry up and pour his drink. We can’t keep a guy that hot waiting!”

You force yourself to blink before fumbling for a coffee mug and pouring him a steaming cup of the dark roast from the coffee urn. Your hands shake dangerously, clinking the saucer under the mug embarrassingly as you deliver it to his table. He looks up, smiling closed lipped yet warmly when you set it in front of him. His eyes are so blue, they practically sparkle in the sunlight from the window. Sparkle.

As he looks at you expectantly, you manage to choke out, “Uh, s-sugar and honey and stuff are over there.” You point toward the little side counter where you keep the sweeteners and napkins.

The man lifts the mug toward his mouth by the handle. “Thank you.” He blows at the steam wafting off the hot coffee, his eyes flicking down into the mug, platinum eyelashes fluttering slightly. He takes an experimental sip, testing the flavor, before pushing back his chair and getting up. “I think I’ll take you up on that sugar and honey.”

You nod and swallow what feels like a ball of tin foil caught in your throat. He grins at you before carefully taking his mug over to the sweeteners. As soon as his back is turned, you rush back behind the counter. Petra is waiting for you with a huge smile on her face. You mouth to her, “Oh my god.”

“I know,” she gushes because she does know exactly what you’re thinking. “Holy shit, that might be the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen. He looks like a Greek god. I just wanna tackle him.”

“You’re in a relationship,” you remind her.

“Yes, but if I weren’t, I’m telling you I’d climb that like a tree. But since I can’t, you have to.”

You cackle so hard and so suddenly you almost fall over. You? Have a chance with that guy? “Good one.”

She pouts, leaning her back on the dessert case so you can just see the customer behind her. He’s pulled a book out of his leather messenger bag and reads it while he sips his coffee. Your heart does a flip. “I’m serious. You haven’t dated anyone in how long again?”

You don’t even want to say, so you ignore the question. “Look, you can tell by the way he’s dressed that he doesn’t even work in this part of town. After today, we’ll probably never see him again. So let’s just enjoy the view while it lasts and then forget this ever happened, hm?” You say it lightly, cheekily, teasing Petra until she rolls her eyes and returns to the register to help the next customer as a line starts to form.

Forgetting, however, proves impossible. Even as you’re dashing back and forth for ingredients, making multiple drinks at a time to try and move the line along, you can’t stop glancing over at the blonde man sitting in the window. He sits comfortably but with perfect posture, one ankle crossed over the opposite knee, occasionally flipping a page in his paperback or taking a drink from his mug. With every spare second, you catch yourself looking at him, scrutinizing his face like it’s a marble statue in a museum.

After an hour, during which you mess up at least three different drinks and have to remake them, you finally figure out what it is that makes him so remarkable. All of his features are strong: heavy brows over large cerulean eyes, sharp aquiline nose with a prominent bridge, pale but pouty lips, especially for a man, and a jawline and cheekbones that could cut glass. They’re all dominant, not just one. On most people, this would be too much, too overwhelming. But on him, his frame, his projected aura of easy confidence, it’s so perfect it hurts if you think about it for long enough.

And when he rises from his seat, places his mug in the wash bin by the trash cans, and walks out the door with his book under his arm, that hurts too. You miss him as soon as he’s gone, which is insane, because you don’t even know his name. You spend the rest of the day in mourning, trying to coax yourself into accepting that you won’t be seeing him again.

It’s all for nothing, though, because around the same time the next morning, he walks in and orders another cup of the same Colombian dark roast.

Petra can’t stop smiling wolfishly at you, but you do your best to hide from her. On one hand, you’re in shock that he came back at all. On the other hand, you’re panicking. If he’s about to become a new regular, you have no idea how you’re going to handle it.

He chooses the same table in the window, which just so happens to be open again. This time, when you deliver his hot mug of coffee, you exchange nothing more than a friendly nod for his polite thanks.

While you whip up double lattes, you notice that he’s still working through the same paperback, albeit much closer to the end than he was yesterday. You crane your neck to try and see the cover, but he has it folded back under his hand in a way that would make you cringe if he didn’t look so damn gorgeous doing it. There’s concentration written in his brows, like he’s completely immersed in the story despite the noise and bustle of the morning rush.

With the breakfast crowd served and happy, you busy yourself bussing tables. You linger near the window, scrubbing the sticky coffee rings off the table next to the blonde. Don’t people know you give them saucers for a reason? Still, you take your time, allowing yourself to glance up at him a few times, admiring the way his angular profile eclipses the morning sun. You don’t realize you’re staring until he looks up from his page for a sip of his drink, catching your gaze with a smirk over the lip of his mug. You inhale sharply through your nose and avert your eyes, mortified that he caught you looking at him. As soon as the table is clean, you make a beeline back to the counter and restock the dessert case in shame.

He polishes off his coffee and the book at almost the same time. Then he busses his own table again, as if you’re not half in love with him already. On his way to the door, he tosses a long glance over his shoulder, and you feel your cheeks heat and flush. As much as you want to watch him leave, you have to look away, coy and embarrassed. You’re being way too obvious, and he’s catching on.

Once your shift is over, you run a few errands, cook some noodles for dinner, and spend the evening playing a hack and slash RPG to take your mind off the beautiful stranger. You resolve that if he comes back again, you’ll stop obsessing. He’s just a customer who happens to be as kind as he is gorgeous, but that doesn’t mean you can act like a fucking teenager. You’re an adult, for christ’s sake. You need to get a grip.

---

Wednesday is Petra’s day off, so the next morning, you’re manning the counter with Moblit, who is sweet but quiet and tends to focus on his work. It would make for a peaceful morning if Levi wasn’t seated at the end of the bar top opposite the counter, complaining.

Levi works the night shift at the hospital, heading up the janitorial staff, and has been coming into the coffee shop since before you even worked there. He’s as much of a fixture in the shop as any of your coworkers. He knows everyone, making him overly blunt and familiar, and he’s always exhausted. He’s also dating Petra, which you aren’t sure how they manage since their schedules and personalities are so opposite. Levi is all doom and gloom while Petra is an energetic ray of sunshine, but hey. They complete each other.

Levi is in rare form this morning, slumped forward on his stool, elbows on the counter and one hand curled like a claw over the top of his teacup. He came straight from work, the dark circles under his eyes a testament to his long, overnight shift. Poor Moblit looks terrified as Levi traps him with his horror stories of all the bodily fluids he had to clean up the night before.

Normally, you’d tap Moblit out, knowing Levi will get pissy if someone doesn’t listen to him, and you’re actually grossly fascinated by his stories from the hospital, if you’re being honest. When you confessed to him that you might want to work in the medical field someday, he gave you what advice he could. Though it didn’t end up changing your employment situation, the two of you grew closer in the process as Levi stepped into the role of the wise older brother figure.

Moblit looks like he wants your help, but today, you’re sticking to the register, watching the door like a hawk to see if a certain tall blonde is going to walk in.

Your resolve to stop obsessing was crushed the moment you woke up from a literal dream about the mystery man. It was nothing overtly sexual, but you dreamt that you were lying on a picnic blanket in the park, and he was feeding you strawberries and reading aloud to you from another worn paperback. The ache in your chest when you awoke was crushing, the scene fading into the abyss of sleep before you could really wrap your head around it. While it wasn’t out of the ordinary for some of your customers to appear in your dreams, you’d never dreamt about one in such a romantic fashion before.

But what did it mean? How could you tell the difference between pure infatuation and love at first sight? And were you crazy for even considering it?

“Hey, moron, you’re staring,” Levi deadpans from the other end of the counter. You shake your head, refocusing your eyes on him instead of the door. When you look his way, Levi lifts his mug, signaling that he’s ready for a refill.

“Sorry,” you mutter, shuffling to grab the pot of Earl Grey you made for him, knowing he’d drink three or four cups before heading out.

“What’s up with you?” he asks once his cup is full again.

“Oh nothing, nothing,” you reply, breathy and dismissive.

“Bullshit. Something’s up and I know it. Now spill.” He narrows his eyes at you over the top of his mug as he takes a long sip. His gaze is so pointed, you’re ready to break down and confess everything about your silly crush.

“It’s just—”

The bell on the door jingles as you’re setting down the teapot, and you look up so quickly that tea sloshes out onto the floor. It’s him.

“What?” Levi groans, looking over his shoulder at the stranger approaching from behind. You ignore him completely, smoothing down your apron and situating yourself in a way that you hope looks casual behind the cash register. You also hope that Levi doesn’t say anything embarrassing, but you’re not holding your breath, because his people skills are not the best.

The blonde smiles when he sees you at the register, and you swear you can feel your heart flip over inside your chest. “Hello again,” he greets in that lovely baritone of his. Meanwhile, your throat feels dry and sticky.

“Uh, hi again,” you echo, unable to find your own words. Your mouth is open, and you were hoping this would go better without Petra there, but alarm bells are ringing in your brain. You’re panicking. You finally squeak out, “So, the usual?” You wish it was a full sentence, but at least it’s a coherent thought.

He chuckles, perhaps delighted that you remember, but oh, how could you ever forget? He opens his wallet and replies, “Seems I’m becoming a regular.”

“Mmhmm.” The sound reverberates behind your closed lips as you punch in his order and swipe his card through the reader. Stupid, stupid, you curse yourself mentally, but you can’t find the right words when his face is distracting you. You hand the card back and mercifully, he speaks before you can

“I can just wait here while you pour it. You don’t have to carry it all the way over t

Your cheeks burn, flustered by his willingness to oblige. If only he were an asshole, then you wouldn’t care that he was so damn handsome.

You turn your back and pour the dark roast into a mug, place a saucer and spoon underneath, and set it down on the counter in front of him. “Thanks,” he says with a simple grin before heading off to add his sugar and honey. Your heart is pounding by the time he walks away, and you press a shaking hand to your chest, hoping to calm it. Too bad you don’t have time to before Levi chimes in.

“Wow, that was almost painful.” By the time you whip your head around to glare at him, he’s already looking straight down into his tea as he takes another sip.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” For all their differences, Levi is about as subtle as Petra, which isn’t saying much. You just hope he keeps the volume down, whatever he’s going to say.

Levi shrugs as he sets down his drink. “So, you like that guy?”

You fiddle with your hands. It’s not worth lying to him at this point, he already knows. “So it’s that obvious?”

“Tch.” He rolls his eyes. “I mean I guess I’d be surprised if you weren’t. He’s hot.”

“Oh my god. First Petra and now you.”

“I can’t blame her, really.” He’s so matter of fact, it makes you wonder if he’s ever been jealous, ever felt insecure when it comes to his love life. Probably not. With Levi, what you see is exactly what you get.

With a defeated sigh, your head and elbows spill onto the counter in front of him. There’s something about his nonchalance that makes everything come tumbling out of you. “He came in for the first time on Monday, and I haven’t stopped thinking about him since. But I don’t have a chance in hell, do I?”

Levi swallows the last of his tea. “I didn’t say that. Why wouldn’t you have a chance?”

You lift your head, resting your chin in your hands as your eyes wander toward the window. “You saw him. He’s obviously got his shit together, while I definitely do not. And he’s gotta be, what, ten years older than me?” You peel your eyes away, instead surveying the bottles of various flavors of coffee syrup lined up along the wall behind you.

Levi scoffs, then taps you on the arm. You don’t want to face him, but you do. He leans forward, looking you sternly in the eye. “You’re nervous because you don’t know anything about him. You’re idealizing him in your head before you get to know him. Once you break the ice, you’ll be fine.”

“Easy for you to say, mister no-filter.”

“Hey, I was nervous to ask Petra out the first time. And look how it worked out for me.”

“Yeah, but she’d also been dying for you to ask her out for weeks. And y'all were practically already in love anyway. You knew it was reciprocated.”

“Did you see the way he smiled at you? It’s reciprocated.”

“Fat chance.”

Levi clinks his cup against the counter. “You’ll regret it if you don’t at least try. Just wait a while, then carry a coffee pot over there and ask if he wants a refill. That’s your in. Then ask him about what he’s reading, and you’re golden.”

“I don’t know.” It feels weird taking dating advice from Levi of all people, but you have to admit, he swooped up Petra without a hitch. You shrink into yourself, wrapping your arms around your middle before chancing another peek at the window. He’s reading a different paperback today, you can tell by the size of it. You still can’t see the cover though.

“Hey.” Levi’s voice is a little softer this time, and that catches your attention more than anything. “If you can talk to a scary motherfucker like me, you sure as hell can talk to a guy as nice as him.”

That, you can’t help but smirk at. You punch him halfheartedly in the shoulder. “You’re not as scary as you think.” The eye roll it earns you is incredibly gratifying.

After about twenty minutes, and a little more ribbing from Levi, you fill a handheld coffee pot from the urn of dark roast. No one is waiting at the counter, and Moblit’s on standby in case someone comes in. It’s slow for a Wednesday, and your instrumental playlist is drifting calmly from the overhead speakers. Inside, you’re a hurricane, but you’re going to do this because if nothing else, Levi will never let you forget it if you don’t.

You carry the half-full pot of coffee carefully toward the blonde, rehearsing your line in your head. As you approach him, he looks up from his book, and you promptly forget what you were going to say. You raise the coffee pot to indicate your intent. “Uh, can I warm you up?” He raises an eyebrow. “Your coffee,” you correct hastily. “Can I warm your drink up?”

“Sure.” He shifts the book to his left hand, tucking his thumb inside to mark the page. With his right hand, he lifts his mug by the handle.

You don’t know how it happens. You reach out to pour the piping hot liquid into his mug, but when the plastic lip of the pot touches ceramic, something shifts, and there’s coffee splashing and glass breaking and his chair scraping against the floor as he stands up. There’s a dark coffee stain right on the knee of his tan dress pants, and you wish you could just crawl into a hole and die.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. Oh shit. Let me get you some towels.” You probably shouldn’t be cursing in front of a customer you just spilled hot coffee on, but your mouth is moving faster than your brain. You rush back behind the counter as fast as you can without spilling the rest of the coffee on yourself. Moblit is waiting with a roll of paper towels, but you quickly wet a clean washrag in the sink because god damnit, you probably burned him.

You run back to his table, where he’s still standing, surrounded by a puddle of dark roast and the smashed pieces of his mug. He has his hands up like he doesn’t know what to do with them. You feel like you’re going to cry. No, scratch that, you are crying. Horrifically embarrassed, you sniffle as you hold out the wet cloth. “Here, this is cold, for your leg. Oh fuck, I’m so sorry.” You need to stop cursing but you can’t.

You hardly look at him, barely register when he takes the cloth from your hand. You run back for the broom and dustpan, which you snatch from Moblit’s hands, bless his heart. You sweep up the broken glass in a hurry before anyone gets hurt. Oh lord.

“Are you hurt? Did the glass cut you?” This is it. This guy is going to need stitches and he’s gonna sue Scout Coffee for sending him to the ER and ruining his expensive suit. They’re gonna fire you, and you’re going to lose your apartment, and—

He’s laughing. You look up from your broom and dustpan to see that the handsome blonde guy is chuckling to himself. “No, no, I’m fine, really. I’m sorry for making such a mess.”

So he’s not bleeding. “But your leg,” you begin, but he stops you, sounding almost frustrated with himself.

“It wasn’t that hot; it was just what was already cooling off in the mug. But thank you. I’m really sorry for all the trouble.”

Your mouth opens and closes a few times, dumbstruck, before you sweep the rest of the glass into the dustpan. “No, it was my fault, I’m sorry.”

He sits down again, dabbing at his pant leg with his left hand while he wiggles the fingers of his right at you. “No, I wasn’t thinking. I hurt my elbow playing tennis years ago, and the nerve damage that acts up sometimes. I’ll completely lose feeling in that hand once in a while, and when it goes numb, I drop things. I should have known better than to hold the mug with one hand, but I didn’t have a bookmark. Stupid of me.”

There’s a lightness to his tone, a jovial self-deprecation that you know he’s putting on to try and cheer you up. But his story is just odd enough that you’re inclined to believe it.

“O-ok. Just give me one sec.” You scurry away to dispose of the broken mug. You pour him another dark roast in a paper to-go cup, add sugar and honey, and bring it back to him along with the roll of paper towels for the rest of the mess.

“Here,” you say, setting the cup down before mopping up the wet floor. Thankfully, the commotion has died down a bit, and people have stopped staring. “And I’ll refund the first cup from your card. Again, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s really ok. I’m just clumsy. Promise.” He turns his wrist a few times and flexes his fingers before extending his hand out to you.

You look at the wad of wet paper towels dripping down your arm and back at him. “Um.” You offer your left hand instead. He chuckles again and you shake left hands, his long, thick fingers dwarfing yours. Closer now than before, you notice for the first time the hint of a few fine lines around his eyes and forehead, the ghosts of many smiles shared over the years.

He nods. “I’m Erwin, by the way.” You offer your name, and he gives your hand a slight squeeze before letting go. Then he gathers his things and tips his paper cup to you. “Thanks for the warm-up.”

Hiding the blush on your cheeks, you walk away to dispose of the paper towels, finding it hard to turn away from Erwin. Levi was right; you were putting this guy on a pedestal in your head. He’s just a guy, not some god. But that doesn’t mean you aren’t still head over heels for him.

Oh no. Levi.

His hands are crossed over his chest, head cocked to the side. “So, how’d it go?” he asks too loudly. You shush him.

“You saw how it went.”

“Yeah. He likes you though.”

“No, he doesn’t.” The realization leaves you a little hollow inside. “I spilled coffee on him. He’s just being nice.”

Levi’s eyes flick over to the register. You follow his gaze to catch Erwin dropping a five-dollar bill—more than enough to cover the coffee you were about to refund—into the tip jar before turning toward the door.

“Yeah,” Levi drawls, leaning back in his seat. “You just keep telling yourself that.”

You turn around so Levi doesn’t see you smile.

Thursday is your day off. You wake up at a leisurely time, find something to eat, and watch a few episodes of the show you’ve been binging before getting ready for the day. You run your errands for the week, but even long lines at the bank can’t get you down today.

That evening after DND, you tell your friends about the coffee incident. When someone asks you if the guy was cute, you think of Erwin’s smile and answer yes.

On Friday, Erwin sees you before you see him. You have your finger on the nozzle of a can of whipped cream, and you’re just finishing off the iced frap you’re making when a shadow falls over the counter in front of you. You swirl the top of the whipped cream before you look up, and there he is.

“Hi.” You’re sure it sounds stupid, but he caught you off guard. Though you can’t say you’re unhappy to see him, not at all. As you let off the tip of the spray can, a bit of whipped cream drips off onto your pointer finger. Without thinking, you raise it to your mouth and lick it off.

Erwin’s clear blue eyes flick down to your mouth and back up to your face. He clears his throat before speaking. “Hi. I uh, missed seeing you here yesterday.”

Realizing that you just put your finger in your mouth, you lean over to the sink to wash your hands. It’s a good thing, because you can feel your face heating up. It happens with some regulars, you remind yourself. They like routine; they like the same person telling them good morning and pouring their coffee every day. But when Erwin says he missed you… you’re not sure how to read it.

You laugh it off because it seems like the only choice. “Yeah, Thursday’s my day off.” He doesn’t seem like the stalkery type, the kind of customer that you shouldn’t tell what shifts you work or what time you get off. Petra had one of those follow her out to her car once, some silver-haired guy that she had to get a restraining order for even after Levi threatened to beat his face in. But you could all tell that guy was going to be an issue as soon as he walked in. Erwin gives off no such vibes.

“Well, I hope you enjoyed it,” he answers sincerely.

“Thanks.” A moment of awkward silence passes between you before you think to ask, “Oh, do you want a cup of the Colombian?”

“Yes, please.”

Instead of taking the coffee to his usual table, which is clean and open, Erwin sits down at the bar top across from the prep counter. He doesn’t pull out a book, either, and the heat around your collar begins to rise. People only sit at the counter if they want to chat, and you’re flattered and flustered by it all at once. To distract yourself, you wipe down the counter again.

“So,” you start casually, remembering what Levi said about Erwin being just a person, “I hope you didn’t have any big meetings the other day after I spilled that coffee all over you.”

Erwin chuckles. “When I spilled the coffee?” You get the sense that this is going to be a point of contention for a while. “Actually, I did, but I keep spare clothes in my office because, like I said, clumsy.” He motions to himself, and though you still have trouble believing someone as chiseled and poised as Erwin could be considered clumsy in general, you have to imagine he’s spent a long time dealing with that old injury of his.

“Does your office have, like, a walk-in closet?” Yes, you’ve noticed over the past week that Erwin’s suits are always neatly pressed, like he gets them dry cleaned. He wears very expensive shoes, and a big silver watch. That’s not a cheap haircut either. Not like you’d ask him directly, but it’s driving you crazy wondering exactly what he does for a living.

Erwin shakes his head as he takes a sip of dark roast. “No, just a regular closet. It does have a pretty great view of downtown, though.”

“Oh yeah? Must be nice having a big, fancy office all to yourself.” You squeeze your lips together. That might have been a little forward of you. Reign it in, tiger.

Erwin remains unphased, though. He actually sounds a little dejected when he says, “Yeah, the view is one of the best parts of the job.”

This makes you quirk an eyebrow. “Is that so?”

Erwin chuckles. “I’m being a bit dramatic. It’s not so bad.”

You can’t stand beating around the bush anymore. “So where do you work?”

“Stohess Ad Agency. You’ve probably seen the building, it’s the tower with the bank logo on the top.”

You drop your rag into the sink. When he mentioned the view, you weren’t exactly sure he meant ‘skyscraper,’ but it all seems to add up. “So, you write ads? Any I’ve seen?”

Erwin runs one palm over the back of his neck before wrapping both hands around his steaming coffee mug. His fingers interlock as he lifts it toward his mouth with both hands. “I don’t write them anymore, really.”

You drop a hand on your hip. “So you’re, what, an executive?” You’re not even completely sure you’re using that word right, but you’re pretty it means one of the higher-ups.

Erwin hides his mouth behind the mug as he answers. “CEO,” he says simply, casting his eyes down, away from your face. His voice is quiet, but a smirk plays at the corner of his lip.

You’d be ashamed to admit it, but those three letters go straight between your legs. The power, the authority—it’s very much a turn on. You can imagine him behind a giant desk with his feet up, talking on the phone about getting some reports on his desk first thing in the morning. You also shamefully think about him drawing the venetian blinds closed on the windows of his corner office and bending you over that desk. But you’re getting way, way too ahead of yourself, mainly because Erwin falls silent after that, taking tiny sips of his coffee as his eyes linger anywhere but your face.

You lean your elbows on the counter you just cleaned, meaning you’ll have to wipe it down again, but it brings you below eye level with Erwin, who turns to look down the slope of his nose at you. You grin and ask, hoping to ease whatever this tension might be, “So, is it like Mad Men?”

Erwin cracks, eyes crinkling slightly as he shows his perfect teeth in a smile. He shakes his head. “Not really.”

The conversation meanders as an hour passes. Erwin waits patiently as you help other customers, always ready to pick back up where you left off when you come back. The two you settle into an easy flow of questions and answers, learning little details about each other along the way. You find out that he recently moved to a house in the suburbs, which made his commute to work longer but makes Scout Coffee the easiest play to stop for his morning pick me up on the way.

“Why the move, then?”

Erwin shrugs. “I was tired of my apartment. I don’t mind driving; the car is where I do my best thinking. Plus, I wanted more room for Daisy.”

Your stomach drops. “Daisy?” His wife? No, doesn’t wear a ring. His daughter, maybe?

Erwin reaches for his phone and taps a few times before sliding it across the counter to you. A photo of him and the happiest looking golden retriever you’ve ever seen waits on the screen, and you audibly gasp. This might be the most attractive thing about him yet.

“Oh my gosh, she’s beautiful. How old?”

Erwin takes his phone back and stares at the picture for a moment before sliding it back in his pocket. “She’s six. I rescued her as a puppy right around when I got promoted to VP,” he muses to himself, marking the time in his mind.

“Well, I’m sure she likes the extra room to run around.” Erwin agrees.

You don’t want to pry, but he makes it sound like he moved up the corporate ladder so quickly. It’s a world you understand so little about, never having worked in an office setting. The politics of it all, clawing your way to the top of a big company like that, it’s weirdly fascinating to you. You want to ask more about it, but you don’t want to come across like you’re trying to grill him. You decide to drop it for now, but you don’t want this to end. “Refill?”

“Please,” he says, but he catches sight of his watch as he holds out his mug. “Oh, wow. It’s already 9:00. I should actually get going.”

“I’ll make it to-go.” You’re careful to set the paper cup and sleeve down on the counter instead of passing it to him in the air. Just to be safe.

Erwin gathers his stuff, and you take a moment to appreciate the way the sleeves of his plaid button down are rolled up over his forearms. He’s still wearing khakis and a tie, but it must be casual Friday.

“So, I’m not sure if I’ll make it in this weekend, but…” Erwin lingers at the counter, coffee in hand.

You can’t hide your grin if you wanted to. “See you on Monday. Now go before you’re late!” You wave a nearby hand towel at him, and he laughs.

“I’m already a little late,” he confesses, “but I’m the boss. I can spare a few more minutes for coffee in the morning.” He takes a deep breath, like he wants to say something else, but then he just nods. “See you on Monday.”

He must not think you’re looking when he drops a couple bucks into the tip jar on his way out.

The weekend passes much too slowly. You spend a lot of it reading, some of it working on your next DND character, and the rest of it texting Petra and Levi.

Levi: He was late to work because he was talking to you. Oh yeah, you’re in.

Petra: HE LIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIKES YOUUUUUUUUUUUUUU

You’re embarrassed but so giddy that you don’t even tell them to stop.

On Monday, Erwin comes in a little later than usual. He misses the rush, so you pour yourself a coffee along with his. He’s dressed to perfection in a sleek, black suit, but his eyes look tired. Still, they light up when he sees you.

“Good morning,” he says in a half-sigh.

“Good morning,” you say. “The usual? Or can I interest you in a blonde roast?”

“What’s the difference?”

“Blonde has more caffeine.”

“Give me the blonde.”

This tired, almost defeated Erwin is something you’ve never seen before, never even imagined, really. He even lets his forehead drop heavily onto the bar top after he sits down. But he’s still here; he still came to get his coffee, and hopefully to see you. You spent all weekend looking forward to seeing him again, and not even his change in mood is enough to put you off. Instead, you look for ways to help.

You add the sugar and honey to his coffee for him and place it on the bar top next to his outstretched hand. “Rise and shine,” you tease lightly, hoping to ease his mood a little. Erwin lifts his head, and though he closes his eyes and massages the bridge of his nose between his thumb and pointer finger, a sleepy smile spreads across his lips.

“Thank you,” he says so sincerely, it could make you melt on the spot. As he takes his first sip, you can’t help but imagine him, in pajamas and with his hair a mess, drinking his morning coffee across from you at a spotless kitchen island. It’s a daydream you need to tuck away for later, though.

“Of course. So, what’s up?”

Erwin tells you he was up late the night before, looking over some spreadsheets that one of his employees sent in incredibly late. It’s something to do with financials, far above your understanding of how corporate business works, but mercifully, he only gives you the CliffsNotes version of it. He’s typically good about getting enough sleep, he tells you, but this morning, he’s running on only a few hours, plus he had to take Daisy on a walk, and get ready for a meeting with the board of directors that morning.

“So, you’re the boss, but they’re like, your bosses?”

“Essentially, yes.” Erwin downs the rest of his blonde roast. You refill him without even asking. “So, the caffeine is desperately needed today.”

“I hope it goes well. I’m sure you’ll dazzle them with your… statistics or whatever.”

Erwin smiles gratefully. “Thank you. The quarterly reports look good, which helps make me look good in their eyes. Enough about me, though. How was your weekend?”

“You have time to stay and talk?” You want to make sure you don’t make him late today.

“I’ve got time.”

You tell him that there isn’t much to report, but he’s not satisfied. After pressing you a bit more, you admit, “Well, I spent a good bit of Saturday prepping for the new DND campaign my friends and I are starting this week.”

“DND?”

“Dungeons and Dragons. You know, with the maps and the dice and fighting monsters and stuff.”

“Oh, right. I’ve never tried it. It seems… difficult.”

“Well, the stats and the lore can be really overwhelming, to be honest, but when you break it down, it’s really just using archetypes and prompts to tell a story together, you know?”

When Erwin still looks confused, you explain the basics: creating characters, crawling dungeons, rolling for initiative. By the time you get done with your crash course, he’s nodding along, looking much more enthusiastic than he was when he walked in. You don’t even know how long you’ve been talking when Erwin looks down at his watch. “Sorry, I’m probably boring you to death.

As he gets ready to leave, he tells you, “Not at all. I can tell you’re really passionate about this.” You’ve already made him a to-go cup, which he nods appreciatively. “Thank you so much. This day just got a lot better.”

“It was nothing. See you tomorrow?”

Erwin nods. “Tomorrow.”

On Tuesday, you barely have time to look in Erwin’s direction when he arrives, but he can barely get in the door anyway. There’s a marathon race in the city that ends about a block away, so spectators and runners alike have kept you busy all morning. Petra’s at the register and the line is all the way back to the entrance. Erwin takes his place in it and waits anyway.

When the order for the Colombian crosses the counter to you (Petra graciously drew a little heart on the slip to give you a heads up), you give yourself a moment to greet Erwin before diving back into the next order. He’s able to get a seat at the very end of the bar top, much farther down from where you’re working on drinks. You’re bummed that you can’t even talk to him while you blend iced lattes and froth foam, figuring he’ll leave before the crowd dies down, but an hour later, he’s still sitting there, mug empty and paperback in hand.

You practically collapse on the counter in front of him. “Ok. It’s my turn to be exhausted today,” you say, your voice muffled as your chin comes to rest on your crossed forearms.

“That was quite the rush,” Erwin remarks.

“Please. I want to talk about anything but coffee right now,” you sigh. You lift your eyes to meet his, thankful that he’s still there to help take your mind off things for a moment while Petra grinds more coffee beans in the back.

Erwin thinks for a minute. “Oh. I forgot to mention. I met your friend Levi.” You nearly spit out your drink. A little bit actually dribbles onto your chin, but you hide it with your hand as quickly as you can.

“When?” You panic momentarily, afraid Levi was out stalking Erwin because you physically won’t shut up about him.

“Your day off last week. We ended up chatting for a while.” When you slap your palm over your face, Erwin laughs. “Don’t worry, he didn’t tell me any embarrassing stories about you or anything.”

You roll your eyes. “Still, I hope he behaved himself. He’s not the best with people.”

“I’ll say he was a bit blunt, but friendly enough. He said you’re a big reader.”

If Levi was here, you’d strangle him. Whether or not Erwin asked is irrelevant; Levi taking it upon himself to be your wingman is mortifying, but you try to make the best of it. “Yep. I like the classics, mostly, but I pick up a contemporary novel now and then. How about you?”

Erwin ponders. “I’m a serial rereader. I’m always going back to old favorites.” He flips over the paperback on the counter, The Sun Also Rises by Hemingway.

“It’s a nice feeling, going back to a book and knowing exactly what you’re going to get out of it,” you muse. You draw figure eights with your finger in a ring of condensation left behind on the bar top by someone else’s water glass.

“True,” Erwin says. “But I also find that sometimes, when I come back to something I’ve already read before, in a different stage of life, that it hits me differently now. Do you ever get that?”

You think, trying to find common ground, but— “No, nothing really comes to mind. But I get what you’re saying.”

Erwin snorts, somehow looking incredibly attractive while doing it. “Must be because--” He cuts himself off mid-thought.

“What?” you tease. “What were you going to say?”

He rolls his eyes playfully. “Must be because you’re younger than I am.”

It’s the first time either of you has actually brought it up out loud, the age difference between you. You’ve been assuming, based on looks and his career trajectory, that Erwin has a few years on you, but you’re still too shy to ask how many. It seems rude, somehow. Instead, you opt to continue teasing. “I’ll assure you, I have plenty of life experience.”

Erwin smiles fondly. “I’m sure you do.”

On Wednesday, everything changes. You’re scrubbing down tables, just starting to think about how it’s already 9am. Erwin should have been here by now. He didn’t mention any meetings this morning, not that he has to tell you his whole schedule, but you’re starting to worry anyway. What if something happened on his commute? What if you offended him yesterday when you poked him about his age? What if—

The bell above the door jingles, and you hear a chipper dog barking outside. Never one to miss a dog spotting, you look up and your jaw physically drops.

You can tell it’s Erwin purely by his size. Instead of his normal business attire, he’s wearing a black sweat-wicking athletic tee, black running shorts, and bright blue tennis shoes. Unless you were seeing him in profile (because his is so incredibly distinct), you might have to do a double take to recognize his face in a baseball hat and sunglasses. A pair of earbuds dangle around his neck and wrapped around his hand is a red leash with a beautiful golden retriever on the other end. You look back and forth between him and the dog—Daisy, it has to be—until Erwin waves you over with a wide, toothy grin on his face.

You bite your lip and hold up a finger, signaling just a minute before dashing up to the counter. “Hey, Mobs, will you be ok if I step outside for just a second?”

Moblit, who was rearranging the tea bag display beside the register, shoos you away with his hand. “Sure, we’re not busy. Go talk to your boyfriend.”

“He’s not my—”

“Uh huh.” Moblit wears a sly grin on his face. He might not say much, but he’s definitely observant. Plus, Petra probably spilled the beans. So you drop it completely and book it outside.

You barely say hello to Erwin before you’re kneeling on the sidewalk to pet Daisy. “Hi girl! Oh, you’re so sweet,” you coo, absolutely melting under Daisy’s friendly gaze. She leans into your hands, letting you rub her around the ears and fluff up all her beautiful golden fur. It’s not until you get your fill of pets that you look up to Erwin, who is watching you with delight. “Hey.”

“Hey.” He offers his free hand to help you up from the sidewalk, but as he’s pulling you up, his wrist goes slack and you wobble a bit. “Damnit, sorry.”

You shake your head, remembering his nerve trouble. “Don’t worry about it.” You look back to Daisy, unable to keep your hand from stroking the top of her head. She’s incredibly well-behaved, a perfect lady despite the people passing by on the sidewalk. “Oh my god, I love her. Hey, I was wondering, did you name her after Daisy Buchanan?”

Erwin smiles. “You caught me. I’m a big Fitzgerald fan.”

You shrug. “Me too.” Selfishly, you take a moment to let your eyes rake over him. You’ve never seen him like this before. His shirt is tight, showing off every bulge and curve of his toned upper body, from his pecs to his traps. It’s clear he takes incredible care of himself, and what you wouldn’t give to sink your teeth into that muscle. You caught an eyeful of his calf muscles as you knelt to pet Daisy, and his legs don’t disappoint either. But finally, when Erwin takes a few steps to the side to let someone carrying a large box down the street through, you notice a hint of his dick imprint through the swishy material of his shorts. Naughty, lustful thoughts hit you like a freight train—appropriate, because all you can think about now is letting Erwin rail you. The feeling burns brightly between your legs before the sensation passes.

You clear your throat. “So, what’s the deal? You and Daisy playing hooky today?”

Erwin rubs the back of his neck. “Actually, I decided to take a few personal days now that the review with the board is over. They’ll survive without me for a bit, I hope.”

“That’s great.” Erwin has seemed a bit overworked, so you’re glad to hear he’s taking a little break for himself. Just about every time he mentioned his work, he sounded burnt out, now that you think about it. But that begs another question. “So, did you come by for a coffee, or…”

“Um, no, actually.” Erwin fidgets with Daisy’s leash. “I’m taking her to the dog park so I can’t actually stay, but I wanted to come by…” Erwin pauses, and you forget to breathe. Is he really…?

“I was wondering if you’d like to go out for something other than coffee.” His face remains calm, but he bounces the toe of his tennis shoe against the pavement. “Could I take you to dinner tonight? Tomorrow is your day off, right?”

Your mouth opens but no sound comes out. You’re sure you look insane, blinking at him with a surprised look on your face until finally, you say, “Yes. I’d love that.”

Erwin smiles and then fishes in his pocket for his phone. “Here, uh, put your number in. I’ll text you for your address and pick you up. How about 8:00?”

You get off at 4, which leaves plenty of time for you to run home, shower, and find something decent to wear. “Sounds great.” You punch in your number and hand the phone back to him.

“Ok.” He looks as surprised as you feel. “Ok, well, I’ll see you tonight.”

“See you tonight.”

When Erwin arrives to pick you up in a black Mercedes, you refuse to believe it’s actually him at first. In the back of your mind, you catch yourself thinking about it often: Erwin has money, but you’d like him even if he didn’t. It takes no convincing, no doubt in your mind at all, but you never want to come across like you’re just interested in that. Once you text him to confirm that yes, that is him parked in front of your apartment building, you check yourself in the mirror one final time before grabbing your bag and heading out to meet him.

As you plop down in the front seat, it’s still as if you’re surprised to see him there. You’re so used to only seeing him in the mornings and when you’re working, it feels like you’ve stepped through the looking glass as you take him in against the plush leather interior. He looks positively gorgeous in an army green henley that accents his broad chest and dark jeans—you didn’t even know the man owned jeans.

“You look nice,” he compliments as he pulls away from the curb. Compared to him, you don’t feel like you could ever measure up, even though you chose an outfit you love, but you accept the compliment graciously anyway.

The drive is short; once Erwin got your address, he suggested a restaurant not far from your neighborhood. It’s a tapas place with a bar that he says is great, but you’ve never been there before. When you Googled the place to see how fancy you needed to dress, you remembered why: the cocktails cost as much as you’d pay for your whole dinner somewhere else. Still, when the two of you step inside, you’re charmed by the low lighting and jazz music that sets the mood.

It’s a seat-yourself deal, so you follow Erwin to a tall bistro table with two stools, putting a little distance between yourselves and the noisy bar. As you trail behind him, you can’t help but admire how incredible his ass looks in his jeans. Your stomach drops in anticipation, wondering where this night is going to go before you take a deep breath and try not to get ahead of yourself.

He helps you up onto the tall stool like an absolute gentleman before taking his place across from you. He slides a menu your way. “So, the idea here is sort of that you order to share, but if you’d rather have your own entree—”

“I’m fine sharing.” There’s something very sweet and cozy about the idea of splitting appetizers like a real couple. The thought strikes you with momentary panic, oh god, you thought this was a date, but what if he didn’t—

“I hope this isn’t too much for a first date,” Erwin says, a soft look in his eyes. “I just thought you might like this place.”

You exhale. “It was a perfect choice.”

A server approaches your table before there’s time to flirt any more, and you put in your drink and food order at the same time, since you opted for a late dinner. You’re grateful, even though you don’t want to admit that you’re starving. You order your favorite drink but let Erwin take the lead and pick the appetizers. You’re a little overwhelmed by the menu because everything sounds so good. He picks three plates, and it’s not long before the server returns with everything and you dig in.

“So, how was the dog park?” By now, it’s pretty easy for you to make conversation with Erwin without it feeling forced. All those mornings spent chatting have really put you at ease around him, although you have to admit that tonight feels a lot different. For one thing, you’re not working, and you can put your full attention into him instead of making coffees. Now that you don’t have to do anything but enjoy his company while you talk, you find it hard to look away.

“Good, really good. It’s worth the drive into the city, and Daisy really likes it. Hopefully I tired her out enough that she doesn’t destroy the house while I’m gone.” The shadows from the neon lights scattered across the wall throw pretty shadows across Erwin’s nose and mouth as he speaks.

“A great start to your vacation, huh?”

Erwin tips back his whiskey sour. “Yes. It’s sorely needed, I have to say.”

You wonder if it’s the right time to ask, to test the waters without prying. Even though you’re in public, something about sitting in the dark makes it feel like you’re the only two people here, like it’s safe to bring things out into the open that you wouldn’t normally talk to him about. So you decide it can’t hurt just to ask. “Is it stressful, your job?”

Erwin lets his chin drop forward, eyes cast down at the table. He considers his words carefully before he answers, it appears. “Very.” He says it with a smile, but one that covers a hint of hurt just below the surface. He finishes his drink before he goes on. “It’s funny. I started as an assistant at the agency right out of college, and after I got my first promotion, I thought I had it made. I started climbing the corporate ladder, and the next thing I knew, I was on top of it. I wasn’t doing the legwork anymore, the creative work of advertising. Instead, I was making sure everyone else did their job and sitting in meetings all day. It’s exactly what I thought I wanted,” he confesses, “and now I’m always wishing I had done something else.”

Without thinking, you reach out across the table, letting your fingertips bump against his. You thought maybe it had just been a rough few weeks. But as pained as you feel for him, you’re also touched that he’d be so open with you. “Something else like what?”

One side of his mouth pulls up in a grin as he looks up at you. “It’s silly, but I minored in English Lit. I always kind of wanted to write the next great American novel. But that’s just… a dream, I guess.”

You shrug. “You could totally write a novel if you wanted to.”

“I’m 38, you know. I think it might be a bit too late for me to head down a whole new career path.”

Your guess wasn’t far off, but even though he has more than a decade on you, it doesn’t really change how you see him. “Ah yes, you’re practically an old man.”

Erwin laughs. “Talk to me when you’re almost 40 and tell me that’s not how it feels.”

You slide your fingers farther between his on the table, and you feel his hand twitch against yours, but he doesn’t pull away. “Seriously. I know I’m only 25 and dumb, but I don’t see why you can’t write if that’s what would make you happy.”

“You’re not dumb at all,” Erwin says softly, locking his fingers into the gaps between yours. He stares down where your hands are joined. “I like you a lot,” he says out of nowhere, and you feel your cheeks tingle. “To be honest, I was worried I was too old for you to be interested in me, you know, romantically.”

He’s trying to kill you; he really must be. Your heart flutters as you blurt out, “Hell no.” Erwin looks up suddenly, eyes wide. You reach for your drink with your free hand, but you can barely get a sip down before the two of you erupt into laughter together. You’re embarrassed, but also not, because it’s Erwin.

“Good to know,” he replies.

You work your way through the appetizers and a few more cocktails, conversation flowing easily throughout the night. He tells you a little more about his job, and you talk a bit about college, realizing that you both graduated from the same university in the city, just a few years apart.

“What if I was a little older or you were a little younger? Do you think this would have happened if we met back then?” You’re feeling warm and loose from the alcohol, but completely comfortable in Erwin’s presence. He’s pulled his chair around the side of the table to sit closer to you, leaning in as he listens intently.

“I think so. I was a little more uptight back then, but you were probably just as sweet, as passionate.” Erwin looks surprised when you click your tongue at him. “What?”

“I’m not really passionate about anything that really matters. After I couldn’t get a job in my field, I kind of just got content at the coffee shop. Not that I don’t like it there but… I’m not sure if it’s my dream job, you know? Like, do I want to do that forever? I just don’t know. I wish I at least had a plan.”

Erwin’s shoulder brushes yours, and maybe it’s the whiskey or maybe it’s not, but he leans in and kisses the side of your head, just above your ear. “Well, you can take it from me that your career isn’t everything. I think you care more about coffee than you think, but you also care about books and video games and DND and your friends. You should keep those things close, believe me. That’s the stuff that will make you happy.”

You close your hand around his again, the urge coming over you to make a move. You decide you’re done fighting it. “And what makes you happy?” you ask.

Erwin smiles slyly, then he takes the bait. “You.” He squeezes your hand as he closes the distance between you, capturing your lips with his in a soft kiss that almost makes you forget who and where you are. Nothing matters but the sharp taste of him as he presses his tongue against you, parting your lips to lick into your mouth. You don’t care who’s watching. You want him, and you want him now.

Erwin closes out his tab in a rush before leading you out to his car. As soon as he unlocks the doors, your knees hit the leather seat, and you lean over the center console to take his chin in your hands, guiding him back to your lips for more. You feel his breath on your face between every searing kiss until you capture his plump bottom lip between your teeth. You hold him there and suck hard, winning a desperate little pant from him. For a moment, you open your eyes, eager to see his face this close to yours. He’s just as beautiful up close.

You hate to break away from him, but you need more from him than you’re able to get in the front seat of his car. “Your place?” you pant against his mouth, mid-kiss.

Erwin pulls back, breathing just as hard as you are. His pupils are dilated, searching your face wildly—for what, you don’t know. “Yours is closer.”

As badly as you want to see where he lives, he’s so desperate that you would have let him take you in the bathroom of the restaurant if it came to that. He doesn’t want to wait, and you don’t either. With heat pulsing between your thighs, you agree and give him directions back to your building.

The second your door is locked behind the both of you, he pushes you up against it, pinning you under him easily. His huge frame covers all of you as he showers you with sloppy kisses that trail slowly off your lips and down to your jaw, your neck, your shoulder. He bites down hard on that shoulder, making you gasp and kick the door with your heel. You can feel your panties getting damp already, but you’re not even ashamed. His jeans leave little to the imagination.

You push against Erwin’s chest until he backs up, and you go straight for his belt buckle. He pulls his shirt up over his head as you fumble with the metal. The pads of Erwin’s fingers slide deftly under the hem of your shirt, brushing against the skin he finds underneath, making you shiver. As he slides his palms around to your lower back, pressing your hips forward toward his own, you lean back and rip the soft material of your blouse up, tossing it aside.

You leave a trail of clothes in your wake as you drag him to your bed, stopping every few steps to kiss again, to touch a newly revealed bit of skin, to press your body against his and feel him against you. You practically fall into bed with him kneeling over you, bulge growing in his gray boxer briefs. Of course he’s as attractive naked as he is fully clothed.

Erwin bites his lip as he teases at your inner thighs with his right hand, anchoring himself against the mattress with his left. His touch is feather-soft over your clothed core, and your back arches into his fingers as your head falls to the side. “Is this ok?” he asks, petting you lightly over your panties, surely feeling how wet you are for him already.

“Mmhmm.” Your eyes flutter closed and you press your lips together as Erwin pushes a little harder against you and rubs up and down your folds from end to end. Each time he comes close to your clit, you can’t help but whine for him, pretty little squeaks that have his thighs tensing on either side of your knees. Finally, after what feels like ages of teasing, you lift your hips as his middle finger catches on your sensitive bud, and Erwin mercifully digs in a little more and switches to a circular motion that has you writhing against him.

“God, yes, it feels so good, Erwin,” you whimper as your body starts to shake uncontrollably. He groans when he hears you say his name, and you feel his cock twitch where it’s pressed stiffly against your thigh. Your eyes roll back in your head; you can already feel how big he is, but you hardly have time to think about it before Erwin slows his fingers to a stop. You whine again at the loss of friction only to moan as he pulls your panties down your legs. You kick at them until they end up on the floor somewhere.

Erwin moves to your side just long enough to open your legs up wider, then situates himself between them, his own knees open wide to keep you spread and keep him balanced. He hunches over you, and you grab him by the shoulders as his fingers find your bare cunt, slippery and trembling for him. He runs two fingers between your folds, making lewd squelching noises as he coats his fingers in your slick.

“You’re so wet, it’s amazing.” His voice is breathy and low as he praises you, his words going straight to your aching pussy before his fingers follow. You’re wet enough for him to start with two fingers, and you feel each knuckle pass inside your little hole as Erwin groans with pleasure. “You take me so well. So well, angel.” He pumps those thick fingers in and out of you as you roll your hips, legs squeezing against where he holds you open.

A chorus of oh’s and ah’s tumble past your lips, your own voice out of control with how good Erwin’s fingers feel curling inside you. Every drag rubs against your hole as he plunges in and out. He stretches you slowly before adding a third finger that has you mewling and throwing your head back against your pillow. Your nails dig into the meat of his shoulders as you cry out, then you feel the rough pad of Erwin’s left thumb against your bottom lip. You kiss against it as he presses the finger into your mouth, and you feel him from both ends at once.

“Suck,” he instructs you, and you comply without resistance, wrapping your tongue around his thumb and sucking in. Erwin heaves a shuddering breath. “Good girl. Such a good girl.”

Your eyes open in a flash, and before you can warn him, you cum hard onto his fingers. He fucks you through your high, fighting against your cunt that’s clenching so hard around him. You feel like it’ll never end until he pulls his hands back with a hiss. Erwin holds his right wrist in his left and rolls it, lips pressed hard together.

As soon as you catch your breath, you ask, “Is your hand ok?”

“I’m fine,” he pants. “I just need a minute.” Though his hand must have gone numb, he doesn’t look all that concerned once the initial pain passes. He flops down on his side next to you and takes your hip in his good hand, rolling you over on top of him. “Please, sit on my face, angel. I wanna taste you before I fuck you.”

He doesn’t have to tell you twice. You shift together until he’s in the middle of your bed, so tall his feet almost dangle off the end. With your hands on your headboard, you spread your legs and lower yourself over him. You’re still feeling the dull aftershocks from his fingers, so you barely register any embarrassment as he gazes into your pussy before craning his neck up to taste you, just like he wanted.

Using the headboard as leverage, you rise and fall, slowly bouncing on your knees as Erwin explores you with his tongue. His mouth is unbelievably hot, in temperature and fervor, as you ride his face within an inch of your life. Erwin’s tongue jabs at your tightness, digging inside you as far as he can until he needs to come back for air. His lips wrap around your cunt as you lift up, slurping your wetness so lewdly you can’t help but moan as you grind down again and again.

You build to your second high almost impossibly fast, overwhelmed by his prowess as he thoroughly eats you out. As you feel yourself getting closer, you press your body forward, breasts squished up against your headboard, and then you feel it: the sharp ridge of his nose nudging against your clit. You bounce faster, unable to resist the friction of it against your most sensitive zone. You call out his name again, warning him of what he’s doing to you.

One of Erwin’s hands slides up between your legs, two fingers dipping inside you again as he licks ragged strokes against your cunt. It’s muffled but you hear him beneath you, pleading for you. “Come on baby. Can you squirt for me? I know you can. Please, I want you to make a mess. You can do it.” His fingers thrust so quickly you can’t speak, and when he closes his lips around your bud and sucks hard, you explode. You feel a gush of liquid rush from between your thighs—something you’ve only been able to do a few times before. You can’t hold in the scream that accompanies it, and you squeeze your thighs together, skin sliding against Erwin’s now dripping face.

As the shock dies down, Erwin slides out from underneath you, bringing your soaked pillow with him. He tosses it to the side as you settle back down onto the mattress and draw air desperately back into your lungs. He finds a shirt on the floor to wipe his nose and chin on before you see him push down his waistband and step out of his underwear. Your mouth waters as soon as you get a good look at his size: he’s big all around, long and thick with a pretty vein twisting up the underside of his shaft.

His breaths are heavy as he pumps himself lazily, looking down at you with glazed over eyes. “One more, baby? Can you give me one more while I fuck you?”

You nod madly. You can’t find the words for how badly you want him inside you.

“You’re so good for me. Condom?”

“I’m on birth control. Are you clean?” He assures you that he is, and you believe him. “Then forget it and fuck me.”

Erwin groans and lets his knees fall to the mattress again. You scoot down toward him, all your movements clumsy and desperate. When you reach out for him, Erwin’s hands go soft against your thighs, and he melts into you, leaning down for a series of lingering kisses that take your breath away. When he rises again, he finds the backs of your knees and pushes upward, spreading your legs back and out, leaving you incredibly open for him. “Ready, angel?”

“Please, Erwin.”

He moans, fingers twitching against your legs. He tilts his hips so that just the tip of his cock teases against your overstimulated pussy, but it feels so good, so right even though it almost hurts. You clench instinctively, trying to pull him in, and a few seconds later, you feel him enter you with a shallow rocking of his hips.

Adrenaline rushes through you, and you make sounds you’ve never even heard before as he pushes a little farther inside you with each thrust. Erwin is panting so hard, you can feel his breath on your face even as he hovers above you, pressing down on your legs with those incredible hands of his. At this angle, not only can you feel his platinum pubes brushing against you as he finally bottoms out, but you can see them where the two of you are joined.

He holds still, shuddering and groaning as you squeeze around him; he’s so big you have no choice. It feels like you’re splitting down the middle as he stretches you to your limit, but your fucked-out mind needs, craves the pain. When you can’t stand it anymore, you whine and kick your feet to let him know you’re ready, and Erwin begins to move again.

Erwin lets his jaw hang open and his eyes flutter as he hammers into you, his strokes slow and deliberate. You feel that vein dragging against your inner wall every time he pulls out and slams back in, but it’s the one lifeline reminding you that this is real. This is really happening; you’re not just dreaming about it anymore. Erwin is yours, and you’re glad to let him take you.

Blunt nails dig into your hips as Erwin increases his tempo, huffing as he tries to talk you through it. “You feel so good… You take me beautifully... better than anyone.” He pauses to groan and you swear you feel his cock pulsing inside you. Everything below your hips is so wet, he glides in and out of you despite his massive size. Eventually, his sweaty forehead falls against yours, his body effectively folding you in half, and you scream.

His pace is brutal, building to something you’re not sure you can handle but you want all the same. Every few thrusts, he points his hips a slightly different way until he finds your cervix and taps against it. You can feel that familiar twisting in your gut, the intense tightness that makes you feel a little bit like you’re not going to make it. You squeeze as hard as you can, and apparently Erwin notices, because he asks a little too loudly, “Are you close?”

“Yes.” Your eyes are screwed shut. You can’t feel your legs. Erwin pushes himself back up and reaches down between you, finding your abused bud once more and rubbing those quick circles he must know will make you lose control.

Just before your vision whites out, he asks in a shaky voice, “Where do you want me?” In your state, he’s lucky you understand the question.

“Inside, inside,” you beg, and then the coil snaps. Your legs ache as every muscle tenses underneath Erwin, somehow pulling him even deeper than he was before as you writhe and cream around him. You fist your hands in his hair as he continues to rail against you before throwing his head back and releasing with a sharp, “Fuck!” You feel his cum running out of you as he shoots multiple loads inside, your pulsing walls milking out every last drop.

Erwin drops your legs at his sides before wrapping his hands around your waist, steadying you as he pulls out. He swipes two fingers up through your dripping folds, feeling your wetness one last time before rolling over and collapsing beside you. You clamber over against him as quickly as you can, pulling his hand up to your face and sucking his fingers clean. Erwin sighs and wraps his arms around you, holding you against his chest and stroking your hair.

“Are you… ok?” he asks between heavy breaths, and you nod.

“Better than ok,” you assure him. Maybe the best you’ve ever felt.

You stay curled together in your tangled sheets for a long time, holding each other. Erwin rubs circles into your back and your upper thighs with his knuckles, warming up your muscles that had fallen asleep while he had you pressed down. Soothing kisses are pressed to your forehead, your cheeks, your neck—anywhere he can reach—along with murmured praises. “That felt amazing. You did so well.” You don’t know if he notices, but you let one stray tear fall down your cheek, overwhelmed by not only how good but how complete this makes you feel.

After ages, Erwin uncurls himself from you. He looks at you so fondly, reaching out to brush his fingers against your flushed cheek. “Can I take you out for dinner again tomorrow?”

“How about you just stay for breakfast?”

“You don’t happen to have any of that dark roast in your apartment, do you?”

“I bought a bag. Just in case.”

A lot changes in the next five years, but a lot stays the same as well. You, Erwin, and Daisy live under one roof, but you commute into the city almost every day. You still work in a coffee shop, but now, it’s one you own. Erwin gave up his CEO position after his second book was published, but he kept his shares in the company, meaning you have a pretty little nest egg to fall back on, even after he helps you start your own business.

Recon Coffeehouse is located in one of the city’s hippest neighborhoods. Big tables are available for DND groups to reserve for their weekly sessions, and every Friday, you host video game tournaments. Gradually, you attract your own regulars, including your friends from Scout. Erwin sits at the end of the bar top most days, working on his next story. Being a business owner is a brand new challenge all its own, but you still find the time to work behind the counter at least once a week. Erwin puts a ring on your finger and stays by your side through everything. You’re exactly where you were always meant to be.

#erwin smith x reader #erwin x reader #snk x reader #aot x reader #aot fanfiction #snk fanfiction #snk #my writing

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restlessmaknae · 4 years

Text

promises for pride - past days

Beware of promises. You never know what they might turn you into.

Also; the downfall of a prince and his way of becoming one of the Seven Deadly Sins.

♦ Characters: prince!Seokjin x princess!OC (later Pride!Seokjin)

♦ Genre: demon au, seven deadly sins au, pride au, historical, angst, drama

♦ Words: 13k

♦ Warning: mentions of blood, death and the usual historical stuff

♦ promises for pride: past days (first half) / present days (second half)

🙝 1 🙞

Humble. Light-hearted. Innocent.

Kim Seokjin was the definition of purity, humility and goodness. Even though he was one of Goryeo’s princes, he didn’t look down on anyone, except himself. He was said to be the only royal in the palace whose soul wasn’t chained to the Devil. In the midst of hatred, treason, pride and intrigue, he was a living angel.

As a result, he was the one who was constantly bullied, both physically and emotionally abused and even his royal family and their servants called him names. Sometimes they mocked him because of his baby cheeks, reprimanded him for his bad eye-sight and made fun of him due to his fragile body. Sometimes they made up lies, just to make him receive the punishment. He could easily be used because he never − not even once − protested. Not when they accused him of stealing from the King’s jewellery box, for shoving his brothers into the palace’s lake or laying a hand on the soon-to-be king.

Why would he bear everything, although he knew that he didn’t deserve it? The answer was pretty easy. He didn’t know. He had no idea how he was supposed to be treated. He didn’t witness love, affection and humility around himself. Not until Park Myungeun showed up in his life, Myungeun being 12 years old and Seokjin being 13 years old at that time. After her arrival, his world was lifted upside-down.

Myungeun and Seokjin were the parties for an arranged marriage as a beneficial diplomatic deal, signed by the king of Goryeo and the king of Hubaekje. He was the 7th prince back then and she was the 8th princess. It was said that once Seokjin turns 19 years old, they would get married.

Being only 13 years old, he had no idea what to expect when Princess Myungeun and the king of Hubaekje - King Gyeonhwon - arrived at the palace, her father literally tossing her into the grandiose hall of his home.

Seokjin was eating his breakfast in the kitchen (another way to show that the King treated him differently; he couldn’t eat with the others, his breakfast was served in the kitchen where the servants worked), therefore he could eavesdrop the conversation with the said princess and her father. He even sneaked a bit because he was curious and came in sight with a tall, manly figure and a pretty girl with glistening eyes and a heart-shaped face. He gulped when he saw her. Her beauty was out of this world.

“Behave, child!” The father’s voice struck like lightning and resonated back from the rigid walls. The little boy shivered. “I don’t want to hear anything from you. Not even good, not even bad. Don’t forget that you are only here because Hubaekje doesn’t need another enemy at its current state. If things go wrong, you can get killed, you can be used or sold. Don’t forget that you are under King Wanggun's supervision from now on,” he splattered without any emotion displaying on his face. Without even love, hate or pity. Absolutely nothing. He was almost as stern as a statue.

“Put the children in her room until I meet with King Wanggun,” he turned to one of the servants, a pretty fifty-something lady with grizzled hair who looked just as puzzled as Myungeun. She was so startled that she almost forgot about the child when she started walking towards the corridor. Seokjin assumed that he was always as strict as this time but judged by the shock on the lady’s face, he knew that his behaviour wasn’t usual. “Make sure to keep an eye on her! I don’t want her to cause any trouble,” he added impatiently, his lips pursed in a thin line. The servant bowed politely and gently grabbed the girl by her wrist, leading her to her room.

Even though Seokjin was quite far from the scene, he could still feel the scorn and detestation that radiated off of the king of Hubaekje. He didn’t only look mean but also dangerous. He couldn’t understand how his father convinced King Gyeonhwon to seal a deal with him instead of attacking Goryeo and taking over the country. Everyone knew that Hubaekje had more soldiers but it was also a well-known fact that those soldiers weren’t as strong as the ones in Goryeo. As a result, signing a contract and deciding on peace was a win-win for both parties.

At that time, Seokjin didn’t know a lot about politics. He was forced to learn the name of previous kings and commanders, learn a bit about Goryeo’s history but he was never properly taught how to lead a country, when it was beneficial to seal a deal and what should we prioritise when we go into war. There was only one thing that he was taught to believe; everyone was an enemy outside the palace. However, despite his young age, Seokjin already knew well that he had enemies within the palace, too. In fact, that was all he had. Until Myungeun showed up that day and they started talking, he had nothing but enemies by his side.

Oh, what a lovely conversation they had! He could still remember every word that left her rosy-coloured lips, every expression that was displaying on her heart-shaped face and every glint that was swimming in her obsidian-black eyes.

What he didn’t know then that she would also cause the death of him and their love would really be one that lasts forever… and even more.

🙝 2 🙞

Come to think of their first conversation, Seokjin always had an ambivalent feeling. At that time, it felt natural but as years went by, it became a constant subject of their heart-to-heart talks and a reason why they suddenly started smiling, no matter where they went or what situation they were in. Being the Pride himself, he didn’t feel anything, only numbness. The smile that dared to creep onto his face was chemical; it was a mere trace of his usual smile.

It was the day of Myungeun’s arrival. She was sitting on the green grass, in the middle of their breath-taking garden, almost right beside the lake. The weather was lovely – the sun placed searing kisses on their pale skin, slowly caressing the fragility of their human bodies. Sometimes he wished he could still have a chance to feel the sunshine on his cracked skin or to feel the touch of her hand just one more time.

Nevertheless, he knew that it would only make things worse. She would make him feel even more miserable and cause more pain that she had already done.

First of all, little Seokjin only watched her from afar; watched as the wind played with the childish curls of her hair or as the butterflies were flying above her head, creating an invisible halo. Only after a few seconds when he had already made sure that they were alone did he actually approach her, clearing his throat as he came to a halt beside her.

Myungeun looked up from her book and averted her eyes to the boy. She was apparently taken aback by his sudden visit or his mere presence. He didn’t really know, after all it was their first proper encounter after the arranged marriage deal between their parents. Since they were still minors, they weren’t there when they came up with the conditions.

“May I sit beside you, Her Royal Highness, Princess of Hubaekje?” He bowed in respect, calling her by her proper name. He was once beaten because he couldn’t address a princess in the right way, so he made sure that he didn’t make any mistakes this time.

“It would be an honour, Your Highness,” she bobbed her head in response, closing the book in her hand. After her invitation, he hopped down beside her, stretching his hand out to touch the slightly wet grass which was watered by a sudden downpour earlier that day.

Myungeun smiled coyly, her adorable big doe eyes shining with both fondness and affection. She was quite flustered because it was her first time meeting a prince in person (and not his own brothers), not during a ball or a birthday celebration. Not to mention that she was perfectly aware of the fact that the boy who was sitting beside him, looking oh so harmless would be his husband one day. Even though she was only 12 years old, she knew that she sacrificed her safety, free-will and even her happiness for that marriage. She didn’t have a choice though, she had to do it for her kingdom. She was a princess, that was her duty.

“You have a really pretty dress,” he complimented, examining her from head to toe in that typical childish manner which was anything but rude. He looked at the world like he could still find something new, something magnificent and he could wander for long minutes without saying anything, without moving around. That was what infancy was about; to explore the beauty of the world because as soon as you grow up, you will find it harder and harder to find the rainbow in the midst of a heavy rain.

“Thank you, Your Highness,” she blushed deeply and her cheeks looked like two rosebuds.

“I don’t like to be called Your Highness,” the boy pouted sadly. “It makes me feel old. I’m just 13 years old. Instead, how about coming up with a nickname for me?” he leaned forward to see the hidden universes in her obsidian-black eyes. She flushed even more, not knowing what to do about the sudden intimacy.

A moment later, he also got embarrassed and backed away, questioning why he even dared to get closer to the 8th princess of Hubaekje. If his father had seen it, he would have punished him for his shameless behaviour. “So that you and only you can call me by that,” he added with a subtle smile, still a bit ashamed of his previous act.

The girl was left thinking for some seconds. Seokjin found it cute how she started biting her lips while she was pondering for a thought. It was an act out of hesitation but he still thought that it was adorable. She seemed natural and not at all princess-like and it made him feel at ease. At least, someone in the palace didn’t act like they ruled the world.

“What about Jinnie?” she suggested but as soon as she said the made-up nickname out loud, she giggled. She didn’t think that it would be so awful until the words left her mouth.

“Ah, that sounds like a girl’s name,” the little boy huffed in disbelief but a mischievous smile was evident on his face.

“Oh really, I’m so sorry,” Myungeun apologised in between laughs. Her laughter reminded him of the bell that was ringing through the utmost silence of the room; it was glorious, soothing and one of a kind. Something that chilled him to his bones and made his young heart beat faster. Something that was like an unknown character for him; he saw its curves and lines but he still couldn’t know its meaning. “And JinJin?” She raised her eyebrows, curiously waiting for his answer. Seokjin shook his head in disapproval.

“That sounds like a Chinese emperor’s name.”

“You are so hopeless,” she blurted out with the honesty of a 12-year-old and gently nudged his shoulder. He was actually flabbergasted at her behaviour. Apart from their introductions, she didn’t treat him like a prince and it might have been bothering or even upsetting for some of his brothers but he was an exception. It actually made him feel like a bird escaping its cage; it was truly deliberating yet scary. Coming off the safe ground was never easy. However, the unknown world never seemed as alluring as right then and there, just because he was with Myungeun.

“How about simply Jin then?” She winked at him and earned a satisfied smile from the little prince. Now, he was pleased with what he had heard.

“Well, I like that,” he admitted sheepishly. “It’s simple and nice,” he smiled to himself, not knowing why his heart was beating so fast. In general, he was like a ghost; he had to be around people to let them know that he was still there but he didn’t want to gain others’ attention. On the other hand, while he was with her, he didn’t want to hide in corners anymore, he wanted to be seen. He wanted to be loved.

“Then Jin, promise me to stay happy and healthy until we get married,” Myungeun said as she turned to face him, her eyes shining with affection. Jin raised his eyebrows in question.

“Why just until then?”

“Because after that, I’ll be your wife and I’ll take care of you,” she puffed her chest out in pride and held out her petite hand. Seokjin looked at it with fondness, examining those state-of-the-art fingers and her pale skin. “Promise?” she asked gleefully while playing with a loose strand of her hair with her other hand. The little boy didn’t have to think twice.

“Promise,” he intertwined their pinkies and sealed their promise.

Neither of them knew that it was a promise which was meant to be broken. They were already in another world when they should have got married.

🙝 3 🙞

It was almost a month after the princess of Hubaekje had arrived that she found out that Seokjin was constantly bullied. To be precise, she witnessed when he got beaten by one of his brothers – to be precise, the 4th prince who was called Sangchul. Oh, how he wished she hadn’t been there!

Seokjin was pressed against the wall in one of the corridors while the 4th prince was punching him in the face. Once, twice, three times… After that, he didn’t even keep count of it. Even though Sangchul claimed that he had stolen his fan that he had got from the Queen for his 16th birthday, he wasn’t the one who stole it. Nonetheless, he willingly received the punishment and didn’t even budge when he hit him again.

The 13-year-old boy saw from the corner of his eyes that a figure showed up at the end of the corridor. He couldn’t see properly who it was but he assumed that it was only one of his brothers or his parents who didn’t care about their son, not even a single bit.

Unfortunately, the sudden visitor turned out to be Myungeun who didn’t have the heart to back off and leave him there. She boldly came up to them, taking Sangchul by surprise who suddenly froze when he caught sight of her. The young girl looked ridiculously small beside the 17-year-old prince and Seokjin wanted nothing else than to warn her and shout until she got scared and ran away. Yet, the words stuck in his throat and his mouth went dry. Blood was streaming down his face and his lips were chapped. Overall, he was a beautiful mess.

“May I ask what I am witnessing, Your Highness?” the princess turned to Sangchul whose eyes widened in amazement. Even though the 8th princess of Hubaekje was younger than them and looked absolutely harmless, there was something in her tone that make everyone dread her words.

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing,” the elder prince shook his head. “Seokjin-ssi is merely receiving his punishment for stealing my property,” he added nonchalantly, glancing at the younger boy who was trying to stop his nosebleed in vain. He didn’t even dare to look up until Myungeun turned to face him and directed a question at him.

“Is that true?” she inquired without any hint of accusation. The boy felt the tension in the air and it didn’t help either that his heart was beating so fast, it ran like a wild horse who had just escaped its cage. He hesitated whether or not to tell her the truth. He didn’t want to look up, he didn’t want her to see his face and see how weak he was. He didn’t want her to get involved.

Yet, he couldn’t resist the urge to look into her hickory-brown eyes. Those beautiful blossoming rose buds that glowed more than ever. Those remarkable books that kept secrets and legends under their cover. Those nights that carried the cry of an innocent child and the giggle of a growing woman. Those little diamonds could tell anything but so could Seokjin’s worry-filled orbs.

Without saying a single word out loud, he shook his head in disagreement and knew that the girl got the message. To prove that he was right, she averted her eyes back to Sangchul who was flabbergasted at this absurd scene.

“It’s true, Your Highness,” he lied without a blink of an eye. “Don’t believe him! He’s a notorious liar,” he stumbled upon his words and the princess couldn’t feel anything but pity. Despite the fact that the 4th prince was 5 years older than her, he seemed like he was her interior, he didn’t act like a reliable soon-to-be-king. Not to mention his horrific acting skills, he was terrible at lying.

“Do you have evidence?” Myungeun counter-attacked and left both of the boys open-mouthed. Sangchul was apparently cornered by her question while Seokjin was more than surprised to see her acting like that. He had never seen her so serious and bold before. She was the definition of justice, that’s for sure.

“Excuse me?”

“Do you have evidence that the 7th prince stole what is yours?” she repeated patiently, not even showing signs of irritation or fear. She was utterly calm and firm.

However, the 4th prince seemed to come back to his senses and regained his usual, aggressive self. He started fuming in anger and spitted the words like they were infected animals on the verge of dying and he had to witness while they were suffering. He looked at her with disgust and pity in his eyes.

“How dare you ask me if I have evidence? You are just a useless princess, you have no right to question my words,” he bellowed like a bull and without warning, he came closer to her and slapped her in the face.

Three seconds of silence fell between the three of them. None of them said anything out loud; Seokjin gasped in horror, Sangchul had to suppress a triumphant smirk while Myungeun didn’t show any sign of pain. It was almost like she was too used, so it didn’t even make a difference to her.

“You are aware that I can inform my father anytime to send the army of Hubaekje and attack your kingdom. Is that right, Your Highness?” she raised her eyebrows in question.

Seokjin presumed that she would be shivering or at least her voice would be shaking but no, not at all. She was in perfect control of her emotions and her body. She wasn’t afraid. God knows how she had such a will-power to even question the 4th prince’s words who was 5 years older than her!

On the other hand, she was absolutely right. Goryeo didn’t have a choice but to either seal the deal with Hubaekje or get attacked by its army. She was a figure on the chess board, to be precise, the most important one. If she gets hurt, Hubaekje finally has a reason to attack the other kingdom. If she stays there, her home can stay safe and sound until the two kings decide otherwise. If we take that into consideration, she was almost like a hostage in the palace but she made sure to take every advantage of her role.

“You…” the elder prince spluttered furiously. He was apparently outraged and didn’t even know what to say after her fearless response. “You will get killed before your army can cross our borders,” he jeered at her with a wavering tone but to no avail. She was perfectly aware of the fact that it was an act out of defence, nothing more and nothing less.

Nevertheless, it was enough to scare Sanchul away, so he swiftly let go of his brother and leave the two children together. He disappeared so quickly, it seemed that he hadn’t even been there.

“Myungeun, are you okay?” Seokjin tumbled a bit to examine the aftermath of the prince’s violent act but she was really fine. She was only worried about him.

“I’m okay but you certainly broke our promise,” she whispered with a horrified flinch as she looked at his injuries. His face was covered in blood since his nose was still bleeding and he blurred his face with it like his skin was a canvas and his blood was his paint. He was really a beautiful mess.

“What promise?”

“You promised me that you will take care of yourself,” she reminded him gently and touched his left cheek. He backed away in an instant, both because his wound hurt and because he didn’t want her to touch him like that. Not when he’s covered in blood and literally on the verge of fainting.

“I will take care of myself from now on. I promise,” he bobbed his head but she wasn’t convinced. Instead, she took a step closer and hugged the little boy. It was only a childish hug with which she wanted to reassure him, telling him that she was there, no matter what happened and what he did. Love wasn’t in sight back then.

Nonetheless, she still got her hopes up and believed in his words. Again. But the first promise was already broken and more followed.

🙝 4 🙞

After seeing how his brother treated Myungeun and helplessly witnessing everything, Seokjin spent more hours learning sword fighting and martial arts than he had ever done before. His father didn’t even notice how he sneaked into abandoned rooms, diligently studying with the help of hidden notes from the palace’s library and practising over and over again.

He was lucky because when it once came to his usual practice in the afternoon, one of the martial arts’ teachers who worked with his brothers in the palace, caught him in the middle of his act and offered to teach him properly. He wasn’t allowed to train with his brothers because his father claimed that it wouldn’t do any good to the royal family. It wasn’t a surprise though as he didn’t even look at Seokjin like he was his son. From the day Seokjin was born, he was labelled as a scourge. He didn’t even know why Bang Sihyuk-ssi decided to help him.

However, with the said martial arts master, he finally had the chance to learn all the tricks that he needed in order to protect himself. Nonetheless, every learning is a process, so it came as no surprise that at first, he still couldn’t put into practice what he had learned. He wasn’t strong enough. He knew that it wasn’t merely psychological; he wasn’t mentally prepared to fight back. He would have to go against his own rules if he wanted to overcome his fear of hurting others.

Due to the fact that he was still a newbie, he could easily end up in the larder with the lovely Myungeun who was trying to patch him up. Of course, the doors were locked, they were all by themselves. Not even the chef knew about their secret hide-out.

“Why do people hurt others?” the little boy asked innocently while Myungeun was putting some kind of a leaf on his bruised skin. It hurt him like he was walking on fire but he tried not to show it. The girl was risking her own status in the palace while helping him, so he didn’t want to put an even heavier weight on her shoulders.

“I’m afraid I don’t know the perfect answer to that question,” the princess shook her head with an apologetic smile. Even though he was in pain, just seeing that smile of hers or looking into her hickory-brown eyes made him forget about all the misery in the world. “I don’t know the reason behind people’s hate. I think in a way we all try to find our place in this tangled world, chasing after shooting stars and wishing upon them like they would really make our dreams come true. When things don’t go according to our plan, we panic, we blame others and we try to hate someone instead of hating this unknown mystery that some call fate, some call destiny,” she whispered to make sure that no one could hear them while she placed some herbs on his scarred skin. He flinched at the sudden searing pain but pressured his lips and endured the pain. It was still better than being beaten up by his own brother.

Apart from the green leaves, her words felt like a kind of medicine, too. Not just his body but his heart was also screaming for help; when his misery seemed unbearable, she was there. Every single time. Not just this one. She definitely kept her promise.

“How can you be so smart?” Jin blurted out and the princess couldn’t help but giggle at his adorable question. Her laughter sounded like a lullaby told by beloved mothers – it was precious for him because he never once heard anything like this before.

“I’m not smart. I just read a lot,” Myungeun emphasised with a cocky smile. She gently wrapped a bandage around his wrist and pulled down the sleeves of his hanbok. Then, she let out an aghast sigh and looked at him with the most affectionate pair of eyes that he had ever seen. He was certain from the twinkles and the little backflips in that infinite abyss that she was pure, humble and most importantly: honest.

“I had the time to read as I was locked up in my room since I was born. My father didn’t want me to cause trouble that could lead to him losing the crown, so he made sure that all of his heirs were kept close to him. They even killed some of my brothers because he accused them of treason. If we take that into consideration, I’m lucky to be alive,” she trailed off at the end, her voice a bit shaky. The bittersweet aftertaste still lingered in his mouth when he decided to speak up. Maybe her confession triggered him to confess as well.

“I wish I was dead.”

“Ah, don’t say that, Jin,” the girl’s eyes widened in shock, her lips pursed into a thin lie. She didn’t hesitate to sit down beside him as soon as she heard his wish. A moment later, she reached for his hand and he didn’t have the heart to swat it away. Despite the fact that he wasn’t worthy of her touch, he let her hold his hand and draw invisible circles on his pale skin. If there was someone who wanted to leave traces on him, he wanted her to be that someone. “You are so special to this world,” she added lovingly, her eyes full of precious little raindrops that people looked after a terrible drought.

“How?” Seokjin cried helplessly. “I’m not smart, I’m not handsome and I’m not even strong. I’m nothing while my father wants me to be everything,” he said and felt as the weight was lifted off of his chest. Given that he had no friends in the palace and he couldn’t talk to his relatives either, he really had no one to turn to when something was bothering him. He was young, scared and lonely. Until Myungeun appeared in his life like a shooting star on a sultry summer day, he was lost in this world. Now that she was with him, he wanted to find his place but didn’t know how.

“You are smart, you are certainly handsome and you are so strong. If not physically, then mentally. Just because you can’t see it, it doesn’t mean that it’s not true,” she tried to reassure him but to no avail. He could always find something to prove her wrong.

“How can I believe in all of what you've said when all I did was reprimanding myself and finding flaws and weaknesses?”

“It’s time to change your way of thinking,” she stated sadly as he yanked his hand away from hers. He saw the disappointment in her eyes but he couldn’t help. He was disgusted of himself, of his weaknesses and childish worries. He hated his whole being, his fragile body and his inability to do anything to protect himself but most of all, to protect the only people who cared about him; his future wife. He didn’t want to push her away but he was afraid that she might get hurt if she stays with him. Nevertheless, she was too adamant, so she stayed.

“It’s not selfish to accept and love yourself, Jin. You shouldn’t think less of yourself but you should think of yourself less.”

“But it’s so hard when I’m the 7th prince of Goreyo and everyone hates me,” he flung his arms in the air in frustration. His life was a mess and he was destined to die as Goreyo’s hidden prince that no one knew about yet everyone wished to forget. He accepted his fate, so why couldn’t she do the same? “And I’m also afraid that I will become a narcissist if I believe you,” he confessed, his voice barely audible. That was what terrified him the most; the change. What if he would overdo it and become someone like his father? Become a merciless, heartless and narcissistic dictator. He didn’t want that. He would rather die than become someone like King Wanggun.

“You won’t become a narcissist. I promise you,” Myungeun flashed a reassuring smile and soothed his nerves a little. Maybe he didn’t believe her but until she was with him, he wanted to - at least – try to believe her.

“Pinkie promise?” he raised his eyebrows in question but she nodded without hesitation.

“Pinkie promise,” she reached for his hand and intertwined their pinkies.

Little did they know that it was another promise that was meant to be broken.

🙝 5 🙞

In order to reach the top of the mountain, you need to fight against snowstorms, you have to get up after you fall down and you need to be patient and stay strong. No matter what happens, you have to stick to your goal and keep going.

Just like climbing a mountain, living a life as the 7th prince of Goryeo was exhausting and unpredictable. Kim Seokjin was already said to be a waste when he was born and he proved to be even more useless as time went by. Or at least, that’s what his family thought. That’s what the palace’s servants assumed. On the other hand, there was this one special person who didn’t care about the stigma around him; who didn’t believe the gossip and who didn’t even get scared when he got slapped for taking the prince’s side. Myungeun was his last ray of hope but she not only painted his starless, grey sky scarlet-red like her cheeks when she heard a compliment from him but also sent stars that he could wish upon. One by one, beside her, every of his wishes came true.

Seokjin apparently changed but in the best possible way. He wasn’t that lanky, physically weak little boy that he was at the age of 12. He was a well-built, strong and outstandingly tall young man, on the threshold of adulthood. He was now the 2nd prince since 5 of his brothers had already died before he turned 19. One was killed by an assassin from Silla, one was poisoned in the palace by another one who hang himself up with a rope after he had killed his brother, the 4th prince was actually killed during a revolt between the people of Goryeo and the people of Silla while the previous 2nd prince died of heart-attack.

It wasn’t peculiar though. It was actually natural for the royal family to die out like that, however, it was detrimental for the boy who was growing up beside them, witnessing some of the cases with his own eyes and bearing the consequences of their death. He should have been delighted because his brothers didn’t abuse him anymore since he learned how to fight them back and since they were already dead. Nonetheless, all he felt was fear. He was terrified that the Crown Prince would also die soon and he has to take his place. Which means that as soon as his father - who was sicker than ever - steps down the throne, he has to take it. He didn’t feel ready to take over the kingdom at the age of 18.

He was quite sure that the King had planned something against Silla as a revenge for the previous revolt between the two kingdoms’ citizens but he didn’t want to think about it further until he really had to. Therefore, he lived his life as usual, not even changing his behaviour around Myungeun.

“What do you think will happen now?” asked Myungeun one day as she was walking in the palace’s garden with the 2nd prince of Goryeo by her side. The garden looked flawless in the dim light of the spring evening, scenting like a bouquet of her most beloved flowers.

The girl became a mature, wise young lady, despite the fact that he always knew that she was intelligent. Yet, he never really realised that he would see her turning into a real woman by having curves, losing her baby cheeks and smiling like an angel all the time. The joyful twinkle never left her brown orbs, she was just as beautiful now as she was when they first met – if not more. Honestly, he couldn’t compare her to her old-self because she was really a child then and she was a woman now. A woman with all the beauty and love in this world. The definition of humility.

“I don’t know,” Seokjin shook his head and looked down at his intertwined hands. “If the negotiation goes according to plan, nothing extraordinary will happen. However, if it doesn’t go according to plan, we may have to be ready for a war,” he concluded wearily, letting out a heavy-hearted sigh.

The Crown Prince was currently trying to reach an agreement with the king of Silla in order to secure the barriers. He had to take this responsibility on because the king of Goryeo was so sick that he couldn’t even leave the palace. He could hardly move, yet the outside world was led to believe that he was on a political trip to Southern Tang to seal a deal with Emperor Liezu. Taking everything into consideration, providing the current unstable situation of the later three kingdoms, Seokjin wasn’t sure that the negotiation would go as smoothly as they wanted to.

“I wish we had more peaceful times to live in,” Myungeun confessed sadly as she looked at the blossoming cherry trees, getting immersed into the scenery and the serenity of the park.

“We can’t choose when we live but we can choose who we spend our life with,” the prince added absent-mindedly but his words had quite an effect on her. The young lady came to a halt and turned to face him. Her lips were wavering and the expression on her face was one that he had never seen before. The sudden seriousness made his heart leap because he knew that she didn’t easily lose her temper or let her emotions come to surface. What happened now that she was on the verge of crying? Did he say something wrong?

The moment Myungeun opened her mouth to say something, a masculine figure showed up at the gate of the park and swiftly made his way to the two of them. They were both so in their little worlds that they didn’t even notice when the commander-in-chief – Lee Junghwan - ran up to them. Not until he addressed the prince did it finally dawn on them that he was there.

“Your Highness, we have news.”

“Tell me, Junghwan-ssi. What happened?” Seokjin raised an eyebrow at the commander-in-chief who looked like he had just finished a long run. He was quite short of breath but he insisted on telling them the whole story.

“The Crown Prince is dead,” he gulped and paused on purpose. Myungeun’s hands flew to her mouth in shock while Seokjin threw a flinch. He wanted to say that he didn’t see the tragedy coming but he actually did. The news was hard to bear but the continuation was harder. “He was killed by a soldier from Hubaekje. We were fighting against the army of Silla when we saw the flag of Hubaekje and we thought that they would help us but they didn’t. They were on Silla’s side,” he announced, his stare darting between the prince and the princess.

Both of them were utterly shocked. Myungeun couldn’t even dare to say anything. She felt ashamed. She felt trapped. The worst thing was that she felt betrayed. Even though she was aware of the fact that at times like this, deals didn’t mean a thing. Yet, she wanted to believe that if the deal concerning their marriage could be kept for 6 years, they wouldn’t break it now. She feared the consequences since her people were the ones who made the tables turn. Her father’s words suddenly crossed her mind: “If things go wrong, you can get killed, you can be used or sold.” Whatever was awaiting for her, she didn’t feel ready. Last but not least, she didn’t want to let Seokjin down.

“The King must be angry,” the boy blurted out and Junghwan bobbed his head in agreement. They knew each other for a long time, Seokjin still remembered the time when Bang Sihyuk introduced him to the new commander-in-chief and their friendship lasted until now. The only thing that was still a barrier between them was the honorifics. Junghwan persisted on using appropriate and long forms and although Seokjin hated being called Your Highness, he let him call by that name. After all, Junghwan was his friend and friends can make such deals, right?

“Actually, he’s not well. Since he received the news, he has fainted several times. He asked to see and that’s why I’m here,” the commander-in-chief pointed it out and let that sink in for a moment. The prince – the new Crown Prince – took a deep breath and repeated the action several times. He was more than anxious, he was on the edge, he was out of his mind. His thoughts were running crazily, his heart was beating like never before and his whole life seemed to collapse like a house of cards.

Yet, he didn’t want to show it. If he showed it, he would have to face reality. On top of that, reality was always cruel to him.

“Thank you, Junghwan-ssi. I’ll go into the palace,” he bowed in respect and put a friendly hand on his shoulder. “Take your time to rest a bit,” he looked into his friends’ eyes, making sure that he was doing what he asked him to do. Seokjin was delighted to see him in one piece, therefore he didn’t want him to overwork himself after such a terrible day.

Junghwan obeyed him - as an inferior and as a friend would do - as he bid his goodbye with one last smile and headed to the palace.

“I’ll wait for you here until you get back,” Myungeun cleared her throat after the other male had left and her strained voice snapped him back to his senses. He saw the hesitation running across her face, her ambivalent emotions apparent in her gestures. She had no idea what to do and he had no idea how to help her. It was the best if he went to talk to his father. After that, he might know what will be her fate.

“That might take a long time,” Jin reminded her but she merely shook her head. She was more adamant than ever and said with a confident yet scared smile:

“I know but I will still wait.”

“I will come back,” he promised her and without giving a second thought, he put his arms around her waist and hugged her. Gently, soothingly, affectionately. He touched her like it was their last time, like it was already their goodbye. Maybe it really was. At least, things were never the same after this day. Kim Seokjin was never the same after the death of the previous Crown Prince.

He promised that he would come back but he didn’t. Myungeun waited for long hours in the garden but he was already discussing possible attacks with the commander-in-chief when she decided to head into the building.

She couldn’t help but wonder why all of their promises were meant to be broken sooner or later?

🙝 6 🙞

The king was paler than ever when Seokjin entered his room. He was laying on his bed, covered with sheets. The boy predicted that he would look ill but he never even dared to assume that his father would look this ill. He could clearly see the navy-blue and mulberry-like veins through his skin; they were like oddly connected lines on a parchment paper.

When the king heard the door closing, he opened his eyes and looked at the sudden visitor. He acknowledged the boy’s presence with a firm nod and motioned him to come closer. Seokjin obeyed him and crouched down beside his bed. He seemed even more ill from up close.

“I’ve heard you wanted to see me, Your Majesty,” he started speaking, using the honorifics that he was taught to use, even with his father. Considering that the royal family didn’t consider him a relative, it wasn’t actually a surprise.

“Seokjin…” the king whispered, his voice terrifyingly raspy and somewhat dry. He looked like he was about to pass out any moment but the boy wasn’t taken aback. The royal medical man had informed the family that the king was a victim of poisoning. Someone must have put something in his food or he might have touched something that was actually contagious. Not even the psychiatric knew what had happened exactly. It was an unknown mystery to all of them.

“Yes, Your Majesty?”

“I want you to be king,” he stuttered feebly. He wasn’t his usual powerful self. He was really a dying old man; he was just like a servant who was about to see miseries of the underworld. After all, death didn’t make a difference between peasants and royals; it came to collect them, no matter their age, gender or status.

King Wanggun’s words didn’t even surprise him. He was well aware of the fact that he was the eldest of the heirs who were apparent to the throne and since he received the news of the Crown Prince’s death, he knew that he should better be prepared for a possible coronation.

What really struck him was the following:

“I want you to take over Hubaekje and Silla and create a united kingdom. That’s my last wish and as my son, I want you to fulfil it. You must fulfil it!” he emphasised with a sudden strike of energy and left Seokjin absolutely devastated.

He had no idea that his father was planning to take over the other two kingdoms as he had made a deal with both parties. In Silla’s case, it was a plain contract that ensured that they wouldn’t generate hatred between the two kingdoms, therefore no war or riot was permitted between their people. Not to mention that in Hubaekje’s case, it was his marriage with Myungeun! He may not have been 19 years old yet but a deal was a deal, he couldn’t disregard the rules, no matter what happens. Not just for the kingdom’s sake but also for Myungeun’s sake!

“But how, father? We had made a deal with both Hubaekje and Silla! How can I ignore them?” he cried helplessly but his father merely shook his head.

“Deals are meant to be ignored. They exist only until one of the parties changes their mind. Now, it’s going to be you,” the king said matter-of-factly as he vigorously grabbed the collar of Seokjin’s hanbok and brought him closer. He could see the insanity in his eyes; his orbs were filled with tons of dying stars. Red ones, bathing in the void. He was almost like a monster, there was nothing humanlike left of him. There was no need to romanticise it anymore; he was apparently on the verge of dying.

“Or you want them to make the first move and take advantage of a weak kingdom with a kid as their king? You want them to use you and your stupid bond with that girl?” he spluttered furiously, his voice gradually rising.

He was almost screaming when he mentioned that girl and Seokjin couldn’t have been angrier than that. Myungeun had been living with the royal family for 6 years and his father still couldn’t remember her name? On top of that, their bond wasn’t stupid! It was the only thing that prevented him from ending his own life when he felt like there was no reason for him to live through another day.

Reckless young man he was, he couldn’t keep his mouth shut.

“But our marriage is based on that deal and Hubaekje didn’t do anything to be conquered! They kept their words, why can’t we?”

“Our nation will become stronger but only if we unite the later three kingdoms. You could try asking them to let you take over their territory but they wouldn’t agree,” he concluded with no fear in his voice. A moment later, he started coughing again and Jin caught sight of blood on his sleeves. He coughed up blood and that could only mean one thing; death was near him. “Please, Seokjin! Make your father’s wish come true. You could make history, you are capable of doing so! I would be so proud of you if you united the later three kingdoms,” the older man now begged him and held his hands so tight that the young boy was afraid that he might break his bones.

The words left a bittersweet aftertaste in his mouth. Proud. His father had never once said that he was proud of him. Yet, all he wanted his father to do was to say some nice words to him, to acknowledge that he was his son. That he was worthy to be called the son of King Wanggun. It was like a dream coming true! He could finally make his father proud. But for what sake, came the question. Should he really conquer the two kingdoms and create a new and stronger country? Would he really be capable of such a horrendous thing?

He would. His father told him the exact same thing a second ago and even Myungeun reassured him that he would make a remarkable king. He had to make both of them proud. He had to make the nation proud. If someone couldn’t see that it was for the sake of a better and stronger country, they would definitely have to change their mind-set.

“I will do it, father. I will make you proud,” Seokjin announced fearlessly and that was enough for his father. With one last smile – or to be precise, a trace of a smile – he had passed out and never woke up again.

Nonetheless, Seokjin was more determined than ever. He immediately went to Junghwan to start talking about how they were supposed to surprise Silla in the first place and take over the dynasty. The commander-in-chief tried to talk some common sense into him but to no avail. He was on the edge; if he could, he would immediately go to the battlefield, just to make his father proud. If he couldn’t do it while King Wanggun still lived, he would do it after he had died. Either way, he would make his father’s dream come true.

After Junghwan, Seokjin rushed to discuss his coronation with the royal family’s counsellor. His mother had died a year ago, so there was no need to ask for her permission. His brothers were even younger than him, so they didn’t have a say in the matter.

Now, he only needed to talk to Myungeun and persuade her to assist him with his mission to unite the kingdoms. He was sure that he could convince her if he mentioned a better and stronger nation with all the later three kingdoms and their people. There was no need to shed blood if she agreed to help him.

Yet, a promise was a promise. Unbeknownst to him, Myungeun had already promised her people – the people from Hubaekje – that she would protect them, even if it costs her own life.

In the end, it did. She died for her people. Not for Kim Seokjin like she had always imagined.

🙝 7 🙞

The coronation took place the day after the king had died.

It wasn't a solemn, grandiose event as most of the servants were still mourning over the loss of the previous king. Not to mention that apart from Myungeun, nobody believed that he would make an appropriate ruler for several reasons. First of all, he was young, he was only 18 years old. Secondly, he was never considered to be a royal member, so they didn't prepare him for the duties of a king. Everyone claimed that he wouldn't make it. He would wither away like a cherry blossom petal being destroyed by the stormy wind.

Nevertheless, the coronation took place without any inconveniences and Kim Seokjin was now the king of Goryeo. Servants started to look at him in a different way and even his three younger brothers seemed to fear him as he was walking past them. They even crouched down before him without any kind of hesitation and tried to avert their eyes elsewhere but his face.

Even though he was told that a single status wouldn't make a change and even if he was the king he wouldn't be treated differently, everything proved this theory wrong. Yet, he believed in those lies until he saw the opposite with his own eyes. Everyone acted like he was really a new person and it fuelled his will to make his father proud and unite the later three kingdoms. He seemed unstoppable and no one, not even Myungeun was able to snap him back to his senses.

"Where are you going, Jin?" she inquired one afternoon – right after the coronation. She looked absolutely flawless in her beautiful hanbok which was made for the special occasion. She was wearing it the whole day, making it hard for him to concentrate. She looked lovely in pink and it reminded him of the times when he first said that she should wear more pink because the light colour really suits her. He was only 14 at that time and didn't care about such things as seduction or lust. However, now that the hormones were working in him, he sometimes wished that he hadn't said it all those years ago.

"I am about to unite the later three kingdoms. It was my father's last wish which I ought to fulfil," he admitted right away and not until he said his plan out loud did it finally dawn on him that Myungeun didn't even know about the conversation between him and his father. At least not until he blurted it out himself.

"Jin..." her voice trailed off and his name sounded so brittle. She was so shocked that her mouth couldn't even form words. That innocent boy who couldn't even kill a bug for the sake of his brothers' wishes wanted to rule over the later three kingdoms? Even though she knew that parents could really leave an impact on a child and its mind-set, especially in the royal families, could that lovely little Seokjin really change that much? As far as she knew, he never loved his father, so why would he want to fulfil his wish? Which wasn't just outrageous and absolutely bold but also dangerous.

"I have to do it, Myungeun," he shook his head and it was more like he tried to convince himself, not the girl in front of him. "There's no other way that I could make my father proud."

"You only do it because you want to make him proud?" she couldn't help but flinch at his choice of words. Since when did his father's words mean so much to him? Since when did his wish was primary, more important than the need of his kingdom's people and its prosperity? Since when did he care about his father?

"No," the King answered fervently but his voice obviously shook a little. Myungeun looked puzzled and tried to scan him from eye to toe. He really looked more confident, more ready to be a king but it looked like he was fighting with himself. He wasn't in peace with his own mind and the hurtful sight bothered her. She never really saw him this way.

"I also do it for the people of Goryeo. This is the only way we can make our name known and engraved into history. People will know who we were but only if we do what seemed impossible until now," he explained almost maniacally, totally immersed in his own words.

The expression on his face was anything but scared. How could he change so much in one day? The question got Myungeun thinking. Seokjin was no longer the boy he used to know. She would swear that he would never become someone like his present self. It turned out that she was wrong all along.

"Are you about to seal a deal with Silla and persuade my father to unite the kingdoms?" she whispered cautiosly, although she assumed - somewhere deep down - that he wouldn't bob his head. Something in her guts told her that it was only a foolish dream of a child and neither of them were children anymore. Or at least, not at heart.

Just as expected, Seokjin didn't nod in agreement.

"No," the devastating word left his mouth, suffocating the girl who felt like holding the weight of three kingdoms on her shoulder.

"Are you about to take over the two monarchies by taking lives and killing innocent people?" she inquired boldly, nibbling her lips in impatience.

Oh how she wished she hadn’t got her hopes up! The expression on Jin’s face could tell more than thousands of words; the sight was more than heart-breaking. He looked like he was hurt by her words, like he couldn't believe that she dared to assume that he was capable of killing people. Yet, in an instant, the innocent glint in his eyes changed and instead of the usually affectionate brown orbs, they were like wood on fire; burning and burning, not afraid to hurt others and not afraid to be burnt themselves, too.

"If that is what's necessary," he shrugged his shoulders like he was talking about a mere game, not the lives of thousands of people.

"What has gotten into you, Jin?" she cried out frantically, unable to mask her emotions. Maybe people expected her to be nonchalant to political issues but it was because she was still a minor, therefore she was taught that she didn’t have a say in the matter. However, tables turned in a blink of an eye and she was now on the verge of becoming the wife of the King of Goryeo. The coronation only involved Jin’s inauguration, nothing more. Her fate was still unknown.

"You would never say something like this before," she reminded him but to no avail. His expression didn't change a single bit, if only it got darker and more adamant than ever. Her heart churned with worry. What was she supposed to do? Should she throw all those years that they spent together out of the window? Oh no, she couldn't let it happen, so she had to talk some sense back to him. If not politically, then morally.

"Please, Jin, come back to your senses! You wouldn't want to do that to all those people. Try to find a way to save those innocent lives. I'm sure Silla would do anything to avoid picking a fight with Goryeo and I could also talk to my father," she suggested naively and her biggest fault was that she believed that what she said could be true – Seokjin could still change his mind. She couldn't see at that time that the world was the definition of cruelty and the royal family was the best example for that.

"I have to do this, Myungeun. They wouldn't let me take over their kingdoms, you know that well," he reasoned gently, his voice suddenly filled with sympathy. He even took a step closer to her and touched her shaking hands.

She was absolutely flabbergasted by the sudden skin-ship as something like this was rare between the two. It only happened when they were careless and their arms accidentally brushed each other's or when they were pressed together in a crowd. Seokjin had never tried to touch her so freely before.

"Please, understand me," he pleaded as he took her hands in his. "As the king of Goryeo, I only want the best for my people. That's the most important rule that I have to keep in mind."

"You can't possibly think that sending them to war only to get killed as targets would be the best solution!" Myungeun counter-attacked and yanked her hand away from his. She didn't want to be harsh but she didn't know the boy in front of her. It wasn't Seokjin, that light-hearted child who asked her not to call him by honorifics during their very first conversation. The one who picked colourful flower bouquets for her from the palace's garden, even though he got in trouble because of his little gifts. The one who learned martial arts just to make sure that he could protect Myungeun and himself as well. Where was that boy anymore?

"People need to be killed for greater purposes and you can also help to make that come true."

"I won't help you," she gritted her teeth and took a step back. She wasn't interested in his plans provided it was about taking the lives of innocent people. Even if it meant that it cost her life, she wouldn't want to join him. This Seokjin wasn't the one that she wanted to support.

"Don't do this, Myungeun!" Seokjin let out an aghast sigh. "You are smarter than this. If you cooperate, you and your loved ones won't get hurt. I can promise you that they will be safe," he added but she couldn't believe him anymore. More promises were broken than it was necessary and she was tired of being the one who had to suffer its consequences.

"Can you promise that my people won't get hurt?" she raised an eyebrow challengingly. The King had to think twice.

"If you mean the people from Hubaekje... then, I can't promise you that. However, if they cooperate, no one will get hurt," he flung his arms in the air in defeat but she already made her decision.

"Even if I have to die with them, I will day as the princess from Hubaekje, not as a business partner of Goryeo," she confessed without hesitation, making Seokjin more than displeased with her words.

"Then, I'll see you on the battlefield, I guess," he concluded with a fathomless smile and turned around to leave the room. As soon as he closed the door, Myungeun burst into tears.

She knew that he couldn't keep his promise. There was no way that all her relatives, herself and even Seokjin could make it out alive.

🙝 8 🙞

The road to the unison of the three kingdoms was crueller and more demanding than he had ever imagined.

It all started with a one-month preparation and a sly distraction to make sure that Silla wasn't prepared for the sudden attack. On top of that, he had never been in a war before, so he had to make sure that he and his soldiers were well-trained, let it be sword fighting, martial arts or archery. He knew how to ride a horse, therefore that couldn't be seen as a drawback. Yet, he had never tried doing archery and riding a horse at the same time but it was a must when someone was in a war – in other words, when it was a matter of life and death. He was glad that his former martial arts master − Bang Sihyuk − was the one who taught them the basics, even though he didn't seem like he really wanted to be there.

There was just something in his eyes that justified that preparing the soldiers to attack the people of Silla and then the people of Hubaekje was the last thing that he wanted to do. He was satisfied with their progress, however, he didn't look happy at all. That's when Seokjin realised that happiness and satisfaction weren't synonyms. They could be present at the same time but delightfulness didn't necessarily result in satisfaction and vice versa. His mission was to make his father proud. So could he ever be happy with the outcome? Or he just had to be proud of the result and that's all? Was there anything that he could gain from this annexation?

He didn't know the answer but he couldn't stop. He had to fulfil his father's last wish. If he wasn't a good son when the previous king was still alive and he considered that he wasn't worthy to be a part of the royal family, he would have to prove to him now that he was willing to do everything to make history because of his father.

Of course, he also doubted his abilities since he was only an 18-year-old kid who had to take responsibility for a nation when the sudden role was forced onto him the moment his father died. Plus, he had never been in any kind of fight before, he didn't have to deal with political issues and he didn't have to think twice whether he was taking a step forward. To make matters worse, he wasn't alone. Not anymore. The weight of a whole nation and the reputation of the Kim dynasty was on his shoulders.

He had to make plans as soon as possible and as efficiently as possible. Even the one-month preparation was risky since anyone could ascend the throne without his permission. Therefore, he had to leave someone behind who would make everyone believe − even his relatives − that he was there, locked up in his room, trying to get over the loss of his father and making plans for a better and stronger Goryeo. So he asked Junghwan to take his place and even though the commander-in-chief was reluctant at first, due to their long friendship, he wanted to help him. In spite of his lack of knowledge concerning the King’s plans, he trusted Seokjin. Little did he know that he trusted the old Seokjin. Not the new, cruel one.

Everything was settled, so the plan could go on. After the one-month preparation, they were finally ready to attack Silla. The war lasted for two weeks straight. Seokjin had never seen so much blood before. It was different when he saw his own blood on his hands but when he saw others' blood on his hands, he was terrified at first. Physically, he was prepared to fight against people and see others dying but so much blood had been shed in this war that he couldn't bear the sight after the first day.

As a result, he just let the trauma hunt him in his dreams and make him vomit when he couldn't take the pressure. He hated that he was so weak, so he decided that instead of letting his emotions all out, he would just suppress them. Like a bottle that one wanted to keep under the water despite the rules of physics, he didn't let the emotions come to surface. In order to do so, he ought to get rid of his human side; he rather became like a lifeless machine. One that didn't feel fear, neither joy nor gloom. One that didn't know the definition of pain or humility. And one that didn't know how to stop; the order was coded in him and there was no way that he disobeyed what he had to do. He had to succeed, even if it meant that he would have to sacrifice his whole life.

He saw blood everywhere. Crimson-red spots. Wine-like hands. Mahogany veins. Scarlet-red eyes. Cherry lips coloured with merlot lipstick. Even the stars were ruby-red. They cried fire brick tears. The rivers were painted rosy-coloured. His heart was like a red stone. Everything was red, bloody, lifeless, cruel red. Fathomless, invincible, fearless red. He became one with red. He was red.

Silla was now one with Goryeo.

As a result, the soldiers from Silla had to take their sides and assist them to take over Hubaekje. Seokjin couldn't stop there though. Not when he saw with his own eyes that he could really make a change; he could write a new chapter in the later three kingdoms’ history. He just couldn't come to a halt. The next destination was Hubaekje.

He couldn't wait to shed more blood. He was like a vampire now; if he couldn't put his hands on blood as soon as possible, he became even more evil, even more unbearable. He wasn't a human anymore, he was more like a monster. The only thing that kept him alive was pride.

Pride is there with all of us since we were born. Some of us are less likely to become narcissists and some of us are almost born as real egoists. Whereas we are all born with it, only the triggering factors can lead us to become haughty. And that triggering factor was the previous king's last words. All he wanted to have in his life was affection. All he wanted to hear that he made his father and his royal family proud. Was it too much to ask?

Hubaekje wasn't any different though. It seemed that the people were more prepared here but they could easily defeat them, too. It took them more than a month but they could defeat them.

They stayed the longest in Sabi, the capital of Hubaekje, where the Park dynasty and the most powerful soldiers were present. Unlike the rumours, Hubaekje’s army wasn't as talented as it was said to be. They fought with solemnity, pride and endurance but they were just like the people from Silla.

Except that Seokjin stopped right in his tracks when he noticed that he had just hit a familiar figure with his arrow. He was quite talented in archery but he had never imagined that he would hit someone right at the heart. The heart that once was beating for him.

"Myungeun..." his voice trailed off as he watched the girl falling off of her horse. She fell down like a little bird falling out of its nest − so slowly and innocently. She withered like the cherry blossoms at the end of the summer, saying goodbye to the world, becoming one with the ground where they were born.

Something panged in his chest while he was watching as her fragile body hit the ground. His suppressed human side found its way and his inner alarm went off. He didn't think it through when he got off his horse and ran to her. As soon as he reached her, he crouched down and started cradling her against his chest. She suddenly looked up at him, her face covered in crimson-red blood, her eyes filled with remorse and her once rosy-coloured cheeks now paler and scarred than ever. Her peachy lips were wavering.

"Myungeun, please..." he cried out helplessly but didn't exactly know what to say. Should he cry out for help? What would that say about him? What would his soldiers think? He couldn't forget that he was in the middle of a battlefield!

"Just let me go, Jin," she smiled a half-hearted and utterly sad smile, it was almost like the one before saying goodbye. The last goodbye. Their last goodbye. "I die as I always wished to be. I couldn't ask for more," she added with a hurtful flinch.

A second later, she coughed up blood and Seokjin knew by experience that she was really about to die. Yet, he couldn't think straight. His mind was blocked by flashbacks of his father who had died just like that. The exception was that he didn't kill his father with his own hands - or to be precise, with his own arrow. But he shot an arrow at her and it hit her heart. Exactly her heart.

"No, you can't."

"Why, Jin?" her voice rattled in her throat as tears were streaming down her face. Memories from their first encounter filled her mind, making her feel even more miserable. She didn't want to think about those times when he was still an innocent, light-hearted and naive boy who couldn't even defend himself, let alone annexe the three kingdoms. Those times looked so distant, so unfamiliar. It wasn't even him, she wished she hadn't even met him. The arrow that pierced through her heart didn’t only cause physical pain but emotional as well. "We broke all of our promises," she reminded him, coughing up some more blood.

Seokjin looked around frantically but he had to admit that Myungeun couldn't be helped. He knew that he was lucky that he hadn’t already gotten shot, even though the war seemed less bloody than before. Things started to cool down.

"I know I promised you that−" she stuttered quietly when she suddenly had to stop to clear her throat. The more she talked, the worse her condition got. Her tears and her blood didn't part ways, they rather became one, they went on like they were supposed to fuse.

"Don't talk, Myungeun,” he shushed the young girl who looked achingly beautiful, even on the verge of dying. “You will only make it worse," he warned her gently while he still didn’t move an inch from her dying body; he held her tight like he never wanted to let her go. Well, he didn't. Unfortunately, it was already too late. He realised only then and there, holding the fragile body of a dying soul that he loved her.

"That you won't become a narcissist," she finished her sentence that struck him like lightning. "I'm so sorry that I couldn't keep my promise," she mumbled in between little fists of laughter and apologetically smiled at him.

Just like the sun going down after shining brightly throughout the day, overcoming storms and defeating clouds, she also left this world as the most beautifully glowing creature on Earth. Her eyes unintentionally closed and her breathing slowed down until it stopped for good.

It was the first time after all those years that he could cry without being ashamed and with all the rawness he had bottled up inside. He could vividly recall the last time he cried; it was when Myungeun first shared how his father physically abused her. She was in his embrace, her tears painting the back of his hanbok, searing his paper-like skin and leaving unforgettable traces of her ever-growing kindness and fragility.

On the contrary, this time she was in his arms again with the deadly arrow that he had sent through her heart, saying sorry for one last time.

Not like she was the one who needed to apologise.

#bts #jin #bts scenarios #jin scenarios #seokjin scenarios #bts imagines #jin imagines #seokjin imagines #bts historical #jin historical #seokjin historical #bts demon au #seokjin demon au #jin demon au #my story #restlessmaknae

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edgeofmyniall · 5 years

Text

a niall horan one shot

13k words

Heat.

That was the first thing I felt when I met Niall.

It’s not the physical presence of fever that I felt, per say, when I met him, although it was there. His body reaked of heat from the days he spent in the glowing sun where the shining ball of hot gas roasted his skin into a tanned glow, but it was the invisible presence of our words, the way we talked to one another that brought the heavy weight of warmth between us. His touch burned my cool skin for the first time where his palm grasped my wrist so tenderly I almost didn’t turn back to look at him, but it was an internal scar I’m willing to bear for the rest of my life if it meant that the heat stayed between us.

And it did.

The fire between us,as we grew to know each other, burned brightly as the only source of light in the night. We found that we were similar in some aspects of our lives: we both like sports, we’re both foodies, and we tend to look at the world with kindness, and lastly, we are both sarcastic assholes.

Our differences made us appreciate each other as well. Where he can stun a room into quietness, the world tends to fold in on me when I’m in a full room of people. He is loud where I am quiet. He is outgoing where I try to avoid speaking to anyone if at all possible.

We both tend to think that the universe put us together for a reason instead of a season because no matter what occurs in our lives, we’re still there for each other.

Our personalities mesh well together. We know what each other is thinking and sometimes we tend to finish each other's sentences. Our differences complement each other. He would lead me through crowds and talk enough for the both of us. I would laugh louder than him and grab enough beers while grocery shopping for the two of us. There was something more than environmental about us.

But what we chose was merely physical.

Niall’s fingers melt the coolness of my skin when he touches me, and like ice on a hot day, my body dissolves into his when we around on another. We chose this life- to always sweat and melt and cool off with each other with no responsibilities or repercussions. We were without any explanation, friends with benefits.

Often times I find myself lonely in my apartment. I share the space with only my dog who might as well be oblivious to the fact that I’m even alive as of all the times I have come home to him sleeping halfway on the couch. In these times of loneliness I call up Niall to come over. There are times where I go to his home and share the same space with him for the weekend, but I’m out of my comfort zone when I’m not home. Afraid to touch and break anything of his, I normally take up little space as possible to minimize the percentage of me becoming embarrassed. I am quiet. I speak softly and tenderly. And along with the fact that he has roommates.

At home, I take up as much space as I want and leave little to no room for fear. If I break it, oh well. I am loud, louder than I should be. I tell when I talk, and scream when I yell. And I like to think Niall likes to see this side of me, so when I ask him to come over, he does without hesitation.

At first he used to pack a bag for the night or weekend long fuck fest that we partake in, but after leaving small things like his toothbrush, his phone charger, and his decent hair gel, I made room for him. He has his own drawer in my dresser, his own shampoo and soap in my shower, his own food in my pantry as if he divides his time between my house and his. He calls my apartment his second home, but it’s more like his third if we’re being rational. He knows where I keep my silverware and my good plates for the few guests I have, but most importantly he knows where I keep my hidden chocolate and when he sees I’m running low, he grabs some go replenish.

As I grew to know Niall, the nervousness died. My words wouldn’t stumble over themselves. My body wouldn’t shakily involuntarily as I talked to him on the phone. My heart stopped beating against its cage like a prisoner locked inside a cell. He turned from my trembling desire to my steady peace. My words flow like velvet when I speak to him, confident and known. My body only trembled under his touch, and my heart… my heart still is trying to break away from its cavity.

Tonight was one of those nights that I was drowning in loneliness, like the ocean of singleness had swallowed me up and spat me out into the rough waves and currents of being by myself. And it’s not that I don’t like being by myself, I do; I just hate feeling lonely.

The music blared through the speakers that hung on my living room walls- the bass and melody trembling down the painted sheet rock. I’m sure I will get a noise complaint soon, but for the moment, I want to drown out the lifelessness of my apartment. The sun's rays beat down into my safety as I look past the City of Angels. Los Angeles was always busy. To me, it was the city that never sleeps, but to others it was the land of equal opportunity. It was when I moved to LA that I met Niall through mutual friends. He found me sitting with my back against the wall playing Mario Kart on my phone while everyone else danced on the LED flooring of some bar that we had all met at.

-----

“Wanna dance?” the newest manboy I met looked down at me as I won the last lap of Mario Kart. He was handsome in a rugged sense; I could see why many of the girls flocked to him. He was smooth with his words and like velvet with the way he moved. Confident. Eager. He was something I had never seen before.

“I don’t really dance,” I was louder than I wanted to be when talking to someone I barely know, but the music would not die down for any conversation.

“One song, and then I’ll spend the rest of the night not worryin’ if ya had a good time or not,” he quirked his brow up and his devious smile folded into his face. I knew that even if I said no, this would not be the last of Niall Horan.

“Yeah, that’s exactly what you’re worried about,” I rolled my eyes before getting up. He stood taller than me, only by a few inches, and I could smell the hunger on him. His burnt orange shirt meshed well his tanned skin that glowed under the dim bar lights.

“Oi, she’s got a bit of bite in this one!” Niall laughed deeply. I brushed past his outstretched hand and felt a jolt of electricity current coursing through my body. I looked back at him before smiling with only one side of my mouth and asked, “You coming?”

Niall’s hips fit into mine like a groove. Our bodies were made for each other. He took my hips into his hands and swayed back and forth as my back touched his stomach. His hot breath left its imprint on my skin as he whispered into my ear sweet nothings. His mouth found its home on my neck and that is the spark of the fire.

When the song ended its course, I thought it best to leave now or my world would change paths. As I tried walking away, I felt the ginger touch of Niall’s palm on my wrist. He was hanging on by a thread, and I felt my soul on fire.

——-

The white front door swung open to Niall holding a bag of clean clothes and more toothpaste, letting the booming bass escape my fortress. He smiled at me as I stood, pantless, in the empty wooden floored hallway with only my socks covering my lower body.

He had a key. He asked one day after weeks of being friends without strings attached if I wanted a key to his house. I hesitated, but finally gave in when his eyes lit up in the slightly darkened room at the idea of swapping keys after fucking intense enough to exhaust all parts of our body except communication. His smile reached his ears as he gave his excuse for exchanging keys: “Incase ya ever miss me when I’m gone.” But now, my sheets smell like Niall, and I never want to leave bed.

I stood with my back to Niall as I let the music fill me. Whenever Rihanna comes on my playlist, my body moves in ways I didn’t know possible. I sway my head back and forth with my eyes closed to let the words touch my soul, something music has always done to me. It’s when I turn around to see Niall leaned against the hallway wall that I jump.

“Hello, lover,” Niall’s playful name for me rings my heart, and it hurts- good or bad, I don’t know.

“Hi,” I say softly as I turn the volume down with my remote. “You scared me.” He looks me up and down with an intrigued look on his face: a soft smile, a cocked brow, and eyes wandering.

“Nice look ya got there,” his arms are crossed as his left cheek folds into his grin. “Is this a summer look we’re going for, or a- is that my shirt?” Niall cuts himself off of his own question. I roll my eyes.

“I can’t fit into your shirts. Ya girl has thighs, gut, and boobs. Remember?” I turn around to leave for the living room

“Oi, I remember,” the starving words hit me like a wrecking ball. He followed me, those feet of his glided across my hardwood floor as if it belonged to him. I felt his hand grab my hips gently and he pulled me into the same position that we had been in so long ago. My back lay flat on his torso and I could almost feel his heartbeat or was that the music? I rested my head in the crook of his neck, my hair falling against his skin. The slow song hums through our moments. It’s about love- something I have for Niall, but the same could not be said for him. Or can it?

His right hand is holding my stomach that hangs out slightly. I used to be nervous about this, but this is where Niall’s hands always rest. I grab his hand and turn his hand palm up. I place my hand onto his palm and feel all but the jolt of electricity hit my skin. He holds up our touching palms and examines the pair. His fingers loom over mine and where my fingers are frail, his are thick. His calloused fingertips hover over the top of my fingers. I smile.

“Your hands are bigger than mine,” I state the obvious. My heart swells at the thought of him.

“They got to be. To handle you,” Niall laughs deeply and his smile melts into my burning skin. I’ve got myself into deep and I’d drown in the essence of him.

A Whitney Houston song plays, but, in our solstice, we stay. It’s the unspoken hunger that ravages us. I want him. I need him.

Niall pushes the dip in my sides with both hands and guides me to the floor. It’s when I turn to look at him one last time that I see his blue eyes go dark.

My chest and stomach are pushed flat on the floor before Niall undresses himself. His clothes are left in a pool by our bodies, but they are long forgotten when he yanks my shirt off with the driving lust.

“Lift your ass up,” Niall’s husky voice rings in my ear and I feel his cool finger slide in between my legs. He rubs my clit gently in a hasty circular motion, but I’m already wet for him. I’ve been waiting for him.

“Yer so wet fer me, princess,” his accent grows thicker by the minute and I feel his hard cock press against me. “Ya want this?” I nod my head to stifle a moan. “Yeah ya do.” He takes his dick and pushes gently into my opening. Pressure builds and without warning, he slides out. I whine and look back at him, pouting.

“Please,” I beg. The half smirk dies and his mouth parts as he breathes hard. He wants it too.

He slowly pushes himself inside me and I feel the thrust drive deeper as he moves. His body hovers over mine as we lay on the floor. I push myself ass against his hips, letting him go deeper.

His right hand wraps around my chest to cling to my left arm, pushing me closer to him, to breathe me in. He moans against my skin.

“Fuck me, harder,” I breathe. My body is tense, and I feel the fire burning in my abdomen. “I need you.”

The fire is burning between us and I want to dowse myself in the flames.

His nails dig into my skin as he thrusts deep and hard, quickening is pace. I begin to feel a pinching feeling that overpowers the pressure of euphoria.

“Ow, babe, can...you?” Niall slips out of me before I can finish my question.

“You okay? Did I hurt ya?” The tender words wrap around me as he caresses my head. I nod.

“Yeah, maybe not put all of your body weight on me?”

Niall sinks into me again, pushing himself deep. Both of his palms are face down on the wood floor, pinning my body down. He delves as his entire cock is inside my wetness. I feel ripples of fire pulsating through my body and I grab Niall’s wrists digging my nails into his skin. My body tenses as my legs shake involuntarily as the trails of my fire burn out.

“I’m...gonna cum,” Niall’s thrust becomes rapid and out of rhythm as he pushes himself until he pulls out as let’s his undoing spurt onto my ass.

He lays down beside me, naked, on the cold hardwood floor. We let the music speak for us before either one says a word.

“Do ya… do ya ever think of when we met?” he asks.

“No, not really,” I lie. The moment is etched in my memory like a tattoo, permanent. I’ll never forget it. The silence that follows is ear shattering.

“I do.” Niall blurts. “All the time.”

“Really?” My heart jumps.

“My life changed. I had to get ya out of yer shell. Couldn’t have ya sitting in a bar by yerself,” he laughs as he caresses my hair behind my ear.

“No seriously, petal. You’ve changed me. I wanna be more than this,” his shaking hands wave between our naked bodies. “unless you don’t want to?” Niall’s breath is void. He’s holding it for my answer, and I’m bursting at the seams to give it. I smile and kiss him gently on his lips.

“Of course, my lover.”

#niall #niall horan #niall au #niall horan au #niall imagine #niall horan imagine #niall smut #niall horan smut #niall oneshot #niall horan oneshot

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amyscascadingtabs · 4 years

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✨creator tag meme✨

i’ve been tagged in this by @feeisamarshmallow @dolston17 and @arnies-bitch and i love doing these every year (self love!) so, even though this year has been a year of far less fic-writing for me for various reasons... here goes ❤️

Rules: It’s time to love yourselves! Choose your 5 (ish) favorite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought into the world in 2020. Tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome works!

listed chronologically in terms of date published;

💫 i’ll walk through hell with you

i know i chose this one last year as well, BUT, i did write and publish the two-three last chapters of this in 2020 so i’m including it again. i’m so freaking proud of this one. it was an experience to write and i did SO much research and i had such fun with it. writing the two last chapters was such a high and i remember i wrote the sixth one in like three days where i just couldn’t stop. it was also the last fic i wrote and published with my original peraltiago kiddos leah and olivia santiago-peralta and it was lovely to get to say goodbye to them in style. plus the way i literally predicted trying.. my mind ❤️ (i do have a document of the similarities and how i worded it vs how the show did it... if any fan of this is curious)

a favourite quote:

But what I was actually trying to say was…” Jake blushes, and she can tell there’s a moment of emotional sincerity coming. “I’m with you. I know that. I also know that as long as I’m with you, all the bad stuff is survivable, and all the good stuff is a million times better. And I’d rather have hard days with you, and Lee, and I guess soon whoever this is,” he holds his hand to her stomach through her sweater, “than good days with anyone else.”

“Me too,” she snivels, having to wipe the tears on her shirt sleeve because of course, this is making her cry. “How’d you get so wise all of a sudden?”

“Married you,” he shrugs. “And had kids. Also, I got hella old.”

💫 paper cut stings from our paper-thin plans

was this possibly the only fic i wrote this year that was (almost) baby-free? probably. i blame it on season 7. but yes; i wrote a fic about rosa dealing with her breakup from jocelyn and it was great fun and made me want to write even more rosa (which i did!). she’s just great, and writing her with amy is incredible. plus, i got such amazing guidance from @vernonfielding with this one which i think truly brought out the best in this story.

a favourite quote:

“I hate it,” Rosa mutters. “I didn’t get a fucking choice. I never knew how much of a difference that made.”

“Well, now you know. It sucks. But...” Amy leans her head to the side. “Maybe that’s a good thing, too?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“If it hurts, that means it mattered, right? If you miss something, then there was something to miss in the first place. It means you opened yourself up and built something of meaning with someone. I know that doesn’t make it easier -”

Rosa snorts. “No, it doesn’t.”

“But it might mean that something can matter again,” Amy says, fixing her eyes on Rosa’s. “Someday. Even if it feels impossible right now.”

💫 bracing for the winds i always summon

we all know i love some sweet amy content... this was one of the things i wrote early on in covid quarantine life, and it brings out a lot of memories. i do still consider going back and editing the last parts so they can fully agree with canon, but i’ve not had the energy quite yet. either way, i’m really proud of the way i wove canon and minor episode details into this one. we got such limited pregnant amy content and i wanted more! i’ve reread this one a ton of times, because it’s just.. satisfying to me. i answered a lot of my own questions in it. filling in the holes!!

a favourite quote:

She’s felt protective of this life since the day she found out about it, but it’s a great and positive change to be able to feel like she’s starting to know the child she’s protecting. She doesn’t know his name, although it keeps being debated, or what he looks like aside from the gray-and-white sonogram pictures, but she knows he’s most awake at night before they go to bed and that he moves like crazy to the sound of Jake humming renditions of his favorite Taylor Swift-tunes to him, and it feels like the most important information she’s ever known about someone.

Maybe she’s okay at making babies, Amy thinks. She’s wholly certain this child is too good for her, is still worried he’ll be taken away at a moment’s notice, but right now he’s here, and he’s making her want to try her best.

💫 (three times ‘cause) i’ve waited my whole life

i didn’t write very much this summer for several reasons, but what little motivation i had for writing, mostly went to this one. it was originally meant to be for father’s day and i published it in september, so i missed out slightly there, but i’m still really proud of it. writing jake and his feelings about fatherhood is something i’ve always enjoyed so much, and this was 13k words of doing just that. i’m proud of so much in this fic, and i’m really happy i actually finished it in the end. god i love jake and baby mac ❤️

a favourite quote:

Jake is amazed by how much better fatherhood has gotten with time. It was always the most amazing thing to ever happen to him, but it was so different when his son was a newborn. Mac was rarely awake for the first weeks, and when he was, he was either stuck to Amy for feeding or crying because he was overtired or needed his diaper changed. Jake always loved his son, but for the first month or so, he felt pretty useless around him. The daily attempts at bottle-feeding, and the precious times Mac fell asleep against his Jake’s chest as they walked around the apartment at night, had made up most of their bonding time together. It was still wonderful, and Jake can miss the time when Mac actually stayed where you put him, but in the end, it’s got nothing on what fatherhood is like at eight months in. Now, Mac interacts with them, laughing and smiling and trying to babble gibberish back at them when they talk to him. He’s always on the move, like he’s anxious to miss out on anything the world has to offer if he sits still for too long. Judging from the way he’s currently trying to use the tree next to them to get up to a standing position, Jake wonders how long they’ve got left until he’s walking. It’s clear that Mac has his own personality now, no longer just traces of it hidden in a newborn’s constant needs, and every day of fatherhood seems to bring a new adventure.

There had been a time when Jake wasn’t sure if he wanted this. Little did he know, it’s better than anything he could have dreamt.

💫 when all your heroes get tired (i’ll be something better yet)

last but not least, my second sleuth sisters fic of the year and second rosa fic too! i’ve thought about writing this since i watched lights out; i love writing rosa and amy so much and it’s always fun to write jake and amy from someone else’s perspective, especially as i think the choice by the show to have them keep their pregnancy private when everyone had already figured it out was so interesting. i love supportive rosa and i love the relationship she’s going to have with mac and i love her secretly loving babies. they’re so cute it’s fucked up!!!! anyway, yeah; i love writing rosa and this was such a fun challenge.

a favourite quote:

There’s a tenderness even to the way she speaks to him, like love is packed into each word. Rosa thinks of the way Amy hid her pregnancy for months in fear that something would go wrong, and how scared she was that giving birth under less than ideal circumstances would somehow make her a bad mom. She doesn’t seem as scared anymore. Rather, there’s an air of quiet confidence over her when she’s holding him, and it’s moving to see.

“Slow down, McClane,” she whispers, thumb stroking over his cheek. “I know you’re hungry, but if you keep going like that, you’re going to puke, okay? We’ve been through this.”

“I’m proud of you,” the words spill out of Rosa, and Amy blinks.

“You’re proud of me?”

“Yeah, I’m proud of you.” A shy smile flutters across Amy’s lips. “But if you ever have another kid, I’m not going near you a month before you’re due, okay? I’ll transfer precincts or something. Never again.”

Amy laughs, but Rosa just stares at her, and she goes silent. “Got it. Cool. That’s fair.”

tags 2019/2018 ❤️

i’m tagging @johnny-and-dora, @letsperaltiago, @amydancepants-peralta, @b99peraltiago and @nessa007 to do some self love over any creations this year you're proud of ❤️❤️❤️

#my writing #johanna talks writing #tag games

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creamypudding · 4 years

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Word counts

380,673 - That’s the current total word count and I still have 1 chapter left to mostly rewrite. I’m under 20k away from hitting 400k for this fic and I'm like 'I'll never manage that in the last chapter' and then I laugh. And then I tell myself firmly 'No! NO! DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE ATTEMPT IT!!' It’s not a challenge on how many words I can spew out. It’s not. It never is. I never sit there going ‘I”m gonna create a fic with X amount of words!’. I sit down and go ‘I’m gonna write a fic that hits these story beats with these themes and emotional highs and lows.’ And the word count goes up and I look at it all baffled like ‘whoa, how even did this happen?’ (and Kermit singing ‘Once in a lifetime’ plays in the background of my head) But then I get close to whole round numbers and the competative side of me wakes up and goes ‘you can hit that. Go on. GO ON!’ But never to the detriment of the story. I don’t go ‘what pointless crap can I shove in here to pad this out?’ Mind you, some people might find things in my story and go ‘was this REALLY necessary?’ - usually referring to the copious amounts of sex the characters have after much turmoil is achieved. And, granted, some of it (80%) is self-indulgent and hell, it’s my story, I’ll indulge in whatever the fuck I want, but generally speaking - in my head - it still serves a purpose. It’s still telling the story, it’s still enriching the characters lives. And I make my characters suffer a lot. A fucking metric tonne of a lot. So excuse me for making them happy, and showing the world how happy they are rather than telling it in a 100 word summary.

Anyway... what am I saying? Word count... That total is inclusive of the 13k I have already down for the last chapter. So to achieve that 400k I’d need to write over 30k and that is truly NOT DOABLE! I had one chapter that was 40k - don’t ask, but please think of my poor beta! - I split that chapter into two. I’m 99% sure I won’t hit 400k. I have two new scenes to add to the last chapter, but 30k of writing is just not gonna happen. No way. No. Fucking. Way. But then... I look at ch 27 which I had to re-write. I had about 4k of pre-written stuff and now ch 27 is 28k long (I’m sorry to all my readers. I’m gonna be wasting your entire day with these chapters when they come out). But ch 27 was a special case. I knew I had to write a lot. And as I was writing I found all these new things to write about and explore, which is why this baby is now a full-grown mammoth of a chapter.

Again, pretty sure this won’t happen to ch 28. But there is that 1% chance it might. I’m kind of hoping I can crack 400k, because -again- nice round, big numbers get me excited - but I’m not gonna ruin my precious story or bore the brains out of my readers to get there. If I can get close with this re-write then awesome. Chances might be that I can still hit 400k as I edit and upload the next 8 chapters because before I post I always do last minute edits and rewrites. So while I can’t beef up ch 28 I’ll probably pump up the words in the previous chapters as I post them so... who knows. 400k... I might be seeing you real soon. And if not then... that’s okay too. I must never forget that the first draft of this story was only 146,832 words. I made sure to keep a track of that before I went on my 3 month posting hiatus 🤭

🎵 And you may find yourself 🎵 Living in a shotgun shack 🎵 And you may find yourself 🎵 In another part of the world 🎵 And you may find yourself 🎵 Behind the wheel of a large automobile 🎵 And you may find yourself with a beautiful fic 🎵 With a beautifuly big word count 🎵 And you may ask yourself, well 🎵 How did I get here?

#writing update #writerblr #word count

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janus-stanus · 4 years

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It Seemed the Better Way

Rating: Teen and Up | Category: General, Angst, Character Study

Characters: Virgil and Janus, + a Remus cameo (and maybe someone else?)

Setting: Half when Virgil and Janus were around 10 years old; half in early July 2017, right before the Season 1 finale

Summary:

Years and years ago, Virgil came to Janus with a problem. They both swore themselves to secrecy. In doing so, Janus discovered his purpose. Now, as Virgil looks back on that decision, Janus comes to him with some questions. This time, they don’t see eye to eye. Virgil has to pick a side. He chooses neither.

Content warnings:

Imaginably standard for fics about Virgil choosing to duck out, but we get into his self-hatred and wanting to disappear

Homophobia (the characters don't literally experience it but the description of it is fairly intense)

Spider-related body horror, not much more extreme than Patton turning into Lilypadton though

And temporary possession

AO3 Link (13k words, one chapter + a short epilogue)

Because the fic is so long and mostly one part, I won’t be straight up posting it here to tumblr. Fortunately, you don’t need an AO3 account to read it. I will put the first ~1,700 words below the cut as a preview (plus the taglist). Since this is my first complete Sanders Sides fic, reblogs, kudos, and comments would be greatly appreciated! Hope you enjoy!

[props to @books-are-cool for beta reading the fic for me!]

Virgil had to steel himself before entering Janus’s room. It always unsettled him how empty yet cheery it was. The daffodil yellow walls and carpet, plus the faint scent of lemon air freshener, made him queasy, and there was nothing else to add any character or additional color. The one object that wasn’t a yellow-tinted carry-over from Thomas’s bedroom was the cushioned yellow chair Janus was currently lounging in. He seemed to have dozed off in it, still in his black pants, bright yellow polo shirt, and sparkly dark purple waistcoat. The sight made Virgil feel somewhat underdressed in his lilac pajamas.

The door shut behind him, and Janus’s eyes fluttered open. When he saw the intruder, dragging behind him a thin black blanket patterned with skulls, he let out a beleaguered yawn.

“Yes, Virgil?”

He approached cautiously, rubbing his fingers against his safety blanket to calm his nerves. He did his best to block the clips of the evening broadcast from his mind for the moment. Instead, he forced eye contact with Janus, and, in a hushed tone, spat out the words that had plagued him for the past hour:

“Is Thomas gay?”

“…What? You mean, does he like guys? No, obviously,” Janus retorted as he rubbed his eyes. However, when he lowered his hands and saw the sincere concern in Virgil’s face, he paused.

“Are you sure?”

Present-day: Early July 2017

It’s a quarter past midnight, and Virgil finds himself in a paradox. His body has dissolved into jello and cries out to sink into bed, yet it turns to stone whenever he even thinks of leaving his post. His face sags like melting wax, but his eyes remain wide open, staring with laser intensity into the formless darkness of his room.

Usually, it’s easy for him to pin down the origin of his fatigued insomnia; some issue he blew out of proportion during the day, or a potential problem lurking on the horizon. Not this time. It was a good day. Just like yesterday, and the day before, and every other day in the past week. It’s standard for Thomas, and presumably the other three, but for Virgil specifically? It’s the first time in Thomas’s adult life that he’s experienced this level of calm. He could get used to it - if it didn’t come with the itching need to do something about it, to tear back the curtain and drag out the monsters lying in wait, to make himself useful. In combination, he’s left with a light, murky haze of apathy filling in the gaps where his emotions should be, creating the sensation of him slowly rising into the air. He needs to feel something. He wants to feel bad.

So he slides off the desk into the leather chair, closes out of the Evanescence playlist on his laptop, and pulls up the video that has rooted itself in the back corner of his mind. While it was uploading, it was the typical brand of anxiety that made it monopolize his attention. As Joan and Thomas had said, coming out was something you’ll never be done doing; however, this video was as close to a final statement of intent as anything would be. There was no turning back from here, no more lying hiding. And, even this many years on, he was still terrified of the fallout.

However, now that it’s immortalized on the web and thousands of unknowable eyes and ears have consumed it, with comments still rolling in by the dozens, the uneasy feeling wracking his body is of a different nature. Because they love the video, of course they do. The online community that has formed around Thomas never ceases to amaze him. Just a year or two ago he’d have laughed at the idea that he’d choose to scroll through the comments on one of Thomas’s posts, but here he is, once again proving his visions of the future wrong. It’s the most he’s smiled in years (though the competition for that honor has been more heated recently than it was for a long, long time).

He scrolls past multiple “I’m here, I’m queer” jokes, compliments for everyone who took part, proud declarations of identity, and allies sharing their support. Those all warm his heart, but the ones which make him pause are the uplifting coming out stories: people who opened up to friends and found they have more in common than they knew; people who gathered the courage to have the talk with their parents (not in the foolhardy way he had, god no, he has yet to watch through the video without skipping that part); people who found acceptance in their communities, even religious ones, even at school. And more than that, people, total strangers from every corner of the globe, who claim Thomas as an inspiration for them living their truths.

It’s those comments that trigger the uneasy feeling. That, and whenever the word “repression” resounds in his headphones like a high-pitched whistle.

Virgil lives in the negative. He deals not just in apprehension and fear, but in embarrassment, regret, and guilt; and he exaggerates each instance by his nature. But this whirlpool in his gut is the result of more than just one bad memory, one isolated failure. It was a chain of choices that formed the armor which has since fused to his bones; actions taken and opportunities passed over, things said and unsaid, truths suffocated and lies that gained a life of their own,

“You called?”

Virgil slams the laptop shut almost hard enough to shatter the screen. He flicks the desk lamp on, then swivels his chair to face the intruder, shaking his head a few times to part his bangs.

“...Janus.” Not the bad feeling he was looking for.

“You remembered,” he grins, an artificial glimmer in his eyes. He takes a second to adjust his capelet and ensure that the golden clasps on his shirt are perfectly in place. “Forgive me for the lack of professionalism, I had to take care of, a thing.”

From the way he says ‘thing’, Virgil knows exactly who he’s talking about. Some things never change. “You couldn’t have knocked first?”

“I thought we were beyond that point in our relationship,” Janus pouts, putting his hand to his chest. “You’re not going to kick me out, are you?”

“Depends,” Virgil responds, without missing a beat, as he pulls his headphones off his ears and tosses them onto the desk. “Why are you here?”

“To talk.”

“About what?”

“...I was hoping you would take the lead on that front,” Janus says, “You’ve always been so good at that. But if it’s up to me, I suppose I could provide a starting point.” He makes a show of glancing around the dimly lit room, recoiling slightly at the inexplicable smell of lavender and expired Halloween candy, before he locks his gaze on the anxious side with the most neutral smile he can muster. “What are your feelings on last month’s ‘Having Pride’ video?”

Virgil huffs as his body tenses. He wants to say ‘fine’, but then he remembers who he’s talking to. “In all honesty? They’re mixed.”

“Really?” Janus gasps, with all the subtlety of a piano plummeting from a third-story window. “I’m, quite frankly, astounded to hear that from you. Why?”

Virgil rolls his eyes. “Look,” he hisses, “I don’t know what you’re hoping to get out of this, but we are not going there.” He flips up his hood and spins the chair a full 180 degrees. “Good to see you, now get out. Maybe try again another time.”

For a moment, the room goes quiet, music to Virgil’s ears. Then Janus fires back, with words like daggers:

“If you say so. It’s all water under the bridge now. Just, don’t sit there and make yourself out to be the victim.” When he gets no reaction, he gives a final thrust: “I did it for you, remember?”

Virgil’s hands clamp down on the armrests. He tries not to say anything, to just let him have the satisfaction of having the last word and leave. But the last statement out of his mouth devolves into outright mockery as it echoes in his ears, begging to be challenged.

In the blink of an eye, he rises and sharply turns to face his opponent. “You keep on saying that,” he growls, leaning in with his arms crossed atop the back of the chair, “But you and I both know it stopped being true a long time ago - if it ever was true.”

Janus’s eyes narrow. He briefly flashes his fangs, but he bites his tongue. Instead, he plants one hand on the chair, as if throwing down a dueling glove, then shoves it toward the other wall. Virgil catches his balance just before he’s sent tumbling forward, his hood sliding back down.

“Apologies, let’s try that again,” the scaly side smirks. “You were saying?”

Virgil takes a moment to refocus his frustration. “How mature of you,” he mumbles (not that he should have expected better from him). Then he jerks his head up so he can drill his eyes into the snake’s as he continues. “I won’t pretend I wasn’t in on it to start, because believe it or not I’m better than that. Thing is, I realized later that it was a terrible idea, that it would only make things worse in the long run, for all of us. So I asked you to give it up. Did you listen? Of course not. And you never said why you couldn’t, you just-”

“Because you knew,” Janus cuts in, his voice sparking with indignation, everything else about him suddenly stone cold. “You knew exactly why.”

All Virgil can do is stare blankly back at him. While he waits for further clarification, he idly notices the dark smudges fading in under the other side’s eyes.

Janus cocks his head in turn, scanning every inch of Virgil’s clueless face. He opens and closes his mouth a few times. When he fails to find the words, his arm begins moving with a will of its own.

Virgil notices the trembling hand in his peripheral vision right before it lands on his shoulder. He takes an abrupt step back, and from the depths of his subconscious something roars, “Don’t you dare t-”

And it clicks.

END OF PREVIEW

If you want to read the rest, here’s the AO3 link again!

TAGLIST: (massive thanks to @the-taglist-repository!)

@smileyzs @robinwritesshitposts @thatgaydemigodnerd @arya-skywalker @itsabsurd-and-terrifying @potatsanderssides @legendsgates @demoniccheese83 @rainbowbowtie @kieraelieson @star-crossed-shipper @a-fandom-trashdump @just-your-typical-trans-guy @idont-freaking-know @katelynn-a-fan @dwbh888 @royal-stormcloud @ananonsplace @ollyollyoxinfree @brain-deadx0 @the-grounded-raven @grouptalekindnesssoul @the-hoely-bleach @anvil527up @fanficloverinthesun

#thomas sanders #sanders sides #it seemed the better way #virgil sanders #janus sanders #raven writes

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almaasi · 5 years

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yoooooooooo, I’m in need of a beta (or betas) for my Garak/Bashir fics since all my usual proofreaders are busy.

summaries/warnings for 4 completed fics are listed under the cut. total word count is 111k+. all are rated ‘explicit’ except for one ‘mature’.

my previous fics are here if you want to know how I write.

preferably I’m looking for someone who can beta all of them, and more fics that come after this, but anyone who can do a one-off is cool too. I definitely want someone who’s good at suggesting things in the name of intersectional feminism and reader sensitivity! or just questioning things and commenting in general. catching typos or confusing sentences would be a huge bonus but that’s not my priority~

please share this with people you think might be interested!!!

fics listed longest first, not necessarily the ideal posting order. some of these have been lightly or partially beta’d already.

1. The Wolf Who Cried Doctor

Elim Garak/Julian Bashir, Julian Bashir & Ezri Dax

55k, Explicit

Garak is certain: any day now, Julian will discover that the most frequent visitor to DS9’s Infirmary has been going out of his way to fake, cause, and invite harm unto himself in order to gain his dear doctor’s attention. Garak cheerfully tells his lies with just enough variation to remain interesting, but remains afraid that one day Julian won’t believe him when there’s really something wrong.

But Julian is already aware there’s a problem. And the best treatment for an acute case of touch-starved loneliness, he believes, is to provide Garak with as much physical affection and emotional care as possible. It’s not like Julian couldn’t do with some company himself, given how his relationship with Ezri has been fraying.

But neither Julian nor Garak envisioned what could come of it all. Neither of them ever prepared for bliss.

(A post-canon fic where Garak comes back to DS9 and feelings happen.)

Tags: non-endgame pairing:, Julian Bashir/Ezri Dax, side pairings: Ezri Dax/Kira Nerys, Kira Nerys/Keiko O'Brien/Miles O'Brien, Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Happy Ending, Angst, Self-Harm, Depression, Mutual Pining, Friends to Lovers, (Julian and Garak), Lovers to Friends, (Julian and Ezri), Sharing a Bed, Cuddling & Snuggling, Massage, Holding Hands, First Kiss, Touch-Starved Elim Garak, Lonely Elim Garak, Jealous Elim Garak, Garak is the quadrant’s most melodramatic drama queen, Lonely Julian Bashir, Bisexual Julian Bashir, Julian’s Foot Fetish, Ezri Ships It, Supportive Ezri Dax, Matchmaker Ezri Dax, Love Triangle, except it’s a tangle of lines, Polyamory, Communication is Hard but Vital, Replicator Malfunctions, Space Station Antics, First Time, Bottom Julian Bashir, Top Elim Garak

Warnings: Garak self-harms (nothing gory or graphic - just hot tea + gravity, improper handling of sewing tools, baiting others to use brute force, purposefully ingesting questionable foodstuffs; scars from past cutting) - but for most of the story he doesn’t think his actions are troublesome, merely viewing self-harm as a means to an end to acquire the physical comfort and emotional attention that he craves from Julian. (Disclaimer: I’m aware this is not the only reason real people might self-harm, but it’s Garak’s reason.)

Unspecific suicidal ideation (Julian tells Garak off and Garak’s like “welp! guess I’ll die now”). Both Garak and Julian are wildly depressed and lonely - and I swear that Ezri, the O’Briens, and I are trying our darnedest to rescue them, but they both have a tendency to spiral into a vortex of doom without talking to anyone about it, so it’s not the easiest thing to do. >:|

Foot fetish is mild but... y’know, present. (Oh, Julian.)

Regarding polyamory/love triangle tags (spoilers ahead!): Julian loves Ezri A LOT but doesn’t realise it’s in a platonic friendship way, and privately ties himself in knots over not being sexually or romantically attracted to her anymore (if he ever was to begin with). Much panicking about unintentional cheating happens, because he’s accidentally in love with Garak while dating Ezri - except (more spoilers) Ezri is trying to set him up with Garak anyway. Ezri is totally poly and way more chill than 99% of people would be in her position. Past Kira/Keiko/Miles.

Special note I mentioned to current betas: you should probably know that i feel some sort of divided way about how ezri is SO accepting of julian's disaster sexuality, because a) i've never once seen any character react like that, ever, in anything fictional or real (potentially bc of lack of bi and poly rep), and b) her reactions are based on how i would react in her place??? (note that i'm aro, ace, and bi, (well that's simplified) so if i was in a relationship with julian it would definitely be platonic but me being madly attracted to him despite that) so it's like... really personal but also i'm worried nobody would relate and would say i made her a pushover. so any pointers you have there would be lovely <3

2. Runabout Rollabout

Elim Garak/Julian Bashir

23.5k, Explicit

Julian Bashir, Elim Garak, Keiko O’Brien, Kasidy Yates, Kira Nerys, Ezri Dax (mentioned)

Eight months after the war ends, Julian invites Garak on a pollen-harvesting trip to Bajor. Distracted by the delight of seeing his friend after so long, Garak gets himself blasted with hormone-altering pollen, and is forced to ride out the repercussions on the runabout journey back to DS9. Symptoms include mood swings, unusual food cravings, and an urgent need for emotional assurance and physical contact. Julian is glad to offer relief, in whatever manner Garak requires. Even in the most intimate of ways...

Secretly, they both hope their brief affair in the runabout’s bottom bunk will lead to something more. But how could it, when duty forever trumps desire?

Tags: Post-Canon, Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Porn With Plot, Mutual Pining, Sex Pollen, Mood Swings, Hormones, Cuddling & Snuggling, Public Display of Affection, Smut, Explicit Consent, First Kiss, Caring Julian Bashir, Hormonal Elim Garak, Horny Elim Garak, First Time, Anal Sex, Top Elim Garak, Bottom Julian Bashir, but they do switch briefly, Post-Canon Bajor, Post-Canon Cardassia, Illustrated

Notes: FYI, Julian and Ezri are no longer a couple. How that happened is discussed late in the fic, but Garak thinks they’re still dating when he and Julian sleep together for medical reasons. (Julian is NOT cheating, but Garak guiltily believes he is.)

This one’s probably an easy edit tbh. But I’m still questioning that ^ Garak-thinks-Julian-seeing-Ezri thing, so anyone who can tell me if it feels right, if I need to edit it, or if I should take it out, would be great.

3. Tail Over Heels

Elim Garak/Julian Bashir

Julian Bashir, Elim Garak, Amsha Bashir, Benjamin Sisko, Ezri Dax, Miles O’Brien, Kira Nerys, and everyone else

19.9k, Mature

Despite every attempt to deter her, Julian’s mother is coming to DS9. Here’s the problem: Julian told her he was married, and he’s not. Here’s the solution: Garak stands in as Julian’s husband. She’s meant to hate him. But Garak is just too damn likable - and a liiiittle too convincing in the role of Julian’s lover. Not only does his mother believe the lie, but so does everyone else on the station. Even Julian himself is starting to wonder...

Tags: Romance, Fluff, Fake Marriage, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Mistaken For A Couple, Moving In Together, Roommates, Sharing a Bed, Cuddling & Snuggling, Holding Hands, Eavesdropping, Bickering, Cardassian Flirting, First Kiss, First Time, Garak has a tail, Slightly Alternate Canon, set mid season 7, or an alternate post-canon where nobody leaves

Note: This one’s the oldest and closest to being publishable, and already illustrated and lightly beta’d, so this will likely post first, before the end of March 2020. But it definitely needs another going-over.

4. Code for Consent

Elim Garak/Julian Bashir

13k, Explicit

Julian Bashir, Elim Garak, Miles O’Brien, Keiko O’Brien

With Miles away, Julian needs someone else to play the evil villain in his secret agent holosuite program. Garak steps up. But tying Julian to a bedpost and fake-torturing him turns out to be an accidental turn-on for both of them. Julian doesn’t want to break character, so allows Garak to escalate his erotic domination towards the point of no return - yet Garak won’t go any further with their roleplay without clear consent. Now Julian has to figure out a way to show Garak he wants him without saying it outright. (But then again, maybe saying it matters.)

Tags: Smut, Romance, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Holodecks/Holosuites, Roleplay, Cardassian Flirting, Accidental Stimulation, Light Bondage, Choking, Light Knifeplay, Consensual Non-Consent, Rape Roleplay, (foreplay only) - soon followed by:, Explicit Consent, Holding Hands, Making Love, Schmoop, Top Elim Garak, Bottom Julian Bashir, set late season 6

Note: Nobody’s read this yet so idk how it comes across to other people, which worries me. Something about it doesn’t sit right with me but I can’t figure it out and need help with that :/

If you’re interested in helping, please submit me a tumblr message at https://almaasi.tumblr.com/submit with your name, pronouns, a statement of your interest and email address (gmail preferred) so I can add you to google docs if I pick you c:

(also maybe a timeframe of when you’d be able to beta. starting any time in the next couple of weeks is fine.)

(disclaimer to people with anxiety: I welcome anyone <3 if you want to say hi, PLEASE DO. I reserve the right not to pick you for any number of secret reasons, and I might not reply quickly, or at all, because I have chronic fatigue and messages are A Lot for me, but it doesn’t mean I don’t like you or you did something wrong!! promise.)

#ds9 #garashir #deep space nine #star trek: deep space nine #Elmie writes things #post of postiness #betaing #The Wolf Who Cried Doctor #Runabout Rollabout #Tail Over Heels #Code for Consent

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proofthatihaveaheart · 5 years

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Captain Marvel fic recs

i wrote this ages ago, during the summer, and then forgot to post it - but better late than never! it’s got a mix of gen, carol/jess, and carol/maria fics on it, including both comics and mcu fic. enjoy!

Gen

Galactic Response Time by SassySnowperson (Carol & Fury, 5k): All the OTHER times Nick Fury texted Carol Danvers. // May 4th, 2012 Get your ASS over here there is an INVASION. Aliens are coming out of the SKY HELP US // May 10th, 2012 "Invasion, Fury, the word you used was invasion! I made it across three quarters of the galaxy in six days! Where are the aliens?" [I love this fic and the way it so perfectly captured Carol and Fury’s dynamic. THE DIALOGUE! IT’S JUST SO GOOD! Their banter is fun and there are some genuinely sweet moments.]

whatever it takes (and i couldn’t whisper when you needed it shouted) by pratz (5k): In which Tony called Carol glowing space Jesus, and Carol did her best to understand the weight of 3.2 million lives lost. [An AU of Endgame focusing on Carol and her journey in processing what happened and what she can do about it. I love the characterization and her interactions with the other characters, particularly Tony.]

Carol/Maria

All Around [Reminders of You] by sinandmisery (1k): The first year is the worst. [Maria and Monica’s grief over Carol’s ‘death’, framed around Christmas. Some good and painful angst.]

another place, another time by sorrybaby (1k): In every lifetime but this one, Carol gets to love Maria. [Oof, this one hurts and it’s absolutely brilliant. It’s Carol/Maria and endgame Carol/Val and sometimes you can love someone but not be with them. Because sometimes life is like that and you miss one another. Lots of good pining and learning to let go. Bonus Nat + Carol friendship.]

a simpler place in time by Elisattack (3k): It starts like this: Carol blows up. // Actually, it starts like this: Carol falls down, then she gets right back up again. Her dad shakes his head at her bruised knees and cut face, and calls her unladylike. She says fuck him, and fuck any man that tells her what to do. [Tracks through Carol and Maria’s relationship from the early days to getting together to the events of CM + Endgame and afterwards. Lovely writing and character work. One of my favorite works of this kind]

brave face talk so lightly by lesbiyawn (1k): Carol is stubborn. Carol is hot-headed. Carol can’t help it if some people deserve a just beating. Maria knows this. It’s why she loves Carol calls Carol her best friend. [Pre-canon and pre-relationship fluff that is both sweet and very them]

do you have to let it linger by whyyesitscar (2k): in the wake of carol's crash, maria has to explain everything to a lot of different officials. only one of them seems to get it. (Maria talks to Peggy. Beautiful fic about grief and the people who can understand it.)

jambalaya (please be my baby) by carol_danvers (6k): Loving Maria comes easier than anything else ever did. Carol won't say she wants to be more than friends, not when she has so much to lose, but she'll tell her in everything but name.AKA Carol tests out pet names, Maria gets pregnant, and they fall a bit more in love. [One of my favorite get-together fics, the writing is so good and I love the development of their relationship, the PINING and the obliviousness, it’s gold.]

kisses under my palm by neon_air (1k): Carol Danvers has been kissed before but never by the one person she wanted it from most. [All the different kisses Carol has had, and love. A lovely one-shot.]

Lightning Crash by Monochrome_girl (2k): Carol is here to stay. Maria is still getting used to having her back. [Carol stays and they reconnect. It’s a lovely progression of the two relearning each other and building a life together that also involves collecting alien scraps and it’s sweet.]

Love’s Labors Lost by lesbians_and_puns (3k): After Carol finds a home planet for the Skrull, she returns to Louisiana to try to get her old life back, but when she finds an old photograph of herself and Maria on Maria's bedside table, they both realize how much they're still missing. [An angsty take on Carol’s return and the things people can say because life is stressful and complicated and sometimes you hurt the people you love without meaning to. It’s really good, it also hurts.]

we were too close to the stars by inkwelled (1k): "God, what did they do to you," Maria whispers, wrapping another bandage around Carol's bicep. / For all it's worth, Carol doesn't even wince. [This hurts but in a delicious way. There’s a kind of soft aching quality to the angst, it’s premium, good stuff, you can feel the love.]

Carol/Jessica

Always Falling by sariane (2k): “What do you want?”“I don’t want to be her sloppy seconds. I want all of it, all the corny relationship stuff. I want the dumb date nights, the stupid fights, the awkward breakfast-making elbow bumps. I want to take her up flying – someday. I don’t know,” Carol says suddenly, scuffing her foot on the street, “I want stability.”Carol wants a lot of things. She does not want to be Jessica's rebound girl. [Basically Jess and Clint break up, Carol is a great friend on the comfort front, and then Jess kisses her. And Carol assumes it’s because she’s a rebound. There’s some light angst over that, it’s very well-done. Characterization is very good.]

Fly, Fight, Win by singalellaby (1k): It's not a sign of superhero lesbian bed death, whatever Peter says, it's just that Jess is an Adult. A Mature Adult. In a Mature Adult Partnership with a woman who happens to wear skin-tight suits as her work uniform and it was either become habituated to her girlfriend being the hottest anything with Kree DNA around or living in a state of permanent arousal in her own pretty damn tight costume. And since S.H.I.E.L.D doesn't spring for laundry expenses, that was so not an option. [Jess POV, admiring her really hot partner.]

He Picked the Wrong One by beckydawolf (Carol/Jess, 34k): When Captain Marvel and Spider-Woman are knocked unconscious on a mission, they wake up in a world a lot like their own. In fact, it’s almost identical. Except that the Civil War never happened, Jess doesn’t seem to exist and their Carol is dead. Oh and then there’s Natasha Stark.Turns out, slipping between universes might not even be the most complicated part of this mess. (Fantastic characterization, really love the perfect Carol and Jess banter, nested in this wonderful comic book-y plot that works as perfect background for the development of the characters and the relationships. Also the plot is entirely driven by characters and their relationships and their love - both unhealthy and healthy. It’s great)

In My Dreams by sariane (3k): Carol may not have her memories, but she has her dreams.(But, of course, she dreams of kissing Jessica. As if her life isn't already complicated enough.) [This fic takes this concept and does a phenomenal job with it. You really get Carol’s growing frustration with the dream as she tries to work out what it means by subtly asking everyone other than the person in her dream.]

It’s A Slow Slide Into Misandry by bendingwind (800): Carol's all fixed up and Jessica's moved on, and things have... changed. [Short little fic post-Hawkeye break-up, dealing with feelings. It’s cute.]

once you live a good story by pummelwhack (Carol/Jess, 13k): Carol and Jessica redefine what it means to be happy, in the context of coffee, philosophy, and each other. Or: the one where Carol and Steve own a used bookstore, Sam runs the coffee shop next door, and Jessica searches for more than what life is currently offering her. (Lovely, soft fic about falling in love and finding happiness in each other and your life. Some truly beautiful lines and musings about philosophy.)

Pin the Tail by Alsike (Carol/Jess, 7k): Carol doesn't know who she is. But she knows Jess. She likes Jess. There's probably a good reason why she's not dating Jess, but, you know, amnesia. [Glorious, this fic has pining and angst and trying to deal with amnesia and it just gets Jess and Carol down. And the emotions, they’re just really good as they navigate their relationship and the baggage they bring]

Red by awesomocity (1k): If Carol had been a more self-conscious person she might have worn stale jeans for another day. But years of dealing with brothers and locker rooms and the general knowledge she was both hot AND powerful made standing in a laundromat in her underwear at three in the morning tolerable, if not comfortable.(or, the one where Carol and Jess get romcommed by laundry.) [Love the characterization in this, just a really good fic for cheering you up.]

Smell Like I Sound by Sineala (6k): Carol likes Jess a lot. That's not the weird part. The weird part is that Carol likes Jess a lot more when Jess isn't in the room. [A pheromones fic taking place in the Marvel Adventures verse. It’s really cute and I really like the push-pull of Carol figuring out her feelings and wondering why she keeps having these moments of revulsion around Jess.]

Snow Day by Traincat (1k): Jessica Drew goes missing. Carol and the Hulk team up to get her back (and maybe fight some ice monkeys along the way). [Absolutely delightful fic, I love the dynamic between Carol and the Hulk as well as Jessica and the Hulk, and Carol’s concern for Jess. I could easily see this being a real comic]

Such a Cunning Disguise by WhenasInSilks (2k): Carol is fracturing again.Carol and Jess started dating six months before Stamford. Eight months before Captain America died on the courthouse steps. Ten months before things like the measurement of time ceased to be part of Carol’s personal universe.Now she sits alone in the darkness of her cell and feels herself fall apart.A Secret Invasion AU. [This fic HURTS. It’s beautifully written too which makes the angst all the more delicious. Warning for heartbreak and self-loathing and mental instability]

the small rain down can rain by tigrrmilk (3k): When Jess was jumping between universes, trying not to get killed, she had wondered - was there a version of her and Carol who had... made it work? [Jess dealing with Carol having amnesia and going off to space. Really good character stuff, all the complicated feelings Jess has about what Carol did, and then Carol showing up, you can really see the connection between them, regardless of memory loss or distance.]

Turn Around and Look Back by Sineala (Carol/Jess, 6k): When Carol first lost her memories, to Rogue, Professor Xavier healed her and let Jess experience all of Carol's missing memories. When Carol loses all her memories -- again -- it's up to Jess to give them back to her, in exactly the same way: Jess has to link with Carol telepathically. But Jess' mind contains a lot of feelings about Carol that she doesn't exactly want Carol to know about. [I love this fic, just all the feelings, the pining, the concern, the character voices, it’s all really good.]

Unshackled by beckydawolf (27k): Carol's in space and Jess is alone again. But that's the pattern of her life. The hunt for a missing teenager leads Jess to some new friends, reminds her she still has some old ones and forces her to face a part of her past she'd rather ignore. [A darker take on the pheromones and the trauma + complications of Jessica’s powers. This fic is really good at how it handles it, and I really love how supportive Carol is. Also Anya and Kamala and America and Kate show up and they’re awesome!]

#monthly fic recs #fic recs #captain marvel #carol danvers #this doesn't have any new fics on it because i haven't read any capmarv fics since the summer

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bosstoaster · 7 years

Note

do you have any good shiro fic recommendations?

I’ve been sitting on a couple of these, but yeah. Let’s do this.

a hollow nest to dream in @lightshesaid and Quadriviuum (I don’t know if they have a tumblr oops)From the Voltron Gen Big Bang, this has been open for me to comment on for days now and I’m a bad person who hasn’t, so get a rec instead. This is a gorgeous, amazing fic. Taking place after Shiro’s disappearance from the Black Lion, this cycles through universes and time and space in a way that’s stunning to read. Gorgeous. Read it now.

All the World Will Be Your Enemy@bosstoaster (lol self rec)

There will be a couple of these, indulge me. Shiro escapes early and ends up captured with the GG. This leads to him becoming a Space Pirate. No, really. This is my current baby so I’m going to show it off whenever possible. I loved a look into Shiro’s head if he got just one extra push.

Prince of Memory@velkynkarma

Shiro begins to get different memories from his captivities. Ones that are painful, yes, but lead him on a different journey. One to bring home the Last Words of his fellow captives. Poignant, beautiful, touching. Picking a favorite fic from Velkyn would be tough, but this is a serious contender.

All Too Familiar@oldmythos

Shiro can’t sleep. There are many reasons he can’t sleep, but there are also many people looking to help him out. Adorable, heartwarming, with a couple of dashes of angst like a good hot sauce. A++ stuff.

Ten Years On Series@bosstoaster

Okay the last of the self recs, I’m sorry about this. Shiro wakes up after the events of season 2 and finds himself ten years in the future, where everyone had to learn to get on without him. Number three in the series is Teeth Ready for Sinking, which is the deepest examination of the situation and the highlight of the whole thing, in my ever so humble (lol) opinion.

From the Inside@queenvallkyrie

Uliro. Voltron is hit with an attack by Haggar that leaves everyone feeling vulnerable and violated. Shiro is there for the others, and then Ulaz is there for him. Short but gorgeous. Valkyrie is amazing in general and does a lot of Shiro focus, so keep an eye out on her others stuff. Especially if you like Uliro.

Parasite Knight@velkynkarma

Just how does Shiro’s arm work? How did he get it? What does it run off of? What happens when that runs out? Warning for this being a dark one, but it’s so, so, so good. To say much more would be to ruin it, but this fic is amazing and it delves so deep into the very core of Shiro’s being and his relationship with the crew and I just love it.

what the living won’t let go@mumblefox

For the Voltron Gen Mini Bang, Shiro ends up as something like a ghost after the events of season 2. He goes on a personal journey, seeing the team afterwards, and then goes through something bigger. Galaxy big. Universe big. Time big. The imagery and breathtaking scale in a relatively short read is reason enough to rec this forever. Try it for yourself.

Nobody Learns@sassafrassrex

Another great Shiro-centric writer (tho some fics I’ll remind you to mind the warnings). This one is Matt POV but Shiro is probably tied for the most important character. It goes through Matt and Shiro’s time at the Garrison, up through the Kerberos mission. Sass and I have a lot of agreements on Shiro’s personality, especially pre-capture/Voltron, so if you like my stuff you’ll like hers.

Something Strange@ashinan

Andy does a lot of lovely Shiro shipping stuff. If you dig Sheith or Uliro you should definitely check it out. But my fav of her Shiro-focused stuff is this little gen piece. Shiro can see ghosts. No one else in the team of cryptid/ghost-hunters can. This is not usually a problem, but sometimes it is. A little big of horror, but mostly campy and fun like a good campfire story.

Unafraid@butteredonions

Yeah, we knew we were getting to Miss Onions eventually. So I’m really biased. Super biased. Crazy biased. This fic was for me, lol. But it’s SUPER cute and my favorite of Onion’s AUs (and that is a hefty title lol). Hufflepuff!Shiro preps for his seventh year, only to find Hogwarts is prepping for the Triwizard Tournament. Featuring everyone in fantastic roles with amazing parallels. So good. Please read. Please love it. Please help me convince Onions there needs to be more of it.

The Throne in the Hall@butteredonions

The crown jewel of Shiro-centric fics. 100 percent. This fic is a battle between Shiro and a Galra Commander. It’s nearly 13k of some of the best action I’ve ever read in any medium ever. It’s an engaging character study, showcasing the depths of Shiro’s skills and perseverance. It’s gorgeous imagery and breathtaking writing. It is the best Shiro-centric fic on AO3. Period. I love every fic on this list, but it still holds that place in my heart.

Smile Wide@sassafrassrex

Shiro learns to survive in the world of gladiators. Brutal, vicious, fantastic. This is the only non-compete fic on this list, and it makes it because I think it stand on it’s own anyway. Give it a shot.

Chasing Rabbits, Chasing Hope@hufflepirate

Pacific Rim AU. Voltron is an experimental five-pilot Jaeger. It has it’s own, unique challenges and issues. Shiro struggles under the pressure, and Coran offers advice, his ear, and tea.

Special shout out to @demenior who writes great Uliro, Shiro getting wrecked, and some of the darkest Shiro-centric fics in the business. I don’t feel super comfortable linking someone straight to Little Monster, which would be my pick here, but here’s her AO3.

There are so, so many more good Shiro fics I’ve read and lost. I’m terrible at keeping track. Always feel free to add on! But here’s a starting point.

#Voltron #Shiro #Fic recs #Takashi Shriogane #Hot Astronerd #Anonymous

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alsklingwille · 8 years

Text

skam fic rec masterpost

here’s a huge fic rec list of some fics that i have read and am currently reading and im in love with

big thanks to fic writers! yall are amazing and so important to the fandom <3

(ps i’m so sorry i had to shorten up the summaries on some of them so it wouldnt be too long!!)

(pps i update this very frequently as i read so feel free to come back from time to time to look for any new fics!)

make sure you read the trigger warnings for some fics as they can get angsty!

okay here we go :) happy reading <3

______________________________________________________________

finished works

whose world is this (1k) - withoutwords

It’s the same Isak who does his own laundry, and cooks his own dinner, and calls his dad for money. But now he kisses boys.

love me harder (1k) - tech_ftw

In which accidentally being added to a group text has unexpected consequences. Like falling in love.

puppy love (1k) - radiantarrow

Even and Isak move in together, talk about adopting a puppy, and are in love.

tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow (2k) - withoutwords

The walk back to school is long. Strangers and students and friends all staring, like he has it printed big and bold across his forehead. Homo. Home Wrecker. Loser.

sweet (2k) - lisforlove

Isak is drunk and needy.

comacrescendo (2k) - stormboxx

His ears are ringing. Feels the taste of blood in his mouth. There’s hatred in his thoughts, and a nuclear bomb in his chest.

you're intertwining your soul with somebody else (2k)- cosetties

Isak's roommate is probably homophobic, or whatever, but that doesn't stop his crush from forming.

(Not so) Public Displays of Affection (2k) - radiantarrow

Five times Isak was comfortable with PDA around his friends, and the one time he was comfortable with it in public.

Ring On It (2k) - TotallyTinkerbell

Isak's room is the biggest mystery of the kollektiv, and only the guys that Isak hooks up with from time to time, get to see it. Needless to say, Even is jealous.

hearts don’t break around here (3k) - LostInAdmiration

Eskild’s POV of Isak and Even’s relationship.

love and other stories (3k) - littlemovie

Isak accidentally falls in love over Snapchat and he doesn’t regret it.

i can’t handle no liquor (3k) - boxesofflowers, Eeyoreneedsahug

Isak trying to stay sober with Even goes wrong. Even is a caring and supportive boyfriend.

Would You Mind Closing The Bedroom Door? (3k) - allyasavedtheday

The boy falters in the threshold, eyes widening when they land on Even. “Oh fuck- sorry! Eva didn’t say anyone was home.” Ah. No wonder she was up late last night. Even can’t really fault her taste – the boy is beautiful.

and now my heart is ready (3k) - verlore_poplap

Isak's only eighteen, Even proposes a lot, everybody cries and - surprisingly - no one makes a joke about Isak being a teenage bride.

lazy saturdays and eskimo kisses (4k) - givemesumaurgravy

Even spends the weekend with Isak being cute and getting up to some shenanigans.

baby, look what you've done to me (5k) - aestheticzjm

The one in which even is a penetrator and isak really isn't impressed. (Part 1 of series)

I get by (with a little help from my friends) (5k) - diamondjacket

Four times Isak’s friends were way too invested in his sex life, and one time they regretted it.

effortless (5k) - BraveKate

pov of even’s new director’s assistant (set in the future)

strange encounters (6k) - midnightsurge

Isak and Even are students at the University of Oslo. They meet under strange circumstances and it’s all Eskild’s fault.

Serve You Long (6k) - eiqhties

Sana would be the first to admit that recently it’s all been starting to get to her. It’s how she ended up visiting Isak and Even in their new flat in the first place; finally giving in to Isak’s increasingly desperate pleas for her to revise with him.

Inbox: (1) New Email (6k) - eiqhties

A story about falling back in love, one tweet, instagram post and email at a time

if i could i would feel nothing (7k) - prettylies

When Chris hooks up with another girl at a party, Isak gets even. Literally. He sleeps with Chris’ sworn enemy, Even.

wrong number (7k) - IsakEven

Isak wants to text Jonas but he accidentally texts Even.

loving isak (7k) - Tintinnabulation_of_the_Bells

Five of the people who grow to love Isak Valtersen, and one who’s loved him all along.

that’s one way to come out (8k) - Bellakitse

Isak is upset about the rumors surrounding his sexuality, courtesy of Emma, so the boys take him to a Bakka party. Isak meets Even in the kitchen.

true or false (9k) - iriswests

7 moments between Isak and Even, ranging from the ages of four and six to the ages of seventeen and nineteen, respectively. (childhood best friends AU)

possibly (maybe) i’m falling for you (10K) - boxesofflowers, Eeyoreneedsahug, safficwriter

Even tries to get Isak to smile with coffee. Every time he buys Isak coffee, he becomes more determined to find the perfect drink (and falls in love along the way).

don’t you keep it all to yourself (10k) - colazitron

An AU in which Even didn’t need to repeat his last year and instead started working at the coffeeshop Isak passes on his way to school every morning.

Something Borrowed, Something Blue (10k)- BluebeardsWife

Fake dating AU, you know the drill. Even hires Isak to pretend to be his boyfriend at his ex’s wedding.

those flowers on your head (11k) - whitehall

the one where Isak Valtersen is the first known male veela and Even’s already doomed from the start

you're the shit and i'm knee-deep in it (11k) - cosetties

After Even has already rejected him once, after Isak is aware of Even's reputation for meaningless one-night stands, the last thing Isak should be doing is sleeping with the guy. But it keeps happening, and there's no way Isak is getting out of this with his heart intact.

ground me (13k) - Bellakitse

Isak gets a job at a cafe and meets a barista who’s beauty blows Isak away. (coffeeshop AU)

love is what it takes to live (14k) - sargentblue *mpreg*

isak and even's journey through pregnancy

get rid of her (14k) - cuteandtwisted

Even still transfers to Nissen in his third year, but Isak and Even get introduced through their parents. (friends to lovers AU)

Membership Dues (15k) - Sabeley

Isak is pledging Even's fraternity. Even keeps having to be reminded that he's not allowed to date the pledges. "It's a ten-week pledge period. How hard could it be?" Famous last words.

Never Have I Ever (15k) - Sabeley

The one where Isak and Even are roommates who make out on occasion (in a completely platonic way, of course).

take my hand, take my whole life too (16k) - moonlightss

Isak needs another drink or two but his way into the kitchen is blocked by two people. He's about to squeeze through between them when he hears his name in the conversation. He knows the voice. "Isak Valtersen?" Even snorts, shaking his head. "He's the most arrogant asshole I've ever met." Isak holds his head up raising his eyebrows, then he taps on Even's shoulder. "Excuse me," he forces a smile when Even looks at him, "This arrogant asshole would like to get another drink." Even clenches his jaw and steps away, letting Isak through.

sideways and slantways (17k) - iriswests

Isak gets stuck in an elevator with the one person he’s vowed never to speak to again.

would it be a sin if i can’t help falling in love with you? (18k) - cosetties

isak uses even as an excuse to not date emma (fake relationship AU)

will you share your soul with me? (18k) - hippopotamus

There’s a school camping trip at the beginning of Isak’s second year. He’s not sure why he agrees to go, especially when he remembers how difficult it is for him to sleep anywhere that isn’t his own bed. It turns out he’s not the only insomniac on the trip.

poppin’ pills is all we know (19k) - tomlinsoln

au in which Even comes into the bathroom instead of Emma

shut your whore mouth, even. this is not the fault in our stars (20k) - Masterless

even gets sick and shares a room with isak in the hospital

Let Me In (20k) - milk_o_vich

“What are you doing here?” Isak asked, unable to keep the anger out of his voice. Even pressed his lips together, then said, voice hoarse and quiet, “Can I stay here tonight?”

la ritournelle (21k) - franca

Isak and Even are exes. A funeral brings them back together.

making shades of purple (22k) - rumpelsnorcack

His whole life, Isak had known his soulmark was different to those around him.

something sweet (to mend your heart) (22k) - cuteandtwisted

In which Isak becomes jaded after he gets cheated on and copes using sarcasm and humor. He's determined to end the school year without drama and avoids his ex and all his awful friends at all costs. Well, all of them except maybe half-decent Even Bech Næsheim, who's somehow determined to earn his friendship and fix his heart.

I wanna hold you like you're mine (24k) - giraffingallday

Isak is often nervous and just trying to get through his required semester of Theatre. Emma makes it a little harder until Even comes along and makes it too easy. He might fall in love somewhere along the way. (Fake Relationship AU)

Cabins, Coziness and Conspiracies (24k) - evakuality

Even. Fucking gorgeous, beautiful, amazing Even. The guy Isak may have had the smallest crush on ever since they met. That’s the guy Isak has to sit in a car with for hours on the way to the cabins they’ve hired for the ski trip. aka, the one where Isak and Even have to share a bed, their friends are strangely obsessed with their lives and things are not exactly as they might appear.

Alright, hold on (24k) - nofeartina

It starts with friendship, and they never meant to add sex to that. It just sort of... happened. or 5 times Isak and Even accidentally have sex and 1 time it isn’t so accidental

you say good morning when it’s midnight (25k) - Aceteroid

It sucks, when your best friend is on a student exchange at the other end of the world for three months. It sucks even more, when you fall in love with the step-brother of his exchange student.

Somewhere A Clock Is Ticking (25k) - staylucky *Major Character Death*

The Afterlife is not what Isak Valtersen was expecting. He didn’t think he’d die at 18 years old in the first place. Thank Goodness for Jonas, who takes Isak under his (literal) wing, but most of all for fellow spirit and member of ‘Limbo Land’ Even Bech Naesheim, a beautiful boy with a past of his own.

Is this a lasting treasure? Or just a moment’s pleasure? (25k) - Amfelia

Isak hooks up with a stranger at a party, but runs away before he learns their name or gets a number. He is not out yet, and is nervous about anyone finding out.

wake up! (26k) - cuteandtwisted

Even can’t stop having dreams about this strange boy. He’s never seen him before. But why does it feel like he’s the only person that ever mattered?

i guess that's destiny doing it right (26k) - allyasavedtheday

Even originally went to Nissen and became friends with Isak and Jonas, but moved away after his episode at the end of first year, only for Isak to never hear from him again. Fastforward to the summer before Isak starts college when he’s travelling and bumps into a certain someone in Barcelona.

The Afternoon (27k) - MannaMarianna

Even is forty and married with kids when he gets invited to Magnus' wedding. The joyful meeting of old friends quickly turns into something else, something that threatens to turn his life, and many others', upside down. Growing up doesn't always make people better at relationships; they are always messy.

Doctor Patient Confidentiality (30k)- skambition

AU where Isak is a doctor and Even comes into the hospital after getting hit by a car.

scene three, take two (31k) - folerdetdufoler

Isak is 23, a student in the veterinary program at NMBU, and working an internship at a clinic in Kongsvinger. He hasn’t seen Even in three years, but randomly bumps into him on the street when he’s visiting his mom in Oslo.

in better light, everything changes (31k) - TimeInABottle

Isak accidentally texts a stranger (Even) while trying to text Sana.

cut us out in little stars (33k) - allyasavedtheday

An Isak and Even, Romeo and Juliet au

i’m not a baby (33k) - cuteandtwisted

Isak and Even are childhood friends.

love and condoms (34k) - kassie

Isak owes Eskild a favor and Eskild sends him out to buy condoms where he runs into a tall boy who is a little too eager to help him.

it's something unpredictable, but in the end it's right (34k) - mmxii

Even suddenly stops and just looks at him for a few seconds. Then he says it. “You’re my best friend, you know. Always have been, always will be.” (childhood best friends AU)

Cathedrals of Light, Salt and Snow (35k) - shoulderbone (lavenderforluck)

What he wants to say, and cannot bring himself to admit: Before you there was no real me. Only a person pretending to be. Or, alternatively: Isak comes back to face death, and in the meantime, finds rebirth. (Part 1 of series)

Guru Knows Best (36k) - StMisery

Even moves into the apartment across the hall, and Isak's just trying to make it another day without dying of embarrassment.

i would like to get to know you baby (39k) - ourlovelybones

Isak wakes up to ten texts from Eskild and three missed calls from his manager. He's almost worried someone has died until the screenshot comes in. Even Bech Næsheim had tweeted about him. (!AU in which Even is an internationally famous singer and Isak is an up and coming model he finds on twitter)

i’m not in love (41k) - cuteandtwisted

Even never transferred to Nissen in his third year, so they meet in college instead. (Uni AU)

What Death Doesn't Touch (41k) - smokeshop

Halfway through Even's third year, he's diagnosed with bipolar disorder. When Isak is 16, Eskild finds him too late outside the bar. They meet in a psychiatric hospital and grow in ways they'd never intended, and decide early on that they don't have to take it all so seriously.

Lost In Reality (42k)- hippopotamus

Penetrator!Even AU where Isak gets involved with Even in his first year, before Even mysteriously disappears.

Built from the Ashes (43k) - Sabeley

Even and Jonas are roommates who get along a little too well and Isak is not the least bit jealous about it at all (Except he totally is).

and the whole world is empty (45k) - dreamer_of_dreams

The conversations were always stilted and quiet and benignly untrue. The phone calls eventually petered out. So, Even did what he thought was right for Isak. On an ordinary Thursday, eating dinner next to each other on the couch, Even looked up from his bowl of noodles, glanced at the clock ticking 9.21 pm and said, “I think we should break up.”

an equal and opposite reaction (46k) - junkshopdisco

Meeting each other’s parents doesn’t go well. It doesn’t go badly, either. It just sort of… goes.

Things Look Different in the Morning (46k) - allyasavedtheday

In which Even needs a place to stay, kollektivet gains a new roommate, and Isak just really wants to sleep.

right click > save as (47k) - kittpurrson

Isak, a fic writer in the Minute by Minute fandom, had the world's biggest crush on the fandom's biggest name.

I Have Held You in My Heart (47k) - photographer_of_thoughts

“If one of us finds a proper girlfriend or boyfriend, we stop doing this, okay?” Even had said after the first time it happened, Isak freshly seventeen and lying on Even’s chest. Friends-With-Benefits University AU in which Even makes rules and Isak follows them. They sleep together sometimes - a lot of times - and Isak knows how in love he is. But then Even gets a girlfriend, and everything changes.

such a beautiful mess (48k) - skambition

Isak works at Kaffebrenneriet to save up some money for a trip with his friends. Normally, working there is chill. Until Isak starts to work together with Even, an arrogant hipster with horrible taste in music, that keeps using the phrase 'sex hair' and is not only judgemental and stupid, but also so hot that Isak sometimes can't breathe around him. Isak hates him. Until he doesn't.

the comments below (48k) - DickAnderton

Isak is a notoriously lazy gamer living with lgbt icon Eskild. They invite youtube sensation Even Bech Naesheim over for a collaboration. (youtube AU)

On call (49k) - MinilocIsland

Isak knows what he's meant to do in life - surgery. And he can't wait to show everyone that he's good at it. That is, if he'll ever get a goddamn chance. Not getting hindered by ridiculous, charming guys whose main advantage in the operating room simply is the length of their legs. (Hospital AU)

stay a minute (50k) - grinsekaetzchen

In which there is a tumblr fandom that is dying every time new information for 'Romeo and Juliet' drops, Even is a beloved director and Isak - well, Isak would just really appreciate it if his mind would stop surprising him with memories at the worst moments possible.

as i let you in (51k) - nofeartina

Lord Isak Valtersen becomes a prince-consort. Or the one where Even is a prince and they enter into an arranged marriage in ye olden days.

waiting outside ('til you're ready to go) (52k) - miucrew

An AU where Isak's daughter is an actual little devil that he can't control for the life of him, and his neighbour Even offers a helping hand.

God Only Knows (What I'd Do Without You) (52k) - sundaymournin

The break up that would never really happen, but imagine if it did. If Even moved to Trondheim for Uni and returned a little over two years later. Imagine what Isak would do, who he would be, and what could've happened but definitely never would've.

Masquerade (53k) - Sabeley

Isak and Even were best friends before one botched mission tore them apart. When they are assigned to go undercover as newlyweds at an oceanside resort where couples are going missing, can they put their differences aside for long enough to solve the case? And can they fix what’s broken between them before it’s too late?

Don't Fuss Over Me (53k) - everything_else

Isak stood in the bedroom he shared with his boyfriend and looked in the mirror. He was wearing a grey top and dark jeans that hung down off his skinny frame. He wanted to wear a snapback but he knew Halvor wouldn’t let him and he would be home any minute. He looked sullen and he knew that would have to change before it got him into trouble. The door opened and Halvor shouted “Isak, I’ve got the drinks. Let’s go.” Isak took one final look in the mirror, this time trying to smile, and then walked out of the bedroom.

we've made it this far, kid (56k) - everythingislove (narrylife)

Isak is just trying to raise his nephew as best he can with the help of his best friends. He doesn't expect to fall for Felix's gorgeous football coach along the way.

Lost Boys (Not Ready To Be Found) (57k)- kittpurrson

Even is a disillusioned media studies student who wishes he hadn’t screwed up his film school applications. Isak is a prickly bioscience student who figured leaving his mother’s house for UiO would magically fix all of his problems.

Blanket Fort Gospel (58k) - Sabeley

Isak Valtersen met the love of his life when he was eleven years old. It was a truth he had long tried to deny, but it was the truth nevertheless.

that’s not my name (61k) - cuteandtwisted

Isak is an exchange student in new york city where he meets a very forward and bewitching Even. (one night stand AU)

Vivid in Black and White (62k) - Fxckxxp

In a Hei Briskeby video prank taken too far, Isak meets Even for the first time down on one knee—asking for his hand in marriage.

headed straight for the castle (62k) - boxesofflowers, Eeyoreneedsahug, safficwriter

Isak is the heir to the throne of one of the most powerful nations in the world, but he would rather be anyone else. After sneaking out one night, he meets a college student that makes him smile for what feels like the first time.

lover of my impossible soul (66k) - shoulderbone (lavenderforluck)

We don't often reveal ourselves, when we don't actually know what there is to reveal yet. Or, alternatively: Isak returns to Oslo, and most importantly, to Even. (Part 2 of series)

how in my silence i adored you (66k) - dahlstrom

In a parallel universe, the rest of the boy squad actually shows up at the first kosegruppa meeting and Isak stays for the love games. Thus, his first interaction with Even is quite different.

light up the dark (68k) - argentae

Probably the only reason Isak knows Even Bech Næsheim’s name is because Magnus and Vilde and the rest of the world will not shut up about him. But, in the privacy of his own bedroom, there’s no reason to deny that he has a really nice face to look at and that the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles does something funny to Isak’s stomach for a moment. (famous! even AU)

Home Is Wherever I'm With You (75k) - cuteandtwisted

Isak and Even keep meeting in hostels around the world and parting with a kiss or two.

Expect the Unexpected (80k) - bri_ness

In which Snakesak plays Big Brother.

the weight of us (81k) - verlore_poplap

Isak finally takes the plunge towards what’s seemed like an inevitability for almost ten years. Of course that’s when some guy comes along and ruins everything. (Set in the future).

Half Blade and Half Silk (85k) - smokeshop

Isak's friends introduce him to an art student at a college party. He won't stop calling Isak baby and Isak's bad at pretending to hate it. (College AU where Isak's past is a little more colorful but Even still won't leave him alone.)

Knock Four Times (92k) - folerdetdufoler

Isak is a senior in college, studying at a university in America. He’s ready to graduate and head back to Oslo, to his city, his family, and his boyfriend. But then, Even moves into his building.

my heart is strong (93k) - photographer_of_thoughts

Isak and Even meet in a doctor’s office waiting room

Harvest Moon (93k) - shoulderbone (lavenderforluck)

He goes to the altar and kneels, expecting to find her face carved in the wood there. Except there are no altars. No God either, or angels, or saints. Or, alternatively: Berlin, those dwindling summer days, and Isak's week of reckoning. (part 3 of series)

something more (94k) - milk_o_vich *includes chrisak in addition to evak*

AU where Even never transferred to Nissen. Isak is in his third year now and is friends with benefits with Chris, who is in Uni. Chris gets a new roommate.

that’s all i really know (94k) - cammm

Even and Isak have been dating for a while now, except Isak goes to Nissen and Even lives a few hours away. But what happens when Even says he moving, and then he shows up at Nissen a few weeks later? Only thing... Isak isn’t out, yet. And Even wasn’t ever told that his boyfriend was still in the closet.

The 49%. (97k) - GirlInTheWardrobe *trigger warnings*

Flat. Third Year. Even. That was the life of Isak Valtersen, that was until it wasn't anymore when he and Even unexpectedly broke up. Isak soon found himself the centre of someone else's desires...someone who is not who they seem.

Therefore I Am (98k) - smokeshop

The one thing Isak wants is to move on from his high school mistakes. Even spends his time pining after a boy who will never like him back. The last thing either of them expect is to wind up in bed together, but that's exactly what happens.

Blood vs. Water (100k) - bri_ness

In which Snakesak plays Survivor.

Old Money (100k) - twentyonetwentyone *major trigger warnings*

After a series of hardships and childhood trauma, Isak Valtersen is forced into the gruelling world of street prostitution, a nightmare in which he feels completely alone. Even Bech Næsheim is the bored adolescent heir to a billion dollar empire, living in a penthouse and listlessly spending his parents money in attempts to ease the existential despair. (Pretty Woman AU)

You Don’t Even Know Me! (101k) - cuteandtwisted

The one in which Isak and Even are interns who got off the wrong foot and don’t like each other at all (except that they do). (HateToLoveAU)

Next to you, is where I call home (101k) - LostInAdmiration

“Why don’t you start track too? You’d be a good sprinter, I’m sure you’d do great,” suggested Isak. Isak wasn’t entirely sure why he asked - he mostly liked being alone and he barely knew Even - but there was just something about Even that had drawn Isak to him. (childhood bffs AU)

The Notion of Falling (106k) - smokeshop

Isak hates Even and Even hates Isak and Sana is the only one who knows why

Now that you're gone (110k) - skambition

Even and Isak try to deal with having a long-distance relationship.

untold scenes of isak and his even (111k) - imissedyourskin

A collection of untold Evak scenes.

sleep is for dreamers (115k) - unfancyandy

Isak’s always had a complicated relationship with sleep.

Checking From Behind (116k) - DickAnderton

Isak is to captain his hockey team this season which means he has to somehow learn to cooperate with the newest addition to their team: Even Bech Næsheim. This proofs to be impossible, especially when nothing about Even's mysterious transfer adds up and his moods are just too frustrating.

with love, from anonymous (136k) - cosetties, iriswests

Isak just wants to get his coffee in peace, Even has a crush, and there’s a secret admirer on the loose.

When you're near to me (138k) - skambition

A story about Isak and Even and their beautiful future together.

Never let me go (151k) - hannakin *age difference*

A stranger to lovers fic with uni-student Isak and older Even. (Parent!Even)

Mondays at Sixteen (162k) - folerdetdufoler

Isak hasn't been doing it for too long, but he's been watching for a while and has a nice set-up. He finally moved out, into a small apartment of his own in the city, and earned enough money from his shows to invest in an external video camera. He's learned his angles and taped up the floor to mark where he could walk without revealing his face in frame. Three nights a week he logs on to the cam site and reveals his life to whoever wants to watch. On Fridays he's usually nude. Technically, this is how Isak and Even met.

Family Ties (215k) - sadgrlsclub

Set between Season 3 and 4. Even gets invited to his first Valtersen family event, and discovers things about Isak's past and his relationship with his parents. The story of how Even and Isak get to know each other's families and deepen their bond along the way.

Cleansing my Soul (217k) - imissedyourskin

Even fights for equal rights and is openly bisexual. Isak is a quiet admirer unsure of his sexuality. But there is always more than meets the eye... Who is Even beneath his popular appearance? And what is the whole deal with Even's 'secret club'?

works in progress

take me to the stars - iriswests *HIATUS*

Isak thinks Even is pretentious and impractical. Even thinks Isak is arrogant and uptight. They’re not each other’s biggest fans, even if they do happen to have spectacular sex on a very, very drunken night. And Isak doesn’t mean to do it again, but he does, anyway. (friends/enemies with benefits AU)

torches (life's too short) - xxLeviBech *major trigger warnings*/*HIATUS*

AU in which Isak's childhood is exponentially more severe -- and that's how he wound up here, talking about his experiences with other kids diagnosed with some kind of PTSD. It's also where meets a guy whose name starts with the same letters as everything, because that's... exactly what he is.

I Would Do It Again - cuteandtwisted *HIATUS*

Even gets caught up in a dare, and Isak loses a little bit of himself in the process. (Dare! AU)

Crash Into Me - endlessandinfinite *major trigger warnings*/*HIATUS*

Isak and Even have hella issues but they can't help falling in love no matter what universe they're in. Even saves Isak. And Isak saves him right back. It's not all sunshine and rainbows. It hurts. But it's love.

latching onto you - Behindthecities *HIATUS*

In which model!Isak and director!Even get caught drunkenly making out with each other by the paparazzi at the club and the only solution to it is to pretend to be each other’s boyfriends. (Fake boyfriends AU)

A Million Mistakes - BreeTaylor

Isak gets invited to a pregame by Even Bech Næsheim. Which would be fine, if the guy didn't have a reputation for being a bit of an ass. It's only with Jonas' nagging and promises to accompany him that Isak agrees to go, only to find out that Even might not be who Isak thought he was.

a careful hypothesis of the heart - StMisery

Isak and Even don't start out on the best of terms. Isak had been waiting nearly a year for the position of researcher to open up again. If he got it, he'd be working his dream job within one of the best biotechnology companies in the world. He applied for the position, heart in his throat, only to be passed over for the new recruit. When he discovered the new hire was also the son of the CEO, well, that was an unforgivable offense.

Nobody Loves Me Like You - cuteandtwisted

Isak and Even are childhood friends who enjoy ruining each other's chances with exactly everyone else, rewatching the same movies, taking care of each other, and pretending they're not in love.

Burning For Your Touch - cuteandtwisted

Isak's skin burns anyone that comes into contact with it and therefore cannot be touched. Closed off, angry, and extremely cunning, Isak transfers to Bakka and scares everyone away with his condition. Everyone but Even who—despite knowing it will burn—touches Isak like they'll both die without it.

just add water - hippopotamus

Mostly, he's just alone. He hasn't spoken to any of his old friends in - how long has it been, now? A year? Two? And he doesn't mind it. He settles easily into the silence, into the routine of every day life. Sometimes, though - sometimes, he's lonely.

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