SHSL_Fangirl + mutual-pining   51

Good Things
Dave whistled through his teeth. “Holy shit! You guys already made it to 2nd base?! Hot damn, Jemaine, who’s the foxy lady?”

“Someone you don’t know,” Jemaine answered quickly, averting his gaze, “But I don’t want our friendship to end. Can you be both...friends? But know...also...?”

“No fucking way, man. You choose one or the other, you can’t do both. You can’t have your cake and fuck it, too. Are you kidding me?”

Flight-of-the-Conchords  Bret/Jemaine  author:ovestedinterest  romance  emotional-hurt/comfort  angst-with-a-happy-ending  humour  Jemaine-POV  minor-Jemaine/Karen  living-together  sharing-a-room  pining!Bret  masturbation  fantasies  crying  pining!Jemaine  mutual-pining  denial  hugs  cuddling  realisation-of-feelings  avoidance  confrontations  confessions  intoxication  drunken-confessions  sexual-content  hair-pulling  dry-humping  blowjobs  fic  site:LJ  word-count:1-5k     
july 2018 by SHSL_Fangirl
In Love With A Bad Idea
Bret is upset and Jemaine tries to figure out the best way to help him, which leads to some unexpected feelings...
Jemaine rolled over to face the wall, then finally allowed himself to really think about what had happened that day. He wracked his brain to figure out exactly what had possessed him to kiss Bret like he did. He tried to tell himself it was completely innocent, just a friendly gesture, a last ditch, pull-out-all-the-stops attempt to get Bret to calm down when nothing else was working - and it was in a way - but Jemaine was forced to admit that that couldn't have been the only reason behind the kiss. If it was, he probably would have forgotten all about it shortly afterward instead of expending all of his willpower in order to avoid spending the entire evening going over every single detail again and again in his mind. The coarseness of Bret's beard against his palms, the softness of Bret's lips against his, the salty taste of Bret's tears...

Why was this so hard to put out of his mind? And why did he want nothing more than to do it again?

:::::☆ ☆:::::

Jemaine had come to a decision today. He'd realized that under no circumstances could he live without Bret. That left him with only one option in the tell-Bret-or-don't-tell-Bret scenario he'd been endlessly playing out in his mind for weeks.

:::::☆ ☆:::::

"Sounds to me like trouble in paradise..." Dave suggested, sagely.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Bret asked.

"Oh come on, you know what I'm talking about," Dave said, an incredulous look on his face, "you Norwegian motherfuckers are so gay for each other it's not even funny. OK, well it is a little funny," Dave chuckled.

"What?" Bret said, surprised, "no...Jemaine and me...we're not like that."

"Whatever you say, dude," Dave said, tone of disbelief in his voice, "all I know is that the way Jemaine was acting when he came in here a few weeks ago? He only acts that way when you two are fighting or when you somehow manage to find yourself a girlfriend."
Flight-of-the-Conchords  Bret/Jemaine  author:Dytallix_B  romance  humour  emotional-hurt/comfort  hurt/comfort  angst-with-a-happy-ending  Jemaine-POV  living-together  sharing-a-room  crying  hugs  cooking  experiments  pining  mutual-pining  pining!Jemaine  pining!Bret  wet-dreams  realisation-of-feelings  observation  sexual-content  masturbation  hurt!Jemaine  cuts  blood  avoidance  nightmares  confrontations  arguments  reconciliation  dry-humping  cuddling  literally-sleeping-together  blowjobs  misunderstandings  confessions  fic  site:AO3  word-count:10-20k     
july 2018 by SHSL_Fangirl
Impact of Disease
“Hanahaki Disease develops rapidly when one suffers from unrequited love for a very long time. In order to heal it you have to get your feelings returned. Or I get to cut your ribcage open, get the flowers extracted and then your feelings for the person will die with it. Or you can choose to die from a lung collapse. Your choice.”

When Morty develops Hanahaki Disease, Rick is amazed to find that his grandson would rather get a removal surgery than face his crush. Yet as Rick is about to find out, Morty's interest is not as unwilling as the boy thinks.
Rick-and-Morty  Rick/Morty  author:Preetyladyserenity  romance  hurt/comfort  emotional-hurt/comfort  AU  Hanahaki-AU  Rick-POV  pining  pining!Morty  mutual-pining  pining!Rick  headaches  blood  love-confessions  neck-play  sexual-content  dirty-talk  blowjobs  rimming  biting  cuddling  fic  site:AO3  word-count:1-5k 
july 2018 by SHSL_Fangirl
Based very loosely on a set of four acceptance speeches for awards won at the New Zealand Music Awards: When Bret breaks his bed doing an epic rock ‘n’ roll move it sets off a chain of events that lead to unexpected desire, confusion, heartache and, finally … acceptance.
His expression was heartbreaking, because Jemaine understood it completely. It said, ‘touch me, but please don’t make me ask for it. Please don’t make me talk about it.’

:::::☆ ☆:::::

As he slowly became aware of his surroundings again, he heard Jemaine whisper, ‘Bret, I love you’.

Oh. Holy. Shit.
‘No you don’t,’ said Bret, numbly. Jemaine opened his mouth as though to speak and then closed it again, confused. That wasn’t the answer he’d been expecting. Not that he’d been expecting anything in particular. He’d said it without thinking, surprising himself as much as Bret. Still, he hadn’t expected to be contradicted. ‘Um...I think I do,’ he said.

‘No,’ said Bret more fiercely, ‘You /don’t/.’

‘...Why?’ asked Jemaine, stupidly. He had the ominous feeling that this was going to be a truly horrible conversation.

‘Because you don’t, OK? You can’t. It’s one thing...fooling around...but just can’t. This is messed up enough already.’

Bret’s eyes were stinging. He wiped the back of his clean hand over them and turned from Jemaine, angry and sad and hating all of this. He was sure he was doing the right thing. They had already probably ruined their friendship by introducing sex into it. To pile confessions of love onto the heap was some kind of suicide. Better to call the whole stupid affair off and try to get back some of what they had before. God, he missed his best friend. And yet, deep down, he realised that he too wanted something more. He wanted to hold Jemaine forever. He wanted Jemaine to be his, /his/, no one else’s. But that was a fantasy and he was in over his head and drowning and the only possible lifeline was to say...

‘This has to end here, Jemaine.’

‘No,’ said Jemaine.

‘It has to. Don’t kiss me again. Don’t touch me again. Ever.’

‘Do you...should I...move out?’ – Jemaine blinked and heavy tears rolled down his cheeks. Bret couldn’t bear it.

‘No. No. Stay. I want us to be friends again.’

‘’ve broken my heart.’

Bret stared at Jemaine, pale and drained. This was, without question, the worst thing he had ever done in his life. He felt like he’d been given a beautiful, perfect flower and torn it apart. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, his voice cracked with tears. ‘We can...we /will/ get over it. We will.’

:::::☆ ☆:::::

Jemaine reached down and dragged Bret up by the front of his shirt. Before Bret could struggle or protest, he found himself shoved roughly against the filing cabinet, the metal cold through his shirt and contrasting deliriously with the heat of Jemaine holding him there. Jemaine’s thigh was between his legs, pressing against his crotch, and Jemaine had one hand around his wrist and another wound tightly in his hair. Jemaine’s breath was hot against his neck. Bret was caught helplessly between arousal and fear. Jemaine had been assertive before, but never like this. It wasn’t like him.

‘Is this what you want?’ growled Jemaine into Bret’s ear. ‘This is what you asked for, isn’t it? This is what you’ve been asking for every time you turned me on when you /knew/ I wouldn’t do anything about it because I love you. And well done. Congratulations. I’ve been tempted. I’ve been tempted every time. You’d like me to give in now, wouldn’t you? Damn bastard cocktease. I can tell you’re dying for it. I should fuck you right here against the filing cabinet. But you know how it would end up? Exactly how it ended up before. Don’t you get it? I love you. I’m in love with you and every time you deliberately make me want you it tears me apart a little more. So if you don’t love me, stop leading me on, fuck off and let me type my fucking email in peace. Please.’

Bret’s eyes grew wide for a second, as though something had suddenly become clear to him.

‘No,’ he said.
Flight-of-the-Conchords  Bret/Jemaine  author:asylumsatellite  romance  humour  angst-with-a-happy-ending  Jemaine-POV  living-together  sharing-a-room  literally-sleeping-together  sexual-content  wet-dreams  observation  denial  experiments  dub-con  avoidance  neck-play  crying  pining  mutual-pining  pining!Jemaine  pining!Bret  fantasies  masturbation  mutual-masturbation  dirty-talk  parties/celebrations  games  biting  blowjobs  frottage  love-confessions  rejection  flirting  confrontations  realisation-of-feelings  PDA  fic  site:Your-Beard-Is-Good  word-count:5-10k     
july 2018 by SHSL_Fangirl
On Hold
Morty goes off to college and he is not as thrilled with the experience as he thought he'd be.
“You’re a—y-you’re a good kid, Morty,” He mumbles out, body swaying until Morty steadies him into something more upright.
“Thanks Rick,” Morty responds, and feels his chest expand like it normally does when Rick graces him with a rare compliment. Rick nods his head above him drunkenly.
“Y-yeah, my—my good boy, Morty,” He murmurs, tone almost possessive, and Morty feels himself blush.
“Ah, gee, Rick…” He says, at a loss for words. He’s about to say something about Rick not being so bad himself when suddenly Rick speaks again, his voice somber and heavy.
“Morty—I-I—I love you, you know.”
Morty halts.
He processes the words slowly; turns it over in his mind, and struggles to find a reason why his surly, emotionally constipated grandfather just said that to him.

A look of worry settled over his face when he came up with the only possible explanation.
“A-are you dying or something, Rick?”
Rick huffed out a mirthless laugh and his body sagged further into Morty. The arm Morty held over his shoulders tightened until suddenly he found himself in some version of an embrace. He glanced up at Rick, confused, and was alarmed to see unshed tears in his grandfather’s eyes.
“R-rick?” He stuttered out. “W-w-what—are you actually dying?”
“I feel like it.” Rick said hollowly and he brought his other arm up to wrap Morty up in a crushing hug. “I feel like I’m fucking dying, Morty.”
Morty opened his mouth to speak when suddenly Rick shifted his head and threw up against the floor.
“Aw, Rick!” Morty cried and scrambled them away from the vomit on the floor.
“S-sorry, Morty—shit—I—“ Rick’s voice hitched and something wet plopped against Morty’s cheek and trailed lazily down his face. He flinches, thinking it’s residual vomit, but then he looks up and sees that his grandfather is quietly weeping.
“H-hey,” Morty says softly, heart plummeting at the sight. He brushes his hand against Rick’s tear streaked face and Rick chokes on a sob as he leans into Morty’s palm. Morty is stunned by the show of weakness, of the vulnerability Rick is showing, and something heavy settles in his gut at the sight.
“It’s okay, Rick. I-I’ll clean it up. Don’t cry.”
Rick doesn’t answer; he just clings to Morty for dear life and quietly sobs against his palm.
“Don’t leave,” Rick begs and Morty nods his head rapidly, nervously.
“I-I won’t,” He assures the distraught older man, eager to comfort him and stop his tears. “You can sleep in my bed tonight.”

:::::☆ ☆:::::

“Don’t go,” He mumbles.
“I-I’m not,” Morty replies. “I’m right here.”
/You’re in my bed/, he wants to say in exasperation.
“Don’t go to college,” Rick elucidates. Morty’s hand stills from where it still rests against Rick’s back and he suddenly pulls away, vexed.
“We talked about this, Rick. I want to go to college.” He tells the older man, his shoulders beginning to hunch with his ire.
“I can teach you anything you need to know,” Rick retorts hotly. “Florida is—that’s far away, Morty. That place—d-d-do you know how many murders happen there, Morty? I can turn on Dateline and watch five consecutive episodes of murder in that state.”
“C’mon, Rick,” Morty begins, annoyed. “You just want me to stay to be your human cloaking device.”
Rick grows silent at his words and Morty thinks for a brief moment that the argument has ended.
“Wh-wh-who’s going to—who’s going to save you?” Rick asks, voice soft, forlorn.
Morty rolls his eyes.
“I’m going to, to /college/, Rick—n-not war. I-I-I should be okay.”
Another beat of silence.
“Who’s going to save me?”
Morty’s brows furrowed and he looked down at his grandfather’s shaded face. He couldn’t discern his features but he had sounded almost fragile as he asked that question.

“…You’re thinking on scenarios that will never happen, Rick.” He finally says.
“Y-yeah, of course—I—“ Rick’s breath hitched and his next words warbled. “Fuck—d-d-don’t look, Morty.” He said and he turned away to scrub a vicious palm against his face.
Morty doesn’t say anything even as Rick finally turns back to him and presses his face against his hair. He doesn’t comment on the arm Rick throws over his body or the tears that settle wetly against his scalp.
Morty doesn’t say anything at all and he wonders if maybe he probably should have as he packs up the next day.

:::::☆ ☆:::::

Morty takes in the puffiness of Rick’s lids and the red that marbles his eyes as he approaches. There’s a slouch in his shoulder’s and a subdued pace to his gait that makes Morty’s mouth curl down into a sad frown.
“Are you okay?” Morty asked when Rick stopped next to his window and he feels like he’d asked Rick that question a thousands times now.
Rick ran a hand through his tousled hair before meeting Morty’s face solemnly.
“Yeah. Just—j-j-just thinking on scenarios that’ll never happen.” Morty’s mouth slides further down and Rick notices and shakes his head with a quiet huff.
“Y-you—you’re going to do great, Morty.”
The same elation that came with Rick’s praise filled his chest but it was stifled at Rick’s somber tone.
“Thanks, Rick,” He intoned softly when he realized that was all Rick was going to say. He started the car, put it into drive, and was just about to push down on the gas pedal when Rick leant in through the window and pressed his lips against his temple.
Morty’s breath hitched and he pressed briefly on the gas, lurching the car forward.
He swings his startled gaze to Rick.
“I love you, Morty,” Rick said and Morty’s mouth moved without sound. Rick turned away and walked back to the house before he could find his voice again.

:::::☆ ☆:::::

It isn’t until two weeks into school and Morty is half-way through a class that he is jolted with a sudden realization.
Rick hadn’t been—every time he’s told Morty he’d loved him he had been professing his love for him /romantically/!
/“Call me when you’re ready, alright?”/
His sentence suddenly makes sense and he is so startled by the epiphany that he abruptly stood up during the lecture and garnered everyone’s attention while doing so.
Rick-and-Morty  Rick/Morty  author:Blue10spades  romance  hurt/comfort  emotional-hurt/comfort  angst-with-a-happy-ending  incest  late-night-encounters  heavily-drunk!Rick  physical-support  love-confessions  hugs  vomiting  crying  cuddling  literally-sleeping-together  obliviousness  oblivious!Morty  pining  pining!Rick  mutual-pining  pining!Morty  parties/celebrations  sleep-deprivation  fatigue  realisation-of-feelings  fic  site:AO3  word-count:1-5k   
may 2018 by SHSL_Fangirl
The Reflection of Stars
As a resident of King Satsuki’s palace, you were often in contact with his friends and fellow royals. These friends included the infamous flirt and prince, Ryoichi. He was a man of great talent - a master of the written word, hard to understand, and even harder to ignore. Of two things, however, you were absolutely certain.

One, he would tease you until the day you died.

Two, he would /never/ fall in love with you.
Voltage-Inc.  Ryoichi/Reader  author:drawthecurtainstarttheplay  romance  angst-with-a-happy-ending  emotional-hurt/comfort  reader-insert  AU  Royal-AU  flirting  denial  jealousy  pining  pining!Reader  mutual-pining  voyeurism  accidental-voyeurism  sexual-content  obliviousness  oblivious!Reader  arguments  indirect-love-confessions  avoidance  realisation-of-feelings  crying  love-confessions  hugs  loss-of-virginity  clitoral-stimulation  fic  site:Tumblr  word-count:5-10k   
may 2018 by SHSL_Fangirl
Feel You in My Bones
There would have been nothing unusual about the dreams at all, really, if Morty hadn't woken after each and every one with a fierce and unrelenting erection.
Morty was surprised how much it hurt when he finally realised that he wasn't Rick's original Morty. It struck him in the center of his chest and spread to the tips of his fingers, a strange sort of grief.

:::::☆ ☆:::::

Late one night, as he lay in bed not sleeping, Morty's phone rang. The number was long and unfamiliar, and his blood stopped cold.

"Hello?" Morty answered quickly, and hoped his voice wouldn't sound as desperate through the receiver as it did in the loneliness of his room.

No voice answered, only the muffled honking of passing cars and heavy footsteps falling on pavement. Distantly, the 'aga blagh blagh' of a loud Garblovian could be heard.

Morty felt heavy with all the things that he wanted to say, but none of them seemed to make it any further than the tip of his tongue.

"Come home, Rick." He said at last, a simple, fervent plea.

A long, pained exhale was the only reply, and the line cut out.

Morty let the phone fall out of his hand and on to the pillow, feeling somehow more hollow than before.

:::::☆ ☆:::::

The next day at school, as Morty watched his feet fall on the hall's checkered laminate floor, something Rick had once said to him swam unbidden to the forefront of his mind. '/It goes without saying that the Rickest Rick would have the Mortiest Morty/,' the voice rang in his head. Morty felt like an idiot. He should have known, even then, that Rick wasn't talking about him.

:::::☆ ☆:::::

"You're my grandson." Rick replied at last, soft and sober. "It's wrong."

Morty was shocked, before bursting into laughter, loud and harsh. Of all the excuses he had expected from Rick, this was the worst.  

Morty knew about grandparents. They were lame Christmas presents under the tree, awkward Thanksgiving dinners across an unfamiliar table, birthday cards in the mail. They were lipstick-smearing kisses and 'look at how much you've grown', or 'how old are you now, my boy?' or 'you look so like your father did at your age'. Rick was about as far away from being a grandparent as you could get.

:::::☆ ☆:::::

"I'm not even 'your' Morty!" He shouted, suddenly furious. "That-that eye patch Morty, that 'evil' Morty," he took a deep, shuddering breath, and thought, /I'm finally saying it/. "He's your real Morty, isn't he? I'm just a - a replacement!"

A dark cloud passed over Rick's face, and all the gentleness in him was gone.

"Is that fuck - is that what you fucking think?" Rick thundered, and Morty took a hasty step back. "You think I-I-I - that I /abandoned/ my real grandson in that fucking Morty-torture dimension and what, murdered your grandpa to steal his family?"

/Well, yes/, Morty thought, all his confidence shaken.

"H-he, what he did, the way he looked at you," Morty stammered. "He hates you-"

"He hates /every/ Rick," Rick retorted bitingly. "Because his Rick was some evil asshole who - who didn't keep his distance, okay? Who took more than - who got too fucking close!"

Realisation dawned on Morty in a terrible, long sweep.

:::::☆ ☆:::::

"It won't be enough." Rick ground out, as though every word were painful to say. "Whatever you give me, i-it won't - I'll want more. I want it all."

"I know." He said. He'd always known. Once would never be enough, for either of them.

"I'm a selfish bastard, Morty." Rick threatened. "I'll take it. I'll take what I want from you."

"It's already yours." Morty replied, reaching for the collar of his coat.

Rick's expression faltered. Morty could see the cogs in his brain turning at light speed, searching for the right thing to say to make him understand. "I'm not going to keep saying no, Morty."

"Then don't." Morty said, as he dragged Rick's mouth back down to meet his own.

:::::☆ ☆:::::

"This isn't gonna have a happy ending, Morty." Rick's voice rumbled beside him. "It'd have to be a secret, from everyone we know."

"Yeah." Morty replied. He had been keeping secrets for as long as he could remember.

"And I'm not getting any younger. Well, unless Operation Phoenix 2.0 succeeds-"

"Rick, listen." Morty interrupted, turning his head to look at his grandfather's face. "I'm not here with you because you're, like, the best choice out of a list of - of viable candidates, okay? There's no one else. Never going to be anyone else, I think. And I've... I'm okay with that. I mean, shit, Rick, how many people ever get what we have, anyway? O-our adventures, if they've taught me anything, it's that there's so little happiness in the universe, you can't let any of it slip away, you know? And this, being here with you... this makes me happy."

:::::☆ ☆:::::

The Citadel was, as always, filled with Ricks and Mortys milling about together, standing, sitting, talking. But now Morty saw, there was something off about them; in the way they angled their bodies toward each other, a subtle difference in the nature of their expressions, a softness reflected in their eyes.

/It can't be/-

"Hey, come on, buddy," the Morty behind him complained. "You're, you know, you're holding up the line here."

"You're going to have to wait a moment, sir," the Security Morty replied. "This Morty hasn't written a date night into his contract yet."

"What?" A Morty further down the queue piped up. "Y-you gotta have at least one date night, man. And like, w-what are your signals? How are you gonna know when you're needed in the garage and when you're '/needed in the garage/'? You gotta think about this stuff!"


"Come on, man!"

"Get your shit together!"

At the Security Morty's insistence, Morty stepped out of the line, contract held weakly in his hands as orders to review his requests echoed dully in his ears.

Morty found his Rick standing in the center of the grounds, indelicately rinsing his mouth out with the contents of his flask and spitting into a nearby water fountain.

"Guess we all caved." Rick said as Morty approached him, completely unsurprised.

"We..." Morty breathed, as all around them, for every conceivable dimension within the central finite curve, there stood a Rick and a Morty, hovering just a little too close, gazing at each other just a little too long. "Were we the last ones?"

"Looks like it." Rick belched, kicking his heel against the side of the fountain, dislodging a sapling from the sole of his shoe.

Morty couldn't believe it. Somehow, in the space of a single day, they had gone from being completely irredeemable perverts to something approaching normality. He regarded the crowd with wonder, felt tension begin to ease itself from his shoulders as his gaze caught on one Rick in particular, holding his Morty's hand somewhat sheepishly.

"Ugh, how embarrassing." Rick groused beside him. "Hey, Z-501! You carry his pu/OHU/rse for him too?" He called, and loudly imitated the sound of a whip cracking.

Morty couldn't help but laugh, and Rick grinned at him in response, held his gaze. It was love, Morty realised then. Their own fucked up, messy version of it, but love all the same.

Morty turned away. "Wow, these Mortys," he said, clearing his throat. "They're really making some changes around here, huh, Rick?"

"Yeah, w-who knows?" Rick said. "Maybe they'll get their shit together, start the, uh, Interdimensional Council of Mortys." He shrugged, taking a swill from his flask and swishing it around his mouth again. "Anything is possible."

"Yeah," Morty smiled. "Anything is possible."

Morty leaned into Rick's side, and felt the man's hand come to rest on the small of his back. It was warm, as natural as breathing, ever so slightly possessive, and it made Morty's heart sing.

"Yo, C-137! Get a ro/OUO/om, loser!"
Rick-and-Morty  Rick/Morty  author:E707  romance  angst-with-a-happy-ending  hurt/comfort  humour  minor-Morty/OFC  incest  underage  dreams  pining  pining!Morty  mutual-pining  Evil-Morty  deduction  R&M-adventures  fantasies  attacks  blood  near-death  arguments  nightmares  feigning-sleep  wet-dreams  heavily-drunk!Rick  accidents  vomiting  physical-support  avoidance  disappearances  running-away  phone-calls  confrontations  punching  Spanish  confessions  misunderstandings  sexual-content  blowjobs  frottage  possessiveness  cuddling  fic  site:AO3  word-count:10-20k      ! 
april 2018 by SHSL_Fangirl
The Rick One for Me
Rick and Morty AU: on your 16th birthday, marks start showing up on your body that correspond to wounds or bruises suffered by your soulmate.
A jolt of possessiveness suddenly surged through him and he grasped Rick’s arm and stared at the old man breathing softly in sleep. He would keep it a secret for now…no telling how everyone would react. A small smile wound its way across Morty’s face as he softly whispered, “Y-you were right, Rick…my soulmate is a piece of shit. But he’s mine. Y-you belong to me, Rick,” a halting pause, “m-mmotherfucker.”

:::::☆ ☆:::::

“D-d-don’t w-worry Morty, I won’t—” Rick put his hands up palm-forward toward his grandson…anything to put distance between them. He couldn’t—he’d ruin Morty. “The-these are nothing, Morty, nothing has to change between us. I w-won’t touch you, d-don’t—”

“Wh-what do you mean!?” Morty’s confused expression twisted into one of frustration as he took a shaky step toward Rick, “Y-y-you—I—our marks match! Why don’t you want to touch me?”

Those words snapped Rick out of his guilt-induced panic, and he fixed Morty with a piercing glare—he had to be imagining things, “M-morty, I’m…I’m your grandfather—”

Morty’s voice raised an octave as he ranted and stomped angrily toward Rick, “Y-y-yeah no sh-shit, Rick! But you’re /mine/. If-if you think now that I know who my soulmate is I’m-I’m-I’m j-just gonna l-let y-you try to suddenly grow a conscience—” Reaching up, Morty grabbed the front of Rick’s shirt in both hands and before he could second guess himself, he yanked Rick down and pulled him into a clumsy, graceless kiss, knocking his front teeth against Rick’s. They both recoiled from the sharp clack of their teeth, but only for a split second before Morty, still clutching Rick by the fistful, dragged him back for a second attempt.
Rick-and-Morty  Rick/Morty  author:gothboobs  romance  light-angst  POV-switch  incest  underage  AU  Soulmate-AU  pining  mutual-pining  pining!Rick  observation  fantasies  attacks  hurt!Rick  punctures  lacerations  blood  loss-of-consciousness  hospitalisation  bedside-vigils  birthdays  possessiveness  R&M-adventures  confined-together  massages  gifts  hurt!Morty  flirting  sexual-content  masturbation  neck-play  hickeys  blowjobs  hair-pulling  cuddling  two-shot  site:AO3  word-count:5-10k     
april 2018 by SHSL_Fangirl
Romance is Dead
Morty goes to college and thinks about Rick's feelings for him.
“D-do you think you’re gonna be, gonna be allowed to keep going on adventures with me if y-y-you come home stumbling drunk? Do you even know what’s in here, Morty? You’ve got no tolerance, Morty, you’ll be drunk as a skunk.”

“Maybe I-I don’t /want/ to go on adventures with you anymore, Rick, ever think of that?” Morty half-yelled, wishing Rick wasn’t right about his low tolerance.

Rick’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Why wouldn’t you want to go anymore, Morty?”

Mouth dropping open, Morty scoffed and asked, “Really? Y-you have no idea why I wouldn’t, wouldn’t want to come along with you anymore?”

“Is this about you going off to college, Morty, because that’s not going to stop our adventures, you know? I-I can portal to your school and pick you up-“

“No, Rick, Jesus, I don’t want you to come pick me up at school!” Morty said hotly. “I don’t want to g-go anywhere else with you!”

Rick was silent for a long moment, long enough for Morty to bristle with anger again, before saying, “It’s about the kiss.” It wasn’t a question.

Morty’s face flushed, hearing Rick say it out loud. “D-duh.”

Heaving out a sigh, Rick drank deeply from his flask. “Goddamn M-Morty, you’re such a little-URP-such a little bitch. Just get over it already.”

A crazed look came into Morty’s eyes and he twisted in his seat to face Rick. “/Get over it/? Y-y-you kissed me! You’re my f-fucking grandpa and you kissed me!”

Rick brought the spaceship to an abrupt halt. “Listen, /Morty/, d-don’t read into things so much. A kiss, that ain’t no thang. It was nothing. It meant nothing.”

The statement hit Morty like a punch in the gut. He could still remember the feeling of Rick’s wet, chapped lips on his, his warm tongue probing his mouth, Rick’s hands fisted in his shirt. He’d spent the better part of two weeks agonizing over it, the wrongness of it, the way it’d made him feel to be kissed by his grandfather, trying to decipher his feelings about it, and now Rick was telling him it didn’t /matter/? “F-fuck you, Rick.”
Rick-and-Morty  Rick/Morty  author:itsnotmeitsyouxxx  romance  angst-with-a-happy-ending  emotional-hurt/comfort  humour  minor-Morty/Jessica  incest  strained/broken-friendships  arguments  flirting  pining  pining!Morty  mutual-pining  fantasies  reconciliation  sexual-content  masturbation  jealousy  dirty-talk  neck-play  blowjobs  praise-kink  cuddling  misunderstandings  parties/celebrations  possessiveness  hugs  begging  site:AO3  word-count:5-10k   
april 2018 by SHSL_Fangirl
Childish Drawings
Summary: A soulmate AU where anything you write on your skin appears on the exact place on your soulmate’s skin.

Imagine Rick puzzling over why his arm is suddenly filled with childish doodles after decades of wondering why his skin never showed any soulmate writing.
When Rick was 16, he discovered that he could make a device to see his soulmate. After slaving away for one full year, it was complete. He remembered how excited he was when it was finished and he turned it on.

But he was meet with disappointment. For he saw nothing. At first he thought the machine wasn't working, but after checking and double checking and even triple checking, it showed that the machine was completely operational. But the screen showed...nothing. Just black.

In a rage Rick had destroyed the machine. Completely crushing one full year of non stop work and dedication. Rick came to the conclusion he didn't have a soulmate and would be alone forever. So be it.
Rick-and-Morty  Rick/Morty  author:ShaggyMadi  romance  angst-with-a-happy-ending  emotional-hurt/comfort  incest  underage  AU  Soulmate-AU  soul-connections  drawings  running-away  pining  pining!Rick  mutual-pining  accidental-self-incrimination  avoidance  confrontations  crying  love-confessions  hugs  flashbacks  mild-sexual-content  neck-play  biting  flirting  movies  mild-OOCness  incomplete  in-progress  site:AO3  word-count:5-10k 
april 2018 by SHSL_Fangirl
All Messed Up in You
Morty has been indulging his secret shame with online image boards. Rick has been trying to ignore his. Neither method makes this mutual pining easier. A Saturday alone changes everything when Morty helps Rick with a hurt knee.
“Tell me. T-tell me what you were doing with m-my shirt. A-and... my underwear Rick.”

Rick wanted to shoot a portal to somewhere extremely far away. But his portal gun was conveniently downstairs, so instead he planted his fists on his hips and huffed, rolling his eyes. “It's not what you're thinking, Morty.”

“Is it not?” Morty asked in such a thin, strained voice that Rick felt a pang in his chest. “I-if that's true, then... say it again. I'll believe you.” He put his hands on the sides of his head, eyes falling to the floor. “Cause maybe... y-y'know, m-my mind is pretty messed up, and I coulda just saw it the wrong way. If that's the case, if I am crazy or stupid, tell me. A-a-and I'll forget what I saw.”

The fists that Rick had pressed to his hips grew weak, and they slipped, arms dangling heavily at his sides. His throat felt tight, and he swallowed a lump. Morty was giving him an out, and it'd be stupid not to take it.

“It was,” Rick said, his voice just above a whisper, “not what you're thinking.”

With that, Rick turned. He put his hand on the door frame, then let go and stepped forward.

“Yeah. Heh,” Morty said, fiddling his fingers in front of his stomach. “I-I guess if you'd walked in on me last night- on me with pictures of naked old men on my laptop last night... I guess I'd tell you it wasn't what you thought, too.”

:::::☆ ☆:::::

Having his dick sucked was a shock to Morty’s senses. This was an entirely new sensation of hot wetness and the varied pressures of Rick’s tongue. Even the occasional bumps of Rick’s back teeth as he shoved into a cheek weren’t entirely unpleasant. Sure this didn’t have the instant intensity and tightness of a closed, lubed fist, but watching Rick’s head rock back and forth as if to the beat of a song, feeling the way his mouth was attacking his dick in a hundred different ways, brought Morty to a fast boil. This was Rick, the man whose domineering personality was equal parts intimidating, insulting, and infatuating, and here he was sucking his dick.
Rick-and-Morty  Rick/Morty  author:TripleX_Tyrant  romance  light-angst  hurt/comfort  humour  alternating-POV  incest  pining  pining!Morty  mutual-pining  pining!Rick  sexual-content  porn-viewing  masturbation  fantasies  wet-dreams  observation  accidents  hurt!Rick  caught-masturbating  avoidance  confrontations  indirect-love-confessions  hugs  dirty-talk  possessiveness  loss-of-virginity  frottage  blowjobs  doggy-style  cuddling  one-shot  site:AO3  word-count:10-20k   
april 2018 by SHSL_Fangirl
grab the rings of saturn
Komaeda takes up gardening.
(Or, Hinata Hajime has three things: horrible self esteem, a crush on the human embodiment of debilitating depression, and no idea what to do about any of it.)
"I don't have any dirt on me today." He pauses, and Hinata swears that if he starts to talk about it not mattering anyway because he himself is the worst kind of filth that could possibly exist or whatever sideways nonsense goes on in that messed up little head of his, he's going to strangle... someone. Not necessarily Komaeda. Potentially himself. But someone.

Fortunately for both of them, Komaeda doesn't take his words down that particular path of self-loathing. "At least... I don't think that I do,” is what he says instead, turning his hands over and studying his gloves and the very tops of his wrists, metal and skin, barely visible from underneath his jacket. "I don't, do I?" he asks, once he's satisfied with everything he can see, turning his face towards Hinata, as if waiting to be inspected, head cocked slightly as he waits for a response.

Hinata moves without thinking. "Actually..." He trails off at about the moment his brain starts screaming /what in the absolute *fuck* do you think you are doing Hinata Hajime I swear to God/ at him, just a second too late– he's already leaned in, hand outstretched, and all he can do is watch himself in horror, distantly, as though drowning, as he brushes the tiny crescent of dirt off the tip of Komaeda's nose with his thumb.


:::::☆ ☆:::::

"You don't seem too upset by it,” Hinata notes, and Komaeda's hands still their work.

"Well..." He shifts uncomfortably, and a gloved hand comes up to rub nervously at the back of his neck. "I've sort of had... a shift in perspective regarding my luck, recently."

Hinata raises an eyebrow. "Oh?"

Komaeda sighs, staring resolutely down into his lap to avoid Hinata's eyes. It's odd to see him so evasive– usually, Komaeda is blunt, brutal honestly, open to the point where it's uncomfortable, not quiet reluctance and unwillingness to explain himself. "Well... It's difficult to explain."

"Try me,” Hinata says, and he really hopes it comes off sounding the way he wants it to, with a silent "I have nothing better to do" lurking beneath it. He hopes that Komaeda can't hear the ugly, desperate way he means it, where the thought that lingers at the edge of his words is "Please, please tell me. I want to understand you."

Whichever way it sounds to Komaeda, it seems to be enough to make him uncurl slightly, to make him look away from his daisies, not exactly /at/ Hinata but not avoiding him, either, instead watching the tangle of dead blackberries over his shoulder. "I can understand how my luck might look to someone talentless. Someone like you."

"Ouch," Hinata replies mildly. Of course, the remark is more of a press on an old bruise than a fresh cut, but he doesn't mind giving Komaeda a semblance of the reaction he's looking for if it's going to get an explanation out of him.

Komaeda bites his lip, clearly lacking confidence in his next words. "Having a talent as volatile as mine is means that I've never been able to feel... /Safe/ before,” he says, tongue stumbling and tripping over the sentence as he goes. "No matter what it brought me... even if it was something good... it always felt /empty/. Whenever anything fortunate happened, it was always overshadowed by the thought of /how long? What next?/" He runs a hand through his hair, exhaling deeply, and suddenly Hinata is acutely aware of how fucking /exhausted/ he looks, deep, heavy bags like dark half-rings of Saturn curving under his eyes, which gaze blankly onwards into nothing. Komaeda has the bony, bruised body of someone who's never been able to stop running, of someone who has had the earth slip from underneath their feet and crashed through the dirt time and time again. "Can you even imagine what it's /like/?” he asks, half of that awful, despairing laugh of his tumbling from his mouth with the words, and Hinata remembers glitching palm trees and the wide, cacophonous ocean, remembers chasing glowing strawberries across the walls of the funhouse and the way the smell of blood clung to his clothes, to his hair. He remembers the /feeling/ most of all, when he lies awake in his bed at night, as he listens to the sea hiss and slap at the shore outside his slowly rotting cabin. The anticipation and the uncertainty, clawing at his brain. That constant cry: /who's next? who's next? who's next?/

"You'd be surprised." His voice is scratchy and rough as he speaks, clinging to his throat. No wonder Komaeda had seemed so unphased by the killing, he thought. He had long grown used to the waiting by then.

:::::☆ ☆:::::

"Seriously, Hinata, I don't see why you're worried about how Komaeda's gonna react to you telling him about your big old crush on him. Dude thinks you hung the moon."

"But I /didn't/," Hinata says, and feels the room go still around him. "I didn't. And that's exactly what the problem is."

"You don't think you're good enough for him." It's a statement, not a question, but Hinata feels like he has to respond to Sonia, anyway.

"No. Yes. Sort of. I don't know." He shakes his head. "Komaeda doesn't care about /me/. Komaeda cares about talent, and I don't have any that's my own. And he's going to realise that, some day, that I'm not /talented/, or /special/, or /important/, the way he thinks I am, and then..." He trails off, chewing on his lip. "And then he'll stop caring, won't he?"

:::::☆ ☆:::::

"Komaeda..." Although he knows it's a bad idea, Hinata can't stop himself from reaching out and grabbing Komaeda's hand, earning a muffled squeak of surprise in response. "Of /course/ I don't think it's wrong of you. I think it's /amazing/ ” he finishes. Komaeda stares back at him, other hand pressed to his lips, wide-eyed and wonderful, and Hinata feels like he might /actually/ start crying. "Komaeda, you deserve to be happy. You've always deserved to be happy. You know that, right?"

Komaeda blinks at him, like it's something he's considering for the first time.

:::::☆ ☆:::::

"You need to take better care of yourself, Komaeda,” he mutters, as kindly as he can in his worried, distracted haze, cupping Komaeda's face with both hands and staring at the pink blush of his skin, barely noticing that their foreheads are almost touching until Komaeda gives a brief, wheezing giggle, eyes still half lidded, but with a light shining behind them that makes Hinata's chest feel strangely tight.

"What?" he asks, voice somewhere between confused and exasperated, and Komaeda gives a small, weak shrug.

"If I didn't know better, Hinata, I'd think you were about to kiss me."
Danganronpa  Hinata/Komaeda  author:plantegg  SDR2  post-SDR2  post-SDR2.5  DR3  post-DR3  DR3/Hope  post-canon  romance  humour  emotional-hurt/comfort  hurt/comfort  minor-Gundam/Sonia  minor-Nidai/Owari  pining!Hinata  Hinata-is-awkward  oblivious!Hinata  Komaeda’s-prosthesis  Gundam’s-hamsters  Owari-plays-relationship-advisor  pining  mutual-pining  observation  hugs  obliviousness  romantic-advice  realisation-of-feelings  prosthetic-arms/hands  bets  heatstroke  fever  gardening  clovers  flowers  flower-pressing  one-shot  site:AO3  word-count:10-20k     
march 2018 by SHSL_Fangirl
Dreaming of Harry
The first night Draco Malfoy dreams of Harry Potter, everything changes.
Draco rolls his eyes. Only Potter. While Draco gets prison cells and nights that fill with the whispers of lost souls, Potter gets hugged to death. “It won’t happen again.”

“It doesn’t matter if it does.” Potter’s eyes dart from Draco’s face. He seems fascinated by a spot on the wall and he doesn’t look at Draco head on. Pink spots bloom high in his cheeks and he nudges his glasses onto his nose. “I’ve been working with the Ministry to try to get you out as soon as possible.”

“Why?” Draco sits back in his seat with a huff, picking at his thumbnail.

“Because,” Potter says. “You’re not supposed to be in here.”

Draco listens to Potter talk, but he still can’t quite believe he’s real.
Harry-Potter  Draco/Harry  author:Writcraft  post-DH  Hogwarts-Eighth-Year  romance  angst-with-a-happy-ending  emotional-hurt/comfort  dreams  wet-dreams  recurring-dreams  crying  pining  pining!Draco  mutual-pining  hugs  imprisonment  observation  late-night-encounters  scars  attacks  lacerations  blood  hurt!Draco  accidents  handshakes  flirting  nonverbal-spells  Levitation-Charm  jealousy  coming-out  experiments  flying  flying-together  blowjobs  begging  literally-sleeping-together  one-shot  site:AO3  word-count:10-20k     
march 2018 by SHSL_Fangirl
Two Weeks
If Harry had to guess which out of he or his Auror Partner, and tentative new friend, Draco Malfoy, would turn out to have Veela ancestry, his answer would be: neither, because that is ridiculous. Finding out the answer is actually /him/, and that his Veela heritage is wreaking havoc on his ability to work, sleep, and above all be in the same room as Malfoy, is a surprise to say the least. But this is fine. Harry’s been through worse, and he can just sit this one out, regardless of how much his body is screaming for the one person he doesn’t want to ask for help. Can’t he?
Harry-Potter  Draco/Harry  author:shiftylinguini  post-Hogwarts  EWE  romance  angst-with-a-happy-ending  hurt/comfort  emotional-hurt/comfort  pining  pining!Harry  mutual-pining  irritability  hurt!Draco  attacks  burns  hospitalisation  avoidance  insomnia  fatigue  wet-dreams  Muggle-technology  masturbation  fantasies  dizziness  possessiveness  weight-loss  phone-calls  phone-sex  dirty-talk  baths  scars  nausea  frottage  riding  hair-pulling  literally-sleeping-together  massages  love-confessions  one-shot  site:AO3  word-count:20-30k     
march 2018 by SHSL_Fangirl
Good to Me (And I'd Be So Good to You)
Everyone returns to Hogwarts after the war, but nothing is quite the same. Harry's groupies are creepier than ever, Ron and Hermione are snogging all over the place, and the once-proud Draco is shuffling around like a kicked puppy. But that's okay: Harry's got a plan.
Harry-Potter  Draco/Harry  author:AWickedMemory  post-DH  Hogwarts-Eighth-Year  romance  humour  light-angst  minor-Ron/Hermione  manipulation  shopping  observation  realisation-of-feelings  pining  mutual-pining  Schrödinger’s-dating  arguments  love-confessions  one-shot  site:AO3  word-count:5-10k     
march 2018 by SHSL_Fangirl
The Name on Your Forehead
The Weasley twin’s latest invention, a glitter-bomb that causes the name of your crush to appear across your forehead, wrecks havoc among the students of Hogwarts. As usual, Harry’s the one who bears the brunt of it.

Excerpt: Malfoy’s eyes narrow and he comes to a stop, only a few paces from Harry. ‘I wouldn’t expect you to understand,’ he spits. ‘After all, your whole face is one big spell-gone-wrong, isn’t it, scarhead?’
Harry ignores the insult, opting to change the topic instead. ‘So, whose name is it then, Malfoy?’ He asks, and as soon as the question is out Malfoy’s eyes slide from his and a glorious red blush creeps up his neck. ‘Someone embarrassing, I bet. McGonagall? Madam Pomfrey? Your Father?’ /That last one might have been going a little too far/, Harry thinks, but really, he just couldn’t resist.
He’s never been able to resist when it comes to Malfoy.
Harry-Potter  Draco/Harry  author:Kiarawolf  romance  humour  light-angst  minor-Ron/Hermione  observation  avoidance  sexual-content  wet-dreams  masturbation  pining  pining!Harry  mutual-pining  fights  deduction  blowjobs  semi-public-sex  misunderstandings  manipulation  indirect-love-confessions  site:AO3  word-count:10-20k 
march 2018 by SHSL_Fangirl
Mirror Maze
A short sequel to 'The If Sieve'. There's a maze in the cellar at Grimmauld Place. It has something to do with memories, and it's hiding a Horcrux.

[Part 2 of the ‘If Sieve’ series; sequel to ‘The If Sieve’]
Draco chanced a look at him and almost bit his tongue. Potter was flushed and staring, his eyes glued to the two boys in the mirror. Mirror Draco had Potter up against the far wall, now, his hands clenching in the front of his pyjamas, one hand sliding underneath, making Potter gasp and arch. Real Potter's eyes kept flicking to the Watcher Draco standing behind the boys in the memory, though. He was staring as avidly as Potter was, his mouth open and his breathing uneven. One hand opened and shut against his side as though he wanted to reach out.

:::::☆ ☆:::::

"I didn't know," Potter said again, his mouth moving from Draco's lips to his cheek, his head tilting to press into Draco's neck. "You never —"

"It was completely obvious," Draco mumbled.

Potter laughed, breathless. "It was not. You're impossible to read."
Harry-Potter  Draco/Harry  author:cest_what  post-HBP  Hogwarts-Seventh-Year  canon-divergence  romance  humour  light-angst  Horcrux-hunt  Horcruxes  mazes  observation  referenced-child-abuse  pining  pining!Draco  mutual-pining  sequel  one-shot  site:AO3  word-count:5-10k     
march 2018 by SHSL_Fangirl
Neku meets a new girl from Texas named Lillian Martin and there's just something about her that draws him in.
Two weeks passed. Joshua received a message from Neku to Lillian about getting her address to send the care package to. He described the wonderful things in the box-orange cream pocky sticks, panda cookies, Cinnamoroll keychains and socks, and a variety of other silly things. Eventually, Joshua would need to make up an address, and he fibbed in his message.

/I don’t have a firm address yet./

Neku’s response was immediate.

/Well, you know, I could just leave it at the sewer./
The-World-Ends-with-You  Joshua/Neku  author:ImperfectOrphanage  post-TWEWY  post-Week-3  romance  pre-slash  humour  angst-with-a-happy-ending  emotional-hurt/comfort  alternating-POV  changes-in-appearance  high-school  disguises  crossdressing  glamours  disguised-to-bond  trope:You-Remind-Me-of-X  pining  pining!Joshua  mutual-pining  crying  hurt!Joshua  Hanekoma-raised-Joshua  goodbye-messages  deduction  confrontations  one-shot  site:AO3  word-count:5-10k     
march 2018 by SHSL_Fangirl
As a fanfiction writer, Kokichi was prepared for every situation ranging from posting a new chapter with a typo to losing an entire draft. He was well aware that some of his classmates read his work, including his beta reader Tsumugi and frequent commenter Miu.

That being said, he had no idea what to do about his crush somehow finding his fanfiction and starting to read them.
Kokichi laughed. “But that was just a lie, you know. I don’t really think about Saihara-chan that way.”

“No, that wasn’t a lie,” Rantarou said. He paused to point at Kokichi’s chest. “You were speaking from your heart, not your head. I don’t know about you, but I find the heart to be much more truthful about what it wants.”

It was oddly poetic in a way, Rantarou smiling at him with the warmth of the sun and pointing at him like he would tease a little brother. It would have been a heartwarming moment Kokichi would have taken note of for future use had Rantarou not just exposed his lies.

“Woah, looks like Amami-chan caught me!” Kokichi sang tunelessly. His smile twitched. “Fine. I may or may not have a tiny crush on Saihara-chan.”

“You liar. That crush is bigger than Great Pyramids.”

“Oh, shut up, I know,” Kokichi spat, bitterness filling him. “I know what I’m lying about.”

Rantarou stared at him. His smile had been wiped clean off his face. “Then do you know you’re lying to yourself about how Saihara-kun feels?”
Danganronpa  Saihara/Ouma  author:megastarstrike  NDRV3  romance  humour  emotional-hurt/comfort  alternating-POV  AU  Non-Despair-AU  Everybody-Lives/Nobody-Dies-AU  Hope’s-Peak-Academy  high-school  observation  pining  pining!Ouma  pining!Saihara  mutual-pining  flirting  fake-crying  Ouma’s-fake-crying  indirect-kisses  obliviousness  oblivious!Saihara  deduction  romantic-advice  confrontations  sleep-deprivation  self-neglect  crying  oblivious!Ouma  misunderstandings  jealousy  matchmaking  indirect-love-confessions  love-confessions  fic  site:AO3  word-count:20-30k     
february 2018 by SHSL_Fangirl
In the Dead of a Hot Summer's Night
It was when Shuichi was down on his knees, his hand stuck far down the tight crevice between his badly put together wardrobe, courtesy of his closest friend who figured himself a professional carpenter, and the damp paint peeling off of the wall, when he heard the thump.
Confused and apprehensive, Shuichi looked over his shoulder to see a short young man slip from underneath the curtain, and of course, like any sane person, Shuichi did absolutely nothing but gently clear his throat.
Shuichi's life just gets a whole hell of a lot more stressful from there.
Danganronpa  Saihara/Ouma  author:Lenasaurous  NDRV3  romance  humour  emotional-hurt/comfort  hurt/comfort  angst-with-a-happy-ending  minor-Momota/Harukawa  past-Saihara/Akamatsu  AU  Non-Despair-AU  College/University-AU  Phantom-Thief-AU  Phantom-Thief!Ouma  first-meetings  mind-games  gifts  job-interviews  held-at-knifepoint  guns  held-at-gunpoint  observation  shadowing  flirting  heists  fake-crying  Ouma’s-fake-crying  hurt!Saihara  crying  festivals  deduction  grief  avoidance  strained/broken-friendships  reconciliation  realisation-of-feelings  pining  pining!Saihara  mutual-pining  investigations  loss-of-consciousness  headaches  restraints  blindfolds  held-hostage  interrogations  fractures  dosing  crutches  love-confessions  hugs  literally-sleeping-together  fic  site:AO3  word-count:30-40k     
february 2018 by SHSL_Fangirl
we only have each other
Elsa and Hans make their way down the mountain, battling the winter elements, assassination attempts, and painful personal history - small change compared to what's in store for them back home.
/Fear is like a skeleton. It’s what builds you into the person you are, and it keeps you that way./
Frozen  Hans/Elsa  author:perennial  romance  angst-with-a-happy-ending  emotional-hurt/comfort  canon-divergence  alternating-POV  minor-Hans/Anna  minor-Kristoff/Anna  restraints  observation  concussions  dizziness  hurt!Elsa  horse-riding  nightmares  avalanches  loss-of-consciousness  hugs  imprisonment  vertigo  misunderstandings  hurt!Hans  blood  fatigue  crying  near-death  grief  healing-tears  parties/celebrations  reconciliation  dancing  pining  pining!Elsa  mutual-pining  fic  site:AO3  word-count:40-50k     
february 2018 by SHSL_Fangirl
woke up with your name
"It's an ancient curse against all those born into the royal bloodline," his governess says.

(or, /"Elsa was preferable, of course, but no one was getting anywhere with her."/ Well, yes. But that doesn't mean he's just going to /give up/.)
It's easiest when all he has to do is react. People are so sloppy with their ambitions, their thoughts spilling out of them like oil, and it's no effort at all to be like ice in return and reflect it back without any of it polluting him.

Trying to mirror a locked door is a challenge.
Frozen  Hans/Elsa  author:afterism  romance  angst-with-a-happy-ending  emotional-hurt/comfort  canon-divergence  alternating-POV  AU  Soulmate-AU  soul-connections  manipulation  deception  dancing  first-meetings  pining  mutual-pining  observation  eavesdropping  confrontations  avoidance  site:AO3  word-count:10-20k     
february 2018 by SHSL_Fangirl
the hardest thing i'll ever have to lie
“Look, Newbie,” he said, not even trying to hide the panic seeping into his voice this time as he started to back away. “Just go to bed. I’m leaving now, just -”

“I’m in love with you.”

He froze.

(or; JD gets drunk and Perry takes him home. JD makes a confession that has the potential to change, well, everything.)
“Do you remember,” he said hoarsely, “what you said last night, Newbie?”

JD felt his blood run cold. No, he didn’t remember what he’d said last night, but judging by the older man’s face, it hadn’t been anything good.
Scrubs  JD/Cox  author:lunarqueens  romance  angst-with-a-happy-ending  emotional-hurt/comfort  alternating-POV  bars/nightclubs  intoxication  hangovers  crying  headaches  pining  mutual-pining  pining!JD  pining!Cox  love-confessions  drunken-love-confessions  accidental-love-confessions  denial  avoidance  confrontations  hair-pulling  hugs  site:AO3  word-count:5-10k     
january 2018 by SHSL_Fangirl
With Your Crooked Heart
The words that appear on your wrist after birth lead you to your soulmate, so it should be no surprise to John that Sherlock's are blank, or that his own lead him to Sherlock.
SherlockBBC  Sherlock/John  author:positivelymeteoric  romance  angst-with-a-happy-ending  emotional-hurt/comfort  AU  Soulmate-AU  soul-connections  denial  pining  pining!John  mutual-pining  nightmares  punching  grief  nasal-trauma  blood  hurt!Sherlock  hugs  crying  reconciliation  jealousy  misunderstandings  fic  site:AO3  word-count:5-10k   
january 2018 by SHSL_Fangirl
Sherlock discovers why Watson is really bothered by the rumors about their relationship and his “confirmed bachelorhood.”
“You aren’t resentful of your bachelorhood, or cross because people think we’re romantically involved. You're mortified. You thought you were hiding your feelings so well, but everyone knows the truth. I’ve worked it out too.”

“Worked what out?” Watson stammers, exasperated. I nodded. “What else could there possibly be to discover? Didn’t you deduce everything there was to possibly know about me the moment we met?”

“The human mind is a beautiful thing, Watson. Ever changing, constantly adapting, and evolving. Over the last few months, /you/ have fallen in love with me. Don’t bother denying anything, it’s written all over your face.” John collapses into a chair and holds his head in his hands. I would have thought he’d be glad to know he doesn’t have to hide anymore.
SherlockBBC  Sherlock/John  author:mnstrtruckslash  romance  emotional-hurt/comfort  observation  deduction  pining  pining!John  mutual-pining  crying  one-shot  site:LJ  word-count:<1k     
january 2018 by SHSL_Fangirl
House works on making things better between himself and Cuddy only to have the fragility of their relationship tested by the one person who now stands to lose everything.
“How can you keep your eye on me if we’re in separate rooms?”

Wilson places his keys down. “I guess that’s a valid point.” And he looks at House, knowing that he won’t take him seriously, that there’s nothing to read there but the continued joke. Just once he wants to think that Wilson is only hiding behind it, and to pretend that things will work out exactly as he wants.

Maybe House was wrong about his resolve. Maybe it’s not strengthening, only weakening, because he’s already taken a step forward, he’s already leaning in.

When it becomes apparent that Wilson is not backing away, House stops. His nerve fails him. He didn’t think this through. This is too much.

He moves back to a more acceptable distance. “You were going to let me kiss you.”

Part 2:
HouseM.D.  House/Wilson  author:rividori  S7  Huddy-arc  romance  light-angst  humour  minor-House/Cuddy  confrontations  pining  pining!House  mutual-pining  bars/nightclubs  intoxication  flirting  moving-in-together  fic  site:LJ  word-count:1-5k     
january 2018 by SHSL_Fangirl
Black Coffee
When JD starts working morning shifts at the cafe, a regular he’d never met quickly becomes his favorite customer.
Scrubs  JD/Cox  author:cdawn1022  romance  AU  Coffee-Shop-AU  avoidance  observation  pining  pining!JD  mutual-pining  one-shot  site:AO3  word-count:1-5k 
january 2018 by SHSL_Fangirl
Needing James
It has been a few weeks since the Ketamine treatment worked, but now House can't sleep because all he can think about is wanting James.
HouseM.D.  House/Wilson  author:daisy1409354  S1/2/3  post-S2  romance  alternating-POV  living-together  pining  pining!House  mutual-pining  muscle-tension  massages  scars  sexual-content  wet-dreams  masturbation  dirty-talk  OOCness  one-shot  site:FFN  word-count:1-5k 
january 2018 by SHSL_Fangirl
Four Hands Piece
House makes the last discovery he needs to stop using his feelings for Chase as joking material.
"I felt like going for a change, a change that I could control," the intensivist answered, wearily, "why did you cut yours?"

"I didn't choose to do it you know, that kind of happens when you're in a mental clinic. People ruling out your free will and all that."

"It wasn't a boot camp and your hair was short enough, House."

"Well, you're right, it wasn't a boot camp. It was a hell worse than one."

"With you there, I've no doubts," pausing for an instant, trying to read something in those bright blue eyes and failing he added, "You wanna talk about it or just thought our conversation needed a dramatic turn?"

"Oh, you caught me. Did it work?"

"Not really."

"Damn. Should have added tears."
HouseM.D.  House/Chase  author:Nienna  S6  romance  light-angst  humour  alternating-POV  deduction  denial  pining  pining!House  mutual-pining  pining!Chase  flirting  dosing  piano-playing  sleep-deprivation  fatigue  drowsiness  punishment  observation  one-shot  site:FFN  word-count:1-5k     
december 2017 by SHSL_Fangirl
When House knocks himself out of it by taking too much cold medicine he accidentally blurts out some things to Chase that leave the younger man reeling.
"Jesus Christ," he moaned. He was going to have to undress House. House his boss. House who barely even liked him. House who he thought about every night as he wrapped his hand around his cock.

:::::☆ ☆:::::

House turned to him, clearly not amused. "Chase, I am not doing this. I thought I made that clear."

"Yeah you did, and you're full of crap," Chase argued. "You can't even have one conversation with me? That proves to me that you want this, you want me." Chase looked him over, the older man was studiously not looking him in the eye and he was breathing heavily. "Look at you," he said, his voice turning softer as he moved closer to House so that the older man backed up against the shelves. "Look what being close to me does to you," he said almost as if he couldn't believe it himself. How could he not have noticed this before? /Because House always makes sure not to get this close to me/, he realised.

:::::☆ ☆:::::

"It's amazing that you've been divorced four times," House said at Wilson's couple's therapy talk.

"Twice," Wilson was quick to correct.

"Soon to be three."

"Hmm," Wilson mused. "Well apparently I do much better at the psychology of male/male relationships."

"Maybe Chase has a friend?" House suggested casually.

"Do you think?" Wilson asked in mock interest. "That'd go down well in my divorce settlement."

"You could claim she drove you to it."

"It's amazing that you've /never/ been married."

:::::☆ ☆:::::

"You think loving House is a responsibility?"

"The biggest one," Wilson answered adamantly. "He doesn't let himself be vulnerable to anyone because if they know they can hurt him then they will. At least that's how he thinks. And yet he's allowed himself to trust you, to let you get close... at least closer than anybody's gotten in a long time. He's like a special needs child; he needs more patience, extra attention. When he's doing something stupid and usually damaging you're supposed to clap your hands and look impressed even if you really want to be talking him out of it. I let him think he's tricking me into buying him lunch everyday just so I can go to sleep at night knowing he's had at least one good meal, that he doesn't just live off Vicodin and scotch," he said holding up the bottle.
HouseM.D.  House/Chase  author:SassKitten  S1/2/3  S2  romance  hurt/comfort  humour  emotional-hurt/comfort  POV-switch  fatigue  colds  nasal-congestion  dizziness  delirium  possessiveness  physical-support  pining  pining!Chase  mutual-pining  pining!House  cuddling  love-confessions  accidental-love-confessions  literally-sleeping-together  avoidance  confrontations  games  birthdays  gifts  romantic-advice  first-dates  hair-pulling  sexual-content  blowjobs  masturbation  flirting  accidents  neck-play  hickeys  riding  semi-public-sex  biting  jealousy  mind-games  House’s-leg-pain  reconciliation  intoxication  moving-in-together  pets  hurt!House  fic  site:House-Fan-Fiction-Archive  word-count:20-30k     
december 2017 by SHSL_Fangirl
The Crystal Closet
Wilson starts acting oddly towards House and House wants to know why. When he gets his answer, it makes matters infinitely more complicated.
"So, I have something I need to tell you."

"This was all a ploy to get into my pants," House quipped easily around a mouthful of cake. "At least you were a gentleman and bought me dinner first."

Usually, Wilson would give him a withering look or, better yet, throw a flirtatious volley back. Usually. But, like had become the norm over the past two weeks, Wilson didn't flirt back. Most startlingly though, he confirmed one of House's theories about restaurant confessions and started to scoot out of the booth to leave. It seemed House had drastically underestimated how important this conversation was to Wilson because he was never this touchy.

"You've probably stolen a credit card or two of mine. Use one of them to pay. You already know how to forge my signature."

Much like all of Wilson's low blows, his remark was meant to disarm House on one subject long enough to distract him into picking up arms for another. Under any other circumstances, House probably would've fallen for it, too, because the Tritter chapter of his life still stung like a bitch, but not that night. He was done with the avoidance game Wilson had been playing.

:::::☆ ☆:::::

"Does this mean we can start flirting again?"

Wilson looked confused, but in an amused way. "What?"

"I'm guessing this little reveal is why you haven't been flirting with me for a few weeks. Cameron would flirt with me, but she would think I was being serious. Chase gets too flustered and even I don't have the balls to flirt with Foreman," he explained, his logic totally sound. "He'd murder me and Cuddy would alibi him. Also another person who won't flirt with me. I need to flirt, Wilson."

:::::☆ ☆:::::

"I can't -," he started, forced to stop to catch his breath. "I can't do this."

Wilson's breaths were ghosting over his face as he recovered, his face expressing hurt. "What are you talking about? You - you didn't enjoy that? Because there's evidence to the contrary."

There was a lot of evidence to show they both enjoyed it, but House couldn't get caught up in their usual banter.

"I can't just be another lay for you. I won't let myself amount to only another stop in your pursuit of happiness."

"You're not. You're... House, you're it," Wilson insisted, his brown eyes imploring House to believe him. "I want you, always have. I chased after women who were nothing like you in order to forget I wanted you. I cheated because the high of finding them always wore off. Coming out was freeing, but it was also... it was also awful. None of those men were you. It was almost worse." Wilson laughed, but it was self-deprecating and not really amused. "The way my therapist made me admit I was gay was by first getting me to admit I was in love with you. The rest came after. If you're just being, I don't know, kind and trying to let me down easy, don't. I can handle it. But don't pretend I just think of you as a pit stop. I wouldn't risk us for one night."
HouseM.D.  House/Wilson  author:VictoriaAGrey  S1/2/3  S3  romance  humour  light-angst  avoidance  deduction  flirting  coming-out  promiscuity  mutual-pining  love-confessions  one-shot  site:AO3  word-count:1-5k     
december 2017 by SHSL_Fangirl
They straightened clothing and washed their hands. They did not look at each other as they left the bathroom.
HouseM.D.  House/Chase  author:morgan_cian  S4  romance  angst  minor-Chase/Cameron  infidelity  sexual-content  masturbation  semi-public-sex  pining  mutual-pining  flashfic  site:AO3  word-count:<500   
december 2017 by SHSL_Fangirl
That Mythical Thing
House thinks Wilson needs to get laid. Wilson has questions.
“We really gotta get you laid,” House said. He eyed Wilson for a beat before casually adding, “If I have to plough that furrow myself, so be it.”

Wilson, as usual, offered no reaction to the innuendo. Hell, it wasn’t even innuendo, House thought; he might as well have said, /Why don’t I just fuck you?/

:::::☆ ☆:::::

“Valentine’s Day is in…huh, ten days. So you’ve got ten days to get out there and meet someone.”

Wilson let his head fall to the backrest. “House, what the hell? You never want me going near a woman—or anyone who isn’t you.”

House felt a pang of guilt at the truth of those words. “I know,” he said, lowering his voice. “But…I can’t let you hole yourself up in here with me anymore.”

Wilson lifted his head and turned toward him.

“You need to go out and actually try this time,” House said. He paused then and waited until Wilson’s eyes met his. “If you want someone, you have to make a move.”

Wilson just kept gazing at him, blinking slowly and letting those last words hang in the air. He was giving him the oddest look, and once again House was at a loss for how to read it.

[Sequel: ‘Conversion Disorder’]
HouseM.D.  House/Wilson  author:sassyjumper  S8  romance  pre-slash  humour  light-angst  pining  mutual-pining  pining!House  jealousy  flirting  one-shot  site:AO3  word-count:1-5k   
december 2017 by SHSL_Fangirl
Conversion Disorder
Sequel to That Mythical Thing, wherein House gave Wilson a second ten-day challenge to find a date. Here's how that went.
He stood frozen on the spot, debating whether to go with his gut or actually honor Wilson’s right—no, /need/—to interact with others. That was when Wilson looked his way and made eye contact.

/Uh-oh/. House fully expected to get the “don’t you dare” glare. To his surprise, however, Wilson gazed at him with…curiosity? Or at least something that wasn’t bitchiness. He wasn’t sure what to do with that. If he’d gotten the “don’t you dare” glare, his response would be clear. He’d dare.

:::::☆ ☆:::::

A moment later, Wilson stood up and began to stroll toward him. “You know what I don’t get, House?” He stopped in front of the desk and crossed his arms. “You push me to get out there and meet someone, and then you mock the idea that a woman would actually want me. I’m getting a lot of mixed messages.”

House had no immediate response, which was an unusual feeling. A quip was obviously in order, but looking at Wilson's face—clear and open, with none of the usual sarcasm or exasperation—he felt weirdly tongue-tied.

:::::☆ ☆:::::

“You have got to be kidding me,” he said angrily. “You’ve been calling me out for not making a move—for being a-a myotonic /goat/. Twice, you have practically dared me to…” He flapped a hand toward the kitchen, in lieu of the words “kiss you,” presumably.

“And now,” Wilson continued, “you want me to tell you what to say?”

[Sequel to: ‘That Mythical Thing’]
HouseM.D.  House/Wilson  author:sassyjumper  S8  romance  light-angst  humour  sequel  pining  mutual-pining  pining!House  observation  flirting  misunderstandings  one-shot  site:AO3  word-count:1-5k     
december 2017 by SHSL_Fangirl
Things That Go Bump
Wilson has nightmares. House gets a headache. Everyone tries to diagnose just what's going on between them.

This story is set in Season 2, before House got shot, before the first ducklings left us, before Amber, before House/Cuddy . . . those halcyon days where House and Wilson were just . . . House and Wilson. Wilson is sleeping on House's sofa, after moving out from cancer patient, Grace.

"Wilson just shook his head and limped back into the kitchen. He unloaded a sack of fresh produce. Good produce. Endives and garlic and tomatoes and asparagus. He moved on to the next sack. Beef. Good beef. Brisket and rump roast and ribeyes . . . he was halfway through the third sack of spices and imported cheeses, whistling and daydreaming about braised salmon with fresh asparagus when it hit him. He was being seduced. Through groceries. By groceries. By House through groceries. And he was falling for it. Hard. Lox, stock pot, and basil."
HouseM.D.  House/Wilson  author:peg22  S1/2/3  S2  romance  hurt/comfort  emotional-hurt/comfort  angst-with-a-happy-ending  humour  alternating-POV  hurt!Wilson  hurt!House  nightmares  lacerations  blood  dizziness  sleep-deprivation  fatigue  insomnia  burns  cuts  House’s-leg-pain  living-together  realisation-of-feelings  pining  mutual-pining  pining!House  pining!Wilson  seduction  sexual-content  neck-play  dry-humping  frottage  literally-sleeping-together  avoidance  jealousy  possessiveness  confrontations  accidents  observation  elevators  elevator-confrontations  counselling  fic  site:AO3  word-count:10-20k   
december 2017 by SHSL_Fangirl
By My Side
Wilson and House have been falling in love for 12 years. House insists he's okay with what they have and won't ask for more, but Wilson begins to understand the toll all his wives have had on House. Miscommunication ensues!
HouseM.D.  House/Wilson  author:OswinWatson  S1/2/3  S2  romance  angst-with-a-happy-ending  emotional-hurt/comfort  alternating-POV  minor-House/Stacy  established-relationship  casual-relationships  living-together  pining  pining!Wilson  mutual-pining  jealousy  hurt!Wilson  avoidance  confrontations  misunderstandings  hugs  love-confessions  one-shot  site:AO3  word-count:1-5k 
december 2017 by SHSL_Fangirl
A Differential Diagnosis for Green Silk
When he first notices the green tie, he treats it as a joke.
"Not a bad theory," James says. "The sexual harassment suit would certainly have been more interesting than my paperwork. But House... Hasn't it occurred to you that I might be wearing this tie for your benefit?"

Not the response he was expecting, and his sarcastic reply is automatic, not thought through in the least.

"That would have been my next suggestion, but you know me, too modest to put myself forward."

Wilson doesn't even dignify that with a roll of his eyes.

"I seem to remember you were the one who did a complete psychoanalysis of my dating habits just to have an excuse to tell me I looked good in it. I think it's safe to assume that wearing it will get your attention."

Sometimes he forgets that Wilson can see right through him. That, for all his doe-eyed sentimentality, his mind is sharper than a scalpel and every bit as precise. It's a dangerous thing to lose sight of.
HouseM.D.  House/Wilson  author:Isagel  S1/2/3  S1  romance  angst-with-a-happy-ending  minor-Wilson/Julie  pining  pining!House  mutual-pining  jealousy  confrontations  denial  realisation-of-feelings  neckties  seduction  perceptive!Wilson  deduction  sexual-content  semi-public-sex  dry-humping  frottage  infidelity  one-shot  site:AO3  word-count:1-5k  !   
december 2017 by SHSL_Fangirl
Untitled House/Wilson Fic
Wilson and House, working late at the hospital.
"You /are/ jealous," House announces with a combination of astonishment and victory. "You li-ike Cam-eron," he sings, like a five-year-old.

"No, actually, I don't!" Wilson says it louder than he'd intended. No one else in the place pays any attention, but House is looking at him with startling intensity. Wilson can almost hear the wheels whirring in his mind, putting it together.

"You don't like Cameron," House says, and it's a statement of fact. "You're jealous, though." Wilson is getting unaccountably nervous. House may be a pompous jackass but he is impossibly good at reading people, plucking truths out of masses of emotional ramblings with flawless precision.

House's eyes widen, and he stares at Wilson. Wilson arrives at the same conclusion as House, but about a second later.

Yes, he's jealous.

He's jealous of Cameron.
HouseM.D.  House/Wilson  author:Nuala  S1/2/3  S2  romance  humour  light-angst  angst-with-a-happy-ending  minor-Wilson/Julie  pining  pining!Wilson  mutual-pining  flirting  avoidance  confrontations  jealousy  realisation-of-feelings  observation  deduction  perceptive!House  one-shot  site:House-Fan-Fiction-Archive  word-count:1-5k     
december 2017 by SHSL_Fangirl
Distorted Mirror
Loving someone is one thing. Telling them—especially when they hate you—is something else. Chase copes with his feelings for House and, in his own way, shows them.
HouseM.D.  House/Chase  author:kuhori_rei  S1/2/3  S1  post-Vogler-arc  romance  angst-with-a-happy-ending  emotional-hurt/comfort  alternating-POV  punishment  observation  denial  resignation  letters  letter-writing  resignation-letters  love-confessions  pining  pining!Chase  mutual-pining  hurt!Chase  drowsiness  confrontations  reconciliation  one-shot  site:LJ  word-count:1-5k     
november 2017 by SHSL_Fangirl
Love Letters
It's Valentine's Day, and Wilson's getting love letters... but who are they from? Meanwhile, House is up to something...
HouseM.D.  House/Wilson  author:an-angel-in-hell  S1/2/3  S3  romance  humour  light-angst  alternating-POV  Valentine’s-Day  love-letters  secret-admirers  pining  pining!House  mutual-pining  love-confessions  deduction  confrontations  one-shot  site:FFN  word-count:1-5k     
november 2017 by SHSL_Fangirl

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