#This one is much less angsty than the first chapter (and that's saying something) but in planning...this has grown a proto plot

[world-of-aus]

The Arrangement - Chapter 3

Pairing: Mobboss!Bucky x Reader

Chapter Warnings: Angsty Dialogue. Longing????

Author's Note: Chapter 3 is finally here, I apologize for the delay, but I wanted to make this as good as I could for all of you. Also the vows used are my personal favorite and I think they fit the story well. I hope you enjoy, thank you, and happy readings!

You’re looking over the latest shipment, fingers dancing down the list of numbers, eyes scanning over the page from left to right. 

“You know, I heard most brides should be relaxing before their big day, having a night out on the town with their friends. Why am I not surprised you’re still here sweetheart?"

Your fingers still, eyes flitting up to see you father at the open door of your office, you offer a warm smile, “m'about done, just doing a final check before the weekend, wanted to make sure our numbers were right come Monday when we merge with the Barnes, didn't want a single hair out of place. And I'll have you know that Becca and I had a girls night yesterday by the way, we plan on catching a late dinner tonight as well so consider that my night out on the town.” 

Your father chuckles stepping into your space, your eyes flit back to the sheet as he draws closer, his presence looming at your side as he watches you. He waits till you’ve skimmed the last of the page, till you’re relaxed back against the office chair eyes on him before he speaks. 

“How are you doing my girl,” he murmurs reaching out to stroke your head, “I’ve been worried about you since your mom called you home and delivered the news.” 

“I don’t know how to feel dad,” you answer honestly, “should I feel happy, sad, angry, regret?” 

“Regret?” he questions. 

“This isn’t the way this was supposed to go,” you say. “I planned a wedding for tomorrow that isn’t mine, everything up to the last detail is hers, it's not mine and now I’m expected to step up – to step in for my family. Do you know what that’s going to feel like? To look like? Stepping in to a wedding that screams ‘This isn’t yours’, a wedding that you didn't invision." What if she comes back dad, what if she comes to her senses and decides she wants him back? What then? Are you going to discard up the contract like you did that night? Discard my feelings as if they meant less than hers?” 

Your father looks stricken by your words, “but we thought it’s what you wanted sweetheart, you didn’t fight us on it, you willingly let him sign so we assumed it's what you wanted too."

You scoff with a shake of your head, maybe you’d settle on feeling anger. “Of course I made it seem like it's something I wanted. Forgive me for not wanting to put myself through a one-sided marriage. He fell for her dad the first night he laid eyes on her and he was locked in, he loves her, he chose her. So of course I let him go despite my breaking heart. I refused to be the cause of someone’s unhappiness, to be the cause of my own unhappiness because I deserve someone who will love me back, who would choose me and he wasn’t going to chose me.” 

‘I can’t do this to her.’ 

But he could do it to you. 

“Sweetheart I’m -” 

You bring a hand up, “Please don’t dad, I’ve agreed to this because I know what it meant to our family, and I’ll play my role just as you asked but please don't ask more of me, there's only so much that I can give, and I think I've given enough."

Your fathers struck by your words, and he can only watch as you stand from the seat gathering your things. It’s only once you’ve reached the door of the office you turn to regard him, “I’ll see you tomorrow dad.” He wants to call you back,  to get on his knees and beg for your forgiveness because how could he have not seen it. Seen what that night did to you, he should have done more for you, fought it, but all he could think of that night was the merger, the safety it would bring both families. He thought of everyone’s happiness but your own that night. They all did. 

“You know my offer still stands to be your getaway driver for tomorrow right?” 

Despite the tears blurring your eyes you still manage to snort out your laughter, “Your brother would have us tracked down in minutes Bec’s there’s no where you could go that he wouldn’t find you, he has plenty of people that owe him favors just ready to cash in. Also don't get me started on the hell my father would reign, I don't take his position till after I marry."

“It was a worth a try,” she grumbles stabbing a noodle, “I just hate to see you hurting y/n, this isn’t how the night before your big day should be going, you should be happy – those tears shouldn’t be sad ones.” 

You smile sadly at the noodles in the takeout box before looking over the coffee table at your best friend, “but this isn’t my big day Bec's, I'm doing this for our families." Rebecca abandons her noodles all but crawling over the wooden coffee table to get to you, her arms crushing you in a welcomed embrace. “Tomorrow is for you y/n, I know none of it feels like it is, but its for you, I promise it is.” 

Your fingers curl around your friend as more tears slip from your eyes, god how you wish that were the truth. You would give yourself tonight to cry, to be hurt, to feel angry, but tomorrow, tomorrow it would all be different - you'd learn to mask it. You would no longer cry, no longer allow this pain to consume you, you were going to fight for your happiness - real happiness, and ensure you got every bit of it you deserved. 

Bucky remembered the nights the two of you would be out in the backyard of the Barnes residence, a soft blanket laid out beneath the two of you, the stars coating the night sky as you two drew up the image of the ‘perfect wedding’ a wedding between the two of you that was written in the stars. Looking around the chapel now he doesn’t see a single speck of you in the details. Though why would he, this wedding wasn’t yours despite all the effort you had gone to make sure it was perfect and it really wasn’t his – was it?  

He still recalls the day your sister eagerly announced their engagement to both families, he had imagined this being one of the most exciting moments in his life but where was that sought after feeling? He had found no excitement when she mentioned that you and her would be going dress shopping for the first time since the engagement dropped, no eagerness in wondering what she would look like in her chosen all white dress. If anything he felt like he had been outsider to most of it, the cake testing, the linen choosing, the food tasting, and at the time he couldn't quite understand why. Where had that rush he felt with you in his backyard gone? This was his wedding, he should feel happy, so why didn't he, what was missing?

Bucky thought he might be devastated when his mother rang him to tell him about your sister not being able to go through with the wedding. He thought he might have been crushed when he received her text: Please forgive me. I love you, but I can't do this. He thought he might feel hurt when his number was blocked shortly after, but he felt nothing.

Now though as he stands at the head of the chapel, Steve and Sam at his side a feeling Bucky can’t place his finger on crushes his chest as he looks over the families lining the pews of the church. There are quiet whispers filtering through the air, and Bucky thinks that's what may be causing the feeling. Or maybe it was the fact that you still hadn’t entered through the closed doors of the chapel.  

Had you unlike your sister gotten actual cold feet, or maybe you finally decide to do something for you, something that wasn't at the benefit of your family.

Steve leans in from where he’s stood at his side, “would you like me to go check on them pal?” Bucky’s lip's part on an answer but the doors to the chapel are pushing in, his sister albeit a little disheveled makes her way down the aisle, quiet apologies on her lips as she takes her spot on your side.

He looks at her in question, "we hit a bump in the road," she mouths, "she's coming."

Bucky wants to question her further, but then the piano is being queued, the doors swinging open and just there at the entrance you stand with your father, your arms entwined together.

He forgets how to breathe.

Bucky watches your father guide the two of you down the aisle, both family's stood on their feet. The feeling that weighed him down earlier is now replaced with something new as your father closes the distance. You're dressed in a silk white dress, a delicate veil placed in your hair, a simple piece yet on you it looked incredibly stunning, so this was the bump in the road.

He meets you and your father, your hand being placed in his, "take care of my girl son." Bucky looks at your father, his hand squeezing yours, "I give you my word sir." your father nods placing a kiss to your cheek before taking his spot by your mother.

It's just you and Bucky for a moment as he leads you up to the officiant, "I'm sorry for being late," you whisper, "I -" He turns to you then as you stop before the officiant, his other hand taking yours, "there's nothing to be sorry for I understand, you're here now, you look beautiful sweetheart."

He's left you speechless, but there's no room for words as the officiant begins the ceremony.

Bucky can't take his eyes off you, not even as he repeats the vows he's supposed to, his eyes only ever part from yours when he goes to present you with the ring Steve passes him, and even then they're on yours shortly after as he makes his promise to you. He cant quite describe the feeling that passes over him when you take the ring from Becca eyes locked on his as you make your vows to him sealing it with the ring over his finger.

Why did he ever let you go?

"James Barnes and Y/F/N Y/L/N, having proclaimed your love and commitment to one another in the eyes of these loved ones, and with the power vested in me by the Universal Life Church and the state of New York, I am so happy to pronounce you husband and wife." The officiant turns his attention to Bucky then, "You may kiss your bride."

You and Bucky had only ever kissed one other time, and it was a moment like this one that he knew he would never forget.

He's on his side looking down at you, taking in the beauty of your features as your eyes dance across the starry sky. "I'd want to write my own vow's," he proclaims, "it would feel more personal, more us."

He loves when your eyes find his, there's a brightness in your eyes at his proclamation, "I'd love that too B, care to share with me a bit of what you'd say?"

He know's you're teasing but in that moment he doesn't care, he thinks he may be able to tell you tonight, to show you just how much he cares, how much he loves you. "I vow to fiercely love you in all your forms now and forever," he breathes grinning at the soft surprise that skirts over your features. "I promise to never forget that this is a once-in-a-lifetime love. And to always know in the deepest part of my soul that no matter what challenges might carry us apart, we will always find our way back to each other."

He thinks you might have been the first to move, your hand finding the back of his head, the other the side of his face as you caressed his cheek, he knows there's love in your eyes as you pull him a little closer, the whispered words, 'you may now kiss the bride' ghosting over his lips just before they met yours.

He's certain he's the one that's moved first this time, one hand finding your waist, the other your cheek as he pulls you closer. He can see the fear, the worry there in your eyes, and he caresses your skin in hopes of easing that worry as he closes the distance between the two of you.

And just before his lips slot over yours Bucky vows then to mend the promises he had broken.

The Arrangement Taglist:

If you'd like to be added or removed please let me know, Many Thanks <3

@learisa @greatenthusiasttidalwave @barnesxstan @calwitch @h0nestly-though @wintrsoldrluvr @esposadomd @roofwitty779 @pattiemac1 @sebastians-love @scott-loki-barnes @mrsnikstan @metanoiablxxm @lostyx @missvelvetsstuff @casa-boiardi @shoutingcardinal @tiedyedghoulette @littleeuphoriaelf @polireader @armystay89 @cjand10 @railmesebstan @agardenflower25 @brckenmemories @mcira @loki-laufeyson68 @edelweissbarnes @unaxv @ghalouha @wasalreadyhere @broadwaybabe18 @mavs101 @stormy-stardust @shadowrose13-blog1 @laha1na

[heartpascal]

something is rotten

▹ — joel miller x niece!reader

▹ — summary: part two of to an empty house — arriving in jackson brings painful feelings, and even worse conversations.

▹ — a/n: UGH!! guys im not all that happy with this one!! ive changed it a couple times too D: but i have left yall hanging long enough!! lemme know if you want anymore about these guys :’) && ty guys sm for all the support ILY!!

▹ — warnings: slight spoilers for episode 6 ‘kin’, swearing, ANGST!!!, a bit of comfort, father figure joel, reader has daddy issues, and abandonment issues, and is generally not struggling in life PLS

▹ — tags: @canpillowscry @randomstory56 @angsty-twihardxx @frogtits1 @exiledangel @sleepdeprived-barelyalive @vee-vee-writes @rhyanna6012 @snixx2088 @mona-aiko @mymommmy (those of you tagged in italics asked for part 2 in the comments of the first part! drop me a message if you want your tag removed!!)

masterlist

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Life in the apocalypse had been non-stop since you had left that hydroelectric power plant, left behind Tommy, and for a while, all thoughts of him. There hadn’t been time to worry about that sort of thing, between almost losing Joel, and then almost losing Ellie, and then finally reaching the hospital that had been your end goal.

In some ways, you were glad. It kept your mind racing, the feeling of constantly being on edge allowing your brain to stay away from silly things, such as your father.

But now, with that whole chapter finally being over, Joel and Ellie were ready to settle down, to live in a home, rather than travelling miles upon miles, never feeling safe. The three of you had been through a lot, and since the… incident with Ellie, her joke book had remained closed.

You knew that Joel had noticed the change in her, just the same as you had. What she had thought to be her purpose, the justification for everybody who had been lost on your journey, their sacrifice, had been for nothing. It was tearing her apart, and it hurt you to watch it happen.

There was no question about your next destination, though you tried to ignore the reality of it for as long as you possibly could, you were fully aware that Jackson was what Ellie needed. Hell, you’d even go as far as to say it was what Joel needed, too. But deep down, you knew that going there was going to tear you to pieces, despite the way you liked to put on a strong front, following in Joel’s footsteps even in that sense.

You didn’t share your concerns, content to continue the journey in silence, pretending not to notice the way Joel and Ellie looked at you the closer you got to the town.

“Hey, you okay?” Ellie murmured to you, the final stop of your journey feeling like something similar to that of impending doom. She nudged your arm with her elbow, smiling in a way that didn’t quite reach her eyes like it used to.

“Mighty fine.” You responded, her dim smile reflected in your own, and you let it fall the moment she nodded at you, despite clearly being unconvinced by your words.

You fell into step beside her and Joel, and felt his hand grasp on to your shoulder as you caught glimpse of Jackson in the not far enough distance. He squeezed your shoulder the slightest bit, and gave you the biggest reassuring smile he could muster, though it didn’t soothe your worries like it used to.

Maybe it was everything the three of you had been through over your journey, or maybe it was the impending arrival at Jackson, but you were starting to notice the world had become much dimmer than you remembered it to be. Joel’s grip less reassuring, Ellie’s smile less genuine, that faint hope in your gut long gone. With a frown, the thought came to you that this was what it meant to grow up.

The lines on Ellie’s face said the same thing, the sigh that had left her chest, made up of pure exhaustion, just told you that her naive nature had vanished. Jokes no longer received the same laughter, and the world no longer held beauty. Growing up felt like hopelessness settling, nuzzling its way in and making itself at home in that space around your heart. The grip it had made it feel like perhaps, it wouldn’t be all too bad if that heartbeat slowed, but you pushed that thought aside for another time.

For now, you’d have to focus on the problem at hand; arriving in Jackson.

It was warmer now than it had been when you’d left the power plant, and it showed in the way that the green lands had brightened, the sun settling and warming the back of your neck. The heat meant less layers, and the three of you had removed your jackets long before arriving in the town.

The lookouts had spotted you all before you’d been anywhere near the gate, so it was no surprise that Tommy was there to greet the three of you when the gates were finally pulled open, allowing you a peek into the home he valued so much.

Walking in, you had already begun your self-appointed mission of ignoring every word Tommy Miller said, but felt yourself almost blown away by the sights around you. For a moment, just a split second, it was nice.

That thought went out the window a second later, catching a glimpse of your so-called father, and you couldn’t help but recall the way you’d sat for endless nights, waiting for that very man, and imagined yourself living a life with him in a town just like this one.

You felt sick.

That little kid deserved better, you decided. You were worthy of living this kind of life, of getting to sleep in a warm house, of not having to worry about if Joel and Tess would get enough ration cards to feed the three of you, of getting horse riding lessons! The facts of the situation stared you in the face, getting clearer the longer you looked around. Your own father denied you of this life.

With building anger, the feeling white-hot, burning, you turned to Joel where he was speaking with his brother. “Where are we staying?”

Tommy looked between you and Joel, swallowing when Joel just raised a brow at him, and spoke, “Uh, little place just a couple blocks over. 38, I think. Rancher Street, I’ll take you guys over—”

“I’ll make my own way.” You snapped, before he could even finish his sentence. If you had to look at him for even a second longer, you were sure that the overflowing anger and resentment would explode, and you weren’t convinced anyone would be able to pick up the pieces that would be left behind.

You stormed down the street before he could say another word to you, turning down the first alley you saw and standing still in the street on the other side, letting out a harsh breath.

You couldn’t be sure how long you’d stood there for, trying to turn down the simmering emotions inside of you, but it was clearly long enough for somebody to notice. “You good there?” A young girl asked, and you turned to her, brows furrowed.

“‘M fine.” You responded gruffly, and even you could hear the way your speech reflected Joel’s own. The thought calmed you, almost, reminding you of who your real dad was.

She stepped closer, clearly not taking a hint, “You sure? New in town? You look lost.”

“Yes, yes, and I’m not lost.” You said to her, though you didn’t exactly know where you were. She just raised her eyebrows at you, and you huffed, “Lookin’ for a Rancher Street.”

The girl nodded, something between a smirk and a smile on her face, and pointed forward, “First left twice, then a right. Should get you there just fine.”

“Thanks.” You said, immediately heading off in the direction she’d guided you in. You kept your head down, brows furrowed, and tried to keep your attention away from the world around you. It was clear that it’d just make you more angry.

You counted along with the house numbers as you passed by, Rancher Street wasn’t that densely populated, if the look of the houses were anything to go by. There was quite a few that looked run down, number 38 included, once you arrived. You went inside, the door already unlocked, and sneezed when you inhaled all the dust that clouded the air. This place must’ve been barely touched throughout the last twenty years.

Grabbing a book left on the coffee table, you pulled it open, and sat on the edge of an old sofa, sighed through your nose when even more dust floated up from it.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

“You’ll go, because it’s the polite thing to do.” Joel told you firmly, sighing heavily as he looked over at you with his arms crossed.

“You think I give a shit about being polite?” You asked him, mirroring his stance by crossing your own arms. He rolled his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose as he clearly brainstormed a way to get around your stubbornness.

“Just this one time,” He told you, saying your name pleadingly, “Then you’ll never have to go ‘round there again.”

That peaked your interest, and you uncrossed your arms, “Really? You promise?”

“Swear.” Joel replied, and sighed something near to relief, finally calling Ellie’s name. The stairs creaked, and she appeared less than a second later.

“You coming?” She asked, thought she had obviously been sat on the stairs, listening to yours and Joel’s… conversation, the whole time.

“Yeah,” You sighed unhappily, “I’m coming.”

The three of you made your way across town, with Joel checking a scrap piece of paper that you could only assume held directions. Lights had flickered on by now, the darkness of the evening being offset by the yellow lamps that poured light over the street. It was weird, you thought, being able to see so clearly in the darkness.

Joel knocked at the wooden door when you arrived, looking back at you where you stood, just off the porch with Ellie, like he thought you might run away if he didn’t keep his eyes on you.

Though the thought had occurred to you, you wouldn’t do it, not if it meant that Joel’s promise would be vacant. Just this once, he had sworn.

The front door opened as Ellie knocked your arm with her elbow, giving you a slight reassuring smile. You appreciated the effort, but the reassurance fell flat. There was something about this situation that you just couldn’t put into words, but it hurt. Her arm wrapped through your own as Joel followed Tommy inside, and she led you in after them, closing the door behind you.

Immediately, you were tense. Your heart felt as if it was beating in your throat, like it was going to stop if you took another step. You tried not to look around, keeping your eyes on your battered old shoes as you let Ellie continue leading you through the house.

Her abrupt stop had you stumbling into her, and lifting your head with furrowed brows. You glanced to where she was looking, seeing the names Kevin and Sarah written in a scrawl on a chalkboard in what you guessed would be a living room. You frowned, and gripped Ellie’s arm tighter, breaking her from her stare at the board.

You pretended not to notice the homely feel to the house, the warmth of it making your palms sweat. If you allowed your mind to wonder too far, you’d be reminded of how you had dreamed of living a life like this as a kid, dreamed of a house just like this one, shared with your father. You would be reminded of how he chose to have this, chose to have it without you.

Good job you keep your mind on a tight leash, you supposed, gritting your teeth and blinking away the angry tears that wanted to rise and fall from your eyes.

You breathed in deeply through your nose, looking up as Ellie began to loosen her grip on your arm, having arrived at the dining room. The concept had always been strange to you, having lived in a shitty apartment for basically all your life, and having a whole room just for eating seemed like a waste of valuable space.

Ellie took a seat, and you quickly followed in her example as Joel stood talking to Tommy by the doorway, engaged in conversation like they were as close as they had been two decades ago.

“You got this.” Ellie said, her hand on squeezing your arm as she looked towards where you were wringing your fingers together, your stomach feeling as though you’d left it back by the porch. You nodded at her, swallowing and smiling tightly.

You stayed quiet as Tommy finished setting the table, before he was moving back and forth between the dining room and kitchen, bringing various plates and a few sauces with each trip. Finally, he sat down at the head of the table beside Ellie, and you kept your gaze away from him.

“Sorry I couldn’t be there to greet you guys when you got in,” Maria called, finally approaching from the kitchen, and you were keeping your gaze on your hands until Ellie frantically began tapping your, her expression saying something you’d couldn’t quite understand, something close to pity in her eyes. “Kinda hard to get around so quick, these days.” Maria laughed, placed a big plate down on the table before standing back up, her hands on her back and—

If you had eaten any food, you were sure you would’ve thrown it all back up.

There, standing in front of you, was your father’s wife — pregnant.

It felt like a million different feelings were running through your head, faster than you could catch up, all your thoughts were racing, clashing together and leaving only one that was literate: What the fuck?

Maria sat down beside Joel, at Tommy’s side, and you could see in Joel’s eyes that he hadn’t expected this, could see the pity building in his eyes just as you’d seen in Ellie’s, and it was all far too much.

“I can’t do this.” You announced, slamming your hands on the table and feeling some satisfaction in the way the cutlery clattered together. You pushed your chair back, standing up, and saw your father open his mouth to speak.

He said your name, and you snapped.

“Don’t talk to me! What the fuck is wrong with you?” You cried out, staring daggers at the man who was supposed to be your dad. The angry tears that you had managed to push away earlier came rushing back, one already falling down your cheek. You wiped it away angrily.

“Kid, just listen—”

You seethed, “Kid? Do I look like a fucking kid to you? You missed out on that, Tommy. You have no idea—” Your voice broke for a moment, as you thought of all the things that had happened to you since your father had been around. “I don’t have to listen to you. You’re not my dad, remember? You left your daughter, years ago. You have no idea what we’ve been through.”

Ellie was stood beside you, her hand on your shoulder, though when she had got there, you had no idea. The edges of your vision were red, and you could feel the way your throat was tightening.

“I’m sorry,” He started, your name leaving his lips once again, and Ellie held firmly against you as you leant towards him, your blood warming in your veins as your heartbeat echoed in your ears.

“I don’t think sorry cuts it.” You laughed, humourlessly. “I don’t think anything does, actually. I will never forgive you. You hear me? You listening? Never.”

You turned away, Ellie’s hand falling away, and you even avoided Joel as he stood up and tried to reach out for you. You couldn’t face them, not like this, not when it felt like your father had taken a chisel to your heart, and left you with only splintered ribs. You were choking on the emptiness of it, the reality of your life and what it meant to the man who had helped create it.

You were more certain now than ever that he had never cared for you, that he had left because of you, not just despite you.

It was horrible, and it was something you had always suspected. A part of you wished that he had died alongside the Fireflies, because at least then he wouldn’t have had a choice in staying away, right? But no, he was alive and well, thriving in the home he’d made without you, while you worried back at the QZ that barely provided you with enough food to get by.

You were storming away, and had reached the house you'd been allocated before you even really noticed that you had left. The blood in your veins had reached a boil by now, and you could feel the steaming in your lungs, in the way it suffocated you and made every breath burn against your throat.

The backpack in your hands was still filled with everything you owned, seeing as you hadn’t bothered to unpack into somebody else’s bedroom, though it had been theirs a lifetime ago. It didn’t help the deepening rage within you, the despair that was tilting your entire world on its axis. Everything in your life was in this bag, probably weighing less than the plate of food Maria had brought out.

Meanwhile, your father had a whole house full of shit that belonged to him. You scoffed, feeling that burning sensation crawling up your chest, so close to hatred, but something far more raw, more painful.

Your feet took you back out to Rancher Street, legs moving before your mind was fully caught up. You met the rest of the Miller’s halfway through your trek, with them on their way to Joel’s new house, whilst you were trying to make your way to the gate, prepared to leave, rather than get left behind.

Joel called your name, his expression displaying the panic that was crushing his chest. He had been a builder, before. He had fixed things — it was what he did, what he liked to do. But this was something he didn’t know how to fix, something that may have just been broken beyond repair… he wasn’t sure what to do with that.

“Joel, don’t,” You told him, voice trembling as you spoke, stopping in front of the man who had looked after you for your whole life. “Please don’t. Nothin’ that anyone says could make me not hate him. Not even you.”

Joel swallowed, glancing back to his brother behind him, where he stood with his wife, before glancing to Ellie at his own side.

“I—I didn’t mean for this,” Tommy said, arms up by his head as if he was surrendering, but you knew he was just trying to make himself feel better. “I swear!”

“I don’t care,” You cried, feeling your frustration build that none of these people had the ability to understand you, to understand how it felt for your own father to look at you and leave you behind. They couldn’t get how crushing this was, that he was starting over. “Go ahead, start over with your wife. First time ‘round didn’t work, but second time, surely!”

He flinched at your words, as if they had hurt him, but your expression hardened. He had no idea what true hurt was — how could he?

“I know I wasn’t the greatest dad—”

“You have never been my dad. Joel is my dad. He’s looked after me my whole life while you were out lookin’ for something, who knows what, because I don’t believe you ever found it.” You spat at him, feeling Ellie approach your side, hold on to your wrist as your hands clenched into fists.

Joel’s face fell, the reality of your feelings towards your father were crushing, but he could see why you’d feel that way. He’d agree with you, too, if anybody deserved the title of your dad, it’d be himself, not his brother. He remembered a few times when you’d used the name for him, though you had been sick or exhausted down to your very bones both times, and he had figured that in your muddled mind, you’d gotten him confused with Tommy. That was the reason he had never corrected it, not wanting to squash whatever little amount of hope and love you had for his brother. He’d had no idea that the truth was that you saw him, not his brother, and your mind had made that connection.

He felt like he could cry when you turned to him, that glassy look in your eyes, and he saw the pieces of you that his own brother had broken. “I want to leave.” You told him, lip trembling as you said the words.

Joel didn’t know what to reply with — the two of you had nowhere to go, and Ellie didn’t, either. This place was your best option, your only option, really. He shook his head, mouth slightly agape as he tried to think of something to say, something that could convince you.

Ellie said your name, and you drew your gaze to her, where she looked guilty, far guiltier than you had ever seen her. “I want to stay.” She told you, her eyes darting away from you as if she was confessing some awful sin to you.

“I know,” You said, letting her hand slip from your wrist to your own hand, and squeeze tightly. “But I…”

Your gaze moved to Tommy and Maria, and your expression hardened, features turning to stone when you looked at the two of them. “I’ll stay. For now. And I’m still a Miller, but— but if anybody asks, I’m Joel’s daughter.”

Joel nodded, smiling thinly at you, tears welled up in his own eyes, and you nodded back to him.

“O—Okay.” Tommy said, swallowing, but you shushed him before he could continue.

“As for you, I don’t wanna see you. Let’s keep it the way you decided we should be.“ Your voice trembled, but you remained firm on your words. “I don’t wanna see your face, or hear your voice. I don’t want to know you. Joel can do what he likes, but you stay far away from me, you got it? The only kid you have is that one.” You finished, gesturing toward where Maria held a hand over her stomach.

Tommy looked as if he was going to disagree, but people had begun peeking through the windows of the houses on either side of the street, and when Joel stepped beside you, arm immediately going around your shoulders, he knew he had no choice.

“Hope you’re a better father to that kid than you were to me.” You hissed at him, seeing the way his face crumpled and finding satisfaction in it.

The small part of you, the darkest part, hoped every one of your words hurt him. Hoped that he lived the rest of his life knowing that he fucked up, that he ruined you, and that when you built yourself back up, he’d never get the chance to know you.

Joel took the backpack from your shoulder, pulling it over his own, and turned you away from the father you had disowned. The three of you walked away, not looking back to see the way Maria had to herd him away as he stared at you, something close to grief in his eyes.

When you arrived back at 38 Rancher Street, Ellie held your hand tightly while Joel opened the front door, dropping your backpack by the stairs as he moved towards the dust filled living room. The two of you followed him, and he turned around to see you squeezing Ellie’s hand, your lips trembling and your face crumpled as you looked up at him.

“Did I make a mistake? Did I ruin everything?” You asked him, trying so hard to keep yourself together, to tape all the little pieces of yourself into something that resembled okay, but it wasn't working.

“God, no, kid.” Joel said, and he was in front of you and Ellie before you could get another word in, pulling the two of you into his arms and breathing out a tired exhale. “I’m proud of you, proud of you both.” He told you, and your whole facade collapsed beneath you, leaving you sobbing into his arms, wondering where everything had gone wrong, wondering what that little kid would’ve said if she had heard your words tonight.

“We’re gonna be alright.” Joel told the two of you, feeling Ellie squeeze her arms tighter around him, until she let go, pointing upwards to let him know where she was heading. He nodded at her, an understanding expression on his face, and tightened both his arms around you.

“You swear?” You checked, unable to help yourself, and let yourself breathe a shaky sigh into his neck when he responded.

“Swear.”

[writing-in-the-impala]

Secret Smokes

Pairing: Teacher! Remus Lupin x Reader

Series Summary: When the reader bumps into the new DADA professor on the bridge in Hogwarts she begins to build a friendship with him all thanks to their shared feeling of not belonging and love for muggle cigarettes. Their friendship blooms while they both fight internal battles deciding what is wrong and what is right leading to a lot of fluff, angst, flirting and a rollercoaster of emotions.

Warnings: Swearing, Drinking, teacher-student relationship (but like it’s all legal chill), SLOWburn we’re in for a long ride

Word Count: Just over 1k

A/N:

This story takes place in a AU where Harry's parents are still alive so Remus Lupin still has all his friends and there is no war however that doesn't make him any less angsty. Everything else is pretty much the same as the canon universe! Enjoy!

MASTERLIST  | SERIES MASTER LIST | Part 1, Next Chapter

The wizarding world and the muggle world have always felt like two completely different worlds, maybe that's why Witches and Wizards who are muggle-born become outcasts. It's hard adjusting to a school but adjusting to a whole world at 11 is even harder. Even in your last year of Hogwarts you still didn't feel like you belonged, each summer going back to the muggle life that you have always known, working a summer job at a coffee shop and hanging out with muggles rather than wizards. You had friends in Hogwarts of course, some closer than others and even though it helped you feel more at home you knew that after Hogwarts you'd end up working a muggle job.

Maybe that's why entering your last year at Hogwarts didn't seem as intimidating because at the end of the day it didn't really matter what results you got in your N.E.W.T.S. Still in its own way you knew you'll miss the castle and the life you've lived in it. So your final train ride to Hogwarts felt a bit bittersweet. One thing didn't change, once again a new Defence against the dark arts teacher got introduced, this time one called Remus Lupin. He looked a lot kinder and nicer than the last one.

Your first week went by extremely quickly, quidditch practice hadn't started yet so you had more time to just hang out with your friends. All your lessons were easy so far as everyone was settling to being back. The new profesor was quickly becoming everyone's favourite due to his friendly nature, he seemed to befriend every student something no other profesor really did. You didn't really get to interact with him too much one-to-one during lessons as whenever he had free time the girls with a crush on him would jump onto the opportunity. You didn't really care about DADA as you wouldn't need it in the muggle world but you did understand why everyone was developing a crush, you had your own brewing for him.

It didn't take long for you to get home sick, homesick for the muggle world. Nothing really felt right to you, not even the food it just never tasted as good as what your mother would make, you missed your parents terribly it was a lot harder sending them owls than sending owls to wizard families, they didn't really grasp the concept. The twins could see that you were getting down again, they knew this happened every year after summer, and they've always tried to help lift your spirit. "Y/N we were thinking it was a good time to plan the first prank of the year what do you say?" Fred said. "Y/N is in her last year, she can't be participating in your silly games." Percy answered for you. "Who invited him?" George snapped back.

"Percy might be right I can't get in as much trouble as I did last year I don't want to get suspended, I'm on thin ice with old Minnie after the last prank we pulled before summer." You admitted, maybe you didn't care about your exam results but you didn't want to get suspended. The debate continued and you ended up agreeing to planning a prank that you may or may not help with. After dinner you decided to take a quick detour to the covered bridge, at the end of your fifth year you discovered it was empty in the evenings as it didn't lead to anywhere people would go at that time of night, it instantly became somewhere you would go for peace, and once you discovered smoking, it also got added to the list of secret smoking spots.

When you approached the middle of the bridge you saw a figure standing smoking a cigarette, you felt a bit gutted someone was using your spot but also excited at the idea of someone being so alike you. You approached them and they quickly put out the cigarette. "Don't worry man, I'm not a teacher I won't snitch." You claimed as you walked up to them before you could make out who it was.

"I know but I am." The figure replied, you were now close enough to make out that it was Professor Lupin. He was no longer leaning over the edge but standing straight with his hands in his pockets.

"I won't snitch if you won't?" You said pulling out your own packet of cigarettes. And his face turned to a gentle smile.

"I really shouldn't-" He protested. "Oh come on, you're new. This is normal." You preached. "Yeah Minerva and I do this all the time but don't tell her I told you." This got a laugh out of him.

"I may have believed you up until that point Y/N. But that's where you've lost me." He remembered your name and for some reason it made your heart skip for a second, he had so many students that he's met in one week and he still managed to memorise yours.

"Come on I'll give you a smoke if you don't tell anyone?" You reached out the pack to him "Camels?" He questioned while taking one. "You know them?" You took one out the packed for yourself before putting it away. "They're muggle smokes." He stated nonchalant, there wasn't any hate in those words which was rare around these halls. "I like them." You pulled out a lighter to light your cigarette while he snapped his fingers and it was instantly lit. "How did you do that? You instantly snapped back . "Do what?" He smiled while holding the cigarette in his mouth, he was attractive in the moon light. "Light it with a snap." You replicated his previous action. "It's a simple arson spell, just a small flame. I used wand less magic." He explained "If it's wand less why did you snap your fingers? Surely you could've just done it." You pressed. "Yes. You've got me there." He admitted. "So you were just trying to impress me?" Slipped out before you realised how those words could sound flirty, you barely knew the man. Truthfully if he wasn't your profesor and this was an interaction with a student you would be developing a stupid crush on them.

"You could say that." He said, with half a smile on his lips. "I'm the new profesor who you've just caught spending the evening by himself smoking, I don't want you to tell everyone I'm boring now I seem impressive."

"Or insecure." You shot back and he bit his lip and shook his head in disbelief at your words. He decided not to reply, instead went back to leaning over the bridge looking out into the darkness and smoking his cigarette and silence fell upon you both.

"I like the camel ones, just because the camel is cute." You broke the silence after a while, you felt bad for calling him insecure and wanted to kill the awkwardness. He laughed at your comment. "You know smokings bad for you? Even if the camel is cute." He said flicking the butt of his cigarette into the darkness. "I know." You quietly replied.

He checked his watch before standing up straight"Curfew has already started so don't stay out here too long as Snape is the one on duty today." He began to walk away. "Professor-" He turned around at your words. "This didn't happen right?" You questioned nervously. "What are camels?" He replied with a wink. "Have a good evening Y/N."

"You too Professor."

NEXT CHAPTER

[withleeknow]

wishful thinking. (05)

chapter five: say what you mean

summary: the instruction was plain and simple: no strings attached. but you should’ve known from the beginning that it could never apply to you and him.

pairing: minho x f!reader rating: 18+ (minors dni) genres/warnings: friends to lovers, friends with benefits au, college au; fluff, angst, smut; mentions of sex, kissing, we’re starting to dip our toes into angsty territory !!, less edited than i’d like but what’s new lol word count: 2.8k

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation / series masterpost / taglist

Get me a drink, I get drunk off one sip, just so I can adore you I want the entire street out of town just so I can be alone with you Now go when you’re ready My head’s getting heavy, pressed against your arm Just to adore you, I adore you

Adore - Dean Lewis

Whenever Minho asks if you two could hang out together at your place, it usually means that you will end up in your bed.

Tonight you suppose is no different.

Even though you often cap off the night having engaged in activities that could make the Victorian lady in Hyunjin faint, it’s not all that you do. Both you and Minho never let yourselves forget that you’re friends first and foremost. Sex is the added benefit that should never take anything away from your friendship. He is still one of the people you’re most comfortable with, one of the few people whose company you enjoy.

You’re sprawled out on the couch in your small living room when Minho returns from the kitchen with a plate of freshly peeled tangerines, the same ones that he brought over earlier. You push yourself to half-sit up so he could squeeze himself between you and the armrest, before you go back to laying your head on his lap as you two resume watching a bad movie that you put on.

“I hate this so much,” you comment, your eyes glued to the TV screen.

“You picked the movie,” Minho says. “It’s not that bad. The plot is kind of decent.”

“I’m not talking about that. Jeez, if they wanted to make a movie where the main character is a graphic designer, you’d think that they would at least consult someone who knows literally anything about visual art. Look at that horrendous typography job, the text isn’t even aligned with the edges and corners. This is hurting my soul.”

Your cushions (Minho’s thighs) shake lightly as he laughs at your dramatic outburst over something as trivial as a fictional character’s poor standards of digital art. But you really aren’t kidding; the way the woman on screen is butchering the text alignment is quite literally making that very particular part of your brain want to shut down for the next five to seven business days.

“They should’ve consulted you first, is that right?” Minho asks.

“They really should have. I could’ve done wonders for them,” you say matter-of-factly. “I almost majored in graphic design, y’know.”

You have a habit of biting your tongue around others because you know that people don’t really care about the same things you do. Whenever the opportunity arises for you to share tidbits about your interests, excitement would tumble out of you only to be quashed soon after when no one wants to listen to your silly little rambles. It’s disheartening, you’re used to it.

But you never feel that way around Minho. He always lets you babble on about anything and everything, even if he might not know what the hell you’re talking about. He indulges you. He never makes you feel neglected or ignored.

“Hmm, my little genius artist.” He taps your cheek once, and when you turn your head to glance at him, he tells you to open up before he slips a slice of tangerine past your lips. “You’re right. Even I can tell that it’s horrendous.”

You hum appreciatively when the sweetness of the juicy fruit floods your tastebuds. Minho’s hand trails down your arm to rest on your stomach, just below your ribs where he fiddles with the worn fabric of your sleep shirt. If he moves his hand up, he would be grazing your bare chest underneath your shirt. You didn’t bother with a bra because, well, comfort above all else, especially within the four walls of your own home. Besides, it’s nothing that Minho hasn’t seen anyway.

He keeps on feeding you tangerines in between your complaints about bad design standards until the movie ends and the plate is cleared. The only sound in the room is the soft music on the TV as the credits start to roll.

You turn to lie on your back, staring up at Minho. “That was deeply disturbing.”

“You chose it,” he reminds you. “You went in knowing what the premise was.”

“Yeah, I have no one to blame but me. I had too much faith in humanity.”

“And you call me weird.”

“You are weird,” you say. “But I like weird.”

Minho looks down at you and for a moment, he says nothing. His fingers trace something on your stomach. A heart or an odd circle, you don’t know; you’re always bad at deciphering those. His eyelids fall a bit, softening the usual sharpness of his gaze.

Then he’s pulling you by your shoulders, guiding you to sit up and before you know it, you’re situated on his lap with one of his hands on your waist, the other on the back of your neck. Minho tugs you closer, meeting your lips in a kiss in which you waste no time returning.

He’s sweet, like the tangerines that you were sharing all evening. It tends to start like this - sort of randomly, whenever it feels right. He squeezes your side in a comforting gesture as his tongue slips into your mouth. There are times where it’s more urgent, where one of you is needy and desperately seeks the escape and release that can only be found in the other’s embrace. Other times, it’s slower, more gentle, where you can really focus on making each other feel fully satiated.

This, right now - you would pinpoint somewhere in the middle. There’s no fiery clothes-ripping urge, nor a need to lay the other person bare and knead every single knot of stress from their system. Today, there’s just languid wanting; an unhurried inclination to be close.

Him and his tangerine flavored kiss, you and your resolve built on shaky foundation.

You start rolling your hips over his, tugging on his shirt because you want to feel his skin against yours. Minho stops you though; he puts both hands on your hips and pulls his lips away from yours. You blink, dazed, confused.

“I...” he starts, trying to even out his breathing as he finds the words. “I don’t want to have sex tonight.”

Embarrassment instantly washes over you. The rejection is a little humiliating; it’s the first time you’ve ever felt like this around him. Your cheeks catch fire from the mortification, and you’re very aware that you’re still sitting in his lap, right over his crotch.

Wanting to climb off of him and just fucking bury yourself in a ditch, you start stuttering like an absolute fool, “Oh... Y-yeah, no, of course! Shit, shit, I’m sorry. Of course we don’t have t-”

Minho holds you in place, one of the hands on your hips goes to cup your cheek to make you look at him. It effectively shuts you right up.

“Sorry. I shouldn’t have phrased it like that,” he says, his thumb brushing over your cheekbone in an earnest apology. “I just want to keep kissing you. Is that okay?”

You’re at a loss for words. He’s holding your face, your waist, so delicately. He looks drunk on your presence alone even though neither of you have had a single drop of alcohol tonight, so sincere in his simple request that you feel your heart swell tenfold.

You want it too. You’re more than okay with just kissing him.

You don’t answer him verbally. Instead, you just nod and move to kiss him again, your hands tangled in his soft hair. The sweetness of the tangerines grows more and more distant as you chase his lips, but you can taste his smile. It’s infinitely more saccharine, and it only grows sweeter when he holds you close and knocks the breath out of you.

When you pull away for air, you slump against him, hiding your face in the crook of his face, shy all of a sudden. He keeps you there but continues with his onslaught of kisses - on your hair, your cheek, your neck, anywhere his lips can reach. Like he simply can’t get enough of you.

“You really like kissing,” you comment, giggling quietly as you do. “Even when we… y’know, bone.”

“Bone? You’re so romantic, babe.” You feel the rumbles of Minho’s chest as he lets out a hearty laugh, the sound of which fills the space of your modest home, embeds itself in every nook and crevice, in between every minuscule crack in your walls until the whole place feels warmer, brighter somehow. “Are you complaining?”

“No... just pointing it out.”

“Well, I like kissing you,” he says. “You’re not a terrible kisser, I guess.”

You sit up straighter and catch the teasing grin on his face before you roll your eyes. “Gee, thanks. You really know how to sweet talk a girl.”

“Says the girl who uses ‘bone’ to describe sex.”

“It’s a perfectly good euphemism for ‘sex’.”

“You might as well just say ‘boink’.”

“Literally shut up.”

“Sure.”

Then he’s pressing his mischievous smile against your mouth once more, and you can’t really wrap your mind around how it’s even possible that he keeps getting sweeter and sweeter. His sugary kisses send warmth tingling up your spine, make a fluttery sensation erupt in your stomach. You’re lightheaded, and not the kind that can be remedied by a sufficient fix of blood oxygen.

Even though you’re perfectly content with kissing, there’s a certain implication that comes with only kissing that you’re not sure what to do with. He’s literally inside of you on a weekly basis and yet, this feels much more intimate than anything you two have ever done.

Because friends don’t kiss each other the way he’s kissing you right now. Friends don’t kiss each other the way you’re kissing him back.

A chime from your phone breaks you two apart, the intrusion forcing a mildly frustrated grunt from Minho. You find the mobile device hidden between the cushions of your couch, and after you quickly scan the notification on the screen, you tell him, “It’s Hyunjin.”

“What did I say? It’s always him at the scene of the crime,” Minho mutters, speaking in the same tone that one would when their sibling interrupts a round of their favorite video game. “What does he want?”

“Just wants me to send him a photo of the sample portfolio from our class.”

“Ignore him. He can wait.”

“He’ll call me if I don’t reply.”

“He’s so annoying,” Minho grumbles but loosens his hold on you nonetheless. “Hurry back.”

“It’ll only take a minute, you big baby,” you chuckle, pressing a swift peck to his lips before you get up from the couch and head toward your bedroom with your phone in hand, searching for the binder that Hyunjin is asking about.

Once you’ve snapped the picture and sent it to your friend, you return to the living room. When Minho hears your footsteps, he holds out an arm, silently beckoning you into his embrace again. And you do. You slide into the space next to him, slotting perfectly against his side.

Your fingers absentmindedly trace along his forearm until they reach his wrist. “This is pretty,” you say, touching the thin link bracelet that he always wears, the one with a small charm hanging off the center in the simple outline of a dove.

“You like it? I’ve had it for ages.”

“Mhmm, it suits you.”

A moment passes where you both sit in silence as you fiddle with the gold jewelry, and you can feel Minho’s eyes on your face the entire time. After a while, he pries your fingers off his skin, only to swiftly take off the trinket.

“No, Min. What are you doing?”

He doesn’t answer you. You attempt (in vain) to pull your wrist back but Minho is stronger. He holds it in place as he clasps the chain around your wrist.

“Minho, you are not giving me your bracelet.”

“Relax. It’s not like it was passed down from my great-great-grandfather. It’s just a random bracelet I bought when I was 18.”

“Why would you even give me your bracelet?”

He shrugs, as though he’s merely doing something as simple as letting you borrow you a pen. “It looks good on you.”

You look down to where his hand is still on your skin, his thumb gently sliding over your pulse point as he admires how the dainty gold reflects the dim lighting in your home.

And he’s right. It does look good, but he probably doesn’t mean it in the same way that you’re thinking of right now. You think it looks good because it’s something that belongs to him that’s now wrapped snugly around your wrist, like some sort of affirmation spoken in a language that only the two of you can understand.

Minho leans over and presses his warm lips to your forehead. It takes you by surprise, the way he does it as if it’s second nature to be this affectionate with you. It’s a tipping point, then suddenly your thoughts are running rampant.

The instruction has always been plain and simple: No strings attached.

But...

The chaste kisses with no expectation of sex, being protective when you’re in the presence of other guys, even giving you his bracelet to wear just because you said it was pretty.

Why do all of these sound an awful lot like strings?

You hesitate, then you ask, “What are we doing?”

“Hmm? You wanna watch another movie?”

“No, that’s not... What are we doing?” You don’t even know what word to put more emphasis on.

Minho looks at you and loosens his fingers. What he can’t understand through your words, you think he sees it in your eyes. “Say what you mean.”

“Are we friends?”

“Of course we are.”

“Are we still friends?”

“Do you not want to be friends anymore?” He cracks a smile, but you can tell that he’s just doing it to lighten you up. “You have terrible timing. I literally just gave you a bracelet.”

“Friends don’t do that.”

“Friends don’t give each other bracelets?”

“Friends don’t kiss like that.”

Minho seems a bit taken aback, though he regains his composure in mere seconds, his voice calm as he tells you, “Friends don’t have sex either.”

“What are you saying?”

“I don’t know. What are you saying? You brought it up.”

You open your mouth, only to subsequently close it because your thoughts were never really that coherent in the first place. You look away from him to glance down at your wrist.

“You’re being confusing,” Minho says quietly, honestly.

“I just… I don’t want anything to change.”

“Did anything change for you?” he asks.

“No,” is what you tell him after a long minute, when what you really mean to say is I don’t know. You can see it as it happens, some stars fading from his eyes, some light growing more faint in his irises. Though the despondence on his face disappears so fast that you’re not sure if it was even there at all, or if it was only a figment of your imagination.

Then you throw the question back at him. “Did anything change? For you?”

Minho’s answer is the same as yours - a clear No - and yet, it makes you feel like you’ve been punctured by something sharp. You don’t know why your heart drops upon hearing him say the exact same thing that you did, but you try not to let it show on your face. Your poker face isn’t anywhere as good as his, but you hope that it’s enough.

You give him a tight-lipped smile and nod a little.

“Then nothing’s changed.” He strokes your hair, emphasizing his point with a soft smile as he reassures you, “And nothing has to change. It’s a bracelet, don’t overthink it. We’re good.”

Sometimes, the decisions you make are bad because you can foresee the outcomes, or at least, you have an idea of the consequences will be later on and yet, you still choose to go through with it anyway.

Just like how you chose to watch a movie you knew would drive you crazy with its trivial details, you choose to accept the feeling of Minho’s bracelet around your wrist. You choose to believe him when he said nothing has changed, and that nothing has to change. You choose to sweep under the rug the thoughts that you’ve been having about him lately. You choose to overlook the reason why you’ve been having those thoughts instead of facing it head-on because you’re terrified of what you’d find if you dig deeper.

You choose to let the conversation end here though it still lingers in your mind, and you choose to let him kiss you goodnight when he leaves because tonight has already been a series of bad decision after bad decision anyway.

And when you fall asleep, it’s the soothing coolness of the golden dove against your skin that lulls you to slumber, like he’s here right beside you to hold you through the night.

permanent taglist: @onlyycb97wife @starsandrqindrops @borahae-reads @abbiestearsricochet @cutiespaghetti @anthropologykpopmultistan @moonlinos @mjnhoz @caitlyn98s @piercidh34rts  @stayceebs97 @linocz @yaorzu-blog @biribarabiribbaem @kayleefriedchicken @extrhotjne @caitxx1 @palindrome969 @todorokiskitten @azuna-sz @meanergreener @nxzz-skz @jazziwritesthings @poutypoutybin @bookyeom (italicized = can’t tag)

series taglist: @eyesforlino @armystay89 @nuronhe @becomingmina @astro-doll-the-star @hyuneyeon @jisunglyricist @yoontaethings @thisisnotjacinta @cupidcure @wyzminho

all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 18.02.2024]

[sopebubbles]

Two

Masterlist

Synopsis: in a world where alphas, betas, and omegas live along side modern humans as second class citizens, you've fallen through the cracks of a society that wants to take everything wonderful from you. Luckily a timely encounter with the boys just might save your life.

Chapter summary: the boys try to find your pack and face some painful truths.

Warnings: I feel like I should warn you that mc does not appear on screen at all for this whole chapter, language, honestly it's just pretty fuckin angsty.

Wc: 4k

The ride through the kaleidoscope of traffic lights and street lamps passed in near silence as they got closer to your address. Jungkook didn't notice, as caught up as he was in his own head, but for Yoongi the tension was excruciating. With one hand still on the wheel he stretched the other out to grip Jungkook's arm.

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

Jungkook turned slowly to look at the other. "Talk about what?"

With a knowing smile that wasn't truly happy at all, Yoongi slid his hand down to grasp Jungkook's fist, which had been clenched to trembling on his thigh.

"Whatever is bothering you."

Jungkook rubbed his forehead and sighed, consciously unclenching his fist to let his fingers slot between Yoongi's and take the comfort the alpha's large, warm hands offered. He wouldn't really know where to begin. He'd seen so much shit today, the worst parts of society, and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it. When he first became a cop less than a year ago, he thought he could make a difference, make this world a safer place for everyone in it. But he'd quickly learned that more often than not he was merely a witness, someone who gathered the pieces to say this is what happened when something terrible occurred and to pray for justice that would likely never come. Sometimes it was just a bit too much to handle or to speak of.

Yoongi knew that all too well. And Jungkook knew the offer to talk was just that, an offer, not a demand. Like Jungkook and Jimin, Yoongi saw horror on a daily basis, and he knew there were times that there weren't words to speak. All the pack knew there was an overwhelming amount of injustice all around them. Jin saw so much evidence of it in his office where he worked within the legal system to try and make a difference. But none of them saw it as viscerally each and every day the way the three of them did.

"I can't stop thinking about the phone call with that woman. The way she sounded…not just disgusted but shocked. She really had no idea that Y/N isn't Sap. How is that even possible?"

Yoongi shrugged. "It's not uncommon for Lykos to try to pass for Sapiens in the workplace. It's usually only betas who can get away with it but," he shrugged again. "You said it was a bar right? Between scent blockers and so many other people, maybe it's easy to hide. She gets better wages, better tips. Even though lots of professions aren't required to disclose a second gender, there are plenty of assholes out there that won't hire an omega. Or an alpha for that matter," Yoongi added.

Jungkook sneered. "I still can't believe there are betas out there who honestly think it's better for them to pretend to be Saps. I could never imagine doing that. To just disown your entire heritage like that?" He shook his head and stared out the window.

Yoongi just pursed his lips. He didn't think he could explain it to Jungkook, nor did he think it would matter at the moment. It was good that Jungkook was a proud Lykos, that he was proud of his family and his pack. But Yoongi knew from experience that it wasn't so easy for everyone. Passing for Sapien was, in most cases, a uniquely beta privilege. It was probably even harder for alphas than omegas in Yoongi's opinion. If Yoongi could have passed for Sapien or if alphas weren't so strongly discriminated against, he might have gone to med school and become a doctor. Not that Yoongi was complaining. He was proud to do his job most of the time, even if it wasn't everything he had once dreamed. Luckily, Yoongi didn't have to continue the conversation because the GPS on his phone told them they had arrived.

The building they were looking at was a dingy, dilapidated brown that hadn't seen a fresh coat of paint in several decades. Just as well. The building would probably be better off torn down than renovated.

"Jesus," Yoongi muttered under his breath. Jungkook unbuckled his seat belt. "Wait, let's have a plan. You wanna do good cop, bad cop?" Yoongi asked, gesturing first to his partner and then to himself.

Jungkook shook his head but there was a smile on his lips. "How about a cop and a concerned citizen."

Yoongi sighed. "Sounds lame, but okay."

The pair exited the vehicle and walked briskly up to the front door. The external entrance to the building didn't appear to have any functional lock, and Yoongi's alpha growled in his head at the lack of security as they walked right in the door. Inside, they could hear several TVs playing loudly, probably trying and failing to drown out the sound of the couple fighting on the second floor who they heard as Jungkook navigated them to the unit printed on your license. The mixture of scents in the building was just as loud. Everyone living in the building must be Lykos. When they arrived at #23–only the gold 2 was still present on the door while the 3 was outlined by peeling brown paint–Jungkook rapped on the door with three firm, decisive knocks. Yoongi could practically hear every asshole in the building clench at the sound of what could only be a cop's knock. He had to suppress a chuckle.

After a few seconds, they heard the sound of a chain and several deadbolts make way so that a young Lykos could open the door a few inches. By the smell of her, Yoongi would guess she was a beta.

"Good evening, ma'am. We're sorry to bother you. We're looking for the home of a woman named Y/N Y/L/N. Does she live here?"

"No, sir. She doesn't live here." The woman replied mechanically. Jungkook couldn't read her expression from behind the door.

"Please, we need to get in touch with her family. If you have any information about her," Jungkook pressed.

The woman hesitated a moment before speaking again. "Wait just a moment."

She closed the door on them and Jungkook and Yoongi shared a look of raised eyebrows. The former hoped to hear the slide of the last chain, but seconds ticked by and when she returned the door remained blocked. The woman passed several envelopes through the small space.

"I think she must have been that sad omega that lived here before me. I've been collecting these. Meant to take them to be returned to sender but I keep forgetting. Maybe you can get them to her."

Jungkook took the envelopes, not knowing what else he could do. He cleared his throat. "Thanks."

The beta closed the door once again without another word.

Jungkook heaved a defeated sigh and turned back to Yoongi. He flipped through the various envelopes he had been given. Past dues and final notices in among the junk. Just as they were about to walk toward the exit, a door on the opposite side of the hall opened, and a man stood against the door jam with his arms crossed.

"You looking for that little omega girl?" The tall man asked. Yoongi didn't need to smell him to know he was an alpha. He didn't want to smell him.

"Maybe. You know anything about her?" Jungkook replied vaguely.

"Y/N, right?" Jungkook gave a curt nod. "She lived across the hall for a year and a half. Three weeks ago she was evicted," the alpha informed him. Jungkook looked down at the late bills in his hand. That made sense.

"Any idea where she lives now? Or how to get in touch with her pack?" Yoongi chimed in.

The man gave an amused smile and shook his head. "This is not a place for people with packs," he answered with a gesture toward the general state of the place. "People in this building are usually lone wolves," he added. "Not that I didn't offer to help her with her heats, you know? I'm a helpful guy, especially for a pretty little omega like that."

Jungkook swallowed down the bile that rose in his throat while Yoongi merely stared the man down with a stoney look usually reserved for people who walked a little too close to Hoseok.

"Yeah, thanks for your help," Jungkook muttered as he walked past the man's door and down the hall toward the exit. Yoongi held his stance until Jungkook was a few paces ahead and then fell in line.

The drive back home was even more silent than before, and when they finally arrived they were surprised to find the house just as quiet. All five of their pack members were still awake, but no one spoke as Hoseok sat at the entrance to the hallway and stared down Namjoon and Taehyung. Jin cradled Jimin in his lap with his face buried in Jimin's scent gland. Or maybe it was Jimin that was holding him down.

"What's going on here?" Yoongi chuckled as he dropped his keys into the communal dish.

"These spoiled little alpha fucks have forgotten what the word no means," Hoseok replied, arms flexing as the crossed tightly over his chest.

"Is that so?" Yoongi asked with a raised brow.

"Yes, and just in case you've forgotten too: it means you cannot mount strange omegas without their consent, and consent cannot be given in the middle of heat," Hoseok said tightly.

"Jesus, did you jump her?" Jungkook asked, looking at his mates.

"No. We did not jump her!" Namjoon insisted just a little too forcefully.

"But you would have!" Hoseok fired back. "Alpha scum."

"You're acting like we're pigs or something," Taehyung grumbled.

"You are pigs," Jimin offered from behind him.

"You guys don't get it," Jin finally broke in, showing his face for the first time. "It's not like we want to fuck her. It's just a need. We are alphas, it's our duty to breed an omega in heat."

Yoongi shook his head as he joined his fellow alphas on the couch, squeezing in between Jin and Taehyung before pulling Jimin half-way into his lap to get a sniff because yeah, your scent had saturated every molecule of air inside the house. "Yeah, I don't think that's gonna fly this time, Jin."

"Look, we are doing our best to control ourselves here. Can you give us some credit?" Namjoon asked, but he only met with Hoseok's stony glare.

"Do you think her actual alphas will be thanking you for your bare minimum decency?" He turned his head to Jungkook. "Speaking of which, did you find them?"

Jungkook sat down near Hoseok and for once made an effort not to let his scent spread out, not until he could level himself out. The omega was on high alert, and didn't miss the pungent edge of mildew coming from him. Hoseok grabbed his sleeve and tugged until the beta scooted closer.

"What's wrong? What happened?" He urged as he ran fingers through Jungkook's hair.

The youngest sighed. "She doesn't live there but she used to. An old neighbor said she got evicted a few weeks back."

"No forwarding address?" Jin asked, fighting to keep his clarity.

"Neighbor said she was a 'lone wolf,'" Yoongi added, voice muffled by Jimin.

"Alone?" Someone echoed as Jungkook rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands.

"That place…it was awful. Even though I see it all the time—I don't think. I come home every night and I let myself forget that there are people out there with no pack, who are struggling just to survive."

"Kookie," Hoseok cooed, rubbing a hand up and down his mate's back.

"We're very lucky," Jin agreed.

"There are so many loners these days. We're trying so hard to get kids into good packs, but it can be tough to find the right fit. And so many of them have trust issues or have never had a pack…they don't know what they're getting into at all. It scares me to think that could have been me," Jimin reflected. It was only a handful of years ago that a chance meeting with Yoongi had led him to his home. Jimin's light scent and lack of a family history often excluded him from groups and from forming proper bonds with other Lykos. He was the last to join their pack, but it was always a blessing.

The sadness filling the room and his mates caused panic to rise in Hoseok's chest. His fingers curled into Jungkook's shirt. "Maybe the neighbor was wrong. Maybe she moved out to move in with a pack!" He suggested with forced cheerfulness. "Did you find any other leads in her bag?"

Jungkook shook his head. "I didn't have a chance."

Hoseok popped to his feet. "I'll go get it from the room!" He paused as he turned. "Keep your eyes on those four," he added before padding to your door and closing it behind him in a futile attempt to keep your heavy scent inside.

"I was just reading an article today about how pack life is healthier for people. Omegas live 8 years longer on average as part of a pack than alone," Namjoon told them just to fill the silence. He was one of the lucky ones, like Jin, Hoseok, Tae and Jungkook, who had only ever known pack life. For them any other way seemed inconceivable. They'd gone from pups to their own mature pack without ever living one night on their own, but even the thought of it ached with unbearable loneliness. Lykos were not meant to be alone.

Hoseok returned a moment later, large black purse in hand.

"How is she?" Yoongi asked.

Hoseok gave a dramatic eye roll. "She's fine."

"Hyung," Tae whined.

"She's so fucking out of it she doesn't know where she is right now, Taehyung."

That did not soothe any of the alphas fraying nerves.

"Maybe we could just cuddle–"

"No." Hoseok cut Namjoon off. "You are not going in there for anything. End of discussion."

He dropped the bag on the floor in front of Jungkook, who opened it and began to carefully sort through your belongings. At the top of the bag was a change of clothes that he couldn't stop himself from taking a sniff of, catching your normal crisp apple scent instead of the gooey apple pie you were giving off tonight. The trace on the shirt was so faint it was almost drowned out among the other smells in the house.

"Let me smell it," Namjoon chirped before he could stop himself.

"Don't you feel embarrassed?" Hoseok returned quickly and harshly, and Namjoon cowed his head because he did.

Jungkook merely set the clothes to the side and continued to search. Next he pulled out two boxes of extra strength scent blockers, the kind that go inside your nose so you don't smell anyone around you, and then a bottle of scent spray that you bought at a Sap store. It smelled similar to your apple, but more artificial and layered with other scents.

"I guess this is how she passes," Jungkook mumbled as he set the items in front of Hoseok, who picked up the bottle and sniffed its top, wrinkling his nose at the chemical smell. Your scent was much nicer than that.

The pack's attention was drawn to a rattling sound before Jungkook pulled out a large plastic medicine bottle. He looked briefly at the label before shaking the bottle and then handed it to Hoseok.

"If she had a full bottle of heat suppressants, why did she go down like that?" Jungkook wondered aloud.

The omega beside him unscrewed the cap and shook a single pill into his hand. "Holy fuck! I didn't know they were this big! How does anyone swallow that?"

"Let me see?" Jimin asked. He was probably more familiar with heat suppressants than any other pack member because they were required in order to stay in pretty much any mixed-gender shelter, and even in many single-gender ones. Hoseok replaced the cap and tossed the bottle across the room. Jimin picked it out of the air with one hand and brought it down in front of him and Yoongi. "Where the fuck did she get these?" Jimin asked after reading the label.

"What is it?" Jungkook asked. It wasn't something he was particularly well-versed in since Hobi had never taken any. And he'd never had any other omega.

"I've only ever heard about these," Yoongi said, taking the bottle from Jimin. "Some omega activists are trying to get these banned. They have mega doses of hormones to stop heats, but they can cause permanent damage to an omega's reproductive system. I've also heard that most omegas don't like to take them unless they have to because the side effects are really harsh."

"I've heard rumors that some of the shelters give them out to omegas who want to stay," Jimin added.

"Is this one of them?" Jungkook asked when he found a crumpled flier in your bag. The paper showed a posed group of people wearing smiles outside a generic looking building in the downtown area. It also stated the hours of operation and contact information. Jimin held out a hand and Jungkook passed it through the alphas to him.

Jimin gasped quietly. "This is the worst shelter in town. The people who run this are fundamentalists who think that Lykos are abominations. They preach that we are unnatural and against god. Kids sometimes come to us from there and have said they were prevented from nesting or sharing beds with others. I'm sure they gave her these before letting her in but-" That didn't answer how you had ended up in your current state.

Jungkook thought he was going to be sick, and he wasn't alone.

"Why would anyone go to an organization like that?" Taehyung wondered, his hand sliding into Namjoon's.

"Some people don't have any choice," Jimin answered.

Everyone sat in quiet thought for a moment until the sound of Jungkook's sob broke from his chest. Six heads snapped in his direction, but only one spoke up.

"Jungkook, come here, baby," Jin said with arms held open. Jimin moved down to sit over Namjoon and Taehyung while Yoongi squeezed to make room for Jungkook. In spite of being a beta, Jungkook was just a little too large to sit comfortably in the pack alpha's lap, but he sat down and let Jin pull his legs over his lap and snuggled into his chest. "Tell alpha what's going on," Jin cooed.

Jungkook tried to calm his sobs, which got easier when Yoongi pressed himself against the beta's back. It took a minute before he was able to speak, but no one rushed him.

"I saw an omega get killed today," he finally said in a watery voice. "He was just a couple years younger than Y/N. He was alone and he was shot by some hateful Sap, for no reason. And all I could think at the time was where is his pack? Why didn't they protect him? But he didn't have a pack. There wasn't anyone to call. And then we found Y/N. And I just…why isn't there anyone to call?"

Jin hugged the man tighter to his chest and let him cry. "It's okay, Kook. Let it out. It's okay. There are four good alphas here and no one is going to get hurt," he assured in a soft voice.

Jungkook sucked in the deepest breath he could before he pulled away and leaned into Yoongi. "Sorry, it was kind of a fucked up day," he said as he wiped his eyes.

Yoongi gave his arm a squeeze, one that said he was sorry there were so many fucked up days, because Yoongi always knew more about them than the others, because sometimes Yoongi and Jungkook would lay in the nest in the spare room and whisper the things that haunted them before they could go to sleep.

"You should have told me before we went out, Kookie. We didn't have to go." Jimin reached a hand out across the alphas and Jungkook took it.

"I'm glad we did though." He didn't want to think what it would be like otherwise.

"Pup, you need to tell us when things are weighing on you like that," Hoseok chided, still rooted to his spot on the floor.

"I honestly can't bring that to you all the time," Jungkook admitted.

"We’re your pack, Jungkook-ah," Jin reminded him. "It's our job to share your burden, especially when it's too hard."

"I'll try."

Hoseok sighed. "It's late. Everyone, go to bed. We can decide what to do next in the morning."

No one argued with the omega. The tone of the conversation had dampened their yearning for you in the other room.

"Are you coming, my love?" Jin asked with an arm outstretched to pull him up.

Hoseok shook his head. "You all go on."

"Honey, you can't sit here all night."

"I'll get some things settled for her and then I'll sleep on the couch. No one will get past me."

Jin pouted. "But it won't be the same in the nest without you. You haven't even gotten a chance to build it up yet. How can we sleep there?" Seokjin always became so codependent when he was sleepy.

Hoseok's resolve cracked just a little.

"Hobi, you go up. I'll stay down here. I think I'd be more relaxed that way anyway," Jungkook suggested. It would be easier to rest if he knew you were safe from danger. Is this what it felt like to be an alpha all the time?

Hoseok grumbled but he was already giving in. "I can't let you go to sleep smelling like that."

With a wave of the omega's hand, all of his packmates gathered around Jungkook and marked wherever they could reach until he smelled like the unique blend of scents that to him smelled like home. When they finally backed away, Jungkook wore a dopey, scent-high smile, and Hoseok could go upstairs to his nest with one fewer worry.

Once they had all gone up to bed, Jungkook took a thick blanket from the hall closet that was too thick to use this time of year and laid it out on the floor in front of your door along with a pillow from the couch. He thought briefly about going in to check on you, but he honestly wasn't sure he would be able to stop himself from climbing in the nest to cuddle you. He couldn't stop thinking about the way they wouldn't let you sleep with others in the shelter, or how you had probably slept alone for at least a year and a half prior to that. But Hoseok was right about boundaries and consent, and he could be good if he just stayed on this side of the door. If you couldn't be comforted, you could at least be safe.

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[stusbunker]

Spotless: Larghetto

Chapter Thirty

Featuring: Dean Winchester/Reader, Dean/Bela

Other characters: Gibson child OMC, Lee, Sam, Pamela

Word Count: 3310

Warnings, etc: Mutual pining, angsty af flashback, Dean does Uncle things, apologizes, and makes up his mind-ish, still unbeta'd

Shout out to @lastactiontricia for her help talking me through this one

Series Masterlist

The moment Dean's ass hit his seat on the Proud Mary the following afternoon, it all clicked into place. They were back on the road. The apology tour was in full swing. Okay, no one actually called it that, but it was essentially that. Something settled inside him with the realization, his ribcage was suddenly spacious from the lack of shrapnel. Dean took a deep breath to adjust for the extra room.

Huh.

The rest of the band found their usual books and Kevin waited patiently until everyone seemed settled before he plopped down on the aisle seat a row ahead of Dean. 

The last ones on the bus were Gibson and Bobby, who no doubt was running the kid around the venue to burn off some of that unquenchable energy only children possess. 

“Alright, Gibby go find your daddy! I've got a bus to steer,” Bobby sent him off simply, before turning to the rest of them. “Everybody ready?”

“Sound off,” Pamela bellowed to make sure everyone who had to be there was there.

“Gibson?”

The little dude giggled at being first. “Here!”

Bobby smiled as much as he ever did and turned to the other side of the bus.

“Kid?”

“Present!” Kevin replied.

“And Dean's here I made sure of that already,” Bobby muttered, not letting Dean off the hook for yesterday so soon. Dean tried not to look too put out by it; he deserved worse. Everyone else sniggered and oo’ed at the burn. 

Bobby’s attention slid further back, eyeing people as he said their names. “Sam?”

He didn’t say anything, but Dean was pretty sure he caught Sam raising his hand in his periphery.

“Pam’s got her ducks in a row, I see. Trouble, you good, darlin’?”

“All good, Bobby,” you said somewhere in the back.

Dean tuned out the rest of the roll call, knowing between both buses everyone would be accounted for, scratch that the three buses now with Jodi and Donna’s crew. Hearing your voice reminded Dean that he still owed you an apology for his disappearing act. And to say he was nervous about it was an understatement, because he didn’t think he could tell you what actually set him off, not outright.

It wasn’t your fault, or Victor’s for that matter. But there was no way it came out without sounding like he was placing the blame elsewhere. No, it would be better to keep it short and cut his losses. Less is more and all that.

By the time he made up his mind to get it over with, the bus lurched forward into traffic and Dean knew better than to go walking around until they were on the interstate. As big as the thing was, standing while it kept stopping and starting could make even the most seasoned traveler queasy. So he stayed put and put on his headphones to let the familiar sensations distract him as he waited.

Before he knew it, Dean had nodded off.

April 2017

The curtains of his hotel room were pulled open and Dean groaned against the assault of daylight against his hangover.

“Bus is leaving in a half-hour. Get in the shower or I’ll get Sam to make you,” you didn’t beat around the bush.

Dean didn’t open his eyes. He felt you moving around the room, tidying while he stretched, yet remained stubbornly in bed. He had never had a handler, except for major events like public album releases. Your dotting made him feel important. Like he was above you, higher up than just from being part of the band that employed you. His festering ego drank in the servitude. 

His knuckles popped as he flexed his fingers, broken skin stinging as it stretched wide. He did not want to move. He wanted to see how far his skin could split and still stitch itself back together.

“I don’t know how you managed to make a hotel room smell so bad in less than two days, but I do not envy the cleaning crew,” you muttered as you shoved his dirty clothes into his duffel. “Dean!”

“What?!”

“Get up!”

“Fuck off.” Dean rolled over and cradled a pillow under his aching head.

Suddenly he was dragged down the bed, the comforter pulling him with it until he rocked onto his side and all of the bedding slid off his naked body and onto the floor.

A strangled sound came out of your mouth, an angry cousin of a gasp. “What the—- where did all those bruises come from?”

“Yeah, cuz that’s what you’re looking at,” Dean snipped, hauling himself upright, unfazed by the horror on your face. After a few moments of not meeting your eye, he couldn’t take your gawking sympathy any longer. It all made his skin itch. “I’m up! That’s what you wanted, right? Now you can go.”

Immediately he saw you fold, tuck away all that natural concern, and put on your business face. “If you’re not downstairs in fifteen minutes, I’m sending Sam AND Bobby to get you. And if that doesn’t work? I’m sending Pamela.”

Dean rolled his eyes and dragged his ass to sit on the edge of the bed.

“How’d you even get in? Jesus!”

That was the wrong question to ask. You stomped past him and made a show of swinging a very broken hotel room door back and forth. “How do you think I got in?! How’d the lock break, Dean? Hmm? Was it the cops or just security crashing the little mosh-pit-orgy combo you had up here last night?”

It was him. He kicked in the door because he couldn’t find his key. The girls he had picked up from the afterparty were starting to whine. And he really just needed the night to be over, but his damn thoughts wouldn’t shut up. So, he figured if he got his dick wet enough his downstairs brain would override all of that.

He told you none of this.

But by the smell, the mess, and the used condoms, you had figured out enough.

Oh, and by his bare ass, that too.

Dean stood up and blocked you from getting further into the suite again.

“Get out of my fucking room you fucking groupie! I swear to god I’ll call security. Send Sam, hell, send Bobby! I fucking dare you! They won’t care what you say. You little narc. I know how to do my job, maybe you should remember what yours is and stop shoving your nose in everybody else’s business. Christ!”

Dean had never seen hurt like that flash in your eyes, but it only added to his twisted vindictiveness. The rotten truth that he didn’t deserve you looking after him paired with the insurmountable belief that he could do it all on his own anyway had him continuing to push you away.

“Why don’t you go find somebody who gives a damn, huh? Cuz none of us need your sorry ass around, Trouble. I mean it. You're just a charity case for the band. Even Cas.”

You inhaled through your nose. Dean watched you darkly, waiting for the waterworks. You didn’t give him the satisfaction.

You plastered on a company smile. “Now you’ve only got ten minutes, Mr. Winchester. It’s a good thing you’re already undressed for that shower, isn’t it?” 

Dean watched as you stormed down the hall and jabbed the call button for the elevator. Before you could look back to see if he was doing what he was told, Dean slammed the broken door closed, forgetting the jagged frame, and watched helplessly as it simply bounced back at him.

Thankfully, the bathroom door still worked.

Dean’s nap was short lived. Instead, he silently berated himself for saving your apology for last. Though to keep from putting it off, he told himself it would only get better once he actually got it over with. Call that progress. He stared at the seat back in front of him and willed himself to move.

The thing about going to therapy and putting in the work, Dean now knew why he did a lot of the things he did. But that didn’t make any of the accountability easier.

   Dean hauled himself up and waited a beat for his bus legs to come back to him. He grunted as he stretched and glanced around the bus. Kevin had his head down and his arms crossed over his chest, while his massive headphones kept Dean from knowing if he was sleeping or just lost in sound. Annie was dozing draped over two seats on the other side of the space that was far too wide to be considered an aisle.

Dean leaned over and flicked Sam’s topknot because he could. Which earned him the finger, but the easy annoyance supplied him with just enough ease to let a grin slip onto his face. He spotted Lee and Gibson at the kitchen table playing cards.

“Playing Kings on the Corner if you’re up for it?” Lee mentioned as he shuffled. 

“Pssh! Gibson, I would have thought you’d be running a Blackjack table by now. Let’s put some money down,” Dean teased as he approached. That was when he spotted you with your nose in a paperback, sharing a row with an eye masked Pamela. 

“Trouble! Why don’t you get in on this game, huh? I’m sure—.” Dean bent over to read the cover. “I’m sure Hoover, the writer, not the vacuum, wouldn’t mind if you took a breather. It’s for a good cause! That being Gibson’s college fund,” he trailed off.

Lee just smirked at him.

God, he felt so obvious.

“Does Gibson even want me to play?” you said knowingly.

“Sure does, don’cha, buddy?!” Lee swooped in and helped Dean save face.

Gibson knew when to lay it on thick. “Please?! It’s better with four people!” 

Dean’s chest thrummed with the look you gave his surrogate nephew, equally attentive, exasperated, and amused. 

“Is that so?” you asked, waiting to hear out a six-year-old’s reasons.

“Yeah, cuz it’s Kings on the Corner. And there’s four corners,” Gibson summarized beautifully, pointing to each spot someone could fit around the table.

Dean looked at you and shrugged. Who could argue with that logic? You held Dean’s gaze and smiled secretly, so as not to let Gibson think you were laughing at him. Which made Dean feel warm, and so very grateful that he could still share that kind of smile with you. 

You set your book down and Dean eased into the bench seat to make room for you. “And how is this helping Gibson’s college fund exactly?”

Dean ducked his head. “Well, not THIS game, but I was thinking, uh, maybe after a few rounds we put a little cash on the table. A little five card stud or blackjack maybe?”

Lee chuckled. “Gonna let him have the real tour bus experience?”

Gibson worked on shuffling the cards as the adults held their breaths over that clearly downplayed idea of what goes on on tour, especially on the bus in question. God, Dean was gonna crack at any moment, between the warning in Lee’s eyes and the mischief in yours.

You rolled your eyes and cleared your throat. “Need help?” you asked the now struggling child with hands too small for a proper bridge shuffle.

“Eh, he’s doing alright.” Dean exhaled, letting the adult humor fade out of the conversation naturally.

“Yeah, I got it,” Gibson agreed, tapping the edges to get the cards to line up smoothly.

You all made it through three hands of Kings on the Corner before switching to a very mild game of BlackJack. Dean took the pot of a cool fifty bucks from Lee just as Bobby pulled up to their next hotel. He helped Gibson clean up and put the deck of cards back in a basket the band kept underneath the bench seat along with a few other games and puzzle books.

Pamela, still groggy from her nap, called Gibson over to grab his backpack as everyone started gathering their things to check in. Dean ruffled his dark hair and thanked him for a good game as he passed by you both.

“That was fun— he’s such a trip,” you said fondly.

“Yeah, ‘s probably my favorite kid ever. Way less of a whiner than Sam ever was,” Dean agreed. 

“I should probably get my shit together,” you said, clearly not in a rush to move.

“Yeah— it’s not like the hotel is going anywhere.” Dean just needed to get this over with. “Hey, listen, about yesterday—.”

“Yeah what was that, mister?!” you tried to keep it light, but something in the tone of your voice told him it was a bigger deal than you were putting on.

“I’m sorry. I just—.” Dean wiped his hand down his mouth and thought about how he was going to explain himself. “I had to work through some negative energy. I should have told somebody where I was going and that I was okay— I just saw red and needed to move before I did something stupid.”

You listened, clearly worried, but didn’t press him for more than he wanted to give. “Is everything alright now? I mean, the show was great— nobody would have known.”

Dean thought back to the show the night before, so much came to mind, but also hundreds of shows before it filtered in to muddle the fresh memories. “I’m good. And next time I need to take a breather I’ll let somebody know so I don’t freak anybody out. I know better— that was all on me.”

“If you’re sure—”

Dean knocked your shoulder with his. “I’m sure. Thanks for lookin’ out. It means a lot.”

“Of course!” Your brow furled like he was an idiot to expect otherwise. 

Maybe he was.

He definitely didn’t want you asking more into it. He glanced around the bus, half the band had already cleared out, but Bobby was still helping Annie get her bags together before they’d head inside to confirm all of the reservations.

“I guess we better scoot before they lock up.” Dean stood hunched over, waiting for you to let him out of his spot.

“Yeah, god I hope I’m by the elevator this time. My legs feel like cement blocks today,” you confided, slowly getting up and letting Dean stand to his full height.

“You were rocking some serious heels last night—- your knee isn’t acting up is it?”

You glanced at him with a curious tilt to your head, walking back to tuck your book in your messenger bag. “You saw my boots? Why— Um, no, knee’s fine. Well, as good as it ever is.”

Dean burned as he realized he had admitted to checking out your legs, which really was the least of his recent sins, but still shouldn’t have slipped out. “Oh, okay— that’s good. I just know some docs in Vegas if you needed some pain relief or needed it looked at—- or anything.”

 You shrugged your bag onto your shoulder and grabbed your phone from the ledge by the window. “I’ll keep that in mind. Hopefully I won’t need it though.”

“Right.” Dean exhaled and stepped back to let you head to the bus doors.

Before Dean could even remember to grab his own stuff, a gruff voice broke through his brain fog. “Real smooth.”

He spun to see Sam smirking at him beneath his stupid hair and oversized headphones. “Shut up, bitch.”

“After you, jerk.”

The next afternoon, Dean had Gibson on his back as they made a mad dash for the bathroom in the Children’s Zoo area at the San Diego Zoo.

“Excuse us, emergency,” Dean said as he dodged through the crowd of strangers and more strollers than he could count. Didn’t these people have something better to do on a work day?!

“Uncle Dean?” Gibson sounded worried.

“Almost there, little man,” Dean reassured. He was the one who had stuffed the kid full of slushies and cotton candy, so he said he’d be the one to make sure he didn’t have any accidents or stains on his clothes.

He might live to regret that promise.

Finally they rounded a corner and Dean spotted the little peg people and an arrow towards a set of doors. The family bathroom was locked when he tried to yank it open. He grunted and bent down to set Gibson down.

“Alright men’s room, this way—- told ya we’d make it,” Dean ushered Gibson inside and followed to guard him while he did his business and make sure he washed his damn hands. They were heading to the Safari park next and he didn’t not want to worry about letting the little gremlin sit on his lap with bathroom germs all over him.

“Okay! Let’s go find Uncle Sam and your mom, huh?”

“Do we have to?” Gibson whined.

Dean chuckled. “Come on, they’re not that bad!”

“Uncle Sam keeps reading to me about the animals and Mom just wants to pose for selfies with the mama and baby animals.”

“So?! At least they like hanging out with you! Could be a lot worse,” Dean suggested, directing Gibson through the crowd with a hand between his little shoulder blades. He tried to remember if his dad had ever taken him or Sam to a zoo, but all that came to mind was his mother chaperoning a field trip to a pumpkin farm once upon a time before Bush Sr. had taken office.

The Safari Park was pretty cool. Dean got stopped by a couple of employees for selfies before they were through the line for the jeeps. But they made up for it with letting them skip to the front. There was also the few minutes he had to hold Gibson’s head away when they happened upon a rhino trying to mount a female. The thing’s dick was longer than Dean’s arm.

“It’s okay, Sammy,” Dean placated. “Anybody’s gonna have an inferiority complex compared to that. Not me, but anybody else.”

“Bite me, Dean,” Sam muttered, remembering not to swear in front of the kid.

Dean cackled as Gibson huffed in boredom.

The day was just what Dean needed after the extreme highs and lows of the weekend, relaxing with low stakes. They grabbed a late lunch at a deli down the street from the hotel and made plans for the Midway Museum the following day, after Dean’s therapy call. He wondered if you’d be able to join in on the fun. Bobby had gotten the tickets, so Dean guessed you wouldn’t have any conference calls either. Or he hoped.

Dean really didn’t know what to say to that. Bela had been prickly early on during the last afterparty, but neither you nor she had said anything that gave him any idea what was going on between you two.

And he wasn’t sure he wanted to get in the middle now.

But Bela wouldn’t have said something unless she was genuinely worried about you. Or about your friendship at least. Dean sighed and said he would tell you to call her. He just didn’t specify WHEN was all.

He got a couple of hearts and a ‘thank you’ text back.

Dean couldn’t help but feel like this was backwards. His loyalty wasn’t with Bela, especially not when it came to you versus her. And unless the next few shows bombed, he didn’t think there was any reason to keep playing pretend. He was back. The band was thriving, as the kids said, and he was completely in love with someone else.

So, yeah, Dean might check in and see if you were pissed at Bela. But he sure as hell wasn’t going to do anything more than that. Unless you needed him to.

Tagging:

@deans-spinster-witch

@mrswhozeewhatsis

@cosicas-cuquis

@fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like

@suckitands33

@ladysparkles78

@deans-baby-momma

@stoneyggirl2

@sassy-pelican

@leigh70

@globetrotter28

@winharry

@lastactiontricia

@rockhoochie

@brightlilith

@coldhearted93

@djs8891

@beautiful-places-blog

@n-o-p-e-never

Chapter 31: Ziehen

[angel-of-the-moons]

hii!!! i love ur work!!! i was just wondering if u could do a part 2 of the hobie x reader where they have no strings attached when they were both reallyyyyy horny

(if u could, could they be like uhh either reader or Hobie somehow is close to getting a relationship [or is acc just going to answer someone asking one of them out and wants to be exclusive] and is talking to the other abt it and it could change their little f buddies relationship or something maybe angsty?? maybe fluff?? or maybe like yeah no congrats lets do this one last time until you break up)

thank u v much!!!

No Strings Attached Pt. 2

Hobie x Fem!Reader

(Hobie and Reader are obviously adults in this fic.)

TW/CW: NSFW, Smut, PiV sex, counter sex, condom usage, safe sex, wee bit of angst, feelings, a whole lotta feelings(?), marijuana/pot usage (bro nobody can convince me Hobie seriously doesn't smoke it), some alcohol, bad date

MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME

A/N: Spoiler alert: Strings got attached. A bit shorter than the first chapter, but I like it like this

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You and Hobie had agreed to be "friends with benefits" on the account that the biggest rule was it wouldn't affect your friendship, that you wouldn't lose each other due to petty bullshit.

And it was a system that worked. Mostly.

Hobie couldn't deny the twinge of... of something inside him when he saw some loser bloke try to rizz you up with cheap pickup lines. He would crush it by downing a cheap shot of whatever liquor he had, and remind himself that you could do whatever--or whoever--you wanted.

In the end he never had to worry, though. Whenever you needed that "itch" scratched, you two would hook up. Most of the time in his flat, or yours, sometimes he'd park his van somewhere and you two would do it there.

One time you two were in the middle of something and some coppers started pounding on the van doors. You two were quick to make sure they knew they were interrupting something, and peel out before they asked too many questions.

Man, the look on their faces when you swung the door open while only dressed in your panties and one of Hobie's almost-too-tight tank tops was priceless...

You two were hooking up more and more often, the relief and euphoria of just having rounds of backbreaking sex was almost enough to distract you from everything that occurred during the day.

Almost.

Right now you were bent over your kitchen counter, Hobie's long, nimble hands gripping your hips as though his life depending upon it as he stuffed his cock into you at an earth-shattering pace.

"Gh--fuck." You groaned, wiping the drool from the corner of your mouth. "God--fucking--damn it." You bite out after each punishing thrust, stuffing you full in a way that only he has been able to manage this far.

"Ey? What's what?" Hobie chuckled breathlessly as his hips smack into your ass, sending the skin ripping as he fucked into you. "Got somethin' t' say, luv?"

The moment he angled his hips at just the right angle, your body went rigid, your gummy walls crushing down around him as you came around his cock, squeezing him tight as he kept pushing and pulling into your hot cunt.

You buried your face in your arms as they folded on the counter, whimpering as Hobie gritted his teeth and pounded into you at a less coordinated, frantic pace, instead focusing on his own release and need to cum, now.

God damn was Hobie a good lay. He was probably one of the better sexual partners you've ever had, always making sure you cum before he does, taking the time to learn what makes you tick; taking you apart with every swipe and stroke of his fingers and cock.

You wondered how in the fuck Hobie hadn't gotten a girlfriend. Had half the women in the city known how endowed and how well-versed he was in sex, he'd had every eligible bachelorette (and not) breaking down his door to have a chance for a romp in the sheets with him.

You felt Hobie slam up into you in a way that knocked air from your lungs in a choking gasp, eyes rolling back as you felt the condom swell with his cum as he fucked you through his high.

"Fuckin' shit." You sigh, laughing softly as you relax as the last few waves of his orgasm ebbed.

"Mmm... Now what were you sayin' earlier?" Hobie laughed, swatting your ass playfully.

"Ugh. Don't do that!" You laugh at him over your shoulder.

"Mmm, fine fine." He said, cock still sheathed inside you as he put his hands up dismissively. "Now what is it?"

"Oh, right. I have a date tonight."

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You'd gotten all dolled up, your best dress, nice comfy heels, makeup... The works.

Your dress was a deem emerald green plunge, v-neck that revealed the right amount of cleavage; the hem of the dress ended just above your knees, a slit cut up to mid-thigh, revealing the sheer stockings you wore that hugged your thigh.

You had been asked out by a man who looked far too out of his element in the punk pub you both met in, but he seemed charming and relatively well-mannered. Better than half the drunk idiots who hit on you when you went out.

And being brought to a four-star restaurant? Yeah, you were an idiot to say no to that. You weren't shallow, but hey, you've never gone anywhere this fancy before.

And he seemed nice, you really hoped that maybe, just maybe, you could have a sincere relationship with him. Like, as in, keys to the flat, boyfriend material kind of relationship.

Yeah. You were wrong.

An hour into the date and you were tempted to slip an SOS to the waiter to distract him long enough for you to slip away from Garrett (your date).

He was arrogant, a snobbish prude who, upon inspecting your dress, crinkled his nose and said he expected someone as "refined" as you to dress more conservatively. He also said that women should not be involved with such "heavy" music such as punk, rock, or metal; which happened to be some of your favorite genres.

Garrett had also admitted that the last woman he was with wasn't forthright about her previous "dalliances" in bed. That she was "used goods" and couldn't "satisfy his needs" in a way that a woman lacking would be able to do.

Translation: he was so shit in bed he wanted a woman who had no experience to compare his miserable excuse of a forty-second orgasm, bean dick to.

A misogynistic prick who had a virgin fetish.

Yeahhhh... No.

You finally got sick of it, standing up and splashing your chocolate martini all down his expensive suit, the brown liquid staining the white of his button-up.

"Blood hell, are you insane--?!" Garret spat at you, standing up to glare at you.

"I'm fucking my best friend." You say, flipping him the bird after slapping a wad of notes on the table for the poor wait staff. "So you can take your weak ass dick and fetishes to some club where women can point and laugh at you, since you think women who have "given themselves" to men before you are disgusting."

Your heels clicked as you spoke over your shoulder, "And you can lose my number."

The whole restaurant went quiet, aghast and amazed, breaking out into excitable murmurs about the scene that unfolded.

The staff gossiped about it for days.

🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸

"Bloody hell!" Hobie laughed as he slapped his knee as you retold the story. "Wish I coulda seen that bloke's face!"

"Ugh, I was so close to skewering his eye with a champagne flute." You sigh, taking a drag of the joint in-between your lips, puffing the smoke out of your nose with practiced ease.

"Ah, if ya did that I'd have to bust you free from the goddamn cops." Hobie snorted derisively as you passed him the joint.

"My hero!" You say, clasping your hand under your chin and batting your eyelashes theatrically.

Hobie laughed, choking on the smoke as he puffed the joint. "You li'le shit! Don't make me laugh while I'm smoking!"

You giggle and kick your feet at him as his spindly hand swats at you.

Once your laughter dies down, you lay your legs across his lap, and you both fall into a comfortable silence, smoking and drinking as you watch the television.

His thumb caresses soothing circles into your ankles, your heels long discarded and tossed by his door.

Surprisingly, to his credit... Hobie didn't slide his hand up your thigh and under your dress like you anticipated he'd do. He kept his hands low, massaging you.

And you stayed like that, for almost two hours until he spoke up as the credits began to roll, your name tumbling out of his lips awkwardly.

"Yeah?" You say, stretching and arching your back as you reclined on the couch.

"Shoot me if this is crazy." Hobie said, rubbing the back of his neck, looking somewhere else in the flat.

You blinked at him, sitting up like someone dumped a bucket of ice water on you.

Was Hobie Brown nervous?

"I know you said when we started this you didn't want anything serious..."

"Hobie...."

He held his hands up to stop you so he could continue, "But hear me out. We get along great, we've got a shitton of great chemistry. You're funny as shit, and a badass..."

You lean forward, tucking your knees underneath you.

"You're fuckin' smart as hell, got no business bein' around me, but--"

"Hobie!" You snap, leaning into his face.

His eyes go wide and lock with yours, his thick, full lips opening and closing as he struggles to find the words to speak.

"Are you asking me to be your girlfriend?"

He awkwardly looked to the side, and you gripped his jaw with your hand, jerking his face to look at yours once more.

"Hobie. Again. Are you ask--"

"Yes."

You weren't sure what knocked you off more, the fact he interrupted you with such a matter-of-fact answer, or the fact you knew he was serious. And Hobie was rarely serious about much in his life.

But this?

You lean back, blinking at him, looking at your hands as you dropped them in your lap.

The seconds tick by at an agonizingly slow pace as you carefully make your decisions, pick your words like a farmer selects the best, ripest crop from the vine.

But at the same time... Maybe the decision had been made for the two of you all along?

A grin slowly creeps up your face and you look back at him. "Fuck it. Why not?"

What was it Miguel said? Canon events, and all that?

[yujeong]

Favourite Underrated Ship? Simple answer: Every single Pete rarepair! -> PorschePete? Iconic! Brilliant! Phenomenal! Most people love "best friends who kiss", I love "secret third thing". However one enjoys them, though, they're delicious to consume😌 (You might think it's not an underrated ship, but I'd like to inform you that it has, in fact, less than 100 fics on Ao3, so it very much is in my book. I'm happy to have contributed to it by posting two of them, but I'd love it if there were more. Hopefully, I'll get inspired anew one day.) -> KinnPete? Oh please, the power dynamics make me giggle like a 10 year old girl playing with Barbie dolls. Such glorious toxicity, such perfect ways Kinn could use and abuse Pete to his benefit, either with or without knowing he's doing it. You can do so much with them, either pre, during or post canon and I get so excited thinking about it. (This one has less than 50(!) fics posted, so I'm super thankful to the few authors who have gifted me some amazing works. Sharing my personal favourite because it deserves to be cherished 🥹) -> ArmPete? Do I even need to sell this one? It can do fluff, it can do angst, it can do smut, it can do it all. My personal favourite flavour of it is Arm having unrequited feelings for Pete because it's just so deliciously angsty 😇 I love me some pain, I can't help it. (This one doesn't have any fics to its name, besides one in Chinese. I'm devastated. I did personally have an idea for a multi-chaptered fic with 3k words already written, but if I manage to focus on it properly one day, it'll end up being a simple one-shot.) -> KimPete? Oh, you mean the ship I got so obsessed over I wrote 25k words of them platonically bonding, while having Kim think to himself more than once how pretty Pete is? You mean the ship that shares so many similarities with VegasPete, while still having its own identity based on the differences between Kim and Vegas? You mean the love of my life? (Again, fics for this one are almost non-existent, which is a shame, but understandable. One day, I'll manage to enrich the tag. One day.) -> TankhunPete? Take KinnPete's fucked up power imbalance and twist it in a more peculiar direction. What you get is this ship, which makes me so uncomfortable but so, so intrigued. (Incredibly underrated with how few fics it has, but a special thanks to this one for altering my brain chemistry when I first read it.) -> BigPete? Rivals who might engage in hate sex from time to time? Pals who share the same fate and understand it and bond over it? Pick your poison and roll with it, because it's delicious either way. I'm personally team "They hate each other" because it's more fun that way 😉 (Almost nothing here again, which is a shame, but again understandable. I had forgotten they shared 2 lines of dialogue together in the show, I deadass thought they never talked to each other, which was great for me lol. Here's one fic written by the same person who wrote the KinnPete one, in case you'd like something cool to read.) -> TayPete? This one's for pure aesthetic reasons because have you seen Tay, have you seen Tay at the auction, have you imagined Pete and Tay fucking at the auction, because I surely have 🙂 It's such a gorgeous image, I lose focus for a hot minute when it comes to me. (This one's tricky, because most people write Vegas/Pete/Tay, which is a glorious choice and I support it, and my talented friend is writing a very good VPT fic, but I'd love it if there were more fics that focus on these two only. They're too powerful, I can't get enough.) I think those are all the ones I'm personally obsessed with. All I have to say is, Pete deserves all the beautiful men and what they'd like to do with him ❤️

[tiniest-hands-in-all-the-land]

do u have any tvdint fic reccs? <- has been combing through the tvdint ao3 tag several times

If you've been through the AO3 tags, then chances are you've read most of my reccs, but i'll list em anyway as well as the few i've read through on Pixiv :0

Please keep in mind that you should always read through the tags and warnings of these fics (and ANY fic) before proceeding. I tend to like darker/angsty storylines, so just be aware. Most of these reccs are SFW, but there are a couple that dip into NSFW territory.

Besides grouping them from English AO3 fics, Non-English AO3 fics, and Pixiv fics, there is no order to this list

"I'm Not Going Anywhere" by AruiI: Ronaldo gets critically injured during a hunt. Draluc does his best to keep him alive until he can get to a hospital, and is forced to realize just how scared he is to potentially lose him

Stages of Grief by WyvernQuill: Draluc decides to prove to his friends that Ronaldo doesn't care about him, and plays a prank where he seems to have permanently died. Author wrote this fic before discovering that Chapter 47 was a thing that existed, but is a lovely tragic take on the Draluc permadeath concept

Underground by MerrilyAround: Ronaldo and John return to their apartment to find Draluc and his coffin mysteriously missing. Meanwhile, a very vocal anti-vampire group are being very cryptic about what could have possibly happened to him

Don't Lie to Me by AruiI: Draluc gets sick and tries his damnedest to hide it, at the detriment of his own health. Needless to say, Ronaldo finds out, and does his best to take care of him, while having no idea what he's doing

The Invicible's Opponent by tori1116: Ronaldo ends up with a broken arm after a job, and realizes he's gonna have a lot of trouble bathing with one working arm. Draluc offers to help. This is a Chinese fic, but the story is rewritten in English in the second chapter. NSFW warning. Some absolutely killer characterization in this one, chef's kiss

I'm going back to 505 by Insane_fangurL: Ronaldo offhandedly wishes that Draluc would stay dead. Little does he know that someone who is very willing to make that happen was listening

Something Bothered. by CowboyAdvice: Draluc's cousin is getting married, and Draluc and Ronaldo are invited to the wedding. Draluc is less than thrilled for reasons he won't delve into, and the arrangements for their involvement are a little eyebrow-raising. NSFW warning

you're gonna carry that weight by notreally: Ronaldo gets kidnapped by a vampire with a grudge. He has to resist and fight tooth and nail if he wants to survive. Love this one purely cuz it showcases Ronaldo's ability to truly fight that we rarely ever get to see in canon lol

Case #94 by Moana230: A reimagining of Chapter 1 of the manga. Ronaldo is a private investigator hired by a woman to figure out where her kid keeps sneaking off to. This leads him to a decrepit castle with lots of still-active booby traps and a mysterious voice leading him around

The Inverse Relationship between a Gentleman and a Contradiction by ferret: A lovely Inverse!AU story. Draluc dwells on this strange, overly-flowery hunter who has taken a fancy to him, and realizes a lot of their sweet, innocent words don't line up with the rest of them

thinner than water (thicker than blood) by awesomecookies: A wonderful take on Hiyoshi's earlier years. A story of a kid who was thrown into adulthood too early, and didn't want to let go of that freedom that came with being young, even when it came at the detriment of neglecting his responsibilities with his little brother and sister

And I Taste Milk (Please, Please Runaway) by awesomecookies: A Coffeeshop!AU fic. Ronaldo works at a crappy coffeeshop and has begrudgingly taken a fascination with the snarky, chronically ill man who looks a little too much like a vampire for comfort and his two adorable kids. (Sidenote i think this is genuinely the first coffeeshop au i've ever read f;aoiefna)

Okay from here on out, the fics are not written in English and don't have any official translations. I shucked them through a translator, and they read mostly coherently, and these are my favorite ones that i've found

月白 by overdriveojoj: Draluc has a secret that he's never told anyone, not even John: when he dies, he can see the auras of everyone around him. He becomes infatuated with observing the differences between them, and becomes especially entranced with Ronaldo's moon-white aura

昼夜交替 by Qi_U: A collection of oneshots, ranging in tone and humor. My personal favorite is chapter 2, where Draluc decides to move away from Shinyoko and takes many trips down memory lane as he packs his things

【羅納德拉】A Thousand Years by SSilverse: A short fic Ronaldo and Draluc have a discussion about vampire and human romances, and why they typically don't work out.

his little color game by rodionychh: Draluc muses about all his favorite colors, and shockingly realizes that all of his favorites tie into Ronaldo in some way

【羅納德拉】旅行 by leci1028: Ronaldo decides that he wants to escape his current life and go on a roadtrip with Draluc and John with no real destination or ending; he and Draluc discuss the theoreticals of how it would all work out. I will be honest: this one guts me every time

I bet on losing dogs by a_ailema: After another stressful deadline crunch, Ronaldo realizes just how much Draluc means to him and how much he's improved his life. Draluc realizes the same about Ronaldo. A wonderful character study

德拉羅納短篇 by tori1116: Another collection of one shots. Highly recommend chapter 5, where Delta!Ronaldo actually succeeds in dying, and meets Canon!Draluc in the death realm. Draluc recounts just how he got there to satiate Ronaldo's curiosity and make him feel better. NSFW warning for some chapters iirc (admittedly it's been a while since I've read this one)

These last ones are on Pixiv. I don't find Pixiv's filtering system nearly as intuitive as AO3's, so most of these fics are ones i've read off of others' recommendations

退治人と吸血鬼の非公開事件 by みる: Ronaldo is visited by a mysterious lady who tells him that in 3 days, she will die. Investigating leads him and Draluc down a rabbit hole of experimentation, disease, and a strange murder mystery

ワルツはもう踊れない(ロナドラ)【5/4再版します】 by 46/shiro: After solving a strange case where a vampire killed her lover and drained his body of blood, Ronaldo realizes that he can't remember too many of the details surrounding the case. Something is up with his shooting hand, and Draluc is looking for strange accommodations that he's never requested before

深海で息をする by 土鳩: Draluc has fallen into the sea, and his ashes are scattered in the waves. Ronaldo has spent years and years trying to collect his ashes and bring him back. This story is written in a mob character's perspective

Con Fuoco by tomioka: Ronaldo confesses his feelings for Draluc, and the vampire doesn't respond. Soon after, something is awoken in Draluc that makes everything he touches burn.

悪夢を憐れむ歌 by カルノ: Ronaldo goes to the library one night and finds an odd book. On his way home after closing time, he spots Draluc in the rain being attacked by an obsessed fan, and goes to intervene. But not everything is as it seems.

Aaaanndd I think i'm gonna cut it off here for now. My brain is dead fa;oewfinae I have a lot more faves than what's on this list, but some of them are a little too my tastes to really share, some of them are a little to scandalous to share, and some of them are just "I remember liking this one but for the life of me i can't remember what it was about and i don't have the time to reread atm"

But hopefully this helped at least a little! This fandom is very small, but the fics are wonderful ^^

[thiswaycomessomethingwicked]

I LOVE YOUR WORKS SO MUCH ITS INSANE RAHHH… where does one find your ‘a wolf in chase’ fic??

aww thank you! that's so kind of you to say!

I took Wolf in Chase and Pale Before the Fall down because for a time there was an iteration of them (very, very different I will say) being shopped to publishers but that is now on the back burner.

Please find the Woodford Series PDFs below (I also included the few on AO3 so you have a sense of the proper order of things):

Pale Before the Fall

Pairing: Napoleon/Wellington; Historical pairings (e.g., Wellesley/Kitty, past Napoleon/Josephine etc.) Rating: T to M(ish) Summary: After Waterloo, through a cunning lawyer and some finagling, Bonaparte manages to end up in England instead of St Helena for his final exile. Of course things don't stay quiet. There's an old murder. A stodgy Duke newly returned from France. A disintegrating marriage. And a couple of ghosts to top it all off. (and full of pretentious chapter titles and what not) Published: 2013-09-27

A Wolf in Chase

Pairing: Napoleon/Wellington; Historical pairings Rating: T to M(ish) Summary: Sequel to "Pale Before the Fall" though I don't think it's too much a necessity to have read the first one. A continuation of something like a friendship. If one may be so liberal as to call it that. Mostly, there are mysteries and a bored (former) emperor who has nothing better to do than drag a certain duke along on his adventures. Published: 2015-07-07

An argument for the wise use of blankets, or, Napoleon dislikes Canova's interpretation of him as Peacemaker (AO3)*

Pairing: Napoleon/Wellington; Historical pairings Rating: G Summary: For an anon on tumblr who requested the following: I have only one Napollington suggestion and it is anything including Napoleon being ridiculously angry about Arthur having that naked Napoleon statue in his house. Published: 2019

*I wrote a second, newer version of this fic at the request of someone on here. So that version is also on AO3 as A Kindness Interrupted. Same premise, a little more angsty. Published: 2024

Unsent Letters**

Pairing: Napoleon/Wellington; Historical pairings Rating: T(ish) Summary A child has gone missing out in the countryside. Wellington investigates. Napoleon is pissed that he's not invited along for the ride. It is a series of letters between them as shit gets weird. Published: 2018? I think?

**Note: Takes place ostensibly in the same universe as Pale and Wolf except that I also borrowed heavily from the rewrite that was being shopped around. So some characters who died in the OG are alive in this version. Treat it as an au of an au. I'll note that this is probably my favourite of the lot. Key differences: Georgiana Preston is alive, it's someone from her past who was murdered. Napoleon ended up half-dead on a river bank due to a fairy king trying to slice him open. Mary did some weird fucked up magic to heal him. Is he now like...weirdly sewn into the land? Maybe. Don't worry about it.

Wrack and Ruin (on AO3)

Pairing: Napoleon/Wellington; Historical pairings Rating: T(ish) Summary A letter from Joseph Bonaparte relating to the oft' cited and mysterious Jersey Devil brings Napoleon and an always less-than-amused Wellesley to New Jersey. Published: 2017

Usual disclaimer that these are quite old and absolutely not up to snuff compared to my current writing (I cannot emphasize this enough). But if you're interested, feel free to dive in.

[barclaysangel]

A Siren’s Embrace; Chapter 5: Connection of the Sea

Here's chapter 5, y'all! Aaaand the last chapter for now because I haven't finished chapter 6. My brain is all over the place, doing homework, starting my masters program in less than 3 weeks, AND got a new sapphic story idea that involves witches. So...yeah. I'm a mess. Buuuuut, hopefully you guys like this chapter. It's more angsty than the other chapters and once again, I projected so much of myself and my family life into Nika and her family. So things that are said near the end are things that happened in my real life. It's fine, I'll live. But please comment, comments make me feel happy and I hope to one day get back into this story because I do have ideas for further chapters, I just can't figure out a proper ending. I still hope y'all like this story though.

Thank you and enjoy :)

Word count: 2K

Tags: @streets-in-paradise @king-of-wicked

Nika’s world was falling apart. 

At least that’s what it felt like to her. 

Her world felt like it was slowly dissipating, crumbling, going to turn to dust and vanish at any given moment. She knew her parents loved her, wanted the best for her and all. But if she had to hear about how she needed to get her shit together and figure out what she wanted to do in life one more time, she’s going to explode. 

Whether that be in rage or depression was unclear and would end up being a surprise to Nika and everyone around her. 

She knew she should figure out what the hell she wanted to do. But for fuck’s sake, she just graduated high school. Nika’s going to a community college close by to figure out what she wanted to major in, what she felt connected to because high school certainly didn’t create any connections. But she knows her father would prefer it if she figured it out now and went straight into a university. 

But…she couldn’t. Nika didn’t know what she wanted to do yet, she was barely 18 years old. She just needed some time to figure it out before condemning herself to a path where she would feel complacent or self-loathing. 

Is that really too much to ask? 

“Nika?” Pearl said her name, snapping the human out of her thoughts, a small look of concern in her sea green eyes. “Okay? You are quiet. Sad. Why are you quiet and sad?” 

Nika put on a smile and shook her head. “Sorry, I’m just distracted. I’m okay, you don’t need to worry. I’m not sad.” 

“Yes you are,” Pearl replied quickly as she stared so deeply at Nika, “I can feel it. Your sadness. It is strong. I feel your sadness.”

Is it possible for mermaids to just feel what you’re feeling? She wondered silently. Maybe. There was still so much that Nika didn’t know about humans yet, she wouldn’t entirely be surprised. Sometimes it felt like Pearl was staring so deep into the human’s soul, discovering all of her deepest and darkest secrets. 

It must be an effect that the mermaid has on her, that’s all. 

Nika didn’t say anything for a moment, her mouth opening and then closing before just shaking her head as she looked away. “I’ll be okay. Really. It’s…hard to explain anyway, you really don’t need to worry about it.” 

“I worry,” Pearl said, once again without any hesitation, “you are sad. You are in pain. In here,” She pressed a wet finger to Nika’s chest, right where her heart is, “and in here.” Her finger moved to the center of the human’s forehead. 

She didn’t really know what to say at first, looking away again until the mermaid rested her hand on her shoulder. “Speak to me…please?” 

Something about Pearl was truly persuasive, even when there was no siren song used. There was something gentle about her touch, the look in her eyes, that felt like maybe, just maybe, she could understand. 

“It’s…hard. To talk about. To explain. No one else really understands except my friends but…it’s not fair to burden them with these problems. My parents…they’re tough. Sometimes too tough. I’m their only child and they want the best for me but…it’s too much. It feels like I can’t breathe around them. It…it feels like I’m drowning.” 

Pearl tilted her head slightly. “You are not drowning. I saved you.”

Nika couldn’t help but to smile a little, despite how she was feeling at the moment. “Not drowning literally. Just…feeling. In here and here,” she pointed to her own chest and head, “it feels like I’m drowning and I can’t breathe. It’s too much and they just don’t get it. They don’t see it. I…I don’t think they ever will. I just…I feel so alone here…” 

The human didn’t even know why she was unloading like this in front of Pearl. The mermaid would truly never understand those pressures and there was nothing that could be done. Nothing would change, Nika had accepted it a long time ago. Didn’t make it hurt any less, but it was something she just needed to get over. 

Yet here Pearl was, frowning, looking as if she was upset on Nika’s behalf. Like she had been the one who was wronged. Finally, the mermaid spoke, “I have a gift for you. Stay, please?” The human barely had time to nod before Pearl flung herself into the ocean. 

Maybe you freaked her out. Congrats, stupid, you weirded out a mermaid with your pathetic family issues. She thought to herself and she ran both of her hands over her face and up through her hair, trying to block out the pessimistic voice. 

Nika took a few deep breaths to push back the tears that were threatening to expose themselves in her eyes before the green-eyed mermaid came back, her blue tail swishing in the water, and holding out a rather large conch shell to the human. 

This wasn’t Pearl’s first gift of seashells at all. She had given her many that now reside in Nika’s room, all of which she had claimed to her parents that she found from her recent trips to the beach. But this was certainly the largest one, barely fitting in both of the mermaid’s hands. 

Huh…receiving gifts must be Pearl’s love language.

“Oh, Pearl…it’s beautiful,” Nika said softly before carefully taking the conch shell from her, holding it in her own hands, “you didn’t need to give this to me.”

“I did.” Pearl replied before she pulled herself onto the rock, sitting right beside the human with their shoulders now touching. “Shell is strong. Shiny. Beautiful. You are strong. Shiny. Beautiful. You are my seashell.”

Nika wasn’t quite sure what Pearl meant by the last part, but either way, it made her heart flutter from the compliments. She was sure that this was the mermaid’s way to try and cheer her up and in a way, it worked. 

She really did appreciate the sentiment, even if it was a bit out of the ordinary. 

Oh, what the hell, she was friends with a fucking mermaid. It’s been out of the ordinary for a long time. 

“Thank you. Really. I…I appreciate it,” Nika said with a soft smile as she held the conch close to her, “I’m at my happiest whenever I see you. You just…make me feel better.” 

Her confession caused Pearl to smile more and got a certain glint in her eyes, as if she had decided on something. “I will see you more. I will make you happy.” 

The human didn’t have time to question her on that before she realized how late it was and that she needed to go home soon, promising Pearl that she would try and see her again tomorrow. 

Nika almost wished that she hadn’t gone home when she did arrive, because the questions on her whereabouts were thrown again. 

“I went to the beach. I wanted to get some fresh air, it’s gonna be weird not going to school for a while.” She threw out her excuse to them, thankful that having overprotective parents caused her to be pretty decent when it came to lying. 

“You’ve been going out to the beach so often, Annika” Her mother started to tell her, “you need to be more careful. Maybe you should be staying inside some more, especially with what happened to Erickson recently.” 

Nika knew exactly what her mother was referring to. Erickson was an old and irritating man, someone who often spent his time harassing preteen girls and throwing his beer bottles or other garbage into the ocean. Nika would clean up after him whenever she saw his trash and throw them away properly. She was never fond of him but since they lived close by, she just tried to steer clear from him and pay him no mind. 

It would be a lot easier now since Erickson’s body was found just a couple of days ago on the shores of the beach. Well, rather what was left of him. From what Nika had heard, he had been mauled apart. She had to sneak around to the other side of the beach to see Pearl because of all the caution tape around and trying to investigate the scene. 

“Erickson was a drunk who probably decided to go swimming in the middle of the ocean and got attacked by a shark. Or maybe some other wild animal, who knows,” She told both of her parents with a nonchalant look on her face, “I’m very careful whenever I go, okay? I don’t go too far into the ocean when I go surfing or swimming. Really, I’m not going to die.”

Let’s just forget about the part where you did drown when you went surfing and only survived because of a mermaid, they certainly didn’t need to know about that.

“That doesn’t matter, you need to be more careful. I don’t even know what you do at the beach, you should be doing more exercise so you can lose weight.” Her father told her suddenly, even pointedly staring at her stomach. 

If Nika could scream from the top of her lungs without facing any repercussions, she absolutely would at that very moment. 

If she had a dollar for every fucking time her father or both her parents mentioned her weight in a negative manner, she would’ve skipped town, left Neptune Bay in the rearview mirror, because she’d be a fucking billionare. 

Nika wasn’t skinny. If she thought hard about it, she hadn’t been skinny since she was in kindergarten. She was chubby but she tried to not let it bother her. She tried to own up to her curves and find the beauty within herself, the beauty that Jay and Lucy point out all the time. 

But then her parents’ open their mouths with their opinions and all that self-confidence goes straight down the drain. 

Don’t you see what you’re fucking doing to me? You’re killing me. You’re. Fucking. Killing. Me. I want to hurt myself because of you, don’t you understand that? Just fucking look at me and understand that you make me hate myself!

Despite her boiling emotions, Nika didn’t say a word. She forced a smile like she always did, pretending to let her father’s comments roll down her back, and walked into her room. 

Her self-hatred bubbled inside of her, wanting so badly to cry. To hurt herself. Scratch and punch her stomach like she sometimes did when the words became too much. But this time, Nika held it in. She pulled the conch shell from her bag, holding it close to her chest as if it was a teddy bear, and rocked herself slightly as she sat on her bed. 

Strong. Shiny. Beautiful. That’s what Pearl said I am. Strong. Shiny. Beautiful. Maybe she sees something in me that no one else has seen before and we’ve only known each other for a few weeks. To her, I’m strong and shiny and beautiful. Pearl makes me feel happy and special. 

Nika tried to hang onto those words that the mermaid said to her. She ate less than usual for dinner and was more quiet, faking laughs and conversations to avoid suspicion, but that was all. Just enough for her parents to not get on her case again. 

She kept it all inside until she went to bed, clutching onto her precious pearl necklace and cried her heart out. Nika let her tears soak her pillow, fully prepared to cry herself to sleep like she’s done plenty of times before. 

Although she couldn’t quite fall asleep. She woke up multiple times throughout the knife, experiencing random pains throughout her body, most prominent in the lower half. Nika’s legs twitched against her will, feeling like the inside was twisting and bending. It was worse than the typical soreness she’d feel when her father forced her to go hike with him. 

She didn’t know what the hell was going on. 

Maybe she was experiencing some psychosomatic symptoms of anxiety again, but they were surely different this time. 

Eventually, exhaustion took over and Nika finally fell asleep, hoping for a better day tomorrow. 

[lanitalay]

Among Flames and Starlight Chapter 10

a/n: here it is!!! thank you for being patient! this is another fun one. Hold it tight because chapter 11 will be Angsty.

Warnings: none

Word count: 2.5k

Other Chapters

After days, the rain eventually cleared up. The ground was safe for riding and Irene spent most of her time in the studio. In only a few short days the recital would take place. She convinced Lucien to build a small stage for the barn. Eris helped too. She wasn’t used to his presence so she became hyper aware of everything he did. Whenever he was around, Lucien told Jesminda it was better if she stayed away.

Irene questioned his decision and during one of their rides he explained “it’s not that I don’t trust Eris. I actually trust him the most out of all of my brothers. But Jesminda is a villager and if Beron found out-” 

“Would Eris tell him?” 

“He wouldn’t say anything, but Beron has ways of making us talk. So the less he knows the better.”

“Did I do wrong in telling him about the studio?”

“That's different, you are not a villager.”

“But my students are and so are their parents.” 

They rode in silence for a few minutes until Lucien figured out what to say next. “Eris knows how to deal with Beron, he wouldn’t do anything that put so many fae at risk.” 

“But Beron forced him to marry me, he must not be that good at dealing with him.” 

They didn’t speak the rest of the ride. 

Eris dreaded these meetings. Once, every thirty days, he would have to enter his father’s study and give reports. Usually, Beron asked about the tributes collected from the villages, any news from the emissaries he kept in contact with, Lucien and Mora. Recently, he began asking about Irene and her whereabouts. “Where does she ride off to? When can I expect an heir? Is she causing trouble?” None, he knew that none of those questions were to be taken at face value. He was rubbing salt in the wound. Reminding him what happened the last time he crossed his High Lord. Eris kept his answers ambiguous. “Around the house grounds. When the Mother and the Gods choose to bless us. No.” 

He would never, in a million years, think to tell him how a tentative... something bloomed between them. How, he didn’t know exactly when, he stopped avoiding her. How she was doing more for the court than any of them had done in decades. Because Irene was not meant as a companion or an asset. Her sole purpose in Autumn was to remind Eris who was in charge. 

The lordling did not want to think of what would happen if Beron felt she no longer served that purpose. 

After giving the regular answers and finishing the reports, Eris decided he would stay away from her for a while. No willing to tempt the fates. 

He went about his usual business. Collecting tributes, dealing with confidential correspondence and keeping Lucien out of Beron’s grasp. When he had a respite, he would seclude himself in the cottage he set aside for the hounds, not wanting to risk the library. But reading was difficult with the dogs running around and interrupting any level of concentration Eris might have achieved. 

He didn’t like this. All his life had been spent in burdened solitude and he ached for… he did not know what exactly he ached for. Only that his heart felt hollow.

“I know he’s your husband but I’m glad he backed off, I missed these little critters way too much.” Jesminda laughed as she watched the youngest dancers rehearse in woodland creature costumes. There were two squirrels, three rabbits, four foxes and one moose who led the dance. 

Irene’s first instinct was to correct her friend. She wanted to say “he’s not really my husband Jes, he’s just the male I was forced to marry.” But they were not alone and anything she said would be repeated by her students, and their families, so she offered a diplomatic answer. “He helped with the stage and the floors and windows. Did you notice? No more splinters.” 

“The floors are nice, and the stage turned out great. Shame we can’t tell more people about the recital.”

“It is.” When the rehearsal was over Irene and Jesminda began decorating the stage. They were putting up a curtain that Mora made with a fine red velvet fabric and embroidered with gold thread. “It looks like flames if the light catches it just right,” the lady explained to Irene when she first saw it. It was a beautiful work clearly made by hands who had perfected the craft for centuries. Irene thought it looked out of place in the shabby barn. 

Then the females began creating the rudimentary set design. They cut branches from nearby trees and created a make-shift forest inside the studio. It would be a pain to clean up later. 

The night before the recital, Irene passed out in the studio. She told Lucien to take Jesminda to her house while she finished some last minute details. The curtains needed to be pleated just right, the costumes had to be labeled, the floor had to be swept and mopped, the chairs needed to be set up, the piano needed to be moved and the list seemed to go on forever. Lucien and Jesminda helped her until the sun went down and they were hungry and cranky. 

“You two go eat, I’ll stay and finish up.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes! You’ve been complaining non-stop and I need to focus.” 

The couple winnowed away and Lucien told Irene he would be back for her.

Irene had no desire in riding in the dark and she figured she would be back in the studio as soon as the sun came up so when it was well past midnight and Lucien did not show up, she took her cloak and threw it on some hay left behind in one of the storage compartments and willed herself to rest for a while. 

“Irene?” 

The witchling shot awake at the sound of the familiar voice. Her heart thundered in her chest and she clutched her throat as a sharp gasp escaped her. 

“Holy gods!” Eris stood by her feet, eyebrows lifted in slight worry. 

“It's only me.” 

“You scared the daylights out of me.” 

“Let 's go.” 

“What?” 

“I’m taking you back to the house.” 

Irene began to stand up and put on her cloak. “Where’s Lucien?”

“He’s at the house.” 

“He forgot me, didn’t he?” 

“Yes.” Irene groans and holds out a hand so Eris can winnow them away. But he walks away, towards the stage. “It came together nicely.”

She follows him “it really did, the kids are very excited. Are you coming?” She regretted the question the second it slipped out. He shouldn’t come. Not with Jesminda also being there. 

Thankfully, he shook his head “I have to go to the Spring Court.” 

She stiffened, “why?”

“Now that Tamlin is High Lord it’s important to establish if he’ll be a… nuisance.” 

“I see.” They stood like that for a moment, staring at the stage. Eris thought of all he wanted to do for his court. He thought of how the last centuries of his life had been spent in a never ending pursuit of survival. Doing everything he could to keep his mother and brothers safe, to keep himself together so the house doesn’t succumb to Beron’s fist. 

“Irene?” 

“Hm?” 

“I’d like to build a better court.”

“Oh, well alrigh-”

“I want to do it with you.” 

“What?’

He turned to face her. Irene noticed his shoulders were tense. His hands were tightly clasped at his back. “I have been thinking about our predicament and have come to the conclusion that we want similar things.” 

“And what do you think I want?” 

“Independence, safety, to belong. We can work together.”

“In what way?”

“You’ll be the visionary and I’ll take over the logistics.” 

“Because I can’t figure out logistics?”

He rolled his eyes. “Because I would have never thought to turn an abandoned barn into a studio, because you come from a place that has life and culture and community.” 

“Where does that leave Beron?” 

He doesn’t answer. 

“And your brothers?” 

Nothing. 

“Eris, this is- if anyone hears us we’re dead, you know that.” 

He closes the distance between them, so close that if Irene were to take a deep breath her chest would graze his. “No one else is here.”

“Is that supposed to be reassuring?” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“Nothing.” Her words are knives and her stillness a slashing. He knew what she meant. He was still the monster in her story. The horrendous captor. And he understood why. He, more than anyone else, knew what she was feeling and thinking because he had thought and felt the same until recently. Yet, there was hurt coursing through his veins. He couldn’t help himself. The day had been long and arduous. Filled with meetings that dredged on and on. Beron was acting up again, how he got when things were quiet and he could see an opening to move pawns in his favor. Lucien was gone most days and Mora was worried. Eris was worried too. The world was collapsing his lungs and Irene, unwittingly, sat atop it.

So Eris, stoic Eris crumbled in front of the flame embroidered curtains. “Is being married to me really that bad?” 

Irene was confused by the change in his energy. One second he was fine, if a bit tired and the next he had sunken. Eyes glistening with an ache she was familiar with. “What? Eris-”

“I know we got off on the wrong foot but I’ve given you space and I never question how you spend your time-”

“Where is all of this coming from?”

It was like he caught himself slipping. He straightened away from her and regained his composure. “Just consider what I said.” Then he stretched a hand and waited for her to grab it so he could winnow and call an end to the day. But Irene crossed her arms instead. 

“Did something happen that I should know about?” 

He sagged, the day dragged on. 

“No, everything is fine. Let 's go.” 

“Then why are you acting so strange? You’ve been weird for weeks.”

“I’ve only been nice to you-”

“Exactly!” 

“Irene.”

“Just tell me.” 

“I don’t want to fight.”

“Tell me.”

“No, you’re right. Working together would imply too much risk. Best we keep our distance.” 

Something clicked for Irene. “I- you haven’t been bad. I didn’t mean to insinuate that.”

“Just forget it and let's go, please.” Something strained in her heart. He was being vulnerable. 

“I think this court could become great, in the right hands.” Eris didn’t respond. “I don’t know what you are planning and I think it's best if you spare me the details but I’ll help you make Autumn better.” 

“Do you really believe it could get better?” Now it was Irene that stepped forward, a gentle hand landed on his bicep then an encouraging squeeze. 

“With all my heart.” That was his undoing, the unraveling of his paper thin mask. Irene grunted when Eris engulfed her in a crushing hug. He was everywhere. Pressing against her chest, filling up her nostrils, clouding her sight, breathing raggedly. Eris knew what this moment meant.

In his arms he held the future, bright and beautiful. 

“Alright kids let's get into positions!” The curtain was down, the dancers were dressed and the barn was packed with excited parents. Little creatures hopped into their places and got into their starting poses. Jesminda was trying her best to help the moose with his too heavy antlers. Irene saw what was happening and rushed to see what she could do. It was mere seconds before the show was due to begin so she ripped off some of the points to reduce the weight and sent the dancer to his place. 

Jesminda and Irene stayed backstage, off to the side so no one could see them and watched the show begin. 

In addition to the usual piano, there was a violinist and a singer for some of the songs. The barn was dark, faelights only illuminating the stage. The kids ran through their choreography with minor slip ups. An occasional missed turn and a slight trip were the only imperfections Irene could detect. The audience was in fits of laughter and oo’s and aah’s as the recital went on. By the end, Irene stepped out, took a bow thanking the crowd and the performers for making the night unforgettable.

Eris was pacing in his rooms. He had been walking from one end of the space to the other for hours. Irene agreed to work with him. That meant that Beron had to be dealt with swiftly. He spent the last day thinking of possible solutions but each of them involved the support of another court, a third party who could justifiably eliminate Beron and clear the path for Eris and Irene. Maybe Tamlin could-

A soft, shy knock on his door beckoned him. When he swung it open Irene was there, beaming. “Can I come in?” 

Eris stepped aside. He felt on edge, she had never seen his room. She practically skipped inside. Her energy was contagious but it did not mix well with the stress and anxiety he had been feeling just seconds before. She was bouncing, her eyes were smaller than usual, the smile she wore caused them to crinkle at the edges. Eris wanted to throw up. 

“The recital was a total success! It would have never turned out so amazing if it weren’t for the stage and the curtains and the new floors. So I just came by to thank you.” 

“I’m glad it went well.” 

“I’ve- I’ve never done something like this before. You know? Back in Velaris I was relegated to random tasks and just helped out wherever I could but this little school… I think it can really be something, Eris.” 

“So do I.” 

She frowned. “What 's wrong?”

“Nothing you should know about.” Realization ghosted her features. “Understood.” 

“Is there anything else?” 

“Yes,” she said and reached into the satchel she carried and pulled out a small box wrapped in red fabric. “One of the mothers baked cakes for everyone in the crew as a thank you. She was there when you helped with the waltz and the stage. The short lady with dark brown hair? Anyways, she baked one for you and asked me to deliver it so here you go.” 

“Oh, thank her for me.” He said as he accepted the gift. “Will do.” She looked at him expectantly. 

“What?”

“Are you not going to open it?”

“Not right now.”

“Oh come on! The night calls for a celebration, I brought mine, look” she pulled out another identical box “and Lucien ditched me and Mora’s asleep. You’re the only friend I have that’s awake.” 

Eris coughed, choking on air. Friend. 

“You- We’re friends?” 

“Well, yes. I wouldn’t call us acquaintances at this point.” She laughed as she spotted a table and sat down with her cake.

It was the strangest thing. For the life of him, Eris could not remember the last time someone claimed him as a friend. He wasn’t entirely sure he ever had one. Maybe his brothers were his friends at one point, but not anymore. 

He followed her and opened his own box. Before they began eating, Irene raised the first bite on her fork and toasted “to brighter days.”

taglist: @sidthedollface2 @acourtofbatboydreams

[yuri-is-online]

Hi! I know it's a bit weird of me to put another thing in your periphery so soon after my last check-in. But I'm currently caught up in Princess Peach: Showtime! brainrot and I thought you'd like to hear it!

So in one of your earlier posts you came up with the idea of Yuu having a modern Alice in Wonderland-esque overblot with Grim as their phantom. But, having spent the better part of a week trying to hundred percent this game (why am I like this?) gave me another worm. And it goes something like this:

What if Grim isn't the only one gaining something from those blot crystals?

Because in the game, Peach changes "form" so to speak, after taking in a bunch of Sparkle. So who's to say Yuu isn't unknowingly absorbing runoff blot from those crystals? Then who's to say that Yuu doesn't have similar "forms" to the Overblot boys? Snapshots immortalized in ink and imbeded in a human who is slowly but surely losing it. And, going along with your idea of a Yuu overblot, what would it be like for the boys to have to effectively face themselves should that happen? Now it's not just Grim they have to face but a reflection of them at their lowest and the one victim who has been dragged to it every single time. The pain, the fear, the regret! Ah! I didn't know I could think of something so angsty! (And that's not even talking about Peach's last form and the Yuu equivalent!)

Anyway, make of that what you will. I just wanted to get that out there. Hope you're doing well and staying healthy! Looking forward to the next thing you make!

Sincerely,

The anon who loves Riddle & Azul

I really do love the way you format your asks dear friend, it is rather like receiving a letter. It is splendid to hear from you again so soon.

I had a brain rot myself a bit a while ago thinking about how it would be interesting for Yuu and Grim to channel the overblot forms similar to Eden's Promise: Eternity in FFXIV:

In my mind I was thinking how I would design a boss fight where Grim has three forms and Yuu has three forms, and then they merge to channel the Thorn Fairy since she's too powerful for just the one of them... but meh that's neither here nor there. The idea of Yuu with forms that reflect the various phantoms and physical attacks that reflect the overblot boys is so delicious, but realistically I think the concept you are describing where the boys are being forced to face themselves is the point of the various chapters we are going through in Book 7 right now. Grim and Yuu twisted into an overblotted abomination... you could argue that facing them would be the equivalent of what is happening with the ob boys right now in his book. It would be easy for him to blame the other dorm leaders and act like if they didn't overblot then he wouldn't be forced to hurt his first friend... but then that would be a disservice to you. He very much had his part to play, the largest one perhaps. In you now is a twisted reflection of everything he hated about himself: his power and his inability to save those he loved with it. You don't need any form other than your own to taunt him with that.

I do think you are onto something about the crystals not just affecting Grim. If we think about the relationship between Grim and Yuu, I think it makes the most sense to say that what Yuu gains from the blot crystals is their premonitions of overblot? Memories sealed in crystal are a fairly common trope... so if the memories of the respective phantom is trapped inside of that crystal then Yuu's visions could be the crystals calling out to them. I am less solid on the "why" but when I think about it this way, something about Grim and Yuu's connection allows Yuu to "hear" the crystals forming, which is why we don't get visions of every bad thing that happens (Rollo and Fellow for example) because there is no "Flower of Evil" about to bloom. Perhaps the Great 7's crystals "belong" to Grim/the Chimera in some way so that's why they are calling to Yuu? I need to think a bit more, but oh I am so glad you sent this ask. It gave me so much to think about...

[fentyjjk]

chapters 1 | 2

pairing jungkook x fem reader

genre angst, heartbreak, cheating

synopsis your relationship with jungkook had been dying for a while. for the last year of your five year relationship you two had all but floated around each other but after you catch him cheating that's the final straw.

warnings jungkook is a bit of an ass, angsty, smut, y/n and jungkook are a mess, messy breakups, little bit of violence, cheating, guns, yoongiisheretoo

read me hello! this is my first angsty type of writing that i'm publishing hope you enjoy !!

The clock above your office door ticked slowly as if taunting you like the inanimate object was ticking away at the amount of time you could avoid going home to him. Jungkook, your boyfriend of five years. It wasn't that you didn't love him, no, you do. It's not that you wanted someone else either (and even if you did you and Jungkook weren't shy of threesomes) it was simply the way you felt in his presence at moments. Bored was the word that felt most suitable at times when you two weren't having sex.

Compared to any other relationship out there you're not going to feel butterflies and giddy when you come around that special person in your life all the time, but this wasn't just that non-giddy feeling or not feeling the butterflies this was you and Jungkook living around each other; occupying the same space, but being so far away.

To say the least your love is dying out— if not dead already— and neither of you have the courage to put the nail in the coffin.

You watched the clock and as it hit 7:30 you gathered your things, you tried to cheer yourself up as you left as you thought on the next upcoming days. In a few days you and Jungkook will have been together for six years. A long time, yes, but not a happy time. He hadn't proposed yet which is a frequent irritation to you seeing as those your other friends were engaged, married, even having fucking kids and they seem genuinely happy together. On top of that, they were together for a significantly less amount of time than you and Jungkook are now before they're significant others' popped the big question!

Some of your friends picked up on your feelings towards your relationship pretty early on. They could tell that that you weren't satisfied and nor was Jungkook. Your perfect happy unmarried couple facade could only last for so long. The jokes they made didn't help either. Jokes about how unhappy you seem, jokes about how Jungkook is probably cheating on you and that bitch Hana. She was your roommate in college who still has a stick up her ass because you're the one Jungkook has been with from college up until now. It still brings discomfort to you when you think of what she said to you at your birthday party.

"Jungkook said he still has something planned for later on tonight…" You told your group of girlfriends as you'd all settled around the coffee table in the middle of your apartment.

"How exciting!" Nayeon squeaked seemingly more thrilled than you'd been the entire night. "He's so thoughtful."

"Yeah I know.." You look over at him, he's standing with a few of your mutual friends next to that touchy bitch, Jiyeon. He's barely spoken to you unless the two of you are in front of friends playing up the happy couple act. "Another night of missionary…" you mumble to yourself but the array of laughter from your friends let's you know they heard you clearly.

Hana laughed the hardest at the snarky comment the beer she had held up to her red lips dripping through the edges of her mouth as she slurred into your ear, "if you don't want him I'll take him he seems pretty big." She only laughed more at the presumed look of disgust on your face saying she was joking after you pushed her onto the couch and walked off.

She was right he is big though and that's what was saving you guys, your sex.

No one could really give it to you as good as he does. Your threesomes proved as much.

Guys would be fucking you and Jungkook wouldn't even be touching you just watching while he jerked himself off staring at you making you feel hot and sexy all for him and you'd fall apart. The guys could never really get you there on their own. You needed him, you'd become accustomed to just him in bed. The attraction paired with how good he and you are in bed kept you two together.

To put it simply; sex spiced up the boring.

Which is why you had an idea, maybe you guys needed something more. Not marriage, no, Jungkook said he'd propose when he was ready, you needed something sexually anew. You'd had orgies, threesomes, used handcuffs, chains, ropes, choking, done all the vanilla shit, nothing hasn't been tried, but maybe you need something more daring sex is also becoming a part of your boring routine despite how good it is, you need a little more fire.

You'd gotten home to the TV blaring from the front room the smell of something delicious hitting your nostrils as you set your bag down and took your shoes off. You hang your coat on the rack just as Jungkook comes into view.

"How was work?"

"Good, what're you cooking?"

"I just finished actually, it's rice and some lamb skewers your plates on the counter." You smile, pressing a kiss to his cheek in thanks before walking past him to finally eat, you're starving to be honest.

"I had an idea," you say as you pop some rice in your mouth. His cooking never fails to amaze you, now is no different.

He joins you by the counter, his hand rubbing your thigh, his phone in the other, "I'm listening."

"I want to go out to eat—somewhere nice and pristine and… expensive." Jungkook looks over at you denial heavy on his tongue, with both of your payrolls, anything expensive, not just restaurants, is not a norm, they are a very rare luxury.

"Y/N-" you cup his cheek, the soft gesture which you hadn't done in months stuns him into silence.

"Just this once, okay? It'll be a nice night for us and I'll pay." You smile softly kissing his lips which taste of lamb skewers.

"Fine, but I'm paying and making the reservations." Maybe the butterflies were still there because his gentleness never failed to make your heart flutter.

You'd both gone to Choi's Restaurant, one of the most high end restaurants in Seoul and among the most expensive. How Jungkook managed to get a reservation still stuns you, but you take it for what it is. You marvel at the plain, but luxurious looking room as you're guided to a more secluded space by a waiter. A gold grand piano is placed in the middle of the tables where a man in a tuxedo played soft melodies as people ate, giving the place a cozier feel as does the white, brown, and gold hues do. The glimmering chandelier above almost made you stop in your tracks, how the hell did Jungkook pay for this?

Once seated near the back, away from most of the people who no doubt frequented the restaurant, you two ordered and talked over the amazing interior of the place and how expensive it looked which led to Jungkook commenting on how well you fit here. His eyes shone sadly. He's thinking about all those years ago.

When you and Jungkook first started dating you'd told him you got a job opportunity in the US and told him you'd wanted to move to pursue it. The job in question offered a lot more money than where you were working at the time, plus you'd finally be able to get away from the mumbled remarks of those at your job about your darker skin color and people touching your hair unprovoked. And even though he didn't openly say it, it was evident to you that he was making you choose and that if you left your relationship would end.

You chose Jungkook and stayed in South Korea.

The only reason he didn't want to go to the US wasn't because of his English—which he knew fluently—but because in his words he 'was going to become a promising idol.' For months you'd sat and waited for him to debut, giving up your dreams so he could pursue his own only for his group to make a one hit wonder and be forgotten about years later.

"Hey," you grab his hand across the table meeting his eyes, "it's okay, and you look amazing too." He smiles caressing the back of your hand, he lifts it kissing your palm softly. Now it's time. "Really sexy.. if I were bold enough I'd probably suck you off under the table." The wine he was sipping gets caught in his throat as he coughs. You giggle watching him splutter before you.

"W-what?"

"What? You don't want me to give you head here? In front of all these fancy people?" Your eyes leave his to scan the people eating away unaware that you were mere seconds from dropping to your knees and making it difficult for Jungkook to contain himself.

"Baby- fu- don't do that…'' his voice strained when you lifted your leg underneath the table pressing your heel to his crotch. You pull back when he tells you to, but you feel him grab your ankle almost yanking you forward when he forces you to press against his growing bulge firmer. "fuck," he shifts moving forward so his forearm presses against the table making it easier for you to move your foot against him.

"Aw, bun, you getting horny?" His eyes met yours. He seemed like he was losing it, the lust and panic in his eyes evident as the door to the restaurant opened and a group of people walked in reminding him and you that you two are in public that only further bestowed you.

You moved your foot down pressing the heel to his balls he yelped, digging his nails into the flesh of your ankle, hard. You chuckled, rubbing the area gently with the padding of your shoe.

This is so filthy you're turning him on with your shoe. It should make you feel disgusted, but it doesn't plus you'd rarely ever see Jungkook be this submissive and needy. It did something to you. The waiter came to your table and Jungkook composed himself fairly quickly although you feel the way he subtly pushes into your foot guiding you up and down his clothed length by his grip on your ankle, tightening his hold on your hand above the table.

When the food arrives you're still teasing him beneath the table and as soon as the waiter is out of sight you slide beneath the table under the cloth that covers you. You, with the help of Jungkook, undo his belt buckle, unzipping his dress pants slowly. He truly did look good tonight. It's a shame that you marked his pants with your heels but you'd make it up to him, right now. His boxers strain against his cock. You can feel him twitching in your hands when you grip him. The quiet curse slipping from his lips makes you grin satisfied that he's enjoying himself.

When you take him out of his underwear the angry red tip stares back at you shiny with precum. You waste no time sucking his tip into your mouth, almost crying out when he thrusted forward filling your mouth and the beginning of your throat without warning. You repress the urge to pull away, bobbing your head slowly just the way he likes it trying not to cough at the unexpected movement.

His coat covers the light that's coming through the tablecloth, his hands finding your newly redone box braids shortly there after. He barely moved his hips as to not draw attention to himself, but you do feel his restraint by the grip he has on your hair. It burns so well.

The thought of someone catching you two in this obscene action makes you throb in the sheer underwear your wearing. You pull off of him, his spit slicked length hitting your lips as he tries to push you back on him, you grab his wrist making him stop, "I'm going to hump your leg," you rasp, "is that okay?"

"Yes, fuck, yes please do, use me." He says in a breathless whisper, you smile lifting the ends of your clad green dress to your hips. Rubbing your throbbing clit you tease yourself a bit as you sit on his dress shoe, he moves his leg forward his calf pressing against your cunt you almost moan as he moves his leg against you. The friction is too good and you can't stop grinding into the delicious relief but it's about him too, you remind yourself.

You lean against him sucking his balls into your mouth as you glide your hand up and down his veiny girth quickly; anyone would hear the squelching sound if they came close enough but you're too far gone to care. You take him into your mouth again, paying extra attention to his tip as small beads of cum begin to squirt out.

"Wa-wait, Y/N–baby, I'm going to c-cum.." he tries to push you away by your braids but you take him down your throat the groan that leaves his mouth soon thereafter lets you know he's coming soon…

And he does right down your throat. Like the good girlfriend you are, you swallow licking his slit, milking him. You hear the mumbled curses and your name and press against his calf harder. You lean back staring at his twitching length as you bring yourself over the edge as well with your fingers. You moan a little too loudly, but Jungkook is too caught up in his post orgasmic state to say anything so you assume it's fine. You crawl back to your side of the table quickly wiping the corners of your mouth suckling the little remnants of cum from your nail before reaching for the white tablecloth about to come back up before you hear footsteps and stay put.

"Hello," you hear a man greet Jungkook.

"Hi-"

"I'm the owner of Choi's, Yeonjun," you see Jungkook lean forward and assume they are shaking hands. He's shaking hands with the owner of the restaurant you just gave your boyfriend oral in... What the fuck. "How do you like the food?"

"I-it's goo-"

"Really? I mean considering the fact that you've barely touched it and have instead chosen to let your girlfriend give you head here instead of eating it seems to me that you're lying." Fuck. Jungkook says nothing for a while.

"I'm sorry?" Jungkook squeaks in attempts to feign confusion.

"I would hope you are. Not only is this a health violation, it's also illegal, you know public indecency? I am asking you kindly to leave my restaurant as soon as possible."

"Are we banned?" You say meekly from below the table.

"No. I didn't say I didn't enjoy the little act of voyeurism." You hear the playful tone of voice before the sound of descending footsteps resounds.

Later in that night you and Jungkook went at it again and again, this was probably the most passionate sex you've had in ages.

After you've worn each other out, you lay there in bed, phone in hand as Jungkook holds you from behind. Something as mundane as cuddling fills you with all kinds of joy and love, you can't even remember the last time you've done that without being in the presence of friends. Your heart was filled as he clung to you when you tried to leave for the bathroom, mumbling something about not letting you go.

Maybe things weren't so bad after all.

Things had been going well. Who knew a little voyeurism could really add to your relationship? You and Jungkook were beyond happy.

Jungkook's group even had a comeback scheduled for next month which according to their company would really thrust them back into the spotlight. As weird as it was, giving head to Jungkook made the world a little brighter.

Or so you thought.

You'd picked up an extra shift at work taking up for Ryunjin who had to watch her two year old after her child's father bailed at the last minute. You didn't mind plus the extra money meant you could maybe go to another luxurious restaurant with Jungkook or maybe you two could go back to Choi's..

Your shift ended earlier than usual due to there being a fire that had started in the building next to yours. You wasted no time packing your belongings ready to go home to a cooked meal by your beloved boyfriend which had become routine since that night at Choi's.

You felt happy and ecstatic even as you stepped through the threshold of your apartment not to be greeted by your boyfriend which was typical before that night although it felt a little odd now. Usually he was scrambling to make dinner or just finishing it up, instead the tv greets you from the living room.

You take off your shoes and then your coat calling out your boyfriend's name against the obscenely loud noise from the living room TV. You get nothing in response and travel further into your home. There on the kitchen counter are two plates and two wine glasses one has lipstick remnants on it, below that on the floor there's heels, next to that is a pair of black lace panties, next to that there's a shirt, Jungkook's LV shirt. It's like a trail and even though you know all too well what you're walking into as you follow the trail of clothing to your bedroom you don't hesitate nor falter in your steps, however, when you reach your bedroom door your hand hesitates on the knob.

What if… what if you just leave? What if the sounds of moans coming from the room are just Jungkook watching porn? But if that's the case, why did he purposely turn up the volume so loudly on the living room TV? Like he intended to drown out the sounds of sex?

You open the door just a bit so a slither of light coming from the room spills out into the hall along with the now non-door-restricted moans from the girl on top of him, "Daddy!" Your cringe internally you know Jungkook didn't have a thing for being called 'daddy' and you can't believe he was desperate enough to go for someone with a kink he doesn't fancy. You're not sad, not yet, you're observing.

The girl on top of him is different from you in every form of the word. She's petite, fair skin, with long black hair that's being tugged down to her back by Jungkook so her neck is exposed to his rough kisses, his arms enclosed around her waist holding her up, as he pounds in and out of her whilst simultaneously slamming her back down and it seems as though the more she slams down onto his thighs, the more skin slapping on skin echoes like a taunting chant in your home, the more Jungkook groans, the more your eyes sting and your throat burns with it.

You can't watch anymore.

You push open the door with a slam. Jungkook's wide eyes fly to the door not expecting you home for a few hours. The girl doesn't look at you immediately, instead settles for trying to cover up her naked body as if that'll erase both of their indecency to you.

See the thing about this girl is you know her.

Jungkook knows her.

You both know her very well.

She's the girl that Jungkook told you to never worry about, Jana, Hana's annoying ass all too friendly twin sister.

She's the girl that gave you your first tattoo and the other thirteen you got after that.

She's also the girl that gave you the rest of your piercings and Jungkook's tattoos. You never hated Hana or Jana until Jungkook was getting a tattoo from her on his thigh. You were there as you were for all of his tattoos prior. The way she settled for sitting on her knees below him as she worked over the chair unsettled you the way she kept looking up at him through her lashes with a hint of a smirk as they talked, disgusted you.

But you always fucking settled.

So when Jungkook had suggested that you have a threesome over dinner for the first time ever in your relationship, you know he was pondering on the idea for longer than you were comfortable with.

Of course it was with her, you felt more upset rather than jealous as he told you who he wanted to have the threesome with he had hinted that he wanted it to be a girl, but you had prayed he wouldn't say her of all people.

Jungkook is attractive and girls flirting with him was never much of an issue to you because he always shut them down almost immediately and chances of them ever seeing him again were very slim. Plus they'd remember him mentioning you.

But with Jana you all saw each other very frequently because Jungkook loves his tattoos and piercings and now that you think about it it might not even be because he wants more tattoos he just wanted an excuse to see Jana without it worrying you.

But after that threesome—which you regretted partaking in so much more afterwards—they became more friendly.

You made up reasonable excuses in your head when you two would go to the parlor and she'd smile at him a bit wider than before, she'd touch him more than she necessarily needed, or when his eyes would linger too long on her ass before he'd look away trying to gauge your reaction through his peripheral to see if he'd been caught, and each time you'd bite your tongue.

You'd thought yeah you'd probably be more touchy with someone too if you had slept with them, but not if said person was in a fucking relationship.

How could you have been so fucking stupid?

Jana doesn't say anything nor does Jungkook for a bit, they just stare at you waiting for you to do something, say something. You stared at the wall for a good minute before looking at the nightstand next to your bed, condom packets peeking through. You should've picked up on that. You’re on birth control Jungkook had no reason to have those unless he was with someone else.

Then finally you looked at them, Jana looked scared, her eyes looking at you with riveting fear. Jungkook looked the same, but he seemed to be bolder than her; he stood picking up his boxers you looked over at him, hickies coated his chest, which is probably why he always insisted on sex in the dark, his dick was shiny with her arousal as he shuffled it in his boxers.

Then, you were pissed.

Red, hot anger washed over you at once Jungkook was still approaching you with slow cautious steps as Jana tried to cover herself with whatever she could find which happened to be his shirt which only pissed you off more. Jungkook was speaking, but you couldn't hear him. Your heart was pounding in your ears so loudly that anything he was saying was falling on deaf ears.

He was maybe five feet away from you when you held out your hand to keep him at a distance. Through a shaky voice you said to the both of them, "I'm not mad." The clear relief that washed over the two of them made you almost reach into your nightstand and grab the gun you and Jungkook keep. But that'd take too much work going back out into the living room, grabbing your purse to get the key to that specific drawer, loading the magazine and choosing who to shoot first, again too much work.

"You're not?" Jana mumbles quietly behind Jungkook's large frame. She really should've stayed quiet because whatever you are using to try and convince yourself that you were calm dissipated at the sound of her high pitched raspy voice one look at the hickies that lead down to his boxers let you know she probably sucked his dick.

"No, Jana, I can't find it in myself to be mad, I'm actually ecstatic."

"Why?" Jungkook asks this time, you look up at him, it hurts again; your chest, your heart, it hurts so much.

"When I get arrested for attempted murder I'll have a real good motive." You smile then so wide that your jaw hurts.

"Bab—" you shove Jungkook, looks like you're going for Jana first.

You grab whatever you think will do the most damage that you can hurl at Jana's perfect little head, it's the lamp on your shared nightstand. You throw it with so much force it indents into the wall when Jana dodges by about an inch the terminal scratches her eye quite nicely before you climb over the bed. You smash her head into the wall with a loud resounding slap her small petite frame falling to the ground as she cries out in pain. Climbing on top of her you grab a hand full of her hair you slamming her head back into the wooden floor of your bedroom. She thrashes below you screaming before trying and failing to pull your hands off her hair and you smile giving her what she wants settling for punching her square in that pretty mouth Jungkook must love oh so much. You land a good few hits to her face before she blacks out and stops screaming and Jungkook is pulling you off.

"Y/N, stop! Stop! Stop!" You struggle in his hold, his broad frame still sweating with their previous activities.

"Get the fuck off me!" You use everything in you to separate yourself from Jungkook, "don't fucking touch me!" You practically run down the hallway to your living room Jungkook following closely behind.

"Where are you going?" He asks as you put on your shoes.

"Away from you."

"You can't leave—"

"I think the best for me to do is leave because if not I put this on everything I love I will actually fucking kill you." He's silent as you gather your things, your words hitting him hard. He realized just then how quickly your love for him turned to dust and is now replaced by a deep hatred.

You unlock the door ready to turn it before his hand closes the door beside your head, "Baby—"

"You know what's funny?" The sadness is back as your throat swells with the need to cry all over again, "I gave up everything for you—"

"I didn't ask you to do that-'' He reprimands, you spin around the tears falling on their own accord upon seeing his disheveled state.

"Don't fucking cut me off," you say sternly. "What's funny is I didn't even want to have that fucking threesome with you and that whore and you didn’t even notice how uncomfortable I was and you should have. But it's my fault I guess because I did it anyway because I didn't want to upset you because I'm always thinking of you! How does Jungkook feel? What would make Jungkook happy? And even now I haven't laid a finger on you, and I really should, and you haven't even apologized yet, you haven't said two simple fucking words 'I'm sorry' or 'it didn't mean anything baby I love you' you don't fucking care about me, us, or our relationship and neither do I, not anymore." You turn back around and open the door it slams closed with more force by Jungkook once again his hand balled into a fist holding the door shut.

"Y/N, you can't just leave," he strains, the pleading tone in his voice clear as he speaks, "not after everything we've been through," he's moving closer to you with more intention. Physical touch has always been a love language for you and Jungkook, but now you abhor it.

"What don't you get? You fucked up! We're done, let me go—"

"I'm sorry, okay? I'm so fucking sorry just please don't leave, I can't be on my own, I need you." He stressed through clenched teeth. It's something about the way he worded it, a thought comes to you then. Jungkook doesn't have a real stable job outside of his failing idol career and working at a minimum wage paying fast food joint which barely supplies rent, he needs you for the money. Maybe that's why he couldn't leave you; he needed you to survive.

You turn around walking closer to him, there's so much rage stirring inside of you it's as if he can feel. Ironically enough he backs up as if he's afraid. Jungkook is broader than you, taller than you, looms over you, and yet he seems scared. You speak with your hands venom tainting every word as you spit, "You are the most self centered selfish person I've ever fucking met in my life, and I fucking hate you, if it wasn't clear enough we're done. I want you and your shit out of my apartment by the time I get off tomorrow."

"Y/N—"

"Do me a favor, shut the fuck up and get out of my life for good." You spin on your heels opening the door only to slam it as you exit. You take the stairs down the multiple floors of your complex knowing damn well that Jungkook would've gone to the elevator to try and stop you.

You're done, for real this time.

You end up at Lia's house, your best friend for the longest and the one person who told you time and time again that Jungkook wasn't good for you after you told her about your passed up job opportunity and your reason for staying in Korea. You never listened though you never do and look where that led you.

You'd managed to hold it together through the twenty minute drive to her house, but as her partner opens the door groggy and confused he yawns before he asks, "You good—" he barely finishes before you wrap your arms around him, he hesitates before he slowly raises his arms hugging you back. Yoongi was never the best at giving hugs or any form of comfort towards others, but he tries as he pulls you inside cautiously locking the door as he holds you.

"No, she's not here, Jungkook. I told you a thousand times th—" Lia stops speaking to Jungkook on her house phone upon seeing you sobbing into Yoongi's chest in their kitchen. "Look, Yori woke up, I gotta go— No, goodbye, Jungkook!" She ends the call rather abruptly, quickly coming into the kitchen. She takes you into her arms. She doesn't know what happened yet, but she reassures you with ‘its okay’ and ‘let it all out’ as you cry harder. "What's wrong, baby, hm? Talk to me." You try to speak, but end up choking out your words.

"H-he cheated, Lia, h-he ch-cheated on me with that fucking b-bitch oh my God," you fist at her shirt until your bruised knuckles turn white as sobs rack through you like waves.

"Who?" Yoongi asks you to feel Lia shake her head as if to signal to him it wasn't the time to ask.

"J-Jana! That fucking cunt!" Lia's eyes widen as you hug her tighter.

"As much as I want you to express yourself please do it quietly Yori is sleeping," Yoongi mumbles, referring to their two year old.

"Yoongi!" Lia scolds him through gritted teeth.

"What? Baby, I just got her to bed." Yoongi defends.

You pull away from Lia, "I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to burden you I just—"

"Don't say that you're not burdening us, sit on the couch I'll get you some water," Lia says to you, you walk to their living room where baby toys are scattered as Lia makes you a glass of water. You feel ashamed. Coming over to your bestfriends house in a distressed state unannounced is out of character for you, but then again Jungkook never cheated before (to your knowledge) so you never knew how you’d react.

Lia sits with you on the couch while Yoongi stands at the kitchen window awkwardly staring.

She passes you the glass as you mutter thank you. "Why're your hands bleeding, Y/nie?" She calls you your nickname which would normally make you smile, but you're too sad to notice you look down to your bruised hands.

"I beat her ass,'' Yoongi laughs, clapping in approval. Lia turns to him glaring.

"Sorry," He apologizes quickly, clearing his throat he steps into the kitchen doorway, "Imma go.. I'm just gonna go.." Yoongi excuses himself down the hall to their bedroom.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Lia asks softly as if you're fragile.

"Honestly there's not much to talk about, I'm just tired." Lia nods in understanding. You had been there for her when Yoongi cheated back in college, she said the same thing to you; it was exhausting, this is draining. Though you and her ended up in two different places afterward the infidelity. She left him all the same, but years later they reconnected, he'd grown and showed her that he was better - you can't imagine Jungkook trying to do the same.

"Okay well I'll clean up your hands grab you some pj's and you can take a quick shower if you want to and then you can go to bed in the guest room, that sound good?" You nod with a small hum.

You smile, "Thank you, Li."

"Any time." She smiles softly.

About thirty minutes later, you're situated in the guest bedroom. Lia and Yoongi wishing you a good night a little while ago and then settling into their own bedroom. You try not to think back to Jungkook and what happened which was rather difficult because Jungkook wouldn't stop texting and calling you which resulted in you blocking him. Your eyes finally flutter shut some ten minutes later.

You awake to loud pounding on the front door. Startled, you step out into the hallway and you go to your friend's bedroom. Her baby is sobbing, also seemingly afraid by the loud noise.

"What's going on?" You ask over the loud sobs from Yori.

"We don't know." Yoongi says reaching into their closet he pulls out a gun.

"Baby, is that really necessary?" Lia says through a whisper.

Yoongi shrugs, "You never know." He leaves the two of you to find whoever is at their front door.

You're not as nervous as you were before comforted by the fact that you’re not alone, "You feel better?" Lia asks her tired eyes meeting yours.

"Not really." You admit your heart is still heavy with the fact that this is your reality and that this whole night wasn't some awful nightmare.

"When I'm not on baby duty we can go get drunk somewhere, you and I both need it." You laugh lightly with a small nod as Yori begins to calm down.

"Yeah, that sounds good."

"Jungkook, what the fuck man?" Your wide eyes glance up at Lia's upon hearing your his name.

"Y/N, don't." Lia tries to stop you from leaving the room, but with Yori in her arms there's only so much she can do.

You peek over the edge of the hallway wall to see Jungkook at the back door with Yoongi, Yoongi's gun now being placed on the kitchen counter.

"Is Y/N here?"

"No, man and even if she was that doesn't give you an excuse to come over here pounding on my front door like a mad man scaring my wife and kid at three in the fucking morning. The fuck is wrong with you?" Yoongi spits crossing his arms.

"I just—I know she's here, her car is in the driveway. Just let me speak to her." Jungkook says desperately trying to peer into the house over Yoongi's smaller frame Yoongi pushes him back slightly.

"Look, you gotta go, man to man this ain't the way, like ever, like you should really leave."

"Yoongi, please." Jungkook pleads ignoring Yoongi completely.

"Jungkook, I'm warning you, leave before I call the cops. You're being out of line and I ain't putting my hands on you cause you're in a tough spot right now and I understand that, but you really gotta go."

"Yoongi, I love her, man, she means everything to me I can't let her go."

"You think this is going to help win her back? Seriously?" Jungkook sighs.

"I'm sorry, I… I'll go, can you just tell Y/N to call me back."

"Yeah, I got you." Yoongi closes the door, locking it after he grabs his gun putting the safety back on, he comes towards the hallway jumping after seeing you standing there. "oh fuck, don't scare me like that."

"My bad." You apologize following him down the hallway back to their bedroom.

"Everything all good?" Lia asked, placing Yori back into her crib.

"Yeah, it was just Jungkook, he's being weird." Yoongi replied putting his gun back in its place.

You nibble at your bottom lip feeling an immense amount of guilt for being this chaos to their door step. "I'm really sorry about this." Lia opens her mouth to speak, but Yoongi beats her to it.

"It's fine, Y/N, get some sleep, you need it." You nod, spin around, leave their room and do just that.

Lia offered to go back with you to your apartment after she got off work, but you denied her offer saying she'd done enough for you last night so here you were driving to your apartment that was leased in your name therefore Jungkook can be kicked out by the police if he's still there when you arrive.

You hesitate to unlock your front door when you reach it. Shaking off your nerves you begin typing in the code. Jungkook should be at work right now. That idea is then erased when the door swings open a distressed Jungkook appearing.

"Y/N," is all he says before he pulls you into his chest. You absolutely abhor how comfortable he is, his strong arms securing you in his hold, the warmth he emits, you can even smell the faint cologne he wears lingering on his skin. It screams home and safety right before it hits you the events of last night flooding back into your mind. You push him off walking further into your apartment. You go into your bedroom to see that Jungkook's clothes are still meshed in with your own in the closet as are his belongings that are usually kept around your shared living space.

"Why is your stuff still here?" You ask without turning around knowing he's right behind you.

"We need to talk." You close your eyes inhaling deeply.

"What is there to talk about?" Jungkook laughs in uncertainty.

"There's a lot to talk about, baby, I love you you can't just give up on us—"

You face him repeatedly pushing your finger into his chest as you snarl, "You gave up on us the second you had sex with her, you ruined this—" he grabs your wrist.

"I didn't ruin shit, Y/N!" He screams at you, his face contorting with rage? Like he has a right to be upset with you. "We all had sex what is the issue?"

"Jungkook, you gotta be fucking joking," you laugh bitterly nodding to yourself. "Okay so you're saying it's not cheating because we all had a threesome, yes?" He hesitates before he nods settling on that argument, "me, you, and Eric had a threesome, if I fucked him without you there would you be okay with that?" It's quick the way his face twists up clearly put off by the idea before he stills his features. "My point exactly."

His mouth opens closing it again as he looks away from you his thumb mindlessly rubbing over the skin of your wrist raising goosebumps, "Have you.. had sex with Eric without me?" He mumbles quietly.

"Yes," his eyebrows draw together, it's comical the way his jaw drops, "in college when me and you weren't together, he even asked me out, but I turned him down because I met you. I knew I should've chosen someone else over you." You say honestly indulging in the way pain flashes in his brown eyes.

"Y/N, I screwed up okay? I admit that, but this was a one time thing I swear—"

"Bullshit! You think I'm dumb, Jungkook? There's no way this was a one time thing why the fuck do you keep condoms if I'm on birth control? Why the hell do you get so many fucking tattoos and insist that I shouldn't come along?" He shakes his head pulling you into him more his grip on your wrist tight.

"Please don't, Y/N, I need you, I love you so fucking much-" you push him away but he only holds you firmly against his chest in a half hug with your arm trapped between your chests.

"Jungkook.." you say tiredly the fight leaving your body as you slump against his chest, "get off me, please." You say softly.

"Y/N, I don't want you to leave."

"Why? What do we offer each other? You literally cheated on me, she obviously gave you something I-I didn't-" you inhale trying to wash away the urge to cry. What did she have that you don’t? Was it her body? Sure you were a little curvy, but so were all Jungkook’s exes you didn’t peg him for being into thinner women and certainly not Jana. She was younger, but that was only by a few years. What the hell could she give him that you didn’t? It couldn’t have been money either since barely anyone goes to her and Hana’s shared tattoo parlor.

"Baby, no, you are perfect the way you are I love everything about you." He stresses kissing the top of your head.

Tears burn your eyes as you blink at him a laugh of pain forcing its way through your throat, "says the cheater." You keep laughing hysterically until it turns to sobs and you're falling to your knees with Jungkook trying to hold you up, cradling you in his big arms, shushing you.

"I'm sorry, baby," he says his voice breaking, "I'm so fucking sorry."

read me hey so if you couldn't tell i had no clue how to end this but they are broken up im thinking of doing a flashback splurge for the threesome between oc, jungkook, and jana to show how obviously oc didn't want to do it and might even include a little bit of the thigh tattoo scene but that's just an ideaaaaa, thanks for reading !

[pfffsfic]

Post-Fall Falls False Starts- Chapter 1: The Escape

First Chapter [you are here!] | Next Chapter

It was the seventh day of the post-apocalypse, but to an outsider, it might have looked like the thirtieth day or even the seventh month.

A menagerie of floating, misshapen objects rolled against a TV static sky, and below that layer of miscellany was a layer of floating islands, cracked pieces of the world that had once been superimposed over the depressing parallel realm but was now indistinguishable from it. Towards what had once been the town center, the sounds of fisticuffs echoed outwards 24/7. People- well, the residents of this world, who called themselves people- smashed, burned, and fought each other because they could- this was the apocalypse, it was what any sensible society ought to do in the event of an apocalypse! It was their right.

Traditional currency had been ousted and replaced by gold, only for gold to be ousted two days later via mob vote and replaced by anything. Businesses that refused to accept trade deals faced the wraths of the townsfolk, and businesses that accepted trade deals also faced the wrath of the townsfolk. Wrath was difficult to avoid. The lonely dimension, which had seemed like a dark and cold place to the only one who remembered it from before the collapse, was now up in flames, some literal, some emotional.

On the fifth day of the apocalypse, the-one-who-remembered-it realized he was starting to get hungry.

The junkyard was far enough from the town center to ensure he could avoid the angry atmosphere. That was for the better. This hadn't even begun to blow over. If he were to confront his former students- no! his former classmates- now, surely there would be fresh wounds to deal with. It was tempting, more tempting than he wanted to admit, to put on a smug face, walk right into the middle of a riot at what used to be the middle school, and say, "I told you so." What would they do? What could they do? They couldn't get their precious lives back! They had squandered them! But they could beat him up, and in fact they did beat him up for much less only seven days earlier. And so he stayed in the warehouse in what was left of the junkyard and scraped the bottom of his last can of beans with a piece of metal that was almost spoon-shaped if he squinted. He didn't even like beans. He had bought them to feel like a real prepper the day he saw all this coming for the first time.

"Oh, well," he thought. "Here goes nothing, I guess."

He let out an angsty sigh, crushed the can beneath his foot- which was, to his momentary annoyance, a lot harder than it looked on TV- and got up, heading across the desolate landscape towards the distant scent of fire and chaos.

Somebody had vandalized the town's welcome sign, which now hung from just one of its tether points and read,

"Welcome to NO-more

Population EVERYBODY"

Had there been some sort of agreement to change the town's name from Elmore to No More while he was away, or was the change simply a stroke of genius by the one who had messed with the sign? Either way, he found himself almost- but not quite- smiling at it. It was the sort of reaction you would have to the fourth repost of a meme you liked a decent amount the first time. It wasn't funny enough to be funny, and yet part of him wanted to laugh.

He tossed a rock at the sign, trying to knock it to the ground in an act of rebellion fueled by aimless rage, but he rather anti-climactically missed. One short survey later to make sure nobody saw his shame, he turned on his heel and headed for the smoldering wreckage of the local shopping mall, where rock music blared and an announcer whose voice he recognized as the local news anchor- Kip something?- called out the hastily-conceived epithets of fighters as they entered the ring.

"Next up, it's, well, it's that guy-"

The blue triangular guy at the edge of the makeshift wrestling ring made a garbled noise that, unfortunately for the audience, had no subtitles. He seemed angry. For just a moment, the-one-who-remembered-it (it being the TV static dimension before it combined with Elmore proper, of course, though now that topic had come and gone) found himself mentally kicking himself for paying more attention to the fight than to his purpose here. His eye fell upon the audience, darting from one person to another until he caught sight of a green, blocky-looking man in a business suit and horned motorcycle helmet chewing on some sort of unfamiliar- but still mouthwatering- drumstick. He pushed aside a few people (which was probably fine in the apocalypse, right?) and stood next to him, trying to put up a pretense of watching the fight. A minute or so later of waiting for the triangle's opponent to show up, he turned to the man.

"Hey," he said in his first social interaction since everything he knew collapsed.

"Hmm? What?" replied the man over the cacophony.

The-one-who-remembered-it inhaled sharply.

"Hey, where'd you get that, uh-"

"This helmet? I glued the horns from a halloween headband to my-"

"No!" The-one-who- no, Rob, his name was Rob- snatched the drumstick away and brandished it in his face. "This! Where would I get one of these?"

"F-from me!" stuttered the green guy.

"WHERE DID YOU GET YOURS?"

"Give it back!"

"Tell me and I'll give it back, alright?"

"Parking garage, second floor, can't miss it," said the green guy as he grabbed his lunch back from a frustrated Rob.

"Thanks. Was that so hard?"

"Come again?"

"Never mind."

Rob let out a labored breath as he hopped over the gap between the island most of the mall was on and the island the car park was on. It was quieter out here and Rob's internal monologue no longer had to scream for him to hear himself think. Second floor, huh?

He noticed that one of the elevators was on fire and the other one had its doors stuck open on what looked like a sheer drop into darkness. Neither of them would do, and so he heeded the age old prophecy: "IN CASE OF FIRE, USE STAIRS". The stairs themselves were, as it turned out, crumbling behind a squeaky door, and he suspected that perhaps the structural instability wasn't even the fault of the apocalypse. Even so, he walked up under flickering fluorescent lights that must have been so dedicated to their jobs that they kept working without electricity and found himself on the second storey, overlooking abandoned cars and trucks alike, wondering for a moment whether he was missing the supposedly-unmissable. And then he saw it: a red van- no, the red van- illuminated poetically by the only light in the room that was still at full power! He ran to it like an old friend and the window of the driver's seat slid down, a pair of glowing eyes peering out.

"Good evening, young one. How may our humble shop assist-"

"Drop the act, dude! You got food in there, right?"

"...Yes. But it will cost you."

Right, there was no way he'd get anything for free.

"Okay, okay. How much?"

"That depends entirely on how much food you want."

"How much would, say, a drumstick cost?"

"We're all out. My apologies."

"All out. Can I see what it is you do have in there?"

There was a rustling noise and a shadowy hand held out something that looked like the cloven-hoofed leg of some unknown animal.

"This is all we have."

"I-"

Rob tried to think over the idea of eating that thing and found he liked the idea of starving considerably better at the moment.

"That'll be 50 bucks."

Rob choked on his own spit.

"No way that thing is worth 50 bucks, old man!"

"We also accept trade deals. And gold!"

"C'mon," said Rob, clasping his hands together and speaking in the best friendly tone he could muster. "You and I go way back. Couldn't you do a guy a solid? It's the end of the world."

"You think we're friends? You stole from me when we first met!"

"I could not let that thing into the wrong hands!"

"YOUR hands were the wrong hands, considering you destroyed our merchandise without paying for it."

"Oh, you have no idea." Rob chuckled, rage boiling just behind his attempt at being amiable. The shadowy shopkeeper raised an eyebrow.

"Your plan didn't work, I gather?"

"No. They didn't listen to me."

"I warned you of the dangers of hubris when you bought those machines."

"It wasn't even my hubris, was it? It was theirs!"

"I never said whose hubris it was going to be."

Rob made an exasperated noise.

"If you want the machines back, they're over at the school in one of the admin offices," Rob offered, hoping that the office in question hadn't caved in yet. "Take 'em back and we'll be even, considering the seventy thirty-five I paid. Then you could use the extra money to give me a free whatever-that-is."

"Do you genuinely want this thing?" asked the shopkeeper with a wave of the mystery meat.

"No. Well, not right now, but one of these days I'm going to get really hungry. Cyclopes eat people," he added, as if trying to psych the shopkeeper out. "Who knows what I might resort to?"

"No offense, but, young man, you seem like the sort of guy who wouldn't eat a grilled fish if it had the head still on."

Rob huffed and turned around, hands on his hips, unable to deny the accusation without falling into the bad graces of his one current shot at getting a meal. After several calming breaths he faced back to the shopkeeper, was immediately met with the urge to throttle him, and took a step back to prevent the unfortunate altercation from coming to pass.

"I'll give you a bear trap and a crowbar in exchange for that leg thing."

"Two bear traps."

"I- I don't have two bear traps!"

"No deal, then."

"AUGH-! Let me in there! I want to take a look at your cheaper merchandise!"

The van doors slid open and Rob found himself in the familiar, unsettling atmosphere of the curio shop on wheels once again. He looked over a glowing skull with gemstones for eyes, an issue of a magazine called "TIME of your death", a washing machine that looked deceptively normal, a pedestal that held an impossible triangle.

"Five minutes 'til closing time," said the driver.

"Since when does this place have a closing time?"

"Since we started having to go stock and restock food."

"Oh, that makes-"

Rob's eye widened. The word 'sense' never left his mouth, because he realized it didn't make sense. Where could the driver possibly be going? Where was the food he was selling coming from? Where did any of his artifacts come from? Well, that last question wasn't as important at the moment.

"That makes?"

"Where exactly do you find this food?"

The driver grumbled.

"Far from here."

"Be less vague or I'll kill you again!"

He reached into his backpack and moments later brandished his crowbar in the shopkeeper's face with shaky hands.

"Again?"

"No, no, don't worry about that. We were talking about where you get your food."

"Far from-"

Rob swung and missed, the shopkeeper darting out of the way just in time.

"No! No more cryptic answers! Tell me where!"

He almost saw a bead of sweat run down the shadow man's face. Was it just a trick of the light, or had Rob actually managed to intimidate him? Of course he had, he thought! He was an intimidating guy. Rob found himself full of new confidence and would have pumped his fists if he wasn't in a tense stare-off with the mysterious pair of eyes in front of him.

"Fine, kid, from other universes."

"Like the real world?"

"No, no, I don't go to the real world all willy-nilly. That's something I would only ever do for a hefty sum. Other fake universes."

Rob lowered the crowbar.

"Take me with you," he said. "I'll never bother you ever again. You can leave me in another universe. Just- please, man. Please, I can't stay here!"

"Twenty bucks," deadpanned the shopkeeper with a biting glare.

"Fifteen bucks and a bear trap."

"Fifteen bucks and two bear traps."

"Fifteen bucks, a bear trap, and a crowbar."

"Is it a cursed crowbar?"

Rob almost considered lying and saying yes, but he shook his head, forlorn, the seed of a new idea growing in his head.

"No deal, young man. If you'll excuse me, it's closing time."

Rob sighed and smiled and stepped out of the van.

"Thanks anyways."

"For what?"

"For giving me the time of day."

"Don't mention it."

The van doors closed. Rob's face was placid, and as far as the shopkeeper was concerned his spirit was broken. Why else would anyone accept their fate so calmly? He had pepper spray at the ready in case the boy had put up a fight, but he hated the idea of using it on someone who could be a paying customer (albeit not a well-paying one, right now, in this economy). It was all the better that he had gone willingly and, presumably, thought to himself, 'it was worth a try'. That was why he was smiling, right? If the boy had some sort of other plan, it wasn't immediately obvious to him what that could be, and so he put the idea out of his head, setting his GPS to a coordinate elsewhere in the multiverse and starting the engines.

As far as Rob was concerned, he was about to do the opposite of accepting his fate. In fact, he would cheat it yet again. That was his specialty.

The van wasn't even moving fast yet! It would be a cinch! This time he could get a good grip!

As it started to pull away, he cracked his knuckles and took one last look out the car park window at the static sky. He stuck out his tongue at no one in particular. If the universe could see him, it would surely be seething.

"Goodbye," he said to the same no-one-in-particular, and then he ran and he clung to life for the second time.

[thana-topsy]

Fic Writer Interview

Tagged by @mongoose-bite ! Thanks so much, crunchy. :)

I'm tagging whoever else wants to chime in! I lose track of who all on here I should be tagging lol. Or who might actually want to participate in such a thing.

----

How many works do you have on AO3?

38

2. What’s your total AO3 word count? 643,096 words Mostly written within the last 5 years!

3. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Breathing Water - My flagship fic for the longest time. It still holds up 4 years later! And I'm still simping for Neloth.

Halfway to the Sky - Coming in with only about 30 kudos less than BW, I'm always tickled and humbled and just so honored that so many people like this story.

The Shadow Over Solstheim - This one had the most kudos for the longest time just because it's my oldest multi-chapter fic. Baby's first foray into something more than a smutty one-shot! My writing is unpolished and my lore knowledge is amateurish at best, but it's just so full of verve.

Hollow Men - A fic I honestly didn't expect many people to read due to the subject matter, but one that's near and dear to my heart.

Invictus - The bonkers, off-the-rails sequel to Shadow Over Solstheim in which Topsy discovers TES Lore in real time as they write. I don't think I could ever write something this free again even if I wanted to. I'm too burdened by knowledge (much like Teldryn).

4. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I try to respond to almost every comment, but sometimes I get stuck with Comment Paralysis and they just pile up in my inbox until I'm thoroughly overwhelmed. I read every single comment and blush and kick my feet excitedly, though.

5. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Hmmm... I don't really do angsty endings. I like pleasant, contented endings, sometimes bittersweet, sometimes open-ended. But I guess Dreamers, my Hadvar/Ralof fic as it currently stands, has the angstiest ending. At least until I manage to finish the final chapter...

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

Uhhhh... They're all pretty happy, from my perspective at least. Maybe Finding Mara takes home the gold for happiest ending. (Erandur takes home the gold, too -snerk-)

7. Do you write crossovers?

I have written exactly one crossover and it's the oldest fic on my AO3 (from 2014). Otherwise, they're fun to think about, but nah. Not really.

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

If you count an entire series of callout posts, years of harassment, and people jumping to conclusions over a fic they never even read, then the answer is yes.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yes. All kinds, but generally smut with a purpose. "Porn with plot" as they say. I write smut that zooms into the characters' heads, prys open their wants and desires and fears and insecurities. I write smut that can get a little hyper-realistic, to the point of sometimes being kind of gross. I write smut as a form of raw expression, people at their most vulnerable, literally stripped bare. It's one of my favorite things to write because it is an endless exercise in character study, in boundaries, in what it means to consent, and how the lines between who we think we are and what others perceive us to be get so easily blurred.

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

If I have, they've gotten away with it.

11. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes, once! Someone asked if they could translate the first chapter of Halfway to the Sky into Russian.

12. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes, back when I first joined the TES fandom. Two of my fandom bests at the time co-wrote a couple of stories with me. One is posted to AO3 (Ceasefire), and the other was a horny, whirlwind, feverdream of a fic that the other author and I mutually agreed we would probably never share with the greater world lol. We are still bests to this day and I often revisit that fic in awe and bafflement of our energy.

13. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

It's so tough to choose, honestly, but I gotta go with Neloth/Teldryn, because it just took me by surprise and spun out into something so wild and wonderful.

14. What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

I never say never with my WIPs. If I've learned anything over the past 5 years in this fandom, it's that I'll pick an old WIP up on a whim. I do wanna get back to my Arvel the Swift WIP at some point. I also started working on a Dark Brotherhood-centric fic last year, too. And so help me Talos I am going to finish Dreamers.

15. What are your writing strengths?

Dialogue. People talk in my head and I just write it down. It usually ends up sounding pretty natural. And pacing. I feel like I manage pacing pretty well and can make good calls as to when a scene is dragging or we need to skip forward in time a bit.

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

Wordiness. Relying too much on "feeling" words. Telling instead of showing more than I need to. Repetitive sentence structure. My goal in 2024 is to become more direct and succinct with my writing style.

17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

Eh... I've done it before. I threw in a lot of Dunmeris and Ta'agra back in the day when I was first writing TES fic, but I'd say just use italics and translate what's being said. Or, alternatively, if the POV character can't understand what's being said, don't even use dialogue, just mention that it's being spoken. It's all gobbledygook to them anyways.

18. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Yu Yu Hakusho (in 2004)

19. What’s a fandom/ship you haven’t written for yet but want to?

I'm monogamous with my fandom currently, so I'd really love to write something with Cicero, because it's been a long time coming.

20. What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

That's really hard to choose. They're all my favorite when I'm writing them. Each fic is its own little relationship for me. I don't write things unless I'm absolutely in love with what I'm writing. So they're all my favorite, in that sense.