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ewanmitchellconnoisseur · 10 months ago

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"𝑨𝒈𝒐𝒏𝒚" (Aemond x Reader)

A/N: I want to first say. I STRUGGLE with writing dialogue in different periods. So if I make this into a fic it is going to take me so long because I will have to read other people's stories and rewatch the show so the dialogue can be somewhat realistic. Hopefully, I do well...If not. Don't tell me shit. I don't wanna hear it. // Divider by @firefly-graphics

Summary: You return with your family to King's Landing to defend Lucerys against your uncle Vaemond but he is not the uncle you worry about. Your mind is filled with the man you were once betrothed to what he will say when he sees you, and how he will act. You worry about how your Uncle Aemond will treat you after all this time.

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Tw: Oral Sex (f receiving)

Word Count: 5.4k (an absolute fucking monstrosity written in a couple hours)

"Would say it's nice to be home but I scarcely recognize it." Daemon hums slightly before walking around looking at every bit of the wall in disgust. Rhaenyra turns to you and your brothers. "I trust you three will stay out of trouble while we go visit your grandsire?"

Your brothers nod their heads as you all take your turn to look over what was once your home. It feels...darker than it did when you lived here, almost abandoned. If it was not for the servants walking around you would think it was.

Rhaenyra and Daemon walk away leaving you and your brothers.

"Come on. I want to see if that hole is still in the wall in the training yard." Luke rolls his eyes at the stupid memory which makes you smile. You follow after them as they try to recall the way there.

You don't listen to their conversation as Jace points out the hole that still remains. You can barely pay attention to anything anyone is saying. Your brain has been in panic mode since the moment you were told you would be returning here.

Scared to face your previous betrothed. You feel someone's hands wrap around yours and snap you out of your thoughts.

"Are you alright?" Luke says softly and looks at you worriedly. You nod and ruffle his hair with a smile.

"Im fine. Just...feels weird being back." He doesn't let go of your hand. You notice as he looks around at all the people staring at him and Jace. It had always been like this, people often compared you to your brothers in how different you looked. How you carried Targaryen features while they resembled Harwin Strong.

Unknown to you or your brothers at the time Rhaenyra and Laenor did truly try to conceive at least one trueborn child. But in the end, it was all too uncomfortable for them. It was only on their second try did they attempt it in another way. Laenor at first stayed in the room alone getting himself just before his peak so that when Rhaenyra came in all he had to do was empty himself inside of her. That one time resulted in you. The only child related to Laenor in both blood and name.

Jace comes and pulls Luke away to watch a fight you couldn't care less about. You walked around the yard looking at the various weapons laid out. You knew that you could fight far better than most of the men here, having been trained by Daemon himself.

Bored by the dusty swords and daggers you turn to watch the fight from the other side. Your heart dropped into your ass as you see the man before you.

He was tall...you always thought he would be. His hair sadly no longer carried those curls that once coiled around your fingers as he read to you. An eyepatch sat over his eye breaking your heart as you recalled the night.

"Get off of him!" "Stop it, Jace!" "Don't hurt him!"

You clamped your eyes closed wanting to fight off the painful memory. You were weak then, unable to help. You couldn't protect him in any way that mattered.

The claps of everyone around you had you opening your eyes once more. You watched as Aemond bested Criston in a duel.

"Well done, my prince, You'll be winning tourneys in no time."

"I don't give a shit about tourneys. Nephews...have you come to train?" You see the look on Luke's face and you feel bad for him. He and Jace had spent most of their time trying to learn High Valyrian and barely picked up a sword unless forced to. Aemond had clearly spent all his time training since the accident.

"Open the gates!" Everyone turns to watch as the guards open the gates and men carrying the banners of Velaryon walk in. You walk over to your brothers and hold onto Luke's hands as Vaemond passes by staring Luke down. Vamond's expression only softens as he looks at you and he offers you a warm smile.

The same smile he had given you at Laena's funeral as he took the opportunity to call your brother's bastards in such a sad time. You hear Luke audibly gulp and you try to soothe him by running your fingers over his knuckles.

"Let's go inside." You place a hand on Jace's back to calm him down as you notice the look of anger on his face at the sight of Vaemond.

As you turn to enter the Red Keep your eyes automatically land on Aemond who now wears an expression you can't quite place. His eyes are only on you and for a moment it feels like there's only you two but Jace is quick to step in front of your view and to give Aemond a look you can't see. Whatever it is has him turning around in anger and returning to sparring with Criston.

You walk with Rhaenyra and Rhaena towards Rhaenys.

"Grandmother" Rhaena calls out and basically runs over to her. You follow behind her.

"Rhaena..." Rhaena stands before her as Rhaenys holds her hand. You step beside her and Rhaenys looks over to you. She steps forward and places a hand on your cheek. "You two have grown beautifully." She kisses both of your cheeks.

"Baela said you might be here." Your mother comes closer, each step wary. "She's done well as your ward. You've um... raised her admirably." Rhaenys doesn't look over and keeps her eyes trained on both you and Rhaena.

"You honour me, Princess." Rhaenys smiles softly at Rhaenyra.

"Might I speak to the Princess alone, girls?" Rhaena looks to your grandmother almost for permission. She nods and lets go of both of you.

"Princess." Rhaena begins to walk away. You give your grandmother another kiss on the cheek before leaving.

Rhaenyra smiles at you as you walk away to join Rhaena.

"What do you think they're talking about?" You both look back once more before heading inside.

"I have no idea." You look at your mother who steps closer to your grandmother. Rhaene takes your arm and you turn to her. "Come. Let us go find the boys."

That night it rained and the sound of thunder filled your old chambers. His face filled your memories. His voice echoed in your ears.

"Can I kiss you Aemond?" Your fingertips ran over the dip of his lips as you imagined what they would feel like on yours."You never have to ask Princess."

You touch your lips at the memory of your first kiss. The only kiss you ever got to share with him. How soft his kiss was, how gentle he was. Your lips yearned for another kiss. Your body begs for his warmth and your heart breaks. It breaks at the memory of when your betrothal was cancelled when you knew the future you both talked about would never happen.

"How many children will we have?" Your head lay in his lap as he read a book, his fingers twirling your hair as you pick the petals of a flower. "As many as you are willing to bear me, Princess." You blush brightly which only brings a smile to his face. But your brain always knows how to ruin the moment as a new thought plagues your mind."Would you be angry at me if I had a girl first?" Aemond closes his book and looks down at you. "I could never be angry at you."

You sat up in your bed to the sound of a knock at the door. Your hands roughly smooth over your head pushing your hair back as if it wipes away the memories and dreams.

How can one live like this? How can one continue on in life like this? He is in every breath you take, every time you close your eyes his face decorates the darkness that you simply wish would consume you. You are reminded of him in every waking moment of your life.

Another knock comes to your chamber doors and you know you have no choice but to start your day. You sweat at the thought of seeing him again.

Will he keep to his words? Will he not be angry with you for being gone for so long? For not sending any letters? You did not want to find out. In truth you just want to stay in your chambers all day and sleep, but for the sake of Luke you would attend the hearing.

"The crown will now hear the petitions." Otto sits on the throne as his voice echoes throughout the hall. "Ser Vaemond of House Velaryon."

Vaemond steps forward as everyone looks towards him. Everyone but Aemond. You can see him in the corner of your eye his gaze is focused on you. Never looking away, never taking a break.

You stand next to Daemon looking forward. Knowing that if you even willed your eyes to move it would land on him. And you couldn't bear to look at him.

"My Queen. My Lord Hand." Vaemond then goes on to talk about the history and the days of Old Valyria. You can't hear him, you can't hear anything once more over the beating of your heart.

"Iksis bisa iā qogror iā elekor?" [Is this a class or a hearing?] Daemon whispers to you. He notices your rigid stance and how you're taking in shallow breaths. He places a hand on your elbow and you look over to him. He gives you a look of "Are you ok?" to which you nod.

He returns back to staring Vaemond down hoping he will eventually burn holes into the side of his head and will fall dead where he stands but not everyone is that lucky. It is only then that he notices a one-eye fucker staring in his direction. He shifts his gaze and notices Aemond staring at you. Aemond can feel someone looking at him and looking towards Daemon before pressing his lips in a thin line and giving Vaemond his attention.

"As it does in my sons and daughter, the offspring of Laenor Velaryon." You are snapped out of your thoughts at the sound of your mother's voice. You look over to her. "If you cared so much about your house's blood Ser Vaemond, you would not be so bold as to supplant its rightful hair." Vaemond holds a look of anger towards her. "No, you only speak for yourself. and for your own ambition."

"You will have a chance to make your own petition Princess Rhaenyra." You look towards Alicent. "Do Ser Vaemond the courtesy of allowing his to be heard." Next to her, you see the smirks of both Aegon and Aemond. You know they enjoy this, seeing Luke be openly called a bastard.

Why are your brothers blamed and dragged through the mud for what your mother has done? Are they not innocent in their own conceivement?

Vaemond gives Alicent a slight nod before turning towards your family.

"What do you know of Velaryon blood, Princess?" He speaks to your mother in a condescending tone. "I could cut my veins and show it to you, and you still wouldn't recognize it."

Your heart twinges for your mother. You feel conflicted all the time. On one hand, your brothers are indeed not blood-related to your father. But he had accepted them as his sons publicly no doubt. What could he have done for people to recognize them as his children? On the other hand, Vaemond proves a point in matters of blood. But is it not the last names people remember?

They both ride dragons, and they learn the tongue of the dragon. They are everything Targaryen but in matters of looks and blood. But that is more than enough for people to shun them. You want to side with them with your full heart, but how can you when you understand the opposition's points?

"King Viserys of House Targaryen, the First of His Name, King of the andals and the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm."

You look up in awe as you watch your grandsire slowly walk into the room. The only sound was the tapping of his cane against the floor. You had not seen him in so long, he looked so old and different. Hunched over and in pain.

You watch as he makes his way up to the throne and Daemon aids him. Otto moves over to stand next to Alicent and you can see the confusion and anger on his face. His plans are ruined and whatever chance he had at getting the Velaryons on their side is squandered.

"I must...admit...my confusion." Your grandsire breathes quickly as he tries to regain his strength. "I do not understand why petitions are being heard over a settled succession." You listen as he calls for your grandmother to speak.

You feel hot. This room feels hot. You pull repeatedly at the band on your wrist. A coping mechanism you developed when you felt so far away from everything. You snap the band against your wrist as you listen to your grandmother who only further pushes for Corly's wishes for Lucerys to be the next Lord of the Tides. You miss her announcing the marriage between your brothers and cousins.

You can't focus. He is still staring at you. You make the mistake of closing your eyes cause when you open them they are on him. You take in a sharp breath and stare back at him. Your heart feels as though someone is squeezing it, your chest heavy as if a dragon sits atop it. You want nothing more than to go over there but you keep your feet planted.

"That is no true Velaryon." You jump slightly looking towards your uncle as he angrily points at Luke. "and certainly no nephew of mine." Your mother tells your brothers to head to their chambers before attempting to silence Vaemond.

"You can not all be blind surely? To look upon both my grandniece and her sons and think they share the same father?" Everyone looks at you and for a moment you wish you could shrink into the walls, fade into the people behind you. "She even skips her daughter so that her son could inherit Driftmark when it belongs to my niece. She wishes to cover her tracks and erase my niece's future." You've never felt that way. You were never upset at your mother's decisions. Maybe you always assumed you'd end up with Aemond. "Gods be damned...I will not see it ended on the account of this-" Your eyes widen as you realize what he wishes to say.

You feel a heat radiate beside you and notice the body language of Daemon has changed. A hand rests on his sword as his head is cocked to the side.

"Say it." He whispers softly. Vaemond gives Daemon a smug look.

"Her sons...are BASTARDS! And she...is...a whore." Everyone gasps and you notice the heat beside you is missing. You watch as King Viserys unsheaths his dagger and calls for your uncle's tongue.

You then hear a thud and turn and see Vaemond's body hit the floor. His head was cut off at the mouth, his tongue still attached. Much happens in those moments but your eyes stay on Vaemond's body. It is only when your mother places a hand on your cheek you look away.

"Go with your grandmother. She might need comfort."

You stand next to Rhaenys, holding her hand as the silent sisters work on your uncle.

"Did you ever feel that way, little ocean?" You look over to her as her eyes are trained upon his seperated head. "As if your mother was trying to erase you?"

"No, grandmother. To be honest. I had always imagined myself living here, in the Red Keep." You looked around the room watching the sisters move slowly and carefully.

"Married to Aemond." Your quick to look back towards her she offers you a faint smile before turning to you. "Come back with me, to Driftmark. Your grandsire would love to see you and I have missed your presence." You nod, not caring to say that you should ask the permission of your mother and father.

The Grand Maester walks over and speaks. You stare at the body of your uncle once more. Is this justice? He called your mother a whore and your brother bastards...but was he wrong?

"The Stranger has visited me more times than I can count, Grand Maester." You feel her squeeze your hand. "I assure you, he cares little whether my eyes are open or closed." You watch as he leaves. "You should go, little ocean. Your grandsire wishes for you to eat with your family."

"Will you not dine with us?" You brush your fingers against her hand.

"I fear I have lost my appetite." She kisses your head. "We will take our leave on the morrow." You nod before leaving the room with a final look towards your uncle.

As you enter the dining hall your family is already there. The table already has its sides. On the right sit your mother and your family and on the left sit the Queen and hers. The separation hurts you and you wish you could do something about it. Mend it in whatever way possible. You would give your own life if it meant uniting your family.

Jacerys offers his seat so you can sit next to Baela and he moves to her other side. The switch puts you next to Aegon but you do not mind. He has never been one to bother you before, and only ever makes small jokes, which you would never admit to his face, can be funny.

"Mother?" Rhaenyra turns in her chair towards you.

"Yes, my heart?" She places a hand on your arm you smile at the name. Each one of you had one, Jace was often referred to as her love, Luke as her sweet boy, and you her heart.

"Grandmother has requested I return with her to Driftmark... I'd like to. To see grandsire, if that is all right with you." She smiles softly and brings your hand to her lips as she kisses it.

"Of course." You hear the doors open and see your grandsire being carried in. "We will talk more later. Go sit." You walk over to your chair and stand until he is placed in his spot.

As you walk over you look up and see his eyes on you once more. He stands at the head of the table watching you. You sit only when you notice everyone else does and clasp your hands together when Alicent calls for prayer. You've read about the Seven and know only as much as books taught you. You hear Alicent's prayer but you pray your own. You ask The Warrior and The Smith to give you strength, you beg for forgiveness from The Maiden for your thoughts and acknowledge The Stranger, for you both feel like outcasts in this world.

"This is an occasion for celebration, it seems. My grandsons Jace and Luke, will marry their cousins Baela and Rhaena." It is only then that you feel the weight of his gaze lift, as he looks at your brother on the other end of the table. Your grandsire calls for a toast to your brothers. He calls for another toast for Lucerys as the future Lord of the Tides.

"I also want to say. How beautifully my granddaughter has grown." You feel the eyes of everyone turn to you, and your mother smiles. Even Alicent gives you a genuine gentle smile. "Im sure by your next nameday we will have found a suitable match for your hand. Let us toast in hopes you will find someone deserving of you." Everyone raises their glass.

But it is only Aemond who does not. You watch as Aegon leans over you towards Baela.

"He does know how the act is done, I assume? At least in principle. Where to put your cock and all that?"

"Let it be cousin," Baela responds clearly annoyed. Jace responds but you don't hear it whatever he says has Aegon sitting back down fully in his seat.

You stare forward as King Viserys makes a speech. You return to snapping the band against your wrist as you again feel the heat of his stare. Words are shared between the Queen and your mother before Aegon gets up and sets himself in between Baela and Jace.

"I, um I regret the disappointment you are soon to suffer. But if you ever wish to know what it is to be well satisfied, all you have to do is ask-" Jace bangs his hands on the table before standing up which leads to Aemond standing up as well ready to protect his brother if need be.

Aegon sits down quickly next to you. More speeches go on, too many speeches. You wish everyone would just shut up so we can all be done with this dinner. Either that or let us remove our masks and speak the truth. You have grown tired of this tension and fake genuineness.

You remain next to Aegon as food is brought out and Jace takes Helaena to dance. You can see the look on his face. He looks over your family with a sort of longing. Everything he has ever wanted on display in front of him.

"Would you care to dance uncle?" He looks over to you with a surprised look on his face. He puts down his cup and is about to put out his hand when someone clears their throat. You look over to the noise and see Aemond staring at the two of you.

"Not if I wish to lose my head." He picks his cup back up and returns to watching everyone. You look over to Aemond who only stares at you with no emotion.

You watch as guards walk over to your grandsire and take him away. You make a plan in your head to go visit him tonight to speak to him.

The mood is only spoiled as a pig is placed in front of Aemond. You hear the light chuckles of Luke and curse him in your head. You flinch as Aemond's hand bangs the table and he stands up picking up his cup.

"Final tribute. To the health of my nephews: Jace...Luke...and Joffrey. Each of them handsome, wise..." And in that pause alone you feel that separation between families grow. "...strong. Come...let us drain our cups to these three strong boys."

"I dare you say that again." You tense as Jace speaks already being able to tell where this is going.

"Why? 'Twas only a compliment." Aemond lowers his cups and walks over to Jace. "Do you not think yourself strong?" Jace punches Aemond...or...attempts to. Aemond still stands unwavering and not a drop spilt from his cup.

Aegon grabs Luke who tries to walk over to help Jace and slams his head on the table. You stand up and walk over to Aegon and pull his hair, yanking his head back. He releases Luke and only smiles up at you. You put him in the same position he had your brother in, slamming his head against the table and holding him down until guards come and step in between you two.

You remain standing at the chairs as the sides are made once more. You stand somewhat in the middle. Jace attempts to run back over to Aemond but Daemon steps in front of him.

"Go to your quarters. All of you go now." Your siblings and cousins leave but you remain still standing in your spot. You watch as Aemond and Daemon stare at each other silently. Aemond then turns to you and so does everyone else, he looks at you and then hums to himself as he walks out of the room.

"Come little rogue." Daemon puts his arm out for you. You take his arm, your mother pats your cheek and you follow him out of the room.

You sit in your mother and Daemon's chambers caring for young Aegon and Viserys along with a couple of maids.

Your mother walks in and takes a seat next to Daemon.

"I will see the boys home. Then I will return on dragonback." She holds Daemon's hand.

"Just the boys?" He asks looking over at you.

"Grandmother has asked me to return with her and Baela to Driftmark." He nods.

"Head to bed rogue." You nod and stand up walking over to your parents. You kiss your mother's cheek and place a hand on her stomach before walking past Daemon and pulling on the small ponytail in his hair softly and leaving the room.

Daemon watches as you leave with a smirk on his face and waits until the door is closed to speak.

"Did you see the way he looked at her?" Rhaenyra is taken aback by Daemon's tone. He stands up and paces.

"Who, my love?" She rubs her belly as she watches her children play.

"Aemond." He scowls. "He's been looking at her since we arrived as if he wants to take her where she stands. Which is impressive since the fucker only has one eye." he sits back down.

"They were once betrothed Daemon. Before that, they were closer than any of the kids. They spent all their free time together." She smirks at her husbands's protectiveness. It didn't take long for him to see you as one of his own daughters.

"We should discuss her future marriage. Maybe it's time we start looking for a husband for her." Rhaenyra nods.

"We will speak to her about it when she returns from Driftmark. Vaemond was right about one thing...she is being erased...I had not realized I was doing that." Daemon took her hand and placed the other on her bump.

"That fucker didn't know what he was talking about. You are a great mother to her, and she has had no complaints about her inheritance." She knows he's right.

"Nonetheless. If there is one thing I can give her is a choice. She will decide who she marries. I would feel better knowing it's a man of her own choosing."

Your handmaids leave the room once you're finished being dressed for bed. You sit in front of your vanity staring at yourself.

When had you become someone you didn't recognize? When did you begin just walking the earth instead of living on it? When had you become so...lonely.

You walk over to the balcony and step outside. Pulling your robe tighter to your body against the cold air. You close your eyes and though you aren't sure who it is you are speaking to you beg them to help you. To bring you happiness and peace.

"Mandianna" You hear him from behind you. You turn around slowly and see him standing inside your room. You slowly walk in and close the balcony doors behind you, locking them.

"...Aemond..." You move to take another step to him but he raises a hand.

"For as long as I can remember you...Not a day has gone by when I haven't thought of you." You take a deep breath as he speaks. "And now that you're here...I'm in agony." He takes a step towards you. "The closer I get to you, the worse it gets. The thought of not being with you...I can't breathe." He stops in front of you a hand on your cheek. "I'm haunted by the kiss that you should never have given me. My heart is beating, hoping that that kiss will not become a scar." He lowers his head so he hovers just above your lips. "You are in my very soul, tormenting me...what can I do? I will do anything you ask."

You stare up into his eyes and feel drawn into them. You drown in them putting up no fight. Wanting to feel that darkness that has followed you all these years surround you.

"Kiss me." And he does and it is everything you've imagined. You give him full reign and kisses you with the same intensity that a drowning man comes up for air.

When he finally pulls away he admires your bruised lips and brushes the tears from your eyes.

"Aemond...I have grieved for what we could have been...so much time has passed. And our families have only grown farther apart." He kisses the side of your cheek.

"But what is grief if not love persevering?" He wraps his arms around your waist pulling you right against him as his eyes meet yours. "I have yet to meet another soul who is fluent in my language..but you? You are fluent in me." You place your hands on his chest. "Marry me. In the tradition of our ancestors. Let my blood become yours, and yours mine." You see the hope in his eyes.

"And what of our families?" They would never accept this." You try to pull away but he holds you tight against him.

"I refuse to sacrifice the one person who sees me for who I am for a family who barely sees me for the mask I wear." He leads you towards your bed and sits you down at the edge of it before sitting before you on his knees. "You are mine. You were always meant to be mine."

His hands trail up your legs as a smirk spreads over his face.

"Aemond. We can't." He pushes up your nightgown while kissing his way up your legs.

"I will not spoil you. I will only wish for a preview of what will be mine." He pushes your dress up all the way and pulls down your small clothes. He pulls your legs over his shoulder as he lowers himself in between your thighs.

He wastes no time drinking you up. His tongue tastes whatever he can, his nose brushing against your bud softly. His tongue stiffens inside of you as he finds that place his brother had told him about. It has you lying down covering your mouth.

"Ae-Aemond..." He moans against your cunt in pleasure at your moans of his name. "Please..." you're unsure of what it is you are begging for but whatever it is you know you need it.

He brings a finger to better rub your bud as he fucks you with his tongue. He can feel you clenching and watches as you're soon arching off of the bed holding on to his hair.

The feeling is unlike anything you've experienced. A large opposite from how dark you have been feeling. You feel lighter as if pent-up energy has been released.

He gives your bud one last kiss before walking away and returning with a wet cloth. He wipes his face first before gently cleaning you. When he's done you sit up and he sits next to you pulling you into his lap.

You feel how hard he is below you and move so your legs are wrapped around his torso. You grind down on him and he looks up at you holding on to your hips. The friction against your bud only builds back up that feeling in your stomach. You kiss Aemond as he continues to guide you so you're grinding down on him. He picks up speed his mouth agape.

Without saying anything you reach and pull the eye patch off of him. Aemond stops and looks away hiding his face. You place a hand on his cheek and turn him back to you.

"Gevie." You kiss his scar gently and admire the sapphire that replaces his eye. He returns to grinding you down on him lewd thoughts fuelling his actions. His breaths become louder and you even hear a gentle moan from him.

"Fuck~" you feel him stiffen beneath you. He presses his forehead against your chest pulling you flush against him.

"I will speak to my mother and even my father. If they say no. I will come for you and only then will I fuck you and mark my name into your wet cunt so that they will have no choice but to marry us."

He kisses you again. You taste yourself on his tongue.

"You say that as if the breaking of Princess' maidenheads has not been hidden before. They could easily give me to someone who would not care."

"To that...mandianna. I tell you that idiots are highly flammable...and we ride dragons..." He kisses your exposed chest.

"I say...let them burn."

A/N: This was for the girls who dream of marrying a prince and end up falling for the misunderstood villain.

I have thought of doing another part or turning this into a mini-series at least. But for now, this is just a one-shot.

Shoutout to the Star Wars Anakin monologue that fueled me to write this anyway.

Taglist: @thought--bubble @valeskafics @dixie-elocin

#ewan mitchell verse #ewan nation #ewanverse #ewan mitchell #ewan mitchell fanfic #aemond targaryen smut #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen #aemond x oc #aemond fanfiction #aemond x reader #hotd aemond #prince aemond targaryen #prince aemond #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x reader

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ivymarquis · 6 months ago

Text

Say You Won't Let Go

Last House on the Right

Pairing| John Price x F!Single Mom!Reader Rating| E Word Count| 1.1k Kinks/Content/Warnings| Post Apocalypse!AU, Single Mom!verse, pregnant reader, mentions of pregnancy related eating issues + vomiting, Reader's got some separation issues. Fair warning this is so half baked I haven't even decided what kind of apocalypse it is, but somehow Ive got a whole plotline regardless.Same pairing as my fic Blind Date

Next Chapter

You can’t believe your luck.

You’re not sure what exactly it was about this house in the dead of night that had you so transfixed, but your intuition has paid off in spades.

The area’s been abandoned, to your knowledge leaving you the sole inhabitant meandering around.

Or maybe waddling would be a more apt description.

Fear and uncertainty of the outside hurry you along into the house. Most everyone- the survivors- has splintered off into groups. There’s no evidence of anyone still living here (admittedly it’s not like you’ve taken the time to check every room, but there are signs when a house is inhabited), but you luck out that the cabinets haven’t been picked over.

It’s been entirely too long since your last meal, and it takes a good amount of restraint to not devour the can of ravioli too quickly.

As much as you’re tempted, you know there’s a fine line between what will and won’t have you immediately throwing up in the sink- grazing seems to keep the worst of the upset down.

There’s no hospitals to jaunt off to if you end up dehydrated. Excessive vomiting is not ideal post end of days.

If you were in your right mind- not frightened, isolated, starving, cold- and not focusing on how the unheated chef boyardee might as well be a five star michelin meal for all you can think right now, you might have been paying more attention.

The sound of a safety clicking off behind you freezes your blood far more than the cold. That sound is deliberate. Whoever’s behind you- gun pointed at you- wants you to know they got the jump on you.

“Hands where I can see them,” the order is gruffly barked at you.

You feel stupid. Of course all of this was too convenient for you to simply be catching a break. It wasn’t exactly well lit and designed to draw you in- but you’re an animal caught in a trap regardless.

The fork clatters against the counter next to the can as you go to comply.

“Turn around. Slowly.”

You’re not much of a threat in your current condition. That much is obvious.

Time stopped having any sort of tangible meaning a while ago. You should know how many weeks you are, but the days run together fending for yourself and you just know that you’re close. There’s no hiding the swell of your belly.

The man at the doorway looks as gruff as he sounds. Your mind spins like a tire in mud to process everything in front of you in the poor moonlight. Military, that much is obvious. You’re not actually sure if that’s a good thing. Handsome from what you can see, though historically your type has been men who don’t have a weapon leveled at you.

The taciturn expression on his face falters when he spots your bump, but you’ve learned by now to not expect any sort of special treatment.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize immediately. “I-I didn’t know anyone was here. I’ll leave, I swear.”

He looks at you another moment before a look of resignation washes over him.

“Turn back around. Keep your hands up.” Oh God. Your mind immediately goes to the worst- That this man, for whatever reason, has decided that your infraction has signed your death warrant. That he can’t quite bring himself to fire on a pregnant woman staring him in the eyes, so the last thing you’re ever going to see is some tacky wallpaper and ugly cabinets.

You yelp when one of his hands finds the pistol on your hip. Holy shit you didn’t even hear him cross the room.

“Easy, love,” he soothes as he starts to frisk you for more weapons. “Not gonna hurt you. You have anything else on you?”

“A knife in my back pocket.” It doesn’t even occur to you to lie; putting yourself in his good graces is your only option and you can’t do that by lying.

His hands slip under your jacket, the hem oversized and hanging even with your arms up, making a wrong guess at the first pocket he checks before grabbing the knife out of the second one.

“Anyone going to come sniffing around looking for you?” A fair question, but one that sticks like a knife between your ribs.

The “No,” that escapes you is softer than you meant it to be, voice warbling as you try not to cry.

Hormones would have had you on the verge of tears at any given point, and that would have been before the end of the world and before your group abandoned you. You’re well entitled to your tears, you think, but try to stuff them back down anyway.

“You’re out here alone,” he grouses, sounding like he doesn’t believe you. The like this? is implied.

Your arms are still up, and they’re getting tired. Everything tires you out these days.

Like he can read your mind, he releases you with a “you can set your arms down now, love.”

“Thank you,” you’re in full fawn mode, turning to face him. While he’s clearly decided against killing you, you’ve been scared and alone for the past few days and you really don’t want to be separated from the only person who will give you the time of day right now.

“Is there anyone else here? Other soldiers?” Your fate is sealed and lies in the soldier’s hands regardless of his answer.

Nothing with change, no matter what he says, but you think you’re less intimidated if it’s just the two of you.

The world’s gone to hell in a handbasket, and yet you’ll never forget watching 28 days later when the line I promised them women was dropped.

“Got separated from my team.”

He turns away from you, gesturing to follow him out of the kitchen and towards the living room.

He’s limping.

You haven’t seen him move until now. You’re more an expert on busted hardware than busted body parts, you can’t tell if it’s a fresh injury that’s still healing, or an old one that’s set in place.

“They left you.” They left me, too.

“They didn’t leave me for dead, they think I am dead. Gonna take a bit more than that to get the job done, though.”

You have no reason not to believe him. Despite having just met him, the man is like a living manifestation of everything masculinity is supposed to be- down to the surly attitude despite him herding you further into the house. It doesn’t take much to figure out that he’s tough as nails and sure why not flirt in death’s face that her last attempt wasn’t good enough?

You sit on the couch he points to, as he settles into the leather chair across from you.

“Christ what’d I’d do for a fucking smoke right now,” he mumbles, pawing at his chest absent mindedly on reflex.

You mean to sit stiff as a board, but your body is tired and the couch is surprisingly comfortable.

The soldier, however, sits like he owns the house. “And now for the question of what to do with you.”

#john price x reader #price x you #captain john price #apocalypse #pregnant reader #x single mom reader #my writing

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cakesunflower · 3 months ago

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lovelorn (and nobody knows) [rafe cameron au fic] chapter 8

Summary: Isla Carrera had planned for the summer before college to be focused on three things: helping out at her family’s restaurant (the helpful daughter), preparing for college (the good student), and having fun with the Pogues (the loyal friend). But one fateful night, where her car breaks down and her rescuer is none other than Rafe Cameron, seems to send her summer down a path she didn’t see coming–one teeming with a secret, illicit romance with the last person she expected. And if her friends and sister found out, Isla isn’t sure they’ll be so understanding, no matter what her feelings are.

A/N: Slightly shorter chap, but I promise the next one makes it worth it hehehe

The sun is bright in the cloudless sky above, the occasional seagull soaring and squawking by. With sunglasses covering her eyes, Isla gets away with gazing absently at the sky, the sounds of her friends around her bleeding into the background as she basks in the warmth of the sunlight, letting out a breath. Except Isla can’t bring herself to enjoy much of anything, at the moment, because her mind has been preoccupied with her conversation with Rafe back at the country club. It settles in her stomach like a rock, unmoving and sending a bad taste to her mouth, and she knows the only way to make it better is to talk to Rafe and apologize to him.

As expected, when she and JJ showed up to the Chateau, their friends had been indignant at the sight of his black eye, demanding to know what happened. To Isla’s secret relief, JJ had told them the truth about his dad, but she did note the hint of shame that weighed his tone when he spoke. She hates that he feels as though he needs to be ashamed of the abuse he suffers from because of Luke, and more than anything, Isla hates Luke for laying a finger on JJ. Anytime he gets hurt at the hands of his dad, JJ just laughs or brushes it off, never wanting his friends to worry. But they’re family, more than they are friends, and of course Isla and the others are pissed on his behalf. There’s a reason JJ has his own room in the Chateau. JJ is a lot of things, but he will never be abandoned by his friends.

And Isla is certain if she ever lays eyes on Luke Maybank again, she’s going to call the cops on the spot.

Sighing, Isla props herself up on her elbow, grabbing the can of beer sitting on the floor of the boat and taking a long sip of the cool drink. Pope sits at the front of the boat, reading, while the others are in the water, swimming around the boat.

She lays back down, the surface warm under her back, loosening another breath as she lets her eyes fall shut. Except Pope suddenly says, “That’s the third time you’ve sighed in two minutes.”

Isla raises herself up on her elbows again, arching an eyebrow at him. “Why are you keeping track of my sighs?” she counters.

“Why is your vibe so melancholy?” Pope shoots back without hesitation, pulling a glare from Isla. He puts his book down on his lap, the brim of his cap shielding his eyes from the sun. “Seriously. You’ve been a little off since you got here. Everything good?”

Isla’s chest tightens because she knows Pope means well, but she also knows she definitely can’t tell him about why she’s been so in her head. Her lips part, trying to think of something. “I—”

“Is it because of Luke?” Pope carries on, not hearing her, but it’s the perfect excuse for Isla to latch onto—especially because it’s partially true, anyway.

“Yeah,” she nods, clearing her throat lightly as she sits up, back to the water as she leans down to grab her beer.

Pope shakes his head, his gaze drifting towards the water. She follows his gaze to watch JJ, Kie, John B, and Sarah playing chicken in the water as Cleo both referees and records it on Sarah’s small pink digital camera. “Is it too much to ask for him to disappear out of JJ’s life for good?” Pope mutters as they watch the grin spread on JJ’s face, his hands gripping Kie’s thighs as she sits on his shoulders.

“Probably,” Isla mumbles into her next sip of beer, her gaze dropping to her phone sitting next to her.

Her fingers itch to reach for it, to send a message to Rafe. But what could she even say? I’m sorry for assuming you punched one of my best friends? She is sorry, but from the way Rafe had looked at her—with disappointment, hurt, and maybe even a little resignation—Isla has a feeling that simply words weren’t going to work. With the way her and Rafe’s relationship was rapidly changing—hell, from going to being nonexistent to whatever it is now—it never should’ve even been a thought to cross her mind. But it was, and she feels guilty about it and makes a mess of her already befuddled feelings.

One thing is for sure: Isla doesn’t want this budding change between her and Rafe to be ended before it even has the chance to begin.

“Hey—don’t stress out about it,” Pope says, cutting into her thoughts. His words have her blinking rapidly behind her sunglasses, bewildered, before quickly realizing he is, of course, talking about JJ and his dad. Because that’s what Pope thinks is bothering her. Pope shoots her a smile. “JJ’ll be alright. He’s got us, right?”

Isla smiles, somehow both forced yet not. “Right,” she agrees, and it might be the only purely honest thing she’s said in this conversation that doesn’t have a braid of lies hidden underneath.

Because, of course, her situation with Rafe isn’t one she can talk about with any of her friends. This is one problem she’s going to have to solve on her own.

Finishing the rest of her beer, Isla gets up and walks to the other end of the boat, opposite of Pope, and steps up on the ledge. The water glitters under the afternoon sun and a second later, Isla dives in, the water blissfully cool against her skin as she is submerged.

When Isla breaks through the surface with a gasp, she wipes the water away from her face, slicking her wet hair back as she stays afloat under the warm sun. Unfortunately, the cooling dip did nothing to wash away the thoughts of Rafe and how she no doubt upset him, and Isla sighs as she floats on her back, arms treading water as she slips her eyes shut.

All she sees is the hurt in Rafe’s eyes, and Isla knows she needs to figure out how to make things better sooner rather than later.

*****

Isla fiddles with the thin chain of the gold bracelet around her wrist as her mom’s SUV pulls into the parking lot of the country club, tall lamps illuminating the area under the night sky. The blast of the air condition raises goosebumps on her arms, the skin exposed due to the gown she has on. It’s satin, like Kie’s, except while Kie’s is a pale lavender with spaghetti straps, Isla’s is a dusty pink with a sweetheart neckline and is off the shoulders, the thick straps hanging around her biceps, and a slit going up her right leg. And while Kie’s hair is done up and a flower crown adorns her head, Isla’s hair is styled down in waves, locks of hair threaded together in a braid to pull them back behind her head with tiny white daisies woven into them.

It had taken her and Kie a few hours to get ready for Midsummers, but while Kie had bemoaned looking like a bourgeoisie pig, Isla had quite liked what she saw when she looked in the mirror. For the first time in a few days, she actually felt good and her sister’s hatred of Midsummers wasn’t going to dampen her mood.

Because for the past couple of days, Isla hasn’t gotten the chance to talk to Rafe, and that had fucked with her mood more than she had expected it to. Her messages to him remained unread, and she hasn’t seen him around that much, either, over the course of the last few days. The whole situation is strange because, God, only a little while ago if she had insulted Rafe, she wouldn’t necessarily care; she definitely wouldn’t lose sleep over it. But embarrassment and guilt constantly have her up in knots, unsure of what to say to Rafe other than apologize to him. Which she has, multiple times, in their messages, but he hasn’t responded.

Isla hopes that he’s going to be at Midsummers tonight and somehow, someway, with Kie and Sarah and Pope all there, she can find a way to get Rafe alone and talk to him. Face to face, so he can’t ignore her.

The back garden area of the club is decorated beautifully for Midsummers, with string lights illuminating the place, waiters wandering around holding trays of flutes of champagne, and a live band set up on the side playing music that doesn’t overwhelm the atmosphere. The first half an hour or so is spent mingling with the other guests while Isla’s eyes keep darting around in search of Rafe yet never catching sight of him, disappointingly enough.

Even when they meet with the Camerons, it’s only Sarah, her dad, and step-mom that Isla sees, and she tries not to frown too obviously at the fact that Rafe is still missing. Holy hell, why is it so difficult to track him down when she needs to? They’ve been constantly running into each other, and the one time she needs to talk to him, he’s nowhere to be seen. Frustration mounts, but Isla pastes a smile onto her face, even when Kie grabs hers and Sarah’s arms and pulls them along to go to Pope.

The grass is soft beneath Isla’s heels as she lets her sister pull her, though that doesn’t keep her gaze from wandering, searching. “Don’t you three look snazzy,” Pope comments once they get to where he’s standing, grinning at them.

Kie’s face scrunches. “We look like sacrificial pigs,” she drolls with a roll of her eyes.

Trying to focus on the conversation, Isla bumps Kie’s hip with her own and says, “We do look snazzy, shush.”

“And it’s the one time we can drink without our parents giving us shit for it,” Sarah adds with a twinkle in her eye, grinning.

“Speaking of which. . .” Pope says, smiling as he looks over their shoulders.

Isla and the girls turn, watching JJ approach them in a classy waiter uniform that he no doubt refers to as a penguin suit, carrying a round tray of champagne flutes. Despite his own Kook related irritation, JJ grins, his bruises fading, and holds the tray out. “Drinks for the ladies?”

“Don’t mind if I do,” Isla mutters, taking one of the glasses and immediately taking a long sip, only becoming aware of her friends’ surprised and amused expressions when she pulls the glass away from her lips. “What?” she asks, slightly defensive.

Pope arches an eyebrow. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” Isla says with a laugh, hoping it doesn’t sound as forced as it feels. “Just here to enjoy the night.”

“This feels so pretentious,” Kie remarks, eyeing the glass she holds in her hand.

Isla rolls her eyes. “Just enjoy the free alcohol, Kie,” she says, her patience wearing thin as she takes another sip.

Fortunately, her sister merely shrugs and drinks as prompted. The group of them stand and chat for a few minutes, before JJ has to get back to work and Pope’s dad returns and they need to work on the oysters. Isla sticks with Kie and Sarah for the most part, more often than not tuning out of their conversation as she searches for Rafe. She can’t help it, and it’s driving her crazy. Part of her wonders if Rafe is pointedly ignoring her, which she wouldn’t blame him for. But then the other part tells herself she’s likely giving herself too much significance in Rafe’s life. Maybe the reason he hasn’t talked to her is because he doesn’t want to; maybe he already grew bored of whatever the hell had been brewing between them and moved on.

Admittedly, the thought of that makes a knot form in the middle of Isla’s chest, her grip on her emptying champagne glass tightening in response. A pit of dread even forms in the bottom of her stomach, like she is on the verge of losing something that’s slipping through her fingers too quickly. There’s a nagging voice in the back of Isla’s mind telling her to let it go, that cutting off whatever had been happening between her and Rafe at the legs, before it even had a chance to begin, is the right call. Less complicated when it comes to her friends.

And yet, the idea of it leaves a bitter taste in Isla’s mouth.

As she finishes off her champagne, her gaze catches on some people walking out onto the porch across the dancefloor, and the breath hitches in Isla’s throat when she finally spots Rafe. He’s dressed in a summery, beige suit with a white button down underneath, a no doubt expensive watch on his wrist as he chats with Topper and Kelce. Rafe leans one elbow against the porch railing, holding a glass, and it’s as though in that moment, he can feel Isla’s gaze on him, because his head turns just so until their eyes lock across the way.

Isla’s heart launches itself to her throat as she watches him watch her and even from where she stands, she sees that mask of his break. The indifference cracks for a split second, but her sharp eyes catch it, the way his gaze softens and lips part before he forces himself to school his features. But Isla caught it. Even from where she stands, with all of these people in between them, she caught it, because it’s impossible to look away from him. And she has been thinking about him too much, these last few days, to not take note of every single detail about him.

She watches as he opens his mouth, free hand reaching up to massage his jaw as he cuts his gaze away from her, but Isla can see the sudden rigidness of his shoulders. Seeing her is having some kind of effect on him, possibly the same effect seeing him is having on her, and she knows that without a doubt, she is going to find some way to get them alone so she can talk to him.

Because there is a truth that dances on the tip of her tongue, and the first person Isla wants to admit it to is Rafe, not even herself. He is, after all, the first one who should hear it.

Isla knows it’s not going to be easy to try and find a moment alone with him—not with her friends, and his, around. She’ll need to find the right opportunity, and hope that he isn’t intent on avoiding her.

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softpascalito · 7 months ago

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I To Dig a Grave I Chapter 1 I

Summary: Twenty-one years after the outbreak, you come to Wyoming looking for something and end up in Jackson after a stranger saves your life.

But he doesn't stay a stranger.

Turns out Joel Miller is looking for something too. It feels like a fresh start. But when bad luck seems to follow you, Joel is the only one to turn to, forcing both of you to confront your feelings about your pasts- and each other.

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader Rating: Explicit / MDNI Word count: 7k+ Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Age Difference, Smut, Explicit Content, Grief/Mourning, Mental Health Issues, Canon-Typical Violence, Chose not to use Archive Warnings, Tags to be added

AO3 LINK // Series Masterlist // Playlist

notes: this work has been quite a while in the making and im very excited to finally share the first chapter! a huge thank you to the wonderful josie for being my beta reader and listening to all my rambling <3

this fic will deal with heavy topics. please note that it doesn't use archive warnings and tags will be added as we go in order to avoid spoilers. each chapter will have detailed warnings in the end notes on ao3.

Chapter 1 - The Before

‘‘I will be very sad to leave here’, Yves said, suddenly. ‘I have never been happier than I have been in this house.’ ‘I have been very happy too. I wonder if we will ever be so happy again.’’ - Another Country, James Baldwin

You’d been on the run for what felt like weeks but could only have been days when you found the gas station next to an abandoned mall. It had looked promising, the half-rotten advertisements plastered to the walls, reminding your stomach that it had gone far too long without a proper meal, or any meal for that matter.

Maybe if you hadn’t been so starved or so tired, you would’ve heard them coming, the Infected that stormed through the back door practically the moment you slipped into the building. A yell escaped your throat, your hand instinctively reaching for the knife you kept buckled to your leg. You didn't even get the chance to pull it out of its makeshift holster before the creature was on top of you, pinning you to the floor with what felt like inhuman strength.

“Fucking- get off-” you grunted, but even if the thing on top of you had been one that listened to commands, your thin and shaky voice likely wouldn’t have impressed it.

So this was how you were gonna go out. In a town you couldn't even name, somewhere in the snowy mountains of Wyoming, after finally escaping the life you’d been stuck in for so long. You hadn't even made it a month.

For a second, you considered trying to reach for your gun, still tucked into your pants and pressing into your back uncomfortably. You could feel its outline against your skin, a pain shooting through your spine as the Infected seemed to double its effort to reach your neck with its mouth, half-rotten teeth close enough that you could recognize the foul smell of death.

Then, the gun went off. Or you thought it did. The unmistakable sound of a gunshot rang in your ears as the Infected collapsed on top of you. But the feeling of your pistol pressing into your back was still there. It had been a gun. But not yours.

“I got her!” a voice above you bellowed out, an unmistakable southern drawl. “Tommy, give me some cover here, goddammit!”

You hadn't even noticed the second man, who was now aiming his gun at another runner storming towards him. He fired, once, twice, and the Infected let out a howl before its body hit the tiled floor with a thud.

“Hey, you with me?” The man above you leaned down, shoving the Infected that had been on top of you to the side unceremoniously. He was dressed in a worn jacket, jeans and boots, the latter two splattered with blood. His right hand, covered in a weathered leather glove, was stretched out towards you, an invitation to, well, you weren't exactly sure.

“She good?”

The second man approached the pair of you, your eyes flying over to him for a split moment. He was dressed similarly, except that he looked a little younger than his partner. He shouldered his rifle and tucked a loose strand of hair behind his ear. Your gaze flew back to the man in front of you, to the brown eyes that carried an unexpectedly gentle look, not quite matching the gruff way he looked. Shaking slightly, you placed your hand in his, and the next moment, he was pulling you to your feet.

“There you are.”

You nodded, a motion that looked more like your head was jerking on its own accord. But the man seemed to accept it. As the other one stepped towards you, the taller of the two men spoke again.

“You clean?” When no response came, he pressed on, his tone getting a little more impatient. “Did it bite you? Scratch you anywhere?”

The other one gently placed a hand on his chest, forcing your attention onto himself. “Can you walk? Our horses are two houses over, we've got a place where you can rest, get some food-”

“I'm not going anywhere with you,” you blurted out. You'd had your fair share of people, of men offering you ‘help’ and it never stopped there. There was payment, always. In this world, it was stupid to think there wouldn't be, that anyone would help you out of the kindness of their hearts.

“You're not going anywhere else by the looks of it, either,” the man with the gloves muttered, more than loud enough for you to hear. “You won't last a week.”

“I've lasted longer, asshole,” you shot back, suddenly angry at the stranger in front of you. He didn't know you, he didn't know the things you'd gone through to get here. So what if he had saved your life? It didn't give him the right to predict your death.

The other man nudged his ribs, extending his hand to you as well, though it was more of a formality this time.

“Name’s Tommy. The asshole is my brother Joel.”

He paused for a moment, clearly thinking about how to approach this the right way. “Look, I'm sure you've been traveling for quite some time. We can give you a place to recover. You can leave anytime, I promise.”

You eyed him carefully. It did sound too good to be true. But it also did sound- good. A roof over your head, warm food in your stomach- two things you'd been craving for quite some time.

“Okay.”

The man who had introduced himself as Tommy gave a short nod and led the way to the horses, following tracks in the snow the two men had left while coming to your rescue. Joel pulled up the rear and you had a feeling that his eyes were trained on you, watching carefully, maybe for a twitch or anything else out of the ordinary. Again, you weren't sure why, but it made you angry.

“I told you I wasn't bit,” you repeated in his direction as Tommy began untying the horses.

Joel raised a brow, clearly surprised by the attitude in your voice. “‘ts what they usually say.”

“Well, I'm not,” you replied, turning your back on him and focusing on his brother instead. Tommy pretended not to have heard either of you but somehow you were certain he had.

“C’mon, you can ride with me. It's not too far.”

Not too far turned out to be a good hour, the crisp autumn air making you shiver, and you were thankful for the warmth of both the horse and Tommy. But what the ride lacked in temperature it made up for in views, the sun coming out just as you passed the first sign that read ‘Jackson County’.

You didn't even mind Joel's occasional glances towards you as much, finding that with the sunlight playing in his brown curls, his look screamed less of danger and more of concern. Whether it was concern for Tommy or you or something entirely different, you weren't sure.

The answer came to you in the form of your housing arrangements. After getting over the first shock of riding up a busy mainstreet in what looked like an actual, functioning town, a thing you hadn't thought possible anymore, you had made use of what must have been the first functioning toilet you'd seen in months. You felt like a child being steered through the crowd at a busy carnival, if the food hall, the functioning plumbing and electricity and the music drifting from one of the smaller shops was any indication.

“You know we ain't got any unoccupied places and Maria and mine’s no good with the baby screaming all night,” Tommy muttered urgently and you frowned a little. The two men were standing a few feet away, clearly unaware that you were already back and you awkwardly shoved your hands in your pockets, considering going back inside for a moment. But then Joel opened his mouth and you couldn't help but listen in on their conversation. The older man seemed as much a mystery as the entire scene around you.

Tommy piped up before Joel even had a chance to argue. “It's just for a couple of nights. I’m sure Ellie and you will manage. You take her in, explain the basics and as soon as we got a place, you can go back to shutting yourself off from every goddamn person in this town-”

“I don’t-” Joel interrupted before shaking his head, a low grunt leaving his throat.

“Fine. Until Thursday, no longe-” He broke off at the look on Tommys face, one that was aimed directly at you. You shyly nodded in his direction and closed the distance between you in a few quick steps.

The younger man cleared his throat, giving you a reassuring smile. “Find everything okay?”

“Yeah, thanks,” you replied politely. You hated how forced the conversation felt, already regretting listening in on it at all.

“Joel here’s gonna get you settled for the night, you let him know if you need anything else. I'll stop by in the morning and introduce you to Maria, she’s-”

“The boss,” Joel finished for him, earning a small glare from Tommy.

“One of our elected leaders,” he corrected, another smile playing around his lips at the mention of what you assumed must be his wife. “Well, I'll leave ya two to it.”

Joel took you home. He still gave you that look, and with Tommy gone, you could be sure that it was actually aimed towards you. It was like he was still on guard but whether it was of you or something else, you couldn't tell.

“Here's how this is gonna go,” he started as he fumbled with the front door of the house clad in white. “You get a quick check-up, a shower, some fresh clothes- you get the idea.”

“I get the idea,” you repeated as he led you into the hallway, unable to keep yourself from glancing around for a moment, catching a peek of the dining room. “You live here by yourself?”

“Why?”

His question hit you out of nowhere and you stuttered for a moment, racking your brain for a good response, “Just- I was making conversation. Jesus.”

“Right,” Joel nodded, his gaze softening a bit. He placed his bag onto the floor and tapped his right thigh absent-mindedly. “Come on, follow me.”

He took you into the upstairs bathroom that smelled faintly of soap, reminding you that you hadn't had a proper wash in more days than you cared to count. There were a few small containers, mostly re-used mason jars, that were labeled ‘shampoo’ or ‘body wash’, sitting orderly on the small shelf next to the tub.

You felt more than heard Joel shift behind you and turned to meet his gaze. He was still watching, arms crossed, seemingly waiting for something.

“Do I- shower?” you asked softly and he sighed a little at that.

“I need to check you for bites.” His voice was low but still carried a small note of sternness in it.

Oh, right.

“I didn't agree to that.”

You could see his hand twitch, the handle of his revolver still sticking out the back of his jeans. “You're bit.”

It was more of a statement than anything else, like he already knew what was waiting for him under your clothes, maybe a bite on your leg, a scratch on your stomach. Joel had dealt with enough people that had been marked for death like that to know the signs of it. The thing was, he was wrong.

“Is this what it is?” you asked, quietly, trying to keep your voice from shaking.

“Excuse me?”

“Is that why you go outside, save people? So you can bring them back here, get them to take their clothes off for you-”

“Whoa-” Joel held up both hands, shaking his head very slowly. “I think we got off on the wrong foot here. I need to check you for bites, it’s protocol.” His voice was still deep, that southern drawl you heard earlier in the gas station still present but somehow softer. His features had shifted, seeming genuinely surprised by the turn of your conversation.

“Now, if you want someone else to do it, I can get a lady and let her look you over. We just want to be sure we don’t bring Infected in, that's all.”

“That's all?” you asked as he kept his eyes trained on you, his hands still up in the air and his expression soft.

“I swear, that's all. If you can show me you're not bit, I'll get you that shower, some food, you name it.”

You gave a small nod at that, your body deflating a little. It had been an incredibly long day and the man in front of you seemed genuine. If he wasn't, you could still try and bail.

Joel turned slightly under the pretense of grabbing a towel from below the sink but you knew he was attempting to give you a bit of privacy- even though he clearly didn’t trust you enough to fully turn his back on you. With shaky hands, you began to strip, holding back a wince as you forced your bruised body to move. The fabric of your shirt clung to your skin, dry blood forcing another whimper out of your throat.

You felt Joel's head snap towards you at that but ignored him, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of showing quite how uncomfortable you felt about going through this with him next to you.

He was quick and professional, his large hands brushing over your skin as he made sure you were clean.

“All good,” he commented shortly when he was satisfied, his shoulders relaxing a bit as he reached for a stack of folded towels. Then, his gaze rested on your head again, more specifically, on your matted hair.

“You want me to get someone to cut that for you? Might be easier than-”

“No,” you quickly piped up. You knew your body was malnourished and likely had a dozen other things wrong with it. You didn’t want to lose your hair too.

Joel nodded, his hand absent-mindedly trailing over a particularly nasty knot. “I think I got some soap conditioner in the closet. You want to give that a try?”

“Yeah, that’d be great,” you responded curtly and Joel disappeared from the room for a few moments. He came back, as promised, with a soap smelling of jasmine and cotton.

He didn’t seem as hesitant, now that he knew you weren’t bit. At least that’s what you assumed had caused the shift in him. It didn’t occur to you that it might be the fact that you were sitting on his bathroom tiles, shivering, assuming the worst in him, in men, hell, in society. That you looked like a wounded deer, ready to take off at the slightest notion of danger, no matter how badly you were already bleeding.

Joel was a lot more gentle than you would have expected a man of his build to be. He seemed to know exactly what he was doing, reaching just far enough to cover your entire hair, but never letting any conditioner run down onto your face. It made you wonder if he was a father. Then you remembered his brother had mentioned a girl earlier, Ellie. Still, you knew better than to ask. You’d likely be gone in a few days anyway.

But, there was one question that you couldn’t keep from slipping out of your mouth.

“Why did you think I was bit?”

Joel paused for a moment, his fingers slowing down ever so slightly as he seemed to think about his words.

“You weren’t fighting hard enough. To stay alive, I mean. You were acting like someone who knows that their time is up.”

An uncomfortable silence settled between the two of you. You felt his hand brush over the crown of your head, lathering the matted mess that was your hair with soap in small, circular motions.

“I thought it was,” you whispered, honestly. You couldn't bring yourself to lie to him. But you couldn't bring yourself to explain it either.

He didn’t ask.

Neither of you spoke again until you were curled up in his bed, him insisting to take the couch for the night. He’d fed you some soup, relieved when he saw that your stomach could handle that. He’d warned you that it might not, after getting so used to going days without food. You’d gotten some worn but warm clothes to wear after the shower and now your body was sinking into an actual mattress. It was more than you’d dreamed of just that morning.

Joel paused in the doorway, his hand tapping against his jeans, a habit you had already picked up on. It was like he didn’t know what to do with his hands when they weren’t holding a gun.

“You don’t have to leave,” he said quietly. “You know that, right?”

Your mouth went dry as you tried to keep your tone nonchalant. His expression told you that it wasn't exactly working. “Who said I was leaving?”

“You look like you will.”

Again, a quiet fell over you and you shook your head softly. “What, you were a psychologist before or something?”

He smiled weakly. “Contractor.”

After a short pause, he went on. “I know it's hard to- to trust. When ya first get here. I felt the same.”

You felt a small breath leave your throat at that. “But it gets better?”

“There's hot water, three meals a day, fair working conditions. I don't think it gets much better out there,” he pointed out softly before giving you a small nod.

“I'll be downstairs if you need anything. Good night.”

27 months later

The almost-empty soap sits on your bathroom shelf, the one that’s screwed to the wall just above the worn-out bathtub. You’ve gotten it refilled every few months, sometimes sooner if you wanted to allow yourself a little treat. It still reminds you of your first day in Jackson, of the safety that you so quickly felt in every room of Joel's house.

You still have some time before you have to head to work and the blue sky promises a cold but clear day so you decided to go and check if you’re in luck with any available refills today. Stock always changes throughout the week and while there’s usually something available, you prefer to get your chosen products if possible.

No such luck.

“Sorry, we’re all out. Think patrols cleared out the store that had these a while ago,” the woman behind the counter says apologetically. “We have some others if you’d like to try a new one, there’s-”

“I’m good,” you quickly insist, giving her a small smile when you notice you may have sounded a little harsh. “I’ll just wait and see if some more comes in.”

In one quick motion, you turn around and head towards the door- only to run face-first into a broad chest draped in a thick, brown coat.

“Whoa.” The deep voice above you immediately sends a gentle warmth through your body and you take a small step back to be able to squint up at the man you bumped into.

“Sorry, Texas, didn't see you there.”

“I told you to stop calling me that,” Joel mutters weakly, fumbling with the small bag he is carrying before handing it over to the woman behind the counter. She thanks him and quickly begins to sort the items he has brought back from patrol. He’s wearing the thick coat you see on him whenever it drops below freezing, his dark boots leaving small pieces of wet mud on the floor of the small store. He’s been doing the creek trails then, most likely.

You’ve rarely been on patrol yourself, focusing your energy more on tasks inside the community. If it hadn’t been for Joel, you know you probably would have taken off in the first few days, maybe stolen some food and been on your way. But he’d gotten you to stay. With him, for a few days. Then they had found space for you in a small guesthouse close to the mainstreet, to be shared with a young woman not unlike yourself that had offered up her vacant bedroom.

You’d taken an instant liking to Lane. Joel had dropped you off at your new home, with the few things you owned, and you and her had both stood in the small kitchen in awkward silence, racking your brains for a good conversation starter. Of course, you’d come up with the one she probably heard every other day.

“I like your hair.”

It wasn’t a lie. Her hair was cut short but thick, and most importantly, it was blue. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d seen colored hair. It seemed to fit her though. The roots were brown and the overall color a little less vibrant than you’d seen in magazines of people before the outbreak. If anything, you liked this more.

“Thanks,” she said lamely, twisting her hand around the small cup she was holding. “Fuck, I’m sorry, I’m the worst at social shit,” she finally blurted out and it looked like she was half glad to admit it and half afraid of your reaction.

“Don’t worry. Me too,” you admitted, a grin spreading over both your faces, the silence seeming a lot more bearable now. She shrugged towards the counter, half a dozen muffins sitting on it. “You like blueberries? A friend let me nick these.”

She paused for a moment, brushing a strand of blue hair behind her ear. “I mean, technically they’re not real blueberries, the ground here is too dry for those. I think they’re called juneberries, but we never call them that.”

You figured she’d be a solid roommate if she’d just met you and was already sharing her sweets. Half an hour later, when you had vomited the blueberry muffins back up in your shared bathroom, Joel’s warning about solid food still ringing in your ears, when she was standing beside you, holding your hair back and handing you a washcloth when you were finished, you knew she’d be more than a roommate. She’d be your friend.

She had also been the one to get you into teaching. You’d been fascinated when she first told you about her job in town, teaching the children of Jackson practically every subject she could. Neither of you had been in school before the outbreak so it was all the more impressive, the way she managed to control a class without the need to get loud or hand out punishments.

You’d taken a liking to the classrooms of Jackson as well, reminiscing on the last summer before the world had gone to shit and the way you’d looked forward to being in school, learning all the things big girls did. Not getting to sit in a classroom, and you didn’t count those at FEDRA as actual classrooms, had been only one of so many things you felt you had missed out on.

So it felt even more special now when, after you got Maria to assign you as teacher alongside Lane, you spent your days in the colorfully decorated classrooms, teaching a variety of subjects and a variety of ages. It was similar to life in Jackson, not without its fair amount of challenges. But, just as Joel had promised the first night, you learned to trust and the more you did, the easier it was to let yourself be. Above all, to let yourself be happy.

Joel steps outside alongside you, his head jerking back towards the small supply store. “Did ya get everything?”

His voice is soft, and you like to imagine that he sounds a little more gentle when speaking to you compared to the others. Not that you see him talking to a lot of people either way. You're pretty sure it's why he prefers the patrols, less people to bother him and less voices to listen to. Even though you had a feeling, about a year after you arrived in Jackson, that he also preferred being paired up with Esther, a pretty woman who took care of the horses and frequented the patrols. Especially those with Joel.

You had almost hoped for them to end up together, to drive the images of Joel alone at his too large dining table out of your head. But they didn't and the images stayed. You had him over for dinner, every other month. It started as a thank-you for helping you through your first days and quickly developed into a rare but regular thing. Ellie or Lane joined you occasionally, happy to get a nice home-cooked dinner and some of the wine Joel usually brought along.

You didn't see too much of him outside of your little gatherings, only the normal occasions that presented themself around town. But it was nice to know that he was there, that he would bring his wine and compliment your cooking and make small-talk and listen to the new developments of your life.

“It makes sense for you to be a teacher,” he’d agreed after you’d updated him on your new position, causing you to raise a brow.

“What is that supposed to mean? Think I can’t handle myself out on the group patrols?”

His face slowly changed at that, Joel urgently shaking his head, “I didn't mean-”

You cut him off with a small laugh, no longer able to stay serious at how panicked he looked. “I’m messing with you, old man. I know what you meant. I think it makes sense too. I like it.”

His shoulders relaxed slightly as he leaned back against the kitchen counter, grumbling a little under his breath.

It's Joel's voice that brings you back to the present. “I asked if you got everything?”

You shake your head to get rid of the thoughts, then it turns to shaking your head no. “They’re out of conditioner. But it’s fine, I can stretch mine a bit longer and maybe they’ll get some next week.”

“Ya still using the same one?” Joel asks, shoving his hands into the pockets of his coat and you nod. It's sweet that he remembers. It's been over two years, after all.

“Yeah. Liked it, never saw a reason to switch,” you explain lamely. He only gives a short nod, motioning for you to follow as he starts walking.

You do, though perplexed. “School’s in the other direction.” “Thought your class didn’t start until ten today,” he points out. It never appears to you to ask how or why he knows this. When your steps slow down and your thoughts speed up simultaneously, he nudges you along.

“You want your soap or not?” he grumbles and your face lights up a little at that.

“You got some?”

Joel gives another quick nod. “Brought them back a few weeks ago. I would’ve given them to you if I knew ya still used them.”

You trot beside him like a puppy, making your way down Rancher Street and up the flight of stairs that leads to the small house clad in white. The noise of the wind chimes tied to a beam above his front porch drifts over to you, the gentle breeze creating a slow melody.

You haven’t been in his upstairs bathroom for years. It’s odd and it feels too intimate, seeing the place where he brushes his teeth in the morning, where he washes himself after a long day. You don't belong in a space this personal. You don't belong to him.

It felt different when you were curled up on the same white tiles, letting him check your bruised and battered body for signs of Infection. For a split moment, it did feel like you belonged, in a way.

Joel's hand brushes over yours as he hands you the soap, the one smelling of jasmine and cotton and safety.

The rest of the day is a blur of lessons and grading, but the smell of the soap seems to linger, the comforting feeling in your stomach getting you through the work day. It doesn’t end until seven with you staying behind to tutor some kids for an upcoming exam and then to finish preparing said exam. The smell of food fills the air as you open your front door and you smile as you poke your head into the kitchen, “Smells good.”

Lane is seated at the table, a few papers in front of her. Likely an exam of her own, you think to yourself. Even after the world has ended, finals season still exists.

“My mum made that pasta you like so much today. Figured I'd save you some,” she says, nodding towards the tupperware sitting on the counter.

“You're an angel.” You whistle as you head deeper into the house, putting away your jacket and bag, fishing the soap out of the latter and placing it on the bathroom shelf. It makes you pause for a moment. You give a nod to yourself at the sight of the refilled container and make a silent vow to treat yourself to a nice bath today.

An hour later, your stomach is filled with warm pasta, the bathroom damp with steam and your hair soft, smelling just the way you like it. The clock in the small hallway reminds you that it's already past twelve and the knowledge that tomorrow is another day filled with teaching makes you want to crawl into bed fairly quickly. But you're thirsty.

Lane is still in the kitchen, her blue hair a little messy and crowned with a pair of headphones. The music spills out a bit, enough for you to be able to hear the low, steady humming of a song that seems mildly familiar.

You do remember a few songs from before the Outbreak- mainly the ones they played on the radio. But you know that Lane doesn’t, being a few years younger than you, meaning that she barely has any memories of the before.

You're already in your pajamas, shuffling to the sink to pour yourself a glass of water. Somehow it always tastes better at night. Or maybe your brain is playing tricks on you.

“Hey, you remember Joel is coming over for dinner on Sunday, right?” you ask with your back to your friend. When no response comes, you gulp down the last bit of water and turn around, giving a small wave in the air between you.

Lane sits up a little more, pushing one side of her headphones back just enough to free her ear. “Hm?”

“Dinner with Joel, Sunday,” you repeat, a yawn escaping you.

After a moment, she nods. “Right, I remember. We’re out of blueberries again, by the way.”

“I’ll make sure to restock this weekend then,” you agree, already halfway across the room. You give another small wave and finally head to bed. It looks exactly the same way you left it this morning, the blanket tucked into one side, the pillows arranged against the headboard.

“It's so good to be home,” you mutter to yourself as you crawl under the covers, stretching your body a little. Your left hand reaches for your nightstand and finds the book you've been reading, hoping to get just a tiny bit further tonight. With all the work and the winter festival coming up, you’ve barely made progress, the wooden bookmark still sitting near the front. You put it aside, glancing down at the finely carved piece of woodwork for a moment. Joel gave it to you for your first birthday in Jackson. Then you open the book properly, the worn-out spine cracking slightly. Just a couple of minutes.

But your eyes start to droop after just a few pages. After half a chapter, you're in a deep slumber, the book slipping out of your hands and onto the wooden floor below just as the front door slips shut.

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kookiestiddies · 18 days ago

Text

2 | two for two

series m.list

what's the worst that could happen at a party?

Word Count: 6.5k

Warnings: swearing, kissing, drinking, attempted humour

A/N: thank you so much for reading! updates will come...when they come ;-; if you are curious to know, I listened to this song while writing this fic. This really helped me figure out jk and oc's dynamic sort of. Also, i do not own these photos, I got them off of pinterest lol👍🏼happy reading this silly chapter weeee

°˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°

The Jeon twins made for an odd pair.

While they lived up to their title in terms of mannerisms and speech patterns, physically, they were as different as can be.

If it weren’t for the inky patterns that lined their arms and possibly other parts of their body, their matching set of doe eyes, and the sudden dips in each cheek that always appeared after the sight of a familiar face or a well-told joke, you could never have guessed that they were once womb-mates.

While Chaeyoung thrived in bright shades of pink and white, Jungkook opted for the brooding presence of blacks and anything else no brighter than navy blues. Where she was all softness and curves, he was a sketch-up of hard lines. On the days when Chaeyoung wore butterfly clips in her hair that complimented her flowy dress and Mary Jane heels, Jungkook styled his mullet, wore more silver jewellery than you could count, and stalked about in black stompers.

Just a few months into your new company of friends, you were quick to learn that the whole lot of them were party animals, almost always on the lookout for nights of alcohol-induced shenanigans, and shameless whoring, twerking, strutting and queefing around as Jimin had so eloquently put, while you were decidedly not.

“You’ll come won’t you,” Chae asked you as she grasped your upper arm and looked at you with puppy eyes.

“I won’t,” you answered with a sickeningly sweet smile.

It was on a Friday afternoon when you had been in the middle of your solo biweekly revision session that Chae’s familiar cotton candy head had popped over the sea of silence that engulfed the library. Students glanced at her with annoyance as she noisily clacked her heels over the floor to where you were seated in a single booth towards the back corner. You were also quick to notice the quiet thud of a pair of stompers that followed her suit.

“Told you she wouldn’t be into it,” Jungkook said dismissively with a blank expression and lazily leaned against the side of your booth. “Oh c’mon, you can’t abandon me like this!” Chae whined and tightened her grip on your arm. It was starting to hurt honestly.

The girl sitting in the booth across from you sent an angry “Shh!” in your trio’s direction.

You lowered your head in embarrassment and gestured to the twins to quiet down. “Babe, what do you mean, abandon you? I love you and everything and I truly appreciate our friendship and all, but we really haven’t known each other long enough for this to be that deep,” you said with a look on your face that said you were joking. Jungkook snorted loudly at that.

Another “SHH!” landed on you again. Bitch.

“Y/n! I can’t handle another night of taking care of Jimin and Nayeon’s horny asses. Do you have any idea what the bullshit those idiots put me through?!” Chae cried. Her grip on your arm tightened even more.

Jesus fuck, does she work out?!?

“C’mon Chae, I told you she wouldn’t be into it. You said you’d prove me wrong. You didn’t. You owe me ice cream now. Let’s go,” Jungkook said monotonously and stood up as you hopelessly pried Chae’s hands away from your arm.

“Chae, please let go, you’re killing me here,” you whisper-scream, admittedly scared of the chick in front of you.

Luckily, the shrill ringtone of Chae’s phone suddenly cuts through the air and leads her a short way away from your booth to answer the call, gorilla grip talons and all. Both Jungkook and you noticed the irritated look on the girl across and shared an awkward-embarrassed look with each other.

“What? Did you guys bet on me going to the party or something?” you redirected, looking between the twins. He shrugged. “Am I only worth some ice cream?” you joked mindlessly.

“If you must know, it’s really cheap, grocery store ice cream…” Jungkook said quietly, but not quiet enough to escape your earshot as you massaged your arm (which will probably bruise tomorrow).

Asshole.

“Oh? Is that so? Everyone knows that cheap, grocery store ice cream tastes miles better though, compared to whatever premium coco-mocha-pumpkin-spiced-latte-ariana-grande ice cream I’m sure the likes of you enjoy,” you banter.

At this, he stares at you, glides his eyes up and down your figure, and smirks.

“I mean… I didn’t even say that that’s my taste.”

“What is your taste then?”

“Cheap, grocery store ice cream,” he says with a shy smile.

Is he flirting with you?

Jesus christ, that was a weird exchange, why in the world would your heart be thumping over that? (Because it was.)

Yes, the textbook incident did leave you upset with him for a long while. But your parents taught you that bygones should be bygones.

After all, he did get down on his knees for you.

The memory of Jungkook crouching before you haunted you for an embarrassingly long time after, especially given that all your friends witnessed it and never failed to tease the two of you about it, except for Taehyung who still curses the heavens to this day for punishing him with boring TA sessions on that day when he could have been there in person to see it.

You had claimed to have forgiven him then and there itself, not because you actually meant it, because it would take much more than that to get over how trashy Jungkook’s 50 dollars had made you feel, but just to get over the attention he was bringing to the two of you in the crowded cafeteria.

No, Jungkook getting down on his knees wasn’t enough. But you didn’t have to say that for him to know, because he saw right through you.

After two weeks of being forced to hang out thanks to your shared friend group and an infinite amount of awkwardly skirting around each other, Jungkook one day approached you alone in the library lugging a bag in his hand. When you looked up at him, he shifted his eyes away to the muddy textbook that lay open on the table and cleared his throat.

“Here,” he’d said and thrust the bag that weighed a tonne towards you. You wordlessly took it and gave him a curious look. In that moment, he’d reminded you of a child in kindergarten being forced to apologise to the classmate he’s made fun of, looking sheepish and awkward.

In the bag were brand new textbooks. Hardcovers at that. Sitting on top of them was a large pack of your favourite corn chips that you always had on you to munch on. You were surprised to say the least. Not only did you not expect him to be thoughtful enough to replace your textbooks, but you didn’t pin him to be observant enough to know your favourite snack.

“Sorry again…about your books,” he mumbled out while rubbing the back of his neck. You were quiet for a moment, Jungkook’s actions once again leaving you too stunned to speak.

“Apology accepted,” you quietly replied. And with that, the textbook incident was a chapter closed.

Ever since then, Jungkook and you had to find your footing around each other in your friend group, now on more amicable terms. For Jungkook, it meant getting comfortable around you, which you learnt meant that he would find ways to tease you and somehow always managed to find a way to get under your skin and rattle you. For you, it meant constantly getting annoyed at him and letting him know of that.

It was deeply unsettling how he constantly one-upped you with his comments. You figured you’d rather not engage with him at all in any way or form.

You let out a huff at him and say, “Whatever. This is a really dumb conversation. Hope you enjoy your ice cream, whichever one it is that you end up getting,” before turning back to your work so that he can’t see your cheeks that were beginning to feel hot.

Jungkook was still looking at you, with what you suspected was hesitance.

You look back and raise a questioning brow at him.

Just as he opens his mouth, Chae saunters back over and unknowingly interrupts him. “Hobi’s here,” she announces while looking around the library. All the focus you had on Jungkook is abandoned immediately as you whip your head around to look for the sight of a familiar sunny grin.

It doesn’t take long for you to find it as its owner walks over to your group with a bickering Jimin and Taehyung in tow. Taehyung’s hands are flailing everywhere and he’s bouncing around with Jimin looking at him in ridicule while trying to get him to calm down.

“What are these idiots fighting about now,” Chae mutters under her breath.

“They're not just friends, okay? They’re soulmates. Hollywood soulmates. There’s a difference," you hear Taehyung say passionately as the trio came within earshot, making Jimin burst out a screech while Hoseok chuckled. You sneak a glance at the girl across and you’re pretty sure you catch her shaking in anger or something. "Soulmates? Come on. They’ve known each other since, what, middle school? That’s just a lifelong bromance," Jimin retorts.

“Hey guys,” Hoseok threw at the twins and you. You were the only one who bothered to reply with one yourself. Chae was too invested in Taehyung and Jimin’s conversation to respond while Jungkook seemed to be in a mood all of a sudden, his eyes fixated on the way Hoseok walked over and leaned against the table facing you.

“What are they arguing about?” you ask Hoseok. Before he could answer, Jimin voices it out himself exasperatedly.

"A bromance doesn’t survive Oscars, Batman vs. Bourne debates, and that time Ben got way too into Dunkin’ coffee. That’s a bond,"

“But what does that have to do with why JLo and he aren’t good together???”

“It has to do with everything!”

“EXCUSE ME, BUT CAN YOU PLEASE EITHER KEEP IT DOWN OR LEAVE THE LIBRARY?!” the girl from earlier finally explodes at your seemingly ever-growing gathering.

“Jesus fuck, yes, yes! We’re leaving,” you bellow out, annoyed and terrified, and start packing up your things.

“We’re leaving?” Chae asks, finally tuning in back to you.

“We are?” Taehyung asks.

“But we just got here,” Jimin adds pitifully.

It’s your turn to be exasperated as you say “Shut up, please, all of you. We’re getting out of here and going somewhere less quiet so that we don’t seem too much like animals.” You finish packing up and head towards the exit, throwing a measly ‘sorry’ to the girl ahead of you without waiting for a response. The rest of the group moves over similarly like a school of fish.

While Jimin and Taehyung carry on their argument, this time with Jungkook joining in (his contribution being the Dunkin’ lore), Hoseok catches up to you and Chae.

“Are you sure you’re not gonna change your mind about coming to the party?” Chae tries again.

Hoseok cuts in before you could answer, “What, you mean the one happening tomorrow night?” She nods in confirmation. “She doesn’t want to go but I want her to,” Chae whines.

“This is gonna hurt Chae, but frankly speaking, I don’t care what you want,” you say curtly, making her huff and setting Hoseok off with laughter.

“Shut the fuck up, that wasn’t even that funny!” Chae whines at Hoseok. “No, but it’s what your entitled ass deserves,” he throws at her, causing her to fume.

“Who are you calling entitled?!? Jungkook, did you hear what they’re saying about me?” she screeches at her brother. Said brother turns to her and says, “I did and I agree, you are entitled and I also don’t care about what you want.” Now the whole group is laughing along.

“That’s it, I’m calling Nayeon, you know… a real friend,” Chae huffs and gets distracted by her phone. Hoseok takes this as an opportunity to lean over and put his arm around you.

“I know we’re joking and all, but I’d really like it if you’d change your mind about the party,” he says softly.

“Oh, I don’t know. It’s not really my thing, ya’know? Besides, I have Mr Byrnes class to study for. He keeps talking about a test that isn’t even in the study plan and it’s making me paranoid that he’s going to surprise us with a pop quiz one of these days,” you ramble as he listens attentively.

“C’mon, it’s just one night. Just have some fun. And I promise that I’ll watch out for you, okay? Make sure things don’t get out of hand or let anyone force you to do anything crazy,” he says.

“What do you say?” he asks, eyes hopeful and smiling as wide and bright as ever.

Of course, you said yes.

How could you refuse when he had asked so nicely?

So here you were, walking up to a large house set in the corner of an upper-class residential area that had college students pouring in and out of every entrance possible with Chae, Nayeon and Jimin. You honestly had no idea whose house this was, or who even organised this party. An act of stupidity on your part you realised, because now you had no choice but to lean on your friends for safety.

Oh well, Hoseok did promise to watch out for you, you thought as you secretly smiled to yourself.

Not secretive enough it seems as Chae tells you, “With that look on your face, I hope you’re actually excited to go to this party for the sake of having fun.”

You reply with a simple “Sure,” as your group turns into the neat little pathway leading up to the front door.

“Whether Y/n’s excited or not, I sure as hell am. God, I can’t wait to get fucked up tonight. It’s been too long,” Nayeon chirps next to you, much to Chae's chagrin.

“I’m begging you two,” Chase addresses both Nayeon and Jimin as she says, “don’t do anything you’ll regret in the morning. I’m sick of babysitting you two,” with a scoff. The perpetrators merely giggle at her as they spread out separately into the dancing crowd in the living room-turned-dancefloor.

“C’mon, let’s go out to the backyard. It’s way too early to be partying this hard,” Chase says and leads you by your hand.

As soon as you step foot out of the house, you’re relieved to be able to breathe without the entailing smell of sweat and alcohol in the air. Towards the corner of the porch, leaning against the railing with red solo cups at hand are Jungkook and Taehyung talking with two other guys you don’t recognise.

They’re both tall and attractive, you’re quick to notice. While one is more built all-around, the other has wide shoulders leading to a tapered waist.

“Hey guys!” Chase chirps at them. “Meet Y/n. Y/n, this is Namjoon and this is Jin,” she gestures to the built one and the one with wide shoulders in order. You greet them pleasantly before stepping aside to stand next to Taehyung while Chae rants to them about Nayeon and Jimin.

Suddenly, you feel a poke of a finger in your side. “Y/n….you’re at a college party without a drink. Tch, tch, tch,” Taehyung chastises you as he leans over. You can already smell the faint lingering of alcohol on his breath. “Sorry, I’m just really not looking to get shitfaced tonight,” you weakly say.

“Shut up, one drink never hurt anyone!” he retorts with a laugh. “I’ll be right back,” he says and before you could refuse, he’s already headed towards the kitchen indoors, presumably to get you a drink.

In his absence, you notice Jungkook quietly nursing his own drink next to you. You shift your attention away from him and start looking around the backyard.

Your eyes are searching, here, there and everywhere looking for a specific face. Where’s Hoseok? You want to text him, asking him if he’s here already, but you’ve never really texted him before. Would it be too obvious if you were to start now? In your train of overthinking, you fail to notice that the boy next to you has shifted to face you. He’s studying you, your actions, but you fail to notice.

“Missing your loverboy?” the voice from next to you breaks you out of your reverie.

You look at Jungkook and dumbly say, “Huh?”

He chuckles and shakes his head, and you curse the heavens for making him as handsome as he looks when he does so. “I asked if you’re looking for Hoseok hyung,” he says.

“Maybe.”

“Hmm, figured as much,” he shrugs. At this, you raise a curious brow at him.

“Uhm, duh, you look like you lost your puppy or something. Huhu, where’s my boyfie, huhu,” he mimics you in a high-pitched voice.

You look at him in disgust before saying, “Ugh, I have never and will never use the word boyfie.” It’s a weak attempt at a comeback, you already know. “Aha, but you don’t deny that you’re looking for Hoseok hyung!” he says with a grin.

You let out a scoff at that and say, “Okay, so what? What’s it to do with you? Ever heard of minding your own business?” Your tone is harsh, but you couldn’t help the shy smile that crawled on your face.

He looks like he has more to say, probably to tease you, but is cut off by Taehyung crying out “Children! Children! Please settle down, the party’s only just started. I can’t handle y'all bickering so soon.” You roll your eyes at Jungkook and turn away from him, making you miss out on the boyish grin he sends your way before he turns away himself to tune into Chae’s conversation with Namjoon and Jin.

Taehyung waltzes up to you and flourishes a red solo cup to you with a proud look on his face. “Ta-da! A drink for Her Highness,” he dramatically says with an even more dramatic bow.

You giggle as you accept the drink. “Thank you, good sir,” you play along. Taehyung lets out a pleasant sigh and leans forward against the railing. His sudden silence hints to you that he might have something on his mind.

You don’t bother asking yet though, comfortable with the lack of conversation between you, and instead listening to Namjoon and Jin telling Chae about their disastrous search for a roommate. Jungkook isn’t in sight anymore so you assume he’s gone back into the house.

“You guys don’t understand the number of crazy people we’ve met so far. We interviewed this one kid, a comp-sci student, who asked if we’d be okay if he were to use our storage room to keep all his blow-up “life-sized sleep dolls”. Like, what the fuck does that even mean?” Namjoon says exasperatedly. Jin shakes his head and takes a sip of his drink before saying, “I don’t think any of us here want to know what that means,” making the whole group laugh.

“Maybe you guys should consider having him around. I want to start a wager that he has a doll of Danny Devito,” you giggle. Jin nearly chokes on his drink at that.

Namjoon is thoroughly entertained and says “You’re right! And when Christmas rolls around, we won’t have to get a damn Christmas tree. We can just spice up Danny.”

“A Danny Devito Christmas Tree?” Chae asks with a grin.

“A Danny DeviTree.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Jin says.

You all nod our heads in a silly agreement.

“TO DANNY DEVITREE!” we cheer together and take large gulps of our drinks.

“Hey, didn’t you say you wanted to find a different place to live? Somewhere closer to campus right?” Chae asks you with a nudge of her elbow.

“Oh yeah, I almost forgot about that,” you reply. You turn to Namjoon and Jin to explain “The place I’m at now is too far away from campus, so I’m thinking about moving somewhere closer so that I don’t have to stress too much about the distance before leaving for classes.”

“Well hey, our place is less than a block from campus. If you’re interested, we can talk another day,” Jin says excitedly. “But the DeviTree arrangement will have to wait, it seems,” Namjoon adds with a grin. Your eyes widen with excitement and you agree to meet another day to discuss it.

While you’re busy exchanging numbers with Namjoon, Chae suddenly notices Taehyung’s silence and asks him “What’s got you thinking so deeply? Looking so serious doesn’t suit you” she says poking her tongue out teasingly at him.

This brings Taehyung to stand straight and point at your chest area. “It’s weird you know,” he says.

Your tit?

“My tit?” you ask aloud.

“Huh?” he asks back and realises what he’s pointing at. “What the - no! You idiot, not your tit. Your tit is fine. I meant you in general.”

You and the others can’t control your giggles as you prod him even more, “What’s so weird about me?”

“It’s weird how you can’t seem to get along with Jungkook. He’s literally the nicest out of all of us. And you’re nice too.”

This catches you off guard as the laughter suddenly lulls down.

“What’s that supposed to mean? He’s always getting on my nerves on purpose. He’s such an idiot,” you say along with a quick apology towards Chae. She smiles strangely at you while Namjoon and Jin watch the conversation play out in silence.

“See that’s the thing, he’s never trying to get on your nerves on purpose. You just seem to always get annoyed by him all on your own,” Taehyung refutes.

“He’s right. Not to sound like I’m trying to stand up for my brother too much, but it is weird how much you can’t stand him. He doesn’t hate you the way you hate him,” Chae says the last part with a strange tone in her voice. “But it’s like you don’t even want to give him a chance to be closer with you.”

You suddenly feel cornered by the duo. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe we’re just wired into different frequencies or something. Somehow, everything he does annoys me so much. God help me if I knew why,” you try to brush it off and take a large gulp of your drink.

Are you getting a bit tipsy right now? Probably. Eh, whatever - you think as you chug the rest of the drink.

Of course in your heart, you feel struck by the accusation. Is it true? Have you been too harsh with Jungkook?

This time, you knew Chae and Taehyung weren’t referring to the textbook incident. Nope, they were talking about your overall behaviour after that. You were always harsh and short-tempered around him, sometimes, oftentimes even, mean.

You were never usually mean, so much so that you could recognise when you were being so, especially with Jungkook. But could you blame yourself? He was practically asking for it.

“Maybe, it’s because you like-like him,” Taehyung says, making you choke on your drink.

Namjoon and Jin are chuckling into their cups when he says that while he stands there calmly with Chae waiting for you to finish your coughing fit.

“What the FUCK! Like-like him??” you let out an emotionless laugh and say “what are we, five? Like-like him, pfft! As if.”

You’re desperate for this conversation to end now.

“Why? It’s not that ridiculous. It would be kind of nice if my baby brother and my best friend were to date,” Chae says with a smile and a shrug. “Besides, you know what they say - there’s a thin line between love and hate…”

Sometimes, the differences between the Jeon twins shone starkly like day and night. Jungkook who loved to spend his evenings cruising around town on his motorcycle; Chae who turned down getting her own car that their parents wanted to give her because of how traumatised she was from her experience at driver’s ed (nothing serious, it was just bad vibes with an instructor who fell asleep in the passenger seat while she was behind the wheel). Jungkook who always had a glint in his eye, craving for an adrenaline filled adventure like rock climbing or hiking. More extreme, skydiving and cliff jumping during summer breaks. And Chae, who enjoyed completely and entirely, simple hangouts with friends at a cafe or a club, and especially at home.

As different as they were, the Jeon twins were as inseparable as former womb mates ever could be.

Like that one time Chae and you had a sleepover at their place for a Barbie animated movie marathon before your group was set to go watch the new Barbie live-action movie in cinemas. Even though he had all the means to simply lock himself up in his room to save himself from the cheesy squeals and giggles he was promised to hear from the two of you for the rest of the night, Jungkook not only joined you two for the whole run, enthusiastically reacting along to the characters and funny lines, he even went out of the way to make the three of you hot cocoa drinks with marshmallows and volunteered to go out and buy more snacks once they had run out.

A memory that still makes you chuckle is how the entire group showed up to the movie dressed in theme to the nines (Jimin and Taehyung as the Diamond Castle dogs of course). And yes, Jungkook too. While Chae unsurprisingly dressed up as Bibble, Jungkook retired his punk jewellery to dress up as Aidan from The Magic of Pegasus.

Chae was none the wiser, fiercely caring for her brother. The memory of Jungkook and Taehyung once getting locked in a frat party closet once and noone being able to find them bcs their phones were with Nayeon, and the party was too loud to hear them shouting to be let out. Chae was worried sick around the 5 hour mark, contemplating calling the police and ranting and generally being out of sorts. Thank god Jimin needed to throw up and rushed to the nearest closet and forced it open. The gratification on the boys’ face at being freed didn’t last long before Jimin got puke all over them.

Nonetheless, Chae was utterly relieved to see her brother alive and well, rushing to hug him regardless of the gunk covering his shirt.

For as darling as you found Chae and as insufferable as you found Jungkook, you sure did hang out with the two a lot; the most out of everyone in the group. It didn’t go unnoticed how he was a whopping 5 '8 and was incredibly self-sufficient, perfectly able to say no to his sister's invitations if he wanted to.

The thing was, Chae brought him along everywhere, and he followed along anyway.

These are a few of the memories that you’ve collected since getting to know Chae, and by default Jungkook too. The Jeon twins truly made for an odd pair, but they were made for each other like peanut butter and jelly.

You’re reflecting on these memories in your tipsy haze as you’re almost touched for a moment that Chae just called you her best friend, given that you’ve only known each other for a little over half a year now.

Almost.

“Hah! No offence Chae, but there is no way I could ever like, or love, your brother.”

Of course, the universe is not on your side today (has it ever been?), because it’s at that exact moment that the man you’d been on the lookout for the whole night strides onto the patio towards you little group.

“Oh shit, Y/n loves Jungkook? Then, I’m out of here,” Hoseok says with a teasing lilt in his voice and the insinuation of what he says makes your hearts beat faster.

“NO! I said I don’t like him. Or love him. C’mon Hoseok, I want to dance. It’s getting stale out here,” you say as you giggle and drag him by his hand into the house through the swarm of bodies.

You’re well able to notice your friends’ teasing comments following you into the house, but not the pair of doe eyes that were fixated on you from the inner entrance to the porch area as you pass them.

Currently, you were bouncing along with Hoseok in the room full of bodies, barely able to decipher anything other than the music booming through the space. Oh, and his hands are on your hips.

Fuck, you think to yourself. That boy has got you wrapped around his pretty little finger, literally, and he doesn’t even know it.

Or maybe he does? You don’t know. You don’t know anything right now. You’re so out of it.

The full weight of the drink Taehyung had given earlier had finally hit you 20 minutes ago, and ever since then, you’ve been daringly thrusting your hips and grinding against Hoseok in tune to the beat of the songs playing. You’re not sure if he’s drunk himself since you didn’t see him ingest anything since you met up with him on the porch, but the way he’s grinding back onto you, gripping your hips possessively and whispering sweet nothings into your ear suggest that he might be.

“Y/n…” he breathes out. “You look so cute tonight. Sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. I wanted to. I thought about it, but didn’t say it.”

You let out a giggle and say “That’s okay. Thanks. You look really good tonight too.”

A minute passes of you two continuing to dance when he suddenly stops and motions you to do the same. “Can I- Can I ask you something?” he starts. The suddenness of his actions sobers you a little and you merely nod at him. “What is it?”

He seems hesitant to continue and it looks like it’s really eating him up. “What is it? You can ask me anything,” you encourage him.

“Okay, uhm, well, is there- fuck, okay,” he says before clearing his throat and looking at you pointedly.

“Is there anything going on between you and Jungkook?” he asks.

“What the hell, no!” you’re quick to refute.

His eyes widened at your response. “No? Are you sure? Are you 100% positive on that?”

You can’t help but let out a chuckle at that.

This is so ridiculous.

“No, Hoseok, there’s nothing going on between me and that brat Jeon Jungkook. Okay? The others were just joking around. There’s nothing happening between us. Is that what you wanted to know?”

He visibly brightens up and says “Well yeah, because I wanted to know if what I’m about to do next would land me a punch on the face or not,” with a laugh. He comes closer to you and wraps his arms around your waist with a grin forming on his face.

“What are you going to do?” you ask, your breath getting shallower. Your heart is pounding so fast you hear your heartbeat in your ears.

“I’m going to kiss you,” he says.

And when he leans down and brings his lips to yours in a searing kiss, you’re unable to think of anything else anymore. Fuck Jungkook. Fuck everything.

All you think about is him.

Hoseok.

He’s such a great kisser, lips so soft and careful yet bold. While your tongues are having a passionate battle for dominance, with you losing quickly, he brings his arms to wrap tightly around your body. “Y/n…” he moans in between and you swear you’ve never heard a sound more sweeter. You’re moaning too as you bring your hands up to run through his hair and down the back of his neck.

The pair of you part after what feels like both forever and finite. “Fuck, you’re something else,” he says breathlessly. You chuckle at that, out of breath yourself.

You take a moment to just stare at his face and your heart feels like it’s about to beat out of your chest. He’s taking the time to look back at you too. You see his eyes dart around your face - to your eyes, nose, hair tucked behind your ear, your lips.

His face is lit up by the glare of the colourful lights decorating the ceiling and something else that is purely him.

Hoseok.

Sober-you would never find the balls to admit your feelings to him, but drunk-you could.

“Hoseok…”

“Yes?”

“I-I like you.”

“I like you too.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. How could I not?” he says with a chuckle before he closes the gaps between your lips again.

Just as you think you’re about to write a blurb on the bliss of Hoseok’s soft lips, a voice clears causing the two of you to break away. Jungkook appears by your side with a furrow on his face looking as uncomfortable as ever.

“Jungkook? What are you doing here?” you ask, flustered and unable to mask your disappointment over his interruption. He isn’t quick to reply, opting to glance at the close proximity between Hoseok and you first. “I need you to come with me,” he replies gruffly. When you don’t move an inch he adds, “Now,”.

“Uhm, well, I’m kinda occupied at the moment so unless it’s important - HEY!” you exclaim as he grabs ahold of your hand and tries to drag you away from Hoseok. Hoseok steps in and tries to reason with Jungkook. “Hey man, you heard her, she can’t go and it’s not cool of you to drag her”

“It IS important!” Jungkook says. He’s got a strong grip on you, and even though you’re not afraid of him at that moment, for you know he’s gentler than he seems, you are annoyed by him.

You smack on his hand that’s encasing your arm and start yelling “Jungkook, you big OAF, I’m not going anywhere with YOU!” He ignores you and continues dragging you away from Hoseok. “You’re not even telling me what’s so goddamned IMPORTANT!”

There truly are consequences to chugging down a drink that Taehyung, of all people made for you.

You are drunk. And what is it that drunk people infamously do? Stupid things.

You are drunk and irrational and Jungkook is still dragging you away. You do the only thing that your brain can comprehend doing in that moment.

You bring your stiletto boots covered leg up and bring it down hard on Jungkook’s heavy black stompers. You know, the ones that he stood in-line for 3 hours to buy on its release day that cost a whopping $800. The ones that he carefully polishes every week so that they look shiny and new always.

Well, from where you’re standing - yep, standing, not walking..because Jungkook has stopped walking - his shoes do look as good as new.

Except for the ugly 3 inch scratch that runs down the side of the right one where your stiletto just met it.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. You’ve gone too far.

Is it possible to hear complete and utter silence in a room full of sweaty and drunk college kids with Gasolina blaring in the background? Because you’re experiencing it right this moment. Oh no wait, it just changed to You Broke Me First by Tate McCrae. Nice. In any other given scenario, you’d laugh at the irony of it.

But you’re not laughing now. Neither is Jungkook. You’re holding your breath and Jungkook's wide set shoulders slowly turn around to look at you.

He peers down at his now ruined shoe before slowly dragging his eyes over your figure and meeting your eyes. His mouth, usually positioned as a lopsided grin, was now set straight and silent, his eyes hard with an illegible emotion.

It takes a couple of moments for you to snap back to your senses and you’re about to open your mouth to throw out apologies, but Jungkook beats you to it.

“Chae’s sick in the toilet. Go check up on her and let her know I’m waiting for her outside,” he says lowly and releases his grip on your hand.

You’re wide-eyed as you open your mouth to respond, “Jungkook, I’m so-”

“What the hell is wrong with you? Why is it so difficult for you to think about other people?” He cuts you off loudly. You’re rendered speechless, his words striking you unexpectedly. In all your encounters of Jungkook irritating you, leaving you to retort harshly, never once has he raised his voice or gotten angry with you. But now he was.

Totally and utterly angry.

You see it in the way he’s actively trying, but failing, to control his tone and breathing, and the step that he takes away from you. This is new ground for your dynamic, you have no idea what to say to him other than to apologise.

“You parade around feeling so entitled about everything, why don’t you make yourself useful for once and go help Chae?

“But Jungko-”

“Save it. We’ll call it even for your textbooks. Can you just go now?”

“Wait please, I’m sor-”

“JUST GO!”

He doesn’t wait for your next response and turns to head out the door, roughly pushing off the drunk and sweaty crowd that got in his way. All that’s left is for you to stare at his retreating back as you stomach the dread rising in you.

Congratulations, Miss Kim Y/n! You have officially pissed Jeon Jungkook off!

(∩｀-´)⊃━☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ

#jungkook angst #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #bts fanfic #jungkook college au #bts #bts imagines #bts smut #jungkook soft hours

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emmabirb8 · 5 days ago

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My first official venture into a super rare pair, EmmaStan, aka Emma-May Dixon and Stanley Pines!! @cosmo-shell and @slug-ball opened my eyes to the concept of these two, and WHOA the potential really stole my heart. It's absolutely not what they're serving out front, lmao, but the ship has bewitched me body and soul nonetheless. I just fell in love with the idea of these two tortured souls finding comfort in each other during the most difficult periods of their lives. They've been through HELL and deserve nice things. 😊💖 (And Emma-May in particular deserves WAY more love and attention in this fandom!)

My personal interpretation of Emma-May was mainly inspired by this piece by @birdskullz and this piece by @cosmo-shell.

Check out my AU fic for them here if you want! I haven't attempted a multi-chaptered fic in a VERY long time, lol, so hopefully this one will pan out well. First two chapters are up, but I've got more drafted out that will be posted very soon!

Writing out some key HCs about Emma-May and a rough timeline of events I constructed for my AU fic under the cut here:

Emma-May's family moved from Kansas to Tennessee when she was less than a year old, so she was raised in TN

Her mother is black while her father is white, and she has two older sisters

She became friends with Fiddleford and his siblings sometime during childhood

She attended college in New Jersey (went to a school I made up called “Gertrude University,” sort of a ref to the real university of Rutgers), majoring in botany, while Fidds ofc went to Backupsmore somewhere in the midwest

Met Stan by chance once as a college student about a year after he was kicked out of his house and was still struggling with treasure hunting (probably around 1970 or 1971)

Married Fidds anywhere from 1973-1975 when they were in their 20s – felt pressured from family and society to get married, but they were best friends and did love each other (but the marriage was covertly strained from the beginning bc neither could get what they truly needed from each other – best friends don't necessarily work as a married couple even if some level of attraction is there along with the love)

Had Tate in the early-mid 70s, both love him to pieces and Fidds was a very devoted father up until he started unraveling

Fidds left his family around the very late 70s to early 80s to work with Ford

Fidds abandoned the portal project in the early 80s, at that point already having started his descent into madness due to his reliance on the memory gun

Emma-May filed for divorce after becoming fed up with his bizarre behavior, lack of calls home, and a big fight they had around Christmas of the early 80s

The “homicidal pterodactyl-tron” attack happened during springtime after that Christmas, and this solidified Emma-May's decision to take Tate someplace safe (to stay with her aunt who lives in another state) while she set off to Gravity Falls herself to try to track Fiddleford down and figure out wtf happened to make him so different and dangerous

At some point either right before or after the pterodactyl attack, Fidds created the Society of the Blind Eye and subsequently lost what remained of his mind and memories

Emma-May bumped into Stan, once again by chance, the night before he arrived in Gravity Falls upon Ford's request

#gravity falls #gravity falls fanart #stanley pines #stan pines #grunkle stan #emma may dixon #emma may mcgucket #emmastan #my art #my posts #my design for em was also inspired by zazie beetz and leona lewis :3 #GF is a fantastic show #but it unfortunately at times still falls victim to not expanding enough upon or even straight up not involving #any of its female characters who aren't mabel #so i’m gonna fill in the gaps for emma-may however i see fit lol #pairing an often forgotten female character #with a well-established fan fave who's also MY personal fave #is simply my way of giving ME everything I want. :P

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hungermakesmonsters · 3 months ago

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Devotion & Desire

Chapter Four

Plot summary : When you, a lone omega, move in across the hall from alpha Bucky Barnes, he knows that his life is about to get a lot more complicated, but he has no idea just how much you’re going to turn his life upside down. You’re both devoted to fixing your past mistakes, but will desire for something more get the better of you?

Pairing : Alpha!Bucky Barnes x Omega!Reader

Story Rating : R

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Explicit smut and omega heat stuff. All chapters will contain the usual omegaverse and A/B/O tropes, and explicit smut. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story.

Word Count : 6.2k

A/N : 😅 still trying to walk the fine line between plot and smut

CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO | CHAPTER THREE

MASTER LIST

Chapter Four

It felt like a fever dream, like some terrible nightmare that started to fade from memory the moment your eyes opened. Only, it wasn’t. It had happened.

Bucky had -

No.

You didn’t even want to think about it. Regardless of how much it had helped, and how much you might have needed it at the time, you felt nothing but regret. Closing your eyes, you were assaulted by vivid memories of the way he’d touched you, the way you’d moaned for him, and perhaps worst of all, the way you’d kissed him.

Hours later, his scent still lingered in the room, mixed with yours, making you feel dizzy, giddy.

Somehow, you managed to pull yourself from the crude little nest you’d throw together with little more than sheets, sofa cushions and a couple of towels.

Everything ached and just the exertion of standing up and pulling on your leggings had your skin coated in a layer of sweat. You felt awful. And, as you took a step away from the bed, you felt like you were going to fall down. But you couldn’t stop. You needed to find Bucky. You needed him to know that it had been a mistake.

Staggering, you made your way to the door, weakly pulling it open and almost falling through it. But then another scent assaulted your senses; another alpha, someone you didn’t recognise.

He looked up at you, an easy smile pulling on his lips and, for a second, there was a faint hint of recognition. You thought you recognised him. But you couldn’t place how or where from. Your mind was a haze, the fog of your heat making it difficult for you to think straight.

“Hey, I’m Sam,” he said, clearly noticing your confusion. “I’m a friend of Bucky’s.”

“Where is he?” You asked, gripping the doorframe for support.

“He needed to go out, didn’t tell me where. I don’t know if you’ve noticed this, but he’s not exactly an open book,” Sam answered, letting out a warm sort of laugh that told you he and Bucky were close. “He asked me to keep an eye on you, in case you needed anything.”

Your eyes widened, thoughts heading in an unsettling direction. He’d asked another alpha to take care of you?

“Not like that,” Sam quickly clarified, holding up his hands, wanting to make sure there was no confusion. “I brought you some things.”

He gave a nod of his head towards two bags on the floor, a backpack, and a shopping bag filled with womens clothes.

“There’s some of my sister's clothes in there, she’s a beta and a bit bigger than you, but they should be alright,” he explained and you offered a muttered thank you.

You decided to keep your distance, clinging to the door frame while your legs trembled beneath you. Your eyes dropped for a moment, struggling with a strange mixture of feelings welling up inside you.

You felt abandoned by Bucky, even though you didn’t want him around in the first place. And you longed for him, despite hating him. Shaking your head, you tried to clear your mind and stop all the racing thoughts and unsettling feelings. It was just your heat making you feel things that you knew weren’t real, your biology trying to make you into a good omega for an alpha you had the misfortune of craving.

Looking at Sam again, you realised he was watching you, and recognition finally sparked within you.

“Wait... you’re the Falcon... or is it Captain America now?” The confusion was clear in your voice, only sounding half convinced that he was who you believed him to be.

“Just Sam is fine,” he replied with that easy smile.

You weren’t sure what it was about him, but he felt safe, like he was the sort of guy to wear his heart on his sleeve, unlike Bucky who was gruff and guarded. How the two of them could be friends, you couldn’t even begin to understand. So, you asked.

“Why is Captain America helping the Winter Soldier?”

“Because Bucky isn’t the Winter Soldier anymore,” Sam answered. Clearly the look on your face gave away that you didn’t believe him so, a moment later, Sam continued; “he told me what happened to you - to your brother - but you have to understand that while it might have been him, it wasn’t Bucky.”

“You think just because he was under mind control that he’s any less to blame?” You answered back, unintentionally allowing some of your anger to slip into your tone.

“Do you maybe want to take a second to think about what you just said?” Sam asked, his voice still calm and friendly. Your gaze dropped, hating that some part of you knew he was right to call you out. “I know it doesn’t change how you feel and it won’t bring your brother back, but if you think for a moment that it doesn’t hurt him almost as much as it hurts you, then -”

The sound of the door had him falling quiet. For whatever reason, he didn’t want Bucky to know that he’d just been defending him to you.

Stepping into the apartment, Bucky looked at Sam before noticing you standing in the doorway to the bedroom.

“Are you okay?” He asked. “Should you be up?”

“We were just getting to know each other,” Sam decided to answer before you got the chance.

Bucky grimaced. “What did you tell her?”

For a moment he looked at you, seeming so genuinely concerned that his friend might have told you something terrible, and you wondered if that was just how their friendship was or if Bucky was so unsure of himself that all he could do was jump to the worst conclusion.

“He didn’t say anything I don’t already know,” you answered.

It earned a surprised look from Sam, and it was as close as you’d ever get to actually agreeing with what he’d told you. But agreement and acceptance were two different things, and you still hated the Winter Soldier and, by extension, Bucky.

“Where have you been?” You dared to ask Bucky, realising that he was carrying a familiar looking box in his hands.

“I was in the neighbourhood, so I stopped at Gracie’s for a pie,” Bucky said, finally stepping further into the apartment.

“You’ve got ex-Hydra agents looking for you and you stopped for a pie?” Sam asked, like it was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard.

“It’s - it’s really good pie,” you said, your grip tightening on the doorframe, as a wave of cramping hit.

“Did you ask her about Rumlow yet?” Sam asked, seemingly from nowhere.

Your legs almost gave in beneath you at the sound of his name. Pressing yourself against the doorframe was the only thing that stopped you from falling.

Bucky was in front of you in an instant, before Sam was even half out of his seat. He reached for you to steady you, but you did everything you could to pull away and remain standing under your own steam.

“How do you know about Rumlow?” You asked, eyes moving between the two alphas.

“The guys that tried to take you, they used to work with him. We thought Rumlow died in Lagos years ago, but -” Sam explained, stopping when you shook your head.

“No... he’s alive,” you said.

“How does Rumlow fit into any of this?” Sam asked. “How do you know him?”

Your eyes drifted to Bucky, an uncomfortable feeling twisting your guts.

“He promised to help me track down and kill the Winter Soldier but he - he lied to me,” you explained without explaining, not wanting to say anything more than that.

“Why would he be after you now?” Bucky asked.

“I don’t -” a sudden surge of pain cut you off and almost had you doubling over.

Before you could even think to try and stop him, Bucky had hold of you, sweeping you off your feet with ease and carrying you back to bed. Moments later, he was gently placing you back down in your nest.

“You need to rest,” he told you softly, his fingers tenderly brushing your hair away from your face.

You struggled to keep your eyes open and Bucky took that as a sign to leave you. But, when he started to turn, you reached for him, weakly grasping his sleeve.

“We need to talk,” you told him, and watched as he glanced to the door making sure Sam wasn’t listening in. When you were both satisfied that you wouldn’t be overheard, you spoke. “Don’t go getting any ideas about last night. It - it shouldn’t’ve happened, it was just -”

“I get it,” he cut in. “I’m an alpha, you’re an omega. It’s just biology. It doesn’t mean anything.”

“Good ‘cause it can't happen again,” you said, barely able to even look him in the eye as you spoke.

His jaw clenched and, for a moment it almost seemed like he was angry - or maybe he was disappointed. It was hard to tell. Either way, it seemed like your words had more of an effect than you’d anticipated.

“Fair enough,” he said, his tone quickly becoming more distant, somehow colder. “I was just trying to help.”

“I don’t need your help.”

It was a stupid thing to say because you both knew it was entirely untrue but, at that exact moment, you believed your own bullshit.

“Clearly,” he remarked sarcastically, “you seem to be doing great on your own.”

When you didn’t seem to have a witty response for him, Bucky pulled away from you, breaking your hold on him, and you watched as he left the room, pulling the door shut behind him. All you could do for a few minutes was stare at the door, wondering if you’d somehow managed to hurt his feelings. “She seems -”

“She’s a pain in the ass,” Bucky finished the thought for Sam, stalking away from the closed door. Sam just watched Bucky for a moment as he grabbed the box with the pie and headed towards the kitchen. He waited a beat before following after, watching Bucky as he removed the pie from the box and cut himself a large slice without offering any to Sam.

“Okay, this is passive aggressive even for you,” Sam remarked, nodding at the pie, indicating he wanted a slice.

Bucky huffed before cutting his friend a slice significantly smaller than his own and stalking back into the den, taking a seat on the sofa to eat.

“Listen, if this is getting to you, I can watch her and you can go do... whatever it is you do when you go off on your own,” Sam offered cautiously as he took a seat.

Sam was too busy breaking off his first bite of pie with his fork to notice the way Bucky was glaring at him but, the moment he looked up, he had his answer.

“Okay,” Sam said, deciding it wasn’t worth starting an argument over, so he changed the subject. “Torres got back to me, he says he still hasn’t found any trace of her or who he really is, but he found out about Berlin...”

The statement was allowed to hang in the air between them, not speaking until Bucky gave some indication that he wanted to hear it and, even when he received that slight nod, Sam hesitated for a moment more.

He pulled out his phone and opened the file that Torres had sent him.

“It was in February, 2009. There was a tech conference in Berlin - but not for your run-of-the-mill iPhones and games consoles. It was all military grade tech,” Sam explained, watching Bucky for any negative reactions or flickers of recollection. “We’re talking big like Stark Tech, Hammer Industries, A.I.M. -”

“I get the picture,” Bucky interrupted.

“Well, there were rumours about some new satellite tech, something that would have allowed whoever had control of it to spy on anyone, to break into any system, to watch anyone they wanted. It was years ahead of its time. From what we can tell it was the sort of thing that a group like Hydra wouldn’t want falling into the wrong hands.”

“So they sent me,” Bucky sighed. “What else did you find out?”

Again, Sam hesitated for a few seconds.

“The crime scene report from the hotel; it says her brother checked in under a false name, assumed to be travelling alone, and the crime scene photos... they show that he put up a fight...” Instead of explaining it, Sam handed his phone to Bucky, watching as he took in the crime scene photos and the evidence list before going very quiet and very still. He let a minute pass in silent contemplation before he spoke again.

“He was hiding something,” he sighed, his eyes closing for a moment and his head hanging forward, the memories flooding back to him. “I was sent to get everything he had. I got the drive with the schematics but I - I thought he was holding something back. And he was. He was protecting his sister while she hid. I tortured him and he refused to give her up...”

Putting Sam’s phone down, he stood, his slice of pie forgotten and abandoned.

Sam didn’t say anything as Bucky walked towards the window, putting his back to his friend, not wanting Sam to see the pain and self-loathing on his face. But Sam wasn’t prepared to let him wallow.

“So, what now?” Sam asked.

“What do you mean ‘what now’?”

“What comes next, Buck? You know why she tried to kill you, now how are you going to make amends?”

“Don’t start with the therapy-talk, Sam. I’m not in the mood,” Bucky snapped.

“Well you better get in the mood, because there’s a person in that room who needs your help, and if you’re not willing to look after her -”

“I never said that.” Bucky turned back to face Sam, conviction clear in his voice. “Of course I’ll look after her.

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

You lost track of time the moment you were placed back in bed. You thought that you could hear their voices through the door but maybe it was just delirium from the fever playing tricks on you. Everything hurt. Your muscles ached and your joints felt stiff, and your temperature continued to climb.

Turning this way and that, you tried to get comfortable, tried to find just the right angle to lay at to make the pain stop.

It wasn’t long before there was something else beneath the pain, that desperate longing that you couldn’t control, that need that had your hand pawing at your thighs, desperate to touch yourself but knowing that, once you started, you wouldn’t be able to stop.

The more you denied yourself, the more it hurt, until it felt like your insides were burning.

You reached for the water bottle on the nightstand, only to clumsily knock it onto the floor and, when you leaned down to try and retrieve it, your vision started to swim.

The next thing you knew, you were on the floor. There was no telling if it was the sound of the bottle falling or your knees hitting the floor that alerted Bucky, but he was at your side in seconds, swearing and placing his hand on your forehead to feel how hot your fever was running.

“You should’ve told me it had gotten this bad,” he muttered as he scooped you off the floor and started to carry you through the apartment.

“Where are you taking me?” You asked, the words feeling heavy on your tongue.

Bucky didn’t answer, but it soon became clear.

He took you into the bathroom, carrying you into the shower and quickly started up the cold water.

A relieved gasp left your lips at the feel of the cold water on your skin, soaking into your sweat-drenched clothes. Your head dropped onto his shoulder, letting him hold you under the water for what felt like hours. You tried to mutter something, an awkward thank you, but the words came out as little more than incomprehensible babble. Bucky simply shushed you, his arms holding you a little tighter.

It didn’t even cross your mind that you were both still dressed or that the cold must have been uncomfortable for Bucky. It finally felt like you could breathe again, like you weren’t being smothered by the fever. Your eyes closed and you relaxed in his arms, coming to the uncomfortable realisation that moments like this were why omegas needed alphas.

You shifted, moving your head, barely even noticing that you were doing it until your nose was pressed to his gland and every breath you took was him.

Somehow you managed to fall asleep in his arms, and you had no idea how long he held you under the water before drying you off as best he could and returning you to bed.

But you didn’t sleep for long and, when your eyes opened again, you found him sitting on the floor beside your bed, glancing over his shoulder at you as you reached for the fresh, cold bottle of water he’d left on the nightstand for you.

“I remember,” he told you cryptically, looking forward again, facing away from you.

“What?”

“Your brother. That night in Berlin… everything I did...”

There was something in his voice, in the slump of his shoulders, that had you remembering Sam’s words to you, and it made your stomach twist uncomfortably.

“I’m sorry,” he added a moment later. “I understand why you hate me so much now.”

It sounded genuine, it sounded like he really was sorry, like the memory of what he’d done was causing him as much pain as it did you. And you didn’t want to hear it. You weren’t prepared for any of this; after years of seeing him as a monster, having your brother’s brutal murder as your only frame of reference, you found that this contrite, apologetic Bucky didn’t fit the role of the man you wanted to blame.

And it left you annoyed. It left you feeling like all the time you’d spent, the years of your life you’d wasted and the terrible things you’d endured to get to him, to make him suffer, had all been for nothing.

How could you hurt this man who seemed so pained by his own existence?

An awkward, uncomfortable sound escaped you as you laid back, your frustration bubbling over and leaving you at a total loss.

Bucky had no idea what was going through your head, he could only assume that you were still in pain.

“It’s going to get worse, isn’t it?” He asked with a noticeable hesitation. “It gets worse after the halfway point, right?”

“Have you been Googling heats?” At any other time you would have taken a mocking tone, but you were too exhausted and overwhelmed to even think about it.

With Bucky so close, you found it harder to control your baser desires, the omega part of you that craved an alpha, that craved him. But Bucky didn’t even seem to notice.

“Yeah, I -” he let out an awkward sigh, “- I’ve never had to deal with anything like this before and I know last night wasn’t... I mean, I know you didn’t...”

Not wanting to watch him struggle, you decided to put him out of his misery and move the conversation along, if only because talking was better than thinking and you needed something to keep your mind from straying too far.

“You’ve never had an omega before?” You asked.

“Not... not like this,” he said but didn’t go into any detail about what that meant. “In the decades that I was with Hydra, they mostly kept me on ice, and I didn’t exactly get to meet anyone.”

Silence fell and he moved, lifting himself onto his knees and turning to face you. Before you could ask what he was doing, you saw him reaching for the bowl of water and the washcloth. He gently pressed it to your burning cheeks and, for a few minutes he seemed content to remain silent, but it didn’t last.

“It’s because of the suppressants, isn’t it? That’s why it’s so bad,” he asked, and you confirmed his suspicions with little more than a glance. “Why did you take them for so long?”

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me.”

“Because being an omega fucking sucks,” you said with a sigh. “Do you have any idea what it’s like to feel weak and helpless all the time? To have people look at you like you only exist for a single purpose?”

He took an awkward breath, then answered. “More than you know.”

For a moment you considered his words, considered the implications. He’d been a killer, Hydra’s attack dog, only ever let off-leash when he was needed to kill someone. It had been his life, his purpose. The sense of understanding you felt was uncomfortable, further confusing how you felt about him. And you hated it. You didn’t want to feel sorry for him, you didn’t want to feel anything at all.

“At least you’re an alpha,” you said grimly, “you get to fuck instead of being fucked.”

“It still doesn't explain the suppressants.”

“I started taking them because I didn’t want to get stuck being some alpha’s omega again...”

“Wait...” it took a second but he finally seemed to start putting it together. “You and Rumlow?”

You gave only the slightest of nods. Bucky didn’t say anything, but his silence made it obvious that he wanted you to explain.

“I was trying to track you down the Winter Soldier. I didn’t realise he was Hydra when I tried to buy information from him.” You couldn’t look at Bucky as you spoke, as the anger started to slip into your voice. “He promised he would help me, he took me in and - I was young and stupid, and by the time I realised I was trapped, it was too late. He wanted to claim me, but I rejected him, so he did the next best thing and kept me...”

From the corner of your eye, you caught sight of his vibranium hand curling into a tight fist.

“He disappeared in the blip and I got away. Since then I’ve done everything I can to present as a beta.”

“Why is he after you now?” Bucky asked.

“I don’t know. I guess when you were looking into me, it must have flagged something somewhere, and he came looking,” you answered, feeling your stomach knot at the thought. “Brock, he - he doesn’t like to lose and he doesn’t like to be told no. He thinks I’m his...”

“Well, he’s not getting you back,” Bucky stated with an angry certainty that you didn’t understand.

You looked at him, not sure you wanted to ask and, by the time you’d decided that you probably should, it was too late. He got to his feet and headed for the door, telling you to shout if you needed anything.

For a time you just lay there, staring up at the ceiling, trying to make sense of everything that had happened, everything that was still happening.

You had wanted Bucky to suffer for killing your brother, but you wanted to be the cause of that suffering, not his own remorse over his actions. And, again, you found yourself thinking back to your conversation with Sam, the way you’d had to concede that it hadn’t even been Bucky who killed your brother.

Round and round, there was no escaping all the thoughts and questions in your head, all the things that made you angry and the things you couldn’t control.

And, soon enough, it became hard to think about anything but the torture your own body was putting you through. Your temperature started to rise again and you squirmed awkwardly, pressing your thighs together, slick starting to soak through your underwear.

Then you remembered the bags by the bedroom door, the clean clothes Sam had brought for you.

On shaky legs you made your way out of the bedroom, expecting to find Bucky on the sofa but, instead, you could hear the shower running again - why was he showering again? The thought quickly left your mind as you started rummaging through the bags. One bag was filled with womens clothes and the other -

Fuck.

The backpack was basically a bio-weapon, filled with Bucky’s clothes, shirts and sweatpants that hadn’t been laundered. And, before you knew what you were doing, you’d taken one of his shirts and were heading back to your nest with it, not thinking to close the bedroom door behind you, suddenly consumed by your baser urges.

Falling onto the bed, you pressed his shirt to your nose and inhaled his scent.

You hated yourself for how much you craved him, how much you wanted to be wrapped up in his scent, in him. You twitched and squirmed, that awful, longing ache burning through you again. It wasn’t long before your hand was reaching between your thighs and soft whines started to escape you.

At some point the shower stopped, and your eyes opened to find Bucky in the doorway, wearing nothing but a towel slung low around his waist, his eyes fixed on you. Just the sight of his exposed chest and abs, still damp from the shower, was enough to cause a dramatic spike in your arousal.

Despite your embarrassment, your hand kept moving, fingers strumming your clit through your slick-soaked panties while you held his shirt to your nose. And Bucky watched.

“Bucky...”

That moan was all the invitation he needed to cross the room. Even as he came to stand over you, your fingers didn’t stop, in fact they got faster, desperate. More little whimpers and moans escaped you, but he didn’t touch you, didn’t attempt to give you what you needed, what you craved. He just watched and his gaze alone was all it took to break your resolve.

“Please?” You finally begged.

“You sure you want my help again, little mouse?”

You nodded. Despite everything you’d told him after the last time, you nodded. Desperately. Enthusiastically.

Bucky didn’t need any more than that, climbing onto the bed and kneeling between your legs. His hands felt cold as they slipped up your thighs to pull away your wet panties. (Somewhere in the back of your mind you realised he’d been having a cold shower, but in your needy, muddled state, you couldn’t understand why.)

Without hesitation or ceremony, a cold metal finger ran through your folds before sinking inside you, moving slowly, as if he thought you needed warming up.

Your head dropped back on the pillow and your hips started to move against his hand, desperate for more. You were so caught up in the feeling, in the need for more, for everything, that you didn’t realise he’d lowered his head until you felt his heavy breath against your inner thigh and you felt the slow drag of his tongue over your thigh gland.

A desperate moan tore from your lips, your eyes opened and you looked down to see him between your legs. The sight alone was enough to cause you to clench around his finger and leave you on the precipice of orgasm.

Without thinking, your hand reached for him, tangling in his hair. His eyes stayed fixed on yours as his tongue ran along your gland again, this time licking higher, groaning against your skin, letting out sounds that made it seem like he was the one in need instead of you.

You jolted, back arching the moment his tongue found your clit. His free hand pressed on your stomach, pinning you down while his vibranium hand continued to slowly fuck you with a deliberately teasing pace. His tongue moved just as slowly, causing you to whimper and keen, your fingers tightening in his hair, trying to pull him closer.

The pressure built up in you slowly and the sounds you were making got more desperate and eager.

You just about screamed when he started to suck your clit and bent his finger inside you, finding that sensitive spot, causing you to come almost instantly. As you trembled and shuddered, your hand reached for his hand on your stomach and pulled it upwards, pushing up your baggy tee-shirt and placing it on your breast. Your other hand remained in his hair, holding tight, ensuring that his head stayed between your thighs.

He stilled for a few moments, letting you ride out one orgasm before starting to lead you towards the next. A second cold, metal finger slid inside you with ease, your back arching a little, your own fingers twisting in his hair and tugging harder.

You’d told him never again, but after the second orgasm pulled from you by his fingers and his tongue, some part of you knew you wouldn’t survive if you never got to experience this bliss again.

After the third orgasm, he finally lifted his head and slowly started to move up your body, and you let him. No, you encouraged him, tugging on his hair until his face was only inches from yours. You both hesitated as he looked down at you, his fingers still fucking you at that delicious pace.

“It’s just biology,” he muttered softly, as if he was giving both of you permission to give in to each other.

Finally, you lifted your head, your lips clumsily crashing into his and igniting a desperate kiss that seemed to go on and on, until a final fourth orgasm was pulled from you. Even then, as his fingers stilled and finally slipped from your trembling body, his lips lingered against yours, and your fingers remained tangled in his hair

When your body slumped back, exhausted, Bucky remained above you for a few moments more before finally withdrawing, getting up and leaving the room, and leaving you more confused than ever. But at least some of the pain had subsided. He wasn’t gone for long.

After a few minutes he returned fully dressed and with two plates, each with a slice of pie.

He placed one on the bed beside you before sitting back down on the floor next to your bed. Despite what you’d just done, now that it was over, he seemed to want to maintain a polite distance.

“Gracie’s apple pie?” You muttered, tired but definitely hungry enough to eat.

Bucky gave a hum of acknowledgement. “She said it was your favourite.”

You fell silent, staring at the pie, thinking about the life you could have had; the murder plot aside, you’d liked working at Gracie’s and you liked the friends you’d made. But it was all gone now. You couldn’t go back and tell them you’d been lying to them about who you were just to get close to Bucky.

You were going to be alone again.

And that thought hurt.

“At least I get to have it one last time,” you muttered as you sat back against the headboard and started to eat.

“Last time?” He repeated, confused.

“It’s not like I can go back after... y’know all the lies and everything,” you said.

“I think they’d be a lot more understanding than you think,” he offered through a mouthful of pie.

“Right, I’ll just come out and tell them that the sweet little omega act was all a lie, and I was only being nice to them so I could get close enough to kill you,” you retorted.

Honestly, you might have laughed if it hadn’t made you feel so pathetic and alone.

“Sometimes people are willing to forgive a lot if you apologise,” Bucky shrugged.

You weren’t sure if he was suggesting that you should forgive him or trying to let you know that he’d already forgiven you. You didn’t ask. Both of you fell silent while you ate. And, not long after finishing, you managed to fall asleep again.

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

The sound of muttering woke you up. You quickly realised that it was Bucky. He was laid on the floor in his boxers with nothing but a pillow for comfort, thrashing and grumbling in his sleep, obviously having a nightmare. He must have decided to sleep on the floor to be close in case you needed him in the night and - fuck, you didn’t even want to think about how that made you feel.

All you knew for certain - all you were willing to admit - was that you hated seeing him like that. As someone who knew what it was like to be plagued by nightmares, you wouldn’t have wished it on your worst enemy.

You half-fell out of bed, landing on your hands and knees, before slumping down beside him. Moving closer, you pressed yourself into his side and draped your arm over his body, your face against his neck, nose inches from his gland.

He quickly stilled and you heard a sharp inhale as he woke up.

“What -” he started, sounding exhausted and confused.

“Shut up,” you half-demanded, half-begged, not wanting to explain it to him.

He didn’t say anything else. A moment later, his arm was around you, pulling you closer. Instinctively, your leg moved over his thigh, tangling your bodies together. His hand pressed against your cheek for a moment before brushing your hair away from your face.

“You’re burning up,” Bucky muttered, “do you need -”

“No, just - just don’t move,” you whined, wanting to hold him, wanting to feel safe in his arms even though you knew it was the most dangerous place for you. “Just... please don’t move.”

“Okay, mouse...” he muttered softly, shifting just a fraction so you could share his pillow.

Slowly but surely, you felt him relax and, as he did, you did too, shifting closer so his thigh was pressed between yours. Right then, you didn’t need or want more than that, you were content just feeling his body against yours.

But, like every other still moment that you’d managed to find during your heat so far, it didn’t last.

After a few hours you woke to that awful, cramping sensation in your stomach. He was still sleeping, still holding you so tight, and you didn’t want to wake him but his thigh between yours became impossible to ignore. You started to move slowly, grinding yourself against him, slick quickly soaking your panties and his thigh. At first you tried to be gentle, but it wasn’t enough, it wasn’t what you needed.

Bucky woke to find you desperately grinding against his thigh like a feral, horny animal. If you hadn’t felt so desperate, you would have felt your cheeks burning with shame. But you were desperate and you needed something to stop the pain. You needed him.

He didn’t speak, didn’t ask what you were doing, he just pressed his thigh against you and turned his head toward yours. As your head fell back, his lips pressed to your throat, kissing, licking and sucking their way towards your gland, and causing you to let out a desperate moan.

You pressed closer still, until the only way you could get close enough was to straddle his lap. You weren’t shocked to find that he was hard - it barely even crossed your mind, too deep in your own desperate needs to think straight anymore. His hips lifted, pressing against you as you both started to move, each of you seeking something from the other as you slick quickly soaked through your panties and began to wet his boxers.

Leaning back, you pulled off your top and led his vibranium hand to your breast, moaning as a cold metal thumb brushed against your nipple. You kept him trapped beneath you, your hands on his chest, holding him down, as if you really thought that you could restrain him. But Bucky let you, he stayed exactly where you wanted him, letting you take what you needed from him.

Your moans got wilder and more desperate, his name slipping from your lips over and over again as you neared orgasm. His flesh hand gripped your hip as he continued to grind up against you, letting out little grunt and groans of his own as he stared up at you through the gloom.

As you came you felt his cock twitch between your thighs and heard his own gasped moan, and you realised that he’d come too.

You collapsed on top of him, your body trembling from your release, slick now coating your thighs and his, and something else, something soaking through Bucky’s boxers. Sprawled against his chest, you buried your face against his neck, breathing in his scent, and clinging to him, not willing to let go. Bucky’s arms wrapped tight around you, holding you as you shook and shivered, and finally fell asleep again.

End Note : Anyone who doesn't read my Billy Russo fics, and didn't see me mention it there, I just want to give a heads up that I broke a key off my laptop (the T key for anyone interested) so I'm having to use a laggy bluetooth keyboard to write atm. Sorry if any weird typos have slipped through, it's probably because of the keyboard. Anyway, hope you enjoy this chapter!!

And thanks so much for the likes/comments/reblogs on the last chapter, it really means a lot to me!

If you'd like to be tagged in future chapters, let me know!

Tag List : @greatenthusiasttidalwave @bighappypiels @maddiedrmr @dreadfulxives18 @scott-loki-barnes

@thecraziestcrayon @silas-aeiou @danzer8705 @notpotatocap

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #alpha!bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #marvel omegaverse #tfatws #devotion ff #bucky barnes fanfiction

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biconickyoshi · 1 year ago

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Zuko and Aang as they appear in Book 2: Water of my slowburn Zukaang AU, The Avatar and the Fire Prince!

Overall Synopsis (for new readers):

In the year 96 AG, a freshly burned and banished 13-year-old Prince Zuko discovers a strange boy frozen in an iceberg. When Zhao interferes with Zuko's plans to deliver the Avatar to his father, Aang helps Zuko and Iroh escape. They take refuge in the abandoned Air Temples, Aang searching for any remnants of his people that he can find. Along the way, he teaches an indoctrinated Zuko about the true nature of the Air Nomads. Zuko must come to terms with the fact that everything he has been taught was a lie, while Iroh must acknowledge and face the sins of his past. Eventually, Aang and Zuko become close friends, and Zuko begins to feel things he has never felt for anyone before. However, Zhao will not give up easily, and will do whatever it takes to capture the Avatar and his traitor accomplices.

Book 2 Synopsis:

Zuko and Iroh have now officially denounced the Fire Nation and the Royal Family and are dedicating themselves to helping Aang fight against the forces of their homeland. After narrowly escaping Admiral Zhao at Crescent Island during the winter solstice of 96 AG, Aang, Zuko, and Iroh travel south in search of the Southern Water Tribe village Aang has been dreaming about. The village is in danger: the Southern Raiders are coming, and it will be up to our trio - with the help of a couple of Water Tribe siblings - to unite the remaining villages of the Southern Water Tribe so that they will stand a fighting chance.

I got an iPad for Xmas and I’ve spent the past couple days working on this! :) I’m super happy with how it turned out!

Zuko’s about 14 here - his hair length is how it looks about halfway through this Book. I’ll probably do another piece to show what he looks like at the end of the Book since his hair is a lot longer now with it being almost a year since he cut it in the AU’s timeline (we’re now approaching the Northern Water Tribe storyline). I’ve also never drawn weapons before… so I hope his broadswords don’t look too wonky 😅

Aang is about 13 here. He’s wearing a new outfit as well, which I thought made sense since this AU takes place over 3-4 years instead of less than one year like in the OG series. Aang’s gonna grow a lot over the course of this AU, so he can’t just keep wearing his Air Nomad trainee clothes indefinitely lol.

I plan to do a lot more pieces in the future as I get the hang of digital art, so I would like to draw more characters (like Iroh, Sokka, and Katara) and more looks for Aang and Zuko. I’m also really excited for Book 3, which will be Earth in my fic (Earth is my absolute favorite season of the OG show). Zuko’s hair will probably be long enough to pull back into a ponytail again at some point during that book… Though this time it will be a different style :) gotta do some brainstorming for that one!

I’m close to wrapping up the next chapter, in which our characters make a return to the Northern Air Temple! I haven’t had as much time to work on it recently just due to all the holiday stuff that’s been going on. It’s probably gonna be a shorter chapter as well (which I don’t mind, I hope y’all don’t either). But after that, we’ll finally be in the Northern Water Tribe! :)

#the avatar and the fire prince #taatfp #my art #atla #atla au #zuko #aang #atla fan art #avatar the last airbender au #zukaang #zukaang au #zukaang fanfic #atla fanfic #zuko x aang #aang x zuko #ao3

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thetriumphantpanda · 1 year ago

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get down on your knees and tell me you love me | javier peña

Take The Weight Off His Shoulders - Chapter Six

Chapter Summary | There is something about Javier Peña that makes you bold, makes you want to prove to him that you're a woman, not the girl he used to know, and how better to prove in than getting down on your knees for him?

Chapter Warnings | A pretty tame one, all things considered. Public-ish oral sex (M), Javi talking you through sucking him off, inexperienced reader, cum eating, no use of y/n and some advancement of the plot.

Pairing | dbf!Javier Peña x F!Reader

Word Count | 3K

Authors Note | LET ME TELL YOU. THIS CHAPTER HAS BEEN LIVING RENT FREE IN MY MIND SINCE THE CONCEPTION OF THE FIC. I hope you love it just as much as I do and that you're still enjoying the sprinkling of plot that comes along with it. If you're enjoying this then reblogs and comments really do help and if you’d like to support me further, please consider a donation to my Ko-Fi.

Thank you to the incredible @perotovar for letting me use her beautiful gif for this chapter!

I no longer use taglists. Please follow @thetriumphantpandanotifs to be notified of new updates.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi | Series Playlist

It’s Friday night and the bar is busy. You and Liv were lucky to get a table. It’s loud, full of patrons trying shouting orders at the bar, the smell of fried food wafting through the air, as well as the sound of disagreements at the jukebox over what song someone will play next, but its your happy place, always has been, especially when you’ve got a birds eye view straight across to Javier Peña, sat sipping beer with your dad.

“Are you going to look at me at all tonight?” Liv asks, mouth full of the fries she’d ordered for you both.

“Sorry,” You mumble, dragging your eyes away from Javi, who seems to be having a similarly hard time tearing his from you, “What were you saying?”

“I was trying to tell you,” She starts, picking up another fry to stuff into her mouth, “That I remembered something about that party.”

“What party?” You ask, picking up your own fry, biting half of it off into your mouth, dipping the other half into the pile of ketchup on the side of the plate.

“You remember calling me from work earlier in the week?” She asks, “The party at the house that got busted?” She smiles when there’s a flicker of recognition on your face, “Well, I remember that it was Vanessa that invited us, so,” She picks up another fry, “You’ll be so proud of me for this, I did some digging,” She looks pleased as punch, which makes you chuckle, “I spoke to her, and she said it was Tyler who hosted the party.”

“Tyler?” You ask, “As in, Tyler Johnson?”

“The one and only.”

You pick up another fry, the pile dwindling in front of you slowly. Tyler Johnson. Oldest son of Richard Johnson. Long-standing mayor of Laredo. His family had been in power in town for as long as anyone could remember. Tyler, raised to follow in his father’s footsteps had faltered, opting, much to the chagrin of his family, to choose to say no to college. As far as you knew, he didn’t really see much of his family, worked at the local manufacturing company and spent most of his free time hanging around outside of bars trying to chat women up. His younger brother, Garrett, having taken up the banner, currently deep into his bid to become the youngest mayor Laredo had ever seen.

“Why the hell was he doing hosting a party in an abandoned house?”

“I don’t know,” Liv shrugs, taking the last fry off the plate, “That’s for you to find out, isn’t it?”

Unable to argue with her logic, you shrug, “You think he’s the kinda guy to get involved in that kind of shit?”

It’s confusing to you, because although he’s the perfect candidate for it, estranged family, always in the shadow of his younger brother, anytime you’d come across him, he’d seemed pretty straight-laced to you. Sure, he’d been drunk a few times, but never seemed like the kind of guy to take drugs, let alone be hoarding it in a house he didn’t even own. But then, Dylan hadn’t seemed to be the guy to take enough drugs to die of an overdose, so you suppose anything could be true in this case.

“The deadbeat son, disappointment to his family, who has never amounted to anything?” Liv chuckles, “Yeah, seems the type to me.”

Something doesn’t particularly seem to settle right about this for you, but that’s for next week. You shake your head a little, letting your eyes drift back over Liv’s shoulder to where Javi is sitting, looking straight back at you. When you meet his eyes, he throws a wink your way.

“What on earth are you staring at?!” Liv squeals, turning around to follow your eye line, finding Javi right there, “Oh.”

She turns back around to you, and you had wanted to try and keep it at least a little cool, but the wink he’s given you, paired with the smirk on his mouth, as heat flushing across your face, your bottom lip sucked between your bottom teeth, and your eyes on the grain of the table under your arms.

“Girl!” Liv reaches over, slapping your arm gently, “Have you fucked him?!”

“No!” You exclaimed, “Keep your voice down for crying out loud.”

“You’ve done something though, haven’t you?” She prods, smirk on her face, “I’m right aren’t I?”

Closing your eyes, you can’t help but smile, looking up at her as sheepishly as possible. Javi’s words ring in your ears, probably best we don’t tell anyone about this, but technically if she guesses, you haven’t told anyone.

“Shut up.” Is all you say, but there’s heat flushing all over you and a smile you can’t hide on your mouth.

“You lucky bitch!” She’s smiling so wide, squeezing at your arm, “Is he any good?”

Rolling your eyes, you sigh, shaking your head, “I don’t kiss and tell,” You sigh, chin resting on your palm as you look over the bar at him, currently locked in conversation with your dad about something, he looks so fucking good in his plaid shirt, arms rolled up to his elbows, “God, he’s so good looking, wish I could have five minutes with him.” You muse out loud.

Your eyes flit back to Liv, who has a devilish look on her face, “Say no more,” She smirks, “You want another beer? Perhaps you need the bathroom?”

You twig almost immediately, as she stands up, chair scraping, pulling the attention of people around who are looking at what the noise was. Shooting your eyes over to Javi, you note that your dad has already figured the noise was nothing, he’s gone back to talking to the side of Javi’s face that’s given to him, as he looks directly at you. You tilt your head toward the door, give him a smile and start walking towards it, as Liv makes a beeline to the bar.

You’ve not made it halfway down the hall when you feel a hand circling your wrist. Turning to the side, Javi is there at your side.

“I want to kiss you so badly.” He speaks softly, but even you know that there are too many eyes here.

You make it to the end of the hallway, faced with a choice, you push on the handle for the single disabled stall, finding it open, you pull Javi into it, closing the door, enjoying the ‘snick’ of the lock closing too.

“Now you can.” You smile, pressing your back up against the door.

Javi is pressed against you in no time, palms warm on your cheeks as he leans down, mouth slanting over yours, soft and warm, pulling away from you before you have the chance to wrap a hand around the back of his neck and deepen it by opening your mouth against his.

You’ve got a corner of your bottom lip sucked between your teeth, eyes looking up at him through lashes as his hand rests on your waist, “Javi?”

“Hmm?” He muses, eyes trailing up and down your front, stalling slightly where your shirt reveals your cleavage, before his brown orbs meet your own eyes.

“I think I want to suck your cock.”

His face is a picture you wish you could keep forever, eyes wide, mouth hanging open, shock written over every inch of him. His hand on your waist grips tightly, like he can’t believe what you’ve just said.

“Baby,” He coos, “We don’t have time.”

“You underestimate Liv’s ability to talk to my dad about utter nonsense.”

“What happened to keeping a secret?” He asks, eyebrow cocked, “Thought you were a good girl.”

“Technically I didn’t tell her,” You shrug, hands trailing up his chest to rest on his shoulders, “She guessed.”

“You really want to suck my cock in a bar bathroom?” He asks, leaning forward a little, his mouth just centimetres from your own, “Definitely not the good girl you make out to be, are you?”

“I just want to return the favour.” You shrug, memory flashing to earlier this week when he had you pinned against a brick wall with his hands down your trousers.

“Okay baby,” He relents, stepping back a little to turn you both, his back now against the door, “But we have to be quick.”

His palms press gently into your shoulders, watching with darkened eyes as you sink to your knees in front of him. Your hands rest on his belt as anxiety spreads through your stomach. Javi notices your pause, his hands holding onto your own at his waistband, “If you don’t want to, you don’t have to.” He insists.

You shake your head, “No, I want to,” You respond, “I’ve just-” You trail off, lip back between your teeth, “Never done this before.”

Javi sucks in a deep breath, looking down at you at you. He cups your cheek, thumb rubbing across the skin underneath it, “God damn it baby,” He sighs, almost pained, “You can’t say stuff like that and then look at me with those eyes.”

It’s performative but you flutter your eyelashes at him, a small smile across your mouth, “Will you teach me?”

He closes his eyes, taking in a deep breath, but then his hands are moving to his belt, undoing it in front of your face. You can already see that he’s half-hard behind his jeans. Javi undoes the button and pulls down the zipper, and then motions with his head for you to do the rest.

Hooking your fingers into the waistband of his underwear, you shuffle back a little, pull them down his thighs. You can’t help but gasp when you pull them down enough to fry his cock, watching it bounce slightly in your face. He’s big. Almost like he can sense your trepidation, Javi is reaching down, squeezing your wrists in comfort.

“It’s okay, cariño,” He coos, “We’ll take it easy this time.”

He drags his hand down to grip at one of your hands, moving it to get you to grip onto the base of his cock with your fist.

“Move your hand up and down a little first,” He instructs, moving your hand with his own, “Just like that.”

Then he’s taking his hand away, letting you handle this on your own. You look up at him from your knees, smiling a little to yourself when he tips his head back slightly against the door, hips bucking gently into the movement of your hand.

Almost like he remembers he’s meant to be teaching you what to do, Javi looks down at you, his hand trailing to rest at the back of your head, “Open your mouth,” He says softly, batting your hand away from his cock, gripping it himself to guide it towards your open mouth, “Use your tongue a little,” He instructs, “Just on the tip for now.”

His voice is low and gravelly, which makes your pussy clench a little. You shift on your knees, trying to get some friction to relieve the ache you’re feeling, as you do as he says, using your tongue to lave attention to the tip of his cock, swirling it around but also stopping every now and again to give small kitten licks to the tip, preening to yourself when he lets out a low groan.

“Think you can take more, cariño?” Javi groans, hand clutching your chin so you’re looking at him, “Just wrap your lips around me and take me in as far as you can.”

You do as you’re told, sealing your lips around the head of his cock, flattening your tongue along the underside of him, before moving your mouth down as far as you can before he’s brushing against the back of your throat.

“That’s it,” He praises, “Good girl.”

The praise makes you swoon as you move your lips back to the tip and then back down again, looking up at him through your lashes, finding his head tipped back against the door, his chest heaving with heavy breathes, his mouth open, with a whispered ‘fuck’ breathed out as you move your mouth up and down a little faster.

“You’re doing so good for me,” His tone is heavy, lust-filled, and just like before, the praise goes right to your cunt, “Use your hand on the bit your mouth doesn’t reach.”

So you do, circle your hand around the base of his cock, pumping your hand up as your mouth moves down. Javi is more vocal, his hand on the back of your head, gently guiding your head to the movements he likes.

“So fucking good,” He breathes out above you, bucking his hips into you as you move down his length, “Gonna make me come, querida,” He warns, which only makes you double the efforts of your mouth on him, “Where do you want it?”

You pull of him now, still pumping his length with your hand as you look up at him through your lashes, “Where do you want it?” You ask, innocent as the day you were born.

“I don’t think you want what I want.” He says simply, breath panting as he thrusts into your palm.

“Try me, Peña.”

“Jesus, girl,” He chuckles a little, “Where’s that innocent, little thing gone?”

“I think I left her in an alley somewhere in town.”

He sucks in a breath, baring his teeth a little as he works as hard as he can to keep it together, towering above you.

“You want me to come in your mouth, huh?” The hand on the back of your head is now cradling your cheek, “That what you want?”

Instead of answering, all you do is stick your tongue out for him, guiding him back to rest on your tongue. You don’t do anything else though, just look up at him, waiting for him to give you what you want.

He does exactly what you want him to. Taking himself in his fist, he moves his hand up and down his length, furiously tugging himself until he’s moaning, head thrown back, with his cum aimed right onto your tongue, giving you every last drop. He looks down at you, pulling himself from your mouth. It’s a taste you’re not used to, musky, masculine and you’re sure distinctly Javi, but it’s not necessarily unpleasant, so you close your mouth and swallow everything he gave you whilst looking him dead in the eye.

You’re both breathing heavily, looking at each other until you start giggling, which sets Javi off chuckling as he helps you from the floor once he’s put himself right.

“Did you really leave your friend to entertain your dad so you could suck my dick in a public bathroom?” He asks, palm on the small of your back pressing you into his front, leaning down so his lips are close enough to your lips that you can feel the heat of his breath on your skin.

“I think I did, yeah.” You chuckle breathlessly, letting him press his mouth to yours.

“Think you better go back in there and save her,” He says against your mouth, “But call me later, and I’ll help you with this.” His hand dragging down your front to cup your pussy through your shorts, where he knows you’ll be soaked.

“I’m counting on it.”

You don’t really think about leaving at different times until you spot Liv sitting in Javi’s old stool, talking to your dad.

“Well, there they are!” His voice booms when you get close enough to the table, “Where the hell have you been?”

Sucking your friends cock in the bathroom, dad. Is what you think.

“Oh, I was just asking Javi about something for work.” Is what you actually say.

“Well, it was lovely to catch up!” Liv says to your dad, slipping off the stool for Javi to sit back on, “But we’ve got very important girl gossip to catch up on.

Then she’s dragging you away, back to your table, where you spend the rest of the night talking, eyes drifting over to Javi, his own meeting yours when he can.

Yeah. You’re fucked.

Monday afternoon comes in a flurry, your boss poking her head from around her office door, catching your attention as she motions for you to come in and meet her. You swallow, a little nervous, because the piece you promised her would be done, is now blown wide open with the addition of Tyler Johnson hosting a party in a drug den. Picking up your notepad and pen, you resign yourself to a telling off for being slow as you settle into one of the chairs in her office.

“How’s the piece coming along?” She asks, making you swallow a little.

“Well,” You start, deciding to be honest, “It’s done with the information we have.”

“But?” She says, lifting an eyebrow up.

“I think there might be more to it,” You shrug, “I’ve been making some enquiries and I think I might be able to go deeper with it, if you’ll let me.”

She thinks for a moment, “Is this going deeper going to be illegal or dangerous?”

“No?” You ask, because right now it’s neither, but who knows how far the string you’re pulling might unravel.

“Then I say go for it,” She smiles a little, “I know you’ve been wanting something more challenging here, and if you think there’s something worth digging at then dig at it, but promise me if it takes a turn, you tell me?”

“I promise.”

“Well then, reporter, go get your story.”

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zenkindoflove · 2 months ago

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Tomorrow is my one-year anniversary returning to writing fanfic. This is going to be a bit of a sappy post reflecting on the last year and celebrating some of my wins/new things I've challenged myself to do.

October 17, 2023 is when I started to write the very first chapter of Burn Forever with Me. I had finished the ACOTAR series about two weeks before and had spent those two weeks reading all the Elucien fic I could. I could feel I had a story in me, so I set out to write it in a month thinking that would be it and I would get it out of my system.

It had been a while since I had written. From 2006-2012 I wrote fanfic very regularly across a few different fandoms. Most of those stories can't be found online anymore. I took a three year hiatus from my Big Bang Theory multichapter fic at the end of 2012, and didn't finish it until 2015 when I had a burst of motivation. I didn't write again until another burst of motivation hit me (Game of Thrones ending) and wrote another one-shot in 2019.

By this point in 2023, I kind of thought my fanfic writing days were behind me. I didn't expect this new resurgence in my life that came about because of this series/this ship. I've tried so many new things writing for this fandom and pushed my writing in directions I never anticipated.

Since last year I have... -published 441,592 words. -published 20 fics (a mix of multichapter and one-shots) -completed four multichapter long fics (huge for me because I used to abandon multichapter fics all the time in my first era) -Written for several ships, including rare pairs, not just my OTP which is all I did in the past -Created many OCs, including my focal OC Alexius. Up until now I thought I was kind of hopeless when it came to writing original characters. -Wrote fanfic for three appreciation weeks -Wrote MM smut for the first time, and lots of it. I have been reading MM smut for two decades, but did not have a calling to write for a specific ship until Eris x Alexius -Co-written two fics with @crazy-ache -pushed myself in what styles of writing I tackle, including writing epistolary for the first time as well as challenging myself to write action/fight scenes which always scared me in the past -world building in general also used to scare me and now I think it feels so much more approachable as I've been filling in SJM's holes. -I think my smut writing has evolved a lot too. While I wrote smut in the past and I think I established what my writing voice/style was for smut, I have really had the opportunity to solidify it and try it in different scenes and contexts. I feel a lot more confident than I did back then.

I wanted to highlight these because I think as writers, we are often too hard on ourselves, and it helps to put into context all of the ways we've improved if we are mindful of our progress. I definitely encourage you to sit down one day and remind yourself of all the new things you've done from your starting place. Making this list really put into context all the ways I've changed as a writer in just a year.

I still have a lot more I want to do and new challenges to face in the next year. I hope if you read this, it does help to show you that you can take long breaks and even if you take a step back from writing, you will always be a writer and it'll always be a hobby you can return to and improve your skills, no matter how long its been.

#fanfic writing #personal achievements #I told myself I would make a new masterlist after a year cause my current one is a hot mess #but eeesh #tackling it sounds daunting now

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angels-heap · 1 year ago

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My apologies to the 2.5 people who might have wanted an update to this fic. I am simply not strong enough.

Updating some tags on my old fics :)

#K talks #the vibes in the DE fandom have not been great lately and while I am still very attached to my vision for this fic #I do not think it would be well-received and it would also probably turn into another long-ass fic that's actually 4 fics in a trenchcoat #I should also probably abandon the freehoun fic #but that one has slightly more chance of getting written because it's only 2 chapters so ???

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thepaperpanda · 2 years ago

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Fondle Me || Neteyam x fem!Omaticaya reader

Summary: Your friendship with Neteyam came with a little benefit of fondling and sharing steamy kisses from time to time. Now, you are ready to take your relationship to another level

Warnings: smut & sweetness ❤🔥

Word count: 3390

Author: Rouge

A/N: prior to reading, it’s important to know that: the reader is female Omaticaya ✤ characters are aged up (Neteyam is 20, reader is 19) ✤ a few things are in Na'vi language ✤ despite being seriously injured during Skirmish at the Three Brothers, Neteyam survives ✤ you'll find a glossary underneath the fic

Divider by wonderful firefly-graphics

My first kiss is still fresh in my mind. The spring afternoon was steamy, and a deserted hut was muggy, despite the lack of doors that allowed the air to circulate. Sitting on the cot, I pondered who I would like to become in the future. In some cases, I needed time for myself, time I could spend thinking and losing myself in distant thoughts. After peeking inside, Neteyam sat next to me to ensure that I would not be alone. His prowess at finding me everywhere made it impossible for me to stay alone for too long.

As we sat and talked, we discussed everything, including our hunting classes and our teachers. Our friendship began at an early age, since his family was well known in the neighborhood. Neteyam was the first boy who truly became a friend to me. The tease he gave me was not aimed at hurting me, but rather at making me laugh or blush. His jokes suddenly came to a halt, and he looked at me in a completely different way he had never done before. Suddenly he leaned over and kissed me, just like that. It was a gentle, sweet, hesitant kiss at first, but once he was sure there was no resistance within me, his lips brushed more firmly against mine. In a soft, brushing motion, he kissed me again; Neteyam's tongue flickered over his lips and onto mine. After I sighed, he embraced me and we kissed again. Although we were both so young, only fifteen at the time, we were extremely curious about everything, especially corporeality. My mouth parted soon after, and his tongue snaked in and ran along mine. It was the first time I'd kissed anyone, and I felt my body reacting, even though I was slightly afraid. As I ran my hand through his dark hair, I felt a sense of comfort. The kiss deepened as we shifted. His hand reached down and rubbed along my breast, teasing the nipple through my clothing as I felt myself becoming wet. It was no secret to me that Neteyam's hands and mouth were turning me on. When Neteyam drew back and gazed at me intently, he traced my face with his hands before touching my lips with his slender fingers. When he stuck one in, I suckled it, and I realized I had made the right choice when I saw the look on his face: so blissful and primal. In no time at all, the finger was gone from my mouth and Neteyam kissed me once more, this time more hungrily, and I moaned into his mouth. A raised voice from his parents searching for him tore us apart faster than if someone had walked into the hut. As I jumped off my previous position, I cupped my cheeks as if I were cooling them down and wiping them off blush. As our eyes locked, we began a new chapter in our lives. We grabbed each other's hands and walked out of the abandoned hut. As we got outside, he squeezed my hand before releasing it; it was obvious that he wanted to keep a poker face so as not to draw unnecessary attention and questions, and I fully agreed with him. While waving at his mother, he walked away, somehow managing to hide his flushed expression from her. The first kiss I ever had was that one.

My memory of that moment is still vivid years later. The few moments we shared over the next few years - never extending beyond kissing and cuddling - proved that we were better as friends, regardless of how hot we felt together. Yet the more time passed, the less hesitant Neteyam became in showing his affection towards me; he wanted more, I was certain.

Neteyam pays me an unannounced visit one day and stands near my cot, watching me, completely silent.

My focus is on making arrows and I do not notice anything around me, humming a soft song my mother used to sing for me when I was a toddler.

“Y/N,” Neteyam whispers and only his tone breaks my state of thoughtfulness.

Looking up at him over my shoulder, I whimper, "Dear Eywa, you scared the hell out of me. Please don't do that again. What do you want, Net? You were on patrol with your parents, I thought.” As he places both of his hands on my shoulders, gently rubbing me with his long fingers, I stiffen. "I missed you, Y/N," he replies simply, but his voice has a dark quality to it.

I put the arrow down; my eyes are closed and I am enjoying his warmth and firmness of his touch - it is a feeling I have yearned for. I can hear a small shift behind me, and then, suddenly, I feel a hot sensation spill over the crook of my neck - his lips brush gently against my skin, leaving me breathless. “Neteyam,” I whisper, barely moving my lips.

As he bites my ear shell, he asks simply, "Don't you want to try?"

Turning my face toward him, I place one of my hands on his already flushed cheek - all I see in his eyes is an unfulfilled, primal longing. My voice is no more than a whisper as I ask, "Are you certain nobody will bust in here on us?"

"Yeah," he replies, nibbling on my earlobe once again, and I sigh profusely.

While I want to tell him this is not a good idea, the other side is far stronger - I crave him, and this craving cannot be silenced anymore. Oh shit, I think to myself after the contractions in my lower abdomen that are the pure sign of arousal building in.

It's clear that Neteyam knows exactly what he is doing to me, and his expressions make me confident he will not stop; that cocky grin of his dancing in the corners of his lips.

After resting my forehead against his for a few moments, I nod in approval. My waiting has been long, but I wanted to make sure Neteyam felt the same way about me as I did about him. On the cot, I let him lay me down; my eyes never left his.

A much-longed kiss is a real beatitude when he leans forward and starts making out with me. His hands move to the piece of clothing covering my breasts, and within the blink of an eye, he removes the piece of clothing covering them, leaving my chest bare, exposed to his hungry eyes. After undoing the strings of my loincloth, he throws it aside - now I'm completely naked in front of him and blush covers my cheeks even more. Neteyam watches my hips flexing in tiny circles as pleasure builds. As his palm brushes against my engorged clit, he cups my pussy with his hand, and I moan as my hips jerk. My soaking entrance is rimmed by his finger for a brief moment as he chuckles. I spread my legs for him as he dips his finger inside me, teasing me while my hands knead my breasts slowly. Neteyam's finger slips out soon, and he removes his hand, bringing it to his face so he can lick my juice from it before bringing it down to my mouth. Taking in a mouthful greedily, I enjoy the taste while pleasing him with my tongue and mouth.

As I cup him boldly between his legs, Neteyam's cock throbs under my hands. It feels larger than I remember, but I caress it lovingly and his eyes close as he enjoys the sensations I am bringing. His finger is finally removed from my mouth and he steps back.

I lay down, as Neteyam slowly undoes his loincloth and slips out of it, and I run my fingers along my inner thighs, caressing the outer lips of my pussy, watching him carefully. When I see his semi-hard cock, I lick my lips, and he smiles, knowing what I want.

Neteyam strokes my hair as I sit up and reach out and caress the hot velvet skin as I improve my position on the cot. It twitches and I watch it lengthens. I lick the head of his dick and he gasps. Just as I'd heard other women speak about those matters before, I swipe my tongue along his shaft while cupping one of his balls lightly in my hand. Neteyam gasps heavily.

I can't completely wrap my fingers around Neteyam's thick base as I finally suck the head fully into my mouth. Saliva runs down my chin as I fondle his balls with one hand and rub his dick with the other. I feel his hands on my head as I move my mouth back and forth, my tongue rubbing against the sensitive skin on his shaft. Before dipping down to lick his balls, I pull back and run my mouth and tongue down one side, then back up the other side of his shaft, earning a deep, animalistic grunt from him.

Grasping at my hair, Neteyam pulls me away from his balls and back to his cock.

My hands and tongue ran along his shaft, making him moan again as I sucked him in greedily. I take him in deep and suck him as I slowly pull my mouth back. I slip one of my hands down to play with my pussy, I am able to relieve the burning sensation built there already.

"Not yet," he orders firmly, taking my hand away. As I moan sadly around him in my mouth, he gasps, "Do it again, Y/N."

Neteyam's hips start to fuck at my mouth as I moan and hum for him. As my hand rubs faster and faster along the shaft, his balls begin to tighten up. I pull my mouth back to concentrate on the blood-engorged head of his cock.

He clenches his fingers around my head as he tenses up, grunting.

After the first stream of cum hits my back of the mouth, I choke for a moment, yet I swallow and continue to jack him into my mouth. My tongue pools with warm cum as he releases a few more streams. My cum-coated tongue runs along the highly sensitive head of Neteyam's dick while he moans and shakes, just for me. A few more spurts and he finishes cumming. Before I pull away, I lick his cum from my mouth and scoop up a few drops of it with one of my fingers as I doe-eye him, smiling innocently.

Using his finger, he wipes off the last drop of cum from the corner of my mouth and smears it across my lips. In the same way he kissed me the first time, Neteyam bends down and pulls me to my feet, licking my lips with his tongue.

Suddenly, my pussy twitches as his tongue licks up his own cum and dives into my mouth, slowly dancing with mine.

He gently pushes me back to the cot, murmuring, "Sit down." When I follow his command, he kneels down in front of me.

As his hands sweep down my legs, they are lifted up and thrown over his shoulders. My labia were lightly skimmed by his fingertips as they traced along the inside of my thighs. His breath runs through the sticky wetness of my arousal as he leans forward and breathes in deeply. I feel my hips buck slightly as his breath triggers my senses.

As Neteyam holds my hips still, he says lowly, "Easy. Mmmm, I love your scent, oeyä 'eve."

My senses are set ablaze by his words, so I whimper. I feel and hear him inhale the scent of my arousal, as if savoring it. Neteyam's tongue snakes out to scoop up the moisture gathered on the outer lips of my pussy before I can catch my breath. As he continues to lap, he hits all of my sensitive spots except the one I want him to lick; I moan loudly, closing my eyes. The pulse in my head, heart and clit is pounding as his tongue works its way between my folds and rim along the outer edge of my hot pussy, pushing in. Neteyam's nose barely brushes my clit, and I whimper as his tongue licks up inside me. I writhe on the cot as he giggles and pulls back. "Rutxe," I beg.

I can feel a tremor running through me as Neteyam asks, "Please what?" His voice is rough from arousal. "I want your tongue to fondle my cunt," I moan helplessly, grasping my nipples and pinching them hard.

Again, he chuckles as he presses his face back to my hot pussy, attacking my clit and making me shriek and moan as his teeth gently nibble it before he begins to suck on it, then I feel him inserting two fingers into me, stroking my velvety inner walls. He moves his mouth lower and his thumb strokes the highly sensitive nubbin as his tongue enters me again and again.

My orgasm peaks as Neteyam takes my hot clit into his mouth and sucks on it again, then begins to hum, sending shivers throughout my body - then I start to shudder. While my hips lift off the cot and I cry, I can feel my eyes roll back from the unbearable pleasure. It takes a few minutes for me to recover from that, as he lightly licks and nibbles at my pussy still, his eyes never leave my flushed face. As I finally stop shaking, he kisses his way up my slender body, nestling himself at the apex of my legs. I reach down and take Neteyam's cock in my hand - he's hot and hard again.

It's Neteyam's turn to moan as I rub the head of his cock along my slick clit; my body shivers in response, my lips parted as I watch his blissful expression. He takes my hand away and replaces it with his own when my juices coat the head of his cock. My legs wrap around Neteyam’s waist and help him slide deeper in as he guides his dick deep into me. Upon reaching the end, he lets out a husky grunt.

There has never been anyone who has filled me with as much as he does. The pulse of his body throbs in tangent to mine. My hips flex and Neteyam smiles before pulling out slowly. When his penis slips out, he bites his lower lip a little, then pushes in all the way back in with one powerful move.

As he continues pushing in followed by slowly, agonizingly pulling out, the feeling and sensation within me grow more intense.

My voice is breathy, "Nì'ul, Neteyam!"

A look of concern crosses his face as he looks down at me, stopping.

I doe-eye him while running the tip of my tongue along the bottom of my parted lips as my hair is spilled on the cot, my nipples are dark and hard, and my body is flushed with desire.

Even though he's already aware of the answer, Neteyam asks, "What do you want me to do, little one?"

"Fuck me," I plead, "I want you to fuck me, to possess me, to claim me yours."

With a dark chuckle, Neteyam picks up the pace, soon pounding into me hard; the cot is rocking back and forth with the rhythm of Neteyam's powerful thrusts. Upon hearing my moan, he dips his head down to bite and lick my nipples. Neteyam gasps and takes one of them into his mouth, sucking hard; I cry out and rake my nails along his back, leaving red marks on his sweaty skin. He shudders and moans. In order to grind his hipbone against my clit, Neteyam pushes into me as hard as he can, grunting sharply. As my hips twitch towards his, I pull him down for a hot, tongue-filled kiss. Once again, Neteyam picks up his pace; he rubs my calf with the free hand as he leans into the other one, frowning at the painful throbbing on his cock. “Y/N… Fuck, I-I can’t any longer…” With one arm around his neck, I pull him closer, and the other I wrap around his waist. I whisper, "Cum for me," directly into his ear. "Your seed in me is what I want, yawntutsyìp."

I watch Neteyam's facial expression changes as he begins to come. "Ma Eywa! Sran!" “Neteyam! ” I yell as my fingers work on my clit, rubbing it viciously and bringing the most intense orgasm to me. The first spurt of his cum lands inside my hot, clenching pussy and milks my inner walls. Neteyam pulls out of me quickly and he lands another one on my abdomen. More cum spurts and oozes out as he straightens up and strokes himself rapidly.

Watching me lean over for a soft kiss, he lies on his side. "It was fucking amazing," Neteyam murmurs. As his breath still needs to be calmed, he allows me to rest my head against his chest that rises and falls rapidly.

I lightly trace the edges of the old bullet wound left on his chest with one finger. "I'm glad you're with me, and that you're safe. I thought I had lost you then..."

Neteyam grabs the blanket situated nearby and covers us both. Taking my palm in his hands, he places a kiss on its surface. "Don't think about it anymore, Y/N. Nga yawne lu oer.” In the end, he turns me onto my side and spoons up behind me, and we fall asleep together; his warm breath bathing the back of my neck, sending some shivers down my spine.

I woke up some time later, alone. Taking a slow look around my hut, I find no sign of Neteyam; the only thing that reminds me of him is the sex scent filling the air. Whenever I think of Neteyam, I either smile or just sigh, feeling the warmth spreading throughout my body.

All of a sudden, my attention is drawn to something neatly wrapped in a piece of cloth lying beside my bed. A slight frown crosses my forehead as I slowly stand, tightening the blanket around my figure and picking the thing up to examine it closely. It is a handmade necklace decorated with lortsyal's wings - it's a fine piece of craftsmanship. My lips part slowly, and I exhale deeply, covering them with my curled hand. Gifting clothing or jewelry to someone means keeping them close to one's heart; it is a widely practiced act. Therefore, Neteyam has the same feelings for me as I do for him, I think to myself as I cradle the necklace close to my chest. I have never received a gift as beautiful as this one. With a smile I look in the darkest corner of my hut. A waytelem I made for myself gleams in the dim light of the eclipse while hanging on the wall. As I think about adding a bead to it, the bead telling the story of my relationship with Neteyam, a smile spreads across my lips. Although we aren't officially mated, I know Neteyam treats me genuinely and seriously. “Ma Eywa, please hear me out,” I whisper to myself, offering my sincerest prayers to our Great Mother. “The depths of my heart are filled with love for him. Please, please allow me to become his other half, Great Mother.” While I pray quietly, at the gleaming stars above, I don't realize curious eyes are watching me the entire time. I come quiet when I hear my cot cracking, and I smile to myself as I recognize the smell as my nose twitches - it's Neteyam's strong scent feeling my nostrils.

Curling my lips in a tiny smile, I turn to him slowly.

A warm smile spreads across his face as he silently invites me to join him, and I am delighted to do so. After wrapping me in his strong arms, he rubs my back and shoulders in long-lasting strokes. “Oeyä narlor ‘eve,” Neteyam whispers, kissing all over my face.

There is only one thing I know at that moment: I never want to part with him. For that, I'm willing to sell my soul.

Glossary:

oeyä narlor ‘eve - my beautiful girl

oeyä ‘eve - my girl

yawntutsyìp - darling

Ma Eywa - o Eywa

nga yawne lu oer - I love you

nì'ul - more

sran - yes (colloquial)

rutxe - please

lortsyal - shimmyfly

waytelem - songcord

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missingn000 · 9 months ago

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a note about tpg's hiatus

hi everyone!! i've missed y'all <33 i want to share a quick note on tpg's hiatus, and how long it will last.

first and foremost, the tl;dr: i will not abandon tpg. the story remains incredibly important to me, and this hiatus is only that: a hiatus. i will return eventually, and while i am not exactly sure when "eventually" is, i hope to begin updating again soon.

now the long explanation. tpg's hiatus has lasted much, much longer than i expected. it wasn't until i took a break that i realized how mentally and emotionally drained i was after writing 600k+ in 2 years, along with being an engineering master's student then starting a job in aerospace. especially after writing sukuna's backstory (75k+ words in one month), my brain was utterly fried. all in all, it's been a lot.

as some of you may know, i started watching one piece in september. and i love it! it's an incredibly fun, well-written feel-good series. it's been a refreshing mental break to engage with a new series, especially since jjk canon has been so disappointing in both content and writing quality.

if you check my ao3, you'll notice i took a break from jjk with other series in the past: namely dr. stone, sxf, and natsume yuujinchou. this is necessary for me to remain creative and explore narrative themes that i bring back to tpg when i return to it. but by the time my recent hiatus started, it had been well over a year since i engaged with any other series than jjk, and it was starting to take its toll on me. i'm almost caught up on one piece now, which means i'll be able to focus on tpg again soon.

when i return from tpg's hiatus, updates may be slower. releasing 15k+ word chapters every 2-4 weeks was incredibly mentally taxing and required much of my time and focus to constantly be on the story. it wasn't healthy, and other areas of my life were impacted negatively. it can be easy to forget that i'm a real person with real-life responsibilities writing this story in my spare time for free -- even i sometimes forgot this.

another note on why taking a break has been so necessary is my mental health. when season 2 released and toji + satosugu was animated, the fandom exploded and tpg's readership drastically increased. while this meant an influx of amazing love and support, i also started to receive rude and hateful comments and messages.

don't get me wrong: not everyone has to like tpg. that's totally fine! but as a very sensitive person, receiving hate took a huge toll on my mental health and motivation, and i have needed time to recover from it. i've been doing better mentally lately, and have taken some measures to reduce unkind interactions. i'm working on becoming less sensitive in the meantime so i can handle it better if/when it happens again.

since i've been feeling guilty about not posting jjk content, i haven't been on tumblr quite as much, but i'm still around online on both discord and instagram. mutuals can request my priv @chiidoriii on IG, and my discord is @MissingN000 -- just shoot me a message with who you are when you request! i'll still post fic updates on both new stories as well as tpg content and previews on tumblr, so please stick around :)

thank you so much for your patience with me! i love you all so much, and truly appreciate your support. love, chi <333

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noffy96 · 5 months ago

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Old Moon & Dazzle fic

Do i love the 'Sun hopefully adopts Dazzle' headcanon. Yes to bits, But If he is. Then Dazzle get's a whole new family. And I wanted to explore Moon's side of that for a small bit. So here you go.

Uncle Moon

Word count: 2,510

Chapter 1 ( Complete)

Summary

“Hey, you alright?”

Dazzle shook her head,

“I-i know…it’s late…and I am not…supp- supposed to be awake. But…But”

He stopped himself from taking another step closer, as she ducked her head down. More tears were obviously falling.

“But…I…I..is…Is Sun home?”

When Sun is out grocery shopping, Moon finds Dazzle, who has just woken up from a nightmare and looking for Sun. Is he gonna be able to handle this on his own

--link here to AO3--

or continue below the read more line

He blinked open his eyes with a groan. He had fallen asleep on the couch waiting for his brother. With Dazzle and Jack moving in, the need to buy groceries had increased dramatically. His brother of course had plans to buy some food, but a portal malfunction had sent them both away for most of the day.

They just didn’t have the time to do anything else, But they would still need the food in the morning with his own increased appetite as well as Dazzle’s growing one. Sun said he would just do some bulk shopping now at the weird kmart that was always open. So they wouldn’t have to come back for a few days.

He had just been waiting up, maybe a little bit paranoid about his brother's safety with the portal shenanigans happening today. But he was gonna do better and not demand that he stay. It would make Sun feel better and not do something stupid like sneak out. And this way, someone was home with Dazzle and Jack as Lunar was out dealing with something astral-related.

He heard a creak of stairs and he sat up straight, wondering if that was what woke him up in the first place. Switching on his old security programming. Getting off the couch as softly as possible so it didn’t make a sound. He tried to sneak towards the stairs.

That was until he heard a soft quiet sob. As he quickly shut the protocols off, his chest filled with a whole new kind of dread and softly called out.

“Dazzle?”

He heard a soft gasp that confirmed his suspension, So instead of being quiet, he made sure the bells on his outfit let out a little ding as he approached, as he turned the corner and saw the little animatronic deer halfway down the steps. Holding onto the bannister tightly. Her eyes were wide and filled with tears. Along with the signs of tears tracks.

His chest clenched harder. Old protocols long abandoned and unused were trying to make him run towards her. Scoop her up and soothe her. To calm her down. He fought them down, not wanting to scare the poor kid.

He grabbed the bannister pole.

“Hey, you alright?”

Dazzle shook her head,

“I-i know…it’s late…and I am not…supp- supposed to be awake. But…But”

He stopped himself from taking another step closer, as she ducked her head down. More tears were obviously falling.

“But…I…I..is…Is Sun home?”

She changed her sentence, and fuck if the whole scene. Had not already shaken at his cold heart, to hear her so brokenly ask for his brother certainly did it. There was another sob

“I knocked on his door, but he didn’t answer….and then I went in to see if he was sleeping. I know I sho-should wait..bu-but…I was scared..and I just…”

Her hands let go of the railing and started scrubbing her eyes and sobbing. Before he knew it he was up the few steps to reach her, crouching down in front of her.

“Hey, now. You did nothing wrong, Dazzle. Why were you scared?… Did you have a bad dream?”

Dazzle nodded

His fans vented out some air of relief. Happy it was nothing more serious.

“Sun should be home soon, wanna sit with me and wait for him?”

Maybe he should tell her it was okay. Or find out what the dream was. But Sun was better at handling that sort of stuff. He could put kids to sleep. But…he hadn’t done so in a very, VERY long time. And besides he didn’t want her to feel bad for trying to seek help. He’ll ask Sun how to handle this in the future if it happens again.

For now, he could at least distract her.

“R-really, I am not in trouble…for being up after bedtime?”

He shook his head, and gently reached out for her hands taking them away from her face and squeezing them softly

“No, of course not. Why don’t we watch something, hmm? Anything you want, While we wait.”

He gently encouraged her to move down the stairs, and they slowly made their way back to the couch he had initially fallen asleep on.

“Could we watch Bluey? “

“Of course, we can Dazzle,”

“And you are not gonna ask about my nightmare?”

“That is up to you if you want to tell me, but I think you'd rather tell Sun first right?”

Dazzle made a little hum. As she climbed onto the couch he turned on the TV. He grabbed a blanket that was tossed over one of the chairs and warped it around her. And she blinked at him, surprised.

“No reason to be cold while waiting, Is there an episode you want to watch?”

He asked her as he turned on their TV and navigated towards the streaming service he thought held Bluey…he hoped he had remembered it correctly.

“The one where they call their cousins on the tablet? I think it’s pretty funny. Muffin reminds me of Jack sometimes”

He laughed at her remark, and he was happy to see the corners of her mouth move up slightly too. He nodded as he sat down scrolling through the shows,

“And Dazzle?”

“Y-yeah?”

“If there is anything else you want, just ask, okay. I’ll do my best to get it. No problem”

Dazzle went quiet, and he let out a little sigh of relief as he saw the show pop up. He sat back on the couch again,

“Moon?”

He paused before pressing play and turned to face the small deer. There were still some tears in his eyes, and she looked a bit unforgettable. As if scared. Soothing out his voice the best he could

“Yes, what is it?”

“Can I…can I sit in your lap so…so that..so that I know I am safe from the monster”

The question almost made him feel like he got slapped in the face. But he was somehow quick enough to answer her with a calm tone.

“Of course you can.”

He shifted back more, and after some awkward bit of shuffling, he was holding the deer animatronic to his chest. One arm wrapped around her middle to keep her secure, as he pressed play to start the show.

He had planned to just absentmindedly watch the children's show. But right now his thoughts were more focused on Dazzle. She had clearly taken a shine to Sun, people having already joked here and there. That his brother had basically adopted her and become a parent.

Sun also didn’t seem to deny this statement. But would correct people if they called him her father. If he knew his brother, that was because he didn’t want to replace her actual father. Who might still be out there. Even if he never knew what had become of his daughter. Sun wouldn’t want to take his place.

In the time that Dazzle had been here. They had gotten closer too, not strange as they lived together now. But he didn’t think she trusted him this much. He was still kind of a stranger to her.

She listened if he asked something, but he didn’t think she trusted him like this. Of course, it was because Sun was not here. But still. He was doing something right at least if the kid didn’t hate him.

As the episodes went on, Dazzle slowly went from still crying a bit, to being calm. occasionally laughing at the show but still feeling quite tense. Whatever her dream had been, it clearly was still on her mind.

Slowly ever, so slowly he raised his free hand and started to calmly run it over her back in a soothing motion. Dazzle let out a purely mechanical chirp, which he responded to in a soft croon. And with every swipe, he felt Dazzle lean more and more against him.

He tilted his head down and saw her slowly close her eyes. Slowly nodding off. He wasn’t sure how to feel about that. If he should let her fall asleep or keep her awake. Either way, he’d tell Sun what had happened. IT was scratching an old itch somewhere deep in his code though, seeing her fall asleep.

The show stopped playing with a ‘Are you still there’ message appearing on screen. Then suddenly, from deep inside his chest, a soft lullaby started playing. It surprised him, he didn’t think he’d still have the music box installed in his chest.

But Dazzle didn’t seem to mind, slowly seemingly falling into a deeper sleep. As he tugged the blanket around her more securely she mumbled something.

“Go to sleep kid, I’ll keep you safe until Sun is here”

“Okay, thank you, Uncle Moon”

His eyes widened, as he pulled the air across his fans in a gasp. Dazzle falling into a deeper sleep. He tried to think, tried to process. But all he could do was stare forward,

UncleMoonUncleMoonUncleMoonUncleMoon

Repeating over and over again inside his head. He had never been anything other than a brother. And that he had screwed over big time. He was still repairing his relationship with Sun. Lunar was still distant from him and was still in the process of getting to know Earth.

So too have this new title, suddenly thrown in his lap. He wasn’t sure what to do with it. He moved to keep gently stroking the child's back. Maybe…maybe it was a good thing. Something to start completely clean.

A relationship he didn’t need to repair or start over. Or attached to the baggage of his other self. No…he could be an uncle. He would be the best damn uncle there was.

He heard the front door open, and his brother struggled with dragging in the groceries. But the second Sun spotted him he left the bags in the foyer to come closer. And he could hear the cameras go off behind his eyes.

He raised his eyebrow at him, but considering he did the same when Dazzle stayed the first night. He supposed he couldn’t complain. He texted his brother so as to not wake Dazzle with their voices.

‘She just fell back asleep, nightmare, was looking for you’

His brother's emotes went through several different ones, not being able to settle onto one. As he slowly moved closer.

‘Jack not here?’

He got a text back, and he sent a shrug emoticon back. As Sun stood beside them, adjusting the blanket around Dazzle onces before pulling back

‘Did she say anything about the nightmare’

He carefully shook his head

‘Only something about a monster when she asked for me to hold her’

Sun let out a soft crooning noise,

‘We’ll see if she remembers when she wakes up, anything else?’

He hesitated for a brief second. Not sure what he should say, but he needed Sun’s opinion on this as her primary caretaker.

‘She called me Uncle Moon’

Sun let out a soft gentle whirr as he hesitated to meet his brother's gaze.

‘I’m not surprised’

Was the text he got, and heard Sun let out a nervous chuckle.

‘If you don’t want her to call you that, you can ask her to stop’

‘NO’

He texted back a bit too quickly and he saw Sun basically whip his head around to face him. As his face started to glow lighty feeling embarrassed.

‘I’m okay with it, just wondering if you were’

Sun moved his hands around like he did when he was spluttering and having a hard time getting his thoughts out. Eventually, he got a text

‘Not really up to me…it’s her choice’

He gave his brother a stare, the same one he always did when he felt like his brother was understating how much he meant to Dazzle. And how much the little girl had grown on his brother as well. He wasn’t lying when he told Sun that he was a good parent to the children he took care of. Not only in the daycare.

He got why Sun hesitated to take the title of Dad. But as far as he was concerned. Sun was her parent. And Sun, despite his nerves knew this too and took that role seriously.

Sun faltered slightly before letting out a deep sigh.

‘I have nothing against it. Just be sure to fulfil that role as best you can'

He felt a slight pang of hurt at the text. Knowing how much he still had to make up to Sun for. That his brother was at least a little bit afraid he might hurt her as he did him.

‘I have every intention to, could you maybe later teach me how to better handle it if she gets a nightmare again?’

‘I think you did pretty good Moon, if she fell asleep on you’

He gently stroked Dazzle’s back once more who had been sleeping soundly but he could still feel that she was not as relaxed as she could have been.

‘I think that was more exhaustion, I think she’d been crying longer than it took her to get out of her room. I wish I could have calmed her more before she fell asleep. Cause it doesn’t feel like she’ll get a restful one’

Sun nodded with a sad expression.

‘Okay then, I see what I can do…I’ll put the groceries away now’

He gave a nod and listened to the sounds his brother made as he put everything away. As well as focusing on the quiet breaths of the animatronic in his arms. She twitched once and he made some soft shushing noises. Glowing again as he realised that his music box had still been playing.

But now that Sun was home, he felt something relaxed inside of him. His own eyes fell shut once more, Sun bustling becoming a background noise. He didn’t realise he was falling asleep. Until he felt the click of a charging cable being put into the back of his head. With another quiet click, he assumed the same was done to dazzle. There was something being wrapped around his shoulders and he felt too warm and toasty to open his eyes again.

The couch dipped slightly beside him. A hand softly squeezing his shoulder gratefully, as he heard Sun murmur something softly to Dazzle he couldn’t understand.

‘Thanks, Moon, for taking care of her’

Came a final text, and he couldn’t help the odd sense of pride at it.

Seems he had gotten a niece. hah…A niece. Never thought that would happen. He squeezed her a bit closer. He was gonna be the best damn uncle he could be. He didn’t have to worry. He was sure his brother would help him. He wasn’t gonna fuck up another family relationship.

He felt Sun’s head hit the edge of his shoulder, seemingly having fallen asleep himself.

They got this.

He was sure of it

#tsams #tsams moon #tsmas old moon #tsams dazzle #laes dazzle #sams moon #sams old moon #the sun and moon show moon #the sun and moon show sun #tsams sun #sams sun #the sun and moon show dazzle #the sun and moon show #fic #tsams fic #sams fic #noffy's writing

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