#many future chapter will be rollercoasters

[wwilloww]

sh. | chapter twenty two | pjm

PAIRING ot7 x reader RATING Explicit. 18+. GENRE smut. fluff. angst. nonidol au. wildnerness au. roommates au. friends to lovers. SUMMARY Six months of quarantine have kept you apart. Somehow the distance sparks something new in each of you: questions, unfinished conversations, threads once chased now left cold. So when your roommate invites you to come with him to a mysterious house in the mountains with your friends, how could you even think of saying no? WC 4.8k WARNINGS AND TAGS no use of gendered pronouns to refer to reader. consensual objectification. d/s dynamic. over the panty sex (is this just called dry humping?) fucktoy-ification? teasing. orgasm denial.

AN hi :) i'm so sorry i made you wait so long for this. it's been a rollercoaster these last two years, and i hope you can forgive me for my long absence. if you enjoyed this chapter, i'd love to hear from you: what stuck out to you, what you're hoping will happen in future chapters, or just how you've been. i've missed you. and, as always, thank you for reading <3

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CHAPTER TWENTY TWO: RULE BREAKER

You don’t talk or think much about your childhood. You like to imagine that when you turned eighteen those years whispered away into the ether of time, as irrelevant and dusty as the old photobook that stays on the shelf, eternally unopened. 

As a child, home was multiplied and many. It was the many places you lived, as you moved often, following your father around with his job. But it was also many in the sense that you learned at a young age that home didn’t have to be a place you lived. Home was between the worn and finger-marred pages of the books you fell in love with, home was the wisping scent of fresh (if not often burnt) pastry in your grandmother’s kitchen each time you visited, home was the place you yearned to travel to but never made the time to visit. 

But as you close the book in your hands, the words echo in your mind: 

Are you going to come home? 

You feel far away from home, even though you find a great deal of comfort in the walls of Namjoon’s mountain house. Ahem, mansion. Confusion riddles little holes of worry through you. Where is home, anyways? The small apartment you left empty in the city? The question opens a void in you. Why bother with home anyways? Sure, home could be anything if you tried hard enough, but couldn’t the opposite be true too? That if you tried hard enough, you wouldn’t need a home?

Still, void and all, the question nudges you. 

Unsettled, you clamber down the tree and make your way back towards the house. The sun has risen higher in the sky and breaks through the chill ever so slightly. Worried that you’ve just abandoned Jimin this morning and that he’ll wake up alone, you quicken your pace. You creak the door open, waving at Jungkook and Jin and Taehyung in the kitchen, who are huddled over the coffee, waiting for it to finish brewing. 

“A watched pot never boils,” you call out to them, noting that Jungkook looks a little cheerier than he had the past several days. Jin’s hand rests on Jungkook’s lower back and a little wave of joy jolts through you as the older man throws you a little smile. 

“Watching it actually makes it go faster,” Jungkook says, his eyes glued to the coffee. “A little motivation and encouragement always lends a helping hand.” 

You smile at that and continue making your way towards Jimin’s bedroom. You pass one room—a gym of sorts filled with a few cardio machines, a set of free weights, and a large mirror, and you’re surprised you didn’t notice it before—and pause. 

Namjoon is spotting Hoseok as the latter bench presses what looks like an unreasonably heavy weight. 

As you watch them, the dream from last night floods back to you. 

The music filtering through the night. The tightness of each man’s grip on you as they spun you through the ballroom, the floorboards creaking beneath you, the high of attention sitting heady in your chest. 

And too, you can’t forget, the way they stared at each other in single-minded competition, hackles raised, teeth gritted. You can’t forget the darkness that swirled at their feet, and you wonder too, if you’re letting your dream drift into the world of the living too.

But here they are, fondly smiling at one another. Had you made it all up? Well, of course you made it up. It was a regency-era dream for god's sake. But the tension? The competition? As Namjoon helps Hoseok lower the weights to the bar and hauls him to his feet, you’re sure it’s all in your head. 

“Nice, man,” Namjoon says, grinning and clasping Hoseok on the back. 

Before they see you, you continue on. Just as you’re about to open the door to the bedroom you’ve been searching for, it swings open before you. Jimin steps out. 

“Oh. You’re awake!” you say.

“I am indeed.” 

“I’m sorry I left this morning—“ 

“It’s okay,” he says, but there’s a tinge of sadness in his voice, a little dust mote of it that you catch. 

“I went to go read in a tree,” you offer quickly as an explanation, hoping it will make up for the disappointment of waking up alone after not spending a night together in a while. 

“In a tree?” 

“In a tree,” you confirm. 

He chuckles. “That seems like a good enough reason to abandon me. I gotta be honest though—“ He steps closer, lets his gaze flicker down, and toys with the hem of your shirt. “I was looking forward to waking up beside you.” 

“Were you?” you smile. 

“I was. I was even looking forward to potentially getting to wake you up.” He says it with a mischievous grin. 

“Oh? And how would you have woken me up?”

His hand drifts lower, beneath the band of your leggings. “You know, it’s really easier to show you, rather than tell you—” His hands pause. “What’s this?” Jimin sends you a knowing look. 

“What?” Your mind sputters as you struggle to come up with what he might be talking about. But he steps closer to you, a hand drifting down to your hips, a finger pulling your shirt up. With his other hand he plucks at the band of your panties. 

“This,” he emphasizes. 

“Oh.” 

You’d nearly forgotten the promise you’d made to Jimin. But now it all comes rushing back, how he’d made you promise in those early days in the house to forgo any underwear. At the time it’d been a silly dare, but the seriousness in his eyes makes you reconsider. 

“What? Do I have to remind you every day?” he says gently. “Or perhaps I haven’t been spending enough time around you, and you’ve forgotten your promise to me?”

“N-no,” you say. “I mean maybe. Maybe I want you around more.” You sidle up to him, running a finger up his chest. “Maybe… I want you to remind me.” 

Jimin steps closer to you, pressing you against the bedroom door. You gasp when he leans in close, close enough to kiss you, but doesn’t. 

“I think you forget too quickly that  I told you there’d be a punishment if you ‘forgot’ about our little rule.” 

“Oh?” You tilt your head as you look at him. “What kind of punishment?” Panties or not, it seems like you win. 

“Like I mentioned earlier, I think I’d rather show you than explain it to you. Let’s just say I’m a hands-on kind of teacher.” 

You think he’s going to kiss you, but instead he presses close, his lips a centimeter away from yours, his hands cupping your cheeks before wandering down to explore your body. You reach for him, struggle to bring his lips to yours, but he shifts his attention elsewhere, leaving you hanging. His hands rove over your body, his lips dip out of reach. So you change your plan of attack too. You let your hands wander over him. When you feel his breath quicken against you, you release him, dipping your head below his chin.

You glide your lips down Jimin’s neck, slow and intentional; a calculated move. You let your breath whisper against his skin, and you can’t help but think back to that night with Yoongi and Namjoon in which sensation—even the lightest of touches—had meant so much to you. To your body. You want to play Jimin like they played you. 

His hands tighten in your shirt, knuckles whitening. 

“Inside,” he gasps, and the desperation in his voice makes you think that he’s lost a bit of his fine-tuned control. His eyes are blown wide. He looks like he could eat you up. “Inside,” he repeats, but enacts the command himself as he pulls you through the door with him, making it sound a little more like a plea than you think he intends.

The pair of you tumble onto the bed, a mess of limbs and lips, teeth, hands. 

He captures your lips, finally, kissing you. The kiss is anything but gentle, nearing the edge of pain, his teeth knocking against yours, nipping at your lips. You groan into his mouth as his hips cant against you. 

It’s not long before he begins to tug at your clothes. 

Then he pauses, lifting your head from his lips. You’re sprawled atop him and you lift yourself up on your hands. 

“What?” you inquire curiously.

“I’m going to ask you to do something.” 

“Alright.”

With a leveled gaze, he says, “Strip.” 

He pushes you off of him, and you kneel at the foot of the bed, pausing a second, before making the executive decision to stand and undress. It’ll be more, well, graceful that way, you think. The alternative is flopping around on the sheets like a beached hammerhead shark trying to get your pants off. 

So you do as you’re told. There’s something about undressing before him, as he leans back against the headboard, watching you. There’s something about undressing for him, while he watches on, his gaze drinking you in that has sparks running through your body.

Slowly, slowly you slip off your top, and wiggle your leggings off your legs. You try to make it a little sexy, glancing up at him from time to time, to find that warm darkness swirling in his gaze that you love so much. You trip once, because you’re staring too much. 

“Keep the panties on,” he says when you go to pull them down.  

“Oh. Okay.”  Your brow furrows and you can’t help but let a little bit of the disappointment you’re feeling into your voice. You’re a little confused why he would ask you to keep them on when they were the problem that started all of this. 

He stands then, walking towards you. You hold your breath. He finally arrives before you and places his hands on your hips. His fingers toy with the trim of the panties, and goosebumps race along your skin from the delicate touch. 

“What are you going to do?” you ask, your voice breathy.

“You’ll see.” 

With that he hooks a finger under the band of your underwear and lets it snap against your skin. You cry out, more in surprise than anything else. 

“Did that hurt?” 

“No, not really.” 

“Good.” He grins. “Now, I want you to be honest.” 

“I’m always honest.” You correct yourself: “Most of the time. Most of the time I’m always honest.” 

Jimin chuckles at that. 

“Fair enough. But I need your most-of-the-time-always honesty now.” You nod, your hand drifting upward to grip his forearm. 

“Of course.” 

“I want to try something out with you. Something new.” 

“New?”

“A new kind of play.”

Your mind reels with the possibilities. What could he possibly suggest? Chastity kink? Tittyfucking? Technojizz? Ballcuzzi?  

“I want to use you like a toy,” he whispers. “I want to fuck you like a toy. I want to talk to you like a toy, treat you like one.” Your eyes widen when he says it. His eyes go wide too, drinking in your every microexpression, as he waits for you to respond. 

“A toy?” 

“Yes.”

“Where did this come from?” you say it with a little smile, and trace your finger along his jawline. He relaxes at the touch. 

“I saw the way you reacted during group play. When Jin was talking to you, saying things like, ‘You want to be our slut. You want to be our whore.’” Just hearing Jimin repeating Jin’s words sends a shiver through your body. “He didn’t say it like I would have said it, but I knew he wanted to.” He presses his lips to your ear while his hands rove over your body. “You want to be our toy, don’t you?”  

The answer is easy. “Yes.” 

“You want to be used by us, don’t you?” 

“Y-yes.” 

He chuckles. “That’s what I thought. So tell me. Tell me what you want to be.” 

“I want to be your toy.” 

“Good.” He grins. 

He lets his hand drift down to your underwear again, fingers trailing along the inside the elastic hem before plucking at them once more. He seems to like the way you flinch. 

His fingers wander down your skin. He traces your hip, before flicking his fingers beneath the hem that circles your thigh. Slowly, he creeps closer to where you want his fingers most, but before he can touch you, he pulls his fingers away. You nearly groan, and a fleeting grimace crosses your face. Jimin catches it. 

“Patience would look so pretty on you,” he says, and the sting of his words is delightful. 

“Hmph.” 

His fingers continue to explore the thin piece of fabric that separates you from total nudity. They’re not a particularly pretty pair of underwear: they’re nothing more than a tan color brief. 

You say as much to Jimin, and tell him you wish you were wearing something sexier. Lace, maybe. Something black. 

“True,” he replies. “But you know why I like these?” 

“Why?” 

“Because I can see you dripping through them.” 

You warm at the implication.   

“And when I push my cock against them, I’ll see me on them too. I’m a visual man, you know.” He kind of chuckles at that last bit, like it’s some sort of inside joke with himself. 

When he drops to his knees, like that first day in the forest with him, you gasp. Finally, finally, he’s going to touch you. 

But when his tongue presses against you through the fabric of your underwear, it’s only half the sensation you need from him. Still, it feels good, a gentle warmth spreading through your abdomen as he licks and presses against your clit and vulva. 

“You taste so good,” he murmurs against you. 

“I’m—“ 

“You’ve soaked your panties through.” 

You warm at the thought, such little stimulation getting you so ready for him. You wonder if he’ll fuck you hard and fast or if he’ll take you sweet and slow. If he’ll take his time with you. Whatever he decides to do, you know you’ll be happy to have him fill you as you currently clench and tighten around nothing. It’s an empty feeling that sifts through you. 

When he’s thoroughly soaked your underwear with his mouth, he stands and kisses you. You can taste the ghost of yourself on him, and it reminds you of the smell of first summer light hitting the ground at dawn. A space when it is neither day, nor night, but some third plane of existence. Like that, in this moment, you feel like some third kind of creature. Neither yourself entirely, nor Jimin, but some other, third thing that you could only become in his presence. You can feel the shit-eating grin that glides across his lips and presses into yours as he walks backwards, leading you back to the bed. 

There’s something different, too, about all of this, about the way he kisses you today. There’s an edge of desperation, of frustration that you can taste on him. His movements are quicker, less languid. His lids are lidded. His breath comes quicker.  It’s delightful. 

But it’s also brand new. It feels like he has let a part of himself loose from under his usual state of control, and you wonder if your most recent conversation with your friends—where you discussed emotionality and feeling—had anything to do with what he was going through. What he wanted. 

An edge of anxiety tickles at your throat as you think of it. Does he want something more? 

He seems to notice your hesitation. 

“I just want you right now,” he says, as if he’s read your mind. He stops you at the edge of the bed, turns you so that the back of your knees hit the mattress.  You’re not sure if he’s a mind reader or what. 

You fall back into the bed, Jimin leading you down gently with a hand against your back until you sink into the soft bedding. You can’t help but giggle at the gentleness. Not that you have anything against it, but in this moment you feel anything but a toy. The way he looks at you makes you feel, well, precious. 

He breaks his gaze to kiss you again, tongue pressing against your lips. 

“Open up for me,” he says. “Like a good kitten—Like a good toy.” 

You do as you’ve been told, opening your mouth and letting him swirl his tongue through you, swiping at the roof of your mouth and sending tingles down your spine. 

His hands drift down your body before slipping beneath your panties. You glow, so eager for his touch, groaning as his fingers swipe against your clit. Just once. But as if he’s just realized a mistake he’s made, he rapidly pulls his hand out. 

“Oops. Got a little caught up.” 

You pout. “What, you’re not going to touch me like that? There? At all?” 

He pulls back enough to flick his gaze between your eyes and your lips. “Be a good toy and just do what you’re told.” 

“Oh?” The bratty part of you flickers and rises up.

He silences you with a kiss, his fingers circling around your clothed entrance before trying to press in through the thin fabric of your underwear. It’s like he’s trying to finger fuck you through the wet cotton, pushing it into you with his fingers. The pressure surely is something, but it’s not even a hint of enough, and you find your hips bucking up against him, seeking more attention, seeking more pressure. 

“So needy. So desperate.” 

He continues until the yearn within you aches.

“Stop playing,” you gasp. “Just give me your cock. Want you. Want your cock. I’ll be your toy, just–just use me like one.” 

“Don’t good toys say please?” 

“Please, sir.”

He freezes above you. 

“Sir?” 

“I—I… It just slipped out!” 

He grins. “I kinda like it.” He hums, as if contemplating it, then nods. “And since you’ve asked so nicely—“  

Jimin leans back enough to begin unbuttoning his shirt. He takes his time, while the knot in your belly begins to recede. You sit up, eager to help him out of it, but he quickly swats your hands away. 

“Patience, kitten.” 

You don’t say it, but your crossed arms and pout say, “Fine, sir,”  loud and clear. He laughs at your expression. 

“Don’t you worry,” he says, tilting your chin up. “I’ve always taken care of you, haven’t I?” 

He takes his cock out, stroking it once, twice, his hand gliding expertly over the soft and sensitive skin. 

“I’m going to use you like you’re good for.”

“Like I’m good for?” You echo, desperate for him. 

“All you’re good for,” he whispers in your ear and the words send a shiver of pleasure down your spine.  

With one hand, he takes your ankles and pushes them over your head.

“Hold them.” 

He then settles between your legs, hand wrapped tightly around his cock. With a movement that seems far too familiar to him, he slaps your pussy with his hard and dripping cock, and you groan. Fuck. 

Lowering himself to you, so your thighs press into his shoulders, he finally aligns his cock with your clothed vulva. 

And then with one careful movement, he grinds against you. The simple movement is enough to make you cry out. 

“Fuck, Jimin.” 

At first it’s slow, his cock pressing against your vulva in rhythmic pulses, your clit. At one point he pulls back and presses the head of his cock to your clothed entrance and presses in. 

You whine against him, but he doesn’t acknowledge you. He simply returns to continuing his thrusts. You’re just as wet as he is hard, soaking your panties, his precome painting them too. 

“Maybe I would have woken you up like this. Wouldn’t you have liked that? Waking up to my hard cock pressing against your clit, me ready to come, just from rutting against you? Wouldn’t that make you happy, to know how good you make me feel?”

You look down to where your bodies are pressed together. His cock rhythmically pokes up, the head dark and heavy. Sometimes though, the head of his cock gets stuck on your underwear, pushing the fabric higher and tighter around you. You groan at the sight. 

“Don’t you love how good you make me feel?”  

Your hips buck together, finding a desperate, shared rhythm. Your breath, too, matches up. 

For a moment, your eyes lock. All you can think about is how damn pretty he looks when he fucks, his dark hair falling into his face, his cheeks flushed, his plush lower lip caught between his teeth. And he looks back. 

But then his eyes flicker away from yours. 

He fucks you over your panties, murmuring how good of a toy you are for him, how he wishes he could fuck you properly, fill you up.

“Please,” you gasp, desperate for more. “Fuck me.”

“When you behave,” he grunts. “I will.” Another thrust. “When you follow my rules, I will.” 

When he comes, he presses the head of his cock to your clit. You can feel it twitching against you as he groans and sighs, his come painting your panties white. 

With the head of his cock pressing so rhythmically against your clit, you’ve built up to a delicious pleasure, so close to coming. 

“Jimin, Jimin, I’m so close. Please.” Your hips tilt up, searching out the pleasure he keeps denying you. 

But Jimin just grins at you and sighs dramatically. His breath still comes a little quickly, he seems a little winded.  

“If only you hadn’t been so intent on misbehaving earlier. Maybe I could have let you come.” 

“Oh, come on,” you groan, about a second away from throwing your fists on the bed in proper tantrum form. “You’re in charge. You write the rules. Who said you can’t let me come?” 

“The rules I wrote say so, actually.” 

You huff. 

“Well then. Maybe I’ll just have to take care of it myself.” 

In a swift action, Jimin leans over you, pinning your hands above your head. Your breath leaves your lungs in a quick gasp. 

“Wha—” 

“I think you know you’re not even supposed to be thinking about that, let alone doing it.” 

You tilt your head.

Jimin laughs, a hint of playful hardness in his voice. “Don’t you remember?” You shake your head. “You’re forgetting all of your promises today, aren’t you? Jin had you promise that you wouldn’t be coming unless it was because of one of us.” 

Your eyes widen. 

“Shit. I forgot.” 

“I know you forgot.” 

You throw your head back and groan. “But I thought you said you’d always take care of me.” 

“I did. And I do. But sometimes it’s good for you to wait a little for your reward. Today you took your punishment—” He tilts your head up so you’re looking at him and the pout that had taken over your face fades a little. “And tomorrow, I’ll give you your reward.” 

You roll your eyes. 

“Fine.”

“You think you can do that? Wait until tomorrow?” 

“Yeah.” You sigh. 

“You’re so good for me,” he says, pressing a kiss to your lips. His hands glide down to your hips, dipping beneath the band and you think, oh, maybe he’ll do it now. But your hopes are quickly dashed when he tugs on them and says, “Maybe it was a good thing I had you wear these afterall.” He shimmies your come-stained underwear down your thighs. “Easy cleanup.” 

You can’t help but laugh at that, always surprised when Jimin’s practical side pops out alongside his gregariousness. But he balls the panties up, and before tossing them into the laundry basket near the door, holds them up in his hand, shaking them, as if directing attention to them. 

 “I should remind you why I asked you to do this?” 

“I know why you asked me to. You liked the secret of it—?” You think back to what he had said to you, all those days ago, though it feels like a lifetime ago:

“I like walking around, knowing I’m the only one who has your sweetness on my tongue. I love talking to the others while getting to taste you still. Getting to remember the way you squirm underneath my touch. I do it because I want to.”

You still shiver, thinking of those words. But that had been before everyone knew about you and Jimin. 

“I did like the secret of it,” Jimin says, breaking through your reverie. “But there’s more than that, too.” 

You raise an eyebrow, prompting him to go on. 

“There’s knowing you do it for me.” 

He grins, before strutting to the bathroom. You watch his ass as he goes. Plump, you think. When he returns, he’s cleaned up and still grinning. Mulling on what he’s said—”for me”—an image of all eight of you on the living room floor arises. What are the boundaries between one person and another with this set up? What are the lines? What is owed? Your head spins, and you settle into the pillow. You’re still humming in the sensation of your dwindling pleasure, receding far away from your orgasm, and you sigh. 

“If the only way people are going to punish one another around here is by giving them blue balls, I’m going to get tired reeeeal quick,” you murmur to yourself.

“Is that so?” Jimin says from behind you as he collects your clothes. “If that’s the case, we better start coming up with new forms of punishment.” 

“Yes, maybe you should,” you say, mock-grouchily. 

“I’ll start thinking up new and innovative ways. Maybe I’ll consult Jin—he seems creative when it comes to this stuff—especially if you’re going to be so quick to forget what you promised him.” He helps you into your clothes again, but remains naked himself. 

“But—” 

“No buts.” He seals your silence with a kiss. “Just do what you’re told.” The statement stings through you like a bolt of electricity. As much as you hate to admit it, you love when he tells you what to do. Even if you love fighting against it just as much. “You know why you should do what you’re told?” He continues, as he kisses down your throat.

“Why?” 

“Because then I can reward you. I can make you come again and again until you’re crying to stop, or hold you at the edge long enough that when you’re finally ready to tip over, it’s the best fucking orgasm in your whole life.” 

You can’t help but giggle. “Are you saying you’re the best fuck of my life?” 

“No. Not yet. But I can be.” He pulls away from you enough to see the shit-eating grin on your face. 

“I think some of your friends might fight you for that position.” 

“Maybe they should.” 

“Maybe they should what?” a voice comes from the door. 

“Hoseok—” 

Hoseok stands in the doorway, a confused look on his face. You imagine what he must be seeing, a naked Jimin in bed, and you, now entirely naked, too, now that Jimin stripped you of your panties, tangled up in each other. 

“What’s going on here?” Hoseok asks. 

“Do you really want to know?” Jimin asks.

“Um. Not really.” Then his gaze focuses on you. He lingers on your face, reading you, trying to figure you out. But then he catches himself. “Uh, maybe I should come back later.” 

“No!” you say, perhaps a little too eagerly, sitting up. “What is it?” 

“I just was looking for you,” Hoseok says, a little shyly. “I was hoping to steal you away.”  

“Let me get dressed.” 

You stand up, and pull your clothes back on, noting how Hoseok’s gaze flickers to you just in time to see you pull on your leggings without any panties on underneath.  

Jimin sits up quickly, pulling a pillow over his crotch for the sake of Hoseok’s modesty. “Just so you know—if you’re going to go together—I already said that if someone was going to wear panties that someone wasn’t going to be able to come.” He turns to you. “So don’t you go running off to lover boy, thinking you can get your rocks off.” Jimin turns his attention back to Hobi. “This one is very much not allowed to come. At least for the rest of the day.” 

Hoseok coughs. 

“Oh, I, uh, I wasn’t, I wasn’t presuming.” 

“Yes you were, asshole,” Jimin laughs. “We’re all presuming.” 

Hoseok flushes red all the way to the tips of his ears at the implication, but you find it charming. 

“You didn’t answer my question,” Hoseok says.

You glance at Jimin, who leans back with his hands laced behind his head. He looks like the perfect image of relaxation and… is that pride? There’s a soft smile curving at the corner of his lip, a kind of jesting smirk. 

“Go on,” Jimin says. “I’m already taken care of.” 

You roll your eyes. 

“Asshole.” 

But you stand and make your way to Hoseok nonetheless. 

“You have time?” he asks.

“I have all the time in the world.” 

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Radiostatic/Voxal Fic Rec List

Welcome to my Radiostatic/Voxal Fic Rec List! ^_^ This will include romantic, platonic, and/or queerplatonic Radiostatic fics (and admittedly probably a couple of Radiosilence fics, too).

I will keep updating this periodically as I read more fics, so feel free to check back every once and a while! I'll reblog it when I update it, plus make a note with the date at the top. Trust me, this is by no means a complete list; there's fics I still want to add to this that I just haven't gotten to yet. I just decided to go ahead and post it anyways, because if I kept waiting until I ran out of fics to rec I'd probably be working on this forever.

These are not in any particular order; I'm going by both my Bookmarks list on AO3 and my memory of fics I forgot to bookmark. I also tried to make notes on what fics were written before season 1 released, but I might have missed some, so keep that in mind.

Please let me know if any links don't work or are wrong!

✨Before you proceed:✨ read the tags on these fics if you decide to read them. Many of them have heavy material - no surprise given the fandom, but still, felt like this needed said. On that note, there's also fics with explicit material and some fics are straight up PWP. Again, read at your own risk/heed the tags.

Fic Rec List Masterpost

Staticmoth Fic Rec List

Misc. Vox Fic Rec List

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Radio Healed the Video Star by Aspiring_Forest_Witch

Summary: Alastor comes across an unconscious and battered Vox while out on one of his strolls. He feels compelled to bring him back to the hotel.

Notes: 98% of this fic was written before season 1 was released, so keep that in mind, because there's obviously going to be inconsistencies with canon. It's nearly finished (at least according to the author's notes in the latest chapters, I think). I suggest pacing yourself with this one - it's nearly 700k words long. I ruined a good sleep schedule staying up to get through it. (So worth it though.) There are quite a few OCs in later chapters, but they're such good OCs. You fall in love with them just as much as the canon characters, I swear. I would die for Verity and the Trio.

Let's Misbehave by joosymango

Summary: Alastor wins a bet against Vox, now his rival must stop pestering him for two weeks. It should be a pleasant break! So why does he miss the idiot?

Notes: Vaguely inspired by Aspiring_Forest_Witch's Radio Healed the Video Star. Also largely written before season 1 release. First fic I read for the HH fandom. ^_^

Safe with Me Series by rillo (rillyrillo)

Summary: Having only ever set his sights on men who treat women with odious disrespect, Alastor never thought he'd take interest in Vox's turbulent relationship with his fiancé and business partner, Valentino. He decides to lend a helping hand in the hopes of getting Vox out of his sticky situation. After all, what are childhood enemies for?

Unfortunately, neither Alastor nor Vox could've predicted the rollercoaster of unsaid emotions and future horrors that are thrown their way. Will they be able to rely on each other and get by unscathed? Or will destiny have other plans for these two?

[HUMAN AU] [There's art included for the human designs]

Notes: It's so, so good. ;-; Heed the tags. There's a prequel consisting of oneshots, plus a sequel (listed below, bc I can't not put it here)! And there's ART! So much art!

You, My Everything by rillo (rillyrillo)

Summary: Some say that love can conquer all, even in Hell.

Vox begged to differ, and he was damn well sure Alastor did too – or at least he would be, if Alastor hadn’t become one big question mark.

Sequel to Safe with Me.

Notes: Only read if you've read Safe With Me!!! Still pretty early in the story but so good. ;-; The angst, I swear...

You're on the Air by rillo (rillyrillo)

Summary: A series of short, daily conversations between a radio host and his avid listener, as the two learn more about each other’s lives over the air. Set in the late 90s/early 2000s.

Notes: Same author as Safe with Me, but not set in the same universe! This one is set up in a literal radio show format; almost entirely dialogue-centric.

Of Candied Pine and Cherried Smoke by rillo (rillyrillo)

Summary: Inspired by x_Arcticfox_x’s fanfiction: Blue Raspberries And Cherry Cola

After overdosing on them one too many times to curb the steadily weakening suppressants, Vox's body rejects them outright. Now with his scent getting stronger, he finds himself struggling to hide his true status as an Omega. In his desperation, he seeks help from the one person that knows his secret: Alastor.

Notes: Omegaverse. Same author as Safe with Me series and You're on the Air!

Blue Raspberries And Cherry Cola by x_Arcticfox_x

Summary: Vox is an omega, that's his biggest secret.

During his life time he hid this fact using suppressants, and counited to in death. One day he runs out of pills and his supplier is out of stock for the time being so Vox is forced to submit to the torture of going through heat for the first time in decades.

Too bad his business partner only see's omega's as mere object's...

But hey, at least Angel found him just in time, right?

Notes: Omegaverse. Currently on hold, but has 14 chapters currently available for reading. :)

Once Bitten, Twice Shy by The_Penny_Tails

Summary: Alastor decides that it's time to claim what is rightfully his, consequences be damned.

Notes: It's not porn but it might as well have been for how fucking intense this scene was. 😳

Dripping Pink by The_Penny_Tails

Summary: Just before an Overlord meeting, Alastor gets infected by an off-market, highly potent, and incredibly dangerous love potion. Nobody realises until it's too late.

Notes: Simultaneously funny as fuck and erotic as all hell. I suffered from so much secondhand embarrassment on Vox's behalf. It's wonderful. :D

Lucidity's Fog by The_Penny_Tails

Summary: Ever since he met Alastor, Vox has been having raunchy dreams about the deer. Those dreams suddenly stop when Alastor disappears. For seven years, he's free of the guilt, of the shame brought on by his unconscious desire.

Until Alastor comes back, and Vox is plagued by a new dream the same day he finds out about the news. This time, however, something is distinctively different about how the deer is acting.

Notes: Author tagged for light angst, but ngl the ending did not feel like 'light' angst to me lol. Hurt in a good way.

Finger Tips and Dotted Lips by The_Penny_Tails

Summary: Alastor has sensitive hands; he finds this out at the most inconvenient time possible. Unfortunately, Vox is the one who ends up paying the price for it.

Having to help a seemingly broken Overlord whilst navigating this new discovery proves to be a little more taxing than the Radio Demon could ever have imagined.

Notes: Alastor is such a troll in this omg.

Thawing Out by Seaside_Dreaming

Summary: Seeing a small crack in Vox's screen nags at Alastor more than he likes to admit.

Vox wishes things were better. Sooner or later, Alastor has to come to terms with the fact he has feelings, in general.

Notes: Written before season 1 release. HIGHLY suggest reading the prequel one-shot. It's not necessary to understand the plot here, but you should read it anyway.

Static by passthevoxcord

Summary: Vox creates a new and improved version of himself to please Val, only to be replaced by it. He is left beaten and broken with no one to turn to . . . except maybe his oldest enemy, Alastor.

Notes: Written before season 1 release.

Hating you feels so good by TwoBitJester

Summary: Vox obsesses over his returned enemy and finds himself a little too wound up

Notes: Very good PWP.

Laced Over Dinner by hazbinhearts

Summary: Vox is persuaded to dress a little differently over dinner for Alastor, but finds it remarkably uncomfortable as the night goes on. Written for VoxWeek21 Day 3: dressing up [appearance, formal, dance].

Notes: Written before season 1 release. Corsets. 😳

Observer by DeviousPossum

Summary: He moved the cursor to click off, when he suddenly heard a very recognizable static laced tone.

Alastor.

Alastor.

What the fuck. Alastor is singing.

Vox unintentionally ran claw marks across his desk, an increasingly common habit for him as of late. He grimaced at his now ruined table and unsuccessfully tried to reel in an inexplicable feeling that could only be described as jealousy.

Notes: Porn with a tiny bit of plot in the first chapter. :3

RadioTV Week 2021 Series by Heliosolar

Summary: Pretty much the title; various prompts.

Notes: Written before season 1 release. All worth reading, though they aren't connected.

Sharkblocking by Anonymous

Summary: Alastor is Vox’s number one rival. Incidentally, though nobody involved is aware of it, Alastor’s number one rival is actually Vox’s pet shark.

In which Alastor is actually a little obsessed back and Vark is the biggest obstacle to Radiostatic short of canon itself.

Notes: VARK!

Control + V by TooManyPsuedonyms

Summary: Vox and Alastor have a... thing. Not quite a relationship, but something. Vox is too scared to define it properly, and Alastor is dead set that Vox will eventually get bored of his lack of reciprocity and move on.

So, Valentino tries to show Vox what he is missing.

... too bad Vox didn't want him like that. ... too bad Alastor didn't know want is a vague word.

Notes: Heed the tags!!! There's currently a sequel; I haven't read it yet, but I definitely plan to. 👀

gift of the magi by vol_ctrl

Summary: "... Although husband and wife are now left with gifts that neither one can use, they realize how far they are willing to go to show their love for each other, and how priceless their love really is ..."

Alastor/Vox established relationship fluff.

Notes: Written before season 1 release. Very sweet. ^_^

the lost tape by vol_ctrl

Summary: There's a NEW ambitious media demon in Pentagram City. You never get a second chance to make a first impression, right?

Notes: Written before season 1 release.

12 Days of Yuletide by vol_ctrl

Summary: A parody of the 12 Days of Christmas traditional tune, as can only be done by Vox gifting to his beloved adversary.

Or, a series of letters from the desk of Alastor upon receiving a series of increasingly elaborate gifts from his insufferably modern foil during the holiday season.

Notes: Written before season 1 release.

Fear makes the heart grow fonder by Graysongirl

Summary: After a bit of inspiration from an unlikely source Vox comes up with the plan that scaring Alastor is the best route to gaining his affections. The haunted house at LuLu World seems like the perfect (safe) environment for a bit of pre-planned scaring...

[Stand-alone staticradio]

Notes: Written before season 1 release. Funny af. "Red! Red!" XD

Cordyceps, King of Ants by spappest

Summary: Vox is tired. Of Valentino. Of Velvette. Of Alastor, and Hell, and everything in between. He can't escape, but he can cut himself off, piece by piece, until he feels nothing at all. Alastor takes exception to this approach and commissions a certain princess of Hell to fix his foe. Now Vox has a hotel of misfits on one side of him, overlords on the other, and Alastor crushing his cage ever smaller.

Clearly, the only way Vox will get any peace and quiet is to just kill God.

Valentino did always tell him that he had no chill.

Notes: Started before season 1 was released. Technically features Staticmoth but it's not the focus as much as Radiostatic (which honestly has a relationship status of ??? not romantic but also not friendship or even strictly enemies...just...Alastor and Vox). O_O I think about this fic on a daily basis.

Russian Roulette by spappest

Summary: Vox and Alastor play a game that Vox is way too excited to lose.

Notes: Started before season 1 release. Take note!!! I'm putting this on the Radiostatic list because it's almost entirely centered on Alastor and Vox's dynamic, but the romantic relationship is Staticmoth. The Staticmoth is just not featured very much.

Vox and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Afterlife by spappest

Summary: Alastor goes into rut.

Vox has a bad time. Then a good time. Then a very bad time. Then a brief vacation. Then a confusing time.

Notes: Background Staticmoth, but Radiostatic is most prominent. Funny af. Alastor and Vox have...a very special relationship. Lol.

Killer Ex by FanGirl48

Summary: Alastor was a serial killer who valued his privacy. So when someone who claims to know what he is tries to barge into his life he can't let them live, his secret must be protected at all cost.

A normally easy task easy task becomes complicated when Alastor's ex-boyfriend is dragged into the whole thing forcing the serial killer to go visit them for the first time in seven years.

Notes: Human AU. Love me some possessive Alastor. <3

Negotiations by FanGirl48

Summary: Vox had no interest in attending a meeting between Heaven and Hell following the failed attack by the Adam and his Exterminators. Alastor's little gremlin caused the mess, so he can go clean it up. Vox had nothing wanted nothing to do with the radio demon, king of hell or heaven.

But that was before Lucifer made the media overlord aware of Valentino's little job offer to his daughter.

Damnit Valentino!

Notes: "And they were roommates!" "Oh my god they were roommates"

Down, Up, and Back Down by CowboyEnthusiast

Summary: Vox dies. Surprisingly no one takes this well.

Or, Vox dies and Alastor tries to drag his soul back from Purgatory.

Notes: Another fic I think about daily... Heavy themes. Heed the tags.

Hold Me Like a Grudge by Rachello344

Summary: Alastor has spent a long time running from Vox. Vox has chased after him almost as long. When suppressants fail throughout the city, they finally collide.

Notes: Omegaverse. Fun fact about this author: all their Radiostatic fic titles are from Fall Out Boy lyrics lol. (I fucking love FOB sue me.) I haven't yet read all of Rachello344's Radiostatic fics, BUT I have them all on my To Read list because I've loved everything I've read of theirs so far lol.

What Makes You So Special? by Rachello344

Summary: With Lucifer’s return to the Pride Ring, the other Deadly Sins were bound to take notice. When Asmodeus stops by the Pride Ring to visit the Morningstars, the Vees are able to make a deal to host a pop-up shop of the incredibly popular Lust Ring establishment, Ozzie’s, bringing it to the Pride Ring for the first time.

When Vox and Alastor both attend the restaurant’s opening night, long repressed sparks fly, forever changing their relationship.

Notes: Because of the pacing of this (sex first romance later), I feel like this is the Radiostatic equivalent of Femalefonzie's Freak-A-Zoid (a really good Staticmoth fic). This is hands down one of the most romantic Radiostatic fics I've read. ^_^

Hold Me Tight (or Don't) by Rachello344

Summary: Alastor and Vox finally come to an understanding, both of each other and of what they each mean to the other. Their relationship evolves accordingly, one concession at a time, until they both get everything they could possibly want: power, companionship, and even love.

Notes: So, so good.

Keep You Like an Oath by Rachello344

Summary: Alastor normally wouldn’t bother with the chore—breaking into V Tower was quite a lot of work, even for him—but he found himself curious about what Vox and his little friends might be working on. Especially since whatever it was had Angel concerned enough to report back to the rest of the hotel about it.

Of course, before he can learn anything, he’ll need to sneak past Vox’s watchful eye…

Notes: God it's just...so good. Read it. Radiostatic reconciliation. One thing I love about Rachello344 writing Radiostatic is Alastor's terms of endearment for Vox. ^_^

To Be Yours by pinegreenapples

Summary: Alastor hears something he hasn't heard in years. He decides to investigate why now, of all times, this frequency has turned back on. Vox is not amused.

Notes: Hurt no comfort. Hurts so good, though. ;-;

oleanders in june by spoondrifts

Summary: It seems like while Alastor was off preying on the self-destructive addictions of desperate sinners, Vox was off getting himself beaten half to death, probably from spouting belligerent nonsense at someone with violent tendencies and a far lower threshold for disrespect than Alastor. Not everyone finds poor Vox’s chatter as charming as he does.

If Vox is unconscious, then Vox is not being entertaining, and Alastor came here to have fun, not play nursemaid.

Or: Drunk on power and itching to cause some mayhem, Alastor hunts down the only person in the city who's always up for anything. Unfortunately, he finds Vox... not exactly in tip-top shape. No matter; he can work with that too.

Notes: ^_^ Very sweet.

equilibrium by curtailed

Summary: Post-Finale. The Hotel finds Alastor right on the front lawn, unconscious and bleeding, still injured from Adam's blade. While he recovers, all of Hell scrambles to find out who his mysterious rescuer is.

Meanwhile, Vox tries not to freak out that he might have accidentally made a soul bond to save that deer asshole's life. All he had wanted to do was to scope out the ruins of Alastor's radio tower. Fuck him for being curious, he supposed.

Notes: This fic has me in a CHOKEHOLD. I love the characterizations so, so much. Manages to fit in humor alongside the angst. One of the best fight scenes I've ever seen put into words. Curtailed really took Vox and Alastor as characters and planned out a cool fucking fight scene using their unique abilities. I automatically love anything tagged with "one fell first but the other fell harder" lol.

candlelight by curtailed

Summary: Despite the #SirRepentious success, Heaven remains skeptical of a sinner's ability to change. Logic gets lost somewhere, and really, what's a better way to show sinners can be marginally less horrible than to stick two Overlords who hate each other in the same living space?

OR

Alastor and Vox play house.

Notes: The comedy of Alastor and Vox being forced to be civil with each other and then unintentionally becoming very domestic together. Lol

wallow by curtailed

Summary: A 2+1 fic. Two times when Alastor and Vox were in a love triangle (hard quote on love, hard quote on triangle), and the one time Alastor had Vox to himself.

Notes: Only 1 (very good) chapter so far, but safe to say pretty heavy already. Heed the tags.

Addicted by Dancingdog

Summary: After the latest argument with Valentino, Vox finds himself at the Hazbin Hotel. An injured Alastor is less-than-pleased to see him, which is understandable considering they are enemies.

But as more and more of Valentino's venom leaves his system, Vox begins to remember his days before V-Tower and he learns exactly why Alastor rejected his offer all those decades ago.

His memories return in fits and spurts - not all of them good. His past with Alastor isn't something he expected and it turns out that he isn't the only one suffering.

Notes: Dude. This fic hurt me. Such good angst.

Radio Made the Video Star Series by songofhell

Summary: Snippets of Vox and Alastor's afterlife, and their journey from strangers to friends to enemies to... something more.

Notes: Pretty much what the series summary says - a series of installments that chronicle the beginning and subsequent evolution of Alastor and Vox's relationship. Very good, has tons of possessive!Alastor, which I die for.

Uneasy by Saezs

Summary: “Something’s wrong with Voxy.”

Velvette’s eyes snapped to the tall moth pimp. “And?” she prompted with a raised eyebrow. As if she needed to deal with two piss babies this close to a show. Valentino shrugged, tapping away on his phone, and walked away to stand threateningly close to her new models. Before she could snap at him, she saw it; his wings were twitching. Barely noticeable to strangers, just under the hum of the building’s lights, he was squeaking with each tap of his fingers. She felt unease and a healthy dose of aggravation swirl in her stomach.

Or: Vox was roofied and sexually assaulted. Velvette tries to be better than her mother. Unexpected connections are formed.

Notes: Heed the tags! Features genderfluid Vox. :)

Five Times Vox and Alastor Danced and One Time They Didn't by Drowsy_Salamander

Summary: “I say, good fellow, what are you doing on the ground like that?”

The voice was perky, cheerful, and bright. It had a crisp mid-Atlantic accent, the kind Vox remembered being all the rage for stage and film performers back when he first entered the broadcast industry. The diction was crystal clear with every sound enunciated separately to maximise clarity, the consonants clicked and the vowels were broad. It was a performer’s voice.

A voice for radio.

Oh shit.

... Five times Vox and Alastor danced and one time Vox and Alastor didn't.

From their first meeting through their friendship, to their enmity and fighting. From infatuation to yearning to animosity. Dancing is a partnership, is it not?

Notes: Each chapter so far has been a different type of dance, which is really neat. Especially chapter 2. ^_^ That said, there's a feeling of impending doom, knowing what happens to their relationship eventually... Not saying that as a deterrent but just a comment on how I felt while reading it lol. It's very sweet, which is why it hurts to think of future chapters. 🙃

Days Long Past by Momo52

Summary: All sinners of hell bore some physical marks of how they lived and died. Some physical manifestations were more obvious while others were subtle. Vox was not an exception to this rule.

While his television head was an obvious indication of his life while on Earth, the mark he bore from his death was far more subdued. Luckily enough, his shame was easily concealed behind a high collar. Unfortunately, he is just as well known in his afterlife as he was in his life. As such, trying to make everyone believe that he is so much stronger than what his death implies is a constant battle. He only wished that he wasn’t the hardest one to convince.

Notes: I think platonic Radiostatic is the endgame here. Still pretty early in the story, but I'm really liking this author's depiction of Vox and Alastor's pasts. Heed the tags. There are heavy subjects such as suicide (very big theme for Vox's pov) and period-typical racism (in Alastor's past) present in the story.

Remote Access by x-UsoTsuki-x (its_not_reael)

Summary: In the aftermath of Alastor and Vox's electrifying on-air showdown, Vox finds himself unusually rattled. His usual suave demeanor is slipping, much to his cohorts' amusement – and concern. Velvet can do little more than roll her eyes at his antics. Valentino, on the other hand, is convinced that all Vox needs to do is get fucked and relax.

or, alternatively...

The tech-savvy overlord manages to snag a virus from a porn site and finds himself in the arms of his worst enemy.

Notes: Fairly certain this is firmly Radiosilence based on the tags (and the direction of the story so far). Very funny, very hot. Vox is pathetic in this one. Lol

Nun-thing Like You've Ever Seen Series by A_Cypress_Coffin

Summary: Alastor, the feared radio demon with more blood on his hands than most of hell combined, wasn't always as we imagine him. There was a time where instead of a dapper suit and smile he donned a simple vow and habit. That didn't last of course, but the journey is quite something.

Notes: This author has a great sense of humor, lmao. I enjoyed the unique headcanons for Alastor's backstory. The tag that hooked me: "Accidentally becoming a better person through bad domming and found family".

Empathia by The_Oblivious_Swallow

Summary: Creating new technology is boring, sex is physically unappealing, the other Vee’s are so annoying, annoying, annoying! Even Vark, his baby, his pride and joy, doesn’t stir the same joy in his heart like he should.

So, Vox had concluded that it had to go. For his sake.

Notes: Contains Staticmoth, but Radiostatic seems like the endgame (I write this as there is one chapter still left). Really interesting idea. I love Vox.exe so much. ;-;

Every Madman Has His Vice by phantasm_png (chibellero)

Summary: “What the fuck do you want, Alastor? Was it not enough to kill me all those years ago? Now, you had to go for the people I loved and the only things I had left in this fucking Hellhole?”

“It was my fault,” Alastor whispers as he approaches Vox slowly, as if he was some sort of wounded animal he didn’t want to scare off. His prey. “Vox, I’m sorry. If I had a chance to redo that night, I would never have hurt you to this extent. I’ll never harm you again.”

“That’s seven years too fucking late, Alastor.”

OR: Seven years ago, instead of Alastor disappearing, it was Vox who left instead.

Notes: I’m so fucking here for this AU. Possessive Alastor, Vox helping with the hotel, Husk is still an Overlord, yessss

Metathesiophobia (Fear of Change) by phantasm_png (chibellero)

Summary: There's a lot that can change in seven years.

But never once had Alastor expected for something like this from his old rival and older friend.

Or, Alastor and Vox start to rekindle their old friendship again after a shocking discovery strikes the deer demon.

Notes: QPR Radiostatic with MtF Vox! Contains a smidge of Staticmoth, but it's in the background and not the focus. Very well written.

surimi and venison by phantasm_png (chibellero)

Summary: A series of short drabbles (500+ words) in an interconnected universe (peep the tags, they're still in hell), centering around Alastor and his new pet fish... shark... television thing. Will (hopefully) update 1-2 times a week. Written as my attempt at a Mermay series.

Notes: Like the summary says, Mermay prompts featuring SharkHybrid!Vox, along with Alastor, who literally saw Vox and decided to make him his pet. Lol.

an arm and a leg, my dear, les yeux d'la tête by phantasm_png (chibellero)

Summary: “I mean, usually when Val gets mad he gets like, super pissy too an’ starts destroyin’ shit ‘round the set and in his clubs, but like, usually Vox can calm him down. Problem is, where the Hell is that guy? I haven’t seen ‘im round the Tower for like, a month or two now. That ain’t normal.”

“What, so you mean he just up and left?”

“No, but like… he hasn’t been seen ‘in public’ for like, two months now. It’s startin’ to get suspicious. Like, I ‘unno if I’m just paranoid or something, but… Vox is like, the fuckin’ face of Hell’s Entertainment District. When he’s not round for a bit, that’s nothing to worry about on its own… but when he’s not round for a bit an’ Val and Velvette are creeping around, looking for his rival…? I mean… the dots are connecting. If Al did something…”

“If Vox was dead, we would know.” OR: Two months ago, Vox went missing. Right now, it seems as if Alastor has something to hide.

Notes: Vox gets attic-wifed and wears a virgin killer sweater. ^_^

we'll go down together in the ashes of our love by phantasm_png (chibellero)

Summary: Glimpses into the Radio Demon's life as he reluctantly navigates parenthood with his co-parenting partner and the demon princess hoisted onto him by the King and Queen of Hell.

Loosely inspired by Spy X Family.

Notes: CUTE! I love domestic Radiostatic.

What Has Been by Tianren

Summary: Vox has never known peace. From being the son of a egocentric cult leader, to being the boyfriend of a self absorbed abuser. Vox has managed to build a pretty sad life for himself. The only spot of sunshine that had ever blessed his existence was when he met an amateur true crime investigative journalist, with a podcast named, Alastor. The man was his only source of unfiltered news and contact to the world outside his father’s compound. But after Vox finally escaped the cult he waited for Alastor. Waited weeks in their assigned meeting spot just to be forgotten. Vox was convinced he’d stopped waiting for Alastor years ago until he meets the man again seven years later at a hotel. What will reconnecting with his past lead to and will it help him escape the hell he’s built for himself?

Takes place in the late 2000s early 2010s

Trigger warning for religious trauma and abuse as major themes of this story. Will add more warnings if they arise as I go on.

Notes: Really interesting human AU concept!

(Fic rec list to be continued)

[technicallyfriendly]

I promised a while ago I would make a fanfiction rec list for lucemond, so here we go:

Star-crossed by DominaReginald

I have to say this is my all-time favourite lucemond fic. If you like the Lucerys-gets-kidnapped-instead-of-eaten-at-Storm's-End-trope, then this one is already worth a read, but what I love about this story is that it shows how the conflict really impacts lucemond's relationship, which is the focus of the plot. Much happens, of course, but the story focuses on how the war and Aemond's subsequent participation in it impacts his relationship with Lucerys. It's also very interesting how this story handles the marriage pact with the Baratheons. But really, a short summary will not do this master piece justice, so I urge you to go and read it yourself! For anyone who is hesitant due to the major character death warning: It's not the main couple, though the deaths occurring are tragic and happen to beloved characters.

the beast you've made of me by MotherMaidenCrone

I don't think anyone has walked past this amazing and beautiful fic in this fandom, but it still deserves its mention on this list as well. No other story has ever done a Team Neutral approach this well and nuanced. If you wanna see Lucerys girilboss his way through King's Landing politics and beat everyone at the Game of Thrones in a desperate bid to save his family from self-destruction, this is for you!

the tragic evolution of desire by toraophim

So I debated long and hard before I added this on because, boy, does this one make you feel stuff, and a lot of it is not great. It's an amazingly written story, and since I enjoy dark themes, I did like it a lot. Though, and this is important, the warnings are there for a reason, this dove is deader than dead. Also, none of the characters are having a good time here aside from Aegon for a time, which is why you should not read this if you are an Aegon stan. The author really turned him into a monster. If you are like me and enjoy an emotional rollercoaster with a somewhat happy ending, I say proceed with caution ;).

Set fire to the rain by baby345

This is a collection of a few short stories about lucemond. I really enjoy the writing and its variety!

Blood for Blood by GoddessofRoyalty

The way the author puts it in the summary is actually the best way to describe this fic: Aemond is not cruel, but he is also not kind (and Lucerys has both none of and all the power). And that is also how I like their dynamic. The story is told in snippets of their life together before and after the marriage, and the writing is really enjoyable!

all I had to give by monkkeyslut

This one starts out as one-sided love despite Aemond trying really hard, in his own way of course, but it's not just about their relationship but also about dealing with the aftermath of the war and the current unstable position of Lucerys due to the continued absence of an heir. This fanfiction is not only well written and a great ride, but the author also has an interesting take on Alys before we got even got introduced to her in HotD.

Office Lucemond by Avonne

This is a collection of ModernAU!Lucemond fanfiction about lucemond matching each other's freak told through the eyes of their stunned and slightly terrified coworkers and through the eyes of a very unimpressed Vharga.

Borros and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day by lucerysinthesky

This is the funniest lucemond fanfiction I've ever read, which is why it gets a place on this list despite being tragically unfinished, but I have not given up hope quite yet! Maybe one day we'll get the last chapter. Still even unfinished, it is awesome, and it'll make you cry laughing, I promise. The title says it all already, and Borro's does suffer a lot while also having a full character arc and all while trying unsuccessfully not to die.

For now, I'll finish this rec list here, but there are still many more great stories out there that I haven't mentioned. Maybe I'll update it in the future or make another one for the once that I did not include here. For the ones reading this, I wish you a lot of fun reading the stories!

[aajjks]

FUCK! (M) [Masterlist]

synopsis. You hated your roommate but he had the biggest crush on you, fuck.

pairing: fboy!jk x fem!reader

genre: f2l, e2l, roommates au, fboy au (wow so many cliches), comedy au, mature themes, bad language, sex jokes.

warnings. mature, explicit language, future explicit content, sex jokes, cringey behaviour, embarrassing jk, his fboy tendencies are wild, superwoman yn, fluff, comedy, angst. A whole fuckin rollercoaster ride.

chapter index.

TEASER.

one.

two.

three.

four.

five.

six.

tba.

©aajjks 2022-23. please do not repost, modify, edit or translate.

[vivid-ink]

Hey folks! Annalise here. 😄 Welcome to my blog where I compose works of fiction based on whatever fancies my brain fixates on.

🔞 A word of caution - The content of my blog is mature and not suitable for minors under the age of 18. If you are a minor, please do not interact with my content and please feel free to block me if you wish. 🔞

My requests are currently CLOSED, but I'm still happy for you to chat to me! 😄

HUNGER GAMES: The Ballad of Songbirds & Snakes MASTERLIST

A TURN OF TABLES - Coriolanus Snow x Lucy Gray (oneshot)

AVATAR MASTERLIST

- SHOW ME & TEACH ME - {Neteyam x fem!Omatikaya Reader} 18+ MDNI (Complete)

Summary:

You were an inconsequential member of the Omatikaya clan who had failed your rites of passage once already. You were born to heal, not hunt or fight. So, why had the tsahìk designated Neteyam of all people to take over your training?

What business did the future olo’eyktan have mentoring you? But it was too late now. You should have known better than to fall in love with your mentor. You had known this day would come; the day when your success would mean losing his company. You should have clung on tighter to your heart while you still had it…

- TO KNOW YOU AGAIN - {Neteyam x fem!Omatikaya OC} 18+ MDNI (Complete)

Summary:

“Do you remember our last night here? The night before my family left?” The warm, rumbling timbre of Neteyam’s voice washed over her.

“Yes,” Naia whispered. How could she forget?... She had replayed the memory of his lips over and over numerous times.

One corner of Neteyam’s mouth lifted in a small smile as his eyes tracked over the delicate bridge of her nose and over her steadily flushing cheeks. His gaze stopped to rest on her lips, “You gave me something that night. I think it's time I returned it."

Set 7 years after TWoW: An exploration of what if Neteyam had to leave a girl he was close to behind when his family fled to the reefs to seek refuge.

-THE LOVE SHACK - {Neteyam(23) x fem!Omatikaya Reader(21) x Lo'ak(22)} 18+ MDNI (Complete)

Summary:

You’d heard the whispered speculations and stifled giggles during the daytimes. You’d seen the furtive glances that the other women cast at Neteyam and Lo’ak through coquettish eyes, cheeks stained a blushing mauve as they exchanged coy smiles with the two brothers.

And during the nights? Hell, you’d heard the moans and wanton cries for yourself… You were definitely curious, but did you have it in you to go through with their proposition?...

ONESHOTS & DRABBLES

Your Best Friend's Brother - {Neteyam x fem!Omatikaya Reader} Mission Accomplished - {fem!HumanReader x Neteyam OR Lo'ak} 18+ MDNI - Kinktober 01 - 'Handjob' prompt I See You - [fem!OmatikayaReader x dom!Alpha!Neteyam} 18+ MDNI - Kinktober 31 - 'A/B/O' prompt

***~ VividInk AO3 ~***

Want a novel-length adventure with a strong narrative? This one is 20 chapters (152k words) & too long to put on Tumblr, but I'm most proud of it! It's a real rollercoaster with a completely original plot!

- VIOLET EYES - {Neteyam x fem!Avatar OC} *Complete* 18+ MDNI

Also on Wattpad HERE

Violet Eyes Summary:

Ria’s gaze paused at his handsome face. Good God, he had grown… She remembered his striking face from years ago in a time of battle at sea, it had been softer with youth then. He had barely been taller than her. Now, he towered over her...

Neteyam lifted his gaze to hers; green-gold clashed with striking violet. Yes, he remembered those eyes. Even the years that had passed in-between had not made him forget.

He lowered his face, his lips curling in a snarl, “I should kill you.” The English words were stilted as he spoke, “But I will not. A life for a life.”

AU where Neteyam lives - set many years after The Way of Water, after the defeat of the humans.

[fumifooms]

Firefly wedding chapter 42 - 43 : Together - With you forever

How are we feeling broskis. These two chapters were an evil rollercoaster I need to talk about them. Thing are looking up…??? But also things are so transparently going to get worse. The outcome is happy in the moment but it’s setting up for failure by promising things that are still too up in the air. Will the red string of fate truly keep them together and for how long. The story’s been ramping up both references to her sickness and future death and to their happy ever after, which! Is very thematic and also terrible for my heart.

We go from sad about the backstory to soothed by the kind gesture to euphoric in the dreamlike flower field scene to scared and dreading to tentatively pleasantly surprised to paranoid "how can this go wrong" to indulging in the happiness of the moment to having sadness like a stone in your stomach.

It starts with some more setting up of their upbringings and weaves some pretty explicit parallels and causal links, and so when Shinpei talks about "only seeing Satoko", we know that his reflex to cling onto one thing hard, as if it’s the only thing he needs for happiness, was born from never having had anything. Going from having nothing to having one something is enough in his mind, but of course that’s not true, we know that, and that wouldn’t go as well as we’d like to think. And this is exactly what the leap between chapter 42 and 43 illustrates, from a high to a low in a blink of an eye, because Satoko couldn’t sate his hunger if he were to only feed on her to fuel his life.

This far he’d been fighting for scraps of attention and hints of affection, even illustrated in how he says "being asked so many questions by you makes me happy" even when the questions are about such sad things.

And then it doubles down with the possessivity and oh we see where this is going. Isolation and jealousy and violence. But this is where the supreme yandere writing enters!! They get to healthily confront it and deal with it, they are able to de-escalate!!! THEY DE-ESCALATED!!!

Firefly Wedding is a lot about balance, about hope vs facing reality, about obsession being bad vs care still being good, about running away from things while confronting others, about it being okay even if it’s a little bad or dishonorable, living in the past vs overthinking the future, leaving the past behind vs giving up on having a future, about compromising your health if it’s for the sake of living fully. About who gets to decide what you should do when and for what, and that counts your family, your lover and yourself too. Who gets to decide if you should die when and how and for what or who, if you’re allowed to cut your own finger for an oath or allowed to marry into a loveless political marriage like shackles, or marry into misery?

Satoko’s expressed it before too, sometimes Shinpei scares her, especially when he gets intense like this. But Satoko’s also had these very same thoughts, even if she has to abandon everything, maybe living on the island with Shinpei for the rest of her life would be better than to fight to get back home. Maybe a little wonderland of just the two of them, like the flower field, like the firefly lake, those unfiltered moments of the world’s beauty and inner peace, forevermore is what she wants. Maybe Shinpei is saying what she craves inside of her but knows herself is unattainable and based on unhealthy grounds, but what she craves nonetheless. The tension is high, how will she react? Push him away? Fold the knee?

But she sees herself reflected in his eye then. And she loves him. She loves him, and that’s why she knows she can’t let this go on. Because she cares about him.

Satoko refuses and we think it’s gonna get even worse. We think oh, the confession plans are so over. It’s gonna become a life or death chase or something now, like the fake-out when Shinpei felt "betrayed" by her and said he’d kill her except now the emotional dams are truly burst open.

LADIES GENTS AND PALS, EVERY ROMANCE’S LAST BOSS!!! COMMUNICATION!!! SUCCESS!!

And in her words you can hear how she’s already planning for her death, caring about how he’ll live after she’s gone. We’ve already had a very harsh wake up call with the mirror scene and it haunts us while reading just as much as it haunts Satoko, it haunts the whole narrative, it haunts the love. She’s doing Shinpei an ultimate selfless kindness with this consideration, reflected again and again in dialogue, also worried when she mentions how he has no attachment to life.

This is the beauty of Firefly Wedding as a yandere story, it’s about an obsessive lover who can’t handle the thought of their significant other not being there and the inevitability of that happening even in the best case scenario. About not delaying the inevitable but basking in the value of it while it’s there regardless, even if flawed even if fleeting. Both of them resigned to their own deaths and finding little worth in their lives, yet still making something out of them and fighting to have them be theirs. Their life, their death.

IT’S! THEM! BOTH!

Living as a zombie vs dying having felt alive.

It’s similar to the "If you don’t have a future then give it to me" -> "Live a good life, if not for yourself then for me" the story has played with before, but reframed once again as we grow one step closer to "if you can’t take care of yourself because you value your life, then maybe take care of yourself because you value your life with me".

So she tells him she loves him and everything is so great for a second before we go oh no. Oh no. Of course. How could I have forgotten. The abandonment issues!! The insecurities and paranoia mixing together into the possessivity soup!! The need for something to be material for it to be real, for it to be externalized to be able to trust it, and oh god he wants her pinky finger-

But the worst is avoided once again. Unlike many other stories of the like, this would have been a moment of full character regression for Shinpei, where all progress is lost and he becomes uncontrollably violent again, but no, there’s a key difference between Shinpei and those others, he cares. He has grown, and every turn for the worst was easily countered by openly talking.

How? It’s all only possible because he’s grown to truly value her words. To trust her. These chapters set up several times the conflict of "I don’t trust you saying good things about me", but that’s a him issue, that’s self-sabotage and self-defense jumping out when his trauma makes him hang onto her words like they’re life or death to him. The conflict is that he doesn’t trust her, but the resolution is that he does tust her.

He’s pitting his faith in her words against his instinctive lifelong fears and worldview beliefs, and her words are winning, because he’s allowing them to. Because he loves and trusts and values and cares about her. Having Satoko in his mind was supposed to make up for all the bad that could and would ever happen to him, the one shred of happiness that made it all worth it. It’d make up for all his past pain and fill the void his trauma left, but instead he fights it head on by himself, it’s his own strength from loving Satoko that fills that void, for his own sake. Love! Wins!

It’s so beautiful to see them learning how to love moment by moment throughout the story.

That’s definitely one of Firefly Wedding’s biggest strength and appeal I think. You can pinpoint in the character’s reaction the moment something clicks in them, the moment they realize something or when an emotion or fear kicks in, when a lesson is learned, all in just expression, body language and composition framing…

And this is our reward.

It is! It is healthier and happier than anything what Shinpei had asked for would have given! It’s getting better, beyond all of our wildest hopes!

Satoko got wet here to protect mere doodles representing her life plans with Shinpei, which isn’t exactly great for her health. Ultimately, on a small scale, risking herself for a very unimportant thing that however symbolizes something very important to her. I’ve had this thought before but it’s interesting to think of how Shinpei is literally bad for Satoko’s heart.

Besides the general stress of her situation or the time she chased after him out in the rain, I wonder if the jumpscares he regularly gives her by being naturally stealthy are physically bad for her… This might be something that won’t happen anymore, now that she has confessed and she isn’t as conscious around him anymore, but in the confession arc let’s call it, it was a very recurring gag. Stress is a natural part of life and can’t be avoided, and trying to extend your lifespan to the theoretical maximum is a risky unsatisfying game, so I’m wondering if that’s true in some ways… It’d go well with the manga’s themes I mentioned earlier, about how even if it isn’t the safest best bet you should embrace and pursue true love, and you should live your life fully and lively without overthinking. Sometimes knowingly potentially shortening your life for things that matter to you is worth it. He makes her heart beat, and is that truly such a bad thing?

Just before this we saw Shinpei give her his hand to help so her feet wouldn’t get wet. He wants to protect her fully, but we’ve seen several times how Satoko is ready to endanger herself for Shinpei, even jumping into the fray to shield him. He wants to protect her, sometimes from himself, because he loves her, but because she loves him she’ll always take the more dangerous path for the chance of him being alive and happy. The both of them lovingly selfless, and their wishes incompatible because of this. To marry or not to marry, how to marry, who to marry, for whose sake? What way to go about it would maximize the other’s happiness and the fullness of their life?

The red string of fate tying their pinkies together forevermore… Something doomed to be undone sooner or later, by circumstance or inadvertance or accident.

Reality crashes back in. Her health, her health, her health.

Reality crashes back in in ripples through the scene, and then one final wave when other characters walk into the new scene with something serious and ominous to discuss. Satoko and Shinpei are in a little make believe world of euphoria right now but the audience dreads for the reality of things. Satoko’s words talk of both living together forever, and of death, of living together forever until the end. Contradictory and irreconcilable you romanticize it into making sense.

The name of the chapter, "with you forever", is an impossible pipe dream of a lie. But that’s what Shinpei is hanging onto, and it’s all that Satoko wants.

And so they fantasize about the future and talk their daydreams into reality, making each other promises about eternal love and house plans, children and celebrations and domestic routines, about a life together they very might never get to have.

[ri-writes-if]

I just finished reading the new chapter and damn! It was such a rollercoaster of emotions!

And I can't even begin to describe just how much I hate Selene! Not saying it in a bad way though, just to be clear! She's just the kind of character I can't stand, even if she's delightfully written. Az suggested to my MC to be cordial with her for the time being, and the plan is sound, but damn, it'll be hard. She's that kind of character I find interesting because I think her circumstances are awful and tragic, but at the same time I can't bring myself to feel bad for her because it doesn't justify the way she currently acts (as explaining someone's behavior is not the same as justifying it). With that being said, I thank you so SO much for allowing us to tell the siblings (well, the siblings in my case since I'm on Az's route) about Selene already. I was genuinely scared it would be one of these situations where the MC just clams up and doesn't tell anyone about what's happening for who knows how many chapters, which is a trope I really tend to dislike. It was such a pleasant surprise to avoid it altogether!

Now, onto more "positive feelings", I'm so in love with Az. They are such a wonderful character on all accounts. The clothing and ring shopping was just so perfect, and damn that hug! Though I'm really insanely curious about what is the underlying issue they have in relation with the MC. I sort of "felt" it already before in the way they acted, but now thanks to the PoV change I had their actual thoughts on it, but I'm no closer to knowing what's going on, though at least I had confirmation of what I felt about it (so I guess it's still something!). It still fascinates me how Az isn't even "my type" of RO normally, and in any other story I would have probably picked one of the two royals, but I don't know, something about them immediately captured me entirely. I'm also pretty curious about what's the relationship between the siblings, because the more I think about them, the more I realize I don't know much about their dynamics. With the two royals, we at least know more of their dynamics thanks to some asks on the blog and what not, but the two siblings... I don't recall you saying much. And well, in that infirmary scene, it was a bit hard to read it considering they were both preoccupied with the MC and their injury and the Selene stuff and so on.

That aside, after re-reading from scratch (I changed computers and don't have my saves anymore), I had a theory that sprung in my mind. I think there is indeed an oracle blocking MC's visions of their own future that is NOT Selene. And that oracle would be MC's mother. She may be a powerful enough oracle to see pretty far in the future, and it's possible she saw something in her child's future that had her deciding to not only abandon them, but prevent them from seeing their future. Or rather, the future she saw. Meaning as long as MC was on a path or time frame where what she saw wouldn't appear to them, then they could see their future normally. But once they found themself on said path - probably related to the apocalyptic vision at the start of the game - it triggered the "block" as now we enter the territory of what MC's mother saw and thus knows well enough to block. Of course, I may be wildly overthinking it or just be plain wrong haha!

Oh and finally, a small bit of (I assume?) stray code:

I don't think the "cordial" is meant to be there?

Okay, that's it. Yeah, it's a VERY long ask that... isn't even an "ask" since I'm not asking anything! But I had so many feelings about this chapter! It was probably the best so far!

! Spoilers for Chapter 5

I hoped some would like Selene and some would not, so I’m pleased to see people have different feelings about her! I personally really love her because she’s a tragic character and tragic characters are my thing 😂 though I agree that her past doesn’t justify her current actions.

Yeahh. I was thinking of allowing to hide the incident with Selene, but the Oracle has their priorities straight, so it wouldn’t make sense for their character to sacrifice their own standing for Selene. They went to Vez to get their freedom back, and they’re not giving it away so easily. So I had to throw out that branch.

I’m happy you enjoyed Az’s route, especially considering they’re not your type! You’ll learn what their deal is with the Oracle in the future 😉 The next couple of chapters should have more Az + Ash combo, so I’ll have time to show their dynamic. But they’re pretty uh normal siblings? Az is a troublemaker, and Ash’s perpetually but fondly tired of their antics.

Your theory was very interesting to read. Thank you for sharing it! It’s wild and cool that people actually have theories about my story 🥺 Obviously I can’t confirm or deny it, but you’ll get the answer eventually.

Thanks for pointing that out, I’ll remove that code leftover.

I appreciate you taking the time to share your thoughts about the chapter. Reading these messages brings me joy every time! 💛

[shortnspidey]

CHAPTER SIX: ROCK N' ROLL DREAM

Eddie Munson x OC!Reader || WC: 4.6K

A/N: now without further ado, the chapter everyone has been waiting for, I made sure to make this chapter a long one!! Enjoy! 🤭

➩ previous chapter || next chapter

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➩ series masterlist

A rollercoaster of emotions were swirling through Lyra's mind. In the past twenty-four hours, she had felt so many unprecedented feelings that had been suppressed for years, bubbling up to the surface like a shaken soda can ready to explode. Memories of happier times mixed with the current turmoil, creating a chaotic storm within her. She knew that Billy hated change, clinging to the familiar like a lifeline. But the more time they spent in Hawkins, the longer he became unrecognizable to her.

Lyra remembered the days when Billy was her protector, always looking out for her with a fierce loyalty. But now, his actions were more erratic and unpredictable. She could see the anger simmering just beneath the surface, a ticking time bomb waiting to go off. The small town of Hawkins, with its eerie stillness and lurking shadows, seemed to amplify his inner demons, turning him into someone she could barely understand.

The weight of the past and the uncertainty of the future pressed heavily on Lyra's shoulders. She felt a pang of guilt, wondering if there was something she could have done differently, some way to reach out to the brother she once knew. The howling wind snapped her out of her inner turmoil as she hugged the leather jacket closer to her body so that it would provide some much needed comfort and warmth that she desperately needed. The cold air bit at her cheeks, turning them a rosy shade, and her breath formed small clouds in the frigid night.

She took a second to distract herself by analyzing Tina's backyard. The yard was a spectacle of Halloween creativity. Fake cobwebs stretched between the trees, glistening in the moonlight, and plastic skeletons hung from the branches, swaying gently in the wind. Teenagers from Hawkins certainly knew how to throw a rager. However the decorations and trash that littered the yard weren’t the only thing that caught Lyra’s attention. She was quick to noticed a shadowy figure completely isolated from everyone. The only indication that she wasn't out there alone was the amber glow of their cigarette.

Letting her eyes adjust to the darkness she noticed that he was wearing a costume she definitely recognized for the first time all night. He was dressed in tight black jeans, a leather jacket adorned with metal studs, and a wild mane of curly hair that framed his face. Without thinking too much about it, her feet carried her over to the stranger, the words tumbling out of her mouth before she could stop them. "Kirk Hammet." The stranger in question nearly spat out the beer he had taken a swing from.

He swore he was hallucinating, that is until his eyes met Lyra's. "W-What?" He spluttered trying to wrap his head around the fact that a pretty girl knew who he was dressed up as. "I like your costume, bold choice."  The stranger chuckled nervously, running a hand through his curly hair. "Well if the shoe fits." He gestured to himself theatrically. "Thanks, not many people get it. You into Metallica?" His voice was a mix of surprise and curiosity, the kind that made Lyra feel a little less like an outsider in this sea of unfamiliar faces.

"Yeah, you could say that," She replied, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. The night air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of pine and the distant laughter of partygoers. Breaking the silence, Lyra watched as the long-haired stranger reached behind him to grab a metal lunchbox, its surface adorned with stickers of various rock bands. "So, you interested in some of the devil's lettuce, sweetheart?" He asked, shaking it comically, the contents rattling inside.

Lyra couldn't help but scoff, her breath visible in the chilly air. "You're a dealer?" She raised her brow in question, her curiosity piqued. "Only the best in Hawkins," He smirked, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Eddie Munson at your service." He bowed theatrically, his wild curls bouncing with the movement. Lyra chuckled, feeling a strange sense of camaraderie in his presence. "As much as I appreciate the offer, that's more my brother’s vice rather than mine," She replied, her voice tinged with amusement.

Eddie's face fell slightly, but he quickly recovered, a playful grin spreading across his face. "Shit, I'll make myself scarce then," He said, pretending to tip an invisible hat before turning to leave. But before he could take a step, Lyra reached out, her fingers brushing against his arm. The contact was brief, but it sent a jolt of warmth through her, grounding her in the moment. "Wait," She said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "You don't have to go." Eddie's eyes softened, and he nodded, taking a step closer.

The night seemed a little less cold, and the world outside Tina's backyard felt a little less daunting. Breaking the silence, Lyra watched as the long-haired stranger, Eddie Munson, settled down beside her on the weathered bench. The wood creaked under his weight, adding to the symphony of crickets chirping in the background. He leaned back, his eyes scanning the star-strewn sky above, a thoughtful expression on his face. "So you're the new girl I've been hearing so much about." He concluded putting two and two together. His voice was low and smooth, carrying a hint of curiosity.

Lyra shrugged, turning to face him, her eyes reflecting the twinkling stars above. "What gave it away?" She questioned, her tone light but her eyes searching his face for an answer. "Well," He started holding up his finger. "For one I've never seen you around, and I'd remember someone with good taste in music." And two," He held up two fingers. "Gossip travels fast at the hellhole that is Hawkins High." Lyra chuckled softly, the sound blending with the distant rustle of leaves. The air was cool, but the warmth of their budding conversation kept the chill at bay.

Eddie's eyes sparkled with a mix of mischief and genuine interest, making her feel oddly at ease. "So, you got a name, or am I going to have to call you sweetheart all night?" He teased, his smile widening. "Lyra," She replied, her voice steady but soft. The name felt like a bridge between them, a small but significant step towards familiarity. Eddie nodded, as if committing her name to memory. "Lyra," He repeated, letting the name roll off his tongue. The way he said her name made it feel like more than just a formality; it felt like the beginning of something new and unexpected.

"You got another cigarette on you, Eddie?" Lyra questioned teasingly, quite confident that she knew the answer. "You wound me," He muttered, digging the pack out of the inside of his leather jacket. "Never leave home without it, even if I promised my uncle I'd quit." He pulled out a cigarette and handed it to her, the silver rings on his fingers catching the faint light from the porch. Lyra took the cigarette, feeling the cool paper between her fingers. The smell of tobacco mixed with the earthy scent of the night air, creating a strangely comforting aroma.

Eddie struck his lighter, the brief flare of light illuminating his face before he held the flame to her cigarette. She inhaled deeply, the smoke curling up into the night sky, blending with the misty breath of the cool evening. Eddie leaned back, his own cigarette dangling from his lips. "You know," He said, exhaling a cloud of smoke, "My uncle's always on my case about these things. Says they're gonna be the death of me." He chuckled, a sound that was more resigned than amused. Lyra watched the smoke drift away, her thoughts momentarily lost in the swirling patterns.

"Yeah, well, sometimes it's the little rebellions that keep us sane," She replied, her voice tinged with a quiet defiance. She glanced over at Eddie, noticing the way his eyes softened, as if he understood more than he let on. The night seemed to stretch on, the silence between them comfortable and unforced. "So what's your story?" Eddie asked catching Lyra by surprise. She raised her brow in question urging him to continue. "You don't drink or smoke weed, but you smoke tobacco and ride a motorcycle," He thought aloud, his tone carrying a hint of admiration. Eddie's gaze met hers, and for a moment, it felt like they were the only two people in the world.

“Don’t forget, I also like metal,” She added with a smirk, the edges of her lips curling into a playful grin. The sound of distant laughter and the rustling of leaves filled the air, but their focus remained solely on each other. “Right, how could I forget,” He teased, making Lyra smile, her cheeks flushing slightly in the cool night air. After a beat of silence, almost as if Eddie was trying to figure out exactly what to say, he finally spoke. "You're interesting," He concluded, his voice filled with genuine curiosity and admiration.

This made Lyra let out a chuckle, the sound light and melodic, blending seamlessly with the rustling leaves around them. "Says the resident metalhead - drug dealer," She sassed back, motioning to him and his metal lunchbox, which he always carried with an air of nonchalance. "Touché," He smirked, taking a long drag out of his cigarette, which was almost out. "I gotta ask, how'd you even get into metal in the first place?" Eddie questioned. "Well," Her eyes flickered with nostalgia as she thought back to her childhood.

"When you have a brother who blasts it 24/7, it tends to grow on you." She could almost hear the distant echoes of guitars and drums coming from Billy's room, the relentless beats becoming the soundtrack of her formative years. "Besides," She smirked to herself, her eyes sparkling with a hint of mischief. "Axl Rose's ass looks amazing in leather." She snickered, recalling the posters that she had admired everyday on the walls of Billy's room. "Jesus H. Christ," Eddie groaned, falling backwards on the wooden bench dramatically.

"You're one of those girls." Lyra scoffed, teasingly shoving his shoulder. "You know if you're ever interested in hearing some live metal music sometime and giving your ole’ Walkman a break, my band and I play at the Hideout on Tuesdays." He suggested, his voice carrying a hint of hopeful excitement. "Why does it not surprise me that you're in a bad." Lyra thought aloud, her eyes twinkling with amusement. Eddie was about to give her a witty remark when she interrupted, her curiosity piqued. "Let me guess, with your theatrics, you're the lead guitarist too?"

"And lead singer most nights." He announced proudly, puffing out his chest a bit. The pride in his voice was unmistakable, and Lyra couldn't help but smile at his enthusiasm. "So you're one of those guys." Lyra teased throwing his words from earlier back at him. Eddie couldn't help the smile that made it's way on his face. There was absolutely no way that a pretty girl liked metal and appreciated his humor. "Maybe I could get your number and-" Only Eddie didn't get to finish his sentence. A sudden loud crash from a nearby alley interrupted him, causing both of them to look in that direction.

Hearing the commotion of "Ooos" coming from inside the house made goosebumps arise on Lyra's skin. That could not be good. The night air felt suddenly colder, the chill seeping into her bones as she tried to gauge the situation. "Duty calls?" Eddie asked, immediately noticing Lyra's shift in demeanor. His voice was gentle, yet tinged with curiosity and concern. Lyra turned to give Eddie a remorseful look, wishing she could stay in his company longer. The warmth and ease of their conversation had been a rare comfort. "I'm so sorry,” She apologized, seeing the disappointment swimming in his chocolate doe eyes.

“I just have a feeling that my brother is somehow involved and we have a curfew," She explained, her voice tinged with frustration and a hint of regret. She could feel the weight of responsibility pulling her away. "No biggie sweetheart, just get home safe, alright." Eddie replied with a reassuring smile. His calm and understanding demeanor was a stark contrast to the chaos she anticipated inside. "Thanks, Eddie," She smiled, grabbing her helmet. "It was really nice to meet you." With an affectionate squeeze to his bicep, Lyra ran inside to see what all the commotion was about, her heart pounding with a mix of anxiety and the lingering warmth of their brief connection.

Upon entering the house, which was now even more trashed than when she arrived, Lyra maneuvered herself through drunken bodies to try and find the source of the commotion. The air was thick with the smell of alcohol, and the sound of loud, off-key singing mixed with laughter still filled the room. She carefully stepped over broken glass and discarded cups, her eyes scanning the chaotic scene for any sign of trouble. She let out a breath of relief seeing as Billy was nowhere to be seen, yet she worried that was a bad sign too.

The last time she saw him, he was already on edge, and his absence now could mean he was getting into even more trouble elsewhere. Those thoughts were quickly put on pause as someone from behind crashed into her. She clutched onto her shoulder, hoping that her hand could relieve the sting before turning to give the drunk partygoer a piece of her mind. "Watch where you're going!" She hissed, only she was taken aback due to making eye contact with 'King Steve'. The same person her brother was face to face with hours earlier.

Upon noticing his disheveled hair and red-rimmed eyes, Lyra momentarily felt bad for yelling. Steve Harrington wanted nothing more than to snap back at the blonde girl in front of him, but decided against it. Instead he shook his head, his expression a mix of frustration and exhaustion, and made his way to the front door without another look back. “Asshole.” She muttered stretching out her aching shoulder and took a deep breath, trying to shake off the residual anger. Suddenly, she heard a slurred curse behind her, "S-Shit!" Spinning around, she saw a drunken girl stumbling, her eyes half-closed and her movements unsteady.

Lyra quickly stepped forward, just in time to steady the girl who looked like she could pass out any second. "Woah, are you okay?" Lyra questioned, her voice softening with concern as she looked into the girl's glazed eyes, trying to gauge her condition. The girl's makeup was smeared, and her hair was a tangled mess, suggesting she had been through quite an ordeal. "I'm f-fine," She slurred, her words barely coherent. Yet Lyra could tell by her disheveled appearance and the way she swayed unsteadily that she was far from fine. The strong smell of alcohol lingered around her, her clothes were wrinkled and slightly damp a red splotch staining the white material.

"Let's get you some fresh air, okay?" Lyra suggested, trying to guide her towards the door. She placed a supportive arm around the girl's shoulders, feeling the cold sweat on her skin. Yet before Lyra could direct her outside, a familiar voice interrupted. "Woah, Nancy, what happened?" Jonathan Byers questioned, his eyes widening with concern as he took in the scene. He stepped closer, his brow furrowing in worry. A moment of realization seemed to cross Nancy's face before she looked at Jonathan, her voice barely above a whisper. "Steve's bullshit," She muttered, her words thick with emotion and fatigue.

Her eyes were red-rimmed, and she looked like she had been crying. Jonathan frowned, his worry deepening as he glanced between Lyra and Nancy. "I need to get her home," He announced, taking a gentle but firm hold of Nancy's forearm. He began to steer her towards the front door, his grip steadying her as she stumbled slightly. Nancy's breathing was shallow, and she leaned heavily on Jonathan, her head drooping as if the weight of the world was pressing down on her. "Let me help you," Lyra insisted, her voice filled with concern and urgency as she followed closely behind Jonathan. She reached out to support Nancy's other side, her hands trembling slightly with worry.

The trio moved slowly through the crowded room, weaving between groups of people who were oblivious to the unfolding drama. As they reached the front door, the cool night air rushed in, bringing a momentary sense of relief. The stars were faintly visible against the dark sky, and the distant hum of traffic provided a soothing backdrop. Lyra could feel the tension in Nancy's body begin to ease slightly, but she knew they still had a long way to go. She glanced at Jonathan, who nodded in appreciation, his eyes reflecting the same concern and determination that she felt. Together, they guided Nancy outside, hoping that the fresh air and the quiet of the night would help her recover.

As they reached Jonathan's car, Lyra was quick to pull his passenger car door open so that he could gently place Nancy inside without much of a struggle. Nancy slumped into the seat, her eyes half-closed, as Jonathan carefully buckled her in, making sure she was comfortable and secure before shutting the door softly. Turning to Lyra he fiddled with his fingers, his eyes darting around nervously. "I, um, saw your brother passed out by the tree on the side of the house," He informed her, his voice tinged with concern. She was unable to stifle the eye roll, knowing that dealing with Billy was going to be a challenge.

Lyra couldn't help but roll her eyes, the exasperation clear on her face. The image of her brother sprawled out under the tree flashed in her mind, adding to her already mounting stress. She took a deep breath, steeling herself for what was to come, while Jonathan gave her a sympathetic look, his hands now resting on the roof of the car. "I'll take care of it," She sighed a hint of exasperation crossing her face. "Get home safe," At her words he nodded, giving Lyra a reassuring smile. He jumped into the driver's seat of his car, the engine roaring to life as he turned the key. With a final wave, he drove off into the night, leaving Lyra to deal with Billy. She watched the taillights disappear around the corner, the weight of the night's events settling heavily on her shoulders.

Taking another deep breath, she turned back towards the house, her footsteps echoing softly on the gravel driveway. The porch light flickered, casting eerie shadows that seemed to dance with the wind. She hoped that Billy wouldn't be too far out of it, but as she neared the side of the house, her hopes were quickly dashed. Sure enough, just as Jonathan had said, Billy was sprawled out, nursing a bottle of god knows what in his hand. The smell of alcohol hit her before she even reached him, a pungent mix of whiskey and stale beer. As she reached him, she couldn't help but wrinkle her nose in disgust.

"Jesus, Billy, you smell like a bar. How much did you drink?" She muttered, crouching down to his level. She gently pried the bottle from his hand, her fingers brushing against his clammy skin. The night was far from over, and as she helped him to his feet, she knew that the real challenge was just beginning. "K-Keg King." He slurred, a sloppy smile spreading across his face. For a brief moment, he seemed proud of himself, but the smile quickly faded when he caught sight of his sister's hardened expression. The disappointment in her eyes was unmistakable, and it cut through his drunken haze like a knife.

"Keys," Lyra demanded, holding her hand out, her voice firm and unwavering. She wasn't in the mood for any of his usual antics. Her patience was wearing thin, and all she wanted was to get him inside and away from any more trouble. Billy fumbled in his pockets, the sound of jingling keys breaking the tense silence. Finally, he pulled them out and dropped them into her waiting hand, his head hanging low in shame. Lyra clenched the keys in her hand, the cold metal biting into her palm. She took a deep breath, steadying herself before wrapping an arm around Billy's waist to support him. They stumbled together towards his Camaro, the gravel crunching under their feet in the quiet night.

"You can't keep drowning your problems in alcohol." Billy's head lolled to the side, his eyes half-closed. "I'm fine." He mumbled, his words barely coherent. Lyra shook her head, guiding him into the passenger seat and buckling him in, only taking her eyes off of him to throw her helmet in the backseat. "This isn't fine," She said softly, more to herself than to him. She walked around to the driver's side, her mind racing with thoughts of what to do next. As she started the car, she glanced over at Billy, who had already drifted off to sleep. She sighed, the weight of responsibility settling heavily on her shoulders.

Just then like a bucket of ice water being dumped onto her, she realized that she and Billy had come to the party separated. Her eyes darted to the spot where her motorcycle was still parked a few feet away, gleaming under the streetlights. There was no way she was about to leave her prized possession in someone else's driveway overnight. "Shit," She muttered to herself, fighting the exhaustion that was beginning to cloud her mind. She needed to formulate a coherent plan, but her brain felt sluggish and uncooperative. The thought of abandoning her bike gnawed at her, but so did the idea of leaving Billy alone in his current state.

Almost as if someone was answering her thoughts, Lyra spotted the familiar unruly hair of Eddie Munson, a few feet away throwing his metal lunchbox into a van. This was her only chance. "Stay in the car." Lyra demanded throwing the drivers seat open. Hearing those words, Billy woke up from his drunken slumber, sitting up straighter and fumbling with his seatbelt. "But-" Lyra's harsh voice cut him off. "Billy I mean it!" She all but growled, her patience snapping. "Stay. In. The. Car." With those final words she slammed the door to his Camaro shut leaving no more room for argument.

"Eddie, wait!" She called out, sprinting towards him, her heart pounding in her chest. Eddie turned, his eyes widening in surprise as he saw her approaching. "Lyra? What's going on?" He asked, concern etched on his face. "I need your help," She said breathlessly, glancing back at the car where Billy was slumped. He followed her line of sight, his brows furrowing momentarily. "I need to get him home, but I drove my motorcycle here. Is there any way, and of course if you don't mind, can we store my motorcycle in the back of your trunk? Just for tonight I promise I'll-" Yet her rambling was cut short. "Hey," Eddie coaxed placing his hands on her shoulders reassuringly.

"Slow down." He spoke softly, his touch grounding her in the moment. She could feel the warmth of his hands through her jacket, a stark contrast to the chill of the night air. "Go grab your motorcycle, I'll make room in the back of my van, okay?" His words were a balm to her frazzled nerves, and she nodded, feeling a wave of relief wash over her. She watched as Eddie moved with purpose, his movements quick and efficient as he opened the van's back doors and began rearranging the clutter inside to make space. Eddie started to move the band's supplies around, carefully stacking amplifiers and drum kits to one side, making sure nothing would topple over during the ride.

He meticulously placed guitar cases and mic stands, his hands moving with a practiced ease that spoke of many nights spent loading and unloading gear. The van, once a chaotic mess of cables and equipment, began to take on a semblance of order under his diligent care. Not feeling confident enough to answer, she simply nodded again, her eyes following Eddie's every move. She could see the determination in his eyes, the way his brow furrowed slightly as he focused on the task at hand. It was a small gesture, but in that moment, it meant the world to her. The sight of Eddie’s methodical movements and the sound of equipment being carefully arranged provided a strange sense of comfort, making her feel that everything would be okay.

As Eddie continued to rearrange the band supplies, Lyra made her way to her motorcycle, with a gentle rumble, she started the engine, the sound a familiar comfort to her ears. Slowly and carefully, she maneuvered the motorcycle towards the waiting van. Eddie glanced up from his task, a smile playing on his lips as he saw her approach. Together, they worked in harmony, coordinating the loading of the motorcycle into the back of the van. Eddie guided her with precise hand signals, ensuring the bike was securely fastened for the journey ahead. With a final click, the van doors were closed, the task completed. As they both stepped back, a sense of accomplishment filled the air. Lyra turned to Eddie, gratitude shining in her eyes. "Keep her safe for me." She whispered, her voice carrying a mix of hope and reliance.

"Scouts honor." He assured, using his fingers and crossing his heart over his leather jacket. The gesture, both earnest and endearing, made a smile make its way onto Lyra's face. "Thanks Rockstar, I owe you one." Even in the moonlight, it was hard to miss the crimson blush that made its way onto Eddie's face. He looked down for a moment, kicking a small pebble with his boot before meeting her gaze again. "Get home safe, alright." Lyra nodded, feeling a sense of peace wash over her. She gave Eddie one last appreciative look before turning to leave, the sound of her boots crunching on the gravel the only noise in the stillness.

As she walked away, she glanced back over her shoulder, catching Eddie's eye one more time. He gave her a small, reassuring wave, and she couldn't help but smile. As she opened the door to the Camaro, the leather seat creaked softly under her weight. Billy jolted awake as Lyra started the engine, his eyes bleary and confused. The soft hum of the engine seemed to pull him fully back to consciousness. Almost as if he remembered that they had driven separately, he voiced Lyra's concern from a few minutes prior. "Y-Your bike." His voice was groggy but filled with genuine worry. "It's safe with a friend." She reassured, her voice calm and steady as she inserted the key into the ignition.

She could feel the familiar vibration of the engine beneath her, a comforting reminder of the freedom and speed that awaited them. With a quick, practiced motion, she shifted gears, and the Camaro roared to life. She glanced at the clock on the dashboard, her eyes widening upon noting the time and realizing that they had to hurry. The thought of Susan and Neil realizing they were out past curfew sent a jolt of adrenaline and through her, stress and anxiety resurfacing. The tires screeched slightly as she pressed the accelerator, the car speeding off into the night.

[veronyxk84]

Spuffy Fic Recs — September

Missed last month’s recs? Check this tag to catch up!

Find my Fic Recs on Dreamwidth as well

I present a list of 5 Spuffy fics I’ve read in September. They’re all complete and all links are for Sunnydale After Dark; some were published months ago because I’m going through my bookshelf.

(NOTE: some or all may be available on other archives as well).

Listed from oldest to most recent; see the publishing year (on SAD) before the title.

Some reviews are taken from my own comments left for the stories. I tried to make them short and not spoiler-y.

(2023) Forgiveness Doesn't Come Easy by Slaymesoftly [R] 38 chapters

Summary: An addition to the John and Buffy series in which Buffy, while visiting Dawn in Cleveland, has found an amnesiac human Spike "John" many years after NFA, and they have a relationship in spite of his lack of memory of who or what he was. This story begins in the UK at the Slayer and Watchers Council school where Buffy lives when not traveling on Council business. Spike has decided to let the coven try to regain his memories for him.

Review: This one is not complete just yet, but the epilogue should be close, so I decided to include it anyway, because it’s a great story. Set in the future, it follows Buffy, Spike, and the gang in an intriguing journey of discovery regarding some hidden truths about Slayers and Potentials throughout history. The premise is very compelling, you don’t want to miss this.

(2024) Perception by flootzavut [G] 6 chapters

Summary: five happy endings Dawn Summers anticipated and the one she actually got to see.

Review: Third installment of the series "all the reasons (why)." The previous two stories are not needed to enjoy this one, but I highly recommend them. Follow Dawn on a journey as she witnesses a few heartbreaking moments in the rollercoaster relationship between Buffy and Spike... but there’s a reward at the end.

(2024) The Ten Second Rule by Girlytek [PG-13] one shot

Summary: Another chapter from Andrew’s book!

Review: The first installment was part of my fic recs for May and June: the title was "Second Rule of Book Club". While it’s not necessary to read that in order to enjoy this new jewel, I highly recommend that you do because it’s a fun read! Buffy and Spike continue their adventure reading Andrew’s book... and one of the reasons you’ll want to join them, is that there’s gorgeous artwork attached, by the incredibly talented Claire. A story inside the story, Andrew’s tale is ridiculously hilarious and you don’t want to miss the comments from Buffy and Spike.

(2024) Salvaged by RavenLove12 [R] one shot

Summary: After finding Spike brutally injured in an alleyway, Xander and Willow go to Buffy with concerns there may be a new big bad in town.

Review: A fix-it fic for "Dead Things" that picks up after Buffy leaves the police station, not paying a second thought to Spike, whom she’s left behind bruised and battered. The journey into Buffy’s fragmented state of mind is very accurate, and unlike what happens in the show, we get to see her confront her role in what she did to Spike.

(2024) William the Bloody by Apache Firecat [PG-13] one shot

Summary: Sometimes Vampires daydream too, and it’s not always what their human companions might suspect.

Review: A clever story inside the story twist with our beloved characters thrown into an epic adventure... and I really can’t say more without spoiling some major points of the story that are better discovered while you read.

[babyhatesreality]

The Sinner and the Saint Ch 3

Pairing: (eventual) Mob!Boss Bucky x f!reader

Warnings: NSFW, f!reader, language, fake names (for now), Truth or Dare, LOTS of innuendos and dirty thoughts, everybody has secrets, reader says unkind things about herself, reader is an exotic dancer, reader is extremely flexible dancer :D, reader uses several dance styles, Bucky (aka Nick) is a little shit, touch of angst, touch of fluff, slow burn relationship. There will be many, many more warnings for future chapters including mafia and all the stuff that comes with that, kinks, and smut. 

YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN MEDIA CONSUMPTION. MINORS DNI. THIS IS AN 18+ STORY ONLY AND IS NSFW. I DO NOT CONSENT FOR ANY OF MY WORKS TO BE COPIED, REPRINTED, OR TRANSLATED ONTO ANY PLATFORM EXCEPT MY OWN.

Previous- Chapter 2

Chapter 3

“Who goes first?” you asked boldly, smiling at him.

“Well,” Nick said, running his gloved finger along his chin as he thought. “I SHOULD say ladies first. It’s be the proper thing to do. Gentlemanly and all that.” He tossed the rest of the bourbon into his mouth, then set the glass down definitively. There was a dangerous sparkle in his eye. “Well, I’m always a gentleman, but I’m definitely not proper,” he said with an evil grin. “So. Truth or dare?”

Your own lips twisting as you tried not to show how much that glint in his eye was turning you on, you merely tilted your head like you were thinking. “Um...truth,” you said, pretending like it had been a thoughtful decision. 

“Do you like working here?”

“Honestly, I love it. Most of the girls are fantastic, and Ms. Romanoff’s one of the best bosses I’ve ever had.” You paused to take another sip of champagne. “Then of course, I get to meet charming men like yourself as well,” you said overtly flirtatiously, in an attempt to...well, you weren’t sure. This guy paid for your company in the freaking VIP Champagne Room, which WAS NOT cheap- shouldn’t you be giving him compliments and making him feel like an alpha male or something like that? Your inexperience was making you both mad and terrified. 

Nick gave a carefully constructed and corporate smile at your words. One that was acknowledging your flattery but also said he didn’t truly accept it. Your guts twisted again. That made you panicked and disappointed that you had failed. Not just at your job, but...him. You’d failed him. And that really bothered you.  Disappointing him was...not an option.

 Before you could put your filter in place, the words came tumbling out again. “Sorry if that was inappropriate,” you said, your face turning Hooker Lipstick red. “I...I mean, you’re really nice and I just...I don’t think you’re getting your money’s worth with me just running my mouth and being so dumb and I don’t want you to waste your time-”

You snapped your mouth shut- FINALLY- as Nick’s jaw dropped, his shocked blue eyes piercing you down to your soul. Finally, he collected himself. “No, I...no that’s not what I was thinking at all,” he stammered. “You thought that...” he choked to a halt, looking flabbergasted. A teeny tiny part of you rejoiced that you weren’t the only one on the back foot now, but THAT made you feel more guilty. Shit, if you could afford a Therapist they’d have a field day with this emotional rollercoaster you were on. “I...I don’t want you to think that you’re not worth the money. But...not in a cheap way, like not that you’re cheap, but not like...oh fuck not like I’m buying you or....I mean...shit. Goddammit,” he finally grumbled, standing up and storming over to the bar and pouring himself another bourbon quickly. He took a huge slug of it before pausing, taking a deep breath, and turning back to you. 

“Sorry. I’m not used to having to explain myself,” he said gruffly, but seemingly more in control now. He exhaled and relaxed a bit, then smiled. “What I meant to say is that I am enjoying my time with you. I’m especially enjoying your forthright honesty. Not many people give me that. You don’t have to worry about me not having a great time. This is one of the best conversations I’ve had in a very, very long time, and I want it to continue.”

It was your turn to exhale, your eyes wide as they could go. How the FUCK were you supposed to respond to such a masterful answer? All you could think to blurt out was, “Can I have a bourbon too? Or whatever it is that just made you so eloquent while you were freaking out? Cause I clearly fucking need it.”

Nick suddenly tilted his head back, laughing loudly at that, which made you laugh too. After you both wiped your eyes and settled down a bit, he pointed to the glass in your hand. “You stick with champagne, missy, you’re still working.”

You sighed playfully. “Yes, sir,” you responded deliberately. He froze again for a heartbeat before making his way back to the couch. 

Damn, that was still very interesting.

After he sat down, he turned you to again. “And don’t call yourself dumb again. I don’t like it. Got it?” he said, with that air of authority mixed with...something... you couldn’t name it. 

Shocked that he cared about that, you took a beat before responding. “Okay,” you said, feeling your entire body soften for a moment, before tensing right back up again. 

His secretive smile returned. “Your turn,” he said in his arrogant tone.

“Truth or Dare?” you asked after trying to clear your throat delicately.

“Truth.”

Wanna fu- “What do you do for a living?”

Nick tilted his head, staring right into your eyes, for three solid seconds. Just as you were about to get nervous that you’d once again put your foot in your mouth, he smiled- softly. It was a good look on him. 

“I’m the CEO of a business that handles a lot of high-end imports and exports,” he said, the words falling so seamlessly off his tongue that you knew he’d said them a million times before. “We dabble in all sorts of fields,” he continued in the same breath, his eyes never leaving yours. 

“Wow,” you said breathlessly, realizing that money clearly was not an issue for this man, but having enough tact and filter thank god to not bring it up. “That sounds really cool. So you manage how and where product comes from, pricing, all that kind of stuff?”

Nick smiled mysteriously again. “Tsk, tsk,” he said, before pointing a finger at you. “That’s a second question.” You blushed again, making his grin widen. “Truth or Dare?”

“Truth.”

“How long have you lived in New York City?”

“Nearly three months. Truth or Dare?”

“Truth.”

“So you manage how and where product comes from, pricing, all that kind of stuff?” you asked sweetly. That caused Nick to snort a laugh into his drink. 

“Yes, that’s the basics of how it all works,” he said, chuckling. Your gaze fell on his leather gloves as he brushed away the moisture in his eyes, and you instantly knew your next question. But it was his turn. “Truth or Dare?”

“Truth.”

“What’s your favorite color?”

“Depends on the day and how I’m feeling.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“But it’s the truth.”

“Clever girl.”

“Truth or Dare?”

“Truth.”

“Why are you wearing gloves?”

“Poor circulation. Truth or Dare?”

“Truth.”

"Why did you move to New York?”

“You already asked me that.”

“But you didn’t answer. You freaked out thinking you sounded like a hillbilly, remember?”

Turning red again, you tossed your hair back in an effort to recapture your strong persona out of your embarrassment. “I came here to be a professional dancer.”

Nick nodded in understanding. It wasn’t the first time he’d met a wanna-be performer. New York City was full of them. “So what form of dance is your speciality?” he asked, curious. 

You internally steeled yourself, and put on your own seductive grin. “That’s a second question, sir,” you said, pursing your lips in mock disapproval. Nick tried to hide his smile by pushing his tongue against the inside of his bottom lip, but it didn’t work. He shook his head, grinning. 

“Mea Culpa,” he said pompously, before fixing his deep blue eyes on you again and gesturing for you to continue. Thrilled that you had won that tiny little battle and filled with an inappropriate amount of ego over it, you perked up a bit and asked. 

“Truth or Dare?”

“Truth.”

“What’s YOUR favorite color?”

“Black. Truth or Dare?”

“Truth.”

“What form of dance is your speciality?” he asked, cocking his eyebrows at turning the tables back on you. You giggled- you had a feeling it was coming. Brushing a stray strand of hair out of your eyes, you tilted your head as you thought about it. 

“I don’t really have a speciality. I studied as many styles as I could. Basically any time a new class was offered even remotely near me, I took it. Or studied it online. And I couldn’t get enough, you know?” you said, your eyes beginning to gleam. “Like every new class I took just added gas to the tank, and I needed to know more. There’s always going to be a new style to learn, a new technique to try. And I want...I NEED to know it. I...I just want to dance,” you said quietly, your mind flicking through every recital, every show, every class where you’d felt that secret, magical spark, that insatiable drive. “There’s a lot that’s inside me,” you mused, as if you’d forgotten Nick was even there, so lost in your worship of the art form. “And the only way I know how...well, the best way I know how to get it out...is to dance and let it flow through my body...I have to get it out, otherwise, the terrible beauty of the world inside me would crush me.”

The precious confession hung in the still air and you were loathe to shatter the poignant silence. You felt like you should have felt shame for sharing so much, but you just...didn’t. You wondered why. Nick gently reached over and laid his gloved hand on top of yours. 

“Thank you,” he said so softly you almost missed it. “I...thank you.” He managed to look both stunned and in awe, all at the same time. 

As if the oxygen entered the room again, you inhaled deeply and turned to him. You wanted to apologize for oversharing, but the look in his eyes made you realize that he didn’t want an apology- he honestly treasured your deep response. Swallowing hard, you took a sip of champagne, nearly finishing your second glass. “So...truth?” you asked, recovering your sweet smile. 

His smile widened, and he nodded. “Truth,” he acknowledged, toying with his glass.

“What’s your real name?”

His eyes slid to yours. You could see a million calculations going through his mind, and you saw the moment he decided. “Dare,” he said instead, cocking his eyebrow at you in that damn challenging way again. 

Your mouth opening in a delighted surprise, you scrambled to think of something ‘cool’ to dare him with. Your eyes landed on the mini bar in the room. “I dare you to take a shot of tequila...” you began. His smirk and eye roll before you even finished your sentence peaked your competitiveness. “...without the salt and the lime.” His eyes suddenly stretched wide, surprised, before narrowing playfully at you. 

“Well, let it be known that you fight dirty,” he grumbled with a grin, before heading over to the bar, looking at the contents carefully, plucking out a bottle from behind the counter, pouring himself a shot and downing it in one. You saw the faintest hint of a grimace cross his face before he shut it down with him impassive look, that turned arrogantly smug as he looked at your shocked expression. Tequila was NASTY- how the hell had he done that?!

“So. Truth?” he asked, completely smoothly. All you could do was blink at him. He sauntered back over to you, that power just dripping off him so viscerally that you could feel it in your bones. “What’s YOUR real name?”

And suddenly you knew. This was his game, and had been his game all along. He had trapped you into taking a Dare, knowing there was no way you were going to reveal your name unless he revealed his. Taking your last sip of bravery juice, you stood right up, willing your limbs to stop trembling in your nervousness. 

“Dare,” you said simply, forcing your eyes to meet his and not waver. He jutted his chin forward in his moment of triumph. 

“Dance for me,” he said simply. 

Something inside of you cracked at those words. You had spilled inner secrets and thoughts to this stranger, things you had never vocalized before, and in return, all he wanted was for you to take your clothes off for him. The sting of disappointment and...almost...betrayal? hit your heart. But that was ridiculous. He had never asked you to share- you had done it of your own free will. This was all your own fault. You’d forgotten your place. You were just another stripper in a big city to him. That fucking hurt. And it must have showed on your face. 

Nick held up his hand. “Stop thinking whatever it is you’re thinking,” he commanded after he watched the emotion flicker over your face. “Not like that. Dance for me how YOU want to. Your way,” he said softly. “I want to see that world that you’re so passionate about.” 

You absolutely froze, completely obliterated by the about-face that was happening in your brain. He WANTED, actually WANTED to see you dance your way? “Are you sure?” you asked breathlessly. “You don’t want me to...?” You couldn’t finish, hating yourself the moment the words crossed your lips. He had given you a golden opportunity and you were still so unsure of yourself, still so damn insecure, that you were offering to take your clothes off. 

He shook his head, once. “No. I want you to dance your way. Pick whatever music moves you, and just...dance. I want to see.” He swallowed hard. “Please.” He gently forced the word out, as if he was unused to saying it like this.

“Okay,” you whispered back. A look of relief flickered through his eyes before he swallowed hard and sat back down on the couch. 

“Take your time,” he said smoothly. “Whenever you’re ready.” Was that a touch of...nervousness you heard in his voice? He gestured to the wall behind the bar. You turned to look, and found a very expensive looking sound system installed in the wall. Taking a deep breath yourself, you walked over to it with a confidence you didn’t feel. Your mind raced- what song? And more to the point- what was really going on here?

Was he just being nice? Was he really expecting you to strip despite what he said? For fucks’ sake you were working in a strip club that he apparently came to all the time. He really didn’t mean what he said. Or...was it possible? Was he serious? 

Then it hit you. You might not get this chance ever again. 

Carpe Diem.

You quickly turned the system on, and found it surprisingly user friendly. You typed in one of the songs from one of your favorite musicals- a musical that made you go nearly feral from the dancing the first time you saw it. You unbuckled the straps of the Fuck Me heels, then playfully tossed them out onto the floor. You watched Nick carefully when you did that. His eyes never left you. He didn’t care about the clothes you were discarding, even if they were only shoes. He was watching you. Now or never. Truth AND Dare.

You hit play and stepped to the center of the room.

*Nature Boy from Moulin Rouge the Musical*

The evocative notes from the lone guitar filled the room. You closed your eyes and surrendered to the music, letting the notes and the feeling flow through you, gently stepping back and forth and side to side as the mental image of the guitarist’s strong hands gently plucking the strings called to you. 

There was a boy, a very strange enchanted boy, 

they say he wandered very far, very far, over land and sea

You gave the tiniest plié before going up onto demi-relevé as the hypnotic words came. You’d start with the most classical dance- ballet. You moved as if you were mystical, imagining that you had been visited by the enchanted boy and had been touched by his spirit and adventures. You let your arms flirt with the magic in the air as your legs moved you across the room.

A little shy, and sad of eye, but very wise was he

You used moves similar to a Japanese Nihon Buyo style that you’d observed on the word ‘shy’, ‘sad’, and ‘wise’. The rich Japanese culture of dance had a way with expressing strong emotions that was incomparable to anyone else. 

And then one day, one magic day he passed my way

As you continued to move lithely, caught in the emotions of the ethereal melody, you let your eyes drift to Nick on the words ‘he passed my way’. He was watching you with wide eyes, like a child seeing Wonderland for the first time.

And while we spoke of many things, fools and kings, 

this he said to me

You changed it up, going into a more modern Twyla Tharp style, subtly indicating that upon meeting him, everything else changed too. You moved as the music told you to, rejoicing in the talking, the fools, the kings, and every other word sung. 

The greatest thing you’ll ever learn 

You used wide sweeping movements on these words, trying to give gravity to the deep profound thing you were about to learn. 

Is just to love, and be loved in return.

You stopped moving after the words ‘just to love’, simply looking to the heavens in expectation, letting the next words speak for themselves. They were more powerful than any move you could have made just then. On the last moment of the word ‘return’, you looked down and ever-so-slowly brought you right leg up in passé, your arms in fifth ballet position. Except you didn’t stop- you slowly extended your leg up, until your right foot was pointed at the ceiling, and you casually turned your face to the light to look at it. And then you didn’t move; you held perfectly still. It was the move that was making you famous at the club; it was singularly yours. It had taken you years to perfect it. 

Finally getting to use it YOUR way brought tears to your eyes. 

The greatest thing (the greatest thing) you’ll ever learn (you’ll ever learn)

Is just to love and be loved in return

You held your position until ‘thing’, then let the energy flow through your body once again. Holding a position like that for that long took immense and precise concentration, so you let your muscles loose and let them take you where the music whispered to go as a thank you. On the last word you gracefully stopped, picked up your heels, and gently slung them over your shoulder, turning and slowly walking away as the violin cried out its lonely descant. On the last guitar arpeggio, you stopped and turned your head, locking eyes with your audience of one. The music ended, and you quietly turned back around, anxious and exhilarated. You both stared at each other as if you found the secrets of the stars in the other’s eyes. 

Golden silence. 

Suddenly Nick stood and walked straight over to you. Without breaking eye contact, he slowly pulled the glove off his right hand. His eyes bored into you almost in desperation. When you didn’t break eye contact at all, he gasped quietly, then reached towards your face. 

“Please,” was all he said. You nodded, unable to break the stare. He reverently drew one finger along your cheek, along your jaw until his fingers hovered right over your lips. You had never wanted to be kissed so badly in your life. You silently begged him with every fiber of your being. And he leaned in for a fraction of a second. 

Suddenly, he stepped back and let his hand drop to yours. He picked it up and pressed the back of your fingers to his lips, holding it there a long time as he squeezed his eyes shut. Finally, he stood back up, looking you right in the eyes. “Thank you, Miss Angel,” he said, almost in a worshipful tone. Then without another word, he turned and walked out of the room. 

*************************************************************************

He was breathing hard as he shut the door behind him. He looked to his right and nodded at Fury, who gave him a respectful single nod back. He looked to his left and met the blue eyes of the muscular, well dressed blonde man guarding the other side of the door. He turned to his right with purpose and began moving at his typical fast pace. He heard Steve’s footsteps follow him, like always.

Knowing his way around the club all too well, he walked straight into Natasha’s office. As he barged through the door, Natasha looked up, startled, her hand flying under her desk. He knew she was gripping her concealed gun in her shock, but she relaxed the moment she realized it was him. He didn’t give a rat’s ass about startling her- he wanted something and wanted it now.

“Book her with me for the week,” he said firmly, cutting right to the chase. “Every night. And I want the exact schedule of when she dances for that whole time, too.”

Natasha’s jaw hit the top of her desk. “What? Are you serious?” she asked bluntly. His eyes suddenly blazed metal-melting blue in their fury at the idea of having to wait even longer for what he wanted.

“Did I stutter?” he snarled at her. “Do it. Now. You have two minutes.” Eyes stretched open in shock, Natasha ripped her gaze from his to her computer and began typing as fast as her fingers could fly. 

He turned and looked at Steve, who was wearing his typical stoic look. “She has no idea,” he breathed out, still half caught in his moment of wonder. “She doesn’t know who I am. She doesn’t have a clue.”

Steve’s usually impassive face betrayed a rare moment of incredulity. “You’re kidding,” the muscular man in the impeccable black suit said, looking back at his boss- and best friend- in shock, unable to comprehend the idea. His boss shook his head, that daring grin spreading across his face again. He was about to expound on the thought, but Natasha walked up to him, thrusting a piece of paper into his ungloved hand. 

“Here you go, Mr. Barnes,” she said with corporate formality. “She’s all yours.”

Chapter 4

[animeomegas]

24 HOURS - CHAPTER 2

[Alpha!Reader X Omega!Kiba]

Summary: Having finished your 24 hour cycle with Neji, you were feeling optimistic about this whole drug induced hallucination/trip to the future. Although if yesterday felt a bit like a rollercoaster, today felt like free falling from a plane. GN!Alpha!Reader x Multi

Warnings: Talks of murder, some nudity. Nothing worse than the show, I think. 

(Chapter 2 is finally out!! Woohoo!! Enjoy~ @omeganronpa​)

Word count: 6.4k

Prologue - Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Epilogue

Unfortunately, the peaceful wake up from yesterday (did it even count as yesterday if it was an alternate timeline?) with the slow opening of eyes and returning to consciousness in a bed with the softest bedsheets you could imagine, didn’t want to make another appearance.

No, with this 24-hour cycle, the tone was set immediately when some kind of gremlin child jumped on you, crushing all the air out of your chest and abruptly rocketing you into consciousness.

You let out a little oof sound as you sat up, bedding falling around you. Automatically, you reached under your pillow for a kunai, but you were glad to find yourself empty handed when the face of a small child swam into clear view.

It took a few moments to realise what was happening, brief memories of cuddling with Neji lingering. The phrase you’d heard too many times decided to ring around your head again.

“You will have 24 hours with the seven people you could love the most and who could love you in return. Learn so that you may choose wisely.”

‘Yes, thank you, I’ve got it,’ you snapped inside your head, mentally waving the message away.

“Appa! It’s time to wake up!” the little boy on your lap demanded, little arms crossed seriously.

Belatedly, you realised there was a second child, who immediately started bouncing on your legs, clearly unimpressed by your dazed look. They looked about the same age, five or six years old, probably twins.

Your twins, you realised with a terrifying stomach lurch. Wasn’t that a weird thought?

“Oma told us to come get you,” the little girl said proudly, clearly happy with the responsibility or perhaps she just found glee in assaulting people awake. By the massive grin on her face, you had a sneaking suspicion that it was the second one. You also had a sneaking suspicion that the two familiar red markings on each of the twins’ cheeks gave away which one of your omega friends you were going to be spending the next 24-hour cycle with.

“Alright,” you said, trying to gain your bearings. “Go back to oma, I’ll be through in a moment.”

The twins bounced on you a few more times before running out of the room, shouting something to their not-so-mysterious oma and thankfully leaving you alone to gather your thoughts.

Right. You were in the second 24-hour cycle and along with a partner, you appeared to also have twin pups. That put extra pressure on you not to fuck this up.

Putting the pups to the side for a moment for your own sanity, you focused on the issue at hand: had you really hooked up with Kiba? He wouldn’t have been one of the people you expected to show up in this weird hallucination/trip to the future. Then again, neither had Neji.

Although now you were thinking about it, you could see it. He’d definitely been a feral child, but he’d really mellowed out over the past couple of years, from what you’d been able to see anyway. He’d bulked out, chilled out and he had a cute dog. Maybe himbos with dogs were your type and you just didn’t know it yet.

Theorising over your own romantic type completed, you got up before a second wake up call was sent and donned the dressing gown that was draped over the edge of your side of the bed.

The room itself had an incredibly different vibe to the room you’d fallen asleep in. If Neji preferred traditional minimalism and organisation, Kiba clearly preferred chaos. It was absolutely filled with things, kids’ toys, stacks of boxes, an overflowing wash bin and a large crib in the corner of the room.

Your heart jumped as you realised what you were looking at. Was there a baby?! Would you be expected to tend to the baby and take it through with you? Would forgetting the baby be an immediate red flag that you weren’t who you said you were?

No, stop, deep breaths. You didn’t even know if there was a baby in the crib yet because of the blanket covering the side you could see.

Slowly, you approached the crib, fingers crossed that it was empty. Five-year-old twins you could deal with, but an infant would quickly expose your lack of knowledge over parenting. You peeked over the top and were incredibly relieved to see that the crib was both empty and lacking a base, so presumably not currently in use. Thank kami for that.

Bullet dodged, you went to the door, stopping only for a moment to take a look at yourself in the mirror. You looked about the same age as yesterday’s version of you, but where you and Neji appeared interested in pups but waiting for the right moment, you and Kiba clearly didn’t agree with such methods.

“Appa!” a voice shouted from the other room.

Right, you had to go.

You followed the sound of voices and sizzling pans downstairs, but with each step, dread began to grow in your stomach. The number of voices you were hearing sounded like Kiba plus three others. Did you really have three pups? Already?

No, you figured out as you rounded the corner at the bottom of the stairs. You didn’t have three pups, you had four pups.

The room you had walked into was open plan, with the kitchen, dining table and living room all being visible from where you stood at the bottom of the stairs. The ‘décor’ from the bedroom had been carried through to the rest of the house. There were dog toys and children’s toys mingled into a combined pile from which you couldn’t differentiate which was which, piles of books, even a box of what looked like miscellaneous weapons that appeared to have been placed at the very specific height of ‘the twins can’t reach’.

The boy in the kitchen, perhaps about nine or so, was stirring something on the counter, standing on a little stool so that he could reach. The man beside him was definitely, 100% Kiba, who was tending to a frying pan on the hob.

There was also a girl sitting in the living room, who looked just a tad younger than the boy, head buried in a thick book that she was halfway through. She had a larger than you remembered Akamaru cuddled up on her lap.

And of course, the twins you had met earlier were performing some kind of horrendous duet under the dining room table, a bottle of shampoo and a hairbrush acting as stand in microphones. Despite yours and Kiba’s obvious disregard for contraception, you were at least glad for the foresight not to provide them with real microphones.

You had four pups. Four.

Actually, scratch that, because as Kiba turned towards you, the wolfish grin he was known for on his face, he revealed his massive tummy.

Four and another one on the way… Hence the empty crib, you mind helpfully supplied.

Is this the version of your life where you go crazy from the loneliness and make it your sole goal in life to never be alone ever again?

“Babe,” Kiba grinned at you. He was wearing pyjamas too, like all the kids. At least you fit in. “I didn’t realise you were so wiped out from your mission, you’re normally up way before now!”

Before you could process that and think of a generic reply, Kiba walked towards you in big strides and grabbed your face, slamming his lips against your eagerly.

It was nothing like the comparatively innocent kiss you’d shared with Neji last night, no, this was passionate and fiery, the kind of kiss where no one’s tongue remained where it was supposed to.

The kiss stole all the oxygen from your lungs and all the thoughts from your brain. Kiba was incredibly warm under your touch. In fact, everything was warm. The vibes of the whole house were warm. You decided then and there, with Kiba’s tongue down your throat, that you’d rather had a warm but messy home over your boring, standard issue shinobi flat any day.

When he pulled away, you were left stunned, the only working brain cell you had left was desperately trying to keep you from actively drooling.

“Oma,” the oldest boy interrupted, knocking you back to reality. You looked over and the boy had moved his little stool and was now tending the pan that Kiba had a minute ago. “Breakfast is burning.”

…

You had somehow survived long enough to sit down and eat, even though it had been awkward attempting to find the cutlery draw and challenging to remove the twins (Your twins! How bizarre!) from under the table.

Other than that, though, you had to admire how smoothly Kiba pulled it off. You couldn’t imagine serving four pups breakfast every day was easy, but the twins were happily gobbling up their cereal, the older girl had sandwiches with the crusts cut off and the older boy had the same cooked breakfast that you and Kiba had. (Akamaru had a mix of dog and human food in his bowl which sat at the side of the table, of course.)

It hit you suddenly, amongst the chatter, that you were at a family breakfast. How long had it been since you had one of those?

It hadn’t occurred to you that this 24-hour hallucination/trip to the future could include pups, but in hindsight you should have probably considered it. It wasn’t bad, it was just… more pressure not to screw it up.

Like, you should presumably parent them, but you didn’t really know how. You watched as the twin girl obviously geared up to flick a piece of cereal at her older brother, unsure how to stop it.

“Akemi, eat your cereal, don’t throw it on Minoru,” Kiba said absently, throwing a piece of meat from his plate to Akamaru. Right, the girl twin was called Akemi and the eldest was Minoru. You definitely needed to remember that.

“I wasn’t doing anything!” the girl denied, pointing it at her twin. “It was Kaito! You’re getting us confused.”

“It was not me!” Kaito squawked indignantly. Okay, the male twin was Kaito. You just needed the elder daughter’s name, the one with the book, but she’d brought said book to the table and didn’t seem much interested in joining the conversation. Ah, scratch that, her bookmark had her name on it: Ichika.

So, it was Minoru, Ichika, Akemi and Kaito. Got it.

“I literally watched you, Akemi.”

“Did you though?” she grinned a grin very similar to her oma’s. “Can you prove it?”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you little monster,” he ruffled her hair as she giggled. “Eat your cereal before I donate it to Akamaru.”

You also took Kiba’s advice and turned to your own food. It was different than Neji’s cooking, but definitely not bad. It felt hearty, like the kind of food you’d eat on return from a mission. Neji’s food was traditional and much lighter.

As far as which was better, free food was free food. If someone had lovingly cooked you breakfast, you weren’t going to start ranking it against other breakfasts. That would be rude.

It was only after you’d almost cleared your plate that you noticed that Kiba had barely touched his food and seemed to be playing with it more than anything, cutting it up and pushing it around to create the allusion that he was eating.

Kiba ‘I once challenged Naruto to a ramen eating contest, ate twelve bowls and then threw up in a hedge’ Inuzuka wasn’t eating his breakfast. How strange.

Kiba looked up at that moment and noticed you looking at him. He playfully kicked your foot under the table, clearly well practiced in its exact location, and mouthed ‘morning sickness’ at you. You winced in sympathy, figuring that morning sickness this late in the pregnancy was super unfortunate. He did look a little queasy now that you focused on him and his muscular arms, no that wasn’t helpful brain, stop it, but the second Minoru looked up at him, his grin was back in place as though nothing had ever been wrong.

He was hiding that he was feeling unwell from the pups for some reason. Automatically, you thought that he should get scented by his alpha, something which reduces morning sickness for pregnant omegas, only to belatedly realise that you were his alpha and you would have to be the one to scent him. You blushed red and tried to hide your face by taking a long drink from your glass. Yes, technically you had Kiba’s tongue in your mouth not long ago but scenting just felt a lot more… intimate. You started to imagine it for a moment but quickly had to stop lest an awkward problem arise, and you taint the memory of this delightful family breakfast.

“Appa, how did the baby get in oma’s tummy? Did he eat it?” Kaito suddenly asked, looking up at you with wide, innocent eyes.

Just as you were starting to relax.

“Ah, well, you see,” you started, looking to Kiba for help. Like the arsehole he was, he simply snorted and said nothing. You had no idea what you’d told the pups already. They were only five, so they didn’t need details, but did you lie to pups this age about sex? “There’s a special thing that adult couple can do if they love each other very much, and sometimes that ends up in a baby growing.”

Kaito squinted his eyes at you for a moment.

“Adult things? Like alcohol and kissing?”

“Yes!” you agreed immediately, happy to put this behind you as fast as possible. “Exactly like alcohol and kissing, it’s super gross.”

Kiba lost it, cackling at full volume and setting off everyone at the table, even though most of them didn’t get the joke.

“Super gross,” Kiba agreed. “But only if you do it right.”

“Kiba!”

The rest of breakfast thankfully passed quickly and painlessly. You spent most of your time observing Kiba as that was what you were technically here for after all. He was a very attentive oma, you had to admit. He wiped faces, cracked jokes, cut up food and cleaned up spills, all while heavily pregnant and feeling sick. He had matured a lot from the young man you knew, but his personality was still there, shining brightly underneath the responsible actions. Sometimes it burnt brighter than others, like when he got into a rock, paper, scissors fight with Minoru over the last slice of toast and defeat him with tickles instead of rock, paper, scissors, only to give the last piece to Minoru anyway.

It was so nice to have breakfast with a group of people for once, especially people that loved you.

…

After breakfast, everyone had dressed and the pups had taken off to play outside and make the most of the summer weather, although Minoru had needed a little convincing to leave Kiba to do the chores while pregnant, only leaving when you had double pinkie promised to do most of it.

(“It’s summer!” Kiba had said. “We can handle the cleaning, go have some fun!”)

When the backdoor swung shut behind the last pup, Kiba let out a sigh of relief, immediately leaning against the kitchen counter and bringing a hand to rub his face. His whole demeanour changed completely in an instant.

“Are you alright?” you asked, moving over to him. “Still feeling sick?”

“Yeah,” he sighed. “I can’t wait for this morning sickness thing to fuck off, I can’t believe I’ve had it for like eight months.”

He sent a weak grin that was interrupted by a wince. It hurt to see your friend/mate in pain, so you opened your arms, offering him a hug in the hopes it’d make him feel better. He accepted enthusiastically, and although his bump made things a little difficult, he plastered himself to you as best as he could, nosing at the scent gland on your neck in a way that felt unfamiliar and ticklish, but not unpleasant.

As the nosing got more and more aggressive, you belatedly realised that he needed your scent to calm his nausea and you were just standing there doing nothing. Panicking at the thought of him thinking you were withholding help on purpose, you immediately unleashed a little bit too much of your scent.

Thankfully, Kiba didn’t seem to mind being metaphorically smacked in the face with a wall of your scent. He relaxed against you, still so warm, ridiculously warm in fact. Were all Inuzuka this warm or just Kiba?

“Thanks,” Kiba muttered against you, a powerful purr emitting from his chest as presumably his nausea subsided. “The last three pregnancies were nowhere this bad, but I guess one out of four isn’t bad odds.”

You laughed a little.

“I know some parents who would kill for odds like that, although I don’t know many that make it all the way to four.”

You felt his grin against your neck seconds before his teeth followed. You jumped a little at the affectionate bite.

“It’s annoying trying to hide it too,” Kiba continued after he’d removed his teeth from your flesh. “But Minoru has been so freaked out since he had that sex ed class at school. He’s convinced I’m gonna just drop dead the moment I go into labour, and I don’t want to stress him out more by making him think I’m sick.”

Ah, that was why he’d been hiding it.

“I thought he’d calm down once I explained that Inuzuka are built differently, that we’re safe when we give birth, but he’s still on edge and I think that’s what’s causing his nightmares, too. I just don’t want him to feel responsible for me or worried that my pregnancy is a ticking time bomb that ends in my death, y’know?”

“You really care about them a lot,” you said before your filter could stop you.

Kiba pulled out of your embrace and gave you a weird look. You flushed as you realised what you’d said and rushed to explain yourself. Kiba cut you off with a barking laugh, sounding a little like Akamaru.

“You mean my pups?” he asked playfully. “My pack? I care about them more than anything in this entire world and I’ll kill anyone who ever touches any of you, that’s a promise.”

Maybe you shouldn’t have found his promise of violence so hot, but you definitely did. If he said these sorts of things often, you could understand why you had so many pups now. And you’d spent all evening yesterday cuddling with Neji, so you didn’t even have the ‘lonely’ excuse to justify getting all hot and bothered.

“Ugh,” Kiba groaned, looking around the room and killing the mood immediately. “I know we promised that we’d clean yesterday, but do we have to?”

You snorted despite yourself, something which Kiba too offense to if the growl and the punch on the arm you received was anything to go by.

“Take a look around and you tell me,” you teased him, gesturing to a pile of dog treats that looked like they’d been co opted to play Jenga with.  

“Fine,” he huffed. “But I have to keep stocking the birthing nest, so you can handle in here. Bye!”

“Wha-“

He was already gone before you could protest, his laughter echoing down as he darted up the stairs, too nimbly for someone that pregnant.

You shook your head, amused. Oh well, it would probably be good to have some alone time to clean and sort out your thoughts. A lot had happened over the last two hours after all.

…

About an hour and a half of cleaning later, four pairs of human feet and four dog feet came running back into the house, tracking mud over the thankfully not yet cleaned floor.

“Don’t run in the house,” you half-heartedly chastised, figuring that sounded like something a responsible parent would say.

“My idea is better!” Akemi said, ignoring you completely. “Yours is annoying!”

“No! Pillow fights are way better than lame movies! We watch movies all the time!” Kaito argued back.

They both turned to you simultaneously, fisting onto the bottom of your shirt, one standing on each side.

“Appa!” they both demanded. “Tell her/him my idea is better!”

You blinked at both of them, brain stalling, but you were distracted as you caught Ichika wincing at the shouting and covering her ears with her hands. You frowned in concern. You had noticed that she was a quieter pup that preferred books to people; she was probably at the end of her ‘chaos tether’ after an hour in the garden with the screeching twins.

“Alright,” you said, holding up a hand to stop the twins from making their respective cases for the afternoon entertainment. “Let’s keep the noise down a little, okay?”

Kaito opened his mouth to argue, but Kiba, who had just come to the bottom of the stairs interrupted him.

“There will be no pillow fights or movies right now, because you’re all covered in mud, so it’s bath time.”

“Oma!” they whined, letting go of your shirt and running to him instead. “There’s not that much mud! You’re unfair!”

Kiba only laughed at them.

“Right! You two first then, just for that, go upstairs.”

Minoru rolled his eyes at their actions and went into the kitchen and started cutting up some fruit as a snack before his bath. Ichika was sitting on the armchair now, but she still had her hands over her ears and her eyes shut. You could only imagine the noise that would come from bathing the twins, and you weren’t sure she’d appreciate it, even if the noise was muted and coming from upstairs.

“Babe,” the pet name slipped out without your permission but you pointedly ignored your blush and carried on. “Are you okay to handle bathing the twins alone? I think I need to take Ichika out for some quiet time.”

You watched as Kiba’s eyes dart over to her and his face softened.

“Of course, I can handle the twins,” he agreed. “They’ve got nothing on the kind of terror I was at bath time when I was their age, I’ve got this. Come on you two! March! Bathroom!”

“Can Akamaru come?” Kaito asked.

“No, he won’t fit in with both of you little gremlins, unless you’d rather get hosed down in the garden with Akamaru instead? We can do that.”

You quietly approached Ichika as the protests and arguments over having Akamaru join the twins in the bath continued behind you.

“Let’s go outside for a minute, sweetie,” you whispered, offering a hand that she quickly took.

“What if Akamaru just sat on the toilet, then can he come for bath time?”

You led her out the back door, the debate inside fading away as the door shut behind you. The garden was exactly as you’d expected it to be, a big open grass space for the human and canine pups to run around in, a little paddling pool in the corner, dog and children’s play balls littered around, a hose that was definitely part of the reason for the mud, a climbing frame and a casual seating and BBQ area at the very back. As you took in a deep breath of the Konoha summer air, you imagined the days you must spend out here, cooking food, laughing, maybe Kiba or your team and any of their pups would be there too, splashing around in the paddling pool or playing football.

You imagined all the details. The outfits, the food, the jokes, the little table at the back of the seating area that was definitely for alcohol. It was weirdly emotional to imagine being a part of that. Shino and Hinata would definitely come, as would Naruto, Sai and Sakura, you’d have to drag Sasuke of course, but that would be part of the fun. How many pups would you have between you all? If you and Kiba had five, there would probably be at least 8-10 pups in attendance.

It would be fun. But now, that seating area was going to be used for a different purpose. You led Ichika to one of the sofas and sat her down, sitting down next to her and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. You imagined that she was probably somewhere between lonely from the lack of attention today and also overstimulated, so you decided against speaking and instead just held her to your side. It felt strangely natural considering she was basically a stranger to you, but you had instincts on your side. Regardless of your rational mind, your base line instincts knew she was yours and that you had to protect her and make sure she was okay. You were her appa for the next few hours and it was your job to make the hurt all better.

‘Was she even a real child though?’ you thought suddenly. She felt real under your arm, she breathed, she snuggled into you like a real child, she lowered her hands from her ears as she relaxed, just like a real child. But you hadn’t technically made the decisions that would make her yet and maybe you never would.

You pushed those thoughts down with a shake of your head. It didn’t matter because she was real now, the way she fisted her hand in your shirt  was real and how she purred as you scratched the back of her neck was real. Even if she ceased to exist tomorrow, her pain and comfort mattered because she mattered, existentialism would help no one.

At that moment, she climbed properly onto your lap and buried her little head into your chest, the tiny pup purrs automatically forcing purrs from you in response. This was your pup, your instincts screamed, comfort her, love her.

You still didn’t speak, wanting to wait for her to do so first, but with this new angle, you could stroke her hair. The weight and warmth of her in your lap soothed your frayed instincts, but it wasn’t enough to calm your negative thoughts.

If you didn’t go for this life, you would never see Ichika again, or Minoru or Kaito or Akemi. They would simply cease to exist at some point tonight. Kiba would be there, and maybe he’d find someone else to give him these pups, but it wouldn’t be the same.

Ha, this 24-hour thing was more emotionally draining than you thought it’d be. It was physically draining too, being a parent of four and a partner to someone heavily pregnant. There would be many occasions, if you chose this life, where one child needed special attention at the expense of spending time with the others, just like now. It would be a massive responsibility having this many pups. Could you handle it? If you chose this life, could you be good enough for these pups, because they deserved nothing but the best parent.

Was the ‘full house’ style family even something you wanted? You thought for a minute, and while the version of you a couple of days ago would have probably shied away from such a thing, you could see it now, after living it for a bit. The laughter and the cuddles were constant and there wasn’t a second where your home wasn’t filled with love.

Ichika pulled away from your chest for a moment and looked up at you.

“Appy?”

“Hmm?”

“Can you read me a story tonight please?” she asked, shyly looking down. “Just me?”

You basically melted at her cuteness.

“Of course,” you agreed, despite knowing nothing about evening plans or bedtime routines. “What sort of story?”

“I like the one with the baker and the ninja solving mysteries together, it’s the yellow book on the tall shelf in my room.”

“Okay,” you agreed easily. You didn’t have to worry about choosing your future just yet, you still had more days to live. That was a problem for future you, present you needed to find that yellow book and also make sure Kiba had survived bath time with the terrible twins.

Unfortunately, you never did get to read her that story.

When the baths were done, watching a movie won the most votes for the late afternoon entertainment, so you had settled down as the time ticked on and the sky grew darker and soon it was almost time for bed.

Everyone was packing up the blankets and snack debris from the film when Kaito asked for a glass of water.

“Sure thing,” Kiba said, bopping him on the nose. “Wait here, I’ll get it.”

The room was quiet for a little while until you heard the faint sound of water droplets hitting the floor.

“Babe, can you make a clone to go and fetch my mum?”

“What?” you asked, baffled. He wanted you to get Tsume? You turned around to see Kiba standing in the Kitchen with suspiciously damp pyjama shorts and a puddle on the ground between his legs.

Your mind stalled as you realised what this meant.

“Seems like the baby finally wants to say hello.”

…

You tried desperately to keep a lid on your panic, but it was quickly boiling over despite your best efforts. Kiba was leading you towards a door in your bedroom that you’d previously assumed to be an ensuite, but it was clearly a nesting room.

His mother had just left with all your pups, overnight bags in hand, to look after them while Kiba gave birth. Poor Minoru had had a fit, demanding to stay with Kiba and crying his little heart out. In the end, Tsume had to carry him out of the door as he screamed for you and his oma. You could tell that it had put Kiba on edge, his instincts sending him mixed signals about what he should be focusing on.

So, you were trying not to upset him more by panicking. But, as he opened the door to the nesting room, you realised that you were absolutely panicking.

The nest was nice, very comfortable looking and stocked with all the supplies that you’d need, but it being nice didn’t stop you feeling like an imposter. Kiba was going to be incredibly vulnerable here and he deserved a real mate, not an imposter.

You tried to calm yourself down by remembering that this technically wasn’t real, and if it ever became real, you would be his real mate with actual helpful knowledge and experience. It didn’t help much because it certainly felt real enough to panic about, no matter what your rational mind decided.

Were you going to have to help him literally deliver the pup, you thought suddenly, heart racing.  Kiba had said that Inuzuka pregnancies were different, easier, but how different? How much easier?

You stumbled into the nest after Kiba, just about managing to close the door behind you despite the mess you mind was in.

“Minoru will be fine,” Kiba said suddenly, probably misreading the cause of your panic. “He’s done this twice before and we both know I’ll be okay, and he’s got grandma there with him too.”

He sounded like he was trying to convince himself as much as he was trying to convince you.

“You’re right,” you said, taking a deep breath and sitting beside him. Kiba needed your support here. It wasn’t about you right now.

“Then let’s get started. I want to meet the little monster that’s been beating me up from the inside for almost a year.”

You snorted, panic abating for a second as the stressful atmosphere broke. Kiba was good at that; he could change the atmosphere of a place with only a sentence.

And then Kiba started stripping, pulling off his top and throwing it off into the corner of the nest before starting on the bottoms. Oh, you should have predicted that he’d want to be naked in his birthing nest.

Strangely tough, comparative to how flustered you’d felt when Neji had pulled his shirt off in front of you, even though you only saw his back, it didn’t feel strange. I mean, you had seen Kiba almost naked a few times already, he had almost no shame after all, but the panic and the fact that this nudity was linked to childbirth killed all sexual attraction. He wasn’t there for sex; he was there to give birth and it was only natural that he be naked while he did it.

When he was completely naked, Kiba curled up on his side, breathing deeply. He needed his mate, and for the moment, that was you.

…

“You’re alright, deep breaths,” you cooed at Kiba, spooning him from behind as he winced in pain. His contractions were getting more intense now. The first few hours had mainly been spent feeding him snacks and playing board games, but things were speeding up now. “You’re doing so well, I’m so proud of you.”

“I’m doing this for us, for our family,” Kiba panted, squeezing your hand. “I would do anything for our pack, for you, anything.”

One thing you’d learnt this evening was that Kiba was surprisingly romantic, in his own feral kind of way. You’d also learnt that childbirth was terrifying, but you’d been trying to ignore that fact because it wasn’t helping you focus.

“Anyone who tries to hurt us will be dead,” Kiba promised, a concerning glint in his eyes. “I’ll rip their throat out with my teeth, because I chose you, because my pups are parts of me, no one will hurt them. I won’t allow it!”

You growled appreciatively at his words; they were pulling on all of your possessive instincts.

“You wouldn’t have to, because I’d kill them first.”

“Psh, as if,” Kiba disagreed, flashing his teeth at you. “Me and Akamaru would get there first obvoiusly.”

You decided to let the omega in labour win the debate for the time being. You looked at the clock and saw that it was about 01:30 in the morning. You had no idea when you’d be switching to the next 24-hour cycle because it had happened in your sleep last time. As much as you had enjoyed your day with Kiba, and your various pups, you hoped that you switched soon, before the baby decided it was time to say hello.

You sent a quick mental plea to the mysterious fortune teller, asking that the next partner be a little more chill; you were going to need a serious break after this cycle.

Kiba tugged on your hand, pulling himself and you up into a sitting position.

“You need to give me more attention, I can’t settle,” he said bluntly, staring at you. “You’re being too stiff and don’t think I didn’t notice you still wearing your clothes. Is something wrong?”

Your heart jumped. Of course, you weren’t doing as good a job as his real mate must have done, even though you were technically the same person.

“Sorry, I-“ you struggled to think of an excuse. You picked the first thing you could think of. “I’m just worried about Minoru. I feel like I need to stay clothed so I can run to him at the drop of a hat if I need to.”

Kiba’s eyebrows furrowed in concern and he nodded, he seemed to understand thankfully.

“I get that,” he said, voice surprisingly quiet. “I hated to hear him cry like that and honestly, I was close to letting him stay, but he’s with family, he’s safe and I need to feel you properly. It feels wrong.”

“I’m sorry,” you apologised sincerely. “I didn’t realise.”

“You can apologise by taking off shirt at least.”

You chuckled but agreed to take off your shirt. At this point, you were happy to do anything that could make him feel better, to make up for being a cheap knock off of the person he deserved. It didn’t feel awkward and uncomfortable, not with Kiba.

When your top half was bare, you drew him into an embrace. His skin was even warmer than earlier, and softer than you realised now that he was pressed against you properly. Kiba went limp in your arms, nosing at your scent glands and running his hands all over your back. You shivered as his fingers ran over a particularly sensitive bit. The way he traced your body was intimate and you tried to return the favour.

“That’s better,” Kiba sighed, sounding much more relaxed now. He didn’t say anything else for a while, content to nibble and lick at your neck while you held each other. Every now and then he would pull back and steal a kiss from your lips as well.

You traced little patterns and phrases over his skin, and although Kiba made no move to say the phrases out loud, you knew he was focused on them, because he would bite if you said something nice and bite harder if you said something funny or off topic, like he was playfully chastising you for teasing him.

Kiba was fun, you realised suddenly. He was fun. You had laughed all day, in fact, your cheeks hurt from smiling, wasn’t that weird.

Eventually, the patterns and phrases died down as you got lost in your own thoughts and it was over an hour later that Kiba broke the silence.

“They’re getting super close now, the contractions. Maybe two or so minutes apart. We’re nearly there.”

You were going to have to accept the fact that you may very well have to deliver this baby somehow. Maybe you should ask Kiba to run through exactly what you should do, just in case.

“Kiba, I-“ your words cut off as a blinding pain in your head stole your ability to speak.

You pulled away from Kiba as the pain spread, burning behind your eyes.

“What’s wrong?” Kiba asked. His voice sounded close, but you couldn’t see him. Water, you needed water.

You crawled in the direction of the stash of water bottles, but you didn’t quite make it, collapsing as your arms gave out supporting your weight.

“Alpha?! Alpha?! What’s wrong?! What’s going on?!” Kiba’s voice was warbled and distorted to your ears, but he sounded distressed. You wanted to reassure him, but your tongue wouldn’t cooperate.

You forced your eyes open and were met with Kiba’s worried face hovering over you and a view of the clock. As the clock ticked to 03:00, everything went black.

Next chapter

[random-imagines-blog]

With 2023 coming to an end, here's a list of all of the amazing writers that I had been reading during this year.

@inthedayswhenlandswerefew

I devoured the series 'North to the Future' and I'm currently, right this moment, reading 'When the World is Crashing Down' on my phone, and loving it.

@screamingforstu

'Where You Belong' is a sexual masterpiece, dear LAWD.

@sunkendreams

And speaking of sexual masterpieces, I literally check this blog every single night to see if they've posted anything spicy - and evne if they didn't, sometimes I'll reread my favorites. I'm never disappointed.

@angelsanarchy

Another person whose blog I check just about daily for updates on their amazing series. Definitely worth checking out if you're into Rory Culkin characters.

@winchesterszvonecek

All of their Otis stories are the cutest things that I think I've ever read. Completely sprawled on the bed, feet kicking up behind me, twirling my hair, cuteness.

@avis-writeshq

The 'Sparks Fly' series had my attention tenfold. Loved every chapter.

@hamatoanne

'Teach Me How to Break You' is literally a fantasy.

@bearwriting

I automatically love anyone who writes for American Gods but someone who writes Mad Sweeney HIS damn well deserves the world.

@onegirlmanytales

'The Taste of You' is just AHHHHHHHHH @youvebeenlivingfictional

'The Other Half' series is incredible, absolutely incredible.

@famwhy

Saviour Complex, Saviour Complex, SAVIOUR COMPLEX. Also I'm addicted to 'Right Way Up'.

@toxicanonymity

'Every Inch'. Like - oh my god?

@msookyspooky

The rollercoaster of emotions that their Scream series puts me through - it's almost unparalleled.

There are many more of course, but these are the ones that I've kept coming back to, and I think they all deserve more attention.

[jasmine-green-t]

Art from chapter 11 of Diary of the Deserter: Let the Water Fall! This is going to be the last chapter of this version of the fic. Thank you for riding this rollercoaster with me and I hope you all enjoy!

Now for some boring stuff under the cut:

Hi. In the next few paragraphs, I'm going to discuss my plans to basically rewrite Diary of the Deserter. There are a couple of reasons for this which I will detail, but if you're not interested in that, you can skip this long-winded justification for that choice. If you just want to learn to plan for future chapters, read the last two paragraphs.

This fanfiction is one that I started almost 6 months ago. It was my first fanfiction ever, which sometimes come through in my writing. I started it with no idea of how I would continue it. There were no plans or big ideas I wanted to focus on, and so it made many of the chapters a bit... sub-par? I guess that's the right word.

The first chapter is a good establishing chapter, but it had no vision of what future events would be because I hadn't thought that through yet. Similar things can be said for chapters 2 and 3 as well. Because of that, many of the ideas or themes explored in the chapters become repetitive or stale imo.

Additionally, the work doesn't create interesting character dynamics. I didn't really want to make any of the characters adversarial, so I avoided that, and I had no clear idea on how I wanted to characterise Piandao which made him boring to read about. Overall, the characters were a bit flat.

I'm not saying that the entire work was bad of course, just that I can do better and I want to create a work that is better. I don't think I will be satisfied if I just leave it as is.

I have already made a plan to rewrite these chapters and go beyond what has already been written. On top of that, I will have new, simpler art pieces uploaded to ao3 directly with each chapter release. I'm not sure if I'll announce chapter releases on tumblr because that might get a little bit annoying, but I'll see how I feel when I've published the writing.

When I publish the newer chapters, I will dub the original fic "[First Draft] Diary of the Deserter" to avoid confusion. When the new version catches up with the old one, I might even set the old fic to registered ao3 users only, but again, I'll see how I feel about that when the day comes.

Thank you all for your support and I hope you enjoy what comes next.

[zara-renata]

I LOVEDDDDDDD the latest addition to your sylus universe. i’m growing to adore the reader. i love her personality and her wit and i think the way you interpret her backstory as it relates to her emotional state and the language u use to write her internal monologue is so so good. it’s so engaging to read but also really funny and gives us so many good insights into her feelings. i really do feel so bad for her and the way she’s struggling and i’m able to empathize so much with her bc of the way u write her. it makes her immensely easy to understand and care for her. i saw the warning u gave for the wine chapter and it still HURTTTT when the misunderstanding happened. i could literally feel the way reader was shrinking back into herself and sylus’s mind was whirring with how to address the situation. i wanted to hug her so bad like girl please that’s not what he meant. she spends so much time convincing herself that sylus is just some guy who shows up with petty injuries but i caught how after sylus pulled her closer, she wondered if he was imagining someone else. like she does care so immensely and she’s so guarded it makes me crazy. and then these two idiots make me laugh because instead of talking about their feelings, he’s telling her to change and he’s not listening. i love them, they make me so crazy. and i adore how u pepper in all these moments where we get a peek into zayne or xavier’s mind and how much they worry about the reader.

also i think im getting my chapters/fics mixed up bc im not sure this was in the wine chapter but i really liked the rollercoaster metaphor. it’s so silly and funny and the long explanation of the dangers and pros of a rollercoaster gave us great insight into how reader’s mind worked. i think this was in the piece where she was especially suffering from insomnia. but it was a great way to show in the literal language of the fic how she’s running on fumes and how exhausting her overthinking is. and then!! it’s such a beautiful contrast to the way you write sylus’s dialogue with this delightful push and pull that frustrates but also engages the reader and gets her to think about something else. i adore the displays of tenderness and desire he gives her like the hand on her leg or sharing the wine glass. it’s such a perfect interpretation of the kind of intimacy he would give especially in this part of the relationship where they won’t even openly talk about their feelings. i love how he cares for her and tries to distract her but still puts himself out there as a steady comforting figure who is there for her. it’s so so so perfect and im rambling but i love your writing and your depiction of sylus’s character and i can’t wait to see how this unfolds in future updates (i saw the tag about sylus’s pov and i can’t wait for it to wreck me ahhhh!!!)

thank you so much for this ask, when i saw the wall of text i'm pretty sure my eyes bugged out of my head and it was so fun to read through all of your thoughts!!

i kind of just want to keyboard smash in response, because you're pointing out all of the things that have been so fun and like, cathartic to write, and i'm putting all my love for sylus into writing him in a way that i hope is both true to his canon character and also like, comforting to the reader. i was really worried about how people would receive an mc who has such a distinct personality, and one that is a type that i know grates on a lot of people (reading any reviews of romance novels where mc isn't a super confident completely likeable character can be brutal), so it's so reassuring to hear that you like the way i portray this mc and can sympathize with what they are going through.

and i'm utterly feral for how sylus casually creates intimacy and shows his affection so thoroughly while only rarely speaking directly about how much he cares for mc, i love him SO MUCH, so i'm glad you are experiencing that through how i'm trying to write him!!!

lastly, the perspectives of zayne and xavier, i love them both very much as well, and feel like i have enough of a grasp of their characters to be able to adequately reflect what they might think in response to watching mc be a hot mess.

i'm honestly just, bouncing off the walls from all of your kind thoughts regarding this series, thank you so much again for reading and then sharing them with me.

[starsarefire824]

Heeeeeey just wanted to let you know that it's bc of your writing, I got into writing polycules. Usually, I just read them, but your prose made me wanna venture out and now I'm free (in the writing sense) when it comes to putting my faves in situations lol

Never gonna forget how your fic was the one of the 1st fics, along with other moots, that I ever read in the byler fandom that made me want to get writing for the ship. And I used to have to take breaks when reading your work cuz it amped up a lot of emotions but I couldn't keep away from reading the next chapter

I even reread some just to see if i caught any details missed and to reread my fav parts. It's just great stuff honestly and packs so much in so little words. I'm rambling but that's just me giving credit where credit is due

and once I'm on my actual computer so i can leave comments, i can go way more in depth but yeah, i remember how your fic ruined my summer cuz the emotional rollercoaster never stopped lol

you got a fan in me moot heehee

omgggg LEXXXXX. 😭😭😭

well that's amazing and i'm so excited something i wrote gave you. that little push to explore something! that's amazing. and as you know, i'm always excited for your byclair/madwheeler fics you've been cooking up!!

it makes me so happy and grateful that you'd be effected by my writing enough to inspire you own! And you're such a prolific writer too! Your creativity and ingenuity is so inspiring and just downright fun! You're a force in the fandom and I love you.

You know how I LOVE emotional roller coasters and look forward to providing you many more in the future! <333

[bridja02]

Dedicating yet another blogpost to @cherrynojutsu's Like Gold:

It's been awhile since I've been on Tumblr, wow. The last time I reviewed Like Gold was, oh my god, three years ago?! Time flies.

As I took a break from reading this fic, waiting for more chapters to accumulate, as one does, and also because of life and studying... I decided to reread it last week, as I realized the latest chapter Cherry released was 19! My review was at chapter 6!

And oh boy, what have I missed! I have to admit I feel terrible for not reading for so long! T.T

First things first, I have to compliment Cherry's writing style, and how much it has improved since the last time! As she began the fic in June of 2021, and I'm not saying at all that her writing used to be bad, just that now it's absolute perfection! Here's a visual representation of my feelings while reading the first time:

The same gif used as for the first review - but the feelings were the same this time around too. The first couple of chapters of SasuSaku's blooming relationship was the cutest, from the tenative first kisses to the lingering touches ♥

However, the emotional rollercoaster that ensued after the story progresseed - oh my god. Here's another visual representation, this time showing my emotions just after I finished chapter 19:

(tears because of Sasuke's inner turmoil and trauma, and the blushing because of Sasuke's-😳 )

Once again mentioning my initial review, I SPECULATED the turn that this fic will take with Sasuke's mental health, and oh- the turn was so sudden and sharp that it sent me tumbling down the road. I feel so sorry for the poor boy, he deserves nothing but happiness, and I need him SO BADLY to talk to someone about it.

I knew the fic was going to be a huge slowburn (which was right up my alley) but at some point I thought to myself this has been so sweet and innocent for so long, with their sweet pecks and hugs and lunches and book clubs, will the author really have the means of turning this into something more? I was proven wrong after reading the scene on Sakura's balcony, and wintessing their first makeout sesh. I realized, Cherry will be going places. Had no more doubts after that.

I have no energy to describe anything I felt for the couch scene in chapter 19, as I am not quite done processing what I just read... (The blushing on my cheeks still hasn't passed).🥵

However, I wish to appreaciate the authors ability to indulge on the topics of mental health disorders and character analysis. It's soo hard to read Sasuke struggling like that, and believe me I've read my fair share on SS fics, but I've never seen someone delve this deeply into Sasuke's character and mental state. Cherry I don't know what your major is, but hats off to your skills! You must be really empathetic to be able to write this so well, and I truly admire you for it ♥

I'm so happy to see Sasuke finally trying to do something about it - the jasmine, the old district, his cuts and oh the letters break my heart into million pieces! I can't imagine how Sakura must feel when she finds out what Sasuke has been keeping to himself and suffering silently, even though she urged him never to suffer alone. Oh my, I CAN SMELL THE ANGST COMING. Am I bad person because I can't wait for it?

I love the authors humor, transfering onto Sasuke's witty one and also the other characters. I love the subtle details and descriptions this fic has to offer - from the descriptions of mugs, books they read, the teas they drink. It's too sweet. You can truly feel the authors soul through their work!

The chapter when Sasuke was sick was so lovely, but I have to admit that the bed scene and counting heartbeats has to be the sweetest, lovliest thing I have read in awhile! <3

I am so excited for the future chapters now that so many things unfolded, Sasuke's state has probably never been worse so I really need him to start healing T.T Sakura is so sweet and supprotive, hopefully Sasuke will help her too by urging her to work less. Also excited for the smut.

Thank you so much Cherry for sharing your work with us, I am eternally grateful! I will be looking forward to the future chapters!