#this is based on a dream I had last year that haunts my every waking moment

[okayyeros]

Psychopomp

Sometimes I ask myself who will carry my body to the fields of heaven.

Will it be Archangel Gabriel?

Or will it be Hermes?

Or perhaps,

It’s neither.

Perhaps my body will never reach the fields of asphodel, or jannah.

It was made to rot amongst the plants,

To return the earth from which we all came from.

The white and sterile image of heaven, a color created of all of the primaries,

Birthing an Image so pure

So ineffable,

That we will never understand it.

But it feels like everything we have ever wanted.

The silent yet comforting fields of asphodel

Hades and Persephone watching over me

It is not grand

But it is divine.

It’s not pure,

But it feels so similar to falling asleep as a child,

knowing there is someone is there to keep the nightmares away.

Perhaps when I die,

Hermes and Gabriel will walk hand In hand

To lead my soul to whatever lies beyond

My clay body will melt into the earth

Giving birth to plants, and flowers, and something else

Something that will be around long after us.

I don’t know what it is yet.

But life will live on after my own extinction,

And I know it will be beautiful.

[btsgotjams27]

things you don't know | jjk

summary: it’s been seven years since you last saw the boy that broke your heart. after moving back home, you try everything you can to avoid seeing him around town, but destiny has a wicked way of doing the opposite.

✨ title: things you don't know | one shot ✨ pairing: jungkook x f!reader | ✨ rating: M/17+ ✨ genre/au: angst | ex best friends!au | ✨ word count: 4.3k ✨ warnings: language, drinking, light kisses, miscommunication, reader jokes about unaliving her other best friend, mentions of throwing up ✨ prompt: “i thought i’d never see you again” ✨ a/n: heyoooo. so this is loosely based off a friendship i had in high school and in case you're wondering (irl) i haven't seen this man in over 17 years (oh gawd i'm old). anyway, thank you to @shina913 for being my beta.

✨ mini-series masterlist ✨

You were a fool to believe nothing could tear you and your best friend apart. Just like in the movies you'd watch for hours, you realized you were not the main character; he was. You were only part of the supporting cast, the best friend��not the one he wanted. Someone else had been occupying his mind, his thoughts, and you guessed you weren't privy to know all of him.

You wondered if you became the villain in his story. Were you the other woman? How could you have known if he never told you? He was your best friend. The one you shared everything with–your hopes, dreams, and even the dumbest little details of your life.

And maybe you expected too much. Maybe you had built a world of sunshine and rainbows and believed no storms could ever weather through. Maybe you cared too much, thinking he felt the same.

But at long last, you had become the girl jealous of Josie–the person who took away your best friend.

The city you lived in had grown vastly the last time you were here. Multiple lanes were added to the highways, and fields of land were cleared out for new homes, shops, and restaurants to try. Though the only thing on your mind was not bumping into him.

His was the only face you didn't want to run into in a city that felt familiar and unfamiliar. It felt silly. You're a grown woman with a car and an apartment–had bills to pay, and running into one person shouldn't haunt you as it did.

You might have done some detective work, going through old high school friends lists on Facebook and Instagram, lurking to see if he would show up. But as you suspected, he didn't exist on social media, so your chances of seeing him increased in your weird little mind.

The old hangout places were on your no-go list. Remember, you're trying to avoid him. He has not been on your mind every waking second, minute and hour. You weren't wondering how he was doing or if he was okay. He didn't deserve to occupy your mind, take all your energy.

But if you were to bump into him, you had a monologue ready to tell him how he had fucked up your mind, spiked all your insecurities, and hoped he and his stupid little girlfriend lived unhappily ever after. He deserved that, at least.

"Did you see Lillie's Instagram post? The one where a bunch of them were out celebrating Josie's birthday?" Lana asked, sipping on her iced vanilla latte. Lana was another high school best friend who didn't stomp all over your heart.

And regarding Lillie's post, it was hard not to see it when everyone you knew was tagged. Some things never change, you guessed. The same circle of friends, the same drama, the same gossip, but then again, you were sitting with one of your oldest friends.

"Yeah, I saw it."

And you also noticed how Jungkook wasn't in any photos. After doing your detective research and scouring through the internet. He was a ghost, not even showing up in tagged photos. You were hoping to get a glimpse of him in the background, but you hadn't seen a picture of him in years, so you had no idea if he had grown into that big 'ol nose of his or if he had gotten those piercings and tattoos he's always wanted. There was no trace of this man, not even in Josie's pictures.

Last you heard, they were still together, and you always rolled your eyes hard, remembering what Jeon Jungkook did to you. Didn't even have the fucking balls to say it to your face, but in a letter instead.

You suspected it was all Josie's fault. Probably afraid you'd steal him away, or he'd prefer to hang out with you. And you understood, he wasn't your boyfriend or anything, just a friend. Ex-best friend, that is. So you supposed any girl that did like Jungkook would be intimidated by your friendship.

"Have you seen Jungkook at all?"

Lana knew what went down–dropping you like a fly, like you didn't exist. She had teased you like a madwoman because you were crushing hard on his friend, Jimin, and somehow ended up befriending Jungkook.

"Nope," you said flatly.

"So, you know how we always talk about Jungkook being untraceable? I think I found him," she said, pulling out her phone.

Your jaw clenched before huffing out a breath. Lana liked to poke the bear when it came to Jungkook. You knew it wasn't intentional, and there was a part that held onto those painful memories because you weren't over what he did to you. Countless nights of questions and if you could've done anything to save your friendship. Wondering what you did wrong and why he picked Josie instead of you. You thought he had feelings and just didn’t want to act on it.

Lana slid the phone over, her two fingers zooming in on a brightened photo. "It's definitely Jungkook," she pointed to a figure in the background.

You narrowed your eyes as she moved the photo around. Your heart skipped a beat. You'd recognize that nose anywhere. It was him. He wasn't a ghost. There was actual evidence that he existed.

"I searched for more photos, but nothing else came up."

You chuckled. "Of course not. Jeon Jungkook doesn't exist on social media. It was never his thing anyway. It was always Josie who liked the attention."

"As a couple, they make no sense to me. What does he see in her anyway?" Lana pondered, sucking up the last of her latte.

Josie was popular and pretty and did every extracurricular activity known to man. Jungkook was quite the opposite: introverted, kept to himself, played games day and night, yet somehow they still ended up together.

"I don't know. Maybe she has a great personality or something," you answered.

She had everything and could’ve had anyone in the senior class, and something always bothered you about their relationship. You just couldn’t put your finger on it.

Lana could see your despair and decided to change the subject. "What are you doing tonight? Jimin is having a small party and was super excited when I told him you moved back."

You narrowed your eyes, your lips thinned. "What are we? In high school again?"

"Come on, babe. It'll be just like old times. I'll even pick you up. I know you hate driving."

It's only been a week since you've moved back. You didn't even know where all of your cute clothes were. "I have nothing to wear." It was the best excuse you could come up with at the moment.

"I got you. Don't worry about it!"

Fuck—you should've opted for a different excuse.

"I thought you said this was a small party," you said, wearing a dress that was barely covering your ass. You'd get Lana back for putting you in the tightest dress.

"Trust me, this is small." Lana hooked her arm with yours, dragging you to the kitchen, where Jimin poured several soju bottles and sodas into a pitcher. It was quite the concoction.

“How can he afford this place?” you whispered as you stared at the fancy marbled island and large commercial refrigerator.

Lana shrugged. “I don’t think he lives by himself. Probably has roommates or something.”

"Ladies! You're here!" Jimin squealed, setting down the soju bottle. He hugged Lana before greeting you warmly. "Oh—it's so good to see you!" He wrapped his arms around you, moving you from side to side, digging his chin into your shoulder.

"It's good to see you too, Jimin. You're, um, still quite the host." His parties were all the rage in high school, and now that you look back, you're unsure what you saw in Jimin. He was a good guy, a great dancer, but he partied too much for your taste. Maybe you were shallow and just liked him for his looks.

"I have a reputation to uphold." He wiggled his eyebrows, handing you a shot glass. "I call this little drink 'Soju Sunrise.'" He held his glass, waiting for you to clink it against his.

"Here goes nothing." The glasses clack together, and the mixed liquids go down your throat as smooth as silk. Surprisingly, the cocktail is rather tasty, and you hold out your glass for another round.

"Yes! That's my girl!"

After multiple rounds of Jimin's Soju Sunrise, your body loosened up along with your tongue, being quite the chatterbox to everyone hanging around. The alcohol coursing through your veins made catching up with old friends less dull. Though you wish you could've had a sign plastered to you stating your job, why you were back, and what you've been up to. It would've made your life simpler.

As you exited the bathroom, Lana immediately pulled you into an empty bedroom, closing the door behind her.

"What the fuck, Lana?"

"He's here!" she exclaimed out of breath.

"Who?" Confusion sets on your face.

“He-who-must-not-be-named!”

"Voldemort?" You raised a brow, pouting your lips together.

She struck your head. You scowled, rubbing the spot. Still confused, you think back to the crowded room.

A lightbulb finally goes off. You blame the Soju Sunrise for making you an airhead. "You've got to be kidding me."

"She's here too."

Oh, how you'd rather be clawing your eyes out right now. It would hurt less than facing Jungkook and Josie after all these years.

You had your little monologue prepared and ready to go, but you didn't think you'd have to recite it. Did you even remember what you wanted to say?

You looked around the room and sprinted when you saw a window. Your hands fumbled with the lock, but it was too hard to open.

"What are you doing?" Lana asked, her eyebrows knitted together, watching you struggle.

"I'm gonna climb out the window." It was the only sensible thing to do.

"You're so fucking dramatic."

"It's the only way to avoid them."

Lana grabbed your arms and made you look at her. "You are a grown-ass woman. Put on your big girl panties and walk out that door with your head held high."

"But I don't wanna," you pout. "And I'm wearing granny panties." You lowered your head, staring at your dress, picturing the blush-colored panties with a little bow on the front.

"Granny panties with this dress?"

"What? I couldn't find other ones and I like full coverage." Curse you for not unpacking like you should've been doing.

"Would've been better if you went commando."

"Lana! I have some dignity."

"Do you, though? You won't even leave this room and face the one person who broke your heart."

"Thanks, Lana," you said flatly.

"You're welcome!" she smiled, shaking your body. "Come on. You can do this. I believe in you." You rolled your eyes, staring blankly at her. She scanned you from head to toe, then back up to your chest. "Sweetie, we gotta make sure your tits are stunning." She dragged down the top of the dress, ensuring the swells of your breasts were peeking through.

"Lana, I'm not trying to seduce the guy." Okay—maybe you developed a crush on him, but it's not like you were going to make a move, he had a girlfriend for fuck’s sake.

"Yeah, who cares? We're trying to make Josie jealous."

"This is so high school," you comment, digging through your purse for your lipstick.

"Your point is?" Lana blinked.

You huffed. Okay—fine. If this were the only time you'd see Jeon Jungkook and Kim Josie, then fuck it. You could pretend everything was great for five minutes. Your hand went underneath your dress, tugging off your granny panties and tossing them on the ground.

"Holy shit—going commando too?" Lana squealed and clapped excitedly.

Hiking your dress up just a smidge, you were ready to smile and lie through whatever this dreaded conversation would bring up, probably old feelings of hurt and regret.

You hooked your arm through Lana's, with your shoulders back and head held high. This was it. After all this time, you would face the son-of-a-bitch who broke your heart and the cruel witch who took him away.

You had class—at least, you hoped you did. So, you'd play it cool, be calm and collected. Pretend like you had your shit together.

That is until you turned the corner and immediately spotted them snuggled up in the corner. Josie looked like a lovesick puppy all over him. Jungkook, not so much.

You clutched Lana's arm tighter and came to a halt. You repeated your short monologue in your brain from the bedroom to the living room, but it was as if your mind had wiped everything and your brain's connectors were short-circuiting.

Your eyes glistened as you watched the two. Josie sat on his lap, arms wrapped around his neck, kissing him. Your lower lip quivered, and your stomach sank. You weren't sure if you needed to hurl because of them or because of the soju. Perhaps both.

Jungkook pulled away from her grasp, seemingly annoyed by her show of affection. As soon as he turned away from her, his eyes landed on you.

You flashed a small smile and a wave of your hand. Who knew seeing Jungkook would make you feel the complete opposite of the narrative you had created? In your head, he was a heartless best friend who left you for a wicked witch, but here he was in the flesh and was just that big-nosed, doe-eyed boy whom you shared everything with. You missed him so much and wanted to catch up on life like no time had passed.

Lana turned to you. "Hey, what happened to the bad bitch persona? Aren't you gonna tell him off?"

"I'm so stupid, Lana. I can't do this." So much anger had been building up within the last seven years, but underneath that anger was just a girl who was heartbroken.

Lana nudged you in the ribs. You two watched as he pushed Josie off his lap, causing her to frown. You attempted to let go, but she pulled you in as Jungkook beelined toward you.

"Oh, my god! Jeon Jungkook in the flesh?" Lana said in a dramatic tone. "You do exist! I can't believe it. Well, I'm going to find myself another drink! Have fun catching up with your bestie!" She punched Jungkook's shoulder hard, and he scowled and flinched, massaging the spot.

You pressed your lips together, unsure what to say to him. It's been seven years since you last saw him. Once you graduated from high school, you were out of each other's hair. You were off to college a few hours away, and he stayed in town to attend a local university.

Jungkook cut off all forms of communication. It was like your friendship ceased to exist, which hurt you the most. The last thing you received from him was a measly little letter explaining that he was with Josie and that she didn't want you coming in between their relationship.

You couldn't understand why Jungkook couldn't just talk to you. Josie was never mentioned in conversations, nor did you see him with her, so it felt out of left field. If Jungkook told you he liked someone, you'd never stand in the way of his happiness. You thought he knew you better than that, but maybe you were wrong. Maybe you didn't know each other at all.

"I thought I'd never see you again," Jungkook said, the corners of his mouth curving into a warm smile.

You only paid attention to the glow-up Jungkook had. He did get the lip piercings he wanted, along with the tattoos. You could see them peeking through underneath his gray hoodie hanging off his shoulder. The white tank top defined his taut chest, letting you know he liked to work out. His damp hair curled in all the right places against the nape of his neck and his forehead. The silver chain adorning his neck looked pretty enough to tug on.

"You look great, by the way," Jungkook added, breaking you out of your daze.

"Oh, thanks. So do you." You manage to squeak out finally; then you remember how provocative you looked in your dress compared to sweet, innocent, looking Josie in her pink floral sundress, who was making their way toward you.

"Jungkook, can we please get a drink?" Josie whined, giving you the once over before latching onto Jungkook like the leech she was.

"You remember—"

Josie interrupted, "Yeah–don't remind me. Can we go?"

Josie stormed off toward the kitchen, leaving you and Jungkook behind. Did he have any say in their relationship, or did she tug him around like a puppy on a short leash?

You're stunned but not surprised by her remark. Once a bitch, always a bitch.

Turning your attention back to him, you realize you have nothing to say. The scars from this friendship were carved deeply into your heart; not even the monologue you rehearsed could dissipate the pain he caused.

"I—I gotta go," you said, taking off toward the bedroom because you couldn't fucking leave your underwear on a random stranger's floor. You had to save whatever dignity you had left.

"Wait—" He tried to grab your attention and followed you, walking through the hallway toward a room. He watched you go from one end of the room to the other, searching for something. "What are you doing in my room?"

You straighten your posture, slowly turning to him. "This is your room?"

"Yeah, Jimin and I share this place along with another friend.”

Oh, now you were going to fucking kill Lana. She knew. She must have! That's why she wanted to bring you here. And out of all the rooms, you had to pick Jeon Jungkook’s to leave your underwear in?

"Great," you said in exasperation. You turned back around in search of your panties. "Where the fuck is it?" It could only be in so many places.

"Where's what?"

You got down on your hands and knees, tugging your dress down, looking underneath the bed for your granny panties. "Nothing," you grumbled. "Fuck it. Forget it." You stood, walking past Jungkook. He could have your underwear as a keepsake, you suppose.

"Hey—" He gripped your arm. "Come on. This is how you greet me after all this time?"

You scoffed, glaring at him. "You're fucking kidding me, right? You're lucky I'm even speaking to you. You don't even deserve that."

He lets go of your arm. "We kind of ended on a sour note, but it wasn't my fault."

He couldn't see it, but smoke was fuming from your ears, and you wished your death glare could burn through him and maybe even through Josie. How fucking dare he put all the blame on you? And for what exactly? You might add that you did nothing but be his friend, and he ghosted you like you meant nothing to him.

"So it's my fault?" You assumed he was placing the blame on you. "How is it my fault? Please enlighten me, Jungkook."

He quieted down, cowering his head.

"You showed up holding hands with Josie, then proceeded to not talk to me like a human being and instead wrote me a fucking letter like the coward you are. A letter, for fucks sake. You could've had the common decency to say it to my face."

You walked out of language class, and there they were, hand in hand as you idly watched from behind. And he didn’t even hand you the letter. He had stuffed it in your locker.

Your words took him aback. His recount of how everything went down was different from yours. "I'm sorry," he said. His eyes flicked to yours before looking away.

"Well, it's too fucking late for apologies."

Jungkook called out to you, and you didn't look back, storming away from him. You passed by Lana, telling her you were leaving and that you'd talk to her later.

You ran out the front door, stopping at the sidewalk's edge, remembering that Lana drove. "Fuck," you grumbled, pulling out your phone to grab an Uber.

You were stupid to think Jeon Jungkook wouldn't affect you after all these years. Maybe it's because you haven't dealt with feeling abandoned by him. Maybe you wished you did more for your friendship. Whatever the reason, you knew moving back wasn't a good idea because you’d have to deal with this.

"Hey!" Jungkook called out. You looked over your shoulder and continued walking. He ran in front of you to grab your attention. "Can you talk to me?" he asked, stuffing his hands in the pocket of his hoodie.

"Why don't you fucking write me a letter? Since you're so good at that," you mocked as you shuffled around him. He was a shitty writer who could barely pass Creative Writing without your help.

"That's not fair."

You scoffed, stopping in your tracks to turn back to him. "Run back to your little girlfriend. Don’t you have to get her approval first before talking to me?"

"She's not my girlfriend."

You tut. "Yeah–okay." That was hard to believe, considering she was all over him.

"She's not. We haven't been together for a while now," Jungkook explained.

"You looked pretty cozy earlier."

Jungkook looks at the ground, kicking around an invisible rock. "It's complicated."

"That's great, Jungkook, but I really don't want to hear about your relationship problems. Good luck with Josie and in life. You two deserve each other." You pulled out your phone to see if the Uber was arriving.

Crossing your arms, you walked back toward Jimin's place. You wish you pinned the pick-up location somewhere else, but you'd have to endure his presence longer.

Jungkook followed, giving you some space, stopping when you did. His eyes raked over you. His dimple appeared and disappeared as he licked his lips and chewed on the inside of his cheek.

"When you got your acceptance letter to college, and you decided you were leaving, you didn't bother to ask about what I thought," he said, hands still in his pocket, staring at the ground. Your eyes flickered to him before looking away. He softly chuckled, "I thought to myself, what would I do without my best friend? I had nothing going for me, didn't even know what I wanted to do—still don't know what I want to do. And as much as you make me out to be the bad guy in your story, there are a lot of things you don't know."

You turned away from him as your eyes began to well up. You didn't want to cry before him, rehashing things from so long ago. You let out a shaky breath, trying to contain your emotions.

"Why didn't you say anything?" you asked, using the back of your hand to wipe away the snot threatening to fall.

He shrugged. "I don't know. I would never want to keep you from something that made you happy," he admitted.

You were always open with each other, so you're unsure why this one thing made it seem like he couldn't be honest with you.

"Tell me one thing."

Jungkook hummed.

"Why didn't you tell me about Josie?" It was the one question that lingered since you received his letter.

His lips thinned. "Honestly?" You nodded. "It all happened so quickly. Jimin was throwing a party that night when you told me about going off to college, and I was in my head, overthinking everything. And Josie was there, being sweet and comforting me, and I don't know what came over me. I just kissed her to make myself feel better. Then, the next day at school, she took my hand and told everyone we were together."

"So, let me get this straight? I told you I'm going off to college. You get upset, kiss Josie because you were mad about me leaving, and then end up in a relationship with her?"

"Well, when you put it that way, it sounds ridiculous."

You turned to him, hitting him across the chest several times. He held his hands up to block you. "Because Jeon Jungkook, it is ridiculous! God–you're such—a—" you groaned. "Do you know how much you hurt me? We could've avoided all this if you had just talked to me. Life could've been different for us. You could've come with me, and then we could've been together."

"Together?" He stared at you with his starry brown eyes.

"Yes, you dummy! I liked you, if you couldn't tell. I was going to tell you, but then you and Josie happened, and well, you know how the rest of the story goes."

You closed your eyes and let out a long-awaited breath. It felt like a weight was lifted off your shoulders, getting all this out in the open. You weren't expecting Jungkook to do anything to make you feel better, but at least he could hear what you wanted to say after all these years.

Your uber pulled up and you opened the door, holding onto it as you looked at Jungkook. A glimpse of the boy you once knew still lingered in his eyes. If you could go back and do it all over again, you would've fought harder for him, fought for what the two of you had. It was too precious of a friendship to let go just like that. Unfortunately, life didn't work that way.

There were no forms of time travel or alternate dimensions where the two of you could've lived happily ever after, and there were only the choices you made here and now.

"Bye, Jungkook."

✨ read part two | read part three ✨

[hepbaestus]

✨My fics - a masterlist✨

Here's where all my fics go in order of publishing with a little detail about each fic, the blurb and accompanying credited fanart.

Hep's Hideduo Stardew Valley AU Masterlist

Hideduo Kiss Week Event Masterlist

Hep's Familial Souls AU Masterlist

don't just count your years make them count (nenê feliz aniversário!!!) - 09/03/23

4.5k words|family fluff|no TW's apply|tumblr link|

A parent struggling to find a gift for his son, only to be saved by his son's chosen sister. The eldest children's birthday party happens and Pac didn't think that Ramón could get any cuter. How wrong he was. A story of how family helps one another and can look like something that you never thought you could have.

Accompanying fan art by Shen ❤️

What a Monster he'd become - 12/03/24

1.1k words|angst with a hopeful ending|TW's do apply|tumblr link|

TW: cannibalism

Vacuus Island, an abandoned Federation Island. Fit's left in the ravine by Madagio with the rotting corpses of the workers that had worked here previously. Fit doesn't have a fun time down there, resorting to things that he hoped Pac wouldn't hold against him when. If he returned.

to be loved is to be changed - 25/03/24

2.1k words|family fluff|no TW's apply|tumblr link|

Based off a prompt by Pen

As you love, you change too. Ramón goes through that process of changing because of the love he's received since Pac became his Pai, so much so that his physical appearance is altered by it. This is Fit and Pac's reactions to that.

Accompanying fan art by Mooney 🩶 and mini-comic by Shen ❤️

love is the longing for the half of ourselves that we have lost - 30/03/24

2.6k words|angst with a happy ending|TW's apply|tumblr link|

TW: mild blood

Fit goes missing after having completed Madagio's mission, and with the children all put into a medicated sleep, Pac has no one. It isn't until he realises that Fit's been gone for too long that he begins to truly panic and sets out on a search for the Dread Bow. On the search for the underground cabins, he sees a burst of light and thinks it's Fit. It isn't him. It would never be Fit. Until it is.

count your age by friends, not years. count your life by smiles, not tears - 03/04/24

2.4k words|sad with happy ending|TW's apply|tumblr link|

TW: Blood and injury

It's Ramón's first birthday and his dad isn't there but Pac is.

You can't recover memories of a missing event - 21/04/24

0.4k words|hurt/no comfort|no TW's apply|tumblr link|

Based off this series of posts

Without realising, Pac's missed a lot of events in his boyfriend and kid's lives. Their first birthdays, his second date with Fit, seeing Fit's face as he realises that Richarlyson called him dad. This is him having that realisation.

I was performing my ritual of sipping tea, shooting flirtatious glances and planning murder - 21/05/24

2.3k words|purgatory angst with sad ending|TW's apply|tumblr link|

TW: Blood and Violence,Body Horror,Character Death

Fit had not been able to think of anything else other than Pac's betrayal two days prior. This is his revenge. Exactly what he thinks Pac deserves.

Waking Up - 25/05/24

0.9k words|it was all a dream au|TW's apply|tumblr link|

TW: Mentioned character death, off-hand mention of starvation

It was a normal day on the island, Fit was with his family.

Until he wasn't. Until it wasn't.

Fireflies (The day is over. It's time for rest. Sleep well, my dear. You did your best). - 02/07/24

1.7k words|family fluff stargazing|no TW's apply|tumblr link

Rosa's first night in the family and it doesn't quite go to plan at first but with the stars in the sky and family surrounding her, all will be well.

What was I made for? - 08/07/24

2.8k words| sad ending| TW's apply|tumblr link

TW: Experimentation on children

He could never escape the sterile quartz that the Federation used in every building. It would haunt his nightmares, both waking and not. A deeper look into Ramón's first and last day on Quesadilla Island, from his perspective.

[writesick-lover]

Please don't leave

D'Artagnan x fem!reader

⤞ My masterlist ⤝

A/N: Hiii, so yeah, this is basically my first post of a one-shot I wrote like a year ago but I am still proud of it to this day. At first it was written based on D'Artagnan from the movie The Three Musketeers but later on I realised that it works perfectly with the one from the series as well so you got both of them here haha. I also decided to leave this in a 3rd pov despite reader's involvement in this story. Anyway, please enjoy and let me know how you like it ;D

Warning: none it's just fluff

Summary: D'Artagnan and his wife wake up to another morning in their bed until they realise the daunting truth of what is to come.

♦️ ♦️ ♦️ ♦️

Another cold morning had hit the residents of Paris. The early busy streets were haunted by a mysterious fog and the warm breaths of people talking with each other in hopes of buying something for what little they had. Amongst the civilians, a bunch of feathered hats moved around. The musketeers, the pride and joy of the King's army, were up early and ready to protect their country and their King. All of them but one.

She pulled her bedsheets up, trying to hide from the merciless cold that had crept into her usually warm bedroom. She could use the feeling of his body to fight the cold but found no strength to search for his touch as her place in the bed was partially warmed up by her. As if her thoughts called him, his arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her closer to his chest. It felt just like the usual morning they were to spend together. Except it wasn't. 

The reality hit her like a wild horse and broke all of her dreams of a lovely morning into pieces. "Charles," she croaked. There was no response but she knew he was up, he was a light sleeper, his profession made him to be one. "Charles," she tried again. A sound returned to her voice and finally hit his ears as he snuggled closer to the crook of her neck. 

"Oui, mon ange?" he mumbled against her skin, placing a small kiss. It was prickling like a needle as she slowly realized it might have been one of the last kisses she was to receive from him. 

"You have to go," her voice shook and she gulped, to swallow the lump in her throat caused by the urge to cry. 

He groaned, realizing the truth as well, but choosing to ignore it in favor of more cuddles. "No, we still have time."

She sighed as she glanced at the clock, "No, we don't, the musketeers will be here any minute." She started wiggling, trying to break free from his grip that only tightened, making her break a smile whilst she kept on trying. "I have to prepare you a bath. And get your clothes," 

"No, you don't, I can do it later," he muttered sleepily, pulling her as close as physically possible. 

"I do, or you'll have to go through the embarrassment of being dragged out of the bed naked by one of your brothers in arms," she giggled, hitting his hand which had proven to be the right method to make him let go. 

"Please don't leave," he begged, setting off a tear down her cheek. However, it quickly dried as she gasped when the freezing air hit her skin, biting into every inch of her naked body. 

She quickly dressed herself, and he, unbeknownst to her, was watching her with adoration. All of her motions, the way she tied her hair into a ponytail with a black tie, creating a small bowtie at the top. How she quickly put on her underwear to fight of the spreading goosebumps on her skin, small almost inaudible gasps escaping her lips with each movement. The way she perfectly slipped into the black dress he gave her last winter, the one she wore every time he had to leave her. And after all those times, he learned to despise the dress, wishing he never had given it to her. Wishing she never had to put it on, on another of those mornings.

As she left the room, it was as if a symphony he didn't even realise was enveloping his entire world came to a halt. But then her voice rang across the house and he found himself fighting the cold outside their bed just to get to her. As he washed, she made sure everything was ready for him. She always did. She didn't even forget the small package of food for the way, no matter how many times he had told her that Porthos would bring something. And every time, he made sure to eat everything she packed for him instead of what Porthos had brought. 

He was drying himself up when he noticed the unusual silence coming from his significant other. "Why so silent, amour?"  

"Just a lot of thoughts," she shrugged, forcing a smile onto her lips, even though her eyes glistened with tears. 

His posture softened under her teary gaze, but it didn't stop him from his usual habits. "You don't have to mourn, you know I will be back," he grinned arrogantly, letting out his boyish attitude to reduce her worries. But it was very like him to laugh in the face of Death and then escape, no matter how carelessly he threads the line between life and death. She smiled honestly this time, a small giggle escaping her lips and he wished he could trap it in a jar and take it with him. She opened her mouth to retort back but was interrupted by a sharp knock on the door. 

"D'Artagnan, you better not be sleeping or I will break this door down and drag your ass out whether it's naked or not! Athos is already waiting for us on the academy grounds." Aramis' voice roared from the outside. Her eyebrow lifted, glancing at D'Artagnan who was half naked with a towel in his hands. "I suppose you are at the risk of a major embarrassment." 

"I'm not if my love makes sure to hold them up for me," he smirked devilishly as she rolled her eyes, already heading for the door.  "Sometimes I wish to not do as you say and witness the actual threat getting fulfilled, I think I'd find it more than hilarious," she yelled at him in the middle of her tracks, a mischievous smile, he could see in his mind, painting her lips. "You wouldn't do me that dirty, you love me too much for something like that," he managed to answer while frantically trying to put on his pants.

"Do I really?" she teased, grabbing the door knob and twisting it.

"Hello, gentlemen," she smiled brightly at the two musketeers in front of her. They bowed their heads while holding their hats in an elegant matter, both smiling at her, Aramis appearing to be more joyful than any other time. "My lady." 

"Definitely not yours!" D'Artagnan's voice thundered from the other room. 

"She will be if you don't come out ready this instant!" Aramis snapped back, throwing a bold wink at the lady of the house. She could only roll her eyes at the cheesy gesture as she leaned on the door frame, preventing the two men from entering any further. She smiled politely. "You will have to forgive me, but I oppose to that idea, unfortunately," 

Aramis grabbed her hand and placed his lips on top of it. "Oh, what a shame, my gorgeous lady,"  he sighed after holding it for longer than appropriate, only making her chuckle. 

"Fortunately!" Charles yelled out again. 

"Mon amour, I cannot hold them much longer. Aramis is gonna be all over me if you don't get here soon," a smirk on her face met Aramis' similair one in front of her as Charles D'Artagnan appeared from behind her, accompanied by a loud crash. 

He puffed out his chest after his 'graceful' entrance. "Weren't you the one who taught me not to profane the lady?" he send daggers Aramis' way, towering over the two of his friends, "And here you are, dragging my wife into whatever is going on in that head of yours. I think this matter cannot be resolved any other way than a proper fight upon our return," her eyes widened upon the words of her husband as she noticed the challenging sparks in the musketeers' eyes.

"In no way are you fighting after your return. I will be more than thankful to have you come in one piece after those few weeks so don't you even think about getting yourself killed the very next day," she turned around to fix his shirt and coat that was visibly put on in a hurry. However, she did not fail to handle his clothes with rough tugs, a heat rising in his chest from the warning fire in her eyes. "And you better not let him do anything stupid, I know he will try anyways," she turned around again, eyeing the other musketeers who bowed again under the urging flames.

"At your service, my lady," they smirked in Charles' face and set off running  when he gave chase and chased them all the way to the front yard and to where the horses were already prepared to set off. She followed them, walking to the front yard slowly with a soft laugh but quieted the second she saw them by the horses. D'Artagnan was still with his feet on the ground and waiting for her with a glint in his eyes. Oh, how she was going to miss his dark loving eyes only ever laid on her and the warmth of his body on all of those winter mornings. Oh, how he was going to miss the sweet, sweet smile of hers and the way her voice sounded between the walls of their house. How he was never looking forward to the deafening silence around him without her presence, despite Porthos' mouth never shutting up during the missions. It was a list of unspoken vows they never told to each other out loud but they could always feel it, the way the world stopped at that very moment. 

And without any wait, when she was within his reach, he pulled her into a bittersweet kiss, sending thousands of painful but sweet needles down their lips as both of them knew this may be their last. It was long, full of longing and pain, but mesmerising enough to deafen Aramis' scoff in the back. "Please don't leave," she begged after their lips finally parted, her forehead resting on his. She begged again after he hopped on his horse and again right before they departed. "You know I will come back," he reassured her. And yet, she kept on begging in silence, hoping that he would keep true to his word again just as he did up until now.

♦️ ♦️ ♦️ ♦️

[a-dream-bookmark]

a dream bookmark presents: SEP 2023

angst (noun)

a feeling of deep anxiety or dread, typically an unfocused one about the human condition or the state of the world in general.

Welcome to An Angst Bookmark, our September 2023 recommendations list with a theme around angst fics. From the start of the month, we have compiled a list of fics the community has given and prepared to give to you. We would like to provide our biggest appreciation to the people contributing to the making of this list. Thank you so much and we will announce the theme for October 2023 soon!

Do you want to know more about us? Check this out!

The list is below the cut!

MEMBER'S RECS

ATEEZ

|| arrow in the dark series by @tenelkadjowrites | requested by @writingmochi

This fic has dark/mature themes

Pairing: seonghwa x reader

Genre: wealthy seonghwa. fem pronouns for reader. fake dating trope. depictions of emotionally manipulative parents

Synopsis: Your quiet life of working at a convenience store is upended when ultra wealthy Seonghwa convinces you to pretend to be his girlfriend for one night in order to fool his parents.

What they said about the fic: this is not even considered as an angst fic but the way it captured it so well, especially the dynamics between each characters and how in each significant scene there is always another layer to be peeled before that ending. i swear to god that ending!!!

TXT

|| Mune ga hachikire-sōde by @it-rains-blue | requested by @writingmochi

Pairing: soobin x reader

Genre: event drabble, fluff, sickening angst, humour

What they said about the fic: i gotta have to mentioned this one cause it's based on one of my fav songs of all time! bro, even thinking of it just… ughhhhhhh

ENHYPEN

|| your dog loves you by @orochxi | requested by @writingmochi

Pairing: Yang Jungwon x fem!reader

Genre: Coming-of-age, hurt/comfort, melancholia, human drama

Synopsis: Jungwon goes on an arduous hike on top of a mountainous terrain by his university every morning, gently tugging the leash of an old, dumb Borzoi that he calls his. If he were to recall the past nineteen years of his life, then nothing has drastically changed between the path that he and Berlioz walked together and the hallmarks of his youth. Perhaps, as he celebrated his last walk with Berlioz as a teenager, things might be slightly different when he wakes up tomorrow.

What they said about the fic: oh god… i still remember how hard i cry to this one. gosh, even the concept of male grief is so rarely been done. and even relating this to human-pet relationship… this is just so… this fic is making me think of so many profound things even with a mundane subject...

COMMUNITY'S RECS

THE BOYZ

|| beast in a beauty series by @winterchimez | requested by Anonymous

This fic has dark/mature themes

Pairing: profiler Hyunjae x detective f!reader 

Genre: jack the ripper au, angst, violence, thriller, crime

Synopsis: Set in the year 1911 in the streets of Whitechapel, London, a place infamous for its notorious Jack The Ripper murders that haunted the nation for the past decades. Except for the fact that the killer after seemingly disappearing for a while at least, decides to strike again. It is up to you as a rookie detective, the handsome yet charming profiler Lee Hyunjae, and your group of friends to finally put the killer behind bars once and for all.

|| read your mind by @winterchimez | requested by Anonymous

This fic has dark/mature themes

Pairing: fwb Hyunjae x f!reader 

Genre: angst, suggestive

Synopsis: both you and Hyunjae had a mutual agreement to begin this whole friends-with-benefits relationship from the start, but now his contradicting actions and behaviour make you question what you both truly are at this point

Navigation | Collections

[karisohara]

part 5: the gambler

It’s been a while since I graced this space. I came here to write of grief, and found myself in the proceeding months to be swallowed by capitalism and the day to day worries it decided to impose on me. For a few months I was happy, excited for the future and in the early stages of a romance which felt exciting and a little alien. Throughout my last encounter here, slogans of ‘fuck the tories’ echo, and the start of a genocide which rocks the world’s stability. Etonians are a wider piece connected to a dying economic system, a Ponzi scheme for the 1% and they have selfishly stolen the family silver. New masters in the east are sharpening their knives, and children die in the open concentration camp that is the Gaza Strip.

Today I wake up, newly single, with a relationship that too, was swallowed by economics. He was not necessarily my type, but to me I saw kindness in his heart and in this world of chaos I believe that to be an important trait. He romanced by giving me the nickname ‘worldie’, but he wasn’t ready to be with and part of the world. To be a club promoter in this economy is to be a gambler. The strain of the gamble cost my relationship. The timing of which, I look to the stars, ‘I thought this was going to be MY time?’. I have questioned this daily for over a month now. I grow concerned for being a Virgo rising, Libra sun and Aries moon, with a Scorpio stellium born in the 80’s, having my nodal return, and being at the mercy of the universe ‘fuck - does this mean I’m fucked forever?!’, I hope not. I pray for grace to manifest what I want. The year isn’t out yet, but I would like the universe to stop teasing me with ‘what ifs’. Him and I are friends, and maybe that is the purist love you can have.

I find myself thinking daily about how economics and sex is inherently linked. That Willhelm Reich was correct, The Sexual Revolution, and the sexual repression of the masses through religion has allowed fascists to take stand. Neoliberalism and its love for the individual has meant community is scarce, and connection is harder to find. Reichs teachings manifest in the neuroticism of Swifties. I believe Taylor Swifts audience are the mothers and daughters of purity ring culture. Speaking of Swift, she is impossible to get away from. The third space of the internet is her domain now. I was DJing a minimal house set in a Soho bar, only for a woman to request Swift’s music. ‘I’m sorry, this isn’t really that kinda place’, I laughed. I turned and mouthed to the bar staff ‘what the fuck?’. Her fan base is a fever dream to me. Her music plays in every barre class I attend, and now her songs haunt me. An old flame, a yearning, for a friend. Perhaps I understand her a little considering the subject matter, and that I now feel vindicated for not throwing myself at Casanova when I had the chance. A brief encounter of many moments, which ended with us both standing in the rain, soaked and a cab ride. Chemistry but no action, gossip but no result, and a wish to have a taste, just once.

Saturday 27th April 2024

[cfdew]

[Propo] What happened to your daughter, Rose?

She looks haggard. Dark bags under her eyes. Her hair both dull and messy as it was pulled into a ponytail at the base of her neck. She hasn't slept in days, not for more than half an hour at a time, always yanked from her fitful sleep by the resounding sound of a gunshot echoing, by Annie's screams, by the image of blood. It haunts her, even as she stands in the room, in front of the camera. She'd shrugged those off who'd tried to do something to mask the bags under her eyes, or to brush her hair. She didn't want to be here. What was the use anymore?

Her want to get away, to run off and hide under blankets, behind a closed door, in the strong hold of Tiberius is only amplified when the person behind the camera's voice reaches her ears. She stares at the camera, the little blinking read light just above the camera and she blinks. Her eyes sting and she blinks again, looks away from the camera, clenches her eyes shut, makes to turn to leave, to run away. Fight or flight taking over.

There's so much she needs to do. She needs to get her daughter. Make arrangements. She needs to lay her daughter to rest, send her out to the same ocean she'd been washed in before Rose had even known home. She needed to do so much... but she's greeted by the hard greyness of the world she's run too and is thrown back to reality. There is no escape. There will be no cremation. No ceremony. Would Rosmarinus ever know peace, or would her soul be tortured forevermore? There'd been a time when she'd found her father's beliefs silly, joked around with Nixie about the ghosts in the sea, goofed off. But, she'd found comfort in those same rituals when their father had passed a handful of years before. And now, now she yearned for the familiarity of it all when everything now was so strange and her heart ached and cried out within her chest for her daughter.

Natalia feels the tears falling down her cheeks before she finally finds her voice. "They killed her." Her voice is little more than a whisper as she speaks flatly. She closes her eyes again against the sting of salty tears. "It's my fault," Tiberius has shut her down so many times over the last several days, but he isn't here now to negate the thoughts that haunted her every waking moment. "I dared to dream of a world where we didn't murder children for fun." Her eyes are still closed. She's picking at the cuticle of her right hand, an anxious habit that'd resulted in the area being red and bloody in recent days. She doesn't want to confront reality, wants to get lost in her own mind, to float away. But she can't. No she's struck here with the guilt eating away at her.

"I dared to share those thoughts in privacy," but now she knew that not even the private residence of those Snow supposedly trusted were truly private, "and for that transgression Snow had her ki-." Her voice cracks and she stops, hands moving to press palms into her eyes, wiping tears away and rubbing up to her forehead. "He killed her." She chokes out. She needs to leave, to get out of here, away from this camera, away from being forced to relive that moment over again and again behind closed lids. She doesn't ask or hesitate this time as she turns away from the camera and leaves. She doesn't care to stop, doesn't care if she makes Coin or anyone else mad for leaving abruptly. She didn't want to be there anyway and that fact had only been amplified when they'd asked about her daughter.

[sapphic-woes]

Sevika x Fem!Reader x Vi - The Knight, the Witch, and the Dane pt. 1

A/N: Don't ask me why;; I can't tell you. Here you are a saxon turned dane and a seer, working for your lord Vi...but you have a past :) (this is based off of season 3 of tlk)

Word Count: 2.5k. AO3 link

_________________

“You're perfect, Sev.” You whispered, planting a seed of hope in her. “No matter what your parents say.” 

In your own father’s meadow, the both of you lay, staring up at the clear blue sky. Sevika turned to look at you, and she thought to herself that the sun couldn't compare to your smile. 

“Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. To me…” Those turned up lips and pearly whites scorched her heart, branding your initials over the organ. It pained her something sweet, and as she listened to the bells of your laughter, the servant girl thought to herself that her heart would always burn for you.

“You are, and always will be, my greatest frie–”

Sevika snapped her eyes open, and she wished she could close them and see you again. How long will I hold on? Too many years had passed since she’d lost you. In the blazing heat of the fire, and the destruction of your hometown…

“Sevika! Stop sleeping in and come out–those heathen Danes aren’t going to kill themselves!” Sevika squinted to the sound of Vander's boisterous voice, much too energetic this early in the morning. Regardless, she rose, doing her daily routine before slipping into her armor and walking out the door. Immediately, she was met with an arm around her bicep, raising an unimpressed eyebrow at Ran's cocky grin.

“Damn Vika, you look like shit. Couldn’t sleep?” Sevika shrugged, somewhat bent over as she let Ran stir her towards breakfast. As they walked through the various halls of Wessex's palace towards the knight's dining hall, the groggy woman sighed.

“Something like that.” These dreams only served to sap her energy, waking up either panicked, soaked in sweat, or longing for a girl she knew was dead. I don���t even remember her name. Sevika only remembered you as the daughter of the ealdorman. The ealdorman that, when the Danes arrived, was forced to watch his home be burned to the ground before being killed himself. 

At the time Sevika had been a servant girl, despised by her parents simply for being born. Later, she would come to understand why her parents fought so much. Me? A noble’s bastard? …How unoriginal. However, as a child Sevika had thought there was something wrong with herself to make her parents hate her, and you had shown her otherwise. 

You had been kind to her, and she had come to know what real care was because of your generosity. Yet when she needed me…Sevika grit her teeth as she pushed around the porridge on her plate, I did nothing but cower and run. 

When the Danes came, she’d left you behind. She could have helped you, done anything to protect you, and yet…

You tripped over a fiery piece of wood, falling to the floor as the house burned around you both. Sevika turned around, ready to grab your hand when a yell bellowed from behind. The Danes getting the last treasures of the house spotted you both, and having seen how nicely you dressed, immediately recognized who you were. You gasped, turning back to Sevika with a hand stretched out, begging her to help. You couldn’t raise yourself back up with your burnt leg. But if she could just–

To your horror, Sevika recoiled, not even looking at you. Her eyes were trained on the Danes not far behind, glancing at the door just ahead. She looked back at you one last time, eyes full of tears as she ignored your desperation.

“I’m sorry lady…I’m sorry…” With that, Sevika turned away, running out the door and leaving you behind for the Danes to capture.

That moment haunted her each passing day, driving her to train and become a knight. Every time you flashed in her mind, she vowed to kill ten more Danes. To save ten more people. Every time you whispered her name in her dreams, the number doubled. 

Yet despite her efforts, that wasn’t enough. Sevika still slept only to see the fire. To see your father and her parents dead. To see you, with eyes pleading with her to save you as you were dragged away, neck yanked back to make room for a bloody ax–

“Sevika? You’re not eating. Are you alright?” The knight looked up to meet Ran's curious, concerned gaze. They had met Sevika long ago, and for some reason decided to stick with her despite her grim attitude. Ran was the closest person to a friend Sevika had now, and they reminded her that she wasn’t a child anymore, let alone experiencing that day again. 

Instead, she was a knight of Wessex, a formidable one at that…and currently preparing for another inevitable attempt from the Danes to attack, come spring. Sevika sighed, shoveling down a spoonful of porridge with a grunt.

“Me? I'm fine. Just…fine.”

____________

You knew what you wanted. You couldn’t ask for it though. The sinister voices in the back of your mind were too loud these days. 

Hands caressed your body as if you were made of glass, and to her, you supposed you were. Your lord had a body riddled with tattoos and battle scars, expansive muscles moving hypnotically as she pressed against you. She treated you like something precious, and you both craved and despised her delicate touch.

You feared she would find something wrong. Something undeniably you...and when Vi inevitably did, what would she do?

Will she abandon you, just as that girl did before?

“My love…you’ve grown silent. Talk to me, what do you need?” Vi murmured, kissing your bare shoulder. You avoided her gaze, trying to brush your emotions away.

“It’s nothing. I was simply thinking of…well it’s getting warmer, spring is approaching and I should prepare to see. To know if we should attack–”

“No,” Vi’s voice was a barely audible whisper, yet it felt like a command nonetheless. “You’re hurting again, I can feel it…” Vi reached down to gingerly hold your hand, kissing the back of it.

“So tell me what I can do to make you forget. Let me help you.” It’s a trap. Don’t do it. It’s a trap. Don’t do it, it’s a–

“…Vi,” you nervously licked your lips, and she patiently waited, “...tell me you love me…” Your voice was uncertain and faint, and Vi instantly broke into a wide smile, kissing the corner of your eyes.

“I do.”

“You won’t–you c-can’t leave me…” Vi chuckled at your fretfulness, finding this needy side of you endearing. Usually, you were fearsome, but with her, she had managed to peel back enough layers and catch a glimpse of the truth. She kissed your shuddering neck as she nodded.

“You have my heart, my love. I can never imagine being without you.” Her voice was an anchor for your tired soul, and you crumbled into her warmth. Vi let you, continuing to breathe out praises against your skin. 

“You’re too beautiful. Too stunning. I ought to tie you up here and never let another person see you again. But then I wouldn’t be able to brag, or show off how perfect you are to me…” 

She knew that would make you melt, humming as you squirmed. You loved her praising words, but you were never good at taking compliments, rouge from your bare shoulders up to the tip of your ears. Vi smirked at you as if you were adorable, leaning down to trace her teeth over the peak of your breasts. Her hand snaked down to part your folds, coaxing out sweet sounds from you.

“You’ve turned into such a pretty mess, and you’re practically glowing. Do you love my words that much…or the idea of me tying you up?” Her teasing only warmed your skin more, and she laughed at your frustrated glare. Vi planted a kiss across your trembling stomach, murmuring into the skin.

“You’re everything to me.” The conviction in her voice made you shiver, moaning as she moved to kiss every inch of your waist, fingers slowly thrusting into your heat. “My love. My life. I wouldn't trade you for anyone else in the world.” Vi removed her soaked digits, fixing the backs of your knees over her shoulders. You looked down to see fierce, electric blue eyes as Vi bent down to pleasure you further.

“I will never abandon you, and if need be? I would travel across the world just to find you.” You gasped, shuddering as Vi drove her tongue into your heat, rough and relentless as she tasted you. The weight of her devotion was like no other Dane you had ever known–like no other person you had ever known. 

“You’re mine,” she rasped into your dewy folds, eyebrows knit in concentration, “and I am your–wai–love?” At her words, tears filled up in your eyes. Comically, Vi’s own eyes bulged out, faltering at the sight of those salty droplets. She recoiled immediately, gaze unreadable for a moment.

Wait, no don’t, I’m sorry–

Your panic was quelled in less than a second, surprised when calloused hands swiftly gathered your face in their grasp. Vi’s eyes searched your own, clearly worried beyond belief.

“My love, did I hurt you? I–fuck–I didn’t–” You let out a breathless laugh, feeling ridiculous for panicking. Emboldened, you pressed your lips hard against her own, pulling her into a deep, heated kiss. Vi’s tense muscles relaxed, and you hummed in approval, pulling away to smile at your lord’s flushed cheeks.

“Never. I am just…happy. You love me, despite me being, well, me. I’m in awe–

“There you go again.” You squeaked as Vi suddenly flipped you over, frustrated. “Belittling yourself. Acting as if you don’t deserve a thing. I won’t allow it, and if you insist on continuing?”

The sound of her drawer opening made your heart skip a beat, glancing over your shoulder to see Vi pull out her strap. Oh shit.

“Then I’ll just have to make sure you can’t speak again…right?”

____________

Some days later, when you were finally able to walk again, you looked into your lord’s future.

You saw Vi, triumphant. She raised his blade with a cry, and the horse before her fell–along with the Saxon king. The weak man scrambled back, he cried out for mercy–but your lord would grant him no such thing. Instead she raised her sword with a furious grin, bringing it down with one final swing…

…and the blood of the Saxon king ran red, pooling at her feet.

“Guards!” You yelled as you trudged through the murky bog water around you. One of the guards waiting began to look back towards you, and your voice broke into another commanding roar, “turn away, now.” Hastily he did, but you knew it was already too late.

“No man is to show me his face.” You reminded them both with a heavy scowl, stalking towards the one that had fearfully turned away. “No man is to see me before my lord.” 

You unsheathed your daggers, moving to cut the back of his knee. The tender flesh broke under your force, and he buckled, crying out in pain. You didn’t mind the sniveling man any longer, turning to face the other guard from behind.

“You will go ahead and remind the camp that my lord must be the first to see me.” The guard frantically nodded, voice trembling.

“Y-yes lady.” You lurked, silently walking around him from behind. His friend cried out in pain, seething in the mud. The guard before you knew better than to acknowledge him there.

“Once she has my message, they’ll be free to gaze.” He nodded once, and then he was gone, quickly speeding away to warn the camp. You shifted your eyes back onto the writhing man on the ground, raising an eyebrow as he desperately spoke.

“M-my lady, I swear, I did not look at you!” You ignored his pleas, kind enough to inform him of his fate.

“...I must take your eyes.” At that he flinched, more energetic than before.

“L-lady no–be merciful!” You scoffed, pacing as you looked down at him in annoyance.

“And your tongue.” His eyebrows narrowed at that, and in a last ditch effort he reached for his sword. Perfect. 

“You bitch! I-I’ll kill you–argh!” You threw one of your daggers, letting the weapon sink into his wrist. He cried out, but you didn’t give him time for his final breath on this earth to last, clambering on top of his body before bringing the blunt end of your remaining dagger down onto his eyes. 

Again and again you bashed the weapon into them, feeding off his cries of pain. Feverishly, you grinned as his warm blood splattered across your face. You bit your bottom lip as you flipped the blade in your hand once that was done, driving it up under his chin. Finally, the grating noise of his annoying yells cut off, and you breathed out in satisfaction. Unceremoniously, you yanked your dagger out of his head and rose, leaving the body there to head to your lord.

“Turn away!” You harshly spoke, striding into the camp. “Only the women may look at me until I have told my lord what I have seen.” As you walked, the men obeyed, turning away from you with haste. They knew doing otherwise would result in death, and although you were never one to turn away from it, you couldn’t kill every man in your lord's camp.

You marched forward, determined. Where is she? You were itching to see her, to tell her of her glory, to tell her of her destiny. Taking a turn, you abruptly stopped, surprised until you softly smiled.

Your lord was already on her knees, waiting for you. Vi was so frozen one would think she was dead, with her hands laid out over her knees and eyes closed. She meditated to become one with the gods, but that wouldn’t be enough.

You would be the one to bring her to it.

With little hesitation you brought your dagger onto your own palm, slashing across it. You strode up to Vi, walking around your lord until you stood behind her. You reached down to grab a fistful of her hair, jerking it backwards. Pale blue eyes snapped open, staring back up at you. The intensity of her gaze made you shiver as you held your clenched fist over her mouth, pouring your blood down past her lips as you rasped. 

“Vi my love, drink me and make my vision real. Let me offer you all my strength…” When the last drop fell she closed her eyes as if the taste of you was enchanting. The look made your stomach twist, and you hummed as you walked around to face her, kneeling before your lord. You delicately cupped her jaw in the palm of your bloody hand, watching her eyes flutter open. 

It is done. You leaned forward, and she knew what to do, devouring your lips in a burning kiss. You kissed her back with equal passion, the taste of her sullied with the metallic tinge of blood. Eventually, you pulled back, eyeing crimson smeared on her lips as you whispered.

“I see the death of a king.” Vi’s eyebrows furrowed, strong arms wrapping around you as she spoke just as softly.

“Which king?” You grinned, gleeful as you answered your love.

“I see…the death of Silco. The king of Wessex.”

[tokoyamisstuff]

Tender Ch. 1 - Loki x Mute! Reader

Summary: Even though Loki doesn’t understand why the new member of the Avengers should be kind to him of all people, he doesn’t want you to stop either.

Warnings: Loki being depressed, the Avengers being kinda mean, mentions of Torture and Death

Words: ~2100

[Story Masterlist] [All of my Works]

All eyes were on him again.

As soon as Loki would step inside, the previously lively room would fall completely silent. Well, it’s not like he wasn’t used to being the involuntary kill-joy...

Usually, the God of Mischief craved attention, may it be positive or negative - most of the time being the latter. But lately, after months of having all those distrustful and hostile glares piercing holes into him, he’d rather wish for the ground to swallow him whole.

“Umm, so...I gotta go.” Natasha was the first one to flee the unpleasant atmosphere, not even putting the energy into mutter anything else than a cheap excuse on her way out. Clint wordlessly followed her close after, but not without shooting the Odinson one last, spiteful look.

Loki on the other hand was picking on his hands, a nervous habit he had inherited from his mother. As much as he tried to avoid meeting their eyes, the tensioned aura they were emitting making him feel close to breaking down completely - but he would never give them the satisfaction to witness this, he swore to himself.

And yet: Maybe he should just leave. Disappear, forever.

Although he’d never admit, Loki had grown very tired of his life following this stirr path, unable to diverge into a new direction. Everything he did would ultimately bring death and destruction upon mankind, inflicting fear in the hearts of all people.

His whole existence was based on being condemned to fail - just for others to reach their ‘glorius purpose’.

“Great” Tony scoffed. “Now they’re gone. Well done, prince of nothing.” Steve cut his friend off, clearing his throat very exaggeratedly.

The god still hadn’t moved from the doorframe of the conference room, while all others were already sitting on the oval-shaped table. He didn’t got what all that fuss was about. If Steve didn’t insist him to attend this emergency meeting, he’d just have gone about his usual business and avoided everyone as good as he could.

“C’mon, brother” Thor sighed, well knowing that if his brother was to stay in the team, it would ultimatively drive a wedge between them. All that pressure in the air was straining for everyone, including himself. 

Tony on the other hand was pretty chill about everything, aside of being passive-aggressive. This was probably due to their similar coping styles.

Even though his near-death-experience back when he stopped the Chitauri was still eating on his mental health, he’d prefer glossing over it with stupid jokes and overly confident behaviour. “No sassy remark today, Reindeer Games?”

Stark was leaning back in his chair, arms crossed as he rose an eyebrow on the god, who only muttered a hoarse “No...not today.”

Yeah, it was kind of his style to break the unsettling silence through puny comments or self-glorifying speeches, to distract from his own insecurity.

But right now, he was just so damn tired.

Of this planet and it’s people, as well as the humiliating circumstances he had to dwell in. The fact that he was a prisoner at the Stark Tower, amongst his worst enemies. Being forced by his brother to keep up this meaningless act, as if he’d ever be seen as a team member or ally - when in reality, he was but a slave to the people he once ought to reign.

Just like back on Asgard: Never one of them, never belonging. No way to break free - for his true self was something to be loathed.

However, first and foremost the one thing he was especially tired of was himself, for he couldn’t get out of his own skin. Not only could he never be considered a hero, let alone be redeemed.

After all the atrocities he had commited due to Thanos’ torture and the tesseract’s influence,  now that he woke up from that naive dream of power stilling the emptiness in his dark heart, there was nothing left for him - other than to be haunted by his crimes until the mercy of death would overcome him.

“Well” Steve began, slamming his palms on the desk to attract everyone’s attention. “As you all know, we are welcoming a new team member today.”

“They all know?” Of course they wouldn’t let him in on such sensitive information. Not that he minded either way - one Avenger more or less, it didn’t matter how many people hated him in here.

“Please, come on in.”

Loki cleared the entrance when he heared Tony’s words, turning around in anticipation of another dull creature like the Hulk to torment him - but his calm demeanour dropped completely at this unusual sight:

“Y-You?!”

That was simply not possible! The last time he had seen you was almost a year ago, and you were on the brink of death at that!

“For everyone that doesn’t know yet: Her name is Y/N Y/L/N. She is one of the victims HYDRA experimented on, and they succeeded in forming an artificial mutant.”

Steve went on and on explaining about your powers, but Loki’s head had already turned on autopilot, the only thing he could concentrate on being how the hell you of all people ended up here.

All these months, he was desperately trying to get any information about you, all of his hints ultimately leading him to dead ends - and in the end, tragically believing in your imminent death.

The memories were still painfully vivid in his mind: It was his first mission together with the Avengers, at a HYDRA hideout with most likely no civil survivors.

Actually, he had planned to make his escape right when the others engaged in a fight, wandering the hallways of what resembled a torture chamber rather than a laboratory.

On the walls were several instructions, about a serum that might cause a human to mutate if they were exposed to unbearable stress - pain being the most effective method, apparently.

Yet instead of finding anything useful for his personal gain, he found you: A  beautiful woman, yet emaciated and lying in a puddle of her own blood. At first he thought you to be dead just like the others - but as soon as your faint whimpers drang to his ears, he burst the cell you were trapped in open, rushing to your side immediately.

“Shh...” the god scooped you up from the cold stone floor, wrapping his cloak around your broken body. “Everything is alright now. Your savior is here.”

Loki gasped as he felt your hand stroking his cheekbone, even through all your pain and weakness wanting to bid your hero this due respect.

“Hel...you humans are such fragile creatures...” Loki muttered under his breath, cursing his own lack of talent when it came to casting healing spells. “Hang in there, look at me!”

Your eyes were teary and bloodshot, yet not less fit to bring across a message no words ever could: Incredible gratitude, and admiration.

He could tell you were close to passing out when your hand left his face, falling limp to the side. But he held you firmly in his arms, not once stopping to utter sweet words of encouragement as he made his way to the ship, leading you into safety.

“Your world in the balance, and you bargain for one man?”

Those were the words he once directed at Black Widow - but only now he understood her attempts.

Saving one person could never make up for all the lives he had destroyed - and yet he knew that for you, it would mean the world none the less.

In one way or another, with your life at his mercy, he began to finally grasp the preciousness of life, and doing everything in one’s might to protect it.

“Reindeer Games” Tony tapped on his shoulders, making Loki wake from his pondering. “I’d appreciate if you didn’t scare her away on the first day already.”

Oh.

Just now he was noticing his own grim expression, having towered over your much smaller form this whole time with furrowed brows.

“My apologies” was his firm response, but you only shook your head, trying to tell him it was not a big deal.

So this was what you looked like when you’re not imprisoned, he realized when he took in your physique.

Much to his pleasure, all of your wounds had seemingly healed, and you finally gained some much needed weight. Like this, you looked so much more healthier - and most definetly even more bewitching than he remembered you.

If people had let him know, would he have visited your sickbed, aiding you towards health again? Who knows...

Yet somehow, he dwelled in the thought of you being able to lead a happy life now that you were free - which made your decision to seek out the Avengers in wish for more battles even harder for him to accept.

“You are incredibly strong, Lady Y/N” Loki spoke firmly, everyone else rolling their eyes at his usual exaggeration - but you knew he meant every word. “Be sure of my eternal respect.” 

The God of Lies’ eyes widened in excitement when you directed a warm smile at him, knowing for sure that this one was genuine. It wasn’t like those fake smirks the other Avengers gave him out of politeness, or the mocking laughs when they were making fun of or excluding him.

No - that one was just pure affection. And it left him in awe.

“Thank you for saving me back then” you signed, just for Loki shooting you a puzzled look.

“What, I thought the all-tongue knows every language?” Tony yelled, as inconsiderate as always. Thor was quick to explain on his brother’s stead, him still being deeply invested with you. “Every spoken one, yes. ASL is not one of our fortes.”

Usually, Loki had always been a quick thinker. But right now he was to bewildered by your appearance that thinking straight was out of the question.  

What language were they speaking of? And why have you not been saying anything up until now? Maybe his presence was making you uncomfortable, after all? Should he leave on your behalf?

To make it easier for him to understand, you rolled down your turtleneck, revealing the unsighty scar that covered your whole throat.

There were not many people bold enough to come close to the God of Mischief without warning, yet suddenly you simply took his hand and slowly led it to your neck.

How could you be so naive and offer someone like him such a vital spot?! He’ll never get the human philosophy...

And yet, the flabbergasted god hesistantly let his hand run over the scar, while you opened your mouth to no avail - for 11 months already, no tone would leave your vocal cords.

“I’m incredibly sorry...” Loki whispered with a sorrowful tone, while the others just stared in disbelief. “If only I was able to heal this wound back then...”

What a puny god he was...and an even more pathetic wanna-be-hero at that...

He would try to take a few steps back, but you took a hold of his hand, squeezing it with both of yours, that cheerful smile not faltering in the slightest.

“Please, don’t be sad. I’m only alive thanks to you!” Bucky, whose cousin was mute as well, translated what you were signing for Loki. His tone sounded quite irritated, not fitting those meaningful words. “I only wanted to join the Avengers because I want to be just like you. You’re my idol!”

Those words touched him deeply, igniting a flame inside of him he thought long to be defunct. Was it hope?

Of course it was not nearly enough to pull him out of that deep, dark hole he felt trapped in for as long as he could remember - yet somehow, he now felt that it was not impossible to escape.

While the others were cringing at your declaration, making jokes about ‘choosing wrong idols’ or would plainly not believe Loki to have a positive effect on anyone, the two of you would just stare at each other in silent admiration.

Shyly, you signed yet another word for him - and this time, Loki would know what you mean from pure intuition. 

He smiled.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Loki was able to smile again, just thanks to your heartwarming welcome. And he was still blissfully unaware about what effect you could have on him, if he was brave enough to let you close.

One thing was sure: You literally had him wrapped around his finger from the very start.

[sergeant-donny-donowitz]

The World Is Ugly: Donny x Reader

*TW: Angst/Violence A/N: I AM SO SO SORRY!!!! I had this done months ago and somehow forgot to actually post it??? This was literally requested like in winter????

*based on The World is Ugly by MCR

Requested by @softhornymess

@owba-chan @war-obsessed  @inglourious-imagines @tammykelly @struggling-bee @frozenhuntress67 @kwyloz @sodapop182 @pastexistence @what-the--curtains @taikawho @spookybearlandtaco Let me know if you wanna be added to the IB or OUATIH taglists! :)

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

1945 "This doesn't scare ya?" Donny joined you at the edge of a steep ravine. In the horizon, beyond the towering trees, between the leaves and the stars, bursts of light and booms echoed from the distant battlefield. "No." You didn't take your eyes off the abyss. "I haven't felt scared anymore, just...a little lonely sometimes." You looked at the endlessness before your eyes. Donny nodded, "Yeah..." He knew just how you felt. You'd had a thousand small talks like that one, and each time you learned something new about each other. "Lonely," his voice was quieter than you were used to, but then again, why would he want to wake the rest of the basterds up now? Now, as his hand rested over yours. Your eyes turned to his, and the two of you smiled for a moment, before turning back to the distant bellowing engines and flashing lights. By dawn, Donny would be gone. Aldo was sending him on a mission of his own, further away from the battle field, meaning further into enemy territory. He was going alone, but that didn't worry you until days turned to weeks. So, Aldo sent the next best thing after him: you. You were interrogating a nazi. Frankly, if he didn't give you the information you wanted, you would still get an extra scalp for the debt you owed to Aldo. The nazi laughed as you threatened him with your gun. "Was ist so lustig?" 'What's so funny?' You demanded through gritted teeth, your gun pressed against his head.

"Du bist nichts ohne Donowitz hinter dir." 'You are nothing without Donowitz behind you.'

You turned to see that Donny was in fact not the one behind you. Instead, you had been surrounded by a patrol. It was a whole army to you, it took everything in you to survive it. And then you saw it. They had Donny's bat. They had taken Donny from you, you were sure of it. In that moment, nothing else mattered. They were everything that was wrong with the world, and you intended to make things right, even if it meant you never got to see another day. When you enlisted just a few short years before, you were naive. You were just some kid, looking for an adventure. You were like so many others. You thought you could change the world. But now, after all you'd come to see, you realized one thing. The world is ugly. But, for brief moments in time, during small talks between the bleakest hours and the softest sunrises, you saw a world beyond your own. You saw the endlessness of the farthest galaxies, the depths of the ocean all in Donny's eyes. He was all that was beautiful to you. You were ready to take on the entire nazi army if you had to to get even. And in that moment, it felt as though that were exactly what you were doing. *** You opened your eyes. You had made it. You took on what seemed to be an army, and you won. You lost your knife in the process, you had no more bullets. You were hurting, hungry, out of water, out of fire. Donny was there. He hovered over you, and you caught your breath. You sat up in confusion, but pain pulsed through every inch of you. "Hey, hey, stay down." Donny gently settled you back down, and waited, watching to make sure you didn't try to get up again. He shook his head, "Fuck's sake y/n," he folded up a strip of cloth he'd torn, and dipped it in his canteen. He wiped away dirt and blood from your face, following a dried trail of blood from your ear, "What has the world done to you..." He was exasperated. You scanned him, searching for answers, but even your eyes hurt. You were both quiet for a few moments, then he asked "What are you doin' out here?" "I came to find you." You confirmed his worst fear, and a pang of guilt washed over him. "I'm fine." You looked at him, and saw there wasn't even a scratch on him. "I was on my way back to you." "They had your bat. I thought that..." you trailed off, not even wanting to utter such words. "Thought that what?" "Nothing. It doesn't matter." He stopped tending to your wounds for a moment. Everything about you mattered to him. Every word, every dream, every breath. "It matters to me." His eyes were wide, searching for an answer. His hands wrapped around your forearm, clinging desperately to all he had. "I thought they got you..." You were both quiet for a moment, and then he responded. "I went back to get my bat... then I saw you here. You were holding on to it, but I thought I was..." Even the bravest of the basterds could not get through the words. "Too late." He shook his head, "Why did you do it?" He demanded. He was angry but not at you. No, he could never be angry at you. He was angry to live in a world that would not hesitate to tear you apart. Losing each other was not an option. Even if you had the right words, it would still burn to say them. One day, decades after the war had ended, you mentioned this instance for the first and last time since. You found that even then,  you and Donny still had trouble with the idea of losing each other. Why? Well...in these times, you were all that the other had. You were the only sign of hope in a cruel world to each other. Saying goodbyes was not an  option. Lucky for you, you didn't have to. No, not this time. But in war who really knew when? All you really had was the dawn as the moon fell away in the horizon, yielding to the pastel streaks of orange in the sky. You finally answered him. Yes, Aldo sent you but you were the first to volunteer to go. If anyone could find Donny, it was you. All the basterds knew that. "I just wanted a happy ending. That's all." "Happy ending... with me?" He shook his head, knowing war was no place for those words. "That's  a stupid thing to die for." His voice was low, and he turned away. Even he didn't believe himself. "What?" You wanted him to say it again, and to look you in the eyes. If he could do that, you'd believe him. He turned to you, "They did this to you because of me. No one gets a happy ending like that." You turned your head away, and your eyes raised to the farthest point. You didn't want him to see you tear up at the harsh words. But he saw anyway. And...it broke his heart. "I'm sorry..." He really didn't mean it. He knew he would have done the same for you, and in his mind, that was anything but stupid. "I just can't lose ya doll... Not in this world."

"You could never lose me," you smiled taking his hand. He smiled softly, wrapping his arms around you. The war could take basterds like Michael and Simon and wipe out entire towns, but it could never take away his love. Some day you'd be home again. The memories and nightmares of the ugliest things the world had to offer would never leave Donny, but neither would you. "I'm sorry." "Why would you be," you shook your head, and he said "Because I love you." You looked up at him. He meant every word. "Losing you is losing everything, realizing how ugly the world really is. If I had to go home without you, you'd still follow me everywhere. I'd see your ghost in the snow, in the sun, all the time, everywhere. I can't be without you. I'd let myself be haunted, just so the idea of you would stay with me. And I'm so afraid of that." "They won't keep us apart. They won't win." Donny kissed you. He was tired of being scared of losing you, and tired of being scared of having you. There was only so much a man could take after all. He dried your tears and you marched on together, your heart beating just as strong as his. It was time to go. It was time to return to the basterds, to the war, to the mission. But in that moment you both understood wherever you went, you would go together.

[maddiwrites]

The Hybrid (I)

Pairing: JJ x Reader

Summary: The Pogues rekindle their friendship with their old childhood best friend and JJ’s first crush, Y/N. Old feelings resurface for JJ and Y/N, possibly leading to a summer neither one of them could ever forget. Due to past trauma, Y/N is reluctant to let anyone into her heart, but JJ never backs down from a challenge, even if he knows it will come back to haunt him in the end.

Note: Thank you for being patient with me as I slowly write this series. I had this idea a long time ago and I’m not finding motivation to write it but the inspiration comes and go. I smile with every comment that is left on my fics and I’m so grateful for this community. Thank you for letting me pursue my creative writing without judgement. Love you guys! (Also, yes. If you didn’t see my last note, I based YN’s family off of the Gilmore Girls characters. That’s who I picture as them.)

Word Count: 8k

 Masterlist   Prologue 

You wake up to someone falling on your bed next to you with a dramatic sigh. Knowing exactly who it is, you choose to ignore her and try getting back to the dreamless sleep you were peacefully having before you woke up.

That is, until she sighs again. 

You flip onto your back and stare up at your ceiling fan that’s quickly spinning above you. “What, Rory?”

“How did it go with Andre and that boy?”

You look at her with one brow raised. “You woke me up to hear about Andre’s love life? That hardly sounds like you. You don’t care about high school drama or hookups.”

“You’re right,” Rory says. “But I thought I would ease you into what I actually need to tell you.”

You turn on right side and look at your sister confused. “What?”

She sighs. “The cafe’s basement flooded last night. Mom needs us there to help her clean up and take inventory on what’s salvageable.”

You turn back on you backside and close your eyes, exhaling a deep sigh. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Unfortunately not,” Rory says and pats you twice on your covered thigh as she sits up. “Come on. I made you pre-cafe coffee. It’s sitting in the kitchen.”

You throw your sheets off of you and trudge to the bathroom to brush your teeth and clean your face. It’s about 8 a.m. At least you were able to get about six hours of sleep. 

Last night, it was hard to let your brain rest to fall asleep. You kept tossing and turning, thinking about the blonde Pogue who walked you home. You missed how easy it was to talk to someone who you felt truly knew you. Your banter rolled off your tongue easily and you never had to worry about offending him because you knew him like the back of your hand. You knew what he could take and what he couldn't. 

Talking to him brought back childhood memories you had hidden deep in your mind. How JJ would constantly poke you until you ripped into a smile on days that were grey. How you used to steal John B’s bandanas until he was chasing you around his house to get them back. How you would draw a mustache and a unibrow on Pope’s face when he fell asleep by the water. 

Those days felt like they were decades ago. So far away, you didn’t know if you’d be able to reach for them again. If it was even possible to get back. 

You thought about texting him. Thanks for walking me back. We should all get together soon! You had written out. But then you deleted the whole message, telling yourself it was because you didn’t know if he even had the same number. But deep down, you were just afraid of the rejection. 

Its been about three years since the four of you had been together in one place. You don’t know what they’ve been through or if they’ve changed. They for sure as hell don’t know what you’ve been through. You don’t know if they're dynamic has changed. Clearly you and JJ can still joke with each other but what about John B and Pope? You heard about John B’s father disappearing at sea, most people believing he’s dead, but John B holding onto hope that’s he’s alive. You always thought about calling him to reach out and offer your condolences. But for the same reason you didn’t text JJ, you never called. It didn’t feel like your place. They had Kie for that now. A little part of you felt jealous of her, like she had replaced you and any memory of you. She seemed nice, but she wasn’t you.

“Ready?” Rory pops her head in to your room as you slip on a cropped plain white zip up jacket over your cropped black tank. 

“As I’ll ever be,” You say and snag the car keys out of her hands. “Don’t even think about it. I’m driving.”

Rory rolls her eyes. “I want to get there safely.”

“And I want to get there quickly.”

“Fine. But we’re taking my car. It actually has doors.”

For your sixteenth birthday, your grandparents gifted both you and Rory your own individual cars and even let you pick them out. Rory chose a black 2020 Honda Civic for it’s safety features and reputation for longevity as if she was planning on handing it down to her future kids. And you picked out a white 2020 Jeep Wrangler with a hard top that pops off along with the doors for a very open and thrilling ride. Everyone but you called it a death trap, but you found it to be the perfect summer car. 

You park Rory’s boring Honda Civic in the back of the cafe in a lot used specifically for employees. The cafe is already booming with teens and families, waiting for their morning coffees and fresh pastries. Kids your age are running around behind the counter with sweat dripping down their brow bone to get everyone’s orders out in a timely manner. 

In the back of the store, your mom walks up the steps from the basement with two large trash bags and immediately notices the two of you. “Oh good. You’re here. Rory, help the girls behind the counter. The dishwasher’s broken and poor Hailey is hand washing everything. Y/N, come with me downstairs.”

“Why does Rory get the fun job?” You grumble and follow your mom back downstairs after she tosses the two trash bags. 

“Because she’s actually nice to the customers.”

“Treat others how you would like to be treated. Isn’t that what everyone always says?” You smirk. You never agreed with the phrase ‘the customer is always right.’ It’s complete bullshit and being the employee shouldn’t mean letting yourself getting verbally abused by a ‘Karen’ on the other side of the counter. 

The basement is used for the cafe’s storage, lined with wooden shelves Steve put together that hold to go cups, back up espresso machines, boxes of coffee and food and ingredients, etc. Now all the boxes are dark and sopping, creating puddles on the concrete floor. 

“Oh my god. Mom. How did this happen?”

“Jenky water pipe busted in the middle of the night,” Steve walks down the stairs and passes your mom a knowing look. It didn’t surprise you that he was here. He’s the jack of all trades. Owns his own automotive shop, builds a lot of his own furniture, actually cooks a decent meal, and has the same outlook on customer service as you do. He was probably your mom’s first call. “Talked to the plumber. They can’t get here until at least noon.”

“Noon? We’ll be underwater by noon. I might as well turn all my employees into a swim team,” Your mom says.

Steve shakes his head. “I was able to hold the leak until he gets here. You should be fine.”

Steve was the first person that actually helped your mother out when's she moved to the Cut. Six months pregnant, she pushed her car into his automotive shop after it broke down on the side of the road. Their banter was similar to the one you and JJ have. He helped save your mom money by building yours and Rory’s cribs, changing table, and dressers. And ever since, the two of them had been connected by the hip, although they both refuse to admit it. You think the pair are just trying to deny the love they clearly share for each other. And you think the main reason for that is because of the incident four years ago with your mom’s ex boyfriend. No thanks to you.

 “Look at you constantly building your resume,” You smirk at him. 

Steve scoffs. “It’s more than what you’re doing.”

You roll your eyes. Steve is the closest thing you have to a father. He practically helped raise you with your mom. He’s the one you turn to whenever a fight with your mom goes too far, which isn't too often but it happens. He usually lets you stay at his house for the night to let you cool off. But he’ll never sugar coat his advice when it comes time for him to give it. Even if you don’t ask for it. He knows growing up with Rory has been challenging. She was clearly your mom’s favorite, or at least that’s what you thought. She has a 4.0 GPA with a realistic dream to get into Brown University and study journalism. She played by every rule, never got into trouble, and spent most of her free nights getting ahead of her school work or staying late at the cafe with an open book from the library across the street. She was an absolute angel to everyone else, making you look like her evil twin. 

You glare at him before turning to your mom with crossed arms. “What do you want me to do, Mom?”

“Actually honey. Can you go to Heywards and grab more coffee filters and napkins. The water soaked right through the plastic wrapping on our last box.”

You nod, leaving your mom and Steve to clean up the basement themselves. Before heading out, you sneak behind the counter and make yourself a quick coffee to go.

“Where you going?” Rory asks as she reaches behind you to grab a banana for her customer at the register.

“Heywards to grab a couple things for Mom.”

“Oh. Make sure to grab toilet paper while you’re out. I think we’re almost out of it.”

“Got it.” 

Heywards is only a short drive from your mom’s cafe. It’s the closest convenient store that isn’t crazy pricey. It’s where your mom gets all her supplies whenever she runs out of things before shipment gets there. 

You use to always come here when you were younger with the boys, each of you, even Pope, stealing a small bag of chips or a candy bar here and there. Little did any of you know, Mr. Heyward caught your thieving hands every time but never said anything. 

The bell above the door chimes when you walk into the store. You know this place as well as you know the cafe, finding the toilet paper and coffee filter immediately. 

When Mr. Heyward looks up from the counter, his smile grows. He can pick you out of a crowd anywhere, but he hasn’t seen you in a long time. Last time he saw you, you had braces and overgrown bushy brows. Now you had bushed hair and shaved legs. 

“Hi. Mr. Heyward,” You grin shyly at him. You don’t know how he’s going to react to see you, unsure of what Pope might have told him about you. 

“Little Miss Y/L/N? Is that you?” Heyward smiles widely, pulling your own lips into a wider smile. “I haven’t seen you for a long time.”

“Yeah, I’ve been busy with school and my mom’s cafe...” Both of those things were a lie. You just avoid the Cut to avoid the Pogues. 

“How’s the fam?” 

“They’re good,” You say as Heyward hands you your bags. “Mom says hello by the way. I’m actually taking these to her store now.”

“Well, don’t be a stranger. We miss your smiling face around her. Anette, too.” Heyward says, mentioning his wife. 

“Tell her I said hi.”

“Of course, darling.” 

Heyward and Anette always had a special place in their heart for you and Rory. They’re not one for gossip, but they knew a little bit about what your mom’s been through and have heard plenty of stories about your grandparents. They always thought, despite your mom’s background, that you and your sister were raised impressively. Anette always hoped that one day Pope and Rory would get together. Everyone always wanted their child to be with Rory. 

As your about to leave the store, the bell chimes again with another customer. Only it’s not another customer. It’s Pope and John B. They don’t see you at first, and you wonder if maybe you can sneak out without them seeing you. But something about that felt wrong. Especially because Heyward would more than likely mention to them that you were here. 

Pope sees you first and stops in his tracks. “Y/N?” 

“Hey, guys. Long time no see,” You smile at both of them. You bite down on your lip awkwardly when you meet John B’s stare. You don’t know if you should mention anything about his dad’s disappearance. But what would you say? Sorry? What good would that do?

“How’ve you been?” Pope gives you a small side hug, then John B. 

You shrug. “You know, living the dream.”

“How’s life as a Hybrid?” John B smirks. 

You roll your eyes playfully and groan. “Oh god. Never call me that again.”

You may be considered a Hybrid by everyone else, but you would never put yourself into that category. You grew up a Pogue, the same way everyone else did around you. The only thing tying you to the Kooks are your grandparents. 

“Why?” John B smirks. “I wish I was a Hybrid.”

You smirk back. “Maybe you will be one day. I hear you have a Kook of your own for arm candy.”

You saw a faint hint of blush on John B’s cheek at the mention of his girlfriend but you don’t mention it. “Sarah, yeah. She’s not like the other Kooks.”

“I would hope not. Her brother’s a dick.”

“Yeah,” They laugh. 

“We miss you, you know.” John B says. Pope looks at you, trying to read your expression. John B’s not wrong. They do all miss you, especially Pope. He felt like you were the only one who really understood him. Of course his other friends are great, but you actually took the time to try and understand his passions. Like forensic science. 

“I miss you guys too. It’s been a while.”

“Well, hey. We’re actually all getting together tonight at my place. Nothing big. Just a bonfire and a couple beers. You should stop by,” John B says.

“Yeah,” Pope says, immediately getting hopeful that you’ll show up. 

Your smile falters. The invite makes your heart swell and your lungs contract. It’s an invite you’ve been wanting for three years. And now that you have it, you don’t know what to say. It’d be different if it was just the four of you like old times. But now there’s Kie and Sarah and although you have nothing against them, you’re afraid they won’t accept you. The thought of your boys picking them over you terrifies you. 

“Okay. Yeah, sure. I’ll try to swing by later.” 

Pope smiles wide and looks at his friend to see his reaction. John B grins and nods, almost impressed that you had agreed. But he saw the twitch in your lips when the question was asked. 

“Great. I guess we’ll see you later then.” 

You nod. “Okay. Bye guys.”

You suck in a deep breath when the fresh air outside of Heyward’s store brushes over you. Your heart thumps wildly with both excitement and nerves when you’re finally able to collect your thoughts. You don’t know what you’ll do tonight, but the possibilities can change your entire summer.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

You spent the rest of the day mopping up the cafe’s basement and rearranging the shelves. You smelled of sweat and coffee grounds by the time you were done and dreamt of the shower you would be taking when you got home. 

Rory drove you home after the two of you closed up the cafe for the day. Neither of you said much. Rory was exhausted from running around behind the counter and you were too busy thinking about whether you’d go back to the place you used to call your second home.

You took a longer shower than usual, still pondering what your night would be like. Your head was telling you to stay home but your heart pulled you in the direction of the Cut. You yearned to hear about what the future held for Pope, and listen to John B retell stories of when you were kids, and be able to stare into JJ’s bright blue eyes without him noticing. 

You changed into a pair of jean shorts and a plain red cropped tank. Rory walks into your room as your brushing out your hair and looks at you as if you lost your mind.

“Are you out of your mind? You can’t wear that,” She says.

You brows scrunch together in confusion. “What are you talking about? I wear shit like this all the time.”

“Not to the Country Club, you don’t.” That’s when it hits you. Today’s been so hectic, you forgot what day it was. “It’s Sunday.”

Sunday dinner at the Country Club is now a weekly commitment forced upon you by your grandparents. Each week, your mom, sister, and you are forced to spend one dinner with your grandma and grandpa. This is basically your mom’s payment back for sending you and Rory to Kook Academy. Only they actually pay for the dinner. It’s usually the longest two hours of your entire week. It’s hard to listen to your grandfather rant about Real Estate and your grandma slyly critique your mother in almost every aspect of her life. 

“Shit. I completely forgot,” You say.

“Well, you better change. We’re leaving in about five minutes,” Rory says then plucks a gold necklace from your dresser. “Oh and can I wear this tonight?”

You sigh. “Sure.”

You change into a baby blue wrap around dress and pin your wet hair into a half up half down due. It’s gonna have to work for the limited time you have to get ready. After applying a thin layer of makeup to look the least bit presentable, you meet your mom and sister by the front door.

“Finally,” Your mom says when she sees you. 

“Sorry. I didn’t realize it was Sunday.”

“It’s okay, honey. I just don’t think I can handle another late remark from Mom today.” She looks you up and down and grins. “You look great.”

Despite the many fiery fights you and your mom can have, she is also your best friend. It’s kind of like a love hate relationship. Steve says it’s because you’re exactly like your mom - almost like a sixteen year old version of her. 

You really hope that isn’t true. You’re not ready to have a kid in two years. 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

Your grandparents are already sitting at a round table in the corner of the country club by the two tall windows that reach up to the ceiling with a view looking out into the golf course. The best seat in the house for the richest a holes on the island. 

“Lorelai,” Your grandmother grins, but you can instantly tell it’s sarcastic. “Did you have to walk here?”

You speak up before your mom could. “Sorry Grandma. It’s my fault we’re late.”

Your grandparents are hard on your mom but easier on you and Rory, especially Rory.

“Well, you’re here now,” Your grandpa says. He’s usually the mediator between your mom and grandma. Although he’s usually sucks at it. “Sit. Sit.”

Meanwhile, back in the kitchen, JJ shuffles through his many coworkers with his apron in one hand and a piece of fried calamari from Miss Carol’s appetizer in the other. 

“JJ -” She scolds and slaps his hand away from going in for a second piece. 

“Good evening Miss Carol,” JJ smirks and makes his way to the area between the kitchen and dining room where most of the servers and bust boys hang out. Some of the boys slap him on the back or shove him by the shoulder, chuckling to themselves. “What’s going on boys? Busy crowd?”

“What are you doing here? You never work Sundays,” His friend, Mitch, says. 

Luke Maybank was behind on several bills - worse than it’s ever been. They already shut off their electricity and JJ wanted to make sure the water wouldn’t be next. 

But JJ shrugs nonchalantly. “Little extra dough can't hurt.”

“Well, you picked a good day,” Raymond walks up to the blonde, rolling his sleeves. “You got Kook Royalty and their Hybrid offsprings in your section.” 

“What?” JJ looks through the small square Plexiglas on the swinging door. He knows exactly where to look and immediately sees you sitting with King and Queen Kook, looking absolutely miserable, pushing around your food with your fork. 

“Damn, Maybank. Almost broke your neck - you turned so fast.”

“Shut up, Easterling. I was just seeing how crowded we were,” JJ lied. He really just wanted to see if you were here. And now that he sees you are, he’s a little nervous to do his own damn job.

Raymond Easterling chuckles. “Yeah, I know what you were looking at. But don’t get your hopes up. There’s a reason Kooks call that girl the Heart Sucker. Not even the high and powerful JJ Maybank could get a piece of that.”

The guys around JJ and Raymond chuckle and nod in agreement, hearing the stories of how you’d reject every single guy that’s ever asked you out. Sometimes you’d go on a few dates, trying to push yourself out of your comfort zone, but then things would quickly become too much, and you’d get overwhelmed. 

JJ didn’t like the way Raymond talked about you or how the others laughed at your expense. His hands clenched into fists, tempted to throw a punch in Ray’s cocky face.  The guy’s just being a jerk because he’s one of the guys that got rejected by you, he thought. 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” JJ shakes his head and ties his apron around his waist to distract his hands.

“No?” Raymond challenges him. “You think I’m wrong? You think you could pull the infamous Hybrid over there?”

JJ glances back through the window. You’re looking at your grandma with a clearly forced grin. You’re twirling your hair between your fingers, a habit you picked up when you were little to do when you’re bored. JJ would find you doing that in school all the time. 

You’re gorgeous, he thought. It’s no wonder that almost every guy on this island has tried to make a pass on you, including JJ himself, but his remarks always come off as playful, afraid of actually telling you how he feels about you. His fantasies about you went further than just getting you between the sheets. He could picture getting married, having children, and growing old together. Years ago, the two of you would talk about your future. Neither one of you cared about money or fancy jobs. All you wanted was to be free - of this island, of each other’s families, of responsibilities placed on you from birth. You hold the same values as JJ, and he’s never met another person like you. 

But JJ has a hard exterior. No one other than his best friends know his true heart, and he wasn’t going to let someone like Raymond Easterling find out about his soft spot for you. He would never hear the end of it.

JJ looks at you one last time. You’re talking to Rory, your face in his direction. This time you’re smiling, probably discussing something other than your grandparent’s expectations of you. He’d kill to see that smile every single day.

What’s the worst that could happen? You reject him? Yeah, that might kill JJ inside, but maybe you’d still be his friend, or continue to be acquaintances like you are now. As long as he gets to see you, he’d be okay. There was always the future. But who knows? Maybe you’d say yes? He’ll never know unless he tries. Right?

JJ fakes the same cocky grin that Raymond wears. “I haven’t failed yet.”

The guys around him whistle and shake their heads with smiles. 

“All right, Maybank. Let’s make a bet. I’ll give you one hundred dollars to get Y/N Y/L/N in the sack by the fourth of July.”

JJ scoffs. “You like giving away free money?” He ignored his racing heart at the thought of being that intimate with you.

Raymond nods. “Okay. Let’s put your money where your mouth is. Get her to say ‘I love you’ by the end of the season and I’ll raise you an extra hundred and cover all your dishwasher shifts in September.”

JJ raises his brows with surprise. No one offers to take the dishwashing shift. Sometimes the boys are pulled back there when the kitchen is short staffed and it’s easily one of the worst jobs at the Club.

This bet was almost too good of an opportunity to pass up. “Deal.” JJ says.

The boys shake hands on it and the other guys whisper to each other about how intrigued they are to see this play out.

JJ wipes his sweaty palms against his apron and pushes the door open to approach your table, hoping he can hear you over his thudding heart. 

“Good evening folks. May I take those empty plates out of your way?”

You look up at the voice you know so well and a smile raises on your lips. JJ meets your eyes and he winks at you, splattering your heart in flutters. 

“Please.” Your grandmother pushes her plate away from her, stuffed with filet and red wine.

“JJ,” Your mom grins up at him. Growing up, your mom always had a soft spot for the blonde Pogue. She’s heard the stories about his father, mostly from Steve, who actually grew up with Luke Maybank, his cousin. As a child, he was sent to live with Luke Maybank and his single father. Lets just say, he’s not surprised by the way Luke turned out. “Look at you. You’re all grown up now. Last time I saw you, Y/N was still pushing your head in the sand for stealing her popsicle.”

“Yeah. I quickly learned no one should mess with Y/N and her food,” JJ says.

“Never stopped you though,” You smirk at him.

“Lorelai. Who is this?” Your grandma asks, disregarding the boy himself.

“Mom,” Lorelai gives her mom a warning look. “This is JJ Maybank. He went to school with Y/N and Rory.” Lorelai knew to play it safe with her wording. She didn’t know where you and JJ stood. It’s been so long since you’ve seen him and she knew better than to ask. 

“Nice to meet you,” JJ says politely. “I’d shake your hand but mine are kinda full.” He motions to the plates in his hand.

“That’s quite all right.” Your grandma’s smile is so forced, it makes you uncomfortable. 

“I won’t hold you up. Has your server been around with the dessert menu?” JJ looks at you. “We have chocolate cake tonight.”

Heat rushes up your neck. Not because of the cake itself but because JJ remembered your favorite dessert. Chocolate cake with chocolate frosting and chocolate sprinkles. It was safe to save you were a choco-holic. The boys use to make it for you every year for your birthday. It usually came out burnt, none of them ever remembering how to properly make it. But it was all you needed to feel like a very special girl. 

“Your favorite,” Rory elbows you.

Your grandma cringes. “Sounds like diabetes on a plate.”

“Mom,” Lorelai scolds. 

“What?” She asks, not understanding the concept of a filter.

Now heat rushes to your cheeks for an entire different reason. “He did. We’re not doing dessert tonight. Thank you, though.”

JJ nods but feels disappointed by the way your face flinched at your grandmother’s comment. 

“My pleasure,” He says like he was taught to do and excuses himself to drop the plates off in the back before he can say anything else that would probably get him fired.

Your mom looks at your with raised brows. “He’s cute, honey.”

“Lorelai, please. He’s the busboy,” Your grandma says.

“He’s a good kid, Mom.”

“If you’ll excuse me,” You stand up. “I have to use the restroom.”

Rory gives you a knowing grin as you walk away from the table. When you walk into the hallway between the dining area and the front lobby, you immediately feel like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders. Sometimes just the presence of your grandparents and their pompous judgements can be suffocating. You do your best to bite your tongue around them, excusing yourself when you feel yourself getting heated. 

JJ catches a glimpse of your light blue dress out of the corner of his eye when he rounds the corner to collect the plates off a different table. He looks over his shoulder at Raymond, who’s staring at the blonde watching you, and winks.

“Hey, Y/N,” JJ says, walking up to you.

You look up from your phone and immediately smile. “Hey. I was actually hoping I’d catch you out here.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” You nervously tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. “I’m sorry about my grandmother. She can be...”

JJ shakes his head. “Hey. It’s okay. I work for Kooks almost every single day. I’m use to it.”

You sigh. “That doesn’t make me feel any better.”

“Don’t apologize for something you can’t control,” JJ says. “Besides, that’s probably the nicest she’s ever been to me.”

You hide your face in your hands. “Stop. You’re making it worse.”

JJ laughs and takes your wrists in his hands, slowly pulling them away from your face. Your eyes shoot up to his, immediately feeling a tingling feeling run through your skin, straight to your heart. 

“It’s okay. I promise,” He says softly. His voice is so sincere that you have no other option but to believe him. It almost makes your feel guiltier, wondering how much bullshit he’s been through with ungrateful Kooks that it’s so easy for him to forgive and forget.

“Okay,” Your voice is a whisper, taken off guard by how close he is to you and how he still hasn't let go of your hands. 

In that same moment, JJ realizes he’s still holding you and gently removes his hands. He coughs awkwardly and scratches the back of his neck, where sweat begins to bubble. Why is he so nervous?

“So um...” You say, suddenly feeling nervous too. “You going to John B’s tonight?”

JJ’s eyes shoot up in surprise. How did you know that? “Yeah. I’m heading over there after work.”

“I saw him and Pope at Heywards earlier today and they invited me over. I wasn’t sure if I should come or not.”

“Why wouldn’t you?”

Because it’s different now, you wanted to say. But you didn’t because you feel like the elephant in the room would only grow. And you didn’t want to admit you were nervous to meet Kie and Sarah outside of school. 

You shrug. “I don’t know.”

“You should definitely come. The boys miss you.”

You pretend like a little piece of your heart didn’t just break when JJ didn’t say ‘we.’ 

“What time do you get off of work?”

“Around 9ish.”

You nod. “I can pick you up if you’d like and we could go together?”

Your heart races after you suggest it. What if he says no? Why were you feeling this way? This is the same kid you use to make fun of for pouring milk into his bowl before his cereal. 

“Yeah. That’d be perfect.”

“Great!” Your phone pings with a text from Rory, telling you that your grandparents are wondering where you are. “Shit. I have to get back. I’ll see you at nine?”

“See you then,” JJ nods and turns back to the kitchen. When his eyes meet Raymond’s, he’s reminded of what he agreed to. Almost surprised how quickly he forgot about it. You were able to take his mind off of anything without even trying. He clears his throat to get rid of the giddy grin he was wearing after talking to you, wanting to look tough and casual in front of his coworker. “Easy.” He says to him. But that felt anything but easy. He could vomit with nerves.

“There’s still plenty of time for you to screw up, Maybank.”

JJ huffs. He’s not wrong. 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

You drive up to the front of the country club and park in front of the main entrance. It’s 8:57. You’re early and will look eager. So you wait until 9:06 to text him that you’re here.

You changed into a pair of dark washed denim shorts, a yellow cropped tube top, a grey flannel, and navy converse. You changed your outfit about four times before deciding on your first one, not wanting to look too casual or too dressed up. 

For the last three years, you wondered when the four of you would get back together as a group. You wondered if it would ever happen. And now that two Kooks are involved, you feel more nervous than excited.

You jump when the passenger seat door opens, lost in the depth of your own head. JJ smiles, not seeing your reaction.”Cool ride,” he says and looks around the interior. 

“Thanks,” you say, pulling out into the road.

“I got you something,” JJ says.

You glance at him with furrowed brows. What could he have possibly gotten you since you saw him last? A book mark from the Country Club’s gift shop?

JJ reaches into his backpack and pulls out a plate with clear wrap around it. Your mouth drops when you see the chocolate cake on a plate in his hands, the smell immediately hitting your nose with pure delight.

“You saved me a piece?” You jump in your seat excitedly.

“Had to hide it good too or else Miss Carol would have had my ass handed to me,” JJ jokes and even pulls out two forks. He undoes the wrapping and cuts off a piece. He waits until you hit a stop sign and says, “Open up.”

You look at him and immediately open your mouth. He gently places the fork between your lips and you take the piece of cake off with your teeth. Like a baby.

Your eyes close with pure pleasure. “Oh my god. That’s amazing.”

“Miss Carol does know how to bake a mean cake,” JJ says and takes a bite of his own.

“Another one,” You say, glancing at the cake again. Like you said, choco-holic. “Please.” You say when JJ teases you by holding the fork away from you.

JJ laughs. “I like hearing you beg.”

You slap him in the arm with the back of your hand. “In your dreams, Maybank.”

“You got that right, Y/L/N.”

The two of you finish the cake with only a few bites each. Small but rich in chocolate that leaves you craving more. You were gonna have to meet this Miss Carol woman. 

After he puts the plate back in his bag, JJ reaches for the aux cord, but you quickly slap his hand away. “Hey. What do you think you’re doing?”

“You’re seriously gonna make me listen to this the entire way to John B’s?”

You scoff. “I’ll have you know Blink-182 is one of my favorite bands.”

“It’s also soccer moms’ favorite band,” JJ laughs at you.

You turn up the volume, blasting ‘All the Small Things’ and point to your ear. “Sorry. Can’t hear you!”

JJ rolls his eyes but laughs along with you, even bopping his head to the beat. You drive with the windows down, dancing and singing along to a bunch of throwback songs with JJ as if the two of you have been doing this forever. 

You pull up to John B’s and park behind his dad’s old van, better known as The Twinkie. When you turn down the music, JJ looks at you with a shake in his head. “Next time, I’m driving.”

“What was wrong with my driving?”

“We’re in the Outer Banks, Sparky, not NASCAR.”

You scoff and follow behind JJ who’s leading the way up John B’s driveway. As you get closer, you smell the smoky scent of a bonfire nearby and eventually hear John B’s laugh mixed in with a female’s. Your smile falters as nerves gather in the pit of your stomach. 

“What’s wrong?” JJ asks.

“Nothing,” You say, but JJ easily catches your lie and gives you a knowing look. “What if they don’t like me?”

“Who? Pope and John B? I’m pretty sure they like you more than me even after three years -”

“Not them, you idiot,” You shove him playfully by the shoulder as you two let yourselves inside. “Sarah and Kie.”

“Don’t you go to school with them?”

“Yeah, but we don’t talk,” You say quietly, not wanting them to hear you.

“Hm.”

“What?” JJ shrugs. “Nothing. I just didn’t think you cared about what other people thought.”

“I don’t,” You say quickly. “But they're your best friends. It’s different.”

“You don’t need their approval. You technically were here first.”

“Yeah, but I’ve been replaced,” You try to say it as a joke and even throw a smirk in there. 

But JJ stops in his track and looks at you seriously. “No one can replace you. Not even if they tried.”

You open your mouth to respond, but you’re at a loss for words. It’s not a common occurrence that JJ gets all serious on you. Warmth covers you like a blanket and the longer he holds your stare, the weaker your knees become. 

“JJ! Is that you?” John B calls out from the backyard.

“Yeah,” JJ yells back. He opens the fridge in John B’s kitchen. “Want a beer?” He offers to you.

You shake your head. “No thanks.”

For the first time, you take in John B’s home. It looks the same as it did three years ago, only a lot messier. The pull out couch looks like its been used recently with blankets and sheets tossed about on it. Empty beer cans and cigarette butts are thrown messily on the coffee tables and the air smells faintly of old marijuana. 

JJ leads you out to the back where four people are gathered around a fire. Three out of the four immediately smile when the two of you approach them, but Kie’s eyes narrow and her head tilts with confusion.

Shit, you think. 

“You came!” Pope laughs and hops up from his beach chair and embraces you in a hug.

You laugh, not expecting the embrace, but welcoming it all the same. John B’s next, giving you a quick hug and shaking his head.

“I gotta say, I didn’t think you were going to come,” John B says.

“You can thank me for that later,” JJ says jokingly.

“Actually when I heard JJ was coming, I almost changed my mind and stayed home,” You joke and smirk JJ’s way.

“Just like old times,” Pope says, looking between you and the blonde. The banter felt like the yall never separated in the first place. 

“Hey, you know Sarah and Kie, right?” John B points to the girls. Sarah stands up to say hi, and eventually Kie follows her, not wanting to look rude, but stays off to the side, keeping her distance.

“Yeah,” You wave awkwardly. 

“Hey!” Sarah says sweetly. “I didn’t realize you guys use to all hang out.”

“Y/N grew up down the street,” JJ explains and sips at his beer. 

“You want a drink or something?” Pope asks you, not knowing JJ already did.

“No thank you,” You say again.

“You don’t drink?” Kie asks. It was the first thing she’s said to you.

“Not usually,” You say and hold her stare. You try to get a read on her, but she’s had to get a tell on. You can’t tell if she just doesn’t like you or just doesn’t know you. Either way, it makes you uneasy. 

“Here, I’ll go grab you a chair,” Pope says and walks to the side of the house to grab another beat up beach chair. 

As the night goes on, you feel the tension in your shoulders loosen and your body feel lighter. Most of the night was spent retelling childhood stories the four of you shared. Sarah would laugh at most of them, occasionally rolling her eyes at her boyfriend from the stupid shit he would do, although it sounds like he’s no different to you now. 

You talked about the time you and JJ stole a golf cart for a joy ride on Figure Eight, or when you and John B pranked Pope by putting a dead fish in his locker, or how you and John B learned how to play guitar from youtube tutorials. 

Midnight came around quickly and exhaustion was slowly taking over your body. It’s been a long day between the cafe flooding, dinner with your grandparents, and now this. 

JJ was the first to notice you slowly fading. 

“You okay?” He asks you quietly as everyone else is caught up in conversation. 

“Yeah,” You say, lazily grinning at him. 

“We can leave if you want,” He says.

“You’re not staying?” You ask. It sounded like everyone was planning to spend the night here. And as much as you wanted to, you just didn’t feel comfortable enough yet. 

JJ shrugs. “My dad’s out of town tonight. It’ll be nice to have the house to myself.” Before you can say anything, he stands and brushes his hands against his pants. “All right, losers. We’re out of here.”

“Aw, you’re leaving?” Sarah pouts.

“Yeah, I’m beat and Y/N’s my ride home,” JJ says.

You were glad he didn’t call you out for being tired. You didn’t want to look lame in front of everybody, especially Kie.

“Thanks for having me,” You say to everyone. It might have been John B’s house, but it was everyone’s night you intruded on.

John B stands up to hug you. “Don’t be a stranger, okay?”

You nod. “I won’t. I promise.”

Pope hugs you next. “Text me when you get back safe.”

“I will.”

“Bye!” Sarah waves and Kie exhales a ring of smoke from her blunt.

You wave at them before following JJ back to your car. 

“Nuh-uh-uh,” JJ says. You didn’t realize you both walked to the driver’s side.

“What? No.”

JJ nods and holds his hands out for your keys. “I’m not dying tonight.” 

“You’ve been drinking and smoking all night,” You say. You didn’t think JJ was drunk or even that high, but you were not going to let a teenager with an ounce of alcohol in his system get behind the wheel. “Next time. For now, hold on to the cupholder.”

JJ sighs dramatically and goes to the other side of the car and hops in the passenger seat. 

This time you keep the music quiet, listening to the hum of the radio instead of your phone. 

“Take a left,” JJ says.

“JJ, I know where you live. And it’s not left.”

“Don’t you trust me?” 

You snicker. “Not in the slightest.”

JJ rolls his eyes. “Just take the left.”

You hold your hands up in surrender and take the left turn. He directs you for a couple more miles until he has you park in front of a 24 hour diner. 

“What are we doing here?” You ask.

“I’m in the mood for a milkshake.”

“We just had cake!” You say.

“Come on, Sparky. Show me what that mouth can do,” JJ smirks. 

You go to hit him again but he takes off running to the front entrance and pulls the door open. You chase after him, almost running into his back at the front host stand where JJ safely smirks at you in triumph.

“Two please,” He says to the hostess. 

The old cranky woman leads you to a booth off to the side next to a window without a word. 

A couple minutes later, a waitress walks by and asks if you’re ready to order. 

“Yes. One chocolate milkshake and one black and white milkshake,” JJ orders for both of you, already knowing what flavor you’d want.

“And fries, please.” You say. The waitress nods, takes your menus, and walks off. JJ raises his brow at the extra order. “What?” You shrug. “Just showing you what my mouth can do.”

JJ scoffs. “What a tease.” 

You playfully kick his shin under the table.

“Did you have fun tonight?” JJ asks.

“Yeah,” You answer. “Felt like old times. The girls are nice too.”

You were about to only mention Sarah, but you didn’t want to cause any issues with Kie. Not yet at least. Maybe she just needed time to warm up to you.

“See? I told you they wouldn’t bite.”

A couple minutes later, the waitress comes back with your milkshakes and fries. 

“How’s John B doing? You know, with the whole Big John thing?” You ask delicately, unsure of how JJ would react to you pestering about John B’s business. “I didn’t want to ask and bring the mood down,” You explain yourself although you don’t need to.

JJ shrugs. “He’s in denial I think. Won’t sign a death certificate until he sees a body. He could be worse, though.”

“Yeah,” You say softly. You don’t know what you would do if you were in that situation. In a way you felt lucky that you never knew your dad at all. It would be harder to lose him, knowing who he was.

You take a fry and dip it into your milkshake before taking a bite. This makes JJ freeze and look at you like you have two heads. 

“What?” You say with your mouth full.

“I can’t believe you just did that.”

“Don’t knock it till you try it,” You say and give him a look to do it.

JJ reluctantly picks up the fry and dunks it into his milkshake. He looks at the fry questioningly before popping it into his mouth. Somehow the sweetness of the milkshake and the saltiness of the french fry complement each other beautifully and his widen in pleasant surprise. 

“Oh wow,” JJ says.

“Told you,” You smirk.

You spend the next hour catching up, trying to fit the last three years into an hour. JJ does most of the talking because you want to know more about what John B, Pope, and JJ have been up to. Your life was so boring and depressing, you didn’t want to bore JJ with the details.

You drive JJ home and talk for a few minutes more when you park. He seems to be procrastinating getting out of the car, but you don’t mind. You could talk to him all night, suddenly not feeling tired anymore.

“All right. I’ll let you get home before the sun rises,” He says and opens the door. He pauses when his feet hit the ground and he looks back at you. “What are you doing tomorrow?”

“I have to work at the shop, why?”

“Well, there’s a storm coming in. John B and I might go out to surf the surge before it hits. You still surf?”

You scoff. “Do I still surf?”

JJ holds his hands up in surrender. “Just checking. You think you can handle the surge?”

“Let’s not forget who the better surfer is, JJ.”

“I didn’t. It’s still me.”

“You wish.”

“So I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Now you have a point to prove. You have to show JJ that you’re still the better surfer. 

“I'll see you tomorrow,” You agree. 

“Great, it’s a date.” He winks and shuts the door before you can tell him otherwise. 

You giggle to yourself as JJ walks up the front yard and stay there until he you see he gets in safely. 

You pull out of the driveway, wishing he had asked you out on a real date. One that didn’t involve John B.

Tag list: @super-funky-bisexual​ @sunsetswithjj​ @moniamaybank​ @throwawayfish​ @poguestyle17​ @5am-cigarette​ @jjpouggues​ @fly-away-from-here​ @buckys2thicc​

[unforth]

The 2021 Destiel Favs Survey!

The December, 2020 edition of the Destiel Fan Favorites Survey is now completed! I got 340 submissions, the most I’ve received since the first time I did the survey in 2017 (this is the fifth time). Since the inception of the survey, I’ve received 1372 surveys, reflecting the tastes of those in the fandom at the time they did the survey and completed especially with an eye toward highlighting excellent lesser-known works.

On the latest survey, 336 different authors were listed as favorites! 165 of these authors were added to the list for the first time. Across all five times I’ve given this survey, 700 authors (on the nose!) have been listed as favorites. You can view a list of all those authors, and links to their accounts, here!

On this survey, an astonishing 1,448 stories received a vote!! The majority - 891 works - were added to the collection for the first time, which is absolutely thrilling to me. 253 of the authors of these works had never been listed before, and now know - they’re someone’s favorite. How awesome is that?

Since the inception of this survey, 3,544 stories by 1,365 different authors have been named as someone’s favorite. All of these works are assembled in a collection that you can view on AO3 here! (works that aren’t on AO3 are bookmarked, as are the works of author’s who chose not to accept the invite to the collection; 210 invites are still pending from the 2021 survey; if authors don’t add their works by next weekend, I’ll bookmark them). Alternatively, you can view a list of every work in the collection, and a link to access the work if it’s still available online, here!

By far, the best way to navigate the collection is to go to the AO3 Collection and use the tags searches and filters to find works that appeal to you. That said, I know some people are curious about results. It’s outside my ability to make lists that include every work, and so I do in general compile some of the data and share those who got the “top” results (not in a ranking, only in alphabetical order). If you’re interested, keep reading...

(read more)

if you are having trouble seeing the links on this post, please access it on pillowfort here: https://www.pillowfort.social/posts/1967244

In the past, I've done an annotated "Top 20 Authors" list, where I list (in alphabetical, not ranked) order the authors who received the most votes and every work they have in the collection. I will not be doing that this year. I'll give the top 20 list, but not list all their fics - it's too much, and too many of these authors are the same as previous years. The goal of the Collection is and always has been to highlight the works of authors who don't get as much love and aren't as well known, and I've come to feel the Top 20 list doesn't serve that goal effectively. As such, I will instead be doing a "Rookies of the Year" list, listing 10 authors who have not been on the top 20 list previously, and a "Top New Stories" list, with the 10 most popular stories added to the collection this year.

You can see the past top lists at these links:

January, 2020

June, 2018

March, 2017

I also have done a number of rec lists based on the data, but not since the last two surveys (the collection has grown too big, and I don’t have time any longer). These are also all available on pillowfort.

All lists are in alphabetical order! These are not rankings!

Rookies of the Year! A list ten authors who’ve scored highly for the first time on the survey, and every work they’ve written that received at least one vote in the survey!

Desirae

After the Darkness (Series) (26,438 words, 6 works). Explicit. Archive Warnings Not Used. Canon divergent AU where Dean goes missing.

Angel Bridge (55,944 words). Explicit. Archive Warnings Not Used. Paranormal writer Dean meets Wiccan Castiel.

Autumn in His Eyes (50,452 words). Explicit. Archive Warnings Not Used. Artist Castiel, retreating to seclusion to avoid the paparazzi, meets small-town Dean.

The Bond-Breaker Murders (75,696 words). Explicit. Archive Warnings Not Used. Detective Dean and his partner Castiel hunt a serial killer. 

The Deal (29,094 words). Explicit. Archive Warnings Not Used. Business owners Dean and Castiel meet soon after Castiel’s divorce.

Finding Home (42,828 words). Explicit. Archive Warnings Not Used. Bakery owner Dean and writer Emmanuel aren’t sure what’s drawing them together, but they’re sure something is.

Ghosts (Series) (71,676 words, 2 works). Explicit. Archive Warnings Not Used. Paranormal investigator Dean Winchester doesn’t believe in ghosts and definitely doesn’t believe scam artist Castiel.

I'm the Only (25,121 words). Explicit. Archive Warnings Not Used. Professor Dean and tattoo artist Castiel look back on how they meet.

Lojacked (28,393 words). Explicit. Archive Warnings Not Used. Guidance Counselor Dean is kidnapped days before the anniversary of his marriage to Detective Castiel.

Loved You Forever (Series) (98,896 words, 21 works). Explicit. Archive Warnings Not Used. Mechanic Dean has been in love with his best friend Professor Castiel since they were children, but has never told.

Parking Lot Confessions (3,820 words). Explicit. Archive Warnings Not Used. Castiel gets hit with a truth spell, and Sam learns far more than he expected.

Remember Me After the Storm (47,425 words). Explicit. Archive Warnings Not Used. After a car accident, Castiel doesn’t remember the past 13 years of his life with Dean.

Duckyboos

Bitch Better Have My Money (Series) (247,834 words, 4 works). Explicit. Graphic Depictions of Violence. Dean’s suburban life goes to hell in a hand basket after he meets a devil with the face of an angel.

The Card Cheat (3,101 words). Explicit. Archive Warnings Not Used. Dean and Castiel are hitmen who hate working together.

Chronicles of a Serial Killer (Series) (52,760 words, 2 works, second is a work in progress). Explicit. Graphic Depictions of Violence. Detective Dean Winchester is intrigued by the newest serial killer operating in his jurisdiction.

Dial "M" for Monster (23,809 words). Explicit. Graphic Depictions of Violence. Baker/Vigilante Dean investigates the haunted rooms at Castiel’s motel.

I Only Come When You Scream (Series) (23,117 words, 7 works). Explicit. Archive Warnings Not Used, Graphic Depictions of Violence. Three serial killers meet over coffee.

Interview with the Vampire's Wife (6,040 words). Teen+. No Warnings Apply. A vampire’s wife walks into PI Dean’s office.

Lock Stock and Two Smokin' Winchesters (29,392 words). Explicit. Graphic Depictions of Violence. Boxers Dean and Sam are fucked when they run afoul of Crowley and his prize fighter Castiel.

Murder Ballads (Series) (97,416 words, 3 works). Explicit. Graphic Depictions of Violence. Serial Killer Castiel sets his sites on Dean.

My Whole Existence is Flawed (6,388 words). Explicit. No Warnings Apply. Dean accidentally flirts with Castiel, with whom he had a relationship in high school.

Number 1 Crush (103,891 words). Explicit. Graphic Depictions of Violence. College friends Dean and Castiel meet up with some college buddies just as Dean’s college stalker comes after him.

Stone by Stone (37,269 words). Explicit. Archive Warnings Not Used. Teacher Castiel and student Dean find trouble together.

EllenofOz

Baby Whispering 101 (2,835 words). Gen. No Warnings Apply. Castiel has to bring his daughter to class, but Professor Winchester doesn’t mind.

Bunker Files (30,519 words, work in progress). Teen+. No Warnings Apply. Canon Divergent AU, where the British Men of Letters hear more than they bargained for.

Dark Blue, Dark Blue (36,112 words). Mature. No Warnings Apply. Online friends Dean and Castiel come to meet in person after Castiel’s meatspace life puts him in danger.

A Demon Like Him (24,595 words). Explicit. No Warnings Apply. Warlock Dean isn’t sure if he should work with incubus Castiel.

Drunk Texts and Midnight Snacks (4,589 words). Explicit. No Warnings Apply. College AU. Dean keeps sending Castiel drunk texts...until he stops.

Felix in Aeternum (23,837 words, work in progress). Explicit. No Warnings Apply. Castiel meets Dean at a Halloween festival and learns maybe there’s some supernatural in the world after all.

For a Dream's Sake (28,511 words). Explicit. No Warnings Apply. Canon divergent AU during season 13. Castiel falls into a djinn dream.

Lonely Eden (Co-written with Threshie) (44,091 words). Explicit. Graphic Depictions of Violence. Dean and Sam deal with the aftermath of the Croatoan outbreak until they meet a lone uninfected man, Castiel.

Profound Magic (Series, Co-written with Trenchcoatbaby) (227,233 words, 2 works). Occult student Dean runs into trouble with his strict thesis advisor, Castiel.

Season Z (by multiple authors). (220,673 words). Explicit. Graphic Depictions of Violence. Canon Divergent AU, post season 14, with zombies.

Undercover Angel (Series) (44,716 words, 3 works). Explicit. No Warnings Apply. Canon divergent AU where Dean discovers that Castiel has a panty kink.

emmbrancsxx0

Departure Strategy (Co-written with choranaptyxic) (39,778 words). Explicit. No Warnings Apply. Dean and Castiel meet when Mary decides to contact Castiel’s employers for their help assisting her suicide.

Castiel Novak's Office, This is Dean (121,472 words). Explicit. No Warnings Apply. Dean and Castiel have a one night stand...and then Dean finds out Castiel is his new boss.

Evangelist (334,398 words). Explicit. No Warnings Apply. Wealthy business heir Castiel meets poor Dean.

Five Ways to Wake Dean Winchester (without Getting Shot) (1,598 words). Mature. No Warnings Apply. Canon divergent AU. “Sometimes, Dean’s dreams are violent.”

Halloween Horror (Series) (117,399 words, 4 works). Canon divergent AU. Castiel and Dean discover a haunted house while cataloguing a Men of Letters library.

Ipamis Ol Olpri (56,418 words). Explicit. No Warnings Apply. Canon divergent AU. Castiel and Jack need John Winchester’s blood to kill Michael.

On Falling (996 words). Unrated. No Warnings Apply. “He had fallen, further and faster than any angel before him.”

Saint's Hollow (Co-written with sleepinnude) (43,718 words). Explicit. No Warnings Apply. Five years after Castiel and Dean are estranged, they’re forced to meet each other, and their shared past, again.

The Shawnee Trail (166,094 words). Unrated. Graphic Depictions of Violence. Stagecoach messenger Dean and Doctor Castiel have to deal with outlaws in 1887 Lawrence.

everandanon

All Things in Succession (313,468 words). Mature. No Warnings Apply. A/B/O Dynamics. Omega Prince Castiel is bound to Alpha Knight Dean in an arranged marraige.

At Midnight (8,516 words). Teen+. No Warnings Apply. Dean’s been pining for his best friend Castiel for a decade, and tonight he’s determined to kiss him.

By Any Other Name (6,785 words). Teen+. No Warnings Apply. Dean doesn’t want anyone to see his soul mark...but Sam sees, and tracks down Castiel.

Casicorn (56,649 words). Explicit. No Warnings Apply. Detective Dean gets a new, mysterious roommate.

Expectations (418,319 words). Explicit. No Warnings apply. A/B/O Dyanmics. Omega Castiel is infuriated that his sister is to be wed to the Alpha crown prince Dean, whom they’ve never met.

I'll Be Home for Christmas (3,872 words). Teen+. No Warnings Apply. Castiel’s family has vastly misunderstood his relationship with his college roommate.

Issues (Series) (252,401 words). Explicit. No Warnings Apply. Childhood best friends Castiel and Dean have a falling out that leads to them pretending to date.

Quarantension (129,289 words, work in progress). Explicit. No Warnings Apply. College roommates Dean and Cas quarantine together - strictly platonic, of course (yes, that includes the orgasms).

With Interest (161,935 words, work in progress). Explicit. No Warnings Apply. High School AU. Bad-boy Castiel bets he can make nerdy Dean fall in love with him.

FagurFiskur

All Been Blown Out (1,908 words). Explicit. No Warnings apply. Stripper Dean and mafioso Castiel have sex sometimes.

Anything You Can Do (21,087 words). Explicit. No Warnings Apply. Dean, who is definitely straight (right?), is determined to prove by any means necessary that he’s better at sex than Castiel.

Becoming (4,924 words). Teen+. No Warnings Apply. Dean develops a relationship with the android, Castiel, who owns the coffeeshop down the street from him.

Don't You Cry No More (5,094 words). Teen+. No Warnings Apply. A rewrite of 15x20.

I Leave in My Heart (3,343 words). Explicit. No Warnings Apply. Office workers Dean and Castiel are just friends with benefits...aren’t they?

Make It That Much Better (2,469 words). Gen. No Warnings Apply. Four times people mistook Dean and Castiel for a couple.

The Novak Hickey Mystery (1,540 words). Gen. No Warnings Apply. Professor Castiel’s class isn’t sure how he got a hickey.

Picture Perfect (13,356 words, work in progress). Explicit. No Warnings Apply. Castiel is attracted to a man he sees in an old photograph...and then they meet in real life.

You Start to Grow Wings (10,911 words). Teen+. No Warnings Apply. Dean and Castiel have a relationship when they’re young, part ways, and meet against twenty years later.

LoversAntiquities

Beautiful Mess (12,849 words). Explicit. No Warnings Apply. Dean grows wings, and has to deal with all the issues that arise thereafter.

Dean Winchester: Monster Fucker (30,358 words). Explicit. No Warnings Apply. Cursed Dean finds himself disturbingly attractive to monsters...and Castiel.

Doubting Thomas (40,184 words). Mature. Graphic Depictions of Violence. Two months after disappearing, Dean and Sam appear in Castiel’s garden, and they’ve been made into angels.

Forget the Sky (26,392 words). Teen+. No Warnings Apply. Canon divergent AU. Dean wins big on a scratch off ticket, and he and Castiel go to Japan.

Heart Like a Wheel (24,921 words). Explicit. No Warnings Apply. College student Dean decides to model for Professor Castiel.

If Love Was a River (17,364 words). Mature. No Warnings Apply. Canon divergent AU. Orion is missing a star, and Castiel has fallen from the sky.

A Kite (720 words). Gen. No Warnings Apply. “Two gold bands burn a hole in his pocket - he doesn’t think he can wait any longer.”

Lights (2,671 words). Mature. No Warnings Apply. Pre-canon Dean meets season 5 Castiel.

Lonesome Roads (Series) (12,934 words, 2 works). Mature. No Warnings Apply. Canon divergent AU. Terminally ill Castiel merges with the earth to heal, and returns many years later.

Me in Honey (6,520 words). Explicit. No Warnings Apply. A/B/O dynamics. Castiel goes into heat, and Dean gets more than he expects.

Rooms to Let (Series) (32,962 words, 2 works). Explicit. No Warnings Apply. Hunter Dean finds an angel crucified to a cross.

The Rosary (9,082 words). Teen+. No Warnings Apply. Castiel escapes from a home for stray angels and is found in the forest by a stranger.

The Safest Place (5,312 words). Explicit. No Warnings Apply. A/B/O dynamics. Dean feels the urge to nest.

Through the Mists of Time (Series) (24,689 words, 2 works). Explicit. Graphic Depictions of Violence. Dean is sent back in time 700 years and lands in the bedroom of the handsome Scottish Lord Castiel.

We Fly By Night (15,672 words). Explicit. No Warnings Apply. A/B/O dynamics. Business owner DEan can’t get rid of a strange mark on his arm.

We Gave Love a Chance (5,210 words). Teen+. No Warnings Apply. Canon divergent AU. Team Free Will gets a chance to rest on a Florida beach.

MandalaRose

Cupcakes and Kittens (73,937 words). Explicit. No Warnings Apply. Dean finds himself with an abandoned kitten, and Castiel finds himself in a baking class, and fortunately, they also find each other.

Hot Gym Guys (Series) (18,805 words, 2 works). Explicit. No Warnings Apply. Dean can’t keep his eyes of the sexy owner of Healing Hands Spa and Gym.

Interrupted (5,818 words). Explicit. No Warnings Apply. Dean loves his kids but is ready to do just about anything for some alone time with his husband Castiel.

It's in His Kiss (7,877 words). Explicit. No Warnings Apply. Hockey player Dean gets put on the kiss cam while standing next to his best friend (and secret crush) Castiel.

Netflix and Chills (15,503 words). Explicit. No Warnings Apply. Canon divergent AU. Team Free Will tries to figure out if the coronavirus is Chuck’s next move.

New Holiday (6,258 words). Teen+. No Warnings Apply. A finale fix-it.

Paparazzi (7,004 words). Explicit. No Warnings Apply. Hockey player Dean Winchester gets caught sleeping with billionaire Castiel.

The Shots We Don't Take (56,534 words). Explicit. No Warnings Apply. College senior Castiel hooks up with hockey player and playboy Dean.

Stay With Me (Series) (162,055 words, 4 works). Explicit. Graphic Depictions of Violence. Firefighter Dean rescues injured Castiel from his mangled vehicle after a car crash.

What I Need Most (32,397 words). Explicit. No Warnings Apply. Canon divergent AU. Who does Dean really need most? 

Y Tu Dean Tambien (6,909 words). Teen+. Archive Warnings Not Used. Dean has managed to keep his crush secret from absolutely everyone...except his crush, Castiel.

PallasPerilous

Baby, Baby (728 words). Teen+. No Warnings Apply. Musician Castiel and Engineer Dean meet ugly.

Boneless Wings (4,333 words). Mature. No Warnings Apply. Castiel’s wings aren’t always as sexy as Dean might wish them to be.

Fifty Ways to Lose Your Lover (1,106 words). Teen+. No Warnings Apply. Fix it for 15x18.

Funny Bone (4,933 words). Mature. No Warnings Apply. Canon divergent AU. Dean would give a lot to know why the posed skeleton is admiring his ass.

Occursus (4,341 words). Teen+. No Warnings Apply. Post-canon/15x20 fix it.

Piledriver (1,815 words). Teen+. No Warnings Apply. 15x18 coda.

Twenty Questions (1,246 words). Teen+. No Warnings Apply. Canon divergent AU. Castiel and Sam have a chat about Dean.

tiamatv

(Atypical) Love Story (13,360 words). Explicit. No Warnings Apply. A/B/O dynamics. Castiel is shocked when Dean is attracted to his scent.

Biological Imperatives (or Not) (29,103 words). Explicit. No Warnings Apply. A/B/O dynamics. Charlie convinces Dean to go on a date with her awkward professor friend.

Deference (9,981 words). Explicit. No Warnings Apply. Criminal Castiel makes torturer Dean kneel.

Epistolary (9,408 words). Teen+. No Warnings Apply. Castiel leaves an unexpected note for Dean.

Intangible (13,927 words). Explicit. Major Character Death. Mechanic Dean loses his soulmate, and gets him back as a ghost.

Koinophilia (Series) (31,139 words, 2 works). Explicit. No Warnings Apply. A/B/O dynamics. Dean refuses to talk about why his heats come so infrequently.

The Neighborhood Watch (Series) (31,628 words, 6 works). Explicit. No Warnings Apply. Castiel and Dean are husbands living a happy suburban life.

Nightshade (3,111 words). Teen+. No Warnings Apply. Canon divergent AU. Rowena accidentally feeds Dean a cursed aphrodisiac.

Pigment (1,573 words). Gen. No Warnings Apply. Canon divergent AU. Dean takes up painting.

South Side Swing (Series) (75,859 words, 6 works). Explicit. No Warnings Apply. Dean, boss of the Chicago outfit, runs into trouble with Castiel, head of the Bratva.

Stripes (Series) (32,368 words, 3 works). Explicit. No Warnings Apply. Castiel insists that he and Dean are not soulmates.

Tentacle Husbands (Series) (23,658 words, 3 works). Explicit. No Warnings Apply. Octo Castiel and Prince Dean are happily married.

Top 20 authors over all: aeli_kindara, almaasi, bendingsignpost, castielslostwings, Desirae, Duckyboos, EllenofOz, followyourenergy, komodobits, ltleflrt, MalMuses, MandalaRose, NorthernSparrow, riseofthefallenone, saltyfeathers, sharkfish, tiamatv, tricia_16, whelvenwings, xylodemon

All authors who’ve ever been in the top 20: 60r3d0m, aeli_kindara, almaasi, Annie D (scaramouche), anyrei, bendingsignpost, castielslostwings, CloudyJenn, deathbanjo, Desirae, dothraki_shieldmaiden, Duckyboos, EllenofOz, emwebb17, followyourenergy, imogenbynight, jemariel, jhoom, jupiter_james, K_K_TiBal, komodobits, ltleflrt, MalMuses, MandalaRose, microcomets (formerly mishcollin), MittenWraith, museaway, NorthernSparrow, orange_crushed, ozonecologne, pantheon_of_discord, PersephoneShadow, quiettewandering, riseofthefallenone, saltnhalo, saltyfeathers, SaltyWords (agent4hire22), seperis, sharkfish, thepinupchemist, tiamatv, Trenchcoatbaby, tricia_16, unforth, VioletHaze, violue, whelvenwings, WinJennster, xylodemon, youaresunlight

The Top Ten Newly-Inducted Fics in 2021:

The Care and Feeding of Castiel by MalMuses (24,190 words). Explicit. No Warnings Apply. Canon divergent AU. Castiel starts acting strange.

The Courtship of Combat by bendingsignpost (18,250 words). Teen+. No Warnings Apply. A/B/O dynamics. Castiel lies about his feelings for omega Dean to avoid an arranged marriage by his king.

Cupcakes and Kittens by MandalaRose (linked above)

Bitch Better Have My Money by Duckyboos (linked above)

Fire and Ice by Castielslostwings (189,629 words). Explicit. No Warnings Apply. Firefighter Dean falls into bed with his best friend, EMT Castiel.

A Fish Out of Water by MalMuses (42,966 words). Explicit. No Warnings Apply. Dean goes undercover at Brock Pleasure Ranch and discovers that merman Castiel is less a monster than he’d imagined.

Ghosts that We Know by dothraki_shieldmaiden (89,411 words). Explicit. Archive Warnings Not Used. Hunter Dean could wish that the best partner he’s ever had, Castiel, wasn’t a ghost.

Option C by followyourenergy (63,310 words). Explicit. No Warnings Apply. Dean and Castiel fake a relationship during their senior year of college to get rid of their asshole third roommate Vaughn.

Starstruck by peanutbutterjelly-pie (146,461 words). Teen+. No Warnings Apply. Castiel used to live next door to movie star Dean, but doesn’t think much of it...until he does.

Welcome to Pine Shores! by andimeantittosting (20,901 words). Explicit. No Warnings Apply. After retiring from hunting, Dean and Castiel buy a motel together, and they run it for years, and Dean pines the entire time.

The Top 20 fics of 2021:

And This, Your Living Kiss by opal_bullets

Angel’s Wild by LimonadeGaby and riseofthefallenone

Bitch Better Have My Money (series) by Duckyboos (linked above)

The Breath of All Things by KismetJeska

Cinderwings by bendingsignpost

The Courtship of Combat by bendingsignpost (linked above)

Cupcakes and Kittens by MandalaRose (linked above)

Fire and Ice by Castielslostwings (linked above)

A Fish Out of Water by MalMuses (linked above)

Four Letter Word for Intercourse by bendingsignpost

Not Part of the Plan (series) by Annie D (scaramouche)

Down to Agincourt by seperis

Ninety One Whiskey (series) by komodobits

Riptides by sharkfish

Russian to the Altar by MalMuses

So Says the Sword by komodobits

Stay With Me (series) by MandalaRose (linked above)

A Turn of the Earth by microcomets (formerly mishcollin)

Wild (series) by Castielslostwings

With Understanding by apokteino (not available online)

And may I just say, this is the first year that Twist and Shout didn’t make the top 20 list, and I am thrilled.

All Fics that Have Ever Made the Top 20/Top 10 List:

All Things Shining by Askance (doomcountry) and standbyme

And This, Your Living Kiss by opal_bullets

Angel’s Wild by LimonadeGaby and riseofthefallenone

A Beginner’s Guide to Communing with the Dead by suspiciousflashlight

Bitch Better Have My Money (series) by Duckyboos (linked above)

The Breath of All Things by KismetJeska

Broken Reflections (series) by anyrei and mugglerock

Carnival Oasis (series) by violue

Carry On by TamrynEradani (deleted)

Cinderwings by bendingsignpost

The Courtship of Combat by bendingsignpost (linked above)

Cupcakes and Chlamydia (series) by violue

Cupcakes and Kittens by MandalaRose (linked above)

Dean (and Cas’) Top 13 Zepp Traxx by pantheon_of_discord

The Dean Winchester Beat Sheet by saltyfeathers

The Dick Pic Verse (series) by Dangerousnotbroken

Down to Agincourt (series) by seperis

Fire and Ice by Castielslostwings (linked above)

A Fish Out of Water by MalMuses (linked above)

Flight by NorthernSparrow

Four Letter Word for Intercourse by bendingsignpost

Get a Whiff of This by bendingsignpost

The Graveyard Shift by riseofthefallenone

Hideaway (series) by thepinupchemist

Hooked on Your Love (series) by Ltleflrt

I Wanna Get Outside (of Me) by emwebb17

I’d Do it Over and Over Again (series) by tricia_16

I’d Rather Have You (series) by Ltleflrt

Kiss the Baker (series) by Ltleflrt

The Meaning on My Skin by saltnhalo

Not Part of the Plan (series) by Annie D (scaramouche)

Ninety One Whiskey (series) by komodobits

Oddly Shaped Empty by jemariel

Out of the Deep (series) by riseofthefallenone

Painted Angels (series) by WinJennster

The Path of Fireflies (series) by museaway

Protect and Serve by jupiter_james

PWP: Pie Without Plot by MajorEnglishEsquire and orange_crushed

Redemption Road (series) by multiple authors

Riptides by sharkfish

A Room of One’s Own by NorthernSparrow

Russian to the Altar by MalMuses

Satin and Sawdust by Ltleflrt

So Says the Sword by komodobits

Stay With Me (series) by MandalaRose (linked above)

Traveling Light by sharkfish

A Turn of the Earth by microcomets (formerly mishcollin)

Twist and Shout by gabriel and standbyme

Vagabonds by chevrolangels (formerly amarillogrande)

The Walk (series) by Persephoneshadow

What has Eight Tentacles and Isn’t Allowed to Eat Pie? by Annie D (scaramouche)

Where the Weeds Take Root by deathbanjo

Wild (series) by Castielslostwings

With Understanding by apokteino (not available online)

You Can Keep Holding On by NorthernSparrow

[tripleaxeldiaz]

you’re my living proof my love is alive

for @eddiediaz HAPPY BIRTHDAY MAY <33

read on ao3

“Did you ever think we’d get here?”

Eddie opens his eyes, the shade of the tree they’re under saving him from an assault of sunlight. He’d been dozing off and on, lulled by the warm day and the soft breeze and Buck’s fingers raking through his hair where his head rested on his lap. But something about Buck’s voice — not a sadness, not an edge, but something — wakes him up fully, and he rolls onto his back to look up at Buck’s face. He follows where Buck’s eyes have landed — on their family, spread out around them, absorbed in their own conversations while kids flit in and around them like over excited butterflies. He’s looking at them wistfully and in some sort of awe, and Eddie waits for him to elaborate.

“To the park?” he asks slowly when it looks like an explanation isn’t coming. “It’s like a 10 minute drive from our house.”

Buck tugs his ear, fighting and losing to the smile spreading on his face. “No, asshole. I mean all of this. Our family. You and me. Did you ever imagine we’d get a life like this?”

The breeze seems to blow a little cooler as Eddie takes that in, because honestly? No. All of this, the joy that he’s found here, is brighter and better than anything he ever let himself dream about.

And it’s not that he never thought he’d be happy or filled with some kind of lightness. It just wasn’t a priority — not when he had a team to lead or a marriage to try and fail to fix or a kid to take care of on his own. Everything and everyone else came first because those were things he could handle, tangible things with some kind of concrete solutions, the direct opposite of the amorphous, unreachable discomfort that always seemed to sit right at the base of his skull. And there were moments of joy, especially with Christopher — his smile, his laugh, the way he lit up at any opportunity to learn something new. Those were good moments, great moments, and Eddie treasured all of them, locking them up tight in his heart because they were sometimes the only things that got him through the day.

But still. No matter what, at the end of the day, he’d find himself in bed, surrounded by silence, fighting off the aching loneliness that grew stronger as the sun went down. Only then would he let himself indulge — he’d imagine a dip in the mattress next to him, warm skin begging for his touch, craving that feeling of being wanted by someone else despite the demons and nightmares that still haunted him.

He doesn’t really know if it made the loneliness better or worse.

Moving to LA helped — a fresh start for both of them, more opportunities, no one hovering over his every move waiting to swoop in the minute he made a mistake. He felt lighter, excited even, like maybe now things would actually turn around for him, like maybe he was ready to fill that space that sat in his heart. Maybe Shannon coming back was a sign that she was supposed to fill it the whole time, just like he thought when they were 19.

But then she left, permanently, just as quickly as she came, and suddenly he wasn’t sure of anything his heart or soul was telling him anymore.

So he threw himself back into what he knew best — being there for everyone else. Whether at work or with Chris, his focus was solely on the outside, ignoring any pangs of longing or indulgences because they didn’t matter. A person could only survive so many broken hearts in their lives, and he’s certain that watching the life fade out of Shannon’s eyes with no way of stopping it was the last one he’d be able to handle. It wasn’t a waste, this focusing on other people, and he wasn’t unhappy — how could he be when he had the best kid, the best friend, the best family that he’d cobbled together for himself, that had saved him time and again without even knowing it?

The loneliness lingered, though. It wrestled with the fear he felt so hard sometimes it blew the breath right out of his lungs. He thought he did an okay job of hiding it until Bobby sat him down and told him it was okay to move on, that it was okay to want to let someone in, to not carry the burdens on his own anymore. And he knew that, rationally, but that wasn’t the problem.

The problem was that in the moments when his resolve cracked, his indulgences were no longer faceless. They had broad shoulders and strong arms, a halo of curls and eyes so blue they put the ocean to shame. 

The problem was that this person was real and solid, an unshakeable presence in his and Chris’ world who smoothed out creases and stitched up tears in a way that was helpful, not in a way that made Eddie feel guilty for letting things get creased in the first place.

The problem was that the person his stupid, lonely heart had let in, without his consent, without him even noticing, was the person he knew would shatter his heart into a billion, unrepairable pieces if he ever lost him. 

So he settled instead. 

He found someone who was nice and low maintenance and good with Chris and it was enough. Or almost enough. Or as close to enough as he felt he deserved.

He feels another tug at his ear. “Did I lose you? Pretty sure your eyes just glazed over for like two minutes.”

Nothing he does gets past Buck, that’s for sure, and the knowledge of that warms him better than the sunshine. He reaches up and threads their fingers together, kissing the back of Buck’s hand before resting both on his chest, over his heart. He sighs, eyes slipping closed again. “Sorry. Zoned out for a second.”

“And forgot my question,” Buck says, squeezing his hand. “So did you? Imagine this? Or something like it, I guess.”

He’s better with words than he used to be, can be straightforward with his feelings without breaking out into a cold sweat. But still, these words stick, because years and countless therapy sessions later, he knows exactly how deep the darkness went back then, and he hates thinking about it. Hates remembering the full body ache of loneliness, how dull and bleak it made everything seem.

But also, he can’t — won’t — lie to Buck, and he’s warm enough now, surrounded by sunlight and laughter and Buck’s hand on his chest, that he’s not worried about being pulled under again.

“No,” he finally says. “I didn’t let myself think about anything like this for a really long time. But when I finally did, it was never as good as the real thing.”

Buck hums but doesn’t say anything else. He traces carefully over Eddie’s knuckles and the back of his hand, and Eddie almost falls asleep again. 

“What changed your mind?” Eddie opens his eyes and Buck’s looking down at him now, an intense curiosity in his eyes, like he was just cycling through everything he knows about Eddie trying to figure out what made him believe in love again.

Knowing Buck, he probably was.

Eddie’s happy to save him the trouble. “I got shot,” he says simply, and Buck’s hand finally stills. Eddie reaches up, cupping Buck’s cheek, relishing in the way he automatically leans into his palm.

“I got shot,” he says again, “and you saved me, in every way you possibly could.”

It’s true — it wasn’t the first time a bullet had found a path through him, or even the first time he’d seen his life flash before his eyes. But as he lay there in the street, hot asphalt underneath him, weaker by the second, the only things running through his head were Chris and Buck and ChrisandBuck, and his only regret was that Buck didn’t know — about his guardianship of Chris, about how he made Eddie feel something like hopeful for the first time in years, any of it.

As his vision blacked out, Buck’s face streaked with blood and panic was the last thing he saw, and he vowed to make sure Buck knew everything if he made it out of this.

Of course, nothing is ever that easy. 

After he woke up, with Buck’s name on his lips but Ana’s hand in his, everything became a waiting game. 

He waited for Buck to show up at the hospital, out of breath but still so dazzling, his very presence making Eddie feel like he could run a marathon right then. 

He waited for them to finally be alone so they could talk, but only got through telling him about the guardianship before Buck got a text from Taylor that made him smile so softly the rest of Eddie’s speech died in his throat. 

He waited to break it off with Ana long enough that he didn’t seem like a jackass, waited as Buck and Taylor flew higher and higher before crashing, waited for days and weeks and months, waited, waited, waited. 

But it didn’t hurt. All that time, it wasn’t excruciating, it didn't feel like a waste, because he knew from the minute he woke up that he was waiting for something. He could feel the anticipation burning up inside him, and it wasn’t going to be for nothing this time. 

Finally, finally, just as naturally as they had fallen into each other’s lives the first time, they fell together again — in the dim light of Eddie’s kitchen, empty beer bottles and raw, unfiltered words between them, reliving the day they hadn’t been able to talk to each other about for the past nine months. Eddie’s hands shook and Buck took them in his and Eddie knew this was his moment. 

He looked Buck dead in the eye and said, “You’re the reason I’m sitting here right now, and I’m in love with you.”

The evening air crackled in the silence, and neither of them moved. Eddie was pretty sure even his blood had stopped flowing as he waited, until suddenly everything snapped. 

Suddenly they were both leaning in, suddenly they were kissing and whispering I love yous soft and desperate across each other’s skin.

Suddenly everything began.

He shakes his head a bit as he comes back to the present. Buck doesn’t say anything this time, just smiles and kisses the center of Eddie’s palm where it’s still resting on his cheek, tangles their fingers together again before placing them back on Eddie’s chest. 

“You saved me too, you know,” Buck says quietly. “I wasn’t the one who got shot, but still, you did. You always do.”

“Always will,” Eddie says, because it’s true, and the easiest promise he’s ever made. Buck is his hope, his light in the dark, every other cheesy cliche, and Eddie will work for the rest of his life to make sure Buck feels safe and loved. It’s the least he could do for all that Buck has given him.

They lapse back into quiet, enjoying the sounds of the park and their family, and Eddie feels something he's been too afraid to name until now, a holdout from years of guarding himself.

He’s happy. Truly, with no caveats or strings attached, unbelievably happy. 

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

dark place, m | myg

pairing(s): yoongi x reader

summary: Min Yoongi is a man with no recourse, looking into the depths of an empty bottle. He’s in his dark place now and there’s no end to the darkness. The only one who holds the light is you, the other with your own dark place, the one he drove away. You shouldn’t have come.

warnings: mentions of attempted suicide; depression; former (toxic) lovers; rated M (18+) for language, alcohol consumption; heavy angst; smut (fem reader, f and m-receiving oral, tit fucking, penetrative sex)

--

“Hey.”

He must be seeing things. This couldn’t be real.

“You smell like alcohol.”

He did. He did smell like alcohol. He reeked of it. Because he was alone. Because he was thoughtless. Because he was empty, just like the whiskey bottle in his hand. Because he wanted to go to heaven, as soon as possible, and maybe, just maybe, if he drowned himself enough, he could part the sea of his own tears, walk across them, and never come back to this version of himself.

You pushed the door open, just a little. He relented, stumbling back. You stepped inside quickly, catching him. He pushed you away and you let him, sighing softly. You closed the door behind you and stepped out of your heels, watching him wobble into his apartment, almost tripping, almost dropping the bottle.

“Yoongi.”

Min Yoongi paused, swaying. You watched his form, waiting.

“Who sent you?”

His raspy voice was grating and accusatory.

“Hoseok.”

For a moment, you thought he was going to hurl the whiskey bottle. Instead, he just crumpled, sliding to the floor slowly, a mountain of black. Black hoodie, black sweatpants, black hair.

A long time ago, you had asked him the question. The question that drove you two apart, the question that you knew the answer to, but asked anyway. Back then, you thought nothing was more painful than limbo.

“I can’t.”

Those were his words to you at the time.

You took a few steps in, bending down to take the empty whiskey bottle from his limp hand. He wasn’t asleep, but he wasn’t trying to stay conscious either. You were in your black slacks, black vest, and white dress shirt. Your bartending uniform. You knelt down and gently took him by the arms. He tried to fight you, but it seemed more like he was fighting himself. His whole body was shaking, pale face paler and gaunter than before. You dragged him to the bathroom, to the toilet.

He vomited.

You waited, him crouched over the toilet bowl, emptying his stomach of the liquor.

You told yourself you would never come back here. Jung Hoseok called you many times, asking you to come. Asking for help. And every time, you told him you couldn’t. That you weren’t ready. Hoseok pleaded with you, begged. Said you were the only one who understood, the only one who could even fathom what was going on in Yoongi’s head. And every time, you said you couldn’t. Because of what he said.

I can’t.

Then neither can I, you had thought to yourself.

You heard Yoongi choke a little and reached up to pat his back. Ran your hand over it, feeling his bones under the thick fabric, feeling his shivering. He flushed the toilet and you lifted him, righting him in front of the sink. He bent over it, rinsing his face, washing out his mouth. You didn’t say anything. Watched him brush his teeth and rinse some more.

You didn’t look at the mirror. You didn’t want to see your own face. If you didn’t see yourself with him, then maybe it would be like you never came. Like you were never here. Like you never gave in.

“I’m afraid he’s going to kill himself.”

That’s what Hoseok had told you. And you knew you shouldn’t have come, because when you’re in that place, no one can help you. No one can hold you. And you knew that. You knew that, because years and years ago, before you met Yoongi, before you even knew love could exist…

You had stood there, in that dark place.

That night, in that garage, covered in gasoline, you stood there, shakily holding that match. You really thought that was the end. You really thought, this was the way. Not simple, easy, effective, but full-on suffering. You thought you deserved that. You were young then. You didn’t know there were easier ways. You just wanted it to end.

Yoongi lifted his head. You could tell that he was looking at himself in the mirror, looking at that dark place. You knew there was nothing you could say. Nothing to do but stand there.

When two people are in that dark place together, the relationship can’t last. The relationship can’t breathe, because even if you’re in the same place, you both got there in different ways. Both of you would try to heal the other with words that never worked, because neither of you understood how you got there in the first place. You knew that now, much too late.

Yoongi turned around. You could see it, reflected in his dead eyes. The same scene you saw when you were standing in that garage that night so long ago.

“Why did you come?” he rasped.

You smiled sadly and told the truth.

“I don’t know.”

He looked down, at your clothes.

“You look dumb.”

You chuckled wryly. “I thought you liked formal wear.”

Yoongi frowned at you. His dark circles were even worse now.

“You look better naked.”

You shrugged. “I might get arrested on my way here if I did that.”

He scoffed, the side of his mouth raising a little. He pushed himself off the sink and tried to brush past, only to sway and descend against you, sliding down. You reached out and wrapped your arms around his shoulders. Even though Yoongi was taller than you, his body felt like nothing. You stood there. He was breathing raggedly.

“I haven’t eaten.”

“You never do when you’re…”

You were about to say, like this, but you trailed off. You had the same habit too. That’s how you knew you were slipping back to that dark place.

Yoongi shuddered, leaning his head against your stomach. “I bet you were never like this after…” He trailed off too, not saying it.

“I was. In a different way.”

“Not anymore, though.”

There was a long silence.

“You learn to pretend.”

He stiffened at your words. “Don’t give me hope.”

You narrowed your eyes even though he wasn’t looking at you. You scowled. “You were the one destroyed it all.”

He lifted himself away from you. Broke out of your grasp. He was kneeling, staring at the floor.

“I know.”

You felt the anger come back. You wanted to scream. If you knew, why? If you knew, then why would you do this to me? Why would you ruin everything? Why would you say, I can’t? I can’t. The words that haunted you every night, every day, every waking second, and every nightmarish dream. But you didn’t cry. You didn’t start. Everything was apathy.

“Do you love me?”

You thought you were mishearing things. You thought your thoughts had come to life and spoken to you. For the first time, you looked into the mirror, into your own eyes. Your own dark circles. Your own face, gaunt and sickened from lonely nights. Was this some kind of cruel joke? Some kind of twisted déjà vu? You huffed in disbelief and looked down, down at the black curled-up form of Min Yoongi. Had he really, just now, said those words to you?

You crouched down. He wasn’t looking at you.

“I can’t.”

He flinched a if he was slapped. Then, very gradually, he turned his head to face you. Staring at you, with those empty, hollow dark brown eyes.

You exhaled deeply. “Hurts, doesn’t it?” you whispered.

He nodded, slowly. “Yeah.”

You knew why he said it back then. Depression. You were both in that dark place. Neither of you fully understood why the other was there. Both of you used it to manipulate the other. Both of you used it like poison, puppeteering the other into the kind of love that was only based on pity, on fear, on sadness. And both of you knew it was wrong, it was terrible, and it was not the way to live. It was not love. And when you finally pulled the word out to him, he pushed you away, either from self-loathing or to protect you. Maybe both.

You sat down on his bathroom floor, looking into the eyes of the man you loved. And maybe they were the same as yours. You didn’t know. You kept yourself busy with work, taking double shifts to forget everything, working your body until you ached and collapsed in bed every night.

Yoongi’s face was completely blank.

“You shouldn’t have come.”

You wanted to hold him. Touch his face, tell him it was okay. Tell him you would always come back.

“There’s nowhere else to go,” you replied.

He was hurting. Hurting so very much. Yoongi stared at your face, at the spirit that he knew he broke, at the heart he knew he shattered. He inhaled deeply, closing his eyes.

“I should have one more.”

“You know you shouldn’t.”

Yoongi turned his body, swallowing hard. His legs fell open, one knee up, the other on the floor. A familiar position, where you used to crawl up to and sit with him. But now you sat across from him, unmoving.

“I can’t do anything.” His voice was a cracked whisper, despairing. “I can’t compose. I can’t write lyrics. I can’t think of anything new. Everything sounds like shit. Everything is shit.” He smacked his head against the sink cabinets, brows furrowing. “My muse left me.”

He opened his eyes, slowly. Slowly. You weren’t crying. You just looked at him, heart aching.

“You told me to leave.”

His eyes shifted down. He wasn’t really looking at the floor. He was looking somewhere else, into the dark place.

“I know.”

You knew it would hurt you. You knew his voice, caked with remorse and shame, would hurt you. You knew and yet you came anyway, running at Hoseok’s panicked tone. You also knew, as Yoongi held his hand out and touched your face, brushing his fingers against your cheek, that you shouldn’t have come.

“I’m sorry.”

Because you knew it would be like this. So genuine and real, the way he said it, intoxicated, on the edge and hating himself. You knew because you were capable of the same thing. And yet you let him pet your cheek, tucking your hair behind your ear. Yoongi studied your eyes, your mouth. He leaned forward, pink lips parting.

You wanted it to be different. You wanted to hold your hand up to stop him. You wanted to be the voice of reason. You didn’t want to get hurt anymore.

But you let him kiss you because, in the end, you were weak too.

He pressed his lips against yours, a little minty from the toothpaste. You inhaled softly, breathing in that familiar smell. He still reeked of alcohol, but there was his own scent too, the scent you loved, the scent you dreamed about. His familiar taste. He leaned in more, crawling to you, cupping your face, lips molding to yours, his gentle breath against them. His tongue slipping out, licking yours. And you knew, with every second, that you were digging your own grave, but you let him because he was falling apart and maybe he was just using you an excuse to not think anymore.

Maybe that’s all it was.

Yoongi’s hands dragged down, finding the buttons of your vest. Pulling them apart, opening it up. He pressed his palms against your chest, nipping lightly at your lips. You breathing hitched, pushing your head back against the bathroom door as he kissed down your jaw, your neck, to the collar of your white shirt. You bit your lip as he undid each button, kissing every bit of exposed skin. You tried to tell yourself to stop him, but he was already pulling your dress shirt out of your pants, pushing it down to expose your bra.

“You still wear front clasp bras.”

You shrugged. “Easy access.”

Yoongi looked up at you, eyes in pain. “For who?”

You looked at the floor. “No one, anymore.”

His deft fingers undid the clasp.

“Was it only for me?” Yoongi murmured, spreading his fingertips on your breasts, pushing the cups aside.

“Everything was only for you.”

He paused. Your chest was fully exposed, shapely breasts with perky nipples poking out at him. He was between your legs, having spread them apart to move downward. Still fully clothed. Yoongi lifted his head, scooting back up to your face. His dark eyes found yours. He pressed his clothed chest against your naked one, forehead against yours.

“I’m hurting you.”

Your hand came up and petted his dark hair. Ran your hand though his dark locks, holding him close.

“That’s okay,” you breathed against his lips. “I know why.”

His large hands slid up your naked back, eyes closing. He turned his head to kiss you again, harder this time. Hungrier this time. Trying to tell you he was sorry for being this way, sorry it was like this, sorry he couldn’t stop. His nails dug into your back, dragging down, and you gasped, breathing into his mouth. He moaned, rolling his body into yours. Rubbing his hoodie into your nipples. You whimpered as the thick fabric stimulated them.

Yoongi pulled back a little to yank his hoodie over his head, dragging the white t-shirt underneath with it. He placed his hands on your waist and drew you into his lap, pulling your shirt and vest off, placing you two back in that familiar position. He was thin and pale, as if he hadn’t been outside for a long time. You leaned down and kissed him, soft kisses on his lips and cheeks, hands on his shoulders. He whispered your name and you whispered sweet nothings, holding him to you as he kneaded your breasts. Gently feeding his ego, falling into a familiar pattern. He smiled up at you, rubbing his thumbs against your nipples, making you moan.

“Has anyone else touched you?” he murmured. “Anyone else since that time?”

Even if someone had, you wouldn’t have told him. “No,” you breathed, gasping as he tugged gently at your nipples.

“I couldn’t think about anyone else,” Yoongi mumbled, pressing his hands into your breasts again, cupping them. “Your body is like a drug.”

You smiled into his forehead. “It’s a pretty normal body.”

“No, it’s not.”

His hands slid down to your waist, nails scratching into your sides. You hissed, arching your back. He continued, clawing at your sides, leaving red marks as you squirmed, throwing your head back as he teased your erogenous zones.

“It’s the body I remember,” Yoongi purred, tilted his head up at you, watching you fall apart. “It’s the body I loved, the body I continue to love, the body I will forever love.”

You wanted so desperately for it to be true, but there was no point in asking now. You clenched your jaw and panted, pleasure prickling up to invade your thoughts, each a blooming spiderweb over your doubts, your fears, your reason. You saw Yoongi’s lips part, trembling as he watched, becoming just as aroused as you.

“Look at you.” His voice low and gravelly, familiar. “You love it when my hands are all over you, don’t you?”

His nails scratched up your back and then back down to your sides, over and over, crisscross marks into your skin like an animal, marks you used to stare at in the mirror and rub yourself to, thinking of him.

You looked down, breathing hard.

“Always.”

You reached for your slacks as he continued, your body shaking with pleasure, unbuttoning them, unzipping them. His hands dragged your pants and panties down, stopping because of your spread thighs. His nails came down to your ass and you moaned, grabbing his shoulders, wishing you were stronger, wishing you were better, wishing depression wasn’t a forever contract. Because you were weak when it came to Min Yoongi, weak when he pushed you to the hallway, yanking your pants down and shoving them aside, weak to him spreading your legs, dipping down.

You sighed in pleasure as his tongue touched you, daintily pushing your slick folds aside, hands on your hips, holding you still as he breathed into your heat.

“Ah, Yoongi…”

His name, so cruel and beautiful, leaving your lips as he closed his eyes and played with your clit, teasing the bundle of nerves with the tip of his tongue. Just take the pills and the dark place will go away. But it never went away; it just found more creative ways to break you, and you had shared it with no one but the talented tongue beneath you, the tongue that greedily lapped at your clit, so fast and hard that your spine arched, hands on his, every muscle tensing.

“Y-Yoongi, you feel s-so good…”

And you knew it was wrong, you knew you had to stay away, for your sanity and his, but it was too late, too late as he pushed you over the edge, sucking on your clit and licking fast. Your hips bucked and it poured out of you as you pressed your head against the floor and moaned his name again, eyelids fluttering as he sucked it out of you like a vampire, moaning into your pussy, your orgasm like honey, coating his tongue. He fucked you with it, feeling your walls close in on his tongue as he pushed in and out, scooping out more, drunk on you.

Your chest rose and fell as Yoongi continued, softer, licking every little bit out of you. When he was done, he crawled back up to your face, lips swollen and glistening, kissing you deeply, thrusting his tongue in your mouth. You could taste yourself, whimpering as he fucked your mouth with the wet muscle, his saliva sliding into your throat.

You felt wetness on your face. You opened your eyes a crack and tears clung to his lashes. Your hand slid up his back, tangling into his hair. Pulling him closer, kissing him deeper, sucking on his tongue. You realized his eyes were open too, watching you, aware that you had seen, but you only held him tighter, closer.

He broke apart, his exhale heavy against your skin, your name so delicately forming on his lips.

“Can I take you to the bed?” Yoongi asked quietly. Trembling, afraid.

“Yeah.” You nodded. “Please.”

He got up and extended his hand. You didn’t have to take it. You didn’t have to hold it. But you did, hand fitting perfectly into his, grasping tightly, letting him pull you up. He swayed a little and you smiled, tipping his head towards you to press your nose to his.

“Haven’t you drunk too much?” you teased lightly, intertwining your fingers.

He scoffed as you two began to walk to the bedroom. “Are you implying something?”

“No, not at all.”

Yoongi frowned at you and pushed you into the room, shedding his sweatpants. “You should know I have a high tolerance.”

“You face is still red though.”

You sat onto the bed, facing him, backing up with your hands. You knew how much space was between you and the headboard. You knew where his pillows were. You even knew the feeling of his sheets on your bare body.

Yoongi’s eyes went to the floor. He walked over to his nightstand, opening the drawer.

“Maybe it’s red for a different reason.”

You chuckled as he took out a condom, pushing down his boxer briefs. His cock popped out, semi-hard, tip glistening with pre-cum.

“It’s not me, since we’ve had plenty of sex,” you remarked off-handedly.

He climbed onto the bed, still not looking at you. You slid down, opening your mouth. He stiffened as you wrapped your lips around his cock, closing your eyes as you swiped your tongue over the head. You groaned at his familiar taste, sucking all over, feeling him swell in your mouth. You pressed your tongue against the bottom of his cock, rubbing from side to side, making him suck in a tight breath.

“It is you.”

You opened your eyes, slowly, his cock still in your mouth.

“Because you came back and I don’t deserve that.”

You blinked up at him. Yoongi sunk his teeth into his lower lip, sighing softly.

“And I’m getting hard, even though I’m not supposed to,” he hissed, voice thinning. “And I still want you, even though I’m not good enough.”

You pulled your mouth off him and took him by the waist, dragging him to you. Pulling him as he resisted you feebly, reluctantly. You made him get on top of you, his cock hitting your breasts, wetness dripping everywhere.

“I’m not good enough either,” you said apologetically. “I guess we both suck.”

You pressed your breasts together, trapping his cock between them. He moaned softly, using his own hand to push his cock into your cleavage, rocking his hips back and forth. It should have killed the mood. It should have ruined everything. But it didn’t, either because both of you were incredibly fucked up or too fucking horny to really care anymore as Yoongi humped your tits, covering you with your own saliva and his pre-cum, rolling his hips into your chest.

“So soft…” he groaned, pressing the head in between your breasts. You rubbed your nipples as you held him tight, moaning with him, staring into his dark, cat-like eyes filled with lust, his black hair framing his slightly rounded cheeks, lips dark pink from pleasuring you.

“You’re still the sexiest man I’ve ever seen,” you murmured, knowing he wouldn’t believe you, knowing he didn’t want to believe you.

He chuckled, drawing his cock out from between your breasts. “You always say that. Your eyes need checking.”

You touched your chest, skin sticky and rapidly getting cold. “I’m offended.”

Yoongi shook his head at you, unwrapping the condom and sliding it on. A small smile danced on his lips as he grabbed your thighs, spreading them. How many times had you fought for that smile? How many times had you prayed and hoped that smile would stay, always? And how many times were your dreams shattered as the darkness always came back, dragging you both down into it?

Yoongi positioned you in front of him, one leg onto his shoulder, one leg around his waist. Slowly, slowly, pushing into you, a soft sigh escaping his lips, eyes closing as he felt you envelop him and pull him in, pulsing around him.

“You’re still so fucking tight,” he groaned, shuddering. “How can I fuck anyone else, knowing you’re this tight and this good?”

He went all the way in, hitting your deepest parts. Yoongi always fit you perfectly and you always clenched around him, controlling your muscles. It was sinful with how good it was. He slid out just a little and pushed back in, making you whimper, your legs tightening around him. He dug his nails into your thighs and dragged them over your skin. You gasped, clutching his sheets, feeling his cock throb inside you, tongue tucked in his cheek as he focused.

“Y-Yoongi…”

He smirked. “Can’t get that anywhere else, can you?”

You smiled back, raising an eyebrow. “Not sure, dildos these days are crazy.”

Yoongi laughed. Laughed and made your heart stop. His teeth and his gums flashed as he threw his head back a little, a little dry and raspy, the same laugh you remembered. His dark eyes went to your face, still gripping your thighs, realizing what he had done. You looked away quickly, not wanting to ruin the moment.

He jerked his hips sharply.

“Hey, I’m still dick-deep here. Pay attention.”

You scoffed and turned back to him as Yoongi leaned down, pressing your leg down to get a higher angle. He rolled his hips into you, grinning as you moaned, your other leg tightly around his waist. You flexed your muscles and he sucked in a tight breath.

“Fuck…” He thrust again, harder this time, shuddering as he felt you squeeze him. “You’re so fucking wet and tight.”

You pressed your head into the pillows as he began to fuck you, really fuck you, hard and fast and powerful, the Yoongi you remember, the Yoongi who clenched his jaw and fucked you so hard that you were gasping for breath, clutching the sheets and moaning as he hit all your deepest parts, making the bed squeak in protest. Your eyes found his and he watched you, pink lips parted, bruising your hips together.

“Fuck, I love the way you sound,” he mumbled, brows furrowing as he increased his pace. You whined, tipping your head back, exposing your neck. “All those sexy noises you make. Fuck. I could cum listening to only your voice.”

“Y-You have…” you gasped. “You’d call me at work, demanding me to g-get you off…”

He grinned. “And you’d always complain about getting in trouble as you fingered yourself in the bathroom.”

“It could have happened,” you hissed. Yoongi leaned in even more, lifting your ass from the bed, thrusting even harder.

“Might still happen.”

Your heartbeat skipped, but then you orgasm crashed down, making you wail loudly as your pussy convulsed around him, massaging his entire length as you shivered, hips jerking involuntarily. He chomped down on his lower lip, swearing as he roughly pounded you, determined not to cum yet, determined to get one more out of you.

“Come on, darling,” he purred, killing you slowly with your old pet name, murdering you with his deep drawl. “Give me another.”

He lifted one hand and swiped at your side, igniting pain once again. You cried out, slamming you head back into his pillows, hips raising to meet his. It made his cock bury deeper into you, unforgiving and unforgettable.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” you hissed, his breath hot against your skin, his sweat dripping onto your chest. “Fuck, Yoongi, why is your cock so fucking gooood…”

Your eyes rolled back into your head and you wailed his name, loud and clear, radiating off the walls, a familiar noise to these walls, a familiar scene. He sucked in a breath and rammed into you, gasping as he came, cock twitching against your walls as you felt his entire body tremble as he orgasmed, chest shuddering against your leg.

It took you two a moment to untangle yourselves, comprehension sinking in. Yoongi climbed off you, condom in hand, going back to the bathroom. You laid in his bed, closing your eyes, ribs rattling with shaky breaths. You shouldn’t have come. You knew this would happen. And you knew what would happen next, because you got up robotically, empty inside, wishing you could be stronger, knowing you would have to go to the hallway and the bathroom to collect your clothes and then go home, go home and pretend nothing happened, go home and pretend you were okay, even if nothing was okay.

Nothing was okay.

You stared down at your stomach. His red marks, crisscrossed all over you. His scent, painted on your skin. His taste, all over your lips. His arms, wrapping around you, pulling you to him, holding you tight.

“There’s no home without you,” Yoongi breathed against your skin.

Your eyes looked away, into the dark place. You visited there less often now, but still; it was there. Always waiting. Always coming back.

“Do you love me, YoongI?”

The question, so long ago.

I can’t.

You braced yourself for the answer.

“I do.”

The sound of rain.

“I love you.”

--

masterpost

-

if you have visited the dark place always remember, it is only a visit. long visit, short visit, but still, only a visit.

[whaleofatjme1920]

Searching for Hidden Things (Ticci Toby X F!Reader)

Searching for Hidden Things

[Ticci Toby X F!Reader]

[Warnings: it's kinda sad? Language, blood but only slight.]

[AN: Another good one from Eris]

You are convinced that your home is haunted now more than ever. While you are not particularly ghost believer inclined, as a witch, your mind is open to these kinds of happenings but that’s not your field of study - you’re much more inclined to herbology and green witchery as opposed to medium and seership into other planes of existence. The natural, real world is what you are focused on. Not some spectre that happens to like little knickknacks that you don’t even claim ownership to.

How on earth did you end up here?

Simple. Fresh out of college and working from home, you decided to leave your stuffy city and come out to the countryside to get back into nature. It took forever to find a place that piqued your interest, but a small town smack dab in the middle of Alabama. You’re almost dead certain there’s barely five thousand people in the area. Though, you hardly stick around long enough to find out.

You only dip into town in the evenings and get the groceries that you can’t grow. Let’s just say you really enjoy living off the land and that practice helps you further your own craft. It’s anything a hedgewitch might dream of. The people that live here are pleasant, but they’re silent.

It was a normal evening visiting your favorite curiosity and occult shop run by a sweet girl and her partner who have come to expect you weekly on Saturdays. You usually stay for tea and a cupcake or whatever baked good Zinnia and Briar have set up for you, and it is from one of these little sit downs that you found out your home isn’t exactly normal.

“It’s so nice to see you again, love bug!” Briar smiles widely, their arms opening to greet you.

You smile back and walk into their arms and hug back just as tightly. “I could never miss tea time with my two favorite curio owners,” you chuckle.

Zinnia pops out from the back, her hands are covered by oven mitts. “I just made some brownies! Also have some angel food cake from last night. Come, come. Briar? Get the tea,” she says as she rushes to the back to set up the table in the sunroom.

Briar nods and puts their hand on your upper back, guiding you to the back. “My wife thought you would’ve liked the angel food cake. She’s been talking about it all night,” they explain, a giggle on their lips.

Zinnia is buzzing around like a bumble bee while her partner attempts to get her to sit down. She’s a good host, you’ll give her that. This is your fourth sit down with them and she’s like this every time.

“Reader isn’t going to care about the plates-” Briar attempts to say before getting shushed by Zinnia.

“I like being aesthetically pleasing,” she says as Briar absentmindedly ties her curly black hair into a ponytail. “Unlike you,” she giggles.

You roll your eyes playfully at their sweet gestures. “Aesthetically pleasing or not, those brownies and the cake look delicious.”

“See? Reader gets it,” Briar lightly ribs before bringing the tea to the table, Zinnia following close behind them with platters and plates. “So,” Briar hums. “How is your place?”

You begin pouring yourself some tea and shrug. “I don’t think I ever mentioned it to you, have I?”

The couple shake their heads as they get comfortable in their seats. “Where have you put your boots down?” Zinnia inquires.

“There’s this little house in the woods,” you begin to explain before sipping at your tea. “Had a great garden and was already furnished, asked the realtor and she practically threw it into my arms.” You put down your tea cup and cut a brownie for yourself before raising a brow at the couple’s shocked and slightly confused expressions. “What’s wrong?”

Briar blinks a few times before shaking their head. “It’s nothing! Just, it’s the house in the woods?”

You nod in confirmation. “The house in the west woods, near the pond with water lilies?” You continue in an attempt to further their understanding, getting the feeling there’s something you don’t know but should. “Guys..?”

“S-Sorry,” Zinnia suddenly says. “It’s just that…” Her eyes shift around for a few moments before she leans in close, as if she was telling you a secret. “That house is haunted.”

Your eyes go wide before you laugh. You laugh and laugh and then when you realize they’re silent, you blink. “Wait what? Why do you say that?”

“Someone used to live there a few years ago, we moved in after her… disappearance,” Briar explains. “She just,” Briar makes a poof shape with their hands, “like nothing. No trace, no leads, the house was empty but everything of theirs? Still there.”

“Who was the person that lived there before?” You ask, intrigue kicking up before you bite into the brownies and then try the angel food cake. Zinnia was right, you do like it.

Briar shrugs, “we don’t know. Whispers say it was the girl named Natalie. She kept to herself but from the people I’ve talked to so far - at least, those who would talk about it - said she was sweet and spunky.”

“Guy at the grocery store, Mr. Wu? He said that Natalie was his regular. They were friends,” Zinnia adds on. “He used to visit her house every now and then and said near the end, her behavior got kind of squirrely. One night, he went to visit her and saw her running. Of course, guy is like seventy, got scared and ran back home. Called the police over it. They got there? Nothing.”

You nod as you listen to them give out their theories on what might have happened to Natalie. It’s one of the most interesting things you’ve heard of since you moved in.

When you returned home, you couldn’t help but shake the thought you were a guest in what used to be Natalie’s home. Your hands flew over the slightly dusty shelves and found it wrong to really touch anything that might not be yours. There’s books about boring things, encyclopedias, general knowledge, young adult fiction, but nothing that tells you who she was.

As you stand with your arms crossed in your living room, you search for the things that were left from her. Your room is entirely yours, you’ve already managed to find a room and clear it out for your witchy things, the kitchen was empty and there is no basement. This house is small, more like a cottage. If there were any signs of who she was, they’re not easy at making themselves known.

All you have to go off of from her is the living room and is undoubtedly Natalie’s and not yours. The shelves and other knick knacks are things that don’t match your aesthetic at all. Seems she was fond of the color green, just not plants like you are.

It’s by the living room that you’re able to learn some things about Natalie, even if they’re minute. For instance, you can tell that either she likes costumes or she’s missing an eye due to a small box of eyepatches varying in color and design. She’s got a frew petal pressed flowers - tulips - and last you checked, that meant a declaration of love according to the standard Victorian language of flowers.

You know absolutely nothing about Natalie other than her name and that she may be missing an eye and that she has tulips, but she permeates your mind like a virus that refuses to go away. You’re entranced with her, and want to know more of her.

When you work on sigils, you make one for her and put it in the corners of the front windows and in the doorframe. You wonder if she’s out there, and if she is, if she’s safe. If she is, you hope the runes and sigils you’ve made for her will keep her that way.

One evening at the grocery store, you have the privilege of being able to speak to Mr. Wu when ringing up some craving you’ll know you’ll inevitably have.

“Natalie?” He hums as he rings up your items. “She was a nice girl,” he continues. “Very kind, had a good sense of humor.”

You furrow your brows and smile sympathetically at him. “I’m sorry for-”

“It’s no matter,” Mr. Wu brushes off. “I don’t know what happened to her, and I’d like to think she’s still out there,” he begins checking the register for the total. “I’d like to think that when she was running, it was towards better and away from whatever it was she couldn’t get here..” His old, weathered hand reaches out to show you the total on the screen. You notice he’s put on a 50% discount. “On me,” he smiles.

Ever since then, Natalie has consumed your thoughts entirely.

So, how does this all tie into a little sparrow figurine going missing? You think it’s haunted. Genuinely. Have you angered Natalie’s spirit by messing with her house? You’re not so sure. You don’t communicate with spirits, though you’re considering picking up a pendulum and attempting.

Ever since you’ve heard about Natalie, things in your house have been getting moved or straight up lifted. It doesn’t help that you hear, no, you think you hear, things outside lurking around your home. Spiritually, you’ve protected the place more than you think is necessary. The not deer, skinny legends and Wendy boys really shouldn’t be knocking around her mostly because the place is just one giant protective bubble. Still, as you sit up late in the night and look at the moon as it reflects the water from the pond and the peer through the darkness of the trees that hang much too low, you know something is out there that shouldn’t be.

This has all come to a head when you wake up one morning to see that the sparrow figurine is gone. It makes you startle and almost drop your mug in response.

“How the hell..?” You say as you stare at the empty space. Its little circular base has left the real shade of the wood it sits on open. The dust has accumulated around it. You saw it here just yesterday! Little brown and tan sparrow and now it’s gone.

On instinct, you open your front door. It was still locked, and it doesn’t seem that anyone came in. But you know that you didn’t move it either. You haven’t touched any of Natalie’s things, you wouldn’t because you’re worried you’re going to upset her spirit or something. Who took it?

Unfortunately, that’s not even the first time it’s happened. A few days later, the little robin is gone too. Now you are absolutely convinced your home is haunted.

Of course, you call up one of your friends who also practices witchcraft like you do to see what you can do about making amends with a spirit. He’s a death witch - he should know.

“Wait what?” He says, his voice conveying nothing but confusion.

“You heard me,” you sigh as you plop down on the couch. “I think she’s been like, taking things because she doesn’t trust me with them?” You say in a slightly confused tone.

“But you really haven’t moved anything in the living room, right? From the pictures you sent me, you left that space as hers. She shouldn’t be upset considering you never touched her stuff.”

“But these figurines are still missing. How did they just get up and go?” You ask in a slightly exasperated tone, staring at the empty space.

“Y’know what you should try?” He begins, a small audible smile on his face. “Find something personal of hers and return it to her. Maybe she’s looking for something and is just settling.”

“Do you have a protocol for that or..?” You trail off.

“I’ll send you a page from my grimoire, sounds good?”

Here you are, late at night, not able to sleep and looking for something personal of hers. You don’t think it’s anything out in the open that she wants because why would she want that? It’s in her line of sight. You’ve practically turned up your home looking for it - her home? You’re not sure what kind of terminology you should use in regards to this house, but you know you’re hellbent on finding something, anything of importance to her home.

“Come on, Natalie,” you mumble to yourself as you head to your bedroom and begin overturning things. “I just need something of yours, help me make it make sense,” you say. “Natlie, Natalie, Nat, Nat-” and immediately after that nickname tumbles from your lips, you get the overwhelming urge to check under your bed.

Like a mad woman, you dive down to the floor and begin pulling your storage boxes out from under it. One of them snags slightly, and when you tug on it, you pull. Odd. You tug even harder. That’s when part of the carpet comes up. You raise your brow and shove the box out of the way before crawling under yourself and use the flashlight on your phone. It’s dark, a little dusty under here, but you clearly know someone has been under here before.

Your fingertips creep around the edge of the odd piece of carpet before you pull it up, seeing that it’s already been cut up. And there, you feel a handle.

“Oh my gods,” you mumble creeping further under the bed before yanking at the small handle. It doesn’t give right away. In fact, it makes you bump your head from the sheer force of trying to open it. It’s almost as if it was a secret and you’re violating the parties who knew it existed. Still, you continue to tug on it before it finally pops open. You move your phone over to see that there’s a box with the lid loosely placed on. Your hand gently reaches in and scoops the box up. You hold it like it’s glass. “Thank you, Natalie, thank you,” you mumble as you roughly and awkwardly crawl out from back under the bed.

You sit on your bedroom floor now, your phone now forgotten as your fingertips gently trace the box. You mentally ask for Natalie’s permission to open it and when you get the feeling of something warm, like a hug, you do so. Inside the box that you gingerly open, you see that there are letters, letters upon letters in a writing addressed to her.

“Can I read these, Natalie?” You ask softly, your eyes scanning over the one you hold in your hand dates from a few years ago. You feel that warm hug again, and the night alights with songs from the birds on the pond. You know you have her permission.

‘March 16, 20XX. Dear Natalie, how are you? I just wanted to apologize for the other day. I shouldnt have left that soon, but you know hoy my dad is. Anyways, just wanted to check in. Hope to see you soon.’

‘March 22, 20XX. Dear Natalie, I wasn’t actually expecting you to get back to me after what happened! I - thank you. Things have been just fine with me, but I miss being in Alabama. No reason, just miss the woods by your place.’

‘May 5th, 20XX. It’s funny you mentioned that, I saw something last night that reminded me of you too. Y’know how you’re always going on about time and being punctual? The other day, me and my comrades were walking through an antique store. Whole bunch of clocks. Made me think of you:).’

You keep reading the letters and piecing together the story of these two as it picks up through the years as general friendship to something more. This person that Natalie was writing to told them a lot of things - everything from the general happenings of the day to more quieter, intimate things (that you tend to skip over out of respect for Natalie.)

Reading the letters to Natalie becomes a daily occurrence for you. There’s so many that you decide it wouldn’t be right to read them all in one day. So, you read two a night and piece together their story, learning of their love and finding out just who they were. Natalie left some letters that she never sent to her love, mostly the ones that she must have considered duds or the angry ones that she decided not to send when her fire had died down. What? All couples go through those patches. It’s whether you can fix it and get back on the road or hitchhike with another driver that determines the outcome. And them? They loved each other so much, looking at another driver to get to their destination was never an option.

It takes months for you to get through the letters. Even reading two a day, it’s hard to get through a few years worth of content. They wrote to each other often. You’re able to see the full spectrum of emotions from them two, even if you’re on;y reading the letters addressed TO Natalie and not from her (for the most part). You read them smiling, and can hear their tears alongside their laughter. They no longer feel like names on paper, but real, once breathing people.

Eventually, you reach a letter that finally completes the story as you know it. It’s dated from right around the time you know Zinnia and Briar moved in. It explains a lot.

You know that whoever Natalie’s love was working for was NOT a good man. He struck the fear of the gods into them. He was called ‘The Operator’ and apparently had eyes everywhere despite being faceless. The way Natalie’s love writes about him has you feeling chills down your spine. Them too, because it was enough for them to want to run away. Natalie’s love was called a proxy, and from what you can understand, that means he’s a person who does work for someone else because they don’t want to get directly involved. The Operator treats those who work under him like cattle, and nothing more. He was a scary, scary man, and the society he runs is one you know is not intertwined with yours.

The letter that’s in your hands is the last one before their escape it seems.

‘August 31st, 2018. Dear Nat, are you nervous? I’m nervous - you can probably tell by my writing. Tonight we leave everything behind. We run. I hope you know that it’s never too late for you to back out. Because after this, we can never go back to what we used to. I’m so sorry that being around that tall fuck-but did this to you - and shit, by extension, me. I’m so sorry for hurting you, but this is it. This is it. This is the final stop.

Who knew that me striking up a conversation with a cute girl behind the counter of some hippy’s coffee shop would lead to a love like ours? You mean the world to me, Nat. I’m more and more thankful every day that I think about you and receiving your letters has me up to the moon. If you asked me about this kind of thing before I met you, I would have told you that I would never have gotten rid of the proxy lifestyle for a human. Humans are… Well, according to the Operator, they’re dangerous. They’re not worth us.

But you? Oh gods, you? You changed everything. You made it worthwhile. You came into my life like a splash of color in a world so grey and cold and bathed me in warmth until I could reciprocate your love and make room for it to grow. I love you, Natalie. I love you so, so much. After tonight, we won’t ever have to worry about this - the space and the distance between us. No more hiding. No more secrets. Just us and our transparency.

I love you, Natalie. I love you so, so much. I’ll see you tonight, backdoor as per what is our usual. To the moon and back! Love, Toby.’

You don’t know why, but Toby’s letter makes you tear up. It’s like you can feel exactly how Natalie must’ve felt when she received it. The tears that prick your eyes roll down your cheeks and you can’t help but take a few moments. You’d always known their story ended with something sad due to the whispers in the town, but getting confirmation that Natalie ran… It didn’t work. It just didn’t work.

You’re wiping away your tears when you hear your backdoor get thrown open. No one comes out to your neck of the woods, and it makes you panic. You can’t find your phone - dang it! Must’ve left it in the kitchen. You scramble around your room as you hear whoever just broke into your house walk confidently without a care in the world to the living room.

“W-Who the f-fuck lives here n-now?” You hear a male voice mutter as they pass your bedroom door. “A-All this w-w-witchy shit,” they continue.

You mentally huff. Rude. You then quietly slink around before grabbing a large chunk of amethyst. It’s rough to the touch and weighty, and unfortunately, one of the only things you have as a weapon now. Your heart is pounding as you quietly move through your hallway to the living room.

“Where i-is it?” He continues mumbling to himself as he tears your living room apart.

You’re able to see him by the faint light of the moon. He’s got brown hair and twitches slightly. Is he nervous? He’s still tearing up your living room though and touching Natalie’s things, and that's unforgivable in your head. So, you raise your chunk of amethyst pillar and quietly creep behind him.

He turns around to look at you, genuinely surprised someone is here when you whack him as hard as you can with the chunk of amethyst. “Are y-you fucking s-serious?!” He yells as he pushes you back.

You look at him with confusion as you back up, still clutching the amethyst before you notice that he didn’t react in the way he should. You hit him really, really hard and in the back of the head. He’s back up and glaring at you like you mildly inconvenienced him. And now? Now he’s pissed and looking at you like he’s going to kill you. You notice that he has hatchets on the sides of his waist.

“C-Come here,” he taunts, eyes narrowed and slowly closing the distance between you.

“Stop,” you shout in an attempt to command him back. “I will hit you-”

“With t-that?” He sneers.

“I swear to the gods I will-”

He looks like he’s ready to pounce when he suddenly stops, a certain sadness and pause rushing over his body and his face as he looks at the letters in your hand. You’d honestly forgotten you were still holding them.

“Where d-did you g-g-g-get those?” He asks quietly, his shoulder dropping.

“What?” You ask, surprised he can do an impression of a human being.

“Those l-letters! They’re n-not yours!” You pull back hard when he tries to grab them from you and swing the amethyst at him and sneer when he ducks. “They’re not yours either!”

“T-The hell t-they aren’t! I-I wrote t-t-them!” He shouts back.

You immediately deflate. “You’re Toby?”

He freezes and flails his arms slightly as if to ask nonverbally, ‘you read those?’

You sigh deeply and rest your hand on your forehead before you rest your arms down slowly, showing that you’re not going to fight him. It’s a pleasant surprise that he slowly copies your movements. “Do you know how a keurig works?”

He nods slowly.

“Make us some coffee. We got a lot to talk about.”

“So, t-t-that’s why you’re here,” Toby hums as he dumps another unholy amount of sugar into his coffee cup. “I-I thought y-you were some s-squatter in Nat’s h-house,” he admits with a small chuckle before scratching awkwardly at the back of his neck.

You take in a small breath and nod, a small smile pulling your lips upwards. “This is what you were looking for, huh?” You say as you push the box full of memories towards him.

He puts the cup down and takes it into his hands carefully before hugging it to his chest. He then takes in a deep breath, relaxing. “Y-Yes, this is t-them,” he says quietly. “That’s a-a-all I really w-wanted.”

“And the little figurines?” You hum, a knowing smirk on your face.

Toby flushes slightly and nods once more. “T-They just r-r-reminded me o-of her.” He then places the box in front of him and leans back, his eyes blinking upwards towards the ceiling before he stares up at the ceiling. “I lost h-her that n-night,” he says, voice so soft and scared as if he’s reliving it.

“Toby…”

“That w-w-was our thing, y-y’know? W-We were gonna b-b-be free. My b-b-boss found out,” Toby hisses as he picks one of the letters up and gestures with it, “a-and he s-sent my own c-comrades to…” He closes his eyes to stop the tears from welling within them.

-

Natalie was grabbing her backpack from her room with everything important when Toby came to the doorway and smiled at her. “What’re you doing here?” She chuckled, her green eye flashing with amusement. “Thought you were gonna be getting stuff ready in the kitchen and watching the door.”

“Just d-don’t like being a-a-away from you,” Toby said, a small smirk on his face as he came up to Natalie and brushed a long strand of brown hair from her face. “You’re s-s-such a p-pretty girl,” he complimented.

Natalie blushed slightly and took his hand that rested on her cheek into hers. “Go. I’ll be fine in here.”

“W-Whatever you s-say, p-princess,” he teased before pressing a kiss to her forehead and hesitantly leaving her side.

Natalie rolled her eyes with that smile never leaving her face as she continued getting the last of her things ready for the leave. When she was absolutely certain she was ready to go, she slid the backpack on and headed to the living room. She was ready to go and start a new life with Toby, the only man who ever made her heart skip a beat.

“Are you ready?” She asked, her arms wrapping around Toby’s waist as he finished his cup of coffee.

“S-Sure am,” he replied before turning around and wrapping her in his arms. “You g-gonna miss t-t-this place?”

“Absolutely not,” Natalie laughed. “I can’t wait to get out-”

What happened next was pure chaos. The back and front door were both breached by men in masks, and Natalie quickly deduced that they were Toby’s comrades. His boss found out. Toby reached for the front table and palmed his hatchets and swung them at the man in the white mask.

“Run!” Toby shouted, pushing Natalie towards the open front door. He watched his heart run out and shake off the backpack to gain speed as she took off into the night. Masky hit him, but he did not flinch.

“Fucking hell, Toby!” A gruff voice shouted.

The young proxy then watched in horror as a flash of yellow zipped out into the night to chase after Natalie. Toby felt worry cloud hsi every movement as he dodged and hit Masky. Hoodie’s specialty was tracking and hunting. He had to get out there to help Natalie.

Toby took a step back then ran into Masky as hard as he could, slamming his leader into the floor before attempting to brutalize, but not kill him. When he was sure that Masky was going to need a moment, he shot up and sprinted out of the house and into the darkened forest to find Natalie. He must’ve prayed the entire time he ran.

He ran over the heavy forest growth and cursed the roots that almost tripped him before he felt his world go quiet.

Natalie was screaming.

Toby heard his name cried out in the trees and his heart sunk down to the forest floor as he ran wildly to the source. He felt hot tears as they rolled down his cheeks as he finally found that same damned hue of yellow waiting for him.

“Was wondering when you’d show up,” Hoodie mused as he dug his boot onto Natalie’s skull, making her cry out in pain and fear. Her arms reached out for Toby, his name permanently on her lips.

“You f-fucking bastard!” Toby roared as he lurched forward, attempting to beat Hoodie within an inch of his life when something hard smacked into the back of his head. Toby turned around to see Masky. His brown eyes were full of murder as he stalked towards Toby.

“I should kill you for this,” Masky sneered as he got within arm’s distance of Toby.

Toby glared and swung his hatchet again at Masky, now out for blood when Hoodie slammed his boot back into Natalie’s skull, a crack sending Toby into a fury.

“You won’t touch him if you know what’s good for you,” Hoodie said, his hands loosely hung in his pockets. “Leave him alone and focus on your girl.”

Toby felt chills down his spine as he turned his full attention to Natalie. “My g-g-girl,” he whispered as he fell to his knees to hold her. “M-My s-sweet, sweet g-girl.” His hands shoved Hoodie off of her skull, giving her room to breathe. After that, he turned her over on her back as she cried out in pain. He rested her head on his lap and let her sob.

“Toby,” she croaked in a voice like sandpaper. “Toby, it hurts,” she cried, hands reaching out to his face.

“I know,” he said as he gripped her hand. “I k-know, baby, I k-know.” Tears were pouring from his eyes just to see someone he loved in such pain. “It’ll b-be over soon, I p-promise.” His other hand that wasn’t being gripped by Natalie’s went to pet her hair and give her some comfort.

“Over real soon,” Masky huffed. “You better finish this.” Masky continued. “Or I’ll make Hoodie put a bullet in her skull.”

Toby sent another glare up to Masky and protectively held onto Natalie just a bit harder to not cause her physical body anymore pain.

“We need to run,” Natalie whispered as she reached up to hold Toby’s face. “We can still go-”

Toby hushed her as his eyes scanned over her body. She was beyond repair. Hoodie had broken her legs and bent them at angles that should not exist. “You n-need to r-rest, okay? W-We’ll go in t-t-the morning, I p-promise.”

“You do?” She asked, her beautiful green eye beginning to see the world more in shapes than in

“Y-Yes,” Toby promises. “Have I e-e-ever broken a p-promise to y-you?” He hummed before leaning down as best he could to kiss her forehead. “I l-love you, s-so, so m-much.”

Natalie sleepily giggled and allowed her tears to cascade down her face. “I love you too. To the moon and back?”

“T-To the moon a-a-and back,” he said as the grip she held on his hand weakened.

“Toby, my Toby,” she said softly, her voice growing softer as she repeated the words like a mantra. When her breathing slowed until it was nothing, her hand went limp in Toby’s.

Toby closed his eyes as his heart fell into millions of pieces. He refused to let Natalie go that night, and his teammates, who had acted on behalf of a father who did not love them, let him.

-

“A p-part of m-me died with h-her that night,” Toby says as he lovingly looks over the letters. “I still c-can’t breathe r-right without her.” He closes his eyes and allows his tears to fall. “I d-don’t think I e-e-ever will.”

You get up from your seat and pick it up, silently moving it to rest next to Toby as he begins to cry. You know he must’ve held this one in for so, so long. After planting your chair down next to him, you take him into your arms and allow him to cry.

Toby holds onto you and doesn’t let go. It’s like he views you as a comfort blanket or a teddy bear. And you let him. You let him get it all out.

You feel tears well in your eyes and let them fall too.

[wlntrsldler]

okay hear me out the cardigan, betty, august love triagle to reader x fred x angelina i've been thinking about it since folklore came

PROMPT: based on cardigan, betty, and august by taylor swift (an installment of my taylor swift x harry potter series. to read more about it, click here) Y/N and Fred see each other after 7 years and she finally lets him know that she knew that he cheated on her with Angelina all those years ago. (fred lives au lol)

also my submission for @wand3ringr0s3‘s 1.9k follower writing challenge! 

“i knew it was too good to be true.” 

“was in love with you. was.”

WC: 1.5K+

WARNINGS: infidelity, angst

HARRY POTTER MASTERLIST

-

cardigan x betty x august (f.w one shot)

“Why did you leave?” 

You froze in your spot when you heard those words come out of Fred’s lips. The party behind the two of you was still in full swing— a party where his sister and her groom were celebrating their undying love for one another; Unbeknownst to them, just a few feet away, was the dying breath of another love. 

You turned to face the man you’d fallen in love with all those years ago. You thought about the years you’ve wasted pining after Fred Weasley, dreaming of him like he was the one who put the stars in the sky. He was your safety blanket, one to cover you with a sense of comfort and belonging in a way that nobody was ever able to. He clouded your judgement until you didn’t know right from wrong anymore, and yet, not once did he take advantage of his hold on you— because he’s a good man. 

And you hated it. 

You hated how even though he was the same man who made you doubt in the power of love; even though he was the man who haunted you in your darkest hours; even though he was the man who laid beside a woman who wasn’t you, tangled in the white sheets while he was supposed to be devoted to you; you still knew he was a good man. 

“You don’t get to ask me questions,” you breathed out, shutting your eyes tightly. You couldn’t look him in the eye, not while his eyes are flaming with anger and suffering. 

“The hell I don’t!” he exclaimed, stomping over to you. His tone was harsh, but even that couldn’t mask the quivering of his words. “Why did you leave me?” 

You finally opened your eyes, after feeling his breath tickling your skin, “You left me first, Fred.” 

His eyebrows furrowed, genuine confusion evident in his features. Fred gulped, blinking a few times, not expecting that answer, “What are you on about?” 

“Angelina Johnson.” 

And just like that, Fred felt his knees grow weak. 

His face paled, all color draining from his once red cheeks. He knows exactly what you were talking about. But he wished he didn’t. 

“Y/N,” he began, his voice turning into a broken whisper, “I-I can explain.” 

“No need,” you dismissed, staring at your feet. You kicked around the grass, sending small pebbles to ripple across the garden. “It’s been years, Fred. It doesn’t matter anymore.” 

“Obviously, it does,” he insisted, stepping closer to you. He couldn’t help but shed a tear when you took a step back. 

You shyly looked at your fingers, unable to look at him in the eyes once more. It has been seven years since you found him sleeping soundly beside Angelina Johnson, right before the war. You confessed your feelings for him a few hours before that night, even going so far as kissing him under the moonlight before you went off to fight in the battle of Hogwarts the next day. You didn’t speak to him the entire time and you left without another word once the war was over. 

“Can we talk about this?” 

“No, Fred,” you hissed, not even bothering to wipe the tears that were falling from your eyes, “Do you know how many times I’ve cried while we were still at Hogwarts because people would whisper about how bloody pathetic I am for being madly in love with you? You daft git! I would’ve done anything for you, Fred. Everyone but you could see that.” 

You grimaced as you continued, “Do you know how it feels to confess your love for someone and then finding them in bed with another woman not even a day later? Do you know how it feels to lose your best friend and the one you love all in a blink of an eye?” 

“Y/N, listen-”

“No, you listen,” you exhaled. In that small moment of silence, you faintly heard the crowd chanting, “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” and you felt so guilty having this conversation during two of your closest friends’ magical night. You looked at Fred, “I was so happy that night, you know? We’ve been best friends for ages before that and you always told me that I was deserving of love. I never believed you until that night because Merlin, if I’m deserving of Fred Weasley then maybe I am deserving of love.” 

“You are,” he squeaked, trembling like your words were daggers stabbing him. 

You ignored him, “I felt so stupid after seeing you with Angelina because then I knew it was too good to be true. I couldn’t even bring myself to confront you about it.” 

“I-” you chuckled humorlessly, throat beginning to close up, “I wanted you, Fred. A-and obviously, you belonged to someone else and I just… I couldn’t be there anymore. I couldn’t be here anymore! How I managed to still be friends with Ginny or visit Charlie in Romania when I was there for work— knowing full well that I saw you every time I looked at them— without bursting into tears, I don’t know! But I left for me, Fred. I needed to put myself back together again.” 

“Y/N, if I had known you’re in love with me-”

“Was in love with you,” you corrected, although you didn’t know if what you were saying was the truth, “Was.” 

He flinched but continued, “-was in love with me, then I wouldn’t hav-”

“Wouldn’t have fucked her?” 

Fred faltered, your words twisting the knife that was already buried in his chest. He nodded sadly, “Yeah.” 

“Fred, you would’ve done it anyway.” 

“No, I wouldn’t!” he pleaded, rushing over to you. “I wouldn’t because I was in love with you! I’m still in love with you! Had I known you weren’t just saying that because we were going into war, I swear Y/N things would’ve been so different.” 

“Please save it,” you placed a hand on his chest, keeping him at arms distance. 

He grabbed your hand, bringing it to his lips as he peppered kisses to your knuckles. His tears touched your skin, the warmth of it making you shudder. You pulled your hand that he held closer to you, wanting to feel him near you, even just for a moment. You watched in despair as he murmured apologies into your skin. 

His eyes were closed, eyelashes touching the scar on the crease of your index finger. Fred looked at you through blurred vision, eyes red from crying and pleading. You couldn’t hear anything else but his sobs, the sounds from the wedding long forgotten. Fred whispered, not knowing if you were even listening to him anymore.

Please. Please. Please.

You stared at the boy in front of you in all his glory, vulnerable for you. Subconsciously you stroked his cheekbone with the pad of your thumb, humming as he nudged his face into your touch. Fred’s bottom lip quivered, twisting his head to kiss your palm. He whispered again.

Please. Please. Please.

“Freddie,” you finally spoke. You felt his lips twitch to a smile at the way his nickname still sounded so smooth rolling off your tongue, so sweet like honey. 

“Hm?” 

“I want to forgive you.”

“So please forgive me,” he said so softly you almost didn’t catch it.

You pulled your hand away, holding it close to your chest. You stared at each other, taking in each other’s presence for the first time in seven years. He looked more mature. The years you’ve spent apart were kind to him. He looked more handsome than ever. 

You stared at the scar on his eyebrow— the one that he got when he tried to teach you how to fly in your third year. You stared at his eyes— the same ones you used to dream about waking up next to in the morning. You stared at his lips— the ones that you had the pleasure to feel on yours on that forsaken night. 

“I want to forgive you,” you echoed, allowing yourself to bask in his presence one last time, “But I can’t, Fred.” 

Silence. 

“You-” you paused, collecting yourself before continuing. You looked up at the sky briefly, letting out a shaky breath, “You broke me. I have spent years trying to fix myself. All those years apart, all I’ve done is try to forget you but you’re everywhere, Fred. You’re the person in my dreams and in my nightmares all together. Everything reminds me of you.” 

“And I’d be lying to myself if I said I don’t love you because I do,” you confessed, now looking at him intently, “I fear that I’ll always love you. I fear that I’ll always be tied to you. I fear that you’re probably the love of my life and I hate the part of me that still hopes that you are.” 

“Because if love is supposed to feel like this— if love is supposed to hurt like this— then I’d rather not love anyone for the rest of my life,” you began to quiet down, wiping the tears on your cheeks. You started to walk back to the party, deciding that you’ve missed too much of the night already, “It was good to see you, Freddie.”

Fred watched as you retreated back to the party, a fake smile plastered on your face. He stood there in the dark, crying silently and blaming himself for the mistake he made seven years ago, as he watched the love of his life give up on him.

-

tags: @rexorangecouny