#truly my tagging system is a fucking nightmare

[sabraeal]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love ❤️

As I said on my first fic rec post, I have written very many fics and I love almost all of them, so I can't pick FAVORITES so much as CATEGORIES, and this category is going to be "Fics Joanna Made Me Write Outside My Comfort Zone Because It's Good For Me Or Something"

Whenever I view the moon on the battlefield This was the FIRST fic I wrote outside of ANS fandom, and if that was not already out of my usual groove enough, it's also from the POV of one of the minor characters in Hakuouki, Shimada Kai. The concept was originally conceived while I was streaming a playthrough for the obiyuki discord-- Yamazaki (our best boy) and Shimada are both spies and spend quite a bit of time off screen, so we kept running into scenes and being like "how AWKWARD is it for those two to be watching this right now?" And so when it finally came time for me to throw my hat into the yamachi ring...Joanna asked for THIS to be the fic. You know. Instead of one where Yamazaki and Chizuru actually kiss or whatever. Sigh.

The Most Perverse Creature in the World Listen. I know there are people out there who LOVE xReader fics. I'm happy for you, truly. I am not one of them. But after answering the fandom fuck/marry/kill game (otherwise known as only one bed/slow burn/enemies to lovers) with small littler blurbs about the kind of story I would write for the older gentlemen in ANS (Shidan, Lata & Haruka), SOME PEOPLE got very invested in Haruka's little enemies-to-lovers blurb. Some people made puppy eyes. Some people made puppy eyes and then got very sick after, and I AM A GOOD FRIEND and wrote ONE CHAPTER and have never known a day of peace since. Six years later it's up to thirteen chapters, has a very complicated plot involving the politics of taxing oral sex, and I've learned how to effectively write in 2nd person.

don't speak boyshit I cannot properly explain how absolutely in our heads the Maria/Kamitani pairing is, but like. It's good okay?? Joanna did not so much force me to write this one so much as like...emphatically encourage its existence, to the point where I have a very complicated outline and she routinely reminds me I'll finish it when i'm like. 50. But this is certainly the gateway fic to the OTHER fics for this pairing she DOES want to twist my arm over, SO ON THE LIST IT GOES. I am one of TWO authors in this ship tag, and also one of TWO fics...and yet this is one of my most popular non-ANS fics 🤣

If the Mind Is Willing This is a fic Joanna will HAPPILY admit to being the main driver for, since, as she puts it, "there is no one else who could possibly ever write this fic." Taking TWO very niche concepts (LARP and a SURPRISE FOR LATER) and a very niche pairing (yamachi) would perhaps not have been MY first choice...but Joanna asked for the first chapter as a birthday gift a few years back and here I am, learning a whole new tabletop system and really giving my FBI agent something to talk about at the watercooler.

He Who Studies Evil Of all the niche fics Joanna has convinced me to put to paper (or at least, word document), this is probably takes the top spot. A prequel to my obiyuki Star Trek AU, this covers events about 10 years previous, with Haruka taking over DS9 and immediately being thrown into a political nightmare when he is informed that the Cardassians are in possession of a missing human child. This took...an INORDINATE amount of time to research and write-- I hadn't seen DS9 since I was in high school, and I watched through nearly half a season just to get the timeline right-- but I still REALLY love how it came out. Which is good, because it is definitely one of my least read fics 🤣

[ashesandhackles]

8 TV Shows

Thanks for the tag @yletylyf <3 <3

Rules: list eight TV shows for your followers to get to know you better! 1. Buffy the Vampire Slayer Years, years ago, I sporadically watched earlier seasons of Buffy and enjoyed it for the campy fun they were. And then I watched, "Innocence" - Season 2, episode 14 and I was obsessed with Buffy Summers. Buffy Summers is that one character of all time for me - she is heroic, aspirational but she is also flawed and messy and so delightfully complex. I love her and I forever have a soft spot for Sarah Michelle Gellar for playing her.

2. Fruits Basket

I first read Fruits Basket as a manga, saw the first anime adaptation and the reboot came out during the pandemic. Fruits Basket is a very important piece of media to me because of the way it tackles abuse and the nature of systemic abuse. The show/ manga's ideas of rehabilitative justice were truly ahead of its time. Also the anti hero of the story is my all time fixation - Shigure Sohma.

3. Inuyasha

Another long running manga turned anime. Something about this series turns me into a nostalgic goo. It's probably Rumiko Takahashi's brand of characters, where there is something interesting going on with each of them. But my forever love from the series is Sango, the girl who crawls out of her own grave <3

4. Fushigi Yugi

I greatly dislike the main lead in this anime, I great dislike the romance in this series but my heart went out to the antagonist, the main lead's once best friend Yui Hongo. And if this series wasn't so enamored with its ridiculously cheesy and tiresome main romance (i do not have enough criticism for how truly bad it is, believe me), it had decent worldbuilding and politics. A fact that the original manga author knew and corrected with her spin off prequel - the vastly superior manga Fushigi Yugi: Genbu Kaiden (with likable main heroine! an intense romance that never takes over the plot!). She is currently writing Fushigi Yugi: Byakko Senki and I am curious to see what she does there.

5. Nana

Nana is about my early 20s life lol. Co-dependent, almost romantically charged friendship with a roommate/best friend? Check. Misogynist, controlling boyfriends? Check. Intense but fucked up relationships? Check. It's like this show reached into my heart and displayed it to the world.

6. Shadow and Bone

I'll be honest: my interest in the show is largely due to the fact that I have read the Six of Crows duology and loved those books. I only read the original Shadow and Bone series recently, just so I can keep with the main plotline in season 2 and boy, the original trilogy is very poor lol. The only thing that has bones of something interesting is Darkling and his relationship with Alina, and watching Season 2, I feel the show writers aren't comfortable tapping into that. Too much time moralising "this is bAd!!" - lol, yes we know. It is very childish finger-wagging writing, and it's very boring and not at all reflective of human experience (Shadow and Bone writers need to watch Nana to understand how to write abusive relationships without making it look like they are doing 'Toxic Ex Boyfriend for Dummies'). The reasons why Crows shine so much is because they are based on books that are good. And I agree with general consensus that the moral universe of the Crows and the Shadow and Bone stories do not match at all, and it creates horrible discrepancies in narrative framing.

7. Cowboy Bebop

This is a show that has influenced my writing the most: dream-like vigenettes for characters? People dreaming and having nightmares? Characters stuck in the past? I wish I could be as subtle and genre-bending as this show often was. So beautiful.

8. Death Note

If you have inhaled animes during your teen years, you won't go without bingeing Death Note. Fantastic premise, fantastic protagonist and just outright brutal to watch. I keep returning to it time and again.

Tagging @merlins-sequined-hotpants @hinnyfied @bluethepineapple @phantomeo @thedreamermusing @turanga4

[denniisa]

#DENNIIS an independent, selective, and mutuals only roleplay blog for dennis reynolds from fx's it's always sunny in philadelphia. written by landis ( it/it's & he/him/his, 27, cst ). you must read my full carrd before interacting.

❝ D as in "deliver me from this". E as in "engage with human". N as in "nightmare". N as in "nightmare". I as in "is this real !?". S as in "somebody help me". ❞

this blog will cover heavy topics ( e.g. alcoholism, depression, anxiety, childhood trauma, manipulative behavior, eating disorders ). this blog will also contain explicit content. for these reasons, this blog is 18+.

❝ just you and me fighting the good fight against a broken system engineered to drive us both so crazy that we have to take days off for our mental health !! ❞

inbox, 81. drafts, 3. starters owed, 12.

mobile friendly rules under the cut.

this blog is selective & private. in order for me to be comfortable writing here on tumblr i realized i need to curate my space. i will only interact with blogs that i am *mutually* following. please do not take it personally if i do not follow you back. usually i do not follow back because i cannot see our muses interacting. if i find that you are not following my guidelines i will either softblock or hardblock you as i see fit. i will not follow your blog back if you do not have some sort of a rules/guidelines page, or at least mun info.

i work a full time job and i have a life outside of rping. this is a hobby for me. *sometimes replies to ic and ooc content will be slow.* please do not rush me for replies. if you do have a concern that i have misplaced a thread, please message me. just do not guilt trip me. reply time will be sporadic as well, given that my inspiration and motivation comes in random bursts.

there will be very mature themes on this blog. this is a trigger warning for mentions of child abuse, sexual assault, substance abuse, alcoholism, parental death, anxiety, depression, and eating disorders. please keep this in mind if you decide to follow this blog, and when you read through dennis' biography. all triggers will be tagged as trigger //. if there is something i am not tagging that you need tagged, please message me! i am happy to adjust as needed.

transphobia, homophobia, racism, bigotry, proshippers (underage smut, incest ships, dubcon/noncon) or any other asshole behavior will not be tolerated. if you ship dennis & dee get the fuck off my blog. anonymous hate will also not be tolerated. if i catch you doing any of these things, you will be hard blocked. if i am writing with someone you have an issue with, or someone that is harmful to the rpc, please let me know privately and not in an anonymous ask. i would like to be able to ask the proper questions i need to privately without posting it on the dash.

dennis is not a good person. i do not want to make excuses for him and excuse his shitty behavior. i will pay attention to dennis' manipulation of others, anger, lying, ect. i will not write any of dennis' *creepy* behavior towards people. this is just a reminder that mun =/= muse. i also write dennis as canon divergent & headcanon based. i add my own little tweaks to his character.

hello everyone, my name is landis! thank you for taking the time to read through all of this. i truly am just a silly little guy trying my best. the best way to start interactions with me is by sending me inbox prompts! so feel free, go off. no such thing as sending me too many.

[nerves-nebula]

Kidnapped AU hunter is a furry btw. He loves birds and wolves and has multiple fursonas (at least once he leaves Philip)

[jessybarnes]

Unexpected Savior

Pairings: The Winter Soldier x OFC Cadence Michaelson (platonic), Bucky Barnes x OFC Cadence Michaelson (platonic), Bucky Barnes x OFC Jane Michaelson (implied)

Characters: Steve Rogers, Tony Stark, Natasha Romanoff, Clint Barton, Bruce Banner/Hulk, Sam Wilson, Bucky Barnes, The Winter Soldier, OFC Jane Michaelson, and OFC Cadence Michaelson

Rating: Mature

Tags: Angst, fluff, Bucky's trigger words, Hydra, weapons, use of a syringe/needle, mentions of killing, anxiety, fear, crying, explicit language, and I think that's it.

Word Count: 2,992

Betas: T. Thompson and A. DiLorenza 

Title Card: Yours Truly

A/N: This fic is based on my daughter. She is absolutely obsessed with Bucky and if he were real and this happened to her in real life, she would 100% defend him. I am not fluent in Russian, nor do I trust Google translate to get the words right. I'm sorry if the trigger words aren't spelled correctly. If anyone is Russian or knows the language, please feel free to correct me! I will change it in the fic if need be. 

Bucky knew going on this mission was a bad idea. It wasn't a difficult one, but he just had this feeling. A gut instinct told him that he should stay back at the Avenger's Tower. The team needed him though, so despite his bad feeling, he got on the Quinjet with them anyway. 

Their objective was simple. Fury needed some Hydra intel about a supposed secret base location. All they had to do was search an old warehouse that had been previously abandoned and see if they'd left behind any clue of where it could be. 

Once they arrived the team thought it best to split up so they could cover more ground. Steve and Bucky had gone east, Clint and Natasha chose the north side, Sam and Tony took the larger west side. That left Thor and Bruce with the south end. 

Things were fine at first, searching filing cabinets, desks, and boxes while communicating through their comms system. A few minutes later, however, Bucky started to feel uneasy. Almost like he was being watched. He shook it off and told Steve he was going to check the rooms at the end of one of the hallways. 

The first two didn't have anything useful, but the third one had a safe. Bucky had set his rifle down on a nearby desk and began pulling at the handle with his metal arm. Everything happened so fast. The door slammed shut, a needle in his neck, and muffled voices was all he remembered before everything went black. 

That brings him to where he is now. He's tied to a chair, his metal arm is stuck between two pieces of heavy machinery, and Rumlow sits in front of him with the book. The fucking book ruined his goddamn life.

"Hello, James. It's good to see you again."

Bucky glares at him menacingly, "fuck you, Rumlow." 

"Well, that's not very nice. I'm here to do you a favor after all."

Bucky scoffs and continues to try and break free of his bonds. "I'd rather you go to hell!"

Rumlow smirks and leans in close to his face. "You first." 

He opens the book and stands up, staring straight at Bucky as he speaks. 

Zhelaniye

Bucky grits his teeth and pulls harder on the ropes.

Rjaviy

"No!" He closes his eyes and wills himself not to listen. 

Semnadtsať 

It wasn't working. Bucky can feel himself slipping away. 

Rassvet 

"Aghhhh! Stop!" 

Pech' 

His mind starts to fog over, the evil inside him beginning to rise and take hold again. 

Devyať

All he can do is scream. He knows it won't work. He's past the point of no return now. 

Dobroserdechnyy 

Bucky hangs his head, his chest heaving as the monster gains the upper hand inside him. 

Vozvrashcheniye na rodinu 

He's fading, like he's in a nightmare where he can see what's going on, but can't control anything. 

Odin

The last sliver of himself slowly dissipates, the vile desire to kill flooding through his body. 

Tovarnyy vagon 

He's gone. Bucky Barnes is pushed to the side as pure evil, the Winter Soldier, takes complete control of his body. 

Rumlow walks to stand in front of the soldier, crouching down so he can see the emotionless blue eyes of his weapon. He unties him and raises the metal machinery.

"Soldat?"

Bucky doesn't move, he doesn't even blink, but he answers the Hydra affiliate nonetheless. "Ya gotov otvechet" 

His response is deep, very monotone, and he stands staring straight ahead as he waits for his mission instructions.

"Do you see this man?" Rumlow holds up a file with a man's picture on it and Bucky immediately responds. "Da."

"This man has stolen vital information from Hydra, and he needs to be eliminated within the next twelve hours." 

The Winter Soldier stalks out of the small room and takes a high-powered gun from one of the guards. His stealthy nature allows him to sneak out of the back without being detected by the Avengers, and within minutes he's on his way back to New York. 

Steve is furious. He's pacing back and forth in the common room of the tower chastising himself for allowing this to happen again. Bucky is his best friend. He's been through so much torture, so much pain, and he couldn't even protect him on an easy mission.

"Goddammit!" He slams his fist into the wall, punching right through it, and making everyone else in the room jump. 

Natasha stands and walks across the room. "We're gonna get him back, Steve."

He snaps his gaze to hers, "how, Natasha? We don't know where they took him. Hell, he could be in Siberia and we wouldn't know."

Stark cuts in before she can respond. "Actually, you're wrong." 

All eyes move to Tony, but he isn't focused on them. Instead, he's typing something into one of his many tech devices.

Clint raises an eyebrow, "care to elaborate?"

A couple of seconds later, he projects a map for all of them to see. "This," he points to a little moving dot, "is Barnes' current location."

"After our last big mission, I took the liberty of putting tracking devices in everyone's gear. I would have tracked him earlier, but I didn't think we'd need the main tracker module for such a small mission. I was wrong. The good news is, it looks like he's right here in Manhattan." 

Steve moves to stand in front of the map, watching the tiny, red dot. The moment it stops, he notes the location and grabs his shield.

Bruce steps in front of him holding out a hand. "Whoa, don't you think we should talk about this, Steve? We can't just go into this blind."

"I agree with Banner," Thor adds. "I've definitely learned my lesson from charging into a battle without a plan."

The Captain turns around, giving his team a stern look. "Bucky is my best friend. I was the only one he remotely recognized back when we had the conflict with the Accords. If anyone is going to bring him back, it's me." 

Jane pulls her red Chevy Malibu into the gas station parking lot. She and her nine-year-old daughter, Cadence, have been driving for nearly twelve hours now, and they're hungry. Their hotel isn't too far away, but she wants to stock up on snacks for the room since the amenities they provide cost an arm and a leg.

She brought her daughter here for her birthday since it's been the only thing she's asked for over the past eight months. Cadence is a bit more unique than the rest of the kids in her grade. They were all playing outside or watching their favorite cartoons while having sleepovers with their friends.

Not her baby though. No, she spends almost all her time watching the news just to catch a glimpse of her favorite team of superheroes. Almost everything in her room revolves around the Avengers, specifically Captain America and Bucky Barnes. Cadence would often tell Jane that she wants a best friend like Bucky and Steve are to each other. 

Jane isn't sure if their tower allows visitors, but they plan to try tomorrow morning. Her baby will be ten in just under eleven hours, and it would make her entire life if she could have a chance to meet her idols. 

The gas station is quiet. Other than the cashier, they're the only ones there. Jane walks down one of the back aisles and begins to grab bags of chips. She turns to her daughter and smiles.

"Hey baby, do you wanna go pick out some candy for the room? Pick whatever you want, okay?"

Cadence nods, "Okay, Mommy!" 

Even though the candy aisle is on the opposite end of the store, she doesn't think anything of it. It's not that big, and she can still see her while she stocks up on drinks. As she is reaching for a two liter of Coke, all hell breaks loose.

Jane whips around at the sound of the door being ripped off its hinges. She watches in horror as her daughter's idol walks in with an assault rifle. Cadence stands no more than five feet away staring wide-eyed at the super soldier. Jane knows he isn't Bucky, but her baby doesn't. She didn't have the heart to tell her about all the torture James had to go through when he was captured by Hydra.

Now her daughter is mere feet away from the assassin, and she's too scared to even blink for fear of him turning around and shooting her little girl. 

Just when Bucky raises the gun at the startled cashier, the rest of the Avengers come barreling through the wall, courtesy of the Hulk, to try and stop him from adding another kill to his list.

"Bucky! Stop!"

Steve shouts at his friend causing him to turn around and narrow his eyes. He doesn't speak, but his intent to kill is evident. 

Everyone is armed and ready to strike if James so much as twitches. Jane looks at her daughter and tries to get her attention as quietly as she can, but it's no use. Her baby is laser-focused on the situation, her eyes wide with fear and wonder.

The moment Iron Man raises his hand to fire a beam at James, Jane's worst fear becomes a reality. Everything happens in slow motion as Cadence drops the bag of Skittles she's holding and runs straight into the line of fire. 

"No! No, don't hurt him, Iron Man! Don't hurt my Bucky!"

She stops in front of the Winter Soldier and wraps her tiny hands around his waist, burying her face in the front piece of his tactical gear. Everyone stops. It's so quiet that you can hear a pin drop.

Steve, Tony, Sam, Thor, Natasha, Clint, and even the Hulk stand completely still with horrified looks on their faces. Never in the history of their careers has a civilian intervened on any of their missions. Especially not a child. Now they're standing there, trying to come up with a strategy on how to save this tiny little girl from one of the world's most deadly assassins. 

Steve is the closest to her. She's probably no more than forty-five pounds and maybe three and a half feet tall. He could probably grab her before she got too injured. He isn't sure that's the right way to go about this though. He gauges Bucky's reaction to try and figure out the best solution. 

The Winter Soldier looks down at her, confusion written all over his face. He isn't trained in any interactions other than the ones where he kills. He's mostly confused about what she said. My Bucky. There's that name again, the one that the Steve guy called him on the bridge a few years ago. 

"I'm not Bucky."

She looks up into his menacing eyes and hugs him a bit tighter.

"You look like my Bucky. And you talk like him. Did you lose your memory? The tall blonde over there," she points to Steve, "he's your best friend! I think you guys have been friends for like a hundred years or something. My Mommy told me once, but I forgot the story." 

Tony speaks up to try and coax her away from the danger she's in. "Hey, sweetheart…Bucky isn't feeling good right now and he needs our help. Can you go hang out with my friend Natasha over there so we can help him?"

Cadence turns around, her arms are spread out and her back presses up against Bucky's legs.

"No! I won't let you hurt him! If you're gonna make him better, then why would you shoot him? That's not how you play with your friends. You don't hurt them. My mommy says friends are supposed to give each other hugs when they're upset. Right, Mommy?" 

Everyone, including Bucky, turns their gaze to Jane. She's moved a bit closer now, still too scared to make any sudden movements.

"T-That's right honey," she whispers. "Can you do what Iron Man said and go stand with Black Widow? Please, baby?"

Jane's voice is shaky and she's got tears in her eyes. Bucky picks up on it all. His confusion increases and he's starting to feel different. 

His flesh hand is still on the trigger of the rifle, but it's pointed at the floor now. Cadence moves to stand at Bucky's side, and everyone watches in amazement and fear as she grabs his metal hand in hers, holding it tightly.

"I can't, Mommy! Iron Man will hurt him." She starts to cry, thick tears sliding down her tiny cheeks onto her shirt. "I love him, Mommy. I love Bucky and I won't let anyone hurt him because he's a good person. He's just having a bad day, and we all have those." 

Bucky squeezes his eyes shut, his head beginning to throb. His breathing pattern changes and then suddenly, he feels the anger leave his body. He looks down at the tiny blonde holding his bionic hand and pries it from her grasp. The movement makes Steve step forward, ready to pull her away from him in an instant. Instead, he and everyone else stare in awe as Bucky gently rubs the back of her head. 

All their eyes widen in shock. Sam is the first to move. He folds his wings into his pack and slowly steps forward.

"Buck? Hey, man you good?"

James looks up and drops the gun. He feels lightheaded and quickly falls to his knees. Cadence is now level with his face and she smiles warmly at him.

"It's okay, Bucky. Sometimes superheroes need protecting too."

She snakes her arms around his neck and rests her tiny cheek on his shoulder.

James has never been shown this much compassion by anyone other than Steve. He looks up at Jane, his eyes shining with tears, and gingerly runs his metal hand down Cadence's back.

"Th-Thank you…" His body starts to shake a little as he cries from both the kindness and the relief of knowing he didn't hurt anybody.

Cadence pulls back to look at him and reaches out to wipe his tears with the sleeve of her shirt. "Oh, please don't cry, Bucky. You're too pretty to cry...well, at least that's what my Mommy says." 

Jane goes beet red and buries her face in her hands. Bucky glances at her briefly before looking back into her daughter's big, brown eyes.

"What's your name?"

"My name is Cadence Elizabeth Michaelson and my Mommy's name is Jane Marie Michaelson." 

James smiles and cradles her cheek with his flesh hand, "I owe you my life, Cadence. If it weren't for you, I don't know if my friends would have been able to bring me back."

Tony crouches down and removes his helmet. "You're a very brave little girl, Cadence. I could use someone like you on the team. When you're older, of course. I'm sure your Mom wouldn't like it if I recruited you now." He winks. 

Steve walks over to Jane and looks her over to make sure she's okay.

"Hi, ma'am. I'm sure you know me, but I'm Captain Steve Rogers. I know this might sound a little strange, but do you think you and your daughter would be willing to come back to the tower with us? I'd like to discuss a few things with you if that's alright?"

She nods, "Yes, that's okay. It's actually why we came here anyway. Cadence's birthday is tomorrow and all she's ever wanted since she was two years old was to meet you guys. Especially Bucky. She has always been drawn to him from the start." 

Back at the compound, they all gather in the common room. Nat, Bruce, Sam, Thor, and Clint are eating snacks and watching TV, Steve, Tony, and Jane are chatting in the kitchen, and Bucky is sitting on the floor with Cadence. She's on his lap and reading him her favorite book, The Very Hungry Caterpillar. 

"Ms. Michaelson I-"

She interrupts Steve briefly, "please call me Jane."

He smiles, "Jane, I don't think you understand how extraordinary that was. This isn't the first time Bucky has been brainwashed by Hydra, and the last two times we were in a situation like that, things didn't end well. The only way we were able to bring him out of the Winter Soldier mindset was to restrain him and wait it out."

Tony nods, "he's right, ya know. Barnes doesn't trust anyone really. Well, except for red, white, and blue here and maybe Natasha, but he's still not to that point with everyone else." 

Steve puts a big hand on Jane's shoulder. "In all the years I've known Buck, he's never let himself be that vulnerable with anyone other than myself. I don't know what it is about your little girl, but she calms his anxiety. I can see it, and that's why I'm asking you if you'd consider staying here for a while? You'd have your own rooms, own bathroom, all new furniture, and whatever else you need." 

Jane's eyes go wide, "y-you...you want us to stay here in the tower… with you?"

He nods, "if you're willing to. I don't think Bucky's really ready to let his new best friend go yet. I know it's selfish of me to ask such a thing of you, but I think it would really help him if she's around."

She looks over at her daughter and watches as she and James laugh at something in the story she's reading him. He really does look relaxed, and despite his strength and metal arm, he's being so careful with her. Jane moves her eyes back to look at the two men in front of her. Her decision comes easy, and she doesn't hesitate in giving them a bright smile. 

"Alright, we'll stay."

Does anyone want a Part Two? :)

[waywardimpalawriter]

hi! i really love your writing, and was really hoping you could do another dean winchester x f! plus size reader. possibly were they are best friends and she is pining for someone else. so before she can make her move on someone else he stops her and confess his love for her. idk maybe some angst/fluff/smut?? you don’t have to if u don’t want to, it’s totally up to you. like no pressure at all! but seriously, i do really love all your writing and i wanted to say thank you for everything u write and do!! <3 once again no pressure at all with this ask, but overall thank you!!<3

Just one good reason

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus Size Female Reader

SPN mixed Bingo Square: Hurt/Comfort Square

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester,

Setting: mid season 11

Rating: E (explicit), NSFW, 18+ only please

Warnings: angst, smut, yearning, grumpy and sweet Dean (yes they need a warning),

Word count: 12,805 (Truly Was suppose to be this long. I blame Dean for this.)

Summary: He’s given a million reasons, damaged goods, blood on his hands, nightmares, scared in so many ways. But most of all that he’s not good enough. Just when you’re ready to walk out that door he gives you one good reason to stay.

Notes: Thank you Anon for this request, I love writing for Dean so very much and to add a plus size gal in as well that just makes my day. I do hope you’ll enjoy this story. The song “Million Reasons” both version’s by Lady Gaga and Briana Buckmaster are inspiration for this story.

Tag list: Is open for all character’s and series I write for.

@spnmixedbingo

Dean Winchester list: @akshi8278

Just one good reason list: @chickensarentcheap

@impala1967dwinchester, @lilacprincessofrecovery, @superavengerpotterstar @jbbarnesgirl @sofreddie  @slightlyobsessedwithissues  

Ancient hinges creak wearily, firm hand pushing to hold open the heavy door letting you and Sam pass by. Fatigued sigh leaves slightly chapped lips, “It’s good to be home.” Taking the stairs down two at a time, tossing duffle bags towards the war table.

“Going soft on us old man?” Teasing quip tugging a smile from your lips as you drop down into the nearest chair. “Getting use to having that soft bed under your ass now huh?”

Scoffing, whiskey flecked green eyes settling on your plush frame, “Woman you forget we’re the same age first off.” Playfully stocking towards you, hands placed on the back of your chair to cage you in. “Second damn right that bed is magical, memory form baby, it remembers me,” poking your side, giggle leaving your lips body squirming in the seat.

“Stop,” pleading tone entering your voice, trying to evaded his questing hands trailing along your curvy sides. “Please,” puppy eyes begging for mercy, his hands aren’t willing to give. Though you can’t bring yourself to care seeing the weight, even for a moment, disappear from his countenance. Or the fact your sides aren’t the ticklish spot on your body, moving in the seat purely for show.

“Say your sorry for calling me old,” brow lifting watching you squirm under his hands. Wishing and not for the first time, he could have your soft body slotted against his harder frame. Knowing how well you fit just in a different way, one that hasn’t been enough for a long time.

Giggles burst from your lips, hands flat against the hard plains of his chest tugging on the dark blue t-shirt to distract from his plans. Pushing him away which had as much of an effect as a toy bulldozer did against a real brick wall. “Okay, okay I’m sorry, promise I’m sorry,” gasping for breath giving a hard tap to his shoulder.

“Now who’s giving up too soon?” Hands pause as his eyes catch yours for a long moment. Smiling face beaming up at him, heart beating triple time and not from assaulting you with his hands. Unable to resist the urge to touch your soft skin. Callused fingers come up to barely graze just under your left eye carefully capturing the eyelash on the tip of his forefinger from your cheek, “Make a wish.”

Leaning forward to place your lips close to the offered digit, eyes closed to blow a cold stream, eyelash fluttering away unseen. Keeping your libs lowered for a bit longer torn between what you truly desire and what’s within your grasp. Whiskey roughened voice breaking through your thoughts, sending a pleasurable shiver down your spine.

“What you wish for?” Swallowing hard, beloved eyes flutter open to ensnare his in there depths. Catching something simmering just below but disappears quicker than a jack rabbit running from a coyote.

Clearing yours throat, “Can’t tell ya Deano won’t come true if I do.” Giving a smile, pressing him backwards to raise and grab your duffle bag. Cell phone signaling an incoming text message making you pull the the black case wrapped piece of tech out of your front jeans pocket. Bright smile pulling your lips higher seeing just who’s messaged you. “Catch y’all later.”

“Someone good?” Sam speaks for the first time since coming home. Watching the scene between his brother and best friend. Wanting to strangle the both of you for not seeing what’s right in front of you.

Head snapping up from buried in your phone to stare wide eyed at Sam, “Yes, no I mean it’s nothing but could be something.”

“Will again?” Peripheral catching the dark scowl pass over Dean’s features before disappearing behind a mask of indifference.

Humming sweetly, sparkle lighting your eyes that go back to your phone for a moment. “He’s asking if we can meet up tomorrow for lunch, trying to choose where to eat.”

“What about,” clearing his throat to unclog the emotions choking off the air to breath. “That little diner in town? It’s your favorite and serves the best pie aside yours of course.”

Trapping and tugging your bottom lip between nibbling teeth, head shaking in the negative. “Nope he’s not fond of greasy foods.”

‘Plus that’s our spot,’ unbridled thought slides into your mind and you want to look over at Dean to remind him. But push those thoughts aside with a wave, heading towards the bedrooms carefully making sure not to bump into a wall while responding.

Green eyes follow till you round the corner, heart catching in his throat cursing himself for mentioning your diner. Knowing better yet wanting confirmation without asking if the spot is still special.

“You’re an idiot Dean,” shaggy brown head shaking as he to snaps up his duffle bag to head towards his room. “The foundation is already there start building before it cracks.”

“Thanks Riddler, just cause I’m Batman doesn’t mean you have to be so fucking vague.” Left with his thoughts and the growing feeling he’s loosing you to another man. Dean leaves his stuff lay where it landed glancing over the chair you vacated not five minutes ago then heading towards the kitchen. In need of something harder than beer but settling for the dark brew being the only alcohol in the bunker.

Opening the fridge door, grabbing a brew his fingers brush against the clear plastic container holding a single slice of pecan pie. Eyes unseeing, drifting back into memories when the Mark of Cain still burned into his skin.

2015

Charlie’s dead, beaten, murdered and left in a pool of her own blood. Every time his eyes close she’s there, expressionless sea green eyes staring blankly into his own. Never hearing her snarky retorts, sassy ways or those hugs she gave. Staring into cold brown sludge, hands gripping the mug a little too tightly. Not sure why he chose to come here of all places. When he could’ve started out on his hunt for the Styne’s. Deep down though he knows the reason right as the little bell signals someone’s entered the small family owned diner. Knowing exactly who and trying to ready himself for your present.

Never ready for how your soft fingers brush along his temple, settling on his shoulder for a moment while you slide into the worn pleather covered booth. Trailing those gentle fingers down his black and grey plaid covered arm. Tugging one hand from around the ceramic cup to intertwine your fingers. Head coming to rest on his shoulder, no words just comfort in a time when he needs it most.

“You shouldn’t be here,” dark with hints of gravel and kissed with pain in the tone. Whiskey flicked green obits focus, for the first time on something besides the cup in his hands, landing on the top of your head.

Shrugging, “Where else should I be Dean?” Looking up at him sorrowful eyes meeting right when your other palm comes up to brush moisture from his cheek. Unnoticed tears sliding down cool cheeks, “You’re my best friend there’s no place I’d rather be then right here helping you.”

“You could get killed,” the very through twists his heart till almost bursting. Brings bile to rise in the back of his throat, slithering through his system to settle unpleasantly in the pit of his stomach. It’s one thing to loose Charlie a heavy casualty. But you, Dean isn’t sure he’d come back from the dark path he’d follow for vengeance.

Soft sad smile turns your lips barely upward, “Not gonna happen I have my knight in shining Impala to keep me safe.”

“I couldn’t keep Charlie safe how can I…”

Shaking your head, finger placed over his kissable lips, “You’ve given me a million reasons already Dean Winchester and I don’t believe a single one of them.” Resting your foreheads together a moment, tenderness skating across your veins for the man beside you, “You might not believe it but your a good man.”

Pie filled plate slides across scared formica table top, metal fork clattering against the ceramic pushed in front. “More coffee,” sweet feminine voice floats from beside you.

Nodding, “Please, sugar and cream too.” Giving her a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes feeling Dean stir beside you.

“Black like my soul you know that sweetheart,” slightly chapped lips brush your cheek. A simple thank you for this act of kindness he feels undeserving of. If he hadn’t already been head over heels in love with you this sweet gesture would’ve sealed the deal.

Breathless gasp parts your lips as you turn finding Dean closer almost invading your space. Leather, motor oil and Irish Spring tickle your nose, eyes locking with those agony drenched obits, making another gasp exist your lungs. Heartache rocketing through your body, colliding with anger directed at the Styne’s.

“Eat your pie Winchester we’ll talk about that soul of yours later after dealing with the Styne’s.”

Heart freezing at the mention of the murdering family, “No,” rougher than intended, Dean grabs your chin twisting your face towards his. Rage hot and potent flaring through those beautiful greens. “No you will stay with Sam I’ll deal with them myself…”

“Dean you can’t be serious…” grabbing his wrist, pleading in your eyes for him to listen. Loosing Charlie splintered your heart, counting her as the sister you’ve never had. Her blood demanding revenge for the grievous act. But loosing Dean would kill you, knowing you never would come back from that agony.

“I am, deadly so. You try and sneak along I’ll toss that sexy ass outta Baby faster than you can pray to Castiel.”

Snorting, pulling your chin from his grasp, “You couldn’t lift me Winchester and you can’t stop me…” but the look he gives you does. Any farther flow of words halt in there bid to tumble out of your mouth.

“No I can’t,” callused palms cup your cheeks keeping you in place. Searching your eyes and making sure you understood, “I don’t want you to come with me Y/N. If there’s anytime to listen its now. I’ve lost one sister I didn’t want.” Bitting those words out to keep from speaking the others which threaten to pour from his being. “I can’t loose you,” resting your foreheads together again.

Nodding, trying to keep yourself from rubbing your cheek into his palm or worse press your lips against his. Lying to yourself isn’t something you normally do and you wouldn’t start now with the realization you were in love with your best friend and worried your going to loose him to the all consuming darkness.

You're giving me a million reasons to let you go

You're giving me a million reasons to quit the show

You're giving me a million reasons

Give me a million reasons

Giving me a million reasons

About a million reasons

Present

Downing the last of his long neck, drawing patterns over the hardwood table underneath with the condensation from the bottle. Eyes trained on that single slice of pie you’d bought him weeks ago.

“I wouldn’t eat that if I were you D,” mirth filled voice floats towards him before you reach his side in body.

Hand coming into view grabbing for the container to toss it out. But Dean’s quicker, “If you value your life, you’ll unhand my pie,” thick fingers circle your wrist pulling your plush body down beside him. “It’s not nice to steal a man’s pie woman,” keeping his tone light, playful and away from the looming fate he knows will visit upon his person once you figure out Will is the man you truly want. Deserving of your light, and laughter, the sweetness, of your beauty that Dean only hopes the other man will appreciate.

Gasping in mock outrage, “Who me?” Hand to heart trying to keep the laughter from your tone. “I would never deprive you of pie Deano. But I would that slice since I think it’s become a science experiment.”

Narrowing his eyes towards the offending sweet dessert, “It is not.” Poking twice before pulling the pie forward for a closer inspection. Musical laughter meeting his ears, smothering the smirk threatening to bloom over his lips. “Okay so maybe your right,” turning his pouting face towards you.

“Course I am,” giving him a wink then standing to toss the ruined sweets out. Pausing by the panty, you peek in unaware Dean’s watching you from his seat.

Teasing sway to your generous hips has his eyes tracking every movement. Bitting the inside of his cheek to keep from groaning at how temping you look. Thick thighs encased in blue denim jeans feet bare from wearing those steal toed Dr. Martins during hunts. Body stretching upwards, soft cotton baby blue tank top riding up to bare a silver of delicate skin to his eyes. Your fingers barely snag the sugar container’s edge, pulling it down to clasp against your ample chest.

Chastising himself for the erotic thoughts flipping through his mind on a single film reel. “What exactly are you doing sweetheart?” Carefully keeping his lower half away from your line of sight. Lest you find out the problem currently tenting his jeans, teeth gritting to stop himself from acting on all those thoughts.

“Never you mind Dean Winchester,” tossing over your shoulder, checking for vanilla extract, light syrup, and butter from the fridge. Last stop the freezer mentally trying to remember if you there's a pie shell left or would need to make one. Hoping for at least a single, since checking the flour stock and coming up almost empty. “Start a list for me please and put flour on it,” setting the three ingredients in your hands down. Turning back to open the metal door to peer into the freeze, swaying slighting to a song running through your head. A triumphant “Yes,” exists your lips, a little dance of excitement upon finding the last shell.

Damn near swallowing his tongue so entranced by your movements gulping different words back down to keep from making a total fool of himself. As he utters, “Not till I know exactly what your making over there Betty Crocker.”

“Resorting to blackmail now?” Brow arched, unconsciously licking your lips slowly. Unaware of Dean watching the path it takes across your pump bottom lip, tucking it between indenting teeth.

For distraction purposes, Dean pulls his phone from the front pocket of his jeans. Bringing up the list app a suggestion to simplify things you gave him months back. Forcing himself to focus on the small screen in his hands instead of the woman currently dancing around the kitchen. Pulling bowls, pots and pans out, one chance glance has an inaudible groan vibrating through his chest at the sight of your plush ass. Bent over shifting through sheet pans knowing which you look for as arousal flares to life so potent Dean turns quickly hiding his reacting. Planting his face in the palms of his hands, elbows bent to catch the weight. Fingers digging into eye sockets to use the pain and banish the thoughts from reappearing.

Frowning at his actions you come over after putting the pan on the counter. Fingers running through his hair, scraping the scalp with short nails. Pleased smile at the groan you pull from his lips as he rubs his head into your palm like a little puppy. “Something wrong Dean?” Worry dancing through the cadence of your voice other hand coming to rest on his shoulder.

“Fine,” head popping up, forcing your fingers to slide out of his hair. Taking a chance to glance up into your worried eyes. Underserving of your soft touch searing his skin. An itch to run from our presence skitters across his veins. “I’m fine sweetheart just tired.”

Searching his face, those whiskey flecked green eyes so unlike the blue-greens of Will’s, catching something hiding in those deep depths he’s trying to hide. Never fooled by words, always inspecting his actions and those little tells partially concealed though you know them all too well. “You’re covering something up Winchester I’ll get it out of you one way or another,” patting his cheek and stepping away.

‘I don’t want you to go on that date,’ on the tip of his tongue poised to leave his lips he keeps smashed together burying those feelings to not ruin this chance you have at an apple pie life. The very thought tears his heart, rendering another hole in the punched out organ. Though it’s his own fault for giving you a million reasons to keep that boundary line in place. Tip toeing almost across a few times, but always toeing the line keeping himself in check. Head snapping around when something hard hits the back of his head, scowl in place though it’s more playful than menacing. “Did you just…” glancing towards the floor to find a lone pecan on the ground behind him. Head tilted to the side, eyes narrowed on your face, which is the total opposite of his holding a sweetly innocent look concealing the trouble he knows you’ll cause. “Seriously a pecan? That could’ve done damage Babe Ruth.”

Eyes rolling, snort issuing from your up turned lips, “I don’t know what you speak of Dean I’m just here making a pie minding my own business. Can’t help it if a pecan has it out for you.”

“Possessed it must be,” voice pitched in a poor imitation of Master Yoda, getting a boo hiss from your general direction. “Though something tells me a certain someone threw the poor helpless nut.”

Shrugging, face neutral a picture of indifference with hands on your wide hips ingredients spread out over the counter. “Stop calling yourself names Dean it’s not nice.” Bottom lip trapped for a second to keep from giggling at the way he’s looking towards you.

Enjoying this moment of normalcy you’ve managed to capture in these dark and dangerous times. Thoughts skittering towards Will, if he’s able to put up with the hunters life style? Former Marine, Will knows so little of what truly goes bump in the night making you worry he wouldn’t feel at ease. It’s the reason you’ve hesitated each time he’s asked you out. Not wanting to drag someone else into a life of blood and death. Persistence and patience paid off when you finally agreed on a dinner date for tomorrow night. One your actually looking forward to.

But then you glance towards Dean, seeing the smile grace those soft looking lips, shinning in his whiskey flecked green orbs for the first time in months and you hesitate. Would you want to leave this life for a man who wouldn’t understand you not fully anyway? Or stay and remain the best friend till a hunt takes one of you out? Could you truly leave your home with the Winchesters, with Dean?

His voice breaks through the your thoughts, ruthful chuckle echoing through the room, “Haha sweetheart stop trying to be John Candy it ain’t workin for ya,” bending to scoop up the tossed nut a memory filters through his mind. Opening a wound he thought long since closed over soaked in whiskey and women who’s names he’s forgotten. Shaking the thought away to ask, “You gonna chunk a nut at your boyfriend tomorrow night too? Or is that reserved for me?”

Not sure why he’s even asking or teasing you about it or the fact there’s a bite to the tone. He shouldn’t care about a simple date, yet the thought twists his gut smile slipping from his lips as he looks down at the pecan in hand. Unwillingly letting those images fill and play before his eyes.

If I had a highway, I would run for the hills

If you could find a dry way, I'd forever be still

But you're giving me a million reasons

Give me a million reasons

Giving me a million reasons

About a million reasons

December 2011

Run down two room shack a nicer way of putting it truly, you think while pulling up outside next to Baby’s sleek black side. Hands gripping the steer wheel till knuckles hurt and you can focus again through the haze of tears spilling down your cold cheeks. Still trying to grasp the fact Bobby Singer legendary hunter, go to lore man, and surrogate father, dead by a bullet from Dick Roman’s gun. Itching for vengeance you try to quell for another time when you can let all the anger out. For right now you knew he needed you more than any strategy planning or revenge thought.

Remembering Sam’s voice shaking, laced with pain, peppered with rage but above all coated in sadness you could hear over the phone lines. Never hesitating to drop the case — for now — breaking speed limit in the need to reunite with your boys. You’d do anything for family even those who weren’t by blood. Learning a long time ago that family doesn’t end with the DNA flowing through your veins.

Shaking those thoughts from your mind and existing the car only to lean back in and grab the bags from the passenger side. Standing to full height to peer over the top locking eyes with those anger clouded greens. “No I didn’t bring you anything Winchester so don’t bother asking.” Trying to lighten the situation with poorly used humor.

Words fail to leave thinned lips as you pass by, hand holding the creaking barely held together door open for you. Following behind his voice scratchy from no use, “Sam call you?”

“Of course silly why wouldn’t he?” Placing the bags on what could pass for a pile of rubble instead of an island countertop. Turning to face him cataloging each feature, the stone set of his jaw, shoulders tight with tension, eyes those beautiful normally vibrate whiskey flecked greens mute with anguish he tries to hide.

Shrugging, shoulders dropping forward with no will to keep them up, “He shouldn’t have your needed else where Y/N.”

“Bullshit Winchester,” moving with purpose to stand in his personal space. “Bobby was just as much a father to me as to you. There’s no other place I’d rather be than here, for a different reason yes but I’m not leaving so suck it up buttercup.”

Catching the flash of anger tinging the deep greens whether directed at you or himself you’re not sure. “We already salted and burned his body, there’s no reason for you to stay.” Turning away from your softening eyes knowing your going to try and reason with him. Make him see he’s not responsible for what happened.

“I know,” two simple words make him pause and turn back. “I didn’t come to say goodbye to Bobby, I came for you.” Taking one step closer arms wrapping around his slumped shoulders bringing him into the shelter of your embrace. Steady hands running the length of his stiff back, imparting your warm, trying to give comfort knowing he’s unaccepting of such sympathies.

Brows furrowing, frown tipping his lips downward, fists clinching at his sides, Dean tries to keep himself from giving into the solace he so easily could find in your embrace. Warmth sinking into his skin through the layers of clothing he wears, tingling his skin, quickening his pulse.“Why?”

“You need me, your not listening to Sam or Castiel talking about going off to track Roman down yourself,” spitting the Leviathan’s name out like chewed to long gum. Head resting against his strong chest feeling the slightly erratic beat of his heart against your ear.

Back stiffening, “I don’t need you to tell me what to do Y/N I can make that decision on my own.” Low growl rattling through his chest as he pulls from your arms and steps from the warmth evaporating from his body. “You should leave.”

“And get yourself killed?” Hands slamming to your wide hips glaring daggers at your best friend. “What happened wasn’t your fault Dean. Any one of us could’ve taken that bullet, Bobby knew the risks of the mission, accepted them and died…” swallowing the tears threatening to slip from your eyes. “A hero,” ignoring his last words, reaching out to try and take his hand only to have him pull away like you’ve burned him.

“Don’t, don’t try to reason this with me I know better,” turning his back to head for the wall covered in papers trying to figure out just what Dick Roman’s up too.

Shaking your head knowing he’s hurting but not wanting to voice those feelings, to make him appear weak. With a sigh leaving your frowning lips you move silently beside him looking over the wall of weird trying to piece together how everything connects. Brushing your hand against his, pinkie trailing to catch what you think is his forefinger. Wrapping the little finger tightly around his you lean over, “I’m right here when you’re ready Dean, I’m not leaving nor letting go.”

“You should,” not bothering to turn and face you. Memories of Lisa and Ben filter through his thoughts along with Bobby, his father and what he can remember of his mother. “I’m poison and get everyone around me killed.” He doesn’t want to add you to the growing list. Rather wanting you to leave and find a different path for your life.

Tugging on his finger to wrap the middle and forefinger with your ring and pinkie fingers, “Then Sam and I are the antidote to your poison.” Giving a soft sad smile to his side profile, wrapping him up into your arms. Resting your head on his shoulder, voice a gentle whisper of breath upon his cheek and neck,“Those reasons keep tallying up Winchester we’ll hit a million before long.”

Reminding you both of a long ago discussion between the two of you in Bobby’s junk yard while still teenagers. Before angels and demons, vampires thought long dead and ancient Leviathan brought back from the pit of purgatory. When you made the packed to never fall for each other and always remain best friends. To never let go no matter how dire the situation, you’d have each other’s back.

Evaporating memories of long ago, you speak softly still resting your head on his shoulder. “You work on this mosaic of papers you have plastered over the walls. I have a pie to bake,” not giving it much thought you quickly press a kiss to his stubbled cheek then turn to head back towards the passable kitchen area.

Tingles dance over his skin for longer than he wishes, wanting to suppress those feelings bubbling up to try and consume him. Thinking he could bury them under the mounting pain and self hated. Yet, the warmth of your arms, soft press of your lips, your words register and sink into his brain Dean turns to watch you work unable stop a few of those feelings from dancing around his heart. Single thought shocking him in its stark contradiction to his current state of mind, Dean Winchester self proclaimed ladies man has fallen in love with his best friend. A sucker punch to the gut making him gasp and reel that silent declaration in. Stuffing it under the right full emotions of anger and pain. Letting them tap dance through his veins instead, something much safer for the both of them. Something he could understand and deal with.

I bow down to pray

I try to make the worst seem better

Lord, show me the way

To cut through all his worn out leather

I've got a hundred million reasons to walk away

But, baby, I just need one good one to stay

Head stuck in a cycle, I look off and I stare

It's like that I've stopped breathing, but completely aware

'Cause you're giving me a million reasons

Give me a million reasons

Giving me a million reasons

About a million reasons

Present

“He’s not my boyfriend yet Dean,” eyes rolling as you turn to melt the butter in a small sauce pan. Though there is a part of you wishing he could one day fill the role unless a single good reason can change your mind comes your way.

“But you want him too?” Words muttered through presses together teeth. Hating the fact he’s letting something so trivial effect him in such a way. You’ve had other boyfriends, one night stands he’s had to sit through yet this one feels different. As if he could truly loose you this time and those thoughts scare the shit outta him the most. Because yes you’re his best friend for longer than he can remember but above that you’re the woman who gets him, argues with him, sets his ass straight when he’s being stupid and above all or so he hopes, loves him warts and all.

Hands pause at his question looking into the melting golden liquid bubbling silently remembering to flick the tiny knob and turn the heat off. While your head screams to say yes but it’s a little small voice beating quickly beneath your ribcage making you pause. Clearing your throat to gather what thoughts you could from their scattered places. You’ve always spoke with honesty to Dean, unless circumstances dictated other wise, and you weren’t about to change now. Through you wouldn’t turn to face him when you did wanting to keep from seeing his eyes. Finding the reason for his questions in those green depths you’ve fallen for though never spoken the feelings. “Yes, he could…” swallowing to coat your dry throat to spit out the words rotting your stomach. “I could have a chance at happiness with Will, Dean. Why do you even ask?”

“I don’t want to loose you,” ‘Because I love you,’ on the tip of his tongue to tell you, give voice and life to his true feelings. Wanting you to stay and forget about those million other reasons he’s let slip between the cracks in your relationship.

Frozen in place, hands gripping the countertop beside the stove. “You wouldn’t loose me Dean I’d still go on hunts with you, I’d stick around,” lies tasting bitter on your tongue, heart beating triple time wondering if he’ll pick up on the dishonesty your speaking. Always feeling he’d never see you as anything other than his best friend. Never the type of woman to draw his attention, too soft and plush in places most men wouldn’t want and you didn’t pine for a man who’s given you a million reasons to walk away. So you shoved those feelings, the love you held back trying to make it work with other men. To find the one who’d surpass Dean destroying your feelings for the green eyed hunter, giving you the one reason to stay and belong. So why now did he have to put doubts in your mind? Why ask these questions when in years past he’d brush other men away as nothing more than a passing fancy?

Silently Dean stands slowly making his way towards you, taking in the ridged stance of your plush form. Hands itch to wrap around your thick waist and haul you against his chest. Pausing right beside you, brushing his fingers against yours too hook what he thinks is your forefinger with his pinkie. “You and I both know things wouldn’t stay the same between us sweetheart. He’d find a way to take you away from me,” praying you won’t pull away Dean turns to stare at your profile. Taking in the beauty he’s catalogued thousands of times, the curve of your lips when you smile, slope of your nose, eyes bright with laughter or spiting fire when angry usually at him. Softness of your cheeks under his palms the times he’s actually got to cup and caress the skin.

“We’ll remain best friends Dean that’ll never change,” gathering the courage to turn and look into his eyes. Catching the sadness coating those beloved greens making your heart ache. Tongue slipping out to tug back your bottom lip between your teeth indented them to keep from asking the question your heart demands.

Of its own accord Dean’s free hand comes up to brush over your cheek, cupping the soft skin, fingers spread from apple to jaw wanting so badly to draw you in and kiss those tempting lips. “I want you happy Y/N and if it’s possible out of this life, been wanting that for you since Bobby,” sliding his hand to your chin to pinch the end with his thumb and forefinger tipping your face up to press a lingering kiss to your forehead. “I’ll miss you sweetheart.”

Eyes lock with stormy greens after he pulls back, soft gasp parting your lips at the simple touch, words sounding like a goodbye instead of their usual see ya later. Grappling for words to say, questions to ask, trying to figure out what’s going on, and why now. But he’s gone before your brain can catch up with your mouth, and your turning to rush after, seeing his back disappear around the corner.

Feet finally responding to command as you quickly follow stopping at the doorway, “Give me one good reason.” Praying he’ll listen and stop, hoping it’s not too late. “Stop giving me all these reasons to leave.”

Back ridged but his mind a flurry of thoughts and answers, more questions than he could shake a stick at. Only one reason comes to mind, “Good reason to what?”

Traveling the short distance to take his hand intertwining your fingers with his, needing him to turn around and look at you. Needing the connection while stating, “Give me a good reason to stay Dean to not go tomorrow night.”

“I can’t,” partly wanting to flinch from your touch, to tug his hand free, and partly wanting to sink into your familiar embrace. Soak in the peace he always finds in your arms, to bath in your warmth and possibly bask in your love. But Dean wouldn’t be selfish he’d let you go even if it meant killing his own heart and soul.

The urge to punch him grows strong but your refrain from using violence, “Why not? Too scared? Or you just don’t care?”

The warmth of your hand disappears from searing into his palm, tingling those long nimble fingers, his eyes close knowing you’re walking away because of that millionth reason. Till the first brush of soft fingers tender in there touch upon his cheek. He gives in to the urge and rubs his slightly stubbled cheek into your palm. “If that’s you Sam, I’m gonna kick your ass dude,” ignoring your questions in favor of basking in your touch instead. Hearing the soft giggle from your lips brings a smile to his own. Eyes finally opening too stare into yours, almost doing a doubt take at what he sees in those beloved depths. “I don’t deserve you Y/N.”

“Stop giving me a million reasons Dean and give me the one that’ll make me stay,” imploring him with your touch, fingers tracing over his cheeks and jaw. Tracing his plush bottom lip with the pad of your thumb, “I just need one good reason.”

He’d find the situation funny if it’s anyone else standing in front asking the same question. Even Sam would get a chuckle from his lips, but you, his breath freezes, heart thumping wildly in equal measures of terror and excitement. The very thoughts running unrestrained in his mind scare the shit out of him, but only one truly feels right. Snaking an arm around your thick waist pulling you against his strong chest, fitting like missing puzzle pieces. His free hand coming up to cup your cheek, “I love you.”

Tears slip from their ducts barely held back till those three simple words spill from his mouth jump starting your heart and sending your emotions swirling. Warm palms cradle your wet cheeks, gun callused thumbs brush hot tears away, you spy the worry and fear your non response sparks. “Do you mean it?” Wanting clarification before handing your heart over to the very man who’s held it for so long.

Knowing what your asking Dean stops waiting and lowers his mouth to yours. That first touch of lips electricity shoots through you veins. Body responding quicker with arms going around his neck to pull him firmly against you not a wisp of space between your bodies. Fingers tangling in the short hairs at the back of his head while you slot your lips against his. Demanding and deep, a tangled dance of tongues. Clashing of teeth, a melding mouths and finding the right angles to draw those delicious moans from each of you. Till air becomes necessary and you break apart panting, “That answer your question sweetheart?”

“No,” smirking when his eyes narrow, “I wanna hear it again.”

No hesitation in speaking those three words, “I love you.” Groaning when your lips smash back to his. Stealing breath from his lungs and a moan from his chest, Dean walks you backward till your pressed against the cool tile wall. Lower pelvis holding your soft body in place so his hands can dance over your cotton covered plush form. Palm’s flat against your thick waist, slowly dragging them around and down to cup your generous ass. Squeezing firmly and making you gasp.

Using the opening as a way to work his tongue back into your mouth, delving in for another taste of your sweetness. Low groan existing when rearranging his mouth to fit differently and snag a gulp of air. Stubble abrading your chin in the most spectacular of ways. Pooling heat low in your belly and making your mind wander in other more salacious directions. Brought back from teetering on the deliciously desirable edge by a sharp bite, his teeth nabbing your bottom lip to tug, letting go with a wet pop. Breath fanning out over your heated cheeks. Eyes once closed now open and locked with yours a pleading undertone to the desire darkened greens.

Knowing what he wants to hear and unable to wait along, “I love you too Dean.” Heart bursting with unrestrained joy flooding your system and making you love drunk.

“Thank fucking God,” groaning, resting your foreheads together still trying to reign in the wild thumping of his heart. Your admission only serves to make the largest muscle spasm quicker. All his pent up emotions, desires and needs flowing to the surface, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from rushing into something too fast. Remembering it’s still fresh and new between the two of you a different path to the relationship already established in friendship.

Giggling softly, you cup both his cheeks, thumbs brushing along his skin, three days worth of stubble abrading your palms. “So,” teasing smirk pulling at your lips, “I better call Will huh?”

“For?” Trying to keep the bitter growl from escaping and giving away his feelings on the sore subject. Tugging your soft body back in place from your wiggles to side free, not ready to let you go just yet.

Sliding one hand down his chest to rest where you know his anti-possession tattoo resides. Tracing the edges with the tip of your finger over the black t-shirt he’s wearing, locking eyes with his, “Seems I’m a taken woman. Wouldn’t want to lead the poor guy on now would I?” Watching how those whiskey flecked greens darken, pushing his lower body deeper into your plush form. Barely heard as you try not to give away the whimper of need his body produces in your own, with his pressed so tightly. Cool concrete keeping you body temp from over heating for the moment.

“No,” clearing his throat leaning in to draw his nose over your jawline. Touring towards your ear, catching the lobe between his front teeth to tug. Low desire filled growl leaving his lips, followed by, “Tomorrow is another day sweetheart and right now you’ve got better things to do.”

Heading tipping over granting access to the parts of your neck he wants, trying to keep the shiver from rolling over your body. Heat flooding your veins sparking a need you’ve never felt with any of the other men you’d previously had relations with. “What,” licking your parched lips, “what better things Dean?” Praying it’s the same idea rolling around your head for the longest time.

Pausing in his mapping of your neck and shoulder with his lips, Dean raises his head to spear you with a heated look. “Me for starters sweetheart, that is of course…” uneasiness has him trailing off the first time in his life. The bitter taste of uncertainty coating his thoughts for a fraction of a second before your lips land back on his.

Teasingly soft presses, little ghost touches of your tongue, playfully dotting his cheeks, chin and forehead with your lips before brushing close to his ear. “Hey Dean,” smiling against his skin, tenderly pressing your lips just south of his ear. Nibbling the found patch of sensitive skin behind committing the spot to memory for later. Breath puffing out quicker feeling him shiver, knowing what the next words would invoke in Dean and his love for the movie. “You big stud. Take me to bed or lose me forever,” sultry tone added to the cadence.

His eyes close for a moment, heart swelling as you recite the words to one of his favorite movies. Marveling at the fact you’ve remembered the lines perfectly and Dean falls deeper in love with you if that’s possible.

The gentle caresses of your lips against his skin setting fire to his nerve endings, room in his jeans becoming a hot commodity as his shaft thickens and throbs. Finding the distraction almost too much while trying to recall the next line. Teasing giggles reach his ears that he replies to with a deep chuckle. Words coming back to him, “Show me the way home, honey.”

Reaching down to tug one hand from your ass, chuckling with a shake of your head when it doesn’t budge but squeezes the generous globe. Notching himself tighter into your body, smirk appearing as your eyes widen, gasp issuing from parted lips. Bitting the inside of your cheek to keep from giggling before the words can escape. “Is that a pickle in your pocket or you just happy to see me?”

“Oh sweetheart it’s a great big dill I can show ya,” flashing a smirk, both of you trying hard not to laugh.

“Preferably,” deep voice tinged with slight offense but liberally coated in amusement. “In your own room so the both of you aren’t bare ass naked in the hallway bumping like bunnies,” having rounded the corner towards the kitchen and catching the intimate embrace. “A vision I don’t want branded into my skull thank you very much,” Sam paused arms crossed in annoyance. Golden dotted green eyes dancing with mirth, catching the playfully scandalous expression cross your features. Glancing towards Dean who buries his face in your neck getting a deep chuckle from his brother.

Try as you might to keep from busting out laughing they just rolled out of your mouth as your eyes lock with Sam’s. Acting stoic but the smile tugging at his lips and the teasing flash through his eyes speak a different story. Only thing holding you up is Dean’s body still pressed heavily against your. The man in question glancing up first to look at you then over his shoulder towards Sam. “Don’t even start Sammy,” grumbling good-naturedly giving him a middle finger salute and the opening you need to slip from between his hard body and the wall. Teasing growl rumbling through his chest at the loss of your warmth. Dean reaches out to snag your arm but you manage to dance out of his reach, giggles echoing off the walls trailing behind your disappearing form.

“Wouldn’t dream of it Dean but Cas owes me fifty bucks,” patent Sam Winchester smirk sliding over his lips. Brow raised at his scoff, “Can’t believe I had a betting pot going?”

Watching you run off happy grin tipping his mouth upward, he looks back at Sam grin still in place. “Just can’t believe it’s with Cas. Rowena maybe, Jody, Claire, Alex and Donna fuck yes but Cas,” incredulous look stealing over his features for a few moments.

“Who say’s the bet’s not bigger than you think,” broad shoulders shrugging same smirk in place, Sam enters the kitchen on that note leaving Dean to stare wide eyed after his baby brother. “Matter of time, always just a matter of time,” laughter tinged voice exists the kitchen, unseen shake of his head at the mess left behind.

Stock still for a fraction of a second till soft giggles echo quietly down the hall, grin turning into full blown smile. Need rushing back through his veins in remembrance of your position just a few short moments ago. Low curse existing his mouth, Dean turns racing off to find which room you’re hiding in.

Nerves tingled through your body, worry interrupting thoughts/memories of short minutes ago. Hard press of his body against yours, warm moist breath fanning out over your skin sending tingles of a different kind to skitter across your veins. But now standing in Dean’s room trying to figure out where to lay or stand that would invoke images of sensuality. You look down at your bare feet toes wiggling against cold concrete. Up wards to thick jeans clad thighs, a baby blue tank top covering your torso, self consciousness went out the window decades ago. After the first serious injuries you suffered at the hands of a vengeful spirit had you damn near stripped naked in front of Dean. Confidence in face of adversity knowing he’s the only one for miles around to patch you up.

Now though is different, same confidence but wishing for sexier clothing something to entice and tease. Small snort issues from the depths of your body knowing damn well you had nothing of the sort in your possession. Flannels, tank tops, t-shirts and jeans hunter’s required staples along with the functional under garments you groan at remembering are mismatched at the present.

“Beautiful even in those rumpled clothing,” deep voice breaking through thoughts and making a squeak sound as you quickly turn to face the lazily leaning against the door jam hunter. Arms crossed over muscular chest, biceps straining the black t-shirt’s sleeves, “I meant what I said before Sammy interrupted us.”

Tugging your bottom lip back under indented top teeth turning to face him fully, “Which part?” Barely keeping the mirth from bubbling over, “That I should show you the way home or you have a big dill?” Easy going banter calming your nerves even the part about feeling ill-prepared clothing wise.

Tender infused whiskey fleck green eyes turn molten with each sweep of your body. “I love you,” words escape as eyes stay locked, Dean pushing away from the doorway. Booted foot catching the hardwood door and slamming it shut behind him. Stocking towards you as a lion would his prey, licking parched lips wanting to devour you. Hands fisting at his side though to keep from reaching out and doing just that incase it’s something your not ready for.

His breath froze upon seeing you walking around his room, something akin to relief floods his veins along with a sense of rightness. Sure you’ve come in hundreds of times to wake him from a nightmare or mornings, to barrow music and to talk. Yet, this time feels different giving your relationship changed moments ago. Catching the indecision clearly written in those beloved eyes that don’t focus on one place too long. For a moment Dean wishes he could read your thoughts but then having hunted and lived together for decades he picked up the situation and cues without having to know your thoughts.

Pleased hum breaks Dean from the wondering trail his thoughts took him on to spy the sweet smile gracing your lips. Hands positioned on your hips one cocked to the side as you stand there waiting expectedly. Restraining himself, Dean opens his palms to bring them up and cup your cheeks dragging you against him. Lips meeting in the tenderest of kisses that he keeps in place while speaking, “You want this, want me?”

Recognizing his vulnerability and what he’s asking with those simple words, arms wrap around his back fisting the shirt tightly to press the two of you together. Love saturated eyes burn into those greens you could drown in, “That’s my question Winchester stop stealing my lines.” Flattening one palm to slide up and into his hair. Pressing another kiss to his soft lips you’ve only imaged kissing till now. The reality so much better than any fantasy you ever came up with.

“Calling me a thief now sweetheart?” Using jokes to cover the fact he’s searching for the right words. Flustered and frustration slither through his veins in a combination Dean’s not accustom, words stammering of unintelligible nature tumble from his mouth. The feel of your blunt nails sending pleasurable shivers down his spine.

Nodding, craning your neck back a few inches but keeping your eyes locked, “You stole my lines and my heart Dean so yes that would make you a thief.” Hand sliding over his back now and settling into the back pocket of his jeans, “I also meant what I said back there.” Catching the cocked brow you elaborate, “Take me to bed Dean I’m tired of waiting, I want to know how it feels to have you inside me.”

Soft groan issues from parted lips. Wanting to act on your words so damn badly his body vibrates with barely contained desire. Forehead coming to rest against yours, strong hands sliding too loosely wrap around and caress your neck. “You know I’m not great at relationships. I could seriously fuck things up.”

“I know but then so could I,” any doubts or insecurities evaporating into the ether with every look.

Callused fingers brush over your bare shoulders sending sensual shivers cascading down your body. Rubbing your thighs together for added friction with the heated look Dean’s fixing you with. Boosting your confidence to step back his hands drop to the side as you own pinch at the hem of your tank top. Slowly pulling it from your body, letting it drop with a barely heard whisper.

“Fucking hell sweetheart,” resolve snapping, reaching for your hips and tugging you back against him harder than intended. Lips sealing quickly to swallow the gasp existed parted lips Dean takes advantage of and slips his tongue inside the warm cavern of your mouth.

There’s nothing gentle about this kiss, it’s all teeth and tongues, fighting desperately for dominance. Pulling groans from the depths of Dean’s soul as he pulls whimpers and moans from your own. Till air becomes needed though it doesn’t stop your mouth from trailing a hot path across his stubbled jaw. Nibbling towards that little patch behind his ear to flick the tip of your tongue against. Smirking at the shutter rolling through his body, fingers dancing a rhythm over his shirt covered torso. Hem reached you tug twice to which he nods reaching behind him grasping and pulling the garment off to join yours.

Hands, palms flat immediately going to ghost over his rippling tummy. Muscle covered soften causing all moisture to pool south, clit throbbing almost painfully. Sure you’ve seen him bare chested before this time it’s different. For pleasure instead of patching him up. Drawing desired groans rather than pain filled. “I know Sam would abject but I so wouldn’t mind seeing you walk around shirtless.”

Full belly chuckle leaves Dean’s lips, “Sweetheart don’t talk about other men right now especially not my brother.” Possessive hands landing on your naked plush waist, fingers spanning the distance and gripping the flesh in his palm. Dreams having nothing on the real woman in his palms.

“Just stating facts sir nothing more,” trailing your fingers over the slightly hair roughen skin. Brushing pebbled nipples from the cool air and your proximity. Reserving a gasp when you lean forward to lap with the tip of our tongue and nip at the peaked point. Glancing to lock eyes as you switch and give the same attention to its twin giving the same attention getting a hiss from your actions. Dragging you lips upward to trace his tattoo with kisses.

Molten green eyes drinking in the sight of your lips on his skin, shooting desire straight to his cock. Throbbing need demanding attention no matter how good your soft lips feel against his body. “Baby girl,” groaning at the nip you place, eyes close to compose himself. Flying open as air cool brushes his skin inside of the shared heat of both your bodies. Mesmerized by the way you reach back to unclasp your bra, pushing your lushes breasts out teasing his vision, salivating for a taste of your skin.

He steps forward crowding into your space backing you into the bed till the back of your calves hit the edge. Wrapping his arms around your plush form to brush hands away and do the task himself. Finger tips skimming the edges of both straps till reaching the top at your shoulders and drawing them down. Keeping his eyes locked with yours while pulling the garment from your pliant body tossing it behind him. Eyes flicking down on a groan, licking his dry lips at the beauty displayed for his ravenous gaze.

“Lay down for me sweetheart,” meeting your lust blown orbs with his own. “I wanna see you in my bed,” biting off a whimper when you drop onto the edge. Bountiful breasts bouncing teasingly as he watches you slide backwards towards the head board. Hands going to the button of your jeans, low growl pausing your nimble fingers. “That’s for me to do baby girl, just,” swallowing harshly as he looks you over. Partially naked spread out over his bed picture perfect memory for those times when the darkness tries to steal this happiness. “Give me a moment to drink you in.” Unable to decide where to look first, “So fucking gorgeous.” Toeing off his boots, hands going to his own jeans your shaking head pausing the movements.

“I get the same pleasure,” licking your lips slowly while raising up on your elbows. Beckoning him with two crooked fingers, hand resting with the palms up beside your plush body, “Get up here before I get impatience and take matters into my own hands.”

Declaration making him pause a moment low growl rumbling from deep with in his chest. As desire blown green meet yours, smirk gracing his handsome features. One knee comes to rest on the mattress Dean leans forward keeping eyes locked while pressing a kiss to your ankle. Grinning, feeling the quiver that runs through your body. “You wouldn’t dare sweetheart,” adding his other knee to spread your legs and slowly fit his body between.

“Shall we make a bet Winchester?” Using your free foot to brushing the nearest thigh with the flat. Sliding towards the very noticeable bulge busting the seams of his jeans, toes teasing the thick ridge before pressing the flat of your foot against him. Rubbing the length slowly pleased when a growl echos the room.

Grabbing that foot tickling the pad enjoying the way you squirm and giggle. Taking the opportunity to move fully between your legs. “About that bet hum,” fingertips drawing an invisible path of fire down the middle your body. Bracing then both arms on either side of your shoulders hovering over you, warm breath fanning out over your cheek he nuzzles with stubbled chin. Pulling a whimper from your gasping lips.

Of there own accord, your hands slide up the strength of his arms and biceps to clasping fingers together around the back of his neck. Left leg draped over his waist to pull him against your pelvis, breathless moan parting your lips at the contact of his hard length pressing into your dripping center. “I don’t want slow or gentle Dean,” head tipping back to give access to his questing lips that find your wildly thumping pulse, sucking a mark into the soft skin. “We have all night for that I just…” words caught upon seeing whiskey flecked green eyes dilated almost pitch with desire. Cheshire Cat grin tugging kiss swollen lips upward.

“Just what sweetheart?” Humming, brushing your lips together before returning to his last spot. One hand dragging over your soft body cupping the generous globe massaging gently feeling the nipple peak against his palm. Teasingly circling the stiff nub with the tip of his index finger before giving a sharp pinch and making you gasp out. Back arching at the pleasurable pain skittering across your veins.

Grasping what’s left of your mind to try and form coherent words, body responding instead pressing your chest into his large hand. Nails score down his back, one completing the journey to give his ass a tight squeeze. As the other detours to between your intimately pressed body. Happy to find enough space to slot your palm against his erection, cupping his throbbing length and giving short little strokes. Smile blooming with a breathless groan against your collarbone where Dean’s forehead currently rests. Nimble fingers pop the small metal disk, pulling the zipper tab down to slip the hand inside. Warmth enveloping palm feeling him twitch has you slowly licking your lips at the mire thought of getting to taste him.

“You’re killing me Y/N,” rutting his hips into your hand, mouth coming back to claim yours in a punishingly bruising kill. Tangling your tongues together, nipping a little harder on your bottom lip than meaning to but the accompanying moan flows straight to his cock. Making him twitch against your palm that has slowed with the distraction of the kiss.

Breaking for air, panting while trying to form and speak the right words, “We’re both a little over dressed Dean.” Pulling your hand from the tight confines of his jeans, using the one at his ass to help pull them and his boxers down only stopping when you couldn’t reach anything passed his knees. Sigh of relief exists his parted lips making you giggle and press a kiss to his chin. “Feel better?” Bottom lip trapped and nibbled on as your fingers brush his length. Finding your fingers barely wrap around the girth while to stroke, palm sliding over precum leaking head. Hips thrust forward at the sensations tingling down his back gathering low in his belly.

“Now who’s over dressed?” Mumbling the words against your skin. Dean regretfully brushes your hand aside grinning at the annoyed huff that leaves your lips. “Ah sweetheart put that sexy pout away you’ll get a chance to taste me soon enough. Cause if you keep using that soft hand on my cock I’ll cum faster than I want.”

His words presenting so many thoughts to run through your mind only cut off when wet warm heat engulfs your right nipple. Tongue flicking quickly over taut peak, blunt teeth nipping then soothing over with the tip of his tongue. Switching to the twin leaving both sloppy wet and tight, gleaming in the low light of his room. Worshipping at the temple of your body with kisses pressed into your tummy, running scared callused hands over your skin in silent reverence. Eyes taking in very inch Dean sits back on his knees between your parted legs. Tracing his knuckles along the seam of your jeans covered cunt, making you jolt against him.

Pausing to strip your jeans and panties from your body, tossing them and kicking his own off to land somewhere on the floor. Raising up on elbows to finally get a chance to look at him in all his naked glory. Tracing each divot of scars over a broad chest, passing over the middle to admire thick bowed legs spread wide. Lips licked slowly upon landing on his ridge cock, slightly curved and resting against his lower belly. Palm itching for a touch, mouth watering for that taste. “You’re beautiful Dean,” words whispered so low your unsure if he’s really heard them.

Heat blooms over his cheeks at your admission, looking your fill of his adonis body. Dean returns the admiration. Tracing the features of your beloved face, staring a little too long at your heaving breasts, soft tummy he wants to nibble on at some point. Thick thighs he can’t wait to have wrapped around his waist once he’s buried deep inside your wet heat. The very though has his eyes dropping between your parted legs, glistening folds beckoning him forward. Caught in that tempting trance, Dean slides back between your legs. Brushing his lips just above your mound and receiving a whimper from you. Locking eyes, “I think you got that backwards sweetheart, it’s you who’s beautiful.” Dipping to run the thick flat of his tongue through your folds, humming at the tangy sweetness exploding over his taste buds.

Hips cantering against his mouth, your own letting a deep moan free as one hand slides down to card through his short brown locks. Tugging the strands getting a groan to vibrate against your cunt while his talented tongue dances through your soaked folds. Torturing your clit with ghosted touches, one arm wraps around our thigh spreading you open. As the other slips a finger inside your wet channel, finding you squeezing and tight, garnering a deep groan of arousal from the man between your lips.

“Dean,” voice wrecked and he’s barely touched you. When he doesn’t answer or budge from his sensual assault on your cunt. Lips having formed a perfect O around your clit, tongue flicking kitten licks to the tiny nerve filled nub. Pleased with he whimpers and whines that filter through his desire filled mind.

Resulting in you tugging on his hair harder, back arching as a small shock rocks through your body, tingling your belly when he bites carefully on your clit. “Dean please,” eyes rolling back into your head at the added second finger. Crooked and pressing into the little spongy spot you’ve never had anyone touch. Ripping a half scream from the hidden depths of your soul.

Smug smirk tugging over slick wet lips, stubbled chin coming to rest just above your mound. Watching as you heave a breath, breasts catching his eyes for a moment till you tug again. Fingers anything but still as they thrust and scissor you open, working you carefully to fit his slightly above average length not wanting to hurt you. “Yes sweetheart?” Licking his lips from your slick.

Free hand coming up to cover your heated face, “Don’t sound so smug,” gasping the last word when his thumb brushes over your clit making you jump and wither. Heat spreading from that special spot in your belly, where the tight coil starts to wind higher. Thick thighs tremble with each sensation Dean draws out of you. “Need you, please, please.”

Caressing your quivering walls with the gun callused pads of his fingers, massaging your clit as you plead. Breath chocked out on another moan, chest heavy, heat coating your skin as you wither under him. “Ah but I can’t help myself sweetheart you don’t know what seeing you like this does to me.”

Gathering what little strength you have in your limbs to reach down and cup his cheeks, thumbs brushing over the skin under his eyes. “Why don’t you get up here and show me Dean?” Voice wreaked yet a tender undertone rides through the cadence.

Pressing a single kiss to the pulsing little clit, giving once last flick making your squirm and Dean to chuckle. Slowly pulling his fingers out, stroking twice more your hips chasing the indescribable ecstasy winding its way through your veins. Only to have the tingles dance slower, the coil start to unwind as frustrated huff leaving your gasping lips.

Taking advantage to plunder your mouth, greedy for a sample of the wet cavern and a tongue tango that draws out a sharp moan of need. Especially tasting your tangy sweetness from his lips, sucking the bottom between your teeth to nibble. While reaching blindly over to the nightstand, damn near yanking the whole draw on the ground in his haste. “Give me a sec woman,” huffing out he rolls slightly off you. The noise drawing a giggle out causing him too stiffen, glancing back with a playful glare to refocus on finding his prize.

Using the opportunity to nose the thick column of his neck, taking in the scent of whiskey, leather and motor oil, peppered now with sex and sweat. Addicting and unable to help yourself from sink your teeth into his skin gently but hard enough to leave a small soon to purple mark. Soothing over with the flat of your tongue catching sight of the pause your actions caused. The aroused moan that leaves his lips, head resting on the bed to try and gather himself from your onslaught.

“Something wrong Dean?” Nipping just below his jaw, tracing your fingers along his side. Index finger swirling through the spares, crisp hairs leading a path to what you’ve craved to have inside you for a long time. Nimble fingers surround the base forming a perfect circle that can’t close but tightens. Stroking his length teasingly slow. In return receiving a warning growl — the sound devastating your senses making you throb — from the man currently fishing for a condom and growing frustrated when his fingers come up empty. “Shall I stop my love? Am I distracting you?” Whispered words breathed into his ear, lips kissing the shell. Knowing damn well just how tormenting you are to his senes and body. If his twitching cock your hand currently wrapping around stroking and the shallow breaths are any indication.

“Ha,” triumphant shout of accomplishment, Dean rolls back over you pressing bodies together and into the mattress. “Now where were we?” Flashing that teasing smirk with a hard rutting of his hips against your dripping core and tight fisted hand.

“What to you so long stud?” Biting back the giggles when he fixes you with a scowl.

Breath hissing out through clinched teeth when taking your hand off his cock, bringing those wickedly wonderful fingers to his lips and sucking on each one with a short nibble. Placing the open condom pack in your palm, “Do the honors sweetheart.”

Curling your fingers around the little foil packet, pressing your other hand into the back of his neck drawing Dean in for a tender kiss. Slow meld of your lips, light sips of your warm mouths. Tenderly tugging his bottom lip, to slide your tongue over the bruised skin and into his mouth. Licking and touring the heated cavern, seeking out ways to make his moan and grunt. A moment of forgetfulness while mapping his tonsils and sucking on his tongue, till you break for air. Chasing his mouth for more kisses only to receive a chuckle instead.

Eyes open to spear him with a heated look, foil packet crinkling in your hand a remind of your mission. Slipping fingers from his soft hair, to trace over his body, joining its partner between the two of your heaving bodies. Unlocking your eyes to glance down, hand wrapping back around his thick shaft to stroke twice getting a needy moan from the man above you. Before teasingly rolling the condom on paying special attention to the thick pulsing vein on the underside, mouth watering at the thoughts of getting to taste it later.

Dean grasps one of your hips to bring the leg around his waist, opening you up and feeling your soft skin under his palm. Sliding between your bodies to entwine his fingers with your, pumping his cock together. Different sounds, a hiss from Dean and a moan from you exists on shuttering breaths. Eyes reattach both blown with desire and coated in need, you notch the head of his cock at your entrance pressing the heel of your foot into the small of his back to urge him forward.

Teeth clamping to draw blood from your bottom lip but also to keep from screaming out in pleasure as he slowly sinks inside your quivering depths. Reaching up with his other hand to free your bruised lip, brushing the pad of his thumb over the glistening skin. “I wanna hear you sweetheart don’t hold back.”

“What about Sam?” Breath hitching, mouth hanging open on a moan that’s trapped on the edge of a scream when he bottoms out against you. Bodies flush, joined hands now resting above your head where Dean’s placed them.

Leaning in to press open mouth kisses to your lips and neck letting you adjust to his size, the exquisite stretch thumps through your veins the slight sting only heightening the pleasure. “Never mention his name while we’re in bed sweetheart,” snagging the lobe of your ear with his teeth. Pleased when you nod speechless, though not enough, “Words baby girl I wanna hear that prefect voice of yours.”

Swallowing trying to form words to answer, scoring your nails down his back an impatience mewling whimper leaves instead. Using the leg not wrapped around Dean’s waist as leverage to plant and push your hips up against him. Squeezing your walls tightly around his shaft drawing out a grunt from his lips. “Dean…” going to say more but he chooses that moment to pull out till just the crown rested inside your pulsing channel. “Just you…” hips snapping forward to fill you quickly stealing those words into a loud scream of ecstasy.

Starting a hard punishing rhythm, repeatedly waiting till your fixing to speak and either pulling out or trusting home. Always taking away what your going to say. Knowing your trapped between frustration and pleasure, Dean captures your mouth in another deep kiss. While his hips snap against yours, wrapping the other leg around his waist to angle you differently. Pressing your intertwined hands into the pillow beside your head and breaking the bruising kiss to gulp a lung full of air into both your burning lungs.

Feeling your walls start to quiver around his hammering cock, knowing by the pinched look on your countenance, the quivering of your thick thighs clutching at his trim waist. Heels pressing into the small of his back drawing him forward with quickened strokes that he’s shortened from the long deep thrusts. Notching your legs higher on his waist to press forward, curling his pelvis into your core, determined to make you cum first. Wanting to feel you soak his cock, see the looks of pleasure dance across your features.

Sliding his fingers through your soaked folds to find your pearl pulsing, pressing the pad of his thumb circling to make a gasp fly from your lips. Back arching, tingles no longer gentle but tap dancing a rhythm through your veins. Dean’s name a chant from your dry, parched lips, panting to try and fill your starving lungs. Body vibrating on a higher frequency only Dean’s turned in on as with every snap of his hips, brush of his thumb sends your spiraling deeper into euphoria.

Reaching up to wrap your hand around his neck to bring him back down for another kiss. This one sloppy as the thrusts of Dean’s hips, brief touches of lips, wet slide of your tongues across the other. Eyes sliding closed only to snap back open with a pinch to your nipple soothed over my his teasing fingers.

“Keep those beautiful eyes open for me sweetheart and cum for me I know your close. You just gotta let go for me,” resting your foreheads together, gritting his teeth to starve off his own orgasm. The wet clinch almost too much for Dean to handle. Always wondering but never imagining how good this truly would feel.

“Dean,” breathing out his name, a series of moans and whimpers following. Trying to capture his mouth for another kiss that’s broken off when your orgasm slams into you soaking Dean’s cock in your slick. Eyes rolling back his name a screamed prayer from your lips.

Body convulsing in pleasurable all consuming fire, little sparks of light pin prick behind your tightly closed eyes. Moisture breath fans out over your neck where Dean buries his face, lips pressing into your skin. Chasing that high while working you through your orgasm the wet clinch of your walls prove too much to starve off any long. Giving in with a groan of your name rubbed into your skin as he fills the condom. Circling his hips a few more times to drag out the pleasurable spikes racking his frame.

Collapsing into your arms a welcome weight pressing you into the mattress as you both try to capture your breath. He brings your joined hands down starting to untwine them but the shake of your head stops the actions.

“For a few moments longer,” voice hoarse from screaming out your pleasure. Free hand coming up to card through his sweat drenched hair. Brushing the strands back from his forehead and sliding your lips over his. Brief touches, lingering into something deeper. Tender caresses of mouth’s, nibbling, and sucking softly on bruised skin. Dean starts to move getting a whimpered whine from your throat tightening your arms around him.

“Gotta clear you up sweetheart I’m not going anywhere,” reassuring you with another soft kiss while carefully pulling out of your tender depths. Mesmerized by the slick coating your tights and dripping from your convulsing walls. Brushing his fingers over the reddening swollen skin, gasp reaching his ears, eyes flying up to yours. Then flicking across your body seeing the beard burn on your neck and chest, hand prints blooming over your hips. “Did I hurt you?”

Sitting up to cup his cheeks, “No Dean you didn’t hurt me. If you had I would’ve told you.” Leaning in to kiss him tendering, “Better take care of that mess it’ll get awful sticky otherwise,” giving him a bright smile. Watching while he gingerly takes the spent condom off, tying it closed before tossing it into the waste bin by the night stand.

Raising to walk on shaky bowed legs to grab up the wash cloth from the sink. Wetting with warm water he turns back stunned to find you watching him with a grin on your lips. “Like what you see?”

“Hmm no,” seeing the frown you go to finish. “Love Dean, I see the man I love,” frown switching to teasing smirk as he nears the bed.

Nudging you to lay back and spread your legs, tenderly wiping you clean. Dragging the warm cloth over your folds and inner thighs. Tossing it behind him to crawl into bed gathering your pliant plush body against his hard chest. Back pressed into his front, arms wrapped tightly around your thick waist. Placing a kiss to your shoulder, “I love to you Y/N, get some rest I’m far from through with you.”

Soft giggles vibrate into his chest, “Careful you’re getting old baby you sure you’ll have the stamina?” Toying with the fingers tapping against your tummy sending shivers cross your body.

Low growl accompanies the drag of his teeth over your sensitive skin, drawing a moan from your lips. Pressing his hips into your generous ass, “Give me an hour sweetheart and I’ll show you just how much stamina your man has.”

[gangrenados]

Could you do good things and bad things about datiang the Bat boys and Bruce? I ask you for bad things because relationships aren't perfect. Please

This is my first time ever writing for Bruce sooo pls be kind it has been a rough day

•First of all of them are vigilantes which means that they might have some issues separating his hero life with the normal one no matter how hard thet might try.

•They have seen the worst part of humanity and after you have witnessed those kind of horrors there's not turning back. Every imperfection in buildings, locations that have a questionable reputation and people who seem mightily suspicious will trigger their vigilante senses.

•what I'm trying to say here? They can get protective without even notice. After being the one in the line for to long you're afraid those you love might get hurt so you'll try your fucking best to prevent it, right?

Bruce Wayne

•Bruce has a hard time accepting the love and care of others, even if you have a long term relationship Bruce might be cold and distant towards you.

•He usually doesn't care about his scars since they're consequences of trying his best to help others, but when the time to get naked in front of you comes he's slightly worried you might get disgusted because they're too many.

•Bruce gets silent when you show him pure kind love, a gentle caress on his cheek will make him snap out.

•He'll stare at you without knowing what's the right thing to do, the only thing clear onnhis mind is that he wants this to keep going.

•Sometimes you wish you could wake up or fall asleep with Bruce beside you more often. It makes you feel forgotten. Bruce has tried to stay there when you wake up, even if that means rushing home to take off the suit, slip in the cover and pretend he's sleeping.

•Bruce can be pretty romantic when he wants to. He will take you to fancy places and bought you the most prettiest things in the world, Bruce will be comfortable in those situations, talking smoothly and secure since he's trying to put a little bit of his playboy persona into this to not ruin it.

•But silly things like cooking your favorite dessert or buying a pretty thing he saw nd know it will useful to you, will get him slightly flustered. The man is afraid he might fuck up.

•If you're a mere civilian then Bruce would be petty fucking protective of you, at the point that sometimes make you wonder if he's being paranoid.

•He will install a security system in your house and car, maybe a tracker too because you never know what criminals might do to the partner of Bruce Wayne.

I•t's hard for Bruce to express his emotions and talk about them, he feels like it makes him seem weaker. But when he opens up he will pour his heart into his words, maybe he wouldn't say much, but everything that came out from his mout he meant it with his soul.

•Your fights are horrible, it leaves you both broken and wondering if this gonna be the end. Bruce is too stubborn to back down and you don't want to be the one who goes to apologize first, so you'll end up treating each other with the cold shoulder.

•It's not the type to say "I love you" constantly, he reserves those words for important moments like when he has to go to a risky mission, your anniversary or he will blurt them out when he see you doing something adorable.

•Bruce is a mysterious man and that aspect is not going to change once they start dating. You will feel that he is hiding things from you, which is true, but it will take a lot of persuasion and confidence for him to tell you what is happening or why he does not tell you things.

•Much of his reason is that he thinks that if he doesn't say anything to you you may be safe and happy in ignorance, however, he also does not want to link his romance to his work.

•Connecting in an emotional way with Jason is hard and even when you're there he tends to close and keep a lot of things to himself.

Jason Todd

•Jason hates how being in touch with his emotions makes him more vulnerable, once they see the light there's nothing that can stop the overwhelming wave of feelings that comes to drown him.

•Once Jason becomes truly comfortable around you he will get clingy. He needs you in order to him feel alright, it's like you bring up a nice part of him he wasn't even aware of it was there.

•You're the nicest thing Jason has ever had so far and he's down to do anything to make you stay. He can stop being Red Hood and live a normal live, change his personality for one you like better, whatever you want in a man Jason can try to copy it, but please don't leave him.

•He's a really attentive and supportive boyfriend, this trait is driven by his need to prove you his total love and attention because that shows he's worthy of your love. But putting that aside, Jason truly cares about you.

•Jason is not really used to receive romantic affection so he might shy away sometimes when he becomes aware of what's going on. It's like his mind can't process that other person wants to be romantic with him.

•Jason can get really protective of you and this worsen a little bit more if you're a civilian who knows little to nothing about self defense.

•Jason is a cuddle monster, having you between his arms is soothing and lovable. He loves this little domestic things, but it's better if he's the one on top of you or hugging because he can get out of the touch easier.

•It's better to not fight with Jason, he's not going to hit you or anything, in fact he prefers to cut his own arm with a fork before landing a hand on you.

•However, he can say some mean and hurtful thigs because he wants to win the argument regardless of how bad the consequences might be.

•It might not look like it, but Jason loves to do the silly cheesy things with you.

•He will engulf you into a tight hug and then give a breathless kiss anytime he comes back from a long mission, having you to cook with him regardless if you know what you're doing just because he thought it would be cute, cuddling with you in the sofa and read a book or just watch a movie (Jason will fall asleep snuggled up to you because he feels safe)

•Jason has night terrors and he can turn pretty paranoid whe he just wake up from a nightmare, so it's better if you stand back for a moment until he calms down and realizes that nothing bad is happening.

•He keeps a gun close to him in case something happens and has night light because he can truly stand to have the whole bedroom in complete darkness, also he tends to keep you close to him when you're sleeping togheter because, even when Jason is asleep, he needs to know you're there.

Dick Grayson

•Dick is a sweet boyfriend, he's caring and charming to the point that sometimes you wonder if you're dating a prince.

•Dick's supportive of your interests and will cheer you up if he feels like you're lacking motivation. He will praise you and give you a compliment whenever he notices you did something good or when you go to tell him a good new.

•It's hard to have some alone time with him thanks to his busy schedule. Dick can't stay still, he needs to work and protect the city, because he cares about the others but also needs the action to live.

•Dick is a cheerful man, the occasions were he hits rock bottom are odd but they happen.

•And he tends to close himself to the world and drown in his own sorrows for a while. It's hard to see him like this and the worst part is that he doesn't want to ask for help until his mind is a little less darker.

•Dick is a really affective boyfriend, he will grab your head and pepper it with kisses as he says how much he loves it, also he has the habbit to put an arm around your shoulders or waist whenever you're walking together.

•Another thing he always do is pulling you back to the bed and put himself on top of you so you won't go.

•Dick would nuzzle his head in the crook of your neck and give it a kiss before going back to sleep.

•Dick is a man low-key scared of commitment, but will still idolize you.

•It's hard for him to settle down and decide for one thing, he will overthink everything and try to look at your current situation for every single angle possible, however, in his eyes you're a great person, sexy and just amazing.

•He might even twist everything and think you're already dating when nothing really has been confirmed.

•Okay so this one goes for his Titans version: I don't know why, but I feel that sometimes Dick can manipulate your needs and turn them into his own desires, to be more concrete emotional blackmail.

•He could do this unconsciously and without really wanting it, because once he realizes what he did he will feel very bad about himself, which would lead him to isolate himself from you for a while to think about everything he has done and then apologizing .

•It's hard for Dick to do so because being aware of what he has done to you, but he needs you to know he feels deeply fucking sorry and he understands if you want to broke up.

Tag list @bathroom-sand @aterriblelangblr @simpery @strangerthings14 @jyarumu0619 @kellieriddle96 @adarksoul098 @rosethegothamhistorynerd @duckmylife18 @panic-attheplace @malfoys-demigod @darkraven1983 @magicisabluewish @hamdehlesmis @lucy-roo @lovelyartemisa @missmaskedwriter @c0-77 @ginevraxrogers @imagines-fluff-yandere-smut @shadygoateeprincess @nervousfandom @ghost-bitch @silverw19 @thegirlwholovesbooksblog @hecatemacbeth7 @unknowntoanyone @mistalli @screechingghostbananafarm @psych0crybaby @barnowl48 @waroncheer @lady-stirling @ghostly-ginger @greeknerd007 @caswinchester2000 @sara5208 @la-femme-lupita @jasonsballsack @violettessuniverse @wondergal21 @disnerd626 @pree-2003-blog @dreamxcollide @thirstiestpotato

[5uptic]

crewfu: fanfic spotlight!

We work together by Anonymous (5up & DK, unrated, gen | 248 words)

Summary: One likes plants and baking, the other loves to create and design video games. They stay up and create monstrosities together, it's their fun, it's their favourite game. Aka a 5up and Dk roommate au!

No matter how life tangles, I’m still here with you. by hungryandsleepy (5up/Steve, general rating, m/m | 279 words)

Summary: 5up has been working so hard on his new map, and of course, he needs someone to give him a motivation to go to sleep.

objectively pretty by vesque (5up/Steve, general rating, m/m | 462 words)

Summary: steve is drunk. he's pretty sure 5up is too. that doesn't mean being called pretty is any less momentuous.

you plus me by mangoedges (5up/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 489 words)

Summary: 5up and Steve meet.

he said to me by mangoedges (5up/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 656 words)

Summary: 5up and Steve share a moment.

by the snowmen by mangoedges (5up/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 670 words)

Summary: Steve has a moment when it's all over.

today you got to know me (a little bit too slowly) by runninohhoney (5up/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 675 words)

Summary: Steve lights up a cigarette. 5up doesn't smoke.

what would it take by mangoedges (5up/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 787 words)

Summary: It's Steve's first mission. He hecks up. Or does he?

sorta cute by floweruru (5up/Steve, unrated, m/m | 822 words)

Summary: ‘I wouldn’t do that,’ he said. ‘That’s just disrespectful,’ he said. Yet there was 5up, crushed like a can in Steve’s embrace, feebly kicking at nothing as his feet leave the pavement.

i was gonna kill u, but ur kinda cute?? by Cthulhuer (5up/Steve, general rating, m/m | 1k words)

Summary: Steve is a mess and 5up is worse.

I hear a Symphony by AwkwardAce (5up/Fundy, unrated, m/m | 1.1k words)

Summary: He exhaled until his lungs ached for air, fingers twitching as he opted to remove the sleek white gloves he wore in a feeble effort to soothe himself. It didn’t work. He wrung his trembling hands together as his eyes raked down the worn leather case taking in the doodles- some etched some drawn- across the faded surface. He snapped the buckles open and his breath hitched, catching in his already tight throat. For a moment the world span, his head throbbed and he wanted nothing more than to run and hide. 5up breathed out slowly, shakily.

staring by lytriis (5up/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 1.1k words)

Summary: steve asks 5up out. 5up doesn’t know how to respond.

and it's four am, and yet, you're here by vesque (5up/Steve, general rating, m/m | 1.2k words)

Summary: in which steve shows up at 5up's house, in the middle of the night, completely spontaneously

more than this by mangoedges (5up/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 1.2k words)

Summary: Steve catches 5up venting.

3:15 by vesque (5up/Steve, general rating, m/m | 1.2k words)

Summary: Steve tries to guess Five's name. It's much more difficult than he anticipated.

things were different by fourpebbles (Apollo/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 1.5k words)

Summary: His eyes circled around to his friends, Kimi and Janet engaging in pleasant comversation, sleepy and becoming increasingly more sober. He looked, finally, across him, and caught Dumbdog staring at him. What now bro, what did this guy want. small talk, turns into not small talk, then there's no talk

Once Upon A Dream by SmearedWords (5up/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 1.5k words)

Summary: 5up looks ethereal, while Steve is struggling to breathe. "You're not real either." Or: Steve has a crush and a nightmare in three parts, 5up is tired, the crew life is hard and Polus sucks.

the ones you love will call you back by homeward_bound (Apollo/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 1.8k words)

Summary: stevesuptic: dude, is it weird that i miss vegas   DumbDog: No? I do too.   stevesuptic: okay [steve misses vegas and apollo. they talk about it]

cough it out by cj__writes (Apollo/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 2k words)

Summary: Apollo thinks that Steve must be well and truly gone, at this point, because he giggles, like Apollo’s just told a particularly funny joke. He looks Apollo right in the eye and asks, “Do you trust me?” “Absolutely not.”

ivy by Secular_Czar (5up/Steve, teen rating, gen | 2.1k words)

Summary: It might be a sad day, in general, but Steve isn't about to let it get to him. His friends won't ever let him wallow either.

The Colosseum by WhenTheFogClears (general rating, gen | 2.1k words)

Summary: Five squinted, looking at the colosseum intensely. He thinks Apollo was latched onto the sphinx’s shoulder, fur matted with blood. Janet was slumped against a column, probably out, with Kimi whose bow was snapped in two, her leg twisted at an odd angle. DK was in the corner trying to cast various supporting hexes and charms with a broken arm, whilst Hafu was dragging a heavily bandaged Steve away. or 5up slaughters a cat

Oneshots :) by woofles1990 (5up/Fundy, 5up/Steve, teen rating, multi | 2.5k words, oneshot collection)

Summary: Just a bunch of MCYT/Among Us oneshots, mainly featuring 5up's crew because yes :)

the adventures of 5up and steve staying up late because they're under 30 by 5280ft (5up/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 2.5k words)

Summary: “The night is young!” Steve yells at the ceiling, throwing his hands up in the air. “Take advantage of it! Commit crimes! Fuck hoes!” Five catches his hands in the air and laughs. “You wish you had hoes.”

unreasonably in love by cj__writes (Apollo/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 2.6k words, chaptered WIP)

Summary: "It was like pieces of a puzzle, everything coming together. And now, here they are, standing in their apartment, which looks more like a hollow shell than a home, filled solely with scattered boxes and the minuscule amount of furniture that they brought with them to Vegas." Or: what happens after Apollo and Steve move in together.

cant be love by fourpebbles (Apollo/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 3.5 words, chaptered WIP)

Summary: He had chuckled to himself, he felt so stupid. Who in their fucking minds names a playlist 'sugr?', he thought, internally cringing. A story where a Steve meets an Apollo, and some things happen.

Somewhere in the darkness, us together for a while by tumtummeke (Apollo & Kimi & Steve, teen rating, gen | 3.6k words)

Summary: Apollo worries about Steve. Steve breaks his vape pen. Kimi plays power washer. Self-indulgent angst, with a generous helping of friendship and cuddles.

odyssey by 5280ft (5up/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 23k words, chaptered WIP)

Summary: "First you will come to the Sirens who enchant all who come near them. If any one unwarily draws in too close and hears the singing of the Sirens...they warble him to death with the sweetness of their song. Therefore pass these Sirens by and stop your men's ears with wax that none of them may hear." -Homer, The Odyssey

Also: SilverSprinklez10‘s yupwaves collection.

Summary: This is a Harry Potter AU based on the characters/personas of the youtubers/streamers.

FAQ:

Wait what is this: pretty straight to the point! i’ll regularly share crewfu-related fanfictions to this blog :)

How regularly is “regularly”?: great question! LOL. it depends on the flow of fanfics that get uploaded, which i do not have any control over, but i’m looking forward to do this twice a month. after all, it’s only me doing this and i often run on a tight schedule.

What’s the format like?:

[title of fic with link] by [author of the fic with link] ([main pairing(s), if there is one/multiple], [fic rating: eg, general rating], [relationship: eg, m/m] | [word count in k] ([added prompt to specify if it’s complete or not)])

Summary: [summary provided by the author. if it doesn’t have a summary, a “No summary” prompt will be put instead]

(What does WIP mean again?): Work In Progress :)

Why are you doing this?: from the beginning, my blog has hosted conversations about RPF (real people fiction) and crewfu pairings. this has evolved into people sending me updates about certain fics in the crewfu tags every now and then, but i wanna take the next step and just do these things myself. after all, i’m already lurking in the tags often to see the fics that get posted. as someone who is both a writer and a reader, i wanna appreciate fanfic writers and help out other people that want to read fanfic and consume more fandom content!

Will it be AO3 only?: well, ao3 has a very helpful tag system that makes finding fics incredibly easy, as well as allowing people with no accounts to like and comment on fics, so that’s the site i will personally look in for fanworks. but if there are any fics you’ve written or liked in any other platforms, such as wattpad, you can always contact me through my inbox (send an ask or a dm!), and i’ll make sure to include for the next fanfic spotlight :)

Does it mean you won’t reply to fic asks anymore?: yeah, i guess. since i’ll be doing the searching myself it seems counterproductive. but if i ever skip a fic or again, it’s in another platform, or you’ve posted/read the fic a while ago and you want to get more traction on it, hit me up and i’ll take it into consideration!

Will you read every single one of the fics on your list?: oh no. again, i run on a tight schedule, and also i have my own taste when it comes to fics. i won’t be reviewing fics or any of the sort, and my intention extends to simply sharing these fics to this page so people will have easier access to them :) that’s where ao3 tagging becomes SUPER useful!!!

So what’s the criteria for the way you’ll sort out the fics in your list?: word count, going from lowest to highest. in case of fics in other platforms, i guess i’ll put them at the top of the list. i’ll also be looking for fairly recent fics, so let me know if you want any old-ish fic to be included.

I see you talking mostly about 5up/Steve and Steve/Apollo. Can I still send/see other crewfu fics?: why yes absolutely! my goal is to push every fic which heavily features regular crewfu characters - 5uptic and supdog just happen to be very popular pairings. so, to give you a list: core 4 (5up, hafu, dk, steve), apollo, aipha, annie, janet, kimi, ellum, koji... you know the drill. it doesn’t have to be centered on a relationship, or about 5up in specific, etc. my only requirement is that any of the previously mentioned members are a central part of the fic or are HEAVILY featured in it (sorry, minecraft fics with 50+ tags who only mention 5up as an afterthought won’t make the cut :/).

Isn’t shipping Bad™?: well, it’s a little more nuanced than that. i will go out of my way to discourage and shame people who often violate CCs’ boundaries by acting like so and so has a crush on this person, or that this and that are Actually Into Each Other or secretly dating. any sort of tinhat bullshit is a big nono (think larries). but i run on the assumption that people who write rpf understand that what they’re doing is simply write a completely fictional story using real life personalities, and understand the boundaries necessary to do it - aka they’re not tinhats, they understand they can’t assume everything about CCs’ thoughts and personalities, they understand that what they’re writing is strictly fiction, they keep these works only in fandom circles, etc. (but again, it’s only one me doing this, so please be kind if i don’t happen to know that this person is Actually a tinhat or whatever).

show fic: NO. (seriously. i don’t feel comfortable putting my ao3 account out there. please respect my privacy on these trying times <3)

I REALLY don’t care about your rpf/fic talk: fair! i’ll be tagging every single one of these posts as “fanfic spotlight”, so just mute the tag using tumblr settings so you’ll never have to look at these! likewise, you can follow the tag if you want to keep up with it, or search it on my blog to look at the other entries you might have missed (but this is the first one! lol).

Hey, my fic is here and I don’t feel comfortable with it being shared over here: no problem! let me know as soon as you can and i’ll take it down <3

[itsmoonphobic]

Phil's character and his life system on the DreamSMP won't leave me alone....Here is some interestin' facts I can't stop thinkin' about :)

We all know that the butcher army's number one target is Techno right? And they are planin' to get rid of him the fastest way possible by gatherin' information from people who interacted with him in order to find out where his current location is becouse nobody knows.Tubbo said that he expects posters to be hung up everywhere through L'manberg for propaganda,they want to gather as many people as they possibly can to be on their side against Technoblade,becouse together they are more affective.

So what would happen if the BA somehow reveals that Phil is in the possession of Techno's compass? That thing leads them straight towards his hideout in the north,without a doubt I think that the BA would immediately hurt/kill or hold Phil hostage in order to get the compass.Now if they actually decide to murder Phil,he would lose his only life becouse unlike the rest of the SMP Phil is stuck in the gamemode hardcore and he needs to play with a single canon life- while the other two lives he was meant to own were gifted to his eldest son Techno.

The thought of Phil dyin' to such a harsh reason like the government's revenge on his son is terrifyin' and truly heartbreakin'- I'm already scared for Phil and now long he will last before he loses his life,I don't want him to pass away this early into the new Arc.On one side,Ghostbur would finally have some spirit company from his father but both Tommy and most importantly Techno would be absolutely devastated and furious.I don't think that most of the players on the SMP are aware of the fact that Phil's life consists of only one chance at said life,they most likely believe he will just respawn and continue on with the rest of his lives- But that's not the case.

If he dies once it's all over- so to imagine that Phil gets killed becouse the BA requires the compass to track Techno down makes me really sad and also excited??We all know how much Techno cares for Phil,we know he would kill in order for his father,his only friend,to be safe.He has shown the overprotective nature he has around Phil's presence and we have also noticed how much of Techno's trust and loyalty rests on Phil's shoulders.Not only did his son give him a compass to always run to him in the need of help or anythin' really- but he practically opened his heart for him.Afterall,Techno did mention that he would give Phil the world if he desired so.

Now I already know the reaction we would get out of Techno if the BA or anyone really was dumb enough to try and go agaisnt Phil- It would end in mass genocide and complete destruction over the whole server.Techno might be in retirement right now,takin' a small break from his violent and bloodthirsty nature,but I wholeheartedly know that the moment somebody even lays a single finger on Phil it's already too late and pretty much over for them. Techno would,without hesitation,ruin them and make their life a livin' definition of a nightmare you can't wake up from. He would go so far as to destroy everyone and everythin' in his path to avenge Phil and his life,becouse in Techno's eyes his father was the last person who deserved to die.

Now that Phil's gone Techno is all alone,by himself in a world that's controlled by a government he so desperately tried to tear apart and let it crumble to pieces- He would be confused,scared and thirsty for revenge.Phil's death is a major problem in the whole plotline,especially the one Techno is writin' for his character! I really hope that nobody attempts to try to get to Techno by usin' Phil,it wouldn't end well in any way whatsoever and would only make things worse.I don't really know how Tommy would react but I know that his relationship towards his father in the SMP isn't the best,we all know that he's careful aswell as skeptical around Phil becouse he sticks close to Techno, Tommy's eldest brother and the person he hates the most. [for now atleast,i just have a feelin' that both Tommy and Ghostbur will join Techno's side soon and that the right time hasn't come yet for them to realize this-]

What I'm tryin' to say here is that if Phil dies,he's gone forever.There are no second opportunities,once those ten hearts are all drained from their red color it's over.I would be so dejected and sorrowful if the BA actually considers the idea to take that one,precious life away from Phil.And now that I think about it- Phil is conflicted.

On one side,the first thing he did when he arrived in L'manberg was murder his own son in cold blood,and the worst part was that Phil didn't even want to do it- He was handed over the blade by Wilbur himself.And by rebuildin, the city,Phil is workin' on finishin' his son's unfinished symphony for him since he isn't here to do it himself.And not only that but he also has to take care of the ghost of said dead son which is extremely tragic to think about.He wants to gain the citizens trust and wants to keep all of them under control by keepin' the atmosphere light.Phil's grandson,Fundy,is now also under his care which is a extra task on his part,add the fact that Wilbur forgot most of the things he committed and Phil tries his best to make him remember and recollect his lost memories.

Then there's Tommy,the most complicated son he has to deal with throughout all of this.Not only did Tommy get exiled- but he lost his best friend,his brothers and their beloved city they created together.His discs are the only thing dancing around in his head and keepin' him sane,due to the neglect and loss of major importance he became suicidal,thinkin' about losin' his last life to himself.He's all alone and is blamin' everyone else as the bad guy,he doesn't understand that half of the reason this happend to him was his own fault,his own selfishness and greed.Phil knows Tommy's stubbornness and temper,his hot headedness and that all he wants is everythin' to be the way it was at the beginnin' when it all started-

How Techno is,no doubt,Phil's favorite son.Their relationship is strong and built up on solid ground due to the past they spent together by eachother's side.Their bond and healthy correspondence makes them an unstoppable duo and Phil would do anythin' to keep it that way and enjoy his son's company as long as he can.He helps Techno with both small tasks and difficult quests,if he invites him of course,Phil would never tag along if Techno doesn't want company.He understands Techno,he understands the way he thinks and acts,the reasons behind his decisions and all of his activities.Phil was the first person to show Techno what it felt like to be loved and cared about,to be accepted into a world full of misery.And in return Techno granted him his respect,kindness and loyalty to keep up their parallel.Phil knows if he would join Techno that the way others view him would instantly change and shift towards bein' negative.

The fact that he has a Antartic Empire shield proves how much he wants to be on Techno's side and bring back the vibes of the empire they lead in the south,it's pretty much obvious that he's virtually already on Techno's side but he doesn't make a final statement on it whatsoever.He never spoke up about it genuinely,he never confirmed the suspicions of him joinin' Techno but I think it's self explanatory who's side he will be on.

And now comes the prison- Probably the most fucked thing that has ever been created.The idea was requested by Dream and Sam is the one deconstructin' it righ now.As for now we don't know much information or details about this jail but we for sure know who it's meant for- Techno.Like Dream stated when asked about it "Somebody who is very capable" and "Somebody I can't kill" which clearly describes Techno- He may never die,but it can be attempted to contain him in a cell.Now my prediction is that the BA and maybe even more people [Dream,Sam,the Badlands,etc.] will capture Phil and hold him imprisoned there until Techno willingly comes along to save Phil's life,they will certainly lure Techno in there by usin' his father as bait.

I have no idea if ANY of this stuff wiln actually happen' in the SMP,but even if they don't- Phil's character and story progress is one of the most underrated and interestin' ones.

[nerves-nebula]

WAIT IT WAS YOU THAT MADE THE HUNTER "BELOS ENTITLEMENT TO HIS EXISTENCE" ART POST OMG

It is sosososo good, like the aesthetic of it and the colours and snippets of scenes? the composition and message and influence of lore? Everything about it is so good I am obsessed over it, it captures Belos' unhealthy attachment and further spiraling so well and the impact and It Is Very Good

AWWW SHUCKS, you're makin me blush :>

[jeonggukingdom]

house of cards (m)

pairing  ⟶ jungkook x fem!Reader (feat. Namjoon & the rest of the boys)

synopsis  ⟶ What does safe mean when you are chased by zombies, when every corner you turn could be the last one for you? What do words like home and future mean when you’re always on the run and every moment could be your last? They mean nothing and everything at the same time and Jeongguk is all of the above. He is your safe haven, he is your home and he is your future. But things like that crumble easily in your world.

genre  ⟶ smut, angst, apocalypse!AU, zombie!AU   

rating  ⟶  18+

word count  ⟶  17.453 words

warnings  ⟶ graphic depictions of sexual intercourse, hair pulling, marking each other with admittedly too many hickeys, teasing, couch sex, fingering, dirty talk, pounding, kind of soft sex but also rough sex?, multiple orgasms, a little tiny drop of chocking because why not, oral sex (receiving) because we all know I can’t resist and have to put this literally in every fic I write lol. Death, violence, blood, gunshot wounds: all of which include graphic descriptions. [I AM TERRIBLY SORRY].

author’s note ⟶ this fic has been written for the “Bulletproof Bingo” project created by @ficswithluv​! You can find the card I received here (click!) but to make things more fun and keep the surprise I blurred out all the songs except for the five songs in the same row that I’m going to write first ;)  A special thank you to @inkedxclouds​ for reading the opening scene and encouraging me to keep on writing it! Your words (and advice!) really helped me so really, thank you again ♥

song title ⟶ House Of Cards - BTS [ lyrics that inspired the story the most:  “A house made of cards, and us, inside / Even though the end is visible / Even if it’s going to collapse soon / A house made of cards, we’re like idiots / Even if it’s a vain dream, stay like this a little more /  As if there’s no such thing as tomorrow / As if there’s no such thing as a “next time” /  Right now, in front of my eyes, everything without you / Is a terribly pitch-black darkness” ]

tag list ⟶   @mrcleanheichou​​  • @ayujaded​​ • @vera6483​​ • @peterrogers15​  • @ggukkieland​

The city is on fire.

The flames dance in the air, tint everything black and red and menace to reach up the sky, bring that down as well so that truly nothing is left unscathed in the entire world. The heath burns his flesh, makes his eyes water, turns his throat dry and he doesn’t need to look behind his back to know you can feel it too, to know how fast your heart is beating inside your chest, thumping hard against your ribs like a trapped hummingbird inside a cage. He doesn’t have to look to know your chest is heaving, that fatigue and panic are taking over your entire system. He doesn’t need to, but he still tilts his head slightly to the side, fixes his gaze on your face for a whole second before turning back around to take in the destructive scenery all around you.

His legs move faster. They hit hard on the dirty and sleek bitumen, seemingly indefatigable, but the truth is that the only thing propelling him forward is self-preservation and the knowledge that if he stops, even for a second, he’ll be dead and you right along with him.

But Jeongguk is not stupid. He knows you’re both reaching your breaking point, that you won’t be able to keep on going much longer and that knowledge turns him desperate.

There has to be a way out. He refuses to believe this is the end. No, no, he will not allow it.

His fingers are wrapped tightly around yours and he tugs on them harder, pulls you closer to him so that he can feel the warmth of your body, your heavy breath hitting the back of his neck every now and then. Like this, he knows you’re alive, that you are both still here and most importantly, still human.

Neither of you dares to take a look behind your backs and truth is, you don’t even have to. All it takes is for you is to close your eyes—or even blink—to see them.

Skin of a sickly ashen grey. Eyes void like an abyss, black as coal. Mouths open wide in a perpetual silent scream that haunts both of your dreams every single night. Teeth ready to bite, rip the skin off and let the blood soil the bitumen and fill their monstrous mouths. Arms outstretched to grasp you, to pull you into them to scratch and rip the skin until nothing of you is left, not even your soul, and you are one of them. Another little piece in the ever-growing army of walking corpses.

All it took was two weeks.

Two weeks for the whole world to crumble down, splinter into tiny frail little pieces of glass and all by the hands of monsters that only used to live inside TV screens on Halloween: zombies.

Jeongguk curses under his breath, swiftly turns to the left in a vain attempt to confuse the brain-dead creatures right behind your backs but he knows it won’t work, not this time, not when there is so many of them.

He dares another look at your face and the utter terror he reads on your features turns his heart smaller inside his chest.

He swore to protect you.

One year ago, in front of your families and friends, he made his vows. What was it that he promised? To love you and cherish you until the end of his days, to protect you and grant you a happy life. And now what? What happened to all those pretty words that filled his mouth back then?

Lies. Lies. Lies.

Everyone you ever cared about and loved is gone. Everything you ever knew is gone. All in the blink of an eye. There were no goodbyes, no mourning, no nothing. And he can see the toll it has taken on you whenever he looks inside those beautiful eyes of yours. Once upon a time, they used to shine like stars in a night sky but not anymore—just another thing to add to the list of what those monsters have taken away from the both of you.

Your legs are tired. Your lungs are begging for air and all you can think about is just letting go, just let your body fall and claim the desperate rest it needs. When was the last time either of you had a proper night of sleep? When was the last time nightmares didn’t wake one of you in the middle of the night and successfully kept you awake through most of it until the sun was back up in the sky?

Jeongguk curses, his voice quivers around the edges alongside his limbs and he can hear your breath catch, get trapped inside your lungs.

Is this the end?

He gulps down heavily, bites on his bottom lip like he always does when he is focused on something, when he is so deep in thought the whole world disappears. But this time, the look on his face is one of panic and dread.

There is no way out.

Jeongguk curses under his breath again, forces you to take another swift turn to the left and you both know it’s futile and desperate but what else is left?

You don’t want to die like this, in a dark alley of a city you’ve never seen before, helplessly running away from the nightmares behind your backs. So you pray. You pray to all the deities known to mankind, even those you’ve never believed in because truthfully, this is all you have left, isn’t it? The hope for a miracle.

Jeongguk falters and you almost bump right into him. His name leaves your mouth like a shrill but it falls on deaf ears because right there, in the middle of the street, shining like a beacon, lies a car.

A car.

Amidst all the smoke and fire, standing amidst all of this wreckage with barely a single scratch on its surface, that car almost looks like a mirage, a freaking miracle. Or a curse. Too good to be true, too-fucking-good to be true. And yet, it is a chance. Perhaps your only chance. So he takes it. Because this is what your lives have been reduced to. A fucking gamble.

So he takes courage, treats this as a round at the Russian roulette where you don’t know whether you win or lose until you pull the bloody trigger and shoot yourself right on your temple. He takes courage and tugs on your arm, yanks it forward as he aims for the car ignoring both the yelp of pain and the shrill of panic that erupt from your mouth.

He ignores the way you call his name in question and horror as your eyes land on what to you looks like nothing but certain doom. He ignores the way you try to yank him in the opposite direction, the way your hand trembles in his grasp with nothing but fear, the way your breath catches as the creatures get closer and closer and closer.

You can almost feel their breath on your neck, you can almost feel their hands on your skin, their claws sinking inside the tender flesh to bring you down with them.

"Hurry!"

His shrill cuts through the air like a knife. Your heaving breaths fill the silence left in its wake and they mix with Jeongguk's and the monsters’ right behind your backs.

What happens next is nothing but a blur.

Curses and screams fill the air, your bodies pressed together inside the car as you pray to all the Gods somewhere up there in the sky to spare your life just this once, to not let the both of you die like this, in a city in ruin with not a single person you ever loved alive to mourn you.

You pray and maybe, maybe someone is really up there, listening and granting wishes because while the monsters surround you, while they shake the car and hit the glass with their fists and open mouths, Jeongguk turns the key and the engine roars to life.

An exhilarated laugh escapes his parted lips, shakes his thin body to the point he’s jolting on the seat whilst pushing with all his might on the pedal to propel the car forward.

Your hand searches his and finds it around the gearshift. Your fingers automatically lace together as if that is the very purpose they were created for and then, you close your eyes and the world turns black and subdues as you will it all away. The flames, the monsters surrounding you, the smell of fire and death that still fills your nose… they disappear just like magic as you push your thoughts far away from here.

You fill your head with images of your past life, one that almost looks like a dream now, something you’ve only seen while sleeping and not actually lived through. You fill it with laughter and kisses under the sunlight on that beach in Busan where you and Jeongguk finally confessed your feelings for each other. You fill it with the sensation of his warm hands against your naked flesh, you fill it with his beautiful, endearing smile. With the sound of his voice as he softly calls your name first thing in the morning or when he whispers it in your ears while you make love. You fill it all with him so that you can ignore the way the car shakes, the sounds of the monsters falling on the ground as the car drives into them, pushes them down on the bitumen and steps on them.

Slowly, silence envelops you whole and in return, your heart stops hammering against your chest like a caged bird and yet, it is still not enough to prompt your eyes to open because you know that the moment you do so, no matter how far away from the madness and horror you currently are, you’ll never be distant enough because this is your new life and all the happy images filling your head right now are nothing but long-gone memories.

Jeongguk’s eyes are trained on the empty street and yet he can almost see you sitting right next to him with your eyes closed and your cherry lips parted, breathing ever so softly and drifting inside your world of memories. He knows that world oh too well, being a frequent visitor himself. It’s easy to forget the nightmare when you close your eyes and just drown yourself in the past, push your entire body so down under the deep waters you can’t even hear a peep from the world raging outside. Easy and comforting.

It scares him. It scares him how effortless it is to just let go and pretend, to let your consciousness slip away long enough you could almost forget how to get back.

He calls your name ever so softly then, his voice sweet and rich just like your favourite filled chocolate doughnut—your usual breakfast on a weekend, when he’d purposefully get out of bed before you just to go buy some for the both of you to consume in the comfort and warmth of your bed.

The memory makes a small smile stretch on your lips but it quickly fades as stripes of bleeding red and violent pink start burning its edges, slowly reducing it to nothing at all.

The sun is setting in the sky, falling rapidly behind the hills ahead of you and bringing all the light right with it. An involuntary shiver runs down your spine for there is nothing you dread more than the night and the nightmares sleep always brings right along with it. Another day has passed and if only there were a set date, a fixed moment in time you know to mark the end of it all, maybe you’d be able to rejoice then but that is just another luxury you don’t have.

Jeongguk’s eyes move on your face then, just in time to catch the way your expression inevitably falls and your smile disappears as quickly as it had formed. The peaceful expression, the little glint inside your beautiful eyes still present a few seconds ago are once again broken by the cruel reality and Jeongguk hates himself a little for shattering the dream, for pulling you back inside this Hell right along with him but even that deep sense of guilt can’t overpower the relief of having you still right next to him, alive and well and… present.

So he offers you a little smile, a tug of his hand to prompt your eyes to shift away from the bleeding sky and rather fix them on him and the moment they do oh, how they make his heart beat loudly in his chest, how do they so easily bring warmth to his cheeks and limbs.

“We’ve made it, baby.”

Yes. You’re alive.

You laugh and nod your head a couple of times for him. And Jeongguk could swear you illuminate the entire car, hell, even the whole road ahead of you with that smile full of sunshine he fell in love with so many years ago, when you were still kids. And the more you look at him, at the way his eyes shine like stars and his nose scrunches up in that adorable bunny-like way of his, the bigger your smile gets and Jeongguk is certain that you, like this, are the most beautiful thing he has ever laid eyes on.

Deep down, you both know this is temporary, that this feeling of victory will be gone in a matter of a few hours when you’ll inevitably face another one of those monsters and yet, you allow yourselves to bask in the little joy you feel, in the glimpse of normalcy right within your grasp. For once, you decide not to care and rather live to the fullest inside this little bubble of happiness. A bubble so small and delicate even a breath could easily burst it.

“We did, didn’t we? Wow… I can’t believe it,” your voice is soft and filled with a little hint of the mirth that turned your lips upwards for the first time in days and Jeongguk can’t help but smile even further while focusing his eyes back on the road.

“Me neither,” he confesses, shaking his head a little for it does still feel absolutely incredible and so unbelievably lucky there must be a catch about the whole ordeal somewhere. He pushes those type of thoughts away with all his might, though, as he tries to enjoy the opportunity he was given to live another day right next to you because he hates this part of himself, the pessimistic side that everyday swallows a bit more of the person he used to be before this nightmare started.

It is the middle of the night when you finally come to a halt in what looks to be an abandoned city. One of many, you think to yourself as you scan your surroundings waiting for that telltale sign of danger that comes with the grunts of the famished walking corpses. The silence of the night welcomes the both of you, though, as you help yourselves out of the car and before you can even glance towards Jeongguk, he is standing right there, by your side, fingers laced around yours to keep you as close as possible. You smile at the tender gesture. It’s one of the few habits of his that hasn’t subdued just yet.

You know.

And even though most of the times you pretend you haven’t noticed the way he has changed—nor the way you have—you know he has and sometimes it is hard to ignore how empty his eyes look when they are not fixed on you, how thin his lips look now that they are always stretched into a harsh line and not pulled into a gentle smile and most importantly how often you catch his hands shaking and him balling them into fists to stop their incessant tremor.

You tug on his hand, offer him a gentle smile the second he looks at you and you imprint the sight of his smile in your memory, the way his eyes light up with a glimpse of the man you fell in love with. You map every single inch of his face just so you can remember him like this the most. Your Jeongguk, not the one the army of dead bodies has created.

You have never walked on a minefield before in your life but if you had to guess how it feels you’d bet he’d be a little like this as you walk through the empty streets in the middle of the night without having a single clue where to go, where to hide. Potentially, every turn could signify your demise. With every step you take, you feel like shrinking inside yourself, turning a little smaller inch after inch whilst your body quivers ever so slightly in fear and your heart aches as it pounds hard against your ribs.

It is Jeongguk that spots the abandoned building first.

The city has been turned to ashes, set on fire like your own and the one you saw after that, and the one after that too and so on into a trail of smoke, fire and destruction that has left barely anything unscathed. Yet this building looks somewhat decent, with the door still there—albeit swung open—and a few windows with the glass still intact to protect you from both the drop in temperatures and any unwanted guests.

A little winning smile forms on his lips then and he tugs a little on your arm so that you can hurry your steps, get to what promises to be your safe haven—at least for the night—as quickly as humanly possible without making a single sound so not to stir awake the creatures surely lurking in the dark.

Your steps are full of uncertainty and fear as you step into the abandoned building and walk on the broken tiled floor. With each step you take, you tug a little harder on Jeongguk’s hand in fear of what you might meet at the end of this long corridor and seemingly endless string of doors.

If it had been for you, you would have stopped at the first apartment with it being close enough to the exit to make a quick escape if needed. Instead, you keep walking and you only stop when there’s only a set of doors left and even though you know this is probably for the best, that it would be harder for anyone to find you here, that the brainless creatures are less likely to sense you so far away from the streets, you can’t shake the uneasiness prompted by the fear of getting trapped inside this place and not being able to leave it with your humanity still intact.

The door opens easily. Just a little tug from Jeongguk’s hand and it swings open to reveal a simple apartment with minimal and mostly-ruined furniture. The signs of struggle, of a hopeless fight, of the loss of other human lives, taint every inch and corner of this place that probably used to be filled with love and warmth once. You can almost sense the pain, the fear and horror. You can almost hear the screams as your fingers brush against the door, the walls, the little objects filled with memories on the furnishing. It’s just like echoes from ghosts that beg to be heard, to be remembered so that at least this little part of them can live on, forever human.

You gulp down heavily, force your eyes to tear away from the picture of a happy family still hanging on the wall and rather focus it on your boyfriend’s back as he walks inside the apartment just to make sure no surprises are waiting for you inside any of the empty rooms. You follow his every movement, you mirror every single step and fill your thoughts and sight with him so that it’s easier to bare everything, so that it’s easier to ignore and move on, to live and fight for your chance at survival.

His soft voice breaks the silence just to call your name and draw you next to him and you easily comply letting him lace your fingers together. He places a tender kiss on your forehead then before opening his arms to welcome you in his warm embrace. You feel your body relax into the familiar sensation of being completely engulfed by his strong arms, you feel your heart slowly melt as his scent fills your nose the instant you hide your face in his broad chest. He holds you like this for what feels like hours and he doesn’t have to utter a single word for you to know what fills his head and moves his heart. Fear, relief, love, guilt—you’ve felt them all, sometimes even all at once while looking towards him in the midst of one of your escapes and, inside this embrace, you can sense them all, hanging above your heads and weighing on his heart and shoulders.

Your arms wrap around him, tuck underneath the green jacket so that your fingers can fist the thin black shirt under it and pull him into you more so that not a single breath of air can come between your aching, broken bodies.

Jeongguk’s lips quiver, a trembling breath escapes his mouth as he lets himself break within your embrace knowing oh too well that you’ll help him put back together every single splinter of his being. He breaks without a single word or sound and yet you mend him over and over again until he’s whole once more and he can smile at you anew and mean it.

He doesn’t have to say anything. All it takes is one look from his glinting eyes and a nod of your head and in an instant, you’re sitting on the couch ignoring the ripped fabric and the dark stains on it in favour of the little food in your backpacks.

When you had it all, you had taken for granted many things: a roof on top of your head, an endless source of running water, good food on your table every single night. Now, you don’t even have half of that and yet, there’s a little smile on your face as you consume your dinner with your boyfriend sitting right next to you and that’s because even the stale bread in your hands tastes heavenly after days of pure starvation.

His mouth is still filled with bread to munch on when he fishes out the map from his backpack and his eyes start scanning the names of the cities you passed on your desperate run to safety. His eyes are eager and filled with hope and excitement and he looks so breathtakingly beautiful in this moment—even with dirt on his hands, dried blood on his clothes and dishevelled hair—that you can’t help but stare as you force down your throat the last bite of your meal.

You watch his eyes light up in recognition, you watch them scan the map again and again just to make sure and then you see his mouth open to form a little “o” of surprise and… excitement?

His beautiful eyes of coal fix on you then and the most dazzling smile twists his lips up to the side. An exhilarated laugh escapes his mouth, shakes his chest as he points at the map with the excitement of a little kid in a candy store.

“We’ve made it! Fuck, we’ve actually made it!”

You dart forward, steal the map from his hands to fix your gaze on it and see it for yourself. The safe haven, the refuge Yoongi and Hoseok had heard about and dreamed about every single night before they lost their fight is near, so fucking near you can almost see it now if you close your eyes and squeeze them hard enough.

The Refuge.

“How far is it from here?” Your voice trembles, coming out as soft as a whisper as you tilt your head a little to the side just to fix your gaze back on him.

A grin welcomes your words and you can swear stars are shining in his eyes as he bumps his shoulder into yours so that he can point at the map, show you the road you’ll have to walk on to get there.

“If we’re lucky and the car doesn’t run out of fuel we’ll be there by the end of tomorrow.”

Just a breath. That’s the fraction of a second it takes for you to lean forward and crush your lips on top of his, claim his mouth at the height of your euphoria. The colony of humans, the safe haven your friends talked about every waking hour you spent together is just miles away and the promise of safety and normalcy erases everything else in an instant.

In this moment, all that exists is you and him and the hope for a better, brighter future and with your heart beating so frantically in your chest, all you can do is get lost in him, in his sweet scent, in the heavenly sensation of his fingers wrapped around your frame and his lips roughly moving on top of yours.

You grab his face to pull him into you even more and Jeongguk gladly follows, moulds under your touch to fit on top of your body as you let yourself fall on the couch while still kissing his lovely lips. Your hands are eager, your tongue relentless as it seeks his own through his parted lips and the excitement and adrenaline mix together and build until what is driving your every movement is passion and desire and need.

A low grunt moves past his lips as you tug on the long strands of hair on the back of his head and he doesn’t have to open his eyes to know there’s a wicked smirk painted on your lips, a little knowing smile prompted by the fact that you know way too well how much he likes that, especially when he’s far deep inside of you, rocking his hips furiously to reach his high and bring you down with him.

Your fingers leave his curls in favour of his jacket to move it past his shoulders, let it fall along his arms until he’s unceremoniously throwing it away. But it is not enough to satisfy your desire of seeing him, touching him, claiming him. So your hands hook around the hem of his shirt to lift it off of his head and Jeongguk follows your desires, lets you guide him and take control over him with the barest touch of your fingers. A single brush of your digits on his feverish skin is enough to gather goosebumps on the flesh and blood deep down his crotch. His cheeks turn a lovely shade of coral under your gaze as you bite down your bottom lip while your eyes move up and down his half-naked body. It’s a sight you’ve seen countless of times before and yet, it still makes your mouth run dry and butterfly flutter in your stomach like the very first time.

A small smile spreads on your swollen lips the moment you catch sight of the necklace dangling from his neck. It glints under the artificial white lights of the streetlamps filtering through the windows, looking as if it were made of the purest glass on Earth. You reach out to touch the sharp point of the feather and then you take it within your grasp and tug on it until he’s falling back on top of you and your lips are tasting each other once more.

You drag your nails across his naked back ever so softly yet the sensation of the teasing touch makes him grunt and roll his hips into yours once in a form of retaliation that has you calling his name in a mix of a warning to stop and a plea to keep going. Jeongguk clearly decides it is the latter for he does it again, and again, and again until you’re fully whining his name inside the kiss and digging your nails harder into his naked flesh.

“You’re such a tease,” you whisper atop his mouth the instant his lips leave yours just so that he can look inside your eyes and oh, that little smirk on his lips is so enticing you have to fight against yourself not to kiss him senseless right then and there.

“Look who’s talking.” His voice is rough around the edges, laced with the desire coiling in his stomach that is making his blood boil and gather right between his legs.

You tilt your head a little to the side and let your fingers roam against his chest, stroke ever so softly the fine line of his abs just to watch them contract under your touch. You drag your hand further down his torso and you can hear the way his breath catches the moment your fingers are ghosting over his belt. Your teeth sink into the soft flesh of your bottom lip and Jeongguk curses under his breath as you let your hands move past that belt, get inside his jeans and palm his bottom cheeks through the fabric of his boxer briefs. You watch his Adam’s apple bob up and down, his jaw slacks as you tug on his hips so that he can press his confined member against your aching core.

Your body seems to catch on fire, turn into liquid flames right underneath his intense gaze and it takes again all of your willpower to not strip him naked in a second and push him deep right inside of you. But no, you want to savour this moment, make it last throughout the whole night so that you can rekindle properly with each other’s bodies after spending so much time running for your lives, out in the streets, unable to let yourself go and touch each other like you used to every single day before all hell broke loose. It’s been too long. Too long without his fingers on you, without his lips on your neck, without his sex battering yours in ways bound to make you forget your own name. Too-fucking-long.

He calls your name, wets his lips and begs with his eyes to give him more, in whatever form you prefer and you grant his silent wishes with the slow drag of your hands as they inch back towards his belt in order to free him at least from the confinement of his jeans. He releases a soft breath as you unbuckle it for him and then slowly unfasten both the button and the zipper and that same breath seems to hang in the air as your fingers palm him for the first time in weeks. His eyes close in bliss, his head tilts a little back and you drink up the sight of him like this, already getting ruined before you can even touch him properly. Oh, the things you’d do to him and let him do to you all at once and until neither of you can keep on going any longer.

That’s when you attach your lips on his skin, suckle on the firm flesh of his abs until a purple rose blooms there to mark your passage, followed by another and then another until he is whining and growing stiffer under your digits.

Your hands leave his groin and far too quickly for his liking judging by the little grunt of frustration that leaves his parted mouth but that one is quickly replaced by another as you push on his chest until his back is hitting the couch instead of yours and you are the one towering over him, ready to take control.

Your mouth easily finds his weakest spot on the side of his neck and attaches right there just so you can bask in the way his body catches on fire underneath yours, in the way he can’t help but arch his back a little into you, call your name and dig his fingers on the supple curve of your ass. His skin is tender and sweet and it takes so little effort for you to mark it with your eager lips and teeth that you can’t help the deep desire of wanting to mark all of him and turning it into a painting of roses in the shape of your mouth. You close your eyes and let your lips trace every corner of his neck, his clavicles and shoulders and you almost turn deaf to his pleas and whines and sighs of ecstasy. You almost lose yourself completely in the effort of mapping every inch of his skin until nothing is left for you to claim any longer and you have no choice but start all over again.

It takes his hands tugging on your shirt to rip it off of you for you to stop and it takes his mouth on your neck, his hips twitching underneath yours, his voice calling your name, for you to subdue completely and let him strip you of all of your clothes once and for all.

Jeongguk’s fingers tremble with the excitement growing stronger and stronger in his system and they turn rough on your tender skin as they finally get the chance to stroke and pull and feel it under his digits. It’s your turn to close your eyes and tilt your head back, it’s your turn to surrender to his desire-driven touches and mould and melt underneath it. It is your turn to whine and sigh and call his name and Jeongguk drinks up every second of it just like you did and the more he watches you like this, the more he touches you like this, the drunker he feels and the drunker he wants to get because hell, he had almost forgotten how sweet you taste on his lips, how heavenly you feel tightly wrapped around him, how breathtakingly beautiful you are like this, towering over him with nothing but desire filling your gaze.

The bare thought of your walls squeezing him oh so blissfully is enough to make him groan and claim your lips once more while his hands start inching down to where you desire them the most. The touch is simple and slow and yet you arch your back for him, roll your hips on top of his just to feel his length brush against your sleek core. His teeth grasp your bottom lip, pull it down in a way that has you hissing in both pain and excitement and you can’t help but roll your hips once more, bask in the sensation of his turgid member right between your southern lips. You tilt your head back as his lips find your neck once more, attach to the soft spot underneath your jawline to leave his mark there—something he knows to be your utter weakness.

A breathy sigh of elation escapes from your lips and you feel him smile against your skin, you feel his teeth dragging across your neck just so he can playfully bite your jawline next and tease you further. You whisper his name and it sounds like a plea to his ears and one that he is more than glad to take on because damn, he has missed touching you like this more than he even realized. The more his mouth kisses you, the more his fingers brush against your delicate flesh, the more he feels compelled to. So he explores your body more, basks in the way you sigh for him, arch your back, roll your hips, call his name and abandon yourself to his every touch. It is at the apex of your arousal and frustration that his fingers finally find the treasure right between your legs, the sweet spot he had been craving all this time.

The pads of his fingers brush against the sleek skin to gather your juices and slowly bring them up to his mouth so that he can taste them and hum as he sucks his own digits like he would if they were covered with honey instead. The scene is so lewd it prompts a grunt to leave your parted lips while the arousal deepens right between your legs, coiling down to his own turgid member. You watch his eyes zone in onto your dripping sex, you watch them light up with wanton desire and it is then that you beg him, truthfully beg him to lay his hands on you.

“Touch me, please.”

The plea is nothing more than a pained whimper and yet it rings loud and clear into his ears and, oh God does it work because in a fraction of a second, those fingers that were inside his mouth find your core again and this time, they are there to stay. His digits press hard against your swollen clit and draw deep circles onto it while his eyes fix on your face to catch the way it morphs with pleasure.

He drinks up every little whine, every flutter of the eyes, every tilt of the head, every single bite of the lips, every little quiver of your body on top of his.

“Lift your hips, baby.” His voice is hoarse as he speaks those words, laced with all the arousal clouding all of his thoughts and the fire you can see in his eyes makes your head spin and your mouth run dry. The way he wants you, the way he plans to claim you over and over again on this ragged couch are so clear in his gaze you can’t help but whine in utter anticipation and follow his every instruction.

So you leave his neglected cock and lift your hips high enough for him to drag down his fingers and play with your folds instead. His touch is soft at first, tentative even, but all the more enticing. It makes your desire grow deeper, it makes your body quiver with impatience and expectancy and he loves every little second of it. To torture you like this, to slowly drive you insane before throwing you over the edge of utter bliss makes him feel absolutely dizzy and just like an addict, it keeps him wanting more of it.

“You’re so wet,” he mutters under his breath and you let out a strangled whine in response that has him chuckling lightly underneath you. The teasing glint in his eyes, that little smirk that pulls his lips slightly upwards to the side make you want to lean forward and kiss him until you run out of breath but oh, that thought gets swiped away in an instant by the sudden intrusion of two of his fingers right inside your sex.

Your head falls backwards, your muscles tense and your jaw slacks as your walls contract around his heavenly fingers, adjusting to the stretch so quickly he has another finger plunged deep inside of you in an instant. You call his name once more, let a trembling breath escape your parted lips and Jeongguk takes that as an encouragement to pump his fingers in and out of you. The pace is torturously slow and it has you wetting your lips over and over again whilst your arousal grows bigger and bigger, trailing down your thighs.

His fingers curl into you and you hiss, bite your bottom lip and go rigid on top of him and the sight is so beautiful he does it again and then once more just to see you crumble and tremble and give in into the impossible pleasure spreading through your limbs like liquid fire.

He lifts himself up enough to bring his mouth to your naked breasts and envelope one of your nipples with his soft rosy lips. You gulp down heavily and find purchase onto his raven locks with one of your hands while the other one ventures out between your lifted legs to seek his erection and brush your fingers against it.

The little grunt of appreciation that comes with the simple touch spreads a smile on your lips, encourages you to wrap your fingers around it to pump it a few times, spreading your juices all over his hard length.

“I want to feel you,” you mutter under your breath and Jeongguk’s teeth pull a little on your turgid bud making you hiss in both pleasure and pain.

When his eyes fix on you, a long shiver runs down your spine. Goosebumps gather on your flesh and your heart turns rampant in your chest, “Then ride me, baby.”

The pressure of his fingers inside your core disappears as quickly as it came and it leaves you startled, contracting around nothing but thin air and mourning the sudden loss. His invitation, though, hangs in the air heavy like stones and thick like fog. And it is that invitation, the temptation in taking the lead that prompts both of your hands to push on his chest until he’s flat on the couch once more, looking up to you with all the desire burning deep inside his stomach.

It is still him that guides you, though, encourages you to take command and make him yours. It’s his fingers that wrap around his length to align himself to your dripping sex. It’s his free arm that wraps around your stomach and pulls you down so that you can finally meet his member and it’s still him that pushes you down just enough for the tip of his cock to brush against your sleek folds.

Wetting your lips, with your eyes pointedly fixed on his, you sink onto him then, ever so slowly, just so you can bask in the sensation of being filled up to the brim for the first time in weeks and let it last for as long as possible. Jeongguk lets out a sigh underneath you, his eyes closing as he lets go to the blissful sensation that is your walls contracting around him, welcoming him back with a tight embrace that already menaces to cut his oxygen intake short.

His free hand finds the supple curve of your ass and wraps around it as you sink completely onto him and let out a pleased sigh at the sensation of him filling you whole. You find purchase on his chest as you lift your hips back up ever so slightly and when his eyes find yours once more and lock you there, you start moving on top of him.

The lewd sound of skin slapping on skin fills the empty apartment, quickly followed by your soft sighs, readily amplified by both of his hands squeezing your bottom cheeks.

Jeongguk’s mouth hangs open, his eyes fixed on your face as you quicken your pace on top of him, rolling your hips every now and then just to hear his grunts, just to feel his nails dig into your flesh more and in a way that is bound to leave half-moon shaped marks scattered across it.

You arch your back a little and lean back to rest your hands on his knees instead and roll into him faster, pushing him deeper until he’s brushing against your cervix in that delicious way that always brings you crumbling down in the span of a few minutes. The guttural sound that escapes from deep down your throat makes him desperate to hear more and to feel the delectable way your walls would squeeze him at the apex of your high. It is then that one of his hands leaves your bottom cheeks in favour of your swollen bud, the very trigger of your pleasure.

The way you call his name then drives him absolutely insane, convinces him that his name has never sounded so beautiful before and oh, it turns his fingers fervent, prompts his hips to roll up into you to meet you halfway, faster and deeper and that’s how you lose your battle for control, that is how you end up giving in to him and letting him claim you with everything he has to offer.

Jeongguk’s hips snap into yours in time with the furious pace of his digits atop your clit, drawing perfect circles on to it that turn you blind and deaf to your own screams and mewls of ecstasy. He calls your name with a deep grunt but you cannot hear it when your ears are ringing so loudly, when your heart is beating so fast inside your chest it might explode soon, when your vision completely disappears and your body starts to quiver on top of his as you lose control.

The pleasure hits you like an unexpected wave of cold water and it steals your breath and sanity away. You come all around him mewling out loud his name and in that moment it doesn’t matter that you might stir awake some monster, that you might reveal your location to the nightmares waiting for you, no, all that matters is the pleasure and how absolutely paradisaical this moment feels.

Jeongguk’s eyes of charcoal are the first thing you see when you finally open yours, when the pleasure subdues and you come back down on Earth, to the here and now. And it’s those eyes of fire that make you rock your hips into him, that make you lift your ass and slap it back onto his thighs hard and fast.

The sounds that erupt from his mouth are like music to your ears and they guide your every movement and oh, you’d bring him down with you like this over and over again but Jeongguk begs you to slow down, to let him enjoy this moment a little bit longer until he has no choice but to paint your walls white.

“Turn around, baby,” he instructs after wetting his lips, his voice deep and hoarse and filled with the passion and desire driving his every movement, his every word.

His legs spread to welcome your ass right between them and as you find purchase on the couch, you let your sex sink back onto him, rejoicing in the new stretch this position provides.

A string of curses escapes his mouth drawing a little wicked smirk on your lips and prompting your hips to snap into his harder. Your hands are both sprawled on the couch to keep yourself standing enough to keep this perfect angle that is bound to turn the both of you absolutely insane. Your body is still quivering with the aftermath of your first orgasm and the lightheaded sensation that still lingers in your system makes your hips move furiously on top of his, drawing all kind of beautiful sounds from his parted lips.

You turn your head back enough to fix your eyes on his face, watch the way it morphs with pleasure. You call his name once, twice in a row and Jeongguk grunts and snaps his hips back into you, hard and fast to the point he’s about to erupt deep inside of you. You can see it in his eyes: the desire, the wanton need, the desperate search for his own release and the more you look at him like this, the more he fucks into you like this, the faster your heart beats, the harder your blood flows in your veins.

Jeongguk’s hips slow down, his bottom lip trembles with the breath that escapes from his lungs and he doesn’t have enough time to utter his next words, to explicitly say what he so desperately desires from you because you push your hips back once more, roll them onto his turgid shaft and fuck yourself on him, impale yourself on his cock until you are crumbling, breaking to tiny pieces right within his grasp. Jeongguk can’t take his eyes off of your quivering limbs, off of your ass still bouncing up and down in front of him, off of his cock plunging deep in and out of you. It is then that he takes the lead once more, pushes you flat on the couch so that he can stand on his knees and pound deep inside of you.

His hips snap into yours so hard and fast you don’t have a spare second to catch your breath, to allow yourself to come down from this impossible high. You mewl his name as his hands find purchase on the small of your back and he roughens up his pace, grunts your name in a row, tells you how impossibly good you feel so tight around him, squeezing him to madness. And you drink up all those words, eat them up like a famished woman on a deserted island and oh, do you galvanize him even further with your sighs of ecstasy, with your pleas for him to fuck you harder, faster, stronger.

If you close your eyes you can almost see his luscious thighs, the way his ass snaps with his hips as he pushes deep inside of you, the way his back contracts with the effort of keeping himself standing right above you, the way sweat shines on his golden skin like fine pearls. You can almost see his raven hair getting wet and stick to his forehead and to his neck and oh, how you’d love to tug on those strands, elicit a hiss out of him and throw him over the edge just like that but instead, it’s Jeongguk that leans forward to grasp your hair, tug on it until you have no choice but arch your back and tilt your head back.

Your eyes open to bore into his as you bite your bottom lip for him, heave out a sigh of ecstasy that is quickly followed by a string of pleas for him to cum right inside of you like this, fill you up to the brim on this ragged couch inside an apartment that isn’t your own, in a city you have never seen before.

Jeongguk grasps your neck then, pushes his fingers on the soft skin deep enough to cut the oxygen intake in half and then he kisses you fully on the mouth, claims your lips with the same ferocity set right between your legs and just like that, you come once more and as your orgasm coils down your thighs and soils the couch further, he shoots his pleasure deep inside of you. You feel his hips snap and still as he lets out a deep grunt of liberation, you feel his hands quiver on your neck and on the small of your back, you hear the stream of little curses that leave his mouth as his orgasm just keeps on coming and coming and coming and you don’t have to look to know his eyes are trained on your sex, dripping with the mixture of both of your pleasures.

The sight of you like this leaves Jeongguk breathless, it leaves him wanting more of this, more of you, it leaves him wishing he could fuck you just like this for the rest of your lives without having to think about anything else outside those four walls. His fingers leave your neck then, allow you to breathe in freely as he slowly drags his cock out of you in favour of his mouth because hell, ever since you started undressing him, this is all he could think about. His tongue brushes against your sleek folds and a deep shiver runs down your spine, followed by a whimper. You call his name softly in question, you tilt your head a little to the side just so you can glimpse at his face but Jeongguk’s answer comes in the form of his tongue flattening completely atop your sex and in the deep grunt that erupts from deep within his throat. The taste of your pleasure mixed with his own is inebriating, quite potentially addicting and so very sweet he just can’t help but gather it all on the tip of his tongue, careful not to waste a single drop of it.

“You taste so good, baby,” he mutters under his breath and you shiver at the lewd words, at the way his eyes are still trained on your sex with all that passion burning deep inside of them. Your body falls completely on the couch then, your ass slightly tilted upwards to offer him the perfect view and angle to keep tasting you like this with his relentless tongue. He laps at your folds, lets his tongue move right between them to gather the nectar he so desperately craves right from the source, oh so delectably deep within you and when you start trembling slightly, when soft sighs start leaving your pretty and swollen lips, he decides to attack your clit too, suckle on the sensitive bud until you are fisting the couch beneath you and begging him to keep on going even though you know you cannot take much more, even though literally every single muscle in your body is aching right about now.

His hands grasp your hips, keep you perfectly still as he devours you whole and he doesn’t stop, not even to catch his breath, until you’re a quivering mess all over again, mewling his name and coming all over his face. And Jeongguk, oh, he loves every second of it and still makes sure to welcome every drop of your pleasure on his tongue to gulp it down and feed on its sweet and sour taste as if this were the very first time.

Your body gives out and you let yourself go completely, close your eyes while coming down from your high and every word that leaves his mouth is muffled by the loud ringing in your ears, by the heavy breaths that leave your heaving chest, by the loud drumming of your heart.

It’s the tenderness of his touch, the way his arms envelop you whole that bring you back to the present, to the empty apartment and it’s his lovely lips on your forehead as he pulls you up to welcome you in his tight embrace that keeps you from falling into a deep slumber.

“You look like you’re about to fall asleep,” he whispers, chuckling slightly at the way you hum while closing your eyes, genuinely fighting against the need to just shut down and recharge.

He hums then, places another soft kiss on your temple and tangles your limbs together while making himself comfortable on the raggedy couch.

“Sleep then, baby. We have a big day ahead of us and I want to leave as soon as we can after going out to find some food.”

A smile forms on your lips then and you nod your head a couple of times. Yes, for a second you almost forgot about your dream and how it’s about to become reality, how close you are, at last to the final destination.

So tonight, you fall asleep with no fear of tomorrow, you fall asleep in the blink of an eye without having to trick yourself into closing your eyes and shutting down all of your thoughts. Tonight, for the first time in weeks, you sleep peacefully in his arms without a single nightmare coming to haunt your dreams. Tonight, the happy memories running through your head behind those closed lids do not burn and turn to ashes, no, they shine brighter than a thousand suns because, for the first time in weeks, you actually believe they could turn into reality soon.

There are some things you can feel in your guts long before they happen. They just sit there, on the pit of your stomach, to make you nervous, nauseous and restless even though you don’t know what they are just yet.

When you wake up and lift your head from his naked chest just so you can stare at his beautiful, peaceful face, you instantly know it’s one of those days. The nervousness sips into your system all at once, cutting your breath short, turning your heart into a caged bird eager to escape. Yet, you don’t utter a single word because today it’s a big day. The day.

You don’t say a word when he kisses you as soon as he wakes up nor when he makes plans for your departure. You don’t even say anything when he puts his almost-empty bag behind his back and walks out the door to scout for some food to bring with you on your trip to salvation.

A lot of words are wasted and gulped down, trapped in the deepest recess of your being where no one can see them or hear them except yourself. And those words menace to choke you, to burn you and consume you until nothing but ashes are left as you wait for him sitting on that same couch you made love on top of last night.

You wait. And wait. And the seconds tick by turning into minutes that turn into hours and the longer you wait, the worse you feel and it’s when your head is starting to spin, when it becomes too hard for you to breathe, when it’s impossible for you to focus on anything else that isn’t the worst-case scenario that you finally get up from the damn couch, pull the backpack on your shoulders and leave the apartment.

Smoke welcomes you back into the real world outside your happy bubble. It stings your eyes, it makes them water and has you coughing out in desperate need of clean air and you know the wiser thing would be to run back to the relative safety of the apartment but the uneasiness in your stomach grows bigger and bigger, dilating like oil at sea, menacing to take over every single cell you’re made of. So, you walk. Walk away from your pretty perfect house, the one you built out of cards last night even though you knew it was going to inevitably collapse soon, the one where you sought peace and happiness and hope for a bright future. You leave it all behind because you have no other choice but to.

The eerie silence of the city is one you’ve experienced countless of times before and therefore you know it’s nothing but the quiet before the storm hits, a trap to make you lower your guard enough for the monsters to attack and take you down with them and as you walk through the deserted and unknown alleys, the feeling of being followed and watched takes over, prompts your legs to move faster just in case you need to start running for your life.

You’ve never been out on your own before. You always had Jeongguk to guide you, to protect you. It takes just a few minutes on your own out there to realise how much you depend on him, how bloody helpless you are on your own out here in the real world where nothing goes according to plan and you can’t count on anyone except for yourself. Again, you realise how lucky you had been all your life, how many little things you took for granted and it makes you wonder if this isn’t some sort of punishment or even a lesson being taught to whole humanity so that one day, the few survivors can learn from it and not repeat the same damn mistakes they’ve made before.

The sound of your name breaks the silence, cuts it in half, rips it to shreds. You whip your head around in the direction of the sound and it’s Jeongguk that you see right there, running through the wreckage the monsters have left behind in that unmistakable way that can only mean one thing: run or perish. So you outstretch your arm for him, lace your fingers together and start running right alongside him without asking a single question and without even looking behind your back.

Your heart soars with relief and gratitude for his salvation and that emotion slightly subdues the uneasiness in your stomach, slowly puts it to sleep as your feet hit hard on the bitumen while you trace your steps back to the apartment, its four safe walls and most importantly the car waiting for you there, that very car that promises to take you the hell away from all of this once and for all. Your grasp around his fingers tightens and as it does, his eyes land on you and that little smile of his twists his lips, at last, to bring warmth to your heart and body, to bring peace to the raging war inside your head.

The apartment’s door slams shut behind your backs and you both press your bodies on it to keep it firmly shut as you try and catch your breath. It is only when you feel his body relax against yours that the words come out.

“What happened?”

Jeongguk grimaces, shakes his head while closing his eyes while a little sigh escapes his lips, “I let my guard down. I was so sure those fuckers were far away deep down the city’s core I was surrounded in an instant. There were so fucking many…”

Your hand comes to his cheek and he leans into the touch immediately, without even noticing. The warmth of your touch placates his heart and brings his eyes on you. They are sweet and filled with love and you can’t help but lean in to kiss his lips.

“It’s ok. We’re alive and we’re about to get the hell away from here.”

Jeongguk smiles at you, nods his head a couple of times before pulling you fully into him, wrapping his loving arms around you and then resting his head in the crook of your neck. He insists that your perfume still lingers there up to this day and it doesn’t matter how much you tell him it is not possible, that any trace of your favourite perfume has long gone, he still claims that as his favourite spot that tastes and smells just like you.

Your fingers find purchase on his shirt, tug on it to bring him even closer, so close there is not a single inch of your bodies that is not touching and it’s right then that the bubble bursts, at last. It takes nothing more than a small touch, a little brush of your fingers against his skin.

Jeongguk hisses in pain and your heart stops.

Jeongguk releases you from his embrace and his eyes full of horror and dread fix on your face, cutting the air out of your lungs.

Jeongguk lifts his shirt up to reveal a red, bloodied mark on his left hip and your world crumbles for the second time in just two weeks.

Jeongguk takes in a sharp, trembling breath and tears start rolling down your cheeks as you furiously shake your head, frantically denying to yourself the truth laid out right before your eyes.

Jeongguk calls your name, puts both of his hands on your cheeks to brush the tears away but it’s a lost battle when they keep coming and coming like water pouring out of a splintered dike.

Tears fall from his eyes too. Thick as pearls, clear as glass, rare as diamonds. And you hate them because the more you look at them rolling down his cheeks, the more real it gets.

“N-no, no, Jeonggukie, no,” your bottom lip quivers, your voice breaks, your body trembles under his gaze as if an earthquake has been trapped right inside of you and it’s now breaking loose, erupting deep within you. You choke on your tears as you grab both of his arms with all the strength you have left in you, pull him into you as if that would stop the venom from spreading and taking his beautiful heart away, “Please.”

You don’t know if your plea is for him to tell you that it’s going to be ok, that this is just a nightmare, nothing to be scared of when you’ll soon open your eyes anyways and realise how stupid you were being or if it’s for some deity up there to help you, to grant you another miracle.

You don’t know but either way, it falls on deaf ears and it doesn’t matter how much you cry and scream and beg and pull him into you, nothing changes. You had your chance, didn’t you? You were granted a wish, a proper miracle back inside that car less than twenty-four hours ago. That was it, that was your first and final ticket and you carelessly used it, without even thinking, without even… You break. There are a million tiny pieces of yourself right there on the ground, sprawled across the dirty floor like an impossible puzzle to rearrange.

“Baby.” His voice is soft. No trace of the fear he feels right inside his heart, not a single trace of the anger and despair running through his veins. His last gift to you, the only thing he has to offer, it would seem, is his feigned peace of heart and mind, “Baby, listen to me.”

You don’t want to listen because deep down, you already know what he’s going to say and you do not want to hear those words, you don’t want to have to remember them ever leaving his mouth. So you fight him, yank away from his arms, try to run from him and the new reality that you’ve been thrown into but there is no hiding, no running this time. It’s game over, right there above your heads, written in crooked and red all caps.

“Listen to me!”

It would be easy to close your eyes and let yourself drift inside that happy land full of memories you retract to whenever things get too intense and heavy but his eyes are filled with raging fire, dancing flames of coal that hold your gaze on him, trap you there so that you can’t escape, not even for a second, not this time.

“There is a gun inside my bag, I want you to take it and—”

“NO!” The scream that erupts from your mouth scratches your throat, burns you from the inside out with the same force of those flames still trapping you there, within the tight grasp of his hands on your shoulders.

“Please, baby,” one of his hands moves to caress the top of your head and you close your eyes to relish into the touch knowing it will probably be your last. You lean into his hand as it reaches one of your cheeks once more and the softest sob escapes your parted lips as you try with all your might to deny the fact that it is over, that this is it and there is no going back.

“Please don’t make me do it,” your voice breaks, quivers helplessly as you open your eyes once more, fix them back into his beautiful, shining ones. You can see the pain there, the guilt and despair laced with the fear of doom but what you see is nowhere close what Jeongguk really feels.

He’s scared. Scared beyond belief and far more than he has ever been. He’s scared of the unknown, he’s scared of the pain, he’s scared of leaving you behind like this, of what will happen to you once he is gone and nobody is left to protect you. He is scared of what you’ll do to yourself after he… but he has no choice, he has no fucking say in all of this and he hates himself for everything. He hates himself for being weak in his final moments, for not having the courage to do it himself but most importantly for allowing this to be your last time together. It shouldn’t be like this, it wasn’t supposed to be like this.

But all these thoughts, all those words, they never leave his mouth. No. What comes out of his mouth is a reminder and a plea, all in one.

“You promised. We promised.”

It hits you just like a slap across the face, one so hard it would tilt your head to the side and turn the skin tender and boiling hot to the touch.

You remember that night. Sleeping under the stars in a dark alley trying to breathe as silently as possible to not gather the attention of the monsters roaming through the city, you laced your fingers together and promised with nothing but the night sky as your witness to never let yourselves become one of those soulless monsters. You promised while praying in your heart it’d never come the day either one of you would have to abide by it.

And now here you are.

“Don’t let me become one of them, baby, please. I don’t want to hurt you, I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

Tears roll down his cheeks, harder and faster than ever before and each droplet breaks you a little more until truly, you feel like nothing of you is left. In this moment, you give up everything you’ve ever been. In this moment, you rip your soul to shreds and part ways with it knowing you’ll never be reunited with it in this life.

The sense of void engulfs you, swallows you whole and all you can hear are his words on repeat and oh, all you can see are those beautiful eyes of his pleading you to do it and you don’t know if it’s your hands that reach for his backpack to seize the gun nestled inside of it or if someone—or something—else is guiding your trembling fingers but, in an instant, the gun is there, right within your grasp and pointed straight to his head.

Jeongguk is looking at you and he tries to smile, tries to regard you with all the warmth filling his heart but he can’t hide the fear that is trapping him there, cutting the air out his lungs, turning his heart restless against his ribs. He fears everything but what he fears the most is what he’ll become if he doesn’t die right here, right now. So he forces himself to smile, he forces himself to nod, he forces his eyes to close and a sigh to move past his lips.

The bang echoes in your ears.

The bullet goes right through his head and yet you can fill it stuck right inside your heart instead, twisting into the flesh until you cannot breathe or think and all that is left is the pain and the scream of agony that leaves your trembling lips.

The gun slips from your quivering hands and hits the hard ground and your eyes fix on it long enough to notice the pool of red tinting the floor, soiling the carpet, slowly reaching for your shoes.

His blood.

You fall on the ground and break into tiny frail shreds of porcelain, so sharp they could cut deep into the skin, infiltrate under it and kill you from the inside out.

Your quivering hands are lost inside your hair, fisting them so hard you might pull them from your skull but you do not care nor feel any of the pain spreading through your body. No, not now when your eyes are fixed on what remains of his beautiful face. Those eyes that used to hold galaxies in them are void now, dark and lifeless like a night sky without a single star. Those pretty rosy lips you kissed until yours ached are now pale and turning cold, stuck in a perpetual “o” of utter shock. Those warm and delicate hands that used to hold you, caress you, explore you are now grasping nothing but the thin air and you open them to lace your fingers with them one last time.

One.

Last.

Time.

The desperate cries come then.

You are deaf to your own screams, blind to the tears coiling down your face, oblivious to the way your body shakes with each strangled breath, with each inconsolable sob. You throw yourself on his motionless body, rest your head atop his chest as if he were nothing more than asleep and you cling to his shirt begging him to hug you back just like he used to, reassure you that it’s all going to be ok, that this is just another one of your crazy nightmares, that none of this is real.

But when you open your eyes he’s still lying motionless on the ground, his eyes are still void and staring up at the ceiling and his arms are still sprawled on the floor and not tucked around your body to keep you safe. And the worst part of it is that this is all because of you. You did this to him.

The bang echoes in your ears again, louder and louder with each passing second and closing your eyes doesn’t work anymore because now, all you see behind those closed lids is his dead face and those bottomless black eyes.

Everything breaks inside of you, everything shatters and falls helplessly on the soiled floor to join him and fly away with him to a place far away from here. And oh, how much you wish you could join him, that you could pick up that damn gun, point it to your head and just let the last remnants of your soul go so that you won’t have to face this or live through this a second longer but you don’t and you try to tell yourself it’s because you are a coward, that it’s because deep down you want to survive no matter what because it would be easier to accept that, it would be easier to just loathe yourself and think the most despicable things about yourself but, alas, it wouldn’t be the truth. No, even now, even when his eyes cannot see you anymore, even when his voice cannot reach you, and his hands cannot hold you, you’re still doing everything for him.

If you close your eyes, if you focus on the silence surrounding you hard enough to tune out the loud bangs ricocheting through your consciousness, you can almost hear him begging you to keep on living, to keep on fighting for your dream so that his death is not in vain, so that not everything is lost. But even still, it is not enough for you to lift yourself up, for your legs to move and bring you out of this apartment, out if this forsaken town. It is not enough for you to actually stand up and fight for your life, for a chance at survival, for an actual future. So you stay there, on the floor, with your arms wrapped around him and your head resting on his immobile chest. And you remain there for hours, crying until there are no tears left to cry, until your eyes burn and your throat aches, until the sun goes down and you are enveloped in darkness.

You stay there, motionless just like him except for the steady rise and fall of your chest and not even the noises coming down the hallway, not even the sound of steps startle you, prompt you to leave him behind and run to safety.

Your eyes move to the door as it swings open and you’re almost ready to welcome your end without even trying to put up a fight but it is not a monster that stands right there, on the edge of this apartment door. No, it’s a human and that human is pointing a gun straight to your head.

“Fuck!”

The man curses, takes a step back and pulls his gun away from your face to point it on the floor instead.

“You’re human.” He says and you notice how deep his voice is, warm like honey and comforting like a lover’s hug, “I almost shoot you in the head.”

The man’s eyes look kind even though the shock is still written all over his face but that warmness disappears in an instant as he finally takes in the scenery before him: a pool of blood, a pair of void eyes staring straight up at the ceiling, a gun abandoned on the floor not too far away from your feet.

It is clear from the way he looks at you that he’s seen this before, probably even lived through it and the tenderness in his gaze, the way he takes careful steps towards you, the way he softly calls for you with a simple ‘hey’, oh, they all bring the tears and despair back and within seconds you are sobbing all over again and so hard your body shakes and menaces to actually splinter with the force of your pain. It is then that this stranger’s arms engulf you, surround you just like the tallest and safest towers ever created by mankind and you let him because you need this, you need someone to hold you together even for just a few seconds and even if you don’t know his name and he doesn’t know yours.

“Joon, the whole floor is clear, looks like we found somewhere for a good night’s sleep tonig—oh…”

There’s another man standing at the door now, his eyes big as saucers as he takes in the scene before his very eyes and you watch how his mouth opens and closes as he struggles to put together the whole thing and honestly, if this were a movie it would almost be amusing and comical but even the hope to wake up and discover it was all part of a nightmare, a recreation of your mind after watching a stupid horror movie alone in the middle of the night is now gone, completely erased.

“Yes, bring the others in, we’re going to stay.”

The other boy looks up at the stranger still holding you—Joon?—with questioning eyes but doesn’t dare to speak a single word and instead retreats to the end of the corridor in utter silence.

“It’s just four of us,” he says then, looking down at you with a tender smile, “We need somewhere to stay for the night and you probably shouldn’t be alone right now.”

He welcomes your silence with a slight nod of his head and then his arms are gone and you almost reach out for him to beg him to keep you in his embrace until you’re sure you’re not going to break apart into thousands of pieces but you don’t. Too afraid to ask, too scared to even dare to.

“We’re headed to the Refuge. Have you heard of it? It’s quite close at this point, if the rumours are true. It’s a community of humans that has successfully kept those fuckers out.”

“We…we were going there too.” Your voice is small and croaky, barely above a whisper but in the silence of the apartment, he hears your words loud and clear and responds to them with a hum.

“You could come with us.”

His words are simple yet they startle you, they prompt your eyes to fix back on Jeongguk’s lovely face and suddenly you are hyperventilating because no, you can’t leave him behind like this, you can’t leave his body here for those monsters to feed on. You just can’t.

The stranger’s arms are around you in an instant once more, his voice is soothing in your ears as he tries to calm you down, to stop the tears and the choking sobs but all his words fall on deaf ears as you start breaking apart all over again. You scream and cry your heart out and he lets you, he doesn’t leave your side again though, no, he keeps you right there within his embrace and he doesn’t give up and it does not make sense for someone you’ve barely even met to care so much about you, to have this much patience but maybe, maybe after seeing so much horror, after parting with so many different people just like you did he decided not to leave anyone else behind if he can, not even random girls met in an empty apartment in a forsaken, nameless city on a crumpled map.

“I know it’s hard but it’s going to be ok, I promise. You can’t give up now, ok? We’re so close, so freaking close and I didn’t know him but if he cared about you just as much as you evidently care about him, I’m sure he’d want you to move on, he’d want you to fight and win this battle and survive.” His words do come through this time and they should probably soothe your heart but they break it harder because no, he didn’t know Jeongguk but then why do his words match him so well he could have said them himself? You know he’d want you to follow them, to bring yourself to salvation and wasn’t that exactly what you told yourself while embracing his dead body all those hours ago?

The stranger breaks the embrace enough to look inside your eyes, to tentatively reach out to dry your tears and there is so much affection in his gaze, in the careful way he touches you, in the little dimpled smile he shows you and you already know, you’ll never be able to thank him enough for all of this.

“Who are you?” Your question comes out as a trembling whisper yet he catches on to it and smiles harder, pulls his gaze away from your face as his cheeks turn a lovely shade of coral. What you meant to ask was if he’s an angel, someone sent from up above to save you and guide you through this difficult path and maybe he gets what you mean or maybe he doesn’t but still, he replies and it’s the easiest answer he could ever give you, “I’m Namjoon.”

It is then, as you whisper his name and get acquainted with it that the other boy returns, followed by two more young men and their belongings which, just like yours, fit all inside a single bag.

“This is Jimin,” the boy next to you points to the shortest one of the bunch and you watch him blush as he slightly bows down while chewing on his bottom lip. He was the one that found you and Namjoon on the ground and his eyes still spark with curiosity but he doesn’t dare ask any questions and you are grateful for that.

“Taehyung,” Namjoon says, pointing towards the guy standing right next to Jimin, his fingers laced around the other boy’s in an unequivocal way that reminds you in an instant of the way Jeongguk always used to hold your hand any chance he got, especially the past few weeks.

“And that is Seokjin.” The last boy waves at you and the discomfort in his features is enough for you to pull your gaze away from him and fix it back on the ground.

No matter how much you try, you can’t shake the fact that this is wrong, that all of this is just wrong. You staying here, those boys standing here all around you, invading the privacy of this place and what it holds in it and you hate that this is somewhat normal to them—and to you—that it doesn’t shock humans anymore to find others with holes in their heads or even worse.

Silence envelops you and none of them breaks it and it stretches on and on until you can’t take it anymore, until it feels like you cannot breathe anymore.

“He was bitten,” you utter then, voice trembling and tears falling on your cheeks slowly like fat, translucent pearls. “He asked me to… I had no choice but… He—His name is-was Jeongguk.”

The boys bow their heads when you lift your head up and you can see the sadness in their eyes, the recognition and understanding that comes with experiencing all of this on your own skin, with your own eyes and maybe that’s why you don’t say anything when Namjoon slowly pulls Jeongguk away from your arms, maybe that’s why you let Seokjin lift you up from the ground in favour of the couch, maybe that’s why you let them touch him, close his eyes, pull him away and clean his blood off of the floor the best they can.

“We’ll bring him with us, we’ll bring him to the Refuge and spread his ashes there, away from all of this. What do you say?”

“Why are you doing this for me?” You look up to Namjoon while you hug your legs close to your chest and in that moment you don’t realise how ungrateful you must sound to him, questioning him and his motives over and over again instead of thanking him with all that you’ve got but he doesn’t comment on it, no, he offers you a gentle smile and a little sigh that holds all the exhaustion he must feel in it.

“Because there’s too little of us left to not care about each other at this point.”

Those words warm your heart, they warm your shivering body and move you in ways you didn’t think possible anymore. That little part left of your soul holds onto his words, onto the hope he provides and it hangs on to it with both nails and teeth refusing to let go and it’s that part of you that makes you open your mouth once more but this time, it is to offer some help and not just throw more burden to the mix.

“We found a car. It still has fuel in it and we planned to use it to reach the Refuge.”

Maybe this was all meant to be. Maybe, you were meant to meet and save those boys and they were meant to find you and pull you back together in the darkest hour of your life. Yes, maybe it was all written in the stars and it might not be fair because life, you’ve learned, hardly ever is but when your eyes land on the tall white walls of a city hidden in the mountains the following night, all the puzzle pieces fit together.

You watch the flames dance, feel the warmth of the fire on your hands, rising up to your arms and slowly reach your face like comforting hands tying to caress your body.

The heat makes your eyes water, makes your skin feel impossibly hot and yet you don’t move a single inch and find yourself almost wishing those flames would actually reach out and claim you right along with him, burn you until there’s nothing but ashes to remind the world that once, you existed. But it’s not you that burns, no, it’s Jeongguk. You watch his lovely body disappear inside those flames: his strong arms that used to hold you, his rosy lips that used to kiss you and call your name so sweetly whenever you were together, those beautiful eyes of coal you always got lost in, that luscious raven locks you loved to run your fingers through or tug on depending on the mood… you watch it all burn and disappear.

There is a comforting hand on your shoulder. The touch is delicate and sweet, enough to soothe your aching soul without it being too invasive and you are glad for it, for his presence by your side. Kim Namjoon saved you in more ways than meet the eyes. He saved you two nights ago when he found you holding Jeongguk’s lifeless body, he saved you when he put you inside that car with his friends, he saved you when he successfully brought you here, to the Refuge, where you can now freely mourn your loss and do it right. This is the first proper goodbye you were granted ever since it all started and in this moment you part ways with the love of your life but also with your family and friends, with everyone you’ve ever met that turned into an impossible monster or perished before the venom could turn them into one. And you allow yourself to break a little because it’s ok, you’re allowed this one moment of weakness now, you’re allowed to cry your heart out for all the things you’ve lost during this fight.

Your knuckles turn white against the necklace around your neck. The sharp ends of the feather dig into your skin and you let it, hell, you even grasp it tighter as if trying to merge your hand with it as if that could somehow bring him back or let him live right inside of you to his fullest. The tears run faster down your cheeks because this, right within your grasp, is all there’s left of him: a necklace and your memories. Nothing more.

All that Jeongguk was, his past and present and future, they were all swept away in an instant, like dust under the force of the wind and you are the only one that remains to remember him, to tell his story to the world, to let him live on so that he won’t ever be forgotten amongst the millions of lives that were lost.

Just you, a necklace and a fist of ashes.

It’s with trembling fingers that you release them all in the air, let his entire being be swept away by wind so that it can cover the land all around you and be reborn in this field in the form of beautiful flowers, majestic trees, droplets of water to fill the river running down the hills.

The breeze is warm against your skin and if you close your eyes you can almost imagine his fingers caressing your body just like the wind is, you can almost imagine him embracing you through this air surrounding you, playing with your hair and enveloping your body.

For the first time in days, you smile. You smile at the thought of him being finally free and at peace right where he wanted to be, you smile at the thought of him looking down at you with his beautiful eyes, with pride shining in them. You smile at the thought of him nodding his head while patting yours, you smile at the idea of his fingers lacing with yours one last time as he says his goodbye with the promise of always looking down on you, of always protecting you, even from up there where nothing goes unseen. You smile and you thank him for loving you so much, for saving you countless of times even before the zombies arrived, even before you realized you were being saved and that you even needed to.

You thank him and tell him how much you love him, how you will never forget him, how you’ll keep cherishing him and keeping him right inside your heart for every second of your life from here moving forward and you repeat those promises you shared one year ago, on that altar, so that he knows you are his forever and no matter what, you’ll always belong to him just like him belonged to you until his very last breath.

When the touch of a hand warms your shoulders and brings you back on Earth, for a second you startle and foolishly hope to turn around and see him standing right there, smiling at you with his head slightly tilted to the side. But when you turn it’s not Jeongguk that welcomes you, no, it’s Namjoon with his timid smile, with eyes full of wonders and understanding and this time, your smile, incredibly, does not falter nor disappear.

Namjoon doesn’t utter a single word and he doesn’t need to because you know, even though you’ve barely met him, that he is simply there for you, that he is offering you his support and friendship amidst those difficult times and you don’t tell him how grateful and touched you are but a part of you suspects he already knows.

Your eyes drift away from his face and it is then that you notice the other three boys standing a few steps back from the two of you, their eyes fixed on you and the deserted land right behind your back.

They came.

You don’t know when they arrived or if they’ve been there the whole time but either way, you are grateful for their presence too because at least, someone else besides you is here to say goodbye to the wonderful man that was Jeon Jeongguk and it does not matter that they never met him and that they never will, they are still here to accompany his soul somewhere far away from this nightmare and the smile on your lips spreads while tears run down your cheeks once more.

You thank them, your voice nothing more than a trembling breath and they smile back at you, nod their heads and join you right there, at the edge of this green cliff where it’s easy to imagine a new world full of peace and love.

You look up at the sky once more and as the silence envelops you and the boys once more, you whimper out your farewell.

“Goodbye, Jeongguk.”

The grass is soft and ticklish under your feet as you walk through the empty path that leads to your favourite spot: the edge of the hill.

A warm smile spreads on your lips and you unconsciously fasten your pace as your eyes land on the vast sea of green, the clear sky up ahead, the dozens of flowers scattered all over the valley.

“Hey there, handsome.”

Your voice breaks the silence of the heaven-like place, gets carried away by the gust of wind that welcomes you right there, in front of the marble stone where you are bound to be found every single day, right when the sun rises up in the sky and shines brightly on everything in sight.

Your fingers reach out to caress the marble, feel the crevices that make out his name right under your digits. You’ve done this countless of times before and yet you still hope one day they’d get engraved in your digits and stay there to accompany you every single hour for the rest of your life.

You heave out a little sigh as you let your body fall on the ground to hug your knees to your chest and rest your chin on them.

You know this is futile, you know that there is absolutely nothing of him right there, under the ground, that this is just a symbol of his existence, of the fact that once, a great man named Jeon Jeongguk walked the Earth and yet, you still come here every day to talk to him, to see him and remember him like he used to be before everything crumbled down and burned.

This time, it feels different though. Your smile falters a little, you divert your gaze and fix it on the ground to play with the grass, pluck with your fingers whilst you search for the right words to speak because you know, the moment they’ll hang up in the air they’ll become real and part of you is still not ready to face it all, to embrace the inevitable change coming your way.

“Today is the day,” you say then before biting down your bottom lip whilst lifting your gaze back up. In an instant, the tombstone disappears and sitting right across from you is Jeongguk. His eyes are sparkling, his lips are twisted a little to the side in a gentle smile and he is nodding his head in encouragement, urging you to speak up.

“We’re leaving in an hour.” Your voice is small and full with the uncertainty you feel blossoming right inside your heart.

Five years have passed since that night in that city in ruin. Five years spent in this Refuge trying to save and rebuild humankind. Five years of battles and uncertainties and pain, so much pain, but also joy and relief and victories and now, now the nightmare is over and what awaits for you outside this safe haven is a world similar to the one you left behind before the zombie appeared. A normal world rebuilt by those that were left behind, a world full of normalcy and opportunities and peace.

But you are scared. Scared of the future, scared of leaving this place that has kept you alive and safe for so long, scared of leaving him behind even though there is nothing of him left in this place anyways. But Jeongguk smiles at those words and it’s one of those dazzling smiles that used to make butterflies dance in your stomach, that used to turn your heart into a hummingbird, that used to make you feel as warm as the sun itself. You can almost hear his voice then, telling you how happy he is and that you should not be afraid, that he’ll still be right here for you, watching over you every step of the way.

It’s then that the tears come and fall down your cheeks. It’s then that you nod your head and promise him you’ll be back, one day, to sit just like this on this spot of grass in front of his tombstone. It is also then that a pair of small hands comes up your face, hides the sight of Jeongguk from you, throwing you into a pitch-black darkness that instead of fear brings nothing but laughter.

“My, my, who is this? Could it be my little monkey, by any chance?”

Yoona’s laugh fills the air as you turn around and welcome her in your embrace to tickle her to the point of tears. Her eyes shine as she looks up at you and you can see so much of him in there sometimes it’s almost painful to look at her but today, today it serves as a reminder that you’ll always have a part of him right beside you, no matter what.

“I’m sorry, _______. I tried to buy you a little more time but she just wouldn’t sit still.”

Namjoon’s voice reaches you then and as you lift your eyes you watch him stand there with his apologetic smile, dimples in full display as he shakes his head while watching your daughter struggling under the torture of your fingers on her belly.

“It’s ok, don’t worry. I was done anyways.”

You smile at your kid, bump your nose together with hers and hug her tight to your chest. She’s your little miracle, the very last gift he left behind before turning into ash and when you thought all of you was gone, when you thought you’ll never be able to love anyone else anymore, she came your way and filled your heart with all the love of the world.

You hear Namjoon’s steps as he walks away, allowing you one last moment with the love of your life and this is just one thing more to add to the list you are immensely grateful to him for. At this point, you are convinced not even an entire lifetime will be enough for you to be able to repay him or thank him enough for all that he has done for you all these years.

“Are you ready to leave, baby?”

Yoona nods her head in excitement. She’s the adventurous type, just like her dad used to be, and the thought of seeing the outside world thrills her so much she could barely sleep last night. This place is all she’s ever known, all she’s ever seen but you told her about the world outside those high walls made of stone, you told her stories about faraway places that look nothing like the Refuge, you told her fairytales from your childhood but also memories of yourself, her grandparents, her father and now that this world she’s been dreaming about is suddenly within her grasp all she wants to do is reach her little arm out and grasp it with all her might.

“Are you sad, mommy?” Her little palm rests on your cheek and it is then that you realise a few tears have escaped your control once more. You quickly brush them away but that is not enough to bring the smile back on her lovely face, to erase the worried expression twisting her features. “Is it because of daddy?”

She turns around towards the tombstone then before reaching out her little arm to feel the characters that make out his name under her digits, just like you always do. You know she is caressing his face now, that she’s making sure he knows how much she loves him even though she has never seen his face before, even though she has never heard his voice before and all she can do is imagine, fantasize and dream about him.

“Will daddy be sad if we leave?”

Her voice is small and your heart breaks a little and oh, it takes all your strength to keep the tears from falling now, to hold the pain deep inside of you where she can’t see it. You tighten your grasp around her, rest your chin on her tiny little shoulder so that you can place soft kisses on her cheek and reassure her that it’s ok, that you’re going to be ok and that no matter what, he’ll always be right beside her and all she’ll ever need to do is close her eyes to see him and feel him all around her.

“No, baby girl. Daddy will always be with us, no matter where we go and he’s happy, so so happy we’re going on a little adventure.”

She smiles a little, nods her head a couple of times before diverting her gaze to the necklace around her neck. She grasps the feather with her tiny fingers, brings it to her lips to kiss it lovingly and then she turns to you and the storm seems to have passed, just like that.

“Because he’s right here, right?”

She brings the necklace towards your face and you nod a couple of times before pointing right to her heart, “And right here.”

Yoona smiles her brightest smile and untangles from your embrace in favour of the tombstone. You watch her throw her arms around the marble stone and hug it tight to her chest and then you hear her whisper her farewell words—Goodbye, daddy. I love you.—and oh, your heart breaks all over again in an instant. And you would break too, right then and there, if it weren’t for her little smile and for Namjoon’s voice pulling you out of your thoughts.

“We have to leave soon.”

His voice is apologetic and full of understanding and you offer him and your daughter a gentle smile as you finally rise up from your spot. Your baby throws her arms around your neck as you lift her up and warmth spreads through your body as you hug her closer to remind yourself why you are doing this, why you are leaving all of this behind. For Yoona.

Namjoon’s hand finds your shoulder then as he throws one of his arms around you and even though he doesn’t speak a single word, you hear all of the things he wishes he could say to you and when you look at him, you silently thank him over and over again like you have been doing every single day of these past few years.

But your last words in this place are not reserved for him, no, they are for Jeongguk and only for him to hear.

Goodbye, my love. I will always love you.

A gust of wind caresses your cheeks then and you smile at the bright sky above your head because deep down, you know this is him touching you and when you close your eyes, just for a second, you can hear his voice through the gentle breeze, whispering right inside your ears.

Don’t fear, my love. I’ll always be by your side. I love you.

Copyright © 2020 by jeonggukingdom. All rights reserved. Do not repost, do not steal, do not translate without consent.

[jemej3m]

Yo. Yo. Yoo. A Highschool musical au. Yeah you heard me.

bruh cross clique relationships are my jam

pt. 1? maybe

*

When they’d first met, Neil had been hiding from everyone else on the roof of the ski lodge. Wymack had brought him on holiday and encouraged him to join in with the teen party going on in the karaoke lounge with Dan and Kevin, but he’d taken one look and noped the hell out. 

Curled into a ball, he had never expected his angsty teenage silence to be broken by another short, bad-mannered boy, equally as distasteful of loud gatherings and soda-stupid teenage shenanigans. 

There had been something very familiar about him, like Neil had seen him before.

He also had a pack of cigarettes. 

Neil had yearned for one, like he yearned for his mom, and Andrew had asked for his name in exchange for the lighter. They’d sat in silence, letting the dulled sounds of music and cheers wash over them like a particularly persistent draft.

When Neil flinched away at the first pop of the fireworks, Andrew had frowned. And when Neil had explained they sounded too much like gunshots, Andrew gave him his number, scoffing at Neil’s old flip phone. 

Then he’d proceeded to bitch about his cousin, the one who had dragged him and his twin brother on a ‘bonding’ trip, and was then forcing him to move across the country so they could all live together. it distracted Neil from the gunfire overhead: whether or not that had been Andrew’s intention, Neil thought he’d never know. 

He assumed he’d never see Andrew again. 

But then school started up again.

Guess who was the new kid?

*

Andrew didn’t think that high school movies were actually grounded in reality till he moved to Palmetto State high. But the minute that he walked in through Palmetto State High’s front doors, he was instantly proven wrong. 

Aaron, who had already done his freshman year and half his sophomore year here, seemed unfazed. He was a generally unfazed person, expect when Andrew purposefully ignored him and then smashed his ass at Mariokart. Then he’d lose his temper but ultimately be angrier at himself, because he didn’t want to be anything like his mom had been. 

Andrew never had the chance to meet Tilda. She’d died just before they met: her will was the only reason that Aaron had found out about Andrew in the first place.

Aaron shoved his glasses up his nose and neatly ducked past a set of boisterous jocks who were bouncing a basketball to one another. 

“I already hate it here,” Andrew muttered, following after his brother. 

“It gets worse,” Aaron sighed. “Wait till you see the Exy jocks. The cheerleaders are - ” his face screwed up for a second. “Not all bad.” 

“What are you?” 

“We,” Aaron insisted. “Are nerds. Did you think you’d be able to escape the fact that we’re identical?” 

“I’m not a nerd,” Andrew muttered, shoving his hands into his pockets to hide the bracelet he wore. Bee had given it to him as a parting gift: it was the solar system, to scale, with the space between the planets made out of carbon fibre. 

“Are you kidding? The only thing you moved in with was a box of books.” 

“Whatever.” 

They brushed by the office, Aaron ignoring the freshman’s offer to take Andrew on a tour of the school. Her name-tag read Robin and she was clearly unfazed by their complete disregard of her presence. 

“History first,” Aaron huffed, squinting at Andrew’s timetable. “Good, we’re together. History sucks: we have Mr Moriyama, and his shitty nephew Riko is in that class too.”

“What’s so shitty about him?” 

“You’ll see.” 

Fantastic, Andrew thought. The day was shaping up to be an absolute nightmare. 

“Mr Minyard,” drawled a nasally man who lingered by the door. When he saw Andrew, his eye twitched. “And Mr Minyard. So the attendance sheet wasn’t an error.”

Aaron just muttered something under his breath and dragged Andrew by the sleeve. The tables were set up in spaced-apart rows, but the back was already claimed by a group of delinquent-looking attention vacuums. The others were all crowded around one boy, who had his feet kicked up on the table in front of him and an uncanny resemblance to the history teacher. 

He looked between Andrew and Aaron and sneered. Before he could open his mouth to say something, his uncle clapped his hands and called the class to attention. 

Just as Mr Moriyama was about to start the lesson, what could only be described as the human embodiment of disaster. 

When Andrew recognised him, his cheeks went red. 

“Mr Josten,” Mr Moriyama said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “How is it that you are always late to my class, when your brother’s already here?” 

The brother in question looked nothing like Neil. He was taller, paler, with black hair and green eyes. He was also glaring at Neil, like that was going to make a difference. 

“My bad,” the red-head shrugged. 

“Detention,” Mr Moriyama said. 

“I have practise,” Neil retorted. And - oh, god, he was a jock. A smart-mouthed sporty boy. Fuck. Andrew thought he’d never see the boy from the rooftop again, but here they were, sitting in the same history class. 

“Should have thought about that before you were late,” the greasy man sneered, sending Neil on his way. Neil slumped his way past the desks till he saw Andrew sitting behind his brother, eyes widened with shock. 

Andrew, involuntarily, found himself giving Neil a small salute. Neil’s lips quirked up as he slid into his chair, letting the first lesson of the day finally begin. 

*

Neil jogged into practise late. This wasn’t surprising to anyone, least of all Wymack, who was leaning against the plexiglass with a knowing frown. 

“Could you stop antagonising Mr Moriyama’s own nephew in his class?” 

“In my defence,” Neil admitted. “Today’s detention was because I was late, not because I accidentally spoke my thought about Riko out loud instead of reciting them in my head.”

“Get on the court, you little shit,” he said, though not without fondness. Neil had been adopted by the Exy coach at the end of his freshman year, when he’d figured out why Neil was breaking into the changerooms to sleep. 

He jogged up to Kevin, who was less than impressed as he stood by the goal. 

“What the hell, Neil?” 

“The only reason I was so late was because Gordon still hasn’t forgiven you for getting him kicked off the team and he likes to hang around my locker to take it out on me!” 

Dan, Wymack’s other adopted child and team captain, was standing nearby and laughing. “Don’t try and flip this on Kevin: you just like picking fights with Seth.” 

Neil grinned at her. “It’s so easy.” 

“Oi!” Wymack called out. “We running drills or not?”

When he saw the blonde head of hair bobbing up and down, Neil’s grin faltered slightly. He was still in shock that Aaron had a twin, that the twin had moved here, and that twin had been the exact person Neil had met on the roof of the ski resort a few weeks ago. 

No wonder he’d found Andrew’s face so familiar. He was truly an idiot for not picking up on it.

Andrew sat down, high in the bleachers. Neil felt a strange prickle at the back of his neck, like he had when they’d talked for hours up on the roof. 

Practise went too fast after that. Neil stayed behind to help his coach pack up, Kevin and Dan bickering about plays as they went off to the showers. 

Coach went off with the equipment, giving Andrew a cursory glance. Perhaps he recognised Aaron’s face: the boy had nearly done tryouts for the team at the start of freshman year but chickened out. 

Neil skipped the steps, leaping up three at a time. Andrew was lounging on the bleachers, head cocked to the side. 

“So,” Neil said. “You never mentioned that you were moving to Palmetto.”

“We were in a random Colorado ski lodge,” Andrew rolled his eyes. “What were the chances?” 

“Clearly high enough.” Neil perched on the seat beside him. “So, Aaron’s brother, huh?” 

“Obviously.” 

Neil grinned. “Give me some slack: it was dark. I suppose you’ll be following him around, at first?” 

Andrew just shrugged. “I don’t have anything better to do.” 

“Do you like Exy?” 

His eye twitched. “I’ve played before. Why?” 

Neil felt his grin widen. “You should try out.” 

Andrew crossed his arms over his chest. “Aaron says I’m doomed to be stuck with the nerds, so long as I look like him. Apparently that’s a big deal here.” 

Neil faltered slightly. “Well, yeah. Everyone kinda sticks to their own. I’ve always wanted to join the Olympiads, but they’d never let me on the team. I’m good at math and physics, but I’m on the Exy team. They don’t associate with jocks.”

“Olympiads,” Andrew mumbled. “Jesus Christ.” 

“Hey!” 

“This entire school is a disaster,” Andrew said, notching a cigarette between his lips and spun the lighter between his fingers. “I don’t give a shit about their stupid cliques.” 

Neil felt something warm in his chest. He’d always felt the same. “Careful. If Riko thinks you’re kicking up dust, he’ll retaliate. He likes to think he owns the place and prefers that everyone just sticks to their own.” 

Andrew trotted down a few steps before looking back over his shoulder at Neil. “Well, he can just get in line.” 

Huh, Neil thought, when he couldn’t get Andrew’s smirk out of his mind for the rest of the day. This is new.

*

gosh, teenagers r so melodramatic 

@filteredred don’t call me out on hypocrisy 

[terramythos]

TerraMythos 2021 Reading Challenge - Book 6 of 26

Title: The Killing Moon (Dreamblood #1) (2012)

Author: N. K. Jemisin

Genre/Tags: Fantasy, First-Person, Third-Person, Female Protagonist, LGBT Protagonist, Asexual Protagonist.

Rating: 8/10

Date Began: 2/07/2021

Date Finished: 2/13/2021

Peace is sacred in the walled city-state of Gujaareh, and must be maintained at any cost. The Gatherers are a priesthood tasked with maintaining this goal. In the name of Hananja, Goddess of the moon, they walk the city at night and harvest Dreamblood-- the magic of dreams-- from Gujaareh's denizens. They bring the peace of death to those who need it... and to those judged criminal or corrupt.

But something else haunts Gujaareh's streets. A Reaper, a rogue Gatherer driven to endless madness and hunger from Dreamblood, is preying on the innocent, casting their souls into an eternal nightmare. Ehiru, one of the elder Gatherers, finds himself caught in the middle of a political conspiracy between his priesthood, the holy Prince, and the monstrous Reaper. An insidious corruption runs deeper than Ehiru knows-- and it may be too late to stop. 

The Gatherer’s eyes glittered in her memory, so dark, so cold--but compassionate, too. That had been the truly terrifying thing. A killer with no malice in his heart: it was unnatural. With nothing in his heart, really, except the absolute conviction that murder could be right and true and holy. 

Full review, major spoilers, and content warnings under the cut.

Content warnings for the book: Graphic depictions of violence, gore, death, warfare, and murder-- including death of children and mass murder. Discussions of p*dophilia/grooming (nothing graphic). Brief reference to r*pe. One character is a minor infatuated with a much older character-- not reciprocated. Rigid gender and social roles, including slavery. Magic-induced addiction and withdrawal. Loss of sanity/altered mental states/mind control/gaslighting.

Last year I read N. K. Jemisin's short story collection How Long 'Til Black Future Month?  One of my favorite stories was The Narcomancer, which explored a vibrant, ancient Egypt-inspired world with themes of faith, dreams, violence, and duty. I wanted to read more from the universe, and finally got to do so with The Killing Moon, the first book in the Dreamblood duology.

Jemisin's creativity in worldbuilding is, in my opinion, unmatched in the fantasy genre. I thought Gujaareh was super interesting and fleshed out. While the ancient Egypt inspiration is obvious, it's also clearly an original fantasy culture in its own right. Everything from religious practices to social castes to gender roles to the fucking architecture felt methodical and thought out. The base premise of assassin priests compassionately harvesting magic from people is a fascinating idea and totally gripping. The pacing is a little slow, but I didn't mind so much because learning about the world was so fun.

While there's a hefty amount of worldbuilding exposition in the story, Jemisin doles out information gradually. Bits and pieces of Gujaareen law, etc are introduced at the beginning of each chapter, and usually have a thematic connection to the events of the story. Information is sparing at times, meaning that one doesn't have a full picture of how everything ties together until pretty far into the story. Even something as crucial as the dream-based magic system isn't fully realized until near the end. I like the mystery of this approach, and I can appreciate how difficult it must be to keep the reader invested vs frustrating them with a lack of info. Jemisin consistently does a great job with this in everything I've read by her.

I did want a little bit more from the narcomancy aspect of the story, since dream worlds are such a huge part of Gujaareen religion and culture. In The Killing Moon we see just a few dreamscapes, and then only briefly. There's so much potential with narcomancy as a magic system, yet most of what we see is an outside, "real-world" perspective, which isn't terribly unique compared to other kinds of magic. Dreamblood being a narcotic (heh) with some Extra Fantasy Stuff is interesting, but I wanted more. Perhaps The Shadowed Sun expands on this. 

Characterization is the other Big Thing with this book, as it's very much a character-driven story. Overall I'm torn. There's some things I really liked, and others that felt underdeveloped. I'll go over my favorite things first.

Ehiru is probably the strongest of the main cast, and I really enjoyed his character arc. Here's a guy who is completely devoted to his faith, regardless of what others may think of it. Yet he's not a self-righteous dick. He sees Gathering as a loving and holy thing, so when he errs in the line of duty, it totally consumes him. And things just get worse and worse for him as the story progresses. Say what you will about the Gatherers and the belief system of Gujaareh; Ehiru comes off as intensely caring, devoted, and compassionate, and I genuinely felt bad for him throughout the novel. I'm not religious but these kinds of faith narratives are super interesting to me.

Looking at characterization as a whole, I appreciate The Killing Moon's gray morality. No one in the story is wholly good or evil. The Gatherers are an obvious example, considering they murder people in the dead of night in the name of their Goddess-- but do so to help those in need. Despite being a megalomaniacal mass-murderer, the Prince has believable reasons for his horrific actions, and they’re not wholly selfish. Even the Reaper is a clear victim of Dreamblood's addictive and mind-altering nature; it sometimes regresses into the person it used to be, which is sad and disturbing. There's a lot of moral complexity in the characters and the laws and belief systems they follow. This kind of nuanced writing is much more interesting to read than a black and white approach.

Beyond this, though, I struggled to connect with the other leads. Nijiri's utter devotion to Ehiru is basically his whole character, and while the tragedy of that is interesting for its own reasons, I kept wanting more from him. Sunandi is a good "outsider perspective" character but I had a hard time understanding her at times. For example, the two most important people in her life, Kinja and Lin, die in quick succession. Yet besides a brief outburst when Lin dies, this barely seems to affect her. I get people mourn in all kinds of ways but it seems odd. Her sexual tension with Ehiru is also weird and underdeveloped. Perhaps this is meant to be a callback to The Narcomancer, but it doesn't accomplish much in this narrative.

Another issue I had was emotional connection to minor-yet-important characters. Kinja dies offscreen before the story, yet is supposed to be a big part of Sunandi's past (and thus emotional arc). But he's never even in a flashback, so I never felt WHY he mattered to her. Una-une is the big one, though. It's pretty easy to figure out he's the Reaper by process of elimination, but he's barely in the story outside of a few early mentions. There's this part near the end that's clearly meant to be an emotional moment; Ehiru realizes his (apparently beloved) mentor Una-une is the horrific monster, and thus a foil to the situation between himself and Nijiri. But we never saw the relationship between Ehiru and Una-une, and nothing really established this prior... so there's no emotional payoff. It felt at times like this book was part of a much longer story that for whatever reason we never got to see. In some ways that can be useful to make the world and history seem vast, but here it made me feel emotionally distant from several characters. Perhaps flashbacks with these important characters would have helped bridge the gap. 

Credit where it's due, though; it's clear a lot of the dark, often brutal tone and stylistic flair in The Killing Moon was adapted into Jemisin's fantastic Broken Earth trilogy. Probably the most notable are the cryptic interlude chapters told from the perspective of a mysterious character whose identity is unknown until the end. We learn bits and pieces of the beliefs and lore of the world through excerpts of common laws and wisdom. I also liked the occasional stream-of-consciousness writing during tense or surreal moments. The Broken Earth is an improvement overall, but I can appreciate The Killing Moon for establishing some of these techniques early.

I enjoyed this book overall and am planning to read The Shadowed Sun. While I have some criticisms about The Killing Moon, I think it just suffers in comparison to other works I've read by Jemisin. It was still an entertaining and intense read, with a captivating and original world. It's not a story for the faint of heart, though, so please mind the content warnings.  

[itsreigns]

Blurred Lines - Part 4

Henry Cavill x Reader

Henry especifically told (Y/N) that he didn’t do relationships. But lines get blurred. And crossed.

Warnings: Slight AU. (Very) Angst(y).

Words: 1,127

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 |

Cavill Tags: 

@heelsamizayn​ | @tryingtofindaplaceinthisworld​ | @shadow-of-wonder​ | @moxleysbaby​ | @bull-moose-penguin​ | @xxsirensong​ | @tinychemicals​ | @agniavateira​ | @aaescritora​ | @aphrodites-punch​ | @elinalfrida​ | @thiccgeralt​ | @magdelen69​ | @littlefreya​ | @isharemydeathdaywithfeanor​ | @the-freak-cassie-131​ | @softchocomilk​ | @the-other-ramsey​ | @omgkatinka​ | @meinetassetee​ | @winchwm​ |

Ten days. Ten days have passed by since that day. I tried not thinking about it, but it was nearly impossible. The only times I could do that was when I was busy at work. Otherwise, I’d be busy overthinking, fantasizing about a happy ending or remembering moments I had with him. 

I had trouble sleeping. It was 8 or 80, I either fell asleep like a log and woke up with a nightmare, or I’d have an insomnia and wouldn’t sleep the whole night. I look like a mess and I know it. 

I checked his media every once in a while. I missed him. I missed Kal. 

Everything reminds me of him. Every man I see in a distance looks like him for a second. I wouldn’t admit it, ever, but subconsciously, I look for him everywhere I go, in every motorcycle I hear, in every crowd. It’s pitiful, really.

Today, I didn’t need to look for him. I was met by this gigantic poster of his new movie across the street. He looks so good. Tough and determined, but definitely so good. 

I stood there staring at it for almost a minute. It was only when this woman in a hurry bumped into me that I snapped out of it, proceeding to walk down to my workplace, lost in thought. Once I got there, Sandy had already left a ton of files on my desk. That means I’ll be occupied during the whole day, thankfully. I go and grab some coffee before settling down and start working.

I’m sad, just like the weather. The sun barely showed up. The blue sky is hidden away by all these unique grey clouds and it has been threatening to rain ever since 11 AM, but so far it’s still holding up. Now it’s almost 6 PM, the night is starting to set in, but I still have some work left. I’ll just finish this folder and then I’ll head home for a much needed hot shower. 

I’m almost done with it when my phone starts ringing. I pick it up to check who’s calling and my breath gets caught in my throat. 

It’s Henry. 

I debate for a few seconds whether I should answer it or not. I curse myself mentally because the first thing on my mind once I saw his name was “maybe he’s calling because he misses me”. Fuck you, expectations! I’m tempted not to pick up. But on the other hand, he rarely called. Even when we were seeing each other. He’d rather text or talk personally. So it leads me to think something could have happened. Also, I missed his voice terribly. 

“Hello?” I pick up, trying to dismiss the nervousness in my tone. I’m met by the sound of light sobbing and labored breathing. “Henry? What happened? Are you okay?” Now, I’m truly worried. My heart quickening up its pace, fear setting in. Especially when he doesn’t reply. “Talk to me. You’re scaring me, Henry.” I plead, tears filling my eyes. 

“I need you.” He chokes out, in between sobs. 

“I’m here, baby.” I assure him, my voice laced with emotion from finally hearing his voice. “What happened?” 

“It’s been two years.” He sobs out. “Two years. It was my fault. It should’ve been me.”

“Henry, you’re not making sense. Tell me where you are. I’ll come meet you.” I say, feeling slightly better now that I‘m talking to him, but still very worried about his state. 

The reply never comes. Only more sobbing. “Please, Henry. Let me in. Let me help you.” 

“I’m at the cemetery.” He informs me, in a small mumble. 

“The cemetery?” I question, more myself than him. “I’ll be there as soon as I can, okay?” 

“Please, come.” He pleads, and the sound of him sobbing before ending the call tears me apart. He sounds desperate, anxious. So I run to him the fastest I can, without thinking twice. 

Ten minutes later, I’m parking my car by the cemetery. I enter it, frantically searching around for him. I do a quick look around. And that’s when I spot him in the distance, sitting on the grass in front of a gravestone. I run quickly to him, stopping once I reach him. 

Sitting there, gaze settled on the stone, he doesn’t even notice me approaching him. I drop to my knees right beside him, carefully putting my hand on his shoulder. He snaps out of his trance and faces me. I feel an urge to cry just by looking at his face. 

His usually shining blue eyes are now bloodshot red from the crying. The tears are still running down his cheeks, some getting stuck on his beard. I reach out and cup his face, wiping off a couple of them with my thumb. He closes his eyes at the sudden touch, clearly trying to contain all his emotions, I can tell by the way he’s flexing his jaw. He looks so pale and hurt. 

“I’m here.” I whisper, shooting him a small and emotional smile, as my eyes get filled with tears once again. 

He lets out a sob as he leans his head into my chest. I caress his hair with my hand, the other one wrapped tightly around his shoulder, pulling him close to me. He responds by wrapping his arms around me as well. Pressing soft kisses into his hair, I quietly sob along with him. I hate seeing him like this. 

“Promise me you won’t leave.” He begs, tightening his hold on me.

“I’m here and I’m not going to leave you, Henry.” I assure him. My chest tightens once I realize all the pain and fears this man has inside him.

We stay like that for God knows how long. I didn’t care. I’d hold him for as long as he needed me to. I just wanted him to get it all off his system. 

After a while, his breathing starts getting more even, as the sobbing subsided. I press a confident and reassuring kiss to his temple before we pull back slightly, just enough for us to look at each other. 

“Feel better?” I ask gently, as I cup his jaw, running my thumb through his stubble soothingly. 

“Yes.” He whispers softly, his voice hoarse. “Thank you for coming. And I’m so sorry for bothering you.”

“I’m here for you, Henry. Always was. You can trust me.” I assure him, squeezing his shoulder. 

“I know.” That’s all he says, before turning his attention to the gravestone in front of us. 

I follow his gaze and look at it for the first time.

Kathleen Reed

1986-2018

Beloved Daughter

“Who is she?” I ask, my voice not above a whisper. 

“My fiancee.”

Give me feedback???

Part 5???

[heyhey-heyward]

expectations & disappointments | pt. 2

series masterlist

summary: Morgan Miller has lived her life under her mother’s thumb—but one afternoon with Kildare County’s most notorious Pogues changes everything.

word count: 1.2K

note from the writer: some of the tags didn’t work but inbox me to be added!

John B’s master plan was to go to the motel that the key belonged to and try to identify who the owner of the boat was. It was a pretty decent plan, Morgan conceded, but she could sympathize with Pope about not wanting to go. But when JJ teased her about not wanting to mess up her manicure—just one more jab at her being a Kook—she decided that she would be going.

Morgan knew she was pretty sheltered growing up. But the motel John B parked his boat in front was truly something else. Half of the damage could be attributed to the hurricane, but she figured most of it was just disrepair. And when Pope said that the motel looked like somewhere a person with a Grady White would get killed, she couldn’t help but agree.

Once more, she would stay in the boat with Pope and Kiara, letting JJ and John B go in by themselves. When John B and Kiara shared a moment, Morgan raised her brows and looked away. She hadn’t been close with Kiara since school ended, so the thought that there might have been a thing between her and John B caught her by surprise, though she didn’t have any reason to think otherwise.

Eventually the boys left, and everyone settled into their spots.

“Sorry I kinda dragged you into this.” Kiara started but Morgan waved her off.

“Are you kidding, Kie? This is probably the most fun I’ll have all summer.” She assured her, reclining on the front of the boat. “Between my mom and the Kooks, this is the first time I’ve actually gotten to do what I want.”

“So breaking into a motel is your idea of fun?” Pope asked, and Morgan chuckled, casting a weary eye up towards where you knew the boys were. She didn’t see them, so they must’ve made it inside.

“Is it breaking in if they have a key?” Morgan mused with a grin as Pope let out a resounding yes as Kiara rolled her eyes playfully. The conversation moved off of her, and for that she was grateful. Pope asked Kiara and Morgan about their biggest pet peeves, and she complained about not giving one hundred percent to the environment.

“Stereotypes.” Morgan replied easily. Before either of them could comment further, Morgan jumped in her spot and started to move off of the boat. “Cops. Cops, cops, cops.” She panicked, Kiara and Pope copying her actions. The deputies were headed towards the room the boys were in and that urged the three teenagers to hurry.

Kiara led Morgan and Pope off the boat and around the motel. Picking up a rock, she handed it to Pope, and gestured for him to throw it at the window. He did, but it didn’t reach, and Morgan let out a groan.

“Haven’t you ever played baseball?” Kiara questioned as Morgan and her picked up more rocks to toss. If Morgan hadn’t been so worried about making sure JJ and John B weren’t caught by the officers making their way up to the room, she would have laughed at Pope’s excuse for having a weak arm on being on the math team. Kiara’s first rock missed, but thankfully Morgan’s connected to the glass and it was seconds before John B pulled back the curtain. It was awkward, trying to convey to them that cops were coming without being too loud and discovered, but eventually the message got through. The curtain fell back into place for a few seconds before both boys climbed out the window and stood on the ledge so they wouldn’t be seen. Kiara grabbed Morgan and Pope’s wrists, tugging them back to the boat to watch from there. Just as the cops entered the motel room, Morgan had settled back into her seat.

They contemplated bailing, but they stuck it out and after a few tense moments the boys were back on the boat. John B and JJ wasted no time in pushing the boat off of the shore as Pope drove away, and Morgan did her best to stay low to avoid detection. Once they were far enough from the motel, Pope stopped the boat in the marsh so that everyone could talk about what happened. Well, mostly so everyone could freak out.

“Did you find anything?”

The question led to something straight out of one of Morgan’s nightmares. JJ pulled a gun and a stack of cash out of his back pockets. Morgan’s hands shot up to massage her temples as she turned away from JJ. When she told Kiara and Pope that she didn’t mind tagging along with them, it was before JJ had a fucking gun.

JJ Maybank had a gun.

“I’m really glad you invited me, Kie. This is—this is fine.” Morgan muttered sarcastically as she paced from one end of the boat to the other. Kiara shot her a sympathetic look, watching as Morgan moved. He was the last person that should have a gun, and though Morgan didn’t know him closely, she knew he was too unpredictable.

“You know, you don’t have to stay.” JJ commented, earning a warning call of his name from both John B and Kiara. Morgan rolled her eyes at him, taking his comments with a grain of salt. At least she stopped pacing.

“And you didn’t have to steal a gun!” Morgan shot back. This time, JJ rolled his eyes at her. It was a running theme between the two, getting on each other's nerves and snapping. It wasn’t exactly the friendship she wanted to develop with the boy, but at least she got along with the other two guys on the boat.

“Sorry you can’t handle Pogue life.” JJ continued. Morgan couldn’t help the annoyance that swelled in her chest at the blonde. He was stubborn, she’d give him that, but he was also getting on her last nerve.

“Oh please.”

“Because Pogue life means stealing guns and stacks of cash, yeah, okay.” Pope spoke over Morgan’s exasperated sigh, and John B chuckled at the bickering currently taking place on his boat. He knew it was better to let JJ get it out of his system rather than try and argue with him. Plus, he thought it was funny.

Still, after all his snide comments, JJ tossed his arm around Morgan’s shoulders as they stood on the boat trying to make a decision about what to do next. She crossed her arms, but didn’t shove him off—for the moment.

All Morgan could focus on the whole ride back to the main docks was the gun tucked into JJ’s bag and hidden on the boat. She helped tie the HMS Pogue up and joined the group of teenagers as they watched the commotion on one of the fishing boats. Morgan spotted Sheriff Peterkin, and Pope elbowed her as a body on a stretcher was pushed down the dock.

“Somehow that dirtbag had a brand new Grady White.”

Morgan hadn’t been listening to the girl that was showing John B photos of the body on her phone, because frankly the thought made her nauseous, but that caught her attention. She whipped her head around, locking eyes with the rest of the group. One thing was clear, they all knew who the wrecked boat belonged to.

Scooter Grubbs.

—

taglist:

@annedub​ @softkidinlove @obxwriterfan​ @littlewavelayingbythesea @hopelesswritingxd​ @scurtscurt2021​

[cynicallystiles]

Healing

Disclaimer: Gif originally posted by me.

Author: @cynicallystiles

Request:  Anon:  would you do a fic about being dimes little sister (Justin’s?) who was assaulted and standing up during the assembly/ sorry didn’t mean dimes meant someone’s x

Warning: Season 3 spoilers, mention of sexual assault, and cursing.

Notes: Thank you for requesting it, I hope it is somewhat like you imagined anon! Also, I went ahead and did my Justin tag even though it’s not Justin x Reader because it has Justin in it! Please COMMENT/REBLOG if you enjoy!

Pairing: Clay Jensen x Foley!Reader

Masterlist

Words: 1,555

You sat there next to Tyler for moral support at the assembly. Jessica, your brother's girlfriend and the class president, was supposed to be apologizing to another school for the homecoming incident. By incident, that means she organized a protest at the homecoming halftime and inadvertently started a riot.

That night had shocked you. As much as you wanted to support your friends, you couldn't bring yourself to get involved in the violence. So, you watched from the sidelines as they all surged onto the field to fight with the opposing team. Your brother, your friends, and even your boyfriend.

You wish you could say that that's where the consequences ended. With some cuts and bruises, and of course, Zack's broken leg. But, matters got worse from there. Bryce Walker was found dead days later. Murdered. And you and everyone you knew were suspects.

But, Clay had it the worst. He's who they wanted to pin it on. It was absurd, though. Anyone who truly knew Clay, like you do, would know that he isn't capable of doing something so atrocious. That didn't matter. All the 'evidence' was piled against him, and he had little hope that the justice system wouldn't fail him.

That's why you knew that he was going to run. Justin had come to you in a panic at school, whispering urgently about how no one could find Clay. It made you sad; how could he leave for potentially ever without saying goodbye to you. But, you also couldn't blame him. Jail would not be kind to him and you never wished to see him in that sort of pain. So, you pushed down your sadness and hoped that he'd gotten far, far away.

Back to the assembly. Jessica was supposed to be apologizing for that night so many weeks ago. But, she and her survivors' club had other plans. Plans that made Tyler nervous; so in place of Clay, you were there to give him the support and encouragement he needed for this big moment.

"My name is Jessica Davis...and I'm a survivor." She smiles confidently as she looks to the stands for others to come forward and speak their truth. The first ones to do so are from her club, as planned.

She looks to Tyler with an encouraging nod, but he shakes his head. You can see him trembling slightly in fear. Resting a careful hand on his forearm, you whisper to him, "It's okay. Whenever you're ready...we'll be here."

He smiles appreciatively as more people stand up and announce that they're survivors. It spreads beyond her initial group. Girls from the other school and also, others from yours stand up.

Next to you, you can see the struggle on Tyler's face. He wants to be brave, but he can't. That is until he looks toward the opening and closing of the gym doors. You follow his lead and see Clay setting down your brother's gym bag.

They exchange pained and concerned looks. Without warning, Tyler stands next to you. "My name is Tyler Down," he begins shakily, "and I'm a survivor." You reach up and clasp his hand for comfort as murmurs ripple throughout the gym. He looks to Clay who gives him a proud nod.

The confessions continued on. Even another boy from your school spoke up. You were waiting for the right moment, but Clay wasn't supposed to be here. And you hadn't ever told him this small fact from your past because you knew he'd have so much guilt over it. Even though it was long before the two of you met.

There's a pause in the announcements. You look over and see Justin looking at you. Your eyebrows knit together as tears prick at your eyes. With a trembling lip, you watch him stand in uncertainty. He shoves his hands in his pockets as the school goes silent.

"My name is Justin Foley," he swallows nervously and goes on, "and I'm a survivor." A tiny sob escapes your lips and you put your free hand up to cover your mouth. It shocked everyone, even Jessica. You were all too aware of him being a survivor. It was the one thing you wished the two of you didn't share.

In an odd way, though, it made you closer as siblings. But, you couldn't bring yourself to stand anymore. Because while you shared that trauma with Justin, there was also trauma you didn't share with him, and never told him about it. Even though it looked so freeing, admitting that to everyone in spite of his fear.

Another girl behind Justin stands up as he looks back over to you. He nods subtly in encouragement but you slightly shake your head, little tears slipping down your cheeks. You wipe them with your sleeve as you turn to look at Clay.

His eyes were already watching you in concern and your exchange with Justin. Your face crumples a bit, but you know that you have to do this. You want to. It's your turn to take control of your life. So after the last girl finishes, you stand up.

You let go of Tyler's hand and rub your palms nervously on your jeans. Never breaking eye contact with your brother, you take a jagged breath and speak. "My name is y/n Foley...and I'm a survivor." The first part sounded shaky, but your brother gave you the confidence to finish strong.

Tyler pats your back comfortingly and you venture a glance at Clay. He looks heartbroken. And as the gymnasium slowly breaks out in applause, started by your principal, he doesn't hesitate to make his way over to you.  Jessica finishes out her speech and everyone converges on the court to chatter with each other.

You hurry down the stairs to meet Clay halfway. He throws his arms around your waist and you do the same around his neck. You cradle the back of his head with one hand, feeling the pressure from his hands press deeply into your back.

Normally, you would joke that he's suffocating you. But, you're so glad that you're seeing him again that you don't want him to loosen up. His muffled whispers against your shoulder almost get drowned out by the mingling.

"I'm so sorry, y/n." You could hear his voice crack and you squeezed him tightly. He turns his head to press a worried kiss into your hair and it eases all your nerves.

Your nose brushes his jacket collar and you reply in relief, "You have nothing to be sorry about. It was a long time ago..."

"No," he says surely as he pulls back, hands still on your waist. "I'm sorry I almost left without seeing you," he says lowly.

Tilting your head to one side, you give him a small smile. "So you're still leaving then?" He hesitates with his mouth parted and you sigh. "I'm coming with you then."

"Y/n, you can't-" he begins to argue as Justin comes up to the two of you.

"I'm so proud of you, little sister," he smiles and pulls you away from Clay. He wraps you up snugly in his arms and you do the same to him.

You breathe deeply. "I'm proud of you too, big brother...but I have some things I need to tell you," you start before pulling back and looking at Clay, "both of you."

Tyler appears, interrupting your train of thought. Clay tells him he's proud of him, causing Tyler to smile brightly. "Also, where the fuck have you been?" Justin starts, realizing that Clay has been there for a minute.

He begins to answer when Jessica comes up, asking if Justin's proclamation was real. "Babe, we gotta go," you say as things are getting chaotic and pull on his hand.

"You're not coming with me," he argues as he shakes his head.

You frown. "Like hell, I'm not," you state. "You jump, I jump. That's the deal, Jensen."

"Woah, woah, woah!" Justin chimes in, hearing your demanding tone. "Neither of you are running! Especially, not you y/n!" Everyone starts in on their arguing and in the distance, the doors fly open.

"Clay Jensen!" Everyone goes silent to see the sheriff and some deputies stepping into the gym. "Clay Jensen, I have a warrant for your arrest for the murder of Bryce Walker."

He struts forward and roughly turns Clay around, reading him his rights as he cuffs him. Tyler steps forward but a deputy places a hand on his chest to stop him. After cuffing him, the sheriff grabs his shoulder meanly and begins to lead him away.

"No! Hey, you can't do this!" You argue sadly and try to go after him.

You feel arms close around you, holding you in place. "Don't make it worse right now, y/n," Justin whispers in your ear. "We'll find a way to fix this."

Tears start flowing down your cheeks as all your nightmares from the past weeks are playing out in front of you. Clay sneaks one last look over his shoulder at you. He sees your tears and his worried features soften into a forced smile.

The last thing you see before the doors close behind them is Clay mouthing 'I love you.'

Justin Tag:  @fandomrulesall​ @crazyfangirrll @elfie6405​