#the smut doesnt happen until chapter 4

[separatist-apologist]

Something In The Orange

Summary: Someone is trying to murder Eris Vanserra's soon-to-be wife.

And no one can rule him out as a suspect

Note: Big thanks to @octobers-veryown for the mood board and the unknown anon for the song inspiration.

For @sjmromanceweek

Read On AO3

For the entirety of Arina’s life, she’d been destined to be the wife of a Vanserra. Lucien Vanserra to be specific. The ink on her marriage contract was dried before she herself was, likely still squalling in a midwife’s aching arms as her father lamented his poor fortune. Sons brought glory, daughters cost money. 

Arina might have been angry about her circumstances in a different life. In this one, though, Arina considered herself luckier than most other women she knew. Lucien was merely a year older than her—a seventh son, too, which meant he’d be sent off to some country estate, lord of the territory his father gave him. She would have no responsibility toward a vulnerable population nor would Arina ever be in danger of becoming queen.

After years of watching her father rule, a minor lord on the outskirts of the massive kingdom the Vanserra’s ruled, Arina thought that was a blessing. There was never enough gold to go around and what little money that could be scraped together, her father took in taxes. Arina felt shame every time she was paraded through the small city they lived in, dressed in finery while the people stared up, faces dirty, clothes threadbear. 

Beron Vanserra sent a chest of gold meant for Arina every year on her birthday. It was for her education and other frippery according to the notes—though in truth, Arina suspected it was a reminder that her father owed Beron. There was no backing out, no offering Arina up for better prospects.

There were no better prospects, to be fair. No one wanted the poor daughter of minor nobility nor did they want to inherit her fathers poor kingdom. Beron intended to subsume it into his own, allowing her family the rights to the land so long as they kissed the Vanserra ring. That was her fathers problem—not hers. Arina intended to waste her time drinking and dancing and whatever else the wives of Vanserras did.

Beron put the marriage off for a total three years past their original agreement. She should have married Lucien when she was eighteen—and yet Arina wasn’t officially called to the palace until the eve of her twenty-first birthday. Arina was instructed to come without a retinue. Only her father accompanied her, silent in the carriage as they rode. He didn’t need to speak to her in order for his will to be clear—if she did anything to mess this up, the consequences would be severe.

Deadly, even.

After all, Arina’s mother had not survived long enough to bring another child into her fathers world. No sons would save their family, leaving Arina to marry well and without complaint. She’d written to Lucien over the years and he’d written back. It was hardly some great love match but he seemed nice enough. Funny, when he wanted to be, and polite when he didn’t. Arina had decided long before now that she was satisfied with this man. 

Unlike her own home which seemed to be in a constant state of disrepair, the Vanserra palace was massive. Made of glittering gold and wild, old oak, the sprawling castle dripped with wealth. The city that surrounded it was just as opulent, though there was an aura of despair hanging in the air that tasted sickly sweet in Arina’s mouth. 

There was a clear and obvious divide between those with power and influence and those who did not. Arina had expected to see wealth equally which was perhaps naive. Beron had always seemed generous to her, sending gifts of gold and jewels on a whim. Why would his people fare any differently? 

That wasn’t her problem, she reminded herself. All Arina needed to do was fulfill her end of the contract, marry Lucien, and get on with things. Arina could simply turn her face from the fingerprint stained window and study the palace. It truly was beautiful, illuminated by warm shafts of spring light and framed just beyond by newly awakened trees crammed so tightly together it was impossible to tell where one ended and the next began. 

The palace itself was walled off, using both a gate that had to be opened for their carriage to pass through, and a bridge that caused the vehicle to lurch back and forth sickeningly. Beyond, Arina saw a white, ivory garden wall encircling at least the front of the palace, monitored by guards walking the length with sharp swords and a quiver of arrows against their backs. 

That didn’t keep people out—it merely kept them aware of the fate that would befall them should anyone decide to step out of line. As Arina disembarked, smoothing the wrinkles out of her rose pink skirts, her father was patted down for weapons. No one but the guards were allowed to be armed in the presence of the king, and Arina wondered if her father would get his sword back.

No one bothered to check her, which was lucky. They’d have found a small hunting knife tucked into her boot. 

Arina didn’t expect to need it—but it never hurt to be prepared. This was a new court with new men, and the ones back home were just handsy enough that Arina felt better with a knife. An old servant had taught her to use it—in exchange for a kiss she’d been all too happy to oblige him with—before her father sent him away. 

Arina was surprised by how busy the palace seemed to be. People moved around the drive, some making their way toward the front doors, open wide as butlers checked lists before allowing them through. Others, carrying heavy baskets covered in thin, white blankets, quickly walked around the palace toward some side door servants who were expected to enter and exit. There was an obvious and clear divide—neither groups looked at the other nor did they interact. It was as if neither was there.

A game of play-pretend, Arina supposed as she fell in step behind her father. Bowing her head ever so slightly, Arina clasped her hands in front of her body and began her own game of play-pretend. In this game, she was the obedient, demure daughter of her father and would become the obedient, demure wife of Lucien, too.

“This way, my lord,” a butler dressed in black with silver buttons, beckoned for her father to follow. What would her mother think of all this? Would she have been allowed to come, too? Arina barely remembered anything about the woman who had given her life—her mother had been sick more often than not, leaving Arina in the care of nurses and governesses. 

This was how her mother had been married, though. Back then their home had been worth something and her fathers name carried weight. He’d had the pick of the available ladies and had chosen her mother.

Arina had dared to ask him why, once. She was the most beautiful of the lot.

He’d said it so dismissively, like it ought to have been obvious to Arina. She knew she was too romantic—a dozen tutors had accused her of no less over the years. She knew her marriage was about practicality and not romance and still, over the years, she’d clung to those letters from Lucien and hoped that maybe there could be something between them. He seemed friendly enough. Nice, too, though of course she might have read too much into his careful, polite words.

Arina had been holding that hope for years, though. All of it was about to come to fruition as they stepped into a small study where Beron was waiting behind a glossy top wooden desk. Huge windows, framed with maroon, velvet curtains, allowed light to stream into the room.

Arina and her father bowed, though Arina found herself looking at the man leaned up against a bookcase with a sour expression on his face.

This wasn’t Lucien—she’d seen him a few times in her youth and what she remembered painted Lucien as a man with far darker skin similar to the shade of her own skin. His hair had always been long, his features softer. This man was fair skinned and tall, muscular like it was intentional versus the accidental effects of laborious work. His auburn hair was cut short, his eyes a cool, amber brown, his features sharp as though he’d been recently carved from marble. He was beautiful and cold in equal measure and Arina was grateful he wasn’t looking at her. 

“This is your daughter?” Beron asked, rising from his chair with gleaming brown eyes. There was no mistaking him and his son—they were so painfully related even if the other man’s features came from his mother, their expressions, their posture—that was all the same.

Cold men holding court. Arina took a small step backward without meaning to, instinctively looking for the door. This caught the younger man’s attention. His gaze flicked to her face, mouth sloping into a deep set frown. Why was he here? 

There was no escape. Arina’s father caught her wrist and thrust her forward like she was little more than a prized cow at auction. Beron looked her over dispassionately. 

“She looks just like her mother.”

Arina felt frozen right then, heart pounding in her chest. This wasn’t what she’d imagined. She’d pictured Lucien greeting her and spending the next month getting to know him outside the watchful eyes of their parents. Maybe she’d see the king once or twice as he arranged their little marriage and then sent them off. 

Not this. 

“Your letter said you wanted to discuss the terms of our original agreement?” her father said, taking the hand that had once been wrapped around her wrist to place it on her shoulder. At this, the younger man looked away again, his face unable to conceal his disgust. 

Beron sighed, turning his head toward the window for a moment. “My youngest son has been accused of compromising another lady of court.”

Oh no.

Beside Arina, her father became notably interested. His expression brightened, his posture just a little more rigid. This was good news, though for the life of her, she couldn’t figure out why. Beron noticed it, too, if his own darkened gaze was any indication. Something in the original contract had stipulated for this and whatever it was, it clearly benefited her father.

“When we put the original agreement together, we accounted for this,” Beron began smoothly, picking up a neatly folded document to hand to her father. 

“We did,” her father agreed, taking that document without reading it. “I assume you’ve come to make an offer.”

“My eldest son,” Beron replied easily, gesturing to the man still leaning against the bookcase. “Eris and I have spoken and he’s agreed to fulfill his brothers place.”

Her fathers shoulders slumped ever so slightly as Eris finally righted himself, looking not at Arina but directly at her father. “It would be my pleasure,” he said in a voice that betrayed how little of a pleasure it truly was. 

It wasn’t what her father wanted, though whatever it was he’d been hoping to gain, Arina wasn’t going to find out. Beron, aware he had her father boxed in a corner, offered a slick smile.

“Why don’t we go over the terms together? I think you’ll find I’ve been more than generous.”

“You always have been good to our family,” her father gritted out through a syrupy smile. 

“Eris, show Arina her accommodations while her father and I talk,” Beron said, waving them both out of the room as though they didn’t matter. Eris had clearly been told of this ahead of time and Arina wished someone would have warned her. Nodding, Eris stepped from the room without looking at her, his shoulders tight beneath the brown of his jacket. She had no choice but to follow after him, fingers curled to fists.

Eris slammed the door behind them loud enough to rattle a nearby picture in its frame. So he was angry, too. She doubted he felt any solidarity with her—she could imagine he saw her as the enemy which was just fine, because he fared no better in her estimation, either. 

“You,” Eris barked at a passing servant, beckoning them closer. “Show the lady her room.”

“Your father said—”

“I heard what my father said,” Eris snapped, interrupting Arina before she could get the rest of her indignant words out. “Unless you think my staff can’t be trusted?”

Oh, fuck him, she thought. “Charming,” she replied, holding his gaze. Eris stared back, waiting for her to back down. Arina ought to have. If he’d been anyone else she might have looked away, but this was about to be her future husband and she’d be damned if she let him think she was scared. 

Though, she was. Arina was terrified of him.

Eris took a step back when it was clear Arina was prepared to face off with him, inclining his head to the side for a moment as though to study her. “You won’t survive a week in this engagement.”

And with that, he turned on his polished boots and left her to the nervous, near trembling servant. She wasn’t going to chase him down, nor was she going to beg him. He could be mad at her all he liked. It wasn’t until she was being shown a rather large apartment that Arina considered what it meant to marry Eris Vanserra.

Gone were her hopes of an easy, simple life. Suddenly Arina felt the weight of expectation, of a life she’d never been prepared for. She’d be the wife of a king, with all the stipulations that came with that. No matter how cruel Eris was to her, Arina would have to put on a brave face and manage it. She had to have children with that man. Arina tried to picture what it would be like before she forced the image from her mind entirely. Perhaps he’d be quick—she’d heard men were more often than not. She could grit her teeth and get through it and perhaps, if she gave him a son, he’d find himself a mistress and leave her be.

Exile her to a country estate, even, where she could run her own household and have her own life outside of him. It wasn’t the great love she’d been hoping for but it was better than nothing. Better than seven sons, like his own mother had given Beron Vanserra. Two seemed like enough. What Arina needed was a plan. 

Staring at the sitting room of the apartment she’d been given, Arina decided right then and there she would make the best of things. It wasn’t what she’d wanted, but it was still an escape from the misery of life with just her father. No more emboldened courtiers pawing at her, no more of her fathers advisors leering and touching when they thought he wasn’t looking. No more being screamed at—at least, by her father. Who knew what kind of tactics Eris might employ? 

Separate bedchambers. 

Separate lives. 

She’d smile and placate him, lulling him into a false sense of security and maybe he’d drop his attitude in favor of apathy. Starting with the dinner she was expected to attend. She’d show him right then and there he didn’t need to concern himself with her at all. Then she could try and make a friend at court who could show her around and help her acclimate herself. 

Arina was practically vibrating when she was summoned. She’d changed from pink to a robins egg blue that was entirely modest, from the high neckline to the long sleeves and she’d pinned her thick, long hair up off her face with little pearl pins that matched the ones dangling from her ears. 

She looked pretty and she knew it, just like Arina knew that men valued that above all else. When their own children asked Eris why he’d married her, he could tell them she’d been the prettiest woman he’d ever seen and it would be true enough. Maybe her children wouldn’t mind as much. 

Eris was waiting in the small dining room when Arina was shown in and to his credit, he rose from his chair the way a gentleman ought to. 

“Here,” he said, pushing out her chair with his foot. Arina forced herself to smile at him, smoothing her skirts beneath her as she sat. It was only once she was seated that Eris joined her, angled away as he fiddled with his glass of wine. Was he drunk? His cheeks were slightly flushed, his eyes bright but otherwise he had that same arrogant sneer on his face.

“You look nice,” Arina lied. He looked fine in the same jacket he’d been wearing when they met. 

Eris scoffed before downing the remnants of his cup.

“There’s no need to lie, lady.”

“Fine. You look miserable without the manners to even try and conceal it,” she heard herself saying, her good plan crumbling before her eyes. With raised brows, Eris looked over at her.

“Would you like to try that one again, my lady?”

“I was told I’d be marrying your brother,” she hissed, aware there were servants in the room and that gossip spread quickly. 

“A fate I’ve so graciously spared you from. Where is your gratitude?” Eris replied dryly. 

“Your brother seemed kind–”

“You would have been bored by the end of the month,” Eris snapped, clearly tired. “I thought all women dreamed of being princesses?”

Arina didn’t know what to say to that so she picked at the little beads on her dress if only to have something to do with her hands. 

“Well. Your father is certainly pleased,” Eris added seconds before the door opened. His goblet was refilled as her father, Beron, and a retinue of men she didn’t know or recognize strolled in. Their chatter was enough to drown out any remaining conversation between Eris and Arina which could only be a good thing. It was clearly too early to hope they might get along, and Arina needed to figure out a way to leash her temper before it got the better of her.

Again.

Arina was used to being treated as decoration. And as her father sat without acknowledging her—as Beron pulled Eris into a conversation with some of the other courtiers—Arina was left to sit there silently and eat politely. They were all covertly watching her, judging every movement, every whispered sigh, every scrape of her utensils. What would happen if they found her wanting?

She didn’t want to learn the answer to that question so Arina kept a pleasant smile pasted to her face just like she’d learned to do back home. With each new course, Arina made a delicate show of eating only a third of whatever was served to her which clearly pleased some of the older men at the table. She passed on wine in favor of water and whenever a compliment was paid to her, she made a show of dropping her gaze and thanking them demurely. 

Eris seemed to recognize her theatrics for what they were, smirking into his goblet each time she did it like there was nothing funnier to him. Arina had half a mind to kick him—and she might have, too—had something warm not begun crawling up her throat. 

She looked down at the bowl of potato soup in front of her, strangely fascinated as it warped from one porcelain bowl into two, to three, and back to a singular entity. The heat intensified, causing Arina to gasp for air. She didn’t know what possessed her, but she reached for Eris’s leg, digging her nails into the fabric of his trousers as she tried to get a grip on reality.

Something was wrong. 

She couldn’t breathe.

Arina blinked, intending to take a slow, controlled breath of air and then excuse herself. When she opened her eyes, however, she found herself laying on the floor staring upward into a pair of disinterested amber eyes. The commotion around her seemed to suggest someone was concerned—her father, maybe?

But right then, all Arina could see was the icy, bored expression of her soon-to-be husband.

And she was certain this was all his fault.

ERIS:

“What do you expect me to do about this?” Eris demanded furiously, staring at his father. He needed to get his temper in check before Beron punished him and yet Eris couldn’t help his aggrieved feelings. “If she’s so desperate to escape this marriage, let her.”

“And pay her bastard father to run his kingdom into the ground for another fifty years?”

“Why would you ever add that to a marriage contract?” Eris heard himself asking, furious that Lucien’s little dalliance with one of the Archeron’s had led him to this position. Arina was probably perfectly nice—she was certainly beautiful—and he didn’t want her. Didn’t want any wife his father picked out for him and had done a good job running them off. 

“I had seven worthless sons by then—all of whom would need wives. If not Lucien, someone else.”

“Then let Tanwen—”

“I’ll not hear another complaint from you,” Beron barked out, eyes flashing a warning. Eris forced himself to swallow his anger, to take a breath and let it go for the moment. It was clear his father wanted this to happen and his fathers will was an extension of his own. 

“She’s alive,” Beron continued, as if Eris cared about that. It was cruel, but when Eris had seen her convulsing on the ground all he’d felt was relief. She’d die and he’d be free of her, along with the entire marriage he didn’t want. “I want to know who's responsible for this and I want them punished. Quietly.”

“Consider it done.”

“Check in on your mother. She’d distraught,” Beron added by way of dismissal. 

Of course she would be. The mere words were enough to force some sympathy into Eris’s otherwise emotionless chest. Arina was merely a casualty in his fathers obsession with expansion. It should have been Lucien who arranged this deal, leaving Eris to ally with a princess who had, if nothing else, been born with the correct expectations. He’d been set on Nesta Archeron before Lucien went and mucked the whole thing up with the middle sister. Who knew Elain was her father’s favorite and he’d take it personally if a foreign born princess undressed his precious daughter?

Lucien had sworn he’d done nothing inappropriate but what was done was done. Lucien was getting a second born princess but nothing more—there would be no exchange of territory and a very loose agreement that constituted an alliance. 

And Eris was getting some rural, minor lords daughter that someone hated enough to want dead. Find out who it was, it could have been anyone. The arrangement was not popular at court and Eris considered it could be any number of lords who felt their daughters had been snubbed for Arina.

Would his father execute one of his favored courtiers? All for one woman they’d made a bad deal with? Her father must be delighted, Eris thought, to realize what had once been a decent marriage would now elevate him into the father-in-law to a king. He’d be given titles and wealth far beyond what he currently already possessed.

Eris felt his feelings harden toward Arina again. 

He found his mother in her private apartment, wringing her hands with tear stained cheeks. “Oh, Eris,” she breathed, wrongly assuming he must be upset over what he witnessed. Eris opened his arms to her all the same, pulling his crying mother against his chest. She cared, which made her far better than him in every measure that mattered. Too good for the Vanserra’s in general, though no one would dare say so. 

“Is she alright?” 

“I assume so,” Eris replied, earning himself a swat. It wasn’t hard enough to hurt nor was it malicious. His mother looked up at him with disappointment as Eris walled himself up to keep himself from internalizing her words.

“You haven’t gone to check?”

“I met her this afternoon and it didn’t go well,” he replied, following his mother to a little two seater couch facing the fireplace. “I think I can wait until tomorrow to offer my sympathies.”

“She seems like a nice girl,” his mother sniffed, dabbing her eyes on a handkerchief Eris had produced from his jacket pocket.

Nice wasn’t how he’d describe Arina. He had the sense she was more than the doe-eyed thing he��d witnessed at dinner, if her little snappish comments were anything to go on. 

“Did you know father would have to subsidize her fathers territory if she didn’t marry into our family?” Eris asked, already knowing the answer. Of course she didn’t—Beron didn’t tell his wife anything. 

“I know you’re upset about losing Nesta,” his mother began, misunderstanding what bothered Eris so much. Everyone kept assuming it was a love match between them rather than a practical understanding of the power they might wield together. Nesta had understood it, had even agreed right up until Lucien was caught with Elain. “But would it be so terrible to readjust your expectations, Eris?”

Yes, it would be. Without Nesta, Eris was still trapped under his fathers thumb and now responsible with keeping Arina from becoming trapped as well. There would be no money, no army, no powerful woman with a kingdom of her own to stand behind him should he fail. Just another powerless girl shoved at him and unlike the last one, Eris couldn’t send her back.

“Your projecting,” Eris replied. “You are nothing like her.”

“I remember how I felt when I was brought here. My own father was pretty quick to leave just as soon as our marriage license dried and I was on my own. You know how…busy…your father is. You could try to make her feel welcome.”

“You managed just fine,” Eris said, though as the words left his mouth he felt instant regret. His father was brutally cruel to his mother when the mood struck him, swinging between open devotion and clandestine violence seemingly on a whim. His mother had managed in spite of his father and he knew he’d just inadvertently told his mother none of it was a big deal. “I’ll talk to her.”

It was a compromise to wipe the look of hurt from his mothers face. She was the only woman Eris had ever loved and as far as he was concerned, the only woman he’d ever love. He wasn’t interested in caring for someone the way his father cared about his mother. It made him obsessive, controlling, and at times, violent. Eris didn’t want to lose himself that way and was terrified that it was in his nature to love someone that way. Not that he’d ever admit it—but it was useful information to know about himself.

Eris didn’t visit Arina until the next morning, busying himself at night with his favorite distraction: too much whiskey and Lady [whoever]. He wasn’t married yet, and Eris had never promised Arina anything, least of all his fidelity. Eris found her sitting in a window, knees hidden beneath a pale yellow dress. 

Eris had seen a lot of women in his life. More women than most men if he was being honest with himself. Since he’d come of age, women had thrown themselves at him and he’d allowed it, delighting in the attention and the ease with which he could get someone into his bed. And in the course of his dallying, he’d seen countless noble women with their hair unbound. 

And yet something happened when Arina turned her wan face to look at him. Her hair was long and thick, draped nearly to her waist as it fell in soft, brushed out waves. He might not have given it a second thought had she not turned her head just in that moment, allowing a rather bright beam of light illuminate the golden strands and warm her otherwise wan face.

Gods, but Arina was the most beautiful woman currently at court. Maybe in the world—Eris couldn’t remember seeing anyone more lovely even when they were as sad as she currently was. Eris found himself at a loss for words which Arina chose to interpret as mocking.

“Do you need something, prince?”

“I…” 

She turned her head away from him, rolling her eyes as she did. That was enough to remind Eris that she was merely a woman and not one he particularly cared about. Sexual attraction would help, if nothing else. “You’re well?” he asked, grateful to hear the sneer had returned to his words.

“No thanks to you.”

Eris pushed off the door frame he’d been leaned again, stepping into the airy, soft room she’d been given. It was fit for a princess and he wondered how it compared to her rooms back home. He’d heard stories that the estate was dilapidated, its staffing sparse. What it had was a good defensive position given its rocky landscape and the river that choked off other invasion points, forcing any army coming over land to take one specific path forward which made it easily picked off. 

Or, so his father said. Eris had never seen it, had never had any desire to. He’d been offered, but back then Arina was Lucien’s fiance and Eris had opted not to join in favor of remaining at home. What a waste given his current circumstances. Eris would have liked to have known exactly how to lord his wealth and power over his new wife, if only to keep her from snapping at him.

“Did you imagine me a physician?” Eris asked with some amusement. 

“I imagined you as someone with manners,” Arina shot back, drawing her knees closer to her chest. “Not the sort of coward who would delight in watching his betrothed die before his very eyes.”

“What did you say?” he asked, more taken aback than angry. No one had ever spoken to him that way. 

She didn’t even look at him. “I said you’re a coward and you were hoping I’d die. And I didn’t say this next part, but I don’t want to be married to you, either. I’ve heard stories about you.”

Eris’s heart thudded in his chest. “What kind of stories?”

“How you left a woman to die in your forest rather than marry her. That you’re capable of that kind of cruelty.”

Ah, Morrigan. How he’d never live that accusation down. Eris hadn’t bothered to try and had no intention of explaining the circumstances to Arina given what she was covertly accusing him of. She thought he’d tried to kill her?

Eris wanted to put that accusation to rest. “If I wanted you dead, princess, you’d be dead.”

He watched her press her lips together, saw how those mossy green eyes hardened with hatred. His mother was going to kill him the moment she got Arina alone and learned about this. 

“Then you should know if I wanted you dead, you would be dead.”

She shrugged her slim shoulders. “It sounds to me like you aren’t particularly skilled in that arena.”

“Are you daring me?” Eris asked incredulously. 

“Merely making an observation,” she replied, turning to look at him again. Eris found he preferred when she didn’t given how beautiful her face was and how stupid it made him. If she’d just pull her hair up, Eris could treat her like every other entitled noblewoman—just like he had yesterday.

Though, had he really looked at her? Eris had been drunk for most of the day. Maybe he simply hadn’t noticed what was now staring back at him. His wife was beautiful and the part of him that coveted such things liked that.

Not wife. Almost wife. 

“I came to see how you were doing,” Eris snapped, irritated with her and himself. 

“Your father came last night,” Arina replied, some of the spark leaving her eyes. 

“My father?” he asked, eyes scanning her form quickly. 

“To offer a sincere apology for the attack,” she said, hands twisting nervously in her lap. “And assure me you’d get to the bottom of it.”

“And I will,” Eris lied. For all he knew she’d merely had an allergic reaction to some new ingredient or the poison had been meant for him and not her. Eris very much doubted someone would be foolish enough to try again. 

“Yet here you are,” she dismissed, turning back to the window. Eris curled his fingers into fists to resist the urge to throttle her into obedience. His father had assured him Arina was the model of female piety, not the sharp-tongued creature he was currently looking at. 

“People clamor for my company at court, you know,” Eris said, unsure why he was bothering.

She smothered a smile. “Go bother them, then.”

“Maybe I will,” he bit back, annoyed.

“Good.”

“Fine.”

Arina merely waved him off, leaving Eris outraged as he stomped out of her room. He had half a mind to go complain to her father, if only to bring Arina into line. And then what, he wondered? Would she like him more or would it make her hate him more than she already did? Eris considered if he cared for just a moment.

And decided that he did care.

And he’d take her as she was.

#eris vanserra #the smut doesnt happen until chapter 4 #i am showing so much restraint

[heyjude19-writing]

Im the list anon again and boy do I have more for you but this time I also have some questions as well if your time allows and you are willing to answer of course. First with the other things I loved:

1) the fact that Ron warmed up to Draco so quickly! I genuinely think thats so much in character. Ron is not a distrustful person and as a middle child as they come is very easygoing and would for sure make stupid jokes at Draco

2) The patronus. My god the Patronus. I seriously put the phone down and made a small slow clap during that chapter. At first I was like hmmmm *insert unsure kombucha girl face* because almost all fanfics have him with a dragon patronus and leave it at that (and lets be honest at this point my expectations of you were quite high dont blame me blame your bloody brilliant writing) but then, and I dont know if you did this on purpose or not (I have a feeling you did) but the fact that the dragon was the same (pale white) wounded but still feral dragon that Hermione FREEED (!) from a bank (£££) dungeon, malnourished and used for its nature, surrounded by darkness, wealth and misery!! And it was Hermione who broke its chains!!!!! Is just *chefs fucking kiss* slow clap*

3) the way you describe sex scenes are so natural! Ive never read a fanfic or book that doesnt make me gag a little bit (I am not a fan of smut at all but ill go with it because of a good story) until I read yours. Its so simple but yet intricate and you make the entire act so intriguing and normal and intimate. Bravo.

4) I LOVE SASHA. I love that Theo fell for her head over heels and the way you portrayd her reminded me of a friend of mine who works as a sous-chef in London so I always pictured her when reading it!

5) Dracos inner voice is ON POINT. Like I genuinely think you shoud own the rights to that character now.

6) Ill say it again. I love Ginny. You should also own the rights to her character too.

7) my interest for Quiddich (even when reading the books/wathcing the movies) was on par, if not lower than Hermiones. You managed to get me interested in that too so yes another slow clap to you

7.1) Also such a clever career for Draco!! Made si much sense!

Now to some questions

A) What was the deal with Malfoy referring to Ginny as Weasly and refusing to aknowledge her Potter surname. And why did everyone kept correcting him? It was hilarious granted but I wanted to know whether the reason you included this time and time again had to do wih something deeper? Or was this included as just a funny recurring joke?

B) Why did you choose for Draco to have a “fantasy” to produce a patronus and not for example for him to have had to do that after theyd exchanged “i love yous”. Very interesting angle and i liked that it was sort of a loophole to all the ‘death eaters cant have patronuses’ but quite curious on the thought process

C) Why did you opt for Draco to remove his mark? Do you think that stands as reward for him more or for Hermione? Very smart solution by the way

D) if you have the time- Could you please elaborate a tad more on what the soul-bonding means? Why was it so taboo? At furst hand it seems like a very romantic/amazing thing to do with your partner right?

Lastly- Do you ever itch to make a second part to this? And in the most acceptable case that you dont, I always wondered what you had in mind for them in the future- because of the soul bonding thing, you mentioned that the generational curses will be erased, which means I guess that the Malfoys can have more than one child now, and girls as well. (I cannot believe im asking for this as I am the one to avoid any pregnancy fanfics but) do you imagine them with children and if yes, how many? How do they integrate muggle devices(I know youd agree wit me that Hermione would definitively bring some muggle stuff over!) and which devices would Draco really secretly like?

Pleasewriteasecondpartwhereyouelaborateyourthoughtsonthisthankyou.

Ok rant done. :D

List anon! You’re back with another amazing ask. I’ll do my best!

1.) I like to think Ron matured a lot post-war (not enough to stop making terrible jokes, though.)

2.) Regarding your beautiful analysis of my specific dragon breed for Draco’s patronus: How many points would you like for your Hogwarts house of choice? I will add that according to Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, the Ironbelly’s scales are normally a metallic grey. I will also add that I subscribe more to book canon than movie canon. In the book version of events of the Gringotts escape, Harry breaks the chains and Hermione (with eventual help once the boys catch on) destroys the ceiling so it can have a way out. The partially blind dragon does the rest of the work on its own.

3.) Thank you, that’s very flattering.

4.) Does your friend also get you into fancy restaurants and can they make salted caramel bread pudding???

5.) Thank you, it was one of my favorite aspects of writing this story.

6.) Thank you, she’s so fun to write and flesh out from her book portrayal.

7.) Haha, I felt so validated by that line of dialogue in Cursed Child when Draco tells Harry he wanted to play quidditch professionally, but wasn’t good enough.

Now to some answers:

A.) It’s definitely a recurring joke. It’s up to the reader to interpret Draco’s actions here: is he doing it to be a massive troll? Or is he genuinely not retaining the information of her married name because he considers this fact so unimportant that he does not bother to keep it in his brain? Troll, snob, or both, you can decide!

B.) I’ll address the second part of this first, because it was not intended as a loophole. I 1000% do not understand the “death eaters can’t have patronuses” thing. It makes absolutely no sense. Snape has a Patronus. But beyond that… Umbridge has a Patronus (a cat). If we’re letting that woman have a Patronus, then yeah, I think Draco can cast one. As for the vision that Draco used to conjure it… up to you whether that’s a fantasy or a glimpse of a certain ritual actually working. Draco’s thoughts on the matter: “An image of such striking tangibility that he might have already lived it, or perhaps experienced time in such a way that he lived it now.”

C.) I wanted Draco to have a choice, obviously a recurring theme for him in RN. For my characterization of him, that symbol on his arm causes him nothing but shame and self-loathing (see the end of chapter 36 during his heart-to-heart with Hermione). He’d already exercised almost every known avenue to rid himself of it before Hermione entered his life (he lists these in chapter 44). Hermione already loved him (and has told him so) by the time she’s figured out how to remove it: “I love the man you are today and I will love that man tomorrow, bare forearm or not. I simply wanted you, for once, to have the choice. It’s your body.”

D.) Ooh anon, you are tempting me here. I really hate to be coy, but you might see some future writing on this very topic.

I can at least answer the taboo part: I think soul magic in general (horcruxes, the use of unicorn blood) is quite taboo in the HP universe. As no one knows what happens after death (not even ghosts, Nearly Headless Nick says as much when Harry asks him point-blank in OoTP) I think most magical folk would think the intense ritual (blending magical cores) an unnecessary thing anyway. As Draco explains in chapter 48, since no one actually knows the effects or if it works, it’s considered a bit over-the-top since it’s probably futile anyway. It is also not a Vow with a death component; Narcissa is obviously alive in this story even though Lucius is already dead. I wrote the generational curse protection theory in as a dig at Cursed Child for the way they handled Astoria’s character.

The idea of it I think is romantic, but I will stress it is very dependent upon the intent of the two participants. To quote Draco in chapter 48 again: “To twine one’s soul to another showed a willingness to not only physically tether one’s self during your time here on earth, but to commit to a blending of your magical cores, putting faith in your magic to recognize its bonded counterpart in another life. Should other lives even exist.”

If you re-read Draco’s experience during the bonding ceremony in chapter 51 (starting from this bit: “The cognizance of his own powers never felt sharper, more familiar, but suddenly another power pulsed within to join with his.”) you might find it bears a resemblance to the trajectory of their relationship.

Lastly- I’ve left Draco and Hermione to their wedded bliss. I’ve got nothing planned for them beyond where they are in the final lines of chapter 51. I don’t have that itch to write more into their future because it would feel forced. Draco laid out his two envisioned futures with Hermione in chapter 48 when they discuss having or not having children. They are happy and content in the life they chose together. That’s all I ever wanted for them.

You will see more from this story though. I have an entire series of one-shots and outtakes from the published Remain Nameless timeline that I’ll start posting soon.

Thank you so much list anon! These were fun to answer!

#remain nameless #dramione #list anon #asked and answered

[dylanobrienisbatman]

10 FANFIC QUESTION TAG GAME

tagged by @hopskipaway <3 (This was really fun, thanks for tagging me!)

1. what’s your favourite genre to write?

I honestly dont really know anymore. When i started writing fanfic, I stuck mainly just to romantic centric fics for Bellarke, angst fluff and smut sort of all featured to some degree, but only modern and canonverse really. But now that I write for @chopped100challenge, I have really branched out in my writing, and I’ve found that I really enjoy playing in other genres, so who knows anymore. I think now I enjoy challenging myself to write things I wouldn’t have ever thought of when I started writing!

2. do you pull inspiration from real-life, or do you pull things from other books/fanfic?

I never really pull from real life, honestly. There are a few fics where I’ve sat down and pulled directly from a source, like my Timeless fic, my Hunger Games AU, and i’m working on a Viking shield maiden fic that’s inspired by the show Vikings, but generally I try to work with the ideas from the tropes rather than pulling from other places. I love the prompt generator that @thelittlefanpire made up for Chopped, thats a great spot of inspiration for me.

3. do you tend to write one-shots, short stories, or longer things?

Lately most of my work is over 6k, but I generally dont go past 10kish. I like a longer fic, but not super long. I never feel like I can fully work out a story in under 5k anymore, (so that chopped madness fic was hard for me lol) but i also never have ideas that push me too far. My longest fic was my Becho TATBILB fic and that was such an undertaking i’d never do that again lol

4. do you prefer description or dialogue?

DESCRIPTION! omg. My dialogue ALWAYS feels clunky and unnatural, but I love trying to express what characters are feeling or the settings of a story.

5. favourite fanfic/book of all time?

I love layalioness, who has written some AMAZING luna/raven fics and a really great bellarke fic that i’ve read like a million times.

Teenandrainbows manages to write my dream fic everytime she puts ‘pen to paper’ (if you will), and i love everything she writes

thelittlefanpire never fails to impress me with her world building and beautiful descriptions, and incredibly unique and original stories, anything she writes is a treat and joy to read.

The-most-beautiful-broom is an exceptional author. Her writing is entrancing, it pulls you in with its truly intricate and full world building, and her ability to take characters we love and put them into incredibly unique stories is unmatched. I love every word she’s ever written. @the-most-beautiful-broom

As for books, I have recently been reading the His Dark Materials and Book of Dust series, which i LOVE, and I’ve been working on reading The Expanse, which is a great show and an excellent set of Sci-Fi novels. My favourite book it The Great Gatsby, i love Fitzgerald’s writing style, and i’m trying to get into reading the classics more!

6. favorite trope?

I have really enjoyed writing mythical creature fics, it’s a chance to play with the mythologies of those characters in a fun way, and also creature design. I did a siren/mermaid clexa fic once and one of my favourite parts was describing the powers Clarke had and how she looked as a mermaid! I also loved doing the mythical creature coffeeshop AU fic for Chopped 1.0, working with the werewolf mythology. I had a great time deciding how the werewolf pack hierarchy would work, and what that structure would be like for the characters I was writing. Also fun making echo a snowy white wolf, because duh. 

7. are you the kind of person to work on more than one wip?

Not really. I have plans for about 6 WIP’s right now, but I will only write one of them at a time!

8. how long have you been writing for?

My first fic I published was December of 2015, and i’ve written 67 fics since then!

9. do you tend to write more during the morning, afternoon, or evening?

I’m the type of person who writes whenever the inspiration hits. I am usually a sit down, write the whole thing in one go type of writer, unless its a more expansive/complicated story, so if the inspiration hits and i dont sit down to do it it might never get done. Usually that happens in the evening, but i’ve been known to sit down at 9am and bang out a fic before.

10. do you prefer to post your wip chapter by chapter, or do you prefer to wait until your wip is 100% finished before posting?

I never finish chapter fics, and i’ve found i dont like them because, like i said above, if i dont write the whole fic in essentially one sitting, it usually doesnt get done, unless its something that i’m SUPER committed too. Definitely an all in one, 100% done kind of writer.

tagging: @kuklash @justbecauseyoubelievesomething @kinetic-elaboration @kindclaws @she-who-the-river-could-not-hold @teeandsnowflakes and whoever else wants to!!

#tag games #fic writing #about me

[bangtanficrecs]

Lost & Found Batch #11

It’s been a while but here’s the new batch of lost fics! If you happen to know the fic the ask is looking for, reply to this post or send us an ask with the request number and title/author. If you happen to know any fics from Past Batches, those are more than welcome as well. Thank you!! ~ Admin P

1)  Hi! I’m looking for a yoonmin fix that I found on ao3 a while back. It was non-au (canon compliant) and, basically, Jimin was a jerk towards Yoongi and Yoongi was suicidal. It was later revealed that they had been in love, but were caught by fans, and had to break up, and Jimin blamed Yoongi. Then, Yoongi got really drunk one day and was coerced into sleeping with a fan?? It was a really good story and I can’t find it now,,

2) Hi idk if you would be able to help me since I don’t have a lot of details but awhile ago I was reading a fic where I believe it was of namjoon and jungkook?? I can’t remember who the pairing was exactly. anyways all I can literally remember is there was a smut scene where jungkook is blind folded and at one point that’s a carrot involved. I’m trying to find the author and I’ve looked through my ao3 history but can’t seem to find it. If you can’t find it I appreciate your help! Thank you

3)  I read this fic a while ago that was Jungkook-centric where Jungkook and Jin were stepbrothers and Jungkook's dad was abusive but Jin's mom didn't know that until they got married and so they ignored Jungkook so his dad wouldn't beat them too until his dad saw Jin with Namjoon and raped him and Jungkook got Namjoon to get Jin out of the house. If there's any way you can find this fic for me I would really appreciate it, I've been looking for it FOREVER. Thanks!

4)  I’m trying to find a fic that was on ao3. I can’t remember the pairing, but during the story, one of the members was acting childish and being obnoxious for attention and another member ended up punishing him for it, but not giving him any aftercare. A different member finds the original guy nearly hysterical and is his ‘daddy’ they do talk afterwords but that’s all I can remember.

5)  Hey:) I’m looking for a fic I read a long time ago about yoongi and he takes care of Namjoon and they live on the street and then Namjoon gets snatched. And so yoongi becomes a prostitute and then saves jimin and Taehyung from being snatched in a convenience store and they bring Jungkook home and it’s super cute and sad. Please help me!!

Bang Bang (You Shot Me Down) by signifying_nothing - note: the fic is locked and requires an AO3 account to be viewed

6) Hi, Ive been trying to find a fic for like a month but am having no luck. If a main pair Namjoon x Jimin ABO AU where Jimin is an omega who is living with Tae in college and JM presents late. He initially is with Hoseok but HS cant satisfy him and NJ has feelings for JM and eventually they end up together. I know there is a camping trip and Seokjin is barren (i think thats the word they use). JM+ NJ end up mating but JM leaves to stay with his aunt and YG has to convince him to talk to NJ THANKS

baby steps (i'll hold you tight) by voseok

7) Hello, I am looking for a fic. Last time I read it, it was still ongoing. Multichaptered but each chapter was a fic on its own. The theme was Jungkook and Taehyung finding each other in each universe but not ending together? In one fic, BTS were all in politics. Namjoon was running for president and Kook was some prodigy, trained by G-dragon. It was on AO3 but I can't find it anymore as I forgot to bookmark :(

8) Hi! I’m looking for a yoonmin ff that involves either jimin or yoongi being deaf or mute. There was a part in the story that i remembered which was when jimin or yoongi was in the toilet and they ran out of toilet paper also another part was how someone’s slaughter and moaning (sorry bout that) was described as huffs? I don’t really remember much and it’s a really vague description but I really hope you can find it!! Thank you!!

9) Hello! Could you help me find a fic where hoseok is a writer and yoongi is an artist? I think the story starts off with their childhood days. Thank you in advance!

10) Hii i was wondering if you know and could tell me about the fic where jimin and yoongi were a couple and yoongi was planning to proposed jimin but sadly jimin got into a plane crash when he was headed to somewhere for a dance competition and a year after the incident yoongi met jimin again

you are my sunshine, my only sunshine by yururin

11) Hey i was looking for this where jin cant be part of bangtan anymore because he got some rumours going on about him

Save Me by resonae

12) Hey there! I'm looking for this angsty fic that was set in the prologue/run era where everyone got a little too drunk one night and tae and namjoon accidentally stumbled into a lake after doing graffiti and died? the fic mainly focuses on the other members trying to recover from this tragedy and there weren't specific pairings. I can't remember where I read it. thank you!!

13) hi! i wanna find this Jihope fic,it's in aff. It's an mafia and abo au. I don't remember the summary of the story. Here’s what i remember; there’s an arrange marrige btw Hope & JM,before JM's father's dead, he give this letter to him, told him to open on his 20th birthday. when JM give it to the office, Jhope come & get him, and turn out he is Mafia & the head mafia's bride-JM's called Donna. Also, JH's alpha, JM's omega

14) do you know of a myg/pjm/jhs fic where pjm is a prince sent off to the wizard myg. People have to try and fight the wizard to win pjm's hand. Jhs promised pjm that he'll come for him in a year and join the royal army. Pjm slowly realize that he is is love with both myg and jhs. Later pjm gets hurt and dissapears and so jhs takes his anger out of myg and later jhs and myg elope

His Captive Heart by Etna

15) Hello!! do you guys kmow a fic where most of bts (except jm+nj) get stuck in a bad winter snow due to car accident and there's some dude in the woods out to get them and has got sj + hs. I think yg got a gash in his leg also. yg jk + th are try to get sj hs back and hs sacrafice himself a lot to the dude to protect sj

Never Have I Ever by Someplace_Else

16) Uh, hello!!! I hope it’s okay that I’m asking, with the temporary hiatus and stuff. But I lost a fic I had read a while ago and I want to read it again. I can’t remember the pairing but it was Yoongi x someone. Yoongi worked in an arcade with Jimin and he had tried to commit suicide but his best friend, hoseok, found him and forced him to go to a therapy/support group. Actually, you know I think it was taegi??? Anyway. Sorry again, hope this isn’t like... annoying or anything!!!

17) thank you so much for running this blog! anyways, i’m trying to find this fic [spoilers]- the plot is that jungkook self harms until he meets v, who appears to be super cheerful until jk finds out v has eating disorder. so they make a “deal” where if jk cuts, v doesnt eat. eventually something happens to v (i forgot if it was moving away or death), until jimin appears who actually is cheerful & helpful. it was on ao3 but i can't seem to relocate it (so idk if it got taken down...?) thank you!

18) hey! do u know a namjin werewolf au where jin is from another pack but he got hurt and was found by jimin (not sure) and ended up joining namjoon's pack and fell in love with him? ive been searching for this fic but i couldn't find it :"((

19) Hi, I’m looking a taekook fic and its based off the music video of Taylor Swift’s you belong with me. To taekook are best friends but taehyung loves jungkook. But jungkook has this girlfriend, I think her name is Yujin or something, who hates Taehyung because he’s gay. Thanks :)

20) hi! i read this fic once centered around the members trying to teach taehyung things through spanking? one of the chapters was hoseok teaching taehyung to use a safeword

smack that (give me some more) by ireallydontknowok

21) hello lovely admins! i am currently in a pickle (when am i not) and lost a fic, it’s on ao3 for sure and it’s a yoonseok centric fic where they have a dom/sub relationship, yoongi being the sub, but! hoseok invites (or brings) rm and guk over from his office and the plan is that they fuck yoongi, rm is used to it but guk is pretty freaked out, they do end up having sex and i clearly remember that yoongi sucks guk’s dick (sorry for being so crude ;-;) anyways, that’s all i remember! good luck 💕

#lost and found #lost and found batch #to the anon that was worried about sending an ask during my hiatus don't worry!! #it's perfectly okay #this is so long omg some of the asks are 2 months old sorry

[sweetersuga]

Coquette | 3

bts x fuckgirl!reader high school!au | series warnings: smut, sexual themes, polygamy, angst, foul language, cheating

genre: angst, romance, smut

chapter warning: mentions of violence, underage drinking, detailed description of drug usage, somewhat smut

continuation status: yes | possibly | no

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

word count: 4,772

Your heart skipped a beat once your eyes laid upon his sweaty figure, hair disheveled, clinging to his forehead and his white wife-beater shaded a deep grey due to sweat from his armpits. He panted heavily and his arms, neck, and tip of his nose glistened in the sunlight, giving off a glowing aura that suit him perfectly. You were nearly about to whip out the “Hey Jimin! What are you doing here?” line until you remembered: He was your next door neighbor.

Either way, you still greeted him. “Hey Jimin. What’s up?”

He looked you up and down before digging in his pocket, pausing his music. “Hey y/n..” his chest heaved up and down as he attempted to catch his breath. “Ah, just went for a jog. You?”

“Was over at Taehyung’s,” you shrugged truthfully. He tensed up before slowly nodding. “I guess I’ll get going home then-”

“Wait! Are you going to Hoseok’s party?” you cut him off eagerly. He looked taken aback as he nodded at your question, leaving you with a growing grin on your face.

“When was it again? Next Thursday?”

“Yeah. His parents are heading outta town apparently 'til Sunday. Anyways, I gotta go. See you later I guess?” he frowned, walking straight past you until he reached his front lawn and entered his house, slamming the door closed. You watched him blankly until his figure disappeared and let out a sigh as you headed towards your own lawn, walking up the short steps before entering your home. You greeted your parents curtly before heading upstairs to your room.

Looking at the clock, you saw it was already 8pm and you felt quite worn out all thanks to Taehyung, and you were about to jump onto your bed and pass out, when your phone vibrated in your pocket.

You rolled over and groaned as you pulled it out and unlocked it. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion due to the fact that a blocked number had texted you.

**BLOCKED NUMBER** @ 8:24PM: you seriously fucked taehyung didnt you?? how pathetic

You reread the message over and over in your head, shifting your position so you were now sitting up.

You @ 8:24PM: who is this?

**BLOCKED NUMBER** @ 8:24PM: lol, im sure you can take a guess who y/n

You rolled your eyes.

You @ 8:25PM: jungkook then huh. how the hell are you texting me? i blocked you

**BLOCKED NUMBER** @ 8:25PM: that doesnt matter. just fuck off will you? youre fucking lucky youre a girl or else i wouldve beaten your ass by now

You @ 8:25PM: as if you would. also, dont act like im the only one who initiated it! tae was just as into it as i was, if not then more :)

After you sent that text, you didn’t get a reply. You snickered to yourself and tossed your phone back down onto your bed, heading towards the bathroom to take a hot shower. You twisted the nob before pulling the handle out on the hot water setting, sighing in relief once the shower head began spraying, some droplets of water hitting your clothed shoulder. You took a pair of pajamas out from the closet in your room and rid your body of the dirty clothes you wore out.

You were about 5 minutes into your shower when your mother knocked on the door before opening it.

“You got a text, y/n. I was just in your room to lay out your laundry,” she placed your phone on the sink counter, exiting the bathroom. You stepped out with a sigh while patting your feet of excess water against the rug, prior to grabbing your phone and unlocking it.

Your hand flung up to cover your mouth as your eyes laid upon the image Jungkook had sent you.

It was Taehyung. Except, his normally beautiful side profile was littered in cuts and bruises. Blood trailed down his busted lip in a thin line, on the bridge of his nose there was a visible slit that looked like it had been obviously wiped away at, as there had been dried, dark brown blood crusted around it, and underneath his eye looked swollen and almost shut closed - you knew it would form a bruise later.

The thing is, in the picture, he was casually sitting down on a textured brown cotton couch - the same one you remembered you gave Jungkook a handjob on - with his arms leaning behind the couch, and it even looked as if he was smiling while most likely staring off into a TV, as some sort of light source lit up his usually tanned skin.

You tore your eyes away from the picture shortly after, deleting it from the messages so you wouldn’t gaze upon it again. Did Jungkook do that himself? How fucking angry could he have managed to get from knowing you had sex with Taehyung?

Instead of replying to Jungkook’s vile photo, you texted Taehyung instead.

You @ 8:33PM: tae! what did jungkook do to you??

You had gotten a reply almost immediately.

Taehyungie ♥ @ 8:33PM: Jimin snaked on you to him about us

Taehyungie ♥ @ 8:34PM: Kook got pissed but it’s all good now. Why?

You let out a scoff in disbelief and quickly typed out a message in response so you could hurry with your shower.

You @ 8:34PM: because he just sent me a pic of what happened and i was worried is all. but dont you think thats .. idk fucked up?

Taehyungie ♥ @ 8:34PM: I’m not the only one who got fucked up 😂  But he’s just mad about us so he needs to deal w it you know

'Us’? Did Taehyung think he and you were exclusive now? Your eyebrow quirked and you let out a short snicker, setting your phone back down on the counter so you could hurry and finish washing off, leaving Taehyung on read.

After you got out, you simply agreed with him and told him you were heading to bed as an attempt to quickly cut off the conversation. You couldn’t help but think that Taehyung was starting to develop a crush on you. I mean - you HAD been the one to take his virginity away, and smoothly at that.

And you were right. As soon as you left, all he could think about was you. The thing is, Taehyung knew about you already and he knew you messed with Jungkook, his friend; but he couldn’t help but see the good in you. He thought that maybe, he could be the one to change you if you bonded enough because you already shared the same interests. Oh, the poor boy.

That doesn’t mean Jungkook didn’t warn him either. ‘She’ll use you, all she’s good for is sleeping around!’ he hissed. ‘Whatever, I don’t care. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.’

And Jungkook told the rest of his friends, too. But the difference when it came to boys and girls was that boys never cared, since they obviously weren’t the ones who would get hurt - right?

Once Monday came, you trudged through the school corridors in boredom, gently flicking the hair that fell out of your neat ponytail from your face.

Heads all shot towards your direction, but you ignored them as you already knew what they were probably wondering. ‘Where’s Yugyeom, y/n?’ you inwardly mocked them bitterly at the thought. You already knew where he was, though; you saw him right before you entered the school building, feeling up a girl you knew as Irene against the stairs’ railing in front of the entrance doors. You couldn’t help but feel a bit jealous, pretty much forgetting how you slept with Taehyung as the image of a naked Yugyeom raided your mind.

You were so lost in your thoughts, that you didn’t even notice you bumped straight into Taehyung’s firm back.

“Oh, sorr-” you started, pausing once he turned around and made eye contact with you. Great, just what you needed.

He was standing with his friends, two of them who you recognized as Hoseok and, surprise surprise, Jimin himself. The others you had seen before but didn’t know their names. He wore a band aid over his nose bridge and his eye looked slightly less swollen, but there was still a bit of crusted, dry blood that built up in the slit on his bottom lip where you assumed Jungkook struck him.

“Oh, hey y/n,” he smiled warmly. You could feel Jimin’s eyes burning holes in your face as he stared at you and Taehyung, most likely waiting for you to fuck up over your words.

With all your might, you managed to pull a bright smile while staring up at him bashfully and pulled him in for a hug. His grip on your smaller figure tightened the longer you held him, and you peaked a glance at Jimin, whose glare still pierced through your soul. You gave him a small smirk and a wink, quickly before pulling away from Taehyung’s warm chest. You pretended as if you hadn’t just been eyeing up Jimin’s aggressive frame as you made small talk with Taehyung instead.

“How are you? Aish, Jungkook really did a number on your face..” you murmured quietly as you stroked his cheek. “It’s a shame, but I’d be lying if I said you still didn’t look as hot as ever.”

He leaned into your touch and closed his eyes, shoulders heaving gently as a chuckle erupted from his chest. “He’s got it worse than I did. Fucker shouldn’t have started it,” he pouted.

“Yah-!” Jimin snapped, causing Taehyung to avert his attention to the boy who obviously wanted nothing but to get away from your presence. “Class starts in a few minutes. Let’s go, I’m not gonna be late again,” his eyes rolled.

“Ah- go on then,” Taehyung swatted him away. “Y/n, wanna catch up or something at lunch?”

Jimin just scoffed before he and the rest of his friends headed off towards their separate classes, Hoseok following after him casually.

“Hmm,” you pretended to ponder for a moment, grabbing your chin. “Yes!”

Taehyung grinned and his eyes squinted upwards for a moment before he nodded. “Alright then! I’ll see you later,” he exhaled before leaning down and brushing his lips against your cheek. He saluted you playfully as he walked backwards, heading off towards his classes.

You and Taehyung sat at the table you normally sat at. He hadn’t even bothered passing his usual table where the rest of his friends were.

He also had asked you the question you were basically dreading the most: ‘What are we?’

Oh, how you’ve heard that one far too many times for your liking.

But, it was at that moment that you knew this could go either two ways. So you chose the option that sounded more pleasing to you.

“What do you want us to be?”

“I don’t know, y/n.. I really like you; I don’t wanna sound controlling, but if you just plan on fucking around then I don’t think we can do this anymore you know?”

You set your water bottle down, leaning your elbows against the table. Looking him straight in his feline-like hooded eyes that almost seemed to mask his entire face from any emotion; you lied.

“Then I won’t.”

For the next few days, you and Taehyung hung out publicly, causing a suspicion to raise within the “community” of your fellow schoolmates. Jungkook, surprisingly, hadn’t uttered a single word to you since the night he texted you, and you weren’t sure if you were grateful or in denial. Jimin had also laid off of you (although he was never really on, considering he just passed on what you willingly informed him to Jungkook) but that never stopped the dirty stares you’d get from him in the halls.

Then came Thursday, the night of Hoseok’s party.

You were dressed casually in a mid thigh length black skirt and a white short sleeve turtle neck, deciding not to overdo it today. Your parents weren’t home; your father was working overnight and your mom went out of town to visit distant relatives, leaving you all alone for the night.

Hoseok’s parties were wild. He wasn’t voted, quote unquote, “most likely to die of kidney failure” by his classmates without a reason. Hennessy? He had it. Cocaine? He had it. Roofies?.. no one officially knows, but we’ll assume he had those too.

Despite what someone would normally assume for a guy who spent his entire high school year partying, his house wasn’t anything huge or fancy. Two stories with a front lawn, a backyard with a built-in pool, and, for whatever deemed necessary, a hot tub that looked as if it hadn’t been touched in years, sitting in the corner by a tree collecting dust.

As soon as you entered, Hoseok greeted you with a toothy, lopsided grin. He stumbled multiple times and you assumed he had already been shitfaced and high off of whatever drug he bought last week.

You greeted him and he ushered you off to the kitchen, demanding you take shots or else he’d “kick you out,” although you already knew he wouldn’t be able to do it himself from how much he stumbled and tripped over his own feet.

The thing you liked about Hoseok was that he was a rather chill guy. He, himself, was very much into casual flings and he never greeted you with a single grain of salt - it was almost as if he genuinely didn’t care what anyone said about you, let alone what you’d do with others. Even though you weren’t close enough to consider yourself friends, you’d like to think you were “close acquaintances.”

You took the shot glass from his hand and chuckled - everyone around the island table in the kitchen cheered you on, fists raising and lowering in the air as they chanted your name.

“Why are you guys so excited? It’s just a shot~” you teased as you dipped your head back, pouring the yellow-tinted liquid down your throat. You squeezed your eyes shut and let out a forceful cough as the alcohol burned your throat, resulting in Hoseok’s grainy laughter to fill your ears as he patted you on the back.

“O-oh, look at y/n!” he hiccuped while praising you. You chuckled mid cough and exhaled, setting down the shot glass back on the island counter before scratching the back of your neck, eyes wandering out of the cutout windowed area that separated the kitchen and led your view to the living room where many other students stood, bobbing their heads and dancing wildly to the music.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom to freshen up,” you gently swatted Hoseok away, not paying any attention to him in his drunken state behind you while he kept shouting about shots as you exited the kitchen and made your way up the stairs on the right side of the house. You’d gone over to his house tons of times for his parties, so you practically knew where everything and each room was. But, as you absentmindedly slammed the door to the bathroom opened, you had to double take at the scene in front of you.

There stood - or to put it properly, hunched - Jungkook and Jimin over the sink counter, both with a dollar bill rolled up in their hands and a thin, white line of cocaine spread out over a black card. Taehyung was right when he said Jungkook got it worse than him - he had dark purple bruises underneath both of his eyes, a huge band aid covered a gash on the left side of his forehead right below his hairline Jungkook jumped up upon hearing your presence and Jimin did the same, letting out a string of curses as his face scrunched up and he pinched his nose.

“Y/n?”

“Jungkook?”

You both called out each others name simultaneously, too awestricken to move from your positions.

“What the fuck, y/n!? Get out,” hissed Jimin as he made his way towards you, firmly gripping your wrist and yanked your hand off of the doorknob forcefully. You were still frozen in place, and a look of distraught washed over Jungkook’s paled features as he fidgeted in place.

He knew what you were about to ask, and as you opened your mouth to speak, he shut his eyes tightly, hoping everything would disappear and it was all a dream. “Isn’t your dad a cop, Kook?”

“Y/n, that’s enough,” Jimin warned you, letting go of your wrist. He tried to shove you out of the doorway but you wouldn’t budge. Instead, you walked past him further into the bathroom and shut the door yourself, still preoccupied with Jungkook. With folded arms, you cocked your head to the side and tapped your foot against the tile flooring, waiting for an explanation.

“So fucking what?” he muttered weakly. With a sigh, he pushed back the black card further towards the mirror and tossed the dollar into the sink, rubbing his frown lines intently.

“Couldn’t you get into deep shit if he ever found out? I mean, screw the weed and alcohol. This is cocaine we’re talking about!”

He rolled his eyes. “And why the fuck do you care? Just fuck off, will you?”

“Hoseok? You get it from him?” you ignored his question.

“No.” he scoffed. “Who do you think he gets it from, dumbass?” Jungkook’s eyes widened as he realized he accidentally outed himself to you.

“You’re telling me.. you sell drugs? You, as in Jeon Jungkook?” you slowly questioned in disbelief.

“I swear to God if you tell anyone y/n-”

“You’ll do what?” you cut him off. “You don’t know a thing about me. What you do know, so does everyone else.” you shrugged.

He exhaled deeply, shifting his weight to his other foot. “Fine. What do you want then?”

“I want a line, too!”

You hadn’t remembered that Jimin was still in the bathroom until the door creaked open and a giggly girl stumbled in with a boy, slightly taller than her with his hands attached to her waist. Her eyes found your annoyed ones and upon seeing all three of your presences, she blushed profusely and apologized, slamming the door shut behind her and the boy as they left.

Jungkook’s attention reverted back to you and he scoffed in disbelief. “What? Why, so you can rat me out when you get caught high off your fucking mind? No thanks.”

“Jungkook, I’m pretty sure I can handle one little line of fucking coke. Try me,” you smirked.

“Alright then. But when you get caught doing some dumb shit, don’t come running to me.”

He pulled out a small ziploc baggy from his back pocket and emptied the remaining containments onto the black card, and using a razor you hadn’t noticed on the counter before, he began scraping at and separating the coke into three thin lines.

“Just use-just use the dollar in the sink,” he pointed out, wiping his nose on the back of his hand a few times. You nodded and bent your head down to line it up with the drug, taking a deep breath before inhaling sharply.

Once it passed through your nose, you immediately began coughing and rubbing your nostrils frantically, displeased with the foreign feeling and Jimin laughed at you, pushing you over gently so he could snort a line of his own. He obviously took it way better than you did, giving off the impression he had done this many times before, which honestly worried you. Not only for Jimin, but Jungkook as well. They may have both hated your guts, but you weren’t so horrible that you didn’t feel a bit uneasy for them once you caught them red handed.

Jimin let out a sigh in relief and kicked his head back while he leaned against the counter. You backed out of the way as Jungkook replaced you in your spot, taking the dollar from between your fingertips and inhaled the rest of the cocaine. He leaned his elbows against the counter silently.

“Fuck..” you muttered lowly, sliding down the wall in regret as you attempted to calm your nerves. You rubbed your head quietly, peaking up at the two boys in front of you who were still standing at the sink, as silent as could be. Jimin grabbed out a thin flask from his back pocket, sparking an interest inside of you as he opened it and poured the contaminants down his throat.

“You’re not gonna drink what Hoseok brought?” you frowned, curling your knees up to your chest as you watched him. His gaze snapped towards you, except he paused and did a double take, eyes trailing down much farther from where your own were. A smirk reached his lips before he took another sip from his flask, shaking his head no.

“Why would I drink that shit? I don’t have a death wish just yet.”

You scoffed in amusement sarcastically. “Gotta agree with you on that one!”

“I’m gonna head downstairs real quick,” Jungkook stretched. “you need anything?”

“Nah, I’m good,” Jimin rubbed the back of his neck mischievously. Jungkook nodded and headed out of the bathroom, leaving just the two of you alone.

Jimin watched as his taller friend shut the door and cleared his throat. “By the way, nice panties.”

“Wha-” you mumbled in confusion, only to look down and realize you were still wearing a skirt. Your eyes widened and you laid your legs down by your side, before laughing it off casually. “Thanks - I wore them specially for this occasion, you know.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if you did.”

“Good then I guess?”

“How’s Taehyung?”

Your breath hitched your throat, failing to go unnoticed by Jimin. ‘Stay calm,’ you reminded yourself.

“He’s doing great. Why can’t you ask him yourself?”

“I’d assume his girlfriend of all people would know.. I mean, he hasn’t been spending that much time with us anymore.” he shrugged, tossing his now empty flask onto the counter. He knew exactly what he was doing - and you say this in confidence - but you weren’t going to let him get underneath your skin.

“Girlfriend?” you cocked a brow. “Is that what he told you?”

Jimin nodded.

“Well, that’s odd, because he never mentioned we were dating.. To me.”

“Don’t you like him, though?”

You rolled your eyes at his seemingly innocent question. “I don’t, and never will, like anybody.” you quoted “like.”

“Then why are you with him?” by now, you could tell he was just trying to get something out of you.

“Tae’s a cool guy,” you shrugged. “why do you care so much?”

Jimin’s eyes narrowed. He walked over to you, blocking your view from the mirror where you stood.

“Because, if you do any shady shit, I’ll have your neck on the roof of my fucking car.”

It was your turn for your eyes to narrow. “What's with all the threats from you guys? Calm the fuck down, it’s not like I’m gonna murder him!”

“Just watch what you fucking do!” he hissed.

A smirk grew on your lips. “You mean like this?” you reached your hand out to grab hold of his crotch.

His breath hitched his throat and his eyes widened as he stared down at you in disbelief, unable to form a proper sentence, mouth opening and shutting like a fish out of water.

“W-what're you-”

Your grip tightened and he winced, still staring directly at you with his wide, chocolate brown orbs. He could act tough all he wanted, but every man had a weakness - it laid limp in their jeans.

“Tell me Jimin,” you leaned in, your lips grazing his ear gently as you whispered, “do you think it’s easy for boys to resist?”

You rubbed circles over his clothed crotch, enjoying the way his breathing patterns became ragged with pleasure. His voice was quiet, almost like he was in denial as he barely audibly whispered out, “Just stop, y/n..”

“Okay, I’ll stop,” you complied, removing your hand. “but are you sure that’s what you want right now?”

There was no doubt he began getting hard from your simple, firm touches. Maybe it was the drugs and the alcohol in his system that lead him to crumble at your feet.

“Fuck - but I can’t do this to Taehyung-”

“Don’t worry about him." you silenced him, pressing your soft lips to his wet, supple ones. He tasted of alcohol; leading you to deepen the kiss as your ran your tongue over his bottom lip, savoring the way it slightly burned your muscle.

Jimin’s arms wrapped tightly around your waist and he lifted you up, causing you to yelp slightly in shock, relaxing once your felt him set you down the counter where the sink was. His lips moved in sync with yours and his arms were now wrapped underneath each thigh, tugging you closer to him as your skirt hitched up between the cold marble and your skin.

He pressed his crotch tightly to yours and you let out a moan once your lips separated, wrapping your legs around him loosely, head kicked back while his tongue and lips sloppily glided across your jaw. He tugged your shirt off of your head rather quickly, leaving you in your black lacy push up bra, and he began attacking your neck with lazy kisses and gentle pokes of his tongue. Your left hand made its way to his soft brown hair, firmly gripping at the roots and he let out a guttural moan against your skin, earning a wave of pleasure to shoot straight down to your core.

“Fuck-! Jimin, I need you,” you whined, your right hand running up your side to firmly cup your breast.

“Just wait, kitten,” he murmured, mouth never leaving your neck. The way his tongue managed to send waves of heat over your body in contrast to the ice cold bathroom you made out in gave off an almost surreal experience.

Then, the door opened.

“You guys still-what the fuck?” Jungkook yelled, strutting over to Jimin to yank him off of you. You gasped in shock and scurried to tug your shirt back over your head, hopping off of the counter.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing!?” he scowled, aimed at no one in particular. 

“Fuck..” you heard Jimin mutter, realization finally hitting him.

“Jungkook-” you started, only to get cut off by the fuming boy.

“No, what the fuck is this? Aren’t you with Taehyung?”

“Do-”

“No, I’m fucking telling him this shit. I knew it would happen, but this fucking fast? Jesus Christ, y/n!”

“And you,” Jungkook spat, pointing over at Jimin who held his head in his hands, refusing to meet anybody’s stare. “weren’t you preaching about this shit more than I was? The hell, Jimin?”

“It was a mistake, alright?” Jimin snapped, throwing his hands in the air.

“Tell him Jungkook, I dare you. Go on! But don’t be surprised if a little secret of your own gets spilled along the way.” you crossed your arms, watching as their heads snapped towards you in shock.

“What?” they both mumbled, disbelief written all over their faces.

“You’re literally cheating on Taehyung behind is back, and you think that’s the equivalent to selling drugs?” Jungkook’s voice lowered. 

You felt guilty as soon as the words left your mouth, but there was no backtracking now. You were 100% sure that Jeon Jungkook officially, with his entire being, hated your guts.

You let out a frustrated sigh, gripping at your hair tightly as you thought of what to say.

“Just do whatever the fuck you want, Jungkook. I’m out.”

And with that, you left the party, not sparing the two a final glance as they watched your figure disappear down the stairs.

#Coquette #guys im sorry i finished this later than expected #but this is the chapter where things start to get a bit more angsty!! #jimin x reader #park jimin x reader #bts x reader #park jimin fanfic #jimin fanfic #jimin fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts fanfction #jimin angst #jimin smut #jimin fluff #jimin romance #bts angst #bts smut #bts fluff #bts romance #high school!au #highschool bts #bts au #bts imagines #bts imagine #bts scenario #bts scenarios #park jimin angst