#But I want my long fics to be top-notch quality

[rubberduckyrye]

@w@ I know I'll be thanking myself in the future for it, but fuck is editing the prologue of Twins AU taking forever. There's just....... so so much. Aaaahhhh....

[graciereadshannigram]

Five Star Fics: Hannigram Edition

hey fam, welcome to the inaugural roundup of the best hannigram fics i've read this past month! i read over 60 fics total, and these were the cream of the crop.

the ingredients for a five star rating typically (but not always!!) include some combination of a.) believable characterizations of both Hannibal and Will, b.) compelling plot and/or character arcs, and c.) high quality smut.

that being said, my judgment of the aforementioned ingredients is powered almost exclusively by vibes and as such, is incredibly subjective.

in no particular order, let's go!

~

Title: Veins As Fine As Rabbit Hair Author: lovetincture Word Count: 42,953 Summary: After their fall, the little yellow house Hannibal brings them to is a charmed space. It’s easy to forget there, when Will is in the mood for forgetting. In the Pennsylvanian woods, it’s easy as breathing to ignore the life he left behind. Simple to pretend they’re the last men on earth. Molly and Jack, the murder victims and the FBI seem farther away in the sea of tall, sweet grass—an echo from someone else’s dreams. That’s their life now: Will wants to forget, and Hannibal wants to let him. But reality has a way of asserting itself. No one can ignore it forever.

This was absolutely beautiful. And tender. And sweet. This is probably my favorite post-fall fic. I just get Will and love how they figure out their dynamic together. Definitely hit me right in the gut, but in a very very good way.

Title: Peccavi Author: Yggdrastiles (yoingle) Word Count: 30,067 Summary: After a terrifyingly vivid dream, Will realizes that he's going to need to pick a course of action, and the one he picks no longer involves betraying Hannibal. He knows he'll have to confess because if Hannibal were to discover the original plan on his own, it would tear them apart, and Will's not planning on letting him go anytime soon.

I'm a slut for a well-executed daddy kink, what can I say? Long enough to get really invested in the characters and top-notch smut. Nothing more to say here, folks!

Title: Demonstration Author: HotMolasses Word Count: 11,660 Summary: Will goes to a heat clinic a few days before he is due, to determine whether he wants to use the facility. But then he finds himself blindly following the scent of a delicious Alpha. Before he knows what's happening, he finds himself naked, bound, and gagged on an examination table that is being prepared for a medical demonstration, given by Dr. Lecter to a room full of students on how to properly treat an omega during heat. At first he is mortified, but Dr. Lecter's treatment soon has him enjoying himself to the point of begging for more.

This got five stars purely for the SCORCHING smut. If you're into the omegaverse and also enjoy exhibitionism, you'll enjoy this!

Title: Paragon Author: BloodyWar2411 Word Count: 552,462 Summary: When Hannibal met Will Graham (the man who had, three years prior, been mistaken for the Chesapeake Ripper), he expected amusement. What he got was his first taste of obsession. Dark and bitter in the back of his throat but achingly sweet on the tongue. He knew at once that this feeling, this Man, would consume him. And Hannibal would consume Will right back.

Need I say anything? I still don't have words for how much I loved this fic. The plot was excellent, well-paced, and I loved the characterization of Matthew so much! Bonus points awarded for making me truly understand the appeal of primal play.

Title: Realignment Author: HigherMagic Word Count: 23,120 Summary: Hannibal has a daddy kink. This was easy enough when he was younger - plenty of men were eager to take a pretty-faced, arrogant youth in hand. But as he got older, people started to see him differently, even though his own tastes and kinks never changed. He started to attract men who expected him to take the lead, and it just felt awkward to try and broach the subject. Then he met Will Graham.

As I said, I can't resist a well-executed daddy kink, but I was surprised to find out how much I enjoyed Hannibal calling Will daddy.

Title: Mark Me Not A Savage Author: KatherineKrawl Word Count: 401,953 Summary: When Will opens Hannibal's letter, it wakes something primal locked inside of him. He doesn't understand it, but what he does know is that he has to go to Baltimore hospital for the criminally insane, and he has to go now. Dear Will. He could still see the words, written in the curly elegance of Hannibal's hand, burning behind his eyelids. He breathed deeply through his nose to try and calm the unsteady flutter of his heart. A deep breath. One that clawed at his nose, one that penetrated his nostrils like a liquid, a smothering sting he felt intruding behind his eyes. One. Deep. Breath. And then it took him.

An INCREDIBLE omegaverse fic that convinced me hannigram was made for ABO dynamics. Not only was the smut incredible, but the author brilliantly incorporated their canonical mind melding and retooled it for the omegaverse. I think I also set a new reading record by reading this in under 48 hours.

Title: Kindling Author: gleamingandwholeanddeadly (something_safe) Word Count: 10,281 Summary: “You should take a date to your fundraiser." “Yes, perhaps you’re right. It would be improper to invite someone under false pretence, mind, and for my patient to understand, the evidence would need to be… compelling.” “Perhaps an ex-girlfriend,” Will says, unsure why the thought makes him feel flat and remote. “That would be incredibly inappropriate.” “A friend then. Someone you can explain the problem to. You could take-” “You,” Hannibal interjects. The words belly-flop into silence. Will’s mouth opens, and then closes, and then opens again. When Franklyn's advances of friendship become too much for even Hannibal to politely ignore, he enlists Will's help.

Another favorite trope: fake dating. This fic just had me giggling and smiling the entire time and I loved it. I feel moderately bad for Franklyn as a character and yet... I love when Hannibal and Will flaunt their relationship in front of him. Sue me.

Title: Nothing For It... Author: phenobarbital Word Count: 11,360 Summary: ...not thinking to consult Hannibal on the matter, Will went ahead with venting his anger and he thudded the headboard against the wall again, before pressing his lips together and letting out a loud humming moan, which he trailed off into an ‘aaah’ sound as he parted his lips. He didn’t even glance behind him, totally missing the startled and intrigued look on Hannibal’s face as he made another humming moan and thudded the headboard lightly again.

GOOD GRIEF. This fic left me UNWELL. In the best possible way. We love making homophobes uncomfortable, and if it leads to accidentally having sex? Oh noooo. Also, Beverly makes an appearance at the very end and she's great. Love her.

Title: Transcendent Suffering Author: itsbeautiful Word Count: 484,659 Summary: Blue eyes closed suddenly against Hannibal’s searching gaze, sucking in a breath, body going rigid. “You can’t say things like that to me, Hannibal. You cannot glorify the dark impulses inside of me and call them… beautiful.” Will stared up at the ceiling, head thrown back as if struggling to breathe, fragile and bending against the sound of his voice. “You can’t. You just can’t say them.” “Only the celestial moon and I have truly seen you bathed in blood, savoring the darkness, embracing your becoming, and I can assure you it was truly breathtaking.”

I can't remember the last time I read a fic that was as deeply gut-wrenching as this one. I cried. Multiple times. If you like incredibly well done, character-driven stories, this is IT. And the author also wrote some of the most romantic stuff I've ever read, ever. I will be processing this fic for the foreseeable future.

Title: Love Is What You Make It – A two part series! Author: orphaned on ao3 Word Count: 181,771 (both parts combined) Summary: Will and Hannibal make their way to Hannibal's safe house in New Hampshire a couple days after their plunge off the cliff and plot their next move, Will coming to terms with the fact that he is committed to it this time.

A twofer!! And oh my god this was TENDER. I am a sucker for fics that really explore Will and Hannibal's emotional journey post-fall and I think this did an incredible job of realistically portraying that, while still being indulgent. The first fic is very character-driven, and the second part is more plot-heavy. Both are so good! I found myself actively taking breaks just to make it last longer.

And lastly, the honorable mention(s)!

Title: Hannigram: Cuts Unscene -- Season 1 Author: DBMars Word Count: 71,097 Summary: Cuts Unscene is a Hannigram fanfiction challenge – to write one scene for each episode of the series where Will and Hannibal have some kind of intimate interaction that builds their romantic connection. These stories operate on the concept that they were scenes cut from the original episodes, and the attempt is to make them fit into the plot in ways that are as plausible as possible while still having a good ol’ time writing them. The devil is in the details!

Okay WOW, this is the first of four (one per season, and then an imagined season 4), and I am so deeply impressed with how the author made these truly feel like cut scenes from the actual show. The only reason I'm not giving a full five stars is because I want to actually rewatch a couple episodes and pause to read some of the cut scenes to really assess how well they fit into the overall plot. I'll hopefully have an update on this at some point in the future!

~

And that's all she wrote, folks! Feel free to let me know what y'all are reading and what I should read next :)

[fuckyeahgoodomensfanfic]

Good Omens Fic Rec: Time Marches Forward

Our story follows Aziraphale as he toils alone in Heaven to thwart the Second Coming while Crowley, back on Earth, encounters a powerful and frightened 15-year-old Adam Young in desperate need of guidance. One of the infinite possibilities for how the Good Omens story can end. With some twists, and some angst, and lots of character development.

Length: 128,201 words

AO3 Rating: Mature

Best for: Safe in Public, Slight Angst, Post S2

Triggers: Temporary Character Death (kind of)

Read it here, fic by Bellisima_writes

*Minor Spoilers* I need everyone to read this story and marvel at the fact that this is the author's first fic! I am astounded by the quality of this story. It's cinematic, clever, and creative. It constructs a world that fits seamlessly into the canon while introducing its own truly interesting concepts. If you're looking for a Season Three "what if", this is a must-read!

Our story starts immediately after the Final 15. Aziraphale arrives in Heaven and already things are suspicious. I really love that this story goes with the route of taking things mostly at face value. It's not until the Second Coming line that Aziraphale truly kicks into gear, fully understanding the threat he's under. Crowley meanwhile finds himself in Tadfield, where a 15 year old Adam Young is in desperate need of some guidance. I won't spoil the plot; it's best experienced as it unfolds. This is a long story, but the pacing and plotting are brilliant, the time will fly by so easily. I read way past the time I was supposed to stop without even realizing it!

The characterizations are all excellent here. Adam in particular is one of the best uses I've seen with him. There is a character introduced that he will parallel with beautifully. Both placed into positions they did not ask for, tasked with things they do not want, and burdened with unbearable responsibility. It was a really insightful bit of characterization, and made me look at that "new" character in a way I never have before. Adam's new relationship with Crowley was such a beautiful and heartwarming plotline. He needed Crowley in his life, to help guide him, to understand his powers, and how he fits into the world. Crowley needed him just as much.

Crowley and Aziraphale's characterizations are top notch as well. It was effortless to read this in their voices, and just be prepared for this story's 1941...ouch. Actually a lot of what Aziraphale went through here broke my heart. This story creates a phenomenon called, "The Void." It's as ominous as it sounds, and puts Aziraphale through the ringer. As much as it hurt, it was also a really interesting concept. I'm so relived that Aziraphale will be taken care of now.

Seriously, what an excellent story this was. This is a more action based plot, and every twist and turn kept me right on my toes. Safe in public, and while there's some hints of angst, it's not a heavy story. If this is what a first fic can be, I can't wait to read this author's second!

Read it here, fic by Bellisima_writes

[osarina]

I didn't want to comment my reply again on the civilian dazai fic but OMG FYO IT WAS REALLY GOOD

I will say it deffo felt much light hearted and had a friday fellthan waterloo and even wykyk but I think that's cause the ✨️drama✨️ btwn them hadn't started yet and also the fact that I know they aren't doomed by the narrative (you) this time 💀

But I am liking the way it is going it already has me hooked and I am so very excited 😊 and God damn I LOVE love the reader so much. She's much more badass and ahhhh dazai is so cute and pathetic I lub him <3

Also fun fact after my 3 hour exam and after 2 sleepless nights, I did the exam well and came rushing home and held myself to read this awesomeness before sleeping for like 8 hours straight. When I woke up I read it again not in a sleepy haze to get the full experience XD that's how much I love your quality top notch fics

I think the reader's ability is a great and beautiful choice. It's not overpowering to change the plot or invite plot holes but powerful enough to impact everyday life. It really keeps me asking if the reader is using her ability on a certain situation or not and I really love that feature.

Anyways hope your life is going well 😊 and dont forget to eat healthily

P.s. : Do you have a fixed schedule to upload wasteland like waterloo or is it not fixed? And sorry for making the asks so long 😅

TUMBLR USER SILVERSNOW2000 HELLO MY LOVE I ADORE YOU, YOU NEVER HAVE TO APOLOGIZE FOR SENDING LONG ASKS I LOVE THEM

AHHHHHH I'M SO GLAD U ENJOYED IT ive had soooooo much fun writing civzai and pmreader. IT'S DEFINITELY MUCH MORE LIGHTHEARTED THAN ANY OF THE OTHER SERIES SO FAR but don't worry the drama starts in the next chapter LOLLLL and it doesn't slow down from there. THEY DON'T DIE THO i feel like i have to say this every time LOLLLLL

YESSSSS PM READER IS SO FUN TO WRITE like she's alwaysssss fun to write but it's particularly fun being able to write her from the viewpoint of dazai as a civilian who isn't like used to seeing her already. like she's very similar in the original universe but dazai has known her for so long there that he's become used to her yk, meanwhile this dazai sees her in a very fresh light if u get what i mean. it's the change in perspective that's so fun to write here

AND OMG IM GLAD - i was so conflicted about how to phrase/what to make her ability because i didn't want to make it too op but at the same time .. she's a port mafia executive, she needs to have a pretty notable ability, and then i was like wait ... her whole thing is politics and negotiations, so obviously it has to be something along the lines of fucking with ppl's minds/brains, but i needed to obviously whittle that down because mind control is just too ridiculous, so i got the idea of her being able to like induce emotions + states onto people BUT they're able to draw themselves out of it if they have the strength for it.

some things are easier to brush off, but other things aren't. like she can put people to sleep with her ability and they can't really drag themselves out of that because now they're sleeping, and inducing fear in particular is pretty hard for people to draw themselves out of because it spirals quickly. but for negotiations and stuff, when she's making them feel as if she's more trustworthy/more susceptible to taking bad terms, she has to be SO careful & calculated with her every word because any small thing could make them double take and jar them out of the induced state.

actually, in civzai universe, it's going to be really interesting because without dazai there to stop chuuya from using corruption, reader and chuuya had to figure out a way to knock him out of it themselves - which they DID and it involves her ability but it's SOOOO dangerous for her so they end up not really using corruption often. this actually comes up in the next chapter

i dont have a set schedule! i'm going to shoot for every other friday max though!

[asecretvice]

hi 👋 fully and deeply entranced by “and this, your living kiss,” i’ve read it a few times at this point. i was curious about the dennis brutus poem that dean quotes in cas’ office. do you know where one can read the whole thing? my scouring of his work online has turned up nothing! it’s the untitled [the sand wet and cool] one

Actual footage of me reading this ask:

Like, you have asked me about Dennis Brutus! Thank you!! Feel free to ask more!

But to answer your question, I know several years ago I was able to finagle it on google books when I didn't have access to Poetry & Protest: A Dennis Brutus Reader. But why fuss with that when I can just copy it out here for you myself straight from that book? I highly, HIGHLY recommend reading it out loud, as the sonic qualities are top-notch! Forewarning of dark themes. Without further ado:

The sand wet and cool darkening from yellow to where it was damp, from a lioness-yellow to darkness, like ash or the shadowy underside of a mushroom

and to lounge in such sand, by the sea, uncaring scuffing bare heels in the seasand with the hard ridge of the heel, half-calloused, half-feeling the cold cool in warmgold folds, over silkchill skeins

and here to thrust out the legs to feel the jar in thighflesh and flanks and through this breakthrough of thighs to find true fuller freedom of loins and thews a great freedom of the groin— an unfolding upflowering of the flesh—

hair uncaring of sand, of shellpowder broken twigs and dirt; and to feel the keening of the cold the ghost of the spray, the spume, the salt— a cold glitter as of crystals and knives in the brightness and vagrant warmth of the day:

one assents to the brightness of the day, its perfection and warmth acquiescing in the cold in its essence sharp as a shell-blade and menacing while the shadows grow long and gray and cold, one accepts the voluptuous splendor of that day

of an imaginary day and of an untrue innocent idyll that never happened and a perfection of sensuality we never knew but which they created by report by alleging this was our act and our guilt:

and straightway by the evocation of their charge it was real and true; and we entered into that sensual idyll that sunlit sensuous voluptuousness of luxurious indulgence in lush-ripe flesh:

we were guilty then accepting the untrue as the real; so our pursuers, our enemies became our donors, generous friends: one perfect sunlit day was ours: the forbidden idyll became the real: we had our beach, our sea, our sun, the stolen sensuous carnal delight and the spray-bright, spume-chill, bladed air.

[Dated January 19, 1970; published 1973.]

Though you didn't ask, I will copy out the other Dennis Brutus poem mentioned, in case people are curious about that one as well:

Milkblue—tender the moonlit midnight sky; receive me now my sleeping love. Lovelaughter—gentle, a luminous glow arches from circling horizoning hills to this plain your tremulous breast exposes:

So, gentle and tender I brood and bow over your scent, your hid springs of mirth and know here in this dusk, secret and still I can bend and kiss you now, my earth.

[1970]

I will stop there since this fulfills your brief, but seriously...if anyone wants to actually talk about this stuff, or have me go off on a related subject...my inbox is open. (people like and/or reblog the post with all the footnotes and sources and whatnot, but no one ever asks about anything in it...please...)

PS—Absolutely thrilled you enjoy my fic! To hear you've read it multiple times is just incredible. Thank you <3 I hope you enjoy the poetry!

[megamindsupremacy]

Do you have any Spiderman fic recs? (Preferably not MCU but. I'm not picky)

YES ofc. Let me dig through my bookmarks for some. Warning- most of them will be Team Red fics because that’s where I interacted most with the Marvel fandom back in the day. Also, coming back after making this, unfortunately most are at least a little bit MCU influenced but I tried to stay away from the tropier/irondad/ooc fics

-

Inimitable by deniigiq

“Peter, is it supposed to be doing that?” One of his students asked him. He looked up to see the industrial-strength magnets he’d collected for this lab trying to crack through the glass between them to be reunited. The glass splintered.

“Yeah, no. That’s totally fine,” he lied. Then he inconspicuously chased everyone to the corner of the lab, donned a glove, and smashed the glass so that it wouldn’t splinter and stab someone in the eye in its explosion.

His students cheered.

He needed a drink.

(Peter gets called back to the city at the age of 25 to help mitigate the rapidly increasing crime rate. He's in way over his head, so he sets out to re-establish Team Red.)

(Classic Team Red fic, this author got me into the fandom years ago and I’ve been stuck since)

-

Say You Will, Say You Won’t by Traincat

Johnny Storm found him on a Friday afternoon, wearing the kind of beseeching look that filled Peter with dread.

“I need to ask you a favor,” he said.

“No,” Peter said, swinging away.

__

Peter and Johnny get married, really-not-really.

(A classic Spidertorch fic, absolutely hilarious and not even a little bit MCU-touched)

-

Peter Parker: Legend of Empire State by Popjeckdoom

There was a dorm room, at the end of the third floor hallway on the male side of student housing, that was a mystery to all the students of Empire State. #339, Peter Parker.

The dorm itself wasn’t strange. It wasn’t haunted or cursed in any way, or as far as anyone knew. The door looked like everyone else’s; a doodle of Spidey on the whiteboard, a random scratch at the bottom left corner of the door, likely from someone moving in, etc. What made this ordinary room into a legend was it’s mysterious inhabitant, whom many believed did not even exist.

Peter Parker. The Criptid of Empire State.

(Technically incomplete, but it’s a series of oneshots so do with that what you will)

-

Dumpster Fires Verse by deniigiq

Peter and May receive a notice to vacate.

The other guys on Team Red have been there before, they offer a bit of advice.

(Another deniigiq classic, it’s a series of interconnected fics that don’t need to be read together to make sense)

-

Can you hear the drumming? (there’s a revolution coming) by Crescent_Blues

"You know how to throw a punch?"

Peter stops fidgeting and his heartbeat slows as he breathes deep and forces it to calm. The endorphins aren't quite there yet but he can almost taste the excitement, the hopefulness. Like carmel, like yellow, like tacky sweetness.

"Don't tuck your thumb into your hand and keep your wrist and arm straight?"

He has the basics.

That's a good start.

Right?

(Matt accidentally acquires one Peter Parker at the ripe old age of eleven and becomes the mentor he never wanted to be)

(This one comes courtesy of my friend Moon, who will kill me if he knew I was reccing his fic, but the writing style and quality is top notch so I refuse to stop. Also incomplete, but there’s 160k words before you get to the end so there’s a lot to read)

-

Peter Parker’s Home for the Wayward Villain by BeanieBaby

A really long redemption story.

(Another classic, Peter buys a house and adopts+reforms like 90% of the Marvel villains)

-

Roundabout by Gruoch

“Are you being killed right now?” Tony asks. “Am I listening to your final moments?”

“Maybe,” Peter chokes out, weakly pedaling his legs in the air while he futilely scrambles to pry the hand away from his throat.

Tony releases a sharp huff, irritated. “You are absolutely not allowed to die right now. Your graduation is a month away. Pepper’s moved around all her meetings to be free that day, and I’ve already given the deposit to the catering company for your party. I can’t get it back if I have to cancel now because of your untimely demise.”

***

In which Peter attempts to survive long enough to graduate, Tony moonlights as a semi-professional party planner, and absolutely nothing goes according to plan.

(This one is just. Peter Parker’s terrible horrible no good very bad day but in the best way)

-

Spider Season by selador

Peter Parker is Ben Urich's intern at the Bulletin. He's alright, as far as interns go. Bad coffee, but he fights crime bosses who want Ben dead. That wins a lot of points with Ben, that's for sure.

(Mostly follows the plot of DD s1 but still a great fic)

-

WHAT sugar daddy(s)??? By o1nm

"I've never really thought about it," Peter sniffs, gazing sadly into his mostly empty cup. "Maybe uh... maybe somebody who buys me milkshakes whenever I want? I don't know."

MJ's eyebrows twitch minutely. "Really?"

"Yup," Peter says lightly, "really," despite the fact that he feels like he just signed some sort of demonic treaty. "Hey, do you think we could circle back and -"

"I'll go get you another," MJ tells him as she snatches his previous milkshake, dropping it in a trashcan on her way as she sashays back to the ice-cream store.

...Weird.

(*slaps roof of Peter* this boi can fit so much autism in him. But honestly he’s so oblivious throughout, it’s amazing)

-

Always Glad You Came by aloneintherain

Spider-Man is a relatively new, controversial vigilante, and Johnny has a crush the size of the Empire Building. The Four - operating under the assumption that Spidey is an adult - do not approve.

“I just happen to think Spider-Man's cool,” Johnny says, matter-of-factly. “A hero can think another hero is cool without making it weird. I admire his aloofness. And his badass-ness.”

“His aloofness,” Ben repeats, chuckling into his mug of beer. It’s roughly the size of Johnny’s head. “Yeah, sure, I bet that’s all your admire, right?”

(Another Spideytorch classic, with So Many Misunderstandings it’s amazing they can walk straight)

[loki-cees-all]

This build-up was...intense. But it was slow, like a much-needed stretch to finally get that tight muscle to pop. Well-earned, I think is a good word for it. It's difficult to do a slow burn in a one-shot but fuck if you didn't nail it, Cleo!!

And for someone who occasionally has to work 14+ (very stressful) days in a row, it's such a shame that it took me so long to read a fic where TVA Loki - my husband, my lover, my #1 bestest boy - is telling me that I need to take a break because if I'm that tired, I wouldn't be able to get any good quality work done anyways 🤡

The banter here is top notch. Low stakes, but high intensity. I love Loki's breakfast choices, his coffee choices, his commentary on romantic Asgardian literature - Loki is through and through a hater, and I do love to see it. Keep telling me your grumpy old opinions, grumpy old man! <3

But then I got to the smut.

^ my live reaction

This was so good I want to commit arson. I need to create real-world consequences as a punishment to the real world for me not actually being the reader in this story.

The intensity of his gaze makes you shiver again. He crouches down and presses another kiss against the inside of your knee, slowly moving upward. “If you keep talking like that, I’m not going to let you leave my bed for days.” “You know that’s not a disincentive, right?” you say, sucking in a sharp breath as he nips at the soft skin of your inner thigh. “I’ve wanted you for such a long time, Loki.” “I’ll make it weeks if you’re not careful.”

Can I just. How did you. I mean it's just. How. HOW?!

10/10 please do it again <3

Overtime

Summary: Sometimes, working overtime isn’t all that bad.

Pairings: Loki x Female Reader

Warnings: Smut, 18+ minors DNI, sex, cunnilingus, teasing, light bondage, office romance.

Series: Overtime (I don't have a masterlist for this, but if you enjoy these idiots, check out Daylight, a sort of sequel).

A/N: This was largely written prior to season 2 and posted right before episode 4, so it’s not entirely canon compliant and the parts that are may be compliant by accident.

Also, @give-me-a-moose and I were on a similar wavelength about Loki angrily reading romance novels and I would strongly recommend checking out her fic The Imagine Nation if you too are enthralled by this idea.

You don’t think that Mobius intended to keep Loki’s desk behind yours.

“It’s temporary,” he tells you apologetically. “He just needs somewhere to go for now, until I figure out what to do with him.”

“You’re talking about him like he’s a stray cat that you found,” you say.

“You won’t even know he’s there, I promise.”

“You’re still doing it.”

Mobius sighs and puts on his most sincere, earnest expression—the one that he always uses when he’s about to ask you for a stupidly massive favor.

And it’s only because you almost never, ever see this look from him that you back down.

“Okay, fine,” you say. “But he’d better be on his best behavior.”

Mobius puts his palms together and tips them toward you. “Thank you. You will not regret this, I promise.”

You sigh and shake your head. “Just remember this next time you’re budgeting for raises.”

But then—in a move that you certainly don’t expect—Loki ends up sticking around. And, in the subtle way that the stray you’ve been feeding slowly turns into your cat, Loki’s temporary desk becomes his permanent desk. And strangely enough, Mobius’ assurances turn out to be more correct than not: Loki does a lot of fieldwork and is often away; when he is at his desk, it tends to be because he is working on more complicated missions, the ones that require poring over mountains of files looking for patterns and trying to untangle the slippery mess of time itself.

Your work is decidedly less glamorous than Loki’s—almost no fieldwork, lots of files. Endless files. Some days you feel as though you must have seen every file in the TVA’s extensive library and then you’re immediately proven wrong by another wing of filing cabinets that you swear wasn’t even there before.

Although he is generally well-behaved as your desk neighbor, Loki’s presence has a way of distracting you. Even if you didn’t know who he was, your gaze would still naturally drift his way, lingering on those regal cheekbones, that ink black hair, that cunning smirk. The way that the fabric of his dress pants clings to his thighs certainly doesn’t help, to say nothing of how his forearms look with his shirtsleeves rolled up. He can make your heart start to race with no more than a casual glance in your direction and god help you if he gives you one of those devastating smiles. Luckily, you don’t think he takes that much notice of you. You have the sort of pleasantly dull exchanges of coworkers who don’t really know each other and he is almost painfully polite to you. It’s a strong departure from the way he interacts with others—with others, he is bold, charming, sarcastic, talkative, a far cry from the more subdued, almost courtly tone he strikes with you. It’s a difference that is so stark that you can’t help but attribute it to some sort of negative feeling on his end.

“How’s it going with Loki?” Mobius asks you during a one-on-one meeting a couple of months after Loki’s temporary desk becomes his permanent desk. “He’s behaving himself, right?”

“It’s been fine,” you say, “though truthfully, I don’t think he likes me all that much.”

“What? Of course he likes you,” Mobius says. “Why wouldn’t he like you? You’re lovely.”

You shrug. “I dunno, he’s just different with me than he is with everyone else. Like…overly polite. It’s like he thinks I’m going to send him to the principal’s office or something.”

“Let me get this straight,” says Mobius. “First you were worried that he wouldn’t behave himself and now you’re worried that he’s too well-behaved?”

Privately, you realize he has a point. Outwardly, though, you’re not going to admit it. The sardonic tilt of Mobius’ mouth suggests that he knows this.

“No, I just��I don’t think he likes me all that much,” you say. “And he’s entitled to that. People don’t like each other all the time, it’s not a big deal.”

This is also a little bit of a lie—you do wish he liked you. Loki is so magnetic it’s hard not to want his attention. And with the matter of your silly little crush, well…that doesn’t help either.

Mobius sighs. “I think you’re overthinking this. He likes you, sometimes it just takes him a little time to warm up. He’s a bit of a prickly guy.”

You bite down the urge to point out that you’ve seen him warm to other people almost immediately. This conversation has already gone on longer than you want and you are edging dangerously close to having to admit that you care so much because you have a big stupid crush on him, which is obviously unacceptable.

“Well, the point is that it’s fine,” you say quickly, trying to project an aura of cool confidence. “I don’t have any complaints, he seems like he’s settling in, so let’s move on. Did you have any feedback on my recent report?”

The furrow between Mobius’ eyebrows deepens just slightly, the only indication that he doesn’t fully believe you. But for whatever reason, he decides to let it go and follows your change in topic without further comment.

This is one of the reasons you like Mobius as much as you do: he always seems to know the right moment to push and the right moment to bend.

You’re not sure if your relationship with Loki would have changed had it not been for the problem of Charles Berlitz.

The joke around the office is that after Mobius convinced Loki to work for the TVA, he needed something new to obsess over and Charles Berlitz was the next best option. It’s hard to say exactly who Berlitz is, as he has a tendency of showing up, well…everywhere. He is quite literally in every timeline, at least as far as anyone can tell. Sometimes he is an author, penning serious, scholarly essays on outlandish theories like the Bermuda Triangle and the Philadelphia Experiment. He seems to have a fondness for all manner of schemes—he was responsible for introducing both homeopathy and multi-level marketing to no fewer than sixty different timelines. His ability to peddle bullshit naturally led him to politics—pick any rebellion, coup, or campaign on any given timeline and there’s a good chance you’ll also find Charles Berlitz.

Scammers and con artists are not atypical in your line of work, but what makes Charles Berlitz an enduring mystery is that he has never been found. You can have reputable documentary evidence that Berlitz was present at a certain time and location, but if you show up to investigate, he is never there. There have been some glimpses over the years—a shadowy face in the back of a crowd, the hem of a cloak disappearing behind a corner—but nothing concrete or substantive.

“Our ghost in the timeline,” Mobius had said in one of his more poetic moments at an all staff meeting, his voice overly hushed and dramatic. You had seen Loki roll his eyes and you had to fake a coughing fit to hide your laugh.

Time moves differently at the TVA, so it’s hard to say how long Mobius has been working on this case when he makes a breakthrough, but it’s not terribly long after your conversation about Loki. A campaign button had been found in an apartment that Berlitz rented for two years in the French Quarter. That particular campaign button could only have existed in one specific timeline and its distribution was limited. You aren’t entirely clear on all of the details, but Mobius seems to have a plan.

And unfortunately, that plan involves you giving up most of your weekend to work.

It’s near quitting time on what passes for a Friday at the TVA. Loki has been in today and you can hear him starting to pack up. Technically, he’s got twenty minutes of work left, but you’re not about to tell him that.

You doodle absently on your notepad. Technically, you’ve also got twenty minutes of work left, but realistically: nothing is happening.

“Oh, great, you’re both still here.”

In general, this phrase has never meant good news for you and when you look up, you see Mobius with a sizable armful of files.

Also not a great sign.

Mobius plunks the stack of files directly on your desk. “There’s been a development with Berlitz. I need you both to review these now.”

“It’s Friday,” says Loki, affronted. “Surely it can wait until Monday.”

“No can do. I need this done by Sunday at the latest,” says Mobius. “This is an all hands on deck situation.”

Loki glances pointedly at the office around you, which has already started emptying out for the weekend.

“All hands on deck, but most hands are already in the field,” Mobius concedes. “Which is why I need the two of you—” He points to you. “You because you’re good—” He gestures to Loki. “And you because you’ve got desk duty.”

“I beg your pardon—” begins Loki.

“He’s grounded,” Mobius says to you in an exaggerated stage whisper.

This is not surprising to you: you had heard a rumor last week about an incident that had occurred on a mission to the inauguration of Richard Nixon and you suspect that these two events are likely connected.

You look at the pile of paperwork on your desk. You could probably get through it on your own in a couple of hours, but if Loki’s helping, maybe you still have a shot at having Saturday to yourself. You bite back a sigh. “What do you need me to find?”

“Anything that mentions anyone from the Lucchese crime family or Nero Variant N2815,” says Mobius. “I’ll go get the rest.”

Your heart sinks. Farewell, Saturday. “There’s more?” you say.

“It’ll be triple overtime, I already got it approved!” he calls over his shoulder

You sigh and glance at Loki who is scowling at the pile of files as though they’d wronged him personally.

There’s a long moment of silence before you speak. “Is there any truth to the rumor I’ve been hearing about the Nixon inauguration?” you ask.

“If it involved a hot air balloon, then yes,” he says rather tonelessly.

“Well.” You pause as you stare at the pile of papers. “At least it was worth it.”

That at least earns you a hint of a smile.

*

Several hours later, your stomach is growling and you’ve developed a rather impressive crick in your neck.

You lean back in your chair, stretching your neck to the side and rubbing the knot that is pulsing in your upper trapezius. Office work has done nothing positive for your posture in general, but tonight’s work has you hunched over more than usual and your neck is aching.

You and Loki have made good progress, but your pile of finished and sorted files is scarcely comparable to the full cart that Mobius had brought in. Back when the evening was new and you weren’t quite so tired, you’d been optimistic about possibly having half a Saturday free from work; that hope has slipped away the longer the evening has dragged on. Now you’re hoping that you’ll still have a bit of Sunday to yourself and even that feels unlikely.

Your stomach growls again. You should probably eat something—you’d worked through your regular dinner hour in a fit of misplaced optimism. The cafeteria is closed this time of night, but there’s a vending machine not far from your office that has shitty coffee and mostly edible sandwiches.

You stand and stretch, stifling a yawn as you turn around. “I’m gonna grab a coffee and some dinner,” you say. “Do you want anything?”

Loki looks up at you from the file in front of him, blinking somewhat dazedly and running a hand through his messy curls. “I’d like to stretch my legs a bit, if you don’t mind the company.”

You honestly didn’t expect him to want to join you. It’s a pleasant surprise, certainly, but also a little nerve wracking in the way that interacting with Loki always is. He’s so handsome and aloof and you’re not quite sure how to talk to him without acting like a total fool.

But you’re also not about to say no, either.

“Of course,” you say, “I don’t mind at all.”

The TVA is unusually quiet at this time of night—the steady hum of fluorescent lights and the murmur of distant voices is all that accompanies the tap of your shoes on the linoleum. It only heightens the jittery, nervous feeling you get from Loki—like your stomach is filled with drunk, lightning struck butterflies.

“Are you finding much?” asks Loki as you enter the hallway together.

You shrug. “A bit. Mostly on the Nero variant. I’m not having as much luck with the Luccheses.”

“I’ve got all of their property transfers, I think,” he says. “Renato Lucchese never met a vineyard he didn’t like.”

“Or racehorses, from what I understand,” you say. “I think that’s how he lost most of his money.”

You arrive at the vending machines. Loki looks at the vending machines and then back at you, a somewhat puzzled and troubled expression on his face.

“This is what you meant when you said you were going to get coffee and dinner?”  he says.

You shrug. “Yeah, what’s wrong with this?”

He points at the coffee machine. “Mobius calls that machine Satan’s coffeemaker, does he not?”

“Yes, but I know how to trick it into giving me something that’s almost palatable,” you say.

Loki gives you a rather dry look. “Something that’s almost palatable?”

“I mean, I’m just trying to manage your expectations. It’s still pretty shitty coffee, it just tastes less burned.”

He looks at you for a long moment before tilting his head toward the hallway. “Come on, let’s go.”

It’s your turn to look skeptical. “What are we doing?”

“We’re going out for dinner.”

*

He takes you to a twenty-four hour diner called Frank’s that’s maybe a five minute walk from the TVA. It’s one of those places with yellowing Formica tables and big booths covered in red faux leather patched with the occasional square of duct tape. It smells like coffee and grease with a faint odor of cigarette smoke despite the prominent no smoking signs.

“I wouldn’t have thought this kind of place was your style,” you say as you sit down in a booth next to the window.

“I’ve expanded my horizons,” he says, sliding into the seat across from you.

An older woman with greying blonde hair approaches your booth. She wears a nametag reading “Connie” in big capital letters, a sticker of a pink cat stuck on the space next to her name.

“How y’all doin’ tonight?” she says as she hands you each a laminated menu. She looks at Loki. “You want your usual?”

“Please,” he says.

“You got it.” She turns to you. “How ‘bout you, hon, can I get ya started with something to drink?”

“Coffee would be great.”

“All right, I’ll be right back with your drinks.”

You raise your eyebrows at Loki as she walks away. “You eat at diners and you have a usual order. My expectations are being completely upended.”

He returns your pleasantly amused expression. “And you have vending machine coffee for dinner. It’s a revealing night.”

“I mean, I don’t actively seek it out,” you say. “It’s a convenient option that I exercise only when I have no other choice.”

“No other choice?” A sly smile curls at his lips. “Do you not have the entire array of space and time at your fingertips?”

“Well, first of all, we aren’t supposed to use TemPads for personal errands without a supervisor’s approval.”

“Technically.”

“No, actually. It’s in the personnel manual. Like verbatim.”

He raises an eyebrow. “You would put yourself through the egregious physical suffering of vending machine coffee simply to appease the capricious whims of our cruel overseer Miss Minutes?”

You bite back a laugh. “You know she’s not actually our boss, right?”

“I can’t discount that possibility. She wields a concerning amount of power within the organization.”

Connie is back with your drinks—coffee for you and tea for Loki. “Sunday Special?” she asks Loki as she sets a metal teapot and empty mug in front of him.

“Please,” he says.

“You got it.” She looks at you. “Didya get a chance to look at the menu or do you need a minute?”

You’re feeling a little daring. “I’ll try the Sunday Special as well.”

“All right, two Sunday Specials comin’ right up,” she says, collecting your menus.

“So, what’s in a Sunday Special?” you ask Loki as you take a sip of your coffee.

“Boiled fish eggs, mainly,” he says, pouring the hot water into his tea mug.

“Liar,” you say promptly.

He raises an eyebrow. “You didn’t even look at the menu, how could you know?”

“Places like this don’t serve fish eggs,” you say. “Way too unusual and definitely the wrong price point.”

“I suppose you’ll just have to see,” he says with a playful glint in his eyes. The easy charm that you’ve seen him use with the others is on full display and it’s enough to make you giddy. Maybe he doesn’t dislike you after all.

“Well, if it’s fish eggs, you’re picking up the bill,” you say, “and I’ll be getting something else instead.”

“You’d really hold me responsible for your impulsive dinner selections?”

“Yep. And I don’t even feel bad about it.”

He raises an eyebrow. “I didn’t realize you could be so unforgiving.”

“Well, you don’t know me all that well.”

“To be fair, you keep to yourself quite a bit.”

“A little bit,” you say. “But also to be fair, you haven’t really asked.”

“On work time?” he says, widening his eyes in mock horror. “That would mean write ups for both of us, I couldn’t let that happen.”

“I think I know enough about you to know that getting in trouble is not one of your primary concerns.”

He gives you a sly smile, like you’ve caught him out and he likes it. “That’s a diplomatic way to put it.” He takes a sugar packet from the dispenser on the table and tears it open before pouring it into his mug. “Well, we’re on break now, so you can safely tell me something about yourself.”

You drum your fingers on your coffee mug. “What do you want to know?”

“Well, this can’t be the only part of your life. Who are you outside the TVA? What did you do before this?”

That giddy feeling comes to a screeching halt and you take in a long, slow breath. It’s a simple question, one that most people can answer to some degree. For you, though, it’s a bit more complicated.

“Well,” you say. You take a sip of your coffee, mostly to give your hands something to do. “I don’t actually know—I chose not to remember when they gave me the option.”

You’re surprised by how gentle his eyes are when you look up. “My apologies,” he says, “I didn’t realize.”

“It’s okay,” you say and you really do mean it. “You couldn’t have known.”

Usually, you say something like this and then gently redirect the conversation, but something about the way he’s looking at you makes you want to continue. Like maybe he understands difficult things and doesn’t mind hearing about something that others would shy away from.

“When they told us everything and said they could fix our memories…” You clear your throat and focus your gaze just above his shoulder. “It’s weird, but I just had a feeling that it wouldn’t be good for me to know…that something really bad had happened. So I asked Mobius to check for me, just to be sure…” You swallow, blinking hard.

You remember how sad Mobius’ eyes were, how he’d gently placed a hand on your shoulder and said, “I think you’re making the right call, kid.”

“It’s not really okay, is it?” Loki says softly.

You shrug. “I mean, it’s…it is what it is.”

“You’re a terrible liar, you know.”

“It’s not a lie—”

He raises a skeptical eyebrow and you remember that he is, in fact, the god of lies.

“It’s more like…I can’t really miss what I don’t know, but at the same time, the reality of that absence hurts a little. So maybe not exactly okay, but not exactly not okay, either.”

There’s a lot of kindness in his gaze and you have to look away because it makes your head spin and your breath catch in your throat. “I’m not really sure if that makes sense,” you say.

“It does.”

There’s a silence between you, but it’s not uncomfortable.

“Do you…do you think you’d want to forget if you had that option?” You’re not entirely sure what prompts the question and you regret it almost as soon as it leaves your mouth. “I’m sorry, that’s probably too personal.”

He shakes his head and there’s a warmth in his eyes that you don’t expect. “I rather think I owe you one.” He pauses, running a finger around the rim of his mug. “Sometimes I do,” he says finally. “It can be quite painful remembering.” He worries his lip between his teeth. “But I’m not sure who I would be without the knowledge of my past, either.” His gaze flicks back to you. “What’s it like for you? Do you feel like you know who you are without those memories?”

It’s a good question—one you’ve never been asked. “I mean, it’s hard to say for sure. I think I do,” you say. “Sometimes I wonder if I was different in my timeline. Maybe I was kinder because I had different experiences that made me more empathetic. Maybe I wasn’t—maybe I was worse. Maybe I had a villain arc.”

He chuckles. “That doesn’t seem likely.”

“I dunno, maybe it explains the vending machine coffee and my fish egg related threats,” you say and you feel almost giddy when he returns your smile. “Or maybe I’m the same and all those experiences that shaped me are just scars I can’t see.” You shrug and take a sip of your coffee. “At the end of the day, though, that timeline is gone. I’m all that’s left. It’s sad, but it’s also freeing, in a way.”

He nods. “Mobius has said much the same.”

You smile slightly. “Our philosophies are similar, I suppose, though I think there are probably more bits of his past self in his present self than he realizes.”

Loki grins. “It’s the jet skis, isn’t it?”

“I mean, I just don’t think most normal people spend that much time expounding on the reliability of the Yamaha engine versus the pure, raw power of the Kawasaki.”

Loki holds up a finger. “But have you gotten the lecture about Yamaha’s braking system?”

“I think I have that memorized at this point.”

“‘The perfect choice for families.’”

“‘You just tap the brakes. Just tap them. Perfectly smooth stop every time.’”

“‘Reliability meets affordability.’”

“‘You can’t say no to that.’”

You think you probably could have riffed on this for a bit, but you’re interrupted by the arrival of Connie with your dinner.

The Sunday Special turns out to be a fairly traditional breakfast—eggs, hash browns, two fluffy pancakes, sausage, toast, a little bowl of strawberries.

“Definitely lots of fish eggs in this meal,” you say to Loki after Connie leaves.

His smile is small, but genuine. “You haven’t looked under the pancakes yet.”

You feel it then, but you don’t fully understand until later that this dinner has unlocked something important between the two of you. After months of awkward, stilted conversation, it’s like you finally understand how to talk to each other. And you’re surprised to find that even outside of your big stupid crush, you actually like Loki. You like his sly smiles and his dry humor and how easily the two of you fall into a routine of playful banter. You click in a way that surprises you, in a way that makes you mourn the lost potential of all those awkward, stilted months and feel giddy about the possibilities ahead.

Dinner is over too soon and you walk back to the TVA feeling revived from the coffee and the conversation. 

Disaster awaits you back at the office, though: you’d left a stack of the Nero variant files on your desk and evidently the construction was too precarious, as the entire pile had tipped off your desk and spilled to the floor, contents scattered everywhere.

“Fucking hell,” you sigh, running a hand through your hair. You’re not sure whether you want to laugh, cry, or scream. Possibly, it’s all three.

“Here.” Loki is bending down on the floor to gather the files. You studiously try to not ogle his ass or thighs. Or at least not obviously. “Clear off some space on your desk—I’ll help.”

Twenty minutes later, you’ve set up an entirely new system—Loki has dragged his chair over to your desk and the cart of unsorted files sits between you, like a surly metallic chaperone. And even later when you’ve sorted out all of the files from the floor, he remains parked at the end of your desk, a stack of new, unsorted files in front of him. Admittedly, it’s a lot more efficient for you to work like this: privately, though, it gives you a warm glow that has nothing to do with workplace efficiency.

“I’ve invented a new game,” he says some time later. 

“What’s that?”

“Every time either one of us finds documentation showing Renato Lucchese losing money on a racehorse he was told was not a good investment, I get to have a drink.”

You look up at him. “Look, I know you’re a god and everything, but I am pretty sure that will kill you.”

He sighs and tosses the file into the Lucchese pile. “I think it would add a little excitement to the evening, don’t you?”

You raise your eyebrows and look back at the file in front of you. “You mean this isn’t your idea of a fun Friday night?”

“My idea of a fun Friday night includes far fewer files and a lot more debauchery,” he says, taking a new file from the cart.

You glance at the clock. “Well, it’s only eleven. I don’t usually start body shots until after midnight.”

“What are body shots?”

For one horrifying moment, you think that you’re going to actually have to explain this to him, but then you get a good look at his expression.

He’s teasing you.

“You’re an ass,” you say, swatting him on the shoulder with the file you’re holding.

He wags a finger at you. “That’s workplace violence. I’m going to have to report that.”

You lean back in your chair and return to your file. “I’m pretty confident that you’ll be put off by the amount of paperwork that process requires.”

He shakes his head as he returns to his own file. “Uncontrolled bureaucracy is how bad actors escape accountability.” There’s a brief pause. “And…there’s another racehorse.”

You continue on like this for the rest of the evening, occasionally chatting and Loki proving definitively that the Renato Lucchese racehorse drinking game could not be played without resulting in a fatality. It’s nice, though. Yes, it’s sorting files and yes, it’s not the most intellectually riveting task you’ve ever done, but spending time with Loki is nice. It’s because of this that you find yourself trying to stay awake, pushing past your looming exhaustion.

But around two, you can’t quite fight the heaviness of your eyelids any longer and you doze off in the middle of a report on the sinking of the Lusitania.

“Hey.” Loki is gently shaking your shoulder. The way he says your name in that deliciously deep voice makes you want to swoon and you’re glad that you have the ready made excuse of sleepiness to explain any embarrassing behavior on your end.

“I think you’d better call it a night,” he says gently. “Get some sleep and come back with fresh eyes.”

“What about you?” you say. “Are you going to do the same, or are you just all talk?”

He smiles at you and it warms you to the very tips of your toes. You could bask in that smile like a cat in a sunbeam.

“I’m starting to fade a bit myself,” he says

“Very convenient,” you say and he grins at you.

“Come on, I’ll see you back home.”

Part of you wants to protest—there’s really no need for him to walk you home—but a larger, louder part of you wants to let it be, prolong the magic of tonight for just a little longer.

There’s a comfortable silence between the two of you as you walk out of the office together. 

“What time do you think you’re going to come in tomorrow?” he asks as you approach the residential wing. “It’s probably sensible to coordinate our efforts a bit.”

“Yeah, that’s a good point,” you say. “I was thinking nine, but that will be dependent on how much coffee I have.”

“Yes, about that,” he says. “I cannot stand idly by and watch you torture yourself with vending machine coffee.”

“Well, the cafeteria will be open, so I was going to torture myself with cafeteria coffee, which is at least thirty percent less over brewed.”

He clicks his tongue. “You’re not making a compelling case for yourself.”

“To be fair, it’s quite late and I’ve been staring at files for hours.”

“All the more reason to get decent coffee,” he says. “We’re going out for breakfast.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Oh, we are?”

“Consider it an intervention,” he says. “I’ll come collect you at eight.”

You’re not quite sure if this is just his natural confidence and swagger coming through or if he’s flirting with you and this counts as a date.

“Where are we going?”

“I know a place.”

*

The place in question turns out to be a food cart in Central Park in 1998.

“Should I even bother asking if you have supervisor approval for this?” you say, looking skeptically at the time door glimmering before you.

Loki scoffs. “I don’t have a supervisor.”

“You do. It’s Mobius.”

“That can’t be right, we’re peers.”

“You’re absolutely not. Did you read any of the onboarding materials?”

He ignores your question. “I don’t see why I’d even need a supervisor, honestly.”

You snort. “Need I remind you of what happened at the Nixon inauguration?”

He spreads his hands in front of him. “It’s not my fault that I’m the only one with a sense of humor.”

“I’m not entirely sure that was the problem,” you say. “Gerald Ford is never going to be the same, from what I understand.”

Loki waves a dismissive hand. “He’ll be fine, the tail isn’t permanent. Now, are you coming or not?”

You roll your eyes at him and make a halfhearted complaint about proper protocol, but you know that you’re walking through that time door and not looking back. You knew that before he even posed the question.

The food cart is owned by a man named Samir who has a wide smile and booming laugh. He talks to Loki like he’s a friend and he tells you that you have the prettiest eyes he’s ever seen. You are fairly certain he’s exaggerating, but you stuff a few extra bills into the tip jar anyway.

“I can’t believe you fell for that,” says Loki as you walk away, each carrying a coffee and a brown paper bag with a breakfast sandwich.

“Fell for what?” you say, batting your eyes at him. “I do have beautiful eyes.”

“I’ve heard him say that on at least thirty separate occasions.”

“Yeah, but this time he really meant it. I could tell.”

He rolls his eyes and leads you to a park bench overlooking a wide, grassy field. The leaves are just starting to change and the air has a little bit of a bite to it. 

You sit down on the bench and take a sip of your coffee.

“It is good coffee, I’ll give you that,” you say.

“See,” says Loki, “you can’t go back to that vending machine sludge after this.”

“I mean, if it’s eleven o’clock at night and I’m on a deadline, I can.”

“Darling. You have a TemPad.”

“Loki. Read the personnel manual.”

He wrinkles his nose. “It’s not really my genre.”

You roll your eyes and take out your breakfast sandwich. “What is your genre?”

He raises an eyebrow. “Is that a serious question?”

“Of course it is,” you say. “I love talking about books.”

He gives you a slight smile and takes a sip of his coffee. “A little bit of everything, honestly,” he says. “Philosophy. Magical theory. History. Politics. Anything from Asgard, really, though it can be a bit more challenging getting some of those titles.”

“I’ve had pretty good luck with the Library of the Sacred Timeline—have you checked there yet?”

He frowns. “I’m not familiar.”

“Oh, you’d like it—it’s on the eighteenth floor. It’s intended to be a collection of the greatest works of literature from as many branches of the timeline as possible,” you say. “It started as a research project, but people liked it and it just kind of evolved into this huge collection. They’ve actually got a pretty sizeable collection of books from Asgard.”

It’s like you’ve told him that his personal paradise had been located on the eighteenth floor this entire time. “Will you show me?”

He is practically vibrating with the sort of anticipatory, manic energy that you typically would associate with Christmas morning right before you tear into presents. It’s sweetly endearing.

“Of course.”

Ten minutes later, you’re leading him through the winding hallways on the eighteenth floor. You’re not surprised he hasn’t heard about the library—it’s a bit out of the way and the eighteenth floor is so poorly designed that it’s not terribly easy to find.

The design of the library is a sharp departure from the rest of the TVA. The shelves and floors are made of the kind of dark mahogany that you typically see in the kind of estates that look like something directly out of a Jane Austen novel. Worn oriental rugs muffle your footsteps on the creaky wood floors and the air smells faintly of dust and paper.

There’s a subtle change in Loki when you walk through the doors—almost like a muscle in his shoulders finally relaxes and he seems truly at home for the first time since he arrived.

You touch his hand. “This way.”

You lead him into the stacks, back to the far corner, right after the books from Alfheim.

“You can borrow whichever ones you like,” you say softly. “There’s a sign out sheet at the front desk.”

He nods, though you don’t think he really hears you—he only has eyes for the shelves, his gaze sweeping across the spines like they’re old friends. You’re about to excuse yourself to give him a little privacy when his brow furrows and he exhales sharply. “Oh, you can’t be serious.”

“What is it?”

They have the entirety of the finest Asgardian literature at their disposal. Untold centuries of the writings of our greatest minds—” he plucks a book off the shelf, “—and they choose to include this?”

The title looks fairly innocuous—a red, leather bound book with the title The Cloistered Heart embossed in gold script on the front. You take the book from him and open it. “What’s the problem with this?”

“It’s inconsequential fluff, literary pablum of the highest order.”

This is the Loki that you’re more familiar with and a smile curls at your lips. Almost on cue, you flip the book open to a chapter titled “The Wedding and Bedding of Aloisa.”

You bite back a laugh and look up at him. “It’s a romance novel.”

“Precisely my point,” he says. “To think that this is on the same shelf as Nielsen and Auber.”

“That’s kind of how libraries work,” you say, flipping further into the book. The phrases “throbbing length” and “eager moans” draw your eye and you have to tamp down another laugh. “Oh, and it’s a sexy romance novel.”

“It appeals to the lowest common denominator, yes.”

“What, so you’re too good for a bodice ripper?”

He scoffs. “I prefer to do the bodice ripping myself, not read some overwrought description of it.”

You are glad you’re looking at the book because you’re pretty sure you’d disintegrate if you had to make eye contact with him while he delivered that line. “Oh spare me,” you say lightly, snapping the book shut and drawing it to your chest. “I’m gonna read this.”

He blows out a puff of air. “It’s a waste of your time.”

“I’ve got lots of time, I can afford to waste it,” you say cheekily. “Besides, I’m curious to see what kind of book turns the god of mischief into a pearl clutching prude.”

Loki sputters. “Prude? Darling, let me assure you, I’m no prude—”

“I’ll leave you to browse,” you say with a grin as you turn away from him. “Come find me at the front when you’re ready to go.”

You’re a few chapters into the book when Loki rejoins you at the front of the library, a small stack of books tucked under his arm.

You close your book with a snap. “This book is a delight. I think your real issue is just that you’re no fun.”

He scoffs. “I’m very fun.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

You bicker playfully back and forth as you check out your books and leave the library. A quick glance at your watch tells you that you spent much more time there than you’d planned. You can’t quite bring yourself to worry about that, though, not with the memory of Loki’s wonderstruck expression burning so bright in your mind.

There’s a bit of a lull in the conversation as you wait for the elevator.

“Thank you,” he says softly.

“For what?”

“For showing me that.”

“Of course. I’m sorry you didn’t know about it sooner.”

He looks at you, lips parting slightly like he’s about to say something. His tongue swipes briefly over his bottom lip and you would swear that his gaze drops to your mouth for just a second.

For just a second—one heady, slightly irrational second—you think he might be about to kiss you.

The ding of the elevator arriving breaks the spell, startling you just a little. You run a hand through your hair, trying to give off the impression of composure even as your heart beats wildly in your chest.

Loki gestures to the elevator doors. “After you.”

There is a group of analysts in the elevator already, chatting animatedly and completely obliterating any chance you may have had at recapturing that moment.

You try not to dwell too much in contemplating what ifs or timeline branches—often, it feels too much like work, something Mobius might assign you.

But you know that the possibility of that moment—what if the elevator had been a hair slower, what if those analysts had taken a different route, what if you were braver—you know that’s something that’s going to haunt you for a while.

*

You wouldn’t give up that time in the library for anything—it’s one of those moments that feels formative, something that you’ll return to again and again for one reason or another.

But it’s also true that it’s time that you probably could have used for sorting files and as Saturday ticks on, you can’t help but wish you had a way to pull another hour out of somewhere.

“We’re not going to be able to make this deadline, are we?” you say with a sigh.

It’s getting late into the evening and the cart of files still to be sorted still remains depressingly full, despite the fact that you’d brought both lunch and dinner back to your desk so you could continue working.

Loki eyes the remaining files. “I think we might. We made good progress today.”

You rub your eyes. “My brain feels like it’s about to leak out my ears.”

Loki takes the file you are working on and sets it back in the stack of unsorted files. “I think that might be a sign it’s time to turn in,” he says.

“There’s still so much left.”

“There’s still tomorrow.”

You reach for the file. “Well, let me just—”

He pulls your hand away from the pile. “You can come back to it in the morning. Besides, if you’re this tired, you’re not going to do good work anyway.”

He squeezes your hand and drops it. It’s brief enough to still be friendly, but unusual enough to make you wonder and send your mind racing back to that moment by the elevator.

You shake the thought away. It’s late and you’re tired.

You heave a world weary sigh and slump back in your chair. “I hate it when you’re right.”

To his credit, he only smirks a little. “Come on. I’ll walk you back.”

Once again, there’s no reason for him to do this, but once again, you’re inclined to let him.

You pack up for the evening and walk out of the office side by side. You’re trying very hard not to think about the fact that this is likely the last night that you’ll do this, that tomorrow the assignment will be over.

As you near the residential wing, you start to hear distant shouts. If you inhale deeply, you catch a very faint whiff of explosives—you’re not sure what kind.

“I think someone brought work home,” you say with a sigh. 

This happens from time to time—things get out of hand in the field or something happens when retrieving an asset or a target and all hell breaks loose at the TVA. Mobius had once referred to it as “bringing work home” and the name had stuck.

“Wasn’t there an incident in this wing not long ago?” asks Loki.

“Yes.” You sigh, running a hand through your hair. “I had to call off the next day—I got no sleep that night.” You listen carefully, trying to determine the source of the noise and the status of the problem. “But maybe it’s almost over,” you say with an optimism you don’t fully feel. “Sometimes these things are resolved really quick.”

Your heart continues to sink the closer you come to your home. The acrid burn of explosives only increases and you think you catch the low, dull roar of something not quite human.

And indeed, when you turn the final corner, you are immediately stopped by an electric blue barrier being monitored by a hunter. G-21–you’ve worked with her on a couple of missions before.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” slips out of your mouth before you can stop yourself.

“There’s an ongoing incident in this area,” says G-21 and you almost want to laugh because no shit. 

“How long do you think it’s gonna be closed off?” you ask.

She shrugs. “We’re at a code 54 right now, but it’s probably gonna escalate.”

With pitch perfect timing and before you can even try to remember what a code 54 means, there’s an almighty crash and a low bellow.

“Go!” she yells before running toward the commotion amid frantic calls for backup.

Loki is grabbing your wrist and pulling you into a run.

Your standard issue work shoes are comfortable enough on a day to day basis, but you certainly want to have words with whoever decided that leather soled shoes with absolutely no grips were a good choice for a building floored almost entirely in linoleum. In a low stakes situation, it’s meant occasionally you wipe out in the cafeteria and hurt nothing but your pride. In this situation, it means that Loki’s firm grip on your hand is the only thing keeping you upright.

But there’s a small mercy in that while you can still hear distant crashes and shrieks, whatever is happening down that hallway doesn’t seem to be following you and eventually, you both slow to a brisk walk and Loki drops your hand.

You haven’t even had a chance to consider where you are going to sleep tonight. You could probably curl up on that terrible couch in the office and just plan on getting up early enough to run back to your place for a quick shower and a change of clothes…assuming the incident resolves by then—

“You can stay with me,” says Loki, as though he can hear you trying to sort this out.

“Oh, that’s okay, I’ll just—”

“If you say you’re going to sleep on that terrible couch in the office, I will personally take you to the most boring governmental proceeding I can find and leave you there until you come to your senses.”

“Sounds like a great place to fall asleep,” you say.

His eyes glint, but his tone brooks no arguments. “You’re staying with me tonight.”

You sigh, but you can’t think of a counterpoint. “When did you get so bossy?”

“Darling, I’m a prince,” he says with a bit of a wry smirk. “It’s my birthright.”

Loki lives on the opposite end of the residential wing and his place looks quite a bit like yours—he’s got an extra window in the kitchen but the floor plan is otherwise the same. A lot of his furniture is standard issue, but there are little details that make it seem more personal: an area rug with a bit of fraying on the edges, a painting of what you think is an Asgardian landscape, a vase filled with dried flowers so delicate they look like they might disintegrate if you were to touch them. And books—so many books. Books on shelves, stacked on the coffee table, tucked into the little rack that you know is meant to hold magazines. Hardbacks, paperbacks, leather bound, dog-eared, well-worn and brand new. It’s no wonder he was so excited about the library.

“Have a seat,” he says, gesturing to the couch. “I’ll get some things for you.”

You sit down and he disappears down the hall. You idly examine the books stacked on the end table next to you. Many are quite clearly from Asgard and it sparks a pang of sympathy—it’s like his homesickness is on full display in his living room and there’s something sweet and sad about seeing that vulnerability laid so bare.

He returns a few minutes later with a pair of pajamas, a toothbrush, and a hand towel.

“Here,” he says, handing you the pile. “Bathroom’s just down the hall. I’ll make up a bed for you.”

“Thanks.”

In the bathroom, you realize that the pajamas he’s given you aren’t the standard set you can order from the TVA. These are made of a dark emerald silk that ripples over your skin like water, and somehow, that makes it feel a thousand times more personal than if he’d loaned you a standard set. They don’t fit quite right on you, but they’ll work well enough for tonight.

You brush your teeth and attempt to get through as much of your evening routine as you can before collecting your clothes and exiting the bathroom.

When you return to the living room, you expect to find that he’s made up a bed for you on the couch. These living units only have one bedroom—it would be quite reasonable to have you sleep on the couch.

You do not expect to find a pajama clad Loki stretched out reading on the couch, a blanket over his lap and his head propped up on a pillow like he intends to sleep there.

You exhale slowly. “Please tell me you are not giving up your bed.”

“Don’t be absurd, of course I am,” he says without even looking up from his book. “The point of this was to prevent you from sleeping on a couch, not simply put you on a couch in a different location.”

You wish you had something to throw at him. “You don’t even fit on that couch.”

“Luckily, my knees bend. Besides, you’re a guest,” he says, as though that settles it.

You roll your eyes and plunk yourself down in the armchair across from the couch, setting your pile of clothes on the floor. “I’m not moving until you give up the couch.”

He finally looks up from his book. “You’re really going to do this?”

You examine your fingernails, flicking away an invisible speck of dust. “I’m not the one being unreasonable. I’m simply meeting you at your level.”

“If you think that I’m being unreasonable and you’re also saying you’re meeting me at my level, does that not mean you are admitting that you are being unreasonable?”

“It’s nearly one o’clock in the morning. I’m not arguing semantics with you.”

“Fine.” His eyes glimmer as he sets his book down and slowly rises to his feet. “But you’re still not sleeping on the couch.”

“Oh, you’re going to be so disappointed when you realize how wrong you are,” you say. You think you see your opening and you try to play it cool.

He’s walking toward you, leaving your path to the couch wide open. In your head, you can see exactly how this works: you’ll spring from your chair and dart around the coffee table before diving onto the couch like a baseball player sliding into home plate, soundly defeating Loki. Easy peasy.

Instead, what happens is that you spring to your feet and Loki moves with inhuman speed, grabbing you around your waist and pinning you to the front of his chest, stopping you in your tracks almost immediately.

“I suppose I should have expected that,” he says. Your back is facing him, but you can almost hear the dry, sardonic look he’s giving you.

“Probably,” you say. “God of mischief and all.” You struggle fruitlessly against his iron grip. “You can let me go now.”

He laughs. “I’m afraid I can’t. It was clearly a mistake to trust you. I won’t be making that error again.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say, trying again to squirm away from him. “Let me go.”

“The interesting thing about all of this is that you’ve made a rather substantial tactical error,” he says, continuing as though he can’t hear you.

“You’re bluffing,” you say with more confidence than you feel.

“Fascinating theory,” he says, “but I don’t think it’s going to work out for you.”

With that same ridiculous speed, he’s suddenly spinning you around and lifting you, tossing you easily over his shoulder.

“Hey!” you shout in protest.

“I warned you,” he says, his voice full of mirth as he carries you toward the bedroom.

This is not exactly how you’ve imagined being carried off to bed by Loki.

Though, admittedly, you do have a nice view of his ass.

“This is ridiculous,” you say.

“You brought this upon yourself.” He’s walking into the bedroom and a moment later, he’s lifting you from his shoulder and tossing you unceremoniously onto his bed.

You scramble to your feet and try to lunge toward the door, but he’s clearly expecting that. Before your feet even hit the floor, he catches you around the waist and hauls you back to the bed. Your back hits the mattress and you try to leverage the momentum to propel yourself back onto your feet.

He catches you immediately and you find yourself back on the bed again.

“I don’t mean to be patronizing,” he says, failing to bite back a laugh, “but it’s adorable that you think you can outmaneuver me.”

That is deeply offensive and the only way you can earn my forgiveness is by letting me take my rightful place on the couch.” You can’t quite keep the laugh from your voice.

He grins. “Not a chance.”

You attempt to dive off the opposite side of the bed, only to have him grab you by the ankles and pull you back. You manage to dislodge him and lunge in the opposite direction, only to be immediately thwarted.

It becomes increasingly hilarious the longer it goes on and soon your sides are aching from laughter. Loki is laughing too, but it doesn’t seem to affect his strength or speed at all.

Eventually, he wrestles you back down onto the bed and you are fairly certain there’s no way out of this one—he’s got your wrists pinned above your head and his legs locked around yours. You’re both a little out of breath.

“Yield,” he says.

You shake your head. “Never.”

His gaze flicks to your lips and back to your eyes. “Yield.”

“No.”

Something has changed. There’s an electricity and intensity that crackles in the air between you, possibilities blooming in both of your gazes. It feels a little like that moment by the elevator, but you’re afraid to hope, afraid to even wish because the idea of him wanting you still feels as impossible as capturing smoke with a net. 

But the way he’s looking at you, the way his gaze keeps drifting between your eyes and your lips…that’s not nothing.

“Yield.”

You lick your lips, your heart beating wildly. “No.”

Is it just your imagination, or did his breath hitch when you licked your lips?

“Yield.”

God, he’s so close and you want him so badly. 

“No.”

He looks again at your lips and this time, he closes the distance between you.

They call him Silvertongue—you’ve heard the jokes, you’ve rolled your eyes at all of them. But as he kisses you, you realize that there’s an element of truth there because only seconds in and you’re ready to sign away your soul to live under the power of Loki’s tongue. The slow, warm slide of it against yours, the way he guides your mouth against his, the way he lets out a soft sigh as he tastes you—you would give up everything if it meant you could stay like this.

“Yield,” he breathes against your lips.

“No,” you say.

He deepens the kiss, catching your lower lip between his teeth and gently tugging until you whimper and arch against him.

He still has your hands pinned against the bed, his grip unyielding when you try to wrestle them away.

“Let me touch you,” you say when he draws back. You want to touch him everywhere—run your hands along every muscle you’ve admired from afar. 

“Then yield,” he says with a grin, his eyes flashing with devilish intent.

You consider this for a moment. You could give in—there aren’t really any stakes at this point and you’re pretty sure you’re both going to end up sleeping in his bed tonight anyway. But that glint of mischief in his eyes also promises some intriguing possibilities if you stand firm.

“No,” you say.

“Such a pity,” says Loki, though his expression is one of hungry delight.

His hands slip free of your wrists then, but they stay pinned to the bed by some invisible force.

“Cheater,” you say. 

“I think this is only fair,” he says, his hands sliding to your hips. “I’m clearly the victor, am I not entitled to my prize?”

You shiver. “Your prize?”

“Yes.” He kisses down the column of your throat. “My lovely, lovely prize.”

“How can I be your prize if I’m also your competitor?”

“You think too much,” he mumbles against your neck.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“Generally, it’s not.” He sits back on his heels between your legs, looking you over with satisfaction. “But in this case, it’s distracting you from more pressing matters.” His hands creep under the hem of your shirt, stroking the small of your back, thumbs tracing teasingly along the waistband of your pajama pants. 

“Have I mentioned how much I enjoy seeing you in my clothes?” he asks. There’s a husky depth to his voice and a hunger in his eyes that sends a flood of arousal to your cunt.

“You have not,” you say.

“A casualty of too much thinking,” he says solemnly, his thumbs gently grazing the skin at your hipbones. “You look utterly delectable. I almost want to leave them on.” His eyes glitter with mischief. “Almost.” His hand strays to the bottom button on your pajama top. “May I?”

You nod. “Yes.”

He slips the button free and slowly makes his way up until your shirt is open. He carefully pushes the fabric aside, baring your breasts to his sight and touch.

You’ve never felt more beautiful seeing Loki stare at you, lips slightly parted, eyes wide and hungry. He trails one hand up your stomach and rib cage and slowly brushes a thumb over your nipple. You gasp and the sensitive skin puckers and stiffens as he palms your breast, rolling your nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

“Gorgeous,” he murmurs as he lowers his mouth to your breast, his tongue and lips taking up the role of his hand, while his other hand moves to cup your other breast. You whimper, wishing you could run your hands through his hair. “That’s it,” he purrs, “I want to hear all the sounds you can make, my love.”

You rock your hips forward and arch your back as he lavishes attention on your breasts. It’s the most delicious kind of torture, having him so close, but not being able to touch him.

He’s taking his time, which you both love and hate. He feels so good, but you need him to touch you, you need to touch him, you need him inside of you. You wait until you can’t take it any more and breathe his name like it’s a prayer.

You wonder if this is what he was waiting for because with little more than a brief smirk and a wicked look, he starts kissing his way back up your chest and neck. You whimper when his lips meet yours and you can feel him grin as he kisses you. He fits his hips against yours, angling himself so that his cock rubs up against your clit just right and you moan into his mouth. You can tell that he’s big and part of you wants to savor the anticipation even though you feel like you might go mad if he doesn’t fuck you now. You rock your hips against him, trying to feel that friction.

His large hands frame your face, one hand sliding to cradle the back of your head so he can draw you deeper, the other trailing from your cheek to your throat.

Both hands soon stroke down your sides, lingering teasingly at the waistband of your pajama pants. He hooks his thumbs underneath the waistband and you lift your hips. He slides your pants down maybe an inch and you can feel him smiling as he kisses you. You lift your hips again and your waistband creeps down another inch.

“Loki.” His name falls from your lips with a sigh.

“What is it, my love?”

“Touch me,” you breathe. “Please.”

You lift your hips again and this time, he pulls the fabric fully down and off your legs. He guides your legs apart and stares appreciatively at your bare cunt, his teasing expression replaced by a rapt awe.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs. 

You believe him.

His hands stroke your thighs, seemingly in no hurry, despite your pleading whimpers and the way you arch against the mattress. He draws his thumb gently along your slit, barely grazing your clit.

“Do you know what an utter distraction it’s been sitting behind you?” he asks, tracing your clit in the slowest, lightest circle.

You arch upward, hands still bound by his magic. “Tell me,” you breathe, your hips rising to chase his hand.

“Every time you stood up, I could only think about bending you over the desk.”

You manage a sly smirk. “And here I thought you didn’t like me much at all.”

His thumb presses a little more against your clit and you moan.

“I’ve wanted you from the moment I saw you,” he says, rolling his thumb in a slow circle. “I kept you at arm’s length partly as a matter of protection.”

For who?”

“You,” he says. “I’m not fully redeemed in some eyes and you being involved with a dangerous variant—”

“You’re not,” you say.

“Some would disagree.”

“Well, they’re wrong,” you say. “You’re not a dangerous variant. You’re Loki Laufeyson and I want you just as you are.”

There’s something unreadable in his expression and it makes you wonder how many people have told him that he can just be himself.

“You should be careful saying such lovely things to me, you know,” he says solemnly.

You raise an eyebrow. “Oh really? And why is that?”

“Because it makes me want to do very wicked things to you.”

You’re surprised you’re not shaking, you want him so badly. “What kinds of wicked things?”

“Oh, all manner of wicked things.” He presses a kiss to the inside of your knee, his tongue swiping briefly against your skin. “Things with my mouth...” His thumb rolls over your clit again, his index finger teasing your entrance before retreating. “…my hands…” He drags his gaze over your naked form before locking eyes with you. “My cock.”

A shiver works its way up your spine. “So if I talk about how I think you’re really clever and funny and I find it unbelievably sexy, what sort of wicked thing would that merit?”

The intensity of his gaze makes you shiver again. He crouches down and presses another kiss against the inside of your knee, slowly moving upward. “If you keep talking like that, I’m not going to let you leave my bed for days.”

“You know that’s not a disincentive, right?” you say, sucking in a sharp breath as he nips at the soft skin of your inner thigh. “I’ve wanted you for such a long time, Loki.”

“I’ll make it weeks if you’re not careful.”

“Again, not a disincentive.” You gently tug at your bound wrists and find that they’re still firmly secured. It’s exhilarating, even though you really wish you could run your hands through his hair, especially if he ends up where you think he’s going.

“What else should I tell you?” you muse as he continues his agonizingly slow path along your thigh. “You know, half the reason I kept to myself was that I wanted you so much I was certain that I’d make a fool of myself.”

That earns you a few circles of your clit with his thumb, but his progress up your thigh remains slow. You have a theory about what might move the needle, though.

“I know you like to act like you’re this sort of barely reformed villain, but I think there’s more good in you than you’d like people to believe.”

This time, he moves up to the crease where your thigh joins your hip, close enough that you can feel the heat of his breath ghosting along your labia. His tongue traces a line along your skin and you briefly wonder if you’ll be able to hold it together enough to deliver the last part.

“And,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady, “yesterday and today made me want you even more because I feel like I finally saw who you really are and you’re even more wond—”

Your words abruptly give way to a breathy moan because his perfect, skilled tongue has finally found its way to your clit.

You had a plan from here, but whatever it was has dissolved into nothing under the skilled caress of Loki’s tongue. You suspected he would be good at this from the way that he’d kissed you earlier, but you could not have imagined that it would feel like this.

“Oh my god, Loki.” Your thighs are already quaking. You tug again at the invisible bonds on your wrists, but they hold fast. Something about the way the bonds are keeping you gently stretched along the bed combined with how his large hands have your thighs spread open seems to heighten every sensation. There’s no wiggling away from him or adjusting yourself so that you feel more or less of the onslaught of his tongue on your cunt. You are completely at his mercy and you’re not entirely surprised that you fucking love it.

He slides a finger into your aching channel and your cunt shudders around the thick intrusion. The warm, roiling center of your orgasm starts builds in your hips with every stroke of his tongue, spinning faster and faster, like ocean winds whipping up into a hurricane. Your back arches and his tongue presses flat against your clit, and suddenly you know that this is going to be what takes you over the edge.

Loki seems to know it too, at least from the way that he presses his tongue more firmly against you, one arm slung across your hips to hold you in place. His other hand slides two fingers inside you, rocking and curling against that aching, tender spot.

You whimper, your hips bucking wildly. It’s so good and so much and you are almost there.

You look down at him then, his hair wild, hollowed cheeks flushed pink as his tongue works you over, his eyes closed like he couldn’t imagine anything more blissful than being in between your legs while you come undone.

This is ultimately what tips you over the edge. The storm that has been forming inside you is finally let loose and you arch your back and cry out in a wordless scream as your climax crashes into you.

Only then do the bonds around your wrists release and your hands fly down to grab his hair as your body shakes with pleasure.

It takes a moment for you to get your breath back and reacquaint yourself with the concept of speech, but when you do, you find Loki looking up at you, his expression pure mischief.

“And to think you wanted to sleep on the couch.”

“It wasn’t that I wanted to sleep on the couch, it’s that—” Your voice cuts off as his tongue starts stroking your clit again.

“It’s what?” he asks in between strokes, his smirk obvious in his voice. The lingering ripples of your orgasm are coalescing around the path of his tongue, tightening that coil in your belly again.

“Fuck—you’re not playing fair, you can’t just—” You lose your sentence to a low moan that rises up from your chest. “You can’t just—fuck, yes—you can’t…oh god, yes, just like that.”

His laughter rumbles against you as your hips start rocking against his mouth. How are you already so close?

“You can’t just—fuck—win an argument by—”

You’re trying to say that he can’t expect to win an argument by making you come and you think he might understand this based on how determined he seems to be to prove you wrong. His fingers curl again until he finds that soft, tender spot that is so often the key to your unraveling.

You have stopped trying to complete that sentence—you moan, your hands tangling in his hair, urging him on as the swell of your climax rushes up, inevitable as a tidal wave looming over a seaside village.

You cry out as it crests and breaks, falling down over you in a rush of tingling pleasure that feels like champagne and fireworks all at once.

“Now, what was it you were saying, my love?” he asks as he releases your clit a moment later. “Something about how I can’t just win an argument by making you come? I couldn’t quite hear you over the sound of you coming completely undone on my tongue.”

“Oh, you think you’re so smart,” you say, giving him a stern look as he crawls up your body.

“You know what I think?” he says, settling himself on his side next to you. “I think you liked submitting to me.”

You shiver before you can even think about hiding it and his smile turns decidedly vulpine. 

“You did, didn’t you? You liked having your hands bound and being completely at my mercy while I licked your pretty cunt until you came undone in my mouth.”

“You are enjoying this far too much,” you say.

“I am enjoying it the correct amount.”

You realize your hands are now free to explore his body and you tug at his pajama shirt. “I think you’re wearing too many clothes,” you say.

He gives you a wicked grin as he lets you pull his shirt over his head. “Yes, perhaps it’s time we even things up.”

You pull the shirt away and rake your eyes over him greedily, your hands following the path of your gaze. He is as perfect as you imagined, unfairly beautiful in the dim light of the bedroom.

You hook your thumbs into the waistband of his pajama pants and lower them an inch, a cheeky parallel of how he teased you earlier. His lips curl into a sharp smile when he realizes what you’re doing.

“Interesting strategy.” There’s a bit of a growl in his voice, a rough desperation that makes your cunt clench. “But I think you forgot that I have the upper hand here.”

He raises his hand and with a twist of his wrist, his remaining clothes dissolve in a shimmer of green and he is bare before you.

Your breath catches in your throat. His cock commands your immediate attention, nudging up against your thigh—he’s big, as you suspected, but completely bare and rock hard, he somehow seems longer and thicker than he had when he was grinding against you.

He pulls you into a slow kiss as you reach for his cock. You wrap your hand around him, delighting in the silky hardness of him, the way he throbs in your hand and the low groan he makes as your hand moves from base to tip and back, the way his hips thrust along with you. Your cunt clenches in anticipation.

After a moment, though, he places his hand over yours, slowing your movements.

“I need to be inside you,” he rasps.

“Yes,” you breathe.

He rolls on top of you  and you’re not sure that you’ve ever felt anything quite as wonderful as the heat of his bare skin and yours pressed together. This feeling means intimacy, a closeness that you’d longed for but never expected even in your wildest daydreams.

He pulls you into a kiss, slow, soft, and languid, like you have all the time in the world and he intends to take it. It’s decadent and dreamy and perfect.

But the heavy weight of his bare cock resting against your stomach combined with the ache between your legs—an ache that would be so perfectly soothed by the hard column of flesh currently throbbing against you—proves to be a force too powerful to resist for very long.

You cant your hips against him, snaking one leg around his waist, hoping he’ll get the hint.

He does.

He braces himself on one hand, the other sliding between your bodies to rub his cock along your slick folds. He positions himself at your entrance, waiting for your breathy plea to begin to ease himself slowly into you.

He fills and stretches you in the most wonderful way, but even more than that, he feels like home. The thought strikes you quite suddenly and you’re not entirely sure about everything it means, but you know it’s good and right.

He pauses for just a moment, seeming to savor the feeling.

“You feel better than I ever imagined,” he says.

You quirk an eyebrow at him. “You imagined?”

He gives you a hungry smile as he leans in to kiss you. “Like I said: it has been an utter distraction sitting behind you.”

His rhythm is slow and easy, like he wants to take his time learning every inch of you and memorizing how you react to his touch. His mouth moves over yours in a slow kiss that’s somehow both languid and demanding, his tongue gliding in and out of your mouth in the same rhythm of his hips rocking into you. His cock bumps up against that sweet spot inside of you that his fingers had teased earlier, each stroke inching you closer to bliss.

He shifts the angle of his hips so that his pubic bone grinds against your clit and it feels so good you almost see stars. You can feel your orgasm building, your cunt growing slicker and tensing around his thrusting cock.

He draws back to look at you, eyes hazy with a loose, dreamy kind of pleasure.

“Do you have any idea how good you feel?” he breathes.

You are shaking. “Loki, I’m gonna come.”

“I know you are,” he purrs. “Let go for me, let me feel you, my love.”

With two more thrusts of his hips, you unravel.

He groans as you tremble around him, but mostly, he watches your face, rapt by the way you throw your head back against the bed and gasp his name like it’s the only thing that will save you.

“You’re beautiful when you come,” he breathes. “Absolutely stunning.”

He waits until you catch your breath before he kisses you again, slow and sensual. His hips are still rocking in that beautifully slow rhythm and you don’t know how it can still feel so good.

He keeps moving against you, his touch and his low murmurs of praise invoking a symphony of sensations. He presses deeper and your body sings with every thrust, your muscles tensing and tightening around him like you never want him to leave. Your climax swells again and you come with a whimper, your whole body shaking as he fucks you through it.

You want him to come, want to hear the sounds he makes and feel his sweet, hot release burning inside of you.

“I want you to come for me,” you breathe.

He grins at you. “Oh, I will, but not yet. You’re not done yet.”

You whimper. “Loki—”

“Two more, my love, two more and then I’ll come for you.”

Somehow, you give him three. By the second one, he’s panting and his words have become rough, his voice a growl as he utters some of the filthiest praise you’ve ever heard. The third builds quickly after that and you know instinctively that you’re going to take him over the edge with you this time.

You fight to keep your eyes open against the tidal wave of pleasure blooming again in your hips. You need to see him come undone.

As in everything else he does, he’s unfairly beautiful—he throws his head back, letting out a low groan that you can feel all the way to the tips of your toes. His cheeks are flushed, a few ink dark curls plastered to the light sheen of sweat on his forehead. You can feel him emptying himself inside you, his release hot and hard won.

It seems to last a long time and it’s another minute before his hips slow to a halt. He kisses you, so soft and sweet it would almost seem chaste were it not for the fact that his cock is still throbbing inside of you.

After a moment, he slowly eases out of you, rolling over onto his back, his arm snaking around your waist and pulling you to him like he can’t bear to be parted from you even for a moment.

You curl up against his side, your legs tangling with his. He takes your hand, lacing his fingers with yours before resting your clasped hands on his heart.

You could fall in love like this, you think sleepily to yourself.

You don’t know it then, but you’re right.

*

Time moves differently at the TVA, but a couple years later, there’s a ring in a box on your desk.

Loki likes a spectacle and you’d daydreamed about a traditional wedding, but when you talk it over, you both agree that you want to do something different, something quiet, something just for the two of you.

“I do think we should tell Mobius beforehand,” you say to Loki.

“Isn’t the point of eloping that no one knows until after it’s done?” says Loki.

“Yes, but I feel like we could make one exception,” you say. “If we’d done a full wedding, I would have asked him to give me away.”

Loki’s gaze softens a bit then and he pulls you close. “All right. But we only tell him right before we leave. The man can’t keep a secret.”

But Mobius doesn’t seem terribly surprised when you tell him—in fact, he seems far more concerned about your wedding gift.

“I didn’t have a chance to wrap it yet,” he says. He’s retrieved a large picture frame that had been propped against his desk, though he keeps it turned away from you. “So…this also requires a bit of an overdue confession for context.”

You raise your eyebrows. “A confession?”

“A confession,” says Mobius.

“Will I be angry about this?” asks Loki at the same time you say, “Is this like a go to jail confession or a misdemeanor confession?”

Mobius gives a good natured chuckle, shaking his head slightly. “God, the two of you. Always so dramatic. No wonder you ended up together.” He takes what feels like an unnecessarily long drink from the coffee mug on his desk. “It’s not bad, I promise.” Another sip of coffee. 

Loki sighs. “He always does this,” he says to you. “Have you noticed? Whenever he has something that you want to know, he stalls and drags it out just to torment you.”

“Okay,” you say, “but you jumping in to bicker with him probably doesn’t help.”

“I’m not bickering,” says Loki. “I’m simply pointing out that he’s stalling—”

“What was it you were saying, Mobius?” you say brightly, nudging Loki with your elbow.

Mobius’ eyes twinkle. “See,” he says to Loki, “I always liked her. It’s a good match.”

You don’t have to look at Loki to know he’s rolling his eyes, though he also makes a point of surreptitiously pinching your ass, a detail you hope Mobius doesn’t notice.

“Anyway,” says Mobius, taking a deep breath, “it was pretty clear to me from the start that you liked each other. And you also seemed absolutely determined to get in your own way.” He points to Loki. “Especially you with your whole stilted Asgardian prince thing.”

Loki frowns. “What are you talking about?”

Mobius sighs. “Anytime you like someone, it’s like your brain gets a factory reset and you get all overly polite and courtly.”

Loki scoffs. “I don’t do that at all.”

“You do. It’s deeply weird. You’re like a mannerly robot.”

Loki turns to you. “Darling, tell him he’s being absurd.”

You reach over and squeeze his hand. “You did call me ‘my lady’ a couple of times in the early days.”

Loki sighs and looks back at Mobius. “What was your point in mentioning this?”

“Well,” says Mobius, “you seemed pretty determined to get in your own way, so nothing was happening. And eventually I got sick of all of the pining, so I decided to take matters into my own hands.”

“What do you mean?”

Mobius pauses, a hint of a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “There wasn’t a breakthrough with Berlitz that weekend. What there was was a surplus in the overtime budget and a high priority indexing project for Archives.”

Your lips part as your brain slowly puts the pieces together. Mobius’ eyes twinkle.

“Wait,” you say, “you lied to us?”

“I did not lie,” says Mobius, his demeanor suddenly becoming very serious. “That would have been wrong.” He nods at Loki. “Also, it would’ve tipped him off and that would have ruined the whole thing. I simply failed to mention that the cart of files that I gave you needed to be sorted for indexing for the Archives department and I peppered in a couple of unrelated things about Berlitz.”

“But the office was empty that weekend,” says Loki.

Mobius snaps his fingers. “Right. I did make some adjustments to the schedule that weekend.”

“And the disturbance that prevented her from returning home on Saturday night?”

Mobius spreads his hands wide and grins. “All me, buddy. Paid G-21 five hundred bucks for that one.”

Loki pauses for a moment and then looks at you. “I don’t think I can be mad about this. I’m genuinely impressed.”

“I mean, I can’t argue with the results, but Jesus, Mobius, you could’ve just set us up on a blind date,” you say.

“Ah, but that’s not as fun,” Mobius says. “Plus, it wouldn’t have made for as good a wedding gift.” He turns the frame around and hands it to you both.

It’s both your timecards from that pay period, neatly framed side by side. Your eyes well with tears and Mobius smiles.

“Honestly, I’m just relieved it’s not a jet ski,” says Loki.

“He's deflecting,” you say to Mobius in an exaggerated whisper.

“I know,” he whispers back.

But you can’t help but notice that Loki’s eyes are brighter than normal.

“Okay, now get out of here,” says Mobius. “You’ve got a wedding to get to.”

Twenty minutes later, you’re wearing a simple white dress and standing with Loki in front of a time door, your hand clasped in his.

“Technically, we don’t have a supervisor’s approval for this,” you say with a wry smile.

He looks at you, eyes dancing with mirth. “I had Mobius sign off on the paperwork while you were getting ready.”

Your heart swells and your smile is so wide that you feel like your face might split in two. “Then hurry up and marry me, Laufeyson.”

He grins and tugs you through the time door.

-------

But wait! There's more: I don't have a masterlist for this, but if you enjoy these idiots, check out Daylight, a sort of sequel.

[buzzcat]

Fic Rec - Geneviève Nikiforova's Easy Guide on How to Get a Son-in-law, by @crossroadswrite

Fandom: Yuri!!! On Ice (Anime) Wordcount: 6,282 Tags: Victor Nikiforov's Extremely Good Gay Moms, attempted humor, Matchmaking, Meddling Moms, Different First Meetings, Pre-Canon, pre-sochi, Canon Divergence, Vicchan Lives, POV Outsider  Summary: “Are you into power tops, Vitya?” Instead of answering, Vitya chokes on his tea. “Mama!” “Well. Are you?” (Or: Local Dramatic Mom Makes Grindr Account to Find Her Son a Husband, What Happens Next Will Warm Your Heart.) Context for Newbies: Victor and Yuuri are professional ice skaters. Yuuri trains in America, and so is away from home (also known as Yu-topia, a hot springs resort in Hasetsu) for a long time. Victor’s moms are OCs, and also delightful. Note: fic contains scenes of drinking alcohol, in case anyone wants the heads-up

okay, first thing to note is that this fic is actually in a series called “Victor Nikiforov's Extremely Good Gay Moms“, and I would heartily recommend anything in that series. Geneviève and Victoria are just so much fun, Geneviève especially in this fic as the point of view character.

honestly, I love this fic so much just because it’s like eight of my favorite tropes all together. we’ve got a POV character that isn’t the main character from the show, we’ve got an ensemble cast, we’ve got happy families, we’ve got dogs, we’ve got two (two!!) pairs of queer character who are mindblowingly in love with each other. i’ve read this fic easily four or five times, and I love it so much each time because it’s so happy. Geneviève as a character just radiates happiness, so getting this story from her perspective lends a real joy to reading it, regardless of content.

if I had to pick something that makes this fic top-notch, aside from the fact it’s delightful and well-written and the dialogue all absolutely sparkles and I love it, it’s on the strength of these OCs. Geneviève and Victoria’s dynamic is quickly and easily established (seriously I’m rereading the fic now and there’s not a single interaction between that doesn’t tell you they’re ridiculously in love), and anyone familiar with YoI canon can clearly see how these two people would have a son like Victor. (also crossroadswrite is just a really great author, 10/10 would recommend, personally also a huge fan of her BNHA fic “fs in the chat and other forms of emotional support“)

Favorite Line: “We could skate together in the rink tomorrow,” Vitya offers.

“That’s nice,” Yuuri says, absentmindedly. He’s been speaking to Vitya with a certain dreamy quality to his voice. It is very cute. “I want to skate against you too, yes?”

“Yes,” Vitya says readily.

“I want to, ah, what’s- what’s the word? Hmm… I want to… destroy you. Gently.”

Geneviève can’t see what sort of face Yuuri is making, but Victor’s face goes uncharacteristically red, eyes wide.

[sweetlemontart]

what she doesn't know | na jaemin [M]

summary ⇾ the memory of your mother fucking a strange man in the same bed she had been sharing with your father is still fresh in your mind. disappointed and angry, you'll do whatever it takes to make her feel the hurt she caused you and your father. what better way to do that than to toy around with her new boyfriend, the young and striking na jaemin.

PAIRING // na jaemin x fem!reader

GENRE // mostly explicit smut, very little to no fluff at all, nonidol!au, ✨bitchy!mc✨, mum'sboyfriend!jaemin (if that's not for you, feel free to not read <3), all characters are of legal age

WARNING // 18+, explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, vaginal sex, fingering, breeding kink, degradation, slight choking, dirty talk, hair pulling, creampie, mentions of daddy kink, mentions of broken family, age gap, basically pwp, cheating, etc

WORD COUNT // 5.5k

AUTHOR'S NOTE // jaemin's not married to mc's mum so he isn't really mc's stepdad i guess, but if that's still not ur thing pls do feel free to just click away, this fic is pretty much self-indulgent and i actually had no plan to publish it at first but then i thought eh why let it rot in my drafts lol, i'm not completely happy with how this turned out but i'm so busy with uni rn and don't rlly have the time and energy to write something that's top-notch quality so, just enjoy <3

The sound of your mother's laughter jolts you awake, and you feel your dream slip away as you become more and more conscious of your surrounding. Another pitchy laugh is heard throughout the house, and you groan into your pillow, eyes feeling heavy as you pry them open.

You're still groggy and on the verge of falling back asleep. Unfortunately for you, school starts in under an hour, you've hit snooze on your alarm far too many times, and you can't afford to waste any more time lazing around in bed if you want to make it to class on time.

Washing up, you slip into your school uniform, consisting of a white blouse and a pleated skirt that does little to cover your thighs and ass. Your mother complains about it on a regular basis, but you can't find yourself to care when Jaemin is always secretly staring at your legs whenever you have them on.

He's never apparent about it, especially not in front of your mother, but you definitely notice it. You feel it more than you see it, really, the prickling of your skin and the pleasant shiver running up your spine whenever you're in the same room as him. When you look up at him to confirm your suspicions, you'll see his gaze is on you, flittering across your bare skin almost hungrily.

He's not afraid to lock eyes with you. In fact, you think he finds a twisted enjoyment in maintaining eye contact, as though he wants you to know what he's thinking. It's not hard to guess what's going through his head whenever he leers at you, and you'd be lying if you said you didn't enjoy his attention.

But that was weeks ago when your mutual attraction towards each other was still just that—an attraction that was evident to the both of you but not acted upon. Last weekend, though, that all changed.

When your mother had proposed spending the weekend at a luxurious beach house rental, it hadn't taken long for you to agree, especially when everything was going to be funded by Jaemin. He hadn't been on board with the idea, but all it took for him to agree was a single glimpse of the bright red bikini you had purposely laid out on your bed for him to see. You had left your door open that night, knowing Jaemin would have to pass your bedroom when he went down for dinner.

Needless to say, your plan worked and thus began the trip of your life where you and Jaemin proceeded to fuck like rabbits every chance you got. The red bikini never made it back home afterwards, having been chucked in the trash the first night of the trip after Jaemin ripped the underwear into two in his rush to pull it off of you.

"Oh, there you are! I was just about to send Jaemin up to fetch you." Your mother's shrill voice echoes through the vast space of the house as soon as she spots you at the landing of the stairs. "You do know you're graduating soon? You really should manage your time better and start waking up earlier."

She's in her work outfit already, faking a smile at you as though she's still trying to convince Jaemin that the both of you have no hostile feelings towards each other. No, you and your mother stopped being civil long before Jaemin came into the picture, particularly when you caught her under a strange man in the same bed she had been sharing with your father. How she got custody of you after the divorce is still beyond you until this day.

You scoff, unable to hide your disdain. "I'm obviously not late enough since you're still here."

She's glaring at you as you set your bag down on the kitchen island, and it's almost enough to sour your mood, but one glance at Jaemin by the fridge has your stomach flipping with giddiness. So that's the reason why your mother still hasn't gone to work yet. He's fiddling with the coffee maker, shirtless, clad only in a pair of grey sweatpants that hangs low on his hips. If he turns around, you're sure you'd be able to see the trail of dark hair leading down into his pants.

You ogle his back, for now, tuning out your mother's scolding as you appreciate the sight of his back muscles flexing whenever he moves. As though he senses your eyes on him, he turns his head just enough to look at you over his shoulder. He smiles, almost a little too innocently. "Good morning, princess."

Your mother starts reprimanding him for the nickname. She's insecure, you know, because it doesn't take rocket science to figure out that Jaemin could easily leave her and find another woman to date in a heartbeat, someone younger and better than your mother in every way possible.

It's only a matter of time until he finally decides to call it quits, but until then, you figure toying around with your mother's boyfriend isn't such a bad idea, especially when the man himself looks so divine and can fuck like a god. Somewhere deep in your heart, you want her to find out about you and Jaemin, want her to feel what your father had felt when he found out about her affair.

Your mother cusses as she glances down at the golden watch on her wrist. "I gotta go," she says, rushing around the counter to make her way to Jaemin.

Jaemin lets her embrace him, albeit rather reluctantly. He's looking at you expressionlessly as your mother presses herself into his chest. He's tired, you can tell. It won't be long until he breaks the news to your mother that he doesn't want her anymore.

You hope you'll be there to witness the scene or the aftermath at least. You want her to cry herself to sleep every night, questioning whether she will ever find somebody half as good as Jaemin. You want her to recall the life she had before the divorce and realise how perfect it could've been if she just didn't fuck up.

Your mother pulls back from the hug, smiling coyly up at Jaemin, who has a smile so obnoxiously fake it almost hurts for you to watch. "Don't miss me too much while I'm gone," she speaks before leaning closer to say something she obviously doesn't want you to hear. "Oh, I have a surprise for you tonight, so wait up for me, alright, baby?"

Your mother doesn't spare you a glance, pecking Jaemin's lips before strutting straight to the front door as if you don't exist. Jaemin doesn't wait until your mother is out of the house to wipe his mouth with the back of his hand.

You turn to watch her through the kitchen window, sneering when you see the wide grin on her face as she enters the car. "Gross. She's such a cougar. Why don't you just break up with her already?" You turn back to Jaemin, slightly taken aback once you see he's already looking at you from across the island, both palms on the marble countertop to support himself up and a cup of steaming coffee on the island in front of him. "Anyways, why aren't you at work yet?"

"I'm taking the day off."

His answer perks your interest. In your months of knowing Jaemin, you know him to be a workaholic, one who wouldn't skip work on a whim. Today's nothing special, just another regular Thursday... or is it?

"Taking the day off... why?"

"And how is that any of your business?"

"I'll tell the school my 32-year-old stepdad likes putting his dick in me if you don't tell me."

He snickers incredulously, and you can't help the fluttering of your stomach when you see him cock his eyebrow. "Then I'll tell them you were the one begging for it in the first place. Besides, I'm not your stepdad, so that's only going to make you look like a little whore, princess."

You slip down from the stool to make your way to him, narrowing your eyes when he turns to face you. He's smiling as you step closer.

Jaemin can feel his lower back digging into the edge of the counter, but he can't find himself to care when you're pressed up against him so deliciously in your tiny skirt and tight blouse. The smell of your perfume is making him dizzy, but he inhales harder anyway, wanting to memorise your smell so he can have something to think about when you're at school and he's left at home to tug at his cock by himself.

When you lean forward, Jaemin wraps his arms around your waist, pulling your hips flush to his. He glances down at the buttons of your blouse and the way the fabric between each button strains against the plump flesh of your breasts. He wants nothing more than to rip your shirt and hear the buttons fall onto the ground in loud clatters.

"Tell me, why today?" you ask, tilting your head up to brush your lips against his. You feel his hot breath fan across your mouth, slipping through your parted lips.

"Hm, put my dick in your mouth, and I might just tell you."

You chuckle before pulling your head back, enjoying the way he chases after your lips when you do. "I have class in 30 minutes, so unless you want to cum in your fist, I suggest you tell me now."

Jaemin sighs, manoeuvring one of his legs to rest between yours. The arms he has around you allow him to pull you even closer, and suddenly, you're all too aware of the thigh pressing right up against your heat. You're not sure whether your lace panties will be able to stop your slick from staining his pants.

"And if I tell you there isn't any reason?"

You scoff, starting to roll your hips forward against his thigh. "I wouldn't believe you."

Jaemin cups your cheeks in his hands, keeping you still as he leans forward. He's staring into your eyes as he lets his tongue slide through his lips, lightly flicking at your bottom lip.

Your breath catches in your throat, body heating up the more you lock eyes with him. His eyes are dark, pupils dilated with lust. "I don't have to tell you. You'll know soon enough," he mumbles against your lips.

"Well, I want to know now."

He glances to the side, and you follow his gaze. He's looking at the clock mounted on the wall, eyes narrowing as if he's debating something in his mind.

With a huff, you decide to take matters into your own hands, grabbing his hand on your waist to bring it under your skirt. Jaemin doesn't seem surprised at all when you guide his palm to cup you through your underwear. The feel of your wetness seeping through the fabric snaps something in him, and he kisses you hard.

You're panting into the kiss, lifting one of your legs so he can have better access to your heat. One of his fingers is effortlessly gliding back and forth against the outline of your slit.

Your knee digs into his hip when he suddenly applies pressure on your hole, prodding you through your underwear. "A-ah, Jaemin..."

He angles his head to press his lips against the spot underneath your ear, biting into the skin and smirking when he hears the pathetic whimper you let out.

He's tugging on the crotch of your panties, fully intent on dragging it to the side so he can touch you without anything blocking his way. You grab his wrist, halting his movement. "I know what you're fucking doing," you hiss accusingly as you lower your leg from his side. "Trying to distract me so I'd forget about the fact that you took the day off today? I know you've got something up your sleeve."

He clicks his tongue, seemingly disappointed as he tilts his head back to stare at the ceiling. "You just had to be a fucking brat this morning, huh?"

He doesn't give you a chance to reply, roughly gripping your hips and turning you around, bending you down on the counter beside the stove. Surprised at his sudden aggression, you yelp, ready to turn around and berate him for being so rough.

Slap!

"What the fuck!" you exclaim when you feel the prickling sting on your thigh from where he had struck you. You twist your neck to glare at him. The man has the audacity to ignore you, flipping your skirt over your ass and kneading it in his palm. "I don't have time for this, seriously—nghh!"

He cuts you off by taking hold of your ponytail and directing your forehead down to rest on the cold counter. In this angle, the crotch of your panties is digging painfully into your slit, but it only makes you ache for more.

You feel Jaemin lean forward, fingers still digging into your scalp, keeping your head in place. His hips are flush against your ass, hard bulge pressing into your clit so deliciously you feel as though you might burst with only a few rolls of his hips. His mouth brushes against your earlobe when he speaks, and the rasp in his voice makes your thighs squeeze tighter. "Keep your head down, you understand? I don't wanna see your face until I'm through with you."

Irritation bubbles in your chest at his words. "Why? Don't you like my face? Remember how many times you came all over it last weekend? You called me pretty when I had your balls in my mouth, remember?"

The grip in your hair only tightens, and you smile to yourself, feeling strangely proud at being able to vex him. Jaemin's not one to be bothered so easily. You revel in the fact that you're the only one that can push him so much his calm demeanour vanishes, replaced by a man eager to put you in your place.

Without another word, he drags your underwear down your legs, letting it settle around your knees. He lets go of your hair to lean back, presumably to get a better look at your drenched cunt. You're just about to lift your head from the counter when you feel his teeth sinking into the skin of your ass. "I meant what I said, princess, keep your head down until I tell you otherwise."

"Screw you," you snap, but obey him anyway. You have class in less than half an hour, and you can't afford for Jaemin to pull away now, not unless you want to get yourself off with your fingers in a grimy bathroom stall at school.

"Watch your fucking mouth," he mumbles before diving in and latching his mouth to your heat.

You cry out when he starts lapping at your core like a starved man. He's devouring you wholeheartedly, fervently delving his tongue into your hole as if he can't get enough of your taste.

You reach back with one hand, raking your fingers through his silky hair to guide him. He grunts, taking both of your wrists in his hand and pinning them to your back. "You're not allowed to touch me."

You scoff as your turn your head, letting the side of your head rest on the surface of the counter. "Why? Did I upset you? Do you want me to apologi—aghh... s-shit, shit!"

Jaemin has wrapped his mouth around your clit, sucking it harshly one second and lapping at it the next. Your toes are curling against the floor, back arching against the counter, overwhelmed by the sudden focus on your bundle of nerves.

Jaemin lets go of your wrists to grab at your ass with both of his hands, spreading you open even more. His eyes flutter shut, cock twitching in his sweatpants as he savours the bittersweet taste of your essence coating his tongue. He's still irritated at you, but he decides that he can deal with that later after he's satisfied with hearing the wanton sounds coming out of your mouth as he eats you out.

"Gonna cum for me, sweetheart?"

"P-please. We don't have time, just fuck me already!"

Jaemin knows you're right. If he wants to get his dick wet, he's going to have to hurry everything up so you can arrive at school on time or reasonably late, at least.

He groans lowly when he pulls away and sees the gossamer thread of your slick connected to his mouth. He parts your labia with two of his fingers, admiring the sight of your glistening pussy and swollen nub.

You're slightly mortified when you realise he's doing nothing but studying you so closely. "Hurry up. I don't have all day!" you snap.

Jaemin rises to his full height, sighing when he sees you hadn't followed his order of keeping your head down. Your eyes are twinkling wickedly up at him, daring him to stop now.

You know he wouldn't leave you hanging, not when you can literally feel his achingly hard cock poking at your upper thigh. "Fifteen minutes left, so you better get on with it," you say almost nonchalantly, but Jaemin is well aware that you would most definitely cry if he didn't fuck you any seconds now.

He clamps a hand on your jaw, hauling your body off the counter and pulling your back to his bare torso. "Plenty of time for me to put you in your place, don't you think?"

The tip of his nose drags across the nape of your neck, breathing in the sweet perfume lingering on your soft skin. Your inner thighs are drenched with your wetness, and the sticky feeling have you arching your ass against his front. "You think you have the upper hand just because you're my stepdad. This is my house, Jaemin, you're just a stranger here."

He growls, frantically pulling his sweatpants down his legs and pushing into you without any warning. You're wet enough to take him, but the sudden intrusion still burns and has you scrambling to grab hold of the edge of the cabinet above you. Your jaw falls slack as he sinks deeper and deeper until you can feel the blunt head of his cock kiss your cervix.

You cry out, reaching back with your free hand to splay your hand against his stomach, digging your nails into his skin to indicate to him that you still need to adjust.

"I'm not your fucking stepdad and I never will be, you hear me?" he mutters against your neck, the combination of his breath against your skin and his cock buried inside you making you feel delirious. "And this isn't your house, it's your mother's. Don't act like you're better than me when you're the one lazing around in bed all day, waiting for your holes to be filled by my cock like the little whore you are."

Jaemin would feel guilty of ramming himself into you so abruptly, but the way your velvet walls are pulsing around him tells him that you're enjoying this more than you let on.

You grin when he starts to move his hips, sticking to shallow thrusts to let you accommodate to his size. "What? You don't wanna be my stepdad?"

Jaemin moves his grip down to your chest, cupping your breast through your blouse as you start to grind back into him, meeting his thrusts halfway. "Not if it means I'll be married to your mother," he manages to answer.

You whine when Jaemin starts leaving open-mouthed kisses on your neck. He reaches down, pushing your panties down from your knees before propping one of your legs up on the counter. "F-Fuck, right there, Jaemin..."

He's grunting as he settles his hand on your waist, controlling your movement. The sound of skin slapping against skin is audible throughout the house, but neither you nor Jaemin care because for the first time since you started fucking each other, there's no chance of your mother walking in on the two of you.

"Should I cum inside, hm? Should I fill your tiny pussy up and have you walk around school with my cum leaking onto your underwear?" Jaemin growls when he feels you clench around him almost painfully.

Your leg buckles at his words, but he's quick to wrap his arm around you to keep you flushed to him. You're holding onto the arm circled around your waist for dear life, moans and whines tumbling out of your mouth before you can stop them. Jaemin feels so good, too good. The coil in your stomach is tightening rapidly. "Y-You want to fill me up?" You stutter, sinking your teeth into your lower lip as you twist around to lock eyes with him.

Jaemin's thrusts falter when he catches your eyes, half-lidded and looking up at him almost desperately. "I do. Wanna fuck you full of my cum." He doesn't waste a second before bringing his lips to yours, an excuse to close his eyes so he wouldn't have to look at your lecherous expression and cum too soon.

He's swirling his tongue around yours, not caring that spit is starting to gather at the corners of his mouth. Your grip on the cabinet in front of you tightens when Jaemin starts imitating sex with his tongue, plunging the wet muscle in and out of your mouth as if he's fucking your mouth with his cock.

His breathing is ragged when he pulls away from the kiss. He peers down to watch his length disappear in and out of you. His strokes are hard and fast, with the obvious intent to make himself cum quicker so you can go to school. He's running out of time, and he needs to do something about it fast.

The hand on your waist glides down to your lower stomach, fingers inching closer towards the spot between your legs. When his index finger finally brushes against your clit, you jolt in his hold, mewling brokenly. Jaemin grunts when you tighten around his dick. At this rate, he'll cum in less than a minute.

"J-Jaemin—please, gonna cum... gonna cum..."

"Hold it. You're not allowed to cum until I say so."

You whine in protest, heart pounding in your ears. "We don't have—ughh—time for this. Let me cum already!"

The slap he delivers to your clit almost sends you reeling into your orgasm, but you manage to hold it back by controlling your breathing.

"I told you to keep your head down, so why didn't you?"

You feel light-headed at the sound of Jaemin's gruff voice. His voice seems to resonate through you, reverberating through your body and making your eyes roll back in bliss.

"Answer my question, and I might let you cum."

"Because you're no one... you don't get to tell me what to do."

Another slap to your clit is delivered, causing you to cry out. "I'm very tempted to leave you here to cum by yourself."

"I've answered your question like you wanted me to." You rush through your words, painfully aware that your orgasm is only seconds away.

"Apologise and I'll let you cum."

You shake your head, tears pricking your eyes the more you try to hold out. You won't give him the satisfaction of your apology, but you're unsure of the consequences if you do decide to let yourself cum without his permission. What's the worst he can do?

As though he senses what you're thinking of, he stops the motion of his hips. You can feel your orgasm slipping away bit by bit as he stays unmoving, and you whine in protest, circling your hips by yourself, hoping it's enough to make you cum. Your movement is limited, though. With the counter in front of your waist, you're unable to move forward too much, and you realise with a sinking feeling that you're never going to cum at this rate.

Jaemin chuckles as you turn your head to face him, eyes narrowed into slits as you glare at him. "I said, apologise."

"Just move already."

His smile drops, and he makes a move to pull out of you. Panicked, you reach back to grab at his waist, preventing him from pulling himself out. The tip of his cock is just resting against your hole, ready to slip back in at the slightest movement of his hips.

"Please, please, just fuck me," you beg with pleading eyes, the epitome of innocence and desperation.

Jaemin sees right through it. "I said apologise, princess, not beg."

You're determined not to comply with his request, but your resolve is breaking the more you look into his eyes. All it takes is one word for Jaemin to continue, but is it worth it? Would you rather keep your dignity or lose it for a chance to cum around his perfect cock?

He applies the slightest pressure on your clit with his fingertip, kickstarting your brain. The pretty smirk on his lips is all it takes for you to break. "Please, I'm sorry, Jaemin, I need to cum, please."

"Hm? What was that? You're sorry, are you?"

You nod, eyes fluttering shut when you feel him slide deeper into you. But it's not enough. You need more, all of him. "Please, make me cum, please. I'm sorry."

Fortunately, Jaemin takes mercy on you, although he lets you know he's far from happy with your answer by pinching your clit between two fingers. "You're lucky I'm feeling especially nice this morning."

He bottoms out in one thrust, burying his whole length without faltering once. The sudden fullness feels euphoric, and your orgasm doesn't feel so out of reach anymore as Jaemin's thrusts become wilder, harder, almost violent.

"That's right, princess. You gonna cum like a good girl for me?"

"Y-Yes, god, yes, gonna cum..."

He's circling two of his fingers on your bundle of nerves frantically, relishing the wanton sounds spilling out of your mouth. It sounds like music to his ears. "Then cum, princess. Cum all over my cock."

He feels you stiffen against him, going completely rigid as you throw your head back to rest it on his shoulder. Your pussy becomes impossibly tight as you arch forward, raising onto your tiptoes as your orgasm washes over you.

Your mouth drops open in a silent moan as the pleasure sweeps through your body. The feeling is exhilarating, and it leaves you in a state of shock even after you've finally come down from your high, still gasping for breath.

Your limbs feel weak as Jaemin kisses your temple and turns you around so that you're facing him. He makes sure to remove the panties from around your ankle before lifting you onto the counter and slipping himself back inside, immediately resuming his brutal pace from before.

You're still trying to come down from your high as you lean your head back on the cabinet, watching him through half-lidded eyes. You feel overstimulated as he continues to use you, balls slapping against your puffy folds.

His gaze is locked onto your sex, eyeing the way your plump pussy so wonderfully stretches around him whenever he dips into you. Perspiration run down his slender neck and flushed chest, but that doesn't stop him from pounding into you relentlessly.

You cup his cheeks in your hands, digging your nails into his skin to gain his attention. When he looks back up at you, you flash him a dazed smile. "You wanted to cum in me, right?"

At your question, Jaemin's eyes flutter shut as he shudders. He doesn't reply, only taking both of your calves in his hands to hold you steady as he chases his high.

Tilting your head, you let your lips skim his just barely. You grin when he attempts to kiss you. You've got him right where you want him. "Five minutes left, Jaemin. You gotta cum soon, or I'm leaving you here with blue balls."

"Yeah? Maybe if you had just shut the fuck up and listened to me, I would've cum sooner."

You pout mockingly up at him. "That's an awfully mean thing to say to your stepdaughter."

One of his hands immediately fastens around your neck, squeezing just enough for your heartbeat to pick up. "You seem to like thinking I'm your stepdad, princess. Is it your daddy issues talking? You still mad at mummy because she made your daddy go away?"

You gasp when Jaemin suddenly buries himself as deep as he can into you, taut balls pressed against your ass. Your slick soaks his pelvis completely as he stays unmoving. "We both know you're the one getting off to the thought of fucking your stepdaughter," you say between breaths.

Jaemin knows he'll cum soon. He starts moving his hips again, choosing to thrust shallowly this time, pulling his cock out only a few inches before pushing forward into your warmth again.

"Look at me," you demand. "You like fucking me like this? Like fucking your stepdaughter?"

His whole frame is shaking. The hair on the back of his neck stands straight up when he comprehends what you said. He doesn't expect the sudden surge of electricity that courses through his entire body. He doesn't want to admit it, but he thinks you've awakened something inside of him he hadn't noticed about himself before.

"Wanna fuck your stepdaughter full of cum, Jaemin? It feels dirty but so right at the same time, doesn't it? Fucking your stepdaughter shouldn't feel this good, right?"

He swallows hard, grunts ripping through his chest as he nears the edge. His stomach and thighs are tensing up. "S-Shut the fuck up."

"It doesn't seem like you want me to stop talking. Just cum in me, Jaemin. Pump your stepdaughter full of your seed."

He lets go of your neck and calf to wrap his arms around your waist, hugging you close to him. You rake your fingers down his naked back, hoping your mother will see the scratches on his skin and start questioning Jaemin's loyalty. There's something so satisfying about the fact that you will be the last person she has in mind when she starts pondering about who had left the marks on his back.

"Fuck, s-so close," he grumbles through clenched jaws. He's mumbling a mixture of curse words and your name under his breath, balls throbbing and aching for release.

"Cum inside me..." you trail off, turning your head to place your mouth right beside his ear. "Daddy..."

That does it. Jaemin growls as he comes undone, coating your walls white with thick spurts of his milky cum. You can't help but moan along with him, feeling so impossibly full as he fills you to the brim, some dripping out onto the floor when he finally pulls out of you.

"Shit..." Jaemin pants, breathless as he swipes two fingers through your slit, causing your hips to jerk up instinctively. He snickers, bringing the same fingers up into his mouth, tasting both his and your cum.

You scrunch your nose in disgust, pushing him by the chest and dropping down from the counter. Jaemin's pulling up his sweatpants as he watches you waddle to the bathroom, presumably to pee and clean yourself up.

You return a minute later. "Shit, I'm fucking late. Couldn't you have cum quicker? Seriously, I should've called you daddy sooner," you grumble as you grab your bag from the kitchen island, slinging it over your shoulder.

Jaemin grabs your underwear from the floor, handing it to you for you to put back on. "Just tell the school your car broke down on the way there."

"Or I could just tell them my stepdad couldn't cum fast enough."

Jaemin's footsteps are loud as he follows you to the front door. "For fuck's sake, I'm not your fucking stepd—"

"I get it, Jaemin, you're just dating my mum."

Jaemin nods, satisfied with your answer. "Right, but not for long."

You freeze in your tracks, turning to look at Jaemin standing on the porch with his phone in his hands, typing away on the keyboard. "What's that supposed to mean? Are you finally breaking up with her?"

He smirks, eyes still trained onto his phone screen. "I took the day off to pack my stuff up. I'm moving out this afternoon."

"Are you going back to your old apartment?"

"Why do you want to know? Scared you're going to miss me?"

"No, I'm hoping my mum will track you down and strangle you to death."

Ding!

"Check your phone," he remarks.

You reach for your phone in the front pouch of your bag, fishing it out and checking the new notification. "What did you send me? Whose address is this?"

"It's my new apartment. But please, for the love of God, don't tell your mother my new address." He turns to walk back into the house but stops abruptly, turning back to you once more. "You know where to find me if you ever need... anything." With that, he turns back around and enters the house.

Oh, shit.

[jerzwriter]

Choices Fandom Appreciation Countdown to 2022 - Day 1

I'm so glad that the rules said the more the merrier and four is not the limit, because there are many that I want to give a shout out to for making my 2021 brighter. This is long, but each of you deserves recognition and brevity will never be my strong suit. 😊

@a-crepusculo GIRL! You have made me laugh, thirst, and cry this year. Whenever you doubt yourself I want to hop a flight and tell knock some sense into you because you are amazing and I cannot wait to see what you are going to accomplish next. It's a blessing to have you in my life and not just because of your writing! 🐑💕

@alwaysmychoices OK, so I have fangirled and gushed enough, and you still haven't gotten a restraining order on me, so I guess once more will not hurt. Charlie is one of my all-time favorite MC's and your balance of angst, fluff, and smut is just... chef's kiss. You are always willing to "go there" so I never know what to expect and that makes your writing so enjoyable. With and WIthout will forever be a favorite. I think I will be distraught when it ends. Thank you! 🌟

@anonymousrookie I've only recently become acquainted with your writing, and I'm glad I did. Your Walk Above the City was just the Christmas cheer I needed this year. 🎄

@bex-la-get I adore you for so many reasons! But when I think back on writing in 2021, I will always remember the mutual angst that bonded us, to begin with. I don't even have to say what it is. You, and your writing, are gifts to me and all who know you! 🐑💕

@choiceskatie - hey, girl? Do I really even need to say anything? lol I'm still just pleased you didn't call the authorities to say you had a crazy stalker on your hands! lol Almost is Never Enough will forever be a favorite. I may have read it 250 times. But that's just me (actually, no it's not). You are like 50% responsible for my Tobias obsession. lol Thank you. 💕

@coffeeheartaddict2 watching your Bloom takedown and re-examination of all PB left behind in canon has been a delight, almost, but never as much as our conversations. 💕

@danijimenezv my sweet friend! I know you feel like you haven't done enough this year, but I'm here to tell you that it is quality, not quantity, that counts and you have delivered there. I have loved getting to know Jill and I can't wait to do more when you can. Right now you have much more important things going on and I am in awe of all you are doing. Your heart and compassion are an example to all (and keep the tea coming girl!) 🐑💕

@dr-colossal-pita now, you know that I love/hate you for No More I Love You's lol. But truly, when I look back at the year in fanfic, this will always be one of the first things that comes to my mind, and not just because it cost me as much in Kleenex as it did in therapists copays! 😊

@genevievemd my sweet, sweet girl! You bring so much love and happiness to this little kingdom (you know who is king...) of ours and, getting to know you, I now understand how. You put so much of yourself into Gen, you have the same sweet, beautiful soul and then you're kind enough to share it with all of us. In this world, there will always be people who want to dull that beautiful shine, but I know you will never let them (and we won't let you). Thank you for all the joy you bring, even when it feels so hard to do (especially then!) 🐑💕

@gryffindordaughterofathena I was introduced to your work this your writing this year through your Five Stages of Grief series which was masterful! How you were able to convey such profound emotion in so few words, I'm still speechless! Thank you for sharing your gift! 😊

@heauxplesslydevoted I adore your writing. It is top-notch and keeps me on the edge of my seat waiting for what comes next. Now, it' blows my mind that when I look at 2021 it's not an E/N fic that is first in my mind (because they're all great), but I think Lost Cherry may have changed me, and not just because I love the fragrance. Thank you for sharing with us! 🔥💕

@jamespotterthefirst where do I even start with you, twisted sister? God put us on opposite coasts for a reason, one coast couldn't handle the insanity. lol You are such a bright, shining star and you give such energy to our fandom, to those who know you and, most certainly, to me. Thank you, amiga, for all you do. I don't think I express it often enough. 6 months later this little fandom is still going, and you are a big reason why. As for your works, Your Biggest Fan is 2021. Pic your fave running GIF to represent me when I see a new chapter is up. Thank you Bree, just for being you. 🐑💕

@josiesopenheart on top of many other things, I love our mutual thirsting over dear Jesse. lol It's always good to have a partner in such things. This year The Way I Loved You stands out, and I can't wait to see where it goes from here.

@kachrisberry Little Sis!! You put your toe in the pond and I love, love, love it. I think collabing with you on Their Plus One was the highlight of the writing year, and I don't know if my bro-in-law has recovered yet. You, my friend, are a gift in every way. 💕💕

@kat-tia801 when I think of the year in fanfic Happier will always come to mind. It was so tragically beautiful. Of course, even though not sequential, Change did heal me a little. Your writing is captivating and I'm always so happy to see a tag from you. I am looking forward to all that is yet to come! 😊

@liaromancewriter Mal. Mal, Mal, Mal. Where to begin? First, I am grateful for your very existence in so, so many ways, including for giving us all a beautiful, happy, soft space to land... particularly after I leave readers on the edge, I like knowing they have your blog to land safely on... hell, I'm glad I HAVE your blog to land safely on. I want to pick one of your works to highlight this year, and I can't because I truly adore everything you write. But I am sharing your Maxenna masterlist because, though E/C are always going to be my OG's, the work you have done creating this couple this year has been a joy to watch. I can't wait to see what you deliver in 2022! 🐑💕

@lucy-268 I will always be grateful to this silly little world for bringing us together! You are such a joy to know, and that joy comes through in your writing... I can't explain it... but it's like the essence of you is in there. You know I'm obsessed with Sami & Tobias, I adore Charley & Ethan, and I NEED to get acquainted with Bryce & Maggie. Our Tobias bond though, girl, that is SPECIAL. Secrets, for the smirkiness (is that a word?) and This Christmas for all the warm feels are two of my favorite fics this year. And I can't wait for the next part... (EEEK). Lastly, there is no one that I'd rather work with on CFWC, seriously, it's like a dream partnership. You are the BEST Kathy! The best (and you even accept my weirdness!) 🐑💕

@potionsprefect when I found out how old you were I said "Nah, cannot possibly be." You bring so much depth, character and emotion to your writing, you remind me of a certain musical artist I adore (do I have to say her name?) who blew me away with her understanding of human emotion so much sooner than most do. You're right there love. I love your work, I'm always so happy to see your tags. You're an incredible writer and an incredible person and my 2021 was much brighter because you were in it, kid sis. 🐑💕

@sillydg I am so proud of you for taking the leap into writing this year! I have your works shared in my 82 (no lie, 82) drafts to catch up on, and I'm praying for time this week. Thanks for being my horny jail partner! 😏

@takeharryandgo I loved your writing from afar before I officially joined this crazy place, and even more since. The Competition is bringing me such joy! I love what you are doing and get so excited when I see my notifications. Thank you so much for bringing this story to us! (even though I know my boy is getting dissed lol) 😊

@txemrn My sweet girl! You are like the trifecta - you're a freaking phenomenal writer, an ever-enthusiastic coach/cheerleader, and an amazing person/friend all rolled up into one. This year you go and introduce me to peach boy, forever changing the way I feel when I'm in the produce aisle, to boot! You know you have me captivated with Ricochet, I'm tagging part 2 here, but seriously, it's all just... oooff. You have me OK with Ethan being with someone other than MC. Do you know what that takes? In fact, I'm not OK, I LOVE them. And girl, your Tobias is 😏 (even if he is a snake). Thanks, Em... just for existing, OK? 💕

@the-pale-goddess your writing is always so provocative in every way, and I just stan Tiffany! While I may not have yet recovered from Scar Tissue, but it was well worth the pain. 😊

@utterlyinevitable Dom! You know how much I adore your writing. You see every aspect of a story and embrace it all, the good, the bad... it brings such depth to your writing and I adore it. If my descriptive writing is ever 1/10th of what yours is, I will consider myself a success. This year, your Just Two People series blew me away and deserves an honorable mention here. Also, THANK YOU for all that you do for the fandom, it is so appreciated. 💕

@writer-ish I only became acquainted with Brooke this year... and... OMG. Is she one smart, badass, firecracker, and I love her! More than that, the way you convey the tenderness and playfulness of their relationship, OK, so you're one of the people that give me imposter syndrome, but I still love you. And not just because you're a Greek sister. lol Thank you Kat, for sharing your talent with us. We're not worthy. 🐑💕

I also want to send honorable mentions out to @mm2305, @satrangee-ray, @monsoonblooms12, @lem-20 and @lsvdw-blog. Each of you have also had works that touched me, made me think, or made me smile this year and I thank you.

I know I'm forgetting people who have written work that touched me this year, and if you know me, these are the things that keep me up at night! But to all the creators in our fandom, thank you for all you do!

Special shout out to @choicesfandomappreciation and the magic behind it @storyofmychoices. You are truly inspirational!

[twopoppies]

[Submission]

Raleigh Concert Report!

Hi Gina -

Thank you for all of your wonderful fic recs & posts. I thought I would send in a concert report!

I was, admittedly a little bit nervous about going this go around since there had been a lot of chatter about the crowds at the concerts and how different they are from the first tour. It is true! The crowds are different. Lots of people were very dressed up. I have never seen so many cowboy hats outside of a country concert. Many Boas as well, LOL.  there were feathers all over the place. I did not encounter any rude people. Maybe it’s just where I was but all of the little groups of dressed up girls seemed to keep to themselves. It seemed like everybody was just dressed up and going and getting ready to have fun. I found everyone to be extremely polite. In line for merch, in line for food, when scooting in and out of the rows. Everybody was just kind.  that was definitely a relief!

Now, Harry! He was the happiest little jumping bean. I was also nervous that he was going to be grumpy but he seemed like he was in an absolutely great mood. Smiling and laughing and genuinely enjoying himself. There was not quite as much fan interaction in terms of talking like there are sometimes is but he seemed like he was having a good time. I cannot believe how much energy he has. He must be in phenomenal shape because he did not stop moving the entire 90 minutes. It would be like running a half marathon while singing on pitch.

Speaking of singing - his voice is so incredible right now. The falsetto in Sign of the Times was so pure and lovely. I am just amazed. His voice is so much stronger than it was for the first tour. It seems like he has worked so hard on it and it has paid off. Kudos to the sound people who make it possible for us to actually hear his voice over everybody singing. I think the sound is definitely improved over the previous tour. And the big monitors had wonderful video of good quality. I was torn the whole time between watching him jump around and watching him on the video screens. You see so many more of his little expressions and funny things if you watch some of the time on the screen. it is really fantastic to watch him dancing. And just having fun.

Carolina is not my favorite song but oh my gosh it was really fun to hear him sing it in North Carolina and more fun with how hard the crowd went for it. The entire stadium was shaking. The floor was shaking. It was bananas. it was really special to be in a room with everyone having so much fun. You could tell that we had all waited a long time for this, including Harry, and that we all wanted to have the most wonderful time.

Before the show started I was thinking about how I have some tickets for the Halloween shows and they seem very close together with this one. But I’m really glad I’m gonna go to those and I’m glad I went to this one. Each one of these shows even though he plays the same Setlist pretty much, is an opportunity for new interactions in new things to happen and new little expressions and new funny pictures. Even with the same set list and not a whole lot of variation in outfits, every night is different. It might not seem different to people watching it on live streams. I have watched several live streams (thank you live streamers!) I think it’s important for all of us to remember that he’s putting on a fantastic show for the people that are in the room with him. He’s not putting on a show for all of us at home. Sure, we can enjoy it from home, but it’s really a phenomenal experience in person.

It must be completely exhausting for him and the crew to do this right now. I know that they have a very strict Covid protocols. I know that they are being very careful. What I got to witness was such a class act top-notch performance that everybody involved took extremely seriously. The band was wonderful, Harry was wonderful, and the crew did an amazing job setting up a big operation.

We should all pray for each other when it is time to buy tickets for the next tour because I think it’s going to be a bloodbath. His shows are not to be missed and I feel pretty lucky to be able to go to them and be alive at the same time as Harry.



----

I literally have NO idea how I missed this, sweetheart. I'm so sorry! I swear things go missing in my inbox sometimes. I'm so glad you have a blast and I hope you had fun at Harryween, too! I am absolutely NOT looking forward to trying to buy tickets for whenever he tours for HS3. It will be The Hunger Games for absolute sure.

[taestefully-in-luv]

anon who had to re-read the chapter is back! and I'm on my laptop now to TYPE a lot of things lol

FIRST OF ALL, thank you so much for writing and finishing Love Again!!! Not a jab in any way to writers who weren't able to finish their works (I swear I understand them) but it's just so uncommon to me to find GREAT fics that interest me so much and are completed. In the end, fics are free and we have a lot of things going on in life so for me it's not a big problem at all 😆

I'm a silent reader (I'M SORRY) so I have to say now that I'll re-read the whole story for a minimum of 2 times and I hope you know your works are such a gem that people want to re-read them! If not the first, I think your works are one of the firsts I've read here on tumblr after kinda migrating from ao3 AND MAN did you make me stay here on tumblr! 

I started Love Again I think when you were just on the 2nd chapter?? I'm not sure but looking back wow that's a long time I guess? And I just want to say THANK YOU really for the wonderful work. It made me feel a lot of things and realize a lot of things too! The story is very unique for me and your writing style is just so impeccable 😭 I swear like if you were to publish content, I WILL buy them. Seriously running out of words here to describe how great you write and how easy it is to read AND FEEL but the quality is just top notch like??? You're amazing!!

I can't recall a lot from the previous chapters lol but I swear I always had a great time reading. Because it's the most recent, let me talk about the final chapter and just WOW -- you didn't lie with it tying up ends. I also love how everyone had their scenes but I kinda wished there were more y/n & Jimin moments. THOUGH I know that is just self-indulgent lmao because everything aligns and makes perfect sense already but as you said there will be drabbles so please know that we will be here for them 🥰

I was so on edge with Jimin being sus in chapter 14 like I was ready to expect an exes to exes ending lol but it made so much sense. I also recently finished therapy sessions and I guess the last chapter also made me feel seen in some way that therapy doesn't make you weak but it makes you really have brighter days without disregarding the not so good things that happened in the past hehe.

I don't have a line yet from LA that sticks with me (let me insert again my favorite thing you did in red wherein the meaning of the color red became good at the ending 😭 pls my heart), maybe it's the sepanx lol but please know that I'll always ALWAYS remember and cherish this story! Like a favorite book! Everything I didn't know I'd like in a book is here hehe

That's all for now I guess lol. I'm in anon but you'll always have me following this blog and appreciating all your works! I also always hope that you're doing great or okay! Always take care 💜

[sarahjtv]

BNHA Chapter 322 Spoiler Analysis: Bakugo’s Growth

Oh my god is this real life?  Am I reading Horikoshi’s AO3 fics?  I don’t drink or do drugs, so yesterday felt like a goddamn fever dream.  An incredible one at that.  Seriously, this might be one of my favorite chapters in the series for Bakugo’s moment alone.  I’m probably going to backtrack that later on if Horikoshi keeps this high quality up, but I’m cool with that.  This series has just been so damn good and it keeps getting better.  So, let’s go:

I’m going to get the smaller stuff out of the way first because I really want to focus on Bakugo’s apology this time because that’s the main course:

I love that Kirishima got something to do and say this chapter.  He was right there on the ground ready to catch Iida and Deku when they fell.  And he’s probably one of the more physically stronger kids in the class + his Hardening so Kirishima was a good choice to have on standby. Also, him realizing that Deku was the kid who tried to save Bakugo from the sludge villain at the beginning of the series was a good callback because Deku inadvertently inspired Kirishima to become the hero he is now.

Thirteen actually shows her face since her helmet was damaged in the war and WOW SHE’S PRETTY 😳 That was not on my bingo card, but I will take it happily!

Then there’s Ochako who grabs Deku’s hand to tell him it’s ok and that he doesn’t have to leave again after he, well, tries to leave again.  It’s really cute and feels like a resolution of some sorts of their feelings for each other.  Not a conclusion, but it feels like Horikoshi is wrapping things up.  I don’t know how deep Horikoshi’s going to go into Ochako and Deku romantically, but I like that it’s told subtlety.  And it looks like the next chapter will have Ochako do something cool, so I’m excited to see that.  

THAT UA BARRIER IS MASSIVE DEAR LORD!  And apparently it can do even more than that.  LIKE DOES IT HAVE GUNS TOO?  Hakgakure says it connects to Shiketsu too, so maybe we might see Inasa, Shishikura (Meatball boy), and Camie again.

Also, Hagakure and Aoyama didn’t do anything though during the VS. Deku fight, so take that as you will.

Also Bakugo’s suddenly not featured at the end of the chapter, which is weird.  

NOW BAKUGO OH MY GOD:

I really thought that we would have a Deku Vs. Kacchan Part 3 to be honest.  I really thought we would.  But no.  We got an honest-to-god heart-to-heart between these two boys.  And really, this is probably the best way to go about it.  Maybe we’ll get some D VS. K Prt. 3 one day because there might be more to be said, but if this is how their friendship is truly mended, I’m cool with a 2-parter.

So, Bakugo basically lays EVERYTHING out on the table.  How he’s felt like Deku’s always ahead of him, how frustrated he was, how scared he was, how insecure he was, and more beyond the surface.  Ultimately, he apologizes for everything.  He apologizes for over A DECADE of bullying.  He even bows to Deku.  He can barley look at Deku in the eye for the most part.  This is not the same Bakugo from the beginning of the series.  This is Katsuki Bakugo: a young man who took a long, harsh look in the mirror, learned from his flaws, decided to save the kid he bullied, and became a better person all because of it.

Bakugo also tells Deku that even though Deku did nothing wrong in going down this path, Deku needs him and his friends now.  Deku can’t do this on his own anymore.  Bakugo says him and the other will carry the burden with Deku.  Save to Win and Win to Save 😭.

What I find interesting here is that in this part of his speech, Bakugo says that he and everyone else will carry Deku’s burden with him “In order to surpass All Might”.  Bakugo’s ultimate goal has always been to surpass All Might and become the No. 1 Hero.  That’s been established from the very beginning.  And now, Bakugo will surpass All Might with his friends by his side.  That’s growth, my dudes 🧡

Visually, this whole thing is done so beautifully!  Just the way everyone is drawn and the expressions on the other student’s faces are really well done.  Everyone’s either in shock or in awe of what they’re hearing coming out of Bakugo’s mouth.  This is a side Bakugo hasn’t really shown anyone before (besides Deku, of course).  The reaction that spoke most to me is actually Shoto’s 💙.   He gets like 1 panel this chapter, but his face isn’t really in either shock or awe.  It’s kinda unreadable, but I think ultimately it’s like an “I get it” sort of expression.  Because Bakugo and Endeavor are so much alike.  Shoto knows what it’s like to have someone in their life trying to atone for their actions.  He gets it.  Maybe, one day, Endeavor and Shoto can get there too.

This might be my favorite part of the chapter: During Bakugo’s apology, Horikoshi draws Deku and Bakugo as heroes, then kids, then as middle schoolers, then in their UA uniforms, and finally back in their hero costumes.  Each time, Bakugo and Deku are framed face-to-face with Bakugo talking and Deku just staring in disbelief and awe like he’s trying to process what Bakugo’s saying.  It isn’t until the final one when Bakugo and Deku finally meet eye-to-eye and you can see some light come back to Deku’s eyes.  And finally Bakugo bows and apologize, even calling Izuku by name 😭💚🧡  It’s just so beautifully paneled and drawn.  In the span of a few pages, Horikoshi manages to take us through Bakugo and Deku’s childhoods of conflict and insecurity to their heroic selves in present day.  It’s like a quick recap of everything Bakugo and Deku have been through over the course of the series.  Because even though My Hero Academia is ultimately Deku’s story, it’s Bakugo’s story too (which a little Shoto on the side).  This feels like the culmination of their entire relationship and it’ll only get stronger from here too.

Lastly, as Deku is about to apologize for saying “You can’t keep up” because he realized his friends are actually ahead of him, he starts to pass out and BAKUGO RUNS UP TO CATCH HIM AS DEKU FALLS 🧡💚😭  WE DON’T EVEN SEE BAKUGO’S EYES HE JUST SAYS “WE KNOW” LIKE IS BAKUGO CRYING HORIKOSHI PLEASE!!!!!  BAKUDEKU’S HOW WE FEELING??? 💥🥦

But for real, this is as close to a hug between these two as we’re probably going to get.  There’s something so profound about this.  Bakugo has been trying to push Deku away since the beginning.  He even wanted to keep Deku at arm’s length so he can be protected even from Bakugo himself.  And how these two are together again.  No more pushing away.  

Honestly, I loved this chapter 10/10!  Peak character development, peak storytelling, peak fucking fiction!  It does feel like we’re coming to a conclusion soon with the series.  Ochako is accepting her feeling towards Deku more, Deku’s coming back to UA where the final battle will most likely take place, and Bakugo and Deku have mended their relationship as far as we know.  Again, I would like to see a Part 3 to their ongoing fights, but I’m cool if this is where their conflict ends.  It was really, really beautiful.  Horikoshi’s writing has been top-notch with Bakugo and Deku.  God, I’m truly going to miss this series when it’s done.

Me thoughtout the entiretly of Bakugo’s Apology:  

[lalunanymph]

Beautiful Dawn how r u? Hope you're all well rested. Take a break if you can sweetie baby. Just sending you love love and more love. Baby girl, I'm curious to know what's your all time favourite books, especially the ones that really really inspire you to write and keep writing? Your go to genre perhaps, I always imagine you as that person who surround your room with shelves filled with your favourite books, all cozy, wrapped in your fluffiest blanket, reading and perhaps there's a table right next to you with a cup of tea. If I could i wanted that access to that library of yours because baby girl, your words in your fic are god tier. I love you and your works so much!! Mwahh.😘 ❤️💞.

henlo bby!! yes i am resting rn as much as i can before i return to capitalism ajsjdjdj (im also in the countryside rn which is doing wonders for my mental health 😭😭) ooooo that’s such a great question & omg i love talking about books plus you’re so spot on with that desc it’s like you’re living in my room bc i cuddle up with books, a blanket and a cup of tea all the time ;___;

def my fave ones are dystopian or romances ansjs dystopian romances?? it just hits all the angst and mutual pining for me. i really recommend this one book call these violent delights by chloe gong that i’m reading now + basically anything from f.scott fitzgerald, angela carter & madeline miller cause those are my fave authors whose works are v dear to me :’) you could start out with tender is the night (fitzgerald) and nights at the circus (carter) bc their prose is top notch and always makes me want to write better. also!! circe’s prose was partly what inspired the last few acts of bewitched bc it had such an enchanting quality to it <333 but any media you consume can be the basis of working on your writing as long as it fits how you want to convey a story :3

[twstsimping77]

My asks are open for Twisted Wonderland headcanons and fanfics!!

I've never done this before, so please bear with me, but I'm now taking requests for Twisted Wonderland headcanons for any characters besides Sebek Zigvolt & Rook Hunt, as they are trigger characters for me. Feel free to ask for headcanons!

As for fanfics, Let me know how long you want it (I don't really do word counts) so I can tell you how long it'll take to write! (Ex. Long, medium, short) I know it'll at least be a couple days for fics, head cannons should come out quicker though.

RULES:

•I reserve the right to refuse or delete asks or commissions requests if I feel the need to do so, for any reason. I'll usually let you know if I do.

• If you request something and more than a week goes by, you can ask what's happened, or when it will be done.

• Please be civil. You're allowed to ask for 'cursed' or 'crazy' things, but please remain (mostly) human.

•I can do commissions, headcanons, and fan fictions, but be warned I'm still a beginner artist.

•Comissions are not required. You can ask for a fanfic or headcanons without paying me. I only require payment for my art.

•Art commissions are cheap. I realize that my art isn't high-quality, nor top notch, so I won't charge too much.

• I'll require 50% (or half) of the full price for commissions upfront, and the other 50% when it's finished.

•No NSFW requests please. It makes me uncomfortable and is awkward to write & I'm currently unable to draw it.

•for characters that are (or that look like) children, for example Ortho & Luke, I won't take romantic requests. Platonic is perfectly fine, however.

Fandoms:

•Twisted Wonderland

•Obey Me

•FNAF: Security Breach

•Genshin Impact

•Bungo Stray Dogs

• Arcane (I probably won't take romantic requests for Arcane, as I see most main characters as familial figures. I'll absolutely take platonic though.)

{Requests: Open}

{Commissions: Closed}

Please keep in mind that I'm serious about these rules. If they are broken within an ask, or DM, it will be deleted immediately. Examples of my art for commissions are below.

[Editors note:] My art tablet is currently out of order, so even though I usually take digital and traditional art commissions, I'm only taking traditional at the moment. I have a Venmo for payment. It's @/PyroManiac74 . Thank you.

Thank you.

[shewhospeakswiththunder]

Perhaps you’re feeling bored at home or, if considered an “essential” worker like me, you need a little fun and stress relief. Here is my masterpost of fic recs from my two years of reading so far. Maybe you’ll find something new, or reconnect with an old favorite. Either way--

Enjoy! 😷💕

Reylo Fics that Deserve All the Love

Near Kinsman by englishable

Englishable is just one of the best writers I’ve encountered in fandom. This historical western mail order bride AU is top notch quality.

The Masochism of Self-Defence by greyorchids

The Reylo dynamic in this Boston PD AU is steamy, but also heartfelt. 

So Much Thin Glass by walkingsaladshooter

Never knew I loved modern day Gothic AUs until I ran across this one.

Heaven Forbid by DarkKnightDarkSide

I was stunned by the author’s creativity in this Priestlo fic. So smutty. So... inventive 😉🔥

Sonder by deathbyhumidity

Two strangers passing each other by on the train. Soft, dreamlike, somber, poignant. Modern AU.

And Still I Would Remember by Inmyownidiom

A Victorian era AU of two souls that parted and come crashing back together.

So, You've Decided to Glamour a Human Girl. by selunchen

Faeries AU! Ben, a fae, and Rey, a human. Shenanigans ensue.

Live Long, and Prosper by SaintHeretical

For the Reylo Trekkies. Hell, even if you don't do Star Trek, read this. PHENOMENAL.

Mr. Solo & Miss Wellfound by LinearA

“Regency/Victorian AU, Ben sees Rey's stockinged ankle by accident.”

Diyari by Nervoustouch

Modern archeologists AU. Snarky banter with dashes of Indiana Jones, The Mummy, and Sahara vibes.

Drawn to the light of your burning sorrows by Kyriadamorte

The Mothlo AU you didn’t know you needed. Both gritty and soft.

Crown Glass by RebelRebel

Fantasy AU, with lots of beautiful imagery and engaging character dynamics.

Kohelet 3:16 (Call Me A Cab) by LinearA

NYC Jewish Leia and Ben. Skillfully layered plot, nuanced characterization. Smut is HOT.

By the Shores of Varykino Lake by hipgrab (merrymegtargaryen)

Unhealthy dynamics, definitely read the tags. “There’s a lot of fucked-up-ness”, in the author’s own words. But it’s good writing. Fair warning.

Let Me Put My Darkness In You by ArdeaJestin

Canonverse. Hux is an insufferable, pompous ass and Kylo Ren writes terrible, melodramatic poetry.

Wintertide by Zabeta

Whimsical and primitive in turn, this lives up to the style of a true fairytale AU.

The Forty Thieves by PoetHrotsvitha

Peaky Blinders/Gangsters AU. Rey starts as Ben’s bartender and ends up as so much more.

I Said to My Soul, Be Still by LinearA

Dark!Rey takes her man. 🥵🔥💕

Hux's Rousing Pep Talks by Riels_shorts

This fic is hysterical. It’s not Reylo, and I don’t care. My list, my rules.

It's All I Can Do To Leave You Alone by TazWren

Office AU. Silly, spunky, with a bashful Ben. 

Sip the Honey Sweet by dietplainlite

Anne of Green Gables-esque/Edwardian era AU, the title really says it all.

The Pull to the Light by HarpiaHarpyja

Entrancingly macabre. This modern/fantasy/monsters AU catches your attention from the get-go, and never lets you off the hook.

lay then the axe to the root by sciosophia

All the Bronte goodness, plus smut.

The Golden Age by TourmalineGreen

Golden Age of Hollywood AU in which Ben is a jaded actor in serious need of an image fix, in the form of fresh-faced actress Rey.

Never Be Your Curse by Kate_Reid 

Kylo Ren is a go-go dancer in this AU. That was enough to get my attention 😘

Gallows God by Killtheselights

Bursting with deliciously grim imagery, an intelligent take on Norse mythology.

Thunderstorms, Clouds, Snow, and a Slight Drizzle by aNerdObsessed

Who doesn’t love an ugly sweater Christmas party? Ben Solo, that’s who. All the nostalgic wintertime feels in this modern AU.

Though My Soul Has Set in Darkness by englishable

It’s not long, but it’s good. A lyrical dive into the mindspace of child Ben Solo. A true gem. Also not technically Reylo. Still don’t care.

I Dare You by tinylittlebrain

Daredevil Kylo has pissed off ER doc Rey Kenobi for the last time. Spicy!

stuck in colder weather by redbelles

Professor Ren stops grad student Rey from biking home in a snow storm. And takes her to his home. You can guess where this goes 😉

Between Sky and Sea by nessalk

Serious Indiana Jones vibes with a Caribbean flair. Painstakingly researched, and moments of true beauty and joy.

But Before Tomorrow by Kate_Reid

Such good writing. Canonverse.

The Sword of Prince Hector by englishable

Exploration of what redemption might feel like for Ben, canonverse. 

if compassion be the breath of life, breathe on me by Victoryindeath2

All the angst and unknowns that we were left with in the wake of TLJ are soothed in this canonverse piece.

build a ladder to the stars by redbelles

An exploration of events post-Crait. Fantastic, beautifully written.

nor are we forgiven (which brings us back) by TolkienGirl

Both Kylo and Rey get to see what life would have been like if they both got exactly what they thought they wanted after TLJ. Fascinating read. 

Forsworn by Erulisse17

This Mando/ST crossover has everything you could want--action, witty banter, space romance! So much fun!

Reylo Favorites & Classics

One Shots

59 Minutes by delia-pavorum (literaryminded)

For Science by KyloTrashForever, ohwise1ne

He Made It Through the Wilderness (somehow he made it through) by LovesBitca8

light carries on endlessly by lachesisgrimm (olga_theodora)

Grey by ocjones

The Idiot's Guide to Flirting by Violetwilson

High School/College AU

I Caught Fire by KyloTrashForever

Mountain Springs High School by animal

Epithumia by pontmercy44

Soul Searching by OptimisticBeth

Office/Workplace AU

Sensual Storytime by andabatae

The Food of Love by LovesBitca8

Historical/Dystopia AU

Hiraeth by Ferasha

a manner of virtue by neonheartbeat

The lamb's thirst by animal

Wanted by Inmyownidiom

She Who Would be Queen by sasstasticmad

go i know not whither and fetch i know not what by voicedimplosives

ABO

Knot My First Time by KyloTrashForever

Canonverse/Canon-divergent

variations on a theme of you by diasterisms (Reydar)

i will be the wolf by diasterisms

Sky Marked Souls by AnonymousMink

The Death of Kylo Ren by nymja

World In My Eyes by sasstasticmad

i'm always in this twilight (in the shadow of your heart) by diasterisms

Catch Me I’m Falling by violethoure666

Sword of the Jedi by diasterisms

You'll Be the One to Turn by postedbygaslight

Dark Crown by Violetwilson

Harry Potter AU

Nocturnal Studies And Other Peculiar Magic by WaterlilyRose

Otherwise Modern AU

Pretense by Celia_and

Insta-heart by slipgoingunder

Serotonin and Dopamine by pontmercy44

The Elusive Mating Dance of the Porgus Adorabilis by andabatae

Hanging by a Moment by crossingwinter

WAR DOGS by fulcrumstardust

miles from where you are by Mooncactus

Charcoal by luvkurai

Stay by jeeno2

coarse and rough and irritating by frak-all (or_ryn)

Blades Crossed by the-reylo-void (Anysia)

Embers by sciosophia

Mitan, Midi by animal

Janus by englishable

Say My Name by Graendoll

Thank You for The Music by hipgrab (merrymegtargaryen)

darling, so it goes by akosmia

This is the Sign You've Been Looking For by RebelRebel

Broken Things by midnightbluefox

One-Night Stand by delia-pavorum (literaryminded)

The Rebel Side of Heaven by jeeno2

On The Bumpy Road (To Love) by violethoure666

we could plant a house, we could build a tree by Like_A_Dove

I’d Like My Obituary to Hint at a Sequel by Violetwilson

Only If You Want To by Violetwilson

Not Reylo, Still Awesome

Gingerflower/Gingerrose, Armitage Hux/Rose Tico 

Between Sand and Sea by Brit Hux-Tico (birchwoods01)

If Ever I Would Leave You by Weddersins

Her Yellow Rainboots by Weddersins

Merrical, Cal Kestis/Merrin (Jedi: Fallen Order)

The Stars Alight by FlyingMachine

Heavy Ice by FlyingMachine

Caltrilla, Cal Kestis/Trilla Suduri (Jedi: Fallen Order)

No One Else by xanderwilde

call it what you want by xanderwilde

tear you to pieces by xanderwilde

Dramione, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy (Harry Potter Universe)

Now Is A Gift by SenLinYu

Sex and Occlumency by Graendoll

Zutara, Katara/Zuko (Avatar: the Last Airbender)

oracle bones by an orphaned account

Fics by Me

Virtue Ethics

Reylo College AU (completed)

Dr. Ben Solo, adjunct philosophy professor and part-time martial arts instructor, discovers a young woman in his Intro to Philosophy course whom he thinks may not actually be enrolled at the University.

Chiasmus

Reylo Role-reversal canonverse AU (WIP)

Scourge of the galaxy, Kira Ren, is tasked by the First Order to eliminate the last of the Jedi. When she captures hotshot podracer Ben Solo to extract Luke Skywalker’s location from him, things do not go according to plan. 

This Dance of Light, This Sacred Blessing

Snapshots of a modern Reylo AU. Smutty, prosey one-shot.

Listen Up, Kid

Canonverse Reylo Post TLJ one-shot

The ghosts of Supreme Leader Kylo Ren's past are back to haunt him with a vengeance. A well-meaning, familial kind of vengeance. Or, A Star Wars Carol.

Ben’s Body

Reylo Modern AU (completed)

Rey is an up and coming sculptor specialising in human shape and form. Her new next door neighbour has a body to die for and she's determined to preserve it in marble forever. Now she just has to convince dashing and reclusive Ben to model for her. Preferably naked.

Growin’ Up

Reylo High School AU (completed)

Ben Solo was supposed to only be ruining his own life with his bad decisions. Rey Niima was just trying to pay attention in class. Both get stuck in detention.

Seven Texts, 2 AM

Reylo Modern AU, smutty one-shot

Ben has good reasons not to have sex with his neighbor, Rey. She has other ideas.

Song of the Forest

Reylo Fantasy/BatB/Fairytale AU (completed)

Once upon a time, a girl with an unknown past appeared on the doorsteps of a lord’s manor, and now the forest at the edge of the lord’s property is calling to her.

A Season of Frost & Warmth

Modern Reylo P&P AU (completed)

When Ben shows up to a Halloween party with no costume, it only confirms Rey’s certainty that he is the world’s biggest jerk. Until it comes to light that maybe... he isn’t. 

Follow Me Home

Modern Werewolf Reylo AU (completed)

Rey gets stone drunk and brings home a big cute husky she found in an alley. The next morning, she finds a naked man built like a fridge sleeping on her living room floor, and no dog in sight.

The Gentleness That Comes

Reylo Modern AU one-shot

Underground boxer!Ben is resigned to his life of violence, until he meets a pretty new bartender one night.

Unlikely, Unbidden, Unbound

Gingerflower canonverse AU (WIP)

General Hux is imprisoned by the Resistance when the First Order falls. He had known his death was coming, it was simply a matter of course. He’s disappointed to learn the Resistance has other plans, and an unwavering policy of giving people second chances.

@thereylowritingden @reylofic @nancylovesreylo @grlie-girl @lilia-ula @greyforceuser @tazwren @mhcalamas