#Please come back ao3 i just want to read my fix it fics
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Day 10: Mile High Club
Aaron Hotchner x you
Contents: fem!reader x Aaron Hotchner, established relationship, semi-public
W/C: 1.1k
I’m sorry I’m so late but I’m back on track ish!!! Please be patient, and thanks for the love on my last few fics. Spam posting a couple of days now to make up for it <3
Kinktober Masterlist | General Masterlist | AO3
As soon as he had mentioned it was just you and him going on the jet, you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it.
You had been seeing each other for a few months now. Well, not seeing exactly. Fucking.
It was good. He was good. Firm but not too aggressive. Dominating but not controlling. He knew your limits, could tell from your body language and expressions what you liked, what you needed, when you were close.
It was the perfect way to destress. You knew it was impractical and short sighted. That it could get you fired. That it could get your feelings hurt. Or worst of all, that it would get in the way of your work.
But the way he was eyeing you now as he sat across from you on the jet, pretending to read the case files… every rational thought left your mind.
“What?” You muttered, after catching his eye for the fourth time.
“Nothing, it’s just a… nice shirt.” He was trying so hard to be calm, nonchalant, but you saw through him so easily.
“This one?” You feigned ignorance, fingers fiddling with the collar, and running up and down the buttons. He just nodded coldly in response. You smiled innocently, slowly and meticulously unbuttoning the top one. You were barely showing anything - a hint of collar bone at most - but his eyes were now fixed to the exposed spot. There was no other expression on his face, so you carried on, desperate to break him, fingers delicately tracing lower until you made it to the next button. You peeled shirt open slightly, finally revealing some cleavage. His restraint was evident, hands beginning to bunch the paper he was holding, eyes raking over your whole body. You blushed, suddenly shy. His lack of movement was making you doubt yourself, but you didn’t need to.
Something in him snapped. The way you were looking at him, the soft flush of pink across your cheeks, the hint of your bra showing over your shirt…
He had pulled you onto his lap in seconds, lips finding yours furiously. Fingers undoing the last of your buttons as quickly as possible. Kisses pressed frantically to your chest.
“Fuck, I’ve missed this.” He muttered in between breaths. You scoffed, rolling your hips into him as his hands drifted lower.
“It’s only been a week, Aaron…” You whispered, fingertips moving to his own shirt buttons regardless, near ripping them open with a desperation that surprised even you. He chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to the base of your neck.
“Hypocrite.” He whispered into your ear, and you giggled, pulling his lips back to yours where they belonged.
It wasn’t long before you were riding him, his hard length pressed deep inside you as you rolled your hips, quiet pants of pleasure echoing around the small cabin.
“Do you like this, huh? Knowing the pilot could hear us and find my cock inside of you at any moment.” An involuntary moan escaped your lips at that, and you blushed in embarrassment. ”You want someone to find us that bad, honey? I guess I’ll just have to make it harder to stay quiet then…” The rough pads of his fingers traced down your torso, then slipped under your skirt, finding that sensitive bundle of nerves with perfect precision. You bit your lip to keep from moaning, and he grinned. “That’s it, baby… come on, I know you can do better than that…” The pace he set was perfect, not too slow, not too fast, just the right pressure and coupled with the way he was grinding up into you…
His teeth latch onto the exposed flesh of your breast, sinking in with a biting pain, and you couldn’t help yourself as a low, guttural moan escaped your lips. He smiled into your chest, lips now pressed against that spot, kissing it better.
“Good job, baby…” Your whimpers were uncontrollable now, quiet but desperate, as you got closer and closer to that pleasure you had become so accustomed to in the last few months with him.
“I’m close, Aaron…” You managed to choke out between whines, nails digging into his shoulders to anchor yourself as best as you could while your body was turning to jelly under his touch. His teeth bit into you again, and there was something about the way he was marking you, the way he wanted you to moan louder. He wanted you to remember who you belonged to. That even if the team couldn’t know, you were branded with his teeth. Nobody else could touch you. And God it was hot. You came on his cock, a symphony of pants and whines and curses of his name. He stayed inside you the whole way through it, your body slowly melting into his until you were finally finished, muscles sore and exhausted.
"Good girl," he whispered quietly against your ear. His lips found your forehead, pressing a series of soft, reverent kisses there. The gentle gesture sent a shiver down your spine. You felt a warmth spread across your cheeks, a blush rising to your face. There was a part of you that thought felt embarrassed by this display of softness, this vulnerability you were allowing yourself. It wasn't like you to be so pliant, so openly affected. And yet, in this moment, wrapped in his arms, you found you couldn't bring yourself to care.
Your body was still humming with the aftershocks of your release, muscles pleasantly sore and limbs heavy with satisfaction. You allowed yourself the luxury of simply existing in this space, taking the time to catch your breath and recover. Your head rested against his chest, and you found yourself lulled by the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. It was a soothing metronome to the gradual slowing of your own pulse.
As the haze of pleasure began to clear, you became aware of your surroundings once more. You shifted your hips, adjusting your position slightly, and then you noticed something… he was still hard, his arousal evident where your bodies remained joined. His hands settled on your hips once more, and he pressed his lips to yours softly, noticing your realisation hit you.
“It’s ok, don’t stress it…” he muttered, moving to lift you off him, but you grabbed back onto him, settling onto your knees and smiling widely at him before deepening the kiss.
“How long until we land?” You asked.
“About two hours…” Another grin. Another kiss.
“Then I think I can help you out…”
#kinktober 2024#kinktober#fanfic#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner fanfiction#aaron hotchner smut#criminal minds
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My Superbat prompts
I've been reading superbat since forever and I finally got a tumblr account so I thought I could ask some writers to use these.
Clark kent is at the manor to interview Bruce Wayne when Dr Freeze attacks and they're basically snowed in. Bruce trying to hide secrets and Clark getting the chance to write the story of the year in the form of an I depth exposé from inside the home of billionaire blah, blah, blah... Chaos and fluff.
Bruce is in a love triangle with superman and Clark Kent. Clark assumes Bruce knows he's one person. Bruce decides to solve this by brooding and going on a series of dates with them both until he decides who's his perfect match. (you decide if Clark knows Bruce is batman but think both versions are hilarious)
Bruce Wayne has to go undercover as a carnival worker in a small town on batman business. After the Daily Planet is bought out by corrupt government officials, Clark quits and goes back home to Smallville. He feels like he's changed and isn't as fulfilled by the simple life, not to mention how much harder it is to keep being superman. He doesn't even feel useful on the farm and can't find a job he enjoys to make some money of his own and leave the house. He starts visiting the fair to take his mind of things and meeting this handsome carnival worker who he definitely would have recognized in a small town like this.
LexCorp frames Wayne enterprises for some shady dealings putting the company under investigation which might even lead to it filing for bankruptcy. While Fox and others fix this, Bruce, as the face of the company, is advised to lay low and leave Gotham for a bit. He decides to get an apartment in the cheap side of Metropolis, since all his assets are frozen and he only has one working bank account. On top of that he has to deal with his hot new roommate (or neighbor depending on how you write it) who keeps leaving and coming back at the weirdest hours while also trying to keep tabs on Gotham and maybe getting himself a job in the mean time. (to be clear Clark is the roommate)
During an argument batman says he could easily do superman's job and superman says the same. So they swap cities for two weeks. First to call for backup looses. (feel free to add romance if you want but it's not compulsory)
Clark final gathers the courage to ask out batman but right before he does, green lantern starts flirting with batman too. Harvey dent is recently released from arkham and claims to be reformed and wanting to rekindle his well known public relationship with his collage sweetheart Bruce Wayne. This causes Oliver queen to also try to win his childhood best friend's heart. It's a very long week for Bruce. (all povs if possible. Also Bruce knows everyone's identities but no one knows his. This also doesn't have to end up superbat, choose your favorite ship. Make this love-pentagon as messy as you can)
These are just a few of my personal favorites. I have a lot more. Let me know if you want me to post them. If fics with these premise already exist let me know coz I would love to read them. You can make it as explicit as you want or make it for general audiences but for my sake please add fluff. If you use these prompts also make sure to tag me here or on AO3.
#superbat fanfiction#superbat fic#worlds finest#superman#clark kent#dc comics#batman#writing#writing prompt#writing inspiration#writing community#please please please#please reblog#Blark supremacy#Superbat#Superbat again coz I forgot to tag it the first time#Please use these to get me through exam week#i'm begging#bruce wayne#ao3 fanfic#ao3#ao3 writer#green lantern#harvey dent#two face#fortress of solitude#metropolis#gotham#batfam#Batman
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Office Hours - Chapter Six
Summary:
Astarion surprises you with a night at the theatre that doesn't go quite according to your plan.
Pairing: Astarion/F!Reader Rating: Explicit Word Count: 4.7k Tags/Warnings: rough/angry sex, hair pulling, emotional manipulation, dubcon, bad BDSM practices, angst, daddy kink, reminiscent of Ascended!Astarion, discussions of domestic abuse (in Taming of the Shrew)
Hi. Hello. My sweets. My darlings. This is it. The chapter where you absolutely must mind the tags. Just know that I won't take you anywhere that we won't be able to come back from. Know that I, too, am an absolute baby when it comes to intense subject matter in fics. But I want you to take care of yourselves and your hearts. As always, shoot me a message if you'd like more specifics.
Photo credits: Zaria for Green Pussy Suit Astarion and Nephi Garcia for the incredible dress.
Read on AO3 ~ Masterlist
“In the library? Babes, are you insane?” Shadowheart's voice reaches a pitch you’re fairly sure only dogs can hear. You curl your knees into your chest and cover your face in your hands, feeling the exact appropriate amount of shame.
“I know, I know. All logic goes out the fucking window around him. All I can think is ‘mm, good dick makes brain go brr.’” You let out a frustrated sigh into your hands.
“Do you want to get fired?” She pulls your hand from your face so you can't hide from her pointed stare.
“Oh trust me, I ran about forty different scenarios of that happening through my head on the drive home.”
“Did you, now? And in how many of these did he also get fired?” Shadowheart presses, knowing how your anxiety can get out of hand.
“Like, two,” you groan and drop your head back onto the couch cushions. “I don't know what comes over me. I feel like I can't tell him no.”
“Wait, wait.” Shadowheart grips your knee, suddenly worried. “You can't tell him no as in it feels too good to stop? Or as in it doesn't feel safe to say no?”
“Nine hells, no, the first one!” you respond, horrified. She squints at you and you squirm under her gaze until you’re finally more truthful, both with her and yourself. “Well, I mean, mostly. Like it's not like that. But like also not not like that, you know?”
“I can assure you I do not,” she says in a flat voice, not interested in joking around. You sigh dramatically, trying to find the right words to describe how you feel.
“Like. Okay. Am I fully consenting to everything we do? Yes. 100%. Oh gods, yes.” Your cheeks tinge pink even thinking about it. “But like… am I going against my best judgment? Do I feel like I should say no? Does part of me kinda wish I would say no? Like… maybe?”
“Tav, that's not okay. You need to talk to him about this.” Shadowheart’s voice is soft with genuine worry. Which is ridiculous, because she’s focusing on the wrong thing.
“No, see, that's the thing. It's not actually a him issue, it's a me issue. Like there's something wrong with me, I see his most toxic traits and suddenly I'm like a horny teenager!” Your voice increases in pitch as you grow more hysterical. “How am I supposed to call him out on it when the only words that will come out of my mouth are ‘yes daddy, more please’?”
“Is there anything redeemable about him at all? Besides being good in bed?” She leans back, taking a sip of her wine and fixing you with an incredulous look.
“I mean… yeah. He’s witty, and bantering back and forth with him is fun. He’s incredibly smart, as loath as I am to admit it, and I like hearing his ideas on things, especially his interpretation of Shakespeare’s text.” You don't even notice the smile growing on your face, but Shadowheart does. “And he’s got this unexpectedly soft side. Like he seems cold and aloof on the outside, but he cares, deeply. About his students, about his cat, about-”
“About you?” she interjects, and your smile falters.
“I don't know, Shade,” you say quietly, almost ashamed to look her in the eye. “I think so. I hope so. But it's not like we've been seeing each other for that long, he’s under no obligation to feel anything.” You practically swallow the last sentence, a truth you're reticent to voice.
“And you?” she asks softly.
“Man, I don't fucking know. I just want to keep getting laid and not catch feelings, is that so much to ask?” you whine. She laughs, but you can tell that she's only humoring you.
“For you? Probably.”
***
It's been several days and your busy schedules have kept you and Astarion apart for most of it. Save the occasional tension-filled passing in the hall, you've barely interacted at all. You're almost beginning to believe that your whirlwind affair has come to an end when you find a mystery package at your apartment door.
It's made out to you with no discernable return address. You bring the box into your apartment while examining it, trying to ascertain its origin. It doesn't even really look like it was sent through the mail, it looks like it was dropped off.
You take out your phone and call down to the front desk. It rings a few times, then a somber voice answers.
“What dost thou require?” His voice is deep and crackled, like some ancient eternal being.
“Hi Withers, it's Tav in 3C. Do you know anything about this package that was left at my door?”
“I have inspected it, and determined it safe for you to open. It was brought by someone claiming to be a friend.”
“Can you tell me anything about this someone?”
“No.”
And the line goes dead. You laugh and shake your head. If Withers says it's safe, then it probably is. You’d trust that wrinkly old man with your life, honestly. You cut open the tape sealing the box shut and lift off the top.
Inside is something wrapped in tissue paper with a note stuck to it in Astarion's immaculate handwriting.
Tomorrow evening The Rosewood Seven o’clock Wear nothing underneath
You let out a small involuntary moan when you read the last three words. You carefully unwrap the tissue paper to find a fabric that looks like it's made of starlight. You pull out the midnight black dress and go slightly breathless when you get a good look at it.
It’s a backless dress with a sweetheart neckline and intricate gold embellishments that almost make it look like armor. It has a lavish gold neck piece attached by several gold chains that drip over the skin. The skirt is made of a weightless black fabric that shimmers with gold as you move it in the light. It almost appears to be cut into two panels with dual hip-high slits.
With a dress cut like this, you wouldn't be able to wear undergarments even if you wanted to.
Your heart hammers in your chest as you think about what he might have in store for you. You're not even sure what's running at the Rosewood right now, but it could be complete trash and you wouldn't even care. You probably won't even be able to pay attention, too distracted by Astarion sitting next to you for two hours.
You feel a pulsing between your legs at the thought. You think of his hand sliding up your knee while you struggle to keep a straight face. Or him reaching an arm around you, gently sliding his fingers into your hair before giving it a sharp tug.
Another moan works its way out of your throat and you follow it up with an annoyed groan. You can really get swept up at the most inconvenient times. It’s not like you don’t have any work you need to do or anything. You roll your eyes as you stalk off to draw a bath.
***
Waiting in the lobby of the theater, you’re feeling surprisingly nervous. The dress, though beautiful, is not particularly comfortable. With all of its various chains and pieces, you needed Shadowheart’s help just to put it on. It helps that she’s also incredibly talented when it comes to hair and makeup, so in truth you feel positively glamorous.
When you see Astarion, however, everything goes silent. You’re certain that he’s posing for you the way he’s stopped to adjust his cuff. The cut of the suit he’s wearing is exceptionally flattering and you imagine running your hands all over the emerald velvet. His crisp white button down is almost sheer and you desperately want to pull him into you by that forest green silk tie.
But you can’t tear your eyes away from his face. This is the first time you've seen him wear makeup, and the simple smokey eyeliner look makes his red irises pop. He’s decided to forgo his glasses, presumably opting for contacts instead to show off the makeup. He’s also swapped out his standard silver hoops for little daggers with a red rhinestone glimmering at the hilt.
He looks up at you the moment you lay eyes on him, or more specifically, the moment your heart starts to beat out of your chest. He flashes you a devastating smile before striding up to you and pulling you into a deep kiss. You can’t even be bothered to care that the other patrons are probably staring as he slides his hand onto your bare lower back, his cool touch sending a shiver up your spine.
He pulls away from you just enough to breathlessly ask, “Are you ready to sit down?”
“Huh?” You’re distracted, too busy plotting a mental path to the bathrooms to fuck him. He lets out a winded chuckle.
“The play. House is open, would you care to find our seats?” His palm is still pressed against your back and you can barely form coherent thoughts. You still don’t even know what play you’re here to see. You just want—no, need—to be near him.
“Um, yeah,” you respond, still trying to get your bearings and remind yourself how to be a person. You let him lead you into the theater, and only once you're in your seats do you realize that neither of you grabbed a program. You pull out your phone to see if you can look it up, but service in the Rosewood is notoriously bad. Instead you just need to sit still next to Astarion, who looks like a dream and smells even better.
He glances at you as your heart quickens again and his lips curl into a smile. He slips his hand behind your neck and lightly runs his finger along the seam between the golden collar of the dress and your flesh, sending goosebumps down your arms. He leans toward you until his lips are almost brushing your ear.
“You look absolutely ravishing, my dear,” he whispers, his breath tickling your earlobe. You turn your face toward him on instinct, your chest heaving as you try to steady your breathing. Your lips hover inches apart, anticipating the kiss, when suddenly a throng of noisy actors come barreling down the aisles. You snap away from Astarion as the cacophony of their shrieks of laughter, calls across the audience to one another, and drunken banter fill the house.
One of them clambors onto the stage and shouts, “For God’s sake, a pot of small ale!” He’s dressed in rags and appears by far to be the drunkest of them all. Three servingmen swarm him with various shouts of, “Will’t please your honor?” He shoves them all away and proudly takes up space center stage.
“I am Christophero Sly! Call not me ‘Honor’ nor ‘Lordship,’” he bellows as the rest of the players make their way onto the stage.
Christopher Sly… you’re wracking your brain to remember which play he serves as a framing device for. Most productions cut this scene because it’s long and completely irrelevant. You just can’t for the life of you remember which play he appears in.
The scene continues with their drunken antics and slapstick comedy as the players address Sly as “my noble lord,” making him believe he’s a king that they’re about to perform for. Eventually they carry Sly out on a makeshift palanquin as the “play within the play” begins. Two handsome young men in preppy clothes enter, holding a book and wearing glasses that aren’t too dissimilar from Astarion’s round metal ones. The one without the glasses speaks first.
“Tranio, since for the great desire I had to see fair Padua…”
Tranio? Isn’t he one of the characters in Taming of the Shrew?
He knows you don’t like this play.
Well, if it’s all that’s playing at the Rosewood right now…
But if that’s the case why not just, like, see a movie?
You shift uncomfortably in your dress and cast your gaze towards Astarion. He smiles, taking your fingers and placing a gentle kiss on your knuckles before turning back to the stage. He keeps your hand in his, absentmindedly stroking the back of your hand with his thumb.
You can feel your heart pounding in your ears and you find yourself wondering what’s running through his head. Just when you think you have him figured out, he does something to surprise you. And honestly, not always in a good way.
Maybe it won’t be so bad. You know the creative team at the Rosewood wouldn’t pick this show if they weren’t going to try to do something with it.
But even still… is this text even redeemable?
You sit through the entirety of the show cringing as the audience around you laughs at flagrant displays of domestic abuse. The actors, several of whom you’ve worked with before, are trying their hardest to make the lines playful, but some things just can’t be recovered. Between the forced starvation, physical intimidation, and gaslighting, you wonder why companies even bother performing this play anymore. No matter how witty the writing is, it’s just too out of date to be a good season choice.
When the time comes for Kate’s final monologue, you watch in pain as the actress tries to wink-wink-nudge-nudge her way through lines like “place your hands below your husband’s foot.” She’s young, and you wonder if this is one of her first professional gigs. You get a little sad knowing that she’s probably just desperate to do anything, even if it’s trash.
Maybe you’re being a little harsh. All of the individual elements of the show—the acting, set, costumes, direction, lighting—were quite good. You just can’t get over how irredeemable this text is. Worth teaching, yes, and maybe even taking Act II out of context just for the fun banter and clever wordplay. But professional theatre companies should really just retire this one.
In the Lyft back to your apartment, you decide to get Astarion’s take on the matter.
“Do you think it’s possible to redeem a text like Taming in a modern age?”
He pauses for a moment, continuing to look away from you and out the window.
“I do, yes,” he finally answers. “I think it takes a skilled hand, but it can be successful when done well.”
You sit on his response, chewing it over. You decide to take a different route.
“I guess a better question is do you think it’s worth trying to? Like, what are we getting out of it anymore?”
“Is entertainment not enough?” he says with a laugh. You wrinkle your nose at him.
“Sure, if you’re a basic ass bitch. But I want my art to mean something. And I can’t think of what this play can possibly mean if it’s not ‘shrill women are annoying and should learn their place.’” You cross and uncross your legs, trying to keep yourself decent.
“Last I checked, you enjoy being put in your place,” he says in a low hum and your pussy betrays you with a clench.
“Shut up,” you grumble, and you’re grateful that the dark car hides your reddening cheeks. “It’s different.”
“Is it, though? Ultimately it is a text about two dysfunctional people finding comfort in one another.” His sincerity catches you off guard, and almost makes you angry that he’s been taken in by the propaganda.
“That’s only a valid interpretation if you ignore half of what happens in the play. They’re not equally dysfunctional, Kate literally gets beaten into submission and pretends to be happy about it. Petruchio is exactly the same from the start to the finish, he has no fucking character arc.” Your hands start to shake as you try to keep your cool. You’ve had this conversation far too many times with men who think they can interpret out the sexism by simply glossing over Kate’s abuse.
The Lyft stops in front of your building and you thank the driver as you get out. Astarion follows you, and you’re not even sure if you want him to accompany you upstairs. But you remain silent as you walk past Withers and into the elevator.
“You’re overreacting,” Astarion says once the elevator doors close. “People are drawn to this play for a reason. The text is excellent, and no one truly thinks of Petruchio as an abuser.”
“Are you joking?” Your voice gets shrill and the similarity to Kate isn’t lost on you. “The whole thing normalizes his abuse. The fact that people don’t think of him as an abuser is the problem.”
“It’s a slapstick comedy,” he snaps, his voice growing stern. “Are you going to tell me that we need to cancel the Three Stooges because it promotes violence?”
“Don’t be fucking condescending,” you spit. “It’s not the same and you know it.”
“How is it not the same? Suddenly because it’s a woman in the role it no longer counts? Are you implying that women should be barred from certain types of performance because of their gender?” He walks past you into your apartment and you throw your keys and bag on the counter, not even bothering to see where they land.
“No, that’s not what I’m saying, now you’re just twisting my words,” you grumble, more frustrated than ever by your inability to match his eloquence.
“So use your own words,” he sneers, whirling around to face you. “How is it not the same?”
“It’s because- well, I- It’s different, just- argh!” Your head is clouded by your attraction to him, which has annoyingly only grown over the past few minutes of shouting. You’re suddenly reminded of the smug arrogant bastard that you first met. He lets out a jeering laugh.
“See? You can’t even defend your own point.”
His sardonic cruelty sets something off in you and you angrily grab the lapel of his green suit. Your intentions are a complete mystery even to you, because as soon as you’re within inches of one another, instincts take over. You crush his lips into yours and pull him backwards until you thump against the door behind you. He paws hungrily at the dress, sliding his hand under the slit and around to grab your bare ass. You gasp into his touch, feeling equally frustrated and aroused that he even controlled what you wore tonight.
Your fingers make their way into his hair and you pull hard, breaking the kiss and leaving his mouth open, panting. His eyes are sparkling with a fire that you haven’t seen yet and a low growl manifests in your throat. He smirks and buries his teeth into your shoulder, something he usually asks bespoke permission for. You cry out in response, twisting your hands tighter into his silvery locks.
He unlatches from your shoulder and pushes his knee past the front of your skirt and up onto your bare cunt. You grind wantonly against the velvet as he kisses you with bloody lips. He grabs hold of the delicate chains of the dress and yanks, detaching them from the collar and making the entire bodice crumple and pool around your waist. Your nipples immediately harden at the sudden exposure to cold air and he pinches one sharply between his fingers. Your hips roll into his leg as you groan, fully ruining his pants. He continues to bite around your neck and shoulders, placing little puncture wounds in his path, marking you as his.
You grab onto his tie and push him away so you can shimmy out of the rest of the dress. You’re now down to just the gold collar of the dress and your heels, a look you wish you could hate but don’t. You pull him across your living area and toward your bedroom, shoving him down onto the edge of the bed.
“Thou hast hit it, come, sit on me,” he says, quoting Petruchio with a sinister grin. Kate’s retort falls out of your mouth reflexively.
“Asses are made to bear, and so are you,” you hiss as you straddle his hips, wrapping his tie around your hand until you’ve gripped it up to the knot. Your other hand violently unbuckles his belt, yanking it through the loops with a snap.
“Women are made to bear, and so are you,” he says with a caustic laugh, digging his nails into your ass cheeks. You tug sharply on his tie, bringing his lips close to yours.
“No such jade as you, if me you mean,” you snarl and silence him with an angry kiss. You don’t want to encourage his idiotic behavior, but you’d be lying to yourself if you said this wasn’t a fantasy you’ve had before. You fumble with the buttons of his suit jacket, trying to get him undressed as quickly as possible. You’re not sure if you feel more vulnerable or more powerful being undressed while he’s still fully clothed, but either way you want him naked, now. You get about three buttons into his shirt before you grow impatient, ripping it the rest of the way open and sending buttons flying.
Good. Let him need to repair his clothes for once.
You push him flat onto his back and descend onto his chest, alternating kisses, licks, and bites. Your dull human teeth don’t have nearly the same effect as his fangs, but it just means you get to bite twice as hard in order to leave a mark. He writhes beneath your touch, and you feel a twisted satisfaction at the quiet little grunts and gasps you’re finally pulling from him. He’s rarely this vocal during sex, and it’s only serving to spur you on more.
His groans build until you capture his nipple in your teeth and bite down, causing him to shout and buck his hips up into you. In a flash he flips you around onto your back and he bears down on you, eyes dangerous.
“Little love, do you think you’re in control?” he asks in a low growl, his hand gripped around your jaw. You sneer and slide your leg against the strained bulge in his pants. He hisses and your smile widens.
“Right now? Yes,” you coo, continuing to press your calf against his velvet-covered cock. You grab the tie still hanging around his neck and pull him close.
“If you want it back, fucking take it.”
If I put my hands around your wrists, would you fight them?
He kisses you roughly, catching your bottom lip in his teeth biting hard enough to puncture the skin. He pulls back slightly, a drop of your blood running down his chin and a snide grin. He makes like he’s about to kiss you again but shoves your face away before your lips make contact.
This is the worst you’ve ever seen him—the most arrogant, the most condescending, borderline cruel even. And you have never been more turned on.
If I put my fingers in your mouth, would you bite them?
“Is that all you’ve got?” you taunt, licking the blood from your lips. “Go ahead, choke me, daddy.”
The feminist in you is horrified, but the little gremlin controlling your libido is having the time of its life. It squeals with delight when his hand closes around your throat, just barely constricting your breathing.
“You insolent little brat,” he breathes into your ear, pulling up on your jaw. “I will absolutely ruin you.”
And there will be no tenderness, no tenderness.
“Do it, coward,” you spit, and he lets go just long enough to finish undressing from the waist down. He grabs your still heeled ankle and presses your leg up by your shoulder, stretching you wide enough to take him without any prep. You gasp as he fills you, the stinging pain outweighed by the gratification of finally feeling him inside you.
The only thing that I ask, love me mercilessly.
He sets a punishing rhythm, one knee on the bed and the other foot still firmly planted on the floor. He bottoms out with each long thrust and you grab hold of his hair to brace yourself. He winces with the pain but doesn’t slow down, and your moans grow high and loud as he continues to furiously pound into you.
“Gods, fuck, Astarion,” you keen, your desire coiling in your belly and threatening to explode. “Keep going, daddy, fuck me please.” He grunts with the effort and your dirty talk seems to be having an effect as his pace falters. You jerk your hips up into him, chasing your orgasm, until finally it barrels through you like a runaway train. You pull on his hair as you come and that sets off his, his pulsing cock pressing against the clenching walls of your cunt.
He stays deep inside you as the aftershocks reverberate through both of you, until the only sound remaining is your heavy panting. He drops his forehead to touch yours, a pleasantly tender moment after some of the roughest sex you can recall having. He starts to giggle and you follow suit, suddenly giddy. He pulls out of you with a squelch and walks to the bathroom to get a towel to clean up the mess you’ve left behind. He wipes you down gently, a surprising bit of aftercare you’re not accustomed to with him. He plants a tender kiss on your lips and you feel dizzy with affection for him.
You settle up against the headboard of your bed, his arm around you and both of you looking at your phones in a companionable silence. After a moment, he lets out a small chuckle.
“What?” you ask, turning your head towards him quizzically.
“I’m just shocked that worked, is all,” he laughs, shaking his head. Your confusion grows and you furrow your brow.
“What worked?” you laugh with him, but something doesn’t feel right.
“The whole night, taking you to see Taming, getting into just enough of a fight to result in,” he vaguely waves his hand, gesturing to the edge of the bed, “all of that.”
“Wait, what? What do you mean?” You pull away from him and your stomach drops. Surely he can’t be suggesting what you think he’s suggesting.
“You get riled up so easily, I thought this might be fun.” He still doesn’t seem to have picked up on your heart pounding in your ears, which is frankly unusual for him.
“Are you saying… Wait, are you saying that you planned that fight? So, what, we’d have angry sex?”
“Of course, you don’t think I actually believe anything that I said, do you? Taming of the Shrew might be well-written, but it’s a rubbish play to produce.” He finally turns to you and sees that you’ve gone white as a sheet. “Oh, darling, don’t take it like that, you’re positively adorable when you’re angry, I couldn’t resist.” He tries putting his hand to your cheek but you flinch away like he’s burned you.
“Get out,” you say in a low voice, unable to even look at him.
“What?” He’s still laughing. He doesn’t get it. “My sweet, didn’t you-”
“GET. OUT.” Your voice has a venom in it that even shocks you. He stares at you in horror until you shoot him an icy glare. “Now.”
Without a word he stands and quickly puts his clothes back on. You stay in your bed, naked and curled under a sheet, until you hear the front door of your apartment slam. With shaking hands, you call Shadowheart.
“Moonmaiden’s delight, did you enjoy yourself? It certainly sounded like you did.” The sound of Shadowheart’s bubbly laugh usually makes you smile, but right now it seeps into your skin like poison.
“Shade, please come over,” you whimper, and the second the words leave your mouth, the tears begin to fall. You don’t hear her hang up, but you do hear a muffled, “I’m going to fucking kill him!” through the wall. You pull your knees further into your chest and sob.
#astarion#astarion fanfic#astarion fic#baldur's gate 3#baldur's gate iii#baldurs gate astarion#baldurs gate fanfiction#astarion ancunin#astarion smut#baldurs gate smut#fanfiction#smut#professor astarion#astarion x reader#astarion x you#bg3 au#college au#bg3 modern au#astarion x tav#astarion romance#office hours#baldurs gate au#astarion angst
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Not Without You
Pairing: Lucien De Leon x f!reader (nickname: Poppy)
Word Count: 2800+
Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!
Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story.
Notes: Listen. I saw that clip of him making out in The Uninvited. That's it. That's the explanation. This is not betad. This one is for the sluts.
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**Reader is not described
Main Masterlist
Lucien Masterlist
--------
I get out of my car, staring up at the ridiculous mansion in front of me. The sound of the ocean, just out of sight behind the giant home, is soft and gentle in my ears, calming me. Giving me a little mental boost before I sigh, smoothing down my dress. I make my way to the front door, weaving between a few cars that were parked out front. Expensive cars.
It's not that I'm jealous of my childhood friend. Emilia deserves to be happy and she's happy that she married money. Some fancy producer out here in LA that fell for her big eyes and bright smile the second he saw her.
But that doesn't mean I wanted to come to one of her dinner parties, having to schmooze and pretend to be interested in what everyone has to say. I've been here before, met the people, fucked the party boy actor that eventually broke me, and yet here I am, unable to say no to Emilia.
I raise my hand to knock, dreading what the evening will bring but the door flies open before my knuckles touch anything. Emilia stands before me, a few rollers still in her hair, stress all over her body.
"Poppy, you're early! Thank GOD!" She pulls me inside and hugs me, the door closing heavy behind me.
"I always come early because you need me," I smile as she chuckles, lightly punching my arm. "What can I do to help?"
"You're angel, I swear! Can you make sure the table settings are right? There's extra silverware in the-"
"I know, Emilia. Everything like normal?" I'd been to so many of her parties, I know exactly what the set up is.
She nods, her smile growing wider. "Keep it simple and classy. You know me!"
I nod. "So what kind of party is this one? Another schmooze for Mr.?"
She waves her hand. "Yeah something like that. He's meeting with a bunch of actors for some upcoming project. He's hand selected them."
"Cool."
Emilia thanks me again before running off to finish getting ready. I pause for a moment, looking around trying to remember where the dining room is. I head down the hall and into what I think is the dining room. It turns out I remembered correctly, my eyes roaming over the table and making small adjustments to the settings already there. I end up pulling out more silverware, fixing them to Emilia's standards. I hate that I know this stuff, but I've saved her ass more times than I can count at these things so it helps to know what to expect.
As I work, my mind goes back to all the parties past. The ones she brought me to when she first started dating the producer several years ago. She had been so nervous, as if the producer wasn't already head over heels for her. That's where I met-
No. Not going down that road again. I can't do that to myself.
I shake my head and finish the settings, adding some minor touches to the decorations and finally lighting the candles. A knock at the door brings me out of my head and I walk over to answer it. An older gentleman stands there, putting out a cigarette with his shoe. He introduces himself as the director. What an ego.
Several people arrive after him, a mix of actors and a screenwriter. They all mingle in the sitting room for a few minutes before Emilia and the producer make their way in, everyone doing introductions.
The producer claps his hands together, looking around. "We're still missing one, but I doubt he'd mind us getting started. Who's hungry?"
Everyone gives their approval but as they move towards the dining room, a knock raps on the front door.
"That should be him. Guess I tried to start too soon!" Polite laughter at the producer as Emilia moves to answer the door, a quick glance in my direction before she disappears down the hall. The producer is telling some little story about a prior movie he was involved in, one I've heard a zillion times. But his story is short and he motions behind me.
"Just in time! We were about to eat. Welcome, Lucien."
My back stiffens. The room starts to spin my chest heaving. He didn't say Lucien. Did he? Maybe it was another Lucien. It couldn't be my Lucien? No. He's not my Lucien. He made that very clear when he wanted to continue partying and I wanted to settle down.
"Perfect! I'm starving."
Fuck. There was no mistaking that voice, the one that sets my skin ablaze, makes warmth pool between my thighs, the one that told me he needed to focus on his career and couldn't be with me. Not in the way I wanted him.
A small hand on my elbow squeezes me and I know it's Emilia, gently guiding me towards the dining room.
"I'm sorry, Poppy. He invited him and I didn't make the connection until the last minute."
"You couldn't have given me a heads up?" I yank my arm from her grip and swallow hard. I can't let him see how he makes me feel. He doesn't deserve that. I turn, letting the others file past me until he stops in front of me.
"Poppy. I..I didn't know you'd be here."
I'm determined to show him how much better off I am, that he means nothing to me now. I look up into his eyes and all of my resolve goes completely out the window. Were his eyes always that big? That round? So soft? I want to yank him to me by the thin chain around his neck, press my lips to his and never let go.
Way to show him, Poppy.
"I didn't know you'd be here either."
A silence stretches between us, a heavy, loaded silence. His eyes soften the longer he looks at me and is that regret I see? No. I'm projecting. But then he offers me his arm, taking me completely by surprise.
"We can be adults. Shall we?"
Don't do it. Don't take his arm, Poppy. Don't do it, don't do it, don't-
My fingers close on his offered up arm. "I'm sure this is a great opportunity for you."
Fuck, he's still warm. His skin smooth where my fingers touch him. Way to go, Poppy.
He escorts me into the dining room and I feel Emilia's eyes glued to us. He pulls out my chair and I sit, him scooting the chair in behind me before walking around the table, looking for his name card. Which was conveniently placed directly across from mine.
The producer clears his throat after everyone sits and starts making some speech about the project, about handpicking everyone here, blah blah blah. I zone out, trying to use my peripheral to steal glances at him. It's been several years since that night we split, the yelling match that had devolved into quite possibly the hottest sex I'd ever had. No, don't think about that. I need a better look so I turn my head to take a drink and chance a glance at him, only to find him already looking at me, still with the soft eyes. I nearly choke on my drink, managing to swallow it and clear my throat.
He finishes his speech and everyone claps politely, starting to eat and talk amongst themselves. I sit, deciding to choose silence while eating but then Lucien looks directly at me.
"So, what do you think?"
"Uh what?"
Fuck him with those big, stupid eyes.
He gestures towards the producer with his fork. "The project."
"Oh. Well I'm not involved so," I shrug. "I'm just here for Emilia."
He chuckles. "How many rollers were in her hair this time?"
I laugh, my body betraying me. "Four."
"But seriously. A good project?"
"I think..I think it's an honor he hand picked you. I'm not sure what the project itself is, but I'm sure it would be great for your career."
His eyes study my face as I take a bite of my food. "It's not always about the career though."
Anger surges up through me. "Isn't it?"
"How are we doing over here?" Emilia had walked up, cutting off whatever Lucien was about to say to defend himself.
"Great, Em. I'm just going to get something from the kitchen." I set my napkin on the table and push my chair back, Emilia giving me the smallest squeeze to my arm before I turn and head into the kitchen, the door closing behind me and effectively cutting off the sounds of the dinner party.
I lean over the kitchen island, my hands splayed out over the cool marble, trying to calm myself down. I hear the door open, the chatter from the party momentarily loud again before the door swings shut and it's quiet again.
"Em, I'm fine. Really. He just...caught me by surprise. I can hold it in."
"What if I don't want you to hold it in?"
My head snaps up, meeting his gaze, embarrassment making my skin heat up. "Oh. I thought you were Emilia."
Lucien takes a few steps towards me, the light glinting off the thing chain around his neck. "You didn't answer my question."
I stand up straight, crossing my arms. "We've done this dance before, Lucien. It didn't end well."
He smirks and I want to slap him. "I think it ended just fine. In the doorway, on the floor, in the front yard. I had to move my neighbors were too jealous."
My body betrays me with a small smile at the memory but then I reign it in. "I'm still not paying for that end table."
He's closer now. When did he move closer? Almost close enough to touch. His voice is low and raspy. "I'd destroy every end table on this planet if it meant having you under me again."
Fuck. Me.
I turn away from him, not giving him the pleasure of seeing what he does to me. "Flattering. But you made it very clear I was not number one in your life."
"I was stupid. I guess I needed to prove to you, to myself, that I could actually do this acting thing."
Finally composing myself, I turn to face him. "And how'd that work out for you?"
His eyebrows furrow together. "Have you not seen any of my films?"
I had. I had seen them all. I know I shouldn't have, that it wasn't helping me get over him. But Lucien has this pull, this hold on me I've never been able to fully shake.
"Some. But I'm asking your opinion. Off camera."
His jaw ticks a moment before he takes a swig from the glass I only just realized he was holding. "It brought me here."
I scoff. "Yeah, the producer hand picking you is actually a very high honor. I'd be-"
"No, you misunderstand." He shakes his head and sets his glass down on the counter. "I lied earlier."
It was my turn to furrow my eyebrows. "When? You've lied to me a lot."
"Earlier, when I said I didn't know you'd be here. I knew, well...more like hoped you'd be here. Knew it was a long shot but the only way you'd talk to me again."
My heart was racing, nearly bouncing out of my chest as he takes another few steps right into my personal bubble, my lower back against the counter. "I already told you I'm not replacing that end table."
He's right in front of me, the warmth from his body radiating onto mine. "I was a fool, Poppy. I..I love you."
I've waited years to hear him say those words to me again, to hear him actually mean them. To hear them not sandwiched between things like "but I have to focus on my career".
His lips are so close to mine, his breath fanning over my face.
"You broke my heart, Lucien."
"I know. I'm sorry. Let me put it back together."
"Lucien, I-" but he cuts me off with the softest touch of his lips I've ever felt, a whole slew of emotions flooding my body, including the one pooling between my legs.
"I can't do this without you, Poppy."
"Do this?"
"Life. I don't want to do it without you."
Fuck.
I grip that chain around his neck and pull him to me, our lips crashing together, his body pressing into mine. But then the counter scrapes across my spine and I jolt, breaking the kiss to gasp in pain. Lucien steps back, offering me his hand.
"Let's go somewhere where we won't break the furniture."
I shouldn't take his hand. I can still back out. But a small voice in the back of my head believes that he means it. That he wants a life with me, wants what I wanted all those years ago. And right now, I'm letting that voice win. I take his hand and he smiles, that smile that makes me feel like I'm the only person in the world. He guides me out the back door, past the pool, past the changing tents between the pool and the beach, and down the walkway alongside the neighbors cement wall that leads down to the beach.
He spins me and I laugh, tasting the salty ocean air on my tongue. I back up towards the wall and he follows me, lowering himself to my level. His large hands wrap around my hips, gliding down to cup my ass, and I moan into his kiss, my hand gripping his shirt to pull him closer to me. He kisses me, his tongue sliding into my mouth like it had so many times before. One hand still firmly on my ass, the other slides up my side, cupping my face so tenderly, full of love. He pulls back slightly and looks at me, like he's shocked I'm really here. That he's really kissing me.
"I love you, Poppy. I never should have let you go."
"Then don't let me go. I've always been yours."
He kisses me again, his hips pressing into mine and I can feel him hard, my cunt desperately throbbing, begging to feel him inside me again. Somewhere in my haze of desire, I hear myself begging, whispering pleas in his ear to take me, that I need him inside me before I die. His hands slide my dress up my thighs, reaching under and ripping my underwear in two, tucking them into his pocket. He had ruined so many good pairs of my underwear that way, but I honestly couldn't care less. My fingers fumble with his zipper, but I manage to get it down, reaching in to grip him, a sharp intake of breath when my fingers close around him, pumping him a few times. His hands slide under my ass, lifting me up as he presses me against the wall. He slides into me and the world stops moving, colors are brighter, and I finally feel right, like I'm actually here on this planet. Every thrust of his hips brings him deeper into me, holding me here, holding me to him. His breath comes out in short pants, desperate pleas of love and apologies between our moans as he fucks me against the wall.
And then the light blooming inside me breaks, my head pushing back, my nails digging into his skin, my entire body tingling as pleasure radiates out from where we connect. Lucien follows suit, moaning my name as he spills himself inside of me, pushing as deep as he can. We stay like that for a moment, trying to catch our breaths.
"I want to stay inside of you but my legs are fucking shaking."
I laugh and he yelps, quickly trying to pull out of me as my laughter contracts my body around him. He sets me on the ground and zips his pants as I smoothe out my dress, my laughter slowly fading. I look at him and he looks back at me, his eyes still soft and gentle. He tucks some hair behind my ear before cupping my cheek again.
"I wasn't kidding, Poppy. I was fucking stupied before. I need you next to me. When we're together, I feel...right. like I belong here. I don't think I can face this life without you."
I know it's a possibility this will end the same way it did before, but something in his eyes is different this time. He's had time to think, time to experience life without someone with him. Without me. He's grown, matured - well, matured some at least. But do I want to open my heart back up to him? Knowing that he could shatter it again at any moment?
"I'm still not replacing that end table."
He smiles and it lights up my entire world. "That's ok. I have plenty more furniture we can ruin with our love."
-------
General Taglist:
@frankie-catfish-morales @chaoticgeminate @janebby @astoryisaloveaffair @balekanemohafe @greeneyedblondie44 @hoeforthefictional @marvelousmermaid @hauntedmama @icanbeyourjedi @wretchedmo @sunnshineeexoxo @livingmydreams13 @adventures-of-a-noodle @sara-alonso @theewokingdead @punkerthanpascal @giggly-otter @f0rever15elf @phandoz @gallowsjoker @lovesbiggerthanpride @booksarekindaneat @charlispersonallyhell @xoxabs88xox @amneris21 @gooddaykate @avengers-fixation @paintballkid711 @harriedandharassed @ladykatakuri @practicalghost @withakindheartx @batdarkladyvampir @justanotherkpopstanlol @mermaidxatxheart @alexxavicry @justreblogginfics @kmc1989 @veryprairieberry @mysterious-moonstruck-musings
#lucien flores x reader#lucien flores x you#lucien flores x f!reader#lucien flores x female reader#lucien flores#the uninvited#the uninvited ff#the uninvited fanfiction#the uninvited fanfic#lucien flores fanfic#lucien flores fic#Lucien Floires ff#pedro pascal#pedro pascal character fanfic#pedro pascal character fanfiction#pedro pascal character ff#pedro pascal characters#lucien de leon
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desperate
joel x f! reader
my little contribution to kinktober. a teasing/denial fic that i originally wrote for butcher (the boys) but joelified bc he's so daddy. nsfw under the cut. sorry i've been mia
“fuckin’ look at you, doll.” joel flashes you a shit-eating grin before reaching up to pinch your nipples between his thumb and forefingers harshly, rumbling a chuckle at the whimper it draws from you. you’re all splayed out for him with your hands tied to headboard above, thighs wrenched open by his shoulders; skin hot and flushed under his touch. he’s told you to stay still twice already but you can’t, not when he’s been leaving featherlight brushes on your skin for hours and cruelly laughing at every sound that comes from your mouth, smiling at the way your hips buck in his hold-
and then he’s leaning in just to press hot, open-mouthed kisses to your sternum, beard stinging against your sensitive skin, jaw working to nip and bite until your tears are falling and he’s pulling back with a mocking tut, eyes twinkling.
“all these pretty tears just f’me, love?” your frantic nod makes him raise a brow, hand coming down to swat the inside of your thigh - the impact shooting straight to your poor, neglected cunt.
“use y’words, chatterbox.”
his tone makes you want to curl in on yourself, because he knows you’re too far gone to form words right now, too far gone to think about anything beyond the fact that you need him and that you might actually die if he stops touching you. but you know joel, and you know how mean he really is - he’ll keep you writhing on the bed for hours to fix your attitude if he doesn’t hear an answer now; uncaring of the fact that you’re barely grasping at thoughts and completely fucking gone. and like the devil, you he starts rubbing circles into the juncture of your thighs while you struggle to answer him.
“y-yes, da-joel. ‘m cr-crying for y-you.” he hums, and suddenly runs a knuckle through your folds, making you keen, tears sticking to your lashes.
“yes, who?” bastard. he knows you can never bring yourself to say it - not even if it rests on the tip of your tongue every time - and despite yourself, you bite your tongue and shake your head, hiccuping.
“oh we’re being shy now? fuck me, honey, where was this when i had my cock in your ass?” his hands rest just above where you need him now, thumbs stroking your abdomen in careful, downward brushes. your back arches into the touch, hips chasing him even when he pulls his hands away, and then you’re sobbing in earnest.
another tut, dripping with condescension. “no more cryin’. tell me what you want, baby.” and you’re gasping another breath and gulping air, wrists straining against the rope before stammering out another response, too delirious with your need to register what you were saying.
“need you to t-touch me, d-daddy, please.” he shuffles up, gripping your chin to turn it towards him before capturing your lips in his, his tongue sweeping into your mouth. his thumb presses gently on your buzzing clit, making you jolt with surprise. you blink at him, frowning. he’d never cave this quickly.
until- he’s reaching down to plant a kiss to your forehead, smoothing over your hair before nuzzling against your cheek.
“gotta give my pretty girl what she needs, don’t i?
hello loves, as always - thank you for reading. comment your thoughts or find me on ao3. stay hydrated and have a great day!
taglist (lmk if u wanna be taken off, no hard feelings): @imherefordeanandbones , @theywhowriteandknowthings , @josephquinnswhore , @millerscoffee , @nostalxgic, @sscorpiiio , @pedrosaidsheispunk , @its-nebuleuse, @sofiparallel , @mandoisapunk , @bastardmandennis , @pawnshopb1ues,
dividers by @cafekitsune (the best.)
#the last of us#tlou fanfiction#joel miller x you#tlou hbo#the last of us fanfiction#the last of us x reader#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x female reader#kali rambles#the last of us fic#joel miller x reader#joel miller fanfic#joel miller smut#joel x reader#joel the last of us#brat tamer! joel#dom joel miller#daddy dom! joel#joel miller#joel
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hey fam, welcome to the November round up of all my favorite fics i read this month!!
as a reminder: 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, it's incredibly subjective.
you can find past recs below:
February March April May June July August September October
you can now also find ALL of the five star fics in my 5 Star Hannigram Fics collection on ao3 :))))
and if you have any recs of your own for me, PLEASE SHARE.
without further ado, and in no particular order, let's go!
~
WET by agarina_amigara
Word Count: 5652 Summary: the prompt for day 5 of fcktober: "wet"Post-Fall. The water filtration on the boat sailing Hannibal and Will to freedom sucks ass. Thankfully Will is good with his hands. So is Hannibal.
i desperately need more 'Will being good at fixing boats' fics lolol this was so good!!
Only One Night? by onmywayhome
Word Count: 3203 Summary: It had been 20 minutes of him laying down with his eyes closed, still awake. The only thing that caused his eyes to open was the feeling of his psychiatrist wrapping his arm around his stomach. He pulled Will in closer, Will could hear the faint noise of snoring, ‘Is he asleep?’ he thought to himself, he suddenly felt something poking his backside as Hannibal pushed closer. ‘Oh.’-OR-Hannibal and Will have to share 1 hotel room (and 1 bed ;)) which brings out some intense feelings in both of them
oooooooooookay, i saw the "only one bed" tag and blacked out, love love love love. (it's just PWP, what more do you want from me?)
The Corpse-Angel's Blessing by @dbmars
Word Count: Summary: Will Graham is the omegan prince of the kingdom of Gaulemagne. Despite being the eldest child of the murdered king and queen, he cannot take the throne - the crown is reserved for alphas only, and his brother Matthew will rule once he comes of age. In the meantime, Will and beta princess Alana are under the guardianship of the Regent, their father's first cousin: Frederick Raul de Brûler, Earl of Chilton. Gaulemagne suffers under Chilton's rule. Will's only method of resistance is writing anonymous pamphlets about omegan rights and getting them into the hands of those who can affect change. Chilton knows this brilliant omega is trouble, and arranges a marriage for him with Alpha King Hannibal, the sovereign of Eidermark, the last "civilized" kingdom before the Northern Wastes - a tundraland filled with dangerous nomads uniting under the banner of a man calling himself the Great Red Dragon. Will is sold to King Hannibal the Vicious, traded along with a herd of cattle and casks of wine for weapons and armor. He travels to Eidermark determined to stand up for his beliefs and resist any way he can. And yet... there is more to King Hannibal than anyone knows...
this was a TREAT!!! (idk what else i'd be expecting from dbmars though) the tag 'hannigram is very very horny for eachother but they have to wait for the wedding' is what initially got me and wowow.
Safehome by @dbmars
Word Count: 27798 Summary: On the run, Will and Hannibal lay low for a month in a safehouse in rural Iowa.“We could disappear now. Tonight. Feed your dogs, leave a note for Alana, and never see her or Jack again. Almost polite.”Will’s mind railed against the words. His resistance was powerful at first, like the failure of a mighty dam holding back a river, the water pounding down to the valley below. No. Of course not. Hannibal had to pay for what he’d done to Abigail Hobbs. Jack Crawford was his friend and on the right side of the law. The plan to betray Hannibal would go down exactly as they’d plotted together.But then...Will opened his mouth to artfully refuse.Instead, he heard himself say, “Let’s go.”This is a finished, polished version of my DoMAYstic 2023 prompt challenge completed with twitter x threads. I was saving it to publish in May of 2024 with more smut and better writing, and then suddenly I realized IT'S JUNE AND I FORGOT TO POST IT.So, anyway. If you're looking for a comfort fic, this is pretty damn sweet. And if you've ever lived in the Midwest, well... you get it.
oh oh oh oh this was so freaking good. it was beautiful, it was poignant, it felt like home (hi hello, i am from the upper midwest), it felt like a hug. i love them so much.
Strangers with History by sourweather
Word Count: 2843 Summary: Will and Hannibal both like to visit a website that allows them to sext with random, anonymous strangers. What are the odds they would match with each other?It had to happen eventually.
I want like… 80k words of Will and Hanni sexting each other anonymously while normal s1 events are happening, you know? Or s2.
Night Terrors by @gnawing-suspicion
Word Count: 2665 Summary: Will Graham wakes up from a sex dream about his therapist. It throws off his whole morning.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAH I AM DECEASED THIS WAS SO HOT. the entire series is fucking AMAZING, @gnawing-suspicion bb you're amazing <3
Birthday Wish by Redeye17
Word Count: 5927 Summary: Will makes an impulsive wish and is dismayed to find it granted by the gods of love.-"I feel it's pertinent to ask you what exactly you wished for last night."Will rapidly mentally calculates how to explain the situation. He certainly hadn’t fucking wished to be a woman, but he has to admit that it is perhaps an easier solution to his wish than the logistical hurdles that carrying a baby in his male body would present."I can't tell you. If I do, it won't come true," Will mumbles out against Hannibal’s chest after a moment's hesitation.
DELICIOUS
Quarantined by KatherineKrawl
Word Count: 9102 Summary: En route to Kansas City for a murder case, Hannibal and Will get an urgent call from Jack, telling them to self-quarantine immediately in a small cabin near the woods. Shopping at Walmart, one double bed and no suits will bring them both a lot of 'firsts'.-“Perhaps we could...” and before Will could turn, an arm extended before his chest to pick a bottle from the pile. “...forgo this for the coming weeks?”Hannibal had appeared beside him, and Will saw the cart he was dragging after himself filled to the brim with cans, bags, bottles and packages. Toilet paper, too.Hannibal had been smart rather than stubborn by forgoing the fresh, perishable produce, and Will was relieved to see it. The look in those amber eyes, however, was... haunting.“That's my aftershave,” Will frowned, as he watched the glass bottle with the little blue ship being removed from the basket.
Enough time has passed since those initial days of the pandemic that this was actual perfection. I loved this so freaking much. And the marshmallow bed. Naturally.
responsible, forever, for what you have tamed by multifandom_fanfic_writer
Word Count: 6689 Summary: There was only one bed.
ONLY ONE BED. God, this was perfect.
To Fuel Your Radiance by GoldenUsagi
Word Count: 21340 Summary: AU where Will is the actual Devil. After Hannibal sells his soul, a fascination begins to develop between them. Will is intrigued by the unique monster Hannibal is, while Hannibal thinks Will is the most magnificent thing he's ever encountered. As their conversations continue, their involvement with each other becomes something else entirely.
Oh this was excellent. This dialogue here was TOP NOTCH.
If i went to touch you now (what would you do?) by LumusWinter
Word Count: 1944 Summary: Will tries to make Hannibal jealous. Needless to say, it works. Set during the second half of season 2.
This was hot PWP, love Will Graham being a size queen.
SEMI-BUTLER by TheSeaVoices
Word Count: 23714 Summary: A modern day Master/servant Hannigram AU. This idea came to me whilst working (literally on my hands and knees applying gold leaf) in one of the extraordinary Cheshire mansions I find myself in surprisingly regularly. I am continually surprised by the inexplicably loyal staff managers (nobody ever says the word BUTLER - but they are), proudly servile and selfless.Will inherits such a property in North West England, complete with staff and an interesting sort-of-butler who enjoys his work. REALLY enjoys his work.Also inspired by Jeeves and Wooster which I'm currently re-reading and loving, and all butlers everywhere. Oh, and Men On Edge :)Encouragement, ideas and pointers have really helped, thanks to:@weconqueratdawn@thecountessolivia@zigzagwanderer@aviran007@zacharybosch@fragile-teacup (Mrs_Gene_Hunt)
This was so OOC for Hannibal and Will, BUT i loved them anyway, and the sheer creativity when it came to the smut ramped this up to five stars for me!
Graham Cam by bigfootghostdick
Word Count: 19363 Summary: In nearly every aspect of his life, Hannibal is wholly unabashed in the endeavors he chooses to take on, especially where Will is concerned. At his core, he lives outside the realm of societal norms, so in a twisted effort to learn more about the beautiful empath that has captured his attention so utterly, he decides to install hidden cameras inside Will’s home.Will is blissfully unaware…or is he?
Will Graham showing off for Hannibal on the cameras Hannibal set up without telling Will? God, this was perfect.
It takes four by TheRosetteThief
Word Count: 4893 Summary: Adam confesses that he has a dirty fantasy to Hannibal. Hannibal talks him into letting him help him act it out with Will and Nigel.It's really just shameless foursome smut written for my lovely friends.
okay yes this is technically not just hannigram, but HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA good lord, I think if I could be Adam in this scenario, that would fix me.
The Pleasure Was Ours by wyldefire
Word Count: 4215 Summary: “Hear that, Han? Fucking your boy full. He fucking loves my cock.” Nigel teased, reaching up and tweaking at a nipple, nearly drawing a cry from Will’s lips. “Hush. Go on, Will. What else?” Hannibal replied, unfazed by his brother’s taunts. “And… And… I need… I need more. Fuck, Hannibal, I need more. I need more. Please.” Will begged. “What do you need, William?” Hannibal inquired. “You.”
Once again, not strictly Hannigram but... yeah, I'll see myself out. Trans Will in this was perfect.
A Joy Hard Learned in Winter was the Warming of the Bed by omnilegent
Word Count: 2709 Summary: The doctor took the key and opened the door, revealing a pretty standard motel room. Small en-suite with the light still on, terrible TV leaning precariously off the wall, clean but worn out to almost complete smoothness carpet. And only one bed.Ah.‘Adequate.’ Hannibal sniffed, hanging his coat up and feeling the fluffiness (or lack thereof) of the pillows.‘Yeah?’ Will asked, nervous that Hannibal was going to demand another room out of disgust.‘It’s only a night, after all.’ He gave Will a look, fond with a teasing twinkle that he couldn’t quite understand. ‘Unless you would be uncomfortable?’‘No!’ Will replied all too fast. ‘No. Better than the car.’ He tried to quip, but Hannibal’s smirk grew toothy.‘I assure you, I will keep you far warmer than the car heaters can.’—————The boys get stuck in a snowstorm and have to stay in a motel - but guess what? There was only one bed!
THERE WAS ONLY ONE BED.
Appetites of the Flesh by Magnetism_bind
Word Count: 2902 Summary: Will gets aroused at murder scenes. Eventually this gets noticed.
So this is a thing now for me, I guess!!!
The Business of Pleasure by Magnetism_bind
Word Count: 23888 Summary: Hannibal hires a hooker with the intention of eating him after he’s done fucking him.His plans change when he sees the hooker.
Give me moreeeeeeeeeeeeee.
A Little Unfinished Business by Magnetism_bind
Word Count: 26680 Summary: Ten years later Will Graham returns to Baltimore.
Sequel to The Business of Pleasure. Just as good.
Sweatpants by mattHughdancy
Word Count: 11736 Summary: It's gray sweatpant season and Will wears some for Reasons. Poor Hannibal is having a *hard* time.
Gimme more of the gray sweatpants please. Tbh me and Hannibal are very much on the same page here.
Wringing a Rock Dry by McRibFarewellTour
Word Count: 4556 Summary: (Between S2 and S3)Will’s sick. Sick enough that he’s pretty sure he’s going to die. Aware that winning their game is no longer an option, he decides to change the rules and go see Hannibal in prison.Hannibal does not appreciate this move.
OUCH. I've rec'd this one before, but I did a reread and it is just as good as it was the first (several) times!!!
~
and that's it for this month!! see y'all next month for the December rec list :)
#gracie reads hannigram#fic recs#hannigram fic recs#hannigram recs#hannigram#hannibal#will graham#hannibal lecter#murder husbands#mads mikkelsen#hannigram fic#nbc hannibal#hugh dancy
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Sae Itoshi x reader
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A/n: this is a pretty old fic i wrote a while back that i posted on my ao3 acc!!
Warnings⚠️: angst w/ comfort, established relationship, NOT proof read, VERY old fic that i wrote😭
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You and your boyfriend Sae have been together for 6 years now and living in a shared house.It was currently 12am and it was pouring outside, you were waiting on the couch for sae to come home two hours ago for your date but he hasn’t showed up. Not a single text or call from him, he’s done this many times but still you got worried and decided to call him, you should have done so earlier but you were too excited for your date night and haven’t thought about it thinking about what he was getting you, it was your anniversary after all.
As you pick up your phone and click his name you see the door opening, its Sae, “where were you?!?” You yelled, “you were supposed to be here two hours ago..” Sae looks at you with a tired and frustrated look, “ I’ll take you out tomorrow lets just go to bed im tired.” As anyone who was stood up for hours would you told him off “Excuse me!? Who are you talking to like that?! Why the hell were you gone for so long? Im not letting you leave until you answer me!” Anger was shown on your face as you started to clench your fists, what the hell was up with him? Sae just stares at you, not being able to figure out what he's thinking about you get infuriated “what, so your just gonna stare? Not even gonna answer a simple question. I see how it is then, fine I don’t care anymore. It’s not like this is the first time either.” You grab your things from the couch and start to walk out the door, before you could fully make it out a hand grabs you.
“What?” Sae just looks at you, this time you can see something, a look of guilt in his eyes, “please don’t leave..im sorry.” You just look at him and roll your eyes “you really think a sorry is gonna fix all the times you’ve stood up on me? Well it won’t. You’re gonna have to try harder than that sae. You know what? Don’t even bother messaging me tomorrow or calling because I’m not going to answer. If you try i’ll block you im done with your crap sae.” Your eyes water as you pull your arm back and speed walk out of your shared house and quickly get into your car and drive off. What you didn’t know is that the reasons for sae working late hours was because he was planning on proposing to you, he was waiting to take you out tomorrow to a fancy restaurant where you guys would eat breakfast and lunch, he was going to take you to your favorite peer and propose to you, everything was prepped and ready for that special day tomorrow. All sae could do was just burst into tears as he watched your car get farther and farther, he knows it was no excuse to leave you waiting for hours on end on dates that you guys would plan, but money was a little tight and he wanted to make everything perfect for you. He loves you, no..he adores you.
You where driving into your best friends house quickly getting out as tears poured down your eyes making them extremely puffy and red, ringing the door bell at least a dozen times and knocking your best friend opens the door quickly, she sees you and immediately shes worried for you. “What the hell?! [name] what the fuck what happened come inside quick before you catch a cold!”
After getting yourself situated and calm down a little you tell your best friend everything thats been happening. She knows about Sae’s plan but all she could do was give you a sad smile and try to comfort you. “Do you want to stay the night? You can stay in the guest bedroom.” She says. You nod your head in agreement and she leads you to the room, she leaves you alone to give you some space.
You decided to wear some of your friends guest clothes that you had found in the closet, after changing you look into the mirror. “What went wrong? I guess..nothing i do is ever good.”
You had a downcast expression, and questions were filling your mind why does he stay with you if he ditches you on dates? Is he tired of you? Does he perhaps think your ugly? …was he…cheating? You shake your head to try and get rid of the thoughts as you get ready to go to bed and soon fall asleep tears still staining your face, “maybe it’s just a dream, maybe tomorrow will be better.” Wrapping up the last of your thoughts as you start to fall asleep, mind going blank. That is, until you hear a knocking from the window. You quickly open your eyes “what was that?” You whispered maybe it was just a branch, either way whatever it was wouldn’t let you sleep till you knew for certain, slowly and quietly getting up from the bed you walk to the window opening the curtains, your eyes widen to your surprise..it’s sae! “What the fuck?” You quickly open the window and let him in “what the hell do you want? How did you even find me?” Sae looks at you and your surprised, was he crying? He quickly but gently cups your face “please [name] im so sorry, i love you so much im so sorry i-i didn’t mean to-“ his voice falters as he starts crying again, “ I didn’t mean to upset you i know I’ve been a bad boyfriend i promise i’ll make it up please i’ll do anything just forgive me my love, i love you so much please it’s not an excuse but I promise i’ll tell you why i left you waiting on all those dates please just let me explain…” he gets down on his knees wiping away his tears, all you could do was tear up as you got down to level with him and caress his cheek. He tells you everything. From the very beginning how hes been thinking about how he wants to propose to you to how he was going to take you out tomorrow. You just looked at him, you felt so stupid for this. “I..i don’t know what to say..” Sae hugs you tightly as he kisses your cheek, “im infatuated with you [name] i promise after this i’ll take you on as much dates as you want, i’ll make up to you for all the times i messed up, please don’t leave me.” You just hug him back as you bury your face into the crook of his neck as you start crying.
Some minutes pass as you both held each other in a tight embrace, as if one were to disappear if the other loosened their grip. Sae lets go and starts to pull something out of his pocket as he looks at you. “[name] no matter what happens i will always love and adore you, you’re the reason im able to do the things i do, if it wasn’t for you i’d be nothing, I couldn’t have made it this far without you. I love everything about you, from your personality to your smile, your looks, those little ‘imperfections’ about you that you complain about so much, everything about you from head to toe im in love with, i know right know isn’t the best time but…will you give me the honor of marrying you…will you marry me [name]?” Sae opens a black box that he took out from his pocket and opens it facing you to reveal a gorgeous diamond ring. Tearing up again you nod your head quickly, “yes yes of course sae of course i’ll marry you, i love you so much, I genuinely thought you hated me, i would always think that nothing i’d do was ever good. I thought I wasn’t good enough for you..” Sae looks at you in shock he quickly grabs your face with his free hand and kisses you, this wasn’t like any kiss you guys ever shared this one was different, it was filled with more love, passion, care, and adoration for you. You stop kissing as you guys hold each others faces, heads pressed against one another as your eyes close. He gently takes your hand and puts the ring on. As soon as this happens the door bursts open and the lights turn on, “What the fuck is going on here?” It was your best friend, you just smile and lift your hand to show her. She smiles brightly and chuckles “not the best proposal but its definitely the most passionate and genuine I’ve heard. You and Sae both smile at this, a look of confusion shows on your face, “Wait heard?”
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A/n: hope you enjoyed this lol i will be posting on and off in the future but using what I’ve currently been working on instead of old stuff i have like the one im posting, this was just for some kind of reference i guess lol bye bye!!
#bllk sae#itoshi sae#bllk x reader#bllk#blue lock#angst with a happy ending#angst#comfort#sae itoshi x reader
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Insult to Injury
A Test Drive by Zuesue for @honelle56 (T | WIP | 3k)
#injury recovery #emotional hurt/comfort My contribution to the End of the Summer Fic Exchange. Updates each day until complete
Thank you to @fujogie for sponsoring the collection, and thank you to @jess-total-mess and @dreastmilk for betaing.
Happy reading!
Fic underneath for those who prefer Tumblr over ao3
Dream remembers when George and Sapnap got the UTV.
He's not the greatest at keeping up with Sapnap's streams, but he tries to catch as many as he can. And when both his roommates are participating, he thinks it'd be rude to miss even with all the code he still needs to get done.
When they had gotten home, Dream had asked why they'd gotten a car they wouldn’t use.
“Bro lacks the vision,” Sapnap had said, making George cackle into his hands.
“I don’t lack anything,” he had retorted, which had made George wolf-whistle and Sapnap laugh. “No, shut up. George needs a car he can actually drive so he can learn.”
“He’s stupid too,” George chimed in, and if Dream had chucked a pillow at his head, that’s his business.
“No, no, listen,” Sapnap said. “It has all the shit a regular car has, brakes, steering wheel—”
“Wow, dude knows what’s in a car,” George drawled.
“—and it has a speed cap, so George can get all his fucking driving experience without being a menace to society.”
It had taken some convincing (because UTVs are fucking dangerous according to Dream), but Dream had come around to the idea, even if it was mostly lies so they could have a UTV. And even then, it had been a good source of happiness for them in the following rougher months, which Dream only saw as a positive.
It was a random day in May when George asked if he’d watch them ride it.
“You’re so boring, we’ve been at this all day, and you want to keep working,” George laments.
“It’s not that, I’m almost done—”
“You’ve said that already. Four times.”
Dream pauses and glances away from the monitor to where George sits. There's a computer now in the gym so they can fix code as they work. George is turned toward him in the office chair, and Dream notes the tiredness in his hunched-over posture. They’ve been at this for hours, he will admit, and George has been a great help the whole time. Has been for a while actually. “I have?”
George rolls his eyes, but he smiles. “Idiot,” he says. “Break for tonight. We can start again tomorrow.”
Dream looks back at the monitor. He is really close, he just has to adjust the rendering a tiny bit and—
“Dream.”
He glances over again. George is still smiling, but there’s a no-nonsense look in his gaze. “Please? Just for tonight?”
Dream looks again at George, at the days-old stubble, the hoodie he’s been wearing for two days just so he didn’t have to abandon Dream while he’s been working, and thinks he deserves a break.
He makes a show of rolling his eyes as he gets up.”You just want me to get you food.”
George’s eyes light up, but he still scoffs at Dream. They each have to play their parts. “That’s not true.”
“Is true.” He stretches up, feeling the cracks in his shoulders and spine. “Fuck.”
George laughs. “Bro’s getting old."
“Like you’re one to talk.”
George hunches over and makes a groaning noise. “Oh, I’m Dream, and my poor back hurts from all the dicks in my ass—”
“George!” he exclaims, scandalized, and George laughs again, bright and loud in the space.
“We should do something,” George says.
“Like what?”
“Like, go out, do something active. I’m too tired to sit.”
Dream walks toward George, and the two make their way out of the gym. “How does that even work?”
“Dunno, but my butt’s gonna fall off if we don’t do something.”
“Well, we wouldn’t want you to lose your best asset.”
“Asset. Ass-et. Get it?” He elbows Dream’s side.
“You’re so dumb.” They’ve reached the kitchen, and George beelines for the fridge. He pulls out a bottle of water and (quite dramatically) drinks it all in one chug. “We have a fridge in the gym,” Dream reminds him.
George shakes his head. “Doesn’t taste right.”
Dream doesn’t get it, but he knows George has his quirks, like only wearing a specific brand of sock because it’s “just right” or the way he tidies his sheets but not the pillows when making his bed. “Well,” he says, “since you’re no longer dying of thirst, what do you wanna do?”
George thinks for a minute before he brightens. “Have you seen me drive the UTV yet?”
He hasn’t. Every time George and Sapnap went to mess around with it, he politely excused himself. Although he likes that George is getting "driving" experience, he has his reservations about the safety of it.
Then again, George has been quite accommodating for his antics, so maybe it’s time he returned the favor.
“No, you wanna grab Nick?”
“Yeah!” George runs off, and Dream hopes Sapnap isn’t busy and George isn’t about to terrorize him.
Even if it’s fruitless.
An hour later, Dream sits watching his idiot friends drive up sandy hills on their UTV. The off-roading park allows members to keep their vehicles there, fueled and ready, and since it’s not on Dream’s bill, he’s happy to watch them goof off all night long.
Just then, he sees the UTV careen over a hill and come crashing down thirty feet away.
“Holy fucking shit!” Sapnap yells from the driver’s seat, a wide grin plastered across his face. George whoops beside him, clearly gleeful.
A few seconds later, he sees George and Sapnap undo their seatbelts and make their way over to where Dream is sitting.
“Impressed?” Sapnap asks, breathing heavily.
Dream hums. “Thought George would be driving,” he says, “since it’s his car after all.”
“Am I not good enough for you?” Sapnap gives him a puppy-eyed look.
Dream laughs. “You’re a good driver, Nick.”
“Hell yeah!” he shrieks. George pouts at Dream.
“I’m a good driver too.”
“Not from my point of view,” he says. George meets the challenge with a blaze in his eyes. He smirks.
“Alright.” George walks off, and this time, climbs into the driver’s seat.
Sapnap plops down next to Dream and pulls out his phone, aiming it toward George. “Woo!” he screams. “Kitten’s driving!”
He can see George scoff from where he sits. He takes off, doing a tight turn before hurdling up a hill.
Sapnap cheers beside him, and Dream thinks, This isn’t so bad.
“Dream, look!” he hears. He shields his eyes and looks to where he heard George.
The UTV is now on top of the biggest hill. George is standing next to it, waving.
“I’m gonna go down it!” he yells.
“Do it, pussy!” Sapnap yells back. Dream nudges him for the comment, but he joins the cheering.
George slides into the driver’s seat and straps himself in. Dream hears the motor roar from where he sits, and he watches the UTV gun it down the hill. Sapnap raises his phone higher, most likely to get a better angle as dust billows behind the truck. It speeds down the hill, toward the ground, and—
It happens.
The UTV catches on a rock. It flips.
One.
Two.
Three times.
It slams into a hill.
It stops.
Then, silence.
“GEORGE!”
Dream takes off running toward the UTV. He was wearing his seatbelt, he’s gonna be fine. "GEORGE!"
But then why hasn't he answered yet?
“George, are you good!?” He’s at the UTV. He climbs the hill to get closer. “George?”
George is hanging awkwardly in the harness, barely sitting in the seat anymore. His eyes are open, gazing forward. He's breathing, though. Dream can hear it. He reaches out a hand and presses it against George’s face. It’s an awkward angle, the UTV is slanted on the hill, but he needs to see, needs to feel that George is alright.
George’s face is sticky with dirt and sweat when he presses a hand to his cheek. But it’s still warm and soft like Dream always imagined, and he can feel the breath on his arm.
George blinks, and Dream breathes.
“George.” His other hand brushes the hair out of Georgge’s eyes. “You alright?”
George is still hanging in his harness. Dream leans over to unbuckle him and accidentally nudges George, causing him to hiss.
“Wha—did I hurt you?” Dream asks, pulling back a step.
“Head,” George groans, and something bad curls in Dream.
“Your head...hurts?” George tries to nod but groans again.
“I don’t—didn’t hit it,” George says. Dream gently, ever so gently, cards his fingers through George’s hair to feel for bumps or blood.
He finds nothing, but when Dream looks to George to tell him, he notices something.
Dream looks at people. A long part of his career was watching his friends on streams, and, since his face reveal, he has spent a lot of time memorizing what people’s faces look like outside of a screen. He knows what George looks like, can tell how long his stubble has been growing, when he needs to take George to get a haircut, what he looks like when he's tired, upset, in pain.
As he’s looking into George’s eyes, there’s something wrong. They aren’t focusing on Dream; they’re dazed and unfocused.
And the bad feeling inside Dream gets worse.
“Let’s get you out of there.” He’s careful this time as he leans over and unbuckles George, carefully distributing George’s weight onto him as he pulls him out onto the sand.
At that moment, Sapnap appears.
“I called for help, they’re getting another vehicle to come pick us up and take us to the road,” he says, and Dream loves him.
“Thank you, Nick.” He looks back at George, who’s squinting at Sapnap.
“Look funny,” he says, and Dream chokes.
“And you look stupid.” But there’s a tenderness to Sapnap’s gaze, and Dream understands he’s equally as worried as he is.
A vehicle comes over the hill and stops next to the UTV. With a bit of maneuvering, they get George secured into the back alongside Dream. Dream has his arm slung around George’s shoulder for support as they navigate back to their car.
“We’re gonna get you checked out,” he promises. “We’ll drive straight to a clinic.” George doesn’t respond, but he presses closer to Dream, and that's enough for now.
Time both moves fast and slow as they get George to a doctor. Fast in that it's a blur. Slow as in every bump that makes George wince makes fear twist inside Dream.
He was wearing a seatbelt, he thinks. He’s gonna be okay.
The nurse checking out George is thorough. She asks questions, flashes lights, and writes her findings on a clipboard. She gets George’s details from Dream (he has George’s insurance card saved into his phone) and tells them the doctor will be in soon before she leaves.
George lays on the hospital bed. They turned down the lights in the room, so George isn’t squinting anymore. But, his face still conveys pain.
“My head’s still hurting.”
“The nurse says she can’t give you pain meds just yet.” If he didn't know already that giving pain medication would only slow the nurses down, he would’ve gone to the pharmacy himself to grab some for George. But, his mom’s voice reminds him that pain is often a good symptom of where the hurt is, and so he stays put.
“Don’t worry, George,” Sapnap says. “When we get back, I’ll let you have some of my special gummy bears.” He wiggles his eyebrows, and George snorts.
“Thanks, I guess.” There’s silence for a second. “Did you get it on video?”
“What are you—oh yeah!” Sapnap pulls out his phone and taps in his passcode. “It was kinda sick actually.”
“Can I see?” George tries to sit up, but Dream (ever so gently) pushes him back down.
“No. The nurse said no light until the doctor returns.”
“Oh, c’mon Dream,” Sapnap whines.
“Oh, c’mon, remember? He used to say that.” George has his stupid grin on his face, and Dream is only a bit relieved that he’s at least feeling well enough for mockery.
Just then, the nurse comes back in with what Dream supposes is the doctor.
“Hi everyone!” she says, focusing her attention on the figure in the bed. “You must be George.”
“Yes ma’am,” he says. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Sapnap muffling a laugh.
“I am Dr. Smith. I’m the resident neurologist for this floor.”
“Neurologist,” Dream says. “So it is a brain problem.”
She nods, but there is no tightness to her face when she looks at George. “You seem to have a minor concussion. I was told he was in a car accident?” She looks toward Dream at that.
He clears his throat. “Well, yes and no,” he starts. “He was messing around with our UTV, but he was wearing a seatbelt though, so we didn’t—I didn’t think he’d get hurt?”
She hums. “Concussions don’t necessarily occur because of impact. They occur when the brain bounces around inside the skull.”
“The UTV flipped a bunch,” Sapnap says. “Could that’ve caused it?”
“Yes, that would explain the bruising. I would still be very glad you were wearing a seatbelt, for I’m sure we would be having a very different conversation if he was without it.”
George is still hurt though, Dream’s brain adds. He shakes it off.
Dr. Smith is talking again to George. “We’ll be giving you a list of what you can and can’t do during your recovery. You’ll most likely want to avoid computer screens, TVs, anything with bright lights. You’ll also want to avoid doing anything mentally strenuous for the first few days. We saw a lack of concentration in your testing, so we want to keep on top of that.”
George speaks up: “But, my work—it's all computers and screens.”
Dream turns to George. “We can figure stuff out or take a break,” he assures. “We can pause the project for now.”
George’s face looks pained again. Dream wishes they could give him medicine. “No,” he says, “I can’t, you—”
“We can provide a doctor’s note if necessary, but using electronics will stunt your recovery. For at least two weeks, you need to stay away from screens.”
Two weeks, Dream thinks, as Dr. Smith goes on about migraine recovery. George is gonna hate this.
George looks like he’s hating this. His lips are pressed together in a thin line, and his brows are furrowed. For a moment, Dream wants to smooth the lines out from his face, but he knows now is not the time.
“We’ll be keeping you overnight for observation.” Dr. Smith gives Dream a form. “We’ll get George to a room as soon as a gurney frees up.” She hands him a pen as well. “If you need help, press the call button.”
And with that, the two leave the room. George turns to face the wall.
Dream looks over the form. It’s various medical jargon and information. He starts filling it out while Sapnap goes over to George.
“So, concussion,” he states. Dream hears George scoff.
“Glad you were paying attention,” he snarks over his shoulder.
“Well, since I’ve actually been concussed before, I was going to offer to grab all the usual shit you need, but since you’re being a little bitch—”
“Nick,” Dream interrupts. He would usually let them fight it out, but Dream sees the tense lines in George’s back, and thinks this isn’t the time. Sapnap glances over to him and must see something too because he huffs and backs off.
“Got it,” Sapnap grumbles. He turns back to George. “Want me to grab anything else while I’m out?”
George turns his head back over. “Sushi?” he asks, and Dream can see a glint of mischief.
Sapnap must see it too, because he softly laughs. “Should’ve guessed that.” He grabs his phone and stands up. “I’m assuming you’ll be staying too?” he says to Dream.
Dream nods. It isn’t a question in his mind, but it makes sense why Sapnap asks.
“K, see you at home.” With that, Sapnap walks out, making sure to shut the door quietly behind him.
Dream continues to work on the form while George stares at the ceiling. A few minutes later, a team arrives to help George get up to the observation room. Dream follows dutifully behind, carrying George and his phone.
Once they’re settled in, with George in the bed and Dream sitting in a chair beside him, finally done with the forms, he finally asks the question.
“How are you feeling?”
George continues fiddling with the sheets. The hospital provided pajamas for him, as it was long past the early evening it was when they took the UTV for a spin. The lights are dimmed low, shadows casting across the room and across George’s face.
“Could be better,” he mumbles. “Head still hurts.”
“The nurse gave you pain medication, right?” He’s sure at some point a nurse came in and gave George pills.
“Yeah,” he says. “Still hurts though.”
Dream nods and scoots his chair closer. There’s a beat of silence, then George says, “I’m sorry.”
Dream looks at his face. “For what?”
“The pause—it was only for tonight.”
“The pause,” Dream says again. “You mean…for the project?”
“Yeah,” George mumbles, hunching over slightly as he continues to fiddle with the sheets.
“George, I don’t—I’m not thinking about that right now,” he says. “I’m just so glad you’re okay and that it’s going to be okay.”
George rolls his eyes. “I’m not gonna be able to work for weeks, Dream. How is that okay?”
“Because—okay, look.” He reaches out and grabs George’s hand to stop him from tearing the blanket to shreds. George’s hand falls still under his touch. “The project’s been delayed so many fucking times. One more time is not going to kill us.”
He feels George’s hand twitch under his palm. “But it’s not—it was stopped before because of the code,” he starts. “Not because of—not because I couldn’t help.” He hasn’t met Dream’s eyes yet.
Dream moves and sits on the bed. George’s hand twitches again in his grasp. Dream squeezes it, gentle, soft. “George,” he says, “two weeks is not the end of the world. This stuff, this technology, it’s gonna change the world. It can wait two weeks while my best friend recovers.”
He sees a ghost of a smile flash across George’s face. He presses on: “The nurse says no screens or bright lights for at least two weeks. So, you can’t code. But you can help me render shit, set stuff up once your doctor clears you, or we can sit in bed for two weeks. But all that really doesn’t matter, because I’d rather you get better quicker than you hurting yourself because you want to help me.”
“And I’m fine waiting for you,” he adds. “We’ve already gotten this far, and we’re this close. A two-week break isn’t going to change that. Plus.” He turns to smirk at George. “Weren’t you the one before now who was asking for a break?”
George groans, but he’s smiling now, and that’s all that matters. “Alright,” George says. “If you insist, I guess I could take a break.”
“I’m glad.” He’s smiling now too. George turns his hand over to squeeze Dream’s. Once. Twice. Three times. Dream’s smile grows wider.
“I love you.” Even in the darkness, he can see George’s blush, and it makes Dream’s heart flutter.
“Idiot.” But he’s smiling too, and that’s all that matters.
#rei speaks#dreamwastaken#dream#dtblr#gnf#georgenotfound#DNF#DreamNotFound#Rei recs#fic rec#Rachel speaks#iti
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Post- Silver Lake Brainrot
I've wanted to put one of these together for a long time (..a long, long time 🎶), and just never did it. With the new year upon us I thought it would be a great time to finally give it a go.
If you are like me and need to know what happened after Joel and Ellie walked away from Silver Lake, here are some fics to scratch that post-8/winter itch. For now I will just list them below, but I may eventually compile them into like a public Ao3 bookmark collection (if I can figure out that magic). [Started! Click the link]
These are going to be the mostly canon compliant/canon-vibes fics, and that's not to say other alternate version of event fics aren't good, I'm just not focusing on them atm here :)
Under the cut, the list is broken down into five fic length categories. Stories are not in any sort of order within each group, and I was only pulling from Archive, so if there is a Tumblr original floating around out there that you are surprised didn't make the list, that is why. In the same vein, I know I probably missed a lot of Ao3 fics. If you think something should be included (ao3 or Tumblr) just let me know!
And lastly, if you click n' read on any of these please try to give the writer some love via kudos or comments! ✨ Spread the good vibes!!
[Disclaimer - If I could find the author's Tumblr I have @'d them, but if I couldn't it's their ao3 name only. If you know an author's tumblr and I haven't linked it, or I have chose the wrong tumblr, or you just don't want your tumblr linked, please feel free to reach out and I will edit!]
𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐟𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐝𝐨....
🅰 🅵🆄🅻🅻 🅰🆂🆂 🅱🅾🅾🅺 (100k+)
>> please don't go by @toointojoelmiller
🅱🅸🅶 🅱🅾🆈 🅲🅻🆄🅱 (10k+)
>> Understanding Your Daughter Who isn't Really Your Daughter by @onlinepigeon
>> Back & Forth by @probssomethingorother
>> Dinosaur by @femmefacetious
>> I've come to know (life is a slow, beautiful heartbreak) by @the-relvin-temult
>> In the After by @probssomethingorother
>> and with you alone by @penandinkprincess
🅼🅴🅰🆃🆈 (5-10K)
>> Awake and Dreaming by @wordswordswords7
>> Let My Arms Bring You Comfort by @ellies-little-gun
>> There's no need to be brave by stained_glass_horizon
>> when she needed me i wasn't around by @periwinklwt
>> drifting by some_pomegranate_tea
>> i start for the great temple by @march-flowerr
>> cold is the water by @marceltheshellwithflipflopson
>> fix me up by survivorellie
>> if we make it through december (we'll be fine) by @marceltheshellwithflipflopson
>> teeth as sharp as cathedral spires by @actual-changeling
>> life, in the after by @dad-joel
>> things we lost to the flames by @dancingonmoonbeams
>> you’re my baby, say it to me by alternatemind
>> Winter's Edge by mikichi
>> the view between villages by @howlingbuchanan
>> Silver As The Snow (it must be cold) by @cgetbrmj
>> Keep Going for You by @someone-worth-racing-for
>> i’ll be coming home soon (long as i can see the light) by @outer-edges
>> This Bitter Earth by mahuika
>> Back to the Middle of Nowhere by @wordswordswords7
>> triage by @penandinkprincess
🆂🅼🅰🅻🅻 🅱🆄🆃 🅼🅸🅶🅷🆃🆈 (3-5k)
>> hold me twenty minutes to sleep (and some things you just can't speak about) by @compassinmyhead
>> Violent Heart by @timelesslords
>> I'll See Us Through by GardenerSnake8822
>> Please Hold Me While I Break Apart by @ellies-little-gun
>> there is fear in love by @durincorporated
>> never let you down again by @timelesslords
>> nothing but bones by gravefaeries
>> a wall between us and the world by @afjakwrites
>> these things eat at your bones (and drive your young mind crazy) by @outer-edges
>> Push through it by @probssomethingorother
>> Let Me Help You by arnabus
>> i'm beyond repair, let me be by thisisthehill_i_die_on
>> rambles and promises and bedtime stories by some_pomegranate_tea
>> never let me go by @ggardengirl
>> to see what i see (woe is me) by awoodenthicket
>> Reassurance by little_mack101
>> facultative by @penandinkprincess
>> it's how we show love by @outer-edges
>> care (how love is shown) by cosmic_idiot1
>> you love me so hard and i still can’t sleep by @marceltheshellwithflipflopson
>> aftermath by @boopernatural
>> With every heartbeat I have left I’ll defend your every breath (I promise I’ll do better) by @memelovescaps
🆀🆄🅸🅲🅺 🅲🅾🅽🆂🆄🅼🅿🆃🅸🅾🅽 (<3k)
>> i’ve always had a violent heart by @mattsbooknook
>> The Parable of the Lost Sheep by riversiders
>> Aftermath by @purplesunrisefanfic
>> how our souls, born to heal, become so prone to die? by @apuliae
>> A Violent Heart by @val-creative
>> No Apologies by @mentallyinlothlorien
>> Aftermath by galaxiesreader
>> These Hands are Clumsy Not Clever by my_immortal_parody
>> never goes away (but it all works out) by @timelesslords
>> Cargo by @mentallyinlothlorien
>> so slip your hand inside my glove (hold me) by @dulce-chisme
>> it's how we show love by @outer-edges
>> Lullaby by @sillysunshinesstuff
>> unforgiven by @eedsknees
>> Endure & Survive by iheartjoelmiller
>> you may bury my body, down by the highway side by ChristmasEve12
>> Touch Me Not by Sokeyy
>> Aftermath by HurtandComfortWriter
>> Broken Violent Heart by ARightFarPiece
>> Indelible Scars, Pivotal Marks. by thefactimadethissaystomuch
>> every night i dream of you by @anpantae
>> Winter's Fury by @dinobotbitch
>> The Aftermath by lettucehater007
>> you are my purpose by prefectrainflowers
>> Be Fruitful and Multiply by Rainy_Rayne
>> do you ever think of me and my two hands? by @eedsknees
#WHAT HAVE I DONE#That was alot#but the brainrot must be rotted#there may or may not be almost 100 fics here#76 to be exact#for now atleast#the last of us#tlou#tlou fic#the last of us fanfiction#silver lake#winter aftermath#post episode 8#a strange bookclub of sorts#ao3#joel and ellie#joel miller#ellie williams#tipsy bison#the tipsy bison#fanfiction recommendation#fic rec#fanfiction rec list#ao3 fanfic
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love u lately (m) #10 | myg/knj/pjm
title: love u lately chapter title: #10 - honey pairing: yoongi x f. reader, namjoon x f. reader, jimin x f. reader (yoonminjoon x f. reader) rating/genre: m (18+) ; smut ; college/university au , pseudo frat! bts; best friends! yoonminjoon friends to lovers; summary: you decide, after the strangest and most chaotic night, that it is time to come home. but how will you manage to settle all these matters with your fellow housemates and loves of your life? Easy. Through a powerpoint presentation and some deep convos. warnings: implied sex, texts from WHO, scolding, frat intervention, A LOT OF FLUFF, comedy, the bonobos, other fic ref, AND MORE CONFESSIONS, DEEP TALKS, more rom-com fluff, WE'RE REACHING THE RESOLUTION ARC note: @daegudrama has been busy with her sushi chef arc but please send her love because she still edited this despite being busy. apologies if there are some error, i will fix them more once the fic ends. total word count: 7.8k drop date: May 24th, 2024, 5PM PST cross posted on AO3 here ← #9 | Series Masterlist | #11
March 2nd [Saturday]
It’s as if once all these confessions about love come to light, and things begin to slowly change. As you awaken to the gentle light filtering through the curtains, you find Namjoon lying beside you, his features illuminated by the morning sun. The sight of him, peaceful in slumber, warms your heart as you reach for your phone on the bedside table, the events of the previous night still fresh in your mind.
You click on the screen to see the home screen.
"Huh? I got texts from a number I don’t know last night," you murmur aloud, prompting Namjoon to stir beside you, his morning voice heavy with sleep yet undeniably alluring.
“What does it say?” He inquires, his morning voice groggy, but deeper than usual. It’s kind of hot. Fuck.
“Uh,” You unlock the phone to read the first message, “Wait, it’s from Jihyo? How did she even get my number…” Your voice trails off as you read the message. Namjoon’s eyes widen a bit.
Unknown [12:34AM]: Hi? Is this Y/N? Unknown [12:34AM]: It’s Jihyo. Unknown [12:35AM]: I know this is so random since we never talked, but I just wanted to reach out and tell you about Namjoon. If he hasn’t told you yet, he likes you.
"That’s very… blunt," you remark, passing the phone to him. He swiftly reads all the messages with a furrowed brow, his hand coming up to rub his face, frustrated.
"What?" you prompt, sensing his unease as he hands the phone back to you.
"Shit…" he mutters, his gaze fixed on the screen as you continue reading.
Unknown [12:37AM]: I’ve been debating to even bother telling you this, but I went to a GOT party with Namjoon back in October.
The party where the universe shifted for you and all of this started. The same party where you saw Namjoon and Jihyo kissing, which tore at your heart and made your soul rage. What more about that night did you not know as you and Yoongi were locked in the confines of the Gamma bathroom and later on in your bedroom.
Unknown [12:39AM]: Namjoon had pregamed with a couple of guys before we decided to drop by the Gamma house and by the time we got here, he was slowly losing it. At some point, he started blabbering about you and how he didn’t like you crushing on JB and complaining about his frustrations. Unknown [12:40AM]: I was getting annoying but I played along and asked him if he liked you. I didn’t think much of it but then he said “yeah…but i can’t”. ???? I was so done at this point! I was about to leave the party, but Namjoon kept sweet-talking me and then he kissed me and I kissed him back…
“Namjoon…” You pause, your gaze flickering up to Namjoon with a mix of disbelief and confusion. His gaze meets yours, and he offers no explanation, simply urging you to continue reading.
“Keep reading.” He says. You do.
Unknown [12:41 AM]: We came back to my place and I was still upset. I didn’t know what to do with him. He clearly wasn’t as into me as I thought, so I called Hoseok and he came to his side. I went to bed, and I told Chaeyeong to let them stay in the living room even though she was close to kicking his ass. And they left the next morning and I broke up with him not long after.
"You’re so!? Agh!" you exclaim, your voice muffled by your palm as you struggle to find the right words. Yes, you’re glad that he’s finally confessed his feelings to you, but to make other girls suffer because of his indecisiveness!? Maybe you shouldn’t talk.
"Let’s just say you and I are both indecisive. That makes us soulmates, doesn’t it?" Namjoon offers, his lips curling into a teasing smile as he leans in to kiss your forehead.
You can't help but chuckle at his attempt to lighten the mood, though the weight of the situation still hangs heavily in the air.
"I’ll text Jihyo and thank her for confirming how crazy you are sometimes," you quip, eliciting a playful eye roll from Namjoon.
After you and Namjoon fucked each other the whole night, you both talked in the morning about the confession, the fight, and coming back to the house. If the events from last night hadn’t happened, you firmly believe you would be more hesitant to return. But now that you’ve had more time to think and talk with him about it, you decide that it’s time to go back and settle things with Yoongi and Jimin. Namjoon helps you pack up your stuff in your luggage and you both return to the frat house.
You leave Hwasa a note saying you decided to come home to the boys, and apologize if the room smells like sex (you blame Namjoon). You open the windows to air it out though! But you know for sure she is going to spam your phone with questions later when she gets back.
+++++++++++
“I’m back…” You announce, quite awkwardly as you await a bombardment of concerns.
"What the fuck happened last night?" Yoongi stares down at you and Namjoon as he fully opens the front door. You didn’t expect him to open the door. When you peek inside, you see the three men who invited you out to a party last night sitting on the couch, looking a bit anxious and annoyed. Maybe even hungover. Are you guys about to enter a frat house intervention…?
"Yeah, about that…" Namjoon begins, his voice trailing off as he runs a hand through his tousled hair, clearly feeling the weight of the situation.
Jin's presence behind him prompts Namjoon to glance in his direction, seeking some form of support or guidance. However, Jin's response is swift and deflective. "Don't look at me! He immediately knew something was off," he declares, his tone a blend of amusement and exasperation. “So I had to tell him where you guys were at. Don’t kill me!”
Typical Yoongi. He’s similar to Namjoon in noticing things are off, but he’s much more active in doing something about it.
Despite the tension in the air, Jin's response manages to elicit a small chuckle from the others, breaking the ice just enough to ease the palpable discomfort in the room.
Yoongi's expression shifts to frustration, his gaze flickering between you and Namjoon. "They’re refusing to speak, so you better tell me what went down," he demands, folding his arms across his chest expectantly.
Namjoon takes a deep breath, his shoulders tense with the weight of the impending confession. "Okay, well…" he begins, casting a sideways glance at you for support before launching into the story time of the previous night's events.
As Namjoon recounts the sequence of events, from the impromptu party invite from Hoseok, Jungkook and Taehyung to the unexpected reunion with Yeonjun, you can't help but feel a sense of unease settle in the pit of your stomach. Then he explains that he fought Yeonjun to protect you and then took you back to Hwasa’s dorm where you were staying. He doesn’t mention that you guys did it last night though.
Yoongi listens intently, his expression morphing from frustration to concern as the full extent of the situation becomes clear. "Holy fuck," he mutters under his breath, running a hand through his slowly growing hair in disbelief. "That's… damn…."
Yoongi turns to you and grabs your shoulders gently “A-Are you okay though?” Yoongi asks, stuttering a bit. The action catches you a bit off guard since you haven’t talked to Yoongi in the last two weeks, let alone be touched by him.
“I’m okay.” You respond simply, with a small smile. This eases Yoongi’s mind and relaxes him because he was concerned you would act cold towards him still.
Jin nods in understanding, his expression reflecting a mixture of sympathy and exasperation. "As long as you’re okay. What's done is done," he remarks pragmatically. “Boys, you’re off the hook now.”
Jungkook, Taehyung and Hoseok sigh in relief now that they’re free from the intervention they were stuck in.
“What about Honey and…her… situation?” Taehyung asks, hesitating to explicitly mention the situation as he is aware Namjoon doesn’t know. “I mean, she came back, didn’t she?” All eyes turn to you.
Namjoon sighs, realizing everyone’s trying to walk on eggshells and not address the elephant in the room. “I knew about it, Taehyung,” he starts, causing everyone to gasp, as they expected a wildly different response from him about the threeway situationship. “Well, I had a suspicion, but I talked about it with Tiny last night.”
“That makes things easier to talk about then.”
The sound of a new voice in the conversation and footsteps descending the stairs draws everyone's attention. It’s Jimin, who has been overhearing the conversation from upstairs. Was it since you got there? You’re not sure. He’s rubbing his eyes when he spots you at the door. His eyes widen, and you can see a sense of relief in his expression upon seeing you again after some time.
“Y/N…” Jimin’s tone is soft, almost sounding like he could break into tears at seeing you. Perhaps there's a sense of regret for lashing out at you two weeks ago. He was frustrated that you couldn’t make a decision, but he hated that the alcohol that day only made those thoughts worse.
You're glad to see him too. With his presence, it's easier for you to respond to Taehyung’s question and also genuinely apologize for the things that have been going down.
“I’m so sorry about everything that’s been happening, but I’m going to settle this with you guys. Thanks to Namjoon who gave me an idea,” you say, looking toward everyone. “Would you all be able to regroup here in the evening while I get things ready?”
All the Beta Tau Sigma boys look at you, a little confused but intrigued to hear what you have planned.
They have no idea what you're about to cook up.
+++++++++++
“I have gathered you all here today for this important presentation.”
Just as you asked, everyone regrouped in the evening downstairs.
“And to reiterate once again, I am sorry for the all chaos.”
“You’re forgiven,” Jin says as he takes a seat, making all the guys nod in agreement. That is relieving to hear, you guess.
You screen mirror your computer screen to the Living Room TV screen. Namjoon, Yoongi, and Jimin sit on the couch watching you sway back and forth nervously next to the screen. Jin, Taehyung, Jungkook and Hoseok sit at the dining table, watching you from a distance.
“The Bonobos and… Us?” Jimin reads the presentation's title slide, squinting at the image of a primate below it. “Is that a monkey?”
“It’s an ape!” you correct him, a hint of exasperation in your voice.
“Okay, well, sorry,” Jimin replies with a shrug, indicating you to continue. “Go on.”
“Thank you,” Taking a deep breath, you navigate to the next slide, which displays bulleted points. "So, society has normalized relationships to be between two people," you begin.
"This is called monogamy, and it’s been the gold standard in our society for centuries," you continue, pacing back and forth in front of your audience. "From fairy tales to Hollywood movies, we're bombarded with images and narratives that glorify the idea of finding 'the one' and living happily ever after."
"But how often is life like Hollywood? The truth is, monogamy isn't one-size-fits-all," you explain. "Yet, it's portrayed as the only legitimate option for love and partnership. We're taught to believe that if we're not in a monogamous relationship, there's something wrong with us."
“How do the mon— I mean, apes, relate to all of this?” Yoongi asks.
“Oh! I’m glad you asked, because…” You excitedly click on the next slide, showing various images of bonobos engaging in various forms of social and sexual interactions. “They’re completely different from us!”
The men in front of you sit there in shock while the men at the table stare at you, dumbfounded. Jungkook’s mouth hangs open. Hoseok hides his mouth behind his hand; his eyes are wide with shock. Jimin turns around, looking at the others trying to make sure he’s not insane about what he’s seeing. Namjoon facepalms, unsure if he should laugh at how serious you are about this. Though, Jin does laugh.
“I’m going to need to take a shot of something before I hear whatever else you’re cooking up.” Yoongi gets up from the couch, grabs the tequila and a shot glass on the kitchen counter, and comes back to pour one out and down it. Well, you had already planned that they might need some alcohol before this, so you set it up there. He offers the bottle to Jimin, who only gives him a blank stare and shakes his head.
“Now, as I was saying,” You change the slide, “Bonobos are different. They’re not just with one partner. They form close bonds with multiple members of their community. The females are dominant and they have sex with everyone, using sex as a tool for social cohesion. It creates less conflict in their communities. They are peaceful and diplomatic.”
Yoongi raises his hand, and you gesture to him to go ahead and ask.
“I’m really trying hard to see where you’re going with this, Y/N.”
“I think even we’re all a bit confused,” Jungkook whispers from the back.
“Humans are apes, guys!” You groan. “And I think as fellow apes, we should adapt to this system that the bonobos have. We need to be the bonobos!” You excitedly look at Namjoon, Yoongi, and Jimin, who look a little more than concerned.
Jimin's eyes widen in surprise, his gaze flickering between you, Namjoon, and Yoongi. "Are you saying… we should all be together?"
You nod eagerly, a hopeful smile gracing your lips. "Why not? The Bonobos can do that! We already know each other well, so we could explore our feelings for each other openly and authentically and hope that with time, society can adapt that too. Plus I think society should, given that these rent prices are too much for 2 people."
There is stunned silence.
“And here are my sources.” You flip to the last slide of your PowerPoint. “Any questions?”
Yoongi speaks first. “You put sources on your PowerPoint about how we should all start fucking you… and each other?”
You sigh in response. Maybe this is the stupidest thing you’ve cooked up, and you’d hope the point would get across much easier. Alas, that did not happen.
Taehyung sits up straighter on his chair, eyeing you curiously. “Are we included in this offer too?”
“NO!” Namjoon, Yoongi, and Jimin shout back at him in unison.
“It was worth the shot,” Taehyung sinks down in his chair, a bit embarrassed to have even said that. Jungkook pats his back trying to comfort him, which makes you laugh.
“You guys keep interrupting me,” You sigh, “To answer Yoongi’s question, the bonobos do both. They’re bisexual. Even when they get into arguments, they settle it through sex, like rubbing their genitals together.”
Jimin splutters, whirling to face Namjoon. “Did you put her up to this?”
Namjoon nervously shakes his head, sending you a sharp look for backup.
“Okay, so Namjoon may have sparked the idea of the polycule… but I was the one interested in pitching this and used my notes from the Bio class I took last Spring on socialization of primeapes,” you argue.
“I see.” Jimin nodded slowly, narrowing his eyes at you.
“And I don’t expect you to answer me immediately on this suggestion. I made you wait a long time after all.” You glanced at the three men for a few seconds before looking down on the floor, “We can talk more 1 on 1 whenever you guys are free and then regroup.”
Jimin's expression softens, a hint of understanding dawning in his eyes. "I appreciate you giving us the time to think about this," he says, his voice sincere. "It's a lot to take in, but I love that you’re being open and honest."
He shyly shuffles in place before he resumes speaking. An apology. "I also want to apologize for the way I reacted at game night," he says, his voice laced with regret. "I shouldn't have let my emotions get the best of me."
You meet his gaze, feeling a sense of warmth spread through you at his apology. "Don't worry about it too much anymore," you reply, offering him a reassuring smile. "I'm kinda over it now, but we can talk about it more when we meet one on one if you want."
Jimin nods, relief evident in his eyes. "Thanks," he says, his voice genuine.
You smile gratefully at Jimin, feeling a wave of relief wash over you. It was a risk laying your feelings bare with this polygamous idea, but you're glad you did.
"Okay, guys let's take some time to think about it," Namjoon suggests, his tone thoughtful. "But I will say that I’ve been down for this idea since Tiny and I talked about it last night."
Yoongi nods in agreement, his expression contemplative. "Yeah, but we'll definitely need some time to process everything."
With that, the tension in the room eases, replaced by a sense of cautious optimism. You may not have all the answers yet, but you've taken the first step toward exploring a new possibility together.
As everyone begins to disperse, you catch Namjoon's eye, sharing a meaningful glance that speaks volumes.
Though when it comes to Yoongi and Jimin, you’re not completely sure how those conversations will end up going. You have to mentally prepare yourself if your talks with them end up going south.
+++++++++++
March 4th [Monday]
Hwasa's voice is a mix of disbelief and amusement as she processes the events you've just recounted. "So let me get this straight… you went out after you said you didn’t want to go because you got convinced by the beta guys, you got drunk, you ran into your ex-boyfriend and had a minor argument, and then Namjoon suddenly stepped in to fight him and then he took you back to my dorm and you two fucked?”
You nod sheepishly, feeling the weight of the absurdity of your situation pressing down on you. "That’s the gist of it… yeah. And I’m so sorry about fucking in your dorm!"
“It’s fine since you aired it out and cleaned, but… Oh, Honey… what kind of fucked up kdrama are you living?” Hwasa's laughter rings out, a mix of concern and amusement evident in her tone.
"I honestly don’t know! But it gets more… complicated? I just can’t talk about it much." Your voice trails off, the complexity of your feelings and the situation leaving you at a loss for words.
You feel like if you told Hwasa about the whole “polycule” plan, you’d immediately scare her into taking you to the campus psychologist. For now, you’ll just continue to see where things go before telling her.
As you ponder your next move, you feel a gentle hand touch your back, and you turn to see Soyoon arriving to join you and Hwasa for lunch. The three of you sit in the rooftop courtyard, basking in the warm sunlight and the secluded space to discuss your scandalous life while overlooking the campus.
“How are you doing, sweetie? I was so worried for you on Friday,” Soyoon asks, her voice filled with genuine concern.
“I’m doing a lot better now! Thank you for accompanying Joon!” you reply, offering her a grateful smile.
“Soyoon was there?! Man, I really fucking missed everything. The Sigma Party was so boring,” Hwasa interjects, her tone tinged with regret.
“I was hanging out with Namjoon and the other guys in his artsy group, and when he heard you might be in danger, he dropped everything to go find you.” Soyoon's voice is soft, her admiration for Namjoon evident in her words.
Hwasa's cooing and teasing make you blush furiously, and you shake your head in an attempt to ward off her playful remarks. But her laughter only grows louder. “Aww! Damn you truly got these men whipped for you!” she exclaims, her amusement bubbling over.
"So what's going to happen now? Are you going to go out with Namjoon?” She leans in closer to your face, making your cheeks redden even more from the proximity. “Because if you won't… maybe I will!" Soyoon jokes, a mischievous glint in her eye.
Maybe in January, you would’ve been a bit more apprehensive to hear her say that comment, but now? After Namjoon confessed to you in the pouring rain and gave himself to you? Nope. You have already overcome that obstacle.
Though, if things don’t end up working out with the polycule plan, will you still pick one of them in the end… or will you let them be free? Maybe in that scenario, Namjoon would get with Soyoon. Soyoon would be down for him, though if he’s not, she’s the type to just keep swimming and find the next thing to intrigue her.
Hwasa, always ready to add fuel to the fire, chimes in with her own teasing. "Oh shit! Y/N, you better decide soon this time!" she yelps, her laughter echoing through the courtyard.
You roll your eyes, feeling the weight of their playful banter. "Hey, I'm working on it, okay?" you retort, trying to sound confident despite the uncertainty swirling within you. "It's not like I can just flip a coin and decide my love life." You really can’t do that.
Soyoon raises an eyebrow, her expression teasing. "Why not? It worked for me once."
Hwasa bursts into laughter at Soyoon's remark, and you can't help but join in, the tension of the conversation easing slightly.
“Speaking of you choosing between your harem of lover boys, Lover Boy #2 is heading this way.” Hwasa's playful comment elicits a chuckle from you as you turn to see Jimin approaching. His casual charm and flirtatious grin make your heart flutter, despite your attempts to play it cool.
"Hi ladies, do y’all mind if I take this little one with me?" Jimin says, his tone dripping with playful affection as he sends you a teasing glance.
You raise an eyebrow at his nickname for you, but the warmth in his eyes softens the teasing edge. "Little one?" you repeat, feigning offense.
“Sure, go for it,” Hwasa giggles, her eyes dancing with mischief.
“Fine by me!” Soyoon adds with a playful wink in your direction.
You can't help but laugh at their antics. With a playful roll of your eyes, you turn back to Jimin, a teasing smile playing on your lips. “So, where are you taking me?”
Jimin grins, “Hmm… Let’s go to Yifang for boba? I’ll drive.”
“Ooh, smooth move, Jimin!” Hwasa chimes in with a knowing grin, while Soyoon adds, “Looks like Namjoon has another strong competitor in the ring!”
Jimin chuckles at their teasing, offering you his arm with a playful wink. “Shall we, little one?” he says, emphasizing the nickname with a playful twinkle in his eye.
You play along, linking your arm with his as you shoot a smug glance back at Hwasa and Soyoon. “Lead the way, I suppose, Jimin,” you reply, unable to hide the laughter bubbling up within you.
+++++++++++
You two decide to sit on a bench at a promenade near Yifang. The soft glow of the afternoon sun casts a warm hue over everything, lending a serene ambiance to the moment.
You take a sip of your drink, the sweet and refreshing taste of the boba sending a delightful shiver down your spine. Jimin glances over at you, a contented smile gracing his features as he takes in the peaceful scene. Reminding himself the reasons why he is in love with you.
“This is nice,” he remarks softly, his gaze drifting out towards a fountain. “I’ve missed spending time like this with you.”
You smile back at him, feeling a warmth spread through your chest at his words. “Yeah, me too,” you reply, your voice soft and sincere.
For a while, you both simply sit in comfortable silence, enjoying each other’s company and the tranquil surroundings. It’s moments like these that make you appreciate his existence, but also feel a bit embarrassed about you two even fighting weeks before.
“So—”
“Okay before we start talking about the polycule thing, I have to come clean and say that I accidentally sent Taehyung your nudes one night when I was drunk and that’s how he found out about our situationship before the fight.” Jimin blurts out.
The revelation hits you like a bolt of lightning, leaving you momentarily speechless.
“Huh? What!?” you manage to sputter out, your mind reeling with disbelief.
“I unsent them right after I noticed, of course! But he still saw them.” Jimin continues, his tone filled with remorse.
The weight of his words sinks in, and you feel a surge of mixed emotions wash over you. “I… So Taehyung… saw… oh my god, JIMIN!” you exclaim, struggling to process the information.
Jimin's eyes widen, his expression fraught with concern as he waits for your response. “I just wanted to say this because I don’t want any more secrets or hiding stuff. But if that’s something that will make you not want to be with me, I totally under—.”
“Jimin! It’s okay,” you interrupt, your voice gentle but firm. Despite the shock of his confession, you can't bring yourself to be angry. “That’s not going to stop me from loving you. Whatever things happened in the past mean nothing from this point moving forward.”
Relief floods Jimin's features, his tense shoulders sagging slightly as he exhales audibly. "I feel the same way," he murmurs, his voice tinged with gratitude. "Thank you. I was so worried about how you'd react."
You reach out to place a reassuring hand on his arm, offering him a small smile. "Hey, we're in this together, right?" you say softly, meeting his gaze with unwavering sincerity. “Even if… unfortunately Taehyung has seen me naked…”
Jimin nods, a grateful smile spreading across his lips. "Right," he agrees, his expression reflecting a sense of relief at your understanding. “So I guess since that’s out of the way, I can give you my thoughts on your crazy polycule idea.”
You're surprised by how quickly Jimin seems to have made up his mind about the whole polycule idea, especially considering you explicitly told him to take his time to think it over. It's as if he's been silently considering this possibility for a while now, and the urgency in his tone makes your heart flutter nervously.
“Okay.” You gesture your hands to signal him to go on.
"I've thought about the idea of being with you before, in that sense," Jimin admits, his words coming out carefully as he navigates the complexities of his thoughts. "And if it had to involve Namjoon and Yoongi, I wouldn’t care much because those thoughts also floated around before. Being sexual with each other works out." His casual demeanor catches you off guard, a reminder of just how unpredictable Jimin can be at times.
But then he hesitates, his brows furrowing in contemplation as he grapples with a deeper question. "But balancing being in a romantic relationship with all of us in it? Is it even possible to do that? I feel like we have different needs when it comes to you." His uncertainty hangs in the air, casting a shadow of doubt over the idea.
You consider his words carefully, the depth of his question sinking in as you search for a response. "Well, we've been best friends for so long," you begin, your voice calm and measured as you try to offer reassurance. "I think being romantic and intimate come naturally from how close we've been all this time." You take another sip of your strawberry milk tea boba, the sweetness of the drink giving you the energy to talk through this conversation carefully. But then something Jimin says catches you off guard, causing you to pause mid-sip.
"Wait, you've thought about a foursome with all of us? So you really are…"
Jimin shifts uncomfortably, his gaze momentarily averting yours as he struggles to find the right words. "Huh? Uh, yeah," he admits sheepishly, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "A couple of times, I mean, is that surprising?"
Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise, a small chuckle escaping your lips at his candid response. "No, well I've had suspicions," you confess, the words tumbling out before you can stop them. "Taehyung always mentions taking your virginity. And then when we had the threesome, you were pretty into it with Yoongi."
You kind of already had an idea that Jimin’s open with his sexuality and his experience extending from girls to guys as well. It's not something he’s discussed openly before though, and if you're considering taking your relationship to the next level, it's a conversation that needs to be had.
"Yoongi was the first one to know about me and Taehyung, so I trusted him since he also has a similar mindset as me," Jimin explains, a wistful smile playing on his lips as he reminisces about past conversations with his friend. "Though I think he's more Y/N-sexual than pan." He lets out a laugh, the tension in the air momentarily dissipating. "But otherwise, yeah, I'm down to be with you and share you with Yoongi and Joon, but I'm scared about balancing you."
You nod thoughtfully, understanding the gravity of Jimin's concerns. "Balancing multiple relationships is going to be challenging, I have no doubts," you acknowledge, your tone gentle as you reach out to place a reassuring hand on Jimin's arm. "But like we’ve said hundreds of times before. I think as long as we're honest with each other and communicate openly, we can make it work."
Jimin looks up at you, his eyes softening at your reassuring words. "You really think so?"
"I do," you affirm with a nod, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "We've been through so much together, Jimin. I believe in us."
A sense of relief washes over Jimin's features, his shoulders visibly relaxing as he exhales a deep breath. "Thank you, Y/N," he murmurs, his voice filled with gratitude. "For being so understanding and patient with me."
"No, thank you," you reply, offering him a warm smile. “You’ve dealt with my dramatic ass for years now, and yet you still fell for me.”
“Because I’m just as dramatic as you. It takes a special kind of person like me to handle that ass.” Jimin teases.
You chuckle at Jimin's sassy remark, shaking your head in mock exasperation. "Well, lucky for you, I happen to think your dramatic ass is pretty special too," you tease back, a mischievous glint in your eyes.
Jimin grins. "I guess we're just a perfect match then." Feeling giddy, Jimin takes a sip of your drink, his lips curling into a mischievous smirk.
You can’t help but feel so flustered at Jimin’s sudden actions. "You're really going to be the death of me, Park Jimin."
Your cheeks flush at his bold move, but you can't help but smile in return. His playful antics never fail to charm you. You lean in towards him and place an innocent peck on his lips, which leaves him in surprise for a second before he starts chuckling.
“You too L/N Y/N!”
You feel a surge of warmth in your chest, realizing how lucky you are to have him by your side. You intertwine your fingers with him as he drives back to campus, the comfortable silence between you filled with reassurance and forgiveness to move forward.
+++++++++++
March 6th [Wednesday]
“I’m still surprised that you’d be down for the polycule idea.” You comment to Namjoon as you put away returned library books on the bookshelves. You’re working a morning shift at the library and Namjoon decided that it was the best time to go read a book and drink a hot americano next to you. He sits on the floor and responds occasionally, his back leaning against the filled giant bookshelf.
“I’m down for whatever makes you happy, Tiny. I’ve always said that.” he says, without looking away from his book.
“But you’ve always been so…jealous. You didn’t like me talking to JB and you literally punched my ex. I’m honestly wondering how you’ll manage trying not to be jealous of Yoongi or Jimin if they agree to this.” You laugh.
“They’re different. I’m used to how Jimin is overly affectionate with you and everyone else. Even though I haven’t seen Yoongi be like that with you, I really don’t think it’ll be a problem.”
“Okay, but aside from that. What about you going abroad?” Namjoon’s eyes widen, caught a little off guard by the question. “You got in, didn’t you?”
“Yeah… but I won’t go if you don’t want me to.” He says sternly.
You sighed loudly, getting a little upset that he would put that pressure on you. “I’m not going to be the one to tell you to go or not. That is up to you, mister.” You boop him on the nose with your index finger. “Don’t force yourself to follow me, even if you’re in love with me.”
He chuckles, “Nah, I wouldn’t do that. I did get into Korea’s Yonsei program though.”
“Yonsei!? Wait, that’s like a Korean Ivy League school! Oh my god, congrats!” You lean down to hug him, encapsulating his whole body around yours due to him sitting down.
“I’ve always been at the top of my class, so it’s not a surprise I got in.” He giggles as he hugs you back.
“As expected of Kim Namjoon. Then I’m taking back my hug!” You remove yourself, which causes him to whine.
You laugh at his reaction, “Just leave me here with Yoongi and Jimin. I’ll be fine. Go on your study abroad. Just obviously don’t go cheating on me.”
“Never.” He pulls you back down and starts peppering kisses around your face.
You feel your face redden from his sudden behavior. Your heart begins to race and you stutter. “N-Namjoon…”
He leaves a final kiss on your lips, gentle and softly. “If Yoongi and Jimin don’t want to do this polycule shit, then just stay with me. I won’t let you go.”
You would like to end up with Joon if things don’t work out with this plan, but in the long run, you know that you’ll never be satisfied only having a piece of Namjoon. Yoongi and Jimin have already carved a place in your heart, so if you can’t have them, would it be worth staying with only one of them?
“I’ll think about that more if it happens.” You say as your words stray away a bit as there’s a lingering thought on your mind. “I forgot to ask this earlier, but do the guys know you’re going abroad?”
Namjoon shakes his head, “Nah. I hadn’t told them just in case plans didn’t work out. But I’ll wait a bit and see if I’ll go through with it. Deadline’s the first week of April.”
You sigh, pointing directly at his face with your expression stern, “I only ask that you follow your heart and not your dick!”
Namjoon chuckles again, his beautiful dimples appearing once again. God, you will miss seeing him for a couple of months if does end up going abroad in the Fall. Though, you won’t stop him if he wants to go. You love him, Yoongi and Jimin, but you aren’t the clingy girlfriend type that will chain them down from their dreams. They wouldn’t do that to you either.
“I will! I will!”
+++++++++++
March 8 [Friday]
"Your birthday’s tomorrow, Yoongs."
The warm sun blankets the university lawn as you and Yoongi work on your homework assignments. It's a relief to finally feel some warmth after weeks of chilly weather, so you wanted to spend the afternoon out. Yoongi doesn’t mind accompanying you. He also thinks it might be the best time to tell you his answer to your suggestion.
“I honestly forgot.” He rubs his face with his hands, “I’ve been finishing up my mixtape shit.”
“Oh shit? Is it finally coming together?”
He flips his laptop screen, revealing a list of song titles labeled 'Final Demo 1', 'Final Demo 2', and so on. It’s insane how much he has progressed in the making of his mixtape, and you can't wait to hear it when it’s done.
“Fuck yeah it is.” Yoongi says, a hint of pride in his voice. “Professor Kang said I’m doing so good on my own after he listened to three of the tracks, and that’s been motivating me. I got 1 more track to go”
You're genuinely excited for him. "See! I told you that you got this! You’re a musical genius, Min Yoongi!" you exclaim, giving him a playful slap on his right arm.
“That was all thanks to you though.”
He chuckles, grateful for the encouragement. "That was all thanks to you, though," he says, his gaze meeting yours with warmth. It's moments like these that remind you why you love Yoongi—his talent, his dedication, and his humility, all wrapped up in one.
"No, I didn't really do anything. I just gave you a gentle push of encouragement and let you free." you reply modestly, downplaying your role in his success. He is the talented one who was able to make music. The only music you know is playing the violin and the flute from middle school, though you don’t even think you remember at this point.
Yoongi shakes his head, a grin tugging at his lips. "You did more than that, but okay." he teases.
Your face reddens, becoming flustered that he would mention that right now. Min Yoongi is nothing but a demon at times. You choose to change the topic for now.
“Ignoring that for now! So are you going to do anything for your birthday?”
He rolls his eyes playfully at you for changing the topic, “Nope. I told the guys I wanted no party or dinner… or brunch. I just want to finish this damn mixtape.” Yoongi resumes his work on his laptop by fiddling with different things on his screen, half a headphone in.
“Yoongi..” You narrow your eyes at him.
Yoongi’s always been the type to not celebrate his birthday, so it’s no surprise he’d rather spend it working on something. But you still think he should celebrate his birthday. Compared to Namjoon and Jimin, Yoongi’s life and overall upbringing haven’t been that easy on him. You’re glad he’s still here despite it all. It’s probably why he’s also working so hard on this project knowing that it could put him and his family in a better financial situation. He feels that he has to succeed or else, and you know he will.
“But if you want to get me a strawberry cream cake from Paris Baguette in downtown, I’m not opposed to it…” His lips pucker mischievously towards the end of his drifting words.
You giggle and pat his head gently, “You already know I’ll do anything for you. Let me just ask Park to drive me to pick it up.”
It’s now Yoongi’s turn to feel flustered when you baby him a little with your small actions. He’ll never admit it, but he likes these types of things. Being gently cared for and appreciated.
“Which is one of the many reasons why I love you.” He glances over at you, taking a sip of his iced americano that was placed two feet away from him. He’s scared of accidentally knocking it over his computer.
You immediately cover your face, “H-Hey…A-Are you still sure about that?”
“If I wasn’t sure, I wouldn’t say it now.”
“Touche.” You respond, letting go of your face. “Then, what about having to share that love with me with two other people?” You ask curiously, thinking that bringing up the question felt right in the moment. But after a second, you felt maybe that wasn’t right. You’re not trying to force him to respond to your plan, but it may come off that way.
“Already eager for me to answer if I want to join your harem?” He teases you again, which internally gives you a sigh of relief that he wasn’t offended by your question at all.
“Maybe…” Your words drift off, before attaching an apology to that “Sorry, was that bad of me to bring up?”
“It’s fine. I wanted to talk about it anyway.” He takes his headphones off and closes his laptop.
With all his attention on you, oh this is about to get more serious.
Out of all the guys, you were initially worried Namjoon would be the hardest one to pull on board. But now you’re thinking that it’s Yoongi. Namjoon’s tough and overprotective exterior had melted down once he finally told you how he had been feeling all this time. You think that might’ve contributed to his eagerness to go along with your polycule plan. But Yoongi? You feel that he might think the polycule plan has too many faults that will lead to a fallen house of cards. He might also want you for himself. He’s a pisces after all.
But Yoongi is also unpredictable too.
Yoongi gently holds your hand, toying with it as he comes out with his response. “Your polycule plan isn’t foolproof, Angel. That’s one of my main concerns.” He sighs, looking up at the sky as a plane leaves a trail behind it. “And I’m surprised that Namjoon didn’t bring this up during your presentation.” He looks back at you.
Your demeanor seemingly deflates, which doesn’t go unnoticed by Yoongi, “Probably because he’s a bit blinded by rose-tinted glasses right now, but you’re right.” You pout.
“I usually think of the consequences later, but because this involves all of our feelings and the people around us…have you thought about what would happen with that?”
“I have…” You admit, though the words coming out of your mouth aren’t convincing. “But like I said, we could try this polycule thing first and then after some time, if we’re feeling good about it, we could break the news to people outside of this?”
Yoongi sighs, running a hand through his hair. “My Christian Korean mom is going to have a heart attack hearing about how her son is dating his female best friend and also his two male best friends.” He jokes, trying to lighten the mood.
“Okay! Then maybe we just tell them we have equally agreed to not date anyone ever and live together… like that article about the seven Chinese girlfriends buying a mansion to retire and die together!”
This time, Yoongi bursts out laughing, his gummy smile on full display. “The seven Chinese what? Really?”
You can’t help but laugh too, the tension easing a bit. “Seven Chinese girlfriends! I mean, it’s a valid plan, right? We could all just live in a big place and avoid ever mentioning that we’re together. People will just have to catch on and accept it, right?”
Yoongi mumbles to himself, shaking his head. “Maybe I just need to hold out on Geumjae marrying his girlfriend so my mom isn’t on my ass about marriage.”
“We will talk about marriage when and if we get there, Yoongs. First, we gotta decide on this polycule–”
“I’ll do it,” Yoongi interrupts, standing up from his spot and looking down at you with a determined expression.
“Huh?! Wait, really?” You blink up at him, genuinely surprised.
He nods, his expression serious yet gentle. “Yeah. I’ve thought about something similar before you even brought it up. And while I’m not sure if this plan will work out, I still want to try it.” He stretches out his hand to you. “I want to be with you, Joon, and Jimin. If it means we can all be happy together, then I’m willing to see where this goes.”
You feel a wave of relief and excitement wash over you. “Thank you Yoongi!” You grab his hand, but suddenly pull him towards you so he ends up falling on top of you. Yoongi is flustered from the action, but you continue speaking. “You don’t know how much I appreciate you.”
Yoongi’s weight pressing gently against you. The warmth of his body contrasts with the cool earth beneath, grounding you in the moment. You can feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat as he rests above you, both of you breathing in sync.
For a moment, everything else fades away. The vibrant blue sky stretches endlessly above, dotted with fluffy white clouds drifting lazily by. The sunlight filters through the leaves of a nearby tree, casting dappled shadows that dance across Yoongi's face. You gaze into his eyes, dark and deep, filled with a mixture of resolve and tenderness.
He lowers his head, brushing his lips lightly against yours in a kiss that is both gentle and intimate. Your heart races as you lose yourself in the sensation, his lips moving with a soft, deliberate rhythm. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. The world around you seems to blur, the sounds of distant chatter and birdsong becoming a distant hum.
When you finally pull back, breathless, you smile up at Yoongi. “You really mean it, right?”
He nods, his eyes never leaving yours. “I do. We’ll figure it out together, somehow. And who knows? Maybe this crazy idea will work out.”
You both lie there for a moment longer, wrapped up in each other and the serenity of the afternoon. The grass beneath you is soft, and the gentle breeze carries the scent of blooming flowers.
Yoongi shifts slightly, propping himself up beside you on one elbow, continuing to look at you. “So, what’s the plan for my birthday tomorrow? What surprise did you really have up your sleeve?”
You laugh, still feeling the lingering warmth of his kiss. “I thought you said you were going to be working on your mixtape!”
He raises an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Well, now maybe I’m in the mood to do something with you guys. Maybe we could also break the news to the rest of the guys while we’re at it,” he suggests, smirking playfully.
You watch him, trying to gauge his thoughts. Yoongi, after all, is always full of surprises. His mischievous nature makes you smile curiously at him, feeling a rush of excitement and giddiness.
“Breaking the news on your birthday? That sounds like such a Yoongi thing to do,” you tease, poking his side gently. “But hey, if that’s what you want, I’m down for it. We’ll make it a day to remember.”
Yoongi chuckles, the sound deep and comforting. “Yeah, let’s make it unforgettable. Just like you, always turning my plans upside down.”
You both laugh, the joy and anticipation bubbling up between you. The campus around you feels alive with possibility, open book waiting to be written by you. As you lie there together, the sunlight casting a golden hue over everything, you feel a renewed sense of hope for you guys. — — —
tbc !!!!! :D
a/n: we've reached the resolution arc! there is only 2 more chapters left (technically one... the last one is an epilogue detailing what's going to happen after a few months). i apologize for this update taking a little more than a month. I had finished this a few weeks ago, but my editor has been busy with her new work, so waiting for edits took a bit of time. i am already working on chapter 11... which will be filled with a lot .... and i mean... a lot of smut... i cannot make any promises it will be good... but a 4some will be hard. send me lot of luck, dear readers. i will try to get CH 11 out mid june, but unsure as of yet. im still on my job searching arc, which has been rough, but this fic has been a great way to escape and share this world with you guys. thank you all for reading!
➸ let me know what you think OR join the taglist! ➸ love u lately series masterlist
#bts#love u lately#bts smut#yoonminjoon#bts fic#namjoon x reader#yoongi x reader#jimin x reader#lul#lul masterlist#kpop fanfic#bts x reader#lul10#kim namjoon#min yoongi#park jimin#poly fic#smut
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Also, "you know I love you, right" with dreamling from the gentle prompts
Hi anon I am SO SORRY this is like almost six months late, but I finally wrote something for this prompt!!! 😁💖
AO3 Link Here or read the whole fic below!
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Dream is nervous.
He knows, logically, that he should not be. That he is, as always, catastrophizing things in his mind, thinking of the worst possible scenario for how things will go. But he also knows that what he plans to ask Hob tonight over dinner is not an insignificant question. And he has to get everything just right.
Dream has gotten things wrong so many times in his relationships. With his parents, with his siblings, his friends, his past lovers. He has asked for too much too soon, and given too little until it was too late to fix what had been wronged.
Dream wants to do things right with Hob.
Hob, who has been so patient with Dream as he picked himself up after his divorce from Calliope. Hob, who had only been a casual acquaintance at first, a friend of a friend of a friend. Hob, who had somehow, miraculously, fallen just as deeply in love with Dream over the last two years as Dream had done so with him.
And now, Dream wants them to take the next step in their relationship.
He sets the stage perfectly; buying a bottle of wine from the vineyard where they had their first date to pair with the dinner Hob is preparing in Dream’s kitchen. Candles on the table for ambiance. Dream is also wearing a sleek satin button down that he knows that Hob likes on him.
“Is it my birthday?” Hob asks, waggling his eyebrows when Dream lets him into his flat. When Dream closes the door behind him, he finds himself pulled into the passionate kiss. Hob presses him against the closed door and licks eagerly into Dream’s mouth, drawing a guttural groan from deep inside him.
“You’re tempting enough for me to want dessert first,” Hob teases, nipping at Dream’s bottom lip before pulling away slightly to appreciate Dream’s outfit more. Dream laughs, and pulls Hob back to himself in a tight hug.
“Perhaps I just wanted to look nice tonight,” Dream whispers against his lover’s ear. “But good things come to those who wait.” Hob huffs, then kisses him again, gentler this time, and Dream melts into it.
They eventually make their way into Dream’s kitchen, and Hob notices the bottle of wine and candles on the table immediately.
“Please tell me I haven’t forgotten a special occasion,” he says, his tone teasing, but Dream can tell he’s nervous. Dream shakes his head and nudges Hob towards the stove and countertops, kissing him again and squeezing his arm.
“No special occasion forgotten, I promise,” Dream reassures Hob. “I am only doing this just because. To be romantic.”
“If you say so,” Hob replies, still uncertain. He lets the matter drop, and goes on to prepare dinner while Dream opens the wine and finishes preparing the table. His hands are shaking with every movement, but thankfully Hob is too preoccupied with cooking to really notice. They trae stories about their days, Hob on the latest drama in the faculty department of his university, and Dream complaining about the minutiae of having to plan his gallery opening next month.Dinner itself flies by and before Dream knows it, they’ve opened the bottle of wine and moved to the living room to cuddle.
Hob tries to suggest putting on a movie, but Dream shakes his head, taking a deep breath and putting his wine down on the coffee table.
“You know I love you, right?” Dream asks, wringing his hands together despite himself. Hob hums, and then takes Dream’s hands gently in his. He brings one of Dream’s hands to his lips and kisses it, slow and tender. Dream melts like butter into his touch.
“I do, and I love you too,” Hob answers, his smile warm and inviting. “What’s this all really about, love?”
Dream stares into Hob’s dark brown eyes, and swallows thickly. Now or never he supposes. At least now he’ll know whether they really were of the same mind about the future.
“I—Iwantustomoveintogether,” Dream blurts out all in a single breath. There. Now it was all out in the open.
Hob furrows his brow in confusion at first, seeming to not have understood what Dream had just said. But then his eyes widen in shock, and Dream feels his stomach swoop. He can’t tell whether Hob looks happy, or upset, and it absolutely terrifies Dream.
But then Hob’s eyes soften, and Dream feels hope burn bright like a star within his chest.
“You mean it?” Hob asks, his voice sounding just as fragile as Dream feels. “You—you want—”
“Yes,” Dream exhales, before Hob practically knocks him into the other side of the couch with how forcefully he kisses him. Dream wraps his entire body around Hob’s, unwilling to let go of him for even just a moment. Hob technically hadn’t answered the question just yet, but Dream can infer by the way the other man is kissing him that the answer is a very resolute yes.
“You know, you didn’t need to get all dressed up just to ask me that,” Hob tells him when they break apart to breathe. “I would’ve said yes even if you’d asked me in the middle of Tesco.”
Dream barks out a laugh and then pulls Hob into another kiss.
“I would hope by now, you know that anything else less than the most romantic gesture is unacceptable by my standards,” he replies with mock indignation. Hob doesn’t reply, only kisses him again, and everything is perfect.
They soon fall into excited discussions about the future, talking late into the night about whether they will stay in one flat or the other, the best time to move, how much in monthly payments they can afford between the two of them. Dream is not particularly married to his flat, and he knows that the location is not the most convenient to Hob’s university. Hob’s flat is small, however, and Dream knows he needs a larger space in order to be able to paint. They eventually decide on vacating their separate flats and looking for a place together.
Dream’s stomach is in knots, the good kind though, when they go to bed. He’s never gotten to truly choose his own living space with another person. When he and Calliope had been married, they’d moved into her childhood home, and it had never quite felt like home, even after Orpheus had been born. Even his current flat, the style, the decor, all of it is handpicked by his mother, Nyx.
But this new flat? This hypothetical for now space? This will be just for him and Hob. It will be just theirs.
Six months later, Hob carries Dream over the threshold of their new townhome like they’ve just gotten married, and Dream laughs in delight. He cannot remember the last time he’d been so happy.
When Hob lets him down in their new, still empty living room, Dream takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, letting the emotional weight of what they’ve done wash over him.
This home is theirs. Both their names are on the mortgage, a contract that binds them closer than marriage does, at least in Hob’s opinion. This home hadn’t been in their initial plan, they had only seen it in passing while looking at another flat in the same neighborhood, but it had been love at first sight for both of them.
It had also, admittedly, been a little bit outside of their budget. But Hob was expecting a promotion, and Dream’s gallery opening had plenty of buzz surrounding it. Things would work themselves out. He knew they would.
They’re arguing again, and Dream doesn’t even remember what started it. They were fighting more and more lately; about chores, about things that needed to be fixed, about the ever growing pile of bills between them.
Hob had gotten the promotion he’d wanted, but it came with more work and time away than either of them expected. Dream’s gallery opening was well attended, but only a few of his paintings had been purchased outright. The gallery assured him this was normal, and he knew it to be true, as a debut artist he needed to build a reputation. But the disappointment stung nonetheless.
The house too, had been more work and more expense than they had expected. It seemed like something was always breaking, or needed to be replaced, and they could never agree on a chore schedule that did not make the other feel like they were doing more of the work.
Now they were arguing over what to have for dinner, a simple meal, an activity they used to both consider sacred between them. But Hob doesn’t want to cook, and Dream is tired of eating takeaway. Hob tells him Dream needs to learn to cook. Dream tells him that Hob is too picky to cook for.
“You know what? Forget it,” Hob says, throwing up his arms in surrender and turning away from him. “This isn’t worth it.”
Dream’s heart shatters when he hears those words.
Not worth it, not worth it, not worth it. Dream has heard those words a million times in a million different contexts, but it always, always, means the same thing.
Dream wasn’t worth it. Wasn’t worth the effort it took to put up with him, to be patient with him, to love him. Calliope had said he wasn’t worth all the fights and arguments. Cory had said their relationship wasn’t worth staying in London for when his dream job was in the US. Nada had said having to deal with his family wasn’t worth it. And now Hob had decided Dream wasn’t worth his time or his love either.
Before he knows it, Dream is running out of the room, out of their home, and into the pouring rain. He can’t hear anything over the pounding of his heart in his ears.
Not worth it. Not. Worth. It
He’s worthless, worthless, worthless.
Dream hadn’t even bothered putting on shoes, so it doesn’t surprise him when he slips on the wet cobblestones of the street and he falls.
What does surprise him is that he doesn’t hit the ground.
Because Hob is there. Holding him back, and gripping him like he’s afraid Dream will disappear if he doesn’t.
Hob had come after him. Had run after Dream in the pouring rain just to catch him.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Hob is crying into his shoulder as he pulls Dream to his chest. “I forgot that’s what you hate hearing the most, I didn’t mean it. Not like that. Never like that.”
Dream chokes out a sob of his own, then wriggles himself out of Hob’s grip so he can turn around and hug his lover back.
“I’m sorry too,” he says, pulling Hob into a desperate kiss. “I love you.”
“I love you too. I swear it Dream, I’ll never leave you alone,” Hob promises. “You’re absolutely worth fighting for, always.”
Dream doesn’t know what the future holds for them. But he knows, now, in this moment, soaked to his skin and freezing cold, that he and Hob can get through anything. Because they love each other. Because Hob will fight for Dream as much as Dream will fight for Hob. Because they’re not perfect people, but they are perfect for each other. And that is worth everything.
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⋆ ˚。⋆౨ৎ Good Luck, Babe! - [Part 1]
♥ next | ao3 link | masterlist
♥ pairing: oscar piastri/carlos sainz jr
♥ ballet au - enemies to lovers
♥ PLEASE READ THIS AUTHORS NOTE (none of the pictures are mine)
♥ warnings: this fic has swearing and uses some ballet terminology
♥ taglist; @liamlawsonlesbian
♥ a/n: I’m finishing the folklore series I SWEAR I just really wanted to start this as well lol
No one has ever gotten under Oscar’s skin the way that Carlos does. Since the beginning of time there’s been competitiveness in ballet, but as two of the very few men at their company, their rivalry became a little more personal.
Carlos took his spot at the barre, a few people lunging out of his way. He practiced a few relevé’s to get his feet moving until he heard a group of girls whispering.
“He talks so much shit about Carlos…” one of them said as he reached down and fixed the elastic on his ballet flats.
“I guess Oscar really does hate him.” another mumbled with a shrug.
“You can tell him it’s mutual.” Carlos pipes up, staring at them directly.
The group quiets down, turning away from the man and pretending to stretch.
“Who are we waiting on?” Toto, their instructor said, strutting into the room.
A few people mumbled Oscar’s name in response. Everyone knew it was a dangerous game pissing off Toto. He never forgave tardiness.
Oscar showed up a few minutes late, sneaking through the crack in the door with his head ducked. Toto had his back turned to the class, adjusting the speaker.
“Piastri,” he said, turning around. Oscar dropped his bag and lightly placed his hand on the barre beside him.
“You’re late.” Toto crossed his arms.
“I suppose I am,” Oscar smiled and a few girls around him giggled.
“Get out of my class.” Toto nodded towards the door.
“Sorry?” he questioned.
“You heard me. Out. Late students do not dance.”
“You’re joking,” Oscar grabbed the barre tightly. “I’m the leading man, you can’t practice this dance without me.”
“Carlos will take your place today,” Toto stated. Carlos met Oscar’s eyes, smirking at him deviously. This did nothing but inflate Carlos’ ego.
“This is a fucking joke,” Oscar mumbled, grabbing his bag.
“Watch your mouth before I replace you completely.”
“Let that be a lesson to all of you.” Toto sighed, watching Oscar leave the class. “We’re going to start with some simple grande plié’s, tendu’s, and penché's. Then the girls will put on their pointe shoes, we'll do a few across the floor combos, and then work on the pas de deux. Carlos, thank you for filling in today.”
Carlos nodded in response.
“Looks like Oscar fucked around and found out.” A girl in the class whispered, eliciting a few laughs.
-
Oscar was first in class the next day, stealing Carlos’ sacred barre spot. It was ballet etiquette to let the older and more experienced dancers take their position first. A couple of people eyed him while he warmed up. Carlos arrived just a few minutes before class started as always and immediately noticed the man in his place. He took the spot behind Oscar and whispered:
“You’re petty.”
“You took something of mine, now I take something of yours.” he referred to the incident yesterday.
“Still mad that you showed up late? That was your own fault.”
Oscar rolled his eyes.
Toto entered the room, a group of women following behind him. The last person through the door was Susie Wolff, prima ballerina. The girls sat on the floor with their pointé shoes, hitting them on the floor to bang the noise out of them. No one wanted to have them clomping around the stage during their graceful variations.
“Abbi and Oscar, you’re up.” Susie said, gesturing for them to come to the center of the room. Oscar snuck a few glances at Carlos as the other dancers watched from the sidelines. Everyone stood with a complete poker-face, watching intensely for a misstep that never came. At the end of their performance all the students clapped and stared blankly.
"Abbi that was truly amazing." Susie praised her. "Try to get your leg a little bit higher during your développé's and I think it will be perfect."
Oscar was too busy watching Carlos to hear Toto’s critiques. “Piastri, are you with us?”
“Huh?” he snapped out of his stare. “Yea, yes I am, sorry.”
Toto sighed, “Alright, you two go stretch while Amna practices her solo.” As they made room for her, Oscar could hear his phone buzzing in his back. This caught the attention of both him and Carlos. He snuck over to it pretending to get water, hoping his instructors were too preoccupied watching Amna to notice. He checked the notification on his phone reading:
Lando
party tonight @ Charles’ be there at 10
Oscar
sounds good i'll be there
“Too bored to be paying attention to your fellow dancers?” Carlos asked.
Oscar flinched, not expecting a voice to come from behind him. He quickly shut off his phone and hid it in a pocket.
“I just had to check something,” Oscar muttered.
“Well, try to stay off your phone before you get in trouble again.”
Another hour passed and class ended.
Oscar
Is there anyone at your company you just despise?
Lando
no…?
Oscar
no one, really?
Lando
should I? lol my company is contemp, jazz, and hip hop so the vibes are pretty good over here 🤷♂️
-
Oscar pushed himself through the crowded party, spotting Lando and Charles laughing and drinking.
“You have got to be kidding me,” he muttered, noticing another person with them. It was Carlos.
#𝒍𝒊𝒗'𝒔 𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝒇𝒊𝒄𝒔 ౨ৎ#carcar#Carlos Sainz Jr/Oscar Piastri#Oscar Piastri/Carlos Sainz Jr#oscar piastri#op81#oscar pastry#carlos sainz#carlos sainz jr#carlos sainz junior#cs55#f1#formula 1#formula one#carcar fic#carcar fanfic#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#formula 1 fic#formula 1 fanfic#f1 rpf fic#formula 1 rpf#f1 fanfiction#formula one fic#formula one fanfic#fanfiction#fanfic#fic#cross posted on ao3#good luck babe
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Upon request, today we have a rec list of bottom Louis fics where Louis and Harry get married and have a wedding in the fic. If you enjoy our rec lists, please be sure to like and reblog this post to help spread the word. Happy reading!
1) The Nuptial Blessing | Explicit | 3,576 words
The sweet smell of strawberries and cinnamon engulfed the entire room. He held his breath as Louis walked down the aisle to the altar. His omega looked like a walking angel- an ethereal beauty not belonging to this world, yet he was for Harry to ravage tonight.
2) I Fell For You Like A Star Falls From The Skies | Not Rated | 6,433 words
Note: This fic is the fifth part in a series but can be read alone.
Love isn't instant. you don't lock eyes and know that you want to be with someone forever, life just doesn't work that way. But the love that Louis and Harry have for each other comes pretty damn close. Wedding bells are ringing for your favorite couple, and dammit are they ready to be Mr. and Mr. Styles.
3) Please, Don’t Say You Want Me | Teen & Up | 9,320 words
Prompt 496: ABO/royalty AU. Where Omega Prince Louis is forced to marry alpha King Harry by his father for the benefit of their kingdom. After the wedding, Harry lets Louis know that he didn’t want a mate and to not expect a relationship from him. Since they are already mated, Harry has to officially reject Louis’s omega to break ties. This practice is so taboo that he doesn’t know the omega has a maximum of a year left to live after rejection. As time goes on, the omega gets weaker and weaker.
4) Won't See It Coming Til It's Already Gone | Explicit | 12,631 words
“Tell me that this is a fake,” Peter says, slapping a handful of papers against Louis’ chest. He says something else, something loud and demanding, barely even pausing for a breath, but Louis doesn’t hear it. All he hears is the sound of his own breathing, the sound of his own heartbeat. Because this - this looks like a marriage certificate. For a minute, everything stills, quiets. Louis drags his eyes up, meets Harry’s gaze, fixed on him. Then the noise is back, shouting voices clamoring to be heard over each other, and Harry is still staring at him. The ring that Louis hadn’t been able to stop noticing in the loo weighs heavily on his hand. His left hand.
5) Falling Down For You | Explicit | 14,750 words
If there was an alpha that Louis wanted to call his, it would be Harry. But what happens when an arranged marriage, a hungry press, and doubts get in the way?
6) Dreams Can't Take The Place Of Loving You | Explicit | 15,496 words
Note: This fic is locked and can only be read by AO3 users.
In which Liam is the go-to ring guy, Niall's relentless, Zayn is family, and Harry and Louis are disgusting.
7) Life Won't Wait | Explicit | 20,327 words
Note: This fic is the third part in a series, so we'd read the other two fics first.
It’s not until the third attempt goes terribly, horribly wrong that Harry realizes Louis is doing it on purpose. All he can do is sit back in his chair, narrow his eyes, and watch as Louis pats the waiter on the back pseudo-helpfully, pretending like he’s actually doing something that makes up for the fact that he just deliberately tripped a waiter at one of the poshest restaurants in London and caused pasta to be spilled all over the place better. Like a pat on the back could make all of that better. Ten minutes later, they exit the restaurant with absolutely no grace. Harry lets Louis tug him along, shielding him from the worst of the paps, but he doesn’t let up on the glare he’s got going on, directed at Louis’ back. The gossip rags will all be screaming with headlines about how they’ve finally broken up for good, but it doesn’t matter right now.
8) Thawing Permafrost | Explicit | 22,556 words
Louis is from the frozen mountains of Glacien. Harry is from the searing desert of Calidius. They come from opposite worlds, but all it takes is an arranged marriage to bring them together as one.
9) Swept Me Off My Feet (Took My Heart And Took Me Down) | Explicit | 25,447 words
When Louis had decided to reopen his mother's bakery, he never thought a charming alpha would walk in through the door, let alone fall in love with him over tea, dessert and music.
10) You Are My Familiar | Explicit | 27,088 words
Louis loses his dog, and Harry takes in a stray. A whole year passes before they realize that it’s the same dog, and that kind of complicates things.
11) Ours Are The Moments I Play In The Dark | Mature | 30,830 words
Jane Austen’s Persuasion AU. Nine years ago Louis Tomlinson was persuaded to break off his engagement to Harry Styles, a poor sailor. Since then Louis has come to regret being so easily convinced to give up his one chance of happiness. Now Louis’ family is in debt and his childhood home is being sold. In a complete reversal of fortune, Harry has returned to England a wealthy bachelor looking to settle down. Events conspire to bring them together once more though Louis is- must surely be- the last man on earth that Captain Styles would think of now.
12) The List | Mature | 32,094 words
'In the weeks that follow, Harry opens his old journal more than he has in the past two years each time he remembers Venice or thinks about Louis. He always flips to the same random page in the middle of the book, marked by the picture of himself that Louis sent him a few days after they got home. There’s a message on the back that says, ‘Spontaneous looks good on you! See you soon,’ and it makes Harry’s chest warm each time he reads it. He wedges their list out from between the worn pages, and it feels silly staring down at a folded up piece of paper with a strange sense of nostalgia for experiences they’ve yet to have; for places they’ve never even been.'
13) If I Loved You Less | Explicit | 36,139 words
Beautiful omega Louis Tomlinson is set to make his come out in London society and determined to find a mate in his first Season. With the help and protection of his oldest friend, Lord Niall Mendes, he takes Society by storm. Being a wealthy and titled alpha means Lord Harry Styles has grown used to avoiding unmated omegas…until now. This Season he finds himself at every Society event just for a chance to speak with the omega with the flashing blue eyes. Louis has the aristocracy at his feet and all the suitors he could hope for, but his secrets may ruin his chance at a love match.
14) Show Me Life Like I've Never Seen | Mature | 42,948 words
Louis never expected to leave the small art studio three blocks down from his job with anything besides the painting he caught a glimpse of and simply couldn't forget.
15) What A Wicked Thing To Do (To Make Me Dream Of You) | Explicit | 44,444 words
Heirs Louis and Harry have been promised as mates to each other their whole lives. It’s expected that they will be the perfect pair to bring honor to their families. Louis cannot let that happen.
16) Tastes Like Summer, Smiles Like May | Explicit | 47,519 words
A cold prince, an alpha with nothing left to lose and a kingdom with a secret.
17) Lunar Waltz | Explicit | 56,795 words
Louis has to replace his (missing) twin brother and marry one of the most dangerous alphas of the kingdom.
18) Every Story Has Its Scars, Ours Is a Brand New Start | Mature | 62,865 words
Life as a devoted husband and an amazing father turned out to be a little different than Louis had expected. Everyone tells him it doesn't have to be that way; that he's worth more and that he's so much stronger than any one person trying to keep him down. It's all just words though until he meets the one person who makes him truly believe it.
19) I’ve Got You | Explicit | 62,988 words
As a reward for saving the king’s life, Harry is offered omega Prince Louis’ hand in marriage. Neither of them has any interest in the union going forward, and so they concoct a plan to prove to the king that they are far from a perfect match.
20) Mead Of Poetry | Explicit | 65,053 words
Under the pressure of continuing the Styles viscountcy line now that he is getting older, Harry sets himself three rules to finally settle down and marry: firstly, the omega needs to be reasonably attractive, secondly, they must be of great mind, thirdly, they cannot be anyone he would ever fall in love with. Enters Charlotte Tomlinson, the diamond of the first water of the upcoming season and seemingly the perfect candidate to the viscount’s plan, but her omega brother, Louis, is in Harry’s way. Louis only seeks to protect his sister and he sure is not going to let a rake play with her heart.
21) Now I'm Begging for Footnotes in the Story of Your Life | Explicit | 80,742 words
Harry and Louis are engaged, but a few months before the wedding Louis realises that they don't like each other, so instead of ending the engagement two of them go head-to-head in an all out prank war. In the battle of who will end the engagement first.
22) Billow And Breeze (Islands And Seas) | Explicit | 102,506 words
It was bright; that was the first thing Louis could recall. With a groan, he winced at the throbbing behind the sockets of his eyes and rubbed his temples in an effort to soothe the pain. Maybe he really did hit his head when he took his tumble. The omega squinted as he looked at the surrounding rolling hills and fog hanging over the countryside. As strange as it was, the world felt different, though it looked practically the same. Disoriented and confused, Louis padded through the moss and listened for his husband. “Liam?” he croaked shakily. Nothing but a symphony of woodland creatures met his ears. His footsteps were muted by mossy green grass beneath his feet and soil fragrant as he neared the crest of the hill. At the top, he froze, lips parted in horror and eyes widening at the expanse of empty farmland—not a soul in sight. It had only been less than ten minutes prior that he could see Inverness from the crest, but now there was nothing. “Impossible,” he whispered to himself, shaking his head in disbelief—his mind not quite able to make sense of it.
Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.
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In case you missed it...
I'm currently posting a fic a day over on Ao3 for my Tropetober A-Z event on Patreon last year. It's a different character every day from different fandoms, mostly smutty (you know me). All red underlined links lead to AO3, please read the warnings on individual stories 😘
The fics:
A: Alpha/Beta/Omega - Winter Nights
(Geralt Of Rivia x fem!reader) You’re an Omega who lives at Kaer Morhen, unmated but belonging, almost like a pack Omega to the Alpha Witchers; Geralt, Coen, Lambert and Vesemir, though the elder Witcher is long past any need for you. Geralt is close to rut when he returns, and seeks you out.
B: Bodyswap - Worth The Wait
(John Winchester x fem!reader) Some supernatural beings don’t want to hurt anyone, they just want to prove a point.
C: Character Death - The One Good Thing
(Negan x fem!reader) You waited so long to have him back, and he’s waited so long to get back to you, now you can be happy again… right?
D: Dark fic - On Our Terms
(Geralt Of Rivia x fem!reader) A sorcerer out for revenge leaves you in a dangerous position, and you’re not sure you’re going to make it out of this one.
E: Enemies To Lovers - Trapped
(Bucky Barnes x fem!reader) An incident on a mission leaves you and Bucky trapped in a vault. Being sealed in a relatively small space is a problem on its own, but you’re faced with another dilemma; you absolutely hate Bucky Barnes.
F: Fake Dating - Keeping Up Appearances
(John Winchester x fem!reader) You haven’t heard from John in three months, after he abandoned you, but now he needs your help on a case. Are you willing to ignore your feelings to help him?
G: Glad To Be Alive - All Is Not Lost
(Negan x fem!reader) A sequel to "The One Good Thing" which was letter C of Tropetober.
H: High School Sweethearts - Bittersweet
(Steve Rogers x fem!reader) In any time or place, she'd love him.
I: I Don't Want To Ruin Our Friendship - Mistakes
(Bucky Barnes x fem!reader) She took a chance and it broke her heart - can Bucky fix the mistake he made?
J: Just Friends - Nightcap
(John Winchester x fem!reader) She’s sick of correcting everyone, and alcohol loosens the tongue.
K: Kiss Of Life - Near Miss
(Geralt Of Rivia x fem!reader) Geralt saves your life, then reminds you to never nearly die again.
L: Love Potion - A Wee Favor
(Dean Winchester x fem!reader x Sam Winchester) Dreams can come true.
M: Mates - Crossed Paths
(Alpha!Geralt Of Rivia x Omega!fem!reader) Destiny put them in each other's way for a reason.
N: New Old Flame - Always Yes
(John Winchester x fem!reader) They came so close to something special, only to have it torn away; is there any hope left for them now?
O: One True Love - Backseat Lover
(Dean Winchester x fem!reader) He's been keeping a secret from her, and when they're stranded alone for hours, he finally has to come clean.
P: Please Don't Leave Me - Vigil
(Bucky Barnes x fem!reader) He's halfway through a mission when something he can't fight happens.
Q: Queen Size Bed - Never Have I Ever
(John Winchester x fem!reader x Dean Winchester) Drinking can lead to all sorts of decisions, luckily, these are good ones.
R: Roommates - Sleepless
(Bucky Barnes x fem!reader) Turns out, the solution to the problem was there all along.
S: Soulmates - Runaway
(Geralt Of Rivia x fem!reader) You run away from the life your parents want for you, and finally find your soulmate in the most unlikely of places.
T: Time Travel - Time Breaks All Things
(John Winchester x fem!reader) - A misstep on a case puts them somewhere they didn't expect to be, and they're not sure if there's a way home again.
U: Unresolved Sexual Tension - Seize The Sam
(Sam Winchester x fem!reader) Dean "Matchmaker" Winchester strikes again.
V: Virgin - Life Lessons
(Geralt Of Rivia x fem!reader) The night that Geralt learned his most valuable life lessons…
W: Werewolf - The Wolf Moon
(Henry Cavill x fem!reader) A night of camping leads her right into the arms of fate.
X: Xenafication - Rough
(Geralt Of Rivia x fem!reader) Something changes you, and Geralt isn't sure it's a good thing.
Y: You Can't Fight Fate - Ships In The Night
(Dean Winchester x fem!reader) She keeps running to avoid heartbreak but she's breaking all the same.
Z: Zombies - Full
(Negan Smith x fem!reader) She knows she shouldn't, but the problem is, she wants to, real bad.
If you do check any of the fics out, please let me know what you think 😊
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Eat Dessert First
Pairing: Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels x F!Reader
Rating: NSFW 18+ (minors dni)
Warnings: cute banter, fluffy goodness, domestic bliss, oral (female receiving), cute nicknames and the cutest ending ever
Word Cont: 1.4k
Author’s Notes: Well long time no fic huh? Life really gets in the way sometimes. I decided when the writers block decided to stick around that I would go through some old fics I never posted and see if there was anything I could change my mind on. I picked five fics that I am nervous but excited to share! Thank you if you take time to read and even more so if you leave any kind of note. I am using my old taglist so please if you want to be removed or added please let me know!! Also for my ao3 readers I swear one day I’ll get it updated.
Ao3 link coming soonish
Your knuckles wrapped on the wooden surface of the front door as you entered the all too familiar ranch house. You were immediately met with the most amazing smell that had your stomach growling.
“I sure hope that’s my honeybee!” The southern drawl of the man you loved echoed from the kitchen and you smiled at the sound.
“Who else is going to just waltz in here barely announced?” You spoke with a smirk as you rounded the corner.
The sight before you would never get old. Your boyfriend of four years cooking away in his kitchen, making dinner for the two of you. It was an almost daily occurrence but it still made the butterflies in your stomach rapid. Jack Daniels and yourself had stumbled into each other's lives and even though a relationship was far from both of your minds things just fell into place. Jack paused what he was doing to turn to you. He pulled you into him and quickly locked his lips to yours in a deep, toe curling kiss.
“You keep kissing me like that cowboy, we are going to forget dinner and head straight for dessert,” you smirked as he pulled away.
“Now darlin’ I’ve been slaving away in this kitchen but you do know my favorite saying right?” He gazed down at you with a twinkle in his eyes.
“Life is short. Eat dessert first,” you let out a giggle as he pulled away and went back to his cooking.
You knew then you had to tempt him just a little bit more so you found a clear spot on the counter and jumped, sliding yourself comfortably on the cool service. Jack gazed at you and you gave him a wide innocent smile. He let out a chuckle and shook his head.
“What?” You asked, teasing him, swinging your legs gently.
“You drive me crazy. After all these years, you still just drive me crazy.”
“I am simply sitting on your counter minding my business. I have no idea what you are talking about.” You couldn’t keep the smile off your face if you tried.
Jack sat down the spoon he was using to move around whatever sauce he was working on and stalked over to you. You now were slightly taller than him but not by much but even with slightly looking down at him you felt as if he was gazing down at you.
“You know exactly what you are doing darlin’ and soon what I’m fixing will go in the oven for a bit and I am going to devour you.” Jack smirked knowing his words were going to leave you wanting.
He had definitely raised you. Your teasing manner fell and you found yourself panting, realizing how hot it was in the kitchen. You glared at him when he gazed over at you with a winning smirk.
“Don’t give me that look. If you can’t take the heat, get out of the kitchen darlin’…literally.” He winked and you stuck your tongue out at him but followed up with a laugh which he joined in on.
The two of you fell into normal conversation asking each other about your days and anything else you had yet to discuss through the text messages exchanged throughout the day. These were the moments you always loved, the domestic ones. Simple and small but always left a lasting impression. You watched him as he moved around the kitchen before finally placing the almost finished meal into the oven and then threw the oven mitts on the counter. He all but stalked toward you and you welcomed him with opening your legs for him to stand between and laced your arms around his neck. Your fingers went into his hair as his lips fell to yours in a needy kiss. You sighed at the feeling of having him so close. So ready for him to touch you where you needed him most.
You had worn a pair of leggings which Jack maneuvered you carefully out of discarding them on the kitchen floor. He pulled away to look at you, his forehead resting on yours.
“No underwear huh? Did you plan this angel?”
“Maybe, maybe not,” you smirked and pulled his lips back to yours.
He smirked against your lips before finally moving down on you. His lips brushed down your neck and soon he was on his knees, his arms wrapping around your legs and spreading you open for him. You let out a whimper at the cool air hitting your wet center.
“Jack please,” you begged looking down at him with one hand white knuckling the counter edge and the other tangled in his brown locks.
“I’ve got you angel. Look at you so wet,” he breathed before his lips fell to you and you let out a loud moan.
Your head fell back to the counters behind you and your eyes fluttered closed in pure pleasure. This was something else that could never get old. The way Jack made you feel was not of this earth, hell the universe. He still made your head spin and he knew your body better than you did. Two fingers entered you and your mouth fell open in a gasp followed by a moan before you forced your eyes open to take in the sight before you. Jack’s head between your thighs pushing you closer and closer to your impending high.
“Jack I-,” you whimpered.
Jack simply answered with a moan against the vibrations coursing through you and the wave took you under. Your head went back, you back arched and you let out a loud moan that made you thankful Jack had no neighbors. He kept pushing you through your orgasm as your legs shook around him until you collapsed panting. His mouth fell away and his fingers left you causing you to feel empty. Your eyes fluttered open to be met with brown eyes gazing at you.
“Always so perfect and delicious,” Jack murmured as he kissed you.
You moaned against him, tasting yourself in his mouth. You reached down for Jack’s pants but his hand stopped you. You pulled away looking at him with a confused expression.
“It’s your turn,” you pouted softly.
“Later darlin’. We got all night,” he smirked as he gave you one more peek just as the timer went off. “Perfect timing dinner is ready. I gotta clean my girl up first.”
Jack made quick work cleaning the both of you up before helping you from the counter onto shaky knees. He didn’t let you go until you were stable and you couldn’t help but let out a laugh as you slipped your leggings back on as he pulled dinner from the oven.
“We are worse than a bunch of teenagers huh?” Jack laughed with you.
“Kind of but I love it.”
“As do I,” he leaned, giving you one last kiss before fixing each of you a plate.
You sat at his dining room table and dug in a comfortable silence falling between the two of you as you ate. You were glancing around Jack’s house as you always found yourself doing when you looked back at him. He had stopped eating and was watching you. You smiled softly.
“What is it?” You asked.
“Move in with me.”
It wasn’t a question, just a simple statement and it took you by surprise. It shouldn’t have, you had waited for it for a while now but all the same it made your stomach flip in the best way.
“Are you sure?” You spoke trying to keep your wide smile at bay.
“I’ve never been more sure about anything honeybee. It’s about time. I like the way you look here. It feels right when you are here. It doesn’t feel so big and lonely anymore and I don’t ever want it to again.”
You felt tears spring into your eyes but a smile split your face wide.
“I would love to move in. I’ve never felt more at home than I do with you.”
Jack’s smile matched yours and the two of you carefully leaned over the table and kissed each other. You finished your meals with bright smiles. The two of you laughed as you washed up the kitchen and made plans as you headed to bed to get you moved in. As you laid in bed Jack hovering over you already panting and wanting he smiled down at you before kissing you.
“Welcome home honeybee.”
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Eating Crow Chapter 1: The Little Flame of Treviso
“No scars. A talented assassin.” He observed, fixing the cuffs of his shirt. She pulled down the collar of her jacket, revealing gashes along the side of her throat. He let his eyes linger curiously. “My second most valuable asset is my face. I protect it.” "What other scars does she have? What other scars could we give her?” “Hmm.” He ignored Spite’s lust for violence - or maybe it was just plain lust. “What’s your first?” “My aim.”
Pairing: Lucanis x Fem Rook/OFC x sometimes Spite??
Summary: Born to renowned assassins and raised in the heart of Treviso, Fiamma De Riva hasn’t known home in a very long time. Orphaned, she was taken under the wing of her cousin, Viago, and quickly ascended through the ranks of the Antivan Crows.
After being sidelined for a well-meaning mistake, she abandoned the life she once knew to pursue the Dread Wolf alongside Varric, the only person left who still believed in her.
Now living under the alias “Rook,” Fiamma is rallying forces against elven gods. But when she must return to those she once called family for aid, she’s tasked with rescuing the Demon of Vyrantium, Lucanis Dellamorte, who might force her to reckon with the legacy she’s abandoned… and bring her dangerously close to the edge
Word Count: 3.2k
A/N: Welcome to my Lucanis fic! Mind the tags, grab a cup of coffee, and get cozy. If you're new to my fics, I LOVE lore. I usually get wrapped in dnd lore, but have been a Dragon Age fan for 13 years or something like that (that's terrifying to read back to myself) and you know...lore comes with the territory. I might get a few things wrong, feel free to (kindly) let me know. This is an 18+ fic, MDNI!
Things of note: Rook is Fem, human, mage, Antivan Crow. I like writing storylines and tension, but there will be smut! I don't know how the tags/warnings will evolve, but it's reasonable to expect some messy Spite consent stuff? Please read on AO3 if you need to track warnings, they will be inevitably detailed better there (or just want to be real sweet and give me hits/kudos/comments).
There will be spoilers! I am starting this right at the Sea of Blood quest where you get Lucanis. I suspect it will take me some time to flesh things out so hopefully that gives you time to finish the game!
─── ⊹⊱♤⊰⊹ ───
“You can’t be serious.”
Fiamma De Riva paced Neve Gallus’ office, bright blue wisps parting for her as she changed directions in the small room. The detective had made cozy conditions out of a not-particularly welcoming space. She’d give her that, but the scattered papers and books set her on edge. Perched atop her desk, Neve sat with one leg crossed over the other. Her dwarven-crafted golden prosthetic glinted in the soft light as she bounced her foot in the air impatiently.
“Rook, we’ve all got tough decisions to make. I know a family reunion isn’t the move you were hoping for, but we need an assassin.”
“You have me!”
“We need another assassin. You might be the Little Flame of Treviso, but we need something bigger, we need-”
Fiamma could hear the weariness in Neve’s words as she touched her forehead absentmindedly and winced, forgetting about the nasty cut gracing her forehead.
Fiamma felt a pang of guilt - if she’d told the mage to stay behind, perhaps things would have ended differently. She might not have gotten hurt and Varric…
Varric.
She shook her head, swallowing hard. Varric was going to be fine. Nobody else seemed worried about him. Why should she be?
“You need the Demon of Vyrantium.”
Neve offered a smile, holding out an opened letter. Fiamma took it apprehensively, her fingertips tracing the wings of the Antivan Crows’ seal.
“I’ve already arranged a meeting with his grandmother, First Talon Caterina Dellamorte, and your cousin, Viago.”
With a resigned sigh, she tossed the envelope aside and crossed her arms, averting her gaze. “I hate that you’re right.”
Neve pushed off her desk, squeezing Fiamma’s shoulder on the way out.
“If it’s any consolation, I usually am.”
─── ⊹⊱♤⊰⊹ ───
Fiamma arranged for them to meet with a former friend, Teia, in Treviso, prior to meeting with Viago and Caterina. It would soften the blow of returning home to be greeted by a friendlier face first.
“You made it. I hear you go by Rook these days.”
“It’s good to see you. Neve, meet Andarateia of House Cantori.”
“No need to be formal with friends. Teia, please. Come, Viago is gathering the others. He’s happy you’re home.”
“I somehow doubt that.”
“He’s missed you. You broke his heart when you went away.”
“And he broke mine when he had me waiting on Caterina like a handmaid instead of protecting our city.”
Teia sighed, proceeding to lead them through the city.
“When you said the others, did the others include Illario?”
“Oh, please, Fi-Rook. He doesn’t bite.”
“He might as well.”
Fiamma glanced around at their surroundings, the dilapidated buildings, the quiet streets that were once bustling with life, romance, and joy.
“I hate seeing Treviso ground down like this.”
“This occupation will not last. The Antivan Crows remain. And one day, I will see a knife through every would-be tyrant’s throat.”
They took a zipline to the Crows’ headquarters. Fiamma swung from the bars, enjoying the wind on her face as the city skyline swept below her feet. She landed with a cat’s grace, greeted by the familiar thud of cobblestone beneath her boots. She’d never admit it out loud, but she missed this.
“A casino. Nice.” Neve said as they walked across a narrow beam.
“The Cantori Diamond.” Fiamma sneered.
“Watch it.” Teia called back to her.
Vaulted ceilings and plush furniture awaited them in the meeting chamber. Fiamma eyed the empty goblets near one chair, wondering which was full of the diluted poison Viago dosed himself with every day. Paranoid bastard.
“Two years.” Her cousin growled as they entered.
“Nice to see you too, Viago.”
“Did you finish that contract? To stop your Dread Wolf?”
“It wasn’t a formal contract. I left, remember?” Fiamma asked. “When you called me an embarrassment to our house? But since you asked, no, not yet. Things are more complicated.”
“How many times do I have to tell you? Crows always finish the job.”
“We just can’t take initiative, right? My run-in with the Antaam taught me that.” She bit back.
“Don’t let him scold you too much. Vi was worried about you.” Teia interjected to ease the tension.
Viago lowered his head, clearing his throat and kicking at the polished ground under his boots. “Fiammetta-”
“It’s Rook, now.”
From the corner of her eye, she watched as Illario shifted his weight from foot to foot, watching her with a pained expression. She’d deal with that later.
“Rook. You remember Caterina Dellamorte.” Viago said.
“A pleasure.” She gave a slight bow. Despite changing the First Talon’s linens and bringing her breakfast on her balcony, Fiama had acquired a fondness for her.
“Have you finally returned home, Fiamma?” Illario interrupted, and the thin smile Caterina began to offer vanished.
“I’ve come to ask for assistance. My current target is a pair of elven gods - that’s what they call themselves, at least. They’re ancient blighted mages. I need our best. Someone who brought blood mages and Venatori to their knees.”
“My grandson.” Caterina said, her brow furrowing.
“Lucanis Dellamorte is dead.” Viago said, “He was killed a year ago now. If you’d remained home, you’d know-”
“Dead?” Fiamma blinked. She never thought it would be possible for anyone to best the Demon of Vyrantium. Not unless foul play was involved. Despite his occasional smugness, she found no pleasure in the news. Particularly since there wouldn’t be another assassin on offer even half as good as him. Her eyes flicked to Caterina, to offer condolences. The First Talon would never admit to playing favorites, but in the time Fiamma spent in her home, and being courted by her youngest grandson, it was clear Lucanis was who she favored to take her place.
“What I say doesn’t leave this room.” Caterina said, “The body our people brought back was not my grandson. It was dressed in his clothing, but it had been altered with blood magic to have his face.”
“My cousin is still alive?” Illario hissed, “And you didn’t think to tell me?”
“His ship was attacked. We knew someone sold him out…so you kept your suspicions to yourself?” Viago was clearly surprised by the news.
“But you’ve brought it up now. Why?” Neve asked.
“I’ve had eyes on the Venatori ever since they took my grandson from me,” Caterina answered. “They were hunting your Dread Wolf. And what you did to his ritual threw them into disarray. They made mistakes, and now I have a location. The Ossuary. Where the Demon of Vyrantium is kept. Find this Ossuary. Find Lucanis, and you’ll have your god-killer. And I’ll have my grandson.”
“Come. Caterina arranged a boat. One of our mages will meet us there.” Illario said, leading them to the docks.
“A boat?” Fiamma asked, following him down the steps.
“Did you think the Venatori would keep a normal prison? Or that one could hold the Demon of Vyrantam? The Ossuary lies beneath the sea. A fact I learned mere minutes ago. Maybe she thought I’d act too rashly trying to save him.” He said bitterly, his eyes meeting hers. “Seems everyone enjoys keeping me in the dark.”
“Illario-”
“I would have words with you upon your return.” He commanded, “Right now, I need to learn whether my cousin is still alive.”
A small boat rocked in the gentle current by the dock, a lantern affixed to its bow. A Crow in a purple hood watched them warily, waiting.
“There, you take the boat.”
“You’re not coming?”
“You play the alluring hero. You’re the one who needs redemption so badly.” Illario was on edge, but there seemed to be more to it than a broken heart and family drama. “Someone has to make sure we weren’t followed.”
As the boat pushed away from the dock, Fiamma watched him disappear into the streets of Treviso. She didn’t miss him. Most times, she didn’t like him. But she knew how he felt about his family, and her heart ached for him, even just a little.
─── ⊹⊱♤⊰⊹ ───
By Lucanis Dellamorte’s count, he had been in this underwater prison for a year.
Give or take.
It would be beautiful if he were here for any other reason. When he’d arrived to start the contract assigned to him, the views were breathtaking.
Occasionally, he’d prayed the enchantments keeping the Ossuary in place would fail. That he’d drown and get lost in the fade, or wherever he was bound to go. What would happen to him in death? And Spite, the demon who shared his body and consciousness? They had an agreeable ally ship, if only because they were both imprisoned and stuck with one another against their will.
He’d scratched a mark for each day in his crystalline prison. With no weapons, he used his fingernails, sometimes scraping until he bled to carve a line deep enough. He had to remember. He had to survive.
The days Calivan didn’t send for him, he scratched to the left. The days he was tortured, on the right. Eventually, the right became so crowded, they all blurred together.
A familiar voice caught his attention outside, interrupting his ritual.
“We don’t have to fight. We’re just here for Lucanis Dellamorte.”
“Come to save us?” Spite asked eagerly. “Took them long enough.”
But who was it? Not Caterina. He’d know it was her in an instant. Not Teia…
“Razikale, Dragon of Mystery. Lusacan, Dragon of Night—” As the Ossuary Guard began his incantation, Lucanis sensed Spite’s excitement.
“Hear your faithful call—”
“Now, now!”
With the guard distracted, the defenses of his prison were weak enough that Spite propelled them over the top.
He was flying.
A lifetime of training and muscle memory returned to him instantly. On instinct, he seized the nearest guard from behind, using him as a shield as another advanced on him with a sword, cutting clean through. With a swift, fluid motion, he propelled the lifeless body into his attacker, sending them into the air to be impaled by a nearby crystal stalagmite. With a running charge, he snapped the necks of two advancing guards, stealing one’s sword. His hand closed around the hilt, the cool metal causing him - and Spite - to shiver with anticipation. He turned at the sound of footsteps, slashing the throat of the final Venatori.
“Lucanis.”
He turned slowly to greet his rescuer, the essence of Spite’s wings retreating into his spine.
Fiamma De Riva. Viago’s little cousin. She’d been sentenced to serve as Caterina’s assistant as punishment for foiling a Crow operation. Good intentions aside, she’d acted rashly, and whether she believed it or not, she got off easy.
De Riva had always been pleasant enough. A bit cold towards him, but he didn’t hold it against her. Lucanis could tell her ego was hurt. Even worse, he knew she looked at Caterina’s home, the home he grew up in, and felt he hadn’t earned it. And she’d been right. He’d only earned his place in those halls by birthright, but his place in the Crows…he’d earned through blood and sweat.
But never tears. Caterina had no patience for tears. Poor Illario.
She’d been given the quarters next to his during her assignment. Despite her reputation for being a bit of a spitfire, living up to her namesake of “Little Flame”, she was quiet. Polite. And she treated his grandmother well. Earned her respect - no simple task. She was possibly the only person who Caterina Dellamorte would listen to regarding her health. If little De Riva had tacked a few more years on to his grandmother’s life, she had his gratitude for it.
Oh, how Illario had pined for her. She entertained it for some time, before his spoiled nature got on her nerves. But he fell hard. Once, his cousin drank himself into such a state outside Fiamma’s locked door that he nearly failed to fulfill a shared contact. Lucanis had to slap him awake, then pull him along just so he could do all the heavy lifting.
He’d do it all over just to see his little cousin again.
“Little De Riva? She looks like a grown woman to me.” Spite interjected, making him acutely aware that he was never alone in his thoughts.
“I’m only five years her senior. But five years is a sizeable gap when you’ve known someone since childhood.” Lucanis thought back quickly, dismissing the demon’s observations.
“Dellamorte!” Beside Fiamma, a dwarf woman had her bow pulled tightly, aimed in his direction.
“Rook. He’s possessed by a demon.” She warned.
“Rook?” Lucanis tilted his head curiously.
“It’s complicated.” She blurted. “Caterina promised us a mage killer if we broke you out of here. Can I count on you?”
He nodded. “I can still work.”
“Are you really possessed?”
“It’s complicated.” He said, glancing around the room. “I will help you, but I need something from you first. They have a vial of my blood. They can use it to control me. I cannot leave it in their hands. And…I had a contract when I was captured. One of my targets is here. Calivan.”
“Blood magic.” She scowled. “Come on. He’s good to go, Harding.”
“Forget the contract. We need to get out of here!” Harding said, her arrow still pointed at the center of his chest.
“Crows don’t break contracts.” He and De Riva said in unison.
Harding sighed and lowered her bow. “Alright, let’s make this quick.”
“I’ll owe you.” Lucanis said as they exited the chamber.
“I’m sure we’ll owe each other when this is all over.” Rook countered.
“Yes. I’d like to be owed a favor by the Little Flame.” Spite growled with delight.
De Riva was an impressive assassin, he thought to himself, as they fought their way through Venatori. He hadn’t seen her fight often, but it was evident she wasn’t out of practice. She’d left Treviso shortly before he’d been captured, where he wasn’t sure, but it was encouraging to see a Crow refuse to give up her work. It was good work.
“I found it!” Rook’s voice broke him from his thoughts. She held the flask of his blood in the air and his stomach clenched. She was a mage, after all, and with his blood in her hands-
“Destroy it!” He and Spite snarled at the same time. She hesitated, staring at the vial in her palm.
“Can I trust you? Can you promise me I don’t need to stow this for safekeeping?”
“Not hers!” Spite screamed in his head. “Stop her! Throttle her until she-”
“You can trust me,” Lucanis said evenly.
Rook’s eyes narrowed. “I hope you’re right.”
She threw the vial to the ground, and with a flick of her wrist, ignited the remnants of his blood in flame.
“Thank you.” He said,
“Don’t mention it. Let’s go kill your target.”
─── ⊹⊱♤⊰⊹ ───
Caterina was nowhere in sight when Lucanis returned to Treviso.
“Maker…” Teia breathed as he and Rook entered.
“What happened here?” Lucanis demanded.
Illario slammed his fist on the table. “A message. From Zara Renata.”
Spite raged in his skull, so loudly that he didn’t notice Illario approaching.
“I can’t believe it. You’re home.” He said, grasping Lucanis’ thumb and wrapping his fingers around it in a typical Crow handshake.
“Zara…her people got this close?” Lucanis asked, letting his arm fall to his side as he paced, assessing the room.
“The woman who runs the prison?” Rook asked.
“The woman who captured me.” Lucanis glanced towards the door. “Where’s Caterina?”
Teia lowered her head and stifled a sob, Viago coming behind her and placing his hand on her shoulder. Something always existed between them, but Lucanis wasn’t sure if they’d acted on it yet.
“The Venatori got her in the confusion.” Viago said.
“I get two of you back, just to lose the other.” Illario lamented.
“Lucanis…I’m so sorry.” Neve said from behind Rook.
“No…time…to…grieve!”
Lucanis ignored Spite.
“I need to work.”
“You should take some time-” Neve began, holding out her hand.
“He doesn’t need time.” Rook interjected, stepping forward and holding his gaze. “He needs a target.”
Spite’s responding arousal was palpable.
“I like her.”
─── ⊹⊱♤⊰⊹ ───
Lucanis braced one arm on the weathered mantelpiece, staring into the flames as they crackled on the hearth. He was in the fade. Or something like that. The Lighthouse, Rook had called it. And what a strange place it was. Fiamma - Rook now, as she asked him to address her - had another companion, Bellara, who had been thinking out loud since his arrival.
“-they’re the same thing. Mostly. Kind of,” she said to Neve from the table.
“Except one will manipulate you. Or kill you. Or both.” Neve replied.
The doors to the kitchen opened.
“What’s everyone talking about?” Rook asked.
Lucanis turned away from the hearth.
“Spite.”
“The demon inside of Lucanis.” Neve clarified. ���When a person gets possessed, the demon usually takes control.”
“And they turn into a monster. The spirit just…molds them. However they want.” Bellara added.
Neve’s mouth formed a line. “I’ve heard of abominations being cured by killing the demon in the Fade. That’s not a sure bet, though.”
“Well, there’s one way…” Bellara said, staring at her hands, “but it’s…well…we’d have to, um…”
“You’d have to kill me,” Lucanis finished.
The room seemed to hold its breath.
“We’ll find another way.” Rook said. She didn’t seem impassioned about the statement, but it was comforting she wanted him alive. Behind her, Spite admired her with a sinister smile.
“She won’t hurt you. How sweet.”
Get away from her. Lucanis commanded.
The demon leapt back next to the fireplace, crouching, and Lucanis turned his head to ignore him.
“I want to talk to her.”
The others continued their conversation, but he couldn’t hear anything over Spite’s impatience.
“Let me talk to them! I want. To talk. To ROOK!”
“ROOK!”
The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them, Spite channeling all of his energy into the equivalent of a punch to the face. Lucanis pinched his nose, feeling the blood pool between his thumb and forefinger, with a stifled gasp of pain.
Bellara shot up from her seat, mouth agape.
“Lucanis!”
He held out his hand in protest, his voice calm, summoning years of training to keep himself from trembling. “No. It’s fine. I’m fine.”
“What just happened?” Rook asked.
“He’s throwing a tantrum because he didn’t get his way. He’d do this in the Ossuary. The Fade does whatever a spirit wants. Real walls with chains, not so much. Just…give me a minute. He’ll get bored once everyone leaves.”
Rook lingered, hands on a chair back, as the others left, eyeing him warily.
“You’re still here.” Lucanis said.
“Having an abomination in the Lighthouse makes me nervous.” She finally said after several beats of silence.
He bristled. “Well, being an abomination makes me nervous, too.”
He held up a hand to silence her, walking around the table until he was only a sword’s length from her, studying her face. He couldn’t fault Illario for being heartbroken. She was stunning. How many times had she used her looks to her advantage? Was she like Teia, killing only men who deserved it by luring them to their deaths, like a Siren at sea? Or did she use the advantage of her beauty to kill more than just politicians and rapists?
“No scars. A talented assassin.” He said, fixing the cuffs of his shirt.
She pulled down the collar of her jacket, revealing gashes along the side of her throat. He let his eyes linger curiously.
“My second most valuable asset is my face. I protect it.”
“What other scars does she have? What other scars could we give her?”
“Hmm.” He ignored Spite’s lust for violence - or maybe it was just plain lust - and took a few steps back, dragging his finger along the wood of the dinner table.
“What’s your first?”
She turned to depart, the heels of her boots clicking on the stone floor as she strode towards the doors, throwing them open. She grinned over her shoulder back at him, showing him just how charming she could be.
“My aim.”
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