#WOOF A FULL FIC? ME? YEAH

[courtingchaos]

Feast

Pairing: Eddie x Reader x Steve, past Eddie x Steve (set in my Line Cook Eddie AU)

Word Count: 9.8K

Summary: It’s a Graveyard Lake House Smash 🎃

A/N: When I tell you Woof, I mean WOOF. I don’t want to tell you all how long I’ve had this sitting in the crockpot. It’s surprising it didn’t turn to ash. Instead I got this! Struck by what I can only describe as mania I was able to finish this and edit it all with the help of @jo-harrington . Now I have many many MANY people to thank for this even being an idea for me to play around with and I won’t fill this page up with a bunch of tags. Those of you that were there for its inception know and that’s what matters. Talk about a fucking labor of love. I pulled this out of my own viscera, I hope you like it ❤️ (Also, reference is made to the fic Strawberry if you guys want to go look at that smut too, but it is not needed.)

Warnings: Drug use (cocaine, weed), Drinking, DVP, Unprotected sex, Sex while under the influence

NSFW 18+ No Minors

“Oh this is cute.” The flyer invite is bright orange and full of Eddie’s little doodles.

“Yeah? You like it?” Eddie leans over your shoulder. “Made it all by myself.”

“You even signed it, look at you.” You grab his chin and give it a wiggle before he plants a kiss on your cheek.

“Obviously we’re invited. I’ve got my costume all planned out already.” He heads into the bedroom and misses you pulling a face.

“Well I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I won’t be there.”

His head sticks out around the doorframe, “What?”

“Yeah, too many requests off. I gotta close.”

“Okay? You’re off at what, 9:30?” Eddie waves you off before disappearing in the bedroom. “I’ll pick you up and we can be to Steve’s by 10, 10:30. Piece of cake, piece of crumb cake.” He does his best Father Guido from inside his closet and it makes you laugh.

“I’m gonna be tired, Ed.”

“And I’m gonna have weed.” He reappears with a different hoodie on.

You huff. “I don’t have a costume.”

“I’ll find you one.”

“I hate bagged stuff!” You aren’t really arguing with him, just pushing his buttons enough to see where his exasperation will take him. It sends his arms over his head while he goes headlong into all the costumes you could put together with the shit in your own closet.

“So no bagged stuff! You could pull off a Nancy Downs or a Sidney.”

“Will you go as Stu?”

Eddie stands like he’s upset with you, arms crossed and voice dropping low for a moment. “You know damn well I’d have to go as Billy. Plus,” he flits his hand beside his face, “like I said I already have my costume.”

“You won’t tell me?” You don’t even fake your pout. “I need help with an idea! Come on!”

“It’s a surprise!” He shakes your shoulder and when you don’t stand he hauls you up by your hand so you can finally run errands for the day. “Look, when we’re done at the store I’ll help you dig through your shit and piece something together.”

By store he really meant every shop in town with a Halloween section and only a quick run into a grocery store for mac and cheese. One of your last stops is at a Party City where you’re staring at the wall of masks feeling a little dejected. Halloweens haven’t felt fun in a while and this one was shaping up to be just as disappointing. You’re eying one of those big articulated scarecrow masks when Eddie comes bounding up to you with a clutch of cellophane in his hands.

“I figured it out.” Is all he says before practically skipping back the way he came, right into the latex and spirit gum section.

“Ed I don’t want to do a whole thing, especially if I can’t wear it at work.”

“No this is easy shit, it goes on like a temporary tattoo.” He holds one of the thin packs up against your face before shaking his head and tossing it back on a hook. Another one he’s been clutching skims your cheek and his eyes light up. “No this is perfect.”

“You gonna let me in on this little secret?” You crane your neck to see what he has. “Is that a pentagram?”

“Do you still have that cheer skirt?”

You think you might know what he’s getting at. “The black and red one?”

He nods his head and picks up a packet of ‘fresh’ colored blood.

“Yeah.” And with that he’s off down the aisle again, beelining for the color coded tailgating section.

“If they have them in stock—hell yeah.” He holds up a red and a black pompom. “Cookin’ with fire now.” His grin is infectious.

“You know I don’t have any costume contacts, right?”

Eddie’s ‘pshh’ is so self assured. “With this it won’t matter.” He points at the pentagram transfer. “See? I told you I’d figure it out.”

In the small bathroom at work you feel only slightly ridiculous.

It’d been a few Halloween’s ago that you’d worn this skirt and now it’s a little more snug, sits a little higher on your thigh and hugs your stomach a little tighter. The cropped tee doesn’t leave much to the imagination and the thigh highs feel a little like overkill.

It’s cute, objectively. You know it but you still spend a little too much time staring at the back of yourself as best you can, making sure your whole ass isn’t out on display. A soft knock on the door reminds you of your faithful coworker waiting on you to finish up so they can run off to their own plans.

“Sorry, one sec!” You shove your work clothes into your tote bag and give yourself one last hard stare. “You’re gonna be fine.” You say with some finality to your reflection, black press on nail tapping on the glass.

Outside Eddie sits in his truck, idling next to your car and you take your sweet time strolling over to him. His eyes glint in his side view while the rest of his face stays obscured and you wonder just what costume he’s put on, right until you catch the tilt of his head and you see what sits there. Your pace quickens and you have to hold the hem of your skirt down when you all but run across the parking lot, stopping at his open window to stare at him wildly.

“Oh no, you did not.”

He most certainly did.

The cigarette clenched between his fangs glows in the dark cab, shimmering lips pulling into a smile around the filter. “Do what?” He asks like he has no idea what’s on his body. The run of chains around his neck clink and catch the light of the street lamps. From under his curls the tips of pointed prosthetics peak out, gold rings pierced through the latex. The matte red body paint lays in a thin layer on his face and just barely down his neck, his chest on full display under his barely buttoned black shirt.

“Not the Bard.” His hands glint with more rings than normal, jeweled gold he’d picked up at last year’s Ren Faire. You catch the black claws stuck to his nails and he laughs at your shocked expression.

“What’s wrong with my Bard?”

You gesture wildly at his whole being and you haven’t even started to look up at the horns on his head. Long red ones that curl against his crown, gold chains dripping off the curves. Painted bands shimmer just like the gold on his lips and you almost open your mouth to cancel your plans.

Eddie clicks his tongue at you like he’s read your mind. “Hop in quick, it’s like a 45 minute drive.”

You huff, hands still anchored on the window while you gawk at him. His make up is perfect, his clothes thrown on too easily. There’s a smokey scent that lingers, something not from his cigarette, and you wonder if he got into your perfume oils; Incense and wood fire swirling around him. He taps your knuckles to get them off his door and when you go to walk around the bed of the truck he just whistles at you, nodding his head towards the hood.

“No no, give me a little preview.”

You almost don’t give in. The doubt is trying its hardest to claw up your back but you ignore it and let the headlights cast your shadow on the building. Eddie’s delighted laughter rolls from his open window and when you get into the truck his hand finds the exposed swath of thigh above the socks.

“Told you it’d come together.” A firm squeeze and a straying pinky when you twist around to set your bag in the backseat, the soft pads of his fingers grazing higher under the hem of your skirt.

“You like it?” You sound a little unsure, like he wasn’t the one to lay the outfit out for you to give your seal of approval. It isn’t like you need his constant validation but it feels nice to let him ogle you every once in a while.

“If I didn’t have promises to keep I’d be taking you straight home.” He leans in toward you, careful of all his pieces and face paint, lips close but just out of reach.

“The quicker we get out there, the quicker we can get home.” You try to bridge the distance but Eddie pulls back, another sharp grin aimed at you.

“You should finish your makeup before we get there.” He taps the glove box before leaning back into his seat. “I saved you something for the ride over.”

He keeps his hand in place the whole way to Steve’s. Even when you pull out the joint he rolled for you, in the fun striped papers you’d shown him weeks ago. You relax and try to get your eyeliner done first before you’re too high to care and when you’ve finally put your bag away Eddie becomes your sole focus.

His hand might stay firmly planted but yours don’t. It starts off easy enough, plucking at his necklaces and pendants, letting them fall back on each other and clink. A twist of a ring on his free hand and pulling at the bracelet warmed by his wrist. You run a light finger along his pointed ear and you don’t miss the slight shiver that runs down his neck.

His neck.

You drop that hand and trail the tip of your fake nail over his skin to pull up goosebumps, carefully avoiding smudging any paint. He lets you drop a peck or two but he’s serious about not messing up his makeup, “at least not yet.”

Since you’ve been denied a treat, you pull lightly at his collar so you can nibble on his shoulder. Fingers trailing down the wide open valley of buttons, your other hand dancing across his lap to scratch at the seam of his jeans.

“You’re terrible.” He admonishes you but it’s all for show, if he was serious about you taking your hands off him he wouldn’t have grinned at you like that.

Halfway out of your seat and draped over the center console is how you spend the last half of your drive, an earring between your teeth while you distract him just enough to swerve a few times.

The lake house emerges along the horizon suddenly, almost like you’d been distracted by the button on Eddie’s jeans. The gravel crunches under the tires down the long drive and orange, green and purple string lights help direct you to the actual house.

Steve’s family’s lake house is a mimic of a rustic cabin, one big peaked roof and a massive back deck that wraps around the side. It looks like someone pulled a giant A-frame directly up out of the ground, Halloween decor and all. You stare up at it surrounded by trees, the big windows flashing intermittently with light, music thumping dully out into the sleeping nature.

“Whoa.” Actually you loose all focus of what’s in Eddie’s pants as you finally grasp the size of the property and the crowd outside.

“See? Could have missed all this if we’d just gone home.” Eddie parks and unbuckles himself so he can twist around carefully for the bag in the back. “Now sit still, I gotta put your pentagram on.”

That pulls your attention back to him, especially when he sets a water bottle down first. He peels the transfer apart and you watch him silently, lulled by a full work day and the haze of weed. He’s right, it does go on like a temporary tattoo and when a drip of water falls between your breast you giggle.

“Making a mess already?” You hold the edges of your cut up collar away so you don’t get it stuck and Eddie just shakes his head.

“Are you gonna be like this all night?”

“Do you want me to be?”

Eddie’s hand is flat against your chest to hold the prosthetic in place so you know he feels the uptick of your heartbeat. It’s close and cozy in this cab, close enough that you can see the corner of his mouth twitch and the crinkle of his light crows feet. His eyes drop from your chest to your cleavage and you lean in a little more, push your arms in a little tighter.

“Can I have a kiss?” Whispered just between you two. “Since I’ve been so good tonight.”

He hums, lips pursed, and checks on your pentagram instead. The paper lifts and his hand moves away and you follow him, lips leading to the golden shimmer you’ve been eyeing. It’s quick but it’s what you wanted, just a little more of his attention on you.

He huffs when you pull away. “See this is why I wanted to wait.” His thumb rubs against your chin and he pulls it back to show you the smear of red. “Now you’re marked.”

You think if you can crawl into his lap right now he might abandon this deal tonight. He looks at you from under hooded eyes, eyes that linger on your bare skin. There’s a moment when he takes a deep breath you think you can maybe break him with a well placed purr of his name but—

“Eddie!” The rap of knuckles on the window makes you jump and with it the spell breaks. Robin is waving at the two of you, grinning wide and unknowing of what she’s done. “You guys look great!” Her voice is muffled by the glass so Eddie opens the door and starts his personality up for the show.

You figure out that Robin has gone as Weird Barbie and you love it, especially because she’s obviously a few Malibu and Pineapple’s deep and she keeps you slung close while she directs you and Eddie around.

“Jon and Nance are Beetlejuice and Lydia.” She points in a vague direction of the house where you see neither of them. “Lucas and Max couldn’t make it because they’re doing the ‘parent thing’ obviously.” Her air quotes almost make her spill her drink and Eddie takes it from her with a sigh.

“It’s not even midnight yet, Rob.”

“Hush! I don’t actually know what the hell Dustin is, I think it’s a chemical compound.” She says out of the side of her mouth, gesturing at Eddie to give her a sip from her solo cup. “Will is an amazing Orville Peck, he made his own mask! The fringe is so long!”

You laugh at her pointing at meaningless areas, no one being where she thinks they are.

“And where’s our host?” Eddie asks, scanning the heads outside.

“Oh he’s been so lame. You know, he slapped a name tag on an hour before the party and called it his costume?” Robin looks so disappointed. “I offered to make him a Ken three months ago and he acted like I’d insulted him.”

“Well what’s he wearing? I’d rather him not blow up my phone.”

“Black hat, backwards like an asshole. Red sweater.” Robin drops you off at the doorway into the cabin and snatches her drink back from Eddie. “Name tag says ‘God’.” She leaves you with a heavy eye roll before slipping into the masses.

A quick schmooze around the open downstairs and you’re finally left to your own devices, drink secured in your hand.

“Now don’t go running off without me, okay?” Eddie puts a stern finger in your face and you snap your jaws at it. He ignores you. “I’m serious, meet me up in the loft.” He points the same finger upwards and you nod wordlessly. “Hopefully this shouldn’t take too long and we can go hang out on the dock.”

You frown. “It’s kind of cold out.”

“Oh no.” Eddie waves his hands at you, feigning being distraught. “I guess we’ll have to cuddle, oh no!”

You flip him off as he walks away and he blows you a kiss and immediately you begin timing him to see how long it will actually take him.

You don’t recognize anyone here. Maybe a few people from Stacy’s, some of the line cooks and waitstaff, but no one you can start a conversation with that wouldn’t end up feeling awkward. There’s the obvious close friends of Eddie’s but even they aren’t as known to you and even so, you’ve spotted them chatting with other people already. You sip on your drink and you sigh and resign yourself to waiting it out.

Leaning on the bannister of the loft you look down and spot Eddie animatedly telling someone something, his jewelry sparkling in the flashing lights. His voice carries sometimes, even in a party like this and you watch him with amusement. It doesn’t take long to loose him though and you pull your phone out to distract you, just before a flash of maroon catches your eye and you turn to find Steve looking surprised with two cups in his hands.

“I was trying to sneak up on you, how did you know?”

“I bet you’re one of those guys who doesn’t say ‘behind’ at work, aren’t you?”

“Oh no, I learned my lesson there.” He sets the drinks on the bannister and pulls up his sleeve to show you a silvery scar near his elbow. “That’s where I took a parring knife around a corner, I don’t fuck around in there anymore.” He laughs.

“Was it Eddie?” You ask like you already know the answer but Steve shakes his head hard.

“No, some other dude but Ed did yell at him for walking around with a knife held out in front of him. ‘What are you trying to do, shiv him?’” He puts on a face that you correctly guess is an imitation of an angry Eddie.

“Aw, did he look out for you?” You reach out and pinch Steve’s cheek and he swats you away, his ears flushing a bright red.

“Speaking of, where is he? He has my weed.”

“I don’t know, I lost him in the masses.” You gesture at the crowd below just as the music and lights change, making it darker and harder to make out a detail.

“Shit.”

“Shit indeed. My high is wearing off and there are too many people I don’t know here.” You finish off your drink and Steve is holding up one of his cups to replace it. You raise an eyebrow in question and he just swings it at you so you’ll take it.

“I saw you up here, thought I’d bring you a drink. Didn’t know how long you’d been here.”

Something about his expensive smile always makes you want to giggle. You know that he’s aware of his charms but even then you can’t help how easy he makes it. The flattery is always there, especially if Eddie is around, and if you didn’t know any better you might have the sneaking suspicion he was flirting.

“All by my lonesome?” You shake your new drink at him and he rolls his eyes.

“Not like that, I brought two in case Ed was up here.”

He’s always flirting actually, you think it might just be an integral cog of his makeup at this point. You’ve seen the way it slips into the most innocuous conversations with Eddie, though he’s always trying to banter.

You drop the sly accusatory look and shrug. “Good luck. I was told to stay put till he came back.”

“Or, and hear me out, we could go find him together.” He says it like it’s the best idea he’s ever had and honestly? You look around at the sparsely populated loft and check the time on your phone, noticing you’ve already wasted half an hour doing nothing.

“I’m in.”

An hour of wandering and you haven’t run into Eddie again. He didn’t ditch you, far from it. You know your blood covered boobs and incredibly short skirt wouldn’t leave his mind but you do know he how he loves to talk. Someone must have gotten him on a kick and he’s been passed around through groups, his storytelling making bursts of laughter float up from different corners of the party.

“Did he really tell you stay upstairs?” Steve asks, shouldering through a group with a short wave.

“Yeah, but he looses track of time at parties. You know how he is.” You’re a few drinks deep now so any annoyance has burned off, especially since Steve has been nice enough to walk around with you. The view from behind while you followed wasn’t bad either. It makes you smirk and you hide that in your drink, your wandering gaze following his long legs.

One more inside lap before you both stop at the kitchen island covered in bottles to top up and Steve finally calls it.

“Wanna go sit outside?” He nods his head towards the back deck. “Quieter.” He heads for the wall of windows where people filter out to sit by the water. You weren’t kidding earlier when you said it was chilly and you really hadn’t thought to bring a sweater with you for some reason. Steve notices you hesitate though and seemingly understands. On his way to the door he lifts the seat of a bench up and pulls out a blanket.

Water laps at the deck softly and the chatter dies down finally, the music a distant thump and you feel a little sober taking in the fresh air. Steve holds up the corners of the blanket for you and when you don’t immediately move in he shakes it at you.

“I’m not gonna bite.”

“Aw, really?” It slips out before you can catch it. To Steve’s credit he takes it in stride, barely breaking a grin when you finally snatch the blanket from him. He digs around in his front pocket for a moment and pulls out a crumpled pack of Marlboros. There’s one already tucked behind his ear and you’re about to remind him when he holds up a slim joint.

“I know this is a sad offering, but you want?”

As if on cue there’s a peal of laughter followed by a big splash and you step closer to Steve on the dock to get away from the rippling water. “Jesus, please.”

He eyebrows twitch up and he points lazily at the name tag. “Actually it’s God, but same-same.”

He pulls two Adirondack chairs together and you slide back into one remembering to keep your knees together so you don’t accidentally flash Steve. He holds the joint out to you with his lighter and you gasp theatrically.

“And a gentleman at that!”

It takes a few strikes to get the beat up bic to light and you can feel Steve staring. At first you think he’s judging your lack of finesse but when you go to hand him his lighter his eyes snap up from your legs, a tight smile flashed at you before he holds his hand out to take the joint back. He keeps the conversation light, he tells you about what this lake house used to look like and how much his parents sunk into it to remodel it. He makes small talk seem fun when he frosts his words in charm and you remember the last night he’d been particularly plucky with you.

“I.D.?”

“Steve it’s me.”

“Can’t trust it, gotta see I.D.” He shrugs and holds out his hand and gestures at you when you don’t make a move for your wallet. There’s not even a hint of a smile on his face and you wonder if maybe he’d gotten in trouble for giving you so many free extra pours.

“Okay, okay fine here.” Behind you Eddie is deep in conversation with Jeff about switching a shift and hasn’t noticed the third degree yet. When you finally get the plastic slipped out of your wallet Steve snatches it and leans back with it held up close to his face. He studies it like he’s never seen you or an I.D. before and he keeps flicking his eyes back and forth between it and your face.

A nervous grin breaks out of you when the situation isn’t changing. “Steve? Did I do-“

“There it is.”

“What?” You laugh through your confusion.

“I just needed to see that smile.” Steve hands your card back and slides your drink across the counter with an easy grin.

The high is returning and with it the questions that slip easily from your brain and straight out of your mouth. “Can I ask you something?”

It takes Steve a moment to tear his eyes away from the surface of the lake where it reflects the string lights. “Yeah, what’s up?”

“Remember a few weeks ago when you did the thing with my I.D.?”

His eyebrows scrunch together hard when he tries to piece together what you’re saying. “Your I.D.? Did I loose it?”

You flap your hand at him to try to get him to remember. “No no, the smile thing.”

“Oh!” It dawns on him, his glassy eyes widening. “You like that? That’s one of my better ones.” He seems proud of himself for a pick up line.

“Were you just trying to piss Eddie off or do you just flirt with everyone?”

“Honestly?” Steve scratches his chin lightly, staring back off into the lake’s glassy surface. “I really like messing with Ed. He trusts you so I like to push his buttons.” He shrugs. “Also I do flirt with a lot of people, it gets me good tips.” His laugh makes his eyes crinkle and it makes you think of Eddie.

You take a break to find the bathroom, and to scan for your boyfriend, and when you come up without him you grab two beers from the massive cooler and head back outside. Steve seems a little more alert than when you left him and he points to a space under the deck where two people are cloaked in shadow.

“See that?”

You lean your hip into Steve’s shoulder to balance yourself as you squint, two things becoming harder to do especially together. It isn’t until a wig gets tugged off and both of you gasp, finally realizing that Robin has found a different Barbie. She tugs at Robin, hauling her towards the boathouse and Steve starts laughing.

“Should we help her or…?”

“Nah, she’ll find me in the morning.” Steve sighs and runs his hand up the back of your thigh.

Hm?

You run that feeling through your cotton stuffed brain again. The back of your thigh, the part that is so very bare and just under the hem of your skirt is hot, skin sticky where a palm sits now. It’s wide and a little rough and his fingers give a quick squeeze to the fat there and then proceeds to sit still. You move slowly, your head dropping down to stare at Steve’s easy posture.

“Steven?” You ask slowly.

“Hmm?” He looks up at you with not even a twinkle in his eye. If he were to move his thumb just the slightest bit up he’d be grazing the cuff of your ass and you wonder if he can even feel the sudden heat rolling off you.

“What’s that you got there?” You don’t break eye contact with him.

“Something soft.”

The giggle escapes before you realize it and something in Steve’s features shifts into what looks like pride. You don’t forget where you are so much as you take the bait and turn towards him, leaning down so you’re close to his face and can see the light dusting of freckles on the bridge of his nose.

“I think,” you whisper and cast an exaggerated look around, “you’re tying to get a rise out of someone.”

“Oh?” His cheeks flush, just a tinge of pink that catches your eye.

Steve’s head goes back with a tug of his backwards cap.

“Harrington.” Eddie makes his grand reappearance, seemingly stepping from the shadows to stare down at Steve who stares up in dumbstruck awe.

You’d noticed horns approaching when you’d leaned down and maybe it was the combination of liquor and weed but something bold had taken over, especially when you knew you had Eddie coming to swoop in.

“Finally finished your rounds? I’ve been waiting.” Steve asks your boyfriend, who keeps the bill of the baseball hat between his knuckles.

“You finally finished feeling up my girl? I’m waiting.”

You don’t expect that, the warmth in his tone. The little chuckle, the joking grin. Something about Eddie taking this on the chin makes you pay attention.

“Oh what’s a thigh between friends, huh?”

You can hear the edge in Steve’s voice now, the push to Eddie’s pull. That palm stays firmly planted on you while the two men stare at each other. It’s like they’re speaking in silent code, cats flicking their ears to get their point across. Eddie seems to give in first with a small shrug, letting go of Steve’s hat though his head remains lolled back to stare at the red demon above him.

“Is this imposter bothering you?” Eddie gestures at the peeling name tag stuck to Steve’s sweater and you think about it, honestly.

Where you are right now, is it bothering you?

The hand cradling the back of your thigh, is that bothering you?

The way Eddie seems to be reading your mind, his eyes bouncing between your own and the smile you just realized is warming up your face, does that bother you?

“No.”

This feels like earlier in the night. A heavy hand anchoring you to the moment. A little buzz from your warm high. You’re listening to Eddie smooth talk Steve but all you want is something tactile. Eddie crouches down so he’s eye level with Steve and they lean into each other to conspire, you’d know that look on his face anywhere. It’s one he’s shot you over countless drinks and through crowds and at dinner with friends. He’s got his mind set on something.

He’s too far away though for you to absently run your fingers through his hair so you grab the next best thing. The fringe sticking out from under Steve’s hat is so soft when you rub it between your fingers. Little flips of sun bleached brunette that curl up under the brim and around your finger, twirling between your press ons.

“How is your hair so soft?”

Eddie tilts his head just as Steve slowly turns to look at you with a confused smile. “I spend a lot of money on conditioner.”

“What’s it made of, spun silk?” You drag your nails up the back of his head and he shivers.

Eddie looks downright gleeful. “I told you.”

“Told him what?” Distracted by Steve letting his head fall into your palm you miss Eddie shooting his friend a look.

“How are you feeling?” Eddie asks suddenly. “You still wanna head out?”

“No.” You scratch Steve’s scalp and watch him melt down into the lounge chair. “This is fun.” His hand finally sides down to wrap around your thigh, holding you against him.

“Well Steve has told me something very interesting.”

“What’s that?”

“He’s got a little surprise I think you might enjoy.”

“Oh?” You grab a handful of hair and give Steve a light tug. “Did you bring me a gift?”

“It’s for all of us, actually.”

2 am and the party continues outside the heavy door to Steve’s bedroom. No one blinks an eye when you pull Eddie through the doorway minutes after Steve disappears in there. Not even a knock when Eddie kicks it closed and spins you around to face him.

“You sure about this?” He asks quietly, walking you backwards into the room.

“Absolutely.” You grin, nodding at him.

“Positive?” He holds your gaze to make sure you know he’s serious. Your hands clamp around his face and you pull him in close.

“Yes Eddie.”

Steve’s solid chest bumps into your back, the sweetness of his cologne bursting around you.

“You got it?” Eddie looks past you to ask Steve.

Steve huffs. “Yeah I got it.” He moves around behind you, digging something out of his pocket and his knuckles drag over your ass before his hand appears around you with a little twisted bag between his fingers. “You wanna do the honors?”

“Oh please, it’s your party.” Eddie plays with the hem of your skirt but he watches Steve untwist the bag. Eddie gives you a peck when he catches you trying to turn your head, pulls at your hips to make you face Steve and that self assured grin is present when Eddie holds you still.

“You ever done this before?” Steve asks when he holds up the baggie, eyes dropping to your lips.

“Uh, once. Didn’t really like it.” You watch him work while Eddie stands behind you and runs his hands right up under your skirt. He laughs into your neck and his breath slides under the ripped up collar of your t-shirt. “I don’t think I was with the right people.” You stare at Steve while he dips his index finger into the powder.

“You’ve never done this together?”

“Nope.” Eddie answers for you, his face peeking into your periphery. “Strictly a weed and liquor household, like god intended.” His laugh sends a zap through you, slowed and tingly against your current high. “Isn’t that right baby?” His hand sneaks up under your jaw where his fingers press into your cheeks making your lips purse and part slightly. When Steve’s fingertip grazes your bottom lip you open wider and both men laugh.

“Eager.” Steve says before his finger pushes past your lips and rubs down the side of your gums. The taste is an immediate bitter tang followed by the salt of his skin and you grunt quietly, closing your lips around him. “You’re telling me she’s not a natural at this?” Steve looks past you to Eddie, ignoring you tonguing his finger.

“Not with coke, but she’s real good with things in her mouth, aren’t you?” Eddie’s hand runs down the front of your throat and you hum in agreement. Steve’s finger pops out of your mouth and dips back into the powder, swirling around while he watches from half lidded eyes Eddie kissing along the back of your neck.

“One more.” He promises with a smile and when his finger dips into your mouth again you start to feel the tingle along your gums, something that dances up along your cheeks and zips through your hairline. It fights against the sluggish feeling of the weed and lights up a part of your brain that was trying its best to stay focused through the liquor. Steve is eyeing Eddie while the latter pushes up your shirt, an exchange again made through glances. Steve barely gets his finger out before his mouth is on you, his tongue pushing past your lips to chase your new high.

He’s so warm everywhere. His lips against yours and his chest pressing in and his hands that go right for your jaw those long fingers in the strands at the nape of your neck that give you a shiver up your spine and Eddie must feel those goosebumps when they sprout, they appear so fast and right under his lips and—

“Hey,” Eddie says, turning your head to the side “take a breath.” He breaks your kiss and you whine at the missing warmth of Steve’s soft mouth. “Yeah I know.” He soothes, running a thumb down your cheek. “You still gotta breathe.”

You roll your eyes and take a deep, dramatic breath to show him you still can. Beside you Steve sniffs off the back of his hand before he attaches himself to the side of your neck. His tongue trails over your pulse and Eddie holds your gaze and your chin before he leans in to kiss you.

The coke makes you less hazy, takes the soft edge of the weed and brings it into focus. The feel of Steve’s lips moving up your neck and Eddie’s fingers around your chin. His tongue in your mouth and his other hand slowly tugging up your skirt and Steve’s big palms running up your sides. You can hear the thump of the music outside that feels like it’s trying to keep up with your heartbeat.

There’s a hand pulling at your shirt, pulling it over your head and a hand running up the side of your neck and you hold onto the front of their shirts. You have the distinct feeling of floating while you get pulled and pushed and somewhere in the flurry of caresses you whine into Eddie’s kiss.

A break of lips on your skin and Steve’s shirt hits the floor and then your skirt is getting pushed down to meet them. The strappy set you’d picked out last minute, with all its crisscrossing bands over your hips and across your chest, form a rude arrow between your tits to guide their eyes.

Eddie stares and runs a fingertip under one of the bands to snap it. “Special occasion?”

You don’t answer him, too busy trying to get at his buttons to get his shirt off too. Those tattoos sing at you to be seen and you want to see the starkness of Eddie against Steve’s sun kissed shoulders.

Behind you Steve slides a hand up over your bra and the other down your spine, his lips on the back of your neck. It takes you a second to realize he’s trying to get you to the bed but Eddie notices and changes his stance. He knows how to move you around when he wants and he grabs you around the ribs to give you a push. It’s like all your other games now especially when Eddie starts to follow you back as you shimmy towards the pillows.

The clink of a belt buckle reminds you that Steve is still here. He holds out the baggie to Eddie. “Before you loose track.”

You notice it then, the lack of inebriation in Eddie. Sure he’d been a little toasted from the drive but while he made his rounds it seems like you and Steve were the only ones drinking.

“Actually, come here.” Eddie takes the coke but stops crawling toward you, instead sitting up on his knees and motioning for Steve. “Let me try something.”

Steve can’t get out of his jeans fast enough. He almost trips in his eagerness and Eddie uses it to his advantage. Steve’s flipped on his back with a laugh and all you can do is watch, fascinated with whatever Eddie has planned.

“Do you remember that time we all came up to see you play in college? Like all of us, I think it was the game you tore your shoulder.” Eddie looks down at Steve getting comfortable and throwing his arms out to the side. “That party the night before? What was that girls name?”

“Becca.” Steve says, shifting his gaze to look at you. “Stupid college fling.”

You nod wordlessly and start trying to unhook your bra without moving much. Eddie laughs and holds the baggie open so he can dip his finger in.

“Ah, Becca. She broke up with you the night before a championship game dude. That was cold.” Eddie acts like he’s swirling candy through sugar the way he twirls his finger around but the way you and Steve watch him it might as well be. “Remember how like, no one could find you in the morning? They thought you had gone off and drank yourself stupid over a girl, but where were you again?”

Steve just laughs but you want to know, you want to be in on the joke. Like most times it feels like Eddie hears your thoughts and he turns those big eyes full of mirth to you.

“He was actually passed out in the back of my van, naked.” Eddie gestures at Steve wearing only his boxers and smiling up at him. “This kind of reminded me of that.”

Eddie hovers over Steve, finger ghosting over his lips. “Open.” Steve’s grin splits and Eddie’s claw disappears behind white teeth. Dark ringed eyes flick up to find you where you’ve gone still against the pillows. He looks unbelievably wicked in this room, the gold shimmer on his lips barely mused from kissing you. He must have tossed the small fangs earlier but his mouth still poises danger while Steve sucks on his finger.

You finally find the momentum to drive off the pillows and over to the two of them just as Eddie follows his finger in with his lips. Steve lets a soft moan escape before Eddie covers his mouth with his own, gold staining pink.

You drop your shoulders mid crawl to stretch your hand into Steve’s hair again. You run it through the roots while you stare at them kissing, Steve groaning in the back of his throat when you pull.

“Like that?” You whisper so you don’t break their spell and Steve nods as he looks for something to hang on to. His fingers catch on your bicep and in Eddie’s hair and he’s anchored, hips rolling up into nothing while you tug on the crown of his head.

There’s a little bit of time that seems to slip away from you. One moment you’re watching Eddie take Steve apart and the next he’s moved you again, his arm slung around your middle to pull you flush against his chest, your underwear clutched in his fist, your thoughts soft

Steve watches Eddie’s tattooed hand slide gently around the front of your neck and he knows he’s in trouble. It’s both of you really, not just Eddie, driving him insane. He tilts your head back onto his shoulder and smiles down at you with what Steve thinks is pure adoration. When Eddie shifts his attention to Steve there’s a swooping low in his abdomen at the thought of being let in on whatever this is.

“Wanna help me out?” Eddie tilts his head toward you and that’s when Steve realizes that both you and him are fully naked. Clothes shed in the fast moments between kisses and yet Eddie still has his jeans on. Steve could break out his machismo here, could challenge this and let it be over quick and fast and typical or he could let the reigns go for a night. He thinks about letting himself not be in charge as Eddie moves above him while nudging you forward, knees straddling his hips and before he knows it he’s almost fucking you.

“That feel good baby?” Eddie’s teeth glint in the low light when he bites lightly at your cheek and leaves another mark of red and gold. You laugh breathily and nod your head, pushing your hips down just a little and the head of Steve’s cock pushes in. Both of you gasp and Steve thinks he feels a tear escape. The immediate wet surrounding him and the little display Eddie is putting on above him goes right to his balls and for a moment he thinks he won’t last past this. Eddie’s other hand trails down your stomach, fingers seeking further and further until they reach your bush and the gold rings distract Steve for just a second before they sink into your folds.

You crumple and slide down his cock further and Steve is trying to be respectful, as respectful as he can be, but he’s testing his own limits. A swift buck of his hips and he’d be home.

“I think you should give Steve a break, he looks like he’s loosing brain cells.” Eddie keeps you pressed to him, head lolled back and mouth open and panting, hips searching out his teasing fingers on your clit. “C’mon, give it up for Stevie.” He fake pouts at you and then turns it on Steve.

“Fuck you Ed-“ He’s cut off by the fall of your hips now seated flush against him. Everything about you is warm and wet and soft and amplified. His hands fist into the sheets beside him in an attempt to keep them to himself for the first time tonight, an attempt that Eddie calls out.

“You can touch her Steve, she isn’t gonna break.” He demonstrates this by digging his fingers in a little around your neck and you squeeze around Steve in response. “You want him to touch you, right?”

“Please.”

“Oh, she’s asking so nicely.”

Steve tries to think back to the first time he ever made a passing comment about you and wishes he could kick himself. He’d gone into this night with one other threesome under his belt, some half met happenstance from ten years ago. It’d been sloppy and messy and he’d bent the two girls around to his will but this? He’s unprepared. Any and all of his personal history with Eddie should have given him some kind of clue, but the two of you really are nothing but a flashing red light of trouble.

Your knees dig into his sides while one hand ghosts over his abdomen, looking for purchase. Eddie still holds you close but keeps his eyes on Steve, a suggestion in his gaze.

“Go ahead.” Eddie purrs and Steve finds himself lost in more than just his high. If he didn’t know any better he’d be convinced of his friend’s true nature, a pest of a demon hellbent on driving Steve certifiably insane. However he finds his hands running hot over your thighs and up your sides, over your stomach and under the swell of your breast. Anywhere he can run his hands over the soft skin you’d kept barely hidden all night, skin that he’d been staring at.

Eddie chuckles when Steve finds a nipple, a fierce pinch to it making you gasp and roll your hips and Steve can’t help himself anymore. He grips and thrusts up to punch a sharp moan out of you. Eddie’s fingers stay buried in your cunt and splayed across your throat to keep you pinned to his chest. Steve’s immediate fast pace makes you bounce and he’s transfixed when Eddie sneaks a finger into your hanging mouth to hold your jaw open.

“You should hear her.” He drops a kiss to the corner of your mouth before letting go, lowering you to lay on Steve’s chest. A whine comes from you, a deep sound that pitches up when Steve shifts to hold you in place. He already sits so deep but when he winds his arm around your neck to hold you close you gasp. You can feel Eddie move on the bed, can feel his hand run over your ass, can feel the brush of his suddenly freed cock along your inner thigh. Steve adjust you so your cheek is flat against him and pulls at your hip to spread you open for Eddie.

“Fuck now isn’t that a pretty sight?” His thumb is rough against such sensitive skin when he glides it around your cunt. You try to move your hips as much as you can but the angle you’re at only affords you short rolls of your hips.

“Oh you can do better than that for Steve, can’t you?” Eddie teases and you whine into Steve’s chest.

“He’s being mean isn’t he?” Steve whispers to you. They both laugh at your groan but Steve shushes you, palm rubbing over the back of your neck where he holds you down. “I’ll be the nice one then, huh?”

Struck dumb by the feeling of Eddie pushing forward ever so slightly, all you can do is nod. He tilts your chin up to hold your gaze, his pupils blown out wide and dark and you wonder if yours look just as big.

“Can I—“ Cut off by the feeling of something cold dripping on your ass you almost sit up out of Steve’s grip before Eddie giggles a quiet apology and tosses a little bottle of lube over the side of the bed.

“What do you want?”

“Coke.” The zing is fading and you want to feel it again. The race of goosebumps across your bared flesh. The tingle over your scalp as Steve’s finger glides along your teeth.

Eddie laughs and reaches over to grab the bag and hand it to Steve, tasking him with your request. Still held in place, Steve brings his finger, wet now and dipped in white again, back to your mouth. His finger rubs your gums again and the head of his cock nudging deep and the feel of Eddie’s pressing where Steve already is and you don’t know how much more full you can get. It’s a stretch just with Steve but the insistent pressure from Eddie, the feel of his cockhead popping in makes your breath catch. He’s being careful, just so careful but that need to feel everything and move and moan takes over again and Eddie puts a heavy hand on your back.

“Breathe, baby.”

Instead you whine, held between two solid bodies that keep you still, that stroke your spine and run rough fingers into your hair to keep you from spinning out.

“That’s a pretty sound.” Steve says lowly and out of the corner of your eye you watch him hold his hand up to Eddie who sucks that same finger into his mouth.

The thought is brought to the forefront of your mind quickly, the image so clear and grounding, of Eddie sucking your purple strap. It stops the other spinning thoughts and that initial head rush fades. Against Steve’s chest you mumble about Eddie’s pretty sounds, dazedly watching Steve’s long finger pop out from between those gold lips.

“What was that?” Steve sounds a little breathless.

“Eddie makes pretty sounds too.” The images shuffle in your brain. “When I fuck him he whines and it’s like he’s about to cry or something it’s almost too much.” Behind you Eddie laughs and thrust his hips and you choke on your words, his cock pushing further in and stretching you more. Steve’s laugh turns into a hiss and the hand on your neck clamps down when Eddie’s cock rubs against his.

“Keep talking.” Eddie is breathless but still the only one not blissed out. “You gonna tell him how good I look sucking dick?” He rocks his hips forward gently and ghosts a palm over your lower back. “Steve already knows about that, don’t you big guy?” Eddie teases before leaning over you to catch Steve’s eye. The smear of gold on his bottom lip drives Eddie crazy and the laugh turned stuttered moan when he drives deeper into you makes him wish he had more than just two hands.

“Or maybe Steve can tell you about when I’d drive out for those big parties.”

You like it when Eddie’s gets mouthy. When he starts sparring to get the upper hand. You’re smiling into Steve’s chest with just the barest glimpses of Eddie above you. He rocks in and out of the corner of your vision and under your ear you can hear the rumble of Steve trying his best to keep it together.

“Remember almost getting caught in the frat your freshman year? What a bunch of dumbasses.” Eddie’s laugh has an edge to it now and your chest swells with some kind of pride that he’s finally starting to falter.

“Yeah…b-because you c-couldn’t shut up.” Steve finally speaks, his hips starting to falter the slow rhythm he’d been keeping up. “It’s why we had to mo-ve to the van.”

Eddie’s hand appears when he lays his whole body on you so he can reach for Steve’s hair to give it a tug. The change in angle and Steve’s moans cancel out any quip you were trying to cobble together, a calm instead seeping in as the coil low in your abdomen begins to tighten. Eddie runs his mouth but you can’t pay attention to him with the way him and Steve seem to work in tandem for a blissful moment.

It’s too much and it’s not enough and you pant and whine and scratch at Steve’s chest. There’s no more rhythm then, just the snapping of their hips against you while they race to their own ends. Steve grips you hard before he slams his hips up one last time and stills, a long groan from deep in his chest your only warning before he cums. It’s a chain reaction of Steve going boneless and Eddie cursing behind you, picking up pace and bullying that tender spot enough to make you seize up. It sneaks up on you so fast, makes you loose your breath for a moment. A leg shaking orgasm, your fingers wound tightly enough in Steve’s hair to make him hiss, all you can hear is the guttural groan coming from you and Eddie’s praise. It tumbles out of his mouth with little sense and you know he’s done in when his thumbs rub tight, fast circles on your hip before he stills.

Hearing and speech aren’t really a thing for you yet but you do grunt in appreciation when Steve seems to come to some of his senses and reaches up to pull the stupid horns off of Eddie’s head that’s resting between your shoulder blades.

“Thanks.” Eddie’s breath fans over your sweaty skin and he makes no attempt at moving yet. Someone has fingers in your hair, you can’t tell, and Eddie is rubbing his face against you and giving you little kisses along your shoulder. Steve’s breathing is finally calming down and in turn it makes you even out too, realizing how sticky you are everywhere.

“I hate to break this up,” Your voice is scratchy and small coming from between them, “but I need to go to the bathroom.”

You stumble back into the room, falling down into the bedding and Eddie slithers up from where he was sitting at the foot of the bed to leave a trail of kisses all the way up. He winds himself between your legs and drapes them over his hips and continues to leave kisses up your stomach and over the peeling prosthetic on your chest. He dots your neck and cheeks and all around your mouth before he finally gives you a real kiss. He makes you giggle with his doting and when he tries to put your underwear back on for you but the straps outwit him. Instead he tugs on the sheet beneath you and tucks in around you, leaving your clothes on the floor for later.

“Do you need anything?” He says it quietly, thinking Steve is dozing beside you. “Other than water I mean.”

You’re tired and achey and still high from various things and all you can think to ask for is: “Crackers.”

“In bed?” Eddie gives you an unbelieving look but when you just grin sleepily at him he shrugs. “I won’t kick you out.” He gets up slowly and kicks stuff around on the floor to find his own shirt when the shifting of bed springs grabs his attention. Steve is seemingly trying to sneak out of the bed without saying anything, keeping his back to the two of you while he toes his underwear over to himself.

Eddie waits for some kind for acknowledgement but when it doesn’t come he clears his throat lightly. “Hey.”

“Hey.” He says it like he’s surprised that you and Eddie are still there. “I’m gonna get out of your hair…I gotta make sure no one set anything on fire and like, find Rob…” He looks around for his pants and won’t meet Eddie’s eyes.

“I’m just going to get water, you don’t have to leave. It’s your room anyways.”

“Well I’m not kicking you guys out.���

“Steve.” You don’t mean to admonish him but that’s what happens. With the sheet tucked up around your chest you pull on the slack to show the other side of the bed. “Get back in here.”

He doesn’t move, just sighs deeply and reaches for his cigarettes.

“I’m serious.”

Eddie watches you point at the empty spot with some finality and he almost tells Steve it’s in his best interest to listen to you.

“I just—“

“It’s cold. I’m cold. Get back in the bed.” You slap the pillow. “Please.”

Steve does look at Eddie then with concern and all Eddie can do is chuckle. “I’d get back in there unless you like spit in your iced lattes for the next however long.” He leaves for the promised water and Steve sits on the edge of the bed and acts like you’re making him go to the dentist.

“Hey, if you want to leave you can, I was trying to be funny.”

“I didn’t want to intrude.” Steve sighs and throws himself back onto the pillow. “You guys were having a moment.”

You pull a confused face. “Do I need to remind you what we were just doing?”

“No.” Steve laughs.

“Because I can’t give you graphic detail but I can tell you that I got pretzeled up pretty good.” You reach over to rub a hand over his chest, running your fingers through the dark curls. Eddie sneaks back in and you notice the music isn’t at the level it was when you came in here.

Around the blinds is a light blue border bleeding in and you would really like to bury your head under the covers and keep petting Steve. Eddie makes you drink water though before anyone can get comfortable, even bullies Steve into finishing his. Eddie does his normal and climbs into bed to immediately lay half on your back, his arm flung over to mess with Steve until he relents and tilts his head over so Eddie can twirl a strand around.

Tucked between the two of them you’re almost asleep when you remember something from the heat of it all and you shake with silent laughter.

“What?” Eddie asks and Steve gives you a half awake eyebrow raise.

“You know he’s a tiefling right?”

That wakes Steve up a little. “What?”

“Yeah, his tiefling bard. You called him a demon earlier and it made me laugh.”

Steve sighs and ignores your sleep talk and you try to expound but the heavy, comforting weight of Eddie and Steve’s warm chest under your palm cut you off before you even realize you’ve fallen asleep.

[bigfatbimbo]

Scenarios/headcanons about how Brett Hand feels safe with her!

-🌌

Stay With Me, I Don’t Want You to Leave ⭑.ᐟ

a/n — Sometimes I don’t proofread my fics because the thought of reading my own writing back makes me want to die! WHY’S IT ALWAYS SOUND SO BAD??

warnings — Just fluff, like one sex joke, gender neutral reader, hurt/comfort.

summary — Scenarios/headcanons about how Brett Hand feels safe with you

⭑.ᐟ Brett is already desperate for everyone else’s validation, so this would definitely be enhanced with his significant other.

⭑.ᐟ He would live to please you, so you need to be able to keep it real with him. Ground him, while still showing him love.

⭑.ᐟ He has so much crippling self doubt, daily affirmations from you would be very helpful.

⭑.ᐟ Telling him how cute he looks while you straighten his tie in the morning, and at the end of the day always finding something to compliment him about.

“I think you handled that situation earlier really well, by the way,” You looked out the car window. Brett seemed especially anxious, judging from the natural frown on his face and his deadly grip on the steering wheel. “Really?” He asked.

“Yeah, I never know what to do when Reagan looses one of her science-y tools. Girls already uptight, but when she can’t get her work done. Woof—” Your tone was light, he always felt more comfortable that way.

He smiled, looking up, “Yeah, she really hates inconveniences. That’s why I always carry an extra crowbar on my person — it is very uncomfortable under a suit jacket!”

“Well, that’s really considerate, baby.” His grip finally loosened, shoulders resting. “Thanks,” his smile was soft.

⭑.ᐟ You giving your full attention to him any time would also make him feel very safe and loved.

⭑.ᐟ People obviously acknowledge him, but when your attention is payed in full it makes him feel so appreciated. (Also given his childhood).

⭑.ᐟ Having an understanding of his body language is also very important, because if he’s upset chances are we won’t tell because he doesn’t wanna ruin your mood.

⭑.ᐟ So if his acting off, take his hand in yours, caress his knuckles, and subtly ask about what would help.

Ex. “Do you need anything?” “We don’t have to do anything later. I think there’s a Friends marathon on later, how’s that sound?”

Watch him kinda loosen up and look at you with such appreciation. “Yeah, yeah. That sounds good,” he’s almost sigh with relief.

⭑.ᐟ He doesn’t feel like anything is expected of him in your relationship, he can just exist and be himself without having to put on a show.

( I could see him talking to Reagan about you, “They actually like watching old 80s movies with me— Have you ever met anyone willing to sit through a Van Dam movie? I only know two people: me and them! MAN, those movies suck.

“And the sex - its great! For like 15 years, I thought my only kink was fufilling other peoples kinks, turns out there’s SO much more to me, Reagan!” )

⭑.ᐟ Brett really feels seen around you, like you actually make him feel cared about. And that is such a big part in his feeling safe with you.

a/n — btw, Reagan fic coming hopefully tonight. After that I wanna do something with Gigi, peg Brett, and then probably a Stanley Pines fic?

[ahgasegotarmy116]

Feral | JJK One Shot

Summary: Jungkook comes back from his Global Citizen Festival and tells you something funny that happened to him. Pairing: Jungkook x f!Reader | Established Relationship, idol!au Word Count: 2.5k~ Warnings: Explicit language and mature themes, mentions of bdsm, sub space and pet play A/N: Hey guys this is my first One Shot that I've uploaded to Tumblr and I'm scared but excited to see what you think. My asks and DMs are open if you have any feedback or just wanna say hi! A big thank you to @trina864 for helping me and encouraging me to start posting on here. Hopefully I'll be coming back with more fics very soon! P.s. Horribly edited so please excuse any errors

"Did you get to watch my performance tonight?" Jungkook asks, bright eyed and bushy tailed walking into our hotel room. I look at him with a pained expression "I'm sorry baby I really wanted to but I had an early morning meeting to talk about this big case we've been working on" I explain apologetically. "Oh" he deflates, sad that I wasn't watching. "That's okay, I know how hard you've been working lately, I understand" he says nodding his head, coming over to the bed to sit next to me and see what I'm working on. He acknowledges all the sleepless nights I've been having, and no matter how much he tries to get me to come to bed, I never listen. Most early mornings he finds me sleeping on my desk having passed out from exhaustion and he picks me up and brings me to bed to get at least a few comfortable hours of rest. 

"You wanna know something funny that happened today?" he says with a toothy grin. I hum in acknowledgement and close my laptop taking a break to give him my full undivided attention. "After one of my songs today I took my inner ear out because I could hear Army chanting something and I wanted to try to understand but I couldn't. So I asked them to do it a bit louder and I guess they were barking at me. Like 'woof woof woof woof'. It happened to me before when I was on Good Morning America and I wasn't really sure what it meant but it looked like they were having fun so I think that would mean it's a good thing right?" he says with an amused expression. "Yes Jungkook it's a good thing" I say giggling at his confusion. "So what does that mean when they bark at me?" he says looking at me and tilting his head at me just like Bam does to him. 

I take a few seconds to think about it but for the life of me I can't really seem to put it into words without making it even more confusing for myself. "Um, well I guess the basic thing that it means if they think you're really hot, like beyond hot" I start. "So sexy?" he says encouraging me to continue. "Yeah pretty much and have you ever really heard the expression of 'going wild' over something?" I ask. "Yeah?" he says dragging it out starting to understand the action a little bit more but still showing some confusion. "Well it's pretty much based on that among other things. Another thing people say is 'going feral' with is like beyond going crazy like when dogs are like foaming at the mouth" I say brining up an extreme example trying to help him get the picture. "You mean like when they have rabies?" he says now thoroughly amused. "I mean kinda but not really" I say tilting my head from from side to side a few times.

"One more thing I could think to link it to would be something a little on... well a little on the explicit side" I say cringing at having to explain this one. "Explicit? Army? Noooo!" he says laughing knowing damn well he has been showing a more explicit side of himself lately, amused that Army is following suit. "You're familiar with some basic concepts of bdsm right?" I say feeling a bit awkward bringing it up. "Well... yeah we've kind dabbled in it a little bit right?" he says with a smirk and poking my side" I flinch a bit at it and laugh nervously "Yeah but anyways, have you heard about pet play?" I ask hoping that I won't have to explain it too much. He tilts his his head up towards the ceiling in thought trying to remember if he's heard anything about it but comes up empty handed. "Mmm can't say that I have" he says and waits expectantly for my continued explanation. 

"Basically it kind of links to a degradation kink, you know when a person gets aroused by getting humiliated. You know, stuff like that" he nods his head showing me he's trying to follow. "So they are saying, well not all of them but I'm sure some of them are thinking this. But they are saying that they want you to degrade them and put a leash on them and treat them like they’re your pet and you can do as you please with them" I say cringing at the fact that I have to have to have this sort of conversation to begin with. "Uh huh" he says feeling slightly uncomfortable but still rather amused. "I mean you're hot so I'm not surprised that people are ready to submit to you like that. "Like you do" he says now dropping his voice an octave, making me shudder. "We're not talking about me right now" I say laughing it off, getting off the bed and putting some distance between us. Jungkook swings his legs over the edge of the bed and stares at me with a hunger in his eyes that had not been there moments ago. 

"Well why not? We're already on the subject, why not continue?" he says leaning his arms back on the bed and spreading his legs. "Because we're talking about your fans, you know Army?" I say continuing to back away from him until I hit a wall. "I don't want to talk about Army anymore, I spent some time with them today so now I want to spend some time with you" he says purposely toying with me, pushing all the right buttons. I let out a slight whimper not knowing how else to respond. "It's been a while since we tried something new hasn't it?" he says sitting up a bit. "Would you like to be my pet? Let me do whatever I want with you? I already know you like it when I call you names. What has been your favorite one recently? Slut? Whore? Bitch?" I whimper again while squeezing my thighs together. "Ah that's right, how fitting, would you like it if I put a leash on you, and let everyone see what a dirty little bitch you are for me? Make you crawl to me? I might even make you drink out of a bowl like the pretty little bitch you are. But wait that might be something you would enjoy. Would you like that pup?" he says waiting for my answer. 

I start to respond but he holds his hand up cutting me off. "Aww look at that, my dumb pup forgot that dogs don't talk. Now try again love, bark once for yes and twice for no" I squirm in place not sure exactly how to respond since the thought of it does intrigue me and I can't lie when I say that I can feel myself getting wet. He raises his brow at me waiting for me to respond and I finally decide to let out one little bark under my breath while hanging my head in shame. "I'm sorry pup what was that? I couldn't quite hear you?" I let out another bark in response now feeling my cheeks starting to heat up. "One more time for me, just a little bit louder. Do you want to be my dumb little pup? My bitch? Poor baby has made up her mind but is too embarrassed to bark. Come on, just a little louder. "Woof" I finally respond loud and clear this time, hoping he won't make me do it again. 

"Aw there we go. Looks like you aren't the dumb little bitch I thought you were. Puppy was just too shy to admit she wants me to play with her". I breathe out hoping he'll stop there but he decides to continue. "On all fours, now" he orders. This I can do, and I've done it multiple times without question when he has me in this sub space that I've been tipped over in. "Good girl" he says with a tone of voice he reserves for when he talks to Bam. For not knowing what this is he seems like quite the natural. "Baby come" he says ordering me to come to his side. I wince at the thought of me crawling over to him and he notices my hesitance, "Aw looks like my dumb little bitch still needs training. Puppy come here" he says in a more playful tone. I decide to surrender this time and crawl over to him and see his eyes rake over my body with a expression that I have never seen before but it makes me feel nervous but sexy. Once I sit in front of him I see him play with his lip rings and then rest on biting his lip for a second just gazing down on me. 

"You did so well love" he says cupping my face in his hand and rubbing his thumb over the apple of my cheek praising me for all that I've done. "You can come out if you want to" he says gently, coaxing me out of my sub space. I blink a few times and reach up to place my hand on top of his and he gives me soft smile, "There she is" he says and he looks down at me lovingly, "Looks like you really enjoyed that" he says helping me stand up. "You're one to talk" I say rubbing my aching knees that I only now just noticed. "Speaking of which you seemed like you're quite a natural for someone who isn't familiar with pet play" I say suspiciously. "Yeah about that..." he says trailing off. "Jeon Jungkook did you lie to me?" I say feeling utterly betrayed. "I'm sorry but you just looked super shy I just had to watch you explain it to me" he says pulling me onto his lap. I burry my face in the crook of his neck to hide my reddening face. 

"You're so mean"I mumble, "Aw come on you know I love you, plus look at you, you're my adorable little pup who listened so well" he says rubbing my back. I sit up and look at him, "But I thought I was your bitch" I say with a roll of my eyes. "That too, but you're my cute puppy first and foremost" he says ruffling my hair. "Hey! Don't do that!" I whine fixing it, "We're not playing like that anymore". "Alright alright, I'll stop. We can pick this up later" he says giving me a quick kiss on my cheek and placing me on the bed walking over to his bag on the floor. "Huh" I scoff, "What makes you think I wanna do that again?" I say crossing my arms over my chest. "Do I really need to see how much of a mess you've made down there right now?" my eyes widen at his words and I cross my legs in response. "Exactly" he laughs pulling out his laptop and his phone, walking over to the small couch in the corner. 

"What are you doing?" I ask curiously watching him prop up his phone. "I'm gonna go on live for a bit to check up on Army to see their reaction, especially since I dropped the teaser for 3D" he says with a smile. "You dropped it at the festival? Wow I can imagine the screams, especially after seeing their reaction to the proof teaser at your last concert in the US" I say shaking my head and smiling at the thought. "Yeah I'm even more excited to release it now!" he says feeling proud of himself. "You and Jack worked really hard on it so I'm sure they're gonna love it. Let's be real, if you just recoded a whole three minutes worth of you just breathing everyone would go crazy over it. That's basically what Hobi did in Jack in the Box right?" I finish laughing. He let's out a chuckle in response, "Yeah you're right, I'm sure it's gonna be great! Are you gonna go shower?" He asks watching me grab some stuff out of my bag. "Yeah I definitely need one, my back is killing me after having to sit in front of my computer all night. 

"Okay wait for me and I'll join you in a bit yeah?" he says with a sly smile. "You better hurry up then mister, I'm not taking a three hour shower because you're still on live" I say remembering the nights he would stay up talking to and spending time with Army. "Okay just give me like 15 minutes" he begs. I laugh and start to walk over to the bathroom but he calls out to me. "Wait!" I turn around at the sound of him, "Can I have a kiss?" he says with a pout, to which I can't help but agree to. I give him a kiss and he deepens it and he promises between kisses that he'll give me a massage to entice me into really waiting for him. I nod my head and roll my eyes and turn to walk to bathroom to which he responds with a loud slap on my ass. "Hey!" I yell back scolding him, but he puts up his finger to his lips as he presses the button to go live telling me to stay quiet. I huff silently and close the door behind me and start the shower and hear him make excuses for the noise.

"Oh I think it's just the sound of someone taking a shower next door. Yeah it's loud huh? I guess the walls are pretty thin here. Oh! Jin! Jin Hyung!" I hear him continue, sounding excited at what I could only think is the sight of Jin commenting on the live. Smiling I get into the shower and let the warm water wash away all the stress from the day until I hear a slight jiggle of the door nob. "Ya! Woman open the door!" I laugh at his pleading and leave him there complaining for a while before letting him in. "Oops" I say "I guess I forgot" I finish, feigning innocence. "Uh huh, you forgot" he says rolling his eyes at me and giving me another slap on the ass. "Just get back in the shower" he says and I give him a kiss before doing just that. 'Tonight is gonna be a long night' I think to myself as I bite my lip standing under the stream of water, waiting for him to join me.

Join my Taglist!

[allwaswell16]

All the One Direction fics I read and enjoyed in November 2022. You can listen to my podcast to hear me talk about each of these fics (yes I talked about every single one of those trick or treat fest fics lol) as well as an overview of what was posted on ao3 including the fics on this month’s fic roundup which you can find here! Please let the writers know if you liked the fics by leaving kudos and comments! Happy reading!

-Larry-

These High Walls by LarryAlways28

(E, 68k, a/b/o) So... when the older, and wildly attractive Harry Styles offers him a deal in exchange for saving his family's legacy- how could Louis ever refuse that?

All Out of Love by SunTomato / @sun-tomato

(G, 32k, cupid au) While on a mission to match Liam and Zayn, the distraction comes in the shape of Louis Tomlinson – an overworked and underloved man trying way too hard to do everything himself.

Where the World has Come Together by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup

(M, 26k, fantasy au) For the crime of elven blood running through his veins, Louis Tomlinson spends his days protecting the human kingdom he’s been cast out of. Forcibly tied by magic to the very walls that encircle the city, he and the other guards do what they can to find some semblance of a life.

I Know You Rider (Gonna Miss Me When I'm Gone) by @cyantific

(T, 9k, 90s au) The one where Louis hates hippies and roller coasters and Harry tries to fix that with lots of fun facts, terrible puns and perhaps one very life-changing moment in a dark tunnel.

kill my mind by StarryDay13 / @daydreaming-sunflower

(T, 2k, uni au, ficlet as part of series) Kind of a "the extroverted friend adopts the introverted one" scenario except they are in love.

dont let it break your heart by StarryDay13 / @daydreaming-sunflower

(T, 2k, emotional hurt/comfort, ficlet as part of series) Louis is a flirty bartender, and Harry just got dumped.

-Rare Pairs-

enough to make a girl blush by @disgruntledkittenface

(E, 22k, Louis/Niall) When Louis moves from her small hometown to the city, she runs into her childhood friend Niall. Despite her surprise at learning that Niall presented as an alpha, she’s immediately drawn to her. 

over my shoulder by @nouies

(E, 10k, Louis/Sebastian Stan) The media thinks omega singer Louis Tomlinson is dating alpha actor Sebastian Stan because they bump into each other all the time.

Not Sure How To Say This Right by @wabadabadaba

(M, 7k, Louis/Florence Pugh) Louis had resigned herself to be Florence's best friend and watch from the sidelines as Florence gave her all to someone who didn't appreciate her. That was until she came home to Florence in her kitchen with a new hair cut, brownies and newly single.

As long as you're not afraid to feel by wordsnnotes / @quelsentiment

(T, 5k, Louis/Liam) Liam can’t help sounding a bit suspicious as he replies, “You want to co-host Phantom Tales? Do you even believe in ghosts?”

With This Wing, I Thee Wed by LadyAJ_13 / @ladyaj-13

(T, 4k, Louis/Niall) “Nando’s?” Niall crosses his arms and pouts, a little line appearing between his eyebrows. “I want Nandos. I like Nandos.” “And I like my dignity,” Louis mutters.

Next Door by @allwaswell16

(NR, 2k, Louis/Rob Pattinson) When a stray cat starts coming round Louis' garden and bothering his dog, Louis and his best friend set out to capture it.

-Trick or Treat Fest-

(all 666 words)

Accidental Love by Laziam (MItCheLlInE) / @guilty1dlove

An Apple A Day by @lululawrence

Bloody Squid by rainblou / @loubbies

fallin' all in (love with) you by eynap / @panye

Foreshadowing by @neondiamond

Ghost Ship by cherrylarry | @beelou

head all full of stuffin' by Lhhome | @lhhomefics

Holy Guacamole! by bluegreenish | @greenblueish

Hot Pumpkin Guy by downcamethelightning | @sxvedbyastranger

i've been looking for the missing piece by @dragmedown

Meet-Woof by @littleroverlouis

Needle by @nouies

Scare me, baby by TeamLouis / @teamlouis2022

Spellbound by yourlionheartx / @djtommotomlinson

Swallowpeen by yeah_alright / @uhoh-but-yeah-alright

Sweet Talk by wordsnnotes / @quelsentiment

the ghost of love keeps haunting me by we_are_the_same / @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed

The Rescue by @haztobegood

there’s a house in english bond (somebody planned to stay) by safetyfilm / @larrieblr

What’s cookin’, goodlookin’? by 4ureyesonly28 / @evilovesyou

Who wants to snog a ghost? by @fallingdefenceless

You Really Should Keep Driving by @homosociallyyours

[hekateinhell]

20 Questions for Fic Writers! ✨

tagged by @monstersinthecosmos thanks babe! ♥️

1. How many works do you have on A03? 32 public, 2 anon, 1 orphaned (that I regret, don't do it!)

2. What’s your total A03 word count? 125,475!

3. What fandoms do you write for? Vampire Chronicles!

4. What are your top five fics by kudos? Shake The Disease, Our House, The Hand That Feeds, Play The King

5. Do you respond to comments? YES. I used to be so good at replying right away and now it's more like 2-3 times a year where I'll sit down and do them in bulk. Part of is I feel really nervous and EXPOSED when I post something and I kind of feel shy, and part of is I want to make sure I'm taking the time to reply thoughtfully because I want to put as much energy into my response as I'm getting from all your lovely, thoughtful comments! 💖 But I appreciate every single one—comments keep me going! I like to say "write for yourself" and I stand by that LOL I do write for myself first and foremost, but I share because I crave the feeling of being part of the community!

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Make An Exception lmao. It's a short lil' canon divergent thing but it's basically Armand cashing in a favor with Lestat and asking him to "take care" of Daniel the way Armand once "took care" of Nicki. Either that or A Rusted Essence actually, I can't decide! I think the first one is angstier and the second one is more hopeless.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Any of my PWPs?

8. Do you get hate on fics? In the beginning I would get a couple hate comments here and there because the only fics I wrote at the time were L/A and I guess that bothered people! Lol it was a different vibe back then (only two years ago but it was weird, I'm so glad that's a thing of the past woof!). Oh, and I really pissed off a couple puritians making Lestat fifteen years old in my mermaid fic. 🫣

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? 9/10 times my fics will be smut! I've written both guy-on-guy and girl-on-girl smut, and I find there's differences to each outside of... you know LOL the obvious! I always try to focus on the psychology behind the kinks and how things build and escalate throughout the narrative. It's much more important to me why they're doing what they're doing and how they connect through doing that, but if I can push the envelope of depravity just a bit too then I'm very happy!

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? Nope, no crossovers.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not a full fic.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Not yet!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? No! I think I would like to one day but it would very much depend on the person and the story.

14. What’s your all time favorite ship? Lestat/Armand! But I very much love Armand/Louis and Armand/Daniel too, and of course poly combos are always fun and I do write and read a decent mix of all the above!

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? One of the anon fics. I think iykyk. Sorry, guys.

16. What are your writing strengths? I get the most compliments on my characterization, dialogue, and smut!

17. What are your writing weaknesses? I'm also trying to get better with drawing out my fics and creating a sense of slow burn, but I have no patience and I just have to get into the smut or at least reference it somewhere within the first 2k. So I'll work on that. One day. And I can't wait to write a proper 50k EVENTUALLY. Oh, and pacing! I feel like I really struggle with pacing.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? Lord help me, I do this when I write from Lestat's POV, which I do often. Usually it's just endearments or a phrase but... yeah. Absolutely this is not how bilingual people talk lmao but when it's vampire fic specifically I think it's just corny enough to be Ricey, if you get my drift!

19. First fandom you wrote for? VC! My two year ficiversary was in March! 

20. Favourite fic you’ve written? I'm so bad at this question because I've noticed it tends to be the latest big thing I've been working on! So right now that's Drop Dead Gorgeous, a genderswapped L/A human AU! It's the first thing I wrote since I've been exploring my sexuality and it was really interesting from a creative perspective to get into the headspace of a woman obsessively attracted to another woman, and honestly it didn't take a lot for me to get there! It was super fun and horny and I really enjoyed writing it and I can't wait to start working on the next chapter!

tagging but no pressure! @rainbowcarousels @0junemeatcleaver0 @butchybats @aunteat @leslutdepointedulac @cinnamonclove @nothing-but-paisley ♥️

[speeedyquick1245]

Lie Low at Lupin’s Fic Recs

Yknow I feel like in the newer wolfstar fandom we don’t really see anymore “Lie Low at Lupin’s” fics or fics that portray older versions of Sirius and Remus as a couple. Shame those tended to be very beautifully well written and great at capturing both Sirius and Remus’s characters. It is one of my favorite tropes so here are some fic recs! 

Leave the Children Behind by montparnasse

I will never be able to forget about reading this fic for the first time. The author has an amazing way with words. 50k words of pure art. Like how does one write this? 

“ This is the true price of loving someone. They whisper to you across a cold, sunless sea. Their absence festers like famine; your blood refuses to forget its history. Spend twelve or thirteen years trying to scrub them from your heart and they flood you all over in a sudden torrent, breaking every dam you’ve built. They curl up inside and become a part of you; they become your morning coffee, they become maddening habits you’ll never break. ” 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/3895552

we'll not get anywhere, but we'll go on by  lupinely

Angst that hurts so good. 

“Sirius had shown up yesterday evening. Truly unfortunate timing, only a few hours before the full moon rose and Remus retreated to the basement. “Dumbledore told me to find you,” is all Sirius had said, and Remus had stared at him and stared at his feet and stared at the door.“

https://archiveofourown.org/works/4175322

but as for me i've waited (longer than i've been clear) by  comosum 

Just as he was about to close the door, there was a very distinctive woof that came from about knee height.

Remus looked down at the shaggy black dog, and imploring puppy dog eyes met tired brown ones.

“Oh,” Remus said out loud.

In which Sirius lies low at Lupin's and it is easy to fall back in love.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/20011504

Lol okay there's more that I’ve read but unfortunately I am terrible at book marking fics I love and instead keep a gazillion tabs open all the time. And I had to completely reset my phone cause of issues so those tabs are lost. :( But yeah enjoy the fic recs for now. I’ll maybe make a follow up post later. 

[sunshinedobi]

ao3 tag game

tagged by the illustrious @incandescentflower!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

13!

2. What is your AO3 wordcount?

137,997 (woof that's a lot)

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Mostly Bad Buddy, but who knows what else I'll right for in the future?

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

worth the wait

something borrowed & something new

sleepless in bangkok

something blue (oh this one surprised me!)

heart in a cage

5. Do you respond to comments?

I did in the beginning, and then I got overwhelmed and haven't replied in about a year ;~;

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Not ended yet, but I wrote a MCD fic (yeah I don't know why either).

Here it is: the season of you.

7. What is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

All of my fics (except the above MCD fic) have happy endings. I think "something borrowed" is the most cringey-cute one though?

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I haven't gotten full on hate before, but I'm more the type to get angry rather than demoralized LOL. So knowing myself, I'd snap back at them even if that's pointless...or private everything so no one could read my works anymore. Yes, yes, I know, I'm hot headed.

9. Do you write smut? If so, which kind?

I wrote smut once (1 time) for "heart in a cage." I lost 100 life points...

It was sapphic and pining and ooey gooey and I suffered writing it LOL.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest crossover you’ve ever written?

Nope.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

No, but I'd LOSE MY SHIT if someone wanted to.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No. Someone asked to collab with me on a fic idea I posted randomly, but I declined because I find writing really personal.

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

I don't have a favorite!

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

None! Everything will be finished eventually, even if I take years to do it. I don't start fics that I don't have an ending in mind for.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I'm not entirely sure, tbh!

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I find my writing clunky sometimes? And repetitive. Complicated sequences or plots are hard for me.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I'm not sure I need an opinion on this? Lol.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

...Naruto, but I burned all the evidence.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

It would be a knife fight between "heart in a cage" and "sleepless in bangkok." I've said this before, but HIAC is my love letter to Pran. SIB is my love letter to Pat. :)

tagging @hereforlou @pran-so-brave @bbshyperfixation! (no pressure to complete the tag ofc!)

[brain-amoeba]

i requested the sniper thing and YES YEAH BARK BARK WOOF WOOF make that into a fic if you feel up to it!!!!!!!!

FUCK YEAH ILY SNIPER ANON

*cracks knuckles*

your wish is my command xP and since this is gonna be my first multipart work (and actual full blown fic posted to this page--) im gonna just use this to throw my ideas out there and at least give the name:

the fic is named In The Hot Seat and will be 9 chapters long, with each chapter being dedicated to each merc individually (though, if there's some demand for it, i may do some multi-chara stuff either with this fic or just in the future....)

the themes will be darker, but maybe not necessarily yandere? maybe some yandere elements, but more so just playing on the darker nature of the mercs, their personalities, and of course, their occupations. there for sure will be NSFW, whether implied or explicitly written. i dont necessarily plan to have multipart chapters BUTTT if it gets spicy enough it may happen... so far this is all the brainstorming i have with this fic, so ill leave the floor open to discussion and encourage you guys to interact with me more and send more asks/replies with stuff you wanna see or your ideas!!! talking to yall is my favorite part of the day :3

[atinylittlepain]

I finished Deliver Me from Nowhere immediately after you posted the final chapter. I flew through it, furiously, needing to read the ending before I could take everything in. But even as I did I captured so many lines and passages in my head. The final chapter was absolutely stunning. I don’t mean this as any offense to writers on tumblr or fan fics but when I read your work it feels so much bigger, so much more real, profound, beautiful than this platform gets credit for. Or you, really. Your work reads like short stories I read in The New Yorker. It deserves so much more than this.

These words struck something in me…

“This isn’t want, after all. Want isn’t big enough for whatever this is. Something deeper, something threaded in with all the sinew and stretch of bone, ligament, and beating tissue. This is need. Vital and visceral, and so very precarious.”

“Want is a child. But need is an animal. Need is base, bruising, battering. There is no escaping need. There is no lying about need. There is only offering it up, and hoping that someone will see it and decide yes, animal, come here, let me do something about your need, and you can do something about mine.”

“For now, the feeling of her ribs expanding and contracting against his side is all the goodness he could want, or even need. Pain yet to be understood in all the places that her breath catches. But for now, she is looking at him and smiling, and saying something about the sheep that makes him laugh.”

But this. THIS:

“In the kitchen, he would feed her his heart if he could. It’s hers anyways.”

This is everything ^^

- Please don’t ever stop writing. Ever. ❤️

Hi, so, yeah, ive been holding onto this message for two weeks now :')

i fucking love the passages you picked out because they were ones that felt important to me too - really essential viscera of this story

im gonna be so honest for a moment, just between you and me (and the rest of tumbles lol) but i've been seriously questioning my place here on tumbles - full disclosure, i started out here back in january (woof, almost a year ago) in the mindset that what i was writing didn't count as writing for me bc i was writing for the sole purpose of turning out work i thought people would like on here - and they did, and i did that for a long time, got a lot of notes on pretty vapid work etc etc, and even though i wasn't thinking about it as writing, it was a sort of stretching and contracting of musculature that eventually changed and evolved into me writing what i wanted to write.

i think june was the first departure from the canned fics i had been producing to something a little more my style, and a little less desirable to the masses of tumblr lol

the notes got fewer and fewer, but the readership ive had for works like june and deliver me (and even my cannibals, hi, freaks love ya lmao) is so close and lovely and that's been far more rewarding - getting messages from folks that this work has somehow touched them or made them feel seen or just loosened some essential emotion in them enough that they can process it and let it move through them - i love that, and writing these fics has done much the same for me - and (not but, and) and im also having growing pains

i keep coming back to fic bc it's safe and comfortable and i use it as a crutch - stakes are lower when you aren't thinking about querying or publishing or "good enough" - but, again, being honest, the fic thing doesn't feel good any more - it feels like what it is, me trying to fit something that doesn't fit any more, trying to cramp myself into something and expect people to like it when it's simply not what they come to tumblr for

ive been fighting myself on this for a while, slowly inching my way out of fic and into the reality that i want my work to go elsewhere and trying to believe that i have the chops to make that happen - your message is such a buoy and encouragement toward that future

let me make something very clear here, this is my experience, i am by no means shitting on fic writing in general at allllll - people are doing amazing shit on here, no doubt, this is just where i'm at personally with it - ive said it before and ill say it again - writing begets writing, and without all the fic i wrote this year, i know for a veritable fact i would've never gotten my first novel this year either - but i think it's time for a shift for me

all this is to say that i think an era is ending, but i'm so grateful i got it to begin with to have had the chance to share work with folks like you. maybe you'll see me in the new yorker one day :)

[theharrowing]

Revisit Thoughts:

more lore! more lore! more lore!

like...................finally, some of the answers we have been waiting for, spelled out as plain as day. and some more of Yoongi's tragic backstory. big big oof.

let's get into it!

this chapter note is so real:

this chapter is a mess. whew! you may get frustrated with how i decide mc feels throughout this one, but she's my character, and i want her to be a little broken. 

like................................man, after dealing with readers hating my Boy Blue mc, i became very protective of this one. there seems to be this strange need for reader characters to be strong always and perfect and super emotionally intelligent about all situations and omnisciently wise, i just cannot stress enough how much that is not how i present my characters. they are flawed as fuck and sometimes they are learning and growing and doing their best, but sometimes they just get worse.

anyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyywayyyyyyyyyy hehe enough of that tangent.

omg foreshadowing in paragraph THREE LMAOOOO. woof. i was really like "here we are kids, no sugarcoating this shit HAVE FUN!!!"

(how do we feel after learning about Jimin and the bees? and Yoongi's parents? and how deep all of this goes???)

this is absolutely going to be tmi, but the "show me how his highness fucks you" bit came from a dream i once had (?!?!?!!?!?) basically...........i was fully clothed, straddling a very naked man whose name rhymes with hamboon and he kept saying "show me how oppa (?!?!?!?) fucks you" referring to someone whose name rhymes with boongi and i literally woke up in that moment like UMMMMM WHAT THE FUCK. so yeah. uhhhhhhhh hahahaha 😅😅😅 thanks brain for helping me write Collateral. (i feel like this might seem creepy to confess but tbh my dreams are extremely vivid and include all number of people whose content i ingest daily, not just them. usually they are more nightmarish and less sexy. see: the hooksborough demon, which is a fic born of my fucked up dreams. also i have literally never genuinely called a Korean man oppa before...and, if anything, i'm his noona lmaooooo.)

ooohhhhhh i found what might be considered a teeeensy tiny inconsistency with a later chapter (18, to be exact.) i wonder if i will remember to bring it up when the time comes. i personally think it is fine, but it depends on interpretation, perhaps.

even tho i am aware at how well i weave together certain pov scenes with the main fic, it is still nice to see glimpses of it. like here, with this little bit:

You tip your head and Yoongi stands, holding up a finger to excuse himself as he says, "Jiminah, I could never be mad at you. Tell me what is happening. What do you need?"

this chapter is so messy hahaha. i adore it very much.

ALSO THIS:

Instead, you let go of Yoongi's hands and sit back against the cold leather as your eyes trail around to the window. There is a voice at the back of your mind telling you that Yoongi is lying, that he could not possibly love you, that nobody could possibly love you. It nags and nags, threatening to tear your heart asunder and leave you to bleed out, pathetic and empty, for all the world to see.  But you know, deep down, that he means it. At least, to some small extent. Perhaps not the full-blown love that causes men to wage war and pen sonnets, but a smaller, gentler love that feels like sunshine breaking through the clouds on a cool autumn morning. That love, you can come to accept, you think. 

actually made me emotional. woof. i genuinely teared up at my own writing what the fuck.

this is the song Namjoon is humming when they return to the mansion. it's not on the playlist because i wasn't sure it really fit on there.

man. that smut scene is fun. i never really see mmf threesome scenes written out that include both men also having sex with each other, and have been trying to make that more of a thing here. there will be a good one in 21. (i'm sure there are others throughout later chapters but tbh smut scenes aren't the most memorable for me, when i think of the events of each of the chapters.)

i added Maddox's "But Maybe" to this chapter!!! thanks for reading along with meeee!!!

Collateral 🗡️ 11: Something you will have in abundance

Your ex-boyfriend gets in over his head working for the local mafia, and Boss Min has come to collect his payment: You.

But was it simply a matter of being in the wrong place at the wrong time? Or has he always had his sights on you?

PREVIOUS | INDEX | NEXT

🗡️ Yoongi x Female Reader x Namjoon 🗡️ word count: 13.9k 🗡️ mafia au, strangers to lovers, graphic violence, major character injury, poly, smut, angst, fluff, nsfw, explicit, 21+ 🗡️ warnings: difficult conversations and heavy feelings, threesome (oral sex, vaginal & anal sex, a train-like position? you’ll see.)

🗡️ note: this chapter is a mess. whew! you may get frustrated with how i decide mc feels throughout this one, but she’s my character, and i want her to be a little broken. 

🗡️ beta read by @neoneunnajimin​ 

🗡️ posted nov. 2022 | read on ao3

The restaurant Yoongi brings you and Namjoon to is a dinky sushi spot in some back alley downtown. You always enjoy these places the most—the unassuming-on-the-outside, amazing-on-the-inside restaurants that Yoongi seems to prefer. 

The three of you are led to a private room, and before you have a chance to sit on the thick, red velvet cushions which line the back wall, servers are coming to fill glasses with rice wine and water, and inform you that dinner will be ready shortly. Yoongi must have called ahead. The servers exit, and anxiety settles in.

There is probably no need to feel nervous since it makes sense that Yoongi would already know everything about your past. But what if he was directly involved in what happened to you back then? What if Yoongi’s family was in charge of the honey bees who sent you to kill Seungri? You are not sure you can handle the ramifications of everything being a setup from the start, knowing just how little control you have had this entire time. 

You have also compartmentalized the entire event to the extent that telling truth from fabrication is difficult, and you are unsure how much of the dream you can actually trust. It has been years since you dreamt so vividly about the penthouse, and you have not thought much about the honey bees or the queen in so long. 

Once the three of you are settled down and the serving staff leaves, Namjoon busies himself with putting slices of sashimi onto your and Yoongi’s bowls of rice and pushing side dishes in front of the two of you. It feels oddly domestic, being squished between the two of them while one of them dotes on you, but it helps calm your nerves. 

Keep reading

[whirlybirbs]

    ✪ ------ 1. OF ROBBERY, KIDNAPPING & MURDER.

summary: the van der linde gang aims to beat the o’driscolls to the punch in kidnapping the bride-to-be of a railroad magnate named waylon robbins. for miss turner, this is quickly becoming the worst day of her life... cue a botched kidnapping and symbolism abound. arthur called it, really. word count: 3.4k pairing: high honor!arthur morgan x female!reader, turner as a placeholder last-name. listen to: “kicks” by barn courtney a/n: i told you my one goal was to make you all fall in love with with arthur, so uhhhhhhh buckle the fuck up folks

“Kidnapping...?”

It sounds so damn simple when said aloud.

... All of Dutch van der Linde’s plans usually do.

Arthur Morgan, though, a man built on loyalty and fiercely so, would never openly admit he hates how easily the aging leader of the Van Der Linde gang can string him and the others along with the promise of success and cash. Swindling -- it’s like second nature to Dutch; he’s slippery and well-spoken and charming and cunning more than anything else in this world.

He’ll be a snake in the next life, Hosea used to say with wisdom and wit, Just you see.

There’s something respectable about it, though -- Arthur is aware he himself is far too easy to read to be some gallivanting gang leader destined to bring his people promises of fortune and health and all things good. He’s always been like that. His intentions show on his face. In moments like these, Arthur needs not to say a thing. Instead, his hesitation shines through in a scowl, his disposition morphed into something unimpressed and skeptical.

Hosea can’t help but hide a smile into his cup of coffee. The boy he’d nearly nursed is a man now -- through and through -- but still holds a youthful sort of ruggedness to him at times. Arthur is pouting. Plainly put.

“Kidnapping,” Arthur says again, sounding it out and not liking the taste it leaves in his mouth, “I dunno, Dutch...”

“Mr. Morgan,” it’s Karen who speaks then, looming over Arthur’s shoulder and pointing out the skepticism in question, “All I’ve been hearin’ is chatter about the O’Driscolls --”

Her voice is eager. Ever an excitable woman.

“And wouldn’t it be nice to beat Colm to the punch?” cracks Micah, as if he’s some kind of puppet for Dutch.

Kiss ass.

The rickety wooden table in the center of van der Linde’s camp has gathered nearly everyone -- save for Abigail and little Jack -- and Arthur is suddenly very aware of the eyes glued to him.

The outlaw crosses his arms, pushing a hand along his jaw. A low rumble works itself from his throat.

“So, what? We kidnap some girl for money,” Arthur drawls on, sounding out the plan, “Ransom her off, expectin’ th’ law, who, mind you is still diggin’ through the hills of West Elizabeth lookin’ for us, to ignore it? We’re still getting our footing here an’ --”

“And cash would help,” says Dutch, “I understand your hesitation, my friend, but --”

“But, Arthur has a point,” Hosea, ever the voice of reason, musters, “This is going to garner attention.”

“Who is this lady anyway?”

It’s Mary-Beth who steps up, now, hands clasped tightly around her journal. “She’s the daughter of a lawyer from Point Pleasant, a town out West. Turner is the family name -- rumors been spreadin’ like wildfire that she’s due to marry some railroad magnate named Waylon Robbins.”

“Right,” Arthur scoffs with a bitterness everyone knows well, “A friend a’ Leviticus Cornwall, no doubt.”

“Brother-in-law, actually.”

“Yer kiddin’.”

“Not at all,” Mary-Beth insists, “Meaning there’s a lot of money here, Mr. Morgan, and that is why the O’Driscolls want to make the first move.”

“How’d y’ hear about this again?” Arthur leans back in his chair, knuckles drumming on the table before he waves and bites in with a questioning tone, “Can we confirm any of it?”

“Sure can,” John says, “Charles and I scouted out the area the girls heard them talkin’ about -- the O’Driscolls have set up camp there, no doubt ready to choke the carriages off when they hit the pass.”

Arthur spares Charles a look. He trusts him more than Morstan. Charles nods. Clapping Arthur’s shoulder.

“This could be good, Arthur.”

“... Seems like y’all have all made yer minds up, then.”

“We just need our best man, Arthur.”

That’s a plea if he’s ever heard one. Dutch is leaned forward now, hands on the table and eyes set on his left-hand man. Hosea, to the right, is quiet, watching as the blonde outlaw exhales.

Then, he sips his coffee.

After a moment of silence and weighing the odds, Arthur Morgan shrugs.

“Kidnapping, then.”

A chorus of woops circles the table.

The ride is miserable.

That’s really the only way you can describe it -- I mean, there you are, sweating bullets across from your bitter mother and bitter father and your less-than-amused younger sister. Jenny, though, spares you a single look and, from your left, nudges your elbow and offers you her fan.

You gratefully accept it. You feel like you could throw up.

Fwip, fwip, fwip.

You’re weighed down by the intricate gown your mother had insisted upon for this morning’s failure of a breakfast -- your hair had been done up an intricate plaits, pinned with pearls and the promise of marriage. The corset around your waist is awfully tight, maybe too tight, and your find yourself wishing you could just rip the plooms of fabric around your shoulders off. The high neckline might paint you all sorts of sophistication, but right now, it just makes you want to scream.

What you’d give to be back home, back at your desk. A good book would take the edge off.

Cue another miserable pass of more silence.

The carriage rocks and you hold your breath, trying desperately to stop the whole world from spinning. You’re tied between tunnel vision and hurling when your mother catches your eye.

Fwip, fwip, fwip, a bit more furiously now.

“ -- You surely can’t be serious.”

“Of course I’m serious,” you bite back with a woozy look, “I won’t --”

“Enough.”

You father doesn’t even look at you.

Miserable. Absolutely miserable.

And that’s when the yelling starts.

Overhead, a hawk cries.

The sand dances with mirages in the valley.

The carriage, a deep plum and with windows blocked by plush curtains, rocks along.

From his spot on the grassy overlook, Arthur drops his binoculars back into his sacel and pushes himself up into a squat. He taps Charles shoulder, beckoning to John. The both blink up at him, squinting into the sun.

Christ, it’s hot.

“Tha’s our lucky carriage,” he says, “Both of you, on me. We’re gunna run ‘em West of th’ gorge, Dutch an’ Micah an’ Hosea will choke ‘em off on th’ other side of th’ pass. Don’t wanna get the attention of the O’Driscolls now.”

The mid-day sun is beating on Arthur’s back when he beats into the stirrups and kicks his stead into a sprint -- the formation is lead by the blonde outlaw, quick to wind through the mountain pass. Bandanas and sleeves are pulled up, faces masked under the black material and brim of hats.

It’s something mighty terrible -- they are, all of them, outlaws and criminals and wanted men in this moment -- the sight of the them, holstered up and with fire in their eyes, might be enough to scare off even the most daring of lawmen. Arthur, in the heat of moments like these, is proud to be in thick with the thieves.

This feeling? It’s unstoppable.

And so, in a storm of dust and vicious jeers, the van der Linde gang descends upon the Turner family’s carriage.

“What in the fresh hell --”

A bullet tears through the middle of the carriage.

In one side, out the other. Straight between you and your father.

Symbolism is one hell of a thing, isn’t it?

You and your sister blink at it.

The furious fwip, fwip, fwip-ing of your fan stops and suddenly, the carriage kicks forward in a panicked sprint. You yelp, gripping Jenny tight as your mother flies into your lap with a screech. As if the jarring movements of the carriage hadn’t already been horrid, now it’s worse -- the yell of the driver rattles through the cabin.

“We’ve got a problem, Mr. Turner!”

You move, peeling aside the velvet curtains -- up along the ridge are three men on horses, pounding into the sand; the sight, if it wasn’t so real, could be considered awesome like something out of a story-book. Your jaw falls slack. Their faces are hidden beneath bandanas, guns gripped tight in one hand and reigns in the other.

Highwaymen.

Their whoops echo off the canyon walls.

“You’ve got to be kidding.”

This is, officially, the worst day of your life.

Suddenly, your view is blocked by the dark side of a horse pulling up along the carriage -- you’re offered a single, humorous tip of a hat by the man in question, striking blue eyes pulled into a wildly devilish look. He spurs his horse on, moving to press himself up onto his saddle. His boots, polished jet-black with golden spurs, glint in the light.

And he jumps.

Arthur lands atop the carriage with a heavy thud, ribs screaming in protest. He’s sweatin’ like a pig now, gloved hand moving to grasp at his hat as he gets his footing. He pushes on, leaning as he digs his fists into the driver’s shoulders of his dress shirt.

“Sorry, pal.”

The carriage rocks and you blanch as the driver -- a kind man by the name of Thomas -- flies by your window with a horrible scream. You fly forward as the carriage is stopped dead in the middle of the canyon pass.

The carriage skids, tipping violently back and forth as it settle in the dirt. The dust kicked up around the carriage begins to settle as you realize you’re stopped in a standstill. 

There’s another cry of a hawk above.

This is an awfully well curated robbery, you think. The high, rocky walls of the gorge are blocking the carriage in and the circling of the highwaymen atop their horses becomes ever present.

Along with the laughter.

The outlaws are laughing.

Inside, the carriage is silent.

Jenny grips your hand.

“John,” it’s your mother, clinging to your father with a whisper, “What do we do?”

“We reason with them --”

You spare a look at your father, then, and his usual coolness is back -- his aging face is set with an angry sort of determination that is swiftly cut down when the door to the carriage is yanked open.

If this wasn’t life or death, maybe you would have gotten more satisfaction out of it.

“Hiya, folks.”

The gun pressed to the temple of your father riles a scream out of your mother. You and Jenny keep quiet, lips sealed tight, and you watch as the men seem to double in numbers -- suddenly, there’s three hauling your family from the carriage. You watch as Jenny is passed into a rough grip, one man helps her down and another trains his hands on her waist.

Stepping into the sun, you blink rather incredulously, at the act.

Irritation, born out of the heat and torture of the morning boils over.

When you emerge, struck square in the face by the heat of the summer sun, the gang falls into silence for a breaking moment, all eyes landing on you as you stand in the doorway of the carriage.

You’re certainly something -- a high-class girl poised in a dress worth more than him, he reasons. Your hair, swept into an intricate style, screams Paris couture and Arthur realizes that all the rumors the girls had overheard about you must be true. You look like you sleep on a mattress full of money.

Arthur shares a look of approval with Dutch.

This might actually work, this whole kidnapping thing.

“And you must be th’ Miss Turner we’ve all heard so much about.”

It’s a low drawl.

Arthur, sweeps his hat from his head, dropping into a rather mocking bow as you recognize him as the one who’d kindly chucked Thomas off the canyon five hundred feet back.

He’s something scary -- all muscle and broad shoulders and guns strapped to his hips and thigh. His eyes are wild with something you can’t pin down. You’re nearly sure you see a smirk behind his black bandana; the creeping tan along his arms calls to man who spends his afternoons running from lawmen. His hair is like gold, messed from the afternoon ride and lawless activities.

You decide, in that moment, you don’t like him.

From the bottom step of the carriage, he offers a hand.

You swat it away on instinct.

The look on your face is one of fire and determination.

You snap. “I can manage fine, thank you.”

That riles sudden laughter out of the gang. The one with the blue eyes gives a deep laugh then, his hat pressed to his abdomen as he does. He swipes at sweat along his brow, dropping a hand to his belt as he eyes you critically.

“And an attitude t’ boot!”

Anger flares in your chest, face twisted into a horribly mean look. You help yourself down on shaking knees. Your heels hit the hot dirt and you stumble; the summer heat of West Elizabeth is like a punch in the gut. Jenny is quick to glue herself to your side, fisting your dresses sleeves in a tight grip. You glance to the back of the carriage, watching as two other men begin to off load trunks of belongings onto their horses. You spot yours, a small black one, throw among their stash.

“Awfully kind a’ you folks t’ stop fer us,” says another highwayman now, “Now, if you’d --”

“If you’re smart,” bites your father, “You’ll let us go. I have money, I can write a check --”

“That,” the one with the blue eyes says as he raises a finger, “We know --”

“Then let us go!” cries your mother, “We’ll give you all we have and go on our way --”

“Betsy --”

“Shut up, John --!”

Suddenly, another gunshot. Everyone jumps as the sound ricochets around the red canyon.

It kicks dust between you and the blue-eyed outlaw.

Symbolism. What a thing.

Simple.

This was supposed to be simple.

This is not simple.

“O’Driscolls!”

The gang scatters on instinct, running like ants under a boot at the sudden appearance of at least ten O’Driscolls on the canyon’s ledge -- beneath the iron sights of their rifles, the gang is exposed and so is their damn loot; Arthur calls out to Charles and John quickly, fingers drawn between his lips as he whistles for his horse.

“Grab th’ girl!” he cries, “Grab ‘er an’ get outta here!”

He didn’t specify which girl.

Arthur, really, didn’t think he’d need to.

But, when the boys pull Jenny from you and throw her on the back of Charles’ horse, you’re left pinned to the back side of the carriage as bullets swiss in and out of the wood. Arthur’s eyes are pulled wide as he realizes you’re the one they needed -- he skids to the dirt at your feet, hand wrapping tight around your wrist as he pulls you towards his horse.

“Time t’ go, lady!”

“Let go of me!”

“Will you stop --!”

You land a good punch on his arm, kicking as he drags you up with a huff and pins you in-front of him on the saddle -- his horse bucks with an angry whinny and bucks. You pale, motion sickness roaring back up like a tide as you become a bit more passive.

Arthur calls out to Dutch and the others over his shoulder:

“Get the goods out of here -- we gotta go!”

Your eyes widen as horses begin to pour into the canyon behind you. You shriek as a bullet whizzes by your head and you swear you could feel the air on it. Your hands fist the saddle, voice pulling a startled yell from your throat as the outlaw kicks his golden spurs into the belly of the beast underneath you and sends you both flying into a sprint. Your back hits his chest, hair flying wildly.

Arthur sputters, spitting hair out of his mouth. He pulls a face before calling out.

“C’mon, boy! Hiya!”

The pace is grueling, fueled by the hot iron on their heels. Bullets are whizzing by left and right, the clobber of hooves filling your ears. You can feel him, the blue-eyed man, hunching over you, trying his best to protect you from the firefight. He snaps the reigns with a flick of his wrist, pulling his bandana down so he can breathe. He turns, looking back to check his six, losing his hat in the process.

The first time you ever get a good look at Arthur Morgan, he’s cursing like a sailor, sweating like a pig and running for his life.

As far as first impressions go, this is just about right.

The sudden change in sound of his horses hooves catches your attention and you blink down, noticing the change in terrain -- it’s a hollow sound.

You’re on railroad tracks.

You realize, suddenly, the outlaw is trying to make a pass, to hike up and around the bridge the other gang is trying to choke him off at -- but, when he hits the trail, Arthur tugs fast the other way. He can see O’Driscolls are lining the ridge to the South, towards camp, and the split decision in direction sends you both and his horse careening across a narrow bridge.

You blink down.

KAPLUNKKAPLUNKKAPLUNKKAPLUNK. The sound of the hooves on the bridge is panic inducing.

Twenty feet down, the Dakota river rushes by.

A bullet kicks wood splinter up ahead of you.

“What the hell are you doing?!” you scream in a rush over the wind, fingers gripping the saddle, “You’re going to kill us both!”

“Will you shut up?!”

Don’t remind me.

Down the valley, there’s at least fifteen men on horses following you, their rides splashing through a shallow end of the river as they cross fifty feet up the hill -- to your right, it’s the same; you’d be thankful if they were lawmen, but you have an inkling of a feeling these O’Driscoll boys are out to get the same thing as the man behind you on the saddle.

The bridge, though? Well, it’s a clear shot -- no winding trails and hills -- and as Arthur begins to pull ahead, begins to think this just might work...

The blaring horn of a train hits his ears as it exits the tunnel up ahead.

Your eyes widen.

His horse comes to a painfully sharp stop and you fly forward; the horse gives a horrible cry as it realizes the impending danger just as you both do.

“There’s -- oh no, no, no--”

“Yeah, I see it, damn it--”

“Train, train!”

Arthur turns back then, yanking the reigns in a panic and trying to speed his horse up, but -- there’s no way. Not with that 1,500 ton, coal swallowing, iron giant barreling towards them. Not with you and him both on the back of it. Arthur curses, eyes moving to the edge of the bridge as they ride at a breaking pace.

The river below is deep there. The water is dark blue, glittering in the high afternoon sun.

His eyes are wild, blinking back at the train over his shoulder.

“... Son of a bitch,” he grumbles, coming to the realization that this is going to have to happen.

Suddenly, he pulls back on the reigns, They stop. He swings his legs over the edge of his horse.

CHUG CHUG CHUG CHUG! CHOOOOOOOOOOOO --

“What are you doing?!” you shriek again, kicking his hands away, clawing at the reigns.

“Nice day fer a swim, don’t you think --”

“What -- get off --!”

The horn blares, louder this time, and the chug of wheels rattle the bridge. You both turn to look, eyes pulled into panic. Arthur’s grip on your waist is tight, hauling you over his shoulder as he slaps the back of his horse, sending it off in a blink. You screech, clawing at his back as the train gets closer and closer and the bridge is shaking and the horn rattles your chest and it’s getting closer and closer and closer --

CHUG CHUG CHUG CHUG --

And the last thing you see is the blue-eyed outlaw’s apologetic look as he hauls you and then himself off the bridge at Fool’s Pass.

-- CHOOOOoooooo!

SPLASH!

Kidnapping.

It’s always simpler said aloud.

[litgwritersroom]

Prompt: Secret Santa

Suzi: character to Bia / trope to Em Em: character to Suzi / trope to Bia Bia: character to Em / trope to Suzi

So here's mine:

Bia allocated the trope: Fake Dating Em allocated the character: Ciaran

THE ONLY TWO THINGS - Ciaran / OC

Finally able to express my adoration for the sweet Irish boy. Note - Kerry does not make an appearance in this short fic sorry :(

Season 3 - 2700+ words - Ciaran / OC

.

“Fuck off, I’m not doing that”.

“Soph. Please. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.”

“No. Absolutely not.”

“Come on, it’ll be fun.”

“It absolutely does not sound like fun. Surely he’s got someone else he can take?”

Kelly shook her head. “Honestly, he’s not the dating type. He just has real trouble finding a nice girl.”

“You’re nice, why don’t you go?”

Kelly shot her a look. “Babe, he’s me cousin. It’s a family wedding. They already know who I am. Besides, I already told them your name. So it has to be you.”

“You what!?”

“They asked what the girlfriend’s name was, and I panicked and I jumped in and said Sophie. I said you were a friend of mine and that’s how you met”

Sophie groaned into her hands. “How many favours is this now? How many cupcakes are you indebted to me?”

Kelly squealed, dropping the bag of flour she was holding, which landed on the commercial kitchen counter with a pouf of powder. She ran around the bench to Sophie, wrapping her arms around her. 

“You’ll do it?! Oh my god! Oh my god! I owe you a thousand cupcakes, I promise, I’ll make every single one, babe!”

Sophie rolled her eyes. “Text me his number. Some of us have work to do. I’ll message him later.”

Kelly immediately whipped her phone out, dropping a contact to her. Sophie sighed. 

“You’re buying my dress, by the way.”

Kelly squealed again, and hugged her. “I will! And shoes, and we’ll get our hair done, oh my god, this is gonna be so fun!”

Sophie laughed. It wasn’t like Kelly couldn’t afford it. The bakery had taken off so significantly that she had a full staff. And she was raking it in. Sophie, as her business manager, knew exactly what she was making. 

Kelly’s buying me a new dress. And it’s gonna be a fucking nice one.

.

Soph sat at her desk, clicking through to renew their business license. But she kept glancing at her phone. This was, by far, the most interesting thing to happen to her in a long time. At the very least, it would make a great story to tell at parties.

She picked up her phone and tapped the contact. 

________________________________________________________

Sophie:

Hey, Ciaran! Kelly’s friend Sophie here, apparently we’re dating lol

Ciaran:

Feck, I am so sorry lol. Thank you so much for doing this

Sophie:

All good, free booze for the night, and I needed a good laugh. Plus, she’s never gonna let you live this down. 

Probably should meet up at some point though, to get our story straight

Ciaran:

That’s sound. Coffee? Whenever you’re free. I’m actually in Dublin today if you’re about, could go for a dander?

Sophie:

Yeah, that’d be great! Let me get a couple more things done and I’ll text you where :) 

________________________________________________________

She’d barely had a chance to send the text before she heard the bell ring in the bakery downstairs. They weren’t even open today. So she wasn’t sure how whoever it was had gotten in. 

She waited for the sound of Kelly calling out to say she’d heard it… but… silence. She checked the cameras. Kelly had her headphones on, dancing around the kitchen. And then she spotted the person who’d entered. 

Oh, hello…

She jumped up, quickly rounding the corner from the office.

Woah.

He had the tall and handsome part down… but dark, he was not. He was pale as all hell, with fiery red hair. And big. Big shoulders. Big arms. 

Woof. She said. Exactly her bloody type.

It was all she could do to not bite her lip. 

Who in god’s green Ireland was this?

He looked a little shocked as he spotted her… but he smiled, somewhat nervously. And she suddenly felt a little dizzy. She could see how blue his eyes were from metres away. And his smile… god damn. 

She swallowed. “Hi! We’re actually not open yet.”

“Hi… erm, yeah, sorry, yeah, I know. I’m actually here to see Kelly?”

His delicious Irish lilt was even stronger than Kelly’s.

When Sophie had moved to Ireland, she thought she’d get sick of the accent. 

She was wrong.

“Oh, right, sure, just a sec, I’ll grab her.”

Fuck. Of course he was here to see Kelly. One of a never-ending stream of men trying to date the bubbly blonde. 

She stepped back from the storefront and into the kitchen. She waved her hands at Kelly, who pulled off her headphones. 

“There’s an extremely good looking guy here to see you, you lucky bitch.”

Kelly’s face fell. “Shit. What’s he look like?”

“Handsome redhead?”

Kelly shook her head, frowning, and unsure. Probably too many of them chasing her to count. 

“Stupidly blue eyes? Built like a house? Bit nervous?” Soph teased. 

Realisation swept over Kelly’s face, and she beamed, and ran through the kitchen, grabbing Sophie’s hand as she did. As the two of them went back out to the front of the store, Kelly spotted the guy, and threw her arms around him, squealing. 

He almost fell over from the force of her hug. 

“Kel! Jaysus, lay off”

“C’mere” she pulled him over to Sophie. 

“Babe… this is my cousin Ciaran.”

What?

Sophie raised her eyebrows a little.

Ciaran looked like that?!

How the fuck did he have trouble getting a date!?

“Ciaran, this is Sophie.”

Ciaran’s face fell, and his eyes darted up and down her, before looking away, clearly terrified. 

“Jaysus Christ.”

Sophie chuckled “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Ciaran swallowed, looking even more frightened at the fact he might’ve offended her. “I… er… I just… No one’s gonna believe… I mean… jaysus, look at yeh. You’re like… ” 

He motioned to Sophie, catching her eye, and immediately averting his. He groaned, cringing audibly, covering his face as a deep blush crept over it. 

Okay, this was possibly the single most flattering reaction she could’ve expected?

Kelly laughed loudly. “Now d’ye see why he’s had trouble getting a date?”

Sophie grinned, and leaned over to Kelly, whispering in her ear, but loud enough so that Ciaran could hear her.

“It’s a shame. If you’d shown me a photo I would have done it for free.”

She winked at Kelly, who giggled furiously.

She leaned over the bench. “So Ciaran… you said you were going to take me for coffee. You free now?”

He looked like he’d just been slapped. 

“Uhh… yah, yes, yeah, I mean, yeah, free as a bird.”

Sophie winked at Kelly, and walked over to Ciaran, taking his arm. He jumped about a mile in the air, as if he’d just been electrified. 

Sophie shot him an amused look. “Babe, we’ve been together for…”

She looked at Kelly to check, and she laughed. “I said about 4 months”

Sophie gasped. “Almost four months! You’re gonna have to hold my hand eventually?”

Ciaran laughed, and Sophie felt a rush of excitement as she heard it. He had the most beautiful, melodic giggle. He seemed to relax slightly, and she took it as a sign. She slipped her hand into his, linking their fingers together. His hands were huge. Warm. But not soft. There were calluses across his palms, obviously from lifting weights. And boy she could tell. 

.

He barely said a word to her as they walked to the cafe, but he insisted on paying for her coffee, which made Sophie smile. Because it was a nice day, they went for their dander around the park. 

“So you work with Kelly, then?” he laughed. 

“Yeah. I’m her business manager. She didn’t say?”

He shook his head. “She just told me to drop by today.”

She laughed to herself. Of course she did. Kelly knew Sophie would never turn her down. And she set herself an insurance policy of having Ciaran just happen to drop by, knowing Sophie’s penchant for sweet Irish boys. Particularly tall, muscular ones with strong accents and sparkling eyes.

Sophie laughed. “‘Course she did. Bloody Kelly. She’s plotting again.”

He smiled.

“So what do you do then?” She asked

“I’m a bouncer”

“Makes sense”

“How?”

“You’re bloody huge”

He laughed again, and she felt a wave of butterflies. His laugh is… god. It was really something else. 

“Thanks, I guess?”

“Must be hard being a bouncer being as quiet as you are?”

He smiled at her. “Eh, I’m not really all that quiet. Just get nervous around pretty girls.”

She looked up at him, a little surprised. “Are you flirting with me?”

“Sorry. Sorry.”

She stopped him. “Don’t apologise for flirting with me, I’m your girlfriend, remember?”

They disposed of their coffee cups, and she took his hand again, making him jump a little again. They walked in silence, and before long, found a nice, secluded spot in the park to walk in circles around.

“So why do you think you get so nervous around girls?”

Ciaran looked like she’d just asked him why the universe existed. “I… I don’t know? Because they’re pretty?”

She shook her head. “D’you get nervous around Kelly? She’s a girl?”

“Yeah, but she’s me cousin? We grew up together. That’s different.”

“Mmmm, true. But she’s a girl. And I’m a girl. The only difference is that one of us is dateable, and one of us is your cousin.”

He blushed. “I know. I know it’s stupid. I’m 22. I should be able to talk to women… I just… god I get so bloody nervous. Like, what if they wanted to…”

“Have you ever slept with a girl?”

He hesitated… and shook his head. 

She nodded supportively. “But, you’ve kissed one, right?”

He went silent. “I… yeah, ‘course!”

She studied his face, and he was blushing again. “Have you?”

He furrowed his brow, cringing again. “Once. When I was 16. And it was just a peck.”

Sophie clapped her hand to her mouth. “Oh my god, Ciaran, no. Fuck. No wonder you’re nervous!”

He turned his face away, blushing furiously and groaning. "It just seems like the older I get, the more embarrassing it is."

She shook her head. “Nope. No way. Not happening. You come here right now.”

His face fell, and he looked like he was about to throw up. “What? Why?”

She giggled, and took a step towards him. She could see the terror in his eyes. 

She placed her hand on his arm. “Don’t worry! You’ve got nothing to lose, here. You don't have to impress me, or be good at it. We'll just get it out of the way, yeah? Right here, right now!"

He nodded slightly, and she stepped toward him, and placed her hands on either side of his face.  

The poor lad was shaking.

“Just relax” she whispered, as she stood on her tip-toes. 

She lifted her chin and leaned in, gently tapping the end of her nose against his. She could hear his breath shuddering. 

She pulled him closer, brushing her lips against his… but waited. Waited for him to close the miniscule distance. And waited. And waited.

Fuck it. 

She pressed her lips to his. He had big, soft lips, and she couldn’t deny… they felt wonderful on hers. But she could feel him shuddering with nerves and his hands were still by his sides. 

She was gonna have to do it all. 

She felt for his hands, and lifted them, bringing his arms to wrap around her waist. She immediately felt his thumb stroke her through her shirt. 

Good boy, that’s it.

She brought her hands back to his face, stroking her nails down the hair on the back of his head.  

He sighed into her lips, and immediately pulled back. 

“Sorry, I…”

“You’re allowed to make noises. I like it.”

She pulled him back into the kiss, stroking her nails through his hair again, and he sighed again. She placed her hand flat on the back of his neck, holding him to her, as she teased at his lips with her tongue. He seemed to pick up on it, and opened his mouth, immediately matching his tongue’s movements with hers.

He really did have huge arms. They wrapped completely around her, making her feel completely held. Completely surrounded by him. His large, warm hands felt so good on her… this was turning into a fucking awesome kiss.

His arms shifted slightly, and he seemed to hesitate for a moment… but brought one hand to her head, threading his fingers through her hair. 

She moaned, and he almost gasped into her, pulling away. 

“Sorry, did I hurt you? I…”

“I really like it when you play with my hair.”

He looked surprised, but encouraged. “Oh, okay” 

She brought him back into the kiss once more. He probably got the point by now… but… a little more practice couldn’t hurt… right? 

Plus… he was getting more and more confident with each second. His hands came back to her hair almost instantly, as the other wrapped around her waist, and she felt… 

Hang on… he was pulling her into the kiss. 

Good lad. Quick learner.

“Ciaran Mulcahy, is that you?” 

They broke apart, and Ciaran looked suddenly nervous. He went to step away from her, but she pulled him closer.

Act the part, Ciaran, you idiot She willed him.

“Fuck, it’s my mate from school.”

“Did you like him?”

“Yeah he’s fun”

“What school’d you go to?”

“Waterford secondary.”

She took his hand, squeezing it gently. As the friend made his way over, Ciaran let go of her hand to greet him with a hug. 

“What’re you doin’ in Dublin?” the scruffy-haired man asked.

“Just here for the day” he said

For fuck’s sake, Ciaran. Think. Dating for four months and you’re coming to see your girlfriend for just the day? No!

“Well… and the night” Sophie chuckled. 

Ciaran looked terrified, but had enough sense to play along. “Yeah. So goin’ back tomorrow.”

His mate looked impressed… and was sneaking side glances at her. 

“And I’m guessin’ this is the famous Sophie?”

She grinned. “Babe, you talk about me so much I’m famous?”

Ciaran looked at her, a little panicked, but she smiled widely at his friend.

“And yes, I’m Sophie.”

“I’m Liam, by the way.”

“Oh wait, the Liam?” She looked at Ciaran, and he nodded, playing along. “What was it… Waterford Secondary?”

Liam beamed at her. “Yeah! That’s me!”

She threw her arms around him. “It’s so great to finally meet you, I’ve heard so much about you!” 

“Oh yeah, like what?” Liam asked, not understanding how inconvenient of a question that was. 

Sophie panicked, but shot out a generic teasing response, chuckling. “All sorts of bloody things. None of them good.”

Liam and Ciaran both cracked up laughing.

“But I want to know what kinds of things have been going around about me, that you seem to know about me?” She asked, innocently. 

“Oh, just that someone might’ve finally caught our Ciaran’s eye.”

Ciaran laughed, and jumped in. “Well, can you blame me? She’s pretty eye-catching.”

Wow, um, swoon?

Sophie blushed furiously, threading her fingers back into Ciaran’s. 

Liam looked between them, smiling. “Well, I was clearly interrupting, so I won't keep you, but Ciaran, if you’re not too busy tonight, we should go for a pint. Sophie, you too!”

Sophie smiled at him. “That sounds great!”

“Yeah, grand!” Ciaran said, smiling at Liam. He squeezed her hand tightly. “I’ll text ye’”

Liam hugged them both, and made his way back in his original direction. And as soon as he was out of view, Ciaran groaned loudly. 

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. You just keep getting roped into more and more shit.”

She laughed. 

“It’s okay, I wasn’t doing anything tonight anyway. But unfortunately, that does mean that you and I are spending the afternoon together. I’m going to need a crash course in Ciaran… Fuck, he just said it. Mulcahy?”

He nodded. “What’s yours?”

“Hammond.”

“Right, we know each other’s surnames now. And we’ve kissed.”

She laughed, and sarcastically added “The only two important things in a relationship.”

He nodded, laughing as well, as he took her hand in his. They started off back to Kelly’s bakery, and she felt his thumb gently stroking her hand as they walked. Sophie smiled to herself, as their steps fell in together. 

This might be fun after all.

[hausofmamadas]

First, let me start off by saying .... I’m mad. I’m mad at this whole thing, how perfect it is, how well captured this pobre’s mannerisms, how steamy the smut is bc like, yes, it’s hot but it also happens to be ELEGANT ASF and I want it on the record, imma straight fight you if you ever claim to be bad at writing Sexy Stuff, okay. Porque no me chingues con estas pendejadas porque es un chinga de mentiras(cariñosa), te lo digo. Estamos? Bien 👍🏼

═

✸ His fingers are twitching, restless, begging for a smoke. He emphasizes each word as if doing so would make you believe he’s right, like this isn’t career suicide, like this would solve everything. The final piece to the puzzle that is Colombia’s war on drugs.

YEAH SO HERE WERE GONNA BARREL OUT THE FUCKING GATE JUST COPY/PASTING A FULL ASS PARAGRAPH AND ME FUCKING S C R E A MING AT THE TOP OF MY LUNGS BECAUSE LITERALLY I DONT EVEN— I DONT KNOW WHERE TO BEGIN??? first off, begging for a smoke, idk why but that is such an evocative description but it is so visceral, i can see it as tho I’ve filmed it myself. But then also the characterization of “like this isn’t career suicide, like this would solve everything” is the most accurate thing that has been written about this. Like it just summarizes the contradictions so vividly and succinctly, im actually shaking you to the point of concussion sksksksks

✸ You can tell this one stings by how his lips curl slightly. How his full name, raw, usually foreign, comes out of your mouth.

Okay i love that you specifically said his full name is usually foreign ngl when I read a fic where he’s referred to as “Javier” a lot, it takes me out of it a little just bc they never really call him that on the show and it sounds so formal but THEN ALSO SKSKSS the way this smacks so much of that thing when your parents call you by your first, middle, and last name when you know you right fucked up something sksks like they mean business

✸ ‘’ Does Steve know about this? ‘’ ... Did you tell him before me, you want to say, do you trust me as much as I trust you. It is a shame really, how you want to be the first person he confides in, how you yearn to be more than a lover at times.

GODDDDDD AGAIN I AM SHAKING MY FIST INTO THE SKY AT HOW FUCKING GOOD THIS IS, LIKE STRAIGHT THE FUCK UP!!!!! THE LONGING, THE KNOWING HES NOT GOOD FOR YOU AND STILL WANTING MORE ANYWAY. Like fododddkdkdidke wow, im just fucking really like— okay, you know how I’m the hash slinging slasher episode of spongebob where squidward is telling him the story and he pulls the holes down on the sides of his face runs to camera roll to try to find it ..... okay this one? This is my fucking face rn

Specifically at do you trust me as much as I trust you like woof, idk dude that shit just SLAPT

✸ But you do remember how easy it had been to ease into it, to borrow his shirts so you could stay the night, to remember his days off and his favourite colour.

SOROROTRPTTOTOTRTTTOOOOOOPPPPPPPP YOU HAVE TO STOP, YOU HAVE TO STOP FUCKING DOING THIS TO ME, I DOKT EVEJRNEKSISKEN EVEN KNOW HOW TO EXPRESS THE WAY THIS MADE ME FEEL. Like it just godddddddddd, “remember his days off and his favourite colour,” like fuck man, we have all been there or maybe it’s just me sksksks who’s been a Simp for man with no capacity to Simp in equal measure in return KEKW but godddd just this is so, he’s under your skin and it was never supposed to be that way like lowkey you’re trying to white-lady-math-meme how tf you got to the point of liking this mf so much when you went into shit like “im not out to wreck my own life just my bed/body sjsjs si me sientes sksksks” and then weeks go by and you’re like “dopedopedopedopedope so glad I know how you take your coffee and am dreaming about what kind of father you’d be to our kids. It’s cool” sksksks look I’m rambling and I know it but i just— look it fucks, okay? It just fucks.

✸ ‘’ I do, Ja- ‘’ you swallow, hard, ‘’ I do, but you can’t put those guys in prison and shake their hands at the same time. ‘’

Pfffttjejdjdkdjsjd but why do I feel like Javi deep deep deep down lowkey thinks he could make those dudes like him tbf at least he speaks Spanish and could prob avoid getting his ass beat to fuck on a regular basis. Cannot say the same for our boy Steve sksks

✸ His shoulders relax a bit as he exhales smoke through his nose. You know he doesn’t need a new enemy right now, that he feels like he is surrounded on all fronts.

Oh idk why this made me so just 🥺🥺🥺🥺 like theres something weirdly romantic about this?? Like despite the straight-up accurate and reasonable judgements about his straight-up insane and unreasonable actions, they’re willing to put those aside in order to make him feel not even just like at-ease but in an effort to just be there for him and listen and not me just over here shaking my head bc that means Reader has achieved a level of emotional stability and selflessness that Javier mf sksks Peña is not prepared for

✸ ‘’ Frankly? ‘’ he pulls again at his cigarette, smoke filling up the space between you, ‘’ I stopped counting. ‘’

SKSKSK no i am screamamamaksksing at this response to “when’s the last time you got a full night’s sleep” bc like..... same, Javi. Same. Like honorable mention for my similarly garbage sleep schedule only im not in a foreign country, fighting against narco terrorism, working within a system that’s designed to do nothing but facilitate my failure.... im just like, “breakups is hard. I hate grocery shopping. Man, gas is expensive. What do I want to do with my life, what do I want to be when I grow up. Dang, that climate change is a real bummer” sksksks so like yeah— that’s the same right?

✸ ‘’ I can’t risk my career, my life, on this. Maybe you end up back in the US if the higher-ups catch you, severance package or whatever, but what do you think happens to me? ‘’

Colombia, is what will happen to you, sicarios and forced resignation, is what will happen to you.

BRO THE ACTUAL DID I JUST SAY ABOUT MAKINg ME PEEL My OWN FACE OFF, like anatomically I’m gonna run out of things to peel off and it’ll just me my bones. Bc the way the “sicarios and forced resignation” SHOOK ME FOR JESUS. Like idk put that way, the actual genuine stakes here become extremely real in a way that i don’t feel sometimes even watching the show

✸ ‘’ I can have you an embassy ID, you can come with me. ‘’ *Don’t sell promises you can’t give me.* It is your turn to be angry now, ‘’ Don’t lie to me. Don’t say things like that. ‘’

SKSKSKSKSKSKS JAVI SJSJSJS THE SOLUTION TO EVERY PROBLEM IS NOT TO GET AN EMBASSY ID AND BOUNCE TF OUT OF TOWN actually the bounce out of town part isn’t a horrible plan but like my god, i feel like the embassy office doesn’t even make him fill out any paperwork for those ids anymore, that’s how often he goes there. Like they legit know when he’s gettin his dick wet, based on his need for an embassy ID, im fucking crying

✸ Home. Not yours, his. His country, his language, his favourite dinner places. Not yours. You stay silent, you don’t know what you want, what you should do, or why you want to say yes.

OKAY there comes a part... every fic, where I have to whip out my hilariously tiny prop-reading glasses, and my comically tiny detective’s notepad and take notes bc i just fucking realized you do this thing where like... you refer to broad things and then throw something in more specific that just makes that shit SLAP so much harder like the “his country, his language, his favourite dinner places.” And lioiiikke im sure there’s a specific name for this that those who are like real writers and thus significantly more qualified to even speak on the matter than i am even tho that never stops me KEKW would know. Howmever bc I am a full dilettante, im just gonna call it “emotional scalability” sksks where you refer to a thing broadly and then throw in something smaller, more concrete/mundane to demonstrate the emotional weight of a thing. Bro idk im sure this makes no fucking sense, but like look, i see you and i am Learning Things soskskskskssk that is all

✸ You can see the concern in his eyes, almost like regret. Maybe I should have kept this to myself. You know he is overthinking like he always does. His thigh is warm between yours as you pull him closer by the belt buckle.

OHHHHHHHH TOYTKEEIRJDJDJDJDJSJS R YOU DID NOT JUST FUCJIGNSKSKE DO THAT TO ME LIKE LULLING ME INTO A SENSE OF SECURITY WITH THE ANGST AND THEN FUCKING SLAPPING ME IN THE FACE WITH “by the belt buckle” im fucking screeeeeeching rn

✸ You feel the need to reassure him. You want him to know, know that you won’t exchange him for a few favours from his boss.

Okay so we’re just gonna file this under things I would never have thought about being a problem in these situations where I am just full :woahdeeby: marveling at the fact that you put this detail in there bc that makes so much fucking sense that it would be a concern and something that might make it harder to establish trust between them, although now, clearly Javi has established it with Reader and vice versa

✸ ‘’ Javi… They will wait for me before starting the meeting. ‘’

lsksksksksksksns so idk why, but my first thought was like, “oh daaaaaaamn okay, who is Reader and what is their title that literally their presence in the meeting is necessary to proceed with the meeting. Like is this bitch a boss? I think this bitch is a boss?” And then i just hc’d that they’re a boss bc the idea of that power dynamic tickles me to no end

✸ Your sentence comes out insistent, a small warning without any real meaning behind it. Don’t start something you can’t finish. His arms slither between yours and the rest of your body, his palms pressing against the wooden desk as he leans forward, belt slipping from your fingertips as his hips pull naturally backward.

FJDJDIWNWJWIAOQQPPADJNWWI\\+£\\*]*|££]+_+.¥{’* HIJO DE SHINGADA MADRE NO ME CHINGUES CON ESTE PUES BECAUSE THIS IS POSITIVELY FUCKING INDECENT OF YOU TO DESCRIBE THE WAY HES LEANING AGAINST THE DESK LIKE THIS, LIKE DESCRIBING IT SO WELL, ITS AS IF IVE FILMED AND EDITED THE WHOLE DAMN SCENE MYSELF, NO I CANNOOTTTT FUCKING BREATHE

✸ ‘’ Do you have to go now? ‘’

It’s not a question, even though he does whisper it like one. Don’t go. Stay here. An order, even if there is no rank to pull.

“An order even if there’s no rank to pull.”

*pinches bridge of nose, takes deep breath*

Elise

I swear to fucking Christ

That line is such straight fucking white lightning magic sent to you by Zeus himself, i actuallt cannot convey the deep pit of outrage i feel that this combination of words exists and i can never write it, like this shit is gonna keep me up at night OKAY THATS HOW GOOD THIS SHIT IS, IM FUCKING GUERO BASEBALL BATTING MY OWN FUCKING FURNITURE

✸ His fingers hook the underside of your knees, pushing you further into the desk. His voice is soft, hypnotizing, and you know you can’t say no to him. You never can. The whole thing feels like a dream, like being stirred in honey, back and forth, back and forth.

“The whole thing feels like a dream, like being stirred in honey”

...... bro I’m fucking done. I’m done. I give up. Bc what the actual for the love of fucking fucks am I supposed to do with myself now but detonate like a pipe bomb

✸ ‘’ Even if you don’t do this, I want you to come back with me. ‘’ Fuck.

THE SKSKSKSKSOWOSKS PLACEMENT OF THAT SINGLE SENTENCE “FUCK.” IS MAKING ME ACTUALLTKKSNS HOWL LAUGHING, IT IS SUCH A MOOD

✸ ‘’ I know. I know, I just- ah ‘’

SKSKSKKSKSKSKSKSKSKSKSKSKSKSKSKKSKS THIS IS THE MOST HILARIOUS AND AUTHENTIC R E A L REACTION TO THE FUCKING DIRTY CRIMES THIS MAN IS COMMITTING RN WHEN READER IS SUPPOSED TO BE IN A FUCKING MEETING

✸ Your resolve is weak in his hands. Slipping between your fingers, pooling around on the floor, seeping into the carpet.

‘’ Yes, alright, yes. ‘’

A defeat of sorts, but not one you go out of really losing.

*throws phone down to go Weapons of Mass Destruction on my desk and furniture*

✸ Tomorrow will be another day, but as he lowers you onto the desk once and for all, pushing around at the papers and clippings, you know you signed yourself off to something way above your pay grade.

I just– I mean– I don’t know what to say to you rn. Other than “☝🏽check please!” i have to go. I have to flee the country and change my name and get off the internet wntirely and start a whole ass new life bc that closing line is such an un-fucking-real banger, i don’t even have the resolve to scream at this point. I’m just catatonic actually

Hi lovely, if you’re taking requests please could I get your take on this (I cannot get it out of my head)🥲 Javier Peña x fem - in a secret relationship and they get into a huge argument before a really important meeting and end up fucking on Gaviria’s desk👀

Honey

Javier Peña x gn!reader (swearing, smut, not full on but like, a bit, the usual for the show), 1721 words

a/n : had to use a side profile gif, otherwise, it would have been a war crime. Did i just write? like half a smut? 2022 really was something

As always it's the fictional, not the real deal, enjoy xx (do I really have to put this warning on lil javi here?)

‘’ Los pepes, Javi? This is insane. ‘’

Javier is pacing in front of you. Left, right, left, right. The wood of the desk behind you is pressing on your hip, a constant reminder on how real this moment is, how he is a hundred percent serious, no joking around this time,

‘’ It is not. ‘’

His fingers are twitching, restless, begging for a smoke. He emphasizes each word as if doing so would make you believe he’s right, like this isn’t career suicide, like this would solve everything. The final piece to the puzzle that is Colombia’s war on drugs,

‘’ You can’t be fucking serious- ‘’

‘’ Are you going to report me? Is that what you’re saying? ‘’

Your hand raises to your forehead, pressing the skin, hiding behind your hand. You didn't want your day to start off like this, fighting once more about him putting his life on the line. Sneaking around again to hide from the glances and the whispers. You had been doing a good job at it for a few months, even when he had started to be bolder at times. You sigh,

‘’ Don’t. Don’t put words in my mouth, Javier. ‘’

You can tell this one stings by how his lips curl slightly. How his full name, raw, usually foreign, comes out of your mouth. The air is tense in the room, whoever’s empty office he pulled you into. You knew he had been hiding something for weeks now. You don’t know what is worst, how you were thinking for a second that maybe he was maybe trying to fuck the new secretary, or how he was actually fucking around with narcos. You can’t stop how your foot taps incessantly on the carpet,

‘’ Does Steve knows about this? ‘’

Your voice comes out smaller than you intended, soft and whispered, like a secret. Did you tell him before me, you want to say, do you trust me as much as I trust you. It is a shame really, how you want to be the first person he confides in, how you yearn to be more than a lover at times.

You don’t remember when you and Javier had started going out, meeting out after work, sipping away the stress of the week. But you do remember how easy it had been to ease into it, to borrow his shirts so you could stay the night, to remember his days off and his favourite colour,

‘’ You’re the only one that knows. I thought you would understand. ‘’

You shake your head, shifting your weight to your other foot,

‘’ I do, Ja- ‘’ you swallow, hard, ‘’ I do, but you can’t put those guys in prison and shake their hands at the same time. ‘’

He reaches into his pocket, finally pulling a cigarette from the pack. He knows you’re right. His eyes don’t leave your face as he lights it up, and you can tell he’s burning inside, red eyes, fingers twitching. You push yourself off the desk, taking a step forward. Your hand comes up, cradling his bicep. He smells of cigarette, and whiskey and-

‘’ When was the last time you had a full night’s sleep, amor? ‘’

The word comes soft from your lips, rolling off your tongue. His shoulders relax a bit as he exhales smoke through his nose. You know he doesn’t need a new enemy right now, that he feels like he is surrounded on all fronts. It is a cry for help in a way, looking for solace in desperate times,

‘’ Frankly? ‘’ he pulls again at his cigarette, smoke filling up the space between you, ‘’ I stopped counting. ‘’

Your hand caresses down and up his arm. You are not surprised by how Javier decided to take the matter into his own hands, how he thinks doing this will end up saving everyone, even if he knows it’s not entirely true. You sigh,

‘’ I can’t risk my career, my life, on this. Maybe you end up back in the US if the higher-ups catch you, severance package or whatever, but what do you think happens to me? ‘’

Colombia, is what will happen to you, sicarios and forced resignation, is what will happen to you. You can’t look at him, so you play with his shirt instead, rubbing the material between your fingers as he leans behind you toward the desk to put out his cigarette. You can smell his aftershave and you know his eyes are trying to find yours again while he straightens his back,

‘’ I can have you an embassy ID, you can come with me. ‘’

It is like you have been shocked, raising your head so fast to look at him. Don’t sell promises you can’t give me. It is your turn to be angry now,

‘’ Don’t lie to me. Don’t say things like that. ‘’

‘’ I wouldn’t lie to you if I didn’t think I could do it. ‘’, his hand is wrapped around your elbow now, bringing you closer again, ‘’ I mean it. Do this with me, come back home with me after this. ‘’

Home.

Home.

Not yours, his. His country, his language, his favourite dinner places. Not yours. You stay silent, you don’t know what you want, what you should do, or why you want to say yes. You cross your arms, stepping back to lean on the wood once more,

‘’ I’m not sure what you want me to do. How you want me to help. ‘’

‘’ You have access to a lot more information than I do. I am not asking you to share everything, I want you to come to me if you feel it would help. You don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to. ‘’

He is a step away from you now, cornering you between him and the desk. You can smell the remnant of the cigarette on him, overpowering his cologne. You don’t remember when he got so close or when his hand wrapped carefully behind your ear to press away at the tension in your neck. You can see the concern in his eyes, almost like regret. Maybe I should have kept this to myself. You know he is overthinking like he always does. His thigh is warm between yours as you pull him closer by the belt buckle,

‘’ I’ll see what I can come up with. Your secret is safe with me, okay? ‘’

You feel the need to reassure him. You want him to know, know that you won’t exchange him for a few favours from his boss. His breath is soft on your cheek, his nose moving across your temple. If anyone were to come in now, with him between your legs, his mouth in your hair-

‘’ Javi… They will wait for me before starting the meeting. ‘’

Your sentence comes out insistent, a small warning without any real meaning behind it. Don’t start something you can’t finish. His arms slither between yours and the rest of your body, his palms pressing against the wooden desk as he leans forward, belt slipping from your fingertips as his hips pull naturally backward.

‘’ Do you have to go now? ‘’

It’s not a question, even though he does whisper it like one. Don’t go. Stay here. An order, even if there is no rank to pull. His hand slides up from the desk to your hips in one long motion, gripping at the flesh, wrinkling the fabric. His thigh comes up between your legs, pressing against you. Your head lulls back slightly, eyes following the motion,

‘’ I do, I really do- ‘’

His mouth is behind your ear now, whispering things in English you barely understand and don’t care to, as his hand taunts the skin under your shirt, pulling it from under your belt. Air gets stuck in your throat, the noises in the hallway stop. His leg comes up again, leaning forward into you with his whole body, rubbing himself on your thigh. Javier groans as your hand weave in his hair, pulling skin and curls as his lips trail your neck, tongue and teeth,

‘’ I don’t want you to go. I really really don’t want you to go. ‘’

His fingers hook the underside of your knees, pushing you further into the desk. His voice is soft, hypnotizing, and you know you can’t say no to him. You never can. The whole thing feels like a dream, like being stirred in honey, back and forth, back and forth,

‘’ Come with me, ‘’ he breathes, laboured, moaning, ‘’ Even if you don’t do this, I want you to come back with me. ‘’

Fuck.

‘’ Stop- ‘’ you press your fingers to his mouth, to keep his moans from echoing in the hallway, to keep his words from piercing through your skin,

‘’ I’ll take care of you, you know I will. ‘’ he starts again. His breath is warm on your fingers, you can feel the humidity on your skin. His hand lowers on your stomach, fingertips sliding under your underwear,

‘’ I know. I know, I just- ah ‘’

You melt into him, pushing your hips into his hand as he pushes back against your thigh,

‘’ Come with me, I beg you. ‘’

Come for me. Your resolve is weak in his hands. Slipping between your fingers, pooling around on the floor, seeping into the carpet,

‘’ Yes, alright, yes. ‘’

A defeat of sorts, but not one you go out of really losing. Your underwear slightly burns your skin as he pulls it up, pushing it to the side as much as can. He moans in your ear, again and again. Your head rolls on his shoulder, and it’s your turn to cry out, chest pressing against his,

‘’ Don’t, god- Please don’t be too loud, if someone walks in- ‘’

‘’ Are you even listening to yourself right now? ‘’ he breathes out, laughing.

You can feel him smiling against your cheek, how taunting his words are, teasing. Tomorrow will be another day, but as he lowers you onto the desk once and for all, pushing around at the papers and clippings, you know you signed yourself off to something way above your pay grade.

[viking-raider]

Quarantine: Laundry Day *COTTON CANDY FLUFF*

Summary: Doing the laundry and making breakfast with Henry.

Pairing: Henry Cavill/You

Word Count: 1,366

Warning: NONE - Fluff, COTTON CANDY GOODNESS!, Domestic Kink, Kal, Some Language.

Inspiration: I don’t know. I need to sleep xD

A/N: I’m really loving writing these sweet, mellow domestic fics. Nothing dramatic, no smut or angst. Just sweet and ordinary life.

It was laundry day in your shared household, with Henry and Kal.

Usually, you and Henry swapped the job of washing clothes, when he was home that was. This would have been Henry's turn to wash the clothes, but he had just gotten home from filming. So, you decided to do the wash this go around, allowing him to sleep in. Which was what your beloved boyfriend was now doing. Upstairs, in your king sized bed, his large and strong body hidden under the mountain of blankets, one muscular arm slung over the massive body of Kal. Both of them snoring loudly and out cold, peaceful in the growing light of the room, the sun coming through the sheer curtains that covered the bedroom windows.

You hummed as you tossed a detergent pod into the washer, then started pulling clothing out of the hamper and tossed them through the open washer door. But, a soft and sleepy woof brought you out of your early morning thoughts. Looking up, you met Kal's sleepy gaze as he stood in the laundry room doorway; then glanced at the clock on the wall.

“Right! Can't be late. Now, can we, Bear?” You chuckled at him and got up, abandoning the wash as you padded into the kitchen with Kal, feeding him, then put on his leash and collar, for his morning walk.

By the time you came back with Kal, Henry was up and had started the coffee maker, by the smell filling the air of the house. You unleashed Kal and moved into the kitchen to give him a treat, when you saw Henry in the laundry room, taking a sip of his coffee, then setting it on top of the washer, before starting to toss the clothes you had abandoned for Kal's walk, into the machine.

“Henry.” You called to him, tossing the meaty treat to Kal. “Go relax, babe.” You told him, stepping into the laundry room with him. “I can do this.”

“It's my turn, sweetheart.” Henry replied, a tired look on his handsome face, his curls falling against his forehead as he looked up at you, from a half bent position. “I can do this. It's all right, I promise.” He assured you, moving to kiss you on the cheek, before going back to sorting out the laundry.

Sighing, and knowing it was pointless to argue with your very stubborn Puppy, you shook your head and went back into the kitchen and started making breakfast for you both. You chuckled, feeling Henry's thick arms wrap around your waist and press his lips to your shoulder, nuzzling his face into your neck and squeezed you.

“Do you want potatoes?” You asked him, turning your head to kiss his lightly stubbly cheek.

“Yes, please.” Henry nodded, turning his head to capture your lips.

“How do you want your eggs?” You asked, moving away from him to pull out a knife and cutting board.

“Scrambled, please.” He replied, going into the fridge. “Are you having eggs?” He asked, looking back at you.

“Yeah.” You nodded, going into the pantry to grab two large potatoes, knowing Henry's titanic appetite. “Just one, though.” You added, going to the sink and washed the potatoes, before you started to peel them.

“One, it is!” Henry smiled, grabbing three eggs from the fridge. “Ooo, we still have some bacon left!” He grinned, and took out the package of three slices of bacon. “Can you stir this into my scramble?” He asked, holding them up for you to see.

“Yeah, can you take out whatever else you want in it?” You asked, dicing up the freshly peeled potatoes.

Henry took out the bacon, a couple of sausages and some Ricotta cheese, then carefully set them down next to you, on the counter with the eggs, as you finished cutting up the potatoes; the skillet warming on the stove.

“Henry.” You sighed, shaking your head, as Henry attached himself to you again.

You stood in front of the stove, Henry's arms wrapped snugly around your waist and his chin resting on your shoulder, as you cracked the eggs on the rim of the skillet and dropped them into the hot skillet; one handed. You carefully minded the three eggs you cracked in the pan, slowly adding in the cheese and diced up bacon, stirring them together into fluffy goodness. You added the cubed potatoes and sausages, the pop and sizzle of the grease filled the peacefully quiet kitchen. Henry gently swaying you both side to side and humming, happily.

Almost done with breakfast, Henry broke away from you and pulled out plates and silverware, so you could plate up your breakfasts, then sat with you on the couch. Snuggled into each other's sides, Henry clicked on the tv and you both watched the news as you ate.

“Oh, shit!” Henry snapped, half way through the news, and set his plate down on the coffee table with his fork. “I forgot to start the washer.” He said, rushing off to the laundry room.

A few moments later, the hissing sound of the machine turning on and beginning to fill with water filled the mews, before Henry returned to the couch, you and his breakfast, which you guarded from Kal's slick and covert attempts to eat it for him.

It was a sweet and lazy morning with Henry, empty breakfasts plates stacked on top of each other on the coffee table as you snuggled on the couch, watching whatever struck your collective fancy. But, the call of adult duties finally called you both, Henry needing to do his work out and you needed to wash the dirty plates.

You collected up the plates and silverware, and went into the kitchen, while Henry went to his elliptical. You set the plates in the sink and turned to grab the filthy skillet off the stove and got a huge shock.

“HENRY!!” You screamed at the top of your lungs, rushing into the laundry room.

“Babe!!” Henry yelled back, running into the kitchen, fully alarmed. “Wha—how the fuck!” He gasped, seeing the issue.

Inside the laundry room, there were nearly two feet of suds, flowing out of the still working washing machine. You stood at the door, soapy bubbles covering your bare feet as it flowed out of the laundry room door.

“Did you put a pod into the machine, when you finished putting the clothes in for me?” You asked, looking over your shoulder at Henry, just as alarmed.

“Um..” Henry gulped, his mouth hanging open and eyes huge as more bubbles flowed out of the laundry room. “Yeeah.”

“Oh dear.” You sighed, rubbing your face and shaking your head. “I had put one in the machine, before, I started putting the clothes in.” You confessed, stirring at the mess.

Henry moved forward, wading through the even higher mess of bubbles, shoving them aside to find the off button of the machine; stopping the production of the bubbles. You sighed again and joined him, blindly searching around for the front of the machine. Smirking, Henry collected a palm full of bubbles and playfully piled them on top of your head. You stood up and snorted at him, tapping him on the nose, getting bubbles on his face. He chuckled, scooped up some more of the bubbles, and blew them off his palm. You did the same, giggling with him.

“Uh-oh!” You laughed out loud.

Kal barked loudly rang out, him sensing he was being left out of all the fun, and dove into the mountain of bubbles, practically vanishing, minus his curly tail, swiping the bubbles side to side as it wagged, acting like a windshield wiper. Both, you and Henry, melted into a fit of laughter, blowing bubbles off your hands or throwing them at each other. Kal barked and jumped around, popping out of the mist of bubbled to tackle you, and shoved you into Henry's arms.

“Well, at least, we know the clothes will be extra clean.” Henry laughed, then kissed you, passionately.

[bulkyphrase]

Howard Stark: a fic rec list

Howard is one of my favorite MCU side characters, so I thought I'd put together a list of some of his best depictions in fanfiction.

If you've got a favorite Howard Stark story let me know because I'm always looking for more.

The Drinks are on Steve by AnonEhouse (Gen, General, 676 words)

Summary: Why can't Captain America get drunk? Howard wants to know. He is after all, a scientist.

woof by Anonymous (Gen, Not Rated, 5,085 words)

Note: This story is so fucking cute

Summary: For a prompt on the avengers kinkmeme: "...something different happens when Steve gets Dr Erskine's serum plus the Vita ray treatment... Steve does get taller and stronger, but when the first full moon hits, he turns into a big friendly looking dog. Yes, he's a weredog, not a werewolf."

More below the cut

Trophy Father by blakefancier (Steve/Howard, General, 5,648 words)

Summary: Howard wakes up in a strange place and no matter how hard he tries, he can't figure out what's going on.

Holding On (And Letting Go) by lazywriter7 (Gen, Teen, 3,723 words) tumblr: @lazywriter7

Summary: “Steve would have appreciated it.”

“Well, too bad he’s dead then.”

“You know you don’t believe that. You never have.”

“Yeah, well.” Howard turns back to his bottle. Maybe she’ll be nicer to him. “Apparently rapidly soaring hopes, followed by their unceremonious shattering, serve as extenuating circumstances.”

Peggy remains undeterred. “You still saved a Howling Commando.”

The curve of Howard’s lips against his glass is a bitter one. “Not the right one.”

Or, the fic in which Howard Stark and Bucky Barnes go for a not entirely consensual vacation.

cascades. by orange_crushed (Bucky/Steve, Mature, 152,138 words)

Note: Howard is not a huge part of this story, but his characterization is beautiful.

Summary: “Holy shit,” Howard says, crackling through the speakers. “You alive in there?” Lying is a sin, of course, but Steve’s not sure what else he can do. He’s already lied to the government and Bucky and God Almighty; and himself, himself most of all. He ought to tell the truth. That he’s not quite what they hoped for. That perhaps they should put him back into the ocean.

“Probably,” he says, instead, listening to Howard’s tinny laughter; and waits for the blast doors to unlock.

Also available as an amazing podfic read by quietnight (@quietnighty)

Midnight Oil by Takada_Saiko (Gen, Teen, 4,493 words) tumblr: @takadasaiko

Note: The other stories in this series are also great

Summary: "Stark took a swing at him right there in front of his men. You'd think a guy as smart as Stark wouldn't hit someone twice his size." - Agent Carter 1.05

Steve and the Howling Commandos are called in to come collect their pilot after Howard lands himself in some trouble over a stolen invention.

Second Chances by Takada_Saiko (Tony/Pepper, Steve/Peggy, Teen, 83,778 words) tumblr: @takadasaiko

Summary: Steve has every intention of returning the Infinity Stones to their correct place in the timeline and heading back to his own. His problems start when he makes an impulse decision to jump over to 1946 and Peggy decides to go back home with him. It only gets more complicated from there when Howard tags along with them to 2024 and suddenly Tony and Pepper have a surprise guest in their lakeside cabin.

The Scientific Method by Zelos (Gen, Teen, 5,406 words)

Summary: Written for a prompt on Avengerkink:

I read a fic the other day that mentioned how they know that Captain America's metabolism is 4 times faster, that he is 800% more resistant to drugs, etc etc. I want a fic that explores how they know that. It's up to anon whether to set it in the 1940s or the present, but I'd love to see Steve being experimented on, how long he can run, how he reacts to different drugs and poisons, how long he can go without food, etc.

“I am not experimenting on Rogers, you wretched bastard,” Howard snarled back. “He's a good man, a soldier, not a lab rat.”

“The man volunteered to be part of an experimental procedure, Stark, so in that sense he already is a lab rat.”

[princesssarcastia]

2021 Harry Potter Fanfic Primer

im here to point fingers at the incredible authors that have enabled my new interest in HP content.  im still conflicted and upset about it, tbh, but for now we’re leaning into the curve.  we’re getting out our shovel and finding out just how deep we can make the hole we’re in.  hand in unlovable hand my beloved <3.  anyway, these fics are wonderful, their authors are wonderful, and you should go read their stuff. if there’s a star next to it that means im losing my mind over it and always will be.

Creatively Maladjusted, by elumish on AO3, 101k  (they also have a wonderful writing advice blog on tumblr, @elumish, which I recommend following if you are a writer) 

A very excellent re-telling of harry’s first year at hogwarts if he were sorted into Slytherin, plus some more not!fic or piecemeal re-tellings of his second and part of his third year.  Harry, in this, has a slightly different trauma response to growing up with the Dursley’s.  He’s a bit quieter, and the signs are a bit more obvious to the people around him, and I enjoyed that immensely. 

Honestly, if you’re going to get sucked into something you have absolutely no business getting sucked into, elumish is the way to go, their fic is incredible. their teen wolf fic is also immaculate, if you’re so inclined. 

Dissonance, by ImpishTubist on AO3, 2.5k (@impishtubist on tumblr)

Set during fifth year.  Oblivious!Harry has always been a delightful trope when well executed, and this is well executed.  Plus, some angst between Remus and Harry over what Umbridge has been doing to him.

I would certainly recommend a lot of ImpishTubist’s other hp work on AO3, like Lacuna.

blow us all away, by rexcorvidae on AO3, 23k (@rexcorvidae on tumblr)

In progress (like, updated last week in progress).  Currently in the beginning of Harry’s first year.  Fem!Harry, Indian!Harry.  Hagrid puts Harry in touch with Remus when she has questions about her parents, and they become reluctant, traumatized, angst-ridden pen pals who keep missing each other’s true intentions like ships in the night.  hot DAMN do I love this fic.  there’s hints of the way the dursley’s treat Harry peaking through in her letters, and I appreciated the attention to “hmm, her experience as a girl of indian descent in britain under the thumb of a bunch of white people who like being Normal may not have been gucci”

Definitely comb through the rest of their HP fic, too, I may or may not have gone feral over it.

Where the Heart is, by silver_fish on AO3, 15k (@kohakhearts on tumblr)

Woof.  This one said, “hey, harry was probably SUPER depressed in the summer after fifth year.  like, clinically.  maybe someone should do something about that.”  Fuck yeah.  Then this one said, “that someone was Snape.”  You all know my opinions on Snape; generally, Bad.  But damn if this fic didn’t wholly convince me by the end of it.  I thought it was a very realistic way for Snape to start seeing Harry as a person all on his own, and not a proxy for Snape’s angst over James and Lily, respectively.  The angst is wonderful, the ending is even more so.

*bernie sanders voice* I am once again asking you to read through the rest of the author’s HP fic.  a lot of them have similar themes; there’s actually a great one with Molly that i’m not reccing here, Wonder.

☆Bindings, Bindings, by Quietlemonhush on AO3, 60k (@quietlemonhush on tumblr)

WORDS CANNOT EXPRESS TO YOU HOW MUCH I ENJOYED/AM ENJOYING THIS.  If I had to pick a single fic and say “you, it’s your fault I’m stuck here,” it would be this one.  Anyway Lily in the afterlife is So Very Angry about how Petunia is treating Harry, and how Sirius is rotting in Azkaban, and how Remus is alone, that she literally brings herself back to life and drags James and Regulus with her.  All three of them are there to chew bubblegum and fix everything that went wrong after they died—and would you look at that, they’re all out of bubblegum!  There’s only Fury left.  That inciting premise is very crack, but every moment after that is very much not crack.  Lily and James love harry more than anything, the way a child should be loved; James and Sirius have the epic friendship of a lifetime; Sirius and Remus have staggering amounts of resolved sexual tension and take turns keeping each other in check; Regulus, though he realized that Voldemort and his family were shit before he died, is still unlearning all his racist bullshit and, also, years of trauma.  Actually, they’re all traumatized, but hey: now they have one another again and not a damn one of them seems inclined to let go anytime soon.  Quietlemonhush went, “hey, HP has a lot of Awful people in it, and a lot of Righteous people in it, and many of them are Very, Very Powerful; also, love is the most powerful force in the universe” and i said “hell yes tell me more right now.”  And then they did!

Quietlemonhush writes Sirius/Remus in a way that makes it sooo much fun to devour, so the rest of their HP fic is most certainly worth a look, if that’s your thing.

Rebuilding, by Colubrina on AO3, 113k (@colubrina on tumblr)

Hermione/Draco (*shrug emojis into the abyss* yeah, yeah, like none of us have ever been there before).  Takes place during Hogwarts 8th year, and while the beginning is, IMO, a little unfair to Ron, it gets much better.  Tells the story of Hermione and Draco clearing the air, learning to like each other, having some hormones over each other, and then falling in love.  Also tells the story of Hermione and Theo Nott becoming friends; the story of how every single 7th and 8th year student is fucked to hell by the war and the Carrows; the story of how they start an emotional support group about it and all become friends; and the story of, what the hell do you do with yourself after that kind of trauma?

I’ve been dipping in and out of Colubrina’s HP since before I was even on tumblr; I actually found them in those dark yesteryears when the only fandom interactions I had were on fanfiction.net.  Of such fame as Green Girl, which is an HP fic staple, and has also written a lot of wackier, crackier, and darker things than that.  If you don’t take yourself too seriously, I highly recommend many of their big HP works, though I imagine it’ll press some people’s buttons.  Colubrina’s work really does take up a corner of my mind whenever I’m in an HP mood, and will take up yours if you let it.

☆ all waiting is long, by shuofthewind on AO3, 149k ( @shu-of-the-wind on tumblr)

This is so well written that I can’t stop thinking about it.  It is occupying my mind when I lie awake at night, you know?  It’s one of those.  Hermione messes with something she probably shouldn’t have in Grimmauld Place, so when Sirius is sent through the Veil in the Department of Mysteries, she gets thrust into an alternate universe...in 1975.  Instead of handwaving it away, shuofthewind actually gets into the mechanics of it in a way that makes sense, to emphasize that hermione is never going home.  ever. The world she finds herself is shifted slightly to the left, quite a bit darker, but in a “the author is treating the idea of a society-wide conflict over blood purity much more seriously than JKR ever did” way, not a sensationalist way.  Now, Hermione has to grapple with all her grief at losing everyone she’s ever loved or known, the moral/ethical/magical implications of sharing what she knows about her future in an alternate world, and, you know, a goddamn war with people who want to murder her for being who she is.  This Hermione is smart, and she’s kind, and she’s powerful, and she’s making real friends.  If you hate JKR’s guts I’d go read this right now, because it delivers in all the ways she failed us.  It’s plotty, its got great world-building, and it pulls back the white curtain on the wizarding world to show you that, like real life, it’s multicultural and full of queer people...and the discrimination that comes with both.

shuofthewind write epics, mainly for the MCU, and I’ve read some of them a looooong time ago, so this fic kinda seemed out of left field for me but im SOOOO GLAD it exists.  If you want MCU fic you can sink your teeth into, go for it, but alas, they do not have any more HP fic (.......yet?)

Speak Now [+] Listen Now, by mrsfrizzle on AO3, 33k altogether

Harry reaches out to Remus for support because Umbridge is getting to him with her literal torture.  Remus, being a former professor, former mandatory reporter, person who loves Harry and has since he was born, and all around good man, tells Harry he has to tell someone, or Remus will.  It’s everything any adult looking back on that time in HP canon ever wanted, which is for an actual adult to say “what the fuck, those are literal chidlren” and then do something about it.  Then, a far more dangerous task: Harry trusts Remus enough to go to him about the Dursleys.  Harry and Remus’ relationship develops SO WELL, and there’s a bit of exploration about how Sirius may not exactly be guardian material, because he did in fact spend 12 years of his life getting tortured instead of growing up.  I think I’m actually going to go reread this right now, because it speaks to my id.

they do have some other HP fic which did not appeal to my hyperspecific wants, but may appeal to some of yours.  I think they’re also a published author, there should be a link on their profile page.

chase the stars, by Duskglass on AO3, 101k (@felix-duskglass on tumblr)

When Harry is five years old, a picture of him ends up in the Daily Prophet, and Sirius Black, Terror of Ministry Officials Touring Azkaban everywhere, gets a hold of that issue.  He then, in order: breaks out of Azkaban; crosses the countryside to Surrey; Finds Harry: Kidnaps Harry; Breaks Into Remus’ Apartment; starts processing (or maybe just acknowledging) his trauma from Azkaban, the war, and his childhood; and pines after Remus.  It’s a little plotty, and deals a lot (sometimes through flashbacks) with the specific awful things that happened to Sirius—largely because, after years in the constant presence of Dementors, those are nearly literally the only memories he has left.  It’s a wonder he’s got the strength to love Harry and Remus at all.  But then, maybe it isn’t.

This is a Very Serious Fic, but the rest of Duskglass’s HP work is actually just cracky enough to tickle your funny-bone, while still making you think “okay but why couldn’t we have done that in the first place.”

So!  That’s it for recs, for now.  These are all things I’ve found and read in the last month; if any of y’all are interested in my old HP recs, let me know and I can make a post for that, too.  While I’m still very conflicted about my choice of current fandom, I am not in ANY way conflicted about my taste in fic and authors.  Send these guys some love, read their fic if you’re so inclined, and leave some nice comments at the end of it.