#rated m

[steddieunderdogfics]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/43944516/chapters/110492859

No Upside Down AU: Call My Number (and Call Me Yours) by novacorpsrecruit

Call My Number (and Call Me Yours) by novacorpsrecruit

@novacorpsrecruit

Rating: Mature

53,663 words, 6/6 chapters

Archive Warning: Creator chose not to use

Tags: Alternate Universe - Firefighters, firefighter and dispatcher, Kid Fic, no upside down, minor buckingham, no beta good luck y'all

Summary

“Fire department is on the way. Stay on the line with me, okay?” A buzz of a radio came over the headset. “Fire station 3 responding.” “Damn,” Eddie whistled. Chrissy looked over at Eddie. “This guy’s voice is hot.” Chrissy’s eyes grew wide. The voice cleared his throat. “Just wait until you see my face. It’s not too bad either.” ------ Firefighter/Dispatcher AU based off of MardyArt's amazing artwork <3

Thanks for the rec!

This rec is a part of Theme Weekend. The theme this weekend is No Upside Down AUs.

Know a fic that deserves extra love? Submit through our asks or the submission box!

[searenbound]

I feel like being friends with Bakugou and stealing/wearing his clothes is a quick way to no longer be friends because his possessive ass will immediately jump from ‘they look good in my clothes’ to ‘mine’ and that’s how you end up in his bed in only his sweatshirt and legs draped over his shoulders

[vvenuspng]

birdie babe

[venus vs. colours: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6)..]

[thesweetnessofspring]

A little different version of "so after" and loosely inspired by Far From the Madding Crowd. Rated M and bordering E because..."so after."

Peeta's scarred hands work in the fireplace, arranging everything for the fire. First he situates the New Year log, taken from an oak tree in the woods, in the grate and places the kindling of pine needles on top. Peeta guides he singular flame of the match onto the kindling and it catches. I lean against the armrest of the couch, watching his lips pucker as he blows on the fire. Some of my own fire, left to nothing but embers, burns low and pleasant at the thought of the way those lips press to my forehead and cheek after a nightmare. And leads me to think of the night on a beach. As the fire in the hearth builds, the orange glow shadows his face, his hair appears golden with the light.

The fire reaches a steady crackle, lighting the room with its promise of a new year bringing better days. It's been just over a year since Prim's death and those days I was lost in my grief. And yet, ever so slowly, good has come. I make it a game, thinking of the good things that have happened this past year. Most are from Peeta, who first coaxed me from my empty days into the spring air and reminded me how flowers still grow.

I wait for Peeta to join me, so that I can burrow myself in his arms, my ear over his heartbeat. Yet he stays where he is, sitting back on his heels and staring at the fire. If his hands weren't flat against his thighs, I might suspect he was having a flashback, he's so far away from me.

"Peeta?" I ask. "Come sit by me."

He still stares at the fire, not moving toward me. "Does it bother you what people are saying about us?"

"What's that?" I ask. I hadn't noticed much. But then again, I don't bother with most people these days. Peeta doesn't, either, though he will go on walks and pass by the market that's popped up during the rebuild. He hears more than I do.

"That we're living as husband and wife," Peeta says. He turns his head to peek over at me, half of his face shadowed and cautious.

"I suppose we are. In our way."

We've shared our meals, kept each other company, and held hands since he came back. When I couldn't take sleeping alone anymore, I went into Peeta's bed. I'm surprised by how comfortable it feels to admit that what we have is almost like a marriage. Not since before my father's death have I ever thought I might be someone's wife.

"They don't mean it like that," Peeta says. "They're saying I'm taking your milk without paying for the goat."

It was an old saying, talked about with judging looks. The man for taking advantage of a woman without ensuring her proper legal protection. The woman for running the risk of having a fatherless child. When he found out Peeta and I were sharing a bed again, Dr. Aurelius encouraged me to take birth control and I could think of no reason to object. So even if Peeta were taking my milk as they say, it couldn't hurt me. Not in the way I worried about so much before.

I still flush at the thought of it, of the two of us naked and touching each other, of his lips on mine and his hands on my body. I clench my legs together at the thought.

"That's stupid," I say.

Peeta's cheeks turn dark in the firelight and he avoids looking at me. "I'm only saying what everyone else says. And of course, the idea of us—like that—it's stupid."

"I said they're stupid," I say. "Not us—"

I fluster and can't say the words. Only there's the thought again, the thought of olive skin to pink skin, scar to scar, and him inside of me, all over me. Tasting him again. Would he taste the same? Or sweeter this time, after so much bitterness?

"Not us what, Katniss?" Peeta asks quietly.

Our eyes connect and there's something burning brightly inside of me. Life. A warmth that I'd thought had long been extinguished, and yet persists despite all we've lost. What he means to me, the safety and goodness he brings to me, had never gone away. It only waited for this moment, when everything was right.

I slide from the couch and crawl to him on the floor. When I sit by his side, my back to the fire, it's just how it was at the beach. Only he hasn't even touched me yet and I'm craving him. So I lean in and kiss him, soft at first, as we brush off the last dust of distance between us, and then the kiss grows deeper and slows so we can savor it. Although I've kissed Peeta a thousand times before, and a couple made me want more, this feels like the first time. It's certainly the first time we've been able to kiss like this all on our own with no one watching. I want more, and he must, too, because our kisses build to crushing, breathless events.

At some point, I swing one leg around him so I'm on his lap and his hands are at the small of my back and I want, I need his skin on mine. So I break our kiss to pull my shirt over my head and then reach for his, too.

Once we're both topless, I cup his cheek to draw him into another kiss. His bare hand rests on my waist, then travels up to my breast. I tremble from the intensity of the feel of him there, of the way I need him more. My body seeks it, pressing down on his lap and finding him seeking me, too.

It's not enough. As much as I know we're on the right track, it's as if I'm smelling the food instead of tasting it. The motions only make me want more.

Peeta pulls back for a moment only to flip us so that I'm on my back parallel to the fire and he hovers over me, elbows holding him up. His curls cascade around his face as he peers down at me.

"Don't stop," I tell him, missing the contact more than anything.

The flames catch his eyes and he kisses all over my face and down my neck, my chest, my arms, my stomach and taking extra time where the scars run deepest, his tongue running along them. At my belly button he looks up at me and I hurriedly lift my hips up to slide off my pants. He moves back up to kiss me on the mouth, but I'm more aware of his hands gently tracing my underwear. I open my legs to his touch.

"This okay?" he asks, uncertainty in his words.

"Yes," I assure him and he moves more confidently in rubbing me over my underwear. It doesn't have that same spark as when I was on top of him, but I do like him touching me there. Then there's a place he finds and I jerk with a sharp pleasure and give a little cry.

"Right there?" he asks, going over the spot again.

"Yes!"

He swipes up and down and I whimper, biting my lip. Still, I need more. I put my hand on top of his and guide him beneath my underwear. When his fingers find my bare flesh over that spot, my whole body blazes with heat and I move my hips against his hand. Peeta's free hand cups himself, squeezing over his pants, his body shaking now. He's holding back, keeping himself hidden from me, as if we were still those kids in the arena. Me squeamish at the idea of seeing him completely naked, and him waiting for me to let him in, even though our lives depended on it. But we're not as we were before in the arena. The most obvious sign now is that I want to feel him, too.

I grab hold of him over his pants and for a second he falters where he rubs me, giving a short curse. That reaction makes me more responsive in turn. I lift my head up to kiss him and then make for his pants, first unbuttoning and then tugging them and his underwear down.

While Peeta untangles his bottoms from his prosthetic leg, I peel my damp underwear off and then we're naked together, both of us pausing to look from the other's bodies to making eye contact and swiftly looking away again. It hits us both what we're about to do, what we could do.

"We don't have to go further unless you're sure," Peeta says.

He's right. I know we could keep going the way that we have, with our easy routine and companionship for the rest of our lives. Neither of us will abandon the other. If we were going to, it would have happened long ago. Yet, even if we don't do this tonight, it's obvious we will in time. I don't think there is a single thing in the past that could have changed us coming to this point eventually.

"Come here," I say.

Peeta doesn't need telling twice. We take our time exploring each other, asking questions, trying things out. I almost feel foolish how little I know about my own body while Peeta gives more to guide me on, though he says he doesn't mind experimenting. Some things feel wonderful, others are just nice because Peeta is touching me. He takes it all in until he has me soaring from his caresses.

After Peeta asks if it's what I want and I confirm it, finally, we're joined. I'm breathless for a moment and there is a tightness that's uncomfortable at first, until I adjust to him. Peeta hovers above me, staying still, watching my face. When I make eye contact with him and nod, he begins to move. Our communication then is through our sounds of delight, quick kisses, the tilt of our bodies, quick affirmations, a cry of the other's name.

The fire dances beside us when Peeta brings a blanket over our naked skin and I'm in a haze of blissful sleep, making a pillow of his chest.

"Katniss?" he asks.

I hum to let him know I'm listening, so warm and happy the next words, said as soft and low as a baby bird's downy feather, take me by surprise.

"You love me. Real or not real?"

The question I've asked since after the berries myself, always in a muddle of confusion, comes to light like a spring morning. There is now, and for always, only one answer to give.

"Real."

[ladynoirfanao3]

Finally getting this on tumblr! Commissioned art by @_mazelwi_ on instagram from a scene in my first completed fic “The Power of Creation.”

Rated M, see the summary below. Also feel free to check out “Power of Destruction” which is from Adrien’s POV instead of Marinette’s

~~

Everyone knows that Ladybug's cure fixes everything after the destruction wrought by Shadow Moth's akumatized villains. After an akuma with an unfortunate power leaves Ladybug and Adrien in an awkward position, Marinette has never been happier to simply forget. However, she soon discovers that her miraculous ladybugs have a limitation on their curing ability: a limitation that puts her in a situation she never expected to be in.

[evanbuckleyrecs]

Buddie AUs over 20k

To catch up on recommending fics in my bookmarks, I'll also try to make some lists instead of posting one fic per post. Though some fics might also still get their own posts even while added in a list.

To start, here are some finished Buddie AUs with more than 20k words

(I made this list in March so it doesn't have any newer fics. Soon I want to spend a day dedicated to catching up to new fics and adding posts to my queue here)

what if you're someone I just want around by ReallySmartLadyMarieCurie

20k, Rated T

"Eddie pauses in his typing, glancing at Buck and trying to figure him out. He seems so eager to help and to please, so willing to take some of the burden in order to make others happy. It’s the sort of presence that Eddie’s been craving in his life. One that he’s missed since Shannon’s fatal accident. And he’s incredibly handsome. He’s got conventional good looks and a beautiful smile, but that pink little splotch above his eye, which Eddie guesses is a birthmark, is really what brings it home."

Or, Eddie Diaz is a successful boxer who's been making a big name for himself in recent years. Buck is a fan, but he certainly never expected to end up at Eddie's house after the man calls 9-1-1 when his son gets sick.

I love the way you spoil me, baby by rosebuddiekin

33,8K, rated E

“I, uh, I was actually at that coffee shop to meet with someone else. You see, for the past few years, I’ve been a sugar daddy on a site that connects people looking for similar things. I was supposed to meet with a prospective baby that day, but then I saw you. And I felt drawn to you, so I messaged the guy I was supposed to be seeing and told him I had to cancel. I just, I thought you should know. That I should be upfront about it from the start.”

Eddie’s fork drops to his plate, making a small clatter. He can feel that his mouth is agape. He’s very glad he hadn’t taken another bite or sip of anything while Buck spoke. Because what the actual fuck? Buck… is a sugar daddy.

OR: Buck is a sugar daddy who wants to spoil Eddie rotten and take care of everything for him. Eddie has never had that sort of relationship but is willing to give it a try. There is plenty of adventure along the way.

Sunny skies & summer high by prettyboybuckley

Sequel to a one shot, 43,8K, rated E


"Well, I kind of want to kiss you right now but that's usually something that happens at the end of a first date, right?" Buck asks, doing a weird movement with his eyebrows in an attempt to be funny.

Eddie chuckles, wrinkling his nose a little.

"I guess, yeah," he mutters. "Think we're doing this a little backward already anyway, so are there any rules to follow?"

He's got a point there, and even then Buck has never really been the kind of guy who follows rules, so he ends up leaning over the center console as he uses one hand to pull Eddie's face towards him. It's a short kiss, a simple peck hello that Eddie chases after when Buck pulls away again.

OR: Buck and Eddie sneak around behind Eddie’s family’s back, spend the summer together, smoke a lot of weed, and fall in love along the way

Kiss me before It's over (if only for a minute) by Bob_loblaws_lawblog

54,2K, Rated E

Evan Buckley is living out his childhood dream as the star hitter for the Philadelphia Phillies. He’s climbing the ranks, improving his stats with every single game – he’s unstoppable.

That is, until the Los Angeles Angels get a new pitcher seemingly out of nowhere. Known for his strong arm and tricky curve balls, Eddie Diaz is one of the few pitchers in the nation who consistently makes Buck strike out, and its infuriating. Even from the sixty feet that separate them between the batter’s box and the pitcher’s mound, the weight of Diaz’s gaze is enough to make Buck’s blood boil.

Because Buck doesn’t get nervous on game day, he never feels calmer than when he steps up to the plate with the bat in his hand – it’s where he belongs. But when he sees Eddie Diaz standing on that mound, his stomach flips and nerves spark across his skin.

Because if there is one thing Buck knows for sure, it is that he hates Eddie Diaz.

… Until he doesn’t.

Traded by princessfbi

23,7K, rated M

Really, it was Lena’s fault. She’d been the one to demand a video when Eddie had finally caved and sent an SOS to the group chat asking if anyone was willing to trade.

“Is anyone interested in trading jerseys with me? Preferably for a smaller size,” Eddie had said because knowing his coworkers, one of them would’ve been a smart ass and gave him an even bigger size. “I ordered an XL because I’m usually a XL but… the way it fits makes me look like I’m fucking one of the players.”

Eddie wasn't trying to go viral. He just wanted to trade his jersey. But then something called Booktok got involved.

Bartender!Eddie Diaz x Hockey Player!Evan Buckley

Snowed Inn by brewrosemilk

31,1K, rated M

Rivaling for a promotion, journalists Evan Buckley and Eddie Diaz get sent to a small town where they are each to write a piece on a once illustrious inn and its rich history. For two talented and overconfident authors, it sounds like an easy assignment - but in between a violent snowstorm, blocked roads, heated stares, and a struggling inn, Buck and Eddie may just have to abandon their rivalry and accept each other as partners.

Don't play games (come my way) by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels

43,1K, Rated E

Buck hates Eddie Diaz.

Ever since his publishing company and Eddie's merged, the man has been nothing but a pain in Buck's ass. The way he nitpicks all of Buck's company emails, the way he spends half his day bickering with Buck, the way he makes Buck's stomach flip and the way he's started haunting Buck's dreams... yeah, it's one hundred percent hate. Definitely. Buck's sure of it.

Because what the hell else could it be?

Falling slowly; sing your melody (I'll sing it loud) by princessfbi

55,3K, Rated E

Buck didn’t like him at first.

Eddie Diaz was all hard lines and strict rules with a bone structure that could cut through glass and scared away his fans. Which... if you asked Bobby, was the point but still!

He also yelled at Buck which was fine. It’s not like it hurt his feelings.

It didn’t.

It didn’t, Maddie!

It also definitely didn’t turn Buck on either. Nope.

Stop it, Maddie!

After a traumatizing home invasion, Bobby Nash decides to hire a bodyguard for his lead singer.

Musician!Buck Bodyguard!Eddie

More fics to be recommended soon!

[sizzlingtrashpanda]

Challenge - @jegulus-microfic - word count 466- rated - m

“This is so pointless,” exclaimed Regulus, rolling his eyes. “No, Reggie, it’s his dare, and he has to do it,” said Sirius. Regulus knew this was a bad idea, a failed attempt at a truce between the Slytherins and Gryffindor, especially when alcohol was involved. Drunk teenagers were strewn across various surfaces of the common room. Through the game, various couples had come to light, to everybody’s shock, and now most of them lay in each other’s arms. As the game continued, the bottle landed on James, who chose dare, and that was when Regulus had been betrayed by one of his own kind, Pandora, who had dared James to make Regulus say his first name out loud. “Yes! Regulus, I should at least get a fair chance,” said James, staring into Regulus’s eyes and reminding him of the night before. The gleam in his eyes suggested something that made Regulus feel shy to even think of. James slowly crossed the distance between them, coming to a stop only when he was mere inches from Regulus’s face. He then bent forward toward his ear. Regulus sat stoically still, holding his breath, as no one in the room knew about their relationship, and he feared that they would figure it out. He hoped James wouldn’t do something they might regret. “Baby, I promise I will ruin you so well tonight. I will fuck you so damn hard that you won’t just be saying my name but will be screaming it. I will drag you through it teasingly slow, making sure that you remember that you are mine every time you sit down for the next week….” whispered James in Regulus’s ear in a soft, husky voice. gasp “James…” Regulus couldn’t stop himself. He could already feel wetness between his legs at the mere words uttered by James, but when the reality of his promise hit him, he wanted to get up and get to it immediately. This was enough of an excuse for him to not focus on the game from there on.

A Few Hours Later

With everyone safely passed out on the couch or in their rooms, God knows doing what, Regulus was finally left alone with James, who was evidently on the same page as him. They left the common room in a hurry and silently crept into James’s dorm, which they then ensured to seal with locking and silencing charms. “I am not one to back down from a challenge, Reggie, remember that,” said James while getting off Regulus and bringing him close to his chest. Regulus couldn’t reply as his throat was sore from all the screaming and other extracurricular activities they had engaged in. Hence, it was safe to say Regulus Black, for the first time in his life, had been rendered speechless.

[porcelainmortal]

(No Longer a) WIP Wednesday

Thank you to everyone who hyped this fic and showed excitement for it. And happy birthday to me!! I thought I'd celebrate with a little Bartender!Alex (my beloved). Cheers!! 🥂

Thank you to everyone who hyped this along the way!

@iboatedhere @thesleepyskipper @stratocumulusperlucidus @caterpills @oldfarmwitch

@welcometololaland @getmehighonmagic @onthewaytosomewhere @cha-melodius @kiwiana-writes

@firenati0n @thinkof-england @blueeyedgrlwrites @priincebutt @hgejfmw-hgejhsf

@sparklepocalypse @rmd-writes @agame-writes @wordsofhoneydew @freyjaexplores

[trudemaethien]

not so much a fall as a dive

for @chocmarss for @smut-wars-exchange 2024

full image (rated M) on Ao3

[steddieunderdogfics]

Recommend the following fics (in no particular order as they are all great) for the werewolf challenge:

Can you keep a secret? by Piratefishmama

Hungry Like The Wolf by Beetlesandstars

Hunter's Moon by Mourningshowers

Bark At The Moon by Rock_n_roads

Safe Haven by sidekick_hero

Of Wolf and Man by Thisapplepielife

Hungry Like The Wolf by beetlesandstars

@beetlesandstarss

Rating: Mature

10,415 words, 1/1 chapters

Archive Warning: No Warnings

Tags: Werewolf Steve Harrington, Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence, Blood and Injury, Vomiting, Gay Eddie Munson, Bisexual Steve Harrington, First Kiss, Sharing a Bed, Feelings Realization, Coming Out, Confessions

Summary

“Are you a manifestation of my subconscious?” Eddie asks, tentatively shuffling closer to the wolf. He sways a little, stage-whispering, “What are you trying to tell me?” He knows the pills he took were strong but, well - he didn’t think they were ‘hallucinate a giant dog’ strong. (Or, the one where Steve turns into a wolf and befriends Eddie Munson.)

Thanks for the rec!

This rec is a part of Theme Weekend. The theme this weekend is Werewolf AU.

Know a fic that deserves extra love? Submit through our asks or the submission box!

[poppy5991]

Enji is a 21 year old hotshot hero who is tirelessly working his way up the hero rankings with the goal of becoming number one.

Except, yesterday he was 46.

When their boss is a victim of a de-aging quirk and loses his memories in the process, the Endeavor agency employees beg Hawks to house him until it wears off. Hopefully, Hawks doesn’t lose his sanity in the meantime.

———

This was fun to write, so I hope you have fun reading.

[tomionefinds]

Hi, do you have recs that Tom fall first? Thank youu♥

Hello 💕 here’s a few recs ~AprilRose

Inimica, Amator by QueenOfTheDreamers87

M | Complete | 74k

Hermione falls asleep in January 2000. She awakens in a Knockturn Alley flat in 1947. Confronted by the reality that she's been hurtled through time and space to the world of Tom Riddle himself, Hermione works to get back home. In the meantime, desperate for money, she takes a job at the only place willing to hire her - Borgin and Burkes, with the disarmingly charming Tom Riddle.

Veal & Venison by Patagonian

M | Complete | 136k

Perhaps it was the cruel mistreatment of Tom Marvolo Riddle as a child, or maybe it was the bloodline of Slytherin's heir himself that made the boy into the 'monster' who cannot be named. Or, perhaps it was simply because he did not know that his heart would beat in such a frenzy, that his cheeks would redden like a crimson rose, and that his normally-calm facade would melt under the simple gaze of the time-travelling heroine. If I were to bet, I'd say it's the latter.

But it matters not why Voldemort could not love, for this is not a story about Voldemort. This is the story of Tom Marvolo Riddle, and how he came into direct conflict and company with the 'brightest witch of her age' ... fifty-years ahead. This is the story of love's recognition, in which the force does not suddenly develop between two people, but a poignant emotion, different for each individual, is uniquely described to be 'love.' Maybe Tom Riddle never loved, much like that of Voldemort. However, as one chooses to stubbornly believe, love existed for Tom Marvolo Riddle as long as he chose to believe that he loved Hermione Jean Granger.

Birds of a Feather by babylonsheep

M | WIP | 563k

In 1935, Hermione Granger meets a boy in an orphanage who despises fairy stories, liars, and mediocrity. He offers her a deal of mutual convenience, and soon a tentative friendship forms between them—if Tom would ever lower himself to call anyone a "friend". But whatever they have, it's something special, and if there's anyone who can appreciate Specialness, it's Tom Riddle.

gloss by peppershark

E | Complete | 93k

Hermione.” That low, effortless bass thrums in her ear.

Coaxing.

Sweet as novocaine.

“I wanted to explain.”

Her glossy lips peel into a sneer.

“Fuck off.”

[searenbound]

Do you think Sakura gets all embarrassed and guilty feeling when he masturbates to the thought of his crush?

Like he isn’t a pervert, he’s just really into them and he tries to ignore it because he’s not good with that sort of thing, but he’s still just a man. He can’t help it if the image of them in that little skirt they wore stays in the back of his head and comes up when he’s alone in his room.

Can’t help it if he remembers how short it was and the fact that if they weren’t wearing shorts underneath he could’ve seen their panties and soon enough and without his permission his thoughts wander to what type they wear. If it’s plain and simple and cute, or if it’s frilly with ribbons and lace and…

He doesn’t mean too, he swears he doesn’t usually care about this sort of stuff, but his hand winds up around his cock and a strangled groan is leaving his lips.

The next time he sees them he can’t even look at them without going red and if everyone keeps teasing him about his face he’s going to beat them all to death.

[rattycattyfanfic]

red flags and long nights

Pairing: Amanda Young/Lynn Denlon Rated: M Words: 15,690

Lynn stares down at the littering of cigarette butts, at least three or four cartons worth at this point, and sighs. “This is pretty sad, you know that?” she says, exasperated, world-weary.

Amanda had expected her to be scared, and she doesn’t know what to do with this calm tiredness. Everyone is always scared of her, and she loves it that way. Lynn stares back up at her, though, unwavering, and she feels strange under her gaze. “Fuck off,” she bites out.

or, the one where Amanda is a vampire and Lynn is her unhealthy human fixation.

Read on AO3

tws for murder of unnamed side characters, vampire-typical blood & gore, violence, stalking/voyeurism, wine mom alcoholism, talk of grief/trauma/depression, blood-drinking, biting, bloody vampire fucking.

[belatinysun]

🌻 As Long as We're Here (Estaremos Mais do que Bem) 🪻

🌻 for: @littlegnoblin

🪻 Brazil Arc ❀ Rio Olympics 2016 ❀ Domestic Fluff

🌻 Rated M ❀ 10,9k ❀ HinaKage

🪻 Shoyo revisits the same place he saw Tobio on TV years ago and reflects on their current relationship

🖇️: Read it Here!!

[rockingrobin69]

Reaching

“Warm, isn’t it,” Malfoy tugged at his collar with half a glance in Harry’s direction. Unnecessary; Harry’s eyes were already glued to him, the impossibly long column of his neck. Pale and glistening like an ice sculpture. Unreachable. “Is something the matter?”

“Hmm?”

Malfoy didn’t dignify that with a response. Leaned closer, one eyebrow hiking—and the haze in Harry’s mind was entirely due to alcohol, thank you very much, and the heat pooling in his belly to do with the club’s oppressive air. Not the tilt of Malfoy’s lips, parted and lovely pink, or his obscenely tight excuse for trousers Harry’s hands kept twitching towards. Definitely wasn’t the little huff of air he let out: ah, just like that, like a promise or a threat.

“Boring,” he said. Took a moment for Harry’s brain to catch up.

“What?”

“Don’t be boring. Dance with me.” Hands coming to rest on Harry’s thighs—when did Malfoy get up? Was he always standing so close? Did he always smell like smoke and sweat and something tangy and sharp—

And the movement, undulating hips against Harry’s legs, head thrown back, throat bared for Harry to—dancing, maybe, grinding to the beat of the music Harry could only barely hear. Couldn’t, think, couldn’t, breathe—his hands firm around Malfoy’s waist, instinctively holding down, crushing closer. Closer, Malfoy hard against him, then this laughter cascading down his entire body.

“Oh,” Malfoy huffed, mad and so close Harry’s mind was melting. “Oh, fuck, you’re—” panting in Harry’s face, eyes blown wide.

“Yeah?” only to hear his voice like that again. Ragged raw.

“You’re everywhere,” the way he blinked, and blinked, tongue darting to wet his lips. Half-unravelled, from this, from nothing. Harry felt lightheaded, drunk on the revelation, fingers still tightening, bruising into his hipbone.

Swallowed a silly spike of fear. With a growl, pulling Malfoy’s head down so their noses were level. Mindlessly brushing a thumb down his bottom lip, delighted to find it cool to the touch. Malfoy’s tongue came out again, a hint of a lick, with that look in his eyes. Harry’s mind snapped.

Kissing him became the only objective. Those little ah, ahs Harry swallowed greedily, forgetting they were in public, forgetting, fuck, Ron and Nev at the bar, forgetting to breathe when Malfoy basically climbed in his lap, pushing his head so far back it ached. Everything did, a little: sparkled, and ached, and burned.

“Come back to my place,” Harry managed to say, commanding and begging into Malfoy’s mouth. “Come home with me.”

Malfoy laughed, a low sound. “Ah,” half-intentional this time. “Not so boring after all.”

Something absurd rushed through him, warm and pinching like affection. “No,” Harry agreed, and traced the sharp line of Malfoy’s jaw. “Not so boring.”

He melted in his arms—kept melting all night long. Harry deliriously lapped him up, and those ah, ahs, and the column of his neck, blooming red and purple under Harry’s careful tongue, reachable and all his.  

(Flufftober day 12. Find the soft AO3 collection here).