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myjungkookthighs · 1 month ago

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MY FAVORITE JUNGKOOK FANFICS & RECOMMENDATIONS PART1 ✮⋆˙────────୨ৎ───────˙⋆✮

My first lists! These from my favorites JJK fics writers and how amazing their works and most of the fics are top-notch and i really recommend y'all to read it and show some love to their works!! 💗 ( Most of the fics are 🔞+ ) @myjungkookthighs

♥︎— NEEDY | Part 1, Part 2 by @girlygguk ( I'm going to say i love all of my baby lyssa's works she's an amazing writer that i adored so much. All her fics like a drugs to me , top-notch! lol)

nerd!jk x cheerleader!(f)reader

hiding his feelings when you didn’t even know his name was hard. hiding his neediness and obsession when you finally did know his name and you were his fucking girlfriend? impossible. well, then it's a good thing you like him needy.

♥︎—FIRST CLASS | Part 1 by @girlygguk ( chef kiss🤌)

rich student!jk x (f)rich student!reader

in which you are just another spoiled, bitchy, annoyingly gorgeous trust-fund baby who has everyone at Yonsei University eating from the palm of your hand. and jeon jungkook, your spoiled, fuck-boy, annoyingly gorgeous trust-fund baby best friend, is always first in line to take a bite.

♥︎—CRAZY | Part 1, Part2 by @girlygguk (addicted like a mad person)

ceo!jk x employee!(f)reader

you know it sounds twisted. that most people would see hyungwon as the perfect boyfriend. healthy, balanced, all the things that relationships should be. that’s when you realized... you weren't like most people. but that's okay. because neither is jungkook.

♥︎—HABITS (STAY HIGH) | Part1 by @girlygguk

student plug!jk x rich girl!reader

You9:06 PM do you be 🙄’ing other bitches yes or no

♥︎—BAD THINGS | Part 1 by @girlygguk

jock fuckboy!jk x nerdy fuckgirl!reader

getting jealous, sending mixed signals, simping for a gorgeous geek who has no idea what effect she has on him... it's just what jungkook does best. oh, and football. he's really good at football.

♥︎—DENIAL | Part1, Part2 by @girlygguk

idol!jk x (f)actress!reader

it's been a plethora of secret meetups, quickies in the bathrooms of his award shows, and 2 am 'you up?' texts during your year-long situationship with jungkook. you both agreed in the beginning that your careers are far too hectic to commit to anything serious, but you can't shake the shitty ache in your chest every time the high wears off, or when you're crawling out of his bed in the middle of the night. trying to exile the shitty feeling of longing that you harbor for him, you spend time with another one of your guy friends. jungkook sees, and he's ma

♥︎— BETWEEN THE RIDE AND THE ROSES (series) by @focusonkayjay

biker!Jk x flower shop owner!Reader

There's an insane turn of events when your calm and peaceful life is intruded by Jungkook, a biker boy who sets up his loud business right next to your own. Your paths cross under unlikely circumstances, starting with a clash of personalities but gradually you find yourself establishing a deeper connection with the annoyingly attractive biker jerk. You both have no idea what's in store for you guys as you try your best to put up with each other.

♥︎— FRIENDS WITHIN TOUCHING DISTANCE (series)by @dailynnt (Shout out to my love, her fic so amazing !!)

Best friend!Jungkook x Fem!Reader fwb!

What happens when two best friends try to get along under the same roof? You've been living with Jungkook for three months now, but your cohabitation is still a challenge for you. He continues to live like a real bachelor without following the rules you agreed upon from the beginning of your decision to live together. Should you find a compromise or should you find a new place to live?

♥︎—OLDER by @lovieku

dilf!jk x inexperienced!fem reader (i'm sucker for older or dilf jk!😭)

you��ve tried, but you can’t help yourself from crushing on your best friend’s dad. hot, buff, tatted up and successful, mr. jeon is the starring actor in all of your wettest dreams. and as you wake up from one while sleeping over at his house after his daughter’s birthday party, you don’t expect all of them to suddenly come true. but they do.

♥︎—HANDS ON ME by @lovieku

nerd!jk x popular!fem reader

it’s about to look like jeongguk’s birthday everyday with you.

♥︎—OBVIOUS by @lovieku

bookstore employee!jk x virgin!fem reader

you lose your virginity to jeongguk, the only boy you’d ever trust with such weight. and what you both feel for each other couldn’t be more obvious.

♥︎— GUYS MY AGE (one-shot) Drabble 1, Drabble 2 ,by @kooktrash

dilf jk x female college student!y/n [she/her] ( i had read 3 times cuz i'm sucker of it bcs IT'S CHEF KISS🤌)

a summer spent at your friend’s place wasn’t something to be anything to look forward to. her hot, young dad would seem to change that for you when you decide a game of teasing would suffice your boredom. you got more than you bargained for when you realize he’s not a fan of games.

♥︎— INFRUNAMI by @kooktrash

friends to lovers. y/n[afab, she/her] x best friend jungkook

you’ve made great friends throughout the years but none like jeon jungkook. he’s there for you when you need him and although at times when things get complicated between your feelings and thoughts… there’s one thing for certain. you both have been wasting time acting like there’s nothing between you.

♥︎— DEPEND ON ME by @kooktrash

Hybridbunnygirl!reader x human!jungkook

you’re so used to letting Jungkook do everything for you. he babies you almost and you’re both constantly reminded of the strangeness in your friendship. you’ve always loved him but he can’t see you as anything but the little bunny girl he used to protect. you change his mind

♥︎— NEVER AGAIN by @kooktrash

neighbor!jk x Reader

jeon jungkook is just your nosy neighbor who can’t seem to be anything less than a selfish, heart breaking, prick in your eyes. yet somehow he manages to wiggle his way into your life but is it enough for him to change your mind or will he prove your judgements right?

♥︎—MY DEAR FRIEND by @kooktrash

friends!jk x experienced!reader, f2l ( about a few day need to moved on from this fic)

just friends? keep telling yourself that, you and Jungkook have always danced on the line of friendship and something more but lately you’ve struggled being able to tell where you guys stand.

♥︎— BUNNY ADVENTURES by @kooktrash

hybrid!Jungkook x human!reader

you had absolutely no intentions of ever owning a hybrid until jungkook came along. a mistreated, misunderstood rabbit hybrid who’d only ever wanted was to be treated like an equal.

♥︎— RISQUE (series) by @mercurygguk

older!jk x reader age gap au (my all time favorite 😭)

in which jungkook struggles to keep his relationship with you strictly appropriate and it’s not like you’re making it easy for him.

♥︎— THE DILF INSTALLMENTS (series) by @mercurygguk

dad!jungkook x f. reader

this series follows jungkook’s life as a divorced father. but wait, how exactly does one balance being a father, a boyfriend, a friend, and a respectable boss at the same time? read the installments below to find out!

♥︎— THE ART OF (DILF JK SERIES) by @venusiangguk

dilf jk x grocery store clerk reader ( never over this bcs it's cute 🤧)

you find a baby in your store and in turn, a dilf finds you

♥︎— ONLY WHEN IT'S US (series) by @luvismenu

Uni! Jungkook x Fem Reader Strangers to??

you both say it’s nothing serious, but with every touch and argument, it gets harder to stay away.

♥︎— STARBOY (series)by @luvismenu

popular classmate!jungkook x class president!reader

everyone assumes you two can't stand each other, but is that really true?

♥︎—BED CHEM (Mini Series) by @muniimyg

Uni student!Jungkook x uni Student! Reader Frenemies to lovers!

after overhearing jungkook fuck someone else; you can’t help but want out of being his frenemy

♥︎— BABYDADDY!JK (series) by @muniimyg

ex!au jungkook x ex!reader

Co- parenting

♥︎—ITBOYFRIEND!JUNGKOOK | (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) by @muniimyg

ITbf!Jk x Fem Reader

♥︎—JUST TAKE IT (series) by @ahgasegotarmy116

Inexperienced f!reader x Best Friend's Dad Jungkook (20 year age gap) dilf! jk

A turn of events has the people you thought you trusted stabbing you in the back and leaving you broken hearted and betrayed. Who knew though that sometimes things just happen for a reason

♥︎—BANG-ABLE (mini one-shot/drabble) by @ahgasegotarmy116

f!reader x Sex Bot Jungkook (I'm obsessed!! 😭)

You've been single for way too long and you're done with causal sex and all the drama that comes along with it...so why not try something new?

♥︎— DEEP SIX (mini series) by @bratkook but i read on AO3

biker!jk x reader

It’s like a stranger had a key, came inside of my mind and moved all my things around. He didn’t know snakes can hear the prey, can’t try to break the psyche down.

♥︎— CHAMPANGE CONFFETI by @margotw10bis

boyfriend!Jungkook x camgirl!reader

Your boyfriend loves watching you on live but his whole mood changes when he reads one specific comment from one of your fans

♥︎— PARADISE (series) by @minisugakoobies i read on AO3

Stripper!Jungkook x Reader (my absolute favorite!😭)

That sexy man on stage - the one currently giving your friend the lap dance of her LIFE - is your super shy neighbor, Jeon Jungkook?!

♥︎— THE PINK PILL -"3 DAYS" by @dollfaceksj

best friend!jungkook x fem!reader (top-notch!i read twice😭)

In each of these universes, you find yourself consuming what is known as the pink pill. This pill is essentially a drug that enhances your libido to the max and you’ll quite literally never experience arousal like you do when you’ve taken this pill. Thankfully, in each universe, there’s a man that’s ready to help you explore and reach your peak of sexual euphoria.

♥︎— THE WEEKEND by @chryblossomjjk

dilf!jk x babysitter reader ( the best thing ever! 😭)

every weekend, you give jungkook a little taste of something he’s missing monday through friday.

♥︎—SUGARPLUM ELERGY by @bymoonchild

College!Jungkook x Reader , fwb (i can't let go of this story top-notch)

You know no bounds nor depth with Jungkook. While your fuck buddy loves sleeping in your bed and doing laundry for you with his favourite fabric softener, you are in love with a mysterious honeyed, velvety voice on Soundcloud. All’s fine, until you find out that the voice that metaphors your heart to a sweet sugarplum melody actually belongs to the boy who has been taking up a special spot in your bed and in your heart, strumming at your heartstrings all this while. Or, Jungkook has one braincell, but it’s heart-shaped.

♥︎— MICROWAVE (MIS)ADVENTURE by @bymoonchild

housemate!Jungkook x Reader

Out of all things to be afraid of, Jungkook, the seat-stealer of your 8am class and annoying housemate whom you despise with every fiber of your being, chooses to have a phobia of microwaves, but he loves buying microwaveable food – because come on, they’re irresistible – and you somehow find yourself getting dragged into his microwaves (mis)adventures. Cue chaos, sarcasm-laced banter and an unplanned romance.

♥︎— COLD NIGHTS AND BLURRED LINES| WARM NIGHTS & CLEAR LINES| cnbldrabbles by @awrkive

basketball!jungkook x nerdy!(fem) reader,fwb (i'm crazy over this 😭)

jungkook and you have been in a sexual relationship with each other for four months now, and it’s casual for the most part. but as time passes, you can’t help but feel that some of the lines suddenly got blurred in the process. is it a cliché to blur the lines with your fuck buddy? it definitely is. will you do something about it? both of your emotional constipation have a hard time saying yes.

♥︎—CAN'T LET IT GO (part 1)| PHYSICALLY OBSESSED(part2) by @chunghasweetie

dom!oc x nerdysub!jjk

loser nerd jk has crushed on her for years and is assigned to be her college tutor for her calculus class. studying doesn’t go exactly as planned and he ends up losing his virginity in the best way possible.

oc finally cuffs jk and they celebrate

♥︎— HE GIVE IT TO ME (Part1) | WONT TOUCH YOU LIKE ME (Part2)by @chunghasweetie

fem!oc x dealer!jjk

always giving out free shit to his favorite customer.

after a petty argument jungkook spots you showing out at a party with the hosts arm around your waist.

♥︎— MERAKI by @taegularities

grumpy!Jk x sunshine!reader

Jungkook finds you irritating; far too energetic and insistent. But his perception of you changes bit by bit, minute by minute, when he's persuaded into spending an entire night with you at places he doesn't know.

♥︎—NO NUT NOVEMBER by @2hightocare

dilf!jungkook x fem!reader

Jungkook didn’t think stuff through when he made a bet for “No Nut November” he seemed to forget that he can’t say no to you.

♥︎— FOR ME (DILF!JK DRABBLES COLLECTION ) by @personasintro

dilf!jungkook x reader

A collection of drabbles accompanied with dilf!jk

♥︎— BURNING HOUR by @jungqkook

Richbf!jk x gf!reader (you gonna need holy water later lmao!)

there’s nothing better than spending an entire day at your boyfriend’s yatch, tanning and waiting for the sunset with a drink in your hand… too bad your boyfriend had other plans for you.

♥︎—BETTER BOYFRIEND THAN HIM by @jungqkook

friend!Jk x reader

jungkook makes it a mission to prove to you that he can be better than your boring boyfriend. when it comes to sex, at least.

♥︎— FIGHT FOR YOU (series) by @ahundredtimesover

bodyguard!jk x heiress!reader

Working at a private security agency has its perks. The downside? Being the personal bodyguard of spoiled, rich heiresses like you. But there are things that Jungkook didn’t expect, like rejecting you, falling for you, and realizing what he’d been missing all along.

♥︎— GUARDED by @junghelioseok

bodyguard!Jk x Reader

❛❛ good girl. ❜❜ ❛❛ don’t get shy on me now. ❜❜

♥︎—BODYGUARD by @sxtaep

bodyguard!jk, idol!reader

when you’re stuck in a near-death situation, your high school crush, now your bodyguard, begins to regret ever rejecting you 5 years ago.

♥︎—STRIKE THREE by @avveh (ao3)

Bodyguark!jk x Bratty!Reader ( i'm obsessed!)

When discipline and chaos meet, one will always rise to the top.

♥︎— EVERYTHING IN YOU |Part1, Part2 , DRABBLE1, DRABBLE 2, DRABBLE 3 by @jjungkookislife

roommate!sperm donor Jk x pregnant! Reader (my favorite iso cute)

You want a baby and Jungkook is willing to help

♥︎— BABYMAKER by @badbtssmut

bestfriend!Jk x Reader

You want a baby, but you just broke up with your boyfriend but your best friend Jungkook offers you the solution to your heart break, he’ll give you your baby, no strings attached.

♥︎— SPECIAL PREPARATION by @badbtssmut

Piercer!Jungkook x Reader

You go to a piercing shop to get a clit piercing but your piercer Jungkook has an interesting way of prepping his clients.

─────────────────────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆───────────────────

Actually i like all Miss Cherry @redcherrykook fics and i read them all and her works always the bomb never disappointed me and here i will share my most favorites from her🤪💗

♥︎— SAFEWORD

daddy!jungkook and sub oc

♥︎—SPOT ME INSTEAD

gymrat!JK x gymrat!reader

♥︎—MIDNIGHT SNACK

idol!Jk x gf!Reader

♥︎—MILK AND CREAM

sub!JKx noona!Reader

♥︎—BAD BOY,GOOD GIRL/HIGHSCHOOL SWEET

highschool sweethearts!jk x Reader

♥︎— (TENT)ATIVE ENEMIES

friendnemie!Jk x Reader

♥︎— Kinktober D1-SOMNOPHILLIA

needy JK x reader

♥︎—Kinktober D8- OFFICER PLAYS & CUFFS

roleplay!!JKx bad girl oc

♥︎—Kinktober D10- SPANKING & PUNISHING

DADDY KINK JK! x sub oc

♥︎—Kinktober D12- MIRROR SEX

idol bf! Jk x gf! Reader

♥︎—Kinktober D16- MARKING

possessive bf! JK x Reader

♥︎—Kinktober D19- DACRYPHILLIA (crying kink)

Daddy! Jk x Crybaby! reader

♥︎—Kinktober D22- EXHIBITIONISM

bf!jk x gf reader

by @redcherrykook

That's it for part1 !

2K notes · View notes

coldfanbou · 2 months ago

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Fair is Fair

We get to learn a little bit about Mina in this fic. Turns out she's a little needy.

Length 2.3K

Mina X Mreader

Previous Part

Once Chaeyoung had left your home, you lay on the couch, wanting nothing more than to relax when your phone began vibrating. It was a series of messages. “Why did Momo get a turn?” was the first one that got your attention. You wonder who would know about your night with Momo and Jihyo. Curiosity gets the best of you, and you open your messages. You scroll to the top and realize it’s Mina messaging you. The rest of her messages were her complaints about being left out.

“I’m not the one that decided that,” you reply.

“Well, I want a turn; it’s been so long since I’ve been with someone.” She texts back before she begins calling your phone. You pick up the phone and instantly hear Mina's voice come through, “It’s not fair that Momo gets to have fun with you. We share everything, and she shouldn’t be able to have fun with you alone.” she repeats, her voice high. Mina’s whines were odd to you. From the small amount of time you had spent together, she had acted much more like a lady, so her complaining like a bratty child was weird, for lack of a better word.

“Mina, things just happened. What do you want me to do about it.”

“Tonight, you and I are going out, no ifs, ands, or buts.”

“Mina,”

“No, we’re going out.” Mina whines, the soft pounding of something heard in the background. On the other side of the phone, Mina kicked her feet against her bed, cheeks full of air as she pouted. “I want to go out tonight, and then we can spend the night at your place. Chaeyoung got to fuck you last night, why can’t I?” You question the last part, your mind working slowly until you figure out that the friend Chaeyoung had been talking about was, in fact, Mina. “Chaeyoung was showing us pictures last night, and I couldn’t believe it was you. I want my turn now!” She whined, kicking her feet again.

You reluctantly agree, too tired to put up a fight. “Alright, fine, but you plan the date.”

“Really?” Mina almost shouts, the glee in her voice ringing out.

“Yes, give me the details, and I’ll meet you there.” You were already tired of the situation. You place your phone on the coffee table before shutting your eyes.

When you wake up from your short nap you have several messages on your phone from Mina, including the time and place for your date. You check the clock and realize there isn’t much time left. You get yourself ready, already regretting giving in to Mina so easily. You head to the address Mina had sent you. Arriving at the address, you double-check to make sure it’s the right place. You question Mina’s choice of a Lego cafe, but soon enough, you see her arrive, standing outside the cafe and typing something out on her phone. Your phone buzzes a second later, “Where are you?”

“Okay, guess this is the right place.” You say to yourself before getting out of the car. You walk up to Mina, who smiles when she sees you. She’s dressed casually, wearing oversized jeans and a hoodie.

“Let’s go!” Mina says, taking your hand and heading inside, grabbing a table for the two of you.

“What kind of place is this Mina?”

“It’s a Lego cafe,” Mina says, stating the obvious.

“I know that, but why here? Why have the date here?”

“It’s fun,” Mina says, pulling out a set of legos from under her sweater. You feel like you’re in another world as Mina begins playing with the set. Looking at the box, you see it’s a car she’s building. You’re more confused than anything else; you never would have thought Mina would be interested in something like this. Seeing her pull a box set from under her sweater was another can of worms in and out of itself. You watch the young woman smile to herself as she puts the pieces together. It was cute, almost innocent. You feel out of place as she continues to build the car. “We’ll get you a set,” Mina says without looking up at you.

As the waiter comes around, Mina takes charge, ordering coffee for both of you and a Lego set for you to work on. You sighed briefly, “I didn’t expect this would be our date. I thought you’d want to do something else.” You pick at the set Mina had chosen for you; it was a set of flowers, something simple.

You build your set while watching Mina work on hers, “Do you do this often?”

She nods, focusing intently on the tiny stickers she had to place on the Lego pieces. “Yeah, I think it’s fun building these sets. Most guys don’t really like it, though; they think it’s childish.”

“It kind of is, but if you enjoy it, you should be able to share that.” You reply as you look through the instructions. “If they don’t like it and don’t want to date you because of it, that’s their problem.” Mina glances up from her set, looking at you before continuing to build it.

“Thanks,” she murmurs. “It’s peaceful building these,” Mina pauses as the coffee arrives, taking her time to sip from the hot cup before returning to her build.

“I thought you would just want to get straight to business. Not go on a date first.”

“I-well, I thought it would be rude to go to your house and do it.” Mina stammers, “I thought this would be better; besides, I wanted to build this set. I’ve had it for a month.” Mina says, trying to give another reason for the date. She hoped you wouldn’t see the price tag on the box. She had bought the Lego set before coming here. After your call with her had ended, she got flustered and went out to buy it.

“So what else do you like?”

“Games, video games,” Mina says, drawing out another question from you. “I like Minecraft; it’s a lot like Legos. I like building things more than going on adventures.” You nod along and continue asking Mina questions about herself. She slowly grows more comfortable as the date goes on, and once she finishes her build and you finish yours, the two of you decide to leave.

Mina places her little car in the back seat, with your plant, staring at them as you drive home, hoping nothing happens to them.

As you arrive in the parking lot, Mina slips a pill into her mouth and swallows it, preparing herself for a long evening. The effects are immediate as she feels her body begin to heat up. Walking to the door, Mina grows anxious, her body growing needy.

Reaching the door, Mina throws herself at you, wrapping her arms around your neck as she presses her lips against yours. “Let’s get started,” You struggle to open the door but eventually manage it, moving inside with Mina. She grabs your hands, moving them under her sweater. You feel her toned stomach as she drags your arms up her body until you reach her modest chest. Mina cranes her neck, letting you mark her body with hickeys as you lead her to the bedroom. Mina’s nipples rub against the palm of your hand, and she lets out a light moan as you squeeze her breasts. You push the door open and place Mina on the bed. You pull the hoodie off her before continuing to mark her body, her moans growing louder as you tease her nipples. Mina holds you against her chest, wanting to keep you there forever as you begin tugging at her jeans.

Mina grabs your hands, stopping your advance. When you look up at her, her eyes are already on yours. “Before we keep going, I want to tell you something, but you have to promise not to tell anyone else.”

“Okay, I promise,” You state to her, staring into her eyes and creating a sense of trust.

“Momo doesn’t know about this, but…” Mina’s face becomes flushed as she struggles to finish her sentence. “Can I call you Daddy? I like it better this way; please take the lead.”

For the second time today, Mina stunned you. “Uhm, sure, that’s fine.” This version of Mina was a lot different from the woman you had sex with a couple of weeks ago. Whereas when she was drunk, she degraded herself, Mina seemed more soft when she was sober. Mina giggles as she unbuttons her jeans and lets you pull them off. You become distracted, thinking to yourself how Mina has been the opposite of what you expected of her as she reaches down and rubs your bulge.

“You’re so big,” Mina whispers, “Can I see it, Daddy?” You nod and lay back on the bed, letting Mina pull your pants off you; she slowly moves her head over your crotch, her long fingers pulling at your underwear. A smile creeps onto Mina as she tugs at your underwear, and your cock flops out. She grasps it gently, her hand moving along it slowly.

“Keep going, Mina, that feels good.” You groan.

The young woman drips her saliva onto your cock, spreading it out as she runs her hand along her shaft. “I want you, Daddy, in here.” She says, placing her other hand on her stomach. Mina stares into your eyes as she strokes your cock, her body growing hotter as she becomes more eager to move on. Mina flashes her gummy smile as she uses both hands to stroke your cock, rubbing the tip with the palm of one as the other runs along your shaft. You groan Mina’s name, the pleasure flowing through you as she leans down and kisses the tip. Mina smiles after, feeling shy.

“Mina, I want you.” The young woman’s heart skips a beat after hearing your order. She straddles you, rubbing her lips along your cock and moaning as she prepares herself. The heat coming from your cock, makes Mina want more. She doesn’t wait long before lifting herself and rubbing the tip between her folds. Light moans escape Mina’s lips as she slowly sinks onto your cock, her walls squeezing your shaft as she slips more into her cunt. Mina places her hands on your chest as she begins to feel full.

Mina rides you, her hips rocking back and forth as she leans back. “You’re so big,” she groans. The young woman bites her lip as she moves up and down your shaft, slowly putting more force into her bounce as she takes every inch inside her. “Mmm, Daddy,” Mina moans, her strength slowly leaving her body, leaving you to thrust into her. You roll Mina onto her back and lift her lower half, continuing to thrust into her. Mina’s moans only get louder; she grips the bedsheets, getting closer to cumming. She wraps her arms around you, holding you tightly as you ram more of your length inside her. “D-daddy, you’re so deep,” she whines, her legs wrapping around you. You kiss Mina’s neck and listen to her whimpers. Your hands grip the back of her thighs; they quiver as you push Mina closer to her climax.

“Cum for me, baby. Cum for Daddy,” you growl in a low voice. Mina’s body tenses, and she cries out as she cums. You continue thrusting into her tightening cunt, driving Mina mad. She continues to moan, “Daddy, wait!” She whines, her body becoming overrun by the pleasure.

“I’m going to cum, Mina,” you groan.

“I want Daddy’s cum. I want it inside me,” Mina moans, the pleasure breaking her as she feels your cock throbbing inside her. As you're about to cum you bury yourself inside Mina, your cum pouring into her cunt. “Oh, Daddy, more,” Mina moans. You kiss the young woman, shutting her up for a moment as you enjoy her body, her cunt milking you.

“Does my baby want more?” You ask, running your finger between Mina’s tits.

“Yes, Daddy. Please give me more,” Mina says, biting her fingertip as she uses her other hand to spread her lips. “Please fuck me again, Daddy.” The sight of your seed leaking out of her cunt gets you hard again, and you slide back into Mina, gripping her ass as you begin thrusting again.

As you fuck her to another climax, you feel something rub against your finger. Moving your hand just a little, you feel a plug. “Does my baby have a plug in her?” You whisper into Mina’s ear.

“Yes, Daddy.” Mina says with a pout, “I want to save that for later.” she says softly. You leave it alone for now and continue fucking the young woman until you’re both exhausted. As you lay beside Mina, your chest heaving, you comment on her other side.

“This is a lot different from our first time together. So you have Sharon, and this is Mina?”

Mina looks away from you, covering her face. “It’s only when I’m drunk. I say a lot of things when I’m drunk.” She admits.

You laugh at Mina, “Oh yeah? Like ‘cum inside my slutty pussy’ or ‘fuck me like a whore’” Mina’s mind flashes back to the first time you had sex, and she grows more embarrassed. “So, which do you like more?” You lean in closely to Mina’s ear and run your hand along her body, pushing two fingers inside her cum-filled cunt. “Or is it both?” You ask her, “Are you my slutty baby?” Mina gasps, and her body shivers. She bites her lip and nods.

“I like both,”

#kpop smut #male reader #m reader #twice smut #mina smut

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allurilove · 7 months ago

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Yandere Stalker x you

Rated 18 + -- mature short content !

Content Warning: This story contains themes of obsession, stalking, manipulation, and violent fantasies. It delves into the unhealthy and dangerous mindset of a stalker obsessed with you. Reader discretion is advised.

WORD COUNT: 3.6K

INCLUDES: Stalking, blood kink, obsessive behavior, cunnilingus, fingering, fem reader, choking, mentions of cheating, p in v sex in public, murder, death, he's not a good person, dom yandere?, degradation?, he can be a bit of a gaslighter, gore, and more.

*This is the third fic to this little mini series. Check out the first part, and the second part for a better understanding! He is referred to as "your stalker." The italicized portion is his inner thoughts! This fic is inspired by the show You, and this is purely fictional writing!*

SYNOPSIS: Your stalker's obsession intensifies as he becomes involved with another woman named Daniella Foster, who he views as inferior to you. Despite his disdain for your best friend, he engages in a flirtatious and sexual relationship with her, all the while fantasizing about you.

What's more dangerous than a sick, psychotic, and perverted man?

I ran out of your blood today.

Just four hours ago, I was completely fine. The vial of your period blood was nearly empty, but I was able to stick my finger inside to collect the last of your crimson essence. I sucked a particularly big blood clot off my finger, and I was able to start my day with a huge smile.

Four hours ago, I could claim that I was a normal and functioning man, someone you wouldn’t blink an eye at, and that was all thanks to you.

Four hours ago, I was able to brush my teeth, take a shower, and clean myself up for the day. I had an extra pep in my step, and I felt like I could take on the world with a positive outlook.

Don’t you see how much life you give me? Your blood alone has made me feel like I was on top of the world, like I could float up into space with just your plasma to help me survive.

But now, it was gone.

Your stalker stared blankly at the window as his body was jostled side to side, his hands tightly gripping the handle of his tote bag that rested on his lap. He tried to ignore the obnoxiously sick person near him, who didn’t even bother to cover their coughs. He closed his eyes to avoid staring into the eyes of another person across from him. He was sandwiched between two burly people: one shouted loudly into their phone, clearly having zero spatial awareness, while the other snoozed. The woman's head drooped as she nodded off, and her greasy hair brushed against his cheek.

She had a distinct smell of sweat and wet socks. Your stalker apologized to the man next to him as he slightly leaned his body away from the woman. He was stuck in this position unless someone took pity on him and spoke up.

His car was in the shop. The tire had unexpectedly given out, causing him to swerve into oncoming traffic. The car was old anyway, a gift from his parents when he first got his license in high school. That must have been, what, ten years ago? He didn’t like to think about his age; nothing good ever came from it anyway.

Your stalker rummaged through his bag, his hand searching for the familiar plastic tube he used to steal your period blood. His fingers brushed against a particularly sharp blade he kept for “safety” reasons before they wrapped around the vial. He had really tried to savor it. He would carefully open his mouth and tilt the vial just enough for a single drop of blood to settle onto his tongue. Sometimes he would pour a bit into his coffee, or he would put it into his food. Either way, it made him feel closer to you. It was a comforting notion to think about, that he was the only man and human who had access to you in such an intimate way.

Your stalker sighed as he put the empty tube back into his breast pocket for safe keeping.

He didn’t like taking public transportation. New York was known for having odd things happening on the trains, buses, and subways. He was pretty sure that last week someone had set a rat on fire, a poor woman got robbed in broad daylight, and a group of teens were filming their dumb YouTube prank videos on the elderly.

Your stalker felt a flare of irritation as the woman leaned on his shoulder again. He gently nudged her off and ignored the way she woke up all startled. He glanced down at his phone, counting the number of stops, and saw he had twelve more before he could get off.

He was going to Manhattan for a job. An absolute douchebag had hired him, and his name was Myron Vykolv. He was the type to spend his money on trips and a bedazzled car rather than giving back to charity. Vykolv was an artist's worst nightmare: fickle, a headache to deal with; but surprisingly, he had good taste in art. He had to; he hired your stalker, after all.

He pulled out his phone to scroll on social media, his eyes scanning the copious amount of braindead content, and he paused when he saw a familiar face. He pressed the buttons on the side of his phone, his screen flashing, and the screenshot he took was saved in his photo album. Your stalker zoomed in, and his eyes widened as he saw the perfectly harmonious facial features. The baby tee top had a cute graphic splayed on the chest area, hair slicked and pulled back into a bun, and gold hoops dangling from those nicely formed ears.

It was you.

He glanced down at the caption: "a coffee date with my favorite bff." Posted exactly five minutes ago. It wasn't your account, but it was the closest thing he had to you. Your stalker decided to follow your coffee-manic and bikini-loving friend, and every post and picture she had, you were in it too.

She made it almost easy to stalk. Jesus, what if a deranged man had decided to show up to her place in the Beverly Hills area on the street of— seriously? Did she really just post her full address online?

Daniella Foster. The epitome of a fun and ditzy socialite who spent way too much time at parties and clubs. A trust fund baby if there ever was one, with her daddy being a big shot in the entertainment industry. Despite all that privilege, she never quite made it big herself.

Your stalker snorted as he saw the array of failed projects she had been in. Modeling? Wasn't in the cards for her. Acting? Horrible. A piece of cardboard would've had more personality than her. Originally from Tampa, Florida, then she moved to California, where she had her comically large house, and then… she decided to bless us by coming to New York. Lucky us, right y/n?

Your stalker looked up from his phone and realized the train had come to his stop. He got up from his seat and quickly made his way out. He felt his phone vibrate in his hand and looked down: Daniella requested to follow you. That was fast.

He clicked accept.

She's a shameless flirt, your stalker soon found out, and he’s not the least bit surprised. Daniella slid into his DMs with a picture of her provocatively sucking a lollipop, and her first words to him were: “What do you look like?”

Gee, take a gander, Daniella. My profile picture is a high-definition shot of my handsome and sexy fucking face. But sure, ask me about my looks as if you were actually interested. Your stalker rolled his eyes. He didn’t even want to respond to that message, but he had no other way of seeing you again. You would probably run at the sight of him, and that would be the most sane and correct thing you could do.

So, what does a man say when he’s mediocre, average, and you’re clearly out of his league? “I look like the man of your dreams, sweetheart.”

Your stalker had spent hours sexting and courting this woman who had flooded his inbox. Even when he was painting for a client, he managed to multitask and send a dick pic. He sent her whatever she wanted to keep her hooked, and just by her messages alone, this must have been the only time a man actually matched her level of craziness and horniness.

Days turned into weeks and then soon into months. The moment he woke up, he would see that she had sent him hundreds of messages in one night—she must've been drunk again.

He spent hours reading each message, and he hearted the ones that he felt were the most important. It was actually coming to an end, thank God, but to his surprise, she asked him out on a date.

"So, what do you do? Who are you?" The girl in front of him asked.

He shouldn't have said yes because now he was sitting in a restaurant that he could barely afford or get a reservation to, and he had to be with this woman who wasn't you. She was dressed beautifully - he'd give her that. He liked the dark colors of her red dress, the way he could drink in the curves of her hips and chest, and how it gave him a clear view of her body.

Now, he wondered what you would have worn if you were on a date with him. Would you have put in this much effort and shown this much skin? Would you have laughed at all of his jokes to boost his damn ego, or knocked him down a peg? Would you have ordered something light so you could have sex afterward, or would you have eaten something hearty and called it a day?

He pretended to think for a while, all before he gently touched her hand, and his fingers caressed her soft skin. "Who am I?" He teased, his voice slightly deepened as he gave her a playful once-over. "I'm hurt. After all these months, you still don't know who I am?"

"Why don't you refresh my memory?" She tilted her head.

Your stalker sighed and he looked around briefly. This place was intimate, for high rollers only, and he could just imagine how much of his money was going to go down the drain. The tiny candle on the table, the white clean cloth, and the vase with a single rose was still too romantic for his taste. His thumb traced circles on her hand, and the other grabbed for his steak knife.

“I'm an up-and-coming artist,” He replied with a bit of a shrug.

“An up-and-coming artist, huh?” She echoed, her fingers now interlocked with his. “Do you come often?”

Lord, please have some mercy and shoot me. Do I come often? Wouldn’t you like to know, you slut. Is this the type of person you really want to spend your time with, y/n? Daniella is not you, and she could never be you. She parades herself around for anyone and everyone to ogle at—she is the epitome of what’s wrong with the dating scene. No wonder she doesn’t have a boyfriend. No wonder she’s desperate enough to entertain me—of all people.

I know the type of people you like, Daniella, and it’s not me.

“You know what you’re doing when you ask me that.” he brought her hand up to his lips and he kissed it. “I can tell you can make a man come often.“

Daniella giggled and her chest puffed out. She leaned closer to him, and he can practically drown in her scent of vanilla and cake. “I have an art piece that I think you'll appreciate. It's back at my place… wanna see it?”

Fuhhhhhck no. Your stalker slipped the knife into his pocket.

Your stalker smirked and he leaned in closer as well. He could see the makeup on her face, the gloss on her lips, and he could see a glimpse of her ample breasts. “I don’t know… is it one of a kind?”

Underneath the table, her leg started to caress his, and her foot slowly found its way to his crotch. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he gulped, and he held onto her hand tighter. As much as he hated this, he would have been lying if he had said that the attention wasn’t nice. He felt the pressure around his groin tighten as she pressed her foot onto it, and she gently rubbed it up and down while maintaining eye contact.

“It’s an original piece…something that can’t be replicated. I’m sure you’ll love it.” Daniella said coyly, and she bit down on her plush lips.

She knew when to strike when the iron was hot. A taxi was called, and she made out with him in it. Her body was pressed up against his, and she felt his hand grip on her ass. His hand then slid up her thigh, his fingers ripped her black sheer stockings and two of them found their way to her entrance. He bit down on her bottom lip and his tongue slipped into her mouth.

She's a fun girl. She knew exactly how to inflate a man's ego and pride. He heard her sweet, light moans, and her hips started to grind onto his hand. His thumb played with her clit, and they only pulled away when the cab arrived at her house. He grabbed her hand and tossed a couple of bills at the driver. He slammed the door shut, and before she could unlock the door to her house, he pressed her against his body.

"W-We're in public...!" Daniella's face was flushed and she tried to close her legs, but your stalker was quick to pull them back apart.

He narrowed his eyes and tugged down her panties. "So? Don't tell me you have morals all of a sudden." he snorted.

He wished that she would just shut up. She opened her mouth to rebuttal but he wrapped one hand around her throat to keep her still and quiet, and he shimmied off his pants just enough for his cock to be out. "I didn't come here for you to talk all the damn time. Shut it, before I put that mouth of yours to good use."

Your stalker lifted her up and made her wrap her legs around him. His dick then entered inside her, and he groaned at how wet and ready she felt. It's been awhile since he felt actual warmth, and her walls started to clench around him. His breath is ragged as he fucked her. His eyes were closed and he couldn't help but bite down onto her shoulder. Daniella cried out, and her body was tense as his teeth broke into her skin.

"God... you needed this, didn't you?" He purred as he licked up the puncture wound. Your stalker then looked down to watch his cock disappear into her. "You need someone to fuck your brains out." He sharply thrust into her again, and his hands dug into the plush of her ass to help with the momentum.

Your stalker dragged his tongue across her bleeding shoulder, then pressed his body against hers, pinning her to the wall. With one hand still gripping her body, he used the other to shove his fingers down her throat, silencing her whimpers."You're the prettiest whore I have ever seen. Isn't that right, y/n?"

Your stalker truly believed he was being intimate with you. Daniella, who? All he knew was you. All he ever wanted was to feel you, to taste you, and to be able to hear you mewl around his cock. He wanted to see your eyes roll back into your skull, to paint your skin with butterfly kisses, and for him to finally come inside you again and again. It actually pissed him off to no end that he had to be stuck here with her.

When he felt himself getting closer to the edge, he unceremoniously pulled out of her, and his white stream of cum dripped down onto the ground. He sighed as his dick softened, and he gently helped her stand on her own legs again. His hand dipped underneath her body, his fingers playing with her wet folds, and he spread them apart to furiously rub at her clit. Daniella gripped onto his arm to keep him firmly there until she felt her leg shake.

Your stalker watched with a bit of fascination as what seemed like an endless amount of juices squirted out of her. He got onto his knees and helped her to sit onto his face. After he cleaned her all up, your stalker suddenly remembered something and his hand patted down his pockets.

"Hey... I think I'm missing my phone." He started his little lie. "Can I borrow yours? I forgot that I had an important call--"

"Bag." She just said and pointed to the one that was tossed to the side.

He muttered a "thanks" before he went over and rummaged through her purse. "What do you think about doing this again?" he kept an eye on her as his hand aimlessly tried to look for her phone. "I had fun tonight, and I'd like to see you one more time."

He could feel the various items in her bag. A packet of cigarettes, two lip products, house keys, a whole perfume bottle, but fuck where was her phone?

He watched as Daniella rolled down her scrunched up dress. The woman then raised her brow and she crossed her arms. "I'm pretty sure you said another woman's name."

"I didn't." He said rather quickly. "You drank a lot of wine--it was almost like you were trying to bankrupt me." He joked, and his hand firmly gripped onto what felt like a smooth case. He pulled it out of her bag and there it was. "What's your password?"

"Trying to change the subject, are we?"

"I'm pretty sure your phone is the subject, unlock it pretty please?"

Daniella pulled back her hair and she stared at him expectantly.

"I said give me your password, not a blowjob." Your stalker frowned.

She gave him an exasperated look. "It's my face dumbass." she then snatched her phone back from him.

"You don't use your thumb? What kind of update is that?"

"God, you're so poor." He heard her mutter.

That was so unwarranted, and sort of hurt.

Though it made him feel a lot better when he finally decided to slit her throat. Now that she was distracted, he discreetly pulled out the steak knife from his pocket before he dropped her bag and roughly yanked her back to him. His hand clamped over her mouth to muffle her screams as he dragged the serrated blade across her neck. The knife sawed through flesh, muscle, and sinew, blood spurting and gushing with each desperate pulse of her heart. It took him a while to sever her head completely, his arm burning with exhaustion as he hacked away, the blade catching on bone and gristle, her life draining away in a torrent of crimson.

Your stalker wiped his bloodied hand on her dress, he grabbed the phone off the ground, and he groaned when he saw that the screen was cracked. He tried his best to work the damn thing, his finger poking at the messaging app multiple times before it decided to open. Daniella had a plentiful amount of unsaved numbers but they had weird emojis next to them. One number was from a different country and had the eggplant emoticon.

Then he found the only saved number: y/n.

You're apparently a good girl and shared your location with your best friend. How adorable, you even share every given moment with her too. You even talked about how you were thinking about going back to your serial cheater of an ex.

Your stalker gasped, his head reeling back in shock. You were about to go back to your ex? Your ex, of all people? You couldn't have, what—moved on like a normal person? You couldn't have gone out and fucked around with someone new? Someone like him? It's like you purposely make the wrong choices just to be saved. Before he could be your little personal super hero... his eyes slowly made its way back to the body on the ground, and then to the keys that were in her bag.

Have you ever heard of cuteness aggression? The rush of impulsive behavior that you get after seeing a cute and defenseless puppy? I get that when I see you. I think you're so adorable that it makes my heart burst. Your stalker stared up into your apartment, and the car windows were rolled down to air out the perfume he dumped into the body bag.

However, there was nothing cute about this ugly pig-like fuck that touched your waist. That man had no redeeming qualities, and boy, did I want him to start squealing in pain. I wanted to pinch his body until he had yellowish-brown bruises all over. I wanted to crush his skull with my bare hands and feel his pulse drop. I wanted to be able to drink the blood shower that would come from their body and bathe in it. I want them to realize that you’re off the market, and that you’re solely mine.

They’re not good for you, love. You have seen that time and time again, and they have disappointed you before without fail; so why do you welcome them with open arms? It hurts to see your legs over their shoulders, and to see a bit of your face contorted in pleasure and ecstasy. Is it the sex? Is it the way they give you a fleeting moment of what could have been if they weren’t constantly cheating on you?

That’s pathetic, and you know it. But it’s okay, I’m willing to look past this little transgression. It’s not completely unforgivable. They must’ve broken you down and made you vulnerable enough to pull your pants down. It’s not your fault. It’s theirs.

Your stalker continued to stake out your house, patiently waiting for your ex to come down to the lobby. The moment he did, your stalker would be ready. He might not have been able to get your blood, but killing your ex and taking his was like killing two birds with one stone.

Allure: This is the first fic I wrote that actually has y/n in it! And it's pretty unedited, so if there is mistakes I will probs fix it later on. This dragged on for waaay longer than it needed and tbh, I am never writing a long fic like this again LMAO

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pshbites · 10 days ago

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MY FIRST AND LAST ━ pjs

pairing : bf!jisung x gf!reader genre : est relationship, pure fluff warnings : petnames, crying, kissing, jisung is a lil loser umm thats all! synopsis : a series of firsts you've had with your bf jisung wc : 2.1k a/n : muaahahah finally another ncity fic i larb writing for them! if you enjoyed please join my dream taglist !!

if u enjoyed pls like & reblog, feedback is also always appreciated!!

your first date. before you and jisung started dating you were mutual friends through jaemin. jaemin told you about jisung assuring you that he was a nice guy and since you two were single it wouldn’t hurt to go on a date! so being the good friend you were, you listened and decided to go on that date. it wasn’t like you didn’t know jisung, you guys were both in the same graduation year at your college and had met him a couple times at some of the hangouts jaemin invited you to, what was the harm in going on a date?

the date was a movie and dinner after since jaemin insisted that would be the best way to get to know one another. jaemin also reassured you that jisung was sort of interested in you and you couldn’t help but wonder if it was a set up. the entire date jisung was quite different from how he texted you prior, he was sort of shy and awkward. a part of you thought maybe he was nervous but then the other part thought that he just didn’t like you.

after dinner jisung insisted on walking you home and it was then that he admitted that he was actually so nervous the entire date, that he couldn’t even bring himself to talk to you. “honestly when jaemin told me you said yes i thought i was dreaming.. i mean you’re just so out of my league” he admitted shyly, scratching his neck and looking forward, as if he couldn’t bring himself to look at you. what a cute loser, you thought. “i am so in your league park don’t even.” you replied, elbowing him softly in a playful way. jisung looked down at the sidewalk, cheeks flushed.

first kiss. after your first date with jisung the two of you went on three more and talked so much over the phone. at some point everyone around you two was convinced that you were dating but of course, you were just two fools who didn’t know that you liked one another.

“i mean i don’t even think he’s considering these actual dates, you know?” you said, painting your nails next to your roommate, yizhuo, for whatever reason she was convinced that he had the fattest crush on you but you could beg to differ. “he literally said he was so scared to talk to you, if that doesn’t scream into you i don’t know what does” she sighed out, crossing her arms and sinking further into the couch. you sighed and threw your head back in frustration, why couldn’t he just tell you how he felt?

“i just have no idea how to say it you know, besides there’s no point she does not like me” jisung groaned out, making both jaemin and chenle eye one another. chenle rolled his eyes and sighed, “you take this one” he waved off at jaemin who sighed as well. “if she wasn’t into you do you really think she would’ve gone on like five dates with you?” he looked at jisung who only frowned slightly. “i don’t know! maybe she’s just being nice” he said, pacing around the room once more which made chenle even more frustrated. jisung had been going on for about an hour now and he was tired of it. “dude if you really wanna know her apartment isn’t like far from here, just go” chenle replied, scrolling through his phone mindlessly.

if chenle were looking at jisung he would see that something clearly was put in his mind, “you’re right..” he mumbled. before jaemin and chenle knew it, jisung was putting on his shoes and grabbing his coat, heading out the door. “dude it’s raining!” chenle shouted, making jisung shake his head, “i’ll be fine!” jisung was indeed not fine because after running to your apartment he was sure there was water in his socks. it didn't help that it was cold outside so his bones were quite frozen.

in the middle of your conversation you and yizhuo heard frantic knocking on the front door. “what the hell..” you mumbled, glancing at the door then yizhuo. she sank further into the couch and shook her head, “you get it! you’re already standing up” she pointed and you sighed at her childishness. you walked over to the door, opening it to reveal jisung, drenched from head to toe. he seemed out of breath, like he had ran here.

“oh my god jisung come in” was all you could say as he came in, still shivering. luckily you still had a towel hanging so you draped it over, patting his hair dry, then his face. as you held his face, he looked in your eyes, trying to build up the confidence to say something. you glanced over to the couch, yizhuo was long gone and probably ran to her room.

“i’ll get you-“

“do you like me”

you looked back to jisungs eyes, staring into them. “i..” you breathed out, unable to find words. “i really like you and i know you probably just don’t feel the same way but we could just be friends-“ “shut up park” you mumbled, leaning in to kiss him. his lips reciprocated, moving against yours. his lips were cold, yet still soft, the same with his hands as they found your waist, pulling you closer. you smiled softly as you pulled back, jisung wearing that same cute smile he always does.

“does this mean we’re dating?” he breathed out and you nodded, laughing. “yes park, we’re dating.”

first time sleeping over. you and jisung had been dating for about 3 months, it was safe to say everything was smooth sailing. your friends are always sick of you two but that’s just because you loved kissing his pretty lips. yizhuo was especially tired right now because she had to stay in her room while you and jisung watched a movie in the living room. as the ending credits rolled you looked over to jisung who was sound asleep next to you, poor boy. before he came over he had said he was up all day for some labs he had to do but he still insisted on coming over to watch this movie with you.

you patted his cheek softly, waking him up. he looked around confused then looked at you and frowned slightly. “i fell asleep didn’t i?” he sighed and you nodded, “it’s okay, you were tired don’t worry” you smiled softly, patting his head. the two of you sat like this for a couple seconds until you broke the silence. “you could.. sleep over. you’re too tired to go home”

immediately jisungs cheeks flushed and you felt yourself melting a little. “uh.. yeah okay..” he cleared his throat, standing up to rub his palms on his sweatpants. “cmon” you smiled, leading him to the way to your bedroom. as the two of you walked in jisung shut the door behind you two, watching as you got into your bed, leaving space for him. jisung stood there awkwardly for a couple seconds and you sighed. “grow up park we’ve cuddled on the couch” you smiled, heart melting at his nervousness

“yeah yeah..” he mumbled, walking over and slipping under the covers with you. he laid down, turning to face you. you smiled at his rosy cheeks. “hi” you breathed out, eyes not leaving his. “hi” he mumbled back, making you smile even more. you scooted closer to him and nuzzled your face in his chest. jisung hesitated before holding you closer in his arms. “night park” you muttered, making jisung smile softly. he rested his chin on the top of your head, “night baby.”

first time crying in front of the other. for the past week or so, you’ve been distant with jisung. there was no specific reason it was just because sometimes you have those days and strong people can’t always be okay. you didn’t want to burden jisung with this so here you sat, in a booth full of your friends, grilling meat and talking. you picked at the food on your plate and set your chopsticks down.

jisung noticed and leaned down to whisper in your ear, “you tired?” he spoke, softly. you leaned back a little and looked in his eyes, full of worry. “yeah a little” a lie. he nodded and looked to everyone, “me and yn are heading out guys” he said, grabbing your hand so the two of you could leave. everyone said their goodbyes and you two left the restaurant.

you found yourself telling jisung everything to the point where you thought you were burdening him. which is why you didn’t choose to tell him how stressed you had been lately. in hindsight it was the worst decision ever but you thought you were doing a good thing. the walk to his apartment was short and silent. as you two entered his apartment he helped you talk off your coat and hang it for you.

jisung knew something was up, he knew you lied to him in the restaurant but he didn’t want to say anything in front of your friends because he believed it was a conversation the two of you should have alone. “i’m gonna go use the bathroom” you said, not looking at him. “wait” jisung stood in front of you, blocking your way.

he looked down at you and frowned slightly. “did i do something wrong?” he breathed out and you furrowed your brows looking up at him. “what?” “you’ve just been so distant and i thought maybe today things would be fine and i guess not..” hearing him say those words broke your heart, he thought you were mad at him. the two of you stood in silence, jisungs eyes searching yours.

the silence was only broken when you started crying. “hey hey hey..” jisung mumbled, pulling you into his arms. “i’m sorry i just i was so stressed out and i didn’t want to bother you” you spoke through broken sobs, jisung stroked your hair and kissed the top of your head. “you could never bother me, baby, don't think that,” he said, holding back tears of his own. how could he have let you think that way?

you pulled back and he wiped the tears off your cheeks, holding your face in his hands. his own eyes slightly glassy. “your problems are my problems and that’s how it’ll always be from now on, okay?” he spoke, looking into your eyes and you nodded, sniffling softly. “now cmon let’s get you something to eat” he smiled, grabbing your hand in his and leading you to his kitchen.

first time saying i love you. the night before you and jisung celebrated your one year, it was everything you could’ve dreamed of. he took you to a nice fancy restaurant, then desert afterwards and finally you ended the night off with a walk around the city park. throughout the night only one thing was on your mind, you loved him.

you loved every detail of him, how he lights up your day with his presence, how his nose scrunches when he smiles. everything. you knew deep down you did but last night sort of solidified it for you. you turned in bed to face him, fast asleep, making you smile softly.

you pushed some of the hair off of his face, making his nose twitch a little. his eyes opened to see you, making him instantly smile. “good morning baby” he said, voice a bit raspy. “morning park” you smiled back, letting him pull you into his chest. his hand rested on your back, drawing small shapes.

“you sleep well?” you looked up at him, him nodding and rested his chin on your head. “could sleep a little more” he mumbled, making you smile. “you can’t park, you have class at noon” you replied, jisung only groaning aloud in response. “just ten more minutes..” he muttered, holding you closer if possible.

you two laid in that position for a couple more minutes until you leaned back a little to look up at him properly. you stared in his eyes and smiled softly, cupping his cheek. “i-“ “i love you” jisung breathed out. you stared back, shocked but a little proud? you didn’t think he’d have the guts to say it first. “you beat me to it” you mumbled, making him smile. “not gonna say it back baby?” he teased, leaned in to kiss your face all over.

you giggled at his acts, feeling ticklish as his hands roamed your body to find your most ticklish spots. “i love you too park stop it!” you spoke through giggles making jisung laugh with you. he stopped to look at you, your flushed cheeks and lips that were pouted oh so softly. all he wanted to do was kiss you. and that he did. jisung always kissed you like his life depended on it and that wasn’t gonna change anytime soon.

taglist : @cupidhoons @leeechin @chobunz @fatalhoon @junislqve @ourhees @geutori @hyuckworld @lqfiles @haedgaf @ronniee-26 @fairqves @wavetokgv @i03jae (i tagged some moots who i know are seasonies but please join my dream perma tl if you enjoyed!)

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theetherealbloom · 2 months ago

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IF THERE'S NOTHING LEFT - CH.2

Chapter Two: Hold On For Dear Love

Summary: You, a skilled healer, are brought to Rome by Senator Gracchus under the pretense of treating gladiators and Roman elites. You work with General Marcus Acacius to fight against the cruel reign of the twin emperors. Through danger and shared hope, your connection becomes a source of strength as you both dream of freeing Rome.

Paring: General Marcus Acacius x F!Reader

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, ANGST, Fluff, SMUT, Age-Gap(ish), Ancient Rome, Canon-Typical Violence, Gladiators, Blood, Gore, War, Romance, Politics, Alternate Universe, Eventual SMUT, Slavery, Sexism, Misogyny, Guilt, PTSD, Rebellion, Empires, (Very Light) Strangers-to-Enemies-to-Friends-to-Lovers, Crowds, Shouting, Animals, Duels, Loose Historical Fiction, Kissing,

Word Count: 10.1k

A/N: Chat, I am giving the reader a super vague background, like it won't matter too much, lol. You’re here for the vibes, and so am I ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ So this entire fic isn’t gonna be overly complicated, I don’t think this is the fic for that. I mean, they put sharks in the Colosseum, so… we’re going to take some liberties here and there for funsies. It’s fanfiction, it’s supposed to be fun :> ALSO YA’LL I GOT INTO A GROOVE. I wasn’t planning on updating til next week but the words kept coming to me and suddenly I’m done with chapter two hehe. AND YES YES SHUSH NEXT CHAPTER IS SMUT. MAYBE. Ok enjoy girlies heheh.

Side note: I’m dyslexic and English isn’t my first language! So I apologize in advance for the spelling and/or grammatical errors. As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated. Thank you and happy reading!

Song: Hymn To Virgil by Hozier

Previous Chapter → Next Chapter | Series Masterlist |Main Masterlist|

SENATOR THRAEX’S PARTY — DAY

The grand villa was alive with music, laughter, and the heady scent of roasted meats and spilled wine. Senators, high-ranking officials, and Rome's wealthiest citizens mingled among trays of fruit and platters of delicacies, their voices filling the air with a cacophony of conversation and self-indulgent boasts. Courtesans draped in sheer silks wove through the throng, their laughter as light and false as the smiles of their patrons.

You stood to the side, partially hidden in the shadow of a marble column. The position offered a semblance of privacy while giving you a clear view of the room. You made mental notes of the faces present—senators, generals, and merchants, all drunk on wealth and power. Their alliances and rivalries played out in every guarded glance and overly polite toast.

Senator Gracchus approached you with a goblet of wine, his face etched with age but kind. “You look like a soldier observing a battlefield,” he remarked dryly.

You smiled faintly, accepting the drink. “It feels like one. Though I’m not sure which side I belong to.”

Gracchus chuckled, leaning slightly closer. ��In Rome, one must always choose a side, my dear. Even if that choice is to appear invisible.”

Before you could respond, a voice interrupted. “Ah, the daughter of misfortune graces us with her presence.” Senator Thraex’s saccharine tone drew the attention of those nearby. He strode toward you, his beady eyes alight with thinly veiled mockery. “I was just telling Gracchus how tragic your loss must have been. Your poor parents—what a terrible end.”

Your jaw tightened, but you forced a polite smile. “Your concern is appreciated, Senator. They are at peace now.”

Thraex clasped his hands, feigning sympathy. “Still, such a pity. A young woman like you, left all alone in this cruel city. Surely by now, you should have found a husband to protect you from its dangers?”

The words stung, though you refused to let it show. Keeping your tone steady, you replied, “I fear my reputation for independence precedes me. Not all men wish to marry someone who refuses to play the meek lamb.”

Gracchus coughed into his goblet, poorly disguising a laugh, while Thraex’s smile faltered. “How... peculiar,” he said, his tone sharper now. “Though perhaps not surprising. It would be difficult to find a suitor for one so... outspoken.”

The room seemed to hum with energy as Thraex’s face, darkened with irritation from your earlier remark, shifted into a mask of forced hospitality when his gaze landed on a man entering the crowd—a towering figure wrapped in silk and jewels, his presence as commanding as it was enigmatic. You followed Thraex's movement as he moved to greet the man, a name rippling through your thoughts: Macrinus.

You had heard whispers of him before. A former gladiator who had fought for his freedom, now a powerbroker in Rome. He supplied food, wine, and oil for the empire’s armies, manufactured weapons, and even maintained a stable of gladiators. His name carried weight, his connections extending into the darkest corners of Roman politics.

As Thraex approached Macrinus, his false charm returned, his arms spreading wide. “Macrinus!” he greeted, his voice dripping with exaggerated warmth. He clapped the man on the shoulder with an enthusiasm that bordered on theatrical. “I knew the provinces could never contain you.”

Macrinus accepted the embrace with a faint smirk, his dark eyes scanning the room with calculated ease. “I’m just here for the games,” he replied, his tone casual, though there was a hint of something sharper beneath the surface.

Thraex chuckled, his grip lingering on the man’s shoulder. “Ah well, you won't be disappointed. Rome has all the games that men like you like to play.”

“Men like me, cracks men like us.” Macrinus shot back, his grin widening. “I know nothing happens in Rome unless you… tasted it first! ”

Thraex laughed at the jab, the sound too loud to be sincere. Their exchange continued, a dance of veiled threats and mutual amusement. You lingered at the edge of the room, doing your best to blend into the shadows, your ears straining to catch every word.

Thraex handed Macrinus a gilded chalice of wine, his eyes glinting with curiosity. “What's this we hear about you being interested in standing for an election to the senate practice?”

Macrinus stiffened, his surprise poorly concealed as he let out a dry chuckle. “Me? You know, I don't even know how to use an abacus,” He sipped his wine before adding with a wry smile, “but I do understand that… it's customary for your guests to make wagers at these affairs.”

Thraex’s eyes narrowed slightly, though his smile didn’t falter. “How large a sum did you have in mind?”

Macrinus tilted his head thoughtfully, the jewels around his neck catching the light. “A thousand gold aureus?”

Thraex’s lips curled into a grin that didn’t reach his eyes. “Two,” he countered smoothly.

Macrinus glanced at the courtesan draped over his arm, as if seeking her approval. The woman gave a slight nod, and Macrinus shrugged, turning back to Thraex. “Denarius,” he said simply, the single word carrying enough weight to silence Thraex for a fleeting moment.

Macrinus walked away with an easy swagger, leaving Thraex standing alone with his forced smile slipping into a scowl. The flash of irritation on his face, so quickly concealed, didn’t escape your notice.

You couldn’t suppress a small smirk of your own as you turned your attention elsewhere. Rome’s elite might dress themselves in finery and smiles, but it was clear that every word exchanged tonight was a thread in the intricate tapestry of power. Threads you were determined to unravel.

The air in the grand hall shifted, thick with anticipation as the crowd clustered toward the edges of the room. The glint of opulence—golden goblets, silk-draped tables, and jewels adorning the guests—clashed against the dark reality of what was about to unfold. Your eyes lingered briefly on a figure across the way: a man, bound in chains, sitting quietly. There was no fear in his expression, only a smoldering anger that made you uneasy.

The sound of clapping drew your attention back to the center of the room. Senator Thraex, ever the showman, raised his voice above the murmur of the crowd. “Stand back! Stand back!” he called, his tone a mix of authority and delight.

You stepped aside, blending into the edges of the gathering, as the spectators parted to form a circle. The twin emperors, Caracalla and Geta, lounged decadently on their perch, surrounded by concubines who laughed and whispered among themselves. Their indifference to the gathering's undertones was maddening.

Thraex turned toward them with an exaggerated bow. “My emperors,” he began with a grin before addressing the audience. “Lords, ladies, senators—tonight, for your entertainment... the art of combat!”

Excited gasps rippled through the room, the revelers’ reactions equal parts anticipation and bloodlust. You fought the urge to roll your eyes. Thraex gestured dramatically toward the two men brought forward—one was the same figure you’d seen earlier, still brooding but now standing tall.

“And now,” Thraex continued, “the barbarian, versus from my own stable, the mighty Vijay!”

The crowd erupted into applause as Vijay, a towering figure in a yellow tunic, was escorted forward. His opponent, the gladiator from across the room, now squared his shoulders and met Vijay’s gaze.

“It is your gladiator?” Emperor Geta asked, his tone laced with mild amusement, as he glanced at Macrinus.

Macrinus inclined his head respectfully. “It is, your Majesty.”

Chains were removed from both men, their freedom feeling more like a death sentence. Thraex began to set the terms. “Three rounds, hand-to-hand—”

But Emperor Caracalla’s voice cut through. “Swords!” he barked, his grin wicked.

The room fell silent.

“We want swords. A fight to the death!” Caracalla continued, his voice rising with glee. “No quarter to be offered, or given!”

Thraex hesitated, his expression faltering for a moment, but the guards stepped forward, placing swords into the gladiators’ hands. You felt your stomach twist as the two men began circling one another.

The gladiator of Macrinus spoke first, his voice calm but edged with pleading. “Brother, come now. Let us not kill each other for their amusement.”

Vijay’s only response was a roar as he lunged, his sword slicing through the air. The next moments were chaos. Blades clanged as they met, sparks flying from each blow. The room seemed to shrink around the violence as tables splintered and decorations toppled.

The climax came when Vijay’s sword slipped from his grasp in the scuffle. The other gladiator seized the opportunity, driving his blade into Vijay’s chest. A sharp gasp escaped you as the larger man crumpled to the marble floor, his blood pooling beneath him.

The victor tossed his sword to the ground with a clatter, breathing heavily, his face and tunic spattered with blood. Around you, the crowd erupted into applause and cheers, their delight in stark contrast to your quiet horror.

“Remarkable!” Emperor Geta exclaimed, standing as he clapped his hands. He approached Macrinus with an approving nod. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you, your Majesty,” Macrinus replied smoothly.

Geta then turned to the gladiator, studying him with newfound interest. “From where do you hail?”

The man said nothing, his jaw set, his silence defiant.

The tension in the room grew thick. Even you found yourself leaning forward, curiosity mingling with unease.

“Speak,” Geta commanded sharply. When no answer came, his impatience boiled over. “I said speak!”

Macrinus stepped in quickly, bowing his head. “Your Majesty, he is from the colonies. His native tongue is all he understands.”

The gladiator finally raised his head, his voice cutting through the room like a blade. “The gates of hell are open night and day; smooth the descent, and easy is the way: but to come back from hell, and view the cheerful skies, in this the task and mighty labor lies.”

The poetry stunned you, the eloquence jarring against the brutal spectacle that had just unfolded. Around you, the room fell silent for a beat before Caracalla broke into a laugh.

“Poetry!” the Caracalla declared, grinning as he turned to Macrinus. “Very clever, Macrinus. Very clever indeed.”

Macrinus bowed slightly. “To amuse you is my only wish, your Majesty.”

“We are amused,” Geta said, though his gaze remained fixed on the gladiator. His voice rose as he addressed the room. “And we all look forward to seeing your poet… perform in the arena.”

“As do I your majesty's.” Macrinus gestured to his guard. “Viggo,” he said softly, and the guard stepped forward to escort the gladiator out of the room.

As the crowd began to disperse, murmurs of excitement rippling through the air, you remained rooted in place. Your eyes followed the blood trail left by Vijay’s body as it was dragged away. The victor—dripping in another man’s blood, yet unbowed—disappeared through the doors, his haunting words lingering in your mind like a ghost.

LUCILLA'S VILLA — LATE AFTERNOON

The villa of Domitia Lucilla stood as a serene contrast to the chaos of Rome—a sprawling sanctuary of pale stone walls and gardens heavy with the scent of roses and citrus. The late afternoon sun stretched shadows across the courtyard as you entered, the weariness from Senator Thraex’s debauched gathering weighing heavily on your shoulders.

Lucilla awaited you, standing poised near a column. Her cream stola shifted with the breeze, but her sharp gaze was unwavering, as if she had been expecting this moment.

“You’ve returned,” she said, warmth in her voice tempered by the gravity of her expression.

“I have, my lady—”

She waved off the formalities with a flick of her wrist. “Enough with that. How many times must I tell you?”

“Habit,” you replied with a faint smile, though it lacked its usual brightness.

Her lips twitched with amusement, but concern quickly took its place. “And how was Senator Thraex’s gathering? As intolerable as I feared?”

You sighed, the grotesque excess of the night flashing briefly in your mind. “More wine than wit. And blood, of course. Always blood.”

Lucilla’s mouth tightened, her brow furrowing just enough to betray her displeasure. She stepped closer, resting a hand lightly on your shoulder. “Rome devours itself with spectacle. It leaves nothing but emptiness behind,” she murmured.

You nodded but didn’t speak. The heaviness of her words settled heavily on you because they were true.

“And Thraex himself?” she pressed, tilting her head.

You hesitated. “He made his usual jabs about my… unmarried state. Feigned sympathy for my family. And spent an inordinate amount of time with Macrinus, the arms dealer. It seemed more calculated than casual.”

Lucilla’s eyes narrowed slightly, her mind already turning. “Macrinus does not waste his time on frivolities. If Thraex is courting him, there’s more at play.”

“Something to do with the games tomorrow, perhaps?” you suggested. “He seemed eager for them.”

Lucilla’s lips pressed into a thin line. “It’s possible. His ambitions are endless, and I fear his alliances will be the ruin of many.”

“Rome always finds a way to drag us into its mire,” you muttered bitterly.

Her hand on your shoulder tightened briefly, reassuring. “Then we tread carefully. But not tonight. Tonight, we focus on what lies ahead. The senators will convene soon, and General Acacius is to join us.”

You huffed a soft laugh, though it carried a trace of exasperation. “A grand gathering in his honor, and he doesn’t bother to attend the festivities.”

Lucilla arched a brow, her expression turning sly. “Were you hoping he would?”

Heat rushed to your face, and you fumbled for a response. “I—no, of course not. I just thought it odd.”

“Mm.” Her tone was noncommittal, but her knowing smile made you glance away.

Before you could dwell on your embarrassment, Lucilla turned down another garden path, leaving you to follow. It was there, amid the soft hum of cicadas and the golden haze of the late afternoon, that you saw him.

Marcus Acacius sat beneath a pergola, his broad shoulders bent slightly over a parchment, a quill poised in his hand. A goblet of wine sat forgotten beside him, the scene unexpectedly tranquil for a man of his reputation.

Lucilla glanced over her shoulder with a smirk. “It seems you’ll get your wish after all.”

Your stomach twisted at her words, but before you could form a protest, she disappeared around the corner. Left to your own devices, you took a steadying breath and approached. The crunch of gravel underfoot drew his attention, and he looked up, his dark eyes softening as they met yours.

“I was beginning to think you wouldn’t return,” he said, his voice low and warm, though a flicker of relief betrayed him.

You tilted your head, folding your arms as you came closer. “And I was beginning to think you’d forgotten the party was meant for you.”

Marcus chuckled, setting down his quill. “Crowded rooms filled with drunken senators and empty promises hold little appeal. I prefer the quiet.” He gestured to the bench across from him. “Join me?”

For a moment, you hesitated, the unspoken tension between you filling the air. But then you sat, folding your hands neatly in your lap.

“The games tomorrow will be particularly… extravagant,” you said, glancing at the parchment. “I’m to serve as a healer for the event.”

His brow furrowed. “You’ll be in the arena?”

“Not in it,” you replied quickly. “But close enough.”

Marcus’s jaw tightened. “It’s barbaric. They celebrate death, and you’re left to mend what’s left behind.”

“It’s Rome,” you said with a shrug, though the bitterness in your voice was unmistakable.

“Does it not anger you?” His voice was steady but insistent, his gaze searching yours.

You hesitated before answering. “Every day,” you admitted quietly. “But anger doesn’t heal. It doesn’t save lives.”

His hand moved, resting near yours on the table—not touching, but close enough that the space between felt charged. “You do more than heal,” he said after a moment. “You remind us of what’s worth saving.”

The sincerity in his words made your breath hitch. For a moment, you didn’t know what to say.

“I only do what I can,” you said finally.

“And it’s enough,” he replied, his voice firm.

Silence settled between you, but it was not empty. It was heavy with questions left unasked, with the unshakable feeling that you knew him from somewhere beyond this life.

“You’re different,” he said suddenly.

You raised an eyebrow, half-amused. “Is that a compliment or a warning?”

He smiled faintly. “A truth.”

You studied him, the edges of recognition tugging at your mind. “Have we met before?”

His hand stilled, his expression unreadable. “Why do you ask?”

“It’s the way you look at me,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “Like you know something I don’t.”

For a long moment, he said nothing. Then, softly, “Perhaps I’m just trying to understand you.”

“And do you?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

For a moment, he didn’t answer. Instead, his gaze lingered on yours, as if he were searching for something—something hidden behind the words you didn’t say. His jaw tightened, and then relaxed, his hesitation drawing out the silence until it felt like the whole garden held its breath.

The sun dipped low on the horizon, casting an amber glow across the courtyard. The scent of citrus blossoms drifted through the air, mingling with the faint tang of oil from the bronze lamps. You and Marcus sat across from each other, the heavy quiet between you punctuated by the distant hum of the city below.

“I think,” he said finally, his voice low and measured, “that you’re not as much of a mystery as you’d like to believe.”

You said nothing, the truth of his words settling over you. He wasn’t the first to try to understand you, but he was the first whose attempt didn’t feel like an invasion. Still, you kept your silence, hoping it would shield whatever he thought he saw.

Marcus leaned back slightly, his gaze unwavering, though his tone softened. “You wear your defiance like armor. It suits you, but…” He hesitated, as if searching for the right words. “Even armor cracks under enough weight.”

Your chest tightened. There was no judgment in his voice, just quiet understanding, and that somehow made it worse. You turned your eyes to the horizon, watching as the light bled into dusk.

“And you?” you asked at last, your voice quiet, almost tentative. “What cracks your armor?”

He didn’t answer immediately, his jaw tightening as he looked away. For a long moment, you thought he might deflect or let the question fall unanswered. But then he sighed, his shoulders dropping slightly, the facade of the unshakable general slipping.

“The things I’ve done,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “The wars. The lives I’ve taken. I tell myself it was duty. For Rome. For honor. But when I close my eyes…” His hand curled into a fist on the table, the scarred knuckles white with tension. “I see their faces. The ones I killed. The ones I couldn’t save. Sometimes, I think that’s all there is left of me. Blood and ghosts.”

His words hung in the air, raw and unguarded. You felt the sharp sting of his pain as if it were your own, and it stirred something deep within you—a desire not to fix him, but to let him be broken without shame.

“There’s more to you than that,” you said softly, surprising even yourself with the conviction in your voice. “Let the brokenness be felt, Marcus, until you reach the other side. There is goodness in the heart of every broken man who comes right up to the edge of losing everything he has.”

He looked at you then, his expression unreadable, but his eyes—those fierce, commanding eyes—betrayed a flicker of something fragile. “And if the edge is all that’s left?”

You shook your head. “Then you find your way back. One step, one breath, one choice at a time. You’ve already come this far.”

A faint, wry smile tugged at his lips. “You sound certain.”

“I am,” you said simply. “Because I’ve seen it before. I’ve seen men lose everything and still find the strength to rebuild. You’ve endured so much, Marcus. And yet, here you are.”

His gaze lingered on you, and for a moment, the air between you felt impossibly heavy, as though the weight of both your pasts had settled there. But then, something shifted—just a fraction—and the tension eased.

“Tell me,” he said quietly, leaning forward. “How does someone like you—someone who speaks of goodness and second chances—end up in a place like this?”

You let out a soft laugh, though it held no humor. “A long story,” you said, your tone laced with irony.

He smiled faintly. “I’ve got time.”

The simplicity of his statement caught you off guard. You studied him for a moment, searching for any trace of mockery, but found none. He was patient, steady, like a man who had weathered every storm and learned to endure the waiting.

You hesitated, then began to speak—not all at once, but in fragments. You told him of the choices that had brought you here, the moments of defiance and loss that had shaped you. He listened without interrupting, his focus unbroken, as though each word mattered.

When the story faltered and the silence crept back in, Marcus spoke again, his voice gentle. “You’ve carried much on your shoulders.”

You shrugged, your gaze fixed on the table. “Haven’t we all?”

He nodded, a faint smile playing at his lips. “Perhaps. But not everyone carries it as well as you.”

The compliment startled you, and you looked up to find him watching you with something like admiration. It wasn’t romantic, not yet—but it was real, and it unsettled you in a way you couldn’t quite name.

“You don’t know me well enough to say that,” you said, though your voice lacked its usual bite.

“Not yet,” he agreed. “But I’d like to.”

Something in his tone—a quiet sincerity, unadorned by pretense—made you pause. You realized, with a small jolt, that you wanted to know him, too. Not just the general, but the man beneath the armor.

“Maybe,” you said finally, a faint smile tugging at your lips. “If you’re patient.”

His smile widened, just a little, and for the first time, you saw a glimmer of hope in his eyes. “I’ve learned to be patient,” he said. “For the right things.”

And as the night deepened and the stars began to dot the sky, you found yourself wondering if, perhaps, this was one of them.

The room was dark, the faint glow of torchlight from the grilled window casting long, flickering shadows on the walls. Lucilla stood beside you, her sharp eyes trained on the guards below as they exchanged shifts. She watched silently, her body tense but still, until the last of them disappeared around the corner.

With a soft sigh, she turned back into the room and extinguished the candles one by one. The light died away, replaced by the cover of darkness. Outside, a guard’s voice called up, noting that she must be retiring for the evening.

You remained quiet, holding the lamp as Lucilla adjusted her robes and pulled up the hood, the fabric obscuring her features. The air felt heavier now, laden with unspoken tension. She glanced at you, her gaze sharp even in the dim light.

“Are you ready?” she asked, her voice a low murmur.

You nodded and pulled your own hood over your head. The warmth of the lamp in your hand was a small comfort against the chill of the night.

Lucilla stepped closer, her hands gripping your forearm briefly as she said your name. “You must know,” she said, her voice quiet but firm, “if you do this with us, there is a possibility that we may be discovered. And the penalties—”

“I’m aware,” you interrupted gently, meeting her gaze. There was no hesitation in your voice.

She studied you for a moment longer, then nodded, a faint flicker of respect passing over her features. Without another word, she turned toward a small shrine tucked into the corner of the room.

Kneeling, she rolled back a slab of marble with deliberate care, revealing a narrow passage that led downward. The air that seeped out was cool and damp, smelling faintly of earth and stone.

Lucilla motioned for you to follow, and you descended after her, the spiral staircase winding tightly into the depths. Your lamp cast shifting shadows on the walls, and the faint echoes of your footsteps seemed louder than they should have been.

The tunnel at the bottom was carved with care, though the stone showed its age. Lucilla moved through it with practiced ease, her robes brushing against the walls as the passage widened and opened into a massive underground catacomb.

You stopped short, your breath catching at the sight. The vaulted ceilings arched high above you, their grandeur almost otherworldly. This place was built for eternity, every detail a testament to early Roman splendor. Statues of gods and long-dead ancestors stood sentinel, their marble faces solemn in the lamplight.

Lucilla’s steps slowed as she approached a series of crypts. Each one was marked with the bust of a family member, their likenesses carved into the stone. She stopped before the bust of Marcus Aurelius, her father, and laid a hand on its smooth surface.

“Father,” she whispered, her voice tinged with both reverence and sorrow, “protect us and guide us.” Her fingers lingered for a moment before she turned away, her expression unreadable.

You wanted to say something, to break the silence, but the words escaped you. There was a sacredness here that felt unshakable, a weight you couldn’t quite explain.

ANTECHAMBER — MINUTES LATER

The air in the antechamber felt thick, like the weight of centuries pressed down upon you all. Torches lined the stone walls, their flickering light casting wavering shadows on faces lined with tension and purpose. The damp chill of the underground space only added to the solemnity of the moment.

Lucilla moved forward with practiced grace, her head held high despite the gravity of the meeting. The first man stepped into the torchlight, his wiry frame and sharp features softened only by the faint trace of a smile.

“Gracchus,” Lucilla said warmly, extending her hands. “Old friend.”

Gracchus clasped her hands briefly, his grip conveying both respect and concern. “My lady. I wish we were meeting in better times.”

Lucilla’s lips curved into a faint smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “The sun shone once—it will shine again.”

Gracchus raised an eyebrow, the corners of his mouth quirking into a sardonic smirk. “And what in heaven’s name does that mean?”

Before Lucilla could answer, a low, resonant voice emerged from the shadows. “It means hope, Gracchus.”

You started slightly, your heart skipping as a figure stepped forward. Marcus Acacius. The flickering light caught the edges of his armor, making it gleam like liquid fire. His presence filled the room effortlessly, his broad frame and steady gaze commanding attention.

Gracchus let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “Oh yes. He is shiny.”

Marcus didn’t react to the jest, but his eyes flicked between Lucilla and Gracchus before settling briefly on you. His gaze held for a beat too long, making your pulse quicken.

“Did I startle you?” he asked, his tone smooth but edged with faint amusement.

You straightened, tightening your grip on the lamp you carried. “Not at all,” you said, though your voice betrayed you.

The faintest hint of a smile touched his lips, but he turned his attention back to Gracchus, his expression growing serious. “We want to take back the city. To restore Rome to what it should be.”

Gracchus’s expression darkened, doubt creeping into his voice. “An exciting venture. When?”

“On the final day of the games,” Marcus replied firmly.

Gracchus raised a skeptical brow. “How?”

Marcus’s jaw tightened, the tension clear as he measured his words. “My army waits for my command at Ostia. Five thousand soldiers loyal to me will enter Rome. I intend to arrest our emperors in front of the crowds at the Colosseum for their crimes against the Senate and the people.”

A long, heavy silence followed. Gracchus exchanged a wary glance with Thraex, who stood silently in the background. The two senators appeared burdened with years of cynicism, the spark of belief long extinguished.

Lucilla broke the quiet, her voice sharp and resolute. “We cannot continue to see Rome damaged, sliding further into corruption and decay.”

Thraex snorted softly, folding his arms. “Does he want to be Emperor?”

Marcus’s gaze sharpened as he shook his head. “I am a soldier, not a politician. Rome will be yours to administer and—”

Gracchus interrupted him, his tone cutting. “Your father spoke of returning power to the Senate. But that was a generation ago. Much has changed. The people haven’t seen hope for years, and—”

This time, Marcus’s voice rose slightly, his frustration bleeding through. “Rome is not yet ready to be a republic, but with time—and guidance—a vote by the people, for the people, would mean—”

Lucilla placed a steady hand on Marcus’s arm, quieting him. She turned to Gracchus, her voice calmer but no less determined. “Rome can live again. Do we have your support, Gracchus?”

Gracchus hesitated, his gaze shifting to you, then back to Marcus. Finally, he nodded slowly, his voice soft. “Lucilla, you are the daughter of Marcus Aurelius. He had my loyalty, and so do you.”

Lucilla allowed herself a small smile. “A political answer, but good enough. Senator Thraex?”

Thraex hesitated, his eyes flickering to you. He seemed to brace himself before speaking. “Politics follows power, my lady. Take back what is rightfully yours, and the Senate will support you.”

The room seemed to exhale as the senators gave their tentative agreement, but Gracchus’s gaze lingered on you. His voice softened. “I vowed to your parents I would take care of you. To give you a life beyond this... chaos.”

Your grip on the lamp tightened as you met his gaze, your voice steady despite the turmoil in your chest. “There is no point in life if the future of Rome is nothing but an abuse of power and position.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Marcus’s expression shift. His gaze rested on you, his brow furrowing slightly, as if he were seeing you in a new light.

The torches flickered, their flames casting light on faces filled with determination and shadows that hinted at the dangerous road ahead. You glanced at Marcus once more, and his eyes caught yours, a faint, unspoken understanding passing between you.

THE COLOSSEUM — DAY

The air around the Colosseum is alive with a chaotic energy that hums through the sprawling crowd. The great amphitheater towers above, its shadow sprawling across the dusty streets. Vendors shout over one another, selling honeyed dates, roasted nuts, and cheap wine. Children dart between the throngs, their quick fingers snatching at coin purses while wide-eyed newcomers marvel at the spectacle before them.

As you approach the towering Capitoline Arch, your eyes lift to the imposing statue of General Marcus Acacius atop a marble plinth. The sunlight gleams off the bronze plaque beneath, bearing the inscription: ACACIUS, VICTOR AFRICAE.

You pause, a faint sigh escaping your lips as you take it in. The statue is majestic, carved with precision to capture his strength and valor, but there’s something about its stillness, its perfection, that feels wrong. The man you’ve come to know is far more complicated than the warrior immortalized in marble.

Pulling your hood closer to shield yourself from prying eyes, you make your way toward the entrance of the Colosseum.

Outside the massive arena, the crowd is dense, funneling into the arched entrances like water forced through narrow channels. The scent of sweat, baked bread, and dust clings to the air.

A wagon lumbers past, its wheels creaking as it pulls into the rear gates of the Colosseum. The iron gates groan shut behind it with a finality that makes you shiver.

Your eyes catch on one of the gladiators stepping down from the wagon. He is broad-shouldered, with a grim expression and scars that tell stories of survival. Recognition flickers in your mind—he was at Senator Thraex’s gathering, one of Macrinus’ men.

For a moment, his gaze meets yours, sharp and searching. You quickly turn away, the weight of his stare lingering like a brand on your skin.

COLOSSEUM UNDERCROFT — DAY

The undercroft is a world unto itself, hidden beneath the grandeur of the arena above. The air here is damp and stale, filled with the mingled scents of blood, sweat, and the earthy musk of the animals kept for the games. Torches line the stone walls, their flames barely cutting through the heavy gloom.

You step carefully, the hem of your robe brushing against the uneven stones beneath your feet. Around you, the sounds of preparation echo—metallic clangs of swords being sharpened, the low murmur of prayers whispered by gladiators, and the distant roar of the crowd above, a constant reminder of what waits beyond.

A sudden shout breaks through the noise, and you flinch instinctively, your hand tightening around the lamp you carry.

“Keep moving!” A guard barks, shoving a gladiator forward.

You press yourself against the wall to let them pass, your eyes following the line of chained men as they march toward their fate. The air feels heavier here, thick with despair and the metallic tang of blood that never quite fades from the stone.

The main chamber opens ahead, a cavernous space carved from the bedrock, with a stone memorial spanning two centuries etched into one of the walls. The names carved there seem endless, a testament to the lives given—or taken—beneath this roof.

You step into the room, your eyes searching for Ravi, the healer who has been your closest ally in this grim underworld. He is leaning over a battered table, his thick canvas coat bristling with the tools of his trade—scalpels, needles, and small bottles of tinctures.

Ravi glances up as you approach, his dark eyes meeting yours. He nods, his expression weary but kind. “You’re late,” he says, his tone more teasing than reproachful.

“I was delayed,” you reply, setting the lamp down on the edge of the table.

Ravi straightens, his hands covered in the telltale stains of his work. “Delayed by a statue, no doubt,” he says with a smirk, nodding toward the hallway you came from.

You sigh, rolling your eyes. “Not just the statue. The entire crowd outside could rival an army.”

He chuckles softly, but his humor fades as his gaze shifts to the tools laid out before him. “It’s a mad world out there. And in here. They’ll call it glory, but we know better, don’t we?”

You nod, your fingers brushing against one of the bottles of tincture on the table. “How many today?”

“Too many,” Ravi replies grimly. “It always is. But if we don’t patch them up, they’ll be thrown back into the arena like lambs to the slaughter.”

You glance toward the memorial wall, the endless names a stark reminder of what happens when healing is no longer enough. “And yet they cheer,” you say softly, more to yourself than to him.

Ravi follows your gaze, his expression hardening. “They cheer because they’re too far away to hear the screams. From up there, it’s just a show.”

A heavy silence falls between you, the weight of his words settling in the space like a tangible presence.

Finally, Ravi breaks it, his voice quieter now. “You could have been anywhere. A villa in the hills, a proper clinic, somewhere far from all of this. Why here?”

You meet his gaze, your voice steady despite the ache in your chest. “Because someone has to be.”

Before Ravi can respond, the distant blare of a cornu horn echoes through the chamber, its mournful call summoning the combatants to the arena.

Ravi exhales, shaking his head. “That’s our cue.”

You nod, grabbing the lamp and turning toward the corridor. “Let’s hope today isn’t worse than the last.”

Ravi follows, his canvas coat swaying as he moves. “Hope’s in short supply here,” he mutters. But then, as if to lighten the mood, he adds, “But if anyone can keep these bastards alive, it’s us.”

A faint smile pulls at your lips as the two of you head toward the chaos waiting above. The sound of the horn grows louder, blending with the roar of the crowd—a noise as relentless as the tide.

The roar of the Colosseum was muffled slightly where you and Ravi stood in the shadow of the lower arches, but the sight above was impossible to ignore. Caracalla and Geta had already taken their places in the royal seats, their expressions imperious yet lacking true command. The crowd’s response to their arrival was lukewarm, tepid applause barely rippling through the masses.

Ravi glanced at you, a wry smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “They can’t even fake enthusiasm for their own Emperors. Telling, isn’t it?”

You nodded grimly, shifting your gaze to the arena floor where the fight’s Master of Ceremonies stood, clearly tense. He gestured sharply to the musicians, prompting them to play a fanfare in a desperate attempt to rouse the audience.

Through the giant copper horn mounted on a stand, his voice bellowed, “Citizens of Rome! These sacred games are held to honor the victory of Rome over the barbarians of Numidia—”

You winced at the crude remark, the words cutting through the air with their arrogance.

“And to honor Rome's legionary commander, General Justus Acacius!”

At the mention of Acacius, your eyes instinctively sought him out. There he was, emerging in white and gold, a gleaming figure against the harsh backdrop of the Colosseum. His presence was magnetic, commanding without effort. He moved with the same purpose he always did, though you could sense a tension in his posture, a reluctance masked by the pageantry.

Lucilla followed close behind him, her chin lifted with practiced grace. When the Master of Ceremonies announced her name—“Lucilla, the daughter of Emperor Marcus Aurelius!”—the crowd erupted into thunderous applause, a stark contrast to their earlier indifference.

Beside you, Ravi let out a low whistle. “They still adore her.”

“They always will,” you murmured, watching as she ascended to the royal seats under the guise of honor, though you knew better. The two Centurions flanking her were not mere escorts but guards, a subtle display of control that would escape the average onlooker.

From this distance, it seemed she embraced the accolades, her every gesture perfectly measured. But you caught the slight flicker in her expression when she glanced toward Acacius.

“You honor us with your presence. Speak to the plebeians, Acacius,” Geta commanded, his tone laced with condescension.

You held your breath, sensing the reluctance in Marcus’s stillness. He exchanged a look with Lucilla, brief but telling, before his gaze swept across the crowd, searching. When his eyes found yours, something in his demeanor shifted—resolve, perhaps, or a need for grounding.

Finally, he rose, stepping to the railing as the crowd quieted, anticipation thick in the air. His voice, deep and steady, carried over the expanse with ease.

“I am not an orator, nor a politician,” he began, the simplicity of his words a sharp contrast to the pomp surrounding him. “I am only a soldier. Real heroism is not the stuff of games.”

A murmur rippled through the crowd, confusion and intrigue mingling as Acacius’s words sank in.

“It reveals itself to us only in the service of life itself,” he continued, his gaze unwavering. “I have seen bravery in men during war, and from women, too—bravery that does not falter in the face of fear but rises to meet it. And even, once, in this arena.”

Your breath hitched, the weight of his words pressing against you. Though his gaze never left the crowd, you felt as though those words were for you alone.

“If you pray,” Marcus’s voice deepened, his tone almost pleading, “pray that the gods will deliver us bravery like that. Because Rome needs it now.”

The silence that followed was profound, the kind that held more weight than applause. Then, slowly, the crowd erupted, their cheers cascading through the Colosseum like a wave.

You watched him step back from the railing, his expression inscrutable as he returned to his seat. But as the applause thundered on, his eyes found yours again, and in that brief moment, you saw it—something unspoken yet unmistakable.

Ravi nudged you gently, breaking the spell. “He’s good, I’ll give him that.”

You nodded, your heart still pounding. “Better than they deserve,” you said softly, though your thoughts were far from the Emperors.

The tension in the Colosseum was recognized as the opening ceremony came to an end. Caracalla and Geta clapped from their royal seats, their applause mechanical and devoid of genuine enthusiasm. Below, the Master of Ceremonies stood nervously, his voice amplified by the great copper horn.

“From the South Gate... fighters from the stable of Macrinus of Thysdrus!”

Your gaze darted to the southern entrance, where the gladiators emerged into the blinding sunlight. You recognized one of them—Hanno of Numidia—whose name Ravi had told you earlier. The crowd greeted them with scattered boos and jeers, a stark contrast to the grandeur of the arena itself.

Hanno walked with measured steps, his expression stoic as he led the small group to the center of the arena. His shoulders bore the weight of more than just the armor; you could see it in his eyes.

“And from the stables of our Emperors Caracalla and Geta themselves: Glyceo the Destroyer!”

The eastern gates creaked open, revealing a towering figure clad in ornate armor, seated atop a great white rhino. The crowd erupted in frenzied cheers, the noise reverberating through the stone walls. The rhino trotted with surprising agility, its hooves kicking up clouds of dust as it carried Glyceo with the ease of a seasoned warrior.

From your vantage point, you saw the glint of weapons strapped to the rhino’s side—an axe, a sword, a mace, and a bola. Glyceo reached for the mace, gripping its heavy handle with a confidence born from countless victories.

The first gladiator dared to challenge the beast, stepping forward with his sword raised. He attempted to dodge the rhino’s charge at the last moment, but the creature’s speed and precision were unmatched. The horn struck him with brutal force, sending him flying across the arena before the rhino finished him off with a savage thrust.

Your stomach churned as the body was tossed aside like a ragdoll. The crowd’s cheers only grew louder.

Hanno stood still, his gaze fixed on the carnage. Then, almost imperceptibly, he crouched and scooped a handful of sand from the arena floor, letting it sift through his fingers. The gesture was hauntingly familiar—a ritual Maximus had performed before every fight.

Beside you, Ravi murmured, “Do you see that? He remembers.”

You glanced at Lucilla in the royal box, noting the flicker of something in her expression—recognition, perhaps, or sorrow. But she quickly masked it, her face hardening as she turned back to the arena.

The rhino charged again, this time with Glyceo’s mace raised high. Hanno sidestepped at the last possible moment, but the rhino’s horn clipped him, sending him sprawling. Dust clouded the air as the beast wheeled around, disoriented by the sunlight.

Hanno was quick to act. He flung the remaining sand into the air, creating a bright, blinding curtain that obscured his movements. The rhino charged again, unable to see clearly, and slammed full force into the arena wall. Glyceo was thrown like a ragdoll, his body hitting the stone with a sickening thud.

The rhino staggered, its massive frame reeling as it struggled to regain its footing. Hanno retrieved his sword and advanced on Glyceo, who was already scrambling to his feet. Their blades met in a clash of steel, sparks flying as Glyceo’s superior strength began to overwhelm Hanno.

You leaned forward, gripping the stone railing as Glyceo delivered a brutal series of blows, forcing Hanno to his knees. The crowd chanted, their bloodlust palpable.

Lucilla gasped, turning away, her hand trembling as it gripped the edge of her seat. Even Macrinus, who had been watching with a calculating gaze, shook his head slightly.

Glyceo raised his short sword, poised to deliver the final blow. He paused, turning to the royal box for approval.

“Shall we spare his life, brother?” Geta asked, his tone mockingly casual.

Caracalla shrugged, a cruel smile playing on his lips. “I wouldn’t mind seeing some blood.”

Geta ignored him, his attention shifting to Lucilla. “Lucilla, shall we show mercy?”

Lucilla hesitated, her voice trembling. “Mercy.” The word was barely audible, choked with guilt and something deeper.

Geta stood, raising his fist. The crowd fell silent, holding their breath as he slowly extended his thumb upward, granting Hanno his life. The Colosseum erupted in cheers, but the celebration was short-lived.

“No,” Hanno said, his voice cutting through the noise like a blade.

The crowd stilled, murmurs of confusion rippling through the stands.

“No mercy,” he repeated, his tone resolute.

Geta’s face twisted in disbelief. “Gladiator, we have spared your life. No one refuses—”

“I will not accept mercy,” Hanno interrupted, rising to his feet despite the blood dripping from his wounds. He turned to the royal box, his gaze unwavering. “I would sooner face your blade than accept Roman mercy.”

The crowd erupted in chaos—laughter, jeers, and shouts of encouragement mingling in a cacophony of sound.

“Fight on, then, fool, and die,” Geta spat, his face reddening with embarrassment.

Glyceo lunged, his mace swinging in a wide arc. Hanno ducked, his movements fueled by desperation and fury. With a final burst of strength, he seized his fallen short sword and drove it into Glyceo’s abdomen. The mighty gladiator staggered, his expression one of shock before he collapsed, lifeless, into the sand.

The crowd roared its approval, chanting Hanno’s name as he stood victorious. From the royal box, Macrinus smiled, his eyes gleaming with intrigue. You couldn’t help but watch Hanno with a mixture of awe and apprehension, your heart pounding as the weight of the moment settled over the arena.

COLOSSEUM HOSPITAL ROOM — NIGHT

The dim light of flickering oil lamps cast wavering shadows on the rough stone walls of the makeshift infirmary. The smell of blood, sweat, and burnt herbs clung to the air like a heavy shroud. Ravi moved methodically among the injured, tending to other gladiators with a calm, steady hand.

You were left alone with Hanno. He sat on a wooden stool, his posture tense despite the exhaustion etched into his features. A deep, jagged wound marred his upper arm, the torn flesh angry and raw. Mosquitoes buzzed around him, drawn to the scent of blood and sweat.

You crouched beside him, your hands deftly inspecting the wound. “This needs to be cleaned and stitched up,” you murmured, glancing up at him briefly. His eyes met yours, dark and unreadable.

He broke the silence. “What’s your name?”

You paused, meeting his gaze again as you answered, giving your name. You nodded toward the other side of the room. “That man over there is Ravi. We’re both doctors—or as close to it as you’ll get here. More men die of infected wounds than in the arena itself.”

Hanno tilted his head slightly, watching you as you prepared the tools of your trade. “This is going to hurt,” you added, your tone both matter-of-fact and soft.

You handed him a small pipe, its carved edges worn smooth from use.

“What’s this?” he asked, examining it with mild suspicion.

“Devil’s breath and opium,” you explained. “For the pain. Breathe it in.”

Hanno hesitated for only a moment before placing the pipe between his lips. He inhaled deeply, his expression neutral as the sharp, bitter taste hit his tongue. Slowly, his eyes fluttered shut, and his breathing steadied.

“The effects are different for us all,” you said gently, noting the way his features softened, the tension in his shoulders easing.

When his eyes opened again, they were hazy, unfocused. “Your voice…” he muttered, blinking at you as if trying to place something familiar.

“What about it?” you asked with a small smile, distracting him as you began cleaning the wound.

“It’s… nice,” he replied, his words slow and slightly slurred. “Kind.”

You gave a soft chuckle, focusing on the task at hand. “Don’t get used to it. This part isn’t going to feel so kind.”

He took another draw of the pipe just as you began stitching the torn flesh with catgut. The needle pierced his skin, and he hissed through clenched teeth, coughing as a puff of opium-laden smoke escaped his lips and drifted into the air between you.

“Where’d you learn your trade?” he asked, his voice rough but steady.

You kept your focus on the stitches, your hands moving with practiced precision. “Why do you ask?”

“You’ve got a light hand,” he said, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

You glanced up briefly, the corners of your lips quirking. “You don’t strike me as someone who hands out compliments easily.”

The faint flicker of the oil lamp threw warm shadows across the stone walls of the infirmary. The low hum of muffled groans and whispered prayers filled the air, mixing with the faint metallic tang of blood and herbs. His dark eyes, hazy from the drug, remained fixed on you as you worked.

“I don’t,” he murmured, his voice soft and slow. “But I’ve had enough wounds stitched up to know the difference between butchery and care.”

The corners of your lips quirked upward, and a soft chuckle escaped you. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“It is,” he said, his tone unusually earnest.

Your laugh echoed softly in the quiet room, and his lips curved in response. Hanno was inebriated now—high on the devil’s breath and opium. He looked at you, his gaze almost childlike in its wonder, as if the haze had stripped away some of the weight he carried.

“What we do in life echoes in eternity,” you said suddenly, your voice a mix of reverence and melancholy.

The words hung in the air, timeless and heavy. You paused, your fingers stilling over the bandage.

Hanno blinked, as if chasing a memory. “I feel I know those words…”

You smiled faintly, your eyes meeting his. “I can’t take credit for them. They’re written on a tomb here, over the bones of a gladiator.”

He let the words sink in, his gaze distant but thoughtful. You returned to your work, your hands moving with practiced precision as you tied off the final stitch and smoothed the bandage over his wound.

“There,” you said, leaning back to admire your handiwork. “I think that should hold.”

Hanno’s eyes drifted to his arm. He reached out, almost absently, and ran his fingers across the crude stitches. His touch was featherlight, as if testing the reality of it.

You stood, gathering your tools and reaching for the pipe still clutched in his hand. But before you could take it, he brought it to his lips again, inhaling deeply. The motion was slow and deliberate, his dark eyes fixed on you through the curling smoke.

You paused, watching him, but said nothing. After a moment, you gave a small nod and turned back to pack away the rest of your supplies.

“Why did you let me take another hit?” he asked suddenly, his voice softer now, as if the opium was tugging him toward vulnerability.

You glanced over your shoulder, your expression unreadable. “Because sometimes, we need the pain to go quiet for a while.”

Hanno held your gaze for a long moment, his lips curving into a faint, lopsided smile. “You understand more than most,” he said quietly.

You didn’t respond, but the weight of his words lingered. As you turned back to your work, his voice broke the silence again, softer this time.

He said your name a tender echo in the quiet room. “Do you believe it?”

“Believe what?” you asked, not turning around.

“That what we do in life echoes in eternity.”

You stilled, your hands tightening slightly around your tools. Finally, you turned to face him, your expression thoughtful. “I think… the choices we make, the lives we touch—they ripple outward. Whether it’s eternity or just a fleeting moment, I think it matters.”

Hanno’s gaze didn’t waver, even through the haze of the drug. “You matter,” he said, his voice low but steady.

The words hit you harder than you expected, and for a moment, you could only stare at him. He wasn’t smiling, wasn’t teasing. He meant it.

Your throat tightened, but you forced a small smile. “Rest now, Hanno. You’ll need your strength.”

He didn’t protest, but his eyes lingered on you as you turned away, your heart inexplicably heavier and lighter all at once.

LUCILLA’S VILLA – EVENING

The villa shimmered under the moonlight, its alabaster walls soaking in the silver glow. Marble columns cast long shadows across the flagstones, and the air hummed with the gentle chorus of cicadas. Somewhere in the gardens, the delicate aroma of night-blooming jasmine mingled with the faint tang of the sea breeze.

You stood at the edge of the terrace, a delicate glass of spiced wine cradled between your fingers. The cool air kissed your skin, but it couldn’t chase away the heat simmering beneath—an ache born of exhaustion, frustration, and something you dared not name. The day had unraveled like a tragedy, the gods watching with cruel amusement as you struggled to hold it together.

Behind you, the sound of soft footfalls broke the stillness.

“You stand there as though the weight of Rome rests on your shoulders,” a voice drawled, smooth and familiar.

You turned, finding Lucilla leaning against the stone archway, her golden hair catching the light of the lanterns flickering nearby. She regarded you with a mixture of curiosity and knowing—Lucilla had a way of reading people like scrolls, unrolling their secrets with unnerving ease.

“Does it not?” you replied, attempting a wry smile, though it faltered before it could fully form.

Lucilla stepped closer, her movements fluid, regal. “Rome’s weight has crushed stronger people than us,” she said softly, joining you at the balustrade. “The key is learning when to carry it—and when to set it down.”

You scoffed, swirling the wine in your glass. “And how often do you set it down?”

Her lips curved into a faint smile. “Far less than I should.” She glanced at you from the corner of her eye. “But I’m not the one standing out here, staring at the stars as though they hold the answers.”

The faint humor in her tone was a lifeline, grounding you. “If the stars do have answers, they’re not sharing them with me,” you muttered, shaking your head.

Lucilla’s expression softened, and she reached out, placing a hand lightly on your arm. “The answers aren’t in the stars,” she said. “They’re in here.” She tapped lightly against your chest, her gaze unwavering. “You’ve already carried so much. Don’t forget you’re allowed to put it down—just for a while.”

Her words settled over you like a balm, and for a moment, the tension in your chest eased. You opened your mouth to respond, but the sound of distant laughter interrupted, drawing both your gazes toward the villa’s golden glow.

Lucilla sighed, stepping back. “The night calls,” she said, her tone laced with resignation. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Lucilla,” you replied, watching as she disappeared into the shadows of the villa, her presence leaving an unspoken promise of strength in its wake.

The door clicked shut behind you, sealing off the night’s hum. You exhaled, leaning against the wood, letting the day’s exhaustion seep into your bones. But the solace was short-lived.

“Finally,” a low, gravelly voice murmured from the shadows.

You startled, your hand flying to your chest. “Marcus!” you hissed, your heart pounding. “What are you doing here?”

He stepped forward, his broad frame illuminated by the flickering lantern light. His tunic was slightly disheveled, and his dark curls fell across his brow, softening the hard planes of his face. Yet his eyes—those piercing eyes—held a fire that made it impossible to look away.

“I couldn’t stay away,” he admitted, his voice low and rough. “Not tonight.”

You crossed your arms, more to steady yourself than to rebuff him. “And you thought sneaking into my quarters was the solution?”

Marcus’s lips quirked into a faint smirk, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “You’ve been on my mind all evening,” he said simply, the weight of his confession hanging between you. “Do you know how maddening it is? Seeing you, hearing you, but never being close enough?”

Your breath caught, and you shook your head, trying to keep your composure. “Marcus, this—whatever this is—it's dangerous. You know that.”

“Danger is nothing new to me,” he said, stepping closer. His presence was magnetic, and you found yourself rooted in place as he closed the distance between you.

“Marcus…” you began, but your voice faltered as his fingers brushed against yours, tentative and fleeting.

“Tell me to leave,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “And I will. But if you don’t—”

The unspoken promise in his words sent a shiver racing down your spine. You opened your mouth to protest, but instead, you found yourself tilting your face toward his touch as his hand cupped your cheek.

“I’ve seen you fight for others, care for them,” he said softly, his thumb tracing a gentle line along your jaw. “Let me fight for you. Let me care for you.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, unbidden and unwelcome. “You don’t understand what you’re asking,” you said, your voice trembling.

“I do,” he countered, his forehead nearly touching yours. “And I’m asking anyway.”

His breath was warm against your lips, and before you could stop yourself, you closed the distance, your mouth meeting his in a kiss that was equal parts desperation and surrender.

The world fell away in that moment, the chaos and the danger replaced by the warmth of his embrace. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer as the kiss deepened, his lips moving against yours with a fervor that left you breathless.

You pulled back, your chest heaving, your hands clutching the fabric of his tunic. “This doesn’t make the world any less dangerous,” you said, your voice barely audible.

“No,” he agreed, his gaze locked on yours. “But I’d burn the world to ash just to feel the heat of you.”

His words sent a shiver through you, a dangerous mix of devotion and desire. And as he kissed you again, softer this time, you realized that perhaps the fire he promised wasn’t something to fear—but something you’d already been consumed by.

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deadhands69 · 1 month ago

Text

Harder, Softer, Harder

MDNI

Dabi x gn/afab Reader

Dabi helps after you're hit with a sex quirk Contains: consensual sex/non consensual situation I wanted to keep these as consistent to the same story as possible, hence Dabi leaving with two girls even if this one is written as more canon/slightly broken introverted Dabi. (I’m still amused by the idea of him being an absolute slut in the Shigaraki fic though.) Typically, I don’t assign jobs/quirks to the reader unless it’s relevant to the story. This isn’t a crucial part of the plot but a record store reader seemed like so much fun. After seeing High Fidelity too young to understand it, all I got out of that movie was that I wanted to work in a record store when I was older. For obvious reasons, my mom laughed at me and I never ended up with that job. But it seems sooo cooollll. So, record store reader. Maybe you’re there full time or just work there part time for fun or something. [wc: 2.2k]

This is part of an ongoing series: shigaraki version - bakugo version

It was supposed to be a quiet night. The wind lightly blew warm summer air over your skin as you walked through the shopping district with one of your best friends. You were leaving a small cafe and planned to visit a few shops next. Everything would have been fine, if not for -

A sudden commotion draws your attention to the sidewalk as you’re walking out the door. Out of nowhere, you can’t see. Everything is dark and you would almost assume it’s in your head if not for the screaming and shoving surrounding you. Instinctively, you and your friend grab each other, ducking to the ground in an effort to find clear air. Ten seconds feels like an eternity but just as quickly as it came on, the darkness dissipates.

A man rolls off the sidewalk in front of you and you immediately know it was him. Having never seen his face before, you connect the dots: he’s the sex quirk villain that's been all over the news lately. He has to be. He has the face of someone you’d imagine looking through the window of a locker room. He winks at you before running across the street towards some dumpsters in front of an alleyway. That brief interaction makes you sick to your stomach.

Sick isn’t all you feel.

Your insides twist in a familiar way, aching. Empty.

Fuck.

Before you can dwell on it, a familiar figure in the crowd catches your eye.

His hoodie blocks most of his face, but you’d recognize those eyes anywhere.

“Dab-” you begin to shout before he cuts you off.

“Hey, quiet,” he looks around, “I gave you that name in confidence. Not to yell in public.” His eyes continue shifting, but he sees that no one notices him in the chaos.

“You doing alright?” he asks.

“We’re… fine,” you reply, “both of us got hit with that quirk though.”

You stare up at him expectantly. He does know what that villain's quirk does, right?

“Your friend here have anywhere to go?”

“Yeah, she needs to get to her boyfriend’s apartment.”

“Alright,” he says in a gravelly voice, putting an arm around each of you, “let’s get out of here before heroes anyone else shows up. Lead the way.”

The walk drags on forever, for how short it seemed earlier in the night. You can’t help but notice how much warmer Dabi feels against your body. It’s like every part of you is drawn to him. He only has an arm around you but you can’t help but want more.

He follows the directions you give to get your friend to her destination. Her boyfriend is already waiting outside the building to take her in. Once you see that she’s safely taken care of, your mind begins to wonder. Dabi never said he’d help you, he’s just escorting you…somewhere?

“Where to next?” you ask.

“Don’t you need to…” he trails off, his intense eyes looking you up and down.

“Yeah,” you answer, trying to hide how flustered you are by quickly turning the direction of your own living space.

He follows.

Honestly, you don’t know him all that well. You know his name is Dabi (or Touya, as he sometimes changes it up when putting in special orders) and he’s the cute regular at your work. You could list all of his favorite songs, but you have no clue where he lives. What he does throughout the day.

Fortunately, you don’t live far.

Unfortunately, it’s proving to be the longest four blocks you’ve ever walked in your life. With every step, you notice the way your pants brush against you. Turning you on even more than you thought possible for such a mundane situation. It doesn’t help having a hot guy close. And god, you can’t stop staring at him.

Of course you always found him attractive, but today he’s irresistible. There’s something sweet in the way he smiles. How he looks at you like you’re the only person alive. The way he casually moves through the world as if he's unaware of how insanely attractive he is. It's effortless.

Dabi takes your arm, wrapping it around his to make sure you don’t lose your balance in the street. You look woozy, he’s decided.

The first time you ever talked to him, he was looking for a specific album, which happened to be your favorite band/musician. The two of you talked for half an hour about music before you offered to order the record for him to pick up later. Since then, he’s come in once a week like clockwork to look at the new arrivals and talk about music. Lately, he’d been bringing you coffees after you yawned once at work. When you brought it up, he brushed it off like it was no big deal and never spoke of it again.

All green flags so far though. He seems sweet so you don’t have many apprehensions about bringing him home with you. Besides, he’s your best option and you’ve secretly wanted this for a while anyways.

Before you know it, you’re walking through the door to your own home. Work crush in tow.

Good thing you cleaned up a bit earlier today.

“I like the space,” he says, as you hang your keys by the door.

“Thanks,” you reply awkwardly. It’s nice enough, you think to yourself. Not really noteworthy. He must just be making conversation.

For how much you couldn’t keep your eyes off him and how painfully turned on you are, seeing him in your living room is still, well, nerve wracking. He seems too beautiful to actually be here, yet there he is. Staring at you with his hands in his pockets. Wearing a slight smirk while he waits for you to invite him into your bedroom. Or your couch.

Deep breath, he knows why he’s here.

“So,” he starts while walking closer to you, stopping less than a foot away. “Still feeling fine?”

Nope. Your face is flushed and you’re overwhelmed.

He knows that too, he can tell by the way you squeeze your legs together. How your breathing is different than usual. But he’s not just going to come out and say it. You never really asked for his help, as much as he’s willing to give it. He can be confident, to a point. But he’s waiting for you to approach him.

The coffee. Showing up every week, specifically during your shift. His arm around you while you walked here. Standing closer than friends typically do, but not fully closing the distance.

He’ll bring himself to you, knowing exactly what you need, but you’ll have to be the one to reach out for him if that’s what you want.

And you do.

You want him.

So, you reach for him.

He’s so close already, his face just above yours as he looks down at you. Gently, you run your fingers up his neck.

He freezes at the touch.

It's what he wants, really. He’s been waiting for this moment since he walked into the record store and met you. But comfort is a feeling he can’t quite place. Your hand softly caressing over his jaw. He can’t feel much on the scarred area, but it’s the meaning behind it that counts. He doesn't hate it, it's just a lot at once.

“Are you okay with this?” you ask, his face still blank as he stares at you. “It doesn’t hurt, does it?”

“Yeah, I’m fine” he smiles, shaking himself out of it, “can’t feel anything there anymore.”

“Oh,” your fingers trail over the soft skin of his cheek down to his upper lip, “how about here?”

“Yeah, that I can feel.”

You can’t help yourself, you have to ask…

“What about…” your eyes shift down.

“You trying to find out?” he laughs.

“I mean, you did come home with me after I got hit by a sex quirk.”

“Yeah, yeah," he rolls his eyes. "Come on. Which room is you?”

Since you met Dabi, you've dreamed of this. You could never have imagined it happening in real life, but it's finally happening. You haven't even had time to celebrate touching him, now he's in your room. Hands on your hips, guiding you to the bed. Pushing you playfully onto the mattress before climbing on top of you. He leans in closer, nose brushing against yours. You take it upon yourself to close the space between the two of you. Bringing your lips to his, focusing mostly on the parts you know he can feel.

He tenses, but kisses you back. It's interesting watching his typical nonchalance crack away.

He continues kissing you, slightly awkwardly. Pausing slightly whenever your touch becomes too affectionate. He’s loosening up though.

His warm hands slide up your shirt, resting against your ribs. Occasionally squeezing as he becomes more comfortable with the closeness. Eventually, he takes your shirt off entirely.

You do the same, pulling his hoodie off to grip his t-shirt underneath.

At this point, you’re so horny it’s painful and kissing him is only making it worse. In desperation, you grab his hips and slam them into you hard for any relief.

His eyes light up.

This, he can understand. He's comfortable with roughness. It's not like he spends every night fucking his hand thinking about it, but when he does he imagines it more like this.

“Like that, [y/n]?” he huffs teasingly, pounding down into you, harder than you'd managed to earlier.

You only manage to gasp in response.

It’s like you opened Pandora’s box, giving him permission to live out his fantasy. This sparks his confidence again.

He pulls your bra strap down, flicking his tongue over your nipple. Eye contact never wavering while you melt into a puddle beneath him.

“Dabi, fuck,” you moan at his touch.

The pressure in your gut builds as he continues to rub against you. Both of your pants begin feeling increasingly in the way. You yank his belt undone, shoving his tight jeans down with it. His dick springs forward, tenting his underwear.

Looks like you’re not the only horny one.

“Like what you see?” his husky voice asks. He sounds self-assured, but based on everything else you’ve seen this evening you know there’s a bit of a question in there.

“Mhmmm,” you reach out to grasp him through the fabric.

Continuing to follow your lead, he pulls your pants off as well. Tossing them to the floor of your bedroom. His hand is softer than you expected when he slides into your underwear. Rubbing intensely against your clit while he kisses you deeply. You’re about to pull the last of his clothes off when his other hand grabs your wrists to pin them above your head.

Everything in you wants as much of him as possible.

“Need you to fuck me,” you whine into his ear.

He smirks, pulling his dick out himself. It’s thick. Making you wonder how you’d never noticed it before in the tight pants he wears. How does he hide that?

Without letting go of your wrists, he lines himself up with one hand. Rubbing his tip between your lips before pressing into you. He’s certainly not being gentle, but you can tell he’s holding back.

He pauses.

Wide eyed, for a moment he looks more surprised than you that this is happening. Regaining composure, he begins to move his hips.

It’s everything you’ve needed all evening and then some.

“Fuck, you’re taking me so good,” he groans down at you.

Some combination of the heat building in you all night, the stretch of him, and his praising voice sends you over the edge. You’ve never cum so fast in your life but there’s a first for everything. Dabi looks pleased with himself.

He fucks you hard through your orgasm. Pressing your hands into the bed. Your head is spinning as the quirk wears off; you feel detached from everything but him. His eyes are nearly glowing as they stare down into yours.

His hands loosen around your wrists, sliding away from your arms onto the bed. You find yourself chasing them, slipping your fingers between his. His movements stiffen and he glances away.

It’s interesting. He had no apprehensions around burying his dick in you but holding hands makes him nervous.

You’ll save that one for another day.

Instead, you run your fingers over his arms. Feeling the smooth scars as you make your way to his shoulders. His movements become less constrained. He fucks into you hard and smooth, building the heat in your body once more.

Your pleasure crashes over you like a wave again, leaving you gasping while you grip his white t-shirt. Pulling him into you. Your hips angling to bring him as close as possible while you feel yourself squeeze around him.

“You feel amazing,” you whisper in his ear, “you’re so fucking perfect.”

At that, he can’t hold back any longer.

His breathing becomes more erratic. Hips slamming harder into you until he gives one final thrust, filling you with cum. Head drooping as he groans into your neck.

You run your hands through his hair, letting him relax while you both catch your breath.

The neck of his shirt hangs loosely over his shoulder, oops. You can’t help but kiss the area above his collar bone sweetly. Even if you know he can barely feel it. He tenses and you realize it was too much, pulling away.

“Don’t stop,” he whispers.

m.list

#dabi smut #dabi x reader #my hero academia smut #dabi #my hero academia x reader #mha dabi #bnha dabi #touya x reader #dabi todoroki #bnha touya #touya todoroki #mha touya #touya todoroki smut #my hero academia

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astralis-ortus · 8 months ago

Text

agent(s) of chaos

✱ boyfriend!bc x gn!reader

— there's a reason why you love game nights with your boyfriend's second family.

w.count → 1.1k genre → fluff, a dash of comedy warning → mild cussing (i think? it's just hints), the chaos that is ot8 stray kids, one time jump, and reader is referred to as baby! no gender specific attributes mentioned aside from reader's hair being soft, heh a.n → based on this request! not gonna lie, i actually got a slight headache from imagining the chaos throughout the fic lol even in my head they're /that/ loudㅠ heh ⋆ see masterlist

game nights with your boyfriend and his friends might not happen often; but once they all come together and get the event date set?

oh, a (good) chaos will definitely ensue.

“goddamit—chan hyung! get your eyes on the game!”

“yeah! go get it, seungmin!”

“felix you bronze—step on it! catch up!”

a collective of cheers and disappointed groans were imminent as soon as yoshi, seungmin’s character of the night, crosses the finish line; leaving dry bowser and baby mario—which respectively belongs to han and chan, in second and third place. If you didn’t know any better, you would have thought the boys were just competing in some major mario kart competition.

“wah chan hyung—you’re seriously so bad at this!” changbin loudly protests—to which you genuinely thank yourself for pushing through with the rented villa agenda—while throwing his head back against the sofa in desperation. lee know, their other unfortunate teammate on the other hand, is busy pretending to box against your cackling boyfriend, having a string of ‘sorry’s falling from his lips.

“argh!” switching his target in desperation, changbin immediately puts his hands together and faces you with his attempt of salvation. “please switch teams with me! i can’t do this any longer! he’s so bad!” he pleaded, nearly earning himself a thrown nintendo controller on the head from chan if it wasn’t for your swift hands, snatching the heavy plastic from your pouting boyfriend. Well, not that you mind though, considering how adorable your boyfriend looked while he sulks.

“yah yah yah—changbin hyung!” seungmin intercepted—and if you know something about the kim seungmin, then his iconic multiple-hit comment is about to pop off. “no one told you to be so bad with rock paper scissors anyway!” the younger pointed out, a smug grin etched across the span of his face, “that’s why you ended up with chan hyung!”

“hey!” your boyfriend was the first to react, pointing at the smug younger one—and of course, it’s not changbin if he didn’t follow suit.

“yah! you prick!” huffing and puffing, changbin was quick on his feet as soon as seungmin stuck out his tongue, further provoking the curly haired male while he ran away—only to fish more of changbin’s loud shouts after the younger. “yah kim seungmin! come back here!”

series of laughter follows the disappearance of the two; to which everyone know by heart now, is also the best time for the rest of the kids to take their water and bathroom break—and alongside that, also became the best time for chan to finally take a proper look at you.

“you’re still good, baby?” the switch in his demeanor made you giggle as you lean into chan’s warm touch on your cheek. despite having witnessed the shift countless of times, the way chan’s voice became very soft when he spoke with you never fails to make your heart flutter. “it’s almost 1 am, aren’t you sleepy yet?”

“i’m good,” a smile follows your simple answer whilst your arms found their home around your boyfriend’s waist, snuggling closer to his warmth while chan lifts your legs to cross over his lap. “can last at least 2 more games, i think. besides, i drank some of the coffee jeongin brewed earlier, remember?”

chan’s exaggerated sigh along with his usual disapproving head shake ignites another set of laugh within you, fishing another pout to appear on his plump lips. “knew i shouldn’t have trusted jeongin,” he dramatically piched his nose bridge, trying to look as disappointed as he could. “he’s part of the bad peaches club after all.”

“i heard that!”

jeongin’s resounding shout from the kitchen startles both you and chan—causing your laughter and chan’s to grow in volume. “not sorry!” chan’s reply simply earned a grunt from the younger, not wanting to further continue the discourse while he’s busy arguing with hyunjin about who can get their hands on the last can of beer in the fridge.

“but anyway,” chan’s gaze softened as they returned to you, running his fingers mindlessly in your soft hair, “tell me whenever you feel sleepy, okay? we’ll go to bed right away.”

“i know,” an exaggerated sigh left your lips as you immitate your boyfriend’s previous antics, “this isn’t my first rodeo, you know?” you snickered as you playfully stuck out your tongue—which in turn only further cause the adoration in his chest to bubble.

oh, how he wish you’re all alone right now. he’d immediately tackle you into a cuddle and plant several dozens of light kisses across your face and neck—but he must resist. after all, he wouldn’t want the kids to tease you over something like that.

“gosh, you’re so annoying,” he hummed, lips betraying him as it formed into a massive grin across his lightly flushed cheeks, “think you’ve been hanging around the kids too much. i should keep a schedule for your visits from now on.”

“nooo!”

4 round of games and 20 minutes later, another wave of commotion returns as the race for second place—since first place has again been coveted by the representative agent of chaos, the kim seungmin—ensues between lee know and han.

“han jisung! step on it step on it!”

“lee know hyung! shi—why are you getting as bad as chan hyung!”

“yah! baby, tell—“

chan’s words immediately died down in his throat as soon as his gaze landed on your peacefully sleeping face—plea to defend himself from his kids vaporized and replaced with a soft thump in his chest. You looked so peaceful with your head resting against his shoulder—a massive contrast to the chaos surrounding you—and chan could feel his heart swell. you looked so cute; especially with your fingers wrapped tightly around the controller seungmin had just handed you a few moments prior.

had you been fighting off the drowsiness all along?

carefully pulling you into his lap, chan smiled as he gently peeled the controller off of your hand before dropping it directly onto hyunjin’s unsuspecting lap, startling the younger.

“ya—“

“shut it,” chan hissed between gritted teeth, easily pulling hyunjin’s focus from the chaos happening on screen and to you—who immediately nodded his head knowingly when he realized what’s happening.

“yah lee min—ow! what was th—oh.”

chan’s next target was changbin—who immediately received a slap on the back instead of chan’s quiet warning. it’s rather effective, however, considering outside of the two current players, everyone now has their eyes on you.

“keep it quiet—if my baby wakes up because of any of you,” chan eyed every single one of his kids, not even caring how severe the teasing he’ll receive by the daylight will be for whatever he’ll be saying next,

“i’m not gonna let it slide.”

©️ astralisortus, 2024. | likes and reblogs are highly appreciated♡

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singukieee · 7 months ago

Text

—my all time favourite bts fics (pt. 2) ᯓᡣ𐭩

consists of my personal favourite bts fics that I've read countless of times. including those from other platforms, such as Wattpad, AO3, and Patreon.

For some works that are cross-posted between tumblr and wp/ao3, I'd only link them to the latters bcs I find it easier to read and navigate the stories on those. but I also tagged all the authors I know are here and linked the rest so you can check their blogs out yourself!

I'll also separate this list into several parts simply because there's too many... So it'd be easier for you guys to navigate!

red means unfinished

blue means finished

🗯️ curator's note

(sorted by alphabetical order)

Dreams of You by seoktishie

You are a theater actress who dreams of becoming a successful Broadway star. You’ve dedicated your whole life hustling for the show, surrounded by a supportive family and friends you never thought you would lose your best friend and boyfriend on the same day. This puts your dreams to a halt, and you decide to take a break and a soul-searching trip to Korea, where you meet a successful artist that reconnects your love for the arts. OR You accidentally meet Kim Namjoon of BTS, and you had no idea of how an amazing person he is nor how he is the leader of the biggest boyband to date!

🗯️ the yearning and pining *chef's kiss*

Epiphany by 2stanornot2stan

Your soulmate mark seemed self-centred to you "I'm the one I should love" Who would ever want to love someone with that as their soulmate mark?

🗯️ this one is painful. but writing's so good, doesn't fail in pulling my heartstrings.

Escapade by bonnehh_

"Where the hell am I?!" He shrieked, stumbling over his feet like a newborn deer. He was a panicking mess, spinning around in circles to see the unfamiliar sight of giant trees and bushy plants covering the land. The forest was heavily rich with greenery, vegetation and strange fruits. Fallen leaves covered the ground, creating a crunching sound after every step he took. "Calm down, Sweets." I calmly voiced amidst his loud screeches. My words cut through his mess of a mind making him freeze on his spot. Turning on his heel, he noticed me. He stumbled back immediately, possibly because I was covered in angry, red scratches and the bandages covering my arms alerted the male. "What the fudge?!!?! Who- who are you??" He shouted, alarmed by my…seemingly beaten-up figure. "I'm Diana. Welcome to the game." I smiled softly. Hoping my excitement can keep a hold of itself for the sake of keeping the man from getting scared. Dumbfounded, He could only let one word out, "Huh?". Oh boy.

🗯️ a cool one! many adventures and mc has freakishly good survival skills. this honestly cured my longing for that one fic that's no more that was also survival, adventure and game themed with slight crack. I think it was called 'Ready Player One'? (not that famous book and movie). but I think it was a translated ver of a chinese ff on another platform. Idk I still missed it very much, it was also very good. (If you know anything abt this, pls dm me!)

Ethereal by @purpleyoonn

After leaving your home in need of a fresh start, you open a bookstore with the hopes that the words you read could bring you solace. You never realized that the books you loved would bring you home instead.

🗯️ I love soulmate stories, this author also has good writing so

Euphoric Endeavours by haveagreatday

Through a series of curious happenstances, the Boys of Bangtan - your campus' most popular and most handsome group of individuals - set their sights on you, a regular student with a stubborn streak and a wayward mouth. Strangely enough, the mere sight of them sets your instincts off, red-lights flashing in your brain - danger, danger, danger, danger. It's too bad that they can't seem to leave you alone, though. They like you too much.

🗯️ enemies to lovers, anyone?

Everything Falls (Into Place) by Hiromi_20 / @blog-name-idk

"I… I might know someone who has a spare room," your brother finally muttered hesitantly. You perked up from where the couch had been swallowing you. "What! And you didn't tell me?" You accused. "You'd be living with a bunch of dudes." "Oh my god Jackson," you groaned, rolling your eyes. "The fact that you're even suggesting them means that you know them all and they're good people, right? It's not like they're gonna murder me and hide my body in the walls or something." "Well, yeah, but…" "But WHAT?" you almost screamed in frustration. "They're all… hot." Silence for several moments. Then you started guffawing uncontrollably, unladylike snorts escaping from your lips. "You are such a dork," you gasped between laughs, tears coming to your eyes. "If I promise not to let them gangbang me, will you please ask?"

🗯️ another really well-written crack fic! goshhh this one's so goood! this one's the real friends to lovers, gosh the pining is just *chef's kiss*

Finding My Pack by @untaemedqueen (paid on Patreon but so worth it)

In which an all-alpha pack unexpectedly found their mate isolated in a sterile room. So the only right thing would be to pamper and love her to make up for all those years she spent alone and lonely.

🗯️ spicyy 🥵 but also cute. I love protective mates

Flaw in The System by Strayberry_

She has 8 moons on her wrist. So do they.

🗯️ honestly Idk what to say about this one. just prepare your tissues for this family of misfits that fit so well together.

Full House by fillomina

Y/N has a steady job and lives alone, that is, until she tags along with her friend to the shelter. Jimin, Hobi, and Yoongi have been waiting to get adopted, and their chance has finally arrived. With the small hybrid pack now living with Y/N, her life never has a dull moment. As Y/N gets used to her new family, she also begins learning more about old friends, making new ones, and getting a very full house.

🗯️ I'd say that I don't like the fact that yn's kinda treated as a doormat at some parts, but it's still good and quite well-written found family fic.

Getting Back Into The Swing of Things by @jellifysh

Hearing her voice now, Namjoon was reminded of the times when she was all he had. How she was his everything, supported him with everything she had, even if it meant giving him the shirt off her back. "Joon?" Y/n sniffled. "I know it sounds crazy, you don't even have to, its been years," "No," Namjoon was agreeing before he could even think, before he could even remember the other people who lived in the house just the next room over. "No, its okay, I mean, we promised each other right? We'd never turn our backs on each other?" "You can stay with us, it'll be fine I promise, I'll handle everything, don't worry at all, it'll be great! Like, old times, okay?" Namjoon was tripping over his words now, he just felt like if he didn't see her now, he would be too late for… something. What, he wasn't sure, but there was an urgent need to have her home safe.

🗯️ just re-read this one again literally yesterday, still as good as the first time. I love strangers to friends to lovers.

Her by untouchablerave

The question hangs between you, and you’re desperate to ask it. Usually, you don’t mind much who is on the other end of the appointment, as you’re so focused on a list of kinks, trying to map out a scene in your head, but this time, the ‘who’ is all you can focus on. Your boss looks at you. “I can’t believe I’m about to say this but… do you know BTS?” Your head snaps up in shock. “You’re fucking with me,” you gasp. “I’m dead serious,” your boss replies. “Jeon Jungkook just came of age. He wants to lose it right away.”

🗯️ spicy but soft soft softtt

Hidden Marks series by Havenesa

❶ Hidden Marks

What does it mean to be soulmates? What do I love about her? What is the reason? Does there need to be a rational reason to love someone? Maybe I love her amber eyes, or the way she tries to hide her smile whenever we get into playful arguments, or her love for just living. Maybe I just love her because she is simply just Han Sera.

🗯️ This one's so angsty yet so good, the writing's also so good at making the characters so human that I'd always end up sobbing at every re-read.

❷ Connecting Hearts

What defines a soulmate? Is it the mark that you were born with, only shared with a selected few? Or a bond which was created through pain and suffering? You'll have to read to find out.

Highlight by Alphathyx

Hana attends Atlas Academy of Arts also known as the AAA to pursue her passions in Hiphop with best friend Hoseok and Prince Charming Jimin. The school gets selected along with other arts schools to compete in an inter-school competition which prize could open doors to any arts students dreams. She along with seven boys, discover what it means to love, but a tragic incident spirals the competition and them into a mystery no one saw coming.

🗯️ friendship and struggle to success <3

Hotel California by Deliebre

You are a badass business guru that works for a huge gaming company. Your home is Korea but you travel often. You are in California for work but keep bumping into hot Korean men, which makes you want to do more than bumping...

🗯️ immediate connection... yes please!

In The Dark by BearPawBeach

"How can that be? I am looking right at you. I am speaking to you right now." "That's the thing. I don't know! That's why I came here today. Yesterday, when you laughed at me, you laughed at me. I almost didn't believe it myself, but the more I thought about it, the crazier it sounded. So I came here to see you and to know if you can see me!" she blurted out. He could not believe the words that were coming out of her mouth. "Look, you don't need to lie to me. There is no need to make up some crazy excuse to meet someone." "I'm not lying! I really am invisible," she argued back. The man just threw his hands up to concede and turned to walk away from her again, walking right out of the building. The girl followed in hot pursuit. "Do you really not believe me? Why would I make something like that up? Yes, I know it sounds crazy. If I were you, I would probably think it's nuts too, but I am telling you the truth!"

🗯️ mc is invisible in this one, story's kinda sad and cute!

In Your Roots by sweetinsanityy

Jungkook is the perfect alpha, a little too perfect. Being the youngest in Bangtan, a group full of alpha's, friction has been happening between him and the boys. He's too strong, too dominating, too wild, and too much for Bangtan to handle. The perfect solution? An omega just for himself. You happen to be the perfect candidate. But the other boys want a taste of you as well. Or, you're hired to be an omega for Jungkook to take care of, and maybe he and the rest of the boys get too attached.

🗯️ another one about the boys being absolute simps!

Iridescent Love by @imnotlauriane

From a fated meeting to a life filled with wonders, the path of discovery is much, much harder than what I had prepared myself for. Especially when my identity, the only one I knew of ends up being a total lie.

🗯️ sad... but it got better. and what did I say abt imnotlauriane's stories? they're all good!

It's a Little Complex? by Infired_Mochi

Starting college and moving into a new apartment with complete independence has been your goal. Due to all the hard work at the cafe during your high school years, and your parents pitching in a few dollars, you can afford to stay in the apartment that is just the right size. However, did you get more than you bargained for? A few other college students occupy the rooms next to yours, seven to be exact. Eight rooms reside on the third floor of the apartment complex and yours is on the farthest right wing, apartment number 308. Just wait until you meet them.

🗯️ sooo it's a little complex... just read it!

Late Bloomer by basicwitch13

Despite growing up in a wolf pack, you were never able to shift nor had a second gender present itself. It seemed, by all accounts, that you were a typical human. So you carried on, burying yourself in your work as a sociology professor—until one of your students introduces you to his pack and changes everything.

🗯️ yes to yearning, pining, and healing.

Like Crazy by @euphoricfilter

The story of seven loves across eight lives.

🗯️ so freakin well-written

Little Do You Know... by @yoongiofmine

In a world where idols and actors can’t date, whether it be because of contracts, lack of time, or the dangers that involve having your personal life leaked, the market opened up for a new work field. Playmate Agencies emerged to supply the entertainment world with highly trained companions for hire. Bangtan is looking for new playmates. And you just happen to be the one all of them choose.

🗯️ another idk what to sayy, just read bcs it's so gooood.

Magic Shop by AriZedd

In which Yn is meeting new friends (and an old one) getting charmed day by day.

🗯️ just read this crack fic, strangers to friends to ... I'm obsessed.

PART 1 | PART 3 | PART 4 | NAVI

#san recs #hybrid bts #bts poly #bts x reader #fics recs #bts ot7 #bts ot7 x reader #bts fic

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pretty-circa006 · 4 months ago

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Unhealthy Attachments pt.1

Coach! Negan x Student! F! Reader

summary Negan, your gym coach, takes pity on you after seeing the way your peers treat you. tags mentions of bullying/ mild bullying, second person pov (sorry lol this is old pls forgive me) note this is an old WIP that i'm choosing to post because i haven't had time to write anything new (I WILL EVENTUALLY, I PROMISE, BUT COLLEGE IS DRAINING MY FREE TIME). this is part one of a multi-part series, maybe it'll even evolve into a longfic, who knows. btw you guys will have to pry coach negan x student reader fics from my cold dead hands bc i loooove writing these.

wc 1.3k

*you are responsible for your own content consumption. if this is something you DO NOT like, simply DO NOT read or interact! :) *

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You stood lined up with the other students in your PE class, waiting to be chosen by the team captains for this class' soccer game. It didn't even phase you how every other student was picked before you, leaving you the last one standing until one unlucky captain had to pick you. That's just how things went, you were always the odd one out. Even now, everyone wore the usual school issued PE uniform of a t-shirt and shorts, while you had on the sweater and sweatpants version- in ninety degree weather. You were just honoring your father's, the town's local pastor, principles of modesty. Being the pastor's daughter felt isolating. Nobody invited you to things or wanted to be friends with you for fear that the indecencies of their typical teenage behavior would get back to their parents by way of the pastor; and of course he'd get that information from none other than you, his daughter. You never would, though. In middle school, you learned the hard way to not be such a narc, but by then it was too late and nobody trusted you or even wanted to be near you.

"Over here!" you shouted to your teammates, wanting them to pass you the ball. You had a perfect shot to the other team's goal. Like always, they ignored you, but it didn't matter because they scored anyway. You didn't give up on trying to be a team player, though. The gym coach, Negan, was watching the game closely and you wanted him to see that you cared and tried to put effort into his class. Maybe it was because he was the only person who ever paid you any attention, but the fear of letting the handsome man down weighed heavily on you.

"Guys, I'm open!" you yelled. Your desperation to be a part of things was becoming so pathetic that Negan had to direct his focus elsewhere. Maybe it was by mistake, but the ball came rolling your way. Hope blossomed within you. It sounded silly, but you hoped that even something as little as you scoring a goal would make your class like you again. You kicked the ball, sending it flying to the opposing team's goal. It would have made it in if someone didn't intercept- someone from your own team, you notice- and kick it directly at you. You didn't have time to dodge it because it had already smacked you square in the face, knocking you over. You clutched your nose as you writhed on the floor in pain, salt being rubbed even further into your wound by the snickers of your classmates.

Negan blew his whistle and called a foul. He profanely scolded the students about their bad sportsmanship and lectured them on treating their teammates fairly. He helped you up off the floor and led you to his office with an arm wrapped around your shoulder. You sat in one of the chairs with your nose plugged up with tissues per Negan's orders after it started bleeding. It didn't seem broken, so he didn't deem your injury bad enough to send you to the nurse.

"You can go back now," he told you once fresh blood stopped flowing from your nose between tissue changes.

"Do I have to?" you asked with teary eyes. You were tired of all the bullying and just ready to graduate already. Your senior year was almost over and you were legally an adult, so why did you still have to put up with everyone else's childish behavior.

"You're all healed up. Don't see why you needa be in here any longer." It was obvious that he wanted you out of his office, probably feeling the same way your classmates felt about you. It shouldn't have surprised you, yet it stabbed you in the heart. Your chin and lips quivered as you blinked back the tears burning in your eyes.

"C-can I just stay in here?" you cringed at the way your voice cracked. He rolled his eyes and sighed.

"Just because your sucky ass team is losing doesn't mean you can hide out here and skip class."

"That's not why!" you pleaded.

"Then why?" he asked.

"Everybody hates me!" You couldn't keep it together after finally saying it out loud. You sobbed like a baby, tears streaming down your face and snot dripping from your nose. You were ugly crying but you didn't even care, it wasn't like you had anyone else's respect to lose. Negan got up and closed the door in an attempt to save you some dignity. Your breathing became short and rapid as your bawling made it difficult to take in oxygen.

"Teenagers are so goddamn hormonal and dramatic. Nobody hates you, kid," he said disinterested.

"E-even you d-d-do!" you choked out before going back to wailing. He felt bad for you. He saw the way others treated you and it made him feel worse seeing you long for the acceptance of people who rejected you and took pleasure in your pain. But that's high school for you.

"What makes you think I hate you?" he asked, genuinely curious. He didn't hate you, not even close. He just couldn't stand seeing you walking around like a kicked puppy-dog, it was pitiful. You tried to explain your reasoning, but everything that came out of your mouth was an incoherent blubbering, stuttering, and hyperventilating. He pulled you up from the chair and cradled you in his chest, just letting you sob into his sweater. He hushed you and rubbed your back in soothing circles. It was the best he could do, he knew his words sure as hell couldn't offer the comfort he wanted to give you. Your sobbing eventually calmed into small hiccups and occasional sniffles.

"Why does everyone hate me?" you whispered. He wanted to tell you that they didn't and that's just how high schoolers are, but he didn't want to lie to you.

"You're almost outta this goddamn shit hole, kid. Jus' keep your head held up high and finish the year off strong." He clapped a strong hand on your shoulder for added reassurance. You gave him a small smile before trudging out of his classroom and to the locker room now that the class was over.

...

Negan comforting you in his office that day made you feel like he was a safe space. He seemed to be the only person who cared, or bothered to do anything about how others treated you, even if it was just the bare minimum, you felt it was better than nothing.

"Coach," you muttered shyly, standing outside his open office door in the gym. He glanced up at you from whatever work he was doing and immediately sighed. It was a miracle to him that you were oblivious as to why people bullied you. Here you were, dressed so matronly in a long floral skirt that resembled an old woman’s wallpaper and an awful knitted sweater. He knew you were a pastor’s daughter, but did you really need to dress the part.

“What do you need, kid?” He asked, focusing on his work again. “Can I eat lunch in here?”

“Why? The bathroom crowded or somethin’?” He joked. When you nodded your head yes, he immediately felt guilty. He motioned with his hand for you to sit in one of the chairs before his desk. You happily took a seat before offering him half of your sandwich.

“It’s turkey,” you said when he looked at you strangely. He accepted the half and ate it while he worked and you sat in silence enjoying the change of scenery.

“You don’t actually eat lunch in the bathroom, do you?” He asked.

“There’s nowhere else for me to sit,” you admitted shamefully.

“That is fuckin’ disgusting!” You shrugged your shoulders and went back to your sandwich, embarrassed to let Negan see how pathetic your life really was. He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.

“Look, if you have nowhere else to sit, you can eat lunch in here.” You visibly perked up, a your face splitting into a joyous smile.

“Really?”

“Don’t make me fuckin’ regret it.”

next part ▶︎

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1dcommunityficrecs · 21 days ago

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Rec List: New Authors!

Welcome to 2025! And as we say goodbye to 2024, this list is taking a moment to shout out new authors who ventured into 1D fic this year -- welcome aboard. It's truly amazing to me that 15 years since the band was formed, and 9 years since they as a group put out new music or performed together, new people are still joining the fold -- or dipping their toes into writing and posting fic, after hanging out in other spaces for a time. I'm sure plenty of people are joining via the solo music, but it still warms my heart to see this community that has meant so much to me continuing to grow and flourish. New fans are just as valid as old fans, and are absolutely essential for a healthy fandom ecosystem.

So with that said, here are 9 fics from people who started posting for the 1D fandom in 2024. And some of these writers have been incredibly prolific -- two of the fics listed are over 100k, and one of the authors has sixteen 1D fics already! Here's hoping we see more from them in 2025 and beyond -- please join me in giving them a warm welcome to the community!

Notorious by violetlilachyacinth (64021, Mature, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) Warnings: period-typical homophobia, implied/referenced rape/non-con

1946. WWII has just ended, but there's still work to be done. To help bring Nazis to justice, U.S. government agent Harry Styles receives a new assignment: recruit Louis Tomlinson, the American son of a convicted German war criminal, as a spy. Neither knows the full extent of the task they're asked to complete nor the full impact they will have upon each other. The stakes are quite high.

Reccer says: This fic blew me away! It's an adaptation of a film, and I can imagine how much work the author did to make it their own. Harry and Louis' connection leapt off the page. And no spoilers, but I loved the ending.

freaky friday by tracksuitponytail (1700, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) – fic post Warnings: dubious consent due to body swap

It’s Friday the 13th—a day like any other for Louis until he wakes up in the middle of the night... in his best friend's body.

Reccer says: SO well written! I enjoyed it so much, and it really cheered me up on Thanksgiving

Coffee and Confessions by Vyshv (676, General, Zayn Malik/Harry Styles)

A cozy coffee shop in New York City, with the warm aroma of roasted beans and the soft hum of chatter, two lost friends find each other.

Reccer says: This fic so so soft and lovely! I love the feelings it evoked

Hazelnut by BlackRose_Lilly28 (100, Not Rated, None)

Another drabble based on a twitter prompt. This time: "Hazelnut."

Reccer says: Fun to read, and very sweet!

here for the thrill by worldsofdreamers (3357, Explicit, Niall Horan/Zayn Malik)

niall wore a cowboy hat and he was just saving a horse

Reccer says: we needed a fic of niall in his lil cowboy hat and this fic DELIVERS. always love fics from this author. they’re very good writer and they are a good go to if you’re in need of a ziall fic.

All in the Golden Afternoon by leighllbealright (126028, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) – fic post

When Louis Tomlinson needed to find a new preschool for his daughter, he wasn't expecting the one across the street to be everything he and Goldie ever needed. Or: the one where Louis is closed off, Harry is the weirdest person ever, and Gemma may as well be a psychic. Somehow, calico-cat-style, they forge a beautiful family from pieces that don't quite fit.

Reccer says: This series is one of my top 10 from 2024. Brilliant characters, gorgeous writing, Harry’s sweaty elbow-pits, everyone is a flower, naked treehouses and more.

Whole Lot of History by Blue_Green28 (73592, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) – fic post

With 3 children coming out of their twelve years long marriage Harry and Louis are essential parts of each other's lives even though they have moved on with new partners since their divorce ten years ago. Or have they?

Reccer says: Exes to Lovers, Miscommunication, mpreg

everything of mine is yours by blueskiesrry (33000, Explicit, Harry Styles/ Louis Tomlinson) – fic post

With Harry in New York finishing up his PhD and Louis in London working as a solicitor, they try to navigate their eight year situationship including almost-daily phone calls, the occasional indulgence of casual phone sex, and endless gossip sessions as the feelings they have for each other get harder to ignore.

Reccer says: The scene where Louis reads a Lincoln biography out loud to H in the bath? Swoonworthy!

The Handbasket Diaries by Hazel_tea_dreams (160326, Mature, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson)

London’s expensive and work’s a grind but everything is a little better when you have good mates who understand you. The narrow brick flat building in Brixton, home to Louis, Liam, and Zayn and affectionately referred to as The Handbasket, is more than a place to catch winks and reheat leftovers. When Harry stumbles into its midst (and Louis' lap) with flatmate Niall in tow on a particularly hot Pride weekend, none of the five of them will be fully prepared for the shenanigans, tomfoolery, true friendship, or steamy romance that will unfold over the year.

Reccer says: This was so fucking lovely. I binged it in two days—only put it down to scream about it on Bluesky (and sleep and like, essential stuff). The writing is witty and tender and, apparently, communication kink is my jam. This is the only fic (in recent memory) that I finished and then wanted to restart immediately.

#rec list #category 23 #new authors #one direction #zayn malik #liam payne #niall horan #harry styles #louis tomlinson #1dficvillage #1d rare pairs #1dsource #hlficlibrary #hlcreators #tracksintheam #trackinghome #allwaswell16 #alwaysxlarrie #ficsfor4am

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fanaticsnail · 5 days ago

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I just want to say: thank you so much for bearing with me while I haven't been as active with producing fics as I have in the past. There are a few in the works that are very close to being done, but there's a creative block in the way that I can't seem to hack at with a mattock.

I'm also quite unwell and being put through the ringer with my health (shout out to my family, friends here and on discord for being a listening ear while I vent about the silly issues going on. You're all just beautiful, and I adore you so much).

As soon as my block moves and my health comes back, I'll be focussing on a few reader fics (and a few OC fics because I've just fallen hopelessly in love with OC content, including OC x reader).

Series line up:

Birthday series: Heat, Borsalino, Bepo

Pollen series: Smoker, Ace

Dreaming of you: Red Hair Pirates

Sapsorrow finale: Mihawk fairytale au

Solo line up:

Wire

Bogard (because my sister wants that suave, noir gentleman)

Fishfolk: Hatchan, Kuroobi, Jinbei, Arlong, & Tobiuo (my OC)

I am doing my best while focussing on my health and keeping my house in order - also, it's currently the school holidays and the snail household been going a little crazy as a family doing activities together. Good fun, aside from the illness.

Love you all. Again, thank you for being here and waiting so patiently for something more substantial to be produced from your resident snail 🖤🐌

#personal post #snail answers

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alwaysakin · 8 months ago

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The Vampire Diaries Universe Fic Recs

Once again putting my unhealthy amount of fanfic knowledge to good use. Here's my list (non-exhaustive) of the best vampire diaries & originals fanfics. Includes Klaroline, Bamon, Kolvina, and more.

Bamon Fics

Before I Take My Flesh Away by Orig1n - the fic where Bonnie and Damon are comically bonded, and she hops around in his timeline pre (and during) the series. Tragically unfinished, but completely incredible! Kudos for developing Stefan and Damon as brothers and making me not hate Lily Salvatore. Also love the Arthurian lore.

if you love me (don't let go) by sarcastic_fina - this is a heartbreaking deconstruction of Bonnie and her victim mentality, and shows the strength of not only her romantic relationship with Damon, but her friendships with Caroline, Matt, and Tyler. So sad, but so good!

Bloodstone by cactusfinch - Bonnie time travels to 1864 (with all the problems entailed). Her relationship with Damon is done well here, and her friendship (sort of!) with Katherine is fun as hell.

rest for the wicked (hope for the weary) by castelia - Damon and Bonnie go on a road trip together after the prison word. I am a sucker for mutual pining, and this fic does it so well!

Fifty-Five Years by turningofflights - written from Elena's perspective, after she reads Bonnie's diary entries and learns how Bonnie and Damon fell in love. A bittersweet, believable love story for Bonnie and Damon.

Other Bonnie Bennett Ship Fics

The Edge of Night by Szajnie - a crossover between season 3 of the Originals and season 7 of the Vampire Diaries, where Bonnie goes to New Orleans. She's absolutely in her element here as the most powerful New Orleans witch, takes the supernatural world by storm, and everyone has a happier ending because of it (including her!). Absolutely love her friendships with Davina, Vincent, and Freya, and shout-out for being the only fic to make me care about Cami! Truly, this is great. The NOLA gang is the family Bonnie deserves, and the Bonnie/Klaus is so believable.

Kai Parket Screwed Us (Until Bonnie Bennett Screwed Him) by hysteriaww - exactly what it sounds like. Bonnie shows up to help Josie and Lizzie deal with the prison world and her and Kai's insane relationship weirds everyone out. Deals with the Gemini Coven in a really interesting way. Hilarious, and with mild Damon and Alaric bashing. BonKai.

Season One, Epsidoes One-Three by BorgiaBabe - a rewrite of the first three episodes of TVD with Bonnie as a proper main character. Her love interest is a softer Kai, and it's great! Bonnie really deserves better.

the night light hits off, turning kisses to bites by donutworry - an insane, dark, twisted Bonnie and Kai romance, where they're the only ones in the prison world from the start. I absolutely love the Gemini Coven lore in this fic.

Klaroline Fics

Make them bow by for_darkness_shows_the_stars - Klaus appears in season 1 of the vampire diaries. it's Klaroline, but still super gen, and all the characters get their own compelling arcs in it. Especially love the way Elena and Stefan are written.

One of A Kind, Two of a Kind, or the Three Musketeers by Phandancee74 - Caroline is an ancient nymph who was erased from memory by Malivore. She still helps the Mystic Falls gang out (and her relationship with Bonnie is great)! The Klaus/Caroline is angsty and lovely.

Calling on a Friend by Phandancee74 - 5 year old Josie gets Klaus's number. Shenanigans ensue. Short and cute as hell.

Sanctuary in their Hearts by thatsanotherlovestory - Caroline leaves before the season 8 wedding, and heads to New Orleans with Klaus. A fun story, but still so sad Bonnie didn't get her happy ending in it. The twins are so cute in this.

Let's do the Time Loop again! by kcatdino - on the night of the sacrifice, both Klaus and Caroline get stuck in a time loop. It's so funny to watch them get more and more deranged.

sweet present of the present by VintageLilac - it's Caroline, not Rebekah, who raises Hope while New Orleans is at war. I absolutely love Katherine in this fic, and though Hayley gets the short end of the stick it's written quite well.

The Wolf by Yokan - a witch version of Caroline is the one pregnant with Klaus's baby in the originals. And while season 1 doesn't change a lot because of it, the later one's definitely do! I love the Klaus and Caroline relationship, and Caroline & Elijah friendship.

Elena Gilbert-Centric Fic

The stars were brightly shining by adlyb - a fic where Elena is pregnant with Klaus's baby. It's so hard to describe! A little twisted, a little sweet, and a thorough depiction of Elena's mental state.

The Forgotten by MissNMikaelson - Elena time travels and gets dropped in the middle of Klaus and Kol's war in New Orleans, circa 1914. The flashback scenes in the fic are great! Eventual Kol/Elena.

blame it on the stardust by allwritenow - the fic that looks into if Elena's doppelganger nature affected her more. And a truly beautiful Caroline, Bonnie, and Elena friendship.

Off by a Single Degree by Tarroko - when Elena's phone dies, Damon walks her home and never compels away her memories, and her parents never die. This softer, sweeter Elena is so believable, and I love the way canon immediately shifts. Amazing development of her parents, Anna, and Enzo. Delena.

Katherine Pierce Centric Fic

afflictions eclipsed by glory by passionesque - in 1864, right after the fire in Mystic Falls, Elijah finds Katherine. They team up together against Klaus. This deals with Katherine's trauma and cunning so well! A slow build to Elijah/Katherine, involving him acknowledging his faults.

General Mystic Falls Gang Fics

in another life (i would let you go) by sarcastic_fina - Elena wakes up in a world where she isn't the doppelganger and no one knows her. An interesting deconstruction of the affects she's had on her friends.. Manages to be both Elena-bashing and sympathetic at the same time. Minor Steroline and Bamon.

Originals Family Feels

It All Comes Crumbling Down by AlwaysAkin - can I do a self-rec? I'm doing a self-rec. Hope is born a century earlier, and grows up in New Orleans with the Mikaelsons. I'm particularly proud of my Hope-Marcel bond and young!Hope voice in this one.

A Twist Through Time by fandom_lover_101 - Hope is sent back in time to the Vampire Diaries season 3. She messes everything up. Absolutely love the slow Hope & Klaus relationship built here, and her friendship with Elena is cute too. Minor Klaroline, Delena, and Handon.

Always & Tomorrow by Viretta - another tragically unfinished fic. Set after Hope jumps into Malivore in Legacies, it involves the dead Mikaelsons being resurrected, and the kids from the Salvatore School travelling to New Orleans (with a newly activated tribrid Hope). This is a Mikaelson family story in the bloodiest, best way. Has Handon and Klaroline in addition to the canon originals couples.

if no one in the entire world cared about you (did you really exist at all?) by nevermore_evermore - Elijah is erased from the minds of everyone he loves. Kol is (eventually) there to help him through it. An interesting take on Elijah's place in the family.

A Million Mistakes by mon-amour-eternel - a fic where Caroline is also an original, and her and Klaus are Marcel's parents. Sadly unfinished, especially considering the rarity of Marcel-centric fic!

But Stand Brave, Life-Liver by crownjrose - A Hayley-centric fic! Her foster parents come to New Orleans and see the way her life turned out. Interesting closure for Hayley, and a sweet Klaus/Hayley relationship.

Kolvina Fic

(finally) you and me are the lucky ones by yorkes - a long one-shot where Kol and Davina are soulmates. It's cute as hell! And Kol and Davina really grow into each other in this one.

The Vixen and the Fox by BlueBooThalassophile - be warned, this read is long as hell. But it's also great. Davina time travels to the Vampire Diaries season 4, gets involved in the fight against Silas, and everything goes sideways immediately. Love Davina's friendship with Hayley and bond with Marcel in this one. Every character in both shows appears in this one.

#the vampire diaries #tvd universe #fanfic rec #fic rec #bamon #klaroline #delena #bonkai #kolvina #bonnie bennett #caroline forbes #elena gilbert #klaus mikaelson #hope mikaelson #the originals #damon salvatore

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theorganasolo · 20 days ago

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2024 Fic Rec List

I know I'm late (sorry friends) but wanted to do my end of year shout out to my favorite fics I've read! Most of these will be for Javi P because he's my beloved but onward we go!

Learning to Live by @wheresarizona Arizona, bestie, I love love love seeing how much this fic has grown and where you have taken Javi and Cielito over the years. You GET Javi so much and it comes across in your writing, very well. I appreciate every snippet you have texted me about these two - and I treasure our friendship as well <3

It's Never Too Late and Forever and Always by @javierpena-inatacvest MADELINE you have created such an amazing universe with these two stories! As a midwest girly who loves the Blackhawks (even if they suck) and Javier Peña it's so easy to put myself in reader's shoes - thank you for feeding me with the breeding kink in all your fics haha

Hubby and Wife by @notjustjavierpena - I really cherish every update you give in this universe! Every time I go I the javier peña x reader tag and see an update I get so excited! Love seeing Javi get the big family he deserves. I find myself rereading so many of the installments

Worth The Wait by @kteague K I constantly come back to this series so many times, it just hits so good, and I love the latest installment you gave us this year! Love these two so much!

First Anniversary by @wildemaven Heidi I love Poppy and Dieter so much! And this update on the pair of them was so sweet, I LOVE the interview format that you did, it was really unique <3

A Litany of Lethe by @kiwisbell I remember reading this at work at my jaw just dropping over how beautiful it is, you wrote Javi's turmoil SO well here - I really hope you write more for him because you just GET who he is.

Pump by @morallyinept First off let me just say you are SO talented for making this as hot as it is and it actually doesn't have that much smut! I love for the vivd description's of the man's dick so thank you for feeing my horniness

Spiaggia, amore e limone by @thundermartini - You gave me the dream of vacationing with Javi in Italy, this was such a joy to read!!

Firsts and When In Positano by @honeyedmiller You write Javi so so so well! When In Positano sent me to the moon in back with the honeymoon in Italy PLUS the baby making, I remember reading this several times <3

Tastes So Sweet by @jolapeno - When I say this DID THINGS TO ME when I read it (and then reread and reread it). Honestly your whole javi master list is amazing <3

The Hostage by @javier-pena - This was SO good! You really wrote the tension so well in this fic and it inspired me to read News of a Kidnapping. (also I literally am the most annoying in your notes reblogging your javi gifs every day so thanks for putting up with that aha)

Hummingbird Has Landed by @wardenparker Connie I absolutely adore your Soulmate Sunday fics and they really make my Sunday's brighter :) This was so so so fun to read, I loved every aspect of it!

Make Me Sweat by @itsokbbygrl - THIS WAS SO GOOD! The little part about y'all possibly having a baby gave me butterflies

Married Man by @mellowswriting MEL I love your Javi and your writing so so so much! The wedding band kink just GETS ME

Neighbors by @gothcsz When I say this SUCKED ME IN SO FAST, also the angst is literally killing me but you do it so well! Can't wait to see what else is in store here! (also it won't let me link to your story directly so linking to your Masterlist)

Landslide by @frenchiereading - This was so so so cute! I loved seeing Javi with his little family <3

Like Snow on the Beach by @guiltyasdave Combining my two loves of Javier Peña and Taylor Swift. I love the hopeful note this ended on.

Have a Good Night by @punkshort This was such a sweet story and really unique! I loved the flower shop aspect of it all <3

Honey by @yxtkiwiyxt I love the way you write Javi and this was such a fun holiday one shot!

Also want to shout out Maybe Today, Maybe Forever by @hopelikethemoon- Literally in my top 3 Javi fanfics, everyone needs to read this! It's 150 chapters of smut and Javi fluff - the world building is everything

And last but certainly not least a shout out to @manndo for simply being the best <3 - Mel there are literally no words I can put here but I cherish you so much!

#javier peña #narcos

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bree-peasant · 20 days ago

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One for the Ages - a Kakashi x fem!Reader fic

Chapter 5/5

(Back to Chapter 1, Chapter 4)

Author's note: Thank you guys for following this series! Although this is the last chapter, I have more ideas for these two, so might revisit in the future. In the meantime, if anyone has any requests, I'd be excited to try prompt writing! I hope you enjoy the ending, happy reading! <3

Word count: 2.4k

Summary (from part 1): A new shinobi joins the Konoha ranks and Kakashi finds himself inexplicably drawn to her. Gai also appears in this one!

Warnings: none in this chapter!

Enjoy! ♡

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Kakashi had tried his best to put Y/N out of his mind throughout the day, but the thought kept pestering him. He kept imagining her laugh, throwing her head back at something Genma said, and he would almost see red at the thought of it. Even worse, the idea of the two of them hooking up, would send him spiralling. As the evening drew nearer, he selfishly decided he needed to intervene.

He felt so guilty spying on them, as they stumbled towards her flat, but more than anything, he was annoyed at the fact that she'd invited him back. Deep down he knew how unfair and irrational his actions were, but he just couldn't stop himself from pressing further.

He hadn't even dropped his book the previous night. He just needed an excuse to interrupt their evening. Kakashi had used a substitution jutsu on a random box he'd found hiding under her bed, in support of his alibi. Despite his shame at how low he had stooped, part of him felt a sense of satisfaction from stepping in and showing the other jōnin who's territory this was. Then again, he had no right to claim Y/N as his own.

Burdened by these contradicting thoughts, Kakashi fled to his usual haunt - the park bench, where he'd bumped into her all those nights ago.

Back at her flat, Y/N sat down heavily. Although feeling mostly sober by now, her thoughts were at a disarray. She was upset by Genma's departure, she thought they had great chemistry and felt disappointed by his easy surrender. Having said that, she couldn't entirely blame the guy. Kakashi's notoriety followed him around, the awful nickname 'friend-killer' on everyone's minds when he walked passed. She wasn't afraid of him, but she could understand Genma not wanting to get on his bad side.

Oh, Kakashi. Just thinking about his antics earlier made her furious. What was he playing at, storming in there like that, pretending he'd spent the night with her. The more she played the scene over in her head, the more riled up she became. His nonchalant tone and sarcastic manners burned inside her mind's eye. He must've done it on purpose. But for what reason?!

Starting to feel herself go crazy, Y/N decided that she needed to confront the gray-haired trickster. And she knew exactly where to find him.

Unsurprisingly, he was in the park as if expecting her. She stormed towards him, unconcerned by the late hour.

"What the hell was that back there?" She demanded, letting her anger loose on him.

"I don't know what you mean." Kakashi acted casual, not looking up from his book.

"Oh please! You and I both know you have a million copies of that book, stashed in your house. This was deliberate!"

"I take it he's left, seeing as you're here, shouting at me."

"I'm not..." she had to consciously lower her voice. "I'm not shouting at you. And yes, what did you expect after that scene you caused. How did you even know he was there?!"

"I hear things." His sarcasm was infuriating.

"Why, Kakashi? What could you have possibly had to gain from embarrassing me like that?"

"Well, if you must know, Genma's a notorious playboy. I didn't think he was good enough for you." He replied, trying to convince himself as much as her that this had been his motivation.

She was astounded by his audacity. Recovering her composure, she spat back at him:

"Frankly, that's none of your business!"

"As your friend, I thought it my duty to intervene and..."

"No!" She cut him off, losing her nerve entirely. "You lost any authority over my lovelife the second you refused to be the focus of it." Her voice was no longer angry, but riddled with sorrow. Refusing to let herself fall apart in front of him, Y/N turned around and ran back to her flat, leaving a guilt-riddled Kakashi behind.

"Oh, boy...what have I done." He sighed into the night.

His earlier satisfaction from achieving his goal had completely disappeared, substituted by shame and regret. He'd recognised the hurt in her voice, forcing him to realise how he'd toyed with her tonight. He put his head in his hands in desperation.

One thing remained unclear to him; why had he done it? He'd acted almost impulsively, refusing to acknowledge a simple truth. Whether he wanted to or not, he was finally faced with an answer - he'd been jealous. Of course, he knew he had feelings for her, but he'd tried so hard to repress them for fear of losing her like so many before, that he'd hardly acknowledged them. And now... In his ignorance, he'd acted foolishly and threatened to lose her anyway.

"I have to fix this." He said to himself, still unsure of his next move.

Over the next few days, the rookie genin teams competed in the preliminary round of the chunin exam, where their numbers were significantly depleted. The remaining kids would go on to face each other in the finals, a month later. The Hokage called an assembly of all chunin and jōnin of the village.

"As you all know, many influential lords and politicians will be joining us during the final stage of the chunin exam. We need to showcase not only our village's strength, but our financial merits as well." The Hokage spoke.

"This is why, we are hosting an event to gain new investors, who will support our shinobi training program. It'll be held in one week, and I have personally invited some of the wealthiest merchants and title holders. I expect you all to attend and work towards charming our guests."

Great, Y/N thought, she only had a month to prepare Shino for the final matches, and now this.

None of the attendees seemed particularly pleased by the news, but one look at the Hokage's stern expression, and they all knew they had to do what was expected of them.

Leaving the meeting auditorium, it was Kakashi's turn to pull Y/N aside.

"Can we talk?" He said. Seeing her reluctance, he added a please at the end of his question.

She sighed and led him to a corner in the hallway, where it was quiet. They hadn't seen each other since that awful argument, but it still felt as fresh as the night it happened.

"Y/N, you have to know how sorry I am. I acted stupidly and things got out of control. I never meant to hurt you, truly." Kakashi looked genuinely remorseful as he spoke.

She'd planned on staying mad at him, but his sincerity cracked her stern exterior. There was no point in denying it, she had a soft spot for him, and she would forgive anything. But things couldn't go on like this.

She took a deep breath, letting her guard down.

"I want to be your friend, Kakashi, I really do. But I think we should stop with the late nights and surprise visits...both of us." She trailed off, avoiding his eye. She knew he'd be disappointed, upset even. She knew it, because her own heart was breaking as she spoke.

"We've gotten ourselves so emotionally intertwined, I think we can't lay any boundaries anymore."

He didn't interrupted her, didn't argue. How could he, when what she was saying was the truth.

"We can be friendly around each other... just not in the way we have been so far." She concluded.

Kakashi nodded silently. They remained in place for a moment.

"If that is what you want." He finally spoke, then promptly turned around and walked away.

Y/N sighed. What she had wanted was to be with him, but he'd taken that possibility away. Now it seemed they were both hurting.

The following week passed quickly. Between training with Shino and her other jōnin duties, Y/N had hardly any time to dwell on her recent personal drama, and she was glad for it. Only at night, when sleep would undoubtedly evade her, she desperately wished to see him, fighting the urge to seek him out with all her strength.

"It'll get easier." She kept telling herself, never fully believing it.

Kakashi applied himself vigorously to training Sasuke, even teaching him the chidori. He was somber and quiet the rest of the time, which wasn't unusual for the typically withdrawn copy-ninja, or at least so it seemed on the outside. In truth, he was suffering at the loss of Y/N more than he wanted to admit.

He would roam around the village at night, hoping to bump into her, if even for a second, then quickly hiding at the faintest of sounds, ashamed of his actions. He wanted to respect her wishes, yet his heart ached more and more with each day he kept away. He was beginning to realise that the most foolish thing he had done, was deny his feelings for her. He'd shown her everything, up to his rotten core, and she hadn't looked away. Kakashi loved her for that. Kakashi loved her. But wasn't it too late?

The investor event came along. It was to be held in the assembly halls, with live music, drinks and dancing. Although not entirely willing, the village shinobi put on their best clothes and their brightest smiles, to fulfil their duties for their homeland. Even if those duties were to charm the wealthy businessmen and women, whose money they needed.

Y/N wore her best yukata to the event, her hair neatly pinned back and with flowers tucked in it. As she walked into the brightly lit room, she was met by a dazzling Gai.

"Y/N, you're a vision of spring and beauty!" He said, taking her hand in his. "With your good looks and mine, we're sure to get some hearts racing tonight! And some money in our pockets" He whispered the last statement and winked at her.

She giggled at his usual flamboyance and allowed him to lead her away towards some guests. She was listening to a boring conversation between two merchants and politely smiling along, when she spotted Kakashi walking in. He wore a dark grey hakama over his kimono, which made him stand out in the crowd. Her first thought was how handsome he looked, but she quickly scolded herself over it and instead motioned a wave, when he looked her way. To her surprise, Kakashi didn't respond, but quickly ducked and disappeared amongst the pool of people. She wondered if he maybe hadn't seen her.

As the night began unfolding, music started playing and couples came out on the dance floor. Suddenly, Y/N found herself swarmed with suitors, asking her to dance one after the other. Bound to her duty, she obliged the guests, but every time one of them spun her around, her eyes would seek out Kakashi. And without a doubt, every time her gaze fell upon his, he'd turn away.

A group dance was organised, where couples would join in and switch partners at different intervals. An older gentleman, who traded with ships (or so she was told) asked her to dance. She smiled sweetly and offered him her hand, despite feeling exhausted by this point. At least she'd stumbled upon a good dancer, as he expertly led and twirled her around.

Upon switching partners, she was pulled in by a familiar embrace. Kakashi held her tight, as he maneuvered them both swiftly along the dancefloor.

"He dances." She said, feigning surprise.

"Well, when the Hokage's wife drags you out, it's hard to refuse." Kakashi let out a slight chuckle.

She scoffed at that, the cheerful glint in her eyes betraying her true feelings. It was a relief to see him smile again.

"You've been avoiding me tonight." She said matter-of-factly.

Kakashi cleared his throat.

"I'm surprised you noticed with all the men throwing themselves at you." His voice sarcastic, yet strained.

"Does it bother you?" Her eyes widened in curiosity. She couldn't help but push on.

"Of course it bothers me." His sincerity surprised her. Usually with him, it was all cloak and dagger, so why the sudden reveal? She felt the familiar feelings of confusion and hurt rising up in her.

"You must know by now that none of that matters to me." She whispered, loosing the grip on her emotions somewhat.

"And why not?" His gaze intensely focused on her expression, trying to read it.

"Kakashi..." She hesitated.

"I want to hear you say it." He pressed further leaning into her ear, his voice just above a whisper.

Sensing the exhaustion take over, she felt like she was going to crack. It was too much, being so close to him, wondering if he was toying with her again.

"I... I can't do this!" Y/N pulled away from him, running towards the entrance. A few heads turned to look at Kakashi, eyes filled with curiosity. Kurenai ran over to him.

"What happened?"

"Nothing."

"I better go and check on her." The female jōnin looked concerned.

"No, don't. I'll go after her." He interjected, leaving the dance floor.

Once outside, he spotted her walking away in rushed steps.

"Y/N, wait!" He called after her, running to shorten the distance between them.

She stopped and turned towards him. When he reached her, he could see tears gleaming in the corner of her eyes.

"Wait for what, Kakashi? I can't keeping doing this with you. This back and forth, this game..." She trailed off, her voice shaky.

Kakashi reached his hand and gently wiped her wet cheek.

"Y/N, I've been a fool." Was the only thing he managed to say.

"What on earth do you mean?" She was still angry with him, an anger born out of hurt.

"Denying what my heart has been aching for, this whole time." His palm rested on her cheek, the way hers once had, when he'd shown her the sharingan.

The sorrow in her eyes turned to surprise, then to hope. She leaned into his hand, taking a step closer to him.

"And what is it that you've been aching for?" She asked softly.

Kakashi sighed.

"You know."

"I want to hear you say it." She echoed his words from earlier.

He watched her for a moment, taking in her beautiful, tear-stained face.

"You."

At those words, she closed the remaining distance between them, pulling him into a passionate kiss. Weaving her arms around his neck, his own wrapping around her waist, their bodies intertwined as their lips devoured each other. When they finally pulled back to take a deep breath, they were both smiling widely.

"Take me home, Kakashi." She whispered.

He took her hand in his and led her back, both hearts soaring at the feeling of surrender.

-------------------------------------------------------

@duckingmetal @junksmah @jinnyart06 thank you for your support guys <3

#kakashi x reader #kakashi x reader fluff #kakashi x reader slowburn #kakashi hatake x reader #kakashi fanfiction #naruto fanfiction #kakashi #kakashi hatake #maito gai

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pit-and-the-pen · 9 months ago

Text

I’ll Crawl Home to Her- Prologue

A/N: Prologue for a reader x Azriel fic I've started writing. The events from under the mountain are told from the readers' perspective. There is some dialogue from the actual book so all of that, and the characters of course, belong to Sarah J. Maas.

Quick Flip to Azriel's POV somewhere in the middle because I wanted to.

Warnings: Cannon Typical Violence.

Word Count: ~4k

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist for this series! I'm already working on the next part and have the rest of the series planned out!

Forty nine years. Forty nine years away from my court, from my friends. The only thing that has let me keep a semblance of my sanity was that I was here with my brother. Rhys. As selfish as it was, knowing he was here helped me from going out of my gods damned mind.

I laid in the room I had been assigned, bandages wrapped around my chest covering the latest punishment from Amarantha for my backtalk. She had made some vile comment about Rhys and when apparently threatening to rip her tongue out and nail it to the wall had not been the right thing to say to her. Wincing as I rolled over onto my side, I would do it over again just to know that I got under her skin. There were very few ways to have any semblance of fun here and antagonizing that bitch, much to Rhys horror, was worth every cut and bruise I had received.

A knock on my door interrupted my thoughts. All I could do was weakly call out for them to come in, anyone that bothered to knock was most likely safe. I pushed myself up into a sitting position and was met with Rhys’ violet eyes staring at me.

“I thought we talked about this.” He all but growled at me. I shrugged, biting down the pain that flashed through me.

“You should see the other guy.” Trying and failing at keeping the shake out of my voice. That earned me his signature glare.

“Try that again when you can sit up on your own.” He sighed, walking over to the edge of my bed. He put his head in his hands. “You can’t keep doing this. She’s going to kill you one day over some stupid comment.” I had never heard him this scared before. Guilt sunk like a stone in my heart.

“I’ll try to be better. It’s just so hard when I hear her talk about you like that,” I sighed heavily, regretting it at the ache in my lungs. “She can do whatever she wants to me. But you. At least I can pretend I can protect you from her.” We both know that was the furthest from the truth. If she didn’t have the tendency to call for Rhys longer when I spoke back, I would fight back more. But I refuse to allow my brother to suffer more because I can’t control my temper.

We both just sat in silence. I could feel my back desperately fighting to heal itself. It would still be a few days until it healed fully with the bits of my powers Amarantha had stolen. But anything felt better at this point and it was enough for me to finally let my shoulders sag.

Rhys stayed until I started to doze off. The adrenaline had finally worn off and I felt the tiredness in my bones. He pressed a small kiss to the top of my head as I curled up in the middle of the bed. I let my eyes flutter closed and drifted off to dreams of anywhere but where I was.

✦✦✦

A gasp left my lips as the attor dumped the poor girl onto the floor before the dais. Still wearing a thin nightgown she must have fallen asleep in.

“Bring him in.” Amarantha called wicked delight practically dancing around in the throne room. I felt the faint pressure of Rhys’ hand against my arm as they dragged Tamlin into the room kicking and screaming. As soon as I felt it the touch was gone.

When he was situated beside the red head, she asked, “Is this her?” Tamlin froze as he surveyed the shaking figure in front of him. His shouts died in his throat and he didn’t respond to her question. At the lack of an answer she repeated the question to my brother.

“Yes.”

That was all it took for Amarantha to lash out her powers. My ears rang as the girl in front of us started to scream. Rhys’ whole body went tense besides me. The all too familiar feeling of his power pulsed around us and I didn’t even what to think about the torture she was being put through. Rhys’ powers in his own hands could be deadly but in hers they became something far worse.

I tried to hold back the bile that raised in my throat. Tamlin didn’t so much as flinch, keeping that firm mask but there was something. Just a small tick in his right eye that hit me like a ton of bricks. Whoever this female was, this wasn’t the girl Rhys had seen in the spring court. Anger surged through me. Of course, a random human life wouldn’t be enough to get a reaction out of the High Lord. I wasn’t entirely sure how he would have reacted if it even was her. Maybe I was expecting just a glint of those claws, itching to sink them into the soft flesh of Amarantha, but he stood fae still. The rise and fall of his chest was the only indication he was anything more than a statue.

The hours dragged on. If this went on any longer I knew I was going to puke, I already knew the moment I moved again it would happen. Slowly, the screams started to ebb and I knew Amarantha was reaching the end of whatever fun she was pulling from this. With the lack of reaction from Tamlin, I knew she was growing bored. I released a breath I didn’t even realize I was holding the moment the girl, Clare, had finally stopped screaming. My head was pounding at the tension in my shoulders. And I could feel the slow healing wounds in my back roaring in pain.

“You’re all dismissed.” Amarantha called plainly. I didn’t need to be told twice. It took all my restraint to not run from the throne room. I felt Rhys walk behind me, stopping ahead of me as I paused behind a pillar. He didn’t look at me as I rose, just handing me a handkerchief as I went to wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. I muttered my small thanks as I took it from him.

“Are you…”

“Don’t even finish that sentence.” I groaned at him. I closed my eyes but quickly opened them when I realized that I could still see her sitting there on that dais, still smelling the coppery tang of her blood in the room. My stomach curled again but I swallowed the feeling down.

“It’s over. Our one chance is gone.” Rhys said plainly. My eyes darted around at his bold words. It’s one thing to talk about this in private, in our minds where no one else could hear us. But in the halls, with everyone vying for the chance to earn Amarnatha’s favor. It was as good as a declaration of treason. He said nothing else as he started walking again and I was never so thankful to not hear my brother's voice

✦✦✦

I had never felt horror like this in all my years under the mountain. My eyes grew to the size of saucers as I heard her speak those daming words, “I’ve come to claim Tamlin, High Lord of the Spring Court.”

My head snapped to Rhys, the horror frozen on his own face told me everything I needed to know. Panic surged through me. Selfishly not for the human in front of me but for my brother. She would not allow the action of lying to him to go unpunished. I reached out for his mind but he pushed me out so violently I almost gasped.

My mind was racing so much that I missed most of the exchange that was happening in front of me. I caught bits and pieces but I couldn’t string together a coherent thought let alone try to follow along with Amarantha’s scheming.

My heart was beating out of its chest as I caught up with the turn this conversation had taken. A riddle. You solve the riddle, and his curse will be broken. Instantaneously. I won’t even need to lift my finger and he’ll be free.

I flinched when I heard her voice ring loud and clear in the room. “Give her a greeting worthy of my hall.” My hand went to hold back Rhys as we both heard the sickening crunch of bones echo in the silent room.

✦✦✦

If I could have kissed Feyre on the mouth, I would have. As it was, I had to hold back the laughs that threatened to rack through my body as Amarantha stood stock- still in front of her. The bone Feyre had thrown at her feet sticking straight out of the ground. Pride racked through my chest because I knew if I was in her shoes I would have done the same thing. Except I wouldn’t have missed. Maybe if we managed to survive all of this, I would offer her training. I shook my head at the ridiculous thought. I knew that if she survived this, I would never see her again. I spoke into my brother's mind but he seemed far away when I risked a glance over to him. In perfect form, Feyre held Amarantha’s stare before she turned on her heel and walked out of the throne room. For the first time in a long time, I felt a kernel of hope.

✦✦✦

Rhys had officially lost his damn mind. He must have. That was the only explanation for the sight currently in front of me. Feyre dressed in black glossimer, a dress that would have made me blush to wear. But it wasn’t the dress that held my attention, it was the swirling blue-black mark that now rested on her hand. A bargain. What had Rhys promised her in exchange for the position she was in currently. I started to walk over to my brother, having half a mind to pull him from the room by his ear and cursing him out for bringing her into this viper den before I saw her freeze in front of Tamlin. Much to credit, she didn’t let her chin dip once during Rhys’ and Amarantha’s exchange. I truly questioned both of their sanity before I heard Amarantha dismissing the two. I didn’t want to think how much this little stunt would cost Rhys in the long run. The pair slinked to the back of the room, everyone's eyes trailing over them. Watching to see what Rhys was up to. He handed her a goblet and after a few moments of what looked like a very heated discussion, Feyre downed the cup of faerie wine.

Shit really hit the fan after her third glass. I watched the pink flood her cheeks and her eyes glass over. Rhys pulled her onto the dance floor and I decided I had enough. I walked out of the room. Refusing to watch her body move against my brothers. Realistically, I knew what state she had been in when she walked out of that last challenge. I knew what my brother had offered in return for her actions right now. And I knew from the way that the smirk didn’t reach his eyes that he was not enjoying himself at this moment. For whatever reason, he was protecting her from the consequences of healing her.

Eventually, I heard the music from the night fading away and I knew that the party must be over. It would be another few hours before Rhys would slink into my room to lick his wounds. When he did show up, the berating words I had planned died in my throat. It could wait for later I decided as he sat down in the center of my bed. I never spoke first. I let him decompress as he needed to. Sometimes we would never say a single word and I was perfectly content to just let him sit in the room with me. I had long given up on reading books here. But he was sitting in my room, the sound of the crackling fire filling the quiet space. If I closed my eyes hard enough, I could pretend we were both back in Velaris. The rest of our family loudly argued over some trivial joke. My mind wandered to what they were doing at this moment.

✦✦✦ Azriel POV

Azriel still doesn’t know how he has lasted this long. Mor and Cassian sit with him, the silence that has lingered around the townhouse for the last 48 years sits even heavier today. Heavier because Mor had said Rhys’ name, had said your name. And he felt the hole in his chest stretch just a little further, ripping itself open again. He had long stopped trying to listen for the all too familiar voice in his head, a power you and your brother both shared. But he couldn’t help it as the pair next to him were talking once again about a plan to get the two of you back home.

If he let himself think about it too much it was going to tear him apart. The terrified part of him that would spiral if he thought about how he might never get to hear your voice again. How he would never get to see Rhys smile. He longed for those stupid fights they would get into more than anything in the world right now.

Azriel will never forgive himself for telling her where her brother was heading that day. What use was the spymaster when he couldn’t see that stoney determination on her face as she turned and walked away from the too?. He should have known from that one look what she was planning to do but he and Cas had both been called away later that day on separate missions. He didn’t even get to say goodbye to either of them. What hurt the most was the simple message he received later that day from Rhys. Don’t come after us, stay in Velaris. The reminder that if all of the inner circle left Velaris’ centuries-old protections would be lost was the only thing that kept any of them put. It didn’t stop the hope that there was a way out of this but as the years dragged on it was hard to think of new ways.

As Azriel started to tune the now fighting pair around him out, he felt his shadows swirling around him. Letting the turmoil that was his mind show to his family. He nearly jumped out of his skin when Cassian placed a firm hand on his shoulder but knew better than to try to say any words of comfort, they had all been long spoken and neither of them believed them anymore.

✦✦✦

Days passed, and every night Rhys would parade Feyre around the throne room for everyone to gawk at. And every night I would tuck away in the corner until I could sneak out early.

The second challenge came and went. Feyre getting one step closer to breaking this curse. I kept the kernel of hope tight to my chest, refusing to truly accept it until it happened. Maybe not even then. I found myself dreaming more and more about life in Velaris once we got out from under the mountain. Hope wasn’t supposed to survive down here but in spite of myself, I trusted this human girl to be the thing to save all of us. It was an unfair burden to place on her shoulders.

The night of the final task snuck up on all of us. Everyone was called to the throne room as usual but something was different. This was it. Feyre would either survive and it would all be over, or she would fail and it would be over anyways. Rhys and I had spent the night in silence, the only sound was me sobbing. I didn’t know whether it was out of fear or relief.

Feyre was marched out, flanked on either side by attors. As if she would try to run now.

“Two trials lie behind you,” Amarantha let her voice ring around the room. The room was so silent you could hear a pin drop. “And only one more awaits. I wonder if it will be worse to fail now- when you were so close.” I tried to steady my ragged breaths. I caught eyes with Rhys and saw my own horror reflected in those violet eyes.

“I love you. No matter what she says about it, no matter if it’s only with my insignificant human heart. Even when they burn my body. I’ll love you.” And from her words, I knew she meant it. Somehow this brave, selfless girl managed to fall in love with Tamlin. The cruel words I once screamed at him flickered into my mind. The person who ever truly loves you will be the most miserable person to ever exist. I meant it but looking at Feyre, I know that could never extend to her. Not after all of this, not if she managed to pull this off.

Tamlin didn’t respond to her declaration of love and I realized how angry I was for this girl. He couldn’t break that mask enough to say it back to her. She was looking death square in the face for him and he didn’t have the decency to say a word back.

Movement in the corner of the room caught my eye and my eyes went wide as three faeries with bags covering their heads were marched in. My stomach lurched when I saw that ash dagger brought in behind them. She was going to have to kill them. A life for a life. When I looked back at Feyre, she looked truly horrified. Horrified at Amarantha’s reminder that they were all innocent.

Slow as a fae, Feyre took a step on shaking legs in front of the first figure. I saw the tremor in her hand as she reached for the dagger. Her skin turned a ghostly white as the hood was ripped off of the male in front of her. I closed my eyes, turning my head away. I couldn’t watch, couldn’t listen to the pleas of the male in front of Feyre nor the members of his court as they now recognized him. I heard a loud sob from Feyre and the sickening crunch of something cracking through bone and I knew she had done it. Tears ran down my face. I had killed people before but doing it in this setting, for this reason. I could only imagine how much this would cost her.

I couldn’t turn to look for the second death. I only muttered along with the desperate prayer I heard her whisper. Let me fear no evil. Let me feel no pain. Let me enter eternity. The most sacred prayer to our people. I fought the urge to reach out with what little of my power was left in my body to turn her pain off. To take her mind away from the death that was looming right in front of her but I couldn’t reach out. It was like my power was stuck in my body. Coward. It screamed at me when I reached for it again. When I heard the splatter of blood, I knew it was too late. One more.

The words that were spoken by Feyre were enough for me to snap my eyes open. “Not…Not fair.” She choked out. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Rhys blanche. I felt like my own air had been ripped from my lungs as she just stared at Tamlin. She paused over the ash dagger. Freezing. I could see the gears turning in her head as she tried to find any way out of this. The whole room seemed to be holding their breath as she stood silent and still.

I heard Tamlin suck in a breath as Feyre went to reach for that last dagger. Her whispering “I love you” was enough to bring more tears to my eyes and I couldn’t find it in myself to look away as she plunged the ash weapon into the center of his chest.

Tamlin cried out in pain and I heard the clatter of metal against the floor of the room. It was as if an earthquake cracked through the room. When I looked at the dagger, I saw the bent tip. A heart of stone. The words pulled themselves from some deep part of my mind. The final part of the curse that Amarantha wouldn’t have known about. Something even I had forgotten about until it was staring me in the face. Feyre must have figured it out.

“She won. Free them” I couldn’t stop the words as they tumbled out of my mouth. And my heart threatened to completely stop as she turned to face me.

“I’ll free them whenever I see fit.”

Feyre seemed frozen to her spot when Amarantha turned back to her. You. I’m going to kill you. I didn’t stop the scream as I heard her bones crack. Time seemed to freeze around us as I was stuck, unable to look away and unable to move. I vaguely heard Rhys scream Feyre’s name over and over. Couldn’t process his movements as he went to collect the ash dagger and lunged at Amarantha himself. He went flying against the wall was what broke me from whatever had paralyzed me. I was over by his side before I even knew I was moving. I tensed my whole body, ready to protect Rhys with my life as she screeched at him, at Feyre.

Feyre was dying. I could sense it in the air. Could feel her fading away. The world seemed to completely freeze as she whispered. Love. The answer to your riddle is love. Her final words before the sickening sound of her spine snapping filled the room.

All hel broke loose in the throne room. The masks of spring court citizens fell to the ground and I felt my long- missing power flow back into my body. I stared down at my hands in disbelief. I could barely hear the cries of Amarantha as she pleaded for her life. I didn’t spare her another glance. She would be someone else's problem. I rushed over to the girls' side. Ignoring Lucien and the other High Lords that started to surround her. Each opened their palm to drop a small glittering substance onto Feyre. One by one, the high lords all repeated the action. Rhys placed a hand on my shoulder as he did the same. Tamlin was last. And we all held perfectly still as we stared down at the broken girl in front of us. When I looked up at Rhys the pain in his face was enough to make me start crying again.

Feyre gasped as she sat up, blinking heavily. She looked down at her arms and I saw the realization crash over her face. High Fae. The points of her ears and slight shimmer of her skin would make it impossible to deny. That was all I needed to see. I pulled my brother into my arms and rushed us out of the room. I hugged my brother for the first time in as long as I could remember. I crushed him as tight as my arms would allow me. I sobbed as I realized what this meant for us. I reached out my powers. They practically purred as I was finally able to use them again. I reached into the minds of my family for the first time in almost fifty years.

We’re coming home.

#azriel acotar #acotar #acomaf #acosf #acowar #rhysand #feyre archeron #cassian #azriel fluff #azriel spymaster #azriel #azriel angst #acotar fanfiction #acotar series #acotar x reader #sarah j maas

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