#this month in particular needs a good blessing

[happyheidi]

｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡ ﾟ. December will bring blessings.

ﾟ･｡･ﾟ

[kujiba]

【MAY THE LAND CONCEAL YOU DEAR GRACE】

୨୧ — ꒰ gn!reader | they/them prounouns | Sagau | cultish behavior

A/n: Heya! This is now a pov of what is happening to other nations across teyvat before and after the arrival of the reader! + Aether and paimon

Nations present: Mondstadt, Liyue, Inazuma

One / two / three / four / five

MONDSTAT, is where the creator had first landed and spreaded their blessings through the people's hearts and minds, of course. That did not exclude the archon of freedom himself, Barbatos.

Barbatos used to accompany (Name) through their vast journeys, being able to witness how life is formed within his own eyes, (Name) only using the palms of their hands that basked the people with warmth and comfort sending peace throughout the nations. He'd idolize and fanboyed over them for days and days without ever getting tired nor bored of talking, creating poets or songs just to spread their fame and story farther into the world of Teyvat.

Whenever (Name) requested someone to sing a melody for them, Barbatos was always the first to come knocking at their door with his iconic and trusty lyre he always held dear to him.

But now, their god had left and never came back for thousands of years. Barbatos, now taking the name of Venti would sit on a thick branch hanging off a tree and play a soft melody like he used to do countless days ago. He wanted to feel that comforting aura and vibe again while the tip of his fingers strummed the strings of his lyre, he wanted his god to be by his side forever till the sun would stop blazing, but now it likely didn't seem to happen anytime soon.

...

A blonde traveler and fairy came by today.

The Traveler helped resolve the issue with Dvalin and defeated some abyss mages behind the act, but alas. Good things would always come to an end since they left to go to the neighborhood nation, Liyue, ruled by the god of contracts, Morax.

Things come and things go, that was what Venti learned a long time ago from a dear companion of his. Yet, only after a few months of the Travelers departure, something new and unexpected came to his land.

A breathtaking person with the face of divinity along with an strong yet calming aura that seemed to heal any stressa a person had built up for years in a matter of seconds. That was just what Venti needed at the time since he was reminiscing of the past making him feel a bit down.

The winds were different today and Venti knew that, he felt an immense mount of nostalgia just by being at the presence of the stranger that was just a good distance away from him.

It wasn't just him that noticed it but some hilichurls, slimes, and other types of monsters curiosly went towards their direction but not too close that the person would be alarmed by the amount of monsters closing in on them.

But unfortunately his eyes didn't quite catch where the particular person went after that, much to his disappointment.

Just then, a papered letter fluttered down onto his thigh safely. Confusion crammed Venti's head while he tried to make sense of the letter that neatly laid on his thigh

"How weird"

He adjusted his sitting position better to a more comfortable and laid back one and then began carefully flipping open the letter to read it's contents on the paper.

Venti's eyes trailed along the words written on it and a sly smirk appeared on his face, An invitation to inazuma? Why not.

Liyue, had just finished a fight between osial and the people with the help of the adeptus. Of course, the main star being the infamous blonde traveler himself that took a big part in defeating the sea god.

"After all that fighting, Paimon wants to go and eat a whole buffet!" Paimon and Aether walked through the lively streets of Liyue with a relaxed attitude and vibe. Paimon chimed in "After this we'll have to go through Inazuma! But it would be tricky sinc- Traveler?" Paimon looked at Aether in worry, he had always been silent but today he seemed more down than usual.

"Is something wrong? Paimon will try and help!" Paimon reassured Aether to try and make the blonde feel better even for a slight moment.

Aether shaked his head and offered and forced small smile "It's nothing Paimon.. It's just, I still hadn't found any leads on my sister.." Aether grumbled to himself with bitterness occupied inside his mouth, everywhere they went somebody would be requesting help. It wasn't bad to help but for him to help people with such simple tasks who could do it on their own perfectly fine was.... Tiring.

Aether looked over to Paimon who smiled at him brightly, floating around him for a moment "Don't worry! Paimons sure there would be loads of leads to your sister! Teyvat is a pretty big world after all" Paimon placed both of her small hands behind her back and gave him a closed eyed smile. Soothing Aether a bit in the inside.

As Aether thought over his memories over the past months he stopped at a particular one. The conversation that he had with Amber when they were still at mondstadt. (referring to ch.1).

In the past, he would frequently feel someone taking over his body and controlling it, at first he was genuinely scared and terrified but after a while, he got used to it and didn't react when he randomly would wake up in a random area. It didn't cause him any harm since every time he did got his consciousness back all the monsters would be defeated and all would be left was loot for him to collect.

So why did he kinda felt something was missing after all this time? Was it because he didn't get possessed anymore? He must've gone insane then if he missed getting possessed.

But he had to admit.. It felt kinda nice, like someone was watching over him from afar and being his guardian...

Sure it would abruptly just take over his body in such random times that it would also caught him off guard, but sometimes he would wake up sitting down on a rock while there was a beautiful mix of copper and ruby at the sky before him.

Aether had mix feelings about this stuff, but he could confirm one thing inside his head; 'Whatever is out there is helping me out, Thanks.'

"Traveler are you coming or what!" Paimon shouted from a distance making Aether snap out of his monologuing "Be right there."

...

A youthful man with long silky brunette hair tied into a long low ponytail, he wore a brown and amber waistcoat that evened out his figure perfectly paired with slim black trouser, black dress boots and dark gloves. On his hand was a cup of green tea perfectly brewed to the right temperature where you could see little steams floating above the cup of tea.

The previous god of contracts who now took on the name Zhongli to mask his identity and blend along with the mortals residing at the Liyue Harbor. He brought his cup closer to his lips where he then blew off the steam and modestly took a sip, savoring the flavorful tea.

Infront of him was the relatively popular, Iron Tounge Tian who told and portrayed the numerous adventures and stories of the stone god to a crowd of people sitting down on a table.

Zhongli took one sip of his tea... And then another?

His amber eyes looked at the clear sky above, today wasn't that cloudy anymore after the fight with osial, aside from that there was something different and he felt it spread throughout every vein and bone inside his Body.

...

Morax was the complete opposite of himself in the present. In the past him and Barbatos would frequently fight over (Name), stating the other was spending way too much time with them. Their quarrel would mostly end with (Name) karate chopping the back of their necks so hard that they were in a coma for 143 days, both nations suprisingly not turning into a frenzy since (Name) multi tasked like a Chad and kept the people in line over the days Morax and Barbatos was unconscious.

In those days of course (Name) was not alone in keeping the people safe. Xiao, one of Morax's most beloved adeptus would be by (Name)'s side at all times, getting frequently flustered whenever they teased or praised Xiao since he would frequently save (Name) from any dangerous activities.

Morax had tried persuading (Name) into signing a contract of 'companionship' with him for eternity, But (Name) called out on his bullshit and told him what he wrote on the paper was like a marriage contract instead. This led Morax to experience the seven stages of grief, much to his disdain.

To (Name), Morax was an important companion to them, often helping and assisting them in their needs and teaching them ways they didn't knew existed inside the laws of Teyvat. But to Morax, what he felt was deeper and more complexed than what (Name) never thought to think of. Truly, he was a massive simp for (Name) only in the past (still is tbh).

But you should never get too attached to things that won't last forever. Morax's world crumbled before him when he had been informed that (Name) went missing and was never found, yet he refused to believe that. So for the past thousands of years he patiently waited at Liyue Harbor for their arrival, already planning on telling them a dozen of stories when they return back to his embrace.

And even now, as a mortal named Zhongli, he patiently waited at his usual spot where they would chatter for days non-stop, as if the world around them passed by so quickly that they couldn't grasp it in time.

Ah, his tea is running low.

Just as he was about to pour his cup to its fullest a snow white letter gently flew towards his tables direction. Zhongli acted quickly and catched the piece of paper in time out of instinct in his previous days.

Golden amber eyes inspected the words neatly written by pitch dark ink, his brows perking upwards by what was told.

"Huh, a request to meet at Inazuma?"

Zhongli muttered in a low voice, skeptical at first but then had a light bulb appear at the top of his head "Then... You must be there too right?, my dear companion."

Inazuma was a nation which locked away their people's freedom, ruled by the Raiden Shogun and their 'grace'. The people had believed that their 'grace' was the true one, not like the others who had been an Imposter all along. The two rulers had come to an agreement to proceed with the Vision Hunt Decree, where in people who had attained a vision would be immediately stripped away from its blessing.

And today was a special one. Their 'grace' had invited people around the world to join in a ceremonial festival, where people would savor the taste of their nation's meal's and drink to their hearts content, this joyfull festival was all thanks to their benevolent 'grace'.

This bold act was just to spread word throughout the world to further increase their 'grace' fame. Of course, their 'grace' never mentioned it to anyone but to themselves.

And like mice falling into a trap, less than a day Inazuma had been packed with various different individual's as they thought this was just a simple festival hosted out of the sweetness of their 'graces' heart.

And to their luck, a certain blonde traveler with his fairy companion had just arrived on boat. Their 'grace' had made sure to be on the Traveler's good side since they posed as a natural, distinguished tool for them to use.

Everything was going as planned for them.

...

So why did you have to appear infront of their 'grace'. you, who is the only true creator and God of this world stood before them.

Their grace...

No.

The Imposter looked at you dead in the eyes, as if saying 'why are you here?'. This wasn't supposed to happen, but you left them no choice, the Imposter had prepared for this kind of situation anyway.

A god can't exist if they're not breathing anyway.

"Don't look at me like that. I'm doing you a favor."

A woman wore a lilac colored kimono, her face having purple eyes and gradient light blue pupils, her braided hair reaching the same level as her calf which had a lovely shade of dark violet that becomes lighter at the ends. That woman's name is Beelzelbub.

Beelzelbub sat floating in her domain the Plane of Euthymia, created by her own consciousness. Her vessel the Raiden Shogun must be managing perfectly at Inazuma right?

...

Beelzelbub also known as Ei, couldn't shake off the feeling that something was wrong for a while now. She felt that something similar to a disaster was approaching on her doorstep, and she disliked everything about it.

Her plum eyes gazed at the voided sky above her, memories flooded into her mind one by one, each having a special place buried deep inside of her heart that she had hidden for a while now.

"I wonder if I continue to search through eternity, will I ever meet you again?" her words came out as a soft whisper, a message towards her grace that she deeply cared and valued for. Ei's mind was driven to many questions but all of them meeting a unfortunate dead end.

Ei was sorta like (Name)'s bodyguard hundreds of years ago, her along with Makoto would frequently visit their abode to tell tale's about youkai, the gods residing in inazuma and how Ei effortlessly massacred them all with her signature move, the Musou No Hitotachi.

But their grace didn't push her away or seemed even the slightest bit uncomfortable, yet instead they would encouraged her to share more of her bloodied stories, and that's what she loved about them. If purity was a person, then they must be standing before her right now.

Still, Ei wasn't exactly known as the 'sharing' type. She and Morax would frequently be on the verge of creating a catastrophe in their nation's whenever it came to who would get their grace's favoritism more.

But their target immediately took a huge turn when their eyes landed at Barbatos who was by their grace's side, yet he seemed to get a little way too close to their personal liking.

Their grace being a polite being didn't seem to mind Barbatos clinging onto them 24/7, you know who did mind the anemo archon's actions?

A pissed off geo dragon and a woman preparing to slice him in half using her blade.

Rumors had been reported that Barbatos body was buried but only left his head uncovered near Windrise as punishment for his actions towards their grace. A day after this took place their grace had personally came to save Barbatos and scolded the two archon's which left their expressions full of shame..

not because they were scolded but because they should've just thrown the anemo god into the abyss.

Ei softly smiled at the nostalgia hitting her hard, reminiscing the days were war had never took over and left countless of innocent lives taken. The uneasy feeling flowing through her body never leaving her mind, what could be the reason why she felt like something was wrong outside?

...

A certain someone had entered her territory, this feeling caught her off guard and slightly made her lose balance, it wasn't worry nor unease but a feeling she always felt when their presence was right next to hers.

"You'd arrived so soon? I would've waited more centuries for you."

Her feet touched the ground. It wasn't a doubt that they had finally came, she had secluded herself all this time to meditate and keep her soul away from erosion. But she couldn't help but wonder how would they look like now? It didn't matter either way.

Since she would love you no matter what form their grace took over.

...

【Follow my command】

Screams of terror engulfed the whole area with bystanders backing away from the body which oozed out a metallic crimson liquid, yet red wasnt the only liquid that seeped through their body.

A golden fluid mixed through with the crimson one, producing a beautiful yet horrid scene.

【You are one step away from successfully reincarnating.】

A/n: hehe... Orv.. Hehe

[gremlingottoosilly]

That Unwanted Animal [COD Fantasy AU] CursedKnight!Ghost x fem!Reader

Ghost was cursed ever since his king helped him get back to life from his grave. A stench of death, strong and inescapable, renders him unable to find a woman who will be willing to bed him. What will happen when he finally finds a perfect mate? CW and Tags: Dub-con, power imbalance, Medieval Fantasy AU, knight!Ghost, servant!Reader, sex work, brothels, dub-con kissing and touching, obsessive Ghost, dark Ghost, basically Ghost finds a girl and forces her to be his, Ghost is a half-dead resurrected knight, soft reader, submissive Reader.

AO3 Word Count: 2209

“I won’t go to him, he smells!”

“Drop the act, princess, not even half of our guests reek of anything more than their drinks and foul meat.” 

“You know how he smells, Katherine. You know what he is.” “What he is, is a client. Rich one. Do you wish to moan under the belly of another failing merchant? Or a peasant’s dick is more to your liking?” “I bring this place more than half of its earnings! I won’t bed a man who has barely got out of his grave and should be put back!” Ghost sighs, his head pressed against the wooden wall. For a brothel, this place has remarkably thin walls. For a brothel, girls out here have remarkably potent noses – and acquired tastes for anything that doesn’t taste like a man who was brought back to life with dead souls still clinging onto every inch of his very being. 

For a man of his regals – the blessed knight, the cursed knight, the kiss-your-enemies-goodnight, the spill-your-blood-he might, he has a particular choice in the brothel he tried to entertain himself with. Not like any willing woman would bed him without a sum of gold enough to feed a family for months – and not like he stood low enough to force himself on poor servants of his castle, bringing his dignity and family name down with each handmaiden he tried to grope while on meeting with the king. 

“Do you think he is really dead?” “Dead man wouldn’t need a cunt to drown himself in. He had to have something working.” “Maybe he likes to watch? Or to hurt.” “Maybe, we can’t afford to turn him down, princess. Drop your act before he is willing to burn us down for refusing him.” “Well, I heard he went through every brothel in town. Not a single soul bedded him!” “I heard he doesn’t even like girls. Has his royal knight by his side all day.” “He came alone.” “He will be coming alone for the rest of his life with a smell like this!” “Dark magic. King should have known to not trust the Empire and their lurkings.” “Having a blessed knight is good, no? We’re not at war.” “Cursed knight is good in your army, not your bed. But if you are so willing…”

He hears women – from the madam of this fine place, a woman of fine manners, exquisite figure, and the way of looking at him that almost convinces that she doesn’t want to press her fingers against her nose, blocking the smell of death that follows him ever since he became…that. He hears girls of not-so-fine manners, with fine bodies and perfect pretty faces, gentle hands that don’t know about the trials of war. He remembers the way they looked at him – the way they always looked at him. 

Scary, horrendous, dangerous. A skull mask and dark tendrils of smoke follow his body, the Grim Reaper himself embedded in his dark armor. No matter how many perfumes he uses, no matter how many washes per day he forces himself onto, nothing can hide the stench of death. He thought he’d be fine with it as long as his battle brothers were with him – as long as he was with them. 

Then he got lonely. 

Finding a lay in the brothel would be a scandal for a man of his status – but Simon Riley is no man. Not anymore, at least. 

“I bet he wears a mask because he is hideous.” “Maybe he is just wounded?” “What kind of wound would make him hide his face while not being hideous?” “Maybe, he just doesn’t want to show his face here.” “No use. By the dawn, all women in the capital will know about great lord Riley, refuced at every brothel.” “What if he kills us?” “What if he burns us?” “What if he…” “Let the servant bring him tea. Make her useful.” Before he could react – as if eavesdropping on a bunch of whores was something of a pleasant chore he was dealing with – a door to his room had opened. Girl, in much simpler clothes than the ones that courtesans were wearing. With a tea tray in her shaky hands, grabbing the poor thing like there was no tomorrow. Huh. Perhaps, with a mug like his as her client, there is no tomorrow for a poor girl. 

Ghost sits on the bed, large, muscular legs spread, his dick swaying with attention the longer he is looking at your face. He can’t be picky, not in his state as a not-dead not-man, but he has to admit that you’re pretty. Without all the mannerisms of a prostitute, you look like a poor deer stuck in the predator’s den. Your hands are shaking – but he looks at your face, having no shame in drinking up your expression like a vampire – and he didn’t once saw you wince at the smell. Hm. Must be potent tea you’re serving. 

— I didn’t ask for the tea. 

Rude, as always – he didn’t come here to be ridiculed by poor attempts at pleasing him without a girl under him, getting her pretty legs open for his cock. He didn’t intend to come here and listen to all of the workers laughing at him like he was a monster – yet, he can’t leave now, his wounded ego grows into something ugly. 

— Most of our clients prefer to drink this before the…act. It makes them more potent, as they say. 

His cock didn’t have any warm body to dump his semen in years. He doesn’t need tea to make him hard – he sees the glimpse of your skin under those simple robes of yours, and he can already feel it stir, standing up for attention. 

— You don’t sound too certain. Your client must not drink it then. 

— I…I am not a prostitute, sir. Merely a servant. 

He knows already – your makeup is too plain, your manners are off, your clothes are simple grey wool with not a dash of color. If you were his – as a prostitute, a wife, a lover – he would bring you something much brighter and skimpier. You’d look good in silks, he thinks. 

Not like you’d allow him to bring you home – not willingly, at least. 

— So I figured, love. You’re pretty enough to be one, that’s clear. 

“You’re pretty enough to be a prostitute” is a compliment that only sounds good in the head of a man who hasn’t talked sweetly to a woman in ages. His whole life, perhaps, exchanging the embrace of a lady with tight hugs of the war. 

— You’re flattering me, sir. 

— Bloody hell, woman. Not a flattery if that’s the truth. 

— If you say so. 

You shift under his gaze like a rabbit in front of an apex predator. Ghost doesn’t want to force any woman to sleep with him – but he looks at the sway of your chest, at the softness of your hips, at the way you tug and scratch on the rough fabric of your skirt as you’re too nervous to look at him…

He must contain himself. 

— Why you work as a servant? 

— I…tried to be a prostitute, sir. Most clients here don’t like it when you’re not…

He slowly rocks his body closer to you, his head almost laying on your shoulder. He saw the way you looked at him as he leaned to you – you’re surprised, scared, but not disgusted. your nose didn’t twitch a single time, and he is sure that no tea would ever make you this blind to the stench of death lingering on your shoulder now. 

There must be something wrong with you – and he wants to save you like a rare treasure because of it. 

— Most clients here don’t like what, luv? 

— I…have damage, sir. 

So he figured. Just didn’t exactly know what you have. 

— What is it? 

— A…after a bad cold, my sense of smell…never returned. Not for the last three years. 

— You don’t smell anythin’? Must be bloody hard. 

— It is. But…I manage. As much as I can. 

He slowly drapes his hand over your shoulder – you wince at the touch. He thinks of the madam of your fine establishment. The woman didn’t seem the type to beat her girls, but you had such a shy, scared expression as he started to touch you, he can’t wait to burn this fucking place to the ground. Maybe spare a few of your friends if you’d ask him nicely. You won’t be working here again, ever – that much he can be sure of. 

— Doin’ a good job, love. 

— I hope so, sir. 

He drags his hand on your face, squeezing the soft skin of your cheek. You’re adorable – servants shouldn’t be so pretty, it makes him feel bad, it makes him sinful. He should try to hit on the girls who actually work here – not the poor soul that as sent here to bring him here, as a little lam sacrificed to a vicious god. 

— You don’t smell me, then? 

— I don’t smell anything, my lord. 

He chuckles, but your pained expression only makes him chuckle more. Poor thing, living in a place like this without a sense of smell – he can’t believe how you could survive without the smell of heavy incense and creams that all of the whores were using. He loves it when a pretty girl is making herself even prettier – makeup, all of those little elixirs they are putting on their faces, the flowery smells that make his rotting existence a bit easier. It never worked on him, on his disintegrating skin and stench that followed him everywhere – but then it dawned on him. 

You have such an adorable, shy smile and a small posture, playing with the edges of your clothes like a girl who is extremely embarrassed to be in a room with a man of his position. But women aren’t shy in his presence, not anymore – they are disgusted, horrified, they want to put their noses into little candy boxes and smell roses just to get rid of the smell. 

But you, adorable creature, aren’t disgusted. Hell, how he missed a pretty girl being so shy around him. 

Ghost kisses you before he can think of anything else. Before he could give you space to escape, to come to your senses and understand what kind of man he is. Broken, wounded, pushed to the cage, and locked with a key dangling from the side – god knows, Simon Riley isn’t a good man, never tried to be. Devil knows, he will drag you to the grave with him. 

Your lips are soft, untouched, you smell of cleaning supplies and sweet tea. Your hair smells like roses and dust, your hands are covered in little scabs – probably from the days spent cleaning and doing the hard work. He will make sure you will never have to work again, not with your hands, at least – he will kiss your callouses and nourish the skin into something delicate, fragile, to the smell of home he lost long ago. 

Your mouth tastes like heaven, and Ghost isn’t a man who deserves to push this angel further, isn’t a man who deserves to have a pretty girl moaning under him. He makes you cry, he terrifies you, he kisses you relentlessly and can feel the way your skin burns, tears streaming down your face. If he was a better man, he would oblige to your hands, pushing him away, your mouth is trying to cry for help. 

Simon Riley isn’t a good man, and he pushes you on your back, firms hands on your back, on your hips, touching, groping, feeling the skin of a somewhat willing woman. You’re scared, but you should know the kind of job girls here are doing – he didn’t pay all of this money for charity projects, after all. As much as he would pay even more gold just to take you away, to push your legs apart in a scenery much nicer than a room in a brothel. You deserve a real bed, a nice dress that he can rip away from you, 

All you get is his hands on your body, ripping your simple skirt apart because he can’t wait to get to the soft skin underneath. He looks at you, precious girl, as adorable as you are, and can’t resist kissing you, stealing breath from your skin. When he finally hears you moan, when his hand goes to grab the softness between your legs – moist, prepared, smelling of roses and arousal, of all things sweet and sinful – all of his sense of self-control shatters. 

He will take you on the floor of this room – over and over, claim you as his little maiden, his favorite girl, until he is sure his cursed, rotten seed has filled you to the brim. He will take you away, bringing as much money to your madam as he can manage, buying you all for himself – taking you as his prized possession for the new castle he was ordered to as a lord knight. 

Ghost will make you his, hells and heaven be damned. 

You cry, but he knows you’ll come around. And he can be very, very patient. 

[azen13]

To Gaze at Polaris

Description: After you manage to escape Jing Yuan's home, the General chases after you to Aurum Alley, intent on bringing you back.

CW: Yandere Themes, Non-Sexual Nudity, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Bathing Together

Pairing: Yandere!Jing Yuan x GN!Reader

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

It is a cold night on the Luofu when Jing Yuan strides through Aurum Alley.

By this time, all the shops, restaurants, and homes have gone dark. There is the faraway din of starskiff traffic, and the quiet buzz of cicadas in the moonlit neighborhood. As he walks through alleys lingering with the scent of day–the smell of tea leaves in particular lingers in his nose–there are no signs of you.

You are good at this, Jing Yuan thinks sadly. He wishes you weren’t.

“Y/N,” Jing Yuan calls quietly, though his voice carries. He does not need to be loud or aggressive to have a presence. “Please don’t make this harder than it needs to be.” 

There is no response.

He sighs. There is no anger in his voice, no vitriol or rage. Jing Yuan–as you have learned by now–is not prone to fits. In fact you’ve never seen him mad, or without at least a fleeting trace of a smile on his face; it's as if he was blessed by Aha THEMSELF. Because whenever he sees you he cannot help but feel light glimmering in his heart like starlight, making it bloom like pink morning glories. They have tender stems, delicate petals and grow in soil that is rocky and dry, but they are growing nonetheless, guided by your light.

He enters a different alley knowing you are hiding in the dumpster. Trivial really, but impressive nonetheless. Your determination is one of the things that attracts him to you most. It is a double edged sword. It comes in various shades and hues. He sees it in your eyes when he challenges you to a friendly game of Star Chess. Or when you’re cooking a new dish.

Or when you are shouting insults at him like if you curse him enough, you can make him disappear. In a way, it has the opposite effect. Every time you sob and plead he coos and reaches out for you, pulls you in tighter with comforting embraces and sweet, cloying words. 

For a few moments, he simply stands there. A part of him wishes that you would just come out. His footsteps are perfectly audible, and you are entirely perceptive enough to know that he has stopped in front of the alleyway. You know that he is there, waiting for you to surrender to his comfort and charm.

But you don’t. 

It drapes his heart in darkness, those flowers wilting when you don’t. He steps forward slowly, eyes fixed on the dumpster, his expression forlorn. “Dearest…please come out. I won’t hurt you.” It’s a promise, and it is one he cannot break. He hates seeing you in pain. He loves your smile. It is radiant in an infinite number of ways: the upturned quirk of your lips; the soft crinkling of your eyes; the way your irises seem to glow. You are a star of glass in his hands, and he is afraid he has shattered you.

But, he thinks, as he continues his slow conquest forward, nearing the dumpster, would that be so horrible? 

His mind flashes to the art of repairing broken pottery–kintsugi–where broken pieces are glued together with a lacquer mixed with gold powder; it is not meant to not hide where the breaks have occurred, but allow them to shine. He could bring you back together, multiply your luminescence by a thousand suns, and he would want you even more. The flowers in his heart would grow and bloom until his veins have become xylem and his tissues petals, every cell in him wanting your light. Craving it. Needing it.

When his hands–gentle and calloused from centuries of spars and fights–lift you from the dirty dumpster, you scream and wriggle in his tight embrace. His heart is flooded by rainstorms, flooding the flowers.

It has been raining for countless months. It feels like dying.

“Shh…it is alright my love,” he murmurs, his arms squeezing tighter around your torso; it’s not enough force to hurt you or bruise you, but enough to keep your squirming contained. “Let’s return home. I think this has been…enough excitement for one night.”

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

He runs you a bath. You smell like trash now, and that won’t do. He wants the best for you. The best food, the best clothes, the best life. Because when he sees your happiness, even if it is as ephemeral as a shooting star, it rejuvenates his soul. 

The gentle smell of jasmine fills the bathroom as he quietly works shampoo into your hair. By now, you have lost the battle. Is it a sacrifice, though? Or have you truly blundered a piece away on this grand chessboard? Jing Yuan has played you enough times to know your strategies and tactics, the most inner machinations of your mind. You lose to him every time, but always put up a good fight. He hopes that pattern holds true for this game you and him seem to be playing every waking moment.

Water cupped in his hands is brought to your head, washing the suds out of your luxurious hair. Gentle kisses are peppered on your bare shoulders and neck, before his hands reach to massage your shoulder blades. This is what Jing Yuan longs for: days spent in pure domestic bliss. The kind of sunlit silence that leaves him warm and sleepy, craving an afternoon nap next to his lover.

He hums a song. You lean a little more against him, exhausted from your little escapade. He smiles, careful not to chuckle, lest he scares you away like one of his sparrows. Later, perhaps in the morning Jing Yuan will have a conversation with you about this. But for now he is content to enjoy this honeyed moment, bathing in your incandescence, enjoying these brief moments of sunlight before the deluge begins again.

When your fingers start to wrinkle like prunes from the water and your eyes are beginning to droop, he knows it is bedtime. He wraps you up in a fluffy towel, letting you get ready for bed as he does the same; his eyes watchful but fond as he brushes his teeth and lets his hair out of its usual ponytail. Searching for the first signs of wind picking up or darkening skies.

The two of you cuddle in bed, though it’s more like Jing Yuan cuddles you, and you tolerate his embrace. His arms wrap around you, loose enough not to hurt but tight enough to anchor him around you. Drift too far away again, and Jing Yuan doesn’t know if he can recover. He needs you. 

He is tired, too. But he is tired in a different way. His fatigue is like that of a mountain carved in twain by the river of time. One day, both sides of that once-mighty peak will collapse. But you give him strength. You are his guiding light. His North Star. His sun. His Polaris.

His breathing begins to even out and he pulls you closer against him, sweet dreams of you and him begin to dance behind his eyelids. Hopefully, he thinks as he lets himself slip into slumber, one day you will forgive him for ripping you from the sky and placing you in his chest, in the space right next to his heart.

[nothoughtsjustfic]

Swallow - H.JS

🌳Who: Hong Jisoo (Seventeen) x female reader 🌳What: Smut. Fantasy. Fae Jisoo. 🌳Wordcount: 3.4k 🌳Warnings: Oral(male receiving). Inexperienced reader. Big cock Jisoo. Praise. Trickery. Morally dark character. 🌳Summary: “ Ever since you were little, your parents warned you to be careful of the tricks of the fae folk of the woods.

You never paid much mind to the warnings, assuming they were nothing more than stories designed to scare little children into behaving and keeping out of the woods.

A little too late, you learn that you should have listened. ” Minors do NOT interact, which means reblogging and/or commenting on this story. I WILL block any account that interacts without an age indicator in their bio. Masterlist

You remember the day Hong Jisoo arrived in town almost six months ago, just when Mother Nature woke from her winter slumber, bringing forth new life, and apparently, a new, handsome bachelor for the women, single or otherwise, to swoon over.

You would like to say that you are not amongst that particular category of starry eyed maidens, but that would be a downright lie.

From the very first moment your eyes were graced with Jisoo’s otherworldly beauty, you were infatuated and wished he would look your way and bless you with one of his charming smiles.

For weeks, it seemed as if the man knew nothing of your existence, and you were far too shy to ever approach and introduce yourself.

Then one day while out in the woods admiring the beautiful blossoms of your favourite tree, a majestic old beauty deeper into the woods than you know any of the superstitious townsfolk would dare wonder, the man himself happened to appear. He stepped out from behind the tree so fluidly and without prior sign of his presence that it truly seemed as if he came from the tree itself; a preposterous thought that did not remain in your head for more than the time it took for him to smile at you.

You found out then that Jisoo had, in fact, noticed you from his very first moment in the town and had been wanting to introduce himself, but you never seemed to have interest in him so he had respected what he thought your wishes were and kept a respectful distance.

Of course, you had stumbled over your words to correct his assumption and let him know that you are simply too shy. He had smiled at you as if he thought you were utterly precious and promised that from that day onwards, he will always approach you first.

You had not expected him to stick to his word, but he did. Every time Jisoo saw you, he would approach, even just to wish you a good day before parting ways. Though sometimes, when the timing was right, the pair of you would be granted the blessed chance to stroll through the town side by side as you got to know one another.

Over time, your time together grew more frequent and adventurous.

It turns out that Jisoo knows an awful lot about a variety of plant life and the life within the forest; from the life cycle of the caterpillar, to the diet of sparrows and foxes alike.

You had never known someone so knowledgeable on the woodlands and became so enchanted by everything he taught you. You were always so eager for more information to put into use in order to point out plants and little creatures, which you had never noticed before, and proudly recite the knowledge the man had imparted on you during your woodland walks.

So your town strolls quickly diverted to the woods to continue the casual lessons that inevitably always gravitated towards that very same tree under which you first met; it quickly became your official meeting spot and a truly a special place for you, more than it already was.

Now that summer is nearing its end and the days turning colder, you worry over what you can do to keep Jisoo’s attention solely on you for hours at a time when it will soon be too cold to be out in the woods.

As it turns out, you need not worry about the weather nor his attention, Jisoo has a plan in mind to solve both issues. Though there is another reason you should worry, you just are not aware of that yet.

You know from the moment you meet Jisoo at the tree that something is different about today. He is standing in wait for you beside the already arranged, familiar blanket, which he always brings along for the pair of you to sit on side by side with your hand securely in his and a blush on your cheeks.

Though today, something about the happy glint in his eyes does not quite sit right with you when you first see him. Yet when he steps closer to you and out of the sun’s rays, the glint vanishes, so you tell yourself it is simply a trick of the light.  

After sitting side by side with your fingers laced with his own on his thigh closest to you and your head resting on his shoulder, you feel something shift in the air as he sighs.

“My love, I fear I must tell you some news,” he says softly as to not entirely ruin the calm content of the woods around you.

“Bad news?”

“I am afraid so,” is his confirmation.

You let out a sigh of your own and take a moment steel your nerves before straightening up and turning your body slightly to look at him better where he’s seated on your right and leaning back against the bark of the tree. “What is it, Jisoo?”

“It is time for me to move on.”

Your heart immediately drops into your stomach. It takes you a few attempts to speak, only managing to open and close your mouth absurdly in shock for a handful of seconds. “Move on? From me?”

“No, my love, I do not mean from you in particular. Though…” He sighs again and lifts your connected hands up to his mouth so that he can press his lips to the back of your hand. “I always intended to stay only for spring, I meant to leave come summer but I became enamoured with you and found myself unable to leave as planned.”

“Then-then you can stay longer. You remained once before; you can continue to stay here by my side.”

“I cannot, my love. I must leave.” He lifts his head to look at you with a pained gaze that you know in your heart means that there is nothing you can do or say to keep Jisoo here with you.

“I see,” you whisper as you feel your throat start to thicken with impending tears. “I cannot join you?”

“You wish to?”

“I never want to be without you, Jisoo. I love you with everything in me.”

“My precious, sweet, darling,” he breathes out and reaches up with his free hand to tenderly cup your cheek. “How did I become so lucky to gain your attention and affection?”

“By being the kindest, warm hearted man to have ever graced this world with his presence.” He chuckles softly at your honest words and leans closer slightly, making your heart shoot back up into place and thrum rapidly with nervous anticipation.

In all the months you have been meeting Jisoo, he has never once tried to kiss you, even holding your hand took some time to build up to, so this is rightfully partially exciting and partially utterly nerve-wracking.

“May I kiss you?” His request is so softly spoken that it meets your ears on a gentle breeze that sends prickles across your skin. You do not even have to think before nodding in consent. Jisoo smiles that same fond, crinkled eyed smile and strokes his thumb over your cheekbone before he closes the distance and tenderly presses his lips to yours.

The kiss is sweet, simple, barely a few seconds of a motionless press of his soft lips against your own, before he pulls back to honour you with another beautiful, little smile as his thumb brushes over your blush adoringly.

“I have been wanting to do that for such a long time now,” he admits.

“Really?” You can barely talk above a whisper; your body is still so full of nerves and a madly thrumming heart that there is no space left for a louder voice. Though the two of you are so close together that you need not talk any louder for Jisoo to hear you so clearly; as proven when he hums softly in confirmation to your words. “Oh, then perhaps…perhaps it would be wise to make up for lost time?” You suggest shyly, glancing away until he taps his thumb against your bottom lip and draws your suddenly wide eyes back to him.

“That sounds very wise to me, my love,” Jisoo confirms in a lower tone than you have heard him speak in before; it sends a shock of something warm through your body that you have little time to ruminate on before his lips are once again on yours.

This second kiss is leagues different from the first.

Jisoo’s lips slot against yours in a way that feels intentional from the first touch; his head tilts further as his mouth moves slowly, thumb gently prying your jaw to encourage you to follow his movements.

Understandably, your response is hesitant and timid; you have never kissed a man before, let alone like this so you are not sure what exactly to do, nor if you are doing it correctly when you try. But Jisoo makes soft little reassuring sounds and strokes his thumb soothingly over your cheek, causing you to gradually relax and melt into the kiss.

Every time you think the kiss is over as the man pulls back a little and opens his eyes just enough to look at your gradually darkening lips, he simply takes a few breaths then leans back in to claim your mouth all over again.

After a few times, you realise that Jisoo has no intentions whatsoever of letting you escape his hungry lips, not that you wish to. You would spend an eternity discovering all the ways his mouth can dance with your own if given the chance.

It is when your feel his tongue slide against your lip that you truly lose your ability to think coherently and whimper softly while opening your mouth wider to allow the wet muscle to enter your mouth expertly. You try to match his motions, allowing your tongue to curiously search out his own, earning soft, pleased groans from the man, which makes your body tremble a little with excitement and rapidly growing arousal.

How long you kiss for, how long your tongues roll and slide together before you are both forced to break to refill achingly empty lungs, is entirely beyond you. It is not even the last thing on your mind right now; time has simply ceased to exist in your heated, private bubble with Jisoo in the deepest parts of the woods with the grand tree watching over you.

“My love,” Jisoo murmurs breathlessly after a handful of seconds of laboured breathing, breaths mingling with his forehead pressed firmly to yours and his hand still holding your jaw securely. “I must ask for something from you.”

“Anything,” you reply with a heavy exhale and not an ounce of hesitation.

Jisoo leans back and flutters open his eyes to peer at you. As you open your eyes upon feeling his gaze on you, you see a darkness in his eyes that sends shivers down your spine. Shivers you assume mean excitement, arousal; you are not as in touch with your instincts as you should be right now thanks to Jisoo’s skilled tongue swiping away all rational thought.

“Anything?” He repeats, lips slowly lifting into the start of a pleased smirk. “Promise?”

“Whatever you want; I will do anything for you,” you promise with a nod.

“Oh, my sweet, sweet darling,” he coos and leans over to press a final sweet kiss to your lips before letting you go to get to his feet.

“Wh-where are you going?” You panic, feeling thrown off by the man suddenly getting up and try to get to your own feet, though you only manage to get to your knees before his hand is on the top of your head and keeping you there in place.

“Nowhere, my love. You stay just like that; this is perfect for what I want,” he encourages and brushes his fingers through your hair slightly before pulling his hands to himself.

You are utterly clueless about what he means, what he could want from you, and just stare up at his face perplexed, earning a little amused chuckle from the man. Yet he says nothing to explain.

Catching his arms moving in your peripheral, you lower your gaze downwards and realise that he is unlacing his trousers where he stands in front of you. Now that your attention is in the right place, you can see the obscene bulge of his hard cock in his trousers and it makes your hot body heat up feeling both beyond shy and aroused.

“Hm, expected you to divert your gaze,” Jisoo comments as he tugs open his trousers further and lifts his neatly tucked shirt out of the way to reveal that he has entirely forgone underwear as a teasing glimpse of his most intimate of areas meets your wide eyes.

“Do-do you wan-want me to?” You stammer and start to tilt your head back to easier look up at him, yet he puts one of his big hands back on top of your head to keep your focus angled to where he is pulling his cock from his trousers, making you gasp softly.

It is the first time you have ever seen a man’s nudity, let alone one in such an aroused state, so you cannot be certain but you truly believe that all men cannot be so well endowed as Jisoo. If all men are quite this big, then you cannot believe that so many women would be willing to take such girth for reason past reproductive necessity.

Then again, if all men were as beautiful as Jisoo, you think it would be much more understandable for a woman to want to be split open by such a large cock.

“No, my love, I want you to look; how else are you doing to take my cock into that pretty mouth of yours if your attention is elsewhere, hm?”

You swallow thickly, nervous yet excited when he steps closer, cock in his free hand as he strokes it slowly. “M-my mouth?”

“Yes, sweet girl, your mouth. You said whatever I want, you promised me, so open up and let me in.” Jisoo stops directly in front of you, so close that his crotch is almost in your face and then he leads the tip of his cock to your mouth and taps your slightly parted lips. “Come on, sweet thing, open.”

Tentatively, you open your mouth slightly, then a little wider when his cock presses more incessantly against your lower lip, smearing the wetness from the tip against your flesh.

“That’s it, good girl,” he coos as you open your mouth wide enough that he can slide the tip of his cock onto your tongue. The praise makes the flush on your cheeks darken happily as you lift your gaze as best as you can with his hand on the top of your head and his cock in your mouth, to peer at him. “Oh, don’t you look beautiful like this,” he breathes out, sounding truly taken by the sight of you on your knees with his cock in your mouth.

A pleases hum tries to leave your mouth, though with your lips spread around his girth the sound simply vibrates against his sensitive skin and makes him hiss as he lets go of his cock to plant his palm against the tree at your back while pushing further into your mouth and forcing you to accept the intrusion with his other hand moving to thread his fingers into your hair.

It is a lot; to have your mouth filled in a way you never expected, with his taste starting to coat your tongue in a flavour you are genuinely rather pleased by, while he towers over you until his broad frame blocks the sun from meeting you.

“You just sit there and look pretty for me darling, I will do all the work,” he says and grins a little when you try to nod slightly and close your eyes. “Good girl.”

At first, Jisoo is careful as he slowly works his thick length in and out of your mouth; never pulling out entirely nor pressing in too far knowing that you have never done such a thing before so he cannot rush and risk hurting you. That would ruin the experience.

Patiently, the man leisurely uses your hot, wet mouth for his own pleasure, lust heavy gaze glued on where his slick cock slips through the ring of your lips. He can see you fidgeting in his peripheral, darkly flushed cheeks clearly confirming your arousal, yet he ignores it and focuses on steadily increasing the speed and depth at which he feeds you his cock in a way that causes you no discomfort.

As much as Jisoo is a truly patient man, he wishes he could fuck into your pretty, little mouth with fervour, force his cock into your throat and use you until he can pull out and paint your features with his cum. The only reason he can hold back from just taking what his body aches for is the thought that he will have the chance to use you however he deems fit in the future.

The mental reminder that you have promised him whatever he wants, that you have fallen for his charm and perfect smiles sends Jisoo’s arousal rushing hot and heavy through his body.

“My love,” he pants when he feels himself close to the edge. “Whatever I want, right? You promised whatever I want,” he reminds. You whine a little, needy, but what for you do not even know. It makes him chuckle lowly. “Then swallow.”

It does not register in your fuzzy mind just what that means until he moans, curling over your head a little as he forces the tip of his cock to the entrance of your throat where you feel liquid suddenly spurting out and you realise he wants you to swallow his cum.

You feel utterly filthy in an oddly pleasant way as you obey, working your throat as best as you can to swallow down everything he gives you; at least you try to but he pulls back before you can lave your tongue over his length to claim the last drops.

As Jisoo grasps his cock in his hand to smear the last of his cum over your bruised, still wide open lips, he starts to laugh. Slowly at first, but it builds and builds until he is laughing heartily and sounding so pleased in a way that does not sit right with you.

You open your eyes to look up at him yet have to close them again as the sunlight harshly pierces your eyes. It does not make sense for it to be so bright now when it was not before, especially with the man still standing in front of you and blocking the sun.

You are forced to flutter your eyes for a little as your eyes grow used to the strange, over saturated light before you can keep them open and look up at Jisoo. He too looks different, colours a little brighter as if he has captured the sun in his very skin.

He is still laughing when your confused eyes meet his joyfully manic ones.

“Wh-what’s funny?” You question, voice slightly hoarse even if he had been gentle with you and barely entered your throat, yet there is an unease growing in your chest and spiralling bigger and darker down into your stomach making your voice waver weakly.

This is all wrong; you no longer feel like you are somewhere known and safe to you, both in these woods and with the man in front of you.

“Oh, my sweet, little love,” he coos around his laughter and moves his hand from your hair to cup your jaw and tilt your head backwards to meet his gaze better, to let you see the darkness flit across it; the same darkness you had earlier assumed to be nothing more than arousal.

The same darkness you should have taken as warning.

“Were you never taught the most important rule to abide by in these woods?” His head tilts slightly as he smiles a little too big down at you, showing almost all of his too perfect teeth. “Do you not know to never consume anything given to you by a fae?”

Don’t forget to reblog if you liked to help spread the story and let others read it too! And don't be shy to leave comments or send an ask so I can see your thoughts 🥺 💖

Permanent taglist: @okiedokrie, @tusswrites, @svtiddiess

[mrsparrasblog]

Mission save the human race Pt1.

Pt2

2090 Days since it happened since your life changed completely. You can still remember the day of the outburst like it was yesterday. You were stuck performing an appendectomy on a five-year-old, and then there were shots – the military evacuating us. You didn't take it seriously at that time; thought it would be like every pandemic, and there would be a cure soon. But after weeks spent with your family in a military camp, you knew it was nothing like this. You remembered how the military shot women who even got near to a zombie – too much of a risk that they could get infected. The irony of the whole thing was that women were the carriers of this unknown virus, while men only turned when they got bitten. Women turned by a simple scratch of a zombie, or when they died of any cause, they would turn in a glimpse of a second into these brainless creatures.

After it went completely downhill and more healthy people got shot without any remorse, your dad, brother, and you tried to flee out of the military base, resulting in your dad and brother getting shot, screaming you should just take their gun and leave as fast as possible. You never felt more remorse than leaving their corpses behind, but you had more than enough years to mourn them and pray for forgiveness. On the way to a safe place, you noticed small details, weird details. You got scratched, even bitten on the way, expecting to fully turn into a brainless monster – but you didn't, and to this date, you didn't know why. Well, there wouldn't be a lab anymore to find out anyway, so you just accepted it as a blessing first. But after a while, you learned the true curse of living in this shithole.

The survivors were scarier than the zombies and almost as inhuman as them – while most didn't try to hurt you since a surgeon always could get handsy in a zombie apocalypse, you still saw the horrors of self-proclaimed "Leaders" who killed in the most inhumane way just to prove their dominance. They weren't better than animals. You saw how different groups tried to start wars with each other to win resources and territory. There was still enough place and enough resources in the world for both of them to survive, so it was just a power play. If you had had a say in this, you would have tried everything to start a civilization with many people trying to rebuild humanity with strong people as guards, people farming, and people working in the infirmary, but no one ever listened to you. Why should they, as the Apocalypse proceeded, the hatred of women got only worse – "The reason for the apocalypse," resulting in women getting used, tortured, and raped if they weren't useful in other ways, and you thanked every day your mother who practically forced you to study medicine instead of law.

After months, you finally had enough and ran away from the camp – not tolerating the inhumane ways. You wondered if you were the inhuman one for leaving people there who you could have healed if you had stayed, but sometimes you needed to be egoistical, and you at least tried to stay as innocent as possible through the apocalypse. You lost everything but not your good heart which made you incredibly proud of yourself.

You didn't know how you survived this. You didn't have a particular skill set; sure, you were a pediatric surgeon before all of this, you were capable, you were smart, which probably led you to survive. But you weren't something that was of use like a soldier or police officer. God, before this Apocalypse, you didn't even carry your groceries to your apartment. You were screwed but somehow you still survived, with your one handgun that you nicked off the corpse of your dead dad. The irony was you didn't even use it in three years; you never used your gun – god, did you even know how to use it? You highly doubted it.

You claimed yourself a small cottage in the forest. It wasn't much but pretty well-hidden, and you built-in safety measurements so no walker could surprise you by night. You lived in a shithole but at least in a comfortable manner. The house had three small bedrooms, a kitchen with a tiled stove, a fireplace, a water source, and enough space outside so you could grow all sorts of vegetables and fruits. Pumpkins, potatoes, cucumbers, tomatoes, strawberries, and raspberries highlight your perfect garden. You even had some apple and cherry trees you took great pride in. Before all started, you couldn't say you were good at gardening; even your cactus didn't survive the neglect you put them through – but you used all your remaining time learning about farming and providing for yourself, growing plants you can use as medication. In your imagination, you would somehow manage to have some chickens and cows, but you knew it would draw way too much attention, and you liked your hidden lifestyle way too much for this to happen. You were quite naive; you thought this would stay this way until-.

You heard sounds from your garden – nothing unusual since some local animals came and tried to steal a carrot or two, but then the sounds of multiple men echoed.

"Fuck."

They blundered in weird ways, talking about finding a safe place and raiding something. You ran upstairs, grabbed your handgun, and hid in the closet.

"Fuck, here isn't anything useful," a man with a hoarse voice and a British accent cursed all my cabins violently.

"Johnny, you will get through this; you won't die on me," a man said with a worried voice.

"He has a fucking bullet in his shoulder; how can he fucking survive this?" A bullet in his shoulder, probably not gone through. If it didn't hit anything major, his survival rate would be 80% in a normal world, depending on the material of the bullet; he could survive or die. If it's lead and stays inside his body, he will be dead in at least 4 days from lead poisoning. If the wound isn't properly cleaned – blood poisoning. If they take it out of him and don't properly sew him – death. This man hasn't a high chance of surviving. You could at least triple the chance of his survival, but if you get out there, you would probably lose the chance of survival by several digits. Your morale was high; you swore an oath to help every human you were capable of saving, but was it worth more than your own life?

"Shut the fuck up," the worried man screamed at the other.

You decided to stay in the closet, a choice you'd later regret, your lack of courage weighing on you as survival seemed uncertain. Tears slowly started to fall from your eyes, running against your soft rosy cheeks. Your handgun was clutched tightly in your sweaty palms, your breath trembling from pure horror, convinced that today might be your last.

With a sudden grunt, the closet door swung open. Before you stood four imposing men, each holding big machine guns, and a fifth man, held by another, similarly armed.

In front of you was a middle-aged man with brown hair, a fishing hat atop his head, and the most amazing blue eyes you had ever seen. He was tall and muscular, with a well-groomed beard for an apocalypse. Handsome and scary simultaneously.

The second man was one of the most attractive individuals you'd ever laid eyes on. He had brown-golden skin, trusting brown eyes, and a cap perched on his head. His gaze held a mix of awe and confusion as he looked at you.

The third man was colossal, ripped with muscles, and possibly the tallest person you'd encountered. He sported a blonde buzz cut and blue eyes that glowed red, giving him an intimidating aura. With an unhealed scar across his eyes and some stubles, he probably was incapable of growing a beard because of the scar tissue.

The fourth man looked similar to the one with the fishing hat; the only difference was his dirty blonde hair and tattoo sleeves. You noticed the prosthetic leg and wondered whether it had been dealt with properly – you sure as hell could help him too.

The last one was the man who got shot, and held by the scary men. He was the shortest of the group but still taller than you by several inches. His hair was in a funny mohawk, and he was ripped – not a bit; he was built like a fucking powerhouse. You couldn't shake the thought away that if you had known him through med school, learning anatomy would have been different – all those muscles – focus.

You thought that your potential killers were all good-looking, each in different ways. Despite this, you still pointed your gun at them, and they held their machine guns at you.

"A woman – I thought they were all dead," the man with the cap said, making you curious. All dead? When you last left your forest two years ago, there weren't many women, but there were still some out there.

You gathered all your remaining courage, shaking as you said, "Leave me alone, or I shoot." They laughed at you. Okay, they had more people and bigger guns, but you could still harm at least one of them.

"Oh, dove, your gun is still secured," the man with the fishing hat said, trying to hold out a laugh.

You tried to fidget with your gun, but you didn't know how to unsecure it. So, you just lowered it and held your hands up in the air.

"We don't have time for this shit. Knock her out or something; we need to fucking save Johnny," the scary man said, sending shivers down your spine out of fear.

"If you don't kill me, I'll save your friend." Win-win situation; you'll survive, and your morals are saved.

"Shut the fuck up. How could a stupid girl who can't even use a gun save him?" the scary man screamed. You were sure that he had a special bond with this Johnny, sure as hell best friends or lovers by how he acted.

"I'm a surgeon; I can remove the bullet," you said.

"You're a surgeon?" the tattoo man asked in disbelief at your claim.

"Which field?" the scary man asked you.

"Uhm, I was a pediatric surgeon."

"Does he look like a fucking child to you?"

"Simon, we don't have much choice. It's better than nothing; he will die if we don't do anything," Fisher hat man tried to convince Simon.

Simon agreed. "What do you need?"

You were afraid to be a bit rusty, but you'll make it. "Okay, one of you will bring me as much water as he can gather, one needs to guard the door. I don't need any interruptions in my surgery. One needs to stay in the room; this will hurt as hell without proper numbing. My surgical equipment is in the closet by the bathroom, as well as the medication I produced. You need to tie him to the bed; I don't know how, and I don't care, as long as he doesn't try to kill me while I try to fix his shoulder, and I need a promise that I won't be killed if he doesn't survive."

"Yes, ma'am," the tattoo guy said and was on his way. All the men worked efficiently, making you wonder if they had some military background since they listened better than my old residents, at least.

The man who introduced himself as Kyle - by the way, the only one who introduced himself to you - tied Johnny to the bed. Everything was now prepared, and you tried to make this place as sterile as possible.

You sat down on Johnny since you couldn't stand properly by the bed for the surgery and had the advantage of holding him down with your body weight.

"Hey Johnny, this will hurt a bit, okay, but you need to be strong, okay?" You talked to him like with your child patients, but that didn't matter right now. Right now, it mattered to save him.

Johnny spoke completely drowsy from the pain, "Am I deid, Lt? Or how come dae I see an angel oan tap o' me?" You chuckled; even in pain, you noticed that that man was a total flirt.

"Shut up, Johnny, and survive," Simon said.

"Love ya, Lt."

"I love you too, idiot." You were right in your thoughts; they were indeed a couple and a handsome one. You couldn't shake the feeling away, though, that he probably would kill you in the most vicious way if Johnny didn't survive.

You slid your scalpel through him and started the surgery after at least six terrible hours of fear and exhaustion; you were finished; you saved him. You were a bit envious of Johnny; Simon stayed the whole time by his side without being grossed out or yawning for a second; they loved each other. You never experienced that kind of love and never will...

Now he only needs to survive the aftermath of the surgery, which will be harder for his body than the actual surgery since the adrenaline wore off. You were glad that you were able to nick some antibiotics and real medication from a nearby emergency station. You were always better safe than sorry.

You removed the blood from yourself and washed yourself with cold water, which felt like an eternity till you pronounced yourself clean enough. You put on some cozy clothing and walked to the living room where three men sat sandwiched on the small couch. Simon stayed by Johnny.

You planted yourself across from them and looked at them until Fisher Man Hat spoke.

"Thank you for saving our man; I'm John, by the way."

"Alex."

"Well, you already know my name; how can we call you?" Kyle asked you.

"Uhm, everyone always called me Dr. Angel, since the kiddies compared me to one," you replied, telling them the truth.

"Beautiful nickname for a beautiful woman," John said.

You couldn't hide a blush, and Kyle asked you how it came that you lived alone. You explained your life story without boring them for one second.

"Tell me something about the six of you."

"Uhm, we were special forces back in the days before everything went downhill. We protected some scientists who worked on a cure, but they didn't make it and died in one of their experiments. We are originally seven, but the other two are on a raid right now for our camp. I know we probably scare you, but if you want to, you can stay with us, no strings attached. We know how humanity changed, and being the only woman alive makes it even scarier, but we will protect you since you saved one of our own," John explained. You were still confused, only woman alive? How is this possible? Well, you were immune to the virus, but you didn't need to tell them right now since this would make you even more vulnerable.

"Only woman alive?"

"Yes, dove, the woman's got instinct with them, the human race." You gulped; your moral codex spoke to you again. Shouldn't you prevent that from happening? Or is this nature's plan? You didn't want to think about it further.

"Does anyone of you want to eat something? I'm starving," you exclaimed, trying to change the subject to something less uncomfortable.

"You don't have to feed us; you already did enough," Kyle said.

"Nonsense! I'm hungry, and I have more than enough vegetables to feed a whole army," you protested and walked towards your kitchen. You took out the preserved tomatoes and potatoes and wanted to slice them, but a tall figure already removed your knife from your hands.

"Let me help; it's the least thing I can do after you did so much for us," Alex said and started to slice the vegetables while you tried to heat your pot. The other two put plates on your small kitchen table, making it feel incredibly domestic for you. They looked like husbands caring for their wives, and you wanted to shake out the thoughts in your head. You were just underfucked from the whole apocalypse, but deep down, you knew they did something to you, made you feel a tight knot in your stomach.

You took one portion up to Simon, who still gathered around Johnny's bed. With a sudden movement, the tall man hugged you tight, almost crushing you with his sheer strength.

"Thank you for saving him and sorry for being mean to you."

"I understand; I'd do the same if someone I dearly loved would be injured in this hell of a life," he tried to pull a smile at my words. "Here's some hot food, and give Johnny his antibiotics in an hour, okay?"

"Hot food? I haven't had that since forever."

I laughed, "Get used to it, big boy." He raised a brow but didn't question it.

You went downstairs and saw the men laughing while waiting for you like true gentlemen. Kyle blushed a bit when you came down, and they instantly stopped their talk. You asked yourself what they talked about, maybe something that would be dangerous. They ate like starved men and told you how long they didn't have anything warm in their bellies, making you realize how lucky you were in your cottage with your grown food. The only thing you were missing was someone to warm your bed—stop it, you said to your inner thoughts.

You gave the remaining boys some blankets and showed them enough places to sleep, and as they didn't mind sharing, everything went perfectly. Alex took the patrol for the night, telling you it needed to be done even if you never patrolled for the last two years. The other men called you naive for it. You checked one time on Johnny if he had a fever or anything like that, but to your luck, he was fine, still asleep and high on medication. Simon slept beside him, and you couldn't stop yourself from putting a blanket on top of him. He deserved the comfort after taking care of his boyfriend that way.

John walked you down to your room, talking a bit to you, which gave you more comfort than you wanted to admit. You were a human after all, and humans missed humans when they lived two years in isolation to survive.

"Did you ever think about what it means for you to be the only woman alive?" he asked you.

"It's pretty weird to think about it."

"Kinda."

"I guess the human race will go extinct then."

"There are ways if you decide to—you know, save the planet and everything. You seem like a girl who always wants to do the right thing."

"You mean getting pregnant?"

"Exactly, saving the human race and everything."

"Would it be selfish if I let it die?"

"A bit, but it's your choice. I will always protect you from everyone who wants to take advantage of you. You're part of the team now."

"And what if I decide to want to save it?"

His eyes lit up. "Then, of course, I'd support you, like every man on this team. I think most of my boys wouldn't be repulsed by helping you to reach this goal." You blushed hard. Did he just tell you—shit.

"And what about you, John?"

"I'd be more than willing to participate. You're incredibly looking, dove, and I'm just a man behind all this."

"I'll think about it," but you couldn't shake away the feeling of them—you could have all of them.

"Take your time, dove." He kissed you on your rosy cheek and left you completely crazy alone with your thoughts. It was too long ago, and you felt the familiar feeling building up inside of you. Fuck it, you thought and decided to speak with them about it tomorrow. You're a good person after all, right? And that's what a good person does?

[shegotheruby]

WET

SUMMARY: You weren't expecting Lee Jihoon to avoid ALL of your advances. You've practically been throwing yourself at him for years. and now you're roommates. How are you supposed to survive when you're this hot and bothered?

WC: 7.5k

tw: smut /mdni

note: cross posted from my AO3 account (wooziswife)

God. You've got to get yourself under control. It's been two years of living with Kwon Soonyoung, and no matter how many hookups you have with other guys, you can't help but think about one man in particular in the middle of the night. No, not Soonyoung, that's actually disgusting. He's like a brother. It's his best friend you find lingering in your dreams. The infamous Lee Jihoon. Hoshi's bandmate and former roommate.

It all stems from the night you met. You had been hired as a choreographer for one of Seventeen's routines. The night before your first practice Hoshi invited you to a bar under the preface of "getting to know each other as coworkers" You knew it was just an excuse to interact with a woman and drink alcohol, but you let it happen. You even let him introduce you to his friends and shove you into Kim Mingyu's arms. It was there when Jihoon first saw you, grinding on the dance floor against his friend's broad chest. He watched you not-so-subtly rubbing your ass against various men, and you watched him watch you. It was invigorating. You noticed him sitting in the corner, crossing his muscular arms over his chest, clad in a skin-tight black t-shirt. He had black hair that day, barely grazing the tops of his shoulders. His gaze was strong and you knew from the second you laid eyes on him that he was your type. You imagined what he would be like in the bedroom. Probably a giver.

Jihoon, however… he didn't even seem interested. You caught him staring multiple times throughout the evening, but he never came onto you after many invitations to join on the dance floor. You used all of the tricks, glancing over your shoulder at him almost an embarrassing amount of times, but he sat there, unmoving. You started to wonder if he was just a voyeur. How could he stare for so long, but not be interested in taking action? You were basically begging him (nonverbally) to follow you home. From then on, he became your your personal challenge. How can you get this guy into your bed?

***

Years passed and you slept with several of the members. You even had a threesome with Jeonghan and Seungcheol more than once. It was easy for you to seduce men. From freshman year of college you were practiced in the art of the Hang and Bang. You'd invite them over for a movie and before long you were gagging on their cock. You were blessed with a body that curved in all the right places, and you knew how to dress to hint what you were interested in.

Whenever Jihoon came over for game night with the guys, you made sure to wear your shortest shorts. When you stopped by during practice, you would bring snacks for the members, purposefully grazing his fingers when you handed his over. You made sure to make eye contact with him when you were sucking on a sucker or candy. You would send him selfies from the club, when you knew you looked hot. You'd invite him to the movie theater, choosing specifically sexual films. He always turned those invites down.

You made sure to wear red when you accompanied one of the guys to company parties, complete with ruby lipstick. He had a song about it for goodness sake. He had to have known you were coming onto him. You always laughed at Jihoon's jokes, grabbing onto an arm flirtatiously. Lingering a moment longer than normal to admire his biceps. It was an endless spiral of failures. Night after night, month after month, he looked at you like you were just a desperate girl. Just another one of Hoshi's friends. Never giving in to your desires. Maybe you should just give up. It's starting to make you feel bad. It wasn't like you needed Jihoon to pleasure you, you had plenty of fun. Chan gave you hours of head and Mingyu satisfied your submissive side with his dominance. Dokyeom had a rather filthy mouth and Jun knew how to use his dancer hips. The members were, to put it lightly, athletic and well versed in intimacy.

You never spent a night with your roommate, that relationship was different. Not only was Soonyoung one of the few uninterested men, he was in a committed relationship with your cousin. You had introduced them 2 years back, and they immediately hit it off. There were times when seeing them together made your heart swell, and there were times when you wanted to gag at their PDA.

Regardless, you were happy for them and after almost 700 days, you had been waiting for them to propose moving in together. It's not that you wanted to move out of soonyoung's apartment -you loved living there- but it was time. They were spending almost every night at each other's homes anyways. It only made sense to share rent.

...

So here you are, sitting in the living room, jaw almost on the floor when he hit you with a curveball.

"what do you mean?" you stumbled, eyes open wide.

"Come on y/n" Hoshi sighed, grabbing your shoulders, "you've known for a while that I wanted her to move in with me."

"Yes, Soonyoung. that is not the part i'm focusing on here. What do you mean you asked Jihoon if I could move in with him? Are you Stupid!?"

"No. I'm smart! You're both my best friends, and Jihoon is looking for a roommate. I'm not kicking you to the curb without another option! Just move in with him. His complex is nice as fuck and they have a massive pool. I know you're into night swims."

"Hosh i'm like 90% positive that he hates me! We never talk and he always glares at me when we hang out."

"Trust me. Hate is the opposite of what he feels for you, and I've noticed the way you act around him. You’re like…obsessed with him.”

"Say that again and i'll bite your dick off."

"Woah!! Don't threaten mini Soon like that! He didn't do anything to you!"

"Don't refer to your dick like that, it's weird."

"Don't change the subject. Will you please just consider it?"

***

after a lot of arguing, and a lot of persuading, you did consider it. You made the move on a Tuesday afternoon, in the middle of August. It made you nervous at first, to be living with Jihoon. This was the man you had practically been salivating over for years, and now he lived right down the hall. You tried your best to be a good roommate, but it wasn't comfortable like it was with Soonyoung. Where he used to leave dishes in the sink and complain about how clean you were, Jihoon was the opposite. He kept everything in complete order. You never had to take out the trash because he took care of it. The wall of penthouse windows were always perfectly shined and the black leather couch was regularly polished. His bedroom door was always closed but you occasionally heard music coming from inside. It was good. You knew Woozi was a talented producer, but to witness songs that he never released made you feel special, even if you weren't meant to hear them.

Sometimes you came home to the smell of freshly cooked rice or ramen. If he wasn’t cooking, it still smelled nice. He always kept the entry way scented with candles or wall plug ins. It was homey, and you felt yourself wanting him more and more each day. Years of him declining your advances proved that he didn't want anything to do with you, but it didn't help you to live in such close proximity. You washed your clothes with the same detergent, so you closed your eyes at night and imagined he was laying there next to you, embracing you with his strong arms. You occasionally bumped into each other at the gym, and you tried not to stare at him, grunting under the force of bars twice your weight. Tried not to stare at how he looked shirtless.

Whenever you messaged Jihoon, it wasn't an attempt to get him into your bed anymore. Now, it was an attempt to become friends. You needed that level of comfort you used to feel with Soonyoung. You would still bring snacks to practice, but Jihoon's now had a note written on a napkin. "Hope you have a good day" or "see you at home :)." He never mentioned anything, but you did start to see him smiling when you walked into a room. You still wanted him. God you wanted him BAD. But you forced that desire down for the sake of the relationship you had now. You stopped hooking up with the other Seventeen members. You wouldn't be caught dead with a guy in your new place. Never. (Especially not one of Jihoon’s friends. You used to flirt with them in front of him to make him jealous, but that felt wrong now).

***

Life slowly changed. You're not sure when it happened -a few months into your new situation probably- but the friendship did start to grow. You bantered back and forth on a regular basis, and you started eating dinner together on Thursday nights. Instead of running into each other at the gym, you started going to the gym together. He accepted a few invitations to the movies, because you suggested action films instead of romances. He showed you some of his work if you caught him in a good mood, and you came to realize that he allowed bear hugs early in the morning when he hadn't fully woken up. Sometimes after a long dance practice you would help massage some knots out of his neck and he would pay you back by rubbing icy hot on your back after an intense gym day.

It was especially helpful to your relationship when both of your families came down sick during Christmas. You were both supposed to visit home and the fact that you had to change your plans was beyond disappointing. It helped though, that you at least had each other. You could have been stranded alone, but you made the most of it. You got a Christmas tree and learned how to bake your own gingerbread. You sang Christmas carols (off key) and he laughed with crescent shaped eyes as you danced around the living room in pajamas you forced him to match with you.

Your families ended up making the trip to visit you for new years, staying in a hotel down the street. Together you hosted them for a home cooked dinner and it felt domestic. Your sister, of course, knew about your crush on him and spent hours trying to convince you to confess your feelings, but that just wasn’t going to happen. It was still fun though, and you even got everyone involved in a rowdy game of name-that-tune (seventeen edition). You won, on a team with his mom, much to Jihoon’s dismay.

It was nice seeing him get along with your parents and siblings. He wooed your mother with his ability to play piano, and had your brother hooked when he admitted to liking webtoons. They got along with Soonyoung too, but never like this. Whenever you hosted them at the other apartment, they would just question Soonyoung about his relationship with your cousin, trying to convince him to help you find a partner. This time, they spent the trip acting normal. Chatting with Jihoon, but not pressuring you too much.

He was an important person in your life, actually…you think he might have become your favorite person, and you were grateful for Soonyoung. He was looking out for you when he set you up in this situation, and it was turning out great. You loved having a clean roommate, and did enjoy plenty of night swims in the private pool area. You liked having a friend that taught you new things, like how to play the guitar and how to cook. You loved the moments when you laughed until you cried over a stupid video he sent you, and cherished the moments when he comforted you after your grandpa passed away.

There was a time when you were practicing really hard for a choreography job you had landed. It was possibly the largest payout you would see yet, and through the excitement of it, you were nervous. Being the trained dancer he is, Jihoon helped you a lot. He let you try different moves and acted like your test subject as you tried different partner stunts and positions. He even asked you for your opinions on some lyrics he was writing, and of course you thought it was fabulous. You offered up words of encouragement, but included small bits of advice to help him polish up the project.

You had truly become best friends. You knew Jihoon’s secrets, he knew yours (mostly)… and by this point, you had memorized his schedule. He knew yours too. Not much about him surprised you anymore, and you only allowed yourself to think about him sexually when you were alone at night.

***

One evening you came home late, sometime around two or three in the morning. It wasn't a shock to see a low flicker of light coming from under his door, he was usually awake late into the evenings. What was a shock, however, were the sounds you heard. Instead of music or the low muffled anime, you heard moans. Light, airy breaths coming from the man you wanted so badly, pleasuring himself to what you could only assume was pornhub. You had been living together for almost six months at this point, and he had never brought anyone home. You never heard those kinds of noises, and immediately felt the blood rush to your cheeks. It was like you were glued to the floor. This was a personal moment, and you totally shouldn't be listening, but he sounded so heavenly. Images of his muscles flashed in your brain and you sat on the couch, silently listening to him through the wall. Your hand slipped into your leggings almost involuntarily, and you allowed your head to fall back as you masturbated to the sweet sounds of Jihoon coming undone.

It was embarrassing, how turned on you felt from simply hearing him. you circled your fingers around your clit, sliding along your wetness with ease. You opened your eyes to look at the sky through the skylight above you. It was a beautiful night, and you might have let a few of your own moans slip out. Not loud ones, really just heavy breaths if you’re being honest. You dipped your fingers inside your hole and imagined they were his. His fingers are much longer than yours. You’ve thought about him like this more times than you can count…but here…. now… the knowledge that he’s jerking off in the other room sends a rush through your spine. On a normal night you could pleasure yourself for a long time to the thought of his panting, but hearing it for real sent you over the edge quickly. You came hard, harder than you have with just your hands in a long time. You spent a few moments breathing, realizing that his moans had stopped too. You retreated to your room before he had a chance to realize you were eavesdropping.

You tried to sleep. You really did. But the sounds kept replaying in your head. How were you supposed to get over your crush (because let's admit it, your attraction to him had developed into a big, fat, massive crush) when he was consuming your thoughts entirely? You tossed and turned for 45 minutes before changing into a red bikini and leaving the apartment. Swimming at night was a regular occurence, not because you needed more exercise, but because you liked the quiet. You liked the way it helped you clear your mind, and you liked the cool temperature of the water gliding along your skin.

You thought you were quiet, but not quiet enough. Because what you didn't realize was that Jihoon heard you moving around. He heard you come into the apartment an hour before, and he DEFINITELY heard you heavy breathing on the couch. That realization might have helped him reach completion. Maybe he didn't mind. Maybe he did it on purpose. See, if he wanted to be quiet, he could. But after this much time, he felt that he won the game of cat and mouse. You chased him for long enough, and maybe he was finally ready to give in and show you just how much he liked your body. How much he liked YOU.

He waited for a few minutes before changing into his own swim trunks and wandering down to the pool. He knew you well enough to know that's where you would be. You were a few laps in when you stopped for a drink of water. It was then that you looked up to see him sitting on the edge, feet in the water, watching you move. You jerked with a bit of shock and blushed. He wordlessly lowered himself into the water and moved towards you, an expression on his face that you had never seen before.

“I didn’t realize you were awake” You lied. “I hope I didn’t wake you up.”

he continued moving towards you.

“Yes you did” he replied, watching you slowly back away.

You could hear your heart beating out of your chest as your back connected with the nearest wall. He reached you a moment later and, much to your surprise, rested his arms on either side of you, caging you in.

“I think you might have heard me having a private moment” he said, voice deep and sultry.

You tried to object, but your brain short circuited. All you could do was think about his shirtless form standing so close to your barely clothed one. His face looked sexy in the dim lighting, and you couldn’t help but notice how plump his tired lips looked.

He leaned a little closer until those lips were brushing against your ear. “and I think you liked it.”

“Are you accusing me of eavesdropping on your sex moans?”

“You think my moans are sexy?”

it’s like your body is controlling itself at this point as you reach your arms forward, wrapping them around his neck.

“Unfortunately I’ve spent hours dreaming about what your moans sound like, Jihoon.”

“What would you say if I felt the same?” He asked nudging his face against your neck, hands slowly rubbing down your arms, ending with a comfortable place on your hips.

All you can do is stare at him in surprise.

“Do you even know how painful it was to avoid your advances all this time?” he continues. “Every time you wear this my dick gets so hard I have to excuse myself.”

He glances down at your revealing attire, obviously appreciating your boobs. His hands stay still on your hips but his thumb lightly plays with the elastic of your red bottoms.

“So why haven’t you fucked me yet?” you ask. It’s a fair question…you gave him plenty of opportunities.

“Because.” he clicks his tongue. “I saw the way you looked at me the night we met. This has all been a game to you.”

“Is that so bad?” You counter, lightly circling your hands on the nape of his neck.

“Not bad” you see a flicker of amusement in his gaze. “I’ve quite enjoyed watching you throw yourself at me.”

“Ah, so you did notice.” you sigh “I was starting to wonder if you were gay.”

“I noticed every time you ‘dropped’ something right in front of me.” he grabs your ass. “I noticed when you ‘forgot’ a bra.” he nips at your neck. “and I Definitely noticed when you fucked half of my team.”

“Were you jealous?”

“Insanely.”

“Did you wish it was you?” you press.

“Yes”

“Were you thinking about me an hour ago?”

“Maybe.”

“Do you touch yourself often, Hoonie.” You flirt, tilting your head innocently. “Maybe I should give you some help.” You press yourself against his bare chest. voice lowering to almost a whisper, “I have a feeling I’ll feel better than your hand.”

He snaps. Leaning forward and capturing your lips in a frantic kiss, dipping his tongue in like he’s kissed you a thousand times before. Your lips meet in such a perfect way, it’s like they were crafted to fit together by god himself. You lift your hands into his hair, manicured fingers appreciating how soft it is. His hands squeeze at your hips and despite the cool water, you feel like you could burn from the contact.

He kisses you like a man starved. (and maybe he kind of was. You’re not sure if you’ve ever seen him kiss someone). You were already pressed together, but he stepped forward, pinning you even tighter to the wall. he used one hand to lift your chin, opening your mouth wider to him. He wasn’t the tallest guy, but luckily for you, you’re short. You think he likes that about you. The way you’re looking up at him, eyes half lidded as he accelerates the kiss with passion. His mouth tastes like his toothpaste. Minty and fresh, and you’re not surprised. Everything about him is put together. Clean. He is refreshing, and you could stay like this forever. Enjoying this dance. tongues twirling together in perfect synchronization, hands desperately grabbing at whatever they can find purchase on. He smells intoxicating. His cologne perfectly mixing bergamot and cedar wood. You’re suddenly grateful that you tried a new perfume today. What he doesn’t verbalize is the fact that he’s very much enjoying your lavender aroma. Very much enjoying how your mouth tastes sweet, muted remnants of the dessert wine you paired with dinner tonight.

He captures your bottom lip between his teeth, tugging softly and eliciting a stifled moan from you. Men didn’t usually have you moaning before your pants were off, but everything about him is different. Your hands leave his hair in favor of running down his back, appreciating the rippling muscles. The deep valley that runs down the center. His grab both sides of your face, taking complete control of your mind. You really do feel like your brain is short circuiting. He uses this position to tilt your head, mouth leaving yours to kiss a trail down your neck. Your head lasts about two seconds before it drops backwards. Eyes rolling back as you completely give yourself to him, like you always wished you could. His lips are warm, turning your pale complexion a hue of pink. You’re not sure if you even care. Don’t care if he sucks it until you’re bruised purple. You just want him to keep going, it feels so good. So right.

His hands find a new resting place just beneath your breasts, cupping them with palms flat against your ribs. Your skin tingles everywhere. Your fingers continue appreciating his back. You feel him reacting to your touch, slightly twitching whenever you brush him just right. You don’t know how long you stay like that until his lips retreat from your collarbone, meeting yours again with fervor. His tongue guides the kiss, leading you into pure bliss.

A surge of confidence overtakes you and you flip your position so Jihoon is the one with his back pressed against the pool’s edge. You feel him smile against you and can’t contain yourself from smiling too, lightly giggling into his mouth. You continue this dance for some time. Kissing, flipping, marking each others necks with bruises. You’re sucking a generous hickey into the right side of his neck when he suddenly grabs your wrist and tugs you behind him, walking towards the shallow exit of the pool. “We’re going upstairs.”

You gladly follow, towel completely forgotten as he drags you to the elevator. The doors are barely open when he pushes you inside, pressing you against the mirror and hitting the button for the top floor without separating from your lips. You’re both dripping all over the floor but you don’t even slightly find the space to care. You kiss until the doors open and then he’s dragging you again, moving with purpose. Your door is at the end of the hall, and it’s never felt so long to get there. You can’t wait to escape inside so you can appreciate more than just his lips.

Once you reach the apartment, you find yourself being led to a room you’ve never fully entered. HIS room. Sure you’ve stood in the entry way, but he’s never invited you to come in. To see his bathroom. To sit on his bed. You would like to admire it, but now isn’t the time because he is, again, pressing you into the wall with burning hands, sliding down your wet body. He grips your wrists and pins them in a crossed position above your head. You press the back of your head into the hard surface behind you and press your breasts forward, arching into him.

He leans into your ear, voice raspy as he teases, “I’ve had two years to think about what I’m going to do to you.”

He moves quickly. Aggressively. You don’t even have a second to breathe before he’s on his knees, ripping your bottoms down to your ankles. It all happens in one fluid motion, and you gasp at the cool air suddenly surprising your sex. His mouth warms you, tongue licking a long stripe up your core and you really moan this time. completely weak. Your hands are still above your head, briefly frozen in silent command. He lifts one leg over his shoulder, opening your cunt more to him, and you allow your hands to fall, bracing yourself against him to keep from falling over.

“fuck Jihoon” you gasp, looking down at the way he is worshiping you, “feels so good.” you mumble, vision already turning hazy.

His tongue works you like you belong to him. strong, hard licks mixed with quick, stiff entrances into your hole. You reach down to rub your clit but he pushes your hand away, replacing it with his own. He rubs in small circles and uses the other hand to plunge his middle finger into your entrance. You jerk in pleasure and curl your toes. The only thing you can focus on is keeping that one leg up on his shoulder, trying to maintain your composure enough to stand. Your remaining knee feels weak as he plunges a second finger in, never slowing the pace with his mouth. He sucks on your sensitive nub and scissors his fingers, effectively stretching you out for what was inevitably coming soon. He continues gliding in and out, smiling against your folds. his nose rubs that sensitive spot and you moan again and again, gripping his hair.

“So fucking wet, baby” he sighs, warm breath sending chills through your pelvis. You’re practically riding his fingers now, humping into his hand.

“All for you” you whine, grinding harder, faster.

“So needy too.” he answers watching the way you desperately move, body begging for the friction you need.

In one swift motion, he removes his fingers, a teasing smile as your hips chase after him. You grunt in frustration.

You’re not upset for long because he rests them on your thigh and picks up your remaining leg with his other arm, resting it on his other shoulder. He stands up and presses you into the wall, shoving his mouth back into your cunt with renewed intensity. You gasp, arm reaching out for something to grab onto. You settle for the corner of the open doorway, grasping the door frame like your life depends on it. Your other hand is in his hair again.

“Oh my god”

he laughs and continues, fully aware (probably from his friends) that you have a strength kink. You pussy is fluttering, clenching around nothing as he licks hard circles on your clitoris. You peer down with a perfect view of his lips and tongue working you up and down, in a figure eight pattern. He’s testing you, figuring out what feels best, noting your reactions and pleasing you perfectly. You can see his arm muscles tensing as he holds you up, veins prominent and sizable. He moans..no-groans into your core, speeding up even faster. flicking his tongue with speed and precision, hitting your clit again, again, again. The heat pools in your belly and you break, almost seeing stars. “Oh my god. fuck. right there. yes. fuck. I’m close.” Clitoral stimulation has always been a sure way to have you falling apart in minutes, and Jihoon..god he’s good at it. You’re a whimpering mess. You come completely undone with a final flick of his tongue and your moans sound absolutely pornographic. A string of curse words escape your lips and your legs are shaking, threatening to suffocate him. He laps up your juices like a parched man in the desert, proud of himself for pulling those sounds from you.

You assumed he would set you down after your climax, but those ’two years of plans’ thought otherwise. You’re still leaning against the wall, legs spread on each shoulder, cunt pinned against his face. He shifts his hands, which are gripping your ass, slightly so he’s holding even more of your weight. You squeal as he pulls you off of the wall and carries you to his bed, still licking your cum, and dropping you softly on your back.

“Oh my god” you repeat again, dazed. You’re still sensitive to Jihoon’s mouth against your pussy and prop yourself up on an elbow to shove his head away. He doesn’t move though, rather he sucks on your nub again and moves to continue rubbing you with his hand.

“No, i’m too sensitive” you try to shove his head again, half heartedly.

“I want you to squirt” he moans, pushing three fingers back into you, sliding them against your spongy walls. Curling against your G-Spot with perfect accuracy. “Come on baby, give me one more. You can do it.”

You moan, dropping flat on your back, legs opening wider, giving into his desires. His free hand glides up your abdomen, grabbing your breast. You move to untie the sliver of fabric around your neck so you can remove the top, leaving your skin bare to him. His fingers pinch at your nipple, other hand still destroying your cunt. Already feeling another orgasm bubbling up inside, you grip the sheets with white knuckles.

“I still want your dick” you cry, hips grinding into the air against your will. “Want to feel your cock splitting me in half.”

“I love it when you talk dirty” he gasps, speeding up his fingers with a filthy squelching noise. “Do you hear that? Do you hear how fucking soaked you are?”

“Gonna give you what you want” you groan, hips chasing after him, desperately chasing another release. “Gonna squirt because you make me feel so good..fuck”

“Yeah you are” he orders, “You’re gonna come again, and again, all night” he leans in again, blowing heat onto your core. “You’re gonna come for every time you texted me thirst traps” your cheeks flush more (if that’s even possible). “For every time you wore those slutty little clothes on purpose to rile me up” your skin feels like it’s on fire, burning with intense lust and craving, “You’re gonna squirt for me so hard, so intense, that my name will be imprinted on your brain forever.”

You choke on a sob, tears leaking out of your eyes. “I’m gonna come so hard for you Hoonie”

“I’m gonna fuck you so good that you’ll never want another man” he pushes, “Gonna have you begging for more.”

His voice, the filthy images he’s painting, his fingers, his lips, his tongue, his hand on your nipple, it all snaps together like pieces of a puzzle and you burst. Pure euphoria taking over until you’re squirting all over, in his mouth down his arms, all over his bed. You’ve never squirted so hard in your life. Your body is practically jerking at the waves of pleasure and he rubs your clit, riding you through the sensation.

You collapse, hands finally uncurling from the sheets, knees falling to the side. Jihoon crawls up the bed until he’s laying beside you. He brushes a peice of your wet hair out of your fucked out face and kisses your left temple, followed by your right.

“You did so good” he whispers, reaching to hold your hand. It’s a sweet motion following such a crazed build up.

You allow yourself a few seconds to breathe, eyes falling closed, taking it all in, and then you gather your courage and open them, turning to face him.

“Jihoon”

“Hmm?” He hums, looking at you with shining eyes.

“I’ve wanted you for two years.”

“I know” he replies, “that was obvious to everyone within a 30 mile radius.”

“No I mean i’ve wanted YOU. Like I wanted to fuck you at first, and I slept with other guys to forget about it but I genuinely like you. I want to make love to you and kiss you and be exclusively YOUR girl. and it’s not a game anymore. You’re not some challenge or some joke. I want to do cute shit and date the hell out of you.”

He smiles. He smiles bigger than you’ve ever seen him smile, and he hugs you. He grabs both cheeks with his big, pretty hands and kisses you. Passionately and deeply. He rolls on top of you again and kisses your neck, your collarbone, the spot between your breasts. He plants his arms on either side of you and hovers just above your face.

“I want to date the hell out of you too.”

Now it’s your turn to smile, beaming from ear to ear. You lift up to capture him in another kiss, and you roll him over until you’re the one on top. The confession renewed all of your energy and you realize he still hasn’t been touched.

“In that case” you giggle, raising on your knees to properly straddle him. “As your girlfriend” you rub against his length, feeling it already hard and twitching beneath you. “I better make sure you’re properly satisfied.”

It’s his turn to jerk his hips, bucking them into the air where your body was. You slide down to his waistband, teasing it for a moment before sliding his shorts off. Your eyes are locked with his, purposely building the suspense. You can see his dick pop up in your periphery once the waistband has cleared it, but you keep looking at Jihoon. At his eyes. His pretty, quickly darkening, eyes. Teasing him. You still don’t look, but you grab his length with one hand, pumping once, twice, three times.

“You’re driving me crazy” he sighs, head bobbing on the mattress. “I feel like I’m dreaming.”

“Me too” you sigh, finally looking at the beautiful dick in front of you. Really…It’s beautiful. It’s long, and slender, and shining with precum. You can hardly contain yourself as you lick a long stripe along the underside, circling around the tip before sucking it into your mouth. If there’s one thing you’re good at. One thing you’re known for…It’s giving mind shattering head.

You don’t give him much warning before you’re hollowing out your cheeks and taking him into the back of your throat, swallowing around him. The feeling of your muscles contracting around him elicits a breathy moan. Just like the ones you heard through the door earlier. You sway your head slightly from side to side until you gag (you don’t have much of a gag reflex, so when you do gag, it’s a sure sign that you’re taking him deep). You’ll do anything to hear that moan again, to hear him falling apart under you.

You rub his balls with your hands while your head bobs up and down along his length, mouth salivating around his hardness. You release at the tip with a loud POP, and gasp for breath, pumping him quickly with your right hand. “Make that sound again” you beg, grinding your, again (?) needy cunt against whatever part of his leg you’re now straddling. He immediately notices your grinding and grabs your hips to stop the movement. “Oh so moaning turns you on, huh?” He questions, head tilting to the side. You lean over, breasts bouncing right in his line of vision. Still pumping his dick, albeit a bit slower now. “Your voice turns me on.” You move to put your mouth on him again and bob your head up and down, hands wrapping around the shaft where you can’t reach, rubbing and twisting. You pull off again to spit on him, and he does as you asked, sighing a muffled “shit.”

Your hands pump him again. “I love it when you moan.” you speed up and increase the pressure, proving your point by pushing another marvelously loud one from his lips. “I love it when you say obscene things.” more pumping “and when you promise me smutty things.” your core is wet again, and Jihoon feels it against his skin where you’re grinding almost involuntarily against him. “I want you to tell me how sexy I am.” you lick around the tip again and shove his dick all the way down your throat, again, gagging. he jerks his hips upward and you hollow out your cheeks again, pulling at his hips to signal that you want him to fuck into your mouth. He seems timid at first, like he’s trying to control himself, but you want him to use you right now. You tap at his hips again and he gets the message, bucking up with more force. He plants his feet flat on the mattress and rests a hand on your head, pushing up, up, up. His breaths are jagged and you clench around nothing when he says “fuck, i’m so lucky.” He snaps his hips again, again, again until he pulls out with a muffled “wait, wait, wait.” You use the moment to catch your breath and look at his face again, his mouth hanging open as he catches his own breath too.

“I’m not ready to finish yet” he says, running a hand through his hair. I don’t want to stop here. He looks at you, a silent plea for more. for something, further.

“I thought you’d never ask” you smile, sitting up and moving so you’re not straddling him anymore. You prop up a pillow by the headboard and lean backwards, opening yourself up to him. “I’m pretty sure I remember you promising that I’d cum all night?” you tease, biting your bottom lip. His gaze turns almost feral as he sits up, and you really admire his chest. The beads of sweat and chlorinated water mixing together in a shine under his lamplit room. He moves towards you swiftly, like an animal and slots himself right where you want him. He rubs his cock against your pussy lips, covering it in your arousal. His lips meet yours in another kiss, tasting himself on your mouth, yet continuing anyway. His tongue dips inside, meeting with yours.

You gasp in surprise when he thrusts into you all at once, balls slapping against you as he bottoms out. You’re still so wet that your arousal provides enough lubrication. The stretch feels so good, but you don’t need time to adjust. “so full” you moan “you can move.”

“taking me so well” he grunts, pulling almost fully out before thrusting in again.

“ugh” you gasp, breasts bouncing in time with his pushes, “so good. so fucking good.” you enunciate “fucking” and his cock twitches inside you. He’s gripping your hips like a lifeline and leans forward to suck on your neck. At least he tries to suck on your neck. Really he’s just panting and breathing hard right into your ear, it’s everything for you. The feeling of his breath has you arching your back. His right hand leaves your hip to find your own hand, linking your fingers together out to the side. He’s pinning your hand into the mattress as his left hand holds up the majority of his weight. He glides into you at a vigorous pace, and you know you don’t have long. “harder. faster. more.” you find yourself begging.

He is happy to oblige, flipping you over on all fours, and pushing you down until you’re arching into the mattress, weight on your elbows. He plunges into you from behind, hitting a spot you’re not sure anyone has really hit before. he reaches around you, hand circling your clit as he pounds into you, hips snapping with athleticism and strength. Your legs are shaking harder now, and you’re sure you’ll collapse at any moment. his hand is circling harder, and you know he’s close too.

“where do you want it” he pants, gripping your hips again.

“Inside. Please” you gasp, rutting back into him, chasing that final high like an animal.

“Okay” he answers, pulling you up until your back is flat against his chest. you’re bouncing on his dick with fervor when you feel him release, long strings of sticky white painting your walls. He keeps circling you, working you through your own orgasm that hit at the same exact moment. You release your head back, laying against his shoulder, grasping at your breasts for some semblance of reality. Walls clenching around him, milking him dry. You look down to see a white ring around his dick, plugging up your entrance. You smile at the intimate position before you both collapse forward, his dick sliding out of you in the process. You’re panting together, chests rising and falling as your vision slowly returns to normal.

You lay there for a few minutes, wrapped up in each others arms, the only sounds coming from the fan in the corner. You eventually shiver and he feels it, pulling you in closer against his chest.

“I can’t believe you’re real” he mumbles, resting his chin on your shoulder. “I can’t believe you’re real and I can’t believe you’re mine.”

“you softly kiss the back of his hand before resting yours on top of his. “I could have been yours a lot sooner, you know.”

“I know. I was dumb. I’m sorry.”

“you twist in his arms until you’re facing each other.

“do you accept this mind blowing sex as an apology?” He questions, eyebrows raised.

“Yes” you giggle, pecking him on the lips. “but you’ll have to apologize again if you don’t come take a shower with me right now.” you shiver again, now realizing that you never dried off from the pool.

“Yes ma’am” he says, lifting your body up with his. Stay here, I’ll get it ready.

You cross your legs and lean back on your arms, smiling as he retreats into his en suite bathroom. You hear him humming to himself as he turns the water on, and wait until he comes back to get you. He picks you up in a bear hug and you wrap your legs around him koala style as he walks you to the shower, only setting you down once you were being wrapped in the warm droplets of steam. He washes you off, paying special attention to his favorite spots, eliciting giggles from you here and there. He washes your hair and tickles your back with soft passes of his fingers. He half hums/ half sings to you, and you lean against him, eyes heavy with pure bliss.

You’re not sure how long you stayed there, hugging each other under the warmth of the water, but eventually the temperature felt lukewarm, and you decided to get out. He wrapped you in a towel first, helping dry your hair before drying himself and wrapping one around his waist. He changed into a grey pair of sweat pants and (like a little gift to you, no shirt). before grabbing the sheets and announcing that you should go change while he throws them in the washing machine. You padded across the apartment to your room, applying lotion to your legs before slipping on your own pear of sweats. You didn’t get the chance to put on a shirt before he entered carrying one of his own. You raised your arms for him as he slid it over your head and you smiled at the fact that he wanted to share. The cotton was soft and you were on cloud 9 as you both slipped into your bed together, turning off the lamp and cuddling. He was on his back and you on your side, curled into him with a leg wrapped across his. You whispered sweet nothings into each others ears, giggling like teenagers until you drifted off into a sweet slumber. The last thing you heard before falling into sleep was a distant “I love you.”

and you just might have mumbled it back.

---

[ari-freeworld]

'*•♡Finding Space In Your Heart ♡•*'

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01 - Unexpected offers

Pairing - Biker/Roommate!Bakugou x Fem!Reader

An - After debating whether or not to post this, I decided to just go for it! I’m excited to share my very first published fic with you all. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it, let me know what you think! XO

Summary - After Kirishima moves in with his girlfriend, Mina, Bakugou finds himself in need of a new roommate. He’s on the hunt for someone who can tolerate his loud (and expensive) Ducati, his odd hours at the mechanic shop, and who is fairly tidy and able to pay their share of the rent. After having no luck finding the right person, his long-time friends Mina and Kirishima suggest an old friend of Mina's—enter you, a young professional writer looking for a place to live during your partnership with a publishing company.

Notes/warnings - Qurikless AU, aged up characters, drinking and smoking mentioned. Inappropriate language (its bkg duh) Slow build up (eventual smut).

wrds - 1.9k

02 , 03

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"Hello, earth to y/n!" A hand waved over your face, pulling you from your trance.

"Sorry, Mina," you said, stirring your milkshake with your straw.

You were sitting in Mina's local diner, catching up and drinking milkshakes—a monthly ritual you both had kept since your teen years. However, this particular meeting had been long overdue since Mina and her boyfriend, Kirishima, had been busy these last few months with their big move.

"What's bugging you?" Mina asked. Your friendship with her was a strong one, now going on eight years since you met in a softball little league at the age of fifteen. Ever since then, she had been your rock and you hers.

You didn't want to dampen the mood with your issues, especially when you were supposed to be celebrating her move. However, your current situation had you stressed for a couple of weeks now.

You had received astonishing news a few weeks ago: an offer from a publishing company you'd been dreaming of working with for a while. They would love to work with you on your book. It was the perfect opportunity, but life had thrown you a curveball. The company expected you to relocate within the next month, or they would reselect someone who could. All the places you’d looked at were way over your budget, and you didn't want to depend on your parents right after moving out from their place.

You sighed, "I've been having trouble with the new job."

"What!? Did they decide they didn't want you anymore? Those pricks!" Mina slammed her milkshake on the table, shooting a couple of drops of whipped cream onto her lap.

"No, no, it isn't that," you sighed again. "It's just that they want me to move closer to the site, and I'm getting nervous because I can't find a place yet."

"Well, why don't you stay with me and Kiri? We wouldn't mind giving you the spare room for as long as you need." You could tell she was serious. Bless her heart.

"I literally could not do that. After all, you and Kiri have been waiting for the chance to move in together, and I don't want to ruin that for you."

"Why not? It would be fun! Plus, you wouldn’t be a bother."

"I appreciate the offer, Mina, but I don't want to intrude." Maybe you'll just have to make the three-hour drive there and back every day, you thought to yourself.

"Gosh, y/n, you're so stubborn. The offer will stand indefinitely." She's such a good friend; you couldn't possibly burden her and Kiri. More like you won't.

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"Fuck," Bakugou exhaled, wiping the grease and dirt off his hands with his white tank top.

"Hey, Bakugou! Are you closing up soon? It's late," Kiri entered from the semi-closed garage door after helping out their last customer for the day.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm just fucking replacing my bike's stupid-ass engine oil." Kiri could tell something was bothering Bakugou. He'd been trying to get it out of him all day. He hated seeing his friend this way: walking around with tense shoulders, snapping at people. He even drove away a customer this morning with his attitude.

"Dude, what's up with you today?" Kiri asked. "You've been... pissy."

Bakugou glared at Kiri, then sat on the stool by his raised bike. "I can't find a fucking roommate," he quietly admitted.

"Shit, man. I'm sorry about dumping the move on you." Kiri moved to lean on the large tool cabinet. "I could always help you pay for this month to help out."

"Don't be a dumbass." Bakugou ran his hand through his blonde locks, moving the parts stuck to his sweaty forehead from his face. "You're basically moved out; you would just be paying my rent for me."

Kirishima pondered for a moment, trying to think of some way to help his friend. Then suddenly, he remembered what Mina mentioned the other day.

"Wait! This is perfect. I just remembered!" Kiri stood up straight. "Mina's friend, y/n!"

"Who?" Bakugou asked, uninterested.

"You know y/n. I've spoken about her before. She's actually looking for a place but couldn't find any within her budget!"

"A girl?! I can't move in with some random chick!" Bakugou was surprised Kirishima would even suggest that.

"You have to meet her! She would be the perfect roommate for you. She's reserved and, from what Mina's said, a really good person!"

"Yeah, no fucking thanks." Bakugou got up to pack things up and close the shop.

Kirishima, on the other hand, did not care about what Bakugou said and proceeded to text his girlfriend, trying to come up with a plan to get them to meet.

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Later that evening, Kiri and Mina's plan was in full swing. You were getting ready to meet Mina and some of Kiri's friends at a downtown bar. Unbeknownst to you, this was no ordinary hangout—there was a secret agenda at play.

Now here you were, about to enter some random bar, planning to have a stress-free night filled with fun before returning to reality tomorrow.

As you opened the bar door, the smell of cigarettes, greasy food, and alcohol hit your nose. You weren't too big on partying or getting drunk; Mina, on the other hand, was a pure party animal through and through. You often found yourself tagging along on outings like these, so it wasn't going to be a peculiar evening—or so you thought.

"Y/n! Over here!" You saw Mina practically jumping out of her seat, waving to get your attention. Making your way over, you glanced at everyone else seated in the booth. Familiar faces you'd seen at past hangouts.

"Hey, guys!" You stood in front of the table, and seated from left to right were Sero, Denki, Kirishima, and, of course, Mina. It seemed like there was someone missing who had been seated between Denki and Kirishima. Mina's face was dusty with a pink hue; you guessed she had probably had a few drinks before your arrival.

"You're just in time. We just sent Bakugou to get the shots!" she mentioned, looking past you towards the bar.

Bakugou. You felt like you remembered Kirishima mentioning him before.

"Here are your fucking drinks, assholes," you heard a deep, slightly raspy voice speak from behind you.

You turned and immediately faced someone's chest, holding a small tray of filled shot glasses and lime slices. Glancing up, you saw a man standing at a good six feet and three or four inches. His attention was focused on his friends, but he glanced down at you, and your eyes met.

Getting a better look at him, you noticed his very stocky build and his beautiful features. His eyes were a shade of red—not like blood, but the color you see during a sunset. His hair was blond and spiky but looked soft to the touch. You snuck a quick glance at his lips, which were soft and plump.

Bakugou's eyes had been latched onto yours since he faced you. Such a pretty, delicate face, he thought. His eyes ran up and down your body but quickly returned to Kirishima once he realized who you were.

"Are you fucking kidding me, Shitty Hair?" Bakugou's voice was loud but not louder than the music filling the bar. You glanced back at Mina, confused, and she gave you a cheeky smile.

Some hours later, after drinking with your friends, you found yourself sitting right next to Bakugou, practically on his lap due to the overstuffed booth. Mina took the time to explain that he was searching for a roommate and, since you were having trouble, you could move in with him instead of on your own. Hence, the orchestrated meeting.

You noticed his cedarwood smell, almost overwhelming your senses. You picked up on smaller notes of leather and coconut. The silence between you was a little awkward now that you both understood the situation. Your friends were having their own drunken conversations, but Mina was secretly peeping glances at you, hoping you and Bakugou would help each other out.

"I'm sorry Mina put you up to this. I didn't know," you decided to break the silence, speaking without facing him. If you turned, your faces would be inches apart. He side-eyed you, sitting with his body slightly leaned on the cushion of the shared booth. He scoffed.

"S'not your fuckin' fault. They put you up to this," his words sounded harsh, but his delivery was rather soft. From what Mina said about him before, he sounded like an overly aggressive guy.

"So, you're looking for a roommate?"

"Yeah, Shitty Hair decided to move out and in with Pinky," you chuckled at his nicknames for them.

"Yeah, no wonder that area is hard to afford on your own," you sighed, crossing your arms on the table.

"You looking for a place?"

"Kinda? I don't know. I got this job offer, but I don't think I can accept it if I don't find a place I can afford soon." You sounded worried, hoping it wasn't detectable in your voice.

"Hm," he gave a sound of acknowledgment. He watched you stand, his eyes running down your body again, this time much slower, drinking in your curves. He had been watching you all night, more like observing. Yes, he found you pretty, but meeting you was interesting to him. He didn’t know if it was because he hadn't felt a woman’s warmth for a year now and was craving it, or if he just liked the way you laughed with your friends and the way the dim lights made your skin glow.

"I'll be back," you said, the drinking giving you a buzz, and you couldn't stop yourself from overthinking again. Getting up from your seat, you squeezed past Bakugou, Denki, and Sero, heading to the door. You needed air.

Letting the nightly breeze hit your face, you pulled out your phone, thinking about calling your mom to vent your troubles. She and your dad had been away visiting family, letting you have the place to yourself. You couldn't bring yourself to tell them about the job before they left because you knew they would offer to pay for your place instantly, which was the last thing you wanted. So you settled for the cigarette in your purse that Sero had handed you earlier.

Lighting it, you inhaled and exhaled, hating the taste but finding it brought some comfort, like your worries were drifting away with the smoke.

"Disgusting habit," someone spit out. You turned to face them, instantly putting it out.

"Oh, I know. I don't smoke often, but this night called for one," you faced Bakugou, now out of the cramped bar. His figure stood a little taller and more comfortable. He walked up beside you, his scent hitting a little harder as the breeze carried it right to your nose. His clothes were black and casual, but you couldn't help but notice the tightness of his t-shirt.

Man, am I buzzed, you thought to yourself.

The silence now that you were alone was comforting. "If it's beating you up that fucking badly, I wouldn't mind," he said. You snapped your head towards him quickly.

"It would help both of us out," he continued. "You'd be saving me the trouble of finding some asshole roommate."

"Really...?" you searched his eyes for an answer. "You wouldn't mind?"

"How 'bout this: come look at the place with me now," he leaned close, his body looming above you. "And you let me know, princess."

Bakugou thought to himself, maybe he wouldn’t mind having a girl for a roommate. Regardless, he knew he certainly wouldn’t mind having you as one.

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Hope you enjoyed! Planning on releasing more parts soon <3

Btw lmk if you want to be added to the tag list :)

[ashprince-of-bel-air]

The Empress

Next chapter

The afternoon was like any other in Rome, the languid breeze brushing through the city, providing no respite for its inhabitants. In the palace, high on the white marble steps sat two brothers in their thrones, the Emperors of Rome. Caracalla and Geta were not particularly favoured amongst the public, their wrath and cruelty was well known, even amongst the senators who most people assumed would be untouchable. No, they exercised their right to show their power without consequence and they did it well.

There was no love lost between the brothers, both had resented each other’s existence, cursing the other for the simple fact that the throne was now shared between them. Geta in particular hated this, he was the older of the two and felt that he deserved the throne for himself. Besides, Caracalla was immature with his rage, Geta thought. His rage was born out of a childish need to get his own way or to try and prove that he had any semblance of authority, not Geta’s rage though, Geta revelled in his own wrath, he knew his anger caused fear in the senate and he enjoyed knowing that he had that sort of emotional power to him, a power that he would often take advantage of, throwing the odd plate or vase in council meetings to scare the generals and senators in attendance.

Months had passed with Geta sharing his role as Emperor with his brother, it was a situation that was now becoming tiring to him to say the least. He could only think of two ways that would hopefully move the public towards favouring his authority as the sole Emperor. The first option would be to have Caracalla killed, this would definitely cement his claim to the thrown, but fratricide was heavily frowned upon by the Gods, that option was potentially ruled out for now. The other scenario would be to acquire a wife, this situation did not fill him with much joy either, Geta enjoyed his whores as he could ruin them however he pleased, he would have to be gentle with a wife and softness was a weakness to him. Nonetheless, it was the best option he had.

Soon after Geta had decided it was time for him to take a wife the word spread throughout Rome, Geta’s mother was thrilled at the prospect that maybe her son was finally going to calm down and settle with a family, his eyes only rolled at this comment for how naive she was being. The high born houses of Rome heard this summons that the Emperor was seeking a wife of good stock and good breeding and invited them to present a daughter for him to take as wife, many houses declined the invite for fear of what he would do to their beautiful and pure daughters, the refusal of his request would boil Geta’s blood further until the day you accepted his invitation.

It was a warm and boring summers eve when your family heard the news that Geta was looking for a wife, you were draped across a lavish bench in your garden soaking up the sun on your porcelain skin, no matter how much time you spent in the sun you never seemed to be blessed with its gifts of colour. Your father approached and told you of the Emperors summons, you almost leapt out of your relaxed position, begging your father to let you attend the palace and have an audience with Emperor Geta, not one to deny his daughter a request, also hoping to gain the Emperors favour, your father accepted and responded to the invite saying you would attend the palace on the morrow.

Geta had always been a fascination to you, you had attended the gladiator games several times in the last few years, and you would watch him in his podium, that enchanting sneer across his face. His bloodlust and cruelty plagued your mind daily after you first caught sight of him, you are not sure why but his threatening aura and the way he had no regard for human life would stir something inside of you, his unhinged nature called to something inside of you and you desperately wanted to answer it.

Much to your surprise, you were the only one to attend the palace and stand before Geta as a potential bride, you felt his eyes burn into your visage, he was barely trying to hold his anger that your were the only one present as an offering, his anger aroused you, causing a wetness to pool between your thighs as you felt his scorn upon you, trying to ignore the feeling you stood up straight and focused on the here and now, you wanted to be chosen by him. It wasn’t that Geta was offended by your offering, he thought you were incredibly beautiful, and your ivory skin was captivating, the red gown you were dressed in, made him think of blood upon fresh snow which excited him more than he would care to admit. Geta gave a soft nod to one of his guards and they whisked you away to a private room adjoining his in the palace, you tried to turn back to see your father one last time only to see him smiling and bowing before Geta. This was it; you had been chosen as his wife. You now happily let the guards lead you away wherever they were told to take you.

The wedding took place not long after Geta accepted your offering, he had you dressed in crimson red again on the day, the contrast between your pale white skin and blood red cloth was just enrapturing to him, it made him think of how he wanted to sully that beautiful skin of yours, leaving his markings all over your body to make you know that you now belonged to him. Your wedding night came, and you felt yourself slightly disappointed, where was the angry Geta you had fantasised about? You wanted him to fuck you and choke you within an inch of your life, yet here he was snoring away drunk on too much wine, he attempted to grope at you, but he groped at the bedframe instead before falling asleep. No matter, you would get him to ruin you at some point.

Days and weeks passed by as you settled into the role of Empress, you did not have many responsibilities other than to provide Geta with an heir, something you had attempted very enthusiastically over the last few weeks. Most nights Geta would come into your chambers and ‘do his duty’ as was expected of him, these nights were alright, yet you preferred the nights he had been on the war council. He would return to your shared room throwing and shattering vases and glasses against the walls, it was in these nights he would take you roughly, biting and choking you, leaving his markings on your skin for all to see. Seeing Geta so unhinged and his anger at the surface aroused you immensely, those strong hands causing such devastation in your room made you bite your lip and wonder what they could do to you. This fact Geta had noticed after the third time he took you roughly and noticed you had orgasmed intensely, your walls gripping and pulsing around his cock unlike when he normally took you. Surely you didn’t like his wrath right? You were not as bloodthirsty and angry as him?

Geta wanted to test his theory of your arousal after you seemed far too excited when he choked you as he pounded deep into you one night, moaning his name as your arched your body towards him. This Is not what he was used to, and it confused him, why were you not like the others and whimpering before him? This version of you excited him and spurred him on to be rougher each time, and each time he made you cum even harder for him. Geta decided he wanted to take it further and see if your bloodlust really matched his own, to see how much you truly enjoyed his wrath. He would take you to the gladiator games tomorrow.

You were thrilled to be at the games again, the smell of sweat and blood in the air was like a sweet nectar to you, smiling as you took your rightful seat next to your husband. You could feel Caracalla’s hateful gaze upon you, but you did not wish to engage with him, it was not worth indulging the brat. Geta and yourself sit at the edge of the royal balcony, you looked the vison of the Gods Jupiter and Juno, regal and commanding. The crowd chanting your names as they had fully accepted Geta now he had a wife beside him.

The games began. The first one was of no consequence, you rolled your eyes at how little of a contest it was. The day waned on until it came to the main event, you had drunk your fill of wine to combat the hot air, and you now felt a soft buzz, excited for the match ahead. Geta could see the excitement in your eyes at the upcoming match and he smiled, you definitely loved this as much as he did, and he revelled in that knowledge for now. The match was an intense one, one that kept you at the edge of your seat, gripping the fabric of your dress in anxiety, you wanted it to be bloody and they were dancing around rather than showing any action!

Eventually the match ends with no bloody conclusion, you slump back into your chair disappointed, you watch uninterested as the winning gladiator gloats about besting the other one who is laid on the floor exhausted, your eyes roll until you feel a familiar breath on your neck. “Would you like me to kill him my love?” your heart pounds at his whisper and your clench your legs together feeling the hot breath on your neck, you compose yourself ever so slightly.

“My Emperor?” you questioned, a nickname that unbeknownst to you had such an effect on him, you always made him feel like he was in charge, and he loved It.

“Would you like me to spare the loser or let him live?” His lips whisper against your ear as he begins to play with a rouge strand of your hair, twirling it around his fingers and he starts to kiss your neck, eagerly awaiting your answer.

A small moan escapes your lips as his touch” …Kill him…” you sigh and nearly whimper as he lets you go, standing up ready to put his thumb down, signifying death. The signal happens and the loser is killed, Geta turns to look at you with a wicked smile on his face, your thighs now crushing against each other to bring you some relief from the tension building there.

Gods, looking at that beautiful sneer and the way he enjoyed commanding the death of the gladiator, you knew that you were in for a fantastic night with him tonight.

[sitp-recs]

hi liv!!! what are your favorite underrated 8th year fics? any hidden gems you'd recommend?

Hi anon, always! I was gonna start off by saying that I haven’t read 8th year much, but this list is evidence to the contrary so maybe I should stop saying that 😂 here are some recs for you, I’ll also highlight two personal favourites: Matched Set by astolat and Like Lightning at Your Fingertips by potterwatch, while not exactly underrated I don’t see them recced often enough. Enjoy!!!

Snug by @moonflower-rose (E, 6k)

Potter can't keep his hands off himself. Draco can't look away.

The Pensieve Project by curiouslyfic (T, 7k)

Of the 116 Hogwarts students who took part in the final battle, only five are officially invited to the Ministry's first annual memorial. For everyone else, there's the Pensieve Project.

Champion by @shealwaysreads (T, 7k)

Harry thought his Eighth Year would be simple and easy. And it sort of is, though not in the ways he expected.

What Country, Friends, Is This? by khalulu (M, 8k)

When Harry and Draco are paired up for a nebulous “capstone project” in 8th year, Draco suggests they use it as an opportunity to take a free Grand Tour of Europe. Harry isn’t interested in being grand, and they soon veer off the beaten path.

Good Company by Greenflares (T, 8k)

With Hermione and Ron always together, Harry's return to Hogwarts to complete his education isn't exactly fun. Somehow, it's his unlikely friendship with Malfoy that keeps him sane.

swallow your words by icarusinflight (E, 9k)

The truth is, not many things are known about the magic that is behind soulmarks. They'll turn up when they want and not before.

Heliomancy by Leela (E, 10k)

A teasing mirror that came from Grimmauld Place and the emphasis on inter-house relations during his eighth year at Hogwarts change everything for Harry.

warmest part of the winter by warmfoothills (T, 11k)

It’s not even a balcony, it’s just a window with a bit of a ledge, and Draco’s read Shakespeare anyway, he knows how this one ends.

Said and Unsaid (or, The Value of Knowing When to Stop Talking) by bryoneybrynn (T, 15k)

When the Interrogator asked if he had anything to say on his own behalf, Draco shook his head, his lips pressed tight in a thin line. There was nothing to say that wouldn’t sound like an excuse.

Find The Balance by lauren3210, Obliviate_Amores (M, 15k)

After Harry gives Draco his wand and goes back to using his own, they both start having trouble making them work. Finding out why is a lot simpler than fixing the problem.

Equally Cursed and Blessed by @moonflower-rose (E, 18k)

Harry's back at Hogwarts to attempt his final year, again. This time he's sure there'll be no shenanigans. Well. Maybe there'll be a few.

Edificabo by @doubleappled (E, 18k)

Numb and exhausted after the war, Harry returns to the only real home he’s ever known. Hogwarts needs help, too.

Silver Linings by @sorrybutblog (M, 21k)

Or: Harry's gone back for eighth year at Hogwarts and nothing is quite the same, save his inability to leave Draco alone. But then he finds that Draco isn't what he expected either, as they spend the month of December stuck in each other's orbit.

Colloquy by @dracoladon, @lazywonderlvnd (E, 30k)

Harry's not gay, Malfoy just smells good.

On Our Way by evils (E, 30k)

Draco is trying to spend the summer keeping his head down, but a repair project and a certain snowy owl have other plans for him.

All Things Go by @sorrybutblog (E, 32k)

Draco’s back at Hogwarts by court order. Harry’s back for no particular reason at all. Some things change, some stay the same. Neither expects to spend eighth-year living in close quarters, playing rugby (poorly), staying up late, sneaking around, and finally figuring it all out.

Eager for the Sky by @oknowkiss (M, 35k)

It was announced, just as the Triwizard Tournament had been, at the start of term feast. A year-long, international Quidditch varsity match — the inaugural Wizarding Academy Cup.

Inside Your Mind by @lazywonderlvnd (E, 36k)

Goyle's taken it upon himself to act as Malfoy's personal, one-man guard and Harry can't help but feel like it's only making the bullying worse.

Seeker, Chaser, Keeper by VivacissimoVoce (M, 59k)

Rumor has it that a wealthy investor is starting up a brand new professional Quidditch team and he’s looking for players. Harry and Draco both want to make the team, but there can be only one Seeker. Will competing for the position bring them closer or drive them further apart?

Inertia by @cavendishbutterfly (E, 83k)

It’s three months after the war. Harry has already mucked up all his plans. Draco is no longer the prince of Slytherin house. And they sure as hell didn’t both mean to go back to Hogwarts at the same time. Cue snarking, long conversations…and unexpected snogging.

Reparo by amalin (E, 85k)

Voldemort's final defeat does not mean Harry Potter's troubles are over; far from it. In the aftermath of war, he returns to a Hogwarts that is fractured and divided, but this is no break that can be fixed with a spell. New owls, fading scars, surprising alliances—and along the way, the hardest task of all, to live with it.

Bonus: Harry/Draco/Theo 😌

just call this what it is by queens_crown (M, 27k)

Upon returning to Hogwarts after the war, Harry can't sleep. He's not the only one.

[ivesambrose]

JUNE 2024 MINI MESSAGES 🌿💚

1. 2. 3.

Kept it short and sweet

To book a personal reading with me DM or email me at ivesambrose@gmail.com

Masterpost

Services Offered

Thank You for the tip! ✨

Picture 1

A substantial focus is on yourself, your physical body and your health. You'll be wanting to take life slowly. It is likely you've been feeling energetically depleted and feeling sleepy more than usual or being around or engaging with certain people or activities isn't making you feel as good. On a positive note, this will allow you to bring your attention and energy back to yourself which in turn will make you realize certain aspects of your health you may have overlooked. Y ou might be switching up or prioritising a skincare and wellness routine, opt for slower workouts or dancing, anything that makes you feel beautiful and good from within instead of amping up your stress or cortisol levels. Some of you might be quitting smoking or drinking this month too. You might also be focusing on holistic healthcare or healing yourself via the food you eat. You will be moving more, just you won't be in a hurry. Infact, there's no need to rush anything. let the money and love come to you as you stay open to receive. Your worldview might also change or you might end up influencing others via your perspectives. You might engage in creating something artsy, whatever that may be. The more you do things for yourself instead of catering to what's trending or what others keep demanding of you, the more you'll bloom.

Stay loyal to your goals, remain stubborn about them, no matter what. Also, try getting a haircut or new color sometime this month.

Picture 2

Just let it happen. You've been wanting that drastic change but you couldn't do that for yourself or you've tried to do it for yourself but you didn't know how so you just gave up. The emotions piled up regardless. So simply let this happen, it will, inevitably. It might be the most unexpected thing ever, it may not even be as smooth at first, you might as well be that gif of Rebel Wilson screaming, 'Enough!" Any form of upheaval you face this month even if it's a mental or emotional one, know that it's necessary to bring back order into your life. Chaos and order do go hand in hand, right?

By the end of this month you'l be feeling more powerful if anything. You're no one's charity case and you're certainly not meant to remain frozen in this particular mindset you've been carrying. It's keeping you stuck in ways that's doing you more harm than good. You'l also be able to weed out people who are a part of your life as pretense and only want to take from you. You'll also be able to see the ones who look over you rather silently. There's a gift of discernment and intuition you're being blessed with here. write down every idea or thought or dream as strange it might seem this month It doesn't matter how you're going to make it come true or how it connects to anything else, it will make sense later, perhaps by Virgo or Libra season?

Again, time isn't important. But your dominant thoughts, certainly are. Befriend your mind and don't look back.

Picture 3

You're loved and desired extensively and you don't even realize that. For most of you I'm seeing you romanticize your life in whatever way you see it, maybe even switching up things in your room or beautifying your surroundings nd yourself. You'll feel closer to your loved ones this month or just have a lot of gratitude towards them. Yes, even if you prefer being alone. The focus is on relationships and partnerships and being extremely choosy with the ones you associate yourself with. There are quite a few people who want to know you and get closer to you even pursue you romantically. A good month for your personal business and finances or even manifesting a creative or desired opportunity through the right people and the right time. Don't shy away from your own potential. Some of you might also be engaging in proper manifestion rituals or even praying for something big. A lot of you have truly, sincerely decided to lock in and that determination in itself ill get you what you seek. By the end of this month I see movement. Physical travel as well.

For some of you, there's this manifestion you consider 'big' again, it's something personal to you, it might be something small to someone else, but what matters is how important it is to you, it'll come through in Leo season mostly or for some during Sagittarius season. Either way, just know what you want, is already yours.

[megs-1800]

Co-Parenting

Note: Hope you are enjoying, requests are open if you want me to write anything in particular.

Summary: You and Mason are getting a divorce but are doing well with co-parenting your son Elijah. However, due to the divorce you are changing your name, how will Mason take it when you suggest to double barrel your sons name? Will he accept it?

Pairings: Mason Mount x Reader

Word Count: 2.2K

Warnings: Swearing, Angst and Fluff

You are the best father to Elijah, you always wanted children that was one of the first conversations we had when we first stated dating. So the day I saw those 2 blue lines on the pregnancy test I have never seen you so excited. We weren’t even trying and it came as a bit of a shock but still the baby was a blessing, and I knew you were going to be an incredible father. Even before I gave birth you were constantly looking out for the baby making sure I didn’t over exercise and I was eating right, the whole nursery was equipped by our 24 week scan, and that day when you found out we were having a boy you were over the moon. All you could think about was playing football with our future son in the garden. When Elijah was born you still claim this was one of the best days of your life, and I swear I saw a tear slipping down your face when you held him for the first time.

We were in an absolute baby bliss, well that was until Elijah was 3 months old. We were having a much needed family day chilling at home. This is when mine and Mason’s phones both went absolute mad. We panicked thinking something bad had happened and it was one of the family group chats. What I saw was even worse. It was links to the news article, claiming this women was having an affair with him for the past 6 months. You didn’t even try and deny it so I knew it was true. How could you he have done this to us? To our new family?  What was worse it started at the end of the pregnancy when I was emotional on how I looked due to the weight gain caused by the massive pregnancy bump but Mason always argued that I was the most beautiful women in the world. Now I know why he was so happy as he was getting it from the super model instead.

We tried to make it work for Elijah’s sake but the trust was gone and we were arguing all the time. It was too toxic for Elijah to be around so we agreed to split. Everyone was heart broken over it but we had to do what was best for our boy. We always were good at co-parenting though, no matter what happened between us we always acted like a happy family for his sake. The big word in that is we would “act” like a happy family.

Today was no different it was Elijah’s trial day at the new nursery. It was a time when parents and children could come to the nursery have a walk around and see if parent and child both like it. It was a private nursery, it was where all the footballers and anyone with a bit of status sends their child. Mason said it was recommended from a couple of guys from the team. I wanted to just send Elijah to a normal nursery, but Mason agreed to pay for it so who am I deprive my son of the best if his dad wants to offer it to him?

I agreed to meet Mason at the nursery with Elijah so we didn’t have to do that awkward car ride in silence. So me and Elijah drove there with the music blaring both of us singing away. When we arrived Mason was already standing at the entrance. Elijah ran to him “dadddddyyyyy” he shouted as he ran to Mason. “Hello Bud” Mason said as he picked him up and gave him the biggest cuddle. He gave me a small side cuddle and a polite kiss on the cheek. I tried to give him a small smile. Be civil for Elijah’s sake I keep saying in my head.

We walked in and went up to reception. “Hello we are here for Elijah Mount’s trail day” I say to the lady at the reception desk. She checked her records and smiles “Of course please this way” as she points to the doors in front of us. We walk through to the main hall and she bends down to Elijah’s hight. “Hello I am Mrs Right” and gives Elijah the biggest smile which he returns. She puts her hand out for a high five which he gives her and runs off to be with the other children to play. He was always such a confident child, I am so proud of his personality. “Please Mr Mount and Miss Y/L/N this way and you can speak to who would be Elijah’s teacher if you decide this school is suited for him”. Mason shoots me a look. Jheez if looks could kill that would be it. He turns to me and whispers “Y/L/N really? You are still a Mount the divorce hasn’t been finalised yet?!” He says with hurt and anger in his eyes. “Please Mason not know” I whisper back “It was pointless saying we were Mr and Mrs Mount on the application because by the time Elijah starts here I won’t be Mrs Mount anymore so it was just easier to give them Y/L/N”. Mason rolls his eye at this, why does he have to make such a big deal out of it? He was the one who decided to ruin our marriage he cannot be angry that I dropped his name it was his fault.

The next hour went well, Mason kept shooting me glares to remind me that he is pissed off but the school seemed amazing and Elijah seemed to love it. We were standing there watching Elijah play in the sandpit. I am now regretting him wearing his new Armani tracksuit that his Uncle Declan got him for his last birthday. I look at Mason and can see the happiness in his eyes watching his son. I had to ask him now, I know my solicitor said not to say anything until the divorce was finalised but I didn’t want to blind side him. Plus if I didn’t speak to him now I would chicken out for sure. “Mase can I speak to you about something?” Mason nods turning his head to you giving you his attention. “I want to change Elijah’s name” Mason looked at me confused and I could see that he wasn’t getting where I was coming from. I then continued “As I will no longer be a Mount I want to double barrel Elijah’s last name so he has both our names. It will be easier if I take him away of anything. Otherwise people are going to think I kidnapped Mason Mounts baby” I tried to make a joke so the conversation was more light hearted. Mason didn’t see it this way. He shot me daggers and replied “Absolutely fucking not” and stormed out of the hall. Fuck sake why does he needs to make such a scene.

Elijah seeing his dad storm out came running over to me “I am ready to go now mummy”. I agreed and gave him a reassurance smile. We said our goodbyes and thanked the staff for the kindness of showing us around and explained I would be in touch regarding his place. The school is amazing and Elijah seemed to love it, he is definitely attending. When we were outside I could see Mason looking down at the ground, I can see the anger in his eyes. His emotion quickly changes when Elijah hugs him and says his goodbye. He then gets in his Range Rover and speeds off, I hate when he drives like that. He better not drive like that when Elijah is in the car, at the same time I know he would never put his son in danger so I quickly delete that thought.

Mason and I usually talk quite frequently in the week about Elijah showing each other pictures or updating each other on what he has done that day. This week Mason has been radio silent. He hasn’t seen Elijah the last couple of days, and every time I send him a picture of Elijah he just hearted the messages and didn’t reply which was unusual. I know he was pissed about my name request. It is just a name what is his issue? Saturday morning came and Mason sent me a text message “Hey I didn’t know what you were doing today but thought you and Eli might want to come down to watch the game?” I thought about it and then I looked at Elijah he was so flued up bless him it wouldn’t be right to drag him out in the cold so I quickly replied. “Hey Mase, I am so sorry Elijah didn’t sleep well last night he only had a couple of hours he couldn’t stop coughing and sneezing bless him, he ended up sleeping in my bed. It wouldn’t be good for him to sit in the cold I am so sorry. But he wishes his daddy the best of luck even though he knows you don’t need it ;)xx”  I know Mase would of smiled at that text and he responded “No worries at all, hope he is okay. Give him a kiss for me :)xx”.

Luckily for us the game was on TV, I put the game on the TV ready for kick off and put Elijah in his Manchester United Shirt with ‘DADDY 7” on the back. It was about 30 mins before the start, I sat Elijah down on the floor in front of the TV and took a photo. It clearly showed his shirt. We usually post him on our socials but do not post his face, so a lot of pictures are of him wearing a football shirt. I quickly added this to our my storey and added the caption ‘Cheering on his daddy! Come on United!’ I tagged Mason in this so hoping he will see this before he goes out. Which I was right, Mason saw his phone buzz just as he was about to go out. He quickly checked and saw you tagged him in a storey when he saw what it is, his heart melted.

Mason had the best game he has had in a while, he got 2 assists and a goal which resulted in United winning 4-2. I was so proud. I quickly send him a text that read “Well done Mase you make us both so proud x”. I then started my evening routine getting Elijahs dinner ready.

I was continuing with our evening routine with washing up Elijah's dinner and cleaning up his toys whilst his bath was running and there was suddenly a knock at the door. I was confused as I was not expecting anyone. As I opened it I saw Mason there. “Hey” he said. “I just miss Eli is it okay if I get him ready for bed tonight?” This wasn’t an uncommon act, Elijah never stays over at Masons as we decided it would be best for him to settle in 1 bed, however Mason does often come round and get him ready for bed. Of course I agreed at let him in. Mason bathed Elijah and tucked him in. Talking about the game and reading Elijah stories, it wasn’t long until Elijah was out for the night.

Mason comes walking back into the living room where you are chilling out, “Thank you for doing that, its nice it gives me a break for 5 mins”. Mason nods and smiles at that. He loves being apart of Elijah’s life. Mason keeps looking at me. “Okay” he says. I am confused “Okay to what?” I ask I have no idea what he is talking about. “Okay you can change his name.. I give you my consent” I smile thank god he is not going to fight me on this. “On one condition” There it is.. please don’t be a something silly that is going to make the situation worse I am begging in my head. “I want Mount to be first” he continues “Elijah Mason Mount-Y/L/N” he says. I smile “that’s amazing of course thank you”. I run to him and hug him. I didn’t even realise how long we were hugging for, I could feel his hands deep in my hair holding me tight. I am nestled into his neck, I smell his aftershave. Elijah running in broke us from that moment. “Why are you crying mummy?” He asked in concern. I didn’t even realise I was. I quickly wiped away my tears. “Mummy is just happy that’s all bubba now go back to sleep”. He quickly runs back his room. “Bye Bud I will see you tomorrow” Mason shouts “We will go kick the ball around in the garden”. Elijah stops in his bedroom door frame and nods to Mason and runs back into bed. “I will see you tomorrow Mase” I say to Mason giving him a nice smile. “I will see you tomorrow Y/N/N” pushing a strand of hair behind my ear. As he lets himself out I let a breathe out and I think my heart has now stopped beating so fast. Fuck he makes my heart melt. Why did he have to ruin it, we could have been the perfect family?!”

[coldlovehotblood]

TROUBLE

you had wanted something more for so long, and izzy toys with you until you hit breaking point.

w/c: 4,446

warnings: drug use, mild and brief smut (more details here)

a/n: i can’t decide if it happy with this or not… but pls enjoy!! (thank you violet for being so patient😭)

Chess is a game of strategy: one of calculated back and forth, back and forth. White then black, white then black. There is no mercy, and so you have to be smart if you want to get anywhere.

Similarly, you and your best friend had this peculiar back and forth, back and forth. White then black, white then black. A strategic to and fro you have yet to name that had begun to toe the line of danger.

The only difference between the two is how a game is started. For chess, it can be a rather formal affair, but for you and Izzy’s, all it took was one look to initiate play.

Call it bedroom eyes if you want, but that look created a wildfire of twisted pleasure that could only stop by burning until theres nothing left to burn. The fire would show it’s ferocity through depraved actions taken by each player. The white of neutral friendship darkens at the flip of a switch.

It was so much more than a look of seduction, it was an invitation to let yourself go entirely. It was an opportunity to let loose every carnal desire, every twisted need that spreads like mould over your conscience, any sick fantasy that's made you drip. You play this teasing psychological push and pull and its the most deliciously torturous thing you’d ever experienced. Who are you kidding, anything is delicious if its him.

You and Izzy had broken the boundary of ‘just friends’ long ago. There were too many feelings involved to call it ‘friends with benefits’ either, and no one wanted to question it, so the two of you had spent those last few months walking a tightrope called ‘The Game’.

Neither of you let on if it was causing emotional turmoil of any kind, but on one particular night, things changed.

You had attended one of the band's shows and were pressed right up to the edge of the stage. Of course, you had chosen the side you knew Izzy would be standing on. You had decided not to tell him you were coming, so when the lights brightened fully and you caught his eye, a great smile came over his face as he played.

You were enjoying yourself. You were enjoying watching him perform along with the others. He continuously looked over to you with that smile of his, and when he did, he’d strum his guitar a little harder, fall into the beat of the song a little further, and gradually he lost himself to the music. When he sang along with Axl, his voice was as sultry as always. You couldn't help how your cheeks reddened when you heard it.

Izzy had always belonged to the stage, it was where he was most in his element. He had always stuck out to you more that the rest, shone a little brighter while performing alongside his bandmates. You knew exactly why, but didn't dare say it out loud and often even to yourself, as you pushed the thought away by instinct at that point.

You watched him walk all over the stage like he owned it, because he did. The unit Guns and Roses took over every stage they stood upon and blessed it with their flash flood of talent. There was no way everyone else in the crowd wasn't falling over themselves for him.

Heartthrob piece of shit.

You watched him saunter and strut up and down the stage brazenly, knowing how it made him look.

That’s something you couldn’t stand about him: the fact his cockiness was absolutely justified. Who wouldn't be proud to show off their skills when they are that good? It was both infuriating and mesmerising. As much as you teased him for thinking he was so great, he genuinely was fucking brilliant. The way his hand slid over the fret bar, knowing exactly where to go without a second thought. The way his fingers plucked away with precise strength and speed. It was incredible to watch.

He looked over to you and saw you staring. He wasn't totally sure what it was that had you so gripped, but he came over and sat down right in front of you, high-fiving some lucky people on the way.

He had settled himself directly in front of you, legs hanging off the stage's edge. So close you could smell his cologne and watch each bead of sweat trail down his skin.

"What are you doing here?" you shouted over the crowds roars.

"What are you doing here?" he replied, "'cause I'm doing my job."

"Well I don't know who you are, but I must say, your playing is great."

"Just great? ‘S that all I'm getting from you, doll?"

Doll.

Your gut curled.

"Excuse me?"

"Got a problem, sweetheart?"

You wanted to scream 'you're no fair' right in his face with the whole crowd watching because he knew what he was doing, but all you could do was gaze at him with a slightly dazed expression as your cheeks heated up for the umpteenth time that night.

You looked right into his eyes, lips slightly parted, and blinked slowly.

A smug, knowing grin took over his face. One that only you would know the meaning of.

The game had started.

He hopped up and continued playing, and the rest of the show went as usual, but he was being a bit more adventurous. A bit more annoying. He had sat down on the other side of the stage and tucked another woman’s hair behind her ear, smiling all silly and knowing at her. He knew what buttons to press a bit too well. He knew you too well, too intimately. He knew what got you going and what pissed you off the most.

Once the show had been closed, you stormed through the venue to the dressing rooms. There was no resistance from security; they knew your face. As you went down each hallway, your anger bubbled more and more in your stomach where that curl was felt earlier.

Bursting into the dressing room, Axl laughed and punched Izzy’s shoulder.

“Ooo someones in trouble.”

“Mmh,” you hummed, not even looking his way, lasering on Izzy only.

You motioned for him to move.

“Get up.”

“No.”

“Yes. Up.”

“No, thank you.”

He was impossible. You walked out, slamming the door behind you.

The night hadn't even properly started yet and he already had you fired up, ready to punch a wall.

You had almost reached the end of the hall when you heard a door open and close behind you, and then he was there, grabbing your wrist, with the same smirk he’d had plastered over his face all night.

“Come, honey.”

You seethed at him.

“No. I can’t look at you.”

“I doubt that.”

He ever so gently guided you back down the hall. However much you hated him in the moment, you could never deny him. No matter how hard you tried. He brought you to another room, a separate dressing room, and locked the door, sitting you down on a couch pressed against the wall.

He sat beside you. You turned away.

“What’s wrong?”

“You know what the fuck is wrong, don't play dumb.”

“I wont lie to you, I'm on a great adrenaline high right now, so you're gonna have to be a bit more specific.”

You huffed, curling into the arm of the sofa, putting distance between the two of you.

“I thought you said we wouldn't bring others into this—” you paused, thinking of what to call it, “This thing we have.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“But we arent exclusive, right?”

You stopped playing with the hem of your skirt to look him dead in the eyes.

“You said you weren’t interested in a relationship, but said that no one could get in the way of us. Make your mind up.”

It was Izzy’s turn to pause.

“I guess I did, but just because I was flirting with someone else doesn't mean I want a relationship with them, or that I was breaking the rules.”

His eyes lit up with realisation when you glared at him.

“You’re jealous, arent you?”

You scoffed, “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Oh you so are.”

You got up from your seat and started pacing the room, looking at the floor to avoid seeing his smug face in any of the mirrors.

“I am not jealous.”

“I knew you could be, but this bad? Damn, if I had known it riled you up this much, I would've done it a lot sooner,” he said with a laugh, “And more often.”

“But that's just it. I don’t want you to. It pisses me off beyond belief to see you looking at anyone else with the eyes you look at me with.”

“But this is what we are, isn't it? We push and pull. It’s how we’ve always been.”

There was the truth, and it stung to hear it said out loud where you couldn't escape. Over the months this ‘game’ had spanned, you had toyed with the idea of something more serious with him. Something more significant. Because when the round had ended and the two of you were left with the afterglow, things felt so easy, and as if they could be normal. With the shape of your bodies resting against each other like jigsaw pieces, it felt like everything was in it’s rightful place. There was a warmth that settled in both of your stomachs and drew you closer, both physically and maybe metaphysically. And when your legs tangled and chests touched as gold started to seep through the curtains with daybreak, it was as if your souls had tethered.

But it was nothing serious. At least, that's what he kept saying. Even though, when shitfaced drunk, he said sweet things and kissed you softer than usual. Even though, when he was shot up on ridiculous amounts of heroin, he held you close and looked at you as if you hung the stars in the sky. Even though, when he tried to snort so much it clogged his nose, he always looked out for you and made sure you were alright and safe. With the amount of teasing his bandmates did, you'd think the two of you were together, but that was far from the truth, wasn't it?

It was in that moment you realised that push and pull had slowly bisected you without your knowlege, the halves so close to equal it was infuriating. It had split a ravine in you, leaving enough space for a nasty feeling to fester and feed on your emotional whiplash.

“What if I don’t want it to be push and pull, Izzy?” you hissed, “What if I wanted to be yours?”

He furrowed his eyebrows.

“Aren’t you?”

…Was he serious?

“You’re joking.”

“About what?”

“But you literally said you weren't looking for anything serious.”

You stormed over to the makeup table on the other side of the room and began tearing it apart in search of something to hide the fact tears were gathering in your lower lash line.

“Well yeah, but I never said I didn't want anything with you.”

You stopped your furious rifling through the drawers and looked at him behind you in the mirror.

You couldn't believe him as he sat there, one leg over the other, leaning as nonchalant as ever on the arm of the sofa as if he didnt just drop a bomb on you.

“You're unbelievably difficult, and it's fucking infuriating.”

“You love it.”

You leapt up from the makeup chair and stood over him, getting right up in his face, so close you could feel his steady breaths on your skin.

“You better be serious or I swear to God above, Jeffery, I will ruin your life.”

He looked straight into your blazing eyes with his own half-glassy gaze.

“I’m serious.”

You raised your brow, not sure if you should believe him in such a state- still letting the post-show adrenaline fizzle out at its own pace, still letting the screams of the crowd feed his ego by letting them echo in his head, but he reached up, held your cheek and repeated himself with more conviction. More finality.

“I’m fucking serious, ok?”

He leaned in and kissed you gently with such reverence and care. Every flame within you was snuffed.

“I swear im serious,” he whispered.

That’s all it took for you to lean in yourself and kiss him back. His lips were smooth and he tasted like sweet whiskey as your mouths moved together. He reached out to your hips and pulled you closer till you were sitting snug on his lap. The feeling of his solid body against yours made you feel a bit more firmly tied to your own. He centred you without trying. Your fingers played with the hair on the nape of his neck and he giggled into your lips before pulling away.

“Where’d you go, tiger, hm? What happened to that heat?”

“Why don’t you say my name for once, or have you forgotten it after collecting so many other sluts?”

You chased his lips but he pulled his head away, letting out a full laugh at your words, head tilting back to rest against the sofa. He said your name. It sounded good from him. He made it sound nicer than you thought it was. His low timbre shaped it into something beautiful for you. But your name or not, anything sounded beautiful from him.

“As if i could forget it. You’re my favourite one. You get special slut perks.”

“Ew, stop making me sound bad.”

“If you’re bad then what am I?”

“A man. Men are awful.”

“Very funny.”

This time he grabbed your hair and tugged you closer. The rougher kiss made you moan into his mouth, and to such a sound he let out a pleased one of his own.

“You act like ‘slut’ doesn't get you wet,” he teased.

“Because it doesn’t.”

He suddenly let go of your hip and slithered his hand up your thighs, under your skirt and straight to your core, where he gently touched over your clothed heat.

“These soaked panties beg to differ.”

“Shut up and kiss me.”

“No.”

“Please,” you forced out impatiently.

“Say it like you mean it.”

A huff escaped you.

“Please.”

He gave you a pointed look. This was him testing the waters, trying to figure out what exactly you needed from him. He knew there were times when you wanted to go slow and let time drip steady like treacle, and times when you wanted to go impossibly fast and rough, to the point where every touch left stinging skin. He knew you inside and out. back to front.

“Please, Izzy,” your voice edged on a whine. You looked at him, eyes wide and needy, body open and expecting.

He had you sussed. He leaned in and gave you what you wanted.

You didn't understand how the taste of jack daniels lingered in his mouth still as he kissed you deeper. It was one of the only constants of the man. Something you had come to associate with him. A fact so deeply ingrained into your mind that if you were in a bar and the sweet smell you knew so well hit your nose, you walked out. It was strange and maybe a bit insane how loyal you were to this man, but, as scary as it was to admit to even yourself, you were head over heels for the fucker and wanted nothing else.

Was it avoidance, or devotion?

He slid his hands over the swell of your ass and pushed up from under your skirt again, making it bunch at your waist. You groaned at the sensation of cold skin meeting yours. You started to grind into him a bit and he let out an appreciative noise in return before pulling away again, lifting your hips and putting you on one knee.

“Hold on, baby,” he said as you opened your mouth in protest. He quickly unzipped and unbuttoned his jeans and reached into his boxers. You assumed he was going for his half-hard dick with impatience, but much sooner than you expected, he retracted his hand with a small, clear bag in clutch. You rolled your eyes in response, feeling almost fond. Only he would be desperate enough to hide extra in his boxers, of all places. it was sad. But you were his, didn't he say?

“What’s that?” you ask, starting up a slow grind into his thigh again in an attempt to feed the heat boiling in your core.

“’S a speedball,” he muttered as he then tested each front pocket of his jeans to produce a dollar bill.

You stopped grinding to look at him with worry. A speedball was… The last thing you wanted to see him doing. The concoction was a catalyst that had sent too many people you knew into awful states and more often than not, lead them to quick deaths. It was dangerous, and you didn't like that he was just casually fishing this out of his jeans. He saw the look on your face and rolled his own eyes.

“What? it’s not even that much.”

He was right. There was only a little bit in the bag, but that didn't make it feel any safer. You didn't know what amount looked safe and you highly doubted he knew either.

“Where did you even get it?”

“Don't worry about it. Wanna split?” he held it between two fingers and gestured towards you, a sly smile settling on his face. You shook your head in response. His face fell a bit. “It should be safe enough. Sure you don't want a little bit? I'm here, I wouldn't let you go overboard.”

“I really don't think you should take it, Iz, speedballs aren't safe—”

“And coke or dope is? It’s all the same stuff, and look at the size of this fuckin’ thing. It’s nothing.”

Your face twisted up further in disagreement and his eyebrows furrowed.

“Fine then, I’ll have it. Forget I asked. C’mere,” he huffed and began lifting you again when you tensed.

“What? I'm not taking any—”

“I’m snorting off of your collar,” he pushed out, visibly becoming more irritated, grabbing your hips tighter “Now come here.”

“Izzy—”

“Just let me take this shit so it’s gone!” he forcefully lifted you to sit fully in his lap.

The sudden shift left you kind of shaken. You’d never seen him get so worked up over drugs, but then again, you had never stopped him from taking anything before. His habitual substance use should've bothered you more than it did, but you were just as bad, normally joining in, which was why he offered in the first place, but knowing he was going to take something you knew was so dangerous set you on edge and made every nerve in your body spark a little bit. Enough to get through the thickening fog of lust. You just hated the fact you cared so much about someone who cared so little.

He began roughly pushing your leather jacket off your shoulders and threw it across the room.

“Why are you being so difficult, baby? This could be so easy,” he whispered harshly into one ear as his hands reached for the hem of your white shirt to push it up your torso. You helped him by pulling it the rest of the way, and his face fell into gorgeous content once again. You decided then that he’d be fine. This was just a one-off of him trying out a different kind of high; a trial to see how a different kind of punch settles.

He made his usual path up and down your body. Admiring the way your lace bra adorned your chest, admiring the way your tits fell out of it when he unclipped it hastily, breaking a few of the clasps in the process. He sucked a harsh bruise into the crook of your neck and brought his hands beneath your thighs to lift you as he stood up, turning and depositing you onto the sofa again and pushing you, softer than expected, by your shoulders to lie down.

He was a sight for sore eyes normally, but from beneath him, where the sparse light from one of the Hollywood mirrors haloed him and obscured his face slightly, he made your heart race.

He loomed over you as he opened the little bag and tapped most of its contents into the dip of your collar bone. You barely felt the powder as it fell onto your skin. Izzy had this glint in his eye as he straightened out a line. A dangerous one that made your stomach tighten a bit. Maybe this wasn't a good idea, but had it in front of him now.

Once he’d rolled up the bill, you watched him lean down, eyes locked onto yours as he brought the self made tooter to his nose before his head dipped and he inhaled sharply. The bill tickled your skin as he moved it. He sat up and threw his head back with a breathy groan.

“Finally,” Izzy whispered.

You weren't happy, but you couldn't stay mad at the sight before you.

His finger traced where the line had been and he tapped your jaw with his other hand.

“Open.”

“I told you I'm not-”

“Open that fucking mouth,” he spat, hand now clamping either side of your face, squishing your cheeks to part your lips. He shoved the finger he’d brought along your collar under your top lip and dragged it along your gums. You nipped his finger with your teeth as you tried to shake your head free. He retracted his finger with a hiss, let go of your face and slapped you.

Hard.

“I’m being nice and cleaning up. Let me be nice and we’ll have a good time.”

“Are you deaf or something?!” you cried.

“No, and neither are you, last time I checked. Listen to me next time.”

He rolled his eyes and moved down your body again, this time taking off your lace underwear.

“You’re being an ass, Izzy.”

“Okay?”

His attitude to this whole thing was confusing.

And scary.

Sure, you were often rough with each other. Sure, you and him took drugs together all the time. The difference was that all of it had been loosely agreed. This sudden introduction to a new drug had put you on edge. This was too new, and he was being so careless.

He moved between your thighs and pushed your legs up a bit, putting you on full display for him.

“You’re going to listen to me this time, and listen well,” he spoke, looking at you sternly, “I’m going to eat you out and you’re going to be quiet.”

You nodded meekly.

His head dipped towards your dripping heat.

Knock, knock, knock.

Izzy tensed up immediately. You felt him begin to pant from between your legs as a muffled voice came from outside.

“Izzy? You there? We gotta go, man. They won’t let us stay here any longer cause they say we’ll do shit… Or something… I don’t get the fuss but we gotta take our shit and go.”

You recognised the voice as Slash, but Izzy seemed to not, looking at the closed door with wide eyes. The knocks now turned into bangs.

“Are you here or not? We’ve looked everywhere-“

“He’s here!” you called innocently, “just give us a sec-“ you were cut off by a hand coming over your mouth. Izzy scrambled over you and reached for his back pocket, pulling out a switchblade. He retracted the blade and held it in front of him, looking extremely unsure. You could see the quick rise and fall of his chest above you.

“No way you guys are fucking in this dump- Hurry up!” Slash shouted.

The sound of footsteps faded but Izzy still stared at the door, back taut like a bowstring, hand holding the switchblade shaking slightly. You very carefully moved his hand off of your mouth and said his name softly.

His head snapped towards you and he harshly whispered, “Shut the fuck up! They’re going to hear you.”

“That was Slash, baby.”

“No, it wasn’t. Don’t you dare fucking lie to me right now.”

You reached up to touch his face, and he flinched as your hand met his clammy forehead.

“It was. It’s okay. Calm down.”

You guessed it must have been given just cocaine in the little bag, not a speedball per his request. His paranoia only came on so strong when coke was in his system.

He leaned into your touch and sagged a bit, tears forming.

“It was them, I know it was.”

“It wasn’t. I promise,” you said gently as you sat up and pulled him close to your bare chest, “It’s just me and you.”

His hands dropped to his sides and he just let you hold him for a bit as he twitched. He got like this when he got scared.

You had to pick up his pieces once again.

You’d do it as many times as you had to.

You guided him to sit properly on the couch and you got up, looking for your clothes and dressing again. As you looked over at him once more, you realised that this couldn’t go on. Both the stupid game and his drug habits.

You shook yourself out after hastily tucking your shirt into your skirt, feeling that strange blurred alertness that came with coke yourself.

As you guided him out of the dressing room to the waiting group, holding his sweaty hand tight, you decided that you would have a serious talk with him about this.

About you both.

Because he was in trouble, and, in turn, so were you.

[graciereadshannigram]

hey fam, welcome to the November round up of all my favorite fics i read this month!!

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

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

you can find past recs below:

February March April May June July August September October

you can now also find ALL of the five star fics in my 5 Star Hannigram Fics collection on ao3 :))))

and if you have any recs of your own for me, PLEASE SHARE.

without further ado, and in no particular order, let's go!

~

WET by agarina_amigara

Word Count: 5652 Summary: the prompt for day 5 of fcktober: "wet"Post-Fall. The water filtration on the boat sailing Hannibal and Will to freedom sucks ass. Thankfully Will is good with his hands. So is Hannibal.

i desperately need more 'Will being good at fixing boats' fics lolol this was so good!!

Only One Night? by onmywayhome

Word Count: 3203 Summary: It had been 20 minutes of him laying down with his eyes closed, still awake. The only thing that caused his eyes to open was the feeling of his psychiatrist wrapping his arm around his stomach. He pulled Will in closer, Will could hear the faint noise of snoring, ‘Is he asleep?’ he thought to himself, he suddenly felt something poking his backside as Hannibal pushed closer. ‘Oh.’-OR-Hannibal and Will have to share 1 hotel room (and 1 bed ;)) which brings out some intense feelings in both of them

oooooooooookay, i saw the "only one bed" tag and blacked out, love love love love. (it's just PWP, what more do you want from me?)

The Corpse-Angel's Blessing by @dbmars

Word Count: Summary: Will Graham is the omegan prince of the kingdom of Gaulemagne. Despite being the eldest child of the murdered king and queen, he cannot take the throne - the crown is reserved for alphas only, and his brother Matthew will rule once he comes of age. In the meantime, Will and beta princess Alana are under the guardianship of the Regent, their father's first cousin: Frederick Raul de Brûler, Earl of Chilton. Gaulemagne suffers under Chilton's rule. Will's only method of resistance is writing anonymous pamphlets about omegan rights and getting them into the hands of those who can affect change. Chilton knows this brilliant omega is trouble, and arranges a marriage for him with Alpha King Hannibal, the sovereign of Eidermark, the last "civilized" kingdom before the Northern Wastes - a tundraland filled with dangerous nomads uniting under the banner of a man calling himself the Great Red Dragon. Will is sold to King Hannibal the Vicious, traded along with a herd of cattle and casks of wine for weapons and armor. He travels to Eidermark determined to stand up for his beliefs and resist any way he can. And yet... there is more to King Hannibal than anyone knows...

this was a TREAT!!! (idk what else i'd be expecting from dbmars though) the tag 'hannigram is very very horny for eachother but they have to wait for the wedding' is what initially got me and wowow.

Safehome by @dbmars

Word Count: 27798 Summary: On the run, Will and Hannibal lay low for a month in a safehouse in rural Iowa.“We could disappear now. Tonight. Feed your dogs, leave a note for Alana, and never see her or Jack again. Almost polite.”Will’s mind railed against the words. His resistance was powerful at first, like the failure of a mighty dam holding back a river, the water pounding down to the valley below. No. Of course not. Hannibal had to pay for what he’d done to Abigail Hobbs. Jack Crawford was his friend and on the right side of the law. The plan to betray Hannibal would go down exactly as they’d plotted together.But then...Will opened his mouth to artfully refuse.Instead, he heard himself say, “Let’s go.”This is a finished, polished version of my DoMAYstic 2023 prompt challenge completed with twitter x threads. I was saving it to publish in May of 2024 with more smut and better writing, and then suddenly I realized IT'S JUNE AND I FORGOT TO POST IT.So, anyway. If you're looking for a comfort fic, this is pretty damn sweet. And if you've ever lived in the Midwest, well... you get it.

oh oh oh oh this was so freaking good. it was beautiful, it was poignant, it felt like home (hi hello, i am from the upper midwest), it felt like a hug. i love them so much.

Strangers with History by sourweather

Word Count: 2843 Summary: Will and Hannibal both like to visit a website that allows them to sext with random, anonymous strangers. What are the odds they would match with each other?It had to happen eventually.

I want like… 80k words of Will and Hanni sexting each other anonymously while normal s1 events are happening, you know? Or s2.

Night Terrors by @gnawing-suspicion

Word Count: 2665 Summary: Will Graham wakes up from a sex dream about his therapist. It throws off his whole morning.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAH I AM DECEASED THIS WAS SO HOT. the entire series is fucking AMAZING, @gnawing-suspicion bb you're amazing <3

Birthday Wish by Redeye17

Word Count: 5927 Summary: Will makes an impulsive wish and is dismayed to find it granted by the gods of love.-"I feel it's pertinent to ask you what exactly you wished for last night."Will rapidly mentally calculates how to explain the situation. He certainly hadn’t fucking wished to be a woman, but he has to admit that it is perhaps an easier solution to his wish than the logistical hurdles that carrying a baby in his male body would present."I can't tell you. If I do, it won't come true," Will mumbles out against Hannibal’s chest after a moment's hesitation.

DELICIOUS

Quarantined by KatherineKrawl

Word Count: 9102 Summary: En route to Kansas City for a murder case, Hannibal and Will get an urgent call from Jack, telling them to self-quarantine immediately in a small cabin near the woods. Shopping at Walmart, one double bed and no suits will bring them both a lot of 'firsts'.-“Perhaps we could...” and before Will could turn, an arm extended before his chest to pick a bottle from the pile. “...forgo this for the coming weeks?”Hannibal had appeared beside him, and Will saw the cart he was dragging after himself filled to the brim with cans, bags, bottles and packages. Toilet paper, too.Hannibal had been smart rather than stubborn by forgoing the fresh, perishable produce, and Will was relieved to see it. The look in those amber eyes, however, was... haunting.“That's my aftershave,” Will frowned, as he watched the glass bottle with the little blue ship being removed from the basket.

Enough time has passed since those initial days of the pandemic that this was actual perfection. I loved this so freaking much. And the marshmallow bed. Naturally.

responsible, forever, for what you have tamed by multifandom_fanfic_writer

Word Count: 6689 Summary: There was only one bed.

ONLY ONE BED. God, this was perfect.

To Fuel Your Radiance by GoldenUsagi

Word Count: 21340 Summary: AU where Will is the actual Devil. After Hannibal sells his soul, a fascination begins to develop between them. Will is intrigued by the unique monster Hannibal is, while Hannibal thinks Will is the most magnificent thing he's ever encountered. As their conversations continue, their involvement with each other becomes something else entirely.

Oh this was excellent. This dialogue here was TOP NOTCH.

If i went to touch you now (what would you do?) by LumusWinter

Word Count: 1944 Summary: Will tries to make Hannibal jealous. Needless to say, it works. Set during the second half of season 2.

This was hot PWP, love Will Graham being a size queen.

SEMI-BUTLER by TheSeaVoices

Word Count: 23714 Summary: A modern day Master/servant Hannigram AU. This idea came to me whilst working (literally on my hands and knees applying gold leaf) in one of the extraordinary Cheshire mansions I find myself in surprisingly regularly. I am continually surprised by the inexplicably loyal staff managers (nobody ever says the word BUTLER - but they are), proudly servile and selfless.Will inherits such a property in North West England, complete with staff and an interesting sort-of-butler who enjoys his work. REALLY enjoys his work.Also inspired by Jeeves and Wooster which I'm currently re-reading and loving, and all butlers everywhere. Oh, and Men On Edge :)Encouragement, ideas and pointers have really helped, thanks to:@weconqueratdawn@thecountessolivia@zigzagwanderer@aviran007@zacharybosch@fragile-teacup (Mrs_Gene_Hunt)

This was so OOC for Hannibal and Will, BUT i loved them anyway, and the sheer creativity when it came to the smut ramped this up to five stars for me!

Graham Cam by bigfootghostdick

Word Count: 19363 Summary: In nearly every aspect of his life, Hannibal is wholly unabashed in the endeavors he chooses to take on, especially where Will is concerned. At his core, he lives outside the realm of societal norms, so in a twisted effort to learn more about the beautiful empath that has captured his attention so utterly, he decides to install hidden cameras inside Will’s home.Will is blissfully unaware…or is he?

Will Graham showing off for Hannibal on the cameras Hannibal set up without telling Will? God, this was perfect.

It takes four by TheRosetteThief

Word Count: 4893 Summary: Adam confesses that he has a dirty fantasy to Hannibal. Hannibal talks him into letting him help him act it out with Will and Nigel.It's really just shameless foursome smut written for my lovely friends.

okay yes this is technically not just hannigram, but HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA good lord, I think if I could be Adam in this scenario, that would fix me.

The Pleasure Was Ours by wyldefire

Word Count: 4215 Summary: “Hear that, Han? Fucking your boy full. He fucking loves my cock.” Nigel teased, reaching up and tweaking at a nipple, nearly drawing a cry from Will’s lips. “Hush. Go on, Will. What else?” Hannibal replied, unfazed by his brother’s taunts. “And… And… I need… I need more. Fuck, Hannibal, I need more. I need more. Please.” Will begged. “What do you need, William?” Hannibal inquired. “You.”

Once again, not strictly Hannigram but... yeah, I'll see myself out. Trans Will in this was perfect.

A Joy Hard Learned in Winter was the Warming of the Bed by omnilegent

Word Count: 2709 Summary: The doctor took the key and opened the door, revealing a pretty standard motel room. Small en-suite with the light still on, terrible TV leaning precariously off the wall, clean but worn out to almost complete smoothness carpet. And only one bed.Ah.‘Adequate.’ Hannibal sniffed, hanging his coat up and feeling the fluffiness (or lack thereof) of the pillows.‘Yeah?’ Will asked, nervous that Hannibal was going to demand another room out of disgust.‘It’s only a night, after all.’ He gave Will a look, fond with a teasing twinkle that he couldn’t quite understand. ‘Unless you would be uncomfortable?’‘No!’ Will replied all too fast. ‘No. Better than the car.’ He tried to quip, but Hannibal’s smirk grew toothy.‘I assure you, I will keep you far warmer than the car heaters can.’—————The boys get stuck in a snowstorm and have to stay in a motel - but guess what? There was only one bed!

THERE WAS ONLY ONE BED.

Appetites of the Flesh by Magnetism_bind

Word Count: 2902 Summary: Will gets aroused at murder scenes. Eventually this gets noticed.

So this is a thing now for me, I guess!!!

The Business of Pleasure by Magnetism_bind

Word Count: 23888 Summary: Hannibal hires a hooker with the intention of eating him after he’s done fucking him.His plans change when he sees the hooker.

Give me moreeeeeeeeeeeeee.

A Little Unfinished Business by Magnetism_bind

Word Count: 26680 Summary: Ten years later Will Graham returns to Baltimore.

Sequel to The Business of Pleasure. Just as good.

Sweatpants by mattHughdancy

Word Count: 11736 Summary: It's gray sweatpant season and Will wears some for Reasons. Poor Hannibal is having a *hard* time.

Gimme more of the gray sweatpants please. Tbh me and Hannibal are very much on the same page here.

Wringing a Rock Dry by McRibFarewellTour

Word Count: 4556 Summary: (Between S2 and S3)Will’s sick. Sick enough that he’s pretty sure he’s going to die. Aware that winning their game is no longer an option, he decides to change the rules and go see Hannibal in prison.Hannibal does not appreciate this move.

OUCH. I've rec'd this one before, but I did a reread and it is just as good as it was the first (several) times!!!

~

and that's it for this month!! see y'all next month for the December rec list :)

[evvlevie]

Are you desperate to manifest? Then read my advice.

Hello my sweet followers! It's your favorite shifting/manifestation Blogger Evie again, and today I am here to soothe your nerves.

See, if you are anything like me, I know you. I know the way you have been obsessing over this particular desire of yours, closely watching every single possible hint of this desire arriving in your 3D and continuously over-consuming content on social media regarding manifestation/shifting content.

And since I have been there, I know what kind of advice you are craving. What kind of "hack" you are desperately seeking to finally unlock you having everything you have ever wished for. Coming across thousands of methods, overthinking their legitimacy, doubting everything, feeling like you are pushing your desires away, and then panicking, genuinely panicking, over the fact that you are sabotaging your own self and your desires. All of this ending with asking yourself why you deny yourself heaven.

Let me guide you through this.

First of all:

forget everything you have over-consumed in the last days/weeks/months. All of this extracurricular type of knowledge that you acquired regarding manifestations and all of that. Allow the two of us to start with a clean canvas here.

... you done? Thank you, my darling ♥️

Now let me tell you something about manifestation ...

Key, and I mean 🔑 K E Y 🔑 to manifesting things, is trust and faith.

yes. It's that easy, but also that hard.

Due to the way our society is constructed, we life our lives with the expectation that everything good only comes after a lot of hard work, a lot of pressure and most importantly : control.

There you have reason number one why people get in their own way when manifesting things. They doubt their manifestations can arrive "just because" they wished on it or believed on it. They can not trust into the fact, that that is all it can take, they believe they need some sort of control over their blessings. They want to know how it arrives, when it arrives, maybe even why it arrives. They want to control something, because that would satisfy their belief, that nothing comes from nothing.

Y O U are a spiritual being. Y O U are consciousness. Y O U are also the physical environment that you are in. Your 3D is Y O U.

But your cute little desperate, over-consuming ass knows that already doesn't it? Of course you do. And I am here to reward you with your own little ✨A+✨ for effort, but you need to understand the essence of what it means that the 3D is Y O U.

Your 3D is a direct, and I mean direct, translation of your soul. You and your physical environment are tied together. You are conjoined twins. You might seem like two separate entities, but on every level that matters, you guys are one. Your moods get reflected into the 3D, just like the 3D can affect your mood by presenting you a certain situation. But it is important to note, that everything starts with your assumptions, and ends with your 3D producing the physical version of that. Let me say this again: the 3D is a P R O D U C T of YOUR ASSUMPTIONS. Anything that you see, feel, smell whatever, is old news. It is the physical shape of your PAST thoughts.

So now, when you are affirming that your neighbor is in love with you and is going to ask for your hand in marriage, and he doesn't do it the very next day, do you assume your manifestations have failed? Maybe. Are you panicking now, because you have thought a negative thought and the entire internet has taught you, that this negative thought has now prevented you from ever attaining your desire ever? And do you now affirm against your accidental self sabotage in the way that you are drowning your head in forced positive thoughts that you are not believing a single bit? And are you now back to panicking because you know that you don't believe your forced positive thoughts, and you are anxious that this has now pushed your manifestations further back away?

I have been there. In fact I can only type out this scenario because I HAVE FELT THAT WAY.

But rest assured, because here is where my 🔑 K E Y🔑 of trust and faith ties in.

When I tell you, that you are a spiritual energy capable of changing your physical reality as much as you like, as enormously as you want, I want you to think of yourself like a greek god, or a magician of some sort. As if you had a blank notebook in front of you and anything you write in it happens. 100% Guarantee. How powerful would you feel? That's your exact, and I mean exact, power. The 3D is not your commander. You are like a child with infinite fantasy and the 3D is just play-doh that you mold to your liking. Realize your power. And most importantly: ACCEPT it. Accept, that even the bad stuff that had happened to you, happens BECAUSE of you. Nothing ever starts from anything else other than you. Remember: the 3D is like your conjoined twin. It is not your enemy, because it's delayed production shows you things you dislike, it's simply just you.

✨Now imagine this:✨

Let's say you want to manifest, that you get a brand new car. A MINI. Let's say a red one (totally not suggesting this because I drive a red MINI). And let's say you want that car so bad, you look up at the sky and shout at it : "Please god! Let me have a red MINI! Preferably with a heated steering wheel!" AND TO YOUR SURPRISE a woman right next to you overheard your little prayer there and tells you this: "Lucky for you, I am a fortune teller! And I can see that you are driving a red MINI with a heated steering wheel AND it even has Apple Car-Play!" You jump up and down out of joy and nothing can stop you. Your mother just told you that you guys can't afford another car insurance but you don't care, because the fortune teller already told you about your crazy cool red MINI. Suddenly the every MINI-dealership on the planet is destroyed in a hurricane, but you don't care because you know from your fortune-teller that you will get a red MINI, so why would you bother? Two weeks since then have passed, and out of nowhere your father confesses to you, that he has partaken in a crazy poker-game where a random rich dude has gambled with his brand new, red MINI-Cooper and that your very own dad (who you didn't even know, knew how to play poker) has won this amazing car for you (and it even has heated seats!).

This scenario, is what manifestation is for you, every day. Persisting in a fact that you already have something, despite the 3D showing you different, is trust and faith in yourself as the one and only creator of your reality. YOU are your own fortune teller. YOU know, that your desire is on its way to you, because you decided that it is. Every single time, you manifest things and the opposite is showing up, you need to be your own best friend, your own hero, your own fortune teller and your own creator and remind yourself, that you have all of your desires on their way, because only you can make a decision in your realm. You look outside of the window and there is no MINI in the driveway? Well I guess the translation into the 3D is slow again, because I know I manifested one.

Things have always taken its longest way to me, when I desperately tried to control. Tried to monitor and tried to micro-manage the way stuff happens. And when it didn't come quick enough, I would blame myself and question my powers. But there is no reason to question your powers, when you as the creator are prefect in creating. Your production might be slow, It might be weird and it produces in unexpected ways, but it's for sure reliable. When you put oranges into a juicing machine, you get orange juice. You just have to trust into your own production company that its producing your products (and they are).

There is no reason, no room for anxiety, for overthinking or doubts. The process is simple. You order, you get. Every time. Nothing else. And sometimes you see your old orders before you see your recent ones, but that's okay your recent ones are still on their way. If you were to bawl your eyes out the moment your mother told you, she won't buy you a red MINI, that wouldn't have changed the fact that the fortune teller already predicted you that car. You would just be crying for no reason, but idk maybe you just need to? Who am I to judge the reason someone is crying, bestie?

Manifesting with this anxious overthinking scenario I showed you earlier can feel heavy, but I am here to remind you, that your anxious 3D-reactions are not postponing your manifestations, if you as a creator decide, that you are allowed to react without consequences, or at least without the consequences you would disapprove of. If you panic, and you feel like every single thought matters and manifests, then yeah obviously. The trick is to realize, that there is a cheat code to everything, and in this case, it's deciding that certain things just never happen because you don't want them to.

So finally I want you guys to remember:

be your own fortune teller, and trust into the fact that you always predict correctly.

yours in every reality,

Evie <3

[whichcouldmeannothing]

minnie's markwardo fic rec list

my credentials:

i've watched tsn like 5 times

i've written a lot for it

i've read a lot of it

summaries and thoughts under the cut! lets go socialists*!

(*socialists = social network fans)

short fics (under 5k)

Never Quite Like This by wardo_wedidit (3k, au)

Facebook is a boy band who makes music critics love and teenage girls go crazy for, and Mark and Eduardo's genius is the band's linchpin. But there is so much to them behind closed doors, and Chris gets a front row seat to it all. Facebook is a boy band who makes music critics love and teenage girls go crazy for, and Mark and Eduardo's genius is the band's linchpin. But there is so much to them behind closed doors, and Chris gets a front row seat to it all.

for people who: liked daisy jones and the six and had a one direction phase and like fandom drama

this reignited my tsn phase in 2023, so bless this fic ^^

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A Curve that Sets Everything Straight by Hecate (4k, fix-its)

Mark's heart matters. And Eduardo wants to see him smile.

Mark means so much more to him than all the other people that looked at him as if he was better than ice cream and world peace combined. Mark is brilliant and an asshole and he makes Eduardo forgive shit that he shouldn't forgive. Mark makes it easy to stay.

for people who: like epistolary fics, who want things fixed, who like to be in pain (just by this quote, doesn't it fill you with pain and suffering? read it!!)

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There I Fixed It by lightgetsin (4k)

“You need a fucking keeper,” Wardo rages. “Someone apparently needs to make you drink orange juice and stop you from blowing up your appliances and spray you down with a fire extinguisher every now and then, for the love of God. Why the fuck don’t you have people doing these things?”

for people who: like to be taken care of, like that 'it's rotten work/not to me, not if it's you' quote, are shenanigans lovers

unironically, this is one of the funniest fics that is on this list, absolutely edible and laugh out loud

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The Blue Period by stilettodandelion

The lights from the chandeliers pour from the ceiling, showering down like the roar of sunlight or rain breaking through crushed glass. All questions, Mark thinks. Nothing but questions. How many months would he stay? What paintings does he want for the rest of the house? How many of them does he need to cover these vacant walls, how many CPUs and TV screens and workstations to fill up this hollow coliseum? Or: the Great-Gatsby AU.

for people: who like being sad, who like pretty pretty descriptions, WHO ARE ART FIENDS YUPS

if you've read the great gatsby, you know they would fit. also its set in singapore so immediately thumbs up for me!

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Girls Are Not Meant to Fight Dirty (Never Look a Day Past Thirty) by @almost-a-class-act (9k, magic)

“He turned into a girl,” Dustin bursts out, unable to contain himself any longer. There's a beat. Then Eduardo laughs. “All right?” “No, he – We mean, he actually turned into a woman,” Chris says. “Dustin isn’t messing with you.” “For once,” Chris and Dustin say at the same time. Or: Mark wakes up female for no particular reason that anyone can discern, learns a few life lessons, and figures out what he actually wants from Eduardo.

for people who want: mark to truly be a better person, who like body-swap shenanigans, who want to feel joy again

look this was really funny!!! it was very "your name" coded, but its a really good fic if you need mark to speedrun becoming a better person, its both really funny and really transformative

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been at this far too long by @alakeeffectgirl

In which Eduardo learns how to argue with Mark, and Mark learns to be somewhat less of a jerk.

for people who like: funny fics, people who like epistolary fics

i tell you every epistolary fic gets my praises, yummy yummy yummy, its some push and pull if you want a bit more resistance, like mark shouldnt have it too easy to be forgiven :0

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medium fics (under 20k)

The Greatest Trick by fairy_tale_echo (16k)

Mark makes a deal with the Devil for everything he ever wanted ... but when the Devil arrives to collect, he discovers he put up much more than just his soul. (or: What would you trade for the thing you want most?)

for: people who love: fairy_tale_echo, funny little fantasy aus, poetic cinema, chris moments

this is one of the most insane fics that this fandom has ever seen. the development and the plot will grip you and make you absolutely entranced and you will screech at your phone, trust me (also did u read that damn summary? thats insane isnt it)

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pieces from my heart by indecentexposed (12k)

Mark gets drunk, watches the video of the depositions, and comes to some startling realizations.

“The thing is, Mark, when someone loves you so much, they would do absolutely anything you asked—sometimes the best way to love them back is not to ask.”

for people who: like suffering, want a good fix-it, want the most caring friendships ever

this is one of the first fics i read in this fandom, and i love it so much. it is so soft and sad and lovely and OHG MY DAYS. READ THIS

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Call Me (any, anytime) by aqualined (inabstract) (15k, au)

Tech help AU. (Or the one where Mark learns proper phone etiquette and that you can actually fall in love with the sound of someone's voice—well, maybe if that someone's Eduardo.)

for people who: like comedy, who like loser tech aus (me), VOICE PEOPLE

hey. this is really funny. revisitng all of these reminded me how funny tsn fics are. but trust man. this is one of their most rom commy fics :D

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In Every Line of Code by lc2l (18k, au)

Mark's parents buy him Eduardo - a state-of-the-art, brand new, tailor made robotic best friend - for his birthday. The only problem is, Mark asked for a laptop.

HEY. EVERYONE SHOULD READ THIS. EVERYONE SHOULD READ THIS. YOU NEED TO READ THIS. if u read nothing from this list, can you at least read this. please please. this is the best fic on here. sad and sweet and lovely and bittersweet. the most like the vibe of the movie. THE BEST FIC I READ IN 2022. TRUST ME

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let me shill if you want more depression, read my fic! hahaha

the last great american dynasty by @whichcouldmeannothing (3k, post canon)

You replay the scenes of love and strife, remember the shared books, the loved song, the souvenirs of friendship that will survive the vanishing. you know that memory can thrive on loss, and give them the lives you long to share, the news of the dear ones who have dropped out of your life. yet you wonder, wonder, whether any of these will survive. - Mark, Facebook and the things he's lost.

this is my favourite fic i wrote for tsn, read it if you want to see a man violently depressed and then depressingly in love :D

i haven't revisted the fandom in a while, but if we get to 200 notes ill make a part two and get somemore for ya <3

happy reading!