#when you create a very rich and planned out universe for a fic and then feel obligated to write all of it

[gingerwerk]

I’m writing my Andyeddie preseries thing finally and rn I’m writing their little bit about their weekend leave in Melbourne which is making me think about how this would be the same weekend Flo and burgie met and now I’m feeling a debilitating need to write something for them

[lorelune]

hey lore !!!!! I'm a big fan of your works <3 they honestly amaze me so much. i especially adore your world building it's just so ?? scrumptious ?! no seriously it's so good like i want to eat it up along with your characterization. i love how you enhance already existing world's as well as create new ones — not just world's but ways things work and intricacies within intricacies.. you provide such a clear idea that makes picturising it all so much easier and interesting

ive never written before other than some blurbs here and there on my notes app but recently hsr brainrot has been Hitting it lately and i've had way too many thoughts 💭 i was planning on maybe writing a fic.. but it requires insane amount of world building (and ik that's definitely not the right thing to start off on, as a new writer/for your first work but then again ig there is no right and wrong way to do it (?) it's more like my brain power might not support me and i’ll abandon it half way or something 🥲 haha) anyway i was wondering if you have any tips on how to worldbuild or build further on the existing ideas of certain organisations and all that sort.. there's just so many ideas haywiring and i would really love some advice if you don't mind. but no pressure !! sorry if this was too long,,

omg hello anon!! not too long at ALL hehe i'm gonna answer this below the cut hehe

first off THANK YOU 🥺!!! i appreciate your kind words so much <3 i really enjoy worldbuilding in my own writing and i'm very glad the ideas i bungle up translate well when actually in a story :'^) in my own little brainworld where i daydream, i tend to add details and layers to the original story that i do like... question if i can execute. so it is always nice to hear that they do in fact make it through 😭💓

as for advice!!

anon. so transparently. so REAL-y. if you have the brainworms for a story, even if its big and complicated and a lot to chew on it, just start!!! it is so intimidating truly but there is no better writing fuel than the muse of a story that has captured you. and!! if it does not end up finished, that is totally okay!! i have personally learned some of most valuable lessons writing while working on large pieces that ultimately ended up unfinished.

for more material advice:

when working on fic, i keep a lot of notes in a personal discord server. i have a wip channel and threads for certain fic ideas where i compile plot details, world details, fanart and inspo photos. it's super helpful!!!

one thing that helps me when i have big grand worlds in my head and i need to get them down and written is, instead of choosing to take a bite out of the whole world itself, i try to choose just a snippet or event and build around that. for example, in cicatrix, you get LOTS of lore abt calibrators and their relationship to the luofu, but plenty of what i had spinning around in my noggin didn't make it down. it wasn't relevant to the immediate story, event, or conflict, so it stayed unspoken. however, i think having really rich background going INTO writing these snippets of a larger universe helps fill things out and seem more like... lived in.

i will say. so indispensable. BETA READERS. the first few drafts of cicatrix where so ROUGH when it came to world building. i had the whole lore of calibrators and the luofu in my head, but getting it down clearly and in a way that made enough sense to an unknowing audience took a few read throughs and feedback by some lovely friends of mine. i highly recommend tracking down someone to read over your pieces and provide feedback on the things you're worried about!!!

and like... perhaps a little corny. but. believe in yourself. we are our own greatest critics, and the best attitude to cultivate toward the craft is that you can... do it. you just can. innately anon, regardless of experience, you can create the story and world you want to. bolstering a sense of confidence goes FAR esp if you end up writing a longer piece!!!

anon i got quite rambly asldkf. i hope this is in some way helpful!!! if you have any other questions, i am happy to answer!! i truly think writing immersive worlds is SO fun and engaging, and sometimes you just gotta. throw your hat in the ring. start the run and see where it takes you. i wish you such like and good tidings anon <3

[5sosfanfictioncatalogue]

Summery Fic Titles Masterlist

bbq (ao3) - daddyadam michael/luke E, 1k

Summary: "it's nothing. just a little jealous of Ashton I guess." Michael mumbled, the tension seeming to disappear from his spine.

"don't be jealous. I only like you." Luke smiled, running his hand over Michael's arm.

"promise?" Michael asked, voice sounding small and fragile.

"my loins are like these on the grill, only on fire for you." Luke smiled his big dopey grin.

Bonfire hearts (ao3) - starsandnightskies luke/ashton G, 1k

Summary: ❝ you light the spark in my bonfire heart ❞

Maybe it's a good thing Michael dragged Ashton out of the hotel and into the warm midsummer air.

fourth of july (every song's about you) (ao3) - galacticsugar luke/calum T, 3k

Summary: For some reason, the idea that Calum thinks about Luke at all is a small shock. He thinks about Calum a lot, probably too much. He thought he’d go off to college and meet all these amazing people, new romantic prospects that would sweep him off his feet and make Calum seem boring by comparison. But all that happened was Luke met a lot of people, and none of them were as perfectly imperfect as Calum. 

i feel the wind in my hair, chasing after you (ao3) - hideforalifetime luke/ashton G, 18k

Summary: Luke works more than he should, is paid less than he should be for the amount of hours he works, goofs off at lunch with Calum, goes home to his dog Petunia in the evening and watches whatever’s on HBO. Then he does it all over again. And he’s sick of it. He wants a change. He wants to be the guy he was in college, free of all worries like rent and bills and all that bullshit. Just walking from class to the dorm to the bar, and every weekend, he’d go off on his own, just him and his motorbike.

Or, the one where workaholic, control freak biker Luke Hemmings meets the most laid back guy he’s ever seen. And he’s hot, which is a plus.

Looks Like He Can Surf (ao3) - LyricalPary (hoseoky) luke/ashton E, 174k

Summary: They spend the summer before university in an old beach house. Luke meets the human embodiment of sunshine. Just like the ocean waves, sometimes people are unpredictable.

Moonlight (ao3) - RamblingWithFantasy michael/luke, calum/ashton T, 9k

Summary: Michael decides to go to a bonfire party with Calum and Ashton. He plans to get a little bit of booze, knowing Calum will be there to surveil him. He doesn’t know yet he’ll meet a very important someone along the way.

-

Or the night when Michael isn’t sober and meets Luke by chance and tells him several unspoken truths he didn’t pluck up the courage to tell him the first time he hung out with him.

Splash (ao3) - Branithar michael/ashton, luke/calum G, 1k

Summary: The boys have fun at the beach.

summer (ao3) - wayfcth luke/calum M, 2k

Summary: luke has everything. a rich family, boarding school and a one way ticket to harvard law. but on an annual trip to the hamptons, he makes a promise to himself: he will lose his virginity before the summer is over. he just didn’t expect to fall in love along the way.

or luke wants to lose his virginity and calum is just so fucking smart and hot.

Summertime (ao3) -  FayeHunter michael/luke T, 1k

Summary: Michael and Luke go to the beach.

You, Me and The Sea. (ao3) - Cashton4506 calum/ashton, michael/luke N/R, 2k 

Summary: Ashton and Calum have been best friends since they were born. Every summer, they go to the summer house, which their families share. What happens when they start forming feelings for each other?

when i think of summer (i think of you) (ao3) - bellawritess luke/ashton T, 2k

Summary: “So, how do you rate this birthday?” Ashton prompts, closing the space between them to stand between Luke’s legs. He sticks his hands in the big front pocket of the hoodie, and it’s charming. His eyes are greener up close than from afar. Luke has the strangest feeling of missing someone who’s right in front of him. Like his body is preparing for missing Ashton in the future; like introducing a virus to create antibodies

.“Out of ten?” Luke asks, tilting his forehead against Ashton’s. “Eleven.”

Your name is written in the sand (ao3) - screamtobeheard (orphan_account) michael/luke M, 8k

Summary:  “Luke, what are we doing?” he asks, some slight panic in his voice. Luke places his hand on Michael’s shoulder. It’s a completely normal touch, something all of them do daily but right now, in the dim light of the pool and the only heat he feels is coming from Luke, it makes him melt. Luke’s thumb strokes once, twice up and down before he makes eye contact again. “We’re just skinnydipping,” he says, reasonably. His hand doesn’t move however. It slides from his shoulder over his arm, till his soft fingers trial over the palm of his hand. “Just swimming,” Luke says softer as he carries on.

[niniblack]

Nini's Spidey Fic Masterlist

Time to make one for ALL the Spidey fic! Lately I only write Spider-Man and Irondad fic, sorry to all my Captive Prince friends.

Current WIPs

the ghost at the back of your closet

The DODC makes good on their threat to charge May with child endangerment, sending Peter into foster care. But in a universe where Tony Stark is still alive, his actions have repercussions as well, and May Parker isn’t the only one fighting to get custody of her child back.

Meanwhile, Peter’s left completely alone and unable to contact any of his loved ones, trying to navigate a system he thought he’d left behind after his aunt and uncle picked him up a few weeks after his parents’ deaths. And he’s absolutely not going to let anything like what happened to him happen to Morgan, no matter what he has to do to make sure she’s safe.

--------------------------------------------

Extraction

Peter Parker has several parental figures: a hippie aunt, a dorky uncle, an absentee father, and a deceased mother. Trying to find out more about his mother got him bitten by a radioactive spider last week, which resulted in superpowers (awesome!) while his dad’s mysterious government job has just gotten him kidnapped and dragged halfway around the world (not awesome!) The last person he’s expecting to be rescued by is Tony Stark, famous mostly for being rich and famous, but at this point he’ll take anyone who’s not pointing a gun in his face.

Tony Stark—genius, billionaire, philanthropist, and SHIELD consultant—would really rather be examining the shiny scepter that the Avengers just recovered and charging an exorbitant fee for offering his expertise on it, but he’s a sucker for missions involving kids and Natasha knows it. It’s just his luck that absolutely nothing is going to plan, and what should have been an easy in-and-out rescue op has turned into a race through Madripoor with a scared, untrained teenager, and half the city out to kill him.

An AU of Extraction, minus the drug cartels and plus the typical Marvel shenanigans.

--------------------------------------------

Multi-Chapter/Series

A Thousand Lies (and a good disguise)

When Tony agreed to fund a research project with SHIELD to recreate the super soldier serum and then promptly forgot about it for the next three years, he never expected it to come back to bite him in the ass quite this hard.

Or, more accurately, to come back in the form of a spider that’s just bitten Peter Parker, a 14-year-old kid on a field trip to Avengers Tower.

- - -

In which Tony is responsible for creating the spider that bit Peter and gave him powers, and spends the next eight years feeling guilty over it.

--------------------------------------------

the long game

“Your prints were a match for a missing persons case from ten years ago. A little boy who was kidnapped.”

The officer pulls out a picture that she turns toward Peter. It’s a little boy around four years old, with curly brown hair. “That’s you,” she says.

Peter shakes his head.

“Do you remember how you got to that park? Who left you there?”

“Lady, I don’t remember jack shit,” Peter says. “I was like four. No one remembers shit from when they were four.”

---

Or: the biodad au where Peter gets arrested for selling drugs, and that actually improves his life.

--------------------------------------------

The Simple Life

“What’s going on?” Tony asks, walking over to the security guard. The man is sitting at his desk and talking to a kid who’s gesturing animatedly. “Is it bring your kid to work day or something?”

“Hi!” the kid says, smiling brightly and waving at Tony. “I’m Peter.”

“He says he’s, uh…” The guard seems to be at a loss.

“You’re my dad!” Peter says, still smiling brightly.

Tony’s whole body flinches.

---

An AU of The Game Plan, set right after Civil War and featuring a very lonely Tony Stark with poor coping mechanisms; a very young Peter Parker who is losing track of how many lies he’s told; and a very busy Pepper Potts who is starting to see her ex-boyfriend in a new light.

--------------------------------------------

the one where Bucky kidnapped Peter Stark as a toddler (series)

It’s 2019. In a universe where Thanos didn’t snap, Bucky is still making amends for his crimes as the Winter Soldier. Which includes that time he kidnapped Tony Stark’s kid in 2007. 12 years later, after tracking Nicholas Stark down again on a trip that takes him halfway around the world, he drops the teenager now known as Peter Parker off on Tony’s doorstep.

Then Peter and Tony are left to deal with the aftermath.

(These are best read in order for them to make the most sense.)

old ghosts keep whispering In which Bucky is working on making amends, leading him to play detective into what happened to Nick Stark after he broke protocol and dumped the toddler outside a hospital instead of delivering him to HYDRA.

my family (might be a walking disaster) Peter Parker is dealing with finding out he was kidnapped and that his biological father is Iron Man really well. Honestly. He's fine. It's fine. Everything is fine.

twelve years, eight days, twenty-one hours, and fifteen minutes (give or take) Tony counts the time that his son is missing in minutes at first, then hours. Days. Months. ... Years. He never really stops counting.

One shots in the series: the guest room oh california (I didn’t think you’d end up treating me so bad) drinking buddies

--------------------------------------------

Papa-Paparazzi

The top story on Buzzfeed on February 16, 2017, is “Everything We Know About Peter Parker, Who May or May Not Actually Be Peter Stark.” Turns out Tony Stark might have been hiding the fact that he has a kid all these years. We’re just as shocked as you are, the subheadline reads.

It should be an easy rumor to dispel, seeing as it’s not true. But, it turns out, nothing is ever quite that simple when dealing with a celebrity scandal.

- - -

In which Tony is Very Famous™️ and that bleeds over into fans paying attention to the people around him as well. Which includes Peter, now. And would be fine, if they would all just stop assuming that Tony is his dad.

--------------------------------------------

One Shots

What's in a Name?

Morgan looks up to Peter and wants to be just like him. And if Peter calls Daddy "Mr. Stark" then that means that must be the right thing to call him.

Mr. Stark is not quite as thrilled with this development.

--------------------------------------------

How to Get Banned from Monaco (again)

Tony texts Rhodey before they leave for Monaco:

two rules for this trip don’t let Peter out of your sight don’t let him do anything Pepper would get mad about

Rhodey: that second one doesn’t leave many options

--------------------------------------------

Since You've Been Gone

Post-NWH. The first time Pepper watches the hologram Tony left behind, after the holidays are over, she discovers he left a message to someone he only calls ‘kid’. Someone he says he loves. Someone he might have died trying to bring back to life.

Someone she can’t remember.

She’s going to solve this mystery, even if it makes her face a few things she’s been avoiding.

- - -

Or, Pepper realizes she’s forgotten Peter, and does some detective work on her quest to remember.

--------------------------------------------

The Best Thanksgiving Ever

Thanksgiving, 2024. It’s a year post-blip and Tony Stark has invited all his family and friends over to his idyllic lake house for a perfect holiday. It’s gonna be great. Perfect. Absolutely nothing is going to go wrong.

---

“No,” Happy says. He steps towards the turkey, hands raised as though to ward them both off. “You two are not blowing up another turkey.”

Peter turns to him, eyes wide. “But… it’s for science.”

Happy raises a finger at him. “No.”

“Hap–” Tony tries.

“No.”

--------------------------------------------

I tamagot-chu (if you tamagot-me)

Ned shoved a bright purple tamagotchi into Peter’s hands.

“What is this?” Peter asked.

“That’s Karen.”

Peter looked between Ned and the tamagotchi. “What?”

“I ran out of room on the external drive,” Ned said.

Peter blinked at the tamagotchi. A tiny circle with a face was bouncing around the screen. There was a little pixelated skull in the corner. “You downloaded Karen onto a tamagotchi?”

“My mom was coming! I panicked!”

--------------------------------------------

The Hottest Toy of the Season

“You got that Iron Man toy, right?” May asks, the night before Christmas Eve.

“Oh,” Ben says. “The action figure. Right. I, um…”

“You did not forget to buy that,” she says, voice firm. “That is the only thing Peter has talked about all month. He is obsessed with that damn flying tin can.”

“I got it,” Ben says. “Of course I got it.” He smiles at her, nodding. “C’mon May, would I forget that?”

He totally forgot that.

- - -

A Jingle All the Way AU with the Parkers, circa 2009. Merry Christmas!

--------------------------------------------

Different Shapes and Sizes

“So, uh, Peter. And Peter,” Peter waves a hand towards them, making an incredibly awkward introduction. “This is Aunt May, as I’m sure you know already.”

They both stare, eyes wide. Peter’s smile falters a bit as they stay silent.

The oldest Peter tilts his head a bit, brow furrowed. “I… did not know that. No.”

- - -

In which things go differently, Aunt May is not dead, and everyone meets up at the school science lab because why the hell not?

--------------------------------------------

Just Part of the Costume (collab with Jenniboo311)

“This isn’t what it looks like,” Peter says, voice rather high pitched, as he tries to cover himself with his hands.

“It isn’t?” MJ manages to ask. She bites her lip, before voicing a suspicion that she has been 69% sure of for the past semester but is now creeping up on 95% surety. “Because it kinda looks like you’re Spider-Man, and you like thong underwear.”

--------------------------------------------

Tony Shark (doo doo do do do do) (collab with Jenniboo311 and Happyaspie)

Peter the Spider-Crab requires some assistance and the best person to ask is obviously the one and only Tony Shark. (crack fic!)

--------------------------------------------

Hiatus

A 10 Step Plan for Saving Your Mentor’s Life (a Guide by Peter Parker)

What should be a quick training mission for the kid turns into disaster when the warehouse Tony and Peter are investigating collapses on top of them, leaving Tony trapped beneath the rubble. Waiting for someone with more expertise than a fifteen year old kid to dig him out would be ideal, sure, but Tony’s bleeding out from a gut wound. He doesn’t have that kind of time.

[fsbc-librarian]

I posted 500 times in 2022

That's 423 more posts than 2021!

86 posts created (17%)

414 posts reblogged (83%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@musette22

@fsbc-librarian

@buckymilf

@shrunkyclunksbang

@possibleplatypus

I tagged 175 of my posts in 2022

#stucky - 121 posts

#fsbc - 114 posts

#fsbc library - 109 posts

#bucky barnes - 92 posts

#steve rogers - 91 posts

#fanfiction - 66 posts

#stevebucky - 65 posts

#fanfic - 55 posts

#library - 49 posts

#fic rec - 26 posts

Longest Tag: 111 characters

#i remember reading the earliest versions of abo before supernatural took it and turned it into what it is today

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Nomad Steve..

100 notes - Posted May 22, 2022

#4

This is an open call for someone to create a ficlet for me.. I’ll even turn it into a podfic in the end

But imagine: Bucky is shopping with his and Steve’s daughter, but it’s been a long day and everyone is tired, and everyone is cranky and just want to get home, and this is the last thing that needs to happen before they can (cos it’s Sam and Nat’s wedding, and this kid is as stubborn as Steve ever was, and is the one who insisted on a dress in the first place, and god only knows what will happen if she doesn’t get one)..

185 notes - Posted June 10, 2022

#3

Stolen from a friend.. but this should be a Stucky Fic 👌

244 notes - Posted October 21, 2022

#2

I have three fics waiting to go into The Library, and I cannot for the life of me work out which category/s they belong in.. (PS these are all explicit, please check the tags before reading)

Collar Full of Chemistry

2bestfriends

Summary:

Steve is very rich and desperate to feel in control of his life again after a recent divorce has left him feeling bitter and lonely. When he keeps crossing paths with a disaster twenty-something, an unconventional solution presents itself. Steve's always been one for following his instincts.

Bucky is very broke and can't seem to catch a break, especially after some asshole fires him for one fucking mistake. So of course, it follows that he should sign a contract agreeing to do everything and anything that same asshole wants for a whole year in exchange for a payout that could finally change his life for the better.

~🔥~

in the gold room [ where everyone finally gets what they want ]

CircaClementine

Summary:

It’s only when they’re on opposite sides of the country attending University that our beloved boneheads realise how head over heels for each other they are. It’s true, after all, that you never know what you’ve got ‘til it’s gone.

Steve’s pining from New York, terrified to make a move and lose the person that means the most to him, while Bucky’s been planning a birthday present to himself– one that’s been over a decade in the making. Will Bucky have the courage after all? Will Steve risk the possible loss to see if Bucky feels the same way he does?

~🔥~

Proprietary Information

notlucy

Summary:

Okay, so Bucky Barnes has a crush on Steve Rogers. The guy's gorgeous, talented and, oh yeah, the Chief Design Officer of the biggest tech company in the world. In other words: he's so far out of Bucky's league that he might as well be in a different stratosphere.

~🔥~

And a reminder where you can find our current and upcoming categories

The Master List

258 notes - Posted May 4, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

As far as i’m concerned, fanfiction authors saved the entire MCU - y’all kept me around long enough for them to make the multiverse canon, which therefore canonises *every* fanfiction every made 🤷‍♀️

438 notes - Posted May 5, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[wannabegwenstacy]

Eden's Favorite Fic's (BTS Fic Recs)

Updated Version: Here!

Note: In the past I haven't indulged in tumblr fics often but I recently (past 3 months) have been reading quite regularly & am planning on branching out a bit. To keep track of the ones that I have enjoyed & the ones that I have even came back to I'm making this list. Again, I haven't been digging into the tumblr fics world for long so for right now its a very short list. I'm hoping with time I can get more fics of different types on here (btsxbts, some gender neutral xreader ones, & more ones that I genuinely like)

About me to understand what's going to be on here:

Age: 21 (99' liner)

Sexuality: Bisexual

Pronouns: She/Her

Ult Bias: Yoongi

Trio: Rap Line

I am OT7. I do enjoy smut but don't think it is necessary to FF. Overall I just want a well-crafted plot that makes sense. I read for entertainment & to escape. But I still need some form of realism (just me personally) to follow the trail of events. PSA: I'm trying to find a broader scope of writers I like but for right now I don't have many. There are gonna be some repetitive writers for now.

______________________________________________________________

Kim Namjoon:

- Librarian Namjoon Universe by @jungshookz

Beauty & the Bookworm (I love this concept SO MUCH)

Pairing: Cute, Good Boy, Nerdy, University Librarian Namjoon x Bratty, Semi-Popular, Procrastinator, University Student Reader

Word count: 20.8k

Summary: You're a procrastinator big time and you may or may not be failing. To get some extra credit you begrudgingly take the library assistant opening where you work under strict dorky Namjoon. Passive aggressiveness, cuteness, fluff, & some smuttiness arises.

Jealous-Boyfriend-Librarian Namjoon (Drabble)

Pairing: Jealous Boyfriend Librarian Namjoon x Oblivious Cute Girlfriend Uni Student Reader

Word count: 3.4k

Summary: You take an Art History Course and end up needing a tutor. Joon offers to tutor you but he doesn't know shit about Art History so you end up getting tutored by an ArtHoe Taehyung that may or may not like you but you are oblivious to this and Joon gets super jealous.

Kim Seokjin:

- Hockey Player Jin by @ve1vetyoongi

HEART OF GOLD (BLADES OF ICE)

Pairing: Sweet Hot New Hockey Player in Town Jin x Ex-Figure Skater (who has a history with jin) Reader

Word count: 20k

Summary: After a fall during figure skating practice dashes your dreams of competing at nationals, you vow to hang up your skates for good. That is until you cross paths with Kim Seokjin, captain of the ice hockey team, who is determined to get you back out on the rink and melt the ice in your heart. (Jimin is a bully in this and their other k-pop idols as characters. Very Very Fluffy and Hallmark Christmas Movie-ish so be aware of that. Overall, it's just cute :) )

Min Yoongi:

Note: these are all but one by the same writer @jungshookz & are written from the pov of a female reader. I'm gonna try to find some gender-neutral fics but for now, if you are female-identifying I really enjoyed these! :)

- Mechanic Yoongi Universe by @jungshookz

Baby, You Can Drive My Car (My favorite AU Fics I've read so far on Tumblr!!)

Pairing: Tatted, Mic Drop Era, Mechanic Min Yoongi x Spoiled Rich, Inexperienced, University Student Reader

Word count: 24.6k

Summary: Welcome to Min Mechanics - What can I do for you today, doll?

Maybe She Can Drive His Car

Pairing: Oblivious, Hot, Boyfriend, Mechanic Min Yoongi x Adorable, Spoiled, University Student, Jealous Girlfriend Reader

Word count: 11.6k

Summary: Yoongi's ex is back in town for a visit and you would be lying if you said you weren't slightly envious of a) how knowledgeable she is about stupid cars and b) how well she gets along with literally everyone.

- Uni Yoongi x Nerdy Reader (mini series) by @jungshookz

Note: these are all drabbles I'm gonna link my favorites in the series. I'll probably add more later.

Cocky Uni Student Yoongi x Nerdy Reader:

^^This is the start of the mini-series, recommend you read it first!^^

The One with the Scrunchie:

Contains: smut, a super cute scrunchie turning into a kink of sorts, slightly insecure Yoongi, experienced Yoongi, slightly inexperienced reader, shy about their own body reader.

Yoongi always had an Overactive Imagination:

Contains: talking about sex, implied smut, reader trying to be productive while also being horny, Yoongi being super distracted and horny.

"I'm gonna need you to shut up now please"

- CEO Yoongi Universe by @jungshookz

Suit&Tie (First Fic in the series)

Pairing: CEO Min Yoongi x Secretary Reader

Wordcount: 21k+

Summary: Young Intimidating Hot CEO Yoongi, Clumsy Secretary Y/N who loves Sugar, Best Friend Jimin. Funny Awkward Meeting that sets up the whole plot, was like reading a Kdrama in book form.

The One Where Augst D makes a Comeback (Favorite Fic in the series)

SPOILERS READ PRIOR DRABBLES TO CATCH UP!! (I recommend The First Date, The One Where Yoongi is Just a Little Jealous, The Proposal, The Wedding, Baby Makes Three, Baby Min's Timeline, The Birth of Baby Min, Daddy's Little Girl, Who the Hell is Augst D.

Pairing: CEO Min Yoongi x Secretary Reader

Word count: 6.5k

Summary: Yoongi finds out you faked an orgasm and he's going to gi-give it to you more ways than one.

- Demon Yoongi by @jungshookz

Hellish (I got some feelings for incubus Yoongi not gonna lie)

Pairing: Bratty, Super Sexy, Sex Demon, Mint Min Yoongi x University Student, Non-Supernatural Believer Reader

Word count: 22.1k

Summary: Jungkook is your clueless, energetic best friend. Wonho is a character in this fic, You are dragged into summoning a demon one night by your overly excited to be summoning a demon? best friend Jungkook. Spooky but Kind of Sexy Shit Happens! (This is probably my second favorite Yoongi Fic I've read!)

- Basketball Captain Yoongi by @jungshookz

Basketball Captain Yoongi

Pairing: Cocky, Popular, Charming Captain of the Basketball Team Min Yoongi x Water girl University Student Reader (who has been crushing on Yoongi hard for some time)

Word count: 18.4k

Summary: Jungkook is your athletic bro of a best friend that signs you up to be his replacement as the water boy (girl in this case) after he makes the team. You have had a pathetic schoolgirl crush on Yoongi for a while and is basically the only reason you agreed to be the water girl aside from spending time with Jungkook. It's fluffy & smutty!

- Android Yoongi @jungshookz

Technologically in love (..I cried! but I also smiled a lot so you know this is well written)

Pairing: Personal Assistant Prototype but SUPER Lifelike Android Min Yoongi x Messy, Junkfood, & Cartoons Loving Reader (basically your early 20s living alone kind of vibe)

Word count: 24k+

Summary: You live in a Detroit Becoming Human type universe but prior to a lot of the advancements. Androids are already a thing but not to the level the M1N Y00NG1 is yet. You are best friends with all the boys and they happen to be engineers which is how you ended up with Yoongi in the first place. Namjoon created Yoongi as a personal assistant prototype android & you are told to live with him. Things get fluffy, SUPER ANGSTY, and super smutty!

- Listen Closely by @avveh

Listen Closely ( sexiest Yoongi fic I have read so far, I kept wanting to go back and read again)

Pairing: Tsundere Office Worker Min Yoongi x Hardworking Office Worker Reader

Word count: 12.2k

Summary: Unintentionally, you stumble upon something that makes you view your coworker Min Yoongi in a whole new light. (SMUT 18+: Masturbation, voyeurism, exhibitionism, breathplay, spanking, degrading names.)

Jung Hoseok:

- Secret Boyfriend Hoseok by @kpopfanfictrash

Keeping a Secret (this took me places...Idk about you but I have trouble finding really good Hoseok fics and this one was perfect. One of my favorite fics on this website)

Pairing: New Relationship Dom Hoseok x New Relationship Tease Reader

Word count: 3.7k

Summary: You and Hoseok have been hooking up for a few weeks now. No one in your friend group knows. What happens then, when he shows up at movie night looking better than anticipated? SMUT!

- Studio Sex Hoseok by @joonbird

Studio:

Pairing: Boyfriend BTS Hoseok x Girlfriend Reader

Word Count: 5k

Summary: Hoseok is stressed about his upcoming mixtape, so you decide to swing by his studio and help him relax. (Hobi being the beautiful glorious sexy man he is and putting those ungodly hips to use!)

Park Jimin:

- Jimin and His Pregnancy Kink by @boymeetsweevil

ME, YOU, AND THIS THING WE HAVE BETWEEN US (NSFW)

Pairing: Sweet Caring Domestic but Horny Jimin x Pregnant Hormonal Reader

Word count:~3.7k

Warnings (aka what to prepare for): everything is graphic and gross lmao, blowjobs (face f*cking), boob job (not the one w/ silicon inserts), cunnilingus, dom!jimin if u squint, cumplay if u squint again, dirty talk/degrading language, penetrative sex (doggy style), unprotected sex, PREGNANCY KINK that’s a big one

Summary: You’re pregnant and Jimin is…happy about it (If I remember correctly this one is 25% cute domestic Jimin trying to calm his hormonal pregnant partner and 75% pure filth aka Jimin having a pregnancy kink and trying to hide it but not well at all. This is however my ultimate fav Jimin smut I have ever read!)

- Crush/Neighbor Jimin by @sketchguk

Lover to Lean On: (I absolutely adore this fic. Overall it's just really well written and I felt like I was watching a show in my head rather than reading a short Tumblr fic. Highly recommend it!)

Pairing: Cute Customer & Neighbor Jimin x Florist Reader

Word Count: 19.9k

Summary: For months, you can hear your no-face neighbor and his ‘girlfriend’ singing and dancing and laughing and falling in love. Above all, you can hear their bed banging against your shared wall, and they won’t ever let you sleep. You’d much rather stay up at night worrying about your own problems, like the weight of an unrequited crush, so of course, you’re bitterly single. But one day, the apartment is radio silent. And one day slowly turns into one week and then into an immeasurable amount of time since you’ve heard his laugh. So on Valentine’s Day, when you’re missing it the most, you beg your neighbor to open up to you with cookies in one hand and two broken hearts in the other.

Kim Taehyung:

-Roommate Taehyung Universe by @jungshookz

Stuck with You

Pairing: Frat Bro bit of an asshole Roommate Kim Taehyung x Clean Organized bit of a Pushover Reader

Word count: 37k

Summary: Kim Taehyung becoming your new roommate is definitely up there on the list of the worst things to ever happen to you. Librarian Namjoon is your Best friend and ex-roommate. Frat bro Jeon Jungkook makes an appearance. There is so smut and implied smut.

The One with the One Year Anniversary (Drabble)

Pairing: The cutest domestic boyfriend Kim Taehyung x girlfriend reader

Word count: 4.6k

Summary: NO SPOILERS! so I'm going to give you a quote: "well, um, look! I made breakfast for you. f-for us!" Also, SFW

Jeon Jungkook:

- Gamer Jungkook by @softyoongiionly

PRESS START (this is the cutest fucking smut type fic I have ever read! it is so pure and is the exact type of relationship I want! IT MADE ME SIMP SO HARD!) gender-neutral I believe!

Pairing: Night owl Gamer Domestic Boyfriend Jeon Jungkook x Witty Domestic Cutesy Relationship Reader

Word count: 5.5k

Summary: A night in with your boyfriend Jungkook includes all kinds of things: anime, witty banter, snacks from 7-Eleven and, you know, sex. (GREAT READ!! I AM A SIMP FOR THIS FIC!!)

[talesofstyles]

The Law of Attraction

buckle up my little ballsacks you’re in for a treat. this is pure lawyer harry filth. honestly i’ve got no excuse.

massive massive thank you to @smokeinherperfume​ for letting me ramble about lawyer harry 24/7 and @for-fucks-sake-h​ for allllll the knife emojis FGHSHSGSGH ILY 🥺💛

p.s. all of my fics about lawyer harry are standalones so you don’t have to read them in order. but just fyi technically this one happens after Quid Pro Quo. hope you like it! xx

An orgasm crashes through YN’s body, causing her back to arch in her chair and her fingers to tug hard at the hair of the man who’s working his tongue between her legs. It’s half three on a Wednesday, and instead of skimming through stacks of her clients’ contracts trying to find loopholes or go through the first set of Interrogatories once again before she sends it to the opposing counsel later today; she’s got her former-nemesis-turned-best-friend kneeling before her chair, her skirt hiked up around her waist and her knickers haphazardly pulled to the side. She lets out a groan, which only eggs him on, and he lashes his tongue against her even harder.

“Enough,” she mutters weakly, her voice barely audible and she’s not even sure if he even heard it. She pushes his head away from her, but the stubborn sod only swats her hands away while growling and doubles up on his efforts. She can feel him shaking his head as he licks and sucks away, slipping his finger deep inside her the second she closes her eyes and proceeds to bring her to another shattering orgasm in just under two minutes.

She slaps her hand over her mouth as she reaches her high again, and Harry looks at her with a satisfied smile, before licking his shiny wet lips without breaking eye contact. The sight alone is almost enough to make her want to shove his head back to where it was half a minute ago. “Feel better?”

“Mhm,” she hums happily and Harry’s lips quirk into a gentle smirk. “Thanks.”

“My pleasure,” he replies as he stands up, before leaning over to button their lips together in a quick kiss.

“I think the pleasure’s all mine, but let’s rectify that,” she mutters as she pulls away. “What do you want? You tell me and I’ll give it to you. Do you want me to get you off slowly or do you want to fuck my mouth?”

“Fuck,” he groans in frustration. “You’re gonna kill me here. I’ve got a deposition in- shit, two minutes. I’ve got to go now. Catch ya later doll.”

She shakes her head, chuckling as she watches him rushing out of her office. “Later, shithead.”

Isn’t it just funny how the universe works sometimes? Six months ago they couldn’t even be in the same room without having a scream-whisper match, but here they are half a year later, happily handing each other orgasms like sweets on Halloween. Harry didn’t even know exactly what was bothering her today. He just sensed that she was in a real mood when he swung by her office, so instead of splitting a packet of KitKats right on the dot at three o’clock like usual, he closed the door and switched on the panel by the door so the transparent glass wall turned translucent to give them privacy, and then he went down on her without saying another word.

The perks of being friends instead of foes with Harry is that she gets to find out that Harry’s oral skills are not limited to advocacy and sarcasm. And not to mention that he’s a very generous man. Sure, it’s not a trait particularly needed in a best friend and colleague, but fuck if that’s not something that is much appreciated. At first, obviously it wasn’t easy for YN to hang the white flag above her head. Her ego was badly bruised when the firm made Harry Senior Partner instead of her in the beginning of the year, making her feel that all the long hours and the all-nighters she’d pulled were all for nothing. She felt like she gave up her social life for nothing, basically put her life on hold for nothing and gave her all to her firm for nothing. She felt unappreciated, and the easiest target to channel all her anger and frustration was Harry. Because come on, who else was she supposed to be mad at? Her boss? It’d be like being mad at Gandhi.

It definitely got much easier when she finally let the resentment go, the fact that he was the one being promoted. Especially knowing well the reason was only because he came from a bigger law firm, and that he came bearing gifts—the gifts being five huge clients from his old firm—when he came into her firm earlier this year. She’s accepted the fact that him being promoted instead of her doesn’t mean that she’s not a damn good lawyer. Hell, she’s got a hundred percent win record to prove that. It was easier to hate him when she didn’t know him, but as they began working on cases together and she got the chance to get to know him more, she knew he deserved it. 

If you ask YN, she’d most likely tell you that having a work husband surely beats having an enemy in the office. She loves having Harry as her best friend, her most trusted legal confidant when she needs to strategise on a case and well, as an occasional lover on a bad day. He is her number one ally and advisor, the person she can laugh with and be stressed with, have politically incorrect conversations with, and give her bone-deep honest opinions to. He supports her and helps her with her cases—not that she needs help because again, she’s one hell of a lawyer, but it’s surely nice to have an extra brain in the case sometimes. 

Fuck, she really does owe Harry a good one tonight for giving her a nice distraction.

A ding sound from her phone brings her back to reality. She darts her eyes at her phone for a second, and she lets out a heavy sigh when she reads the name on the screen. It’s a text to confirm the dinner meeting tonight at The Berkeley, definitely one that she can’t avoid since he’s a huge client, but more importantly, one that she dreads to meet.

You see, there’s a large part of life that we call normalcy. Eat, sleep, take a shower. Wearing underwear inside our clothes instead of outside like Batman and Superman. The sun rises in the east and sets in the west. Most people drink coffee in the morning. Thirty minutes of cardio three times a week. 

As pathetic as this may sound, pining for Luke, that said client who also happens to be her ex-boyfriend has been YN’s normalcy for the past two years. Luckily, his company is her client and not the man himself so she got away with keeping contact to a  bare minimum. Meeting him only about two to three times a year and only when it’s absolutely necessary and cannot be handled by his General Counsel. But apparently, his step-father decided to retire and pass his hotel business to him—honestly, as if he’s not bloody minted already—and he needs her now more than ever because even though he knows his way around the business world, this whole thing is a new territory for him. 

This is the second time in a week that he’s arranged a meeting and only God knows how many more meetings with him she could take. Because, as always, his presence means the absence of her sanity. And she hates it.

Welcome to YN’s fucked up life.

***

“I still don’t know why you want me to go with you,” Harry says, turning to look at her when they stop at a red light. Even though it’s dark outside, the neon-blue lights from the interior electronics cast the angles of his face handsomely.

He’s driving both himself and YN to The Berkeley where they’ll be meeting Luke for a dinner meeting to discuss his new business and his plan to merge with another hotel group. Which is an absolutely terrible idea and YN plans to talk him out of it tonight. It’s probably easier said than done though, because she knows Luke and she’s definitely familiar with how stubborn he can be. 

There are a lot of things about Luke that she still remembers. He pretends to hate those mini chocolate muffins but he actually loves them. He drinks his coffee at six thirty sharp every morning, yes, even on the weekends. He loves jogging and sometimes he wishes he’s an athlete so that he can get paid just to run and play football all day long. Even though he’s rich as sin—and God, fit as fuck too—he’s humble and definitely not flashy, so if you see him without his suits, you’d probably never guess that he doesn’t actually need to work a day in his life because he comes from old money. But Luke is different. He never touched his trust fund and he was determined to create his own business from scratch.

He’d just started his business around the same time YN started working in her firm as an associate, so she saw it right before her eyes how hard he worked during those first few years as he nurtured his business. His company was one of the first clients that she’d been assigned to work on, and when she got promoted to Junior Partner, her mentor gave her The White Company as her first official client. The timing couldn’t be more brilliant since she and Luke just broke up two days prior, but she knew there was no way she could turn down such a big business.

Fuck, she’s thinking about him again. She immediately makes a mental note in her head to ask Harry for an extra orgasm tonight to keep him out of her mind. But now she can’t help snickering at the thought because she makes it sounds as if she’s asking for extra ketchup. 

“Cat got your tongue?” He asks and she turns to look at him. He gives her a tiny smirk before his eyes get back on the road, but he reaches his hand out to her bare knee to give her a squeeze. “Still haven’t answered me, doll.”

“Sorry- what did you ask?”

“Why did you want me to go with you?” He asks again. “He wants to merge, right? That’s totally your thing. You don’t need me.”

“You helped me with his crisis a few months ago,” she reminds him. “Just thought we could do his business together again. He’ll be happy he’s getting two partners, the firm will be happy because they can charge double. It’s a win-win, really.”

“Bollocks that,” Harry laughs. “Worst bullshit I’ve ever heard.”

“That’s all, honest,” she feigns innocence.

“Honey, I didn’t go through law school for nothing, did I?” He replies without moving his head, keeping his eyes on the road. “You’re using me as a human condom, aren’t you?”

“What the hell does that even mean?” She drops her jaw in shock at the fact that he calls her out on the carpet just like that.

“You’re afraid you’ll catch feelings again if you’re left alone with him, so you bring me as a shield. Am I right?” He asks her with an accusatory eyebrow raise. “You know what, no need to answer that. Of course I’m right.”

“I told you, he’s just a client now,” she insists, trying to ignore her heart pounding in her chest as Harry’s hand inches its way up her thigh. It’s incredibly arousing, but she also finds it a little disturbing since they’re having a conversation about a man she’s head over heels for. She almost want him to stop but fuck if she’s going to ask him.

“Look, I don’t know exactly what’s going on here,” he says, and it’s really hard for her to concentrate on what he’s saying since he’s squeezing her thigh. His fingers pressing deep into her muscles and she can only wish they’re a few inches higher. “But if in any way you want to get him back, just say the word and I’ll back away, yeah?”

“There’s nothing going on, Harry,” she reassures him. “You’ve got to trust me on this. He’s just a client now.” 

“You sure?” Harry asks again. Turning to look at her briefly before he pulls into a parking space and puts the car in park, but she can tell by the tone in his voice that he doesn’t buy a single thing she’s said.

“I’m sure,” she nods reassuringly.

Harry grins as he reaches up and tweaks her on the nose. “You’re cute when you lie.”

“Shut up, shithead,” she mutters as she pulls on the door handle. It opens and she steps out, taking a moment to smooth down her dress. Leaning back down, she looks inside the car to look at Harry and give him a wink. “Now let’s go. The sooner we get this done, the sooner I can reciprocate.”

***

“You have it bad for him, don’t you?” Harry cocks an eyebrow at her accusingly, not even bothering to wait until Luke disappears past the lift to take a call.

YN blinks in surprise at his accusation, but instead of denying it for the second time tonight, she finally concedes. “Is it that obvious?”

“Holy shit,” this time, it’s Harry’s turn to look at her in surprise. He definitely wasn’t expecting her to admit it, but fuck if he believed that bullshit she told him in the car. “No, it’s not obvious. But I know you better than anyone in this room.”

She chuckles, before taking a swig of her Chardonnay. “True.”

“I meant what I said earlier in the car,” Harry reminds her. “Just say the word and I’ll back away. He’s probably still into you too.”

She just stares at him for a second. She’s obviously contemplating something, he can tell. He braces, wondering if she’ll finally tell him to back away. He has to remind himself to be cool, to just nod and smile if she actually does say that. They’re not exclusive, and as amazing as this last six months has been, he knows all good things come to an end. He has no absolute reason to be upset, he knows that. And as her best friend he only wants the best for her. If she thinks Luke can make her happy, then so be it.

He’s ready for her to tell him to back away. He does. Not saying that he’ll be happy, but he’ll accept it. So imagine his surprise when she gives him a smirk and says, “let’s go all the way tonight.”

Harry’s head shoots up, and he narrows his eyes at her. “You fucking with me?”

“I was hoping you’d be the one doing all the fucking,” she murmurs, still smiling coyly at him and somehow has the audacity to dip her eyes in a completely fake showing of shyness.

Harry’s eight-inch piece of equipment that had been jumping and twitching like an excited puppy now goes to full mast, pushing hard against his zipper. He drains the rest of his drink in one big gulp, not wanting to waste any time. “Stay here and wait for him to finish that sodding call. Make up an excuse for me and distract him while I go and try to get us a room upstairs.”

“You do realise that my flat is literally ten minutes away from here right? And your place is like, what, twenty minutes tops?”

“Upstairs is closer,” he lowers his voice huskily. “They have beds too.”

Her eyes sparkle with excitement. “Beds, huh?”

“What? Don’t fancy shaggin’ on a bed?” He says with a smirk, sitting straighter as he smooths his tie. “I’ll see if they’ve got anything with a balcony then.”

“You’re a lawyer, aren’t you?” She mocks, rolling her eyes. “Does the word indecent exposure mean anything to you?”

“Did you just roll your eyes at me?”

“I did,” she challenges him with a spark of defiance in her eyes. “And what are you gonna do about it?”

“Do that again and you’ll get the palm of my hand,” he tells her ominously.

“You’re all mouth and no trousers, Styles,” she taunts him. 

“Good luck trying to sit tomorrow.”

***

In less than fifteen minutes, YN is standing in a lift with Harry’s lips roaming her neck and his finger sinking deep inside of her.

She didn’t have to make up an excuse when Luke went back to their table after taking the call. Apparently, there was some emergency and he needed to get back to his office as soon as possible for an emergency meeting with the boards. She assured him it was fine and that they could easily arrange another meeting to further talk about his plan to merge with another hotel group.

Harry doesn’t waste much time as he pushes the button to their floor and the doors close. He stalks towards her, cupping her head to bring her mouth to his, and his other hand going directly between her legs. She slips her tongue into his mouth and touches it against his, the vibe of the kiss turning a bit dirty. It’s a thrilling turn on, causing waves of pleasure to pulse through both of them. His tongue ends up dominating hers in the most searing, sexually explosive kiss she’d ever been given.

His hand softly fondles her for a moment, and then he’s inside of her, curling his finger in a way that has her knees buckling. He immediately saves the day by pushing one of his legs in between hers to hold her steady. He knows he doesn’t have time to get her off before they reach their floor, so he breaks the kiss and roams his lips along her neck lightly, moving his finger in and out of her leisurely but so very deeply. Her hips flex against him, trying to demand more, but she’s just going to have to wait.

When the lift starts to slow near their floor, he calmly removes his hand, smoothes her dress down, and gives her a light kiss on the nose.

He’s smiling at her as he closes the door behind them, in a completely relaxed, but thank fuck we’re finally doing this and I’m here to fuck you senseless kind of way, and it manages to show the two dimples he sports on either side of his full lips.

Their lips meet again as he leans in, softly at first, just a taste to whet the appetite. His arms tighten around her, and he increases the pressure, urging her to open up and let him in. He’s a force to be reckoned with in a courtroom, and fuck if she’s not thanking her lucky stars that he’s just the same in the bedroom. He moves his lips against hers, making delicious little thrusts and flicks with his tongue, teasing and tantalising, all while stroking her back in the most incredibly sensual way that makes her tingling from head to toe. 

He loves how she just melts against him when he rubs her back, and how adorably dazed she looks just from a kiss. Grinning at her, he reaches a finger out to tuck a lock of her hair behind her ear. The blood in his dick thumps, eagerly demanding to move things along, but he’s determined to take his time with her. 

Her mouth waters as her hands work at his belt buckle. His cock is thick and hard when she pulls him free of his boxer briefs, and she drops to her knees with her hand wrapped around his girth. It’s standing straight up before her after she releases it for a second, and she melts at the sight. There’s one perfectly thick vein running straight up the middle, but then it veers off at an angle. And although this is certainly not the first time she sees it, she can’t help but cock her head to the side just to see where it goes. 

He palms the side of her head with one hand and holds her hair in a ponytail at the back of her head with the other. Looking up at him, she can see his jaw is locked tight and his chest is rising and falling rapidly.

She squeezes him hard, just the way she knows how he likes, and strokes up and down a few times, making him groan. His head falls back, eyes squeezed shut. “Please, sweetheart.”

“Ssh,” she shushes him before she murmurs low in her throat. “I’ve got you.”

She finally opens her mouth, bares her teeth slightly, and then scrapes them lightly over the tip. A long, deep groan rumbles out of him, his eyes remain shut tight. Exhilaration and victory swells within her, knowing that just that one tiny touch reduced him to utter helplessness. 

He opens his eyes, gazing at her. His voice is thickened and gruff when he says, “you’ve got no idea how beautiful you look while on your knees before me.”

She responds to him by leaning in, and without hesitation taking the tip of him into her mouth, making him groan in relief. He grips her lightly, his fingers pressing into her scalp as a means of holding her steady and not to force action. She licks and sucks, squeezing and stroking him with her hand. He’s watching her from above with lust on his face, and she’s savouring every little groan she drags out of this normally stoic man. She flutters her tongue on the sensitive underside just below the head of his cock, her hand gently squeezing his balls as she works his shaft. 

“Been dying to get that cherry lipstick on my cock,” he mutters softly, she can barely hear him. He grits his teeth as he slowly pulls out of her mouth. “Knew that red lipstick would look good on me.”

Her eyes slide to his cock, and she has no clue what her mouth looks like, but she’s absolutely sure most of her lipstick is gone since it’s smeared beautifully along the length of his shaft. She tries to take it back into her mouth, determined to bring him into completion that way, but his hand immediately covers her, holding her still while his eyes pin her in place. “Wanna be inside you.”

He helps her stand on her feet, and the next thing she knows, her dress pools around her ankle. His hands come to the back of her bra, flicking it open and pulling it from her. Then he drops to his knees before her. Fingers going under her knickers, he pulls them down just enough to gain access and runs his tongue up her centre. 

He had fantasised about her naked before him more times than he could probably admit that he has to blink twice to convince himself that this time is real. And fuck if it isn’t much better than his dreams.

“Bed,” he commands, and she crawls on it with the intent to lay in a sexy pose as she turns over to face him, but he’s on the bed with her, quick as lightning, and flips her to her back.

Her eyes go up to find him staring at her tits, and she can’t help but joke. “They don’t bite, you know.”

His gaze comes up to meet hers, and his lips curve slightly. “But I do. It’s probably going to hurt a little.”

A shudder ripples through her, and her nipples harden. His eyes flick back down to her breasts. She swallows hard at the anticipation, the thought of him getting a little rough with them is thrilling, but there’s something else she wants more right now.

“I’m fucking dying to be inside you right now,” he whispers in her ear. His admission elicits a deep moan to escape from her lips. “Last chance to change your mind, doll.”

“Please just fuck me already,” she whimpers, her hands roaming his body. Every glide of her fingers over his skin fills him with a fullness he’s never experienced before. “I’m losing my mind.”

With one hand pressed into the mattress, Harry uses the other to take his cock in hand. He dips his hips, pressing the tip right into her entrance. Blowing out a breath, he brings his eyes to hers and holds her captive, finally thrusts deeply into her. She screams, not in pain but in pure fucking ecstasy, as he fills her up. Harry bottoms out, his pelvis pressed hard into hers. 

Baring his teeth, he mutters, “fuck… that feels good.”

“Would feel better if you move,” she suggests with a smirk.

Harry stays completely still inside of her. He breathes in deeply, closes his eyes for a moment, and when he opens them up again, he gives her a sheepish grin. “I’m afraid to move. Afraid I might embarrass myself and blow my load in about two nanoseconds.”

She lets out a giggle, pretty sure that’s the one and only time in her life she’s ever done something so girly. Harry laughs huskily and kisses her hard. He doesn’t move an inch from his waist down but just kisses her deeply with thorough possession. When he pulls away, he tentatively circles his hips, grinding into her.

“Fuck,” Harry mutters, and drops his forehead to hers. “Yeah… definitely not gonna last long.”

Her hands go into his hair and she massages his scalp, incredibly touched and turned on over his reaction to her. She tugs on his hair, pulling his face away from hers. “Harry?”

He moves reluctantly and looks down at her with that same abashed look. She tilts her hips, clenches her internal muscles around his cock, and then rubs her thumbs into his scalp.

“Let go,” she commands him softly. “Fuck me hard and come as fast as you want. We’ve got all night.”

***

Harry’s hand reaches out, tapping the screen on his phone to turn the alarm off, laying silently in the predawn gloom pondering about his situation at this very moment.

There’s a naked, beautiful woman on top of him, and fuck if he can remember when was the last time he woke up with someone else in his bed. It’s not that he’s averse to cuddles; if the woman wants a cuddle with him after sex, he’d give it to them. The act of intimacy like that doesn’t scare him whatsoever. But normally he’d be out of their hair long before the sun is up, leaving them to wake up alone and him to start his day as if the night before didn’t happen.

He always tells himself to forget whoever he shags the night before no matter how great of a fuck she was, although he’ll allow himself to bring forth the memories when he jerks off if needed. 

YN fell asleep a few hours prior, spread-eagled over his body right after she collapsed from the most recent fuck-fest. She came, he came, then she fell forwards onto his chest and was out like a light. And he left her right there all night. Letting her lie on top of him, calling it a day well completed and went to sleep himself.

His hand slides down from her stomach right between her legs, his fingers swiping through her folds which become slicker with desire the more he plays. She softly moans in her sleep and her lower body starts to squirm. Her breathing hitches, and the second she cracks her eyes open, she gives him that happy, sleepy, please fuck me again smile. 

He gently eases her down from the top of his chest to lay beside him, rolling her to the side so her back is facing him. Then he pushes her outer leg up, sliding his body down just a little bit, angling his cock to slip into her from behind. 

Harry moves slowly as he’s spooned around her and she moans in pure bliss as he fills her up. The arm that her head is resting on comes up to curve across her chest and hold her tight. His other hand grips the back of her thigh firmly to pin her in place.

“More,” she whispers on a forced exhalation. 

“Fuck me,” he mumbles against her hair. “My girl wants more.”

And he gives her more. Fucking her exquisitely and with no doubt that neither of them has ever had it that good. He takes her higher and higher, the sweet words that he’s whispering in her ear is the complete opposite of the kinky shit they did last night. 

“Balcony?”

YN didn’t hesitate, following right behind him as he pushed the doors open. A light breeze filters in but it’s still muggy outside. They’re on the seventh floor, and they can still hear the rumble of engines and the honking of horns below them. The quiet darkness of Belgravia stretches out beyond.

Harry walked up to the edge of the balcony, which was made of stone and concrete, sitting about three and a half feet high. He pulled her into his arms and gave her a searing kiss. She moaned, slipping her tongue in his mouth and gripped onto his shoulders. The kiss was deep and wet, and honestly, the best kind of kiss.

He pushed her up against the wall, laying a palm over one breast. Squeezing, plumping, testing the weight in his hand. He rubbed a thumbnail over her nipple, eliciting the softest sigh from her. 

He brought his other hand south. Straight shot, right to her centre. Her head dropped to his shoulder as his fingertips continued to circle and rub against her. Within minutes she had his fingers deep inside her and his thumb working her hard. He wanted nothing more than to just line up and push his way in, but he waited. He waited until he saw her trembling became a little fiercer, her body tensed, and when she sucked in a large gulp of air, he knew that was his cue.

He quickly removed his fingers, bracing his hands on her hips and slammed forward. She took him all the way in and he cursed under his breath as he felt her spasm all around him when she came. For a second he thought about hitting it hard, chasing another orgasm, but then he decided against it, wanting to relish the scenery and listen to the sounds of the city.

“Let’s just quit our jobs and fuck all day,” Harry jokes as he drops her leg back down into place.

“Sounds good to me,” she laughs as she reaches around him, grabbing the complimentary bottle of water on the nightstand, taking a sip before she hands it to him and he finishes it in a couple of long swallows. 

“Thirsty?”

“Starving too,” he replies in a way that doesn’t make her think he wants some bacon and eggs. 

Within seconds, he has her on her back again as he slides down her body, roughly pushing her legs apart. Her hands shoot out, grabbing the sides of his head before he gets the chance to descend even lower. “No.”

“What?”

“Let me get cleaned up first,” she says lamely, pretty sure she’s killed the mood. “I mean… I’m filled with-”

Harry ignores her, cutting her off by dropping his mouth right between her legs and begins sucking. She shrieks from the warm contact, surprised by how sensitive she is, and as he lifts his gaze to hers, he murmurs. “That’s you and me together, and we taste fucking delicious.”

Her body trembles from his words, and through a dry and parched throat she croaks, “then by all means.”

“Thank you,” he says with a wink, then proceeds to bring her to another shattering orgasm that totally wrecks her.

[snackhobi]

pairing: min yoonji x reader / word count: 9.7k / genre: f x f smut, assassin!au

summary: a fic inspired by this post and that’s pretty much it-

warnings: sexually explicit content (NSFW), talk about death/assassination (nothing graphic dw! but they are assassins, so), mild violence, unnecessarily sexually charged lipstick application, face riding, fingering, multiple orgasms, oral (f giving/receiving), use of restraints, overstimulation, squirting, kind of dom!yoonji?

a/n: this is an entirely self-indulgent fic I wrote as a gift to myself for my bday, it’s a lil rushed bc I wanted it done for today! women are so very beautiful and I am so very weak, thank you ladies for all being so amazing ily. this was meant to be a short pwp and now it’s almost 10k but I have no regrets bye

--

la petite mort French literal meaning: ‘the little death’; also an expression used to refer to the brief loss or weakening of consciousness, specifically the sensation of orgasm as likened to death; an orgasm.

--

“It’s just unacceptable.”

The woman in front of you is clearly wealthy. Her dark hair is perfectly styled and her pale nails are perfectly shaped and her subtle makeup is perfectly flattering; she’s starting to get older but rather than shy away from it, she’s leaning into it, and she looks almost imperious in her beauty, eyes sharp and set of her lips severe. Park Dahye was born into wealth and has clearly thrived in the life that she’s been afforded.

“Mmhm.” You try not to yawn. 

“He’s flitting around with some young, silly thing on his arm, with no consideration for the family’s reputation— my reputation,” she continues. Her posture is perfect, from the set of her spine to her crossed legs to her folded hands that rest on her knee, somehow demure and yet highlighting all of her beauty and riches; the jewellery on her wrists and fingers, the expensive heels on her feet, the slit of her haute-couture dress, no doubt tailored for her and her alone. “I’ve already spoken to him about his behaviour, but he’s just ignored my warnings. We may have agreed on the divorce but we’re currently still husband and wife— has he no shame?”

“Awful.” You don’t even try to hide how bored you are, but Dahye is so quietly incensed that she doesn’t even notice as she launches into the next part of her queenly diatribe, and you muffle a sigh.

That’s the problem with rich clients. Sure, they’re willing to fork over stupid amounts of money to you, but they also think that their issues are of paramount significance— like they’re the centre of the universe and their problems are the only important ones in the world. Like you’re interested in what they have to say. Like this is the only job you’ll ever do that holds real weight or meaning.

For them, it’s a life-changing (life-ending) decision. 

For you? It’s another Tuesday.

“Yes, yes, that’s just so terrible, gosh, I don’t know how you manage it,” you say once she pauses to take a breath, using the opportunity to cut her off before she launches into another part of her articulate rant. “Anyway. Would you prefer if his death was embarrassing or quiet?”

For the first time since you’ve met, she seems unsettled. “Pardon?”

Namjoon is much better with people than you, smooth and charming with his boyish dimples. Normally any discussions would go through your handler, but this woman had demanded to meet you personally and had been willing to pay for the privilege: so here you are, with your relative bluntness instead of Joon’s winsome smile.

“You know,” you say, gesturing with your hands. “When they find the body. Do you want him to be caught with his trousers around his ankles—literally or figuratively, that’s up to you— or would you rather it seemed like something natural and unpredictable? Like a sudden heart attack in his sleep, for example.”

When it comes to rich clients, a lot of it is about reputation. When someone’s shuffled off this mortal coil, it’s not just that they’re removed from the equation, it’s also about the ripples that their death leaves in the high society that they’ve lived in. Does she want her (soon-to-be) ex-husband made a mockery of, or does she just want him out of the picture?

She can’t see your face, behind your mask as it is, but you can see hers in perfect clarity. For all that Dahye seems put together and almost impassive, you see the tiny flicker in her eyes. Ah. She’s not just mad because he’s ruining their reputation. She’s hurt.

Man, that sucks. Honestly you bet it’s easier being an assassin than a rich housewife. At least when it comes to backstabbing you can literally involve a knife to sort your problems out. (Well, knives are messy, but you get the picture.)

“I’d prefer something quiet,” she decides. “I’d worry that it could lead back to me, otherwise.”

You’d be offended at the idea that you’d leave any trace that could implicate anyone or that this man’s sudden death was in any way suspicious, but she’s paying you enough that you find that you don’t care. You take pride in your work, but for the amount of zeroes involved in the fee you’re being paid, you think you can take an unintentional insult or two. Or three. Or ten.

You like money, what can you say.

“Sure thing,” you say, giving her a lazy, two fingered salute. You’ve been reclining against the desk of the hotel suite, flicking the complimentary, heavy metal pen between your fingers, twirling it like the world’s most underwhelming baton. You straighten up and let the pen drop back into the pen pot—wait, no, of course it’s a handmade porcelain jar, an alarmingly well-made Joseon porcelain replica. Everything in here stinks of money. “RM will confirm where the money is to be deposited. Half of it now as collateral, and half upon completion of the job,” you say. “If you change your mind between now and then, we’ll be keeping the original 50%, but if for some reason something goes awry, you’ll receive that money back. Sound good?”

She seems surprised at your directness. “I—”

“Fabulous!” You clap your hands together, although the sound is muffled by your gloves. You’re not about to leave your fingerprints everywhere, geez. “Alright, time for me to skidaddle I suppose! I’ve got work to be doing, people to be watching, men to be killing!”

Dahye flinches imperceptibly, but by this point you’ve already slipped out onto the balcony and into the night.

--

Being an assassin is hard work.

Technically, everyone has the capacity to kill another human being. But killing as a job involves a lot more than just caving someone’s head in with a rock—that’s why Cain isn’t referred to as an assassin, what with how he’d just bashed his brother Abel with a convenient stone that happened to be lying nearby. He was just a straight up dick.

No, when you kill professionally you need to be familiar with an array of different techniques, each one far more sophisticated than the last. You need to know how to be stealthy, how to blend in as you watch your target, how to set up the scenes of their death in a way that doesn't arouse suspicion. Or, instead, how to set the scene up in a way that lets any onlookers know that this person had been offed by someone who knew what they were doing, and knew it well. There's a difference between being a killer and being an assassin and you are firmly in the latter category.

So, if your client wants her husband to be shuffled off quietly, then that’s what she’ll get.

They really have pulled out all the stops for this charity gala. Everything is shining, glittering and bright: the surroundings, the food, the people. Especially the people. The rich elite have come together for an extravagant and exquisite night of ostentation and luxury, all in the name of raising money for some needy cause. (You try not to think of the irony and/or hypocrisy behind that.)

It’s almost laughable how easy it is to blend in here. Namjoon had secured (forged) invitations for you both, and so you hang off his arm as you make a slow sweep of the room, trailing unnoticed after your target. You’re not planning to make a move right now but you want to feel out exactly what he’s like: the more information you have about the person you’ve been contracted to assassinate, the better. 

Plus it’s an excuse to dress up nice and eat free food— though that last part is mainly Namjoon.

“God, these canapés are so good,” Namjoon moans quietly to you, hoovering up the flaky pastry crumbs from his fingers with single-minded intent. You dig your fingers subtly into his arm.

“I thought we agreed on not eating tonight, Joon,” you mutter to him, although you say it with a beatific smile in case anyone is watching; the place is heaving with people but you’re always on guard. (Even if Namjoon is right. The hors d’oeuvres that are on offer do look incredibly tempting.)

“You have a glass of champagne,” he points out.

“And you may have noticed that I haven’t drunk any of it.” You titter, as if he’s just told a funny joke, and lightly slap his arm. Again, you’re fairly certain no one is watching, but you can never be too careful. “It’s all about creating a facade, Joonie. It’s what we in the business call a ruse.”

Even throughout your back and forth, you’ve kept your eyes on your man of the night: Park Minjae, a middle-aged businessman who’s been greeting people and getting swept up in conversation, all while a slip of a blonde clings to his arm, stuck to his side like a pretty limpet. She’s cute, sure, but she lacks the poise that Dahye has, so you frankly don’t get it. Then again, not everyone finds strong women as attractive as you do. Weirdos.

You’ve been focused on Minjae but your eyes have also been flitting around the room, drinking in your surroundings, drawing up a detailed map of your environment (of course you’d scoped out the building before tonight, but with all the banquet tables and chairs around the layout is a little different). The people, too, have been subject to your scrutiny, although so far they all seem summarily unimportant and uninteresting, just as you’d suspected. You lift your glass to your lips and pretend to take a tiny, demure sip, glancing up through your eyelashes to scan the room again, and you freeze.

Holy shit.

You take back what you just said about everyone being unimportant and uninteresting. 

The woman who’s just walked in is fucking stunning. Her sleek dark bob is unstyled, but perfectly frames her beautiful face: sharp eyes, soft nose, flushed lips. Her cocktail dress lets you see almost every inch of those perfect legs, the line of her thighs to her calves and— oh, you swear you could shed a tear of joy. She’s already tall and she’s made even taller by the heels she wears, towering above most of the men here, a fucking Amazonian goddess who looks powerful and undeniably elegant at the same time. 

(Thank you for your service, tall women.)

You don’t know who she is, but goddamn, do you want to. She’s scanning the room, and for a brief moment, your eyes touch. A tiny thrill shudders up your spine at the darkness of her keen eyes, that quick and astute gaze. 

It’s only the tiniest of moments that’s over as soon as it’s started. The dark-haired beauty looks away and is already disappearing into the crowd before you realise, and it’s only then you notice that you’re staring, utterly drawn in by her cool poise and presence. You’ve been frozen in place with the rim of your champagne  glass resting against your mouth, and your eyelashes flutter as you blink and glance down.

The imprint of your lower lip has been left on the glass, stark red visible against its edge, and you squeeze Namjoon’s bicep.

“How does my lipstick look?”

He takes one look at you as he swallows down another tiny vol-au-vent. “Like half of it is missing,” he says, and you frown.

“Ugh. I’ll go touch it up in the bathroom. Keep an eye on our guy, I’ll be right back.”

It’s not until you’ve made it to the toilets that you realise that you do not, in fact, have any lipstick in your ridiculously small clutch bag. When it comes to your actual work, you’re meticulous and thorough and well-planned, but for some bizarre reason, a tube of lipstick is never the top of the list when it comes to equipment. Unbelievable. (You knew you should have worn the 24/7 stuff, but it was always such a nightmare to get off.)

You’ve been so busy rummaging through your bag that you’re completely caught off-guard at the sound of a quiet voice from behind you.

“Lost something?”

Oh, fuck. It’s her, your dark haired and dark eyed beauty, meeting your gaze through the mirror when you glance up from where you’re resting your bag against the marble counter  (marble, marble, marble, it’s all marble: the floors, the counters, the sinks; why do rich people always love marble?). She looks altogether too amused at your plight and at how your eyes have widened perceptibly upon seeing her again. But can she blame you? Her presence is so graceful and commanding and she’s so dizzyingly attractive it’s insane. Surely she must get this all the time.

You stare for a little longer than is probably polite, and even behind her fringe you can see how one of her eyebrows rises.

“Sorry for staring,” you say once you notice. “You’re just so beautiful.”

She pauses as she takes in the compliment. You see how her eyes flicker over your face and settle on your mouth; your upper lip, tinted burgundy red, while the lower is faint and smudged.

“Lipstick problems?” She cocks her head at you, still staring at your lips in the mirror. God, she’s so hot.

“Can you tell?” You sound rueful as you glance down at the reflection of your mouth, touching your bottom lip lightly with a fingertip. “I forgot to bring any with me so now I’m stuck.”

She finally looks away from you. You hear a small, metallic click as she unclasps her evening bag— marginally larger than your own— and lifts out a small tube of liquid lipstick. “Would you like to use mine?”

Fuck yes you would. 

“Oh, would that be alright?” You finally turn around, and you have to tilt your head back to look at her, taller than you in her heels. Jesus Christ. She’s going to be the death of you. Why are women so gorgeous? Who gave them the right? “I’m not sure the shade will match, though?”

You watch her beautiful mouth curve up into a small smirk as she pulls out a tiny pack of makeup remover wipes from her bag, and you swear could propose to her there and then. Beautiful and tall and organised? Holy shit. What a woman.

She’s got her bag in one hand, while the lipstick and wipes are clasped in the other; her hand is held up in such a way that you think she means for you to take them from her, but when you reach out she shakes her head.

“I’ll do it for you,” she says. The quiet note of authority in her tone makes you go weak at the knees.

Thank god the toilets you chose aren’t the main ones, because it means there’s no one around to see how she tilts her head at the marble counter in the universal gesture of get on there. It’s entirely unnecessary, but you, of course, immediately comply. You brace your hands against the cold stone before hitching yourself up, careful with the draping folds of your dress; the cold touch of the stone is noticeable through the material of your dress, but it’s instantly forgotten when your enchantress steps closer. 

You spread your knees so she can stand between them. Holy shit, she’s even better up close. Her lashes are wispy but they’re the perfect frame for her gorgeous eyes, which are dark and intent. You suppress a shiver. You hold yourself still as she leans forward and around you so she can put her clutch and lipstick down, trying to ignore how close she is, but there’s no way she can’t realise what she’s doing. Your heart is pounding. You wish you didn’t have a job to do tonight because you would so much rather be getting, ah, acquainted with this woman rather than following some old businessman around.

The only noise in the bathroom is the sound of peeling plastic as she opens the tiny packet of wet wipes before she curls one around her finger, glancing at you through her lashes.

“Open,” she instructs.

Your mouth drops open immediately. She sweeps the wipe over your lips, bottom, then top, touch firm but careful, drawing away the red from your skin; you stare at her as she works, how her eyes are cast down as she stares at your mouth. She’s using her free hand to grip your chin and you feel deliciously powerless in her grasp. 

You purse your lips a little to try and help her, watching the way her eyes flicker as she pulls the wipe back over them— somewhat firmer, this time, with more intent. Lingering. The only barrier between her finger and your mouth is soft and flimsy, the texture of the wipe against your lips like cotton as it drags across them, and it would be so easy to pull it out of her hands.

She flicks the dirtied wipe aside, heedless of how it lands on the unsullied marble, before reaching for her lipstick. She twists the tube in her fingers, motions of her hands precise and deft, and you’ve never been so attracted to how someone’s uncapped something before. 

You watch her hands. (She watches you.)

Your eyes trail over the wand as she pulls it out, dragging the doe foot against the rim to catch the excess before turning it towards you, putting the tube by your thigh, near where your hand is bracing against the marble. She takes hold of your chin once again. You stay quiet as she starts to sweep the lipstick over your lips, painting them the same flushed pink as her own. Once again she’s staring at her work so you’re free to drink her in, almost drunk from her beauty, eyes catching on the tiny moles on her pale skin, the smallest freckles that are only noticeable because you’re this close.

The squelch of the applicator sliding into the tube is almost lewd in the silence of the bathroom, and this time you can’t suppress a shiver when she pulls your chin down to open your mouth so she can go back in again on your lips, drawing a sharp, crisp line. Tracing the edges of your lips, the flushed swell of them, the peak of your cupid’s bow.

She glances up. For a moment you’re both still, staring at each other, tension in the air palpable, but then she smacks her lips and you copy the motion, evening the application of the makeup on your mouth. 

“Perfect,” she murmurs. “One more step.”

A small, confused frown flits over your face. She’s put the lipstick aside but then she lifts a finger and points towards your still parted lips. You take in a small, shuddering breath when she speaks again and you realise what she means.

“You don’t want to get lipstick on your teeth, do you?”

Both of her eyebrows have risen and she’s looking at you like you’re being silly if you disagree with her.

“No,” you say. You’re not about to deny her. “No, I don’t.”

Your eyes remain locked. You lean forwards, taking that perfect, long finger into your mouth, dragging your lips upwards so that any excess lipstick is caught against her pale skin, a ring of deep rose circling her bottom knuckle; you curl your tongue around her, hot and wet, feeling the crease of her knuckles and pad of her fingertip against your taste buds as you slowly, slowly pull away. 

It’s undoubtedly indecent and risqué and you can feel the flush of arousal settling in your lower belly, an almost embarrassing flush of wetness leaking out of you at the taste of her skin. She, however, remains unmoved, although she lets her finger linger just for a moment on your bottom lip, almost rough against their softness— but before you can swallow those fingers back down and ruin her meticulous work, she pulls away, lifting the discarded wipe to sweep it around her finger, catching the lipstick you’d left on her skin.

“Done.”

She steps back and you feel like you can finally breathe, a breath so deep you can feel how your lungs fill, oxygen rushing to your brain so fast you feel lightheaded. You watch as she sweeps everything back into her bag, clicking it shut with a note of finality; the sullied wipe is cast carelessly into a tiny, chrome bin with a flick of a wrist, her every motion regal.

You slide off the counter. You still can’t take your eyes off her and you don’t want to. It feels like whatever heaviness was in the air has dissipated, gone in an instant with a turn of her head— normally you’d let it slide, even if you feel disappointed, but she’s just so magnetic. 

“Thank you,” you say. You can see yourself in the mirror now and to your complete lack of surprise, your lipstick is perfect. The shade is lighter than one you’d have chosen for yourself but it’s beautiful on her, of course.

“You’re welcome.” She’s in the middle of washing her hands, but she glances over her shoulder at you, and the firm set to her face lightens a little as she smiles. It’s a small, sly thing, and you realise with a start that she knows exactly what effect she has on you.

I’m coming back for you, you think to yourself. You have work to do tonight, but—

“What’s your name?”

She pauses. She shuts off the tap with a quick motion, reaching forward for a rolled hand-towel, a neat stack on a metal tray nearby. You wonder if she’s not going to answer but then she speaks, looking at you instead of the soft cotton she’s rubbing over her skin. “Yoonji,” she says. “I’m Min Yoonji.”

Min Yoonji is the most gorgeous fucking woman you’ve ever seen.

“I love your dress, Yoonji,” you say, and it’s true, you really do— but you’d prefer it if it was off. Not that you’re about to say that, of course.

She lets out a breath of laughter. “I know.” Oh, god, you love confident women. “What’s your name, darling?”

You have that same split second of hesitation, similar to Yoonji’s only moments prior. You use a codename when you work, of course, and you have a plethora of fake identities that you use and are intimately familiar with— but the idea of your real name falling off Yoonji’s flushed, petal lips? Woof.

“Y/n L/n,” you say. 

Oh, Joon would be so unimpressed right now, giving some mysterious woman your full, real name just because you think she’s the sexiest thing since sex, but whatever. What he doesn’t know can’t hurt him.

“Well, Y/n,” Yoonji says. You were right, your name sounds so good falling from her mouth, the mouth that’s turned into a small, almost smug smile. “I certainly hope to see you at the charity ball in a few weeks?”

“Of course.” Your schedule has been magically cleared and you’ll definitely be in attendance for whatever ball Yoonji is referring to, even if you have no idea what it is. You only come to these things if you have to for work but for Yoonji you’ll make an exception. You’ll make a hundred thousand exceptions. A hundred thousand quinquagintaquadringentillion exceptions. “I’ll make sure to remember my lipstick next time.”

And there it is, the thing that seals the deal, the final nail in the coffin: Yoonji glancing at you out of the corner of her eyes, a sharp, dark touch that shoots through you as her smile edges into hunger.

“Don’t worry,” she says. “I’m sure it won’t stay on your lips long enough to matter.”

--

The thing you’ve discovered about Minjae is that, with his divorce due to be finalised soon, he’s apparently lost any sense of routine and is revelling in his new found freedom, which is kind of irritating when you’re trying to tail the guy. Sure, you’re still going to take him out, but you prefer it when targets have some sort of schedule that they adhere to— makes it easier to set up a kill.

“You’re certain that he’s going to be here tonight?” You’d been sceptical considering how the guy’s apparently thrown his schedule out of the window, but Namjoon had been certain.

“Positive.” He’d said. “He’s there every Tuesday night. You’ll have plenty of time.”

The house appears to be deserted. The driveway is empty and all the windows and doors are locked tight. It’s just one of the properties that the Parks own in the city, and for all its size and lushness it appears as though this one is rarely frequented; you imagine that the cleaners and gardeners spend more time here than the owners themselves.

It doesn’t take you long to evade the watchful eyes of security cameras to pick a lock and slip inside. You're grateful for the dying evening light that helps cover your tracks from any onlookers from the street, although you imagine the high walls do good work at preventing people from seeing into the grounds anyway.

There’s still enough light to navigate through the house, the golden tinged sunset casting warm shadows across the spotless furniture and fixtures; you take a moment to let your eyes slide across a huge canvas hanging on a wall that spans two storeys, some impressionist piece that’s surprisingly ugly for all the talent that’s obvious in its brushstrokes. Maybe that’s why the Parks are never here? You’d certainly try to avoid seeing this thing if you could. Eurgh.

Even though the building is empty, you’re careful as you start to make your way forwards. You always place your toes down first whenever you take a step, soundless as you start to map the house out in your mind; there are so many rooms you can hide in, but you’d prefer to be close to wherever Minjae ends up. Saves faffing around later. 

You’ll overpower him, inject the toxin into his blood and wait for him to die before setting him up on the toilet— it’s surprisingly common for people to die while on the shitter, the strain leading to an untimely heart attack, especially in older people. The poison you’re using tonight will mimic the symptoms of a heart attack in the case the coroner decides a post-mortem needs to be undertaken.

(Being found on the bog might not be a particularly graceful way to die but when you’re dead it’s kind of hard to be embarrassed.)

You’ve eased the door open into a large bedroom, and you’re just inspecting if it looks like this room sees more use than the others when you pause. It’s deathly silent in this building, the air still minus where you glide through it as you move, but there’s a feeling in your gut, some instinct that makes all the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. You freeze, ears straining to catch any noise to let you know if there’s someone else here, when—

There. In the reflection of a burnished pot, the tiniest shifting movement.

You react almost faster than the eye can see. You spin to parry a hit that was aimed for your head, and the strength behind it shudders through your arms. You only have a second to take in the details of your assailant— dressed in dark clothing, masquerade style mask in place, a professional just like you— before you’re deflecting another flurry of blows, flipping backwards out of reach before spinning into a kick, hooking that burnished pot with your foot and sending it flying towards the other assassin.

They dodge it. You both ignore the sound of clattering metal as you lunge forwards, trying to catch them off guard after their sidestep— your fist makes contact with their palm instead of their face, your hand engulfed in theirs, and you startle at their speed. You might not be the strongest but you’re damn fast. 

There’s a pause, and you can only see a slither of their eyes through the sockets of their mask, but you can tell that they’re impressed. And honestly? So are you. 

The moment shatters when they use the hand they're holding to twist you, locking an arm around your neck and putting you into a chokehold; they’re strong, stronger than you, cutting off your airflow. You need to get out of this before you fall unconscious, but if they’re trained as well as you then they’ll know how to combat the usual ways you’d use to get out of this.

So, in a demonstration of your flexibility you kick a leg up, using the strength of your thighs and calves to slam it into the arm that’s around your neck. Your assailant lets out a noise of surprise and pain as you slip out of their hold and cartwheel across the room before spinning to face them.

There’s a beat. The air is tense. You get another chance to take in the details of whoever’s just tried to choke you out; you stare at her as she stares at you, the two of you poised and ready to strike, watching and waiting. 

Knives might be messy but of course you’re not unarmed. You have multiple sheathed weapons in your clothes, though you don’t make a move to draw any of them. Yet. “I suppose you wouldn’t tell me who your employer is, would you?”

Your opponent tilts her head. “You don’t know?” She sounds amused, even through her mask. “Minjae took out a contract on the assassin who has a contract on him.”

Your lip curls back from your teeth. The only way Minjae would have heard about your contract is if Dahye had told him. Presumably to try and shock him out of his behaviour, or something, who knows. “This is the last time I’m accepting a job from these rich old farts,” you mutter. 

“That’s for certain,” she says. 

She starts to move and you catch her arm just as she goes to unsheathe a wicked looking blade, knocking it aside before she overpowers you and you start to wrestle. It’s messy and graceless but sometimes you just have to fight dirty. 

Whoever this woman is, she still has the upper hand because she was expecting you and you weren’t expecting her; she knocks you onto the bed and pins you down, swooping the knife up from where it had been thrown onto the mattress. You go utterly still as she holds it against your throat, towering over your from where she’s straddling your waist and kneeling on your arms. Any sudden movement from you now could lead to your untimely demise— and, unsurprisingly, you absolutely want to avoid that at all costs.

Namjoon would never let you live it down if you were killed on the job.

You hum. “It seems like we’ve reached an impasse.”

She doesn’t respond. The knife doesn’t dip any lower, though; you’re undoubtedly at her mercy but you notice she’s careful to keep the knife still, hovering above the skin of your neck, but not making contact.

“Well,” you continue. “At least I’m going out the way I’d always hoped to.”

Even in the dying light and with how her face is covered, you notice her face shifting behind her mask— a silent, questioning raise of an eyebrow. You give her a cheeky smile that crinkles your eyes.

“In bed with a beautiful woman, of course.”

At this she huffs out a laugh. “Do you flirt with every person who tries to kill you?”

You’re trying to look as non-threatening as possible to keep that knife away from your jugular. The longer you talk, the longer you live, even if you can’t see a way to get out of this situation right now. “Only the pretty ones.”

The small laugh she lets out this time seems more like a scoff. “You don’t even know what I look like.”

“Please.” You roll your eyes. “Any woman who can fight like you and knows how to handle a knife? Automatically hot. I don’t need to see your face to know that.”

The knife still hasn’t moved. She continues to stare you down and you go tense when her free hand moves. She tugs the cloth of your mask down to reveal your face, the air of the room almost cold against the suddenly bared skin, your breaths free to curl out unhindered.

“Usually I like to be taken out to dinner at least once before we get this intimate, but for you I suppose I’ll make an exception.” You’re still grinning cheekily at her, but your mind continues to race as you try to think of a way to get out of this, especially now that she’s seen what you look like—but you suddenly notice that she’s gone very, very still.

“Y/n?”

The grin freezes on your face. Oh, you’re so boned. You’re so very boned. Like, yeah, you’ve been seconds away from death for the past, hmm, five minutes, but this is somehow worse. How the fuck does she know your name?

You’re given the answer almost immediately. She withdraws the hand from your chin and reaches for her own mask. Your eyes widen and your breath stutters in your throat once you see who it is.

“Holy shit,” you breathe.

Yoonji is staring down at you. She’s every inch as imperious and stunning as the last time you’d seen her— hell, even moreso now that you’ve seen what she’s capable of. No wonder you hadn’t been able to find out anything about her after you’d met at that garish charity gala. Because she’s untraceable, just like you.

“Well.” You stare back at her, not even attempting to keep the surprise off your face. “If anyone has to kill me at least I can die satisfied in the knowledge that it was you. Can I make a request? I’d be eternally grateful if you smothered me to death with your thighs. Just a suggestion, feel free to ignore it if you want.”

Yoonji cocks her head. Her bob is tied back, but there’s a loose lock of hair curled by the side of her face that shifts at the motion. Your fingers twitch. If she wasn’t kneeling on your arms you know you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from tucking it behind her ear. Any excuse to touch her. “Do you always talk so much?”

“Hey, if it means I get to feel your legs around my face before I die, I’ll give a full fledged TED talk,” you say. “I have to admit, though. When I pictured us in bed together I didn’t think it would be like this.”

The knife still hasn’t moved from your throat. She continues to stare, as if considering what to do next, though her face remains impassive. “What did you think it would be like?”

“Well, you know. Less knives and clothes involved and a lot more making out,” you answer. “You, telling me what to do. Me, entirely at your command. Anything the lady wants, she gets.”

The human body is a fickle and strange beast. Ever since you discovered who’s straddling you, you’ve been growing wetter and wetter, even if you’re trying not to let on that you’re steadily growing more aroused— you’re still distinctly aware of the knife that’s only centimetres away from your skin, but somehow your body is more focused of the fact that the woman you’ve been daydreaming about is finally in front of you again. 

(Well, less in front of you and more on top of you, which is an admittedly preferable option, sans the knife involvement.)

You see how Yoonji’s eyes are darting over your face. No doubt taking in how your pupils are dilated, how your breaths are a little shallower, quicker— signs of fear and signs of arousal are surprisingly similar. You wonder if she can identify which it is. Probably. You’re not exactly very subtle in your attraction to her.

“I forgot my lipstick again,” you add, and Yoonji’s passive mask finally breaks when she rolls her eyes.

“Didn’t I say you wouldn’t need it?”

Even the way she throws the knife aside is gorgeous. The sharp undulation of her wrist as she sends the blade skittering across the polished wood floor is careless and fluid. Her hands cup your face as she bends down, and you send up a mental thanks to any god or higher being who might be listening before Yoonji presses her lips to your and your brain goes blank.

Apparently Yoonji likes it messy. One of her hands is grasping your chin in a mockery of the last time you’d met and she’d painted your lips— your mouth is open and she licks past your lips as you shudder beneath her. She’s still got her knees pressed into your arms, pinning you down, but you desperately crane your head towards her, chasing that kiss; you tilt your head to deepen it, and the whine that leaves you when she pulls away is almost embarrassing.

The sun has finally dipped below the horizon and the room is dark, painted in shades of grey and deep blue. You wish you could see Yoonji properly and you can’t help but wriggle a little underneath her, but then you watch her raise her hands and clap three times in rapid succession before the room floods with dim light. Sound activated lights? Damn.

Yoonji’s mouth shines, covered in a sheen of your mixed saliva, her pretty lips flushed rose pink; even without makeup they’re beautiful and their colour is deep, the blooming petals of a flower. Your eyes trail over her face, down her neck, over the fall of her chest and stomach— you’re both far too covered up in these stupid ensembles of yours and you want to strip the clothes off her. You want to see every inch of her beautiful, majestic body, bared for your lips and hands.

Fuck, she’s so gorgeous.

“Not to, um, ruin the moment, but my hands are going numb.” The weight of Yoonji’s body being pressed into your arms has pretty much cut off the blood flow to your fingers and you can feel the telltale sensation of pins and needles spreading through your skin. “Can I have those back, please?”

Yoonji lifts her knees just enough for you to slide your arms out from underneath them. You immediately shed your gloves and go to grab her ass but she gives you a sharp look and you freeze, slowly settling them on her thighs instead, which she allows with only the slightest raise of her eyebrows.

“Watch,” she commands, and who are you to disobey?

She reaches for the tie in her hair, tugging it out and letting her dark locks fall to frame her lovely, beautiful face. You hungrily swallow down each sight that she feeds to you, the skin that’s revealed as she shrugs off her layers of clothing. She unbuckles the weapons hidden underneath her clothes as she sheds them; she’s a veritable arsenal of firearms and knives, all cast carelessly aside until her upper body is finally, blessedly naked. You’ve been staring at her the whole time, the graceful column of her throat, the delicate lines of her collarbones, and your gaze falls to her breasts, small and perfect, nipples dusty pink and hard. You want to put your mouth on them.

“Holy shit, you’re perfect,” you say.

She smirks. You watch as she rolls her body, lifting up from her knees and standing up, towering above you on the bed—your hands fall to the mattress as she pulls her trousers down, tight material dragging against her skin as she slides it over the curve of her hips and down her long legs. There’s a dagger strapped to her thigh, which she unbuckles and lets fall to one side, but god, if she used it to kill you right now, you would die a happy woman. The image of Min Yoonji towering above you in nothing more than some flimsy underwear is one you want to take to the grave.

You can see how the material around her entrance is darkened with her arousal, and you feel your own body react to the sight, pussy throbbing, your own lower lips slick underneath all your layers of clothing. Yoonji hooks her thumbs into her panties and pushes them down, and you’re enraptured as you watch how the wetness clings to them, before that last bit of clothing is cast aside too. 

You moan, unable to stop the sound bubbling up in your throat. From how she’s standing above you, legs spread from how her feet are either side of your hips, you can see everything—how her cunt is flushed, how wet she is, her folds shining. You bet she tastes so fucking good.

You let your mouth fall open, tongue lolling out in a way that’s obscene. You see Yoonji’s eyes flicker as she traces the motion, the way she takes in your expression: wide, hungry eyes, parted lips, wet tongue. Your hands skim up the back of her calves as she shifts forwards and returns to her knees, her naked core so, so close to your mouth, and you dig your fingers into her skin.

“Bon appé-fucking-tit,” you murmur, and then you pull her onto your face.

Yoonji gasps. 

(You were right. She tastes so, so fucking good.)

You’re utterly shameless as you slurp up her juices, the wetness that continues to leak out of her as you bury your face into her cunt, tongue lapping over her entrance as your nose brushes her clit. Your hands have moved to the flesh of her ass and you encourage her to grind against you, rolling her hips towards your greedy mouth; you’re staring up at her, drinking down her reactions, the way her face twists with pleasure and the shuddering breaths she takes in, perfect little breasts jumping at the motion. There’s a flush spreading down her neck and chest, pale skin blushing pink, and it’s the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen.

You purse your lips against her clit, circling it with your tongue before dipping back down between her folds. Each time you breathe in all you can smell is her scent, heavy and dark, all your senses filled with Yoonji, Yoonji, Yoonji. When you hum against her, Yoonji arches her spine and throws her head back, so when you press your tongue into her you hum again, letting the vibrations shiver through her.

“Yes,” she gasps, rutting against your face. “Yes, yes—”

Her thighs tighten around your head. You redouble your efforts, watching her face as you continue to swipe your tongue up her slit and through her folds; you wish you could swallow each of the noises that are falling from her lips as she reaches the crest of her pleasure, the little gasps and moans each time you move your tongue in a particularly wicked way.

“There,” she says. “There, there, just like that—”

Your jaw aches but you don’t even register it, too intent on keeping your mouth open and hot and wet against her. It only takes a few more swipes and flicks of your tongue before she shudders violently, canting her hips towards your mouth as her legs go tense and she cums. She continues to straddle your face as she rides out the waves of pleasure, and you swallow down the wetness that flushes out of her rippling cunt, ignoring the throbbing between your own legs.

You can’t talk, muffled by her as you are, but your mind is singing. Look at you, you think. Look at how gorgeous you are. God, I could eat you out all day. (What a blessed life that would be.)

You can tell when Yoonji’s edged into oversensitivity, jolting when your tongue sweeps over her swollen clit; she settles back, knees spread as she rests against your heaving chest, legs tensing each time an aftershock shivers through her. Your mouth is open as you pant in air, but she watches as you swipe your tongue over your lips, catching the lingering taste of her on you, your chin opalescent with her arousal.

“Okay,” you say, breathless. “I’ve done everything that’s worth doing. I’ve peaked. Everything is downhill from here. You can kill me now.”

You’re only half joking, but your thighs instinctively go tight to rub against each other when you see how Yoonji’s eyes darken.

“I’m not done with you yet,” she purrs.

Yoonji might be naked while you’re still clothed, and so still armed, but she’s undoubtedly the one who’s in control right now. You are so, so okay with that. You watch with wide eyes as she shifts back, her hands grabbing the material of your jacket to tug you upwards, but before she can strip off your clothes you capture her lips with your own.

The taste of her is still heady and deep in your mouth and you nip at her bottom lip before pressing your tongue forwards. The kiss is already slick from Yoonji’s wetness and when you pull away, there’s a thin string of saliva that connects you for a moment before it breaks, which Yoonji wipes away from your chin with the pad of her thumb.

“Dirty girl,” she says, and you bite back a moan at the unabashed lust in her voice. Her grip on your chin is firm. “Did I say you could kiss me?”

“No,” you answer. “I couldn’t help myself.”

She tuts, as if disappointed, and every one of your nerve endings feels electrified, ready and anticipating whatever Yoonji is going to do next. “Such a shame,” she says. “You just can’t keep your hands or mouth to yourself, can you?”

“Can you blame me?”

Yoonji huffs out a laugh through her nose. She strips your jacket off in one sharp motion and then your shirt is similarly pulled off with single-minded intent, along with every other piece of equipment cinched to your arms and body. When you reach for her, though, she captures your wrists, her face stern.

“If you keep moving without permission, I’m going to take that privilege away from you.”

You don’t have to see your own eyes to know how your pupils will have dilated from that statement, blood thrumming through your veins, and you can tell Yoonji has noticed when her expression shifts.

“Oh.” A small, triumphant smirk appears on her face. “I see.”

You lift your arms up so she can pull your sports bra off (of course if you had known you’d been running into Yoonji again you would have worn something nicer). Rather than touch your heaving chest, however, she pushes you down onto the mattress, a hand around your wrists so they’re held above your head.

“Keep still,” she says.

She reaches for the holster that you’d had around your upper arm, lazily casting the knife aside before looping it around your wrists and pulling it secure.

Yoonji’s fingers ease under the nylon as she checks the fit. It’s tight, but not so much so that it’s painful or dangerous, and there’s a hushed moment when the realisation hits you— Yoonji and yourself are both skilled enough to know that you could easily free yourself if you wanted to. It would only take a little motion of your wrists and hands and you could slip them out of the makeshift cuffs in an instant.

You melt into the mattress. Yoonji’s eyes shift away from your wrists as she takes in the way you’ve gone utterly relaxed and limp below her, staring back at her. You see an expression flit across her face faster than you can see, before she slides down your body so she can push your legs apart.

You lift your hips to help her strip your trousers off. Her hand lingers on the concealed holster around your thigh, eyeing the small pistol nestled inside it, before that too is stripped off and cast aside. Her hands trail over the soft skin of your hips and stomach, eyes skimming over the bared length of your body before settling between your legs, the slickness of your inner thighs.

“You got this wet just from eating me out?” Her pretty mouth is curled into an expression that’s almost mocking, and your legs jolt as she runs her fingers lightly over your lower lips before rubbing her fingertips together to feel the wetness she’s gathered. “I haven’t even touched you yet.”

Your nails dig into your palms as your hands twist against each other and you shift your legs further apart. “Please, Yoonji,” you plead, shameless from desperation and arousal.

She laughs at your obvious hunger. “I suppose I should return the favour, shouldn’t I?”

You watch breathlessly as she lifts her fingers to her lips, swallowing them into her mouth to get them slick and wet. The motions of her tongue are languid as she licks across her fingers. You’re like a livewire, thrumming with electricity, and the sensation of her finally sinking one of those fingers into you sends sparks throughout your body.

Yoonji’s maddeningly slow. Your body takes her readily, her long finger gliding easily in and out of you, but she makes no move to speed up; you let out a small noise and she moves upwards to kiss you, as if indulging you, and you’ve just relaxed against her mouth when she plunges a second finger in.

She swallows your gasp as her fingers speed up, before she starts to kiss across your jaw, your neck, between the valley of your breasts and then closing her mouth over one of your nipples— she times the flick of her tongue with the thrust of her fingers, and then you feel how she takes her thumb to press your clit at the same time and you’re gone, falling over the edge faster than you’d expected. Your orgasm is fast but deep, your walls clenching tight around the fingers that continue to curl in and out of you, but she doesn’t stop.

“Yoonji,” you gasp. “It’s too— oh—”

Those two fingers continue to rub your sweet spot as you edge into oversensitivity but Yoonji doesn’t let up. She continues to lick and bite at the skin of your chest, putting her mouth to your other breast and circling the hardened bud of your nipple with her tongue before kissing down your stomach, your pubic bone, and then pressing her lips to your swollen clit.

You whimper. Her pace of her fingers has quickened, and she curls them each time she almost pulls them out, the squelch of their motions obscene as they slide through the cum of your first orgasm. She stares up at you, lapping at your clit with her tongue, and you can feel the saliva that’s dripping from her mouth and over your flushed core, every inch of you oversensitive but screaming with pleasure.

It’s almost painful, but you can feel an orgasm creeping through that ache; you wring your hands together and sob as Yoonji continues to finger fuck you without mercy, her pace almost bruising, the thrust of her knuckles against you each time she bottoms out just one more layer on top of that overwhelming pleasure.

“Yoonji,” you gasp. “I’m g-gonna cum again.”

She hums against you, and you make an incoherent noise at the feeling of that sound against your clit, almost too much— and then she presses one more finger into you, and that’s it, that slight burn and stretch sending you hurtling over that edge again. When you cum, your hips buck and you gasp, air rushing into your lungs before it escapes you in a moan of ecstasy; the only sensations registering in your mind right now are the ripples of pleasure spreading through your cunt as Yoonji pulls her fingers out of you, pressing down on your clit in a way that’s almost cruel, and you sob as your legs instinctively try to tighten but are prevented from doing so by Yoonji’s unyielding presence.

She’s staring down at you as you start to go lax, and you think she’s finished with you, but you watch with widening eyes as she takes her ring and middle finger to run them through your sodden folds. You sob again when those fingers plunge back into you, palm pressing against your clit each time she curls her fingers, and you squirm underneath her.

“Yoonji, it’s too much,” you cry.

“One more.” Yoonji’s leaning back and staring at you, taking in the sweat that’s beading across your skin, the tears that are gathering in your eyes and threatening to spill down your face and into your hair. “You’re doing so well, darling, you can give me one more, can’t you?”

Your reply is incoherent, a small noise that shudders out of the back of your throat. You’ve never been thrown so thoroughly into pleasure like this, overstimulated and aching, but there’s that flicker of pleasure still between your legs, growing each time Yoonji beckons with her fingers, curling over your abused sweet spot again and again and again.

“Just say the word and I’ll stop,” Yoonji says, the wet plunge of her fingers into your abused pussy so messy and loud but not enough to drown her out. “One word and I’ll stop.”

You don’t say anything. You just let your eyes roll back into your head as you cant your hips towards her, trying to latch onto that thread of pleasure that’s thrumming through you below all your screaming nerves, and the noise Yoonji makes is pleased.

“There we go,” she praises. “Look at you, so good for me. Pretty darling.”

You can feel how your pussy clenches around Yoonji’s fingers, how the coil in you is squeezing tighter and tighter, how another orgasm is somehow creeping up on you— you tilt your hips towards that feeling, towards Yoonji’s hand, and then she’s pulling her fingers out of you in an almost rough motion and you’re cumming harder than you ever have before.

“Oh, fuck!” You sob. 

It’s indescribable. The sensation rips through you as your back arches off the bed and you’re cumming and squirting and gasping and you can feel the wetness that slicks out of you, your toes curling as your brain goes blank from the staggering pleasure and static consumes every one of your senses. Your entire body feels like nothing more than a vessel for the ecstasy that’s shooting through your veins, spreading out from your core and to every corner of your insides and limbs.

It takes you a while to come back around, aftershocks wracking through your body. You feel sluggish and slow as your mind slowly clears, focusing on the sensation of warm hands stroking over the skin of your stomach and hips and thighs; your eyes flutter open and when you glance down you can see the shine to Yoonji’s skin, evidence of your pleasure painting her in a thin sheen of liquid.

“Oh my god,” you moan. “Holy shit.”

She smiles. “You were so, so good for me,” she says. She leans down to press a light kiss to collarbones and you shiver. “So beautiful. How are you feeling?”

“Like I’ve died and gone to heaven before coming back again,” you reply. “Oh, that was so good, Yoonji. I’ve never squirted before. I didn’t realise I could. God.”

Yoonji laughs lightly. You can’t help but watch the way it transforms her face, the way her chest jumps at the motion, every inch of her gorgeous and majestic and cute and pretty. “You did so, so well,” she praises, before she kisses you, her mouth so soft; you barely notice the sudden easing of pressure around your wrists as she releases you, more intent on the sensation of her soft petal lips against your own.

You stare up at her as she pulls away. Powerful, amazing Min Yoonji, kneeling between your legs, naked but not helpless. Definitely less vulnerable than you right now. And yet she’s still making no moves to grab one of the many weapons littered around the bed so she can finally finish her contract by completing the kill. It would be so easy for her.

The silence of the room is suddenly broken by a tiny buzzing noise. You both glance over at the sound, one that Yoonji doesn’t recognise but you do— the communicator in one of your wristbands, the one you use to keep in contact with Namjoon.

You watch the twisting of Yoonji’s body as she leans over the bed to hook the band with a finger before proffering it to you. You pause, but then grasp her wrist and lightly pull so she ends up pressed against you, softness of her breasts against your own, and you hold the communicator between your faces as you accept the call.

“Thank god you answered.” Namjoon’s voice is obviously frantic even through the tinniness of the small speaker. “Dahye cancelled the contract because Minjae wants to reconcile with her, but apparently he’s already put a hit out on you— tonight was a ruse, Minjae isn’t going to be there, you have to get out of there—”

“Bit too late for that,” you interrupt. Yoonji’s hair is tickling your cheek. “Don’t worry. I have it in hand. Send some flowers to Minjae for me, will you?”

“Flowers?” Namjoon sounds understandably confused. “Why?”

“As a thank you for taking out a contract on me,” you say. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m a little busy.”

“With what?”

“With me,” Yoonji says, and you hear Namjoon’s surprised intake of breath before you cut the line.

You end up laughing to yourself. “Oh, he’s going to hate me for that,” you giggle. Yoonji’s hand trails up your stomach and you continue to giggle at the ticklish sensation. Her skin is still slick against yours, and you suddenly realise how cold it is in the room, the air touching the cooling liquid that’s rubbed off against your skin, and you shiver. “Mm. I think it’s time to clean up. Want me to scrub your back in the shower? I give very good massages.”

Yoonji’s eyes are dark and warm before she presses her nose to your neck, lips soft as they touch the delicate skin of your throat. “I’ll be the judge of that.”

[woniepop]

girly girls

Pairing: Kang Taehyun x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.3K

Warnings: bullying, cursing

Genre: slice of life; fluff; angst

Summary: Three times a popular girl and a nerd were enemies, and one time where they weren’t

a/n: this fic was inspired by my all time favorite movie, Legally Blonde. I enjoyed writing this fic and I really hope you enjoy reading it :)

Y/N L/N has never been someone who liked to be cast in the shadows. Always being the center of attention, y/n has become one of the, if not the most, popular girls in her town. Homegirl is always dressed like an icon even when doing mundane tasks. Girls like her have never really been into anything “nerdy.” She associates herself with more of the bimbo kind, if you will. It was never really a secret, but she studies incredibly hard to get the chance to go to her dream school and become a great computer scientist. Being in such a large friend group of female fashion icons, there was never really anyone who wanted to talk about topics with math or computer science. 

Kang Taehyun, however, is this awkward and incredibly smart boy. Never really associated with popularity, he’s only had about four friends in his life and absolutely no dating experience. He’d always been one to shy away from attention. At most times, he found himself quietly observing others. All this, and he’s still what you would consider the teacher’s pet. He gets all his assignments done, A’s on every test, and raises his hand for every question. As a computer science enthusiast, he has worked his butt off his entire life, filling his schedule with robotics clubs, different languages of code, and coding camps. Senior year was his year. He had finally got into his dream school, TXT Tech, and had already created a very very detailed plan for the future.

Currently, Y/n’s mother was constantly trying to persuade her about fashion school. Having an incredibly fashionable mom wasn’t always the best for situations like these. TXT Tech results were coming out, and even though Y/n was confident she was getting in, there’s still the chance she might have not. Nervously waiting in front of her laptop, she sits impatiently refreshing the page for her results. Within one sentence she hops up from her chair in awe. Obviously attending the school was going to be a big turning point for her, and she was so excited to have been admitted to TXT Tech. 

As Y/n got settled on campus, she finds no one else that looks like her. Obviously, because she stands out, all attention is drawn to her. She’s confident, stylish, and hot. In a sea of gray and tan business outfits, Y/n wears a nice pink pantsuit. She’s relishing in all the attention, not seeming to mind that it’s not good, because she knew she looked good. 

Her first encounter with Taehyun couldn’t have gone worse. Walking to her class, pink drink in hand, she struts confidently to the lecture hall for her computer engineering class. Not paying attention to where she was going, she bumps into a tall figure. This clearly wasn’t the best way you could go about your first day, but all Y/n could do was apologize. 

“I’m so sorry, sir. I didn’t see where I was going and-” she rambled. Pausing in the middle of looking up, a very handsome and slightly awkward boy stands there, obviously pissed off and very annoyed. He scoffs and continues on his way to his next class.

Her second encounter with Taehyun was not great either. Clicking her high heels against the floor, she walks to her first class of the day. She had to get there early, she always had to sit in the front of the class. Taehyun on the other hand, nose buried deep in his book, walks directly to the middle. Despite loving programming, he could only handle so much attention. The class had started off well for Y/n, reviewing the class syllabus of “Principles of Programming Languages.” Taehyun, however, was pissed. He had not been called on once and was so frustrated. 

“Y/n, can you tell me the five most commonly used languages of code?” the professor asks smugly. Y/n knew what he was doing. She was being set up. She knew he thought she didn’t know and that lit a fire in her. 

“Python, Java, Javascript, C#, and C” she answers confidently. Hearing this, the professor nods his head. He wasn’t expecting that. 

Taehyun saw this as a perfect opportunity. His hand shoots up and he comments, “Sir, that’s actually incorrect. C++ is actually more popular because although C  has served as the foundation for writing languages like Python and Ruby, C++ is a newer language of code and therefore is compatible with more technology.” Taehyun confidently looks down to wear Y/n sits and smirks. Of course she wouldn’t know that. She’s only the popular rich girl that got in with Daddy’s money. She didn’t actually know anything, right?

It had been a few months since school had started, and finals were just about to come around. For this class’ final, they had to submit a partner project and code a simple game. At this point, it had been very blatantly established that Y/n and Taehyun were enemies. They despised each other. Always competing with each other in class, snickering when the other person got annoyed. It was a silent war between the two of them and everyone could feel the tension in the air. Obviously, it was no surprise they always came up at the top of the class, interchanging the first spot every test. What was surprising, however, was seeing their names together on the partner project roster. 

Taehyun was furious. College was supposed to be his bitch, but now he’s acting like Y/n’s bitch. He was so pissed off. Computer science was supposed to be where he had the upper hand. The one place he could feel himself. Where he was finally better than the stupid popular kids. And yet, he’s here, competing with one of them. It wasn’t fair. She was a girly girl, she wore bright colors everyday, she even had a sparkly notebook. How was she so smart? There was no way, it’s just the laws of the universe. You had to choose between looks and intelligence. That’s just what the gods above said. There’s no take backsies. 

It’s no secret that Y/n is a fashionable girl and having a female centric hobby isn’t really something applauded at this university. Knowing of Y/n’s insecurities, let’s talk about Taehyun’s. Having always worn non adventurous, boring, clothing, he’s known from the very beginning that Y/n’s beauty has helped her in life. Life is never fair, and it shows. Taehyun never ever got those advantages, and now here he is competing with someone just as smart as him. 

 As his jealousy grows in the back of his mind, he decides to use this time to take revenge. The next few days are spent typing away in the library, collaborating and researching for hours upon hours. Knowing that this project was worth 40% of their grade, they spent all their time trying to make this game perfect. 

The day of the presentation of their near perfect game rolls around and Y/n was confident. She had spent countless nights coding this with Taehyun and on her own. Starting the presentation off, Taehyun pulls up a game completely different to the one Y/n coded with him. “In this day and age, gaming has become a hobby more popular than it’s ever been. With platforms like twitch and youtube, all different types of games can catch the eyes of a wide audience. With this in mind, I’d like to present to you Jackbox Party Pack 8. Roleplay games have become the genre of choice for many gamers to play, and viewers to watch.” 

This was not the first person shooter Y/n had coded with him. What was he doing? Y/n stood there, not really knowing what to say. Opening and closing her mouth, she couldn’t form any words. She should have known this was a set up. “Ms. L/n, please continue.” The professor says. She couldn’t. She felt like she was frozen. She was so embarrassed and she should’ve seen it coming. With cheeks welling up in her eyes, she runs out of the classroom. 

With a smirk, Taehyun continued on, explaining how the game worked and how he had coded it. He had spent the past few nights coding it by himself and he was incredibly proud. Paying no mind to Y/n, he stood tall and smiled throughout his entire presentation. Obviously, like any normal person, guilt started growing quickly in the back of his mind. He finally realized he had fucked up. 

Running after Y/n, Taehyun felt incredibly guilty. He had taken the competition too far, and now he’d made someone innocent fail a required class. After running for what felt like hours, he found Y/n crying under a tree. He knelt down and offered her some tissues. Aggravated, she smacks the tissues away and tells him to leave.

Y/n, on the other hand, felt so angry. How could he do this to her? She hadn’t done anything wrong, and if he didn’t like the way she dressed or the way she conducted herself that was fine. All she needed was her to believe in herself and that got her into TXT Tech. While thinking about all the ways she could end Taehyun, she feels arms wrap around her. They’re 🤮Taehyun’s. Before she can rip his arms off, he speaks up. 

“Look Y/n, I’m really sorry about that whole thing I pulled back there. I’ll talk to the professor and give him the real project. I really took it too far and I’ll do anything to make it up to you.” He begs. 

“Um,, no? I don’t care? That was literally so embarrassing. If you really wanted to make it up to me you’d leave me alone.” Y/n pushes him off her harshly and storms off. How dare he? It probably took his two seconds to come up with that half assed apology. This was unbelievable. 

Y/n started trudging through the grass back to her dorm. All she wanted to do was take a warm shower and cry in her bed. She hated everyone. She wanted him to suffer just as much as she did, but she couldn’t do that. 

After two whole days of sobbing in her bed, she decided she was craving her signature pink drink. She really didn’t feel like going out, but delivering one drink would cost like $15. Y/n throws on a casual pink outfit. It’s very different from what she wore at the beginning of the school year, but the one thing that never changed was the color pink. Even in her depressive mood, she still wanted to dress up. She felt most comfortable wearing stylish clothing, that was her home. 

Stepping into the store, she sees Taehyun sitting at a table alone. You know when you see old people sitting along and you feel so bad for them you start tearing up? Like what if they lost their spouse or something :(((((. So anyway, Taehyun gives her lonely old people energy and regardless of what he did to her, she decides to keep him company. 

“Hey, um, can i sit here?” Y/n asks. Taehyun was so surprised. She wanted to sit with him? But he was so mean to her? He nodded his head and sat quietly. The past two days she could tell Taehyun had done a lot of thinking. She could tell he did it because he felt threatened. That wasn’t enough to forgive him, but at least she was being nice about it. 

Taehyun gets up and leaves. He comes back with a pink drink in hand, maybe as an apology. “I really want to apologize to you again, Y/n. Yesterday I don’t know if you saw, but the professor graded the actual project instead, and I had told him everything and that I’d deserve it if he failed me instead.” Y/n wanted to be happy but she wasn’t. She didn’t want him to fail after helping her code the game with her. Maybe she was so nice to him because she had matured, or maybe because she felt something different in Taehyun. Even so, a little embarrassment, she thought, wasn’t enough to cause a person to fail their whole class. Holding his hand on the table, she nods, a silent way she decided to forgive him. 

“Well, at least we’re not the worst team. I think group 7 coded a Niki Minaj roblox world.” Taehyun jokes. 

She laughs. “That’s so funny, what the heck? I guess we just have some hardcore barbs in this class.” People like Taehyun and people like Y/n were never meant to be friends in the first place, but maybe now they were starting to. Y/n, who was always challenging the term “girly girl.” Who always stressed that you have to believe in yourself when the rest of the world is against you. Y/n who became successful, without changing who she was. Y/n, who was feminine and wanted to show that was never a weakness. And Taehyun, who was always unadventurous. Who was never into fashion but still managed to pull off his nerdy outfits with his cute face. The passionate Taehyun whose only hobby seemed like studying. Gossiping for hours at the cafe, they realized this. They were starting to become friends. No one ever expected them to even be able to hold a friendly conversation, but here Y/n was, challenging everyone again. 

[hawkland]

Destiel fic recs (round #4) + commentary

Time for another (mostly) Destiel fic rec round-up post before my bookmarks get out of control! This one’s a mix of longer and some shorter fics (or series thereof), no particular theme except I guess a lot of angst, hurting Cas, and all the other things that tickle my Id. Several Season 9 human!Cas divergence fics, plus some later season angst-fests and rewrites.

In the Shadow of your Wings by Enochian Things (Salr323) (52k) The first of two fics by this author which I absolutely fell in love with! Canon-divergence from the end of Season 11. Cas finds himself blasted to Naples, Italy by the banishing sigil in the bunker and he stumbles — almost literally — into a sexy, delightful Italian Man of Letters, Luca. When he makes his way back to the bunker and finds Dean still alive, he tries to confess his feelings but Dean panics and shuts him down. Cas goes back in Italy soon thereafter and ends up beginning a relationship with Luca, much to Dean’s chagrin. Meanwhile Sam is still missing and it turns out there may be some dangerous individuals who are out for Cas more so than even the Winchesters. 

I loved everything about this fic so much - Luca is an amazing OC, the Naples and London locations are wonderfully evoked and took me straight back to places I’d been. The angst, the pacing, the plotting and the eventual Dean/Cas getting together are all amazing and this is definitely on my re-read in the future list.

The rest of my recs below the cut!

My heart is beating from me by Enochian Things (Salr323) (55k) The other fic by this author that I literally inhaled in one day! Season 9 Human!Cas canon divergence. It’s been months since Sam and Dean have heard from Cas, and when they do, it’s in the form of a wedding invitation. Cas is getting married to Daphne - the woman who “rescued” him and named him Emmanuel when he’d lost all his memories post-Leviathans. It seems Cas went back to her while on his own and they’ve rekindled their relationship...whatever it is. Dean just knows something isn’t right about her, so he sets out to investigate and try to figure out WTF Cas is doing before it’s too late. 

This story is so, so good! The case Dean gets Cas to come along on is unique and provides a neat investigation subplot, but what’s so especially wonderful is the explanation the author gives of who Daphne really is — and why she’d been so cool about just having a strange man with no memories move in to be her “husband” (and then want to marry him for real a couple years later, after he’d vanished from her life!) In fact it’s so brilliant I’m basically accepting it as my Daphne headcanon from now on and I don’t want to spoil it. The fic is also great in exploring Cas still struggling with understanding human emotions, customs and etiquette, Sam is A Very Good Friend, and Dean is, well, Dean. (I’m just sad this author hasn’t written more SPN fics because what they have is just brilliant.)

The wilderness. by orange_crushed (8k) Wonderful, shorter Season 9 canon divergence fic by an author who consistently makes me happy. Human!Cas leaves the bunker with a few things to get off the ground from Dean and directions to connect with Garth...but he ditches that plan to try to find his way on his own. It’s wonderfully detailed about the basic struggles of survival, finding work, making ends meet and trying to make some new friends...and why it’s important for him to prove he can make it on his own before he’s willing to welcome Dean (back) into his life.

I Through My Window See by deHavilland (26k) This is an interesting one, written well before we had canon human!Cas in Season 9. Canon-divergence in which Cas remains human after they avert the apocalypse in Season 5. Sam and Dean set him up in an apartment in Sioux Falls and then...just kind of abandon him there. He spends most of a year just barely existing before a visit from Sam finally stirs him out of his inertia and depression, to eventually get a job and also start hunting on his own. This is an interesting read, if just to see an author exploring the idea of human!Cas abandoned by Dean a few years before it actually...ended up becoming canon! I love how Cas is written in this (it’s a story much like the next one on my list that I thought does an amazing, realistic job of capturing what depression feels like), but I do have some issues with Dean. It’s never fully resolved or explained why Dean was being such an ass so I honestly wasn’t totally sold on the ending - I wanted some more out of Dean, some more explanation or apology or something. It’s a story that would have been great to have a sequel from Dean’s POV but after all this time, that will just have to exist in my brain, I suppose! Still worth a read because it’s excellently written, Cas becomes totally bad ass again by the end and it’s always fun to read early SPN fic speculating on future developments.

I Shall Not Want by domesticadventures (20k) I found myself inhaling a bunch of wonderful short ficlets by this author the other day, but this is the one I had to stop at to rec. It’s another Season 9 divergence fic, of a sort - Cas is newly human, for the sake of the story there’s no Abbadon to worry about, Sam is healed...and Sam wants to move out and get on with his own life. Cas and Dean are both struggling with adapting to their new lives and it’s a hauntingly rich and stark portrayal of depression, inertia, and the slow healing process of accepting and adapting to change. I also liked that this story gives us a Dean who is a little more aware of his feelings for Cas and they both struggle to reach out to each other - for once it’s not sexuality causing a crisis of identity but all the other shit they are coping with.

Don't Sing Love Songs by ireallydidthistomyself (17k). I’m not normally a big fan of baby/toddler!Jack fics - I like the angst that he was forced to grow up too quickly, and in general I’m not big on kid!fic in fandom. This author’s work is a big exception to that. They’ve written several stories along a similar theme: Cas raising Jack on his own/in secret for years, Dean only finding them or coming back into their lives later on. But this is the version of that idea that really packed the most punch for me and was incredibly emotionally satisfying. Dean finds Cas after 6 years, where he’s kept Jack mostly isolated and safe from the world. But with Dean allowed back into his life, Cas may be inviting grave danger upon Jack as well. This one ripped my heart out but managed to make it all better by the end.

Better Ways to Kill Our Time by always_a_birthday_girl (8k) I don’t know why I torture myself reading Dean-in-the-Ma’lak-box AUs, but I do. I think because it’s pretty much my biggest nightmare/horror and for some reason it’s cathartic while terrifying? Anyway here’s one where Dean goes through with his plan, Cas crashes and burns for most of a year, until Dean finally starts doing what he promised he wouldn’t: praying to him. Cas figures out a way to communicate back and over the distance, they manage to have certain conversations they should have years before. It’s painful but lovely and there is a happy ending, so it’s well worth the read!

Time Flows Like Water and We're Drowning by triedunture (7.9k) A little break from the later-seasons stuff I (mostly?) read, featuring a seriously hot (but angsty) Cas/Endverse!Cas/Dean threesome. When Zacariah’s plan to show Dean the future doesn’t change his mind about taking on his “responsibility”, he sends Endverse!Cas back in time to try to convince Cas instead, showing him what he’s to become. I don’t think Zac expected it to turn into a threesome, but it’s hot and beautiful and sad and wonderful all at once. 

hachikireru by vaudelin  (23k) At one point I went on a wallow-fest of reading a bunch of sad 14x20-15x03 divorce-arc fics. Just to hurt myself more, I guess. I know this fic’s been recced around a lot (at least on fail_fandomanon) and I can see why! After leaving the bunker, Cas ends up in Sioux Falls to visit Claire. She’s busy tracking down leads to find Kaia’s killer and he decides to go along with her on one such hunt. But what they find is an unexpected supernatural threat targeting those with broken hearts. Well. I think you know where that might be leading. This is a wonderful casefic with lots of character moments between Cas & Claire and then Cas & Dean, working through their pain and angst and just...it’s a very satisfying read.

Moriah Codas: A Trilogy by Toomanyfandoms99 (11k total) A series of 3 shorter fics spinning off the events of 14x20, developing a slightly divergent universe the author’s written where Cas does have his wings back and has helped resurrect a few of the angels (Balthazar, Gabriel, and Samandriel in particular). This series is absolutely heartbreaking — Cas is completely broken by Jack’s loss, has “fallen out of love” with Dean after he was ready to kill Jack, and sees no way back to what he’d had and felt before. He’s determined to just let the Empty take him...but not until he and his assembled squad of “avenging angels” clean up the mess Chuck has created, smiting zombies and taking out super-powered monsters across North America. 

Cas’s motorcycle gang/angel squad is so fucking awesome (I want a happy fic where they do this!) and this is BAMF!Cas at his finest. I just have to include a quote:

He set down the empty glass, and Gabriel said, “well, dearly beloved, we have gathered here today to kick some zombie ass. Since they have chosen to amass in Carthage, we are here to take out as many as we can without causing this town to flip the fuck out. Are we in agreement?”

“I expect,” Balthazar grinned, “a full-on bar brawl. Do not disappoint me.”

“Cassie, Driel,” Gabriel addressed the duo, “how are we with weapons?”

“I have enough machetes in a storage facility uptown to film a Jackie Chan movie,” Castiel said.

But it’s also utterly and completely heartbreaking, so don’t read this one if you need a happy ending. If you do read, check out the author’s other later-season coda fics and fic series as they are all really great.

to mend what is not broken by gothyringwald (2.6k) This last short one I’ve mentioned before, but I just have to rec it again! It was my gift for the 2021 Hurt Comfort Gift Exchange and it’s everything I wanted, and more. Sweet and caring Dean, wounded but still prideful Cas, and some lovely wing!kink/wing!care that pushes all of my button just right.

Anyway, that’s it for now as I think this is long enough. If you enjoy my recs, could you let me know? I try to not just list titles but give some commentary...as it helps me re-find stories I enjoyed the most, too!

[zi-i-think]

Request Prompt List

*Disclaimer* Some of these prompts are from Pinterest, some inspired by social media and tv/movies, and most of them are created by me. I have no problem with other creators using my list.

You can find my prompt list with the hashtag #zi prompt list

How to request:

In my asks

Tell me the universe and character (characters not included in this list are fine, but I do reserve the right to refuse to write for a character for any reason).

AU (optional)

Prompt (max of 3)

Any information about the reader (Gender, Hogwarts House, appearance, etc.) I will write the reader as y/n unless otherwise specified.

If you want any specific plot or event, just let me know. Whatever isn’t specified will be left to me and my creative freedom.

Characters

Harry Potter Series

Fred Weasley

George Weasley

Harry Potter

Ron Weasley

Hermione Granger

Luna Lovegood

Ginny Weasley

Bill Weasley

Fleur Delacour

Remus Lupin

Serius Black

James Potter

Lily Evens

Regulus Black

Merlin BBC

Sir Leon

Morgana

Arthur

Genevieve

Merlin

Sir Gwaine

Sir Elyan

Marvel

Bucky Barnes/ Winter Soldier

Carol Danvers/ Captain Marvel

Thor

Natasha Romanoff/ Black Widow

Sam Wilson/ Falcon/ Captain America

Scott Lang/ Ant-Man

Steve Rogers/ Captain America

Valkyrie

Vision

Wanda Maximoff/Scarlett Witch

Xu Shang-Chi

Xu Xialing

Ajak

Druig

Makkari

Sersi

Thena

Eros/ Starfox

Lord of the Rings

Legolas

Aragorn

Tauriel

Avatar: TLA + LoK

Zuko

Mai

Ty Lee

Azula

Aang

Sokka

Katara

Toph

Suki

Korra

Asami

Mako

Bolin

Lin Beifong

Kya

Dynasty

Fallon Carrington

Length/type

Headcannon: word length varies

Drabble: 100-500ish words

Short fic: 500-2000

(If you want me to write something longer, please know that they take me more time)

AU’s (optional)

High School

College

Roommates

Vampire

Fantasy

Modern

Futuristic

Certain time periods (ex. 1940’s)

Gen Z Prompts ✵

1. “This is going to sound controversial, but I think that went well.”

2. “You have no idea how to make toast?”

3. “I haven’t showered in four days.”

4. “Tell them how you screwed up.”

5. “Try not to gasp.”

6. “Well, this just scrambles my eggs.”

7. “Look I’m not the brightest tool in the… toolbox.”

8. “Please be quiet, I can’t even hear myself losing the will to live.”

9. “Chile, anyways.”

10. “Why does he have to be so fucking hot!!! And respectful!!!”

11. “That sounds neat, my guy.”

12. “So sad. Alexa play Despacito.”

13. “Well, there goes the fucking plan.” “Wait there was a plan?!”

14. “I want you to park that big mack truck right in this little garage!!!”

15. Teaching them how to do the WAP dance.

16. “Why can’t I throw it back?!”

17. “That wasn’t very g-money of you.”

18. “Yeet!”

19. Playing Among Us.

20. “It the ___ for me.”

21. “You are such a [zodiac sign].”

22. “Sorry, I only simp for Corpse.” “You’ve never even seen his face.” “I’ve seen his hands!”

23. “Will you be my emotional support himbo?”

24. “Might I request thy hand in-” “Marriage?” “No, I was wondering if you want to go to McDonald’s with me.” “Even better.”

25. “I’m here for you bro.” “Really bro?” “Really bro.”

26. *giggles* “Rawr.” *more giggles*

27. “Please pardon my french, but what the diggidy dang was that.”

28. “When will you learn! That your actions have consequences!”

29. “Calling all the Monsters by China Anne Maclaine is a bop and you can’t convince me otherwise.”

30. “Eat the rich!” “[name], I am rich.” “I make no exceptions!”

31. “You’re being very calm right now.” “Oh, that’s just because I haven’t processed what happened. Give me a minute.”

32. “I love you bitch. I ain’t never gonna stop loving you. Bitch.”

33 “I am in love with you and I’m telling you straight up. I want you to be my boyfriend/girlfriend. Do you accept or deny!?... BItch get out the way.”

Fluff ❁

1. “Boyfriend and girlfriend right now?” “No.” “Boyfriend and girlfriend eventually?... You didn’t say no.” “I’ll play the long game.”

2. “I crave physical touch. Please cuddle me.”

3. Kisses on the nose.

4. *sneeze* “That is the cutest sneeze I’ve ever heard.”

5. “How long have you been flirting with me?” “Only since we’ve met.”

6. Playing with their hair.

7. Dancing in the kitchen.

8. “Did you just boop my nose?” “Yes… boop”

9. Y/n going off into a rant and character just stares in admiration.

10. Waking up in the morning.

11. Cuddles after a stressful day.

12. Teaching character or Y/n how to ____.

13. Character or Y/n having a long day and is given a massage.

14. “Sorry I’m late, have you been waiting long?” “Darling for you, I’d wait for centuries.”

15. “Care to give me a back scratch.”

16. “I’ll always be here to annoy the hell out of you.”

17. “I think I love you.”

18. Passing notes in class/in a meeting.

19. “It’s always been you.”

20. “Shush and go back to sleep.”

21. “Your bedhead is really cute.”

22. “I will murder you.” “Of fun?”

23. “You are my new pillow.”

Angst ☁

1. “I said I’d die for you”

2. “I never loved you.”

3. “I trusted you!”

4. Y/n or character sacrificing themself for the cause.

5. “If one of us doesn’t make it-” “Don’t say that.”

6. “I am not weak.” “Yes, you are. And you know what else? You’re stupid too.”

7. “I’ll see you again. One day.”

8. “Is that all we’ll ever be? Friends?”

9. “It’s midnight, where the hell were you?!”

10. “Where did all those bruises come from?”

11. “You could’ve died, you know?”

12. “You want to know the truth? I’m not okay.”

13. “I’m your friend of course I care!”

14. “Let me clean your wounds.”

15. “Can you please come and get me?”

16. “I can’t love you anymore.”

17. “Stop telling me you’re okay!”

18. “Because no matter how much I tried, I can’t stop loving you!”

19. Character or Y/n being reminded of the other, despite them being dead for years now.

Spicy (18+ characters) ♛

1. Hands

2. “You know you’re awfully red for someone who supposedly isn’t attracted to me”

3. Character or y/n training and taking off their shirt.

4. Soft sex

5. Bondage

6. Drunk sex

TBU

[dr-nero-is-god]

i felt the urge to riff on the hive streams for a little bit since discussion came up on the hive discord, namely, holding issue with the idea that the alpha stream is inconsistent in that it is about leadership when otto is the only leader, and that it’s also possible that the alphas are just kids with specialized skills, and not actually bonded by any particular unifying element.

and, in response, @vulpix-sinistre brought up a quote from the abridged hive fanfic, that goes something like: “there are four streams: main characters, stereotypical bullies, ?, and nerds.”

and i disagree with the first two ideas, but almost completely agree with the abridged fic quote. that is pretty much how the streams work, and it is IMPORTANT that that is how the streams work. 

in the end, you may conclude that the streams system still doesn’t make sense. you won’t be like “well clearly dr. nero was just logically dividing the labor of his students to reflect a specialized training program” because it’s more complicated on that. i  hate to do this to y’all, but a lot of everything streams-related requires an out-of-book explanation to get where you’re going, but i can promise that i will at least try to go

first, let’s think about why h.i.v.e. would have streams at all

on the one hand, it’s inescapable to consider that one primary reason that hive has streams is because harry potter had houses, and for the same reason that percy jackson had cabins, the 39 clues had branches, hunger games had sections (or counties, idk), divergent had factions, and so on and so on. the rise of fandom spaces on the internet was concurrent with a big ya/mg boom in the post-2005 world (after twilight was published), and within those fandom spaces it became important to identify with an aspect of the fantasy world as part of your personality. that became a very marketable thing for a while, and so separating children into streams would, to a publisher, seem like a pretty solid storytelling choice.

however! the alpha stream is not the same as gryffindor house. on the one hand, it seems easy to make an alpha/gryffindor and henchman/slytherin parallel, because one group is good (relatively) and one is bad (or at least antagonistic). but it doesn’t work because while slytherin has a reputation for constituents of poor moral character (which has been largely revised in fanon), being a henchman is where you go, according to the books, if you are unintelligent and burly. it’s not a really sexy stream, is what i’m trying to say. and though there are undoubtedly some readers who would look at the henchman stream and see themselves, i think the majority of readers would likely find the henchman stream a completely undesirable stream to be in. 

and, given how little importance the role of streams have after the first book, i will go out on a limb and say that mark walden knows that the henchman stream is unsexy. we aren’t interested in the hopes and dreams and motivations of the henchman stream; as we learn in book two, the ideal henchman is weak-minded and easily led—so what dreams would they even have? this leads me to conclude that while mark walden might have sold h.i.v.e. on the “there are personality-based groups in the school!” idea, he had something completely else in mind when he started writing and that, I think, is actually far more interesting.

but really, why would h.i.v.e. have streams at all

a few things about mark walden: 1) he studied english lit in school, 2) he has a background as a video game producers, and 3) he likes james bond. i know the first two things because i have read his bio and i know the third thing because i have read his books in conjunction with seeing all the james bond films. so we will call 1-3 facts. 

if you are wondering what a lit degree, video game production, and the james bond franchise all have in common, then let me connect those dots: all three of those things depend heavily on the study and understanding of repetitive structure in storytelling as an interpreter and creator of meaning. each one of these fields requires an understanding of how stories and words work to create meaning in order to be successful. 

and, to quote mr. walden here directly (sourced from this here link):

“So, I was playing with this cat one day and it got me thinking that those old-school Bond villains always just seemed to appear out of thin air with very little back story and that got me thinking about how they became world- conquering megalomaniacs in the first place.  It was only a short mental walk from there to HIVE.”

so, imagine you’re a writer trying to tell a story about a school for villains like those in james bond—you’ve studied storycraft and you have a lot of experience in a job finding believable and compelling obstacles for people to interact with in video games. you have noticed patterns. and you need to make those patterns work for you.

enter: streams

i have watched all the james bond movies (all of ‘em) (i mean it) (just not the unreleased one yet lol) and you know what? 

there’s probably just about four kinds of villains in those movies.

henchmen include the likes of jaws, oddjob, and tee hee. often physically disabled in a cinematically interesting way, these guys are the muscles and the machines in every bond film. they are the ones who tail bond as he takes long train rides and who try to personally throw him into shark tanks. they are the hands and feet of their evil masters and they don’t have a lot of emotional depth or backstory. 

politicians/financiers abound in the james bond franchise because he is a government employee who often hangs out with other government employees (he has no friends). these people are like colonel rosa klebb, georgi koskov, prince kamal khan. there are a lot more, as a matter of fact, because the whole point of james bond is that they are in the cold war and even people without titles have political and financial motivations for screwing around with stuff. these types of villains depend on being well and truly embedded in an existing infrastructure or hierarchy, somebody who worked their way up from being a foot soldier or clerk into a powerful leadership position that gives them a lot of state-sanctioned trust and authority.

technicians and inventors include folks like henry gupta and boris grishenko, who use technology as their primary weapon. they are often inventors or innovators and are really good at making high-tech stuff. however, i think this stream is also a direct result of the character Q, someone who is actually on James Bond’s team and who runs an entire department of people who test sometimes outlandish gadgets for Bond to use in the field. (but we love the gadgets. they are fun.) in other words, Bond arguably has a technical stream at his disposal in MI6, which means the idea isn’t necessarily evil, but, likewise, our James Bond School also needs Qs. it’s the rules. if you are familiar with Q from James Bond at all then you understand

and that leaves us with alphas... the “supervillains.” these are the famous ones. dr. no. mr. big. scaramanga. le chiffre. blofeld. max zorin. emilio largo. goldfinger. these are the ones with the master plan, the dreams to recreate the world as they see it, the passion to see their desires to fulfillment and the resources to make them happen. they are rich. they are fancy. they are larger than life. is it weird that karl stromberg tries to incite a nuclear war between Britain and the USSR so that a lot of people can die so that he can colonize the ocean? yes. but by god, it’s fancy and dramatic, and that’s what counts. 

are there other kinds of villains? oh, definitely. lots more. but you have to understand, that those kinds of villains generally don’t appear in Bond. sometimes! but it’s not a staple. for example, not many people in the bond films are motivated by revenge because each movie is kind of designed to function as a one-shot. villains don’t come back and so there is no revenge. the villain who gets the most notable reprise, jaws, actually ends up finding his true love in space. 

compare: every movie is going to have henchmen. every movie has government stooges making morally questionable decisions. (almost) every movie has Q, or some gadget stuff going on. and every movie has a big bad that has to be better than the last. 

so that explains why the streams are what they are. 

it was a jumping-off point for mark walden to figure out what this universe might look like and how different character types need to function. consider that while the core four are all alphas and are kind of insulated as a group, the teachers all kind of roughly align with one of these groups. colonel francisco, raven, and chief lewis are henchmen types, doing on-the-ground work to get stuff done. ms. tennenbaum and the contessa are political af, they are all about the corruption and infiltrating institutional power. ms. gonzales, ms. leon, and professor pike all have technical skills that help keep an organization moving forward. and over them all is the singular alpha, dr. nero, who is coordinating and monitoring it all for his own evil plan: to run a high school.

honestly, dr. nero’s hive idea operates just like a james bond villain plot! it works, or it does when pitching the idea. the problem is that the books continued after the pitch did, and with worldbuilding came some complications. namely, the fact that the megastructure of james bond villainy does not replicate well into a small friend group on which the narration focuses. so let’s return to the question presented at the beginning:

how can alphas really be alphas when not everyone on the field trip can be a mastermind?

i’m gonna give this to you in two ways. one, the way i personally interpret it as an in-universe explanation, given the background premises we have already established. and the other, why the stream system kind of ruins the structure it sets out to create.

so, for me, the alphas can be alphas because there is more to villainy than being a mastermind and there is more to being a mastermind than being in charge. as i think about it, this novelization is actually the backstory for every one of the students, who will go on to do great and scary things. they will manage big projects and come up with interesting ways to terrorize the British government, because that is what James Bond villains do (and James Bond does canonically exist in their universe). much like your actual teenage years, this is not the main event.

as students, the core four need to learn to do a little bit of everything. you gotta learn some lock-picking, that’s essential. everyone has to be able to climb a rock wall. it’s the rules. and everyone needs to be able to do some programming. that’s just the way school is. though everyone has a different personality and a different way of looking at the world, their education has to cover the basics because the fact of the matter is, none of them are villains yet. will they become one? that remains to be seen. but they are being given the tools to become the greatest villains if that is something they choose. 

the main problem that remains when holding this attitude is that the specialized skills of otto and his friends might be better suited to other streams, in which case, what is an alpha anyways?

here’s the facts: if everyone were assigned to a stream by talent, then there wouldn’t be an alpha stream.

franz? political/financial stream. 

nigel? laura? otto? technical stream.

shelby? wing? henchman stream. 

you can debate me on the specifics of those assignments, but the point is this: all the other streams are based on hard skills. franz can manage a ledger and that is a financial skill. laura can build a computer from scratch and that is a technical skill. wing can do martial arts, and each martial art is a physical skill that can be taught and performed in a measurable level of proficiency. 

the idea of being a “mastermind” is a much softer skill—which is to say, there’s no one recipe that will make it work. my manager at work has coached me by saying that leadership is often about having a “style,” and working at it that way. leadership requires interpersonal flexibility, being able to stay organized and to make important decisions rapidly, it is about being able to prioritize and delegate. and it’s very much open to interpretation, every day, all the time. 

let me tell you something else about james bond: there is a lot of classism, racism, and sexism embedded into every aspect of those films, but that goes for double when it comes to the villains in the show. to vastly oversimplify that very concept, it shows up in the bond films like this: henchmen are working class folks, the villainous equivalent of “the help,” and the supervillains are (usually) rich and glamorous and powerful. henchmen are uneducated (read as: stupid) and ugly and poor. no one cares if they die. (there’s more complexities, as always, but this essay isn’t actually about james bond so we’ll fast forward through My Opinions to the end)

the problem with replicating james bond in your villain school universe is that some of the biases of the james bond universe get replicated in there, too. poor and uneducated folks get turned into disposable henchmen whose lives are irrelevant. people who are educated and talented get fast-tracked to a more glamorous and interesting stream that will catapult them to the top of the ladder as soon as they graduate. if you look at the dialect with which block and tackle are written, they are clearly meant to be seen as a different social class than otto, despite the fact that otto is coming from basically nothing. and we understand that when otto graduates, he will be able to do basically anything that he wants to at all.

so, if you’re asking why wing has a role in the alpha stream when he doesn’t seem as leader-y as otto, there’s a simple answer: because dr. nero believes that wing can be more.

the climax of book one is dr. nero explicitly telling otto, wing, laura, and shelby that they are in his school because he believes in them and he wants to see them grow. they are given an elite status other students do not have despite the fact that they have just literally tried to escape. as we see in the case of duncan cavendish, the main way to get on that highway to a guaranteed career is to convince him that you’ve “got it.” for those who are not believed in, there is no way to make up for the special grooming. you’re stuck with the stream you’re placed in, doomed (perhaps) to be a second-in-command at best.

is all this intentional? probably not. but it is implicit in the structure of the story and, alas, that’s the way it is.

all i can think to say in conclusion is that while the stream system tends to replicate some of the unfair and classist realities present in other media and the world we live in, i think part of the reason we read h.i.v.e. is because the alpha stream is so appealing. imagine! you are competent and you have a desirable, specialized skill as well as a proficiency in many general skills and you are certain you are going to do good things—and all because someone believes in you. to receive someone else’s support and confidence can be life-changing. the magic of h.i.v.e. is that yes—lives are changed and ordinary, boring people were elevated to the level of supervillains. we are only left to wonder, are they the only people who deserved that honor?

[whetstonefires]

Do you think the DC fandom maybe, Infantilizes Tim a little too much? Like for a rich kid character who's main trauma for a long time was a getting left home alone too much there's an oddly amount of meta abt how much how much his parents hurt him~ compared to, y'know the two poor characters who grew up with physically abusive dad's+druggie mom's, or the two that were raised assassin cult's, etc

…well, yeah, I do kind of think that? His whole schtick for so long was being too old for his age in ways that didn’t sacrifice his jokey, relatable teenager energies. It’s weird how little of that we see anymore, sometimes.

And then DC broke him and discarded him and he’s sort of awkwardly hanging around getting reimagined as more woobie with every fan generation. It is weird!

But tbh I do get it. And I think the reason his parents’ failure of him and his vulnerability get played up so much, and Jason and Steph’s sufferings (while used a lot for things like motivation and context) not dwelt on quite so much in the same lugubrious style, are kind of the same reason.

Which is that canon didn’t commit to it. Jason and Steph’s experiences with bad parenting were foregrounded and retconned more dramatically awful several times. (There’s some definite classism in how that was approached imo, and I’m never budging on being mad about DC retconning out Catherine being sick and then ignoring her forever in all Jason characterization because a drug death invalidates a person ig, great message during the opioid crisis guys.)

They engaged and coped with it–Steph (and Cass, our #1 canon batfam parental abuse victim) pretty directly, Jason a little less so because of the dubious and fluctuating canon status of most of the content more specific than ‘poverty, homelessness, theft, parental drugs and crime in there somewhere,’ so most of his parent issues have been focused on Bruce. He sure has dug into them tho. 😂 Rarely well or productively, thanks DC, but it’s explicitly part of his character, is my point.

Whereas upper-middle-class Tim was always treated by the narrative as fortunate and unharmed by his experiences with his parents. Even though they were clearly behaving badly in several ways, and Tim showed signs of being harmed by it.

Tim outside of immediate moments of frustration always was of the opinion he was Fine, and Very Fortunate Actually.

Therefore a huge chunk of the numerous everyone who’s got parent-related mental and emotional harm, but has struggled to have that validated and hasn’t responded with a lot of anger toward the parent, identifies with Tim. The only one who’s never really lashed out at his parents for fucking up with him. The one who still needs it explored, because canon ultimately didn’t.

[editing post to put in a readmore because lol it’s long, post otherwise unchanged]

(Dick obviously didn’t ever have any Issues with the Graysons, but he Angry Teenagered at Bruce so hard it changed Bruce’s characterization permanently, rip.)

The things Jason, Steph, and Cass have been through are dramatic, obvious, and fit stereotypes because that’s what they’re based on.

That’s important content to have, but because it’s right out there in your face even people who identify with it quite a lot are less likely to feel the need to work all the way through it again in fanworks. That part’s there. It’s text.

(Well actually Jason having been physically abused kind of wasn’t? I think? It was mostly assumed on the basis of stereotyping and Jason’s not caring about the man much even as he felt possessive of information about his death, which is valid. I don’t actually know what’s up with Willis now, Lobdell did some weird shit that lacked emotional resonance or staying power because he’s Lobdell and has no soul.

Cass’ wandering years are also ludicrously underdeveloped. But very very few comics fans or writers can personally relate to being amazing child warriors with no grasp of language living feral under bridges. That part of her life is consistently represented in terms of absences, in terms of its deviation from the norm and the deficits of normality it left her with, which is typical but unfortunate.) 

-

The interesting things to do with these characters are often informed by the bad stuff in their childhoods, but there’s relatively rarely that much more to say about the fact that those things were bad. They know they’re bad. They’ve had a lot of on-panel rage about it, as discussed above. Steph and Cass both beat the shit out of their dads.

Jason is, in fandom especially, a sort of Platonic ideal of a kid who’s mad about his bad childhood and really bad at figuring out where to point that rage.

(Damian is a whole other kettle of fish, because he’s been lumbered by so many detailed retcons coming so fast no two people can seem to construct compatible models of what his early childhood was like, and even more because he’s still ‘a child’ enough that he’s necessarily in a different stage of processing than someone who’s officially only a few years older than him at this point, but still functionally 8 and also 20 years older, and whose parents are no longer in the picture to continue screwing up.

Also there’s no question that if he brings up an abusive thing the League did, he will be validated by his current environment about his realization that it was in fact bad. There’s a lot of fic on that theme! But it doesn’t have the same tone precisely because it is usually understood that that support will be there if he wants it. Realizing that his previous context contained things that were wrong keeps being made the focus of his arc.)

The badness of Tim’s childhood, on the other hand, was mainly in subtext. Even when we were clearly meant to understand Jack was fucking up, like when he canceled plans with Tim at the last minute to go on a date with Tim’s stepmother, or that infamous time he came to apologize for not being a great parent and got mad Tim was distracted by a crisis on TV so he flew into a rage and took the TV and smashed it and was like ‘that’ll teach you,’ it wasn’t leaned into.

The story didn’t treat Jack as a minor villain to be overcome but like a sort of environmental hazard of childhood, like homework, to be endured and coped with. Tim said things like ‘it’s fine’ and ‘at least he left the computer.’

(And like. It’s not about having a TV and computer in his room. It’s about not letting a child have boundaries, pointedly not respecting a child’s possessions, creating an emotionally insecure environment, punishing minor infractions in proportion to their momentary impact on your own ego, physically lashing out at a proxy for the child…)

Rather like Tom King later didn’t understand about the punching from Bruce, whoever did that story (probably Dixon? I don’t care enough to check) did not understand how serious a case of bad parenting that scene was. That is most definitely textbook abusive behavior. (It’s a hell of a lot more common abusive behavior than being a lame supervillain or shooting you when you screw up, and a lot more specific than ‘was a thug, might have hit me, dead now.’)

And Tim was never allowed to be mad at his parents about it. It was fine. He needed to be ignored so he had the freedom to be Robin. He deserved his dad being mad at him because he was keeping secrets. He complained too much, although objectively he did not.

The universe punished him for ‘complaining,’ more than once. We cut straight from him shunting aside his disappointment that his postcard from his parents was just to say they weren’t coming home yet after all with ‘if it will stop all the fights they’ve been having lately it’s more than fine’ to them getting kidnapped.

He agreed not to come on the rescue mission. His mom never made it home, and his dad was in a coma for a while. And then ultimately Jack died as a result of Tim’s decision to be Robin, immediately after finally deciding to accept it.

So Tim walks around feeling a huge burden of responsibility for his parents’ deaths, and completely unable to process any hurt they did him as real or valid, especially in comparison with the far more blatant awfulness other people have been through, and canon is clearly never going to address it. Or even acknowledge it properly.

Let me repeat that because it’s kind of my main point:

People are fixated on getting Tim’s emotional abuse validated because that’s an incredibly important step in recovering from emotional abuse, and it’s one canon consistently denied him.

How ‘bad’ things are ‘in comparison to’ problems other people have is a bad and unhealthy way to engage with trauma. Okay? That’s just a really harmful framework to apply to pain.

It’s also a way that both Tim and people with experiences similar to Tim’s are encouraged to engage with their own experiences, compounding the existing problems.

So. Not a form of relatable DC was ever actually aiming for when they tried so hard (and pretty effectively) to make him a relatable character as Robin, but an enduring one for a lot of fans.

-

So Tim’s childhood is a natural target for fanworks in a different way than the traumas that have been made explicit and taken seriously by the text. And then a lot of that got compounded by the way the introduction of Damian as Robin was handled, and the lack of resolution that got. And his current status as not quite having a place in the family anymore.

So between the level of projection encouraged by that context and how relatively difficult to access Tim’s Robin run has become ten years after the fact, this has led to a lot of fanworks on these themes that are based mostly on other fanworks, and stray further and further from the original content.

So at this point there’s an entire wing of Tim’s fandom wherein this side of him has expanded enormously, and he primarily exists to suffer, frequently in ways that 1) escalate to a point that is inarguably ‘valid’ and hard to dismiss and 2) set him up to rebound from it in whatever way the writer finds emotionally satisfying or useful–being ultimately cared for and reassured by people who value him (the most infantilizing option but like, popular for obvious reasons), or unveiling his brilliant scheme that was causing him to pretend to be passive in the face of mistreatment, or turning around and using his genius ninja skills to wrest power back from his abusers, or just laying down some sick burns about being treated fairly.

But not that many of the last one, because that’s mostly done with other batfam members.

Tim’s become a vehicle for a lot of vicarious coping that Steph and Jason just aren’t appropriate for, because they get angry and they get even. And those are stories that exist already, so there’s less scope for telling your own.

And because Jason’s reaction pattern is ultimately so masculine (i’ll make them all sorry! with my guns! blam blam!) while Tim’s is pretty gender-neutral, the demographics of fanfic mean that the bulk of the people using Tim vicariously in this manner are female-aligned, which has over time feminized this archetype of him a lot. Sometimes in ways I find really uncomfortable, like there’s a lot of forced pregnancy stuff which activates my panic buttons. x.x

But, ultimately, it’s fandom. People are going to do what they’re going to do, DC in their perpetual fail has hung Tim out to dry in narrative terms, and I’d rather the people who are using Tim for victimization narratives over the people who can’t dismiss or discredit him fast enough now that his position has been filled. 🤷‍♀️ What we gonna do? Fave’s in an awkward spot. DC hates us. This is the life in this comic book pit. XD

-

Also if you’re the same anon who left me a callout about op of that weird Steph post in my inbox, or if you aren’t @ that person, 1) I refuse to get involved so I’m not answering that ask 2) those aren’t even particularly dramatic fandom crimes? That’s pretty normal? That’s just…Caring Too Much About Ships And Disagreeing With Me.

Do I also feel those opinions are kinda bad? Yeah. But I disagree with everyone about something. Chill.

[river--glass]

Reylo Fic Recs Long Ass Fics pt 1: Canon Verse & Alternate Canon Verse

Someone asked for fic recs 100K or over. Here they are. See Pt. 2 for Alternate Universe fics. (I haven’t read all of these- my personal comments are in bold)

Force Destiny by EdenWoodsParker. (CV, post-TLJ, E, 749K)

Immediately following the events of The Last Jedi, the battle for the galaxy continues between the First Order and the last of the Resistance. Meanwhile, on opposite sides of the war, Rey and Kylo Ren are forced to face the realities of their bond, their complicated relationship, their loyalty to their causes, and their understanding of the Force. Could their star-crossed connection be tied to the fate of the galaxy?

Landscape With a Blur of Conquerors by diasterisms. (CV, post-TFA, E, 362K)

Tags include: A Sexually Tense Soap Opera of Galactic Proportions; The Trashy Romance Novel I've Always Wanted to Write but with Lightsabers; A Game of Tropes; Arranged Marriage Compliant with Canonverse and EU Lore; Minor Character Death; Angst with a Happy Ending; Babies Ever After ❤️

Bonded by Chridder. (CV, post-TLJ, T, 345K)

This started as a series of one-shots that accidentally turned into a story, focusing on moments when the Force Bond brings Rey and Kylo together and the evolution of their relationship.

Free to Fall by uselessenglishmajor. (CV, post-TLJ, E, 288K)

Obligatory post-TLJ Reylo fic. Started out as a force bond will-they/won't-they, but then the Knights of Ren showed up and things got epic.

Sword of the Jedi (series) by diasterisms. (ACV, T/M, 229K)

"I carry your heart, here with me. I carry it in battle. I carry you.”—- This series is everything canon should have been. The author knows Star Wars. It’s rich in lore and steeped in emotion and it gives us a truly inspired alternative to canon.

All Our Days by voicedimplosives. (ACV, E, 221K)

A Persuasion AU featuring Smuggler Ben and a Rey whose family returned.

Songs of Innocence, Songs of Wisdom by cosmogonika. (CV, post-TLJ, E, 217)

From Innocence to Wisdom there is a long path. Between political plots and old allies and enemies emerging from the past, the new teachings of the Force will unveil ancient hidden secrets. From their interpretation rests the fate of the whole galaxy. Featuring a Ben pain train, bendemption, soulmates, and a shit ton of canon lore. This story had me SHOOK. It’s incredible.

Safe Harbor by ItsALilah. (CV, post-TLJ, E, 193K)

After the ultimate betrayal, Rey flees to the only person she knows she can still (kind of) trust. But as she spends more time with Kylo Ren, she begins to understand just what kind of future he was offering in the Supremacy's Throne Room. She really doesn't hate it. At all.

They Don’t Have a Word for What We Are by andabatae. (CV, post-TLJ, E, 183K)

After Crait, Rey retreats to Jakku to grapple with her past... and her unwelcome attraction to Kylo Ren.

A Handful of Stars by neon heartbeat. (CV, post-TLJ, E, 162K)

Rey thought her choice to leave behind Kylo Ren was final. Kylo Ren thought his decision to seize power was absolute. The Force, however, has other ideas. From Naboo to Coruscant, from chance encounter to Force-vision, from political plotting in the New Republic to a battle in the Graveyard of Alderaan, they meet each other on every field and learn the meaning of bringing balance to the galaxy.

Commemoration by wineandpotatochips. (CV, post-TFA, E, 160K)

Deep Beneath the Light by crysania. (CV, TFA alt-end, E, 155K)

A Ben says yes fic! He takes Han’s hand and joins the resistance. A great fic loaded with Solo family interactions.

Tactical Surrender by destinies. (CV, post-TLJ, E, 155K) A Rey joins Kylo fic.

Sealed to Me by glittergothh. (CV, post-TLJ, E, 152K).

Kylo stares into the pool, at his reflection, the scarred, damaged face that doesn’t even come close to portraying the conflict within. The face of the First Order. He hates it more than he ever has.

Forbidden by koderenn. (ACV, E, 137K). She’s a Jedi, he’s a senator- title says it all.

When the West Wind Moves by lachesisgrimm. (CV, TFA alt-ending, E, 135K)

Within Monsters by AnonymousMink. (ACV, M, 132K).

Sick of her life on Jakku and finally at terms with the fact her parents aren’t coming back for her, Rey decides to take charge of her life and leave Jakku by applying and attaining a job as a technician.  Her first assignment finds her aboard The Finalizer where she catches the attention of the Master of the Knights of Ren.

Across the Stars by nite0wl29. (ACV, E, 132K). A Beauty and the Beast AU.

What Happens in Canto Bight by SpaceWaffleHouseTM. (CV, post-TLJ, M, 130K)

Rey wakes up in her Canto Bight hotel room while on a mission for the Resistance unable to remember a thing from the night before, which wouldn't be a problem, if Kylo Ren hadn't woken up beside her and they weren't both wearing rings on their fingers. Waffle really is on a whole different tier of fanfic writing. They’re one of my favorite Reylo writers out there.

Ashes of the Empire by Skyelo_Ren. (CV, TLJ alt-ending, M, 128K) A “she says yes” fic.

Footnotes by Camucia. (CV, post-TLJ, E, 121K)

Prison Break by SpaceWaffleHouseTM. (CV, post-TLJ, M,119K)

You’ll Be The One to Turn by postedbygaslight. (CV, post-TLJ, M, 119K)

Beautiful writing and wonderful storytelling. Very realistic characterization too. Everything IX could have been, but wasn’t.

Same Eyes, Different People by SageMcMae. (ACV, E, 117K)

Snare by CaraRose. (CV, TFA flip-script, E, 116K)

The village is a trap and Kylo escapes to the dessert, where he stumbles upon rey and forces her to help. Trust and their relationship builds. morally grey people and feral Rey

Steady As We Burn by pacificwanderer. (CV, post-TLJ, E, 115K)

This is basically a character study with smut. And it’s perfect. 

No Rest For The Wicked by Avdal. (CV, post-TFA, E, 111K)

Everything in Between by Polkadotdotdot. (CV, post-TLJ, 110K) 

After Crait, what's left of the Resistance go on the run. With Poe trying to win Rey's already stolen heart and Rey and Ben acting like stubborn fools over joining the other, Leia just wants to know why Rey is talking to herself...and how she ended up in the family way.

The Victory March (series) by ClockworkCrow. (CV, post-TFA, E, 114K (currently) WIP)

This Is Not Going To Go The Way You Think by TehanuFromEarthSea. (CV, post-TLJ, E, 107K)

Kylo finds himself alone in space with only a vague plan to find Rey and change her mind. Rey has plenty of time to wonder what she wants as the resistance searches for allies.

Hand of Fate by Sweetestcondition. (CV, TLJ alt-ending, M, 101K)

Rey is offered a choice at the end of Star Wars Episode VIII: The Last Jedi. This time, she takes the hand of Kylo Ren, grasping at the chance to transform the First Order from the inside. She hopes to create a Resistance from within, starting with the heart of Ben Solo.

for @scarletvizhlovers

[hlcreators]

AUTHOR REC:  creamcoffeelou / @2ofusmp4 

Be sure to show some love by leaving kudos and comments!

last blues for bloody knuckles (34k)

“Hi, love,” A too-familiar voice greeted him from the other side of the door. He had a cigarette dangling from his lips that he brought between two fingers as his eyes raked over Louis. All Louis could do was stare, wide-eyed at the alpha that he’d left behind so many years ago. “Harry?” His voice felt far away, like it wasn’t him that was speaking. On the other side of the door stood the one man he never thought he’d see again, and maybe the only man he never wanted to see again. A few steps behind him stood Liam and someone else he didn’t recognize, with guns tucked into their front pockets. “I need you to come with me.”

OR

Styles was a name everyone knew. It had evolved into something of a fairy tale, a far away problem that normal people didn’t have to deal with. Louis never thought he’d find himself falling in love with him. When he finds himself pregnant with Harry’s child, he knows he has to leave the life, and Harry, behind. For her sake.

He never expected Harry to show back up on his doorstep five years later.

A mob au.

Adore You (23k)

When they’d first come into this lifestyle, the being in their roles in their day to day lives, Louis had struggled with it. He’d found it hard to distinguish between what Harry was doing because he thought he had to, with Louis as his dominant, and what he wanted to do just because of them being partners.

Being ‘twenty-four-seven’ in the traditional sense wasn’t exactly realistic in their life, no matter how much they tried to make it work. They could do small things within their power dynamic, they could try their best to keep it going, but more or less, it wasn’t a constant thing. Harry called it submission with weekends and bank holidays, and it worked for them.

As different as it was from what he expected, no matter what, in the end, it worked for them – and that was all that mattered.

“Can I… take care of you?” Harry had asked, his eyes looking everywhere but at Louis. Louis had just turned twenty-three, they’d been exploring things, doing new things for years, and Harry still managed to surprise him. “Like… Just do things for you like you take such good care of me.”

OR: A canon-compliant fic where Harry wants nothing more than to take care of Louis.

Running In The Shadows (43k)

Harry had a plan for his life. Work his dream job, raise his family, and settle down one day. He thrived in the ordinary. But when tragedy strikes, he has to see exactly how far hes willing to go to help the person he cares for most. Louis was never a part of that plan.

technicolor (81k)

When the small town of Twin Lakes begins experiencing a string of serial murders, a team of detectives is called in to help. Louis is the head of the team and meets a hard-headed psychic who everyone else seems to believe is the one who will solve the case. Louis isn't so sure.

OR The slow-burn, hate-to-love, crime au where Harry is a psychic, Louis is a detective, and the world is against them.

Still Standing Still (44k)

Louis has long since been following the same schedule, the same program, the same everything. He works hard towards his goals and gives everything to those that mean the most to him. Harry was never a part of the plan, but Louis finds he loves unplanned changes.

Earned It (5.4k)

There’s something so uniquely captivating to being on stage - to being the center of attention. Louis has always craved it, always craved the feeling of being desired by all only to have his own pick at the end of the night. He knows people come to see him specifically - has been told time and time again - and maybe that’s why he’s so in love with what he does. He knows he’s wanted and he loves being able to manipulate the attention of the men and women sitting in the crowd around him. 

Break Me Dow, Build Me Up (16k)

America, as it’s been told, is the world of riches. Men and women alike can come to the land of the free and achieve the American dream, regardless of their background. He wanted nothing more than to create a better life for his sisters, for himself, and perhaps for his future. Harry Styles was never a part of the plan.

[or: Louis moves his family to America to try and find a better life. Harry finds him instead.]

Just A Whisper (11k)

Strange things have happened around the castle since Louis was young. No one has ever been able to explain them and they've long since gone ignored. As the hauntings become more frequent, Louis finally reaches his last straw and calls a professional to help him.

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After being left at the alter by his boyfriend of five years, Louis goes on a vacation to try and clear his head and fill the empty spaces in his heart. On the way, he meets a new group of life-long friends, and maybe a little more than that.

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Reason #17: Your car's already at their place and you're too lazy to move it.

When he wakes up, his back hurts, his head is pounding, and his mouth is extremely dry. There’s too much light around him and he doesn’t remember falling asleep at all the night before, let alone getting home. But as soon as he opens his eyes, he realizes very quickly that he’s not home.

He’s managed to fall asleep on the floor of Harry Style’s flat.

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Harry and Louis build their life together from the beginning - but even losing everything can't tear them apart.

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With a camera in hand, Louis sets off on the road trip of his life to explore the most famous haunted houses of the UK. Things don't exactly go to plan.

End Game (54k)

Harry styles is the most feared man in London, notorious for always getting everything he wants. All of that changes when Louis comes around and opens his eyes to a new, beautiful side of the world.

Beneath These Sparkling Lights (Forever you’re mine) (5.1k)

"After years of being called a couple teasingly by both our families and friends alike, I know it was nerve wracking for the both of us when it finally actually happened. But for our entire lives we’ve always been HarryandLouis, never apart, whether we called ourselves best friends or best friends and fiancés or now best friends and husbands.” Harry’s smile is so gorgeous that Louis feels a little shake in his knees, “Through everything, the good, the sometimes weird, and the bad, I’m so glad it was you at my side. I know life is ugly sometimes, but you’re the beauty in the fight that is life, for me. My rose to my dagger."

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Harry Styles was born to the leader of the Following - the organization that keeps their world peaceful and just. Without the Following, the world would only return to the ways of the Old Times and all of them would come to an untimely end. Or, so he thought, until he meets Louis, the leader of the Rebellion.

Gentle Autumn Rain (57k)

Louis Tomlinson moved to London with a big heart and a big dream. Harry Styles moved to London, fresh out of the police academy, with the hopes of helping as many people as he could in his eyes. When a deranged alpha forces their paths to cross, their ideas of what is meant to be will never be the same.

Down the Field (9k)

Louis, a pro football player of Chelsea, is forced to retire after a severe injury to his foot. After he recovers and is told the news that he'll never play professionally again, he decides to go coach at his old secondary school. Harry, the health teacher, loves to let him know how big of a fan he is.

I Promise (3.5k)

Harry has a promise to keep and a pair of arms to go home to.

[Loosely based on the drowning scene from Dunkirk's trailer. ]

I Chose You (13k)

When he wakes up, the room is much brighter than when he’d fallen asleep. He has to blink the sleep from his eyes and eventually he just tosses an arm over his face to try and ignore the brightness, but then he realizes that the bed has a decent sized dent in it that forms perfectly to his body and he’s comfortable. It’s – weird. He can’t remember leaving the blinds open, and it wouldn’t have made much sense for Zayn to have opened them, either, but he doesn’t think about it. Maybe he just hadn’t realized that he’d had such a nice bed when he’d fallen asleep.

After a moment, he groans and takes his arm away from his eyes and – wait. This is – this is not his hotel room. This is a bedroom.

[Or: Louis wakes up in another life.]

As We Are (48k)

Louis doesn't think much when he's asked to meet up with the alpha of the pack two hours from his own - he figures it's business as usual. But Harry Styles is anything but usual.

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It was so different - the complete opposite of everything Louis had ever expected about finally being placed into the real world. Zayn defied every single thing he'd ever been told about vampires, about how he was supposed to be treated. This was nothing like what he'd expected.

[or: Zayn's the third oldest vampire in the world and found himself searching out the company of a human, so he took Louis as his keep. His maker Harry doesn't approve.]

Running (28k)

Louis was never ashamed of who he was - never had been never would be. But he never really was himself.

In The Heat of The Moment (36k)

The first thing that came to Zayn’s mind when he read Liam Payne’s file was that he was certainly, definitely going to die before he was thirty. The word they used in The Office for such a case was reckless; reckless meant that, perhaps, the person wasn’t at fault, but the universe and said person’s energy didn’t happen to match. That made terrible things happen to that person.

Liam Payne was a classic case of recklessness.

[or: A modern times AU where Zayn is a guardian angel and he's been sent down to protect the most reckless human he's ever met.]

[maxattack-powell]

Chemical Reaction: Chapter 1

(A Nanny Affair Story)

———————————————————————————————————

Masterlist - go here for other chapters and other Choices fics

Disclaimer: The following chapters are a retelling of characters in the basic nanny plot of Choices: The Nanny Affair. I do not work for Pixelberry Studios, the game developer or own the rights to the characters. All of the ORIGINAL characters, story-lines and events were developed, by me, for this adaptation of my Chemical Reaction story.

NSFW moments in some chapters - Mature Readers Only Please

Paring: Anna Schuyler x Sam Dalton

Word Count: 7048

———————————————————————————————————

Chapter 1

~Anna~

Anna stands and reaches across the desk to shake the extended hand, doing her best to contain her excitement. “Thank you, Mr. Dalton, for this opportunity. I am thrilled to be joining Dalton Enterprises.”

He nods and gives her a small smile, his grey… wait, brown. No. Grey. Yes grey eyes hold hers. 

She could swear they just changed colors while he smiled. Shaking her head, she watches him open his mouth to speak, but instead of words, Mr. Dalton starts making a repetitive, obnoxious sound. She recoils, letting go of his hand to cover both ears before closing her eyes to block it out as it gets louder.

Thoroughly confused, Anna doesn't understand why he started making such an unpleasant sound. She opens her eyes intending on asking him to stop, but finds herself staring at a familiar ceiling instead of the infamous billionaire Sam Dalton who was shaking her hand just seconds ago. 

“What the hell?” She turns her head sharply to focus on the true source of the abhorrent beeping and is faced with large red digital numbers.

With a sigh she reaches over and forcefully turns off her alarm before letting her arms fall back to her sides with a frown. “Way to ruin the dream of dreams, you infernal machine.”

She blinks only once before bolting upright, turning to look at the time once more as it hits her. “Crap! The interview... I have to get ready!” 

Anna quickly grabs her laptop, opening it to find it on the job listing tab she had stared at for over a week. She frowns for a second, remembering enough of the dream she was just having to compare it to reality. 

Yes, she was going to interview for a position with Sam Dalton, the CEO of Dalton Enterprises. Dalton’s is one of the top biotech companies in the world, and coincidentally, her dream workplace. 

Anna’s eyes scan the job listing once more as she chews on her thumbnail.

 Live-In Nanny

Full-time position watching twin seven-year-old boys.

Benefits included

Negotiable salary

 Yeah, that's right. Her job interview was for a position working for the Sam Dalton, just not one remotely close to the field she's been working so hard in during grad school. She shakes her head slowly as she reads over the notes she made on a sticky note, currently stuck a little skewed to the screen. 

Anna had recently graduated from New York University with a Master of Science in Chemistry. Something that she was hoping would help her get a position at Dalton Enterprises one day. The problem was, no one leaves Dalton’s. It’s an illustrious company, featured in many grad school courses, not to mention professional business and science publications. And thanks to Mr. Dalton himself, more than the occasional news coverage.

It's basically like working for Disney, but less whimsy and way more nerdy tech. Otherwise they are totally the same. At least to this chemistry grad.

“Focus, Anna. You only get one shot at a first impression with Sam Dalton, and you need this job. If he sees how good you are with his kids, maybe you can work your way into an internship after a year… or something.” 

She sighs, knowing that she could probably find an entry level position at one of the many labs near New York and be working in her actual field, but this opportunity was too good to pass up. It’s not every day a recent grad student gets a chance to work for their dream company, or at least the CEO of said dream company.

“Okay. Let’s find something professional, something classy… probably wouldn't hurt if it was a little hot..?” She shrugs and gets up to open the closet door. “Whatever it takes to make an impression.” She scrunches up her nose. “Well, not whatever it takes, but close.” She shifts through the items on hangers until something speaks to her. 

“Ah, there it is.” Anna pulls a black mini dress with a matching gold plaid blazer out of the small space and assesses the overall look. “Just a few accessories and it will be perfect. Yellow is cheery, it's bright… and more importantly, it will help me stand out.”

Keeping an eye on the time, Anna rushes to get dressed, knowing she will need a few minutes to collect herself once she arrives at the unmistakable Dalton Enterprise building. Time moves too quickly, but she arrives at least fifteen minutes early. She checks her clothes one last time in the glass reflection before entering the building. The lobby is immaculate and modern, but also very alive and warm. It is very Dalton Enterprises. 

After exhaling a deep breath, she approaches the front desk. “Hi, I’m here for an interview with Mr. Dalton.”

The receptionist gives her a polite, but no nonsense look. “Name?”

“Anna Schuyler… I’m here for--”

“Ah, yes.” She clicks on her mouse feverishly a few times before looking back up. “His ten o’clock is running a little over, but his secretary said to send you up when you arrived.”

After receiving directions to a specific bank of elevators, Anna verifies her name once again with the guard stationed nearby. He wishes her good luck and opens the door to scan his badge and punch in the button for the top floor. She thanks him and turns as the small, but elegantly designed space begins passing floor after floor with increasing speed. For such a tall building, it takes what seems like only seconds before the door opens again.

The friendly smile of Mr. Dalton’s secretary greets her as she exits and steps towards a sleek metal and glass desk. “Ms. Schuyler?”

Anna nods, doing her best to remain cool, calm, and collected as the secretary leads her down a short hall and opens the door, gesturing for her to enter. She steps in and turns to thank the polite woman as she steps back into the hall, shutting the door behind her. 

Spinning to scan the larger than expected space, Anna freezes in place. Her eyes find not one, but two forms on the other side of the room, though only one is completely focused on her from his relaxed position on the edge of his desk. 

Yes on, not behind. Perched on the edge of a large warm, wooden antique desk, Sam Dalton’s wide hands splay flat across the surface, holding his thick frame up as his gaze locks onto hers. He shifts one foot behind the other in preparation to stand, causing her eyes to trail down his sturdy form without hesitation.

When he stands and extends to his full height, her eyes jump up and immediately notice his dark, rich brown hair styled perfectly so. Though it’s his piercing grey eyes that make her hesitate for a moment before eventually moving on to admire his strong chiseled jaw and immaculate facial hair. It all contradicts but somehow also fits the relaxed dress shirt peeking out of his open blazer, sans tie, quite perfectly. 

Anna swallows, doing her best to maintain her professional thoughts under his intense stare. She reminds herself that she’s here to get a job that will hopefully create opportunities for future positions at the company, not notice how well his chest fills his slightly open shirt and blazer combo.

A man she didn't fully notice when she entered the room shifts in his seat near the same desk, not yet aware he has quite possibly lost Mr. Dalton’s attention. “...still need to discuss the marketing for the Ilithyia Project. I say we go all in on the healthcare side, put our money into doctor ads.”

Mr. Dalton gestures for her to come in and sit as he turns to face the man, leaning further back on his desk as he attempts to wrap up the overdue meeting. “Isn't that the same strategy that almost sunk our last attempt to enter the women's health sector? I need you to think outside the box, David. You know how important this is to me.”

“I suppose we could go straight to the source… but women don't want all the science-talk thrown at them.”

Anna hesitates behind one of the open chairs and arches an eyebrow questionably for a brief second before doing her best to maintain a neutral expression.

“Hmm.” The slightly amused look on Mr. Dalton’s face tells her that it didn't go as unnoticed as she had hoped. 

He turns at the waist, making his switch in attention obvious to David. “And what do you think?”

With a start, Anna realizes that Mr. Dalton is specifically asking her. “Me?”

“Yes you, Ms. Schuyler. How would you approach new tech designed to make C-sections safer and easier?” 

She studies his face, analyzing his intentions before glancing at David. She’s still unsure if this is a test of some kind, or if Mr. Dalton was genuinely asking her opinion. When he gives her an encouraging nod, she takes a deep breath.  

“I think you shouldn’t dumb down science for your customers. Just because they're women doesn't mean they can't handle the ‘science-talk’.” Her tone as she side-eyes David makes her irritation obvious, but she keeps her composure.

Mr. Dalton remains silent for a while, his eyes narrowing slightly while he studies her, as if he was searching for something specific before he speaks. “...I couldn't agree more.” 

He pivots back to face the other man. “David, I want a new plan that takes her advice into account on my desk by end-of-day. Understood?”

David sputters in protest. “But--”

Mr. Dalton glances once more at Anna before fully focusing on the man still sitting in front of his desk. “Or do I need to find someone else to take over the project? Ms. Schuyler is already here for an interview…”

David’s jaw clenches as he gathers his things. “...I’ll get it done.” He huffs as he stands with his stack of papers and hurries from the room without a second glance.

Mr. Dalton turns to give Anna his full attention, causing her breath to catch at the intensity of his gaze before he flashes her a confident smile. “I’m sorry about that. I’ve got a packed schedule this morning, but I’m glad you were able to come in.”

His eyes smoothly slide over her entire person and his lips part in a soft exhale as he fiddles with his watch band. “I see you dressed to impress.”

She smiles, finally relaxing a bit as his eyes roam back up to hers. “Did it work?”

“It did, at that. You already look like you belong here. It’s nice to officially meet you, Ms. Schuyler .”

“Anna.” She quickly corrects, hoping he will drop her last name, never being a big fan of such antiquated formalities.

“Ms. Anna.” Mr. Dalton smiles softly as he reaches to shake her hand.

She feels an illicit spark as her skin brushes against his, but she shakes it off as he gestures for her to sit. “Tell me, what made you apply for this nanny position?”

“Honestly?” She hesitates then decides to be straightforward, as she typically is. “I admire what you do here at Dalton Enterprises. I know I wouldn't be working in the biotech field directly, but I want to do what I can to help, even if it’s just giving you peace of mind, knowing that your boys are taken care of. I believe we all need to develop important principles such as patience and self-discipline, and it's easier when we are children. It helped me through my graduate program at NYU, and I feel it's never too early to start building those tools.” 

His right eyebrow raises slightly before it drops back down. “My boys definitely require all those things.”

“I like to have fun too, though. Kids are full of energy and highly creative, something I believe more adults should embrace as well.” Her eyes flick up to his before glancing back down at her lap momentarily. 

He nods in agreement. “I wholeheartedly agree. My boys can be tough and need someone who can not only guide them, but also have the energy to keep up. I’ll be honest with you, not many can.”

His intense gaze almost makes her shiver as he continues. “Which is why I’m looking for someone who can commit to at least a year. Things will be very busy for me professionally over the next year or two, so I need someone they can depend on during the worst of it.”

His eyes shift from her back to her resume and she nods. “I understand. Mr. Canary did tell me about that requirement.”

Sam places her resume on his desk but remains looking at it while he speaks. “Excellent. James is a good friend of mine at NYU, so when he suggested I review your resume, I assumed he made you aware.” 

He looks up, his eyes studying her own as his head tilts slightly to the side. “I have to be honest though, I’m not sure why you would consider being locked down for at least a year when you just finished grad school with these achievements. You likely have multiple opportunities available already.”

Anna hesitates, scrambling to defend her decision. “Professionally, I’ve always admired the work you do here at Dalton Enterprises, and I want to learn as much as I can about the biotech industry. I hope to be a meaningful part of it one day.”

Mr. Dalton shifts, leaning a hip against his desk to face her better as she elaborates. “But this isn't a position at Dalton Enterprises. This is to be a nanny to seven year old, twin boys.”

“Yes, but I still feel that I am helping the company by helping them... by helping you.” She looks up and finds his eyes locked on hers. “And maybe I’ll learn something new during that time that could make me a more desirable candidate to Dalton in the future.”

“You’ve applied before.” It’s not a question.

“I have.” She confirms.

“But you have yet to interview.” Another correct assumption.

She shakes her head. “No sir. I’ve been told I’m in the applicant pool, but there are no open, entry level positions available.”

Mr. Dalton hums, fiddling with his watch again and she makes a mental note on how the pictures she’s previously seen in different publications don't do him justice.

He clears his throat to speak. “Your insight before might just make the Ilithyia Project a success, you know.”

She feels more confident and decides to throw some additional information out in hopes it can help her secure the position. “I recently received my Master of Science, with a focus in Chemistry, and all my lab work has definitely prepared me for taking care of young children. After all, chemists are used to handling high-stakes spills.” She jokes, instantly regretting it after seeing his emotionless expression.

His eyes burn into her for a moment before he finally chuckles softly. His gaze lingers for a second too long before he looks away with an almost sorrowful expression. “The boys are still feeling the loss of their mother. It was almost five years ago now, and they were young but…”

Even though Anna hasn't met them, her heart aches for his boys. “That’s not something you can just get over.”

“Exactly. And I’m afraid they often take it out on their nanny.” His eyes lift back to hers. “Can you handle that?”

“Of course.” She nods, determined to do whatever it takes.

“Then I have just one more question for you, Ms. Anna, and I want you to be completely honest.” He leans forward earnestly, and once again, she feels a weird energy in the air. “If you could go back in time and tell your younger self one piece of advice, what would it be?”

“I’d tell younger me to take more risks. I admit I was a little apprehensive when I was a kid and I wish I’d taken that leap of faith more often and experience more.”

“Very impressive. You're wise beyond your years.” He leans back a little, contemplating.

A soft knock at the door breaks the moment, causing her to turn and see his receptionist peek inside. “Sorry to interrupt Mr. Dalton, but your car has arrived for the meeting over lunch at La Tour d’Argent.”

He nods to her, then turns his attention back to Anna. “The next part of this interview will take place this evening at my home.”

“It… will?” She blinks a few times, somewhat surprised at the thought of being in his home in just a few short hours.

He hands her his card with his home address and a time written on the back. “See you at seven, Ms. Anna.”

------------

That evening, Anna finds herself gaping up at one of the most luxurious apartment buildings in the entire city. She can't help but wonder if they'll even let her in as she approaches the door.

“Uh, hello. This might sound crazy, but Sam Dalton invited me here for a job interview?” Anna tries not to frown at how odd her question-statement sounds out loud.

“Yes, I’ve been expecting you. You can go right up to the penthouse suite.” He walks her over to the elevator and pulls out a card from a secret pocket in his blazer, swiping it across a panel on the wall above the floor buttons. “Good luck.”

Anna gives him an anxious smile as the elevator doors shut behind her. She can't believe this place might actually be her home if everything goes well. 

“Don’t get ahead of yourself Anna. Stay focused. Just... think about your interview questions. You did okay this morning.” 

She chews on her bottom lip. “But I don't know what to expect now.” She glances at the floor indicator, watching it climb. “Hopefully I’ll be able to come up with good answers on the fly. Just remember, this could lead to a great career opportunity. Focus.” 

Anna closes her eyes and replays today's interview in her head, doing her best to recall her answers and not the way he was analyzing her. “I can do this. I can show him I’m a valuable asset to Team Dalton.”

She sighs as she thinks about his sharp attention during the interview, how his strong jaw would flex as if he was hanging on her every word. “This is totally inappropriate. So what… he looks good. I’m sure he knows it too. The tabloids definitely seem to think so.”

Anna glances around the elevator, suddenly realizing something as she swallows her panic and whispers. “Please don't have cameras in here.”

She shakes her head and takes a deep breath to calm her racing pulse as she reaches the top floor. The hybrid jump-hesitation when it reaches the top makes her stomach flip as the doors of the elevator glide open, letting her out into the palatial penthouse suite. Her eyes grow wide as she takes it all in, instantly thinking how the spare bath is likely larger than her entire apartment. 

She moves forward, only making it one step into the luxurious space before she is ambushed by twin boys wielding foam swords.

One scowls as he adjusts his grip, his messy dirty blonde hair blocking some of his view. “Intruder at the castle gates! Ready your horses, boys!”

The other leans back, as if he's about to attack, his brows coming together behind his stylish copper glasses. “Aye, ready we be! Chaaaaaarge!”

“Whoa!” She rushes past them and towards the couch, grabbing a spare sword she saw seconds earlier. “Think again, soldiers!” She parries with the foam toys, holding her own against the onslaught of attacks. “Aaargh! You'll never get the best of Captain Anna!”

The first boy’s mouth falls open in awe. “Whoa! Admiral Mason, she can fight!”

Mason shakes his head as he gives his brother a wide eyed glance. “That’s why you gotta stick to the battle plan, Admiral Mickey!”

Mickey snorts with a smile. “Pssh! Where’s the fun in that?!”

Mr. Dalton suddenly enters the room from the long hallway to the side with a wide-eyed expression. “Ms. Anna, I didn't hear you come in... Boys, give her some space. We don't want to send her running already.”

Mason drops the sword and does his best to appear innocent, pushing his glasses up his nose with his fingertip. “But Dad, we were gonna bring her straight to you! She looks like a lost princess or something.”

Anna grins and shakes her head. “Charming tactic.”

Mason smiles with a shrug while Mickey also drops his sword, kicking it behind the sofa as if his father hadn't already seen it. “She was smiling the whole time, well… mostly.”

Mr. Dalton’s face turns serious. “Mason, Mickey, apologize. Now.”

Mason sighs and frowns behind his glasses as he turns to face her. “Sorry, Ms. Anna.”

Mickey shifts his weight but toes his discarded sword as he replies with mild sincerity. “Yeah, sorry.”

Mr. Dalton sighs. “...close enough.” He turns towards her and takes a deep breath. “Ms. Anna, let’s test your bedtime skills, shall we?”

She blinks and quickly nods, acutely aware of Sam’s gaze on her as her mind races to prepare for this trial by fire. She spins, clasping her hands together as she turns her attention back to the twins. “First things first. Have you brushed your teeth since dinner?”

Mason gives her a wide smile. “I’m on it!” 

He bolts towards the bathroom, but Mickey hangs back and pouts. “Aw, come on, lady. I hate brushing my teeth. Mint tastes gross.”

“But Mickey, you don't want Mason to win do you? He’s already got a considerable jump on you. Unless… maybe you're okay with him being the fastest?” Anna shrugs as his eyes grow wide and glances at the empty hallway.

“No way! I’m going right now!” He turns and sprints down the hall after his brother. 

She and Sam follow close behind to supervise. “Nicely done.”

“I’m just getting started.” She grins, and she means it. This is business.

Ten minutes later, Anna has settled another argument over who gets to wear the red pajamas and what bedtime story to read. Finally, she finishes tucking the boys in bed, then steps back near the doorway so Sam can say goodnight.

Mason gives his father a hug around the neck and lays back into his pillow, whispering almost comically loud. “I like Ms. Anna, Dad.”

Mickey leans over the rail of the top bunk and grins wide with a few nods. “Yeah, can we keep her?”

Mr. Dalton chuckles as he ruffles Mickey’s hair. “We’ll see, boys. Sweet dreams.”

As the two return to the main living area, he gives her an impressed smile. “No one has ever been able to put the boys down like that, especially on the first try. I normally have to step in and negotiate a deal.”

“Well, I have something those other nannies didn't… chemistry.” She grins, though quickly stops, instantly regretting her dad-quality joke.

They lock eyes for a long moment, the tension simmering in the air before Mr. Dalton finally laughs. “That’s true. I haven't interviewed anyone else with a chemistry degree.” He turns and shakes his head as he gestures to another hallway. “Follow me. I want to show you something.”

Anna walks behind him, noticing an open door into what looks like a home office. Her eyes linger on a framed photo on the wall of two people skydiving. She immediately assumes one is Sam, but wonders who the other could be. She didn't realize he was such a thrill-seeker, making a mental note in case the subject ever comes up. When she turns her attention back towards the hallway, she finds Mr. Dalton silently observing her. 

With a sheepish smile, she clasps her hands together in front of her. “Sorry, I wasn't trying to snoop. Something just caught my eye.”

“No need to apologize. Would you care to step inside and share a nightcap, Ms. Anna?” She hesitates, making him continue with a small, but friendly smile. “After all, if you're going to be Mickey and Mason’s nanny, I should get to know you… and you should get to know me.”

His eyes remain fixed on hers, making her curious about the other side of the infamous professional. “You’re right. Thank you, I’d love to.”

She follows him into his office and stares unabashedly as he pours the bourbon. Her eyes trail over his body, confident he won't catch her, but as soon as his eyes lift towards hers, she glances elsewhere and gestures towards some of the large pictures on the wall. 

“You've got a beautiful office. A beautiful home, really.”

“Thank you. I noticed you... inspecting a few things.” His smirk is brief, but she swears she saw it, making her wonder if he had caught her admiring something else entirely. 

He offers her the small glass and she sits on the firm, but luxurious sofa near the wall of windows. He takes a seat beside her, leaving a comfortable amount of space to remain appropriate. 

Anna contemplates how it makes her feel relieved and disappointed all at once, but she shakes it off, gesturing towards the skydiving picture on the wall. “Is that the boy's mom?”

He studies the small and elegant framed picture, his eyes searching the faces he finds there. “Yes, that's Alice. To think it's been five years since she passed.”

Mr. Dalton casts his eyes down, taking a sip of his bourbon, the silence slicing through her. “I’m sorry, I didn't mean…”

A somber smile crosses his lips before his expression turns neutral again. “No, it was a fair question, and certainly relevant if you're going to be a part of the boys’ lives.” He frowns as he glances at the photo again. “Sadly, they don't really remember her anymore.”

“I am very sorry.” Without thinking, she reaches out and touches his hand, but withdraws quickly when his eyes jump to meet hers. 

“Thank you, Ms. Anna. That means a lot to me. My wife and I may have only had a brief time together, but all told, I’m still a very lucky man.” He sighs deeply, and his penetrating gaze rests on her, unwavering. “What about you? You've seen the inside of my home and have a taste of what makes me tick. Tell me more about you.”

She swallows as she thinks how best to fulfill his request. “What makes me tick?”

“Precisely.” 

She takes a sip from her glass to buy some time as she thinks, his gaze still locked onto her. “I’d say... I’m driven by insatiable desire.”

Mr. Dalton coughs on his sip of bourbon.

Her eyebrows raise with concern. “Are you okay, Mr. Dalton?”

He coughs a few more times. “I’ll be fine. Perhaps that's enough bourbon for me tonight. Ahem.” He sets the glass down on the coffee table. “What, uh… what do you mean by ‘insatiable desire’ exactly?”

Their eyes meet, and she wonders if the room is only hot to her now, her word choice repeating over and over in her head. “Our entire experience of reality occurs through our senses. I indulge myself when possible, or logical, and it's made me feel so… alive.”

“Give me an example.” He says in a steady, but curious tone.

“Like… if you bite a strawberry slowly enough, the flavor absolutely bursts in your mouth. Savoring and eating are two different things, you know?” 

He swallows heavily, his eyes focused on her lips for a moment before the flash back to her eyes. “Right.”

“Did I say something wrong?” Her brow furrows and he shakes his head.

“No, not at all. On the contrary, I admire your passion. So few people share our kind of fire.” His eyes shift briefly to the photo on the wall before moving back to hers. “It can make life lonely, but it's all the sweeter when you finally encounter a kindred flame.”

Anna suddenly becomes hyper aware that they have shifted closer to each other throughout the conversation. Her breath catches as she holds his gaze, losing herself in his deep grey eyes. The silence should be more awkward given the circumstances, but it's almost comforting. 

“Anna…” Her name is like a promise on his lips, or maybe it's meant as more of a warning. 

She’s still deciding when a cool liquid runs across her hand, startling her back to reality. “Oh, no!” 

Flustered, she jumps up from the couch with her glass as Mr. Dalton pulls his handkerchief out of nowhere like a magician, doing his best to blot up the inevitable stain. 

Embarrassed, Anna covers her mouth with her free hand. “I’m sorry.”

He keeps his eyes focused on the sofa, possibly refusing to look up into hers. “It was my fault, really. No need to apologize. Let’s pretend it never happened.” He laughs softly, the corner of his eyes crinkling slightly as he stands, heading towards the cabinet under the bar to grab some cleaner for the fabric. “Chalk it up to too much bourbon in general.”

She gets the brief feeling he isn't just talking about the spill, but she's eager to put whatever that was behind her as he reaches for her glass. “Yeah, I don't usually drink that much bourbon. Or at all, really.”

He glances at her as he puts both glasses back on the tray and clears his throat. “That’s good to know. Anyway, I let the time get away from me, and I still have something to show you. Let’s continue our walk, shall we?”

“Sure thing. Lead the way.” She turns to follow him down the hall, her head still spinning as she forces herself to focus. This is Sam Dalton. Billionaire, professional, potential boss. Possible career wish genie. What is wrong with me?

“Right in here.” Anna was not prepared for his sudden pause, barely managing to stop herself from colliding with him before it was too late. 

He opens the door and she follows him inside, eyes growing wide when she realizes where they were. The room is massive, and the bed, it was probably the size of her entire apartment bedroom. She suddenly has the urge to run forward and launch herself on it, knowing it has to be an amazing mattress. 

“Ms. Anna, did you hear me?” He gives her a small, concerned smile before handing her a folded piece of paper. 

He nods at the questioning look on her face so she opens it, holding her breath as she reads the number printed at the top. Her eyes gloss over the additional benefit details as he continues.

“If you want the job, it’s yours. You can move in here…” He raises his hand to the amazing space. “...your room, tomorrow.”

“Really?” She says in mild disbelief.

Sam’s brow furrows as he gives her a curious look. “Is something wrong? I increased my normal salary amount to compensate for your higher education… I thought it would help cover remaining college expenses, but, if we need to renegotiate…”

Anna feels her eyes burn a little before her mouth falls open with an unexpected laugh. “No, no… Mr. Dalton--”

“Please, call me Sam.” He corrects her with a firm tone.

“Okay, Sam. This is… this is great. Thank you!” She impulsively steps forward and throws her arms around him in an elated hug, realizing only a second too late of her inappropriateness. 

It’s impossible to miss the feeling of every inch of his body along her own, making her skin flush at the contact. Even though she pulls back almost instantly, she doesn't miss the woody scent that invades her senses and the warmth that radiates from his tall frame. 

She shakes her head in embarrassment, letting out an awkward laugh. “I’m sorry. Again. I hope you'll excuse me. It’s just… this opportunity means so much to me.”

He blinks, swallowing hard before offering her his hand with a gentle smile. “Think nothing of it. I appreciate your enthusiasm.” His smile falls and his eyes turn serious once more. “Is it alright if the boys continue to call you Ms. Anna? I think they really like that. A few of their past nannies were more... strict.”

Anna can't help but grin as her dreams, professionally at least, were starting to come true. “Of course! Anna is perfectly fine. I can't wait to move in and get to know you and your beautiful family even more… Sam.”

He gives her a pleasant smile and nods before stepping back into the hall and walking her to the elevator door. “Goodnight, Anna Schuyler.”

---------------------------

Anna’s nerve endings tingle with pleasure as she writhes on the bed, hips gently bucking. “Yes… yes!”

His gorgeous face rises from between her legs, lips lifted on one side in a knowing smile. Her eyes trail with admiration from his deep grey, sparkling eyes to his strong jaw and chiseled biceps. She grasps at the satin sheets beneath her, a desperate attempt to anchor herself as another wave of ecstasy breaks. A strong hand entwines its fingers with hers, holding her steady.

“Don’t… stop…” She breathes out.

Sam kisses his way up her chest, settling the length of his body against hers. “I must admit, this wasn't quite how I expected your first day on the job to go...” Sam’s feather-like touch drags across her breast as his face hovers over hers. “Are you ready to work hard for me, Anna?”

“Oh… yes.” She gazes suggestively over his body. “Anything you need.”

He pins her wrists over her head and grins before trailing hot kisses down her neck and chest, his tongue teasing her nipples through her bra. “Good, because I’m afraid this job requires long hours. We might be up all night…”

Anna’s lips come together with his in a passionate kiss. She feels like she’s on fire as his hands trail down to her hips. Suddenly, he flips them over so she’s straddling him, chest to chest as both breathe heavily. 

She moans as her center makes contact with the undeniable evidence of his desire, and her hips rock against his on their own volition. “Ohhh…”

His hands trace an electric path up her spine, reaching for the clasp of her bra. “I don't think you need this anymore.”

Anna gasps as her bra falls away and he sits up, grazing his lips over the bare skin of her breast, his tongue flicking out to tease the peak. She can't seem to catch her breath as the sensations become overwhelming. Just as the wave is about to break, a loud repetitive sound interrupts the pair. 

Anna spins her head to glare at the offensive sound, blinking as her vision turns blurry and she focuses on the same horrible clock from the previous morning. She bolts upright in bed, gasping for breath as she surveys the room, seeing the drastic difference from her apparent dream. “Damn, that felt real.”

The details of the dream begin fading, but the physical effects still linger. Her nerves are quivering, her skin is sweaty, and her heart is pounding. Anna groans as she rubs her face, mumbling through her fingers. “Focus Anna, he might be attractive… but he's your boss. Potentially providing a future at Dalton Enterprises. Forget it body.”

Her hands drop to her lap and she sighs. “Oh god, I can’t believe I just had a sex dream about my new boss.”

Eventually she manages to shake it off and get up to finish packing up her stuff. About an hour, some coffee and a bagel later, Anna turns to place her last bit of clothing into a box when she locks eyes with her best friend, Jenny. Said friend is currently sitting across the small efficiency apartment Anna has called home for the last few years on one of the worst sofa’s the world has ever created. 

“Anyway, the money’s great, the kids are adorable, and Sam is…” She hesitates, deciding how honest she wants to be about her new living situation and boss. “...great.”

Jenny eyes Anna, but she ignores her. “It’s basically a great way to kill time and make an impression while I figure out what to do post-grad, and if I’m lucky… find a way into an interview at the company.” Anna shrugs.

Jenny playfully rolls her eyes. “I get it, the biotech billionaire is ‘great’, but how hot is he?” 

Anna sighs as she closes the last box and turns to sit on the mattress before she continues. “Like on a scale of ‘clothes fresh from the dryer’ to ‘I’m chugging Tabasco’, he’s…”

Jenny gives her an encouraging look and Anna laughs. “Okay, he's Tabasco. Those eyes… that hair… not to mention the body on this man.” She shakes her head and gently slaps her knee. “But he’s my boss. So nothings going to happen.”

Jenny laughs. “I have to see this for myself.” She grabs her phone and does a quick search, her eyes growing wide as she finds what she's looking for. “Damn, he’s dreamy. Lookin’ gorgeous at this charity ball, lookin’ gorgeous shaking hands with our senator…” She bites her lip for a moment and looks up at Anna. “How exactly is he not married?”

Anna frowns. “His wife passed away… about five years go now, I believe he said.”

Jenny’s face instantly mirrors Anna’s as she looks at the pictures on her phone. “Well that's incredibly sad.” Her eyes flick to Anna. “Does that mean he's single?”

Anna rolls her eyes and throws a pillow at her friend. “Oh my god, Jenny. Do you think of nothing else?”

Jenny catches it without flinching. “I’m just curious. If you're not going to think about him in that capacity, why can't I?”

After threatening to kick Jenny out of the apartment, she decides to keep her mouth shut as they take Anna’s belongings, which consist of a few boxes and bags, to the street just as a nice looking older man steps out of a sleek black town car. 

He steps around the car and holds out his hand. “Pleased to make your acquaintance, Ms. Anna. I’m Carter, the Dalton family driver, occasional backup nanny.” He chuckles and Anna can't help but smile. “I'll be at your service today to assist with your move.”

Jenny gives Anna an amused smile but remains silent as she turns back to the friendly gentleman. “Wow, okay. I've never had my own personal driver before.” 

Carter smiles and hoists several of her bags from the ground before placing them in the trunk. Jenny helps her load the remaining couple of boxes and says her goodbyes as Carter opens the door for Anna.

Once seated inside, he closes the door and goes to the driver side and starts the car up again. “I hope you enjoy being with the Dalton family Ms. Anna.” 

Her gaze is pulled from the passing buildings to find his kind eyes in the rear-view mirror. “Mr. Dalton spoke highly of you this morning. Said he feels you’re the perfect addition to this family.”

“Thanks, Carter. I really appreciate that.” She gives him a warm smile, knowing Carter is already such an addition.

When they arrive at Sam’s building, the doorman helps Carter and Anna unload the items and directs someone inside to take them up to the apartment. 

She turns to give Carter a hug, which he gladly accepts. “Thank you again, Carter. That would have taken me probably four or five trips without your help.” 

He tips his hat and nods before handing over her own elevator key for the apartment. “Of course Ms. Anna. You’re family now. Please don't hesitate to ask me for anything.”

She takes a deep breath as she enters the now familiar elevator, trying to clear her head as she thinks about the next chapter in her life. The doors open in what feels like seconds and she enters her new home.

Her eyes scan the luxurious space, still amazed by the large windows and beautiful wood floors. “I can get used to living here…”

Anna doesn't see anyone in the common space so decides not to interrupt and unpack instead. She pushes the door closed until it's just slightly ajar, intending to listen for anyone walking by. After turning to face her new room, she grins from ear to ear before launching herself onto the large bed. She lets out a sigh of relief as her body sinks into the firm but amazingly soft cloud the Dalton family apparently calls a mattress. 

“Oh yeah, I can definitely get used to living here.” She rolls over and stares through the large windows in her room. “I've never had a view that wasn't another building.”

She eventually forces herself to get up and unpack, deciding to pull her clothes out first to help avoid permanent wrinkles. Her limited hanger worthy items are safely stored in the closet, but she makes a mental note on how much additional space is available. She smiles, knowing her new income level will be a nice change from the starving student lifestyle she had grown accustomed to. 

Moving to the last duffel bag with clothing items, she grabs a stack of bras and picks a drawer in the dresser just for them. Again, she has plenty of room to expand if needed. Shrugging, she reaches back into the bag and grabs a handful of bottoms, some matching, some random, and turns towards the open drawer next to the bras. 

Anna tosses them all in, but pauses when a particular one she hadn't seen in awhile lands on top. She reaches in and picks up one of her favorite lacy pairs when she hears a knock. Startled by the sudden sound, she spins and faces the knock to find Sam peeking his head through the open door with a smile.

“I trust you’re settling in... okay?” Sam asks, his voice hesitating on the last part of his question as his eyes grow wide once landing on the obvious item in her hands.

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Thank you so much for reading! You’re all amazing and I appreciate every ounce of support I receive on my posts. Please reblog and share if you enjoyed it. Oh, and let me know what you think as well - I absolutely love to read your comments, reaction gifs, asks and messages. ❤️❤️❤️

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