#this has been a wip for so long. haunting me. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

moraxsthrone · 1 year

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◊ title — scent (phase 2)

◊ pairing — zhongli/morax x f!reader

◊ wc — 3.3k

◊ notes — guys. the way it took so long to write this bc horny. sorry not sorry. hopefully you'll find that it was worth the wait. also, i lied. this will be a 4-part series (not a 3-parter) - the ideas are coming faster than i can get them out. how fitting that i finally finished this on mother's day - just a fortunate coincidence.

◊ be warned — nsfw. mdni. feral!zhongli/morax. heat/rut. dragon features/anatomy/instincts. oral/tongue fucking (f. rcv'ing). squirting. cum drinking. rough, animalistic sex. biting/marking. knotting. breeding. scent marking. light aftercare.

← phase 1 ◊ phase 3 (wip)

...end of phase 2 (48 hours before you ovulate)...

“hey babe!” you greet your husband cheerfully while closing the door with your foot.

zhongli is sitting at the little breakfast nook that sits adjacent to your kitchen, reading a book and enjoying a cup of his favorite afternoon tea. he’s so engrossed in his novel that he doesn’t look up, just answers you with a low hum as you set the shopping bags down on the countertop. he’s mid-sip when you lean down and give him an innocent little peck on the cheek. his teacup is still pressed to his bottom lip when you twirl around and walk away from him to start putting groceries away.

he’s still looking at the book that he holds in his ungloved hand, but is oblivious to the words in front of him. his gaze slowly lifts from the pages, looking over the top of the book to watch you move around the kitchen, putting the provisions in their respective places. you’re wearing those cute little shorts and he’s willing to bet mora that you’re not wearing anything underneath if the intensity of your scent is anything to go by.

you bend over to place a couple of items in the bottom drawer of the refrigerator, unwittingly giving him a little peep show when the crease of your butt cheeks peek out from underneath those scandalous shorts. zhongli is looking closely, and sure enough, you’re not wearing any panties. what began as a small spark of heat at the base of his spine when you gave him that innocent kiss a minute ago has been ignited and is now a raging wildfire that is rapidly spreading to his loins.

you’re fertile. he can smell it, and the delicious scent of your heat has triggered his rut. it’s not something he has any control over. similarly to how he’s clenching his jaw, he’s only partially cognizant of it.

he just instinctively knows that you smell of unhad sex.

and he must have you. he must fill you with his musk and scent you. but before he does any of that, the ghost of your earthy scent is haunting the back of his tongue.

first, he must taste you.

you say something but it’s gibberish to him when all he can hear, see, smell, or taste is your heat. it must’ve started somewhere around mid-day. when he woke up next to you this morning, he could faintly smell you, which is typical. but now he is all but drowning in the rich, ripe scent of your pussy. and you aren’t even aroused yet.

but if zhongli has anything to do with it, that’s about to change.

deep down he knows that you need to be wet to receive his cock. more than that, though, he wants to smell your arousal.

you’re still busying yourself with putting away groceries, humming the song that’s been stuck in your head all afternoon, having no idea that your husband’s dick is hard, his balls are aching, and he’s about .58 seconds away from bending you over the nearest surface.

“what would you like for dinner tonight, li?” you ask, standing on your tippy toes to reach the top shelf in your pantry. but he’s too ensnared by your creamy thighs to have noticed; he couldn’t hear you over the blood pumping furiously through his veins. when you don’t get a reply, you turn around to look at him. “li?”

he blinks and clears his throat. “wh-what?”

you repeat the question, to which he stammers out a response while loosening his tie. “whatever you want is f- fine with me, dear.”

you close the pantry door and furrow your brow at him, noting his flushed complexion. he appeared to be perfectly fine a minute ago. “zhongli, are you feeling okay?” you fret, making your way over to him. at his age, he could be having a heart attack or something… “darling, you look feverish…are you coming down with something?”

you bring your hand to his forehead. he’s burning up. you’re close to him again - too close - and you’re ripe for the picking.

before he fully realizes what he’s doing, he quickly stands up, the legs of his chair skidding across the tiled floor. your eyes go wide when he grabs you by the waist and in one swift movement, your ass and thighs are unceremoniously dropped onto the surface of the small dining table in front of him. your mouth opens, but before you can say anything, it’s filled with the former archon’s tongue.

his kiss is fierce, raw. animalistic even. there’s no romance behind it, only sheer need and passion. you feel like he’ll eat you alive…but he’s only just begun. as his hot muscle swirls around yours, he wedges himself between your legs, forcing them apart with his hips. his hands are everywhere - groping, pulling, pushing: your neck, your tits, your waist, your thighs. unable to get a word in edgewise, you whine into his mouth and he finally pulls away, mouth still open with a thread of saliva connecting your lips.

“zh- hahh-” you whimper when you feel his teeth on your neck.

he’s not biting you (yet). he’s merely keeping you where he wants you while he brands you with his mark. you wonder what’s gotten into him as his hand massages your naked thigh. he’s only like this when you-

oh.

has it been two weeks already? it seems like only yesterday that the two of you were talking about maybe starting a family.

a little mewl escapes your lips as the thought hazily occurs to you that you haven’t kept up with your cycle. but it’s okay…you haven’t had to because he has.

knowing your husband’s draconic rut has been triggered by your heat sends a pang of desire shooting to your core and you moan for him. his mating pheromones go undetected by your human sense of smell; however, the reptilian part of your brain is pinging like crazy, telling your body it’s time to breed.

you’re frantically working to unbutton his shirt, your bare legs encircling his hips, but he pries them apart again with a low grunt. he hooks his hands behind your knees, making you yelp when you’re jerked forward, his forgotten teacup rattling against its saucer when your back hits the table. he’s looking down at you, lips parted, eyes glowing, dark scales appearing briefly above his open collar before diminishing again - evidence that as feral as he seems right now, he’s still able to hold himself back…for now.

zhongli never breaks eye contact with you when he curls his brilliantly glowing fingers into the waistband of your shorts, his rich amber eyes boring into your very soul as his chest rises and falls. he yanks on the cloth barrier so hard you hear the stitching surrender to his power as your ass is forced upwards off the wooden surface.

the scent of your pussy is filling every one of his senses…it’s almost all he can even feel. he’s dying to taste you. needs to taste you as though your slick is holy water and he is a sinner. inside his tented pants, zhongli’s cock is glowing, leaking, throbbing. there’s a dark spot forming on the cloth as proof. he needs to shove his readied cock inside you like the desert needs rain, but first he’s dying to drink you. your scent is so palpable he can taste you on the back of his tongue and it’s driving him insane.

beads of sweat are collecting at his hairline as he picks up where you left off with unbuttoning his shirt. but he quickly loses patience and tears it away from his shoulders with a clipped growl, a couple of buttons flying off and landing gods know where in the process. he’s shirtless now, his beautiful arms glowing and carbon black scales emerging on the tops of his shoulders.

he pushes your thighs back towards your chest and lowers his face to your cunt. he just hovers there for a moment and breathes you in, his eyes rolling back in his head as they flutter closed. the distinct scent of your arousal combined with your readiness to breed sends a new rush of blood to his cock and it jumps in his pants.

“zhongli…please…” you keen for him, and he drops to his knees to worship at your altar.

normally, he’d take his time with you - ghost his lips along your inner thighs, kiss around your labia, tease you just a little. but he doesn’t have the patience for that right now.

he descends on your cunt, his open, watering mouth latching onto your aching clit, his long tongue circling it for a moment before he plunges it inside you.

gods, your flavor.

he tongue fucks you, filling you with a long, deep moan because you taste so fucking good to him. your hands fly to his earth-colored hair - something to ground you while he devours you. you can feel the hitch of his hot breath on your labia, not knowing that the golden tip of his cock is glowing and rubbing deliciously against the rough material of his trousers as he rocks his pelvis into nothing. pulling his tongue out, he licks a long, wide stripe up to your clit again.

you hear your name in his deep, even voice and open your eyes. “look at me when i’m eating your cunt,” he commands, and you comply. far be it from you to go against your husband’s - your god’s - wishes.

zhongli’s diamond-shaped pupils have been replaced by serpentine slits that hold your gaze while he sucks your soul from your hard bud, growling and tugging at it with the suction of his lips as his hips jerk, rubbing the moist head of his cock against the front seam of his slacks.

“hhhh~ li…fuck, feels so good baby, yes…” you praise him, but he already knows how good he’s making you feel. your husband mastered your body long ago. he knows your tells, the meaning behind every little sound you make. he can anticipate the way your body will move before he even touches you. but more than that, he can smell your growing lust.

he hums in appreciation and gives your clit several hard flicks with his flexed tongue, making you whine before thrusting his long, wet muscle into your pussy again. you buck your hips against his face, but his strong hands are spread over the backs of your thighs, holding them back. he curls his tongue inside you, pulling it along your walls, lapping at your juices.

you lightly pinch your nipples, rolling them between your fingers and pulling on them gently as zhongli returns his attention to your throbbing clit. he flicks it then flattens his tongue and drags it up and down, back and forth, the texture of his tastebuds rough against your tight little bundle of nerves. at the same time, you feel two of his fingers press against your hole.

“ohh- oh fuck, li!” you whine for him as he slips them inside, working them knuckle-deep in search of the spot that he knows so, so well. he finds it quickly with great ease, and begins massaging it with his fingertips while his lips and tongue work your clit over.

his hair is a mess in your hands; you’re a mess on your dining table. you can feel the cocktail of your need and your husband’s spit trickle down to your ass crack, knowing you’re about to make a mess in his mouth. but that’s exactly what he wants. he doubles down and starts tugging on your g-spot, moaning when he feels you tightening around his fingers.

zhongli knows you’re close, so close.

he continues to hump the air reflexively, sucking your clit harder, pulling it deeper between his wet lips as though he’s trying to swallow you whole.

“haahhh!” you gasp. “fuck, baby!” you fist his dark brown locks between your fingers. “zhongli…ohgodyou’regonnamakemecum!”

he releases your clit with a wet pop and you feel your abused little pearl being flicked furiously back and forth over the tip of his sinfully skilled tongue. your head rolls back on the table, briefly glimpsing your kitchen behind you before you squeeze your eyes closed.

your pelvis is rocking helplessly against your husband’s soaked face but his lips are latched securely around your clit when your cum squirts inside his waiting mouth. his brow knits and he groans against you as he swallows again and again, drinking you down to the last drop. it makes him impossibly harder and his aching testicles are heavy, full of his sperm that he needs to release inside you.

with his craving for your juices temporarily sated, the raging need in zhongli's loins is now fueling his prime directive:

breed.

he stands and lifts you up, bringing you to your feet before spinning you around and pushing your chest down onto the table. you whimper, pussy clenching at zhongli's show of physical power. your pebbled nipples rake across the surface below when he ruts his hips against your butt, and you can finally appreciate just how hard he is. he could’ve taken you on your back, but he’s primally driven and compelled beyond reason to mount you from behind.

zhongli the funeral consultant now more closely resembles morax the god of old. he’s even starting to show signs of his dragon form and operating purely on instinct at this point. your scent has become more complex, nuanced - the way you smell when you’re approaching fertility combined with your arousal, and now the mixture of his saliva and your cum…

there’s only one scent missing.

from behind you comes the tinkling of his belt buckle and the sound of his zipper. zhongli pushes his pants down just far enough to free his cock and testicles before he’s bending over you. you know his fangs have emerged when you feel them drag lightly across the back of your neck. his breath is hot and his cock is so hard, bouncing eagerly against your wet folds, drooling precum onto the floor below.

he spreads your ass apart with his strong radiant hands, kneading and pushing and squeezing bruises into your soft, sensitive flesh. you keen, bending lower, arching your back as you fold your arms and rest the side of your face on the hard surface beneath you.

“zhong- hhhn fuck…” is all you can manage when the tip of his erection bumps against your clit. gods, the way your scent hits him when you beg him to put his cock in.

his cockhead bounces along your slit a few more times before it finally catches on your hole and he thrusts in hard with a low grunt. the way it glides in, hard and slippery because you’re so ready for your mate to claim you, preening and presenting for him like a cat in heat.

his jaw flexes at the way you choke on your cries when your hip bones dig into the edge of the surface he’s fucking you into. it hurts, and there will be bruises later, but you can’t bring yourself to stop or slow him down. his cock feels too good filling you up so full, tugging at your gushy walls, the ridge of his cockhead peeking out every time he retreats, then splitting you apart when his hips slam against your ass again.

he hunches over you, fully mounting you, his tail having emerged and wrapping around your leg to hike it up and hold your bent knee out to the side so he can break your pussy off harder, deeper. your cheeks are streaked with wet eyeliner when the fuzzy tip of his tail tickles your clit, your juices getting it wet.

zhongli isn’t fucking you anymore - morax is the one driving his fat cock into your squelching cunt now. there are those who would clutch their pearls at the idea of being bent over a table and fucked by an archon, but your eyes are rolling back in your head at the feeling of being spread open by his celestial dick. for you, it’s a matter of course. he’s your husband - you’ve been in love with him for years and you adore him in every one of his iterations, even if you have your own special ways of worshiping him.

your feral god-husband’s vividly glowing arms are wrapped tightly around your sweaty chest, the wooden legs of your dining table scuffing the floor as he grunts in your ear. “fuck, that’s my good girl. taking my cock so well. so ready to take my seed, yeah?…”

“y-yes! need your cum, morax! breed me, my lord hahh~”

he loves it when you call him by his ancient name. it reminds him that he’s still got it - the power and virility of his youth. he swears under his breath, digging his talons into your hips as he yanks you back on his cock. it’s too much. it’s too much and he feels his balls pull tighter against his body when he growls and snarls behind you. you whimper at the feeling of his knot swelling deep inside you, knowing it’s forcing your walls open so he can pump you full of his sperm. he opens his mouth and bites down on the back of your neck with a deep, guttural growl.

you cry out the god’s name again and again, chanting for him, urging him to cum for you as his big, scaly tail tightens around your trembling thigh. the soft tuft of orange fur at the tip is matted with your juices. it licks and lashes against your clit as his humanoid hips dig into the plush of your ass, snapping against you in fits and starts.

“ohh-oh, morax, gonna cum for you!”

dark brown scales shimmer and separate along his spine as it curls with every frantic pump of his pelvis.

“that’s it, my dear. cum on my cock…now!” he orders.

you tense and throw it back on him as you fall apart on his cock. his balls contract in their sac as you milk his ready, sensitive length, choking on your own sobs of his archon name when he throws his head back with a roar and cums hard. the first ribbon of his divine seed splashes against your clenching walls, his cock jerking violently as he empties his full balls deep inside your womb, coating your messy insides with his hot, sticky semen.

◊ ◊ ◊

his sweaty chest is heaving against your back, his lungs filling and collapsing as the waves of his orgasm slowly fade. you can feel the heat of his labored breath as he licks and kisses the bite marks on the back of your neck, making you coo at him for soothing the pain. your husband can smell the oxytocin as it floods your brain; he instinctively knows to remain close to you in these crucial moments of bonding. dragons mate for life, so he’s biologically coded to crave the loving attachment just as much as you do.

nuzzling his nose behind your ear, zhongli mutters his love and appreciation for you, making you smile weakly with the side of your face still resting on the table. he leaves lazy kisses on your neck and you feel his smile against your moist skin when you tell him how happy it would make you to be the mother of his young.

he still has a full erection, his balls filling up with more seed. he’ll need to release again soon. he slowly pulls out of you, a mess of his cum and your slick spilling onto the floor below when the bulbous head of his cock pops out of your tight ring.

you’re jolted from your dreamy afterglow, eyes opening wide as you yelp, suddenly finding yourself being carried bridal style towards your bedroom. now that he has scented you with his musk, zhongli wants to take you to your shared nest where he can begin breeding you in earnest. he can sense that you’re still hours away from ovulation, but he’s going to keep your womb so swollen with his seed, so full of billions of his sperm - ready and waiting to swarm your fertile egg the moment it drops.

← phase 1 ◊ phase 3 (wip)

◊ zhongli/morax m.list

this is dedicated to my zhongli sisterwife @crystalflygeo whose utterly fearless, shameless style of writing has filled my morax spank bank inspired me to write with bold and wild abandon. i can't even fully fathom the sheer number of ideas this wonderful human being has filled my head with. we share (1) singular zhongli brain cell and i love her with my whole heart. she literally begged me to write this fic so you all have her to thank for it.

3K notes · View notes

gffa · 8 months

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Okay, so it was a month since my last BATFAMILY fic recs set, but in my defense a) huge life changes and b) I did a quick count up of how many recs I had built up and it was literally well over a million words. A million words! In one recs set! And this is like the seventh one of these that I've done! And I still have at least a thousand fics on my reader that I haven't started! Because this fandom has seriously not just consumed my brain, but given me absolutely amazing stuff to read that scratches all the itches I desperately have--well, okay, scratches the itch I have for my Dick Grayson Problem, but same thing.

I've really needed some escapism lately and being able to laugh or cry or just sink into a nice, long novella or even novel-length fic has really been a godsend has done a lot to soothe me and help me process feelings that sometimes otherwise can feel too overwhelming to deal with. All while also giving me the exploration of issues or decompression time with the characters' issues that the canon itself doesn't have the space for. So, I hope this list can give others something to read in the way it has given me so much that I've loved and brought me joy or emotional catharsis, because fandom has been really incredible about Bringing The Good Stuff and I want to repay the favor!

BATFAM FIC RECS - BABY DICK IS THE CUTEST FERAL ROBIN I'M NOT HEARING ANY ARGUMENTS: ✦ The Halfway Point by Sugarcookie222, dick & bruce & alfred & clark, 5k After a miscommunication with Bruce, a 13-year-old Dick runs away. He makes it as far as a diner in a nearby state. Bruce had left to finalize the adoption papers but clearly needs to work on his communication skills. He calls Superman in a panic to help him find Dick.

✦ be safe, they said (be good) by deargalileo, bruce & dick & alfred, 4k there's a tree in the wayne's backyard. a very specific tree, one that seems to attract daring children like bees to honey. unfortunately for the children, it is not a tree that is suited for climbing. fortunately for the children, they have fathers who are there to stitch them up.

✦ a haunted ballroom by lothIoriens, bruce & dick & alfred, 11.9k wip When Dick stumbles across the ghosts of Wayne Manor dancing the night away in an abandoned wing of the house, he thinks that, finally, something might be normal again. But the ghosts are nervous, and he doesn't know why. Something is brewing underneath the surface of Wayne Manor, and it's up to Dick to find out what it is—and it's up to Bruce to make sure nothing happens to his charge in the meantime.

✦ Straight On Til Morning by audreycritter, bruce & dick, 1.2k Bruce wakes Dick up on a school night to show him the sky. It dredges up memories for Dick, and it would be a disaster, except it’s Bruce. And Bruce understands.

✦ (More) Pressing Matters by Syl, bruce & dick, 39.2k Dick Grayson arrives at Wayne Manor, a cold empty place, shortly after his parents' murder: A re-telling of the Boy Wonder's well-known origin story.

✦ First Action Hero by Goldmonger, bruce & dick & clark & cast, 3.5k “Jerkwads,” Dick said darkly, taking Clark’s hand. He looked up at him then, dressed smartly in a black suit and tie, and wearing converses with Sonic the Hedgehog on them. “You okay, Uncle Clark?”

✦ Lil Birdy Wants to Fly by lil_taair, bruce & dick, 3.8k Bruce would have usually appreciated the cheeky smile that was directed at him if his son wasn’t 25 fucking feet off the ground

✦ World's Finest: Fortress of Friendship by WingFeathers, bruce & dick & clark & diana, 6.9k Finally, Dick talks Bruce into letting him see the Fortress of Solitude – provided that Dick stay safe and out of the way while the Trinity discusses some Secret Important Business about a certain young Amazon. Clark promises that the Fortress will be safe, but is that a promise he can make?

✦ Stolen Son by springfox (dallystrings), bruce & dick & jim, 8.6k Dick is excited to visit an American mall for the first time, and Bruce struggles to understand the difference between 'guardian' and 'dad'.

✦ Comfort Food by motleyfam, bruce & dick, ~1k Dick struggles to find his appetite in the aftermath of his parents’ deaths.

✦ The meaning of justice by Fleur_de_Violette, bruce & dick & babs & cast, 4.6k As Bruce drives toward Gotham Academy, he tries to imagine all the possible reasons for the principal to call him. He has a lot of imagination. Especially when it comes to bad things happening to Dick. Still, his ward being a suspect for attempted murder hadn’t been on his list.

✦ The Question Game by Santana2, dick & bruce, 1.3k Basketball can be a very enlightening game if you play it right. Little expansion on Robin's part in Downtime

✦ Cat's Eat Birds by Nightwing_DC_2112, dick & bruce & selina & cast, 12k After a run in with the Scarecrow Robin is separated from Batman fighting off the effects of Crane's Fear Toxin when an unlikely ally steps in to prevent him getting into further trouble.

✦ World's Finest Mini Issue: Happy Birthday by WingFeathers, bruce & dick (& minor clark/bruce & alfred), 1.8k Bruce hoped for an emergency to get him out of his birthday party. He just didn’t want Dick to be the one in need of help. BATFAM FIC RECS - ADULT BATSON AND BATDAD ARE MY KRYPTONITE, I FOLD LIKE WET CARDBOARD FOR THEM: ✦ Truth Serum is the Worst by JackHawksmoor, dick & bruce, 3.1k Batman gets dosed with a truth serum and unexpectedly spends most of the time talking about how desperately he loves his children, how awesome they are, and how he wishes he was better at being a father.

✦ Holy Time Travel Fuckery, Batmen by That_One_Curly_Haired_Fangirl, dick & bruce, 4.4k Batman is dead, and Dick has reluctantly taken up the mantle. So then why are there four Batmen, all clearly Bruce, standing in front of him on this rooftop?

✦ The Waking World by Fairy527, dick & bruce, 2.2k This isn’t the first time Dick has gone to Bruce after a nightmare. However, this is the first time his nightmare has involved Bruce's murder at his own hands, and it doesn't settle well.

✦ More Alike Than You'll Ever Admit coffeeandchocolate, dick & bruce, 1.2k Dick Grayson has always been there alongside Batman. So if no one else is going to acknowledge that his first year wearing the cowl was harder, well, he's just going to have to do it himself. After Bruce returns from being lost in time, he and his eldest argue.

✦ Almost, Nearly by CKBookish, dick & bruce & jason & cast, 8.1k Dick was just supposed to go with him to lunch. He wasn't supposed to get shot. He wasn't supposed to be bleeding out in the pouring rain on the steps of Wayne Enterprises. But then Bruce hadn't expected that sniper and he had seen it far to late. BATFAM FIC RECS - EVERYBODY LOVES DICK: ✦ Behind Granite and Lime by JeanjacketCarf, dick & bruce & jason & tim & barbara & cass, 14.5k wip Cassandra had noticed. Of course, she noticed. That was the problem, she couldn’t turn it off. She always had to see, always had to know. So she knew when Dick came back from his mission that something was wrong. Or something is off with Dick. Hopefully, it doesn't have anything to do with those murders.

✦ Soup's On by HoodEx, dick & donna, 2k Taking care of Dick never feels like a burden, it feels like an instinct. And Donna's really good at following her instincts.

✦ to dream away a sleepless night by waffle-wonder (cosmic_croissant), dick & bruce & jason & tim & damian & cass & stephanie & duke, 2.7k Dick was fine. He was fine. Sure, he was having a little trouble focusing on unlocking his apartment door, but that didn’t mean anything. Or- Dick is exhausted. His family catches him when he falls.

✦ Temporary by daringyounggrayson, bruce & dick & alfred & cast, 14.8k The double homicide at Haly’s Circus is not Bruce’s first case involving a child, and while there's no overt indication that Bruce should react differently to this case, he supposes that his previous cases did not involve the witness known as Dick Grayson. On the surface, the Grayson case seems like any other gang case, but the more time Bruce spends with the boy, the more he begins to doubt his own instincts.

✦ To the Moving and the Strange by SilverSkiesAtMidnight, dick & bruce & alfred & tim & cast, 6k Thankfully, Alfred tips his head in acknowledgement. “I do,” he agrees. “I remember a great many things. But I have forgotten things too, and I expect as time goes on, more of them will slip away from me, and it’s entirely possible that I won’t even notice they’re gone. My memories of them will simply be… less.” Dick looks at him, studying the lines of his weathered face. “Does that ever make you feel like... like if you loved them more, you’d remember them?”

✦ better luck nest time by ScarlettSwordMoon, dick & bruce & jason & tim & damian & cass & steph & duke & cast, 47k wip Feeling as if Dick’s family does not appreciate him enough, an alternate Earth version of Babs turns Dick into a bird. Now each member of the Batfamily must confess something to him if they ever want to see Dick as a human again. AKA The tale of a family and their birb.

✦ deep roots (are not reached by the frost) by fanfictiongreenirises, bruce & dick & jason & tim & damian & cass & cast, de-aged!dick, 85.2k wip Dick gets reverted to a younger self after being kidnapped on during a case. But this is far from a routine de-aging.

✦ Bludhaven Police Department by Lady_of_Lorule, bruce & dick & jason & tim & barbara & amy & donna & wally & cast, 31.1k Sgt. Amy Rohrbach learns that her partner, rookie cop Dick Grayson, is not what he seems. Or how Amy finds out that Dick Grayson is the heir to the entire Wayne fortune, the vigilante Nightwing, the leader of the Titans, and meets some of the Batfam and the Titans along the way. BATFAM FIC RECS - DICK AND DAMIAN WERE THE BEST BATMAN & ROBIN, I'M NOT HEARING ARGUMENTS ABOUT THAT EITHER: ✦ Too Many Walls and Not Enough Bridges by CamsthiSky, dick & damian, 3.7k There's something bothering Damian. Dick's determined to help Damian feel comfortable enough to share it.

✦ All The Small Things by Geeves, dick & damian & bruce & cast, 20.1k After Bruce's return to the Bat, Dick and Damian have to deal with just being brothers, but things are just a bit too messy to be that easy BATFAM FIC RECS - BATKIDS ALL HAVE MANY SIBLINGS AND THEY'RE ALL PETTY ASSHOLES AND/OR WONDERFUL BABIES AND I LOVE THEM WITH MY WHOLE BEING: ✦ Do-over by mx_chrx99, dick & jason & todd & damian & steph, 6.2k Jason never really got to do the "family vacation" thing. Neither did Tim, Steph, or Damian. Dick did, but that was ages ago. Now's their chance to make up for lost time.

✦ pick up off the floor by deargalileo, dick & jason & bruce, 3k there was a lump on Bruce's office floor. a Dickwing shaped lump.

✦ the trials and tribulations of fatherhood by InkpotSprite, bruce & dick & jason & tim, 2k Dick, Jason and Tim compete to see who was the worst child. The answer surprises them all. On an unrelated note, Bruce is wondering if adoptions are a lifetime deal, or if they can be undone.

✦ A Time To Reflect by Experimental_Muse, bruce & dick & jason & tim & damian & cass & duke & alfred, time travel, 14.5k Bruce finds himself stuck in the past, and while waiting for the league to pick him up, struggles to get along with his past self. Plus being in a practically empty manor is a bigger adjustment than he'd like to admit. BATFAM FIC RECS - SOMETIMES YOU JUST THINK BRUCE AND DIANA SHOULD KISS IT OUT: ✦ One equal temper of heroic hearts by victoria_p (musesfool), bruce/diana, nsfw, 1.5k Bruce and Diana reconcile at Nanda Parbat.

✦ Thanksgiving at the Kents by starknjarvis, bruce/diana & cast, 8.9k Clark convinces Diana to come to the farm for Thanksgiving, and Diana finally gets the chance to meet Bruce's kids. There are far more of them than she had expected.

✦ Escape Artistry by David Hines (hradzka), bruce/diana & cast, 24.2k Wonder Woman is eager to learn new things. Batman, less so. Primarily JL animated continuity; some comic elements from as far back as the Golden Age. Complete. BATFAM FIC RECS - I WILL DIE ON THE HILL THAT TIM DRAKE'S TRUE LOVE INTEREST IS CONNER KENT AND NOBODY CAN STOP ME, NOT EVEN GOD: ✦ Will you die for (marry) me? by Ididloveyou_once, tim/kon & cassie & bart & cast, 7.8k Tim sacrifices himself on a mission and lives. Conner hates that. They struggle through the aftermath.

✦ A Saturday Evening by malcyon, tim/kon & clark/lois & jonathan kent/martha kent & kara, 13.8k Kon invites Tim over for dinner. Tim's not sure if he should have accepted that invitation.

✦ Sending all my love to you by Paintedqueen, tim/kon, 10.9k wip Conner and Tim get blasted into New Earth where they meet an old friend.

✦ Composed of Us by starlikeknight, tim/kon & bruce & dick & cast, 37.1k wip Or, a spiralling Tim clones a baby without thinking about the consequences. And there are many, many consequences. BATFAM FIC RECS - I SAY THIS IS A BATFAM REC LIST BUT SOMETIMES YOU JUST GOTTA SHOVE THOSE ASSHOLES OUT OF THE WAY AND READ SOME SUPERFIC: ✦ All these things (that I'll never know) by Paintedqueen, conner & clark & kara & jonathan & implied tim/kon & cast, 12.7k Kon-El's journey on what it means to be Kryptonian.

✦ birthday bash by yeeyee123, conner & clark & jon & tim/kon, 11.8k Kon’s pumped that Clark has brought him in to help put together Jon’s 8th birthday party. No really, he is! Just don’t ask him directly about it, or he may need to go leave the room and take a breather. Inhaling helium gas from all those balloons isn’t good for you, you know?

✦ Catching Icarus by Fantasyfire, conner & clark & justice league, 24.8k wip A bad encounter with magic banishes Superboy into another world. Stranded, the Kryptonian clone must deal with a whole new league and a much different Superman.

✦ Nobody's Child by Kizmet, clark & conner & lois & ma kent & pa kent & cast, 18k Superboy is deaged. While Young Justice looks for a cure Batman sticks Clark Kent with babysitting duties. BATFAM FIC RECS - TAKE THE ANGST DIAL, TURN IT UP TO ELEVEN, AND BREAK THE KNOB OFF, THAT'S WHAT I'M HERE FOR: ✦ Adeamus by miss_aphelion, bruce & dick & stephanie & damian & jason & tim & clark & cast, 32k I'll always be there to catch you, Bruce had promised him once. Dick would like to believe it hadn’t been meant as a threat at the time. (or; Bruce takes over Gotham to keep his sons safe, but he’s already trained Dick too well to always protect others first)

✦ Gorgon’s eyes by Fleur_de_Violette, bruce & dick & jason & tim & damian & barbara & cast, 9k Dick will give time to his family. He’s just came back as Nightwing after being undercover in Spyral; he understands that they won’t forgive him immediately. Except, when an encounter with neurotoxin leaves him completely paralyzed, he has no choice but to rely on them.

✦ bad signal by prismatical, bruce & dick & jason & tim & damian & cass & cast, 38.4k The rescue mission went well. Nightwing is safe. Everything should be alright. Right?

✦ And The Crown Will Sing by ScarlettSwordMoon, bruce & dick & jason & tim & damian & barbara & cast, read the tags, 84.7k wip After an encounter with alien technology, Bruce re-evaluates some previously held ideals. Gotham doesn’t need a Knight, she needs a King. Bruce will do whatever it takes to secure his rightful place as ruler of Gotham. He will do whatever it takes to keep his sons by his side. Even if it means breaking them in first. [Dark Bruce Wayne, eventual Dark Batfam]

✦ borderline by TheResurrectionist, bruce & dick & jason & tim & damian & cass & steph, 22.7k wip A mysterious force connects the Batfamily's minds together.

✦ Parting is all we Know of Heaven by Sword_Kallya, dick & bruce & jason & tim & damian & amy, suicidal ideation, 11.9k Three months after Batman returns from the timestream, Dick Grayson has disappeared.

✦ Behind Granite and Lime by JeanjacketCarf, dick & bruce & jason & tim & damian & barbara & cass & cast, read the tags, 18k wip Cassandra had noticed. Of course, she noticed. That was the problem, she couldn’t turn it off. She always had to see, always had to know. So she knew when Dick came back from his mission that something was wrong. Or something is off with Dick. Hopefully, it doesn't have anything to do with those murders.

✦ A Little Out of the Ordinary by dizarys, tim & dick & conner & slade & cast, 1.5k A boot scraped against stone at the same time pain seared through Tim’s chest, radiating from one sharp, jabbing point. With a gasping wheeze, he tried to grab at it. But his arms refused to move.

✦ Override Two: Family Protocol by zombiesbecrazy, dick & bruce & jason & tim & damian & barbara & cass & cast, talon!dick, 78.3k When faced with an impossible and inescapable situation, Dick does the only thing left that he can do to save his family. Surrender himself to the Court of Owls to become their Talon in exchange for their lives.

✦ Weekend Commute by CKBookish, bruce & dick & jason & tim & donna & wally & cast, 7.4k Dick Grayson makes his way home during the first snow fall of the year, when he finds himself confused and cold, miles from home.

✦ What These Hands Have Done by WinterSky101, bruce & dick & jason & tim & damian & cass & steph & alfred & cast, 14k Dick is mind controlled into attacking his family. Unsurprisingly, he takes the whole thing very badly.

✦ birdsong by ScarlettSwordMoon, bruce & dick & jason & tim & damian & steph & cast, 22.7k After getting a face full of Scarecrow’s newest toxin, Dick isn’t haunted by his typical nightmares. No. This one has little green pixie boots. AKA Batman: Ego but make it Robin.

✦ New Krypton by Hawkstout, dick & clark & bruce & cast, read the tags, 15.9k wip Robin is captured by the Kryptonians and put under the care of Kal-El, the man he has known as Superman. Kal-El wants to do his best for Robin and keep the boy safe and healthy. He's fond of him. They were friends once. He hopes that once Robin understands the invasion of his home is for the best that he will grow to see him as a guardian, maybe even as a father. But Robin doesn't need another father. He needs a way to escape.

✦ i was not born to drown by daringyounggrayson, bruce & dick & tim & damian & donna & wally & roy & cast, 25.2k Or: After getting shot by Doctor Hurt, Dick develops chronic migraines.

✦ Running Headlong into My Arms by gleesquid, bruce/selina & dick & jason & tim & damian & barbara & cass & steph & alfred & cast (& some minor pairings), 54.2k Bruce doesn’t like to credit one thing for saving his life, but if he did, it would be Haly’s Circus that Friday night in September, just as summer was beginning to die. (He'll always be a sucker for kids with sad eyes, no parents, and more fight than the world knows what to do with.) Or: in a universe where superheroes don't exist, Bruce Wayne finds his family.

✦ Waking In The Night Light by I_Have_To_Get_Off_This_Planet, bruce & dick & jason & tim & cass, 7.1k Aside from the soft pitter-pattering of rain against the window, it’s quiet in the room. Tranquil, Bruce thinks. Or at least, as tranquil as a hospital room can get. BATFAM FIC RECS - THROW BABY DICK AT BATTISON, C'MON DO IT, IT'LL BE HILARIOUS: ✦ take these broken wings and learn to fly by fishingclocks, dick & bruce & alfred, 49.2k wip or, How Dick Grayson Burrowed His Way Inextricably into the Heart of Bruce Wayne

✦ A Bat and his Birds by SalParadiseLost, bruce & dick & jason & tim, 3.1k Bruce Wayne adopts a child on impulse... and then another... and then another. He doesn't know what he's doing, but somehow it doesn't end up too bad except for the fact that his kids think he's a vampire.

#lumi.txt #dc #batfam #bruce wayne #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #damian wayne #barbara gordon #cassandra cain #conner kent #clark kent #timkon #wonderbat #fic recs #batman fic recs #long post

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 8 months

Text

Shameless

Sequel to Graceless

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon, manipulation, dejection, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: The reader attempts to move past her ruination, but is reminded of her tarnish conscience at every turn. (Regency AU, tall!reader)

Character: Steve Rogers, Thor Odinson

Note: Here we are. The sequel but not the end.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you like I love coffee and that’s a lot and probably unhealthy. Take care. 💖

The string of the glove’s seam trails loosely from the thumb. You twist the thread, playing with it, but doing little to mend it. Even with a needle in hand, you have no whim to darn. There are many things in life that cannot be repaired no matter how you try. Occurrences which cannot be taken back.

You pull at the seam until a hole forms in it. You poke your finger through with no heed for the glove’s integrity. You detest that pair anyhow. The very same you wore… that day.

Albina lays at the foot of the bed, her head bent back over the edge as she peruses one of her novellas. Hannah and Cora disappeared ages ago and you only just heard them through the windows. They are likely causing chaos in the gardens. You hope your mother finds them and issues a reprimand for their immaturity.

The autumn thins the air as it creeps in around the window frame and you smell that discerning scent of dirt and leaves. Only a week and it feels as if the whole world has changed seasons. Your world has transformed irrevocably.

There’s a clatter and you glance over as Albina rolls onto her side. She’s always hated to be disturbed amid her stories. She huffs and falls onto her back to begin again, but the door bursts open, your two other sisters tromping through with excitement.

Albina shuts her book loudly and sighs as she sits up. You go back to your exploration of the glove, watching the thread stretch along the seam as you tug. If only that were Cora. If only you could rent her pretty hair from her pretty head. Or in the least, swat the smug grin from her lips.

You can’t even look at her. It just makes you think of him. Of how stupid you’d been. You believed his promises were meant for you but it’s only as you relive that haunting episode every night that you realise, he never proclaimed his intent for you, only alluded to a vague offer. Another mean trick.

“Lord Rogers has sent a gift,” Cora trills as she stands at the vanity, shuffling something unseen before her. Hannah stands at her side, bouncing with anticipation.

“Oh, what do you think it is?” Hannah chimes.

“Could you not unveil it in the sunroom, where there is no one reading?” Albina says as she drags herself to the edge of the bed, resting her book on her skirts.

“Could you not get your head out of those ridiculous fancies,” Cora retorts over her shoulder, “if you ever do for long enough, you might just find a husband too.”

You don’t look up. You refuse to give her the satisfaction. You haven’t missed her wandering glances, how she taunts you without even a word. She turns back to her gift and rustles beneath the thick paper.

“Oh, heavens,” she swoons and spins, “isn’t it beautiful?”

“Are those rubies?” Hannah preens.

“I think.”

“Garnet?” Albina suggests.

“No, no, surely they are rubies,” Cora insists. “Do you see?” She swirls around the room closer to you, “I must find the perfect gown to wear with this. Oh, he would fawn to see me in his ribbon, wouldn’t he, sister?”

You grip the glove tight as her figure looms over you. With your other hand, you clutch the needle, letting it jab into your palm until your eyes prick. You nod, “very beautiful.”

You stand the moment you get the words free of your dry throat. You try to smile but can only muster a strained grimace. You try to step past Cora but she moves with you.

“You’ve not even looked,” she says, “how would know how beautiful it is?”

“Cora, please.”

“No, no, have a look. It’s so elegant, isn’t it?”

You clamp your lips together. Your insides tangle painfully. Even as the tenderness leaves the bruises in your thighs, you swear they hurt just as much as the day after. You sniff.

“Please, move out of my way,” you beg.

“Oh, sister, why must you be so dour? Is that jealousy I sense?”

“No,” you snarl. Jealousy. Oh, something much deeper, something agonizing. “I said move.”

“Move? Well, it looks like I am the first to wear a title so it is me who should be issuing the orders, don’t you think?”

“Oh, Cor, you are not duchess yet,” Albina reproaches, “let her pass.”

The heat rises up your back and crawls onto your neck. You feel like you’re suffocating. You feel like the walls are closer together, as if the world is hewn in fire. It is all burning down around you.

“She is being a sour little brat about it, Al,” Cora snaps, “it isn’t fair of her to ruin my engagement. I don’t know where she ever got the idea that Lord Rogers had any mind for h–”

You don’t think. You need to get out of here. You shove Cora out of your way and stomp past her as she gasps. You drop the glove as the needle sinks further into your palm. You sweep out of the door and hurry down the corridor. You hear her, whining pitifully as you flee.

“She shoved me! She–”

“Oh, you did goad her,” Albina’s quiet scolding follows you to the stairs, “put that ribbon away, you’ll only ruin it.”

Ruin…

The word clings to you as you barrel down the stairs, as if running from your own shame and anger. You love your sister, you would never wish anything horrid on her, but you can’t help that small whisper in your mind that suggests that Lord Rogers may just treat her as cruelly as he has done you.

💙

The autumn continues its slow advance, nipping in the air and at the foliage alike. You smell the crispness as it wafts through the open window of the carriage, cooling the cluster of bodies within. Your father rides with the driver, guffawing loudly with the clop of hooves. Your mother fans herself as she needles away with her relentless critique.

…Albina, push your shoulders back; Hannah, keep your lips shut tight, you don’t need horseflies wandering in; You, fix your bonnet, it is dipping at the front; Oh, Cora, isn’t that a lovely ribbon…

You try not to mope. The more you do, the more pleasure Cora takes in her victory. You will forget it, you will go on as you’ve ever done. Dejected. You fold one hand around the other, your palm tender from the bite of the needle still wrought into your flesh.

You look up as the carriage slows. The lush green of the promenade tinges with edges of russet and patches of goldenrod. Lords and ladies stroll along the brickwork walkway, skirts swishing around languid steps, arms hooked in one another, others perched upon benches or huddled around the grand fountain at the center.

Your father climbs down as the driver unlatches the door. Your mother emerges first, her fan clapping shut sharply and knocking against the frame. Cora is second, then Albina, Hannah, and yourself. You come out behind them and feel your height all the more. You hunch and grip your wrist tight.

“Do not slouch,” your mother looks back and raps your arm with her fan, “no lord wants to walk alongside a hobbling giant.”

“Yes, mother,” you correct yourself and let your vision drift off into a vacant blur.

“Ladies,” a familiar timbre approaches with a pair of footsteps, “you’ve arrived.”

You refuse to look at Lord Rogers as he stands just along your peripheral. He greets your mother with a cordial bow of his head and shakes your father’s hand. At last, he addresses his betrothed as she wiggles in her skirts and nearly squeaks.

“Lord Rogers,” she drawls, “I wore the rubies.”

“Beautiful,” he praises, “my lady, might I request a stroll upon the promenade?”

“Aye, you may,” your father answers, volunteering himself as escort.

“Sir,” Rogers accepts elegantly and offers his arm to Cora, “and perhaps a few more daughters might care to join us?”

“They will remain with me,” your mother insists, “we would like to see the roses.”

You wait until they’ve departed to dare a peek at them. Lord Rogers struts away confidently with his arm through Cora’s. Your father trails them with his brass-tipped cane. Your ribs rack as if they might collapse in on themselves.

“Come girls, the autumn will wilt away the roses,” your mother declares, “let us make our rounds, perhaps we might have two engagements this season, hm?”

You linger behind the others. You keep your head down as you watch the toes of your boots poke out from beneath your skirts with each step. Your led by the hem of your sisters ahead of you.

As you approach the hoop of rose bushes, there is an unexpected furor. Voices trill and flutter, a booming laugh that rolls like thunder. You raise your eyes and see a blond head above a cluster of hats. You don't recognise the lord amid the clan of amused men.

"How rowdy," your mother remarks in her curmudgeon way.

She ignores the pluck of glee for the thorny tangles. Hannah and Albina give longing looks to the uproar but dutifully accompany your mother to the hedges. The eldest of your quartet pets the paling pink petals and grieves the browning at the edges.

The dullness of that moment feels like a promise. This is how life will always be for someone like you. You will never know excitement, you will only ever be a witness, a scrap of collateral left to squander.

You pretend to admire the greenery. The colours are faded and worn. Just like everything since that night. As you are.

You smell the leaves and the pollen and you're taken back to that moonlit moment. The cool air on your skin, the friction of his figure, his weight trapping you on the stone.

The leaves mesh together in a tapestry of swirling hues. You quickly dab your eyes before your tears can spill over. Those bouts come suddenly and dry up just as soon. You cannot let it take you here.

An emptiness enshrines you and you peer over to find yourself all alone. Your sisters and your mother have left you, forgotten you. Not such an unexpected plight but painful nonetheless. You turn in search of them and nearly collide with another.

You press yourself to the bushes behind you and swallow a gasp, creaking out an apology.

"Apologies, my lord, I did not see you–"

"Lady," the man greets with a courteous dip of his chin, looking down at you. Down! He is even taller than you.

The same lord with the blond hair who had a crowd raucous. You do not know him. He is rather older than any courtly debut.

"You mustn't catch yourself," he reaches around you delicately and untangles a fold of your skirt from the thorny vines, "it is too fine a dress to tarnish."

"Thank you, sir, it seems I am a bit obtuse at the moment," you force a smile.

He is very handsome. He eyes a brighter shade than even Lord Rogers and his hair even more golden. That comparison urges you back to the ground. You are still you and you cannot be so foolish as to let yourself believe contrary ever again.

"Might I–"

"I spy–"

You speak at the same time and both correct yourself. You defer and touch your lips in embarrassment, "apologies, once more, I keep treading on your toes."

"I have tough toes," he japes, "I meant to ask if I might have your name."

"Oh, yes, sir," you give him your name, "I admit I am ignorant of your own identity."

"Ah, yes, I have come from far," he grins, "Lord Thor Odinson, of Asgard."

"Asgard, why that is very far," you comment, "well, sir, it was a delight to meet you. Welcome to our homeland."

"A privilege," he returns, "if I might be so forward, as I am a stranger to this land, I would extend to you an invitation to dinner as I acquaint myself with your country. Would that be too improper?"

"Sir," you flutter your fingers at your side as you stand awkwardly before him, "I would needs ask my father."

"Yes, certainly you would, as you are unwed," he says as if untwining a riddle, "I do hope you will be permitted."

"My lord," you bow your head, "my mother…"

You look past him to your mother's fan as she beckons to you with it. Lord Odinson steps aside and extends his arm in gallant dismissal. You shift to move past him.

"Thank you, my lord."

"Allow me to thank you, lady, for entertaining my tedious conversation," he counters and you quickly flit away.

You near your mother as your other sisters crowd her. She is jibbering behind her fan, "...an ambassador," she says and snaps together the folds, "I hope you did not spoil our welcome."

"Mother?" You look at her in confusion, your cheek hot and tingling still.

"With that Lord, he did invite us to a dinner," she explains, "it would be very important for your father."

You shake your head. You don't argue. Ah, but the invitation was extended to all. Are you so foolish to think otherwise? You must shield yourself in the harsh lesson you've been taught. You are not and can never be special.

💙

The night of Lord Odinson's dinner arrives. You wear a gown of black patterned with deep green vines. Plain attire in contrast to Cora's shining scarlet silk, Alvina's buoyant blue bodice, and Hannah's deep rose sleeves. You add a simple beaded ribbon around your head, and a string of pearls around your neck.

"Dour," your mother remarks as she emerges in a tangerine satin, "ah, Cora, my darling, you look splendid. And to think, now that your engagement is public, you will be a pretty ornament on Lord Rogers' arm."

"Mother," she preens, averting her eyes in feigned modesty.

You clutch your reticule tight and glance over as you hear the approach of hooves. It is Lord Rogers' coach. The vehicle bustles towards the gates, open in expectation of him, and you look away. You can hardly bear the sight of red paint that decorates the doors.

His driver slows and breaks in the dirt. He greets your father as ever, gallant and proper. You put your teeth over your lower lip and peek up, catching the glint of Rogers' sapphire irises. His cheek dimples as his brows twitch. You swiftly rescind your gaze, favouring the dust on your slippers to him. He is as handsome as ever but to you, he is a vile cad. A demon clothed in cravat and vest.

He helps your mother first into the coach, then Cora, Hannah, Alvina, and finally yourself. He extends his gloved hand to you and you stare at his palm with disgust. You put your hand in his and step up into the vehicle. He squeezes before he lets go, a subtle tug on your skirt as you duck inside.

You sit on the bench between Albina and Hannah. You play with the strap of your reticule, focusing on it as you coil it like a snake. You only need to survive the journey to lord's manor. You've survived worse, and all at his hand.

💙

The manor is called The Nine Pillars, a rather strange name for a house, but referenced by the columns set into the stone walls. Each is topped with the facsimile of a different beast's head; a lion, a boar, a bear, a wolf, a falcon, a stallion, a bull, a viper, and an elephant. You lean over Albina to take it in, only to be nudged back to the middle.

You sigh and trail the part from the court. Attendants await your arrival at the broad steps of the manor house, the style much unlike that of the other courtly homes. The peak of the house resembles a warship overturned and the walls are without the typical white wash. It is very antiquated yet refined.

You enter the glowing hall, the glass lamps hung from the walls lit in an illuminating speckle. Voices carry from the drawing room where other guests gather and the bustle of the house staff flutters around the corridors and clamours from the kitchen. Your stole is taken by a groom and you nod in acknowledgement at his diligence. Your stomach swirls nervously.

The drawing room is a cluster of swishing skirts, flapping fans, and waggling coat tails. Your mother and father greet another older couple as your sisters disperse; Cora to show off her betrothed, Albina to whisper to Maria about her novels, and Hannah to gossip about the newest debuts. You find yourself lost before the sea of elegant figures.

You wade towards them, weaving between the bodies, looking around for any sense of welcome. Those who do see you, turn away quickly, as others pretend not to notice your towering form. You will find a place on the wall as you ever do.

"Lady," a deep voice calls but you don't bother to hear it. It cannot possibly be directed at you. It calls again, several times, before pronouncing your name. You spin to face Lord Odinson before you can retreat to your setinel against the wallpaper.

"My Lord," you greet him, "pardon me, there is much going on, I mustn't have heard you calling."

"Ah, but forgive me, it is rather uncouth to be shouting," he stops before you, "my mother always said I did blow in like a storm."

"Oh," you nod politely. You're not used to someone looking you in the eye, not without having to awkwardly contort your posture.

"She would like you, very much, I think."

"Why would you think that, my lord? You hardly know me."

"But I see you, a strong woman, built like a valkyrie. You are resilient and might I so forwardly say, resplendent."

"Sir?" You peer around, looking for an audience, for someone in collusion taking amusement from his false interest. It is always a trick.

"Again, I am the tempest, I cannot be subtle, not with a lady so stunning. Awe-inspiring. If I am the storm, you must be the sky," he remarks boldly.

You face him, a frown.

"Lady, it is a compliment," his face turns sober, "I hope I didn't overstep--"

"It is a joke. Who do you make laugh? For who am I the farce tonight?"

"Joke? Not at all. Never," he glances around the room. He is quiet as he takes in those around him. As he sees their elusive eyes and cold shoulders. "They cannot see what is right in front of them. A goddess--"

"No," you nearly sob, "no. I am not goddess." You bow your head, as you hear that same word from enough, a memory; Athena. "No sir," you put your chin up defiantly, "I will not be fooled by you."

"Fooled, my lady--"

"Excuse me," you shuffle away from him, "I need air..."

"Lady," he calls again but you elude him, delving into the crowd, marching away with head and shoulders down.

As you near the door, you hear a familiar laugh. You look to find Lord Rogers with Cora on his arm, his golden hair shining, her locks perfectly spiraled and set. He tilts his head towards her, "I call her my Athena," he says loudly, as if he knows you are listening, "for I worship her."

His eyes flick up and meet yours. You recoil and spin on your heel. Scalded, you flee into the hall and huddle into an alcove. No one would notice if you stayed out here all night.

💙

You sit among the guests at the table. The women chatter as the men speak in low voices about their business or some writ tabled in session that morning. You do neither as you're isolated in the fervor. As sherry and wine flows generously, you partake only of lemon water and loneliness.

You peer down the table and find yourself drawn to a pair of eyes. Lord Odinson. Where you expect tension or disappointment, you find only an amiable smile. He is almost dreamy as he watches you. You turn in your seat and look at Albina next to you, she's bent so far toward Hannah in her whispering that he likely cannot even see you.

You keep your gaze on the table. You will not encourage him. Lord Rogers taught you caution, he taught you your worth and not to think yourself above it. You feel suddenly sick, as if you could spew onto the table.

There is the clink of glass and someone clears their throat. The buzz around you hushes and all turn to the head of the table. You look over reluctantly. It is Lord Odinson, the host, about to make his toast. He stands, a crystal glass in hand.

"Welcome and thank you all for attending. You've all made me feel rather at home," he raises his glass and the guests mirror him. You lift yours a few seconds too late. He sets down the flute and continues, "and while you've all ingratiated me so kindly, I hope you might tolerate a little piece of my homeland."

He pauses and gestures to someone you can't see. A servant comes forward, holding a wooden box carved with symbols you don't recognise. Runes, perhaps.

"In my faith, there are the Valkyrie. They are the embodiment of female power and prestige and thus they are the keeper of our culture, of our ways. They are fertile and beautiful. So it is that each season, one lady is crowned as Valkyrie. I understand that I've come late but I am honoured to spend the season here, in your society. Thus, tonight has been more than a dinner..."

He stops as the servant opens the box. He takes out a crown of daisies wrought in gold and silver. He presents it to the room with a smile.

Cora leans forward as her eyes round in greed and the other women sit up, admiring the piece of jewelry and peeking at each other. You don't move, you stare at the wall and wait. You wonder who it will be. Maybe Cora or Maybelle and her doe eyes.

There is another lull, swollen with anticipation and intrigue. Lord Odinson gives a soft chuckle before he declares his valkyrie. No one speaks, none says a word. You blink. He speaks again.

You feel a nudge on your elbow as Albina leans towards you and whispers, "it's you."

You glance at her, then along the table. Cora's eyes are narrowed at you and Lord Rogers looks like he's chewing his own tongue. You turn your attention to Lord Odinson, trapped in surprise and disbelief.

"Yes, lady, please, come and claim your crown."

You grasp the arms of the chair and push it out as you rise. You walk stiffly, keenly aware of those watching you. You stride down the long table and near Lord Odinson. He faces you and hovers the crown over your head. You bow and he lowers it on, wiggling it to be sure it's firmly in place.

"It is I who shoulder defer to you, sweet lady," he lowers himself to a knee and bows his head, "our valkyrie."

The silence looms. You refuse to look back. You feel the stare, the disapproval, and disappointment. There's a clap and you flinch. Then another, and slowly the applause build.

Lord Odinson stands again and takes your hand, placing a kiss on your fingers. You meet his eyes, so intense you could melt.

"As I said," he keeps his timbre low, "it was not a joke."

💙

"Can I see it?" Albina asks as you go to set the crown on the narrow table.

"Oh, certainly," you turn to her. You're still burning with excitement. It's only one night, it doesn't mean anything, but it is a good night.

You hand her the crown and she takes it, admiring the craftwork with aw and showing it to Hannah as she nears. She places it on her head and rocks her shoulders.

"I am the valkyrie," she japes.

"No, I am the valkyrie," Hannah snatches the crown and dawns it.

"You are both children," Cora sneers as she shoves her ribbon of rubies into her jewelry box, "please, that lord is only here to pander to our king on his family's behalf. Nothing else."

"You're only jealous," Hannah rebukes.

"Am not," Cora stomps up and swipes the crown of daisies, "what would I need with a meaningless thing like this. Queen of what? The chimera? You don't even know what a valkyrie is."

"Nor do you," Hannah retorts.

"I do," Albina asserts, "they are an army of female warriors who lead the dead--"

"I do not give a fig," Cora flings the crown so it hits the bedframe and bounces off, "we don't believe in them here. That man is a fool."

"Oh, I saw you fawning over him, Cor," Albina goads, "don't lie. Rogers himself looked concerned."

"Fawning? Don't be silly."

You don't say a word as you go to fetch the crown from where it's fallen. You notice that one of the petals is bent out of shape. Oh, no.

"It's fine. She's right, it's just a silly crown."

"You all need to grow up," Cora insists, "as a woman soon to be married, I can see now how juvenile you lot are."

"Not married yet," Hannah snaps, "sooner the better if it means you're off."

"Charming, Hannah, I wonder why you've not had a proposal yet?"

Hannah waves her off with her hand and goes to Albina, "I'm tired. Help me out of my dress."

You turn away and set the crown on top of your own jewelry box. You take your time undoing the ribbon on your head and unclasping your pearls. You peel off your gloves and as you face the bed, you see Cora's hot glare.

"You'll see. That Lord Odinson will leave you behind and next season, you'll be on your way to a convent."

You swallow down her bitter words. Deep down, you don't doubt it. She is likely right but less than clairvoyant. You know better than any what your fate will be.

💙

You watch from the window as Cora walks in the gardens with Lord Rogers. Albina is in bed, moaning and rubbing her pelvis, as Hannah is downstairs with your mother stitching at her frame. The winds of autumn rattle the window frame and you back away, nervous to be caught observing.

You sit on the mattress and lean back against the pillow. Albina curls up on her side and faces you. You offer your hand and she latches on, squeezing. Her cramps have struck and she's already stained several shifts. Her blood has her in agony.

You don't mind keeping her company. Your own was due a week ago. You know because you've not stopped counting the days since... since Lord Rogers' proposal.

"I should hate to miss the promenade..." she mourns.

"You shouldn't miss very much," you assure her.

"Yes, but it will be cold soon. Too cold and it will snow and I will hate to go," she utters, "will you go?"

"Perhaps," you answer.

"And walk with Lord Odinson again?"

"If he wishes."

"I am certain he does. He is very friendly. Last night, when he told us of his families stronghold. About the mountains and the crossing rivers..."

"He has many stories," you agree, "and he tells them well."

"Oh, he does. He tells them for you."

"Pardon?" You nearly laugh.

"Sister, don't act clueless. He gave you his crown--"

"It was only a game."

"I do not think he plays."

"Why..."

"He always finds us on the promenade, doesn't he?"

"He is polite."

"Oh, you are stubborn."

You puff but don't argue further. She's wrong but she can't realise she is. She doesn't know what's happened, how you know for certain that he has no true intentions. That he cannot be any different than Lord Rogers.

💙

The hedges along the promenade are thinning. The roses have wilted away and the greenery curls and recedes. You wear a pair of lambskin gloves and an unlined cloak. It isn’t cold enough yet for fur.

As he does most days, Lord Rogers approaches to greet your family. Your mother and father bow to him briefly and bid their best before strolling off to meet with their peers. The betrothed couple will lead the way, as you walk behind with Hannah. Albina remains abed at home, her presence sorely missed as Hannah yawns and makes faces at the duke and his engaged.

You resist the urge to look around, to search for the man who crowned you valkyrie, the same who appeared at your side nearly every day. You restrained yourself from depending on his presence, from longing for it. He is a fleeting acquaintance, destined to return to Asgard one day. You shouldn't think so much of him.

“I wish we could have a summer wedding,” Lord Rogers declares, his voice raised loud enough for you to hear.

“But, my lord, that is so far away,” Cora protests, “so long as we wed before the snows, I will be content.”

“You, content. I am not mistaken, I know the sort of wife I’ve chosen,” he chides, “you only relish in that you might wear velvet.”

“Not at all my lord. I relish that I should marry you,” she preens, her arm hooked in his firmly.

You stare at the linking of their bodies. You remember the way he held you down, the way he cooed and coaxed, how he so softly coerced you. You should fear for your own sister, yet their misconceptions may be mutual.

“My ladies,” Lord Odinson’s voice precedes him and he steps up beside you, “and my lord. You are ashen, does the cold not agree with you?”

Lord Rogers glances over his shoulder, an edge in his jaw, “I handle it finely.”

You don’t mention he was only just longing for the summer. It isn’t any of your concern and you don’t very much care. Or you try not to.

“In Asgard, the winters, ah, they are splendid,” Odinson begins vibrantly, “there are days when the snow builds walls on its own and the next, they blow over to rippling oceans of frost. Endless and powdery.”

“Oh, we do not get so much snow here,” Hannah comments, “I don’t think I would survive such winters.”

You nod, listening intently as you picture the swirling snow and white dunes. It reminds you of a fairytale or a scene from one of Albina’s novels. Otherworldly and fantastical. Something entirely new and wonderful, but terrifying.

“And you, my valkyrie, would you face the blizzards?” Odinson challenges.

You hum thoughtfully. You know he is looking at you but you are too shy, too wary to return his gaze.

“I suppose with the proper cloak and a thick pair of boots, I might make it through, sir.”

“A coach and a horse, and any lady would say the same,” Rogers scoffs back at you, “girls hardly know the truth in matters of spirit. They can be overly presumptuous upon their own abilities.”

Odinson pushes his jacket back, hooking his finger in the pocket of his vest, “women are strong in ways men can never be. They carry lives, they bear the burden of the world, they maintain a grace lost on most men.”

“And the demure to the strength of men, to the wisdom they can never possess,” Rogers snaps back, laughing cruelly, “it is in the vows they take, is it not?”

“Only the strongest man can see the strength of women,” Odinson dismisses calmly, “my own mother keeps a pack of snow wolves. She goes out in the winter storms and reins her own sleigh. All while my father sits warm before his hearth. Her victories are not his losses.”

“Sounds rather quaint, Lord Odinson,” Rogers clucks, “your country strikes me as lacking civility.”

“Uncivil is a boring way of saying lively, and I promise, my home is much and more,” Odinson affirms, “but I think that fate has a way of placing us all where we belong, wouldn’t you agree?”

Rogers is quiet for a moment, his steps heavy as he strides on. He turns his head, his eye flicking between Odinson and yourself. He snorts and turns forward again.

“We must all take as we earn, accept what we do and do not get,” he says tritely, speaking animatedly with his hand in the air, “more often than not, we have only ourselves to thank… or blame.”

As cryptic as his words are, they are plain to you. That night with him was not unearned. Your foolishness bought your destruction. You must now live out your sentence of watching him walk arm in arm with another woman, your sister, everyday. You must accept that what he took can never be reclaimed.

💙

You sit in the garden, wrapped in a shawl as autumn breezes around the table. Your mother has a fur on her shoulders and your sisters chatter their teeth as they sip their tea. You rub your hands together, your gloves doing little against the crisp air. You suspect the days of dining without are close to done.

As you watch a leaf drift down from a branch, the hinges whine, and your father emerges from within. He gives an emphatic shiver as he claps his hands together. He seems rather pleases as he has his shoulders pushed back and his hat on a tilt.

"Daughters, my lovely wife, it is a beautiful day, is it not?"

You wonder at his uncharacteristic glee. Your father is ever practical and serious, on all matters. More so, he confounds as through the mutter of responses, he looks to you. You nod and agree with his sentiment softly.

"My daughter, my eldest, you... have a visitor."

You blink and withhold a grimace. He hates when you make faces. You force a smile and your voice crackles as you muster your voice.

"A visitor, father?"

"He is inside, he cannot have his tea alone," he says as if you should know who he alludes to.

You stand as Cora rolls her eyes, "who could be here for her?"

You notice how Albina and Hannah share a look. You cannot determine whether it is at your expense or Cora's.

"Daughter," your father drawls, "do not be sour that your betrothed eludes you."

"He does not--"

"So be happy for your sister and enjoy your tea."

She huffs and reaches for her cup. You step around her chair and approach your father. He smiles and as you near, he puts his hands on your arms. He is smiling. Genuinely.

"He has my blessing, of course, I will need accompany you to maintain propriety," he speaks quietly, "come."

You dip your chin down and meekly follow him inside. A servant pulls the door closed behind you. Your steps echo down the corridor as your father leads you to the sunroom. As you enter, there is some rustling and a subtle creak.

You peek up to find Lord Odinson standing with a hand on his vest. He bows to you and your father. You stop in the archway.

Your father proceeds, unaffected, and sits in the cushioned chair nearest the fireplace. He slaps his thighs as he splays his legs and grunts.

"Well, then, get on with it," your father grumbles.

Lord Odinson straightens his posture and gulps. He reaches up and toys with his cravat, the starch fabric already askew. He smiles, his cheeks reddening. He sways and looks between your father and yourself.

"I thought it very difficult to put this in ink but now I am here, I find the same is true of words," he says, laughing at his own joke, "so, lady, I trust this isn't very surprising to you. I've made my intentions clear and I've made your father a proposal, which he has graciously approved. Thus I put to you the question..." he twists his cravat, stops himself, then grips his jacket lapel, "would I be a fair husband to you? Er, or rather, would you... would you... honour me as a wife?"

The air stills and the chill that trailed you in dissipates. You blink dumbly and let your mouth fall open. You glance at your father. You understand his happiness now and yet you cannot believe it.

Your stomach churns and you clamp your mouth shut. The silence turns unbearable. You notice how Lord Odinson's cheek spasms and his complexion drains.

"Yes, sir, I... suppose... rather, I would..." you feel as if you're choking, "is it true? A marriage?"

"You wouldn't have to leave your homeland forever. I have some months ahead of me and my holdings here. We could visit--"

"Yes, yes, I will marry you," you murmur.

You hold your breath. Waiting. For one of them to break. For a peel of laughter between them. For it all to be another trick.

"Glory," Odinson exclaims as he proffers his hand, "shall we sit for tea, then, my valkyrie?"

You nod, unable to speak for fear of croaking. It is real. This man is real but you worry, his attention may yet prove false.

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1dmonthlyficroundup · 2 months

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— 1D Monthly Fic Roundup —

Hi, and welcome to the 1D Monthly Fic Roundup for March 2024! Below you’ll find 1D fics that were all published this month. We hope you’ll check out these new fics! If you would like to submit your own fic, please check this post on how to submit or visit our blog @1dmonthlyficroundup. You can find all our other posts here.

Happy reading!

＊ Why Don’t We Start Writing The Story Of Us by red_panda28 / @red-pandaaa [T, 6k, Louis/Harry]

Immediately after the words left his mouth, Louis wanted to face palm himself. Nerves always brought out joking as a deflection technique, it was almost an instinct.

Harry only looked up long enough to reply with a flat, “no,” before turning back to his book.

“Alright,” Louis said, rocking forward on the balls of his feet and shoved his hands in his pockets. “I’ll, uh… leave you to it.”

OR Alpha Louis and Omega Harry get off on the wrong foot, Louis has the worst timing, and Harry believes in second chances. Three times Louis asks Harry on a date and the one time Harry accepts

＊ The Room Thief by @2tiedships2 [NR, 12k, Harry/Louis]

Louis: Can I come over? Need your help.

Niall: Did someone die? I don’t need to help you bury a body do I? Wait, did you behead one of your alpha flatmates? I hope it was the one that smells like cherries. That is such a weird scent for an alpha. It’s disturbing. And I can’t even smell it.

Louis: I’ve just been kicked out. Can I crash on your couch?

Niall: Zayn’s in class. I’m here so get over here NOW.

Louis: Thanks mate. Gonna pack a few things and will head over. Be there in about a half hour.

When Louis comes home and is confronted by his knothead alpha flatmates, he knows it won’t result in anything good, but he didn’t expect to be left homeless, effective immediately. He definitely didn’t expect to fall for the specific knothead who stole his room.

＊ Half Agony, Half Hope by asphodelknox / @iamasphodelknox [E, 33k+, wip, Louis/Harry]

Harry had never believed the rumors of the beast at the manor on the hill. They sounded like something from Twilight or an old Hollywood horror film, a beautiful man who turned into a beast once a month and killed anyone who was unlucky enough to be stuck on the manor’s grounds.

Yeah, right. The manor was probably just creepy and old. Besides, it’s not like he had anything else to do.

Harry's had enough of his shit year. Had enough of his shit ex and the fact that he graduated from university with no idea what to do next or what to do with the grief. Ed dares him to spend a month at the crumbling Tomlinson manor, and Harry goes cause what else do you do when your life's fallen apart?

It's not really haunted anyway... is it?

＊ when the time is right by refusethyname / @refusethyname28 [E, 146k, Harry/Louis]

“Do you live in the cabin by yourself?” Louis then decided to ask.

“I do, well sort of, I have a cat.”

“A cat?” Louis then asked and Harry nodded happily.

“She’s a precious thing, but she always leaves me for this one customer who is staying at one of the cabins. His name is Tomlin-something, I can’t really recall,” Harry said, causing Louis to chuckle this time. The singer shook his head at Harry’s comment and smiled brightly at him. Harry was truly something else and Louis’ heart fluttered.

“He sounds like an absolute arse if he steals your cat,” Louis chuckled and Harry shook his head at that.

“On the contrary, he is extremely thoughtful, didn’t even mind it too much when I spilled my hot tea over him, how is your stomach by the way?” Harry then asked.

“If this is your way of trying to get me to undress again,” Louis joked and Harry’s cheeks grew bright red. The younger man started stammering some incoherent things and quickly averted his gaze, which Louis thought was absolutely adorable.

Or the cabin fic where falling in love underneath the northern lights only leads to heartbreak.

＊ I Found the Earth (Not Leaving Now) by mmaree / @zqua1d [M, 34k, Zayn/Liam]

Liam watches the ball of light as it traces the sky then starts to dip below the tree-line. It’s larger than any shooting star he has ever seen before.

He makes a wish.

Alien Zayn + Human Liam | A love story inspired by the song “If I Got You”

＊ Your hand in my hand, so still and discreet by flamboyo / @riverswater [E, 4k, Louis/Harry]

“It was about how cold he was under me. How still. It was knowing that even if he had died, even if he was already dead, he would still be mine.”

Louis thought he knew each one of his boyfriend’s stories, secrets, and kinks. Turns out Harry was keeping a crucial one hidden away.

＊ Scared That My Worst is the Best That I’ve Got by LetTheMusicMoveYou / @letthemusicmoveyou28 [M, 5k, Harry/Louis]

So while Louis’ proposition is preposterous, it’s also the only compromise his brain seems willing to make at the moment.

Harry slowly raises his head to look at Louis. He’s standing on the other side of the kitchen, elbow resting casually on the edge of the counter next to the sink. His expression is soft and patient, and there’s delicate morning sunlight streaming through the kitchen windows behind him, setting his outlined silhouette aglow. He looks like an angel.

An angel in an old oversized adidas jumper with tattoos on his knuckles, but an angel all the same.

Harry’s voice comes out mumbled and much smaller than he’d like, but it is what it is. As Louis always says.

“Just shampoo?”

(Or five times Louis saves Harry from himself, and one time when Louis is the one that needs the saving).

＊ I’ll tell you something (I hope you’ll understand) by yeah_alright / @uhoh-but-yeah-alright [E, 2k, Louis/Harry]

Louis insists that Harry stay off her phone and in the safety of Louis' room rather than risk moping in her own texting her ex-boyfriend. When Harry agrees on one condition, Louis' safe night in could become something else entirely.

＊ sunshine, baby! by staybeautiful / @harruandlou [E, 106k, Harry/Louis]

Louis was the first one down the row for their group. If he hadn’t been they would have never met.

He was turned around, walking backwards and saying to Liam, “No, I’ll get you to a real footie match next,” when he bumped into someone.

“Oops,” Louis laughed, tripping over his own feet. A hand curled around his upper arm as he nearly fell over the seat in front of him. “Sorry about that, mate.”

He turned around, still teetering in his vans, to apologize again, but the words dried in his throat. Another hand gripped his other elbow, steadying him, but all Louis could see were green eyes and dimples.

“Hi,” the man laughed, a bright, bubbling sound. “Are you okay?”

Or Louis is in his first year of law school, Harry is a junior on the swim team dreaming of the Olympics, and they both agree that they don't have time for anything more than friends with benefits... right?

- Podfics -

＊ Truth or Drink by @kingsofeverything read by @podfic-pals [M, 6k, Louis/Harry]

Truth or Drink | Exes

Harry and Louis broke up years ago, and they're seeing each other again for the first time to play Truth or Drink. On camera.

#28th appreciation #hlcreators #hljournal #hltracks #trackinghome #trackinghappily #tracksintheam #1dficvillage #1dsource

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sidekick-hero · 4 months

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💫 Sandy, she/her, 30s, Europe 💫

writing tag ✍️ My AO3

🌈 Multichapter Fics 🌈

Suitcase of Memories (55k | explicit | co-written with @legitcookie)

Boy meets boy. Boy meets boy again. And again, so they decided to go on a date about it. But as they grow closer, Steve's insecurities threaten to pull them apart before they can even begin. Will fate intervene?

I wore his jacket for the longest time (58k | explicit | co-written with @legitcookie | Sequel to we pass the ghosts that haunt us later)

Steve has made some bad choices in the past, choices that have cost him his marriage, and even worse than that, Eddie. The man he didn't realize he was in love with until it was too late. Now Steve must pick up the pieces of his life and figure out how to become the man he wants to be.

It's a story about love lost and love found, about the importance of friendship and family, and most of all, about second chances and how it's never too late to change.

I’m tired of asking to settle the debt (18k | explicit)

5 times Eddie warms Steve's hands and that one time Steve returns the favor.

Or: What if Steve and Eddie had met before the events of season 4? What if they kept bumping into each other because it was meant to be?

hold me close (I’m shaking apart) (WIP (2/3) | 15k | explicit)

It all came down to one simple truth: Steve Harrington was not at all what Eddie expected him to be, and it was confusing him to no end.

Or: Steve asks Eddie if he wants to experiment. Eddie wants so much more, but he takes what he can get and tries to not let it break his heart.

tangled with what I never said (4.1k | mature | angst with a happy ending)

And they were roomates.

🌈 Series 🌈

Modern AU - Teacher Steve and Musician Eddie (11k in 5 parts | rated T to explicit)

Just some snippets from the life of Teacher Steve Harrington and Wedding Band Singer turned Rockstar Eddie Munson.

Runner Steve Verse (14k in 2 parts | explicit)

Steve starts running to get out of his head. He finds that maybe he's been running towards something (or someone) all along.

🌈 One-Shots 10k+ 🌈

to the rhythm of eternity (18k | explicit)

The last two years Steve and Eddie have been doing the long distance thing when Steve visits Eddie in London for Christmas and falls in love with the city as well.

Emotional Motion Sickness (16.5k | explicit)

Steve's first night at a gay bar turns into something he never expected. He accidentally stumbles into a theme night - Kink Night - and discovers something new about himself.

🌈 One-Shots 5-10k 🌈

Would you fall for me? (8.8k | explicit | Porn with plot)

One-sided enemies to lovers au inspired by that cake scene in red, white and royal blue.

Will you cleanse me with pleasure? (8.4k | explicit | PWP with tentacle love making)

Steve thinks it’s safe to say that he knows everything important about Eddie when they finally decide to move in together.

Everything, it turns out, except that Eddie sneaks out of the house in the middle of the night at least once a week.

he's all that I've got (don’t take that sinner from me) (8k | explicit | open but hinted at happy ending)

Eddie is on the run after still being blamed for the murders in Hawkins, but he can't run away from Steve.

Part 2: take you with me (mature | 2.1k)

The way you touch, the way you taste (7.1k | explicit | PWP)

Gareth, Jeff and Freak hire Steve to take Eddie's virginity on his birthday. Eddie takes Steve's heart in the process. Entry for the sub Eddie week.

You know I'm a show off (I would let you get some) (6.4k | explicit | PWP)

Eddie's neighbor is the hottest man in existence, so when he finds him washing his car in the shortest shorts known to man he can't stay away.

Love from the other side (6.2k | mature)

Steve works in the emergency room, where he has lost several patients with gaping wounds on their necks, the blood drained from their bodies. It's only because of Eddie, who is a vampire himself, that Steve doesn't end up like them, but what will he do when it's Eddie who needs help?

Part 2: sink you teeth

we were meant to be (we live happily in my fantasy) (5.6k | explicit | PWP)

Eddie is a Big-Shot-Rockstar and Steve is the escort he hired to get people off his back. Too bad he fell in love with him.

When I open my eyes to the future I can hear you say my name (5k | explicit | PWP)

Even after almost a decade together you can still discover new kinks.

Will the man become the monster, or the monster become man? (5k | explicit | PWP)

Beauty and the Beast AU with a twist: What if, once a month, the prince turns back into the beast?

🌈 One-Shots 1k-5k 🌈

I’ve got to get you out of my mind (and back into my arms) (4.7k | explicit | PWP)

Every once in a while, Steve and Eddie like to spice up their sex life and go out to play.

Lay all your love on me (4.6k | explicit | porn with feelings)

Steve feels lonely on Valentine's Day '87 and a certain metalhead sets out to change that.

wear me like a locket around your throat (4.5k | explicit | PWP co-written with @yournowheregirl)

It doesn't really matter why, the fact remains that Eddie is making Steve a little bit feral, and the animal part of his brain demanded that he do something about it.

And that's why he bought Eddie a fucking collar, of all things.

tell me it's love, tell me it's real (4k | explicit | PWP co-written with @yournowheregirl)

The infamous piano scene from Pretty Woman (1990).

Carry You (4k | teen)

Written for @steddielovemonth, prompt: Love is letting someone take care of you.

Eddie is living the rockstar life, but it comes with a prize. When he reaches a point where he can't go on like that, will he finally let Steve carry him?

Part 2: Dear Steve (teen | 2.3k)

we tangle endlessly like lovers entwined (3.4k | explicit | Porn with feelings)

It's canon Steve likes to hold hands during sex.

Safe Haven (3.2k | teen)

Eddie finds a hurt wolf in the woods and takes him home. He has no idea that there is more to this particular wolf than it seems.

Part 2: Eat you alive (wc: 1.8k | mature)

Drowning In You (3.2k | teen | co-written with @legitcookie)

Steve and Eddie spend some time swimming at the quarry. At night. In just their underwear. As you do.

on the tip of my tongue, on top of my thighs (2.8k | explicit | PWP)

Eddie may be a little obsessed with Steve's chest. Okay, drop the a little.

He was sweet like honey (2.7k | explicit | PWP)

Steve loves mint chocolate chip ice cream. Eddie loathes it. But Steve has an idea how he can change Eddie's mind.

will you take me home (2.7k | teen)

Robin wants to adopt a cat, so why does Steve end up with one, too?

Rooting for you (2.6k | explicit)

Steve screwed up, no way around it. Fucked up big time.

In his defense, he didn't know that Eddie was in love with him. How could he have known? For all intents and purposes, they were just two horny guys hooking up.

safe & sound (2.5k | teen)

What happens when Steve meets Eddie Munson, who has just failed his senior year for the first time, during one of his nightly drives?

are you still mine? (2.4k | teen)

"He kissed me," Steve blurts out, and to Robin's credit, she doesn't react except for her hand on his to twitch in surprise. She makes a questioning sound in her throat, clearly waiting for more.

So much (for) Stardust (2.3k | teen)

A scene from an upcoming fic Pickup Note with @thefreakandthehair and art by @firefly-party. Steve can't sleep and Eddie takes him stargazing.

the past, the future, through death my arms are open (2.1k | mature)

second part to are you still mine? where Steve remembers another moment from their shared past where Eddie has been there for him even when he didn't ask for it

will you find me in the stars (2.1k | mature)

In every life, in every universe, they will find each other again. What’s a lifetime if you measure it in eternity?

true colors (2.1k | explicit)

Eddie's heart is beating for Steve but it takes Steve a bit to understand what it is saying.

Slaying Dragons (2.1k | gen)

Eddie was six years old when he first met Steve, not that he would remember it until much, much later.

Blinded by you (2.1k | teen)

The one in which Eddie is a hot mess but Paramedic Steve doesn't mind.

Crutch (2k | mature)

Steve loves Eddie, he really, really does. He just can’t say it.

Louder (2k | explicit | PWP)

While laying in bed, the two of them can't help but overhear their upstairs neighbors going at it rather loudly. Eddie turns to Steve after a while, and asks, You wanna fuck louder than them to establish dominance?

(I just) died in your arms (1.9k | teen | co-written with @legitcookie and @yournowheregirl)

"Hey, Steve, hi. You're probably wondering what I'm doing here." Eddie smiles nervously. When Steve just blinks at him, he takes that as a cue to continue.

"Funny story, actually," He laughs. The lack of sleep must be kicking in, which always makes him feel a little drunk and giddy. "There's this really annoying pipe in my room that's slowly driving me crazy, and I really, really, really need to get some sleep, man. I might even start crying if I don't get some soon. So, I was wondering... Could I crash in here?"

Someone New (1.7k | teen)

After Vecna, Eddie thinks he lost something vital, the one thing that made him Eddie. Steve teaches him that that's not true.

Butterfly Effect (1.5k | mature)

Eddie Munson is bad at feelings, but Steve makes him talk about them anyway, at least in metaphors.

Your scent (it clings to every blanket, sheet and pillowcase) (1.5k | mature)

Life after March '86 is very different from life before. For one thing, he never almost died before. Nor did he ever have anyone accuse him of murder, never mind murders, as in plural.

But then again, he didn't have Steve Harrington before either.

Until I found you (1.5k | mature)

Steve reminds Eddie that you can't buy happiness, you find it in each other.

You got a fast car (1.4k | teen)

"If we leave now, we can be in Indiana before midnight," Steve hears himself say, the decision already made, because the alternative is blood and pain and sorrow.

something about us (1.4k | teen)

What starts out as one of the worst nights of his college life turns into something else when Steve meets Eddie while being banned from his dorm room in the middle of the night thanks to some asshole setting off the fire alarm.

when we were made it was no accident (1.2k | teen)

Steve and Eddie just started dating, it's all new, it's all fragile and most of all, it's still a secret. So when they have a soundcheck coming up, they can't both be late because they can't make themselves to leave the bed, can't they? (part of @thefreakandthehair and @firefly-party and mine project pickup note)

we can be heroes (1.2k | gen)

Love makes Steve brave. And Steve loves fast and hard.

Once those two things become a certainty in Eddie's mind, other things fall into place.

only soul I ever saved (1.1k | explicit)

With Steve, Eddie can be soft. Obediant and sweet. With Steve, Eddie can be a good boy.

hate to be lame (1.1k | mature)

Eddie and Steve are spies working for competing agencies. They make it work.

Somehow, I just want you more (1k | teen)

When Chrissy sets Eddie up for a blind date he did not expect to find a ghost from his past waiting for him.

🌈 Drabbles (<1k) 🌈

I want you to want me (921 | teen)

let the impulse to love and the instinct to kill entangle to one (918 | teen)

Connoisseur of Comfort (652 | gen)

Grow back your sharpest teeth, you know my desire (548 | explicit)

Show them (Baby I'm yours) (534 | explicit)

Sugar, I got a taste for you now (480 | explicit)

Okay, so I'm the dragon. Big deal. (442 | gen)

always on the tip of my tongue (387 | teen)

Deflated. Devoured. Defiled. (311 | explicit)

hole-in-the-wall (404 | gen)

love bites (404 | mature)

mine (404 | explicit)

Ahoy Sailor! (404 | mature)

My arms belong around you (509 | mature)

Like real people do (846 | gen)

that ultra-kind of love (you never walk away from) (509 | teen)

Let Go (509 | explicit)

Anything for love (790 | teen)

moonlit bonding (388 | teen)

blow my candle (290 | explicit)

Strangers Passing (380 | teen)

#steddie #steddie fanfiction #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #steddie fanfic #steddie fic #steddie fluff #steddie ficlet #steddie smut #steddie au #eddie x steve #my writing

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dramioneficrecommendations · 1 year

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Best Draco/Hermione Fics Dramione Shippers Read in 2022

A few weeks ago, I asked you what were the best Dramione fics you’d read in 2022. Here’s the long list of your top-notch recs (in alphabetical order):

262 Days by RoseDeVents: Draco becomes captivated by Hermione. Hermione becomes Draco’s captive. It takes them 262 days to snap. Written for HP Call Me Daddy Fest 2022 for the prompt: Inspired by YOU (Netflix series). Angst. Dark. E, 7 Chapters, 19,915 Words

A Bitter Justice by gloivy: When Hermione first heard the news, tears of joy rained from her eyes. It felt so good—so bloody fantastic—to know that the universe was finally on her side. Because Draco Malfoy, notorious blood supremacist, had borne a son with no more magic than a common muggle. And it was justice. G, 1 Chapter, 4,679 Words

A Different Sort of Impossible by TeaInACoffeeMug: Hermione Granger is going to try her seventh year over again. She's going to be Head Girl. She's going to spend time with her friends. She's going to relax and enjoy a perfectly normal school year for the first time. She's going to earn her N.E.W.Ts so she can join the Ministry, and the Ministry is going to be new - reformed - revived. She's going to assist a student who's been rendered permanently blind after an assault during the summer. An assault while in Auror custody. * Professor McGonagall pushed open the door without ceremony and Hermione gaped at the teen slouched in a chair half-facing her. It couldn’t be. “Malfoy?” He jumped, crossed arms unfolding to grip the chair, as if he hadn’t seen her - because, of course, he couldn’t. - Hiatus: returning when my shoulder is healed M, WIP

A Duty of Care by findinghome20: “Your sleeping problem. How long has it been going on?” “I don’t…Malfoy, I don’t have sleeping problem.” “You’re lying.” ---------- It’s been six years since the Battle of Hogwarts. In the midst of a new and brutal war, Hermione Granger cannot recognize the soldier she’s become. Healer Draco Malfoy has enough on his plate without worrying about Granger and her martyr complex. Why, then, can he not banish her from his mind? It’s a duty of care, he tells himself. A duty of care, and nothing more. E, WIP

A Fair Exchange Is No Robbery by calico_writes: Theirs is a marriage of convenience: she needed funding for her nonprofit, and he needed a trophy wife and family. A year into their arrangement, Hermione has discovered parts of herself that fill her with shame. E, 1 Chapter, 1,915 Words

a house, a home by harlowvera: "I believe in opportunity, Miss Granger, and I'd like to give you one. Should you be a good match for my son, you will be well provided for, and you will be allowed to continue on with your studies and pursuit of a university education." He leans forward, gently wiping a residual tear drying on her cheek, before plucking a rogue daffodil from the ground, an odd sight to behold in autumn. "Think about it, Miss Granger. I'll send a carriage in two days time to the Three Broomsticks. If you're interested, please be timely." She doesn't have to think very hard on his offer, and finds herself with her meager belongings packed into two small suitcases waiting on the steps of the tavern two nights later, hope in her heart and freedom on her mind. M, 1 Chapter, 5,642 Words

A Safe, Devoted Darkness by HeyJude19: Hermione did not believe in things like auras, she’d quit Divination after all, but a chill emanated from the space. It warned of a haunted, twisted place. The abandoned house at the end of the lane you don’t dare approach on Hallowe’en. The cellar door you don’t dare open when you’re home alone. The wooded path you don’t dare cut through at night even if it would be the quickest way home.Only darkness awaited her there. In the last aisle of Malfoy Manor’s library. E, 8 Chapters, 38,193 Words

All that is Rare by smithandbarrowman: In the wizarding world, it has long been assumed that men are Alphas and women are Omegas. However, when Hermione Granger discovers that assumptions are rarely factual, her status as one of only a handful of female alphas that has ever existed has men falling at her feet. But there’s only one man she wants, and like the male alphas before her, the hunt is on until he bears her mark. E, 31 Chapters, 119,755 Words

Because of You by Stein048: In the midst of the Battle, Draco Malfoy finds himself torn between wanting to do the right thing and joining his family. What happens when his choice is made for him by none other than Hermione Granger? And where will that decision lead him? **COMPLETE**** This is a reader request. **This is part 1 of a 2 part series, the second being the “what if” had happened instead of this. E, 50 Chapters, 85,778 Words

Because of You- Bathroom AU by Stein048: The highly request “bathroom AU” scene from Because of You….what if Hermione and Draco had never been interrupted that moment in the bathroom? **this is currently a one-shot smut chapter…I may indulge myself in the future to return to it but as for now, this is what you get** Friends and family, move along. E, 1 Chapter, 4,686 Words

Me After You by Stein048: **Complete** The alternate of "Because of You"; What if that night in the bathroom had occurred and they had never been interrupted? (Please read the one-shot AU that shows this incident. *wink* ) Where would Draco and Hermione find themselves after his release from Azkaban? **This will be updated a min once/week ATM until I complete another work.** A thank you to my beta-readers; Slytherclaw_xo & Shreya E, 30 Chapters, 67,696 Words

Between The Lines by dracoslittlepet: She used to mildly tolerate him, he used to loathe her. But what if his intentions had secretly come from a good place? What if the notorious Slytherin golden boy secretly harboured certain feelings for the bookish Gryffindor? What would happen if, Merlin forbid, he actually let slip those feelings he has for her...? 1 Chapter

Break For Me by Ada_P_Rix: "-I told them this wouldn’t work.” He cut in through gritted teeth as he kept his eyes on Hermione, making her pulse quicken and she couldn’t help but clench her thighs together at the rough, husky tone of his voice. He didn’t miss it; his eyes landed on her thighs and they darkened even further. “I can’t help her when all I feel like I want to do is pin her down and fuck her into the mattress.”_______Hermione gets into a little accident at work and is infected with a hybrid potion created to cause certain heightened side effects. Draco offers to stick around to give his work partner a little support ... if he can Occlude long enough to resist her... E, 4 Chapters, 45,039 Words

Bring Him to His Knees by Musyc: Draco is on the case of a murderer, but to investigate, he needs a fake relationship - and a kink club play partner. When Hermione volunteers to take the role, both do their best to maintain the lie without letting each other know the truth: neither of them are acting. E, 31 Chapters, 246,526 Words

Carpathian by niffizzle: The sprawling mountains of the Romanian Dragon Sanctuary offered a perfect chance for renewed self-discovery. Lush landscapes. Majestic beasts. It was intended to be Hermione’s escape. Except, she hadn’t been alone in that plan.Four years had passed since she last saw him, and to her knowledge, no one else in Britain had either. Rumours had sprouted like plants under a Herbivicus Charm after he failed to return for the second half of their final year at Hogwarts. Even Hermione hadn’t been able to resist the question in nearly every student’s mind: Where had Draco Malfoy gone?Apparently, she now had the answer. E, 22 Chapters, 102,177 Words

Contradictions by ambpersand: When Hermione Granger is presented with a problem, she turns to research. Information, hypotheses, and experiments… These are all things she knows and loves, so it should come as no surprise that when she finds herself with a problem in the bedroom, she knows exactly how to find a solution. And it just so happens that the solution is in the arms of a strong and confident stranger, with hands and lips that know just how to drive her body wild. The only problem? They belong to Draco Malfoy, the one person she should never trust. E, 16 Chapters, 173,375 Words

Custom Fit by thebrightcity: Hermione Granger can't stand working with Draco Malfoy, and she gets especially angry when he sends their intern on the most ridiculous errands. When Malfoy sends a note telling the intern to fetch a pair of cufflinks, Hermione takes matters into her own hands. E, 2 Chapters, 6,376 Words

disparate by Stars_in_motion: au where omegas who go neglected by their alpha for a long time often go into breakthrough heats when being around a different, compatible alpha who displays one (1) caretaking trait around them "You– you brought me supper?" Malfoy eyed her warily. "Don't look so stricken. Do you think I haven't noticed you've been starving yourself for days? You were at your desk when I arrived this morning and haven't moved since." He opened the box of fruit and plucked out a single grape with his sinfully long fingers. Still seated in her desk chair, Malfoy loomed over her entirely so she couldn't look anywhere else. Sometimes it was easier to forget how large he really was. "Now eat." E, WIP

Don't Call Me Baby by gloivy: A dinner party at Grimmauld Place tests Draco’s sanity as he comes to terms with his feelings for Hermione. M, 1 Chapter, 7,292 Words

Don't Look Back by Onyx_and_Elm: It’s the smell of it. Chemical. Bitter and sharp as a raw edge on metal. Just a hint of it as she passes him at breakfast — but enough to stop her dead, mid-step. There is Wolfsbane in his tea. E, WIP

Draco Malfoy and the Mortifying Ordeal of Being in Love by isthisselfcare: Hermione straddles the magical and non-magical worlds as a medical researcher and Healer about to make a Big Discovery. Draco is an Auror assigned to protect her from forces unknown – to both of their displeasure. Features hypercompetent, fiery Hermione and lazy, yet dangerous, Draco. Slow burn. E, 36 Chapters, 199,644 Words

Fool's Gold by itsgivingcamp: Ten years into her career at the Ministry of Magic, Hermione Granger is offered the assignment of a lifetime. The catch? She'd have to work with her childhood nemesis, Draco Malfoy... and does he have to be so bloody fit? - A slow-ish burn that hits just about every trope. We're talking co-workers, one bed, fake relationship, and so much more. Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to these characters, etc. everything owned by She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. E, 29 Chapters, 60,402 Words

Haunted, Hollow, Hopeful, Cursed by HoneyOvercast: “Pansy, I’m still not seeing what this has to do with me. You all clearly know more about the curse than I do. So what could I…” “Granger...” Pansy interrupted. “We need you because aside from Astoria, who is worsening with time…” Pansy had to take a breath and steel herself at the words before she could continue. Astoria gave Pansy a brief nod and squeeze of the hand. “You’re the only person who has ever survived it.” E, 56 Chapters, 267,306 Words

Hermione Isn't Here by whinnybaby: She’s naked and she’s not herself. His hands slither back up her skin; he kisses her throat; he gropes her breasts; he mutters direction in her ear; he lays her on his bed; he takes her from behind. His hands gripping her hips and arse are revulsion. His grunts and groans are disgust. She’s just let Draco Malfoy come inside her, and he has no idea who she is. E, 3 Chapters, 22,546 Words

Hide and Seek by catchthedawn: During a game of Hide and Seek, Draco and Hermione hide together and play their own games and even make some confessions... E, 1 Chapter, 4,548 Words

Hot Mess by khakis: His hand drifted up to grip the back of her neck, the other to her hip. “I want it to be true too badly. For you to be mine. It’s madness to say you belong with me, but it's been driving me mad to deny it. I’m going to prove that you do over and over until you never walk away from me like that again. Until you never fucking forget it.” Hermione didn’t bother telling him that short of Obliviation, there was no chance she ever would. She was too eager to find out exactly what he meant. “Please.” (Or: Hermione miscalculates. Draco refuses to let her get away with it.) E, 1 Chapter, 10,549 Words

House Husband by sodamnrad: omg... they were roommates (includes ripped Draco art by catmintandthyme) E, 1 Chapter, 8,900 Words

House Pet by NinaBinaBallerina: After a dark curse, the wizarding world is left barren. Facing extinction, the Purebloods subjugate the muggles, searching for the rare muggleborns—the only witches able to reproduce. Raised in the Nott household as a pampered pet, Hermione is forced to enter the Trials as she comes of age—a competition created for pureblood wizards to claim a breeder. Determined to win her, Draco Malfoy only knew two things: she belonged to him, and he’d destroy anyone who tried to take her. But the cries of the enslaved muggles pierce through Hermione's comfortable life, causing her to reexamine everything she thought she knew about her world and the people in it. She soon discovers that the ancient call of magic and vengeance cannot be denied. Plot inspired by the Prince of Egypt, with themes from the Handmaid's Tale. E, WIP

If These Walls Could Talk by incognitotoro: After she makes a rare impulse decision during a stressful situation, Hermione finds her life taking a sharp and unexpected turn. The Job: Six months on an island in County Galway to excavate/study/secure a ruined medieval castle that was once home to a powerful and dangerous witch. Entirely within her capabilities. The problem was the partner. The Partner: Draco Malfoy; black-hearted villain, sarcasm addict and chronic over-dresser. Hijinks, calamity and eventually romance ensues. E, WIP

In Silence & Submission by gillianeliza: 10 years after the war everything has changed. Enemies turned into friends and lovers. Fear turned into hope. Pain into joy. Everyone has moved on except for Hermione Granger. Nestled within her friend group, now made up of not just Harry and Ginny, but also Theodore Nott, Pansy Parkinson, Blaise Zabini and of course Draco Malfoy, she was content to allow the trauma of her past to haunt her. More than just content - it was what she felt she deserved - until one evening Draco Malfoy decided enough was enough. This is a low stakes, split POV fic that deals heavily with life AFTER the Battle of Hogwarts. You will find the POV of either Hermione or Draco stated in bold italics, in the middle whenever it shifts. Please read all tags as this work deals with BDSM, kink, trauma recovery, & suicidal ideation. E, WIP

In These Silent Days by HeyJude19: Hermione is familiar with fighting: for respect, for attention, for justice. She’s even made a career of it; working on behalf of creatures and beings. But her battle against the Ministry’s marriage law is one she loses. Badly. And now, she has to contend with not only public derision and patriarchal politics, but her growing feelings for her government-mandated spouse. E, WIP

in your mind / out of mine by ambpersand: The first time Hermione Granger thought about Malfoy naked, it had been a fleeting thought. The second time, an accident. But the third... The third time was definitely on purpose. And given the intensity of his responses, it certainly couldn't be helped. E, 4 Chapters, 26,932 Words

Innocent Monsters by itscometothis: Draco Malfoy thought he had reasonable expectations for his mandatory Eighth Year at Hogwarts, where he would be confined to the grounds as part of his probation. Isolation, hatred, and passing his NEWTs were really all he had in mind. What he wasn’t anticipating: 1) Having a small firstie latch onto him like a bloody koala 2) Said firstie adopting an erkling as if they didn’t feed on children. To protect his little nuisance, he’ll have to seek help from uncomfortable places, including the Swottiest Witch of Her Age. Joy of all joys. T, 12 Chapters, 50,035 Words

Instinct and Desire by grace_lou_freebush: Hermione had always relied on her Omega. She'd never felt weaker for her Omega instincts or her personal desires, and often they were one and the same. Draco was tired of being an Alpha. Everyone assumed he loved it. Everyone assumed a lot about him. Hermione is out on a pre-heat shopping trip when her scent blocking potions rub off, enticing miscreant Alphas to attack her. When Draco Malfoy saves her, Hermione trusts her Omega as she decides she wants Draco for their mate. Despite also being drawn to her, Draco isn't sure he can trust his Alpha or her Omega to make rational decisions rather than instinct-led poor choices. Still, he can't help but offer himself to her during her rapidly incoming heat. E, 2 Chapters, 11,058 Words

Instruments of Time by i_know_what_you_wrote_last_summer: A time travelling necklace from his father's study sends Draco's mind flying back to his thirteen-year-old body. Already the cause of so much pain in the original timeline, he refuses to let Buckbeak die because of his past immaturity. Despite this seemingly simple task, he finds himself embroiled in Professor Lupin's past, whilst struggling to keep secrets about the future hidden. Book Two is up! G, 17 Chapters, 71,100 Words

The Sins of His Father by i_know_what_you_wrote_last_summer: As Draco struggles to change Lucius’s ways, he is thrust into fourth year at Hogwarts where an instrument of time can be the difference between Harry Potter competing in the deadly Triwizard Tournament or not. With the help of Hermione – and unlikely friends on the faculty – Draco relives the Triwizard Tournament through a new lens. G, WIP

Let The Dark In by senlinyu: In a world where the rise of Voldemort never occurred, Wizarding society has found new ways to repress and exclude those they consider outsiders. Hermione Granger attends Hogwarts as one of the few Muggle-born students and despite her efforts to make a place for herself, her future seems set in stone, until Sixth Year, when the Triwizard Tournament is announced and everything begins to change. “Bloody hell,” Ron says from beside her. “I think that blond tosser in the front is a Malfoy.” She tears her eyes away to stare at Ron. “A who?” He laughs and points at the blond boy. “Malfoy. I dunno his first name, but he’s definitely got to be a Malfoy. Old pureblood family from here in Britain. Bastards, the lot of them. Always Slytherins here at Hogwarts. Heard his dad sent him to Durmstrang because he didn’t want his son near any Muggle-borns.” M, WIP

Lion in the Snake Pit by keerysmalfoy: “Protego!” Hermione called before another stupefy could be thrown at Theo, and she turned. “Ron!” “Hermione, are you okay?” “Why did you throw a stupefy!” “The Snakes were grabbing at you!” “Actually,” Blaise grunted, rubbing his head as he got up, “we were hugging her.” 1 Chapter, 2,728 Words

Love In A Time Of The Zombie Apocalypse by rizzlewrites: After Voldemort, there was this. The clock is ticking to create a cure to the unimaginable horror that currently grips the world. Hermione finds herself unwillingly allied with the most hated man in Wizarding Britain. (Alternate ending: 'La Vie En Rose', Audiobook by ETL.Echo.Audiobooks). E, 84 Chapters, 355,784 Words

Love in Other Places by mightbewriting: It required a strangely intimate level of trust, assuming Draco wouldn’t willfully mistranslate her, that he accurately interpreted a conversational ebb and flow. It was irritatingly fascinating too, having him focus so acutely on her every word, pause for a beat, and then spin her intentions into a different language. If Hermione allowed herself the moment of indiscretion, she might have described it as a rush. A completely inappropriate rush, but a rush all the same. [In which Hermione discovers an affinity for seeing Draco speak several languages.] E, 4 Chapters, 12,500 Words

Make Me, Malfoy by ambpersand: It started with three simple words. “Make me, Malfoy.” A sharp intake of breath. A straining jaw. A raised eyebrow. A threat, a challenge, a promise. It had been building for months, stewing beneath the surface. It was volatile, dangerous, and completely irresistible. It pulled at Hermione, drawing her in bit by bit, even though she sensed what lay in wait for her. The darkest parts of her couldn’t resist it any longer. E, 2 Chapters, 25,075 Words

Malfoy Shrugged by uselessenglishmajor: February 14th is just another day at the office for Hermione Granger. Shame no one else got the memo. M, 2 Chapters, 11,150 Words

Manacled by senlinyu: Harry Potter is dead. In the aftermath of the war, in order to strengthen the might of the magical world, Voldemort enacts a repopulation effort. Hermione Granger has an Order secret, lost but hidden in her mind, so she is sent as an enslaved surrogate to the High Reeve until her mind can be cracked.Now illustrated by Avendell. E, 77 Chapters, 370,515 Words

Measure Of A Man by inadaze22: To truly know someone is to differentiate between who they once were, who they are now, and who they’re capable of being. Hermione realises the duality of one man as she rectifies what she knows of the past and begins to understand the pieces of who Draco Malfoy is now: a father, a son, and a man. E, 42 Chapters, 590,655 Words

Mon Couteau Aiguise (My Sharp Knife) by gillianeliza: “And you understand, I assume, the implications of wearing a piece of jewelry such as the one you have around your wrist?” Professor Snape asked. Hermione looked down at the bracelet in question, remembering the warm and joyful sensation of it first being clasped around her. The words Draco had spoken – will you have me? Will you accept me? “I do, sir,” she answered in her best impersonation of confidence. “But Miss Granger… I must ask – do you understand the cost?” Her brows pulled together. “The cost, sir?” “The Dark Lord will return, girl... When he returns, Lucius – and I for that matter – must resume our places at his side.” Hermione still said nothing, which she could tell surprised her potions professor greatly, so he continued. “What do you think will happen to Draco when his father once again becomes a follower of the Dark Lord?” The sticky dread clawed its way up her throat, as if choking her. Tears welled in the corners of her eyes as she thought of the implications. “So I ask you again, Miss Granger, do you understand the cost?” This work is a dark, Death Eater Hermione AU that begins during third year. Eventual canon divergence. Please read all tags! E, 99 Chapters, 169,542 Words

Nectere by violetnare: He had a mission and could not fail. A chance encounter with a heartbroken Gryffindor on an autumn evening fractures his resolve. A Sixth Year tale. Nectere: I bind, tie, fasten, connect, interweave, attach; unite; relate. E, 30 Chapters, 156,676 Words

Need you, Granger by Drops_of_CyprusGreen: Smut Smut Smut Draco MasturbatesAfter six months in Azkaban Draco is stuck at a Hogwarts Reconstruction summer program. He's consumed by a certain Golden Girl and we get a view into his explicit masturbation session. E, 1 Chapter, 2,243 Words

New Year's Resolution by sodamnrad: Friendship blooms between Hermione and Draco when he becomes a regular at Full Steam Ahead. T, 1 Chapter, 9,265 Words

One Thousand Ways to Fall in Love by slytherin_prince27: Draco Malfoy has never uttered the words "I love you" to a single woman, but he knows how Hermione Granger takes her coffee and that she can't go a day without devouring a pumpkin scone. E, 20 Chapters, 85,597 Words

Overture by dirtymudblood: When everything is going wrong; he’s there. Lurking in the shadows. Helping her. E, 15 Chapters, 48,690 Words

Potions, Rings & Baby Things by Ceilidhchaos: Hermione Granger-Weasley and Draco Malfoy had worked together for over ten years now, co-running the Being Division of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures for the last 5. The enmity of the first couple years gave way to friendly sparky banter and an enjoyment of each other's company that made them excellent colleagues. In the last couple of years, Draco had even begun to think of her as a friend. In the last few months, he had come to realize that he desperately wanted to snog her senseless and make love to her on top of her desk or on the green couch where he often worked. The primary impediment of course being that she was married to the Weasel. Granger had been amazingly helpful when Tori died the year before last. It had been the catalyst that changed everything. Helping feed Scorpius with a little muggle spoon shaped like an airplane was what had set off Hermione's baby fever. She had said so many times. What will DILF Draco do when a child of her own craving Hermione files for divorce? E, 1 Chapter, 7,649 Words

Presque Toujours Pur by ShayaLonnie: Bellatrix's torture of Hermione uncovers a long-kept secret. The young witch learns her true origins in a story that shows the beginning and end of the Wizarding wars as Hermione learns about her biological father and the blood magic he dabbled in that will control her future. M, 38 Chapters, 174,032 Words

Recompense by quicknotesquim: Since the war, Hermione has hidden away from the world, striving to restore her parent’s health using ever-darker magic. Draco, an ex-con and outcast, spends his nights chasing leads in an attempt to solve a heinous crime. After nearly a decade of dead ends, they meet again, only for their mutual secret to be unearthed — one that changes everything. With any luck, this unlikely pair will put their pasts behind them and discover love is worth the risk. E, WIP

Remain Nameless by HeyJude19: How did it feel? It felt like he was barely holding it together. She, of all people, should shun him. Or yell at him. Curse him. Spit at him. Take out her wand and blast him off the face of the earth. It was crushing guilt and relief and confusion all at once when he looked at Hermione Granger. The monotony of Draco’s daily routine had become both a lifeline and a noose. But this new habit of grabbing coffee with Hermione Granger is quickly becoming a reason to get out of bed and is unfortunately forcing him to re-evaluate his inconsequential existence. Hermione is living her life in fragments, separate pieces scattered about, and she can’t find a way to step back and let the full picture form. Why are morning meetings with Draco Malfoy the only thing that make sense anymore? E, 51 Chapters, 312,286 Words

Revelry by KatsiPerennial: After the end of the War, Hogwarts established a new tradition: weekly vigils to foster unity and honor the fallen. The student body... did not share the same reverence. The teachers called them Remembrance Vigils. The students called them Revels. Swathed in candlelight and surrounded by their drunken classmates, Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy, both haunted by the war and struggling to find connection, find themselves isolated from everyone else... except each other. -- UPDATES FRIDAYS -- E, WIP

Royal Blood by Allthelove_Em: A young Hermione Granger is sorted into Slytherin House alongside the King's nephew, Draco Malfoy. There's Gods, Duels, Mermaids, Excalibur, Dragons, and a stupidly clever Hermione. Set Hogwarts years 1-7 and beyond. E, WIP

Secrets and Masks by Emerald_Slytherin: 9 years after the battle of Hogwarts, the war still rages on and everyone is much changed since their days at Hogwarts. Hermione is the most lethal soldier in The Order, spending her days on rescue missions to free captured Muggleborn slaves and fight on the front line. For years, she's been meeting in secret with a spy within Voldemort's ranks to exchange information. But, when she's captured and made prisoner at Malfoy Manor, of all the dark and evil ways she'd envisioned Malfoy would torture her, she never quite imagined anything this horrific.I just wanted to make it abundantly clear that I was originally inspired to write this fic after I read the masterpiece that is Manacled, so I would like to thank SenLinYu for her amazing work!The memory searching aspect of Manacled is what inspired me, and although I have adapted that, (and also made Draco head Death Eater, because... ya know... we all love it when he's Voldemort's right hand man 😅😉), Secrets and Masks will be a very very different fic all together. E, 75 Chapters, 465,571 Words

Soft As It Began by rubber_soul02: The day after his infamous victory at the Battle of Hogwarts, Harry Potter disappears without a trace. When the rest of the world gives up their search, Hermione Granger, an up-and-coming investigative journalist, is determined to do what they couldn’t: find him. After years of searching, she finally stumbles upon a clue that might just lead her to her best friend. She is determined to journey across Europe to solve the mystery and, naturally, write about it along the way. But when her intolerable co-worker Draco Malfoy is also assigned to the case, she must learn to set aside old grudges and accept their dysfunctional partnership in order to bring Harry home again. A slow-burn enemies to lovers fic with mystery, adventure, and our two favorite idiots in love. E, 25 Chapters, 150,680 Words

Tea & Necromancy by saveourskinship: “I’m dead,” she said. It seemed a simple thing. Her friends laughed. But Draco watched her and only her. She blinked. Her friends carried on but she didn’t. Her lips didn’t twitch in response to the morbid, gallowed joke, her eyes didn’t crinkle in nightmare’d amusement. He realised he’d transitioned from observant to staring and looked away. But it prickled at him.Something wasn’t right with Granger. *Stand-alone and complete* M, 7 Chapters, 40,881 Words

Teach me, Draco by Ramelle_Kammae: Hermione Granger didn't orgasm in four months. Draco Malfoy is determined to save her. Mature short story with explicit language. No further warnings. E, 20 Chapters, 85,489 Words

Ten out of Ten by morriganmercy: "On a scale of one to ten, how comfortable would you say you are with me physically?" she asked. "Zero." Hermione's lips pursed in annoyance because she really should have seen that coming. How charming that the extent of his arseholery could still surprise her. In which Hermione is determined to find a loophole to free her from a forced marriage with Draco Malfoy. But with only two weeks until they are legally required to consummate, it would be irresponsible not to prepare for every contingency. E, 16 Chapters, 61,559 Words

Timeless by alexandra_emerson: Draco breaks a time turner and starts jumping around in time (very similar to the premise of the Time Traveler’s Wife). At first when he sees he’s married to Hermione in the future, he’s horrified and fights against it any way he can. But the love he sees in the future is unlike anything he’d ever imagined for himself. Meanwhile, his future self is coming to the past to charm Hermione. When they both meet up in the same time, things get fun. There are also several side-plots and alternate POVs with Harry, Ron, Ginny, Blaise, Theo, Daphne, Astoria, Lucius, and Narcissa contributing to the story. Romance / Angst / Drama. Post-war, not epilogue compliant, happy ending (that the characters have to work very hard for). M, 50 Chapters, 324,528 Words

The Body Count by sodamnrad: The dark side of hook-up culture.Part I: The Body Count - Chapters 1-2 Part II: Ease - Chapters 3-6 E, 6 Chapters, 33,850 Words

The Creature You Know by In_Dreams: While trying to restore her parents' memories, Hermione becomes cursed by a powerful sorcerer. Chased by her past and bound by fate to a former rival turned ally, she must work with Draco Malfoy to navigate the conflicts forcing them apart, in order to learn if there is a chance for them to be together. Veela!Draco. Post-war EWE. M, 24 Chapters, 85,101 Words

The Dark Ones by floresinfer: Hermione never thought that her life will turn out like this. She's broken inside, hurting and suffering by herself but the anger-no, pure rage that she feels towards her 'friends' keeps her going, fueling her constantly. She also can't explain the sudden changes that keep happening to her and it seems not only to her. She's changed and everyone can see it, feel it.She's darker than ever.Draco changed too. He's quieter, smarter and more observant... also obsessed with Hermione. M, 15 Chapters, 90,423 Words

The Darkwood Wand by ThebeMoon: Draco Malfoy is harsh and cold and hated at Hogwarts. And Draco is fine with this. He’s even casting the Vanishing Cabinet spell again, although for a much less nefarious purpose. This time he's using Harmonia Nectere Passus to link his bed with the bed of a willing witch. But something goes horribly wrong, and instead of the buzzy flirt Draco's been secretly meeting, his bed keeps delivering an extremely unamused Hermione Granger. So begins Draco’s travesty of an Eighth Year on probation, where nothing ever goes to plan and good deeds NEVER pay. His Divination classes are a disaster, his mother owls him daily prophecies of doom, a rabid she-weasel stalks him through the castle, and his mad roommate from Durmstrang plots to avenge the Dark Lord. Each day sparks an internal battle between Draco’s calculating Malfoy nature and his reckless Black side. Every night brings Granger back again, wreaking havoc with his body and mind. Draco is convinced he's headed straight back to Azkaban and he’s almost looking forward to the trip. COMPLETE! (FYI: This story is not part of “The Gloriana Set” universe. This is a whole new castle full of crazy.) M, 69 Chapters, 201,107 Words

The Devil She Knows by bellla_writes: It started with humiliation, and ended in a betrayal. Hermione Granger-Weasley had been unhappy in her marriage to Ron for a very long time, but the final straw was broken the night that her husband chose his best friend over his wife. And so Hermione felt no shame when she took the opportunity to indulge in one of her fantasies–a fantasy she wasn’t willing to lose anytime soon. E, 1 Chapter, 3,835 Words

The Eagle's Nest by HeartOfAspen: Hermione's eighth year at Hogwarts is already going to be difficult in the aftermath of the war, but is further thrown into upheaval when Headmistress McGonagall orders a re-sorting of all students to promote inter-house unity. But when the Sorting Hat sends Hermione to Ravenclaw with Draco - and without Harry or Ron - how will she cope? [Epilogue? What epilogue?] Prevalent alchemy. M, 71 Chapters, 292,798 Words

The Fool, the Emperor, and the Hanged Man by ianthewaiting: Ten years after the fall of the Dark Lord, Hermione Granger leads of life of self-imposed obscurity, that is, until the day Headmistress Minerva McGonagall is murdered and a certain 'hero' is responsible. E, 28 Chapters, 226,700 Words

The Right Thing To Do by LovesBitca8: Hermione felt the pounding in her ears again. She would see him for the first time since the Great Hall, gaunt and stricken at the Slytherin table with his mother clutching his arm. She hadn't meant to look for him. Not in the corridors, not beneath the white sheets of the fallen, not on the way to the Chamber of Secrets with Ron, but she was a stupid girl. E, 36 Chapters, 174,911 Words

All the Wrong Things by LovesBitca8: Sequel to "The Right Thing to Do" - Draco's POV. Part 2 of the "Rights and Wrongs" series. E, 24 Chapters, 160,297 Words

The Auction by LovesBitca8: In the wake of the Dark Lord’s triumph over Harry Potter, the defeated must learn their new place. Hermione Granger, former Golden Girl, has been captured and reduced to human chattel. Sold to the highest bidder as the top prize at an auction of Order members and sympathizers, she is thrust into the rabid, waiting hands of the Death Eaters. But despite the horrors of Voldemort’s new world, help—and hope—seem to arise from the most unlikely of places. PART 3 of the RIGHTS AND WRONGS series. E, 41 Chapters, 325,702 Words

The Unbearable Tedium of Romance by smokybaltic: Severus Snape attempts to alleviate the indignity and aggravation of living in a tent with Hermione Granger by throwing his godson into the breach. Sometimes the solution is exponentially worse than the problem. E, 1 Chapter, 4,594 Words

The Wallflower and the Rake by Stein048: Harry Potter Historical Romance AU: "How does what you want benefit me? You want me to give myself to you, in a way that I never wished to give to a man. You ask for so much." "Oh, this won't be just for me," his lips curled into a smirk. "But I can give you everything you need. What you desire. You are free to do as you wish--as long as you come for me."Gentle Readers; Independence comes at a steep price. What happens when the Duke of Wiltshire, notorious rake Draco Malfoy, makes an offer the would-be spinster, Miss Hermione Granger, cannot afford to refuse? Your Ever Observant- Lady Quibbler Alpha/Beta Readers- LaDeeDaa35 / slytherinphoenix713 / CarrieMaxwell / Pia_Bartolini I plan to post chapters bi-weekly. PS- There is the likelihood this will become a series with the following wizards; Harry, Ron, Theo, and Blaise. This is a regency fic, inspired by the Bridgerton series but is original. I have not read nor intend to read the books at this time. Credit to the use of Lady Quibbler, which is inspired by Lady Whistledown. E, WIP

Things We're All Too Young to Know by eevans: Hermione Granger had been asked—and agreed—to do many absurd things since learning she was a witch, usually involving Harry Potter. This long list included, in no particular order, smuggling baby dragons, being placed unconscious at the bottom of a lake surrounded by merpeople, and traveling back in time to fly an escaped convict to safety on the back of a mythical creature. But returning to a Death Eater-controlled Hogwarts pretending to be Daphne Greengrass may have been the most ridiculous yet. --- Slow burn, wartime Dramione. Complete. E, 30 Chapters, 208,527 Words

To Be Himself by RavieSnake: Christmas is a time for family. But Hermione's family is truly horrible. They never approve of her dates and she's decided to try and beat them at their own game. How? By inviting Draco Malfoy to join their holiday with free reign to 'be himself.' But Hermione quickly realizes she doesn't really know Draco at all... T, 7 Chapters, 14,285 Words

Trust Me by smokyquartz: Hermione Granger, a force to be reckoned with and a dedicated Auror, may have met her match on the other side of a manhunt. The partnering of an Ex-Death Eater on the case could mean a fresh start - or destroy it completely. Russian translation: https://ficbook.net/readfic/10910289 E, 25 Chapters, 135,387 Words

unexpected by ambpersand: Hand drifting down to her abdomen, she knew. When she was younger, she’d known that there was something different about her. About her abilities. Her certainty had been palpable, and was only confirmed when Professor McGonagall had shown up on her doorstep with that fateful letter in hand. And now, just over ten years later, she felt that same sense of certainty again. She was pregnant. And it all because she’d gone and had a one night stand with the worst person in the world… Draco Malfoy. E, 13 Chapters, 66,880 Words

Venus in Chains by SyrenGrey: There was not a cell in Hermione’s body that wasn’t caught in the crosshairs of conflict. Half of her ached to retreat from this mortification that stripped away her agency and devolved her into this small, helpless mess of whimpers and cries. The other half, the persuasive half, yearned to remain perfectly still, perfectly enraptured, as her body succumbed to his whims and betrayed all instinct of maintaining dignity while she dangled, bent over Draco Malfoy’s knee. ✴ After discovering her adulterous fiancé in a compromising and oh-so confusing position, Hermione is determined to understand the appeal that led him towards this dark, demented path of deviant urges. On her quest for answers, she runs into none other than Draco Malfoy who is more than willing to teach Hermione a thing or two about the sensual art of surrender. E, WIP

War of Hearts by DarkoftheMoon: Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy hate each other. That much is obvious to everyone at Nott & Cross. They're both up for the same position and agree that whoever loses, quits. Every day Hermione finds herself playing games with her loathsome co-worker. Her goal? To finally see him smile. His? She has absolutely no idea. He hates her, after all. But what happens when the rules change and their game becomes less about hate and more about something else entirely? E, WIP

Thanks to every person who contributed (I hope I’ve mentioned everyone. If not, let me know!):

@jadezdominion @trinabad01 @wickermayne @bookbaby2021 @ursdahlia @pale-shadow-of-a-woman @adidasglitter ddr326 wallflowerapplejuice @every-fandom-ever @onceuponagayship @silver26writes @monaiargancoconutsoy @irisgoldglitter @faeryella atattooedleo

Thank you for commenting on the post (I’m always afraid no one will leave any recs, and I’ll end up looking like a fool lol) and for providing the links to your fav fics! It only took me more than 3.5 h to compile the list and probably would’ve taken twice as long if I’d had to google every title on my own. You’re all incredible!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ❤️❤️💚💚❤️❤️💚💚

If I accidentally skipped anything or you spot any mistakes, let me know in the comments. :)

Happy New Year!!! May it be better than the previous one and full of friendship, love, health, and peace! And, obviously, full of even more great Dramione fics and fanarts!!!

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sunflowersandsapphires · 4 months

Text

All This World Could Give Me

Of Oak and Ivy, Chapter 4

Series Masterlist Next Chapter

pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!reader

summary: In college, Matt Murdock had two best friends, Foggy Nelson and you. However, life had no intention of letting you graduate with him. When he reconnects with you in adulthood, he is troubled to see the hand God has dealt you and vows to use every tool at his disposal to save you from damnation.

warnings: swearing, possessive/slightly pervy Matt (he’s 18 y’all, cut him some slack), implied sexual activity, non-graphic descriptions of masturbation, religious conversations and catholic imagery

I’m ignoring canon a bit here and pretending Matt and Lantom were already close. Sue me.

a/n: I know it's been too long since I posted for this WIP and this is the last chapter I have finished writing so I'm posting it an hour early. But I'm going to try really hard to update this one more consistently because I know it's a fan favorite. As always, comments and reblogs are much appreciated! They give me fuel to write.

w/c: 3.7k (Next chapter is much longer, I promise)

Matt had known you for 11 weeks. Less than 80 days in his life and his heart had practically carved you an altar, ready to worship a new God. His devotion to you was ardent—and it terrified him.

You deserved more than he could provide, that much was still true, but he couldn’t help the searing pain in his chest when you talked about your new boyfriend. Everett. Just mentioning his name sparked twin blooms of heat in your cheeks and waves of arousal to cloud around you. It was enough to make Matt nauseous.

A few weeks ago, your new beau had been no more than an unknown peer to the three of you, but it had taken him all of three days to coil around you like a serpent–prying you from Matt’s undying grasp. The two of you had met at Oscar’s homecoming house party and had apparently “totally hit it off”. Two days after that, you’d excitedly reconnected at a Civil Procedure study session that he’d spearheaded with your own TA. After an hour of flirty glances and pointed compliments bouncing between the pair of you, he’d offered to take you out for a late dinner. Stupidly, Matt had assumed you’d invite him and Foggy along, like you had when your last suitor had asked you out, but you’d bid a hasty goodbye to your friends before letting Everett escort you to his favorite diner.

In the 2 weeks since then, your friends had barely seen you. Dates with Everett had become so frequent that you’d been skipping or rescheduling your semi-weekly study sessions and miscellaneous hangouts were shorter than ever. Characteristically, Foggy had been much more understanding of the shift in your behavior.

“Cut her some slack, Murdock. This is her first adult relationship. She’s excited!” The blond reasoned, nudging Matt’s slumped shoulder with a knowing smirk.

“I don’t know, Fog. Something’s…off about him.”

Snorting, Foggy rolled his eyes. “The only thing ‘off’ about it is that our little jitterbug is dating him instead of you.” His accusation was only a murmur, but the sentiment still hit Matt like a truck.

Your involvement with someone should’ve been a blessing. An opportunity for him to get over his unrequited feelings and move on with his life without jeopardizing one of the two friendships he’d ever had. Still, he couldn’t shake the unease he felt around the guy. They’d only interacted once, when you’d introduced them during the study session, but one short conversation was all Matt’s conscience needed to condemn the man.

Though he was well aware that you preferred to show your love through kind words and soft touches, the sound of your pulse skipping when you'd entangled your hand with Everett’s continued to haunt him. Your intentions were as sweet as ever, but he couldn’t help but worry about your counterpart. His senses were bombarded with pheromones whenever he was around you, and the majority of them were not yours. It was like the guy knew exactly how to get under Matt’s skin and had taken to coating you in his cologne before allowing you out of his sight.

If it was possible, his mind was more occupied with thoughts of you than ever. Being in the same room with you was torturous, every molecule in his body buzzing with indignation at the thought that someone else had claimed you. Every mention of your relationship had him biting his tongue until it bled.

Amazingly, he’d been able to restrain his frustration at the beginning of your relationship, preventing himself from snapping at you. However, given that he was only human, his willpower could only withstand so much. The last straw was the fresh bruising on your neck that had appeared the morning after a “study date” with Everett. It couldn’t have taken much effort to disguise, but Matt could still feel the heat pooling in three mouth-shaped marks along your satiny skin.

As you sat beside him at the bookstore counter, you absentmindedly ran a finger over the neckline of your shirt, your heart fluttering as a nail scraped over the highest of the imprints. If Matt hadn’t been so in tune with you and your body, he wouldn’t have thought twice about the tiny sigh that escaped your lips–but he knew you like the back of his own hand, and the sound nearly broke him.

Noticing the way he stiffened, your brow furrowed. “You ok?” You asked kindly, shifting nearer to him.

Normally, he savored the warmth of your proximity, but today the combination of your closeness and the metallic taste of blood emanating from your various hickeys ignited a fury within him.

“Fine.” He muttered, turning the page of his book.

“Ok, let me rephrase. Did you want to talk about whatever is obviously bothering you?” You reached out to run a hand along his arm, wafting a cloud of spicy cologne towards him.

Jerking away from your touch, and nearly careening out of his seat in the process, Matt shook his head. “No. I’m good, thanks.”

Your breathing stuttered, but you shook it off quickly. “Alright, let me know if you change your mind.” Matt desperately tried to ignore the twist in his gut at the hurt that flooded your tone, to no avail.

The two of you stewed in the silence, pretending to study until the bell chimed—signaling a new presence. Matt had been so tangled up in his own guilt and regret that he hadn't noticed the familiar man approaching the store. Surely, God was laughing at his misfortune about now—his bad luck had to be cosmic.

“Evs!” You squealed, rushing out from behind the counter to hug him. After exchanging a nauseatingly lengthy kiss, you wrapped an arm around his waist and gestured to the other boy, still sitting by the register. “You remember Matt, right?”

“Uh yah. How's it goin', man?” Everett gave a rigid nod in Matt's direction, not diverting an ounce of his attention from where it rested on you.

Plastering on his phoniest smile, Matt lifted his hand in a wave. “Not too bad. You?“

”Oh you know, same old.“ The older student brushed off Matt's polite question in favor of pulling you more tightly against him. With a giggle, you let him kiss you again, standing on your tiptoes to reach him.

”What are you doing here?“ You chuckled, tilting your head to the side as his lips traveled over the bruises he'd left the night before. Matt's stomach rolled at the resulting haze of arousal around you.

”Came to see you. Missed you so much, baby.“ Everett murmured between pecks.

“I missed you too. But I'm working for another two hours.” You pushed his chest, breaking the seal of his lips along your skin.

“That's ok, I'm a very patient man.” Your paramour purred, stepping away to let you take your seat again.

Giggling, you leaned forward on the counter. Everett, as classy as ever, didn't hide the way his eyes drifted straight to your cleavage. Didn't he know that you were more than an object for his use and pleasure?

“Want to sit with us? We're reading for Torts. I can get you a chair...“ You trailed off, craning your neck to find a spare stool for him.

Clearing his throat, Matt stood. ”He can have mine. I forgot, I have plans tonight.“

You pursed your lips, studying your friend as he packed up his things. Unperturbed, Everett quickly slid in beside you. ”Thanks, bro.”

“No problem, bro.” Matt mimicked, shouldering his bag and tipping his head towards you. “See you tomorrow.”

“Um, ok. Have a good night, Matty.” You offered, relaxing slightly when he smiled back at you.

“You too, bug.” As he escaped the harrowing atmosphere, he heard Everett's seemingly innocent question.

“Bug?” The pure envy dripping from the word was enough to break Matt's face into a proud smirk.

Seemingly unaware of the budding rivalry, you laughed. 'It's a long story.“

Swiping his cane along the ground forcefully, Matt gulped in the chilly autumn air in an attempt to soothe his pounding heart. The scent of your and Everett’s combined arousal lingered on his coat, in his nose, across his tongue. Every inhale fueled his rage, and he needed to let it out.

Thankfully, there was a place that could offer him solace despite the late hour.

Plastic tapping along asphalt, he masterfully wove through the crowds and down the streets until reaching the musty building he'd been searching for. The door was ajar, propped open with a mop bucket. Steel hinges creaked as he pried open the door, stepping around the cleaning supplies and into the familiar space.

Taking careful steps across the damp concrete, he let his eyes fall closed as the sounds of swinging chains and the ever-present scent of sweat brought him back to his childhood. Blurry images of men with comically red gloves and worn vinyl punching bags flashed through his mind, interspersed with a fading picture of his late father. Swallowing roughly, he continued his march into the empty space, running a hand over the eroded ropes in the center of the room.

”Sorry kid, we're closed,“ A gruff voice broke through the silence.

Shuffling away from the boxing ring, Matt raised a hand in apology. “Sorry, uh, it's been a while since I—“

“You're Battlin' Jack's boy, ain't ya?” The older man cut him off, stepping towards Matt and giving him a once over.

Matt's jaw trembled with emotion, but he nodded slowly. “Uh, yes sir, I am.”

“Been a long time since I've seen ya 'round, kid. Life been good to ya?“ The janitor asked, swiping the mop head across the floor and diverting his gaze from Matt.

”It's been alright. The gym doing ok?“ Shifting from foot to foot, Matt suddenly felt exposed. It had been foolish to assume this place would welcome him back in the middle of the night.

”Not too bad, had to cut our hours though. Ya know how it is.“

Matt nodded politely. ”I understand. I'm sorry to intrude,“ Grasping his cane, he started for the door but the older man stopped him.

”Wait, wait. I ain't gonna kick ya out, kid. You're practically family, come here whenever ya'd like.“

”Are you sure? I don't want to impose.“

”Course I'm sure. I've gotta head home—just lock up for me, will ya?”

Heavy steps shuffled closer to Matt, an outstretched hand offering a worn key. Accepting the jagged brass object, a bloom of warmth filled Matt's chest. “Oh I...I mean—”

The man laughed heartily. ”It ain't gonna bite ya. Just don't leave the lights on too long and we're golden.“

”I'm sure that won't be a problem.“ Matt snorted.

Chuckling deeply, the other man clapped him on the shoulder. ”Fair enough. Use the key whenever you'd like, kid. Don't be a stranger.“

”Thank you, um...“

”Ron, Ron Clark. Nice to see ya again.“

”Thank you, Ron. Have a good night.“

”You too.“ Another squeeze of Matt's shoulder and the other man headed out.

Standing still for a moment, Matt turned the key over in his palm, savoring the swell of pride and gratitude before slipping the chunk of metal into his pocket and stripping out of his coat.

It hadn't been too long since he'd trained, but he was definitely rusty. His muscles practically shrieked beneath his skin as he ran through some exercises Stick used to drill him with, stationed at a spare punching bag. The punches he threw were wobbly and his stance was crooked, but the repetitive motion still began to drain the tension from his shoulders.

Adjusting his position, the corners of his mouth twitched upwards as he fell back into a familiar rhythm. The solid weight of the sand against his knuckles chipped away at the darkness that had been swirling around him for days. Each hit was deliberate and, telling himself it was just to work on his accuracy, he started envisioning Everett's face being pummeled by his fists. Though he'd never seen it, Matt was more than happy bombarding the vague idea of your boyfriend with precise hits.

Everett. Evs. The boy who swept you off your feet before Matt could even work up the nerve to tell you how he felt. A man who simultaneously paid Matt no mind and was far too invested in the blind man's connection to you. Were his feelings for you so obvious that your boyfriend felt the need to drive a wedge between the pair of you?

You never seemed to mind Matt's flirting and general touchiness, though he wasn't sure if you were aware that you drew that side of him out more often than anyone else. Everett seemed to know, given the way he had so easily marked your delicate skin.

Growling, Matt drove his hands into the swinging cylinder with more force. Was Everett the only guy allowed to hangout with you? To hug you? To rest your head against his shoulder? He could mark you up all he wanted, it wouldn't stop Matt from holding your hand or kissing your cheek or thinking about kissing every goddamn inch of you as your heart pounded.

Anger churned in his gut at the thought of the cocky 3rd year claiming every inch of you, drawing sounds out of you that Matt could only imagine.

His cock twitched as he fantasized. What would it be like to claim you as his, have you wrapped around him—underneath him. Would you sound like any of the other girls he'd been with? There was no doubt you'd sound sweeter. Mewling at his touches, screaming his name when he inevitably made you climax.

Panting breathlessly as phantom cries of pleasure ricocheted off the perimeter of his skull, Matt's logic and consideration flew out the window as he ripped off his tight jeans—all thoughts centered on your gorgeous figure and how you already responded to him.

Your past relationships had been so underwhelming that a few hickeys got you riled up? Matt could blow that out of the water. He doubted Everett was a very giving partner, he'd have to make that up to you. Would you want him to please you? To taste you? Matt was sure you tasted divine.

His back arched off of the cool concrete as he came, hand unwittingly wrapped around his cock. As his arousal faded, guilt came crashing in. He couldn't help if thoughts of you slipped in when he touched himself in the comforts of his room but coming in public at the idea of tasting you? He needed help.

Blushing furiously, he ran to the locker rooms to clean himself up.

Shaking her head at the sound of mischievous giggling, Maggie pinched out the last of the candles and began walking toward the double doors. “You know, this is your last chance to leave the chapel before the ghosts arrive.” She spoke calmly, not turning her head toward the two boys crouched behind a pew to her left.

A small, hesitant voice piped up. ”Ghosts?“ The other boy shushed the first, resulting in a small scuffle.

Stifling a smile, she nodded gravely, pausing by an empty pew within eyesight of the troublemakers. “That's right. Darn building is full of them. Nasty little spirits who like to haunt little boys.”

“They what!!?” One of the boys asked, horrified.

“Yep. They like to chase them around, pull out their hair, and force them to eat vegetables.”

Shrieking, the young boys darted out from behind the bench and ran quickly out the door towards the dormitory.

Preening at her accomplishment, she was about to lock up when a new voice startled her.

“Still using the ghost method, huh?”

Whirling around, she brought a hand up to rest on her heart when she recognized the young man before her. Huffing out an irritated breath, she greeted him. “Matthew.”

Nervously, he returned the curt nod she gave him. “Sister.”

“It's nice to see you, though I will be the first to tell you we do not have space to board grown men.”

Chuckling, Matt adjusted his grip on his cane. “Your faith in me is endless, Sister. I still have a place to live, I just came for confession.”

Crossing her arms, Maggie raised a brow. “It's a bit late for confession, Matthew. Come back tomorrow.”

”I know it's late, I just—“

“Matthew,” Father Lantom appeared in the entrance to the chapel, expression and tone much more appreciative of Matt's presence than Maggie seemed. “It's nice to see you, son. How is it out there?”

Smiling proudly, Matt leaned into the hand Lantom placed on his shoulder. “It's wonderful, Father. I'm sorry to have disturbed you, I'll come back tomorrow like Sister Maggie suggested.” The Father's grasp on his arm tightened marginally.

”Nonsense. You are always welcome here. Did you want to sit in the Confessional, or can I offer you a cup of tea first?“

Jaw tightening as his ears rang with Maggie's incredulous scoff, he shook his head. “No, I shouldn't have come, I—“

“Maggie, would you mind lighting a few candles? Matthew, have a seat. I'll be back with something for you to drink. Is chamomile ok?”

Nodding apprehensively, Matt shuffled over to a bench and sat down, turning the foam handle of his cane in his palms as Lantom headed off.

His pulse pounded in the tense silence as Maggie lit three of the lanterns closest to him.

“I'm sorry, Sister, I wasn't thinking—”

“You weren't. Though it seems the Father is still happy to indulge your whims, even if you aren't our responsibility any more.”

Ducking his head in embarrassment, Matt chewed the inside of his cheek, the Sister's scolding stoking his towering flames of guilt. “I can still leave.”

“I think the time for that has passed, Matthew.” Sitting at the opposite end of the pew, she sighed. “Is school everything you hoped for?”

The question was an obvious olive branch, and Matt accepted it gratefully. “It's a very different environment. Full of sin, you'd hate it.”

Maggie chuckled, weaving her fingers together and studying the boy. He looked well enough, apprehensive and ashamed, sure, but fed and rested. He'd clearly been taking decent care of himself, which is more than she could've asked for.

Firm steps echoed in the cavernous building as Lantom returned, holding a carefully balanced tray of three ceramic cups. “Maggie, I assume you'll be joining us?” He gave her a pointed look and she resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

“I'd love to.” She smiled, accepting one of the steaming cups.

Matt smirked at her exaggerated apathy, accepting his own drink. “Thank you both. I'm sorry for my timing.”

“Our doors are always open for you, Matthew. What did you feel the need to confess?”

Blushing at the reminder of his unholy actions, he sighed. “I've been...preoccupied as of late, with...impure thoughts. And I'm not quite sure how to reconcile that.”

Listening to Maggie's heart stutter, it seemed she was equally uncomfortable with her presence in this conversation, yet she made no attempt to leave.

Father Lantom, on the other hand, nodded thoughtfully. “Sinful thoughts are different from sinful actions Matthew. Our minds cannot be controlled to the same degree.”

“I know that, it's just...” Scrubbing a hand over his face, Matt grit his teeth in frustration. “These thoughts, they're mostly about one girl. And they've become more frequent since she began dating someone else.”

“You're close with this girl?” Lantom asked, tilting his head in brief understanding.

Matt nodded mournfully, raking fingers through his hair. “Very. She's one of two friends I have and one of the best people I've ever known. But, lately, I can't even be in the same room as her without getting angry because...because she's not mine.”

Maggie blew out an exasperated breath. “Women are not possessions, Matthew.”

“I know that! I just mean,I—” Spluttering, Matt failed to find the words to justify his admission. God, he was just as bad as Everett.

“Take a breath, my child.” Father Lantom instructed. “Have you told this girl how you feel?”

Shaking his head, eyes wide, Matt's words were more forceful than intended. “No, God no!”

“Language.” Maggie scolded.

“Forgive me, Sister. I'm just...terrified that I'll lose her. And I feel like I can no longer control myself, which means I might lose her anyways.” Blinking rapidly to dry the tears forming in his eyes, Matt snapped his jaw shut before his emotions began to crack the steadiness of his voice.

“Quite the predicament you've landed yourself in, poor boy.” Lantom squeezed Matt's forearm reassuringly, gazing upwards in thought. “As uncertain as it can seem, His plan for us is often for our own good, Matthew. Perhaps, your friend's involvement with another is a path for you to settle for the friendship you have, at least for the time being.”

“If that was his plan, then why does it feel like she's slipping away?” His words were quiet, dense with fear and shame.

“Love makes people do stupid things, Matthew,” Maggie remarked. “Does she know that you think she's been distant?”

“No,” Matt admitted.

“Tell her then, you ridiculous boy.” Maggie encouraged, voice softening as she added, “If she chooses to change her behavior, well, it's up to you how to proceed.”

Lantom nodded, “As for your own thoughts, that's a bit tricky. Speaking with her and focusing on a platonic relationship might help, it might not. Remember that God searches the heart and tests the mind, this might simply be a test of your connection to this woman or of your own patience.”

“He is definitely testing my patience.” Matt muttered, drawing laughs out of both Maggie and Lantom. “Thank you both for listening, and for your assistance. I'll get out of your hair now.”

“It was lovely to see you, Matthew. We can discuss the outcome of your conversation the next time you attend Mass.” The pastor stood, allowing Matt to exit the pew.

“Take care, Matthew.” Maggie lifted a hand in goodbye as the two watched the younger boy retreat.

Thank you for reading my lovelies!

Taglist: @eugene-emt-roe@abbyhaslongshorts@mrs-bellingham@abucketofweird@yeonalie@jadeunstablexx@spider-murdock@0ctober-writes@danzer8705

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thewolvesof1998 · 6 months

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Fuck it Friday

tagged by the wonderful @daffi-990 @rainbow-nerdss Go check out their posts (Daffi posted a whole ass fic!!!)

Here's a bit more of my No-Nut-November fic inspired by @blurredbuddie post! (previous snippet):

Waking up hard was not a new sensation to Buck, he’s got a pretty high libido, but it was new to start stroking himself, still half asleep, bet completely forgotten until he almost reached completion only for the realisation to hit him like a cold bucket of water. The bet. He’d almost lost the bet because of some morning wood. Again. Buck rolls over and groans into his pillow, “Fuck,” his dick still hard and leaking onto his sheets. The dream that left him waking hard lingered like the taste of orange juice on his tongue long after the drink was done. It was faint but he could still remember the hands that trailed over his skin, calloused and warm and how safe he’d felt. These dreams were intense, he’d never had so many but it was probably related to his recent breakup and how touched-starved he’s been feeling this week. Which is only heightened by the fact that Buck can’t even touch himself. This was not the first morning this week where he’d almost lost the bet, not even the closest he’d gotten but it was getting old. It was like he was subconsciously dabbling in orgasm denial kink, which he’s found pretty hot with past partners but a little depressing when he’s alone. Since the bet was haunting his sleeping hours, Buck has been jamming packing his awake hours, when he’s not at work he’s hanging out with the Diaz Boys and Madde and Jee or dinner with Bobby and Athena. If he’s not with anyone he’s going for a run or deep cleaning his fridge. He even helped Pepa do some landscaping. If he can fill his week with social commitments and keep his mind constantly busy he can almost forget about the bet.

And because it's Fuck It Friday here's a mood board for another new wip (which I promise is just staying as an idea atm, well a fleshed-out idea...that I might have started planning but that's all!) Here's my pirate AU:

I just finished season two of OFMD and I can't stop thinking about Buck and Eddie as pirates...

tagging: @wikiangela @wildlife4life @eddiebabygirldiaz @disasterbuckdiaz @spotsandsocks @try-set-me-on-fire @jesuisici33 @bekkachaos @buddierights @forthewolves @911-on-abc @hippolotamus @shitouttabuck @911onabc @exhuastedpigeon @eddiediaztho @your-catfish-friend @loserdiaz @ladydorian05 @watchyourbuck @king-buckley @chaoticgremlinwholikescheese @fortheloveofbuddie @steadfastsaturnsrings @mangacat201 @theotherbuckley @hoodie-buck @eowon @nmcggg @pirrusstuff @evanbegins @giddyupbuck @smilingbuckley

#9-1-1 #buddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #thewolvesof1998 writes #buddie fic #wip #fuck it friday

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iamamythologicalcreature · 4 months

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Six Sentence Sunday/Creative Proof of Life

Thanks for the tags, @alexalexinii, @shrekgogurt, and @that-disabled-princess!

This WIP post is basically a proof of life statement. I can't believe it's been over a month since I posted Chapter 1 of the Haunting of Simon Snow. I'm so overdue for chapter 2, BUT... instead I finished writing the rough draft. I've been attempting to outline, because when I rough a draft, I really rough it up. Ahem.

So I have been working on it, even if there is zero evidence on AO3 as of yet.

How about some sentences? I haven't sliced up chapters yet, so not sure if this is from chapter two or three, but here's a snippet of Simon on the phone with Penny expressing some smooshy sentiments:

I curl up on the couch a bit more, maneuvering myself so my wings aren’t crushed. “I went flying last night,” I confess then, in quiet tones. Like someone might hear me. “You— Oh, but… You can’t! What if someone sees you?” I can actually hear her biting her lip. She wants to spell my problems away, and she can’t. “But I can,” I say, smiling a bit more. “There’s no one around for acres. No one will even willingly drive here on account of the house being haunted. It’s empty. And I’m flying at night.” I say flying in the present tense and realize I fully intend to fly again tonight.

Penny huffs. Her specialty. “I don’t like it.” “I do,” I say easily, warming up to explaining, hoping she’ll understand. “It’s so freeing, Pen. Like the weight of the world can’t hold me down, anymore. I feel… It’s like… It’s like I’m closer to the stars. Like I’m close to stirring up the milky way.” I let out a sigh, my eyes closing as I drop my head back, indulging in that recent memory. “I don’t hate it as much, when I’m up there. You know?” There’s a few seconds of silence, and I open my eyes again. “Pen?” “Hate what?” she asks quietly.

(just in case you were worried I wouldn't be including angst...)

Bit more info on my progress (maybe some whinging) and tags and hellos below the cut!

Fun facts about my ineffecient writing process:

I spent more than one or two hours clearing asterisks from my rough draft this morning. (Because discord has trained me to do *this* when I write instead of this.) Because I'm trying to listen to my draft via screen readers, but it keeps sounding like "asterisk-impossible-star-fuck me" (that's my favorite one honestly, it's supposed to read "Impossible. Fuck me.") which is really annoying (more often than amusing). ANYWAY… what this has revealed to me is that I use "Fuck" a lot, as well as "So good." Ahem. Take from that what you will.

BTW, I'm sure there's an easier way to do that than manually. Please don't tell me for at least a few days, or I might lose it. I am but a mortal being, with a tattered heart and patience worn thin. (Or something.)

OKAY. It's been awhile since I did one of these posts. Time really flies. Gonna give this list my best shot, but as always, open to any who want to participate! (Also adding some new names in for the new year so this is sort of my "Gee I hope this is cool with you" super long tag list. If you'd rather not be tagged, just drop me a missive to that effect!)

@leithillustration @prettygoododds @rimeswithpurple @artsyunderstudy @blackberrysummerblog @hushed-chorus @nightimedreamersworld @best--dress @whatevertheweather @ileadacharmedlife @scribble-tier @imagineacoolusername @brilla-brilla-estrellita @alleycat0306 @angelsfalling16 @fatalfangirl @erzbethluna @tender-ministrations @anxious-m3ss @ebbpettier @bubble-gumhead @facewithoutheart @bazzybelle @theimpossibledemon @aristocratic-otter @mooncello @cutestkilla @annabellelux @ic3-que3n @j-nipper-95 @letraspal @messofthejess @onepintobean @palimpsessed @raenestee @supercutedinosaurs @theearlgreymage @thewholelemon @wellbelesbian @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @youarenevertooold @bookish-bogwitch @martsonmars @orange-peony @mostlymaudlin @stardustasincocaine @confused-bi-queer

Lastly, quick note/question. Tumblr seems to be remiss in informing me when I've been tagged in other posts. Is this a common issue?

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ofmermaidstories · 4 months

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okay while i have been rolling around in bed sick i have had plenty of time to think and ponder priorities in regards to my WIPs so i think in order we’re gonna go:

📝 motivating the marquess, my leg in the regency fic [posted in its entirety]

📝 chapter one of still (falling for you), Shouto’s fic and the third and final part of the Big 3 series

📝 the first one-shot in this love (is ours), the Bakugou/Weeds collection that dovetails the Big 3 series.

and then way way way later, in october—

📝 帰省, the halloween/ghost one-shot.

these are my guaranteed projects for this year! i was going to post 帰省 (homecoming), the halloween one-shot whenever i finished it, but to be honest the heat of summer has kind of ruined the mood of writing it for me LMAO. 💀 it’s too sticky to care about being haunted. 😩 i’ve been disappointed with myself for not delivering that in time for last halloween—immensely, actually, because i dearly love all these silly little celebrations we have for ourselves and i wanted to play and also tbh i just wanted to do something different. 🥺 but there’s no point in beating ourselves up!!! it’s boring. 😌 so we will just have to make sure it’s ready for this year. 😌🙏🏽

the sun god’s bride isn’t on the list mostly bc i work on it randomly. 💀 i’m thinking of like, getting at least the next two chapters of it done though before i start posting again. 🧐 or maybe just going flat out on it after the shouto fic is established, and finishing it? 🧐🧐 will revise.

i wanna post motivating first for two reasons: it’ll be completed in its entirety, and then it gets it outta the way for our bigger, more long-distance projects. 🥹 still + this love will be posted roughly around the same time, with still coming first.

everything else—random drabbles here or any spontaneous WIPs—will just have to fill in the gaps! but these ones make up my concrete goals for this year. ✨💪🏽🥹 anything else will be a fun bonus lmaooo. but thank-you, as always, for bearing with me. 🥺 let’s make 2024 a year of stories. 📖✨

#housekeeping 🧺🌷🌿

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wangxianficrecs · 5 months

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藍色的花，紅色的蘭 {Lan se de hua, hongse de lan} by Admiranda, AshayaTReldai

藍色的花，紅色的蘭 {Lan se de hua, hongse de lan}

by Admiranda (@ladypfenix), AshayaTReldai (@ashayatreldai)

M, WIP, 45k, Wangxian

Part of the MXTX Epic Journeys Big Bang

Summary: Before the ill-fated nighthunt that took their lives, Cangse-sanren chose to send a letter imploring and threatening a man who held a life debt to her that if things should go wrong, he would find and take in her child, swearing otherwise that she would haunt him to the end of her days. Lan Qiren was not pleased by the reminder, but for whatever else that anyone has to say, he is an honorable man. If this is what she will accept as a fulfillment of the debt that he owes her, then he will undertake it. A Wei Ying grows up as a part of Gusu Lan AU. Kay's comments: You know, sometimes I just need that good old Wei Wuxian grows up in the Lan Sect story featuring: actually, Lan Qiren isn't as bad as in canon. Admiranda and AshayaTReldai are also an amazing duo of authors and the story is really beautiful. I love the world-building and the general vibes of the story and it's also just really soft. And, Wei Wuxian is a little older than Lan Wangji, which I adore, because that's one of my favourite headcanons. And the story also features beautful art, so it's really delightful all around! Excerpt: Oh yes, he could see Wei Changze in his son; if the eyes weren’t a dead give-away, then the quiet strength the child projected would be. He has clearly been surviving on his own these last however many weeks. The mix of strength and vulnerability was winsome, and Lan Qiren felt a part of his heart he’d long buried and thought dead uncomfortably spark with life. Wei Changze… why her? He could see the child was thirsty, and handed over a water jar, removing the stopper. The boy guzzled a couple of mouthfuls and handed it back, wiping his mouth with a dirty sleeve. “A-Ying, I knew your parents when we were young. I’m a friend of theirs. Your mother asked me to come and find you. I don’t know what happened to them, but if they haven’t returned to you by now, it’s likely that it’s because they have been unable to do so.” The boy’s eyes were fixed on him unblinkingly. Lan Qiren reached into his sleeve, glad for his prescience in thinking to stow half of his breakfast away, and drew out a steamed bun, offering it to the child. A-Ying’s eyes went round with desire and uncertainty. “Go on,” Lan Qiren said gruffly. “I wouldn’t hold it out to you if I didn’t mean you to have it.” Immediately a grubby hand grasped it gently and brought it to his lips. But before he could take a bite he paused, broke the bread in two, and offered the larger bit to Lan Qiren. And that, right there, was Cangse-sanren, generous to a fault, putting others before herself.

pov alternating, canon divergence, canon era, wei wuxian isn't adopted by the jiangs, orphan wei wuxian, loss of parents, friends to lovers, slow burn, childhood friends, childhood friends to lovers, good uncle lan qiren, good sibling lan xichen

~*~

(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for this hard-working author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)

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watchstarscollide · 2 years

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If I Can't Have You | Homelander

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» Summary | She was the most aggravating being he had ever been around, and Homelander has dealt with a lot of irritation in his life. But how could someone be so annoying yet he couldn’t even get her off his mind?

❥ Pairing | Homelander x Reader

★ Word Count | 9.4k

» Warnings | slight degrading, negging, pinches of dacryphilia, possessive, manipulation, jealousy, slight fluff, idk what this is honestly. Homelander is not a "good guy", ya know?, Homelander POV

↳ AN | This has been a WIP for a long time. I started writing this a few months ago right after I watched season 1 so this does not follow any sort of storyline or season. It's just it's own thing.

*This has only glancingly been proofread so apologies for any errors!* Enjoy!

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He watched her day after day since the moment she walked into the hallowed halls of Vought. Her hair pinned in a bun, perfectly neat without a strand out of place. Her pencil skirt always pressed and proper - and never above her knees. She scurried past people with eyes casted down as she hurried room to room with coffees in hand. And when she was asked for anything unplanned she lit up with an excitement and vitality not yet corrupted by the corporate world.

She was new.

She was innocent.

She was annoying.

The very moment Ashley walked in with yet another intern Homelander’s eyes had already rolled halfway into his brain. Just another person to be cycled through the system under the guise of work experience and a hopeful job offer, only to end in a mental breakdown followed by complete disappearance to the industry. The time, the training, the niceties. It was a hassle, it was tiresome. Homelander had better things to do than play nice with the help.

She introduced herself to The Seven - a sickeningly sweet tone dripping from behind her bright smile and full lips. She twiddled her fingers as she spoke, her thumb providing a physical comfort by rubbing the back of her hand raw. She gave the same bullshit spiel that every single one before her gave.

“I’m so excited to work with you.”

“You have always been such an inspiration to me.”

“I am always around, don’t be afraid to ask for anything.”

Homelander snorted. As if he could face the shit he had to on a daily basis but be afraid to ask some girl to pick up his dry cleaning. Her head whipped over to him, her doe eyes widening ever so slightly. She was nervous to begin with, he could hear her pulse from across the room. The possibility of starting with a bad impression was enough for her blood pressure to skyrocket as her complexion flushed.

But Homelander was nothing if he didn’t know how to charm.

“We’re only able to do what we do thanks to folks like you,” He forced out, accompanied with the rehearsed smile he knew dearly. “Welcome aboard.”

She gleamed at that.

She’d lasted longer than the rest. Almost 2 months later and she still entered a room with that exuberant smile as she trailed behind like a shadow. She and Starlight became fast friends it seemed. Made sense. They both were the epitome of irritating naivety. However their friendship meant her presence became more and more frequent around The Seven. Not only to do what she was hired for but occasionally entering the meeting room just to talk. And she could talk forever, droning on and on. Laughing her pitiful little giggle at every single thing.

Homelander could feel as his dull headache began the longer she stood around. Not to mention the nauseating smell of the sickly sweet perfume she wore every day that permeated the room for hours after so much as just walking by the open door. Sometimes he would still be able to smell it around him during the dead of night when he was alone. He couldn’t escape her even in his sleep, her sparkling eyes haunted his dreams. Baring into his soul like a siren. They were more like nightmares truly.

Her eyes flicked over to him as a muffled groan sounded behind his gloved hand as it swept over his statuesque face.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” He snapped, breaking his composure. “This is called a meeting room, I’d like to actually get the meeting over with.”

The girl stuttered for a moment attempting to grasp at any of the words that came to her mind. It wasn’t the first time the man had shown a side other than endearing patriotic hero seen on television but it truly was not something she had fully come to terms with. His shift in tone, the scorn behind his normally gallant eyes seemed out of place.

The girl ducked her head, “Y-yes sir, I’m so sorry. Please let me know if there’s anything I can get for you.”

She didn’t understand why the Supe had developed such a distaste for her, but it became more and more obvious as time went on. At the start he was every bit the man she had truly admired, it was hard to hold back the admittance that he was always her favorite of The Seven. He spoke with clarity and assured authority. He was magnificent to see in action and with a smile and wink he was truly every bit America’s sweetheart.

The facade seemed to slip away somewhere along the line, she couldn’t even be sure of when. It started with a simple cold shoulder - that one she could understand. She was just a lowly intern in the presence of universal marvels. The indifferent snub eventually became direct disdain. He would roll his eyes plainly when she approached him or walked away from her when she attempted to offer any service. And her obvious attempts to stay in his good graces only made him grit his teeth harder.

But she always tried, surely he couldn’t just hate her.

The nail in the coffin came only a few weeks later.

Press and PR was on the list of things Homelander hated the most. When things were too quiet in the city and there wasn’t pests to discard or bombs to defuse to make Vought look good, press was the way to keep in the people talking. Whether that was TED talks, morning radio, or the classic late night talk show- it all kept the news cycle turning.

Homelander could only be so lucky to do any one of those, but the universe seemed set on welcoming him into his own personalized circle of hell. In the effort to be more ‘accessible’ and ‘relatable’, Vought had set up rounds of internet influencers to have their chance at a one on one with America’s greatest hero.

Because nothing could be as meaningful as a Buzzfeed article or a Snapchat story. Or God forbid…a Tik Tok.

And just to put the cherry on top of his day - his favorite intern was his sole wrangler for the whole ordeal. It was already expected by him to hear her accelerated heartbeat every time she popped into a room, but as she stood in the back behind the lights and cameras her hummingbird heartbeat was louder than any micro-celebrity that believed yelling equated to humor. Being her first time flying solo it was truly a test of her competence, no doubt a trial run before she would be considered for a more permanent position.

Great.

She fiddled with the belt that hung off her jeans loud enough that Homelander could hear it as he spoke to the person across from him, his eyes twitching every time the metal prong clinked against the bar. He was glad that she didn’t wear the item of clothing all the time, her nervous habits would send him off the deep end if he had to hear it every day. Not to mention the way her tight jeans clung to her body, accentuating curves that she never let anyone know she possessed.

Casual Friday. She never took part in it before - that day even allowing her hair to hang loose from the expected updo - she seemed to be getting more comfortable with her environment in recent days despite the deep breaths and the fidgets. But why did she have to pick that day of all days to suddenly switch up? Everything about her was disruptive. Homelander could hardly remember the questions being asked as she twirled her hair around her painted finger. Her eyes bore into him as he spoke, nodding along with whatever words spouted out of his mouth. As if it actually meant anything. Hell, he didn’t even know what he was saying aside from the various buzz words that were ingrained into his vocabulary.

She brought a paper coffee cup up to her plush lips as she watched on. The same cup she had for the better half of the morning - lipstick stains building up along the lid. She almost never wore makeup but had conveniently opted for a look that was hard to look away from, highlighting her features in a way that was almost striking. Did she think she was getting on camera herself? Because she certainly seemed to be seeking attention.

It was working and on more than just him. Homelander watched as she smiled against the cup as the interviewer cracked a few humiliating excuses for jokes. How could she find something so embarrassing be that amusing? It was almost degrading. Her eyes roamed over the interviewer speaking, a slight twinkle in them as something he said made her laugh audibly. The man looked over his shoulder at her with a smile as she held her hand over her mouth to stop the laughter.

“I’m so sorry,” She giggled out, “I didn’t mean to-”

“No, no!” The man interrupted her, his sly smile deepening, “I appreciate validation from pretty girls.”

A flush trailed up her neck as the man winked at her. Homelander cringed at the interaction unfolding before him. That’s what got a reaction out of her? The most cliche line ever formulated by a man? The words were fake and contrived, Homelander would know. Pretty girl? Now, he was no man of great manners, but he played one on TV. Even as a pick up line it was poor. The man could’ve tried harder. Beautiful, stunning, devastating woman. Something with more power, more intention.

Not that she was. But still.

“With that, I think that’s all I’ve got.” The interviewer stood up and held his hand out to shake with the Supe. “Thank you for your time and for everything you do for the country.”

Homelander’s jaw ticked in irritation. That’s it? He didn’t even get to have a final word, he was almost positive he didn’t even get to plug the bullshit he was supposed to. All because this kid got distracted by some girl? She didn’t even have to be in the room, she would’ve been just as useful outside the room where she couldn’t bother anyone.

Whatever, the interview was a waste of time to begin with. It was a mystery how this guy was even allowed to do media with how dull he was. No wonder he was kept online, no way he would handle the big leagues.

“The pleasure is all mine,” Homelander responded, flipping a switch to his signature heroic smile. But he made no motion to shake hands, instead stooping down to grab the half empty water bottle at his feet and turning to the attention of the makeup artist on standby to touch him up before the next lowlife walked through the door.

The man laughed awkwardly before dropping his hand and heading for the door without another word to the Supe. Homelander leaned back, shutting his eyes and letting out a deep sigh of agitation leave his body. He still had half the day to get through, hopefully with less eventfulness between. As he breathed back in the girl’s sweet perfume filled his lungs, recharging any anger that had left. It was like every part of her was handcrafted to permeate and irritate him. He needed to calm down if he was going to continue the rest of the day. There was only so much even he could take.

A whimsical giggle rang through the room causing Homelander’s eyes to snap back open in a flash. He sat forward slightly, the soft brush of setting powder following him as he moved to see what could’ve possibly been happening now. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness behind the lights his eyes focused on the sad excuse of a man that should’ve been halfway out of the building by now. Instead he stood leaned against the wall next to the intern, his eyes wandering her up and down as he spoke in whispered tones.

Homelander watched her smile up at the man, her lip caught between her teeth flirtatiously as she handed a phone over to him. Her eyes were lit with a delight he had never seen before, not even when she was standing in front of The Seven on her very first day. The man grabbed the phone from her hand, his fingers brushing against her skin purposefully and Homelander could feel his anger physically bubbling up in him.

What the fuck.

The kid wasted an opportunity to get his 5 seconds of fame with Homelander but had the attemptive gall to get the attention of his intern? And it was working? The girl had that little self-respect that she was excited for some nobody off the street to notice her? Of course, because that’s what she wanted. She got all dressed up and ready that morning in her tight jeans, her low-cut top, her hair tossed to the side because she lived for the attention. Because she couldn’t just do her job quietly and go home like everyone else.

“We’ve got a pretty busy schedule, pal.” Homelander called out, his voice booming through the quiet room causing everyone to flinch at the disruption.

The interviewer looked over to the Supe with fake smile and an even worse apology. He turned his attention to the girl once more with a wink before ducking out of the door quickly. What a disrespectful little rat.

The girl looked over at Homelander, the smile wiped from her face and worry taking its place in the crease between her eyebrows. She knew that tone from the man and she knew he wasn’t happy. They locked eyes for a moment in the uncomfortable silence of the room.

“Everyone out,” Homelander ordered, his stare never left the girl, “I’d like to have a word.”

The production team and makeup artist all shared looks before slowly filing out, leaving the intern alone with the Supe behind closed doors. The girl swallowed audibly though her mouth suddenly grew dry as Homelander lifted himself off his chair and slowly approached her.

“Homelander, I’m so-”

“Ah” He interrupted, an unsettling smile stretching across his face, “I said I wanted to have a word, didn’t I?”

Her brow furrowed deeper and her eyes grew soft, almost teary as she nodded.

“What is your job here?” Homelander clasped his hands behind his back as he paced in front of the girl. She looked at him, unsure what to say - if he truly wanted her to say anything at all. His smile never ceased as he urged her, “Come on, I know you have a voice. I hear it every god damn day.”

His tone and his face was every bit the charming hero that everyone loved, but behind his eyes and words there was something much more menacing.

“I-I’m here to provide support to Vought employees and talent by way of any requests or tasks assigned.”

“And what are you assigned today?”

“I’m here to represent Vought’s PR. To make sure all goes on as designed, smoothly and without anything unexpected.”

“Represent Vought?” Homelander questioned, his head tilted curiously. She searched his eyes, it wasn’t the answer he wanted. “Last I checked you weren’t an employee at Vought, is that right?”

The girl stuttered, “W-well, no…but-”

“I’m the only one that has any tangible meaning to Vought here,” Homelander’s smile dropped and he approached the young intern, his body casting a looming dark shadow over her frame. “So let’s get one thing straight. You’re here representing me.”

“Yes sir, I’m really so sor-”

“Oh cut the bullshit.” She winced backwards at his harsh tone until her back hit the wall but he continued to advance on her. “You think you’re the first person to try and smile their way into a position? You think you’re special? That you actually provide anything?”

Homelander could see the tears welling up at that point, and it somehow looked better on her than the gleam she normally sported. The way it collected in the corner of her make-up covered eyes and lashes, the slight flush to her cheeks and nose as her vulnerability shone through. The girl wasn’t as iron-willed as she thought - truthfully it was the most appealing she’d ever been.

“That little stunt you pulled with that guy, what was that about?”

She shook her head in confusion as her head dropped towards the floor, “I…I don’t know what you mea-”

“You just like feeling wanted, don’t you? By a guy, by a company, it doesn’t matter. You just need to feel some kind of assurance that you can’t give yourself. Because you feel useless otherwise, right?” Homelander asked, his voice dropping into mock sympathy. He brought his finger up to the girl’s face, his gloved knuckle dragging down her cheek and jaw until it settled underneath her chin. He forcefully lifted her head until she faced him once again. Her eyes were red as she held in the urge to openly cry.

“You think he actually has any interest in you?” Homelander shook his head with a patronizing smile as he said her name softly. “You are useless. You’re an embarrassment. And I have a little advice for you...”

The girl tried to move her face out of the Supe’s grip as a tear finally slipped from her eye but his cement-like hold kept her still. His shoulder shook with a laugh, his thumb extending up to wipe away under her eye as he leaned in slowly to her face. Her heartbeat lept as he neared, her eyes shutting forcefully in anticipation, her tongue sweeping over her lips as they parted submissively. Homelander preened with complacency at her assumption and he was almost tempted to fulfill her expectations. But instead he leaned in further until his nose rested against her temple. He breathed in the sugary scent of her perfume and warm vanilla of her shampoo - his hot exhale trailing over her ear and down her neck.

“Stay out of my way. Do that and maybe, just maybe, you’ll get to flash your cute little Vought ID to the barista like a real employee.”

He dropped his hand from her face and in the blink of an eye he was feet away from her and headed back to his seat. She watched him in a state of shock and horror as he sat back down, as if nothing had even happened. Her lungs began to properly regulate her breathing as the room magically returned to its normal size and the claustrophobia subsided.

“Thank God it’s Friday, am I right?” Homelander barked with laughter, the life and charm returning to his eyes and face as he fixed his microphone back in place nonchalantly. “Well, let’s get everyone back in here to get the show on the road!”

She stared at him with hopeless confusion, as if questioning if the past 3 minutes occurred entirely in her own imagination. He looked back up at her but only gave her exactly what made her heart flutter mere moments ago from another - a wink and a smile.

He didn’t see her again for the next week. He waited for her voice to enter through the door before herself - likely right before he conducted a meeting, interrupting and irritating him as usual - but she never showed. Every time he wanted something he looked around the halls, hoping to find the plucky intern to play fetch as she always insisted on doing but she was nowhere to be found. Her perfume even started fading from the rooms he normally felt suffocated in until he found himself wondering what the scent she wore even was.

A part of him was let down that she turned out to be just like the others, always gone the moment it got a little hard. He felt that he could’ve been a lot worse than he had been, he merely offered a bit of life advice. She seemed so enamored by the new company she kept, it was hard to fathom that she’d give it up like that. He almost found himself wanting to casually ask Starlight about her new friend but he stopped himself, what was to gain from it? Probably a woe is me story of his given dose of reality.

It was really too bad she was just as disappointing as he expected.

By the following week he had almost pushed her out of his mind enough to no longer wonder or seek out her presence. No one so much as mentioned her through the days but he truthfully wasn’t sure if anyone even bothered to know or care as he did. But how could they not show curiosity? How could they not notice that her shrill voice was absent?

And then he heard it. The melodic laughter that shot a pain straight to his temples as it echoed down the hallway. Homelander thought for just a moment that he may have been hearing things, even a Supe had their moments. But as the voice continued to float closer to the office he knew exactly whom it emitted from.

He surprised himself with how quickly he shot out of his seat to peer around the door, but as he rounded the corner he was finally able to see the person he had spent the last week pondering over. Dressed back in her prim and proper pencil skirt, her hair held up by a thin band in a tight bun. And hanging from her neck…a Vought employee ID.

Homelander huffed a short laugh, his eyes followed her approaching form as she walked closer and closer. The smile she always wore lit up her face as she spoke animatedly to the woman walking by her side wearing a matching ID. He had never seen the woman before, or if he had she wasn’t important enough to hold a memory of.

The girl hadn’t noticed the Supe standing in the doorway until she turned her attention back forward. It was hard to not see the large man with his arms crossed over his chest, especially as his eyes all but burned both the surface of her skin and within. Figuratively and literally. As her gaze caught his own Homelander caught the slight falter in her step as her smile dropped until it disappeared altogether.

“Well well well,” Homelander smiled and the girl noticeably cringed at the sound of his voice, “Looks like congratulations are in order.”

“Oh my god, you’re Homelander.” The insignificant woman next to them fawned, a twinkle of wonder in her eyes and excitement in her voice. Homelander didn’t even bother to look in her direction, his only focus being on the ex-intern in front of him. Though she hadn’t bothered to meet his stare, opting to keep her head ducked as he crossed in front of their path.

“Is that why you haven’t been around? What floor are you on now?” He asked, grabbing at the plastic ID on the end of the lanyard that hung loosely around her neck. She flinched at his movement impulsively. He read her name across the top of the card and looked over the picture that sat in the middle. Her bright eyes that normally shone innocence seemed to hold something deeper, a sharpness, a superiority that he’d never seen her express before. Homelander almost felt his own lip twitch upward at the notion.

“I’m just grabbing some stuff that I left up here,” The girl said, an edge to her voice as she ripped the ID out of his grasp. “Excuse me.”

She stepped around the man to continue her walk down the hall, her hand firmly gripping the woman accompanying her - pulling her quickly by her forearm.

“You know Homelander?” The unknown woman whispered as she jogged to keep up with the girl’s pace. She only continued her retreat, her only reaction being a quick glance back to the man as held his spot.

He watched, his jaw hung ajar as a million words threatened to spill from the tip of his tongue. She had expected him to follow, to hold her back, to say something. And he had wanted to, oh how he wanted to, but he held it in. At least vocally, mentally he was spewing a million thoughts a second.

How dare she. Suddenly she thought she had any authority to ignore him? What happened to the helpful girl who only wanted to please? Couldn’t even have a pleasant conversation with someone she claimed to respect. Where did this backbone come from? When did she become so defiant?

All this time he spent wondering about her, thinking of her and this was how he was repaid? Embarrassing him in front of others? Ungrateful was just another trait he could add to his ever growing list of grievances.

But why couldn’t he just let it go?

She was moved to marketing on level 15 more than halfway down the building. Homelander had paid a visit to Ashley and was able to get the information he wanted from the very person who assigned her there. He also made sure to wring her out about shuffling people in and out, it caused disruption to the natural ecosystem of the company and his team. She looked at him in total bewilderment, he had never once cared about where an intern went or if he’d ever even see them again. In fact, most of the time he was in a more agreeable mood when they were gone.

He watched her from afar, through floors, through walls. Watching as she shuffled from her desk to the water cooler or to get her own coffee, never once needing to serve others anymore. She was a hard worker, she spent hours at a time working on her own projects and those around her seemed to feed off her upbeat personality. The same personality that was almost like nails on a chalkboard to him. But every once in a while, out of boredom, Homelander would find himself tuning out the sounds around him to hone into that piercing voice or silvery laugh of hers.

But she never ventured to the 99th level and Homelander wouldn’t be caught dead in any civilian department. Besides, why would he care to?

They didn’t come face to face with each other again until months later. Vought’s annual kick-off event was an important one for the internal morale of the company. At the beginning of every fiscal year all employees were invited to the gala to partake in the provided cheap catering, the tone deaf DJ, and silent auction in the form of bulk electronics, bottles of wine, or tickets to a downtown tourist trap. It didn’t matter, the whole event would be a tax write-off anyway.

But the ultimate show of good faith was the chance to rub elbows with The Seven. They would walk around with smiles and handshakes, affirming with grace that they weren’t the real heroes at Vought. Sure, they were out saving lives and doing acts of god-like power but the Vought employees were the ‘real people making a change’. Everyone from the CEO right down to the janitors were all equally important and ‘fighting the real fight’.

Homelander could feel the bile rising in his throat as the words spilled from his mouth time and time again. Being the leader of The Seven came with more annoyances than perks. He had shaken so many hands by the midway point that he was sure the leather of his gloves were worn out at the palm. And through that whole time he didn’t even see the one person he was sure would ring his ears the moment she walked in.

He would never admit it but he took a hard glance around through people in search of her. Her hair probably pulled back though ditching the skirt and blazer. With a black tie event he wondered what she would look like in a formal dress. It was a toss up on whether she would be in something modest or something more form fitting. It was clear from the last time he had seen her out of the corporate uniform that she was certainly hiding underneath it. She had to be there, she was too proud of herself not too. He was almost surprised she didn’t use the event to have her own Cinderella moment as Vought’s newest darling employee.

But as she didn’t turn up and with passing time Homelander continued his rounds between the peons. More photos, arms around the shoulder, and lying through his teeth. Though he was used to the charade, that night it seemed to be particularly grating. His eyes frequently darted from his conversations to the corners of the room, hoping to catch a glimpse of his ex-intern. Or even catching her wafting scent through the crowd of seeping cheap perfume and aftershave.

A quarter of the way through Homelander started becoming irritated at his own agitation, he needed a moment alone to collect himself. He had made his way to the rooftop in an attempt to will himself the sanity to get through the night without letting his plastered smile fade away. Or worse.

The cold night air that swept through the railing of the deck was a great relief. The terrace was secluded and quiet, not many people ever came to the spot as the wind was often too strong or too cold. He was also almost certain an access code was needed through the stairwell door but he never bothered himself with finding out. The mere moments it took for him to reach the top of the building from the ground did more to ease his mind than the lifetime in an elevator would.

And just as always there was a certain beauty to the city from high above, especially after the sun had set and darkness took its place. The twinkling of lights bouncing between each building, acting as the city’s own form of stars in place of those that you would never see otherwise. There weren’t many things that Homelander found peace in but that was certainly one of them.

He basked in the nighttime glow, allowing himself the second of peace and quiet before he would inevitably have to return to the crowded room until the tiring event was over. If only he had the power to speed up time. Homelander closed his eyes, filling his lungs deeply with the chilled night air and zoned his ears to the city streets below. The endless sound of traffic, music, idle chatter, and in the between the murmur of noise, sniffles and soft breaths. Loud. Louder than any noise on the ground level which could only mean that it was much closer than the rest. His focus turned to the shuddered whimpers originating behind him somewhere beyond the entryway.

Normally he would have ignored it, been more ticked off that his area of peace was invaded rather than care for the reason for the pathetic cries, but curiosity got the best of him. He followed the emitting sounds around the roof until the sole proprietor came into view. A vision in a sleek glimmering dress, red faced with wetness trailing down her cheeks propped up against the sheet metal of the rooftop bulkhead. His little intern.

Her hair gathered into a messy updo that sagged onto her shoulder as her quivering form shook it loose. Her makeup smudged around her eyes as she squeezed them shut in an attempt to stop the small cries from escaping her body.

She hadn’t noticed Homelander, that much he knew. If she had there was no doubt she would have reacted noticeably. And if he was honest with himself, he would admit that he wasn’t sure what to do about that. His irritation dwindled to an awkward uncertainty of how to handle the situation that he was completely unprepared for. On one hand he was eager to say something, after all, he had been looking for her the entire night and this was a damn near perfect excuse. But on the other hand he could recognize the vulnerable state she was in and how unequipped he was to handle that. Both for her comfort and especially his own.

He backed away slightly, his apprehension pulling harder in the game of tug of war in his mind. She would likely come back downstairs at some point, the party would still be going on for a while and there was no chance she’d pass up the chance to mingle. She was too driven to let that go. He may have had to extend the time he wanted to waste at the event, but he would if it meant he would find an opportunity to approach her.

With his mind decided, he turned slightly to make his quiet retreat off the far side of the deck, though not without throwing a glance back over his shoulder one last time. His eyes landed back on the girl as she crumpled inwards even further, a sob wracking through her body. Her arms had crossed around her torso, her hands grabbing at her bicep and waist to hug herself tightly for any sense of comfort.

His motion to leave had faltered. What could have possibly happened to make his normally bright and spirited intern so visibly distraught? Even his personal shake down didn’t get this reaction from her.

The back and forth struggle reared in the Supe’s mind once again. He should leave her, let her gather herself back together at her own pace alone like she clearly intended. She had been up on the roof top seeking the same refuge and space that he had, he could choose to respect that. But truthfully, he didn’t want to. He was uncomfortable, he knew that there was little comfort he could give or even wanted to give, but he was also curious. He could almost feel an ounce of anger rising in his veins.

Who had done this to her?

Homelander took a breath and shuffled closer to the girl, his feet dragging audibly against the slab roof. He was never one to drag his feet though in a quick moment of decision it seemed better to warn the girl of his presence rather than calling out. And his plan worked, with a slight jump in her shoulders the girl’s watery gaze whipped up quickly to meet his approach. She recognized him rapidly, his stark blue suit bright against the night sky and the flagged cape around his shoulders whipping in the winds. She turned her head quickly in the opposite direction, a hand moving to cover her mouth and control her breathing though she knew as well as anybody that there was little that could get past Homelander’s senses.

“I came up here to be alone,” She said loudly, her voice wavering with the cry that was still caught in her throat.

“I would say the same but it’s a little hard to find peace and quiet when there’s wailing in the background,” He threw out without a thought. The girl’s head dropped until her chin hit her chest, her shoulder shaking again as new tears fell to her lap. Shit. Homelander shook his head, even when his intentions were halfway positive he couldn’t manage to hold himself back. Just a reminder of why he shouldn’t genuinely try to comfort anyone.

Should he stop? Should he go back downstairs to mind his own business? But his mind would still be on the roof with her, he knew that. He wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about what was happening before him. Then he should apologize…right?

“I-..I’m sorry,” He forced, in his hushed tone it almost sounded genuine. She didn’t bother to look up and certainly not back at him - she didn’t make a move at all. But she didn’t tell him to leave again either and that was enough for him to feel okay with his move towards her. He stood next to her for a moment, glancing down as she continued to curl into herself. There was nothing to be said between them as she cried out whatever was going through her mind, but it eased his mind to be by her through it. And even more as he sat next to her and she didn’t shy away.

The sheet metal against their backs was cold, even Homelander could feel the discomfort through his suit, but a steady warmth radiated off her body that made the cool night a little more bearable. He looked over at her bare arms and exposed back, trailing the goosebumps that spread across her soft skin where the fabric did not reach. It was clear the temperature was far from a worry in her mind, though it was a wonder if it was also a cause for the tremble through her body.

Homelander reached his hands around his neck until his fingertips hit the clasps that held his cape to shoulders and collar. He pulled the long piece of patriotic fabric over his back as it came undone in a heap on his lap.

“Here,” He held out the bunch towards the girl to little reaction. She didn’t look over or even so much as move to see what his offering was. With a sigh he took the liberty to throw the cape over her form, draping it across her shoulders and down her back. She could’ve at least been grateful that he was even trying to be a nice guy.

He waited for a moment for a reaction, a regard of any kind but couldn’t say he was shocked when acknowledgement didn’t come. But as he finally looked back out toward the skyline he caught in the corner of his eye as she moved her hands down to wrap the cape closer around her shivering body. And that was enough for him.

They sat together in a silence, neither of them pushing a conversation or advancement past their physical presence. It was an odd comfort that neither of them would fess to.

The girl’s cries slowed down being replaced by soft sniffles and sighs. The shake in her body ceased until all was still around them. The sounds were replaced by that all too familiar chaos emanating from street level. Until she finally spoke.

“Why are you still here?” She asked. There was a touch of curtness in her tone though true malice was absent.

“Why are you crying?”

“Full offense Homelander, what’s it to you?” She shot back. The vitriol in her voice shot surprise through his system, but before he could say anything back she was already speaking again, “You are probably the last person in this entire building to be asking about how I’m feeling. For months you have done nothing besides ridicule me behind my back, roll your eyes at my help, and I don’t even think I have to remind you of the last time we actually worked together. I’m sorry, but I also don't think I need to explain why I’m less than open to expressing my feelings to you.”

She spouted so fast that it took longer for Homelander to even catch all of her words let alone process them. But there were two things he was able to note as she went off and neither had to do with the actual substance of her words. She wouldn’t meet his eye, she stared off into the brightly lit windows of the office building across from them. Her voice wavered as it all poured from her lips, but her confidence was only as strong as her lack of contact. And though her words contained the weight she held in for such a long time, she still couldn’t help but apologize for even saying them.

That was the girl he knew, the ever people pleaser.

“I get that,” He replied calmly, as if none of what she said had bothered him at all being that he only caught half of it. She finally looked over to him feeling that his eyes never left her. She searched his face for anything more, any indication that this was an elaborate way for him to hold something over her or if there was an inkling of sincerity in the man. He had never been so agreeable, but there was nothing there to tell her of any ulterior motives. Still, how could she trust that?

“Why are you here, Homelander?” She urged, looking away again.

He looked over the city with her as he contemplated his answer. Because he was nosy, was that the right answer? It was half the truth. Because he found it more entertaining than what was going on downstairs? That didn’t exactly feel right either. Why was he there?

“I have nothing better to do,” it was the least he could give her. The least he could make sense of.

She snorted softly, an ounce of a smile ticking up at the corner of her mouth. The statement wasn’t meant to be a joke but her reaction stirred something inside of the man to her side. “There’s an entire party downstairs full of people wanting to be with you.”

“And you think I would rather be in the middle of them?” He spoke honestly, more honest than he’d ever be normally but he could help but have it slip.

She barked a loud laugh, “A chance for people to fawn and admire you? Seems right up your alley honestly.”

He deserved that one, he knew it. “Believe it or not, I’m not really the biggest ‘fan’ of people.”

“Oh trust me, I believe it,” she scoffed with a sarcastic sneer. She’d been on the receiving end of that very attitude. She learned that the hard way yet still had the respect to keep a smile on her face and her chin up. That’s what rubbed Homelander in such a way when it came to her. She wasn’t just like everybody else, she didn’t comply or shy away. Her case was separate from all others.

“It’s different. You’re different,” He admitted, whether that was good or bad was up for debate between the both of them. He caught the subtle way her body stiffened at his words, but before either of them could think too hard on it he spoke again, “But that doesn’t matter, this isn’t about me. Tell me why you’re up here crying. Shouldn’t you be brown-nosing with upper management or something?”

Her shoulders slacked at his tone and words as it returned back to the man she had come to know. Homelander turned his head towards her as his ears caught a sigh of surrender left her, “If I tell you then can we call a truce between us? I’m tired of walking on eggshells.”

He hardly felt a truce was what was needed between them but nonetheless he found himself nodding her along. Another deep sigh left her body as she moved backwards to slump against the wall, her hands gripping his cape tighter to her.

“You were right.”

He waited for her to continue, his eyes roaming over her form as she still refused to look at him. But as he waited and searched for an explanation, he felt his patience waning.

“Is that it?” He asked with a huff, “That’s not news to anyone.”

The girl laughed softly. A real laugh that lit up her face despite the sparkling of tears left pooling at her eyes. Her smile gleamed the same way he recalled in his memories as they replayed through his nights, too bright and unfeigned. Though in place of the normal annoyance he had felt seeing in the past, a warm comfort hugged his chest.

“Sorry, I know that wasn’t meant to be funny,” she shook her head and paused for a moment. Her brow furrowed ever so slightly in the silence. The crease in her forehead accentuated the words that were stirring in her mind. Her hesitation was clear but Homelander kept himself silent until she found exactly what she wanted to say, he was curious.

“You’re kind of an asshole, you know that right?”

The man’s expression wiped from his normally prideful face. Maybe it was the setting, maybe it was her emotions that were already shot, but it seemed her normal respectful and reserved manner had disappeared. Her honesty and lack of care had taken him aback and made him even more interested in what else she had held back, what other thoughts floated in her head, how could he know more? Her hands moved down her form until they rested on her lap, the cape hanging loosely over her bare shoulders. She calmed herself before speaking again, seemingly relaxed further that Homelander hadn’t come back at her with anything to tense the air any further, which was truly the real shock.

“Tripp never actually had any interest in me.”

Homelander thought for a moment, her words hanging between them. Who? The girl looked over to the Supe sitting next to her when no rebuttal came or even a move to respond. For the very first time in her presence, the man looked genuinely confused. Not even an attempt to appear knowing.

“The guy back during your press round. The one before you…you know.”

Oh.

“The shitty interviewer?” Homelander absolutely never even bothered to know his name. Figured it would be something equally as inept as him. He seethed that you were on a first name basis with the little shit.

“We had been seeing each other since then, I should’ve seen the red flags every time he asked if he could come by the office but I just thought it was sweet. Maybe he wanted to see me so much that he couldn’t wait. But with me being new I always told him it wasn’t a good idea.” She sighed and swiped her hand across her cheek, embarrassment creeping through as she continued, “This morning I invited him to come with me tonight and he seemed excited, asked about the chances of me introducing him to the rest of The Seven. I told him it would be hard because I don’t work with any of you anymore.”

She shook her head, the glistening in her eyes returning as a pitiful laugh escaped her body, “Long story short, once he knew that then all bets were off. Told me if I couldn’t get him closer to you all then there was nothing in it for him. That I was useless to him.”

The girl pulled her legs closer to her body as fresh tears slipped down her blushed cheeks. Soft sniffles came from behind her crossed arms as she hid her face between them.

Homelander’s jaw clenched. He knew that guy was nothing but a prick, how could she be so naive to put investment into something like that? There was absolutely nothing that guy could’ve offered her that would’ve been worth anything. She was supposed to be smart.

“You said it best, anyways” she continued quickly, “For once I wanted to feel…wanted, I guess. I’m new to this city, to this job, I feel like I’ve done nothing but mess things up since I’ve been here. Everyone ignored me. A-Train called me stupid the minute I messed up his coffee order and you…you hated me the minute I walked into the room! I came off so badly that Starlight had to give me pep talks in the bathroom. But I still tried and nothing ever got better. Then after the incident with you, Homelander, I was done.”

She was blubbering now, her feelings all resurfacing with each word she choked out through tears, “I was going to quit. You were right, I was useless and it was embarrassing the people I admired so much thought I was annoying . And then when you had me moved, honestly there was a part of me that only took it because I wanted to prove you wrong. But really I was just trying to find that reassurance that I was capable of something. Anything.”

Homelander sat, his mouth slightly agape at the words that poured from her body. She hugged her legs tightly against her chest as sobs filtered into the night. There was a lot more behind that bright smile then met the eye, that was for sure. His words and attitude were meant to disrupt her, every snide remark or glare was truly from the depths of his irked soul. But hearing their effect didn’t bring him the sanctimonious delight that he wanted. The pressure built on the girl until she was inches from breaking, that’s what he wanted, wasn’t it?

“Wait,” Homelander said, “I didn't have you moved.”

“What?”

He shook his head, leaning his elbows onto his knees as he recalled her words, “I never asked for you to be moved. You thought I would help you get a job? After everything I said?”

She wiped the tears from her face, “I thought you just wanted to get rid of me, honestly.”

He huffed a laugh, “If I wanted to get rid of you then you wouldn’t be around anymore. At all.”

That was true, it wouldn’t have even been questioned if he asked that. But despite how much the girl stirred irritation within him, he never thought to get rid of her before her time. If possible it felt this time he may have actually done the opposite of what he really wanted. He may have pushed too far. The days gone by without her around agitated him more than when she was constantly badgering around the conference room. Not knowing where she was, what she was doing, who she was with, what she was thinking. He wanted to know more. He wanted her around more.

He wanted her.

“I guess I should be grateful then.” She pulled the cape off her shoulder, exposing her back to the night chill once again as she folded it against her lap. Homelander’s eyes dragged down her body without a thought, he had forgotten the jeweled gown that hung off her body. It glittered under the moonlight just like the remaining tears that lay unfallen in her eyelashes, complimenting each other.

“But anyway, you asked why I was up here so there you go.”

That’s right. The reason for the tears. Because someone thought that they could break her down and throw her away as if it were nothing. As if there were no consequences because she was just too nice, too wide eyed. Funny thing about repercussions, you never know where they could come from.

“Who cares what that prick thinks anyway?”

“You think the same thing, “ she let out a breathy laugh, “you might be more alike than you realize.”

Well that was obviously not true, Homelander thought. That asshole was just a guy, nothing like him at all. He was different. That’s what he wanted to say, but for once he mulled over his words before he spoke. He craved this interaction with her, just the two of them, her walls down and open. He couldn’t have her shut him off, not again.

“Listen, I've been a dick, I know. You’re capable, you said it yourself. You’ve already proved it.”

She stopped tracing the finely stitched stripes over the cape to look over at him, her expression showing disbelief at what her ears were hearing. “Wow, that was actually sort of nice, Homelander”

Homelander searched her face for a moment, “call me John.”

“What?” “My name is John” He repeated. He pushed and tested the water further, how far could he get before she pulled away from him again? His hand slowly reached to rest over the vibrant red and white of his cape that lay over her thigh. “You don’t need some asshole to tell you that you’re anything. You’ve got friends at Vought, people like you in your office, you've got friends, and some great ideas you’re working on.”

She stared down at his hand touching her over the layers of fabric between them. How would he know all that? He was never around to see how she interacted and certainly none of her ideas or meetings ever got back to him, why would they? Though despite the implications, his words were strangely but heartwarming.

“You know all that?” She asked, looking back up to meet his gaze. He nodded only to stop abruptly when he realized his slip. He had been watching her, his keen superpowers coming in handy it seemed. If she knew that there was no way she would ever speak to him again, he fucked up even when he was trying not to. But despite his certain thoughts, a small smirk appeared on the girl’s lips. Her hand rounded her side and rested gently over the Supe’s gloved one that still lay gently over her leg. Her fingers slowly wrapped around in a firm squeeze. A friendly gesture that was certainly not expected.

“Thank you,” she spoke. “Listen, I know you have a lot of pressure on you, more than I can imagine. I get why you are the way you are, even if it’s off putting. So, John, want to spill some feelings on me? Seems like a good start to a friendship here.”

For once he liked the way his name sounded on someone else’s lips. On her painted, glossed lips. It made him feel more important than any headline could.

“I dont know if I would go that far,” he laughed authentically for the first time in a long time. A new flush form on the girl’s face. This time not one of embarrassment or sadness.

“You know you’re not so bad when you let people actually have a conversation with you. I actually really liked this, thank you” They sat there for a moment, hands still in each other's grasp, basking in the feeling of whatever new union was between them and all the unspoken thoughts of what it meant or what it didn’t. The only things that were certain was that Homelander wasn’t going to let her far out of his sight from now on and anyone who wronged her would be thoroughly dealt with. One before the end of that very night.

The girl took in a deep breath next to him before standing slowly, her dress cascading down her legs as she let go of Homelander’s hand, “We should get back.”

His eyes watched her as she wiped any makeup that may have smudged out of place and fixed her hair until it sat perfectly at the crown of her head. That sugary scent of her perfume caught in the wind and wafted over him, filling him with craving instead of agitation. But that would have to wait. “I’ll be down in a minute.”

She looked down at him, a smidge of worry wrinkling between her brow, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just want another second before shaking a hundred more hands,” he smiled at her. It was a familiar smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, one that simmered something else behind it. But as he moved to tuck a wayward hair behind her ear, ease filled her veins. Whatever was on his mind was for him alone.

“Fair enough, I don't envy you,” she admitted, sharing a smile back. Though hers much more genuine as she looked over the Supe, “I’ll find you in there later for a picture of my own.”

Homelander listened to her giggle at her own joke as she turned to make her way back towards the staircase to rejoin the party downstairs. They shared one last look over her shoulder until she descended and disappeared below his view. His smile disappeared immediately without her presence. He had one thing to take care of before he could attempt to enjoy any part of his evening with his newly kindled whatever.

There wasn’t a chance he would let someone hurt what was his and he would make sure that was known to anyone that dared.

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