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asimplearchivist · 9 months

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‘ 𝓾𝓷𝓽𝓲𝓵 𝓶𝔂 𝓿𝓸𝓲𝓬𝓮 𝓲𝓼 𝓰𝓸𝓷𝓮 . ’

𝐂𝐇. 𝐈 𝐨𝐟 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒.

[𝓪𝓼𝓲𝓶𝓹𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓬𝓱𝓲𝓿𝓲𝓼𝓽'𝓼 𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽] [ 𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍 𝐊𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓 ] AO3 | SPOTIFY | PINTEREST summary ☾ ⤏ steven, unbeknownst to him, meets the love of his life at one of its lowest points. pairing(s) ☽ steven grant/reader word count ☾ 15.7k a/n ☽ [gif credit] ⤏ aka my personal love letter to one steven grant (and myself, because I want to be loved like I love just once). ⤏ i am going to be completely honest on this one, guys: this is a borderline self-insert fic that is 100% self-indulgent on my part bc i have felt like shit the last two months and want to treat myself. ⤏ i kept it as a reader-insert because a) some people (including myself) enjoy experiencing different ‘pov’s of reader-inserts, per se; b) it’s easier to be kinder to and romanticize myself when it’s ‘not me’; and c) i feel that it’s still vague/inclusive enough to be counted as a general reader-insert versus labeling it strictly as a self-insert/original character. i really only describe personality traits and the reader being petite, really (bc nothing comforts my 5’0” ass more than knowing i would actually be able to kiss the boys without craning my neck all the way back tbh). i use a few southern colloquialisms, too, just fyi. :) ⤏ typical moon knight fanfic disclaimer: I don’t claim to know very much about did beyond what I’ve gleaned from both the show, the various meta posts I’ve read on tumblr, and from other fanfics themselves, so please forgive and correct me on any glaring discrepancies/issues I may have presented here (or link me any posts that discuss more accurate representations of did, perhaps—that’d be greatly appreciated). some of the terminology/technicalities escape me. I tried my best to get their voices and characterizations just right, and I sincerely hope I succeeded bc they’re very special to me. ☽ MASTERPOST ☾ ☾ ☥ ⤏ NEXT CHAPTER ☽

The first time Steven met you, it was strictly by happenstance.

He had always considered himself a man with many friends. Although his routine was relatively simple compared to other Londoners who thrived in social settings and spent all of their free time anywhere but home to mingle and chase tail, he had familiar faces he saw frequently. He committed their names to memory when they’d give them off-handedly, he made a point to speak to them in passing even if he or they were otherwise occupied, and he kept a mental list composed of all the details he was able to glean strictly from observation when they didn’t readily volunteer the information.

Perhaps it was a little silly. All lot of them had trouble remembering him, sure, but he couldn’t hold it against them—tons of people had trouble keeping track of faces and people. Sure, JB never quite got his name right even after Steven had worked at the museum for a couple of months by now, but he was a busy man monitoring the security cameras all day long and stayed distracted (with his infatuation with otters, no less—as endearing of a trait as any for someone with a secret soft side). Donna stayed in a tizzy, always worked up over something beyond her control (Steven couldn’t imagine how difficult it must be dealing with the higher-ups trying to meet goals and attempting to exceed them). He didn’t really dislike them for it, even if it had grown rather grating as of late. (Even if it would only take them both a moment to look at his conveniently given and placed nametag.)

Crowley didn’t talk much, all part of the gig, so Steven didn’t hold their one-sided conversations against him, either. The gentleman with the broom cart (whose name Steven never had managed to catch, as gruff as he was) seemed only to ever respond with grunts. The security guards, the tour guides, the usual suspects on the morning and night bus rides…Steven interacted with them all, and they had enough good graces to acknowledge it most of the time.

Over time, however, as his dreams (or perhaps more aptly named nightmares) grew more vivid and more bizarre, as he seemed to lose track of time more and more (how exactly does one manage to miss an entire weekend when one isn’t a blackout drunk?), and as Steven’s anxiety led him into taking more and more precautions to make sure his self-diagnosed sleepwalking disorder didn’t strand him on the other side of London (again), it became more readily apparent that those people with whom he took such care to converse did not seem particularly inclined to return the favor. Sure, he’d accidentally nodded off a few times leaning on the other passengers in the morning bus, ran a little late at times getting to the museum (much to Donna’s ever-increasing ire), and maybe got a little carried away with his nattering when he got invested in something he was excited to share information about, but…would it really kill someone just to respond long enough to reassure him that he wasn’t virtually invisible?

It was one such morning after he overslept, convinced he was late, and worked himself into a right and proper state trying to get to the museum on time that he realized that it was, in fact, Sunday, not Saturday. Much to his bewilderment but proven by his phone, the museum stood barren and closed, doors locked and lights off. He stood at the entrance staring at his dumbfounded expression in the glass for a good five minutes, thoughts racing as he tried to recall anything about the previous day. There was no way he slept an entire day, right? He hadn’t been staying up too late trying to manage his disorder, even if he had been running a little tired lately.

His distress was punctuated by a fat, chilly droplet landing right on his nose. The early spring weather was unseasonably cold this year, leading to an abnormally wet season (as if rain could ever be abnormal in London, but the meteorologists remained convinced), and within seconds of Steven turning and trotting down the steps the skies parted and released their torrential downpour as if just to spite him specifically. Everyone else in the immediate vicinity, if they weren’t holed up in their cars or the myriad establishments bordering the museum district, already had their umbrellas up to shield themselves from the frigid onslaught, ambling along and circumnavigating the puddles lingering from the storm the night before..

Steven shrank into his coat, tugging the collar up and over his head as best he could as he crossed the street and aimed for the first building he saw with its neon, ivory OPEN sign glowing against the gloom—on the corner directly across from the museum entrance. The door was heavy, the handle cold enough he was surprised his palm didn’t stick to it, but he managed to pry it open and tumble inside.

A few people glanced up from their tables to give him a range of skeptical to humored looks before going about their business. Steven hedged to the side of the door in case someone else came in, dripping onto the old hardwood with no small amount of regret.

It was a coffee shop. Comfortingly warm against his numb face, he basked in the scents of espresso and sweets permeating the place. His attention was caught by the bookshelves on the wall to his right, and he was entranced—all until a barista slipped out from the kitchen and addressed him with a croon. “Oh, goodness, look like the weather caught you!”

Steven almost accidentally ignored you thinking that you were talking to someone else (for so rarely did someone speak to him in a tone that wasn’t irritated or dismissive). After his cursory glance in your direction, he did a double-take, realizing you were looking right at him.

“Yeah, I—looked at the forecast wrong, methinks!” he responded sheepishly (and he had—he’d been expecting Saturday’s overcast mist, not Sunday’s shower). “I’m makin’ a right mess, aren’t I? I should probably go before I warp the stain—”

“No! No, just wait a second.” You raised a placating palm before dipping below sight behind the counter. You emerged and rounded the corner next to the display case holding a towel, walking right up to him and offering it to him with a sympathetic smile. “I can’t count the number of times I thought I could beat Mother Nature,” you joked. “It sucks that it’s been so cold on top of it. I’m surprised I haven’t gotten sick.”

Steven accepted it graciously, muttering his earnest thanks as he went about mopping up his sopping curls. Once he’d wiped all the rain he could off of him, he handed it back to you. “Hope I don’t get one, neither,” he responded. “It just wouldn’t do to catch cold in the middle of all this, would it? No.”

You chuckled a bit, eyes glittering with mirth. “Maybe it’ll help if I get you something hot to drink?”

Steven glanced at the menu hanging on the wall behind the counter, eyes rounding a little at the prices. He’d overspent on books again after payday, so he was having to be a bit more frugal this week than usual. “Oh, no, don’t go to the trouble, I’ll just call a cab and get a ride home before it gets too bad.”

“It’s no trouble at all,” you assured him, wringing the towel between your hands. You hesitated only a heartbeat before you leaned in a little closer, smile turning a bit bashful. “I’ll make it on the house, how’s that sound?”

Steven normally considered himself one to give where charity was concerned, but he had to admit that the sound of something warm on his urgently empty stomach was divine at the moment. He cleared his throat, glancing towards the other customers still wrapped up in their own little worlds. “No, I couldn’t—wouldn’t want anyone jealous that they’re not gettin’ the special treatment, you know.”

“It can be our little secret,” you offered quietly, winking conspiratorially at him.

He blinked, heat creeping up into his face. “Oh, well. If you insist, then…just this once?”

“All right.” Your smile lit up your entire face, and you headed back behind the counter to deposit the towel in an unseen hamper.

Steven followed, training his eyes on the menu—the standard fare was reasonable, with alternative options for dietary restrictions. A lot of the custom concoctions did seem lovely, and he was a tad surprised to discover that they served breakfast and lunch, also—with vegan options, most notably. “Wow, I never even knew this place existed. I must’ve been walkin’ right by it this whole time.”

“Do you work at the museum?” you inquired, folding your arms over the counter and propping your chin up in your palm.

“I do, actually,” he beamed, though it was dashed a tad with his next confession. “I want to be a tour guide one day—you know, I’ve been studyin’ up for it and all—but they’ve got me in the gift shop. For now! They said they’d move me up with a new position becomes available.” They said that they would consider him for the role, but Steven clung to his hope that they’d soon realize how bloody good he’d be at it, as hard as he’d been working for it for so long.

“You always have to start somewhere,” you replied warmly. You gestured to the shop around you. “This is just to hold me over ‘til I’m finished up.”

“Are you a transfer student?” Steven asked.

Your brow rose slightly, but your smile didn’t waver. “How observant. Most people ask me how I got lost on this side of the pond.”

“It isn’t often I see Americans anywhere but in the more touristy spots,” he agreed, “but the university is quite prestigious. You must be very academically successful if you landed a transfer scholarship like that.”

“It took a lot of work,” you admitted, “but it’s been worth it. I never thought I’d do anything like this, and I would’ve laughed at you a couple of years ago if you’d told me I’d move this far away from home. I’ve never really been the traveling type, but I’m so grateful that I’ve had the opportunity to do so.”

“What are you studyin’?” Steven inquired. An English major, perhaps—you struck him as the literary type with your articulation, despite your soft, southern drawl.

“Oh.” Your face darkened and you fiddled with the hem of your sweatshirt—dark gray, warm flannel, with a silver astronomical design embroidered into the front. “Well. I went to a university back home and got a degree in writing—” Nailed it! “—but I was notified at graduation that I qualified for this so I thought why not? It’s a bit self-indulgent, really, as I’ve always been a history nut, but I’m, um…” You reached up and scratched the nape of your neck, glancing away as though embarrassed. “...focusing on Egyptology?”

Steven’s brows shot halfway up his forehead. “No kiddin’!”

“Nope,” you confessed, a bit sheepish. “I picked up a book with pictures of King Tutankhamun’s treasures when I was three and I’ve been in love with it since. Maybe it’s a little niche, but it makes me happy—I’m taking other history classes, too, so I’ll end up with an Ancient History major with a minor in Egyptology—that’s just my main focus since I always wanted to be an Egyptologist when I was little. I don’t know that I could ever stand the heat, though, so I’m happy with writing in the comfort of my own home.”

“No, that’s great!” he raved, grinning from ear to ear. “I’m a bit of a history buff meself! The museum has a huge Egyptology exhibit coming up next month, so I’ve been brushin’ up on it all. You know, in case I get to audition.”

“Oh, yeah?” you tried, emerging from your shell just a bit. “Do you have a favorite period?”

“New Kingdom, definitely,” he said immediately. His heart was thrumming, and he was trying (in vain) to contain at least the majority of his enthusiasm. “There’s just so much material to go through. All the texts recovered from Deir el-Medina fascinate me to no end!”

“Yeah, Paneb was a right bastard,” you joked. “He had the whole town stirred up all the time. But we’re not going to talk about Ea-Nasir.”

“Oh, yeah—imagine keepin’ all your hate mail for posterity,” he returned, strumming his fingers against the inside of his sleeves. “What about you?”

“Oh, I’m an Old Kingdom gal,” you said with a chuckle. “Pepi II’s letter about the pygmy won me over. Not to mention all the drama with Teti’s assassination. The workmen’s village at Giza? Oh, how could I pick one thing?”

Finally! Finally, it felt like Steven was talking to someone that spoke his language!

“It’s really hard to, isn’t it?” His stomach was starting to grumble. He cleared his throat, tamping down his anticipation just enough to concentrate on the matter at hand. He glanced up at the menu again, a little remiss with some of the unfamiliar choices—most of those displayed were coffee, but he’d been trying to curb himself off of it in favor of cutting out caffeine altogether for a better sleep schedule. “I, um…sorry, got a little sidetracked there. What would you recommend that’s decaf?”

“Oh, I love chai,” you told him. “Most of the teas we carry are decaf, though we do have decaf coffee, too. We’ve got all the usuals like chamomile, mint, Earl Grey…” You tilted your head slightly. “I’ve been avoiding caffeine since I was a teenager—it makes me antsy.”

“How do you normally take your chai?” he queried, curious.

“As an iced latte,” you said. “Cold foam, cinnamon, whole milk. I like it warm, too, especially this time of year, but there’s something about it iced that I can’t seem to part from—maybe that’s the southern upbringing in me.” You gestured to the equipment behind you. “Would you like to try it?”

“Yeah, sure! But with oat milk, please?”

“You’ve got it, darlin’,” you beamed, and set to work immediately. “I usually drink a small since it’s a bit sweet, that okay?”

“Certainly.”

Never would Steven have thought that he’d find such a deeply kindred soul a stone’s throw away from his workplace he’d never even noticed before today. He had to confess that he was charmed by you almost instantly. It had been a while since he’d met someone so engaging and open—not to mention generous and drop-dead gorgeous to boot! Ironic, really, that the foreigner was treating him more kindly than his native kinsmen. What did the Americans say about southern hospitality?

“Thank you so much,” he said when you returned with the cup and set it in front of him. “It looks great!”

“Go ahead and try it,” you suggested, “and if you don’t like it, I’ll replace it for you with something else.”

Steven had absolutely no intention of telling you to your face that he disliked your favorite beverage, even if he did decide it wasn’t to his taste—much less make you go out of your way to make him another free drink. But as he sipped the heady, sweet mixture the spices melted over his tongue. Despite being served cold, the flavors warmed his mouth and settled cozily into his belly.

“Oh,” he suspired, licking the foam from his lips, “that’s lovely. You’ve won a convert.”

Your smile was nearly blinding with delight. “I’m glad! It’s not for everyone, certainly, but those who do like it always seem to love it. No in between, I guess.”

Steven resisted the urge to suck the entire thing down, folding it between his hands instead as he committed more details of your appearance to memory. Your black apron was a bit big for your frame, dwarfing you a bit, but your sweatshirt did, too—your jeans were well-fitted but not snug. You were wearing very little makeup, just a touch around the eyes, but it emphasized your lashes like a fawn’s. While comfortable, if a bit plain, your ensemble made you seem like the epitome of homey.

“How long have you lived in London?” he asked after another delightful sip.

“Since the start of spring semester,” you said. “It was a big adjustment to show up at the tail end of winter, but I think I’ve gotten the hang of it now for the most part. I still get lost occasionally, but that’s why Google Maps was invented. I’d be up a creek without a paddle without it.” You leaned against the counter again, bracing yourself on the stained surface and gazing up at him as if there existed no other person in the world. “I live right next to the campus, but I work here to get away even though my scholarships carry most of my bills and fees. Ironic, though, ‘cause I don’t exactly consider myself a socialite.”

“You’ve fooled me,” he said with a chuckle. “Bit odd bein’ an ambivert, yeah?”

“I really only talk a lot when I get excited or when I’m with people I’m comfortable being around,” you confessed shyly. “I’ve been told I talk too much about stuff nobody really cares about, so I try not to bother anyone.”

“Now who on earth would have gone and told you that?” he pressed, heart aching all the while. How many times had he been told the very same thing, sometimes with less polite wording?

“Oh, not exactly like that,” you rectified in a hurry, “it’s just…you can tell, you know? When someone isn’t really paying attention to anything you’re saying. I usually get interrupted anyway, so sometimes I find it easier just to keep quiet.” Your skin darkened again, and cleared your throat as you dipped your face to conceal it with a hand. “Oh, I’m sorry. I don’t know why I went into all that. See? Rambling too much—words got away from me.”

It was like looking into a mirror—so much so that Steven almost felt a bit of deja-vu.

“No, don’t be sorry,” he said softly. “I understand completely—really, I do. Better than you might think.”

You raised your gaze back up to him, and he understood at once why the philosophers and poets both waxed so romantic on the concept of windows to the soul. He could see your tenderness, your diffidence, your sincerity all there in your jewel-like eyes.

“People talkin’ over you all the time,” he continued with a low murmur, looking down at the cup when the intensity of your stare grew too much—just like looking directly into the sun, “actin’ like you’re invisible or somethin’. Gets frustratin’, yeah? Couldn’t even bother to act like you’re there, could they? No. Seems like too much to ask.”

“Yeah,” you said somberly, but when Steven dared a glance up at you, your expression was one of complete understanding. Never before had he felt so seen. “It doesn’t help when you’re really not a people person to begin with.”

And now that Steven considered it more deeply, he realized that you were right—why did he prefer to stay home rather than go out? Keeping company with a goldfish certainly wasn’t an extrovert’s definition of a good time. Hell, the only reason he really went out of his way to engage with those on the fringes of his daily routine was because he felt it was rude not to because of constant exposure, not because he was itching to have the conversations themselves. He worried constantly that he’d overshare or annoy people, when most wouldn’t even think of it.

He let out a soft laugh, pressing a palm across his forehead.

You quirked a brow, your expression perking up just a bit at the sound. “What?”

“I just realized I’m not really a people person, either,” he said, shaking his head. “Thought all this time everyone else was just awkward at social interaction.”

“Oh,” you chuckled, and there was that ephemeral sparkle of mirth back in your eyes. “Well. Better late than never, right?”

“Right.” He paused, then set the drink on the counter to fish around in his pocket for his wallet. “Here, since you’ve been an absolute angel—”

“Oh, no, please,” you said, waving your palms at him in an attempt to dissuade him, “it was my pleasure. Finding someone else as big of a nerd about Ancient Egypt was tip enough, thank you. You’ve made my whole day.”

And even though his morning thus far had been an utter disaster, Steven believed that you had made his entire day, too.

“Well, all right.” He pointed a finger at you with a wry, toothy grin. “But next time you won’t be able to talk me out of it.”

“Next time?” you echoed, and the unadulterated hope in your eyes made his heart clench.

“Yeah,” he said, “where else will I be able to order the ambrosia of the gods? And nerd out about ancient civilizations? Not all baristas carry a double-edged sword like you do.”

You bit your lip, rolled the hem of your sleeve between your fingertips, and looked down and away. “Oh, stop it. It’s really just a hobby.” You gave him another cheeky smile. “But, if it would make a difference to you, since you seem the type…” You leaned in across the counter, and Steven found himself copying the action as though you had magnetized him. “...there’s a bookstore upstairs, too.”

Oh, bloody Nora, as if you weren’t already perfect enough.

Read the rest of the chapter here! :)

#fisara's codices #fanfiction #moon knight #steven grant #reader insert #steven grant/reader #steven grant x reader #steven grant x you #moon knight x reader #moon knight fanfiction #steven grant fluff #steven grant fanfiction

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nerdyvocals · 9 months

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9 People to Know Better (except I'm not tagging 9 people)

I don't normally do tag games, but I got tagged in this twice (by @jealous-kippen and @remmixx, my beloveds <3) so here I am! (also as I'm writing this out I am realizing that while both posts were titled the same way, it looks like they had different question prompts??? So I'm just gonna combine the two)

Favorite Color: Purple! Any shade will have my heart but I am partial to more red-toned purples. (PV, if that means anything to anyone who sees this other than me, you know who you are)

Currently Reading: Three things! In terms of actual books, I've been slowly making my way through the Riordanverse since my university did The Lightning Thief in my second year (first school in my state to do it once the rights were released!) since I somehow never got into Percy Jackson as a kid, and I'm currently on Son of Neptune. I'm also one like my third or fourth re-read of Eurydice by Sara Ruhl, since that's the play I'm designing the costumes for for my senior project. And in terms of fanfic, I woke up to a notification about this yesterday and Actually Screeched.

Last Song: Dial Drunk by Noah Kahan (ft. Post Malone), which was a bit of an accident. I use siri to request music while I'm driving and I asked for Dial Drunk and was singing along until I got jumpscared by the slight difference before Post Malone's verse. Although if you look at my spotify, the ROTPL album has been on repeat for weeks.

Currently Watching (Series): I've been hyperfixated on ROTPL and have watched it over a dozen times at this point, which is probably not healthy, so I put on NCIS last night for background noise while I ate dinner and accidentally watched like six episodes.

Currently Watching (Movie): Saw the Barbie movie the night before the actual opening with my coworkers (We don't cross picket lines people! I was not asked nor invited by any company, and I paid full price for my ticket. There's a one-screen theatre in the town where I'm doing summer stock, this relic from the 50's, and they were able to get access to the film a day early and did a special first come first serve premiere.) and we all sobbed the entire way through.

Current Obsession: Rise of the Pink Ladies. Full stop. I'd seen clips of it when it first aired in April but I was iffy on it in spite of how good it looked. Like most, I'm a little tired of reboots and remakes, and while I did clock Cynthia as being queer within two seconds, (I believe my exact words were "That's either a very butch lesbian or the eggiest egg to ever egg.") I was Convinced it was a queerbait situation. Plus I was nearing finals and didn't have time to get into a new show. But then Crushing Me was trending on tiktok and I realized this was not queerbait, so I put it on to have something playing while I packed for summer stock and it's been the only thing I can think about since mid May. It got me writing fanfic again for the first time in years, if that tells you anything. Speaking of,

Currently Working On: A follow-up to my previous fic, Steady, Steady! I wanted to have it up this week, but it is a behemoth. I'm a little over halfway through my plot outline and I'm at 10,441 words. Fun fact, this will be my longest single-chapter fic so far. Not just in the fandom, not just on AO3, but ever (so far!)

No-Pressure Tagging: @merely-a-player, @penguin-writes-books, @el-fandom-birb, @marley-barnes112, @isweartheyregayyourhonor, and @look-at-those-niceass-rocks (since I've already dragged you back to tumblr kicking and screaming)

#tag game #this was fun #and also longer than I expected

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whatacaitastrophe · 4 months

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Is It Over Now?

Summary: Silence was not something Gale Dekarios had ever been able to sit with very long, so instead of asking Fallon to say something, or waiting patiently to find the words, he continued. “I hope you know that I shall never forget you. On the contrary, I imagine you’ll be on my mind every day. As a god, I can give you everything, Fallon. The moon, the stars…you name it, and it will be yours…but first I have to get there, and I need to do it on my own. I promise that as soon as I achieve what I am setting out to do, I will come back to you, and we can live among the stars for the rest of our days.”

Then, as though he were saying goodbye to an acquaintance he’d only known for a short amount of time, and not the lover he’d just promised the moon and stars to, Gale Dekarios bowed deeply to Fallon as he backed away before vanishing into thin air.

--An alternative summary: Gale leaves to seek the Crown of Karsus without even kissing Fallon (Tav) goodbye, she does not handle it well, and by the time she starts to put the pieces back together, Gale comes back and everything gets complicated.--

Rating: Explicit 18+

Pairing: Astarion x Tav (female), Past Gale x Tav (female), Shadowheart x Lae'zel (mentioned)

AO3 Link: Here

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Suicide Attempt, Drinking to Cope, Blood Drinking, Mentions of PTSD, Suicidal Thoughts, Panic Attacks, POV- Multiple, Toxic Relationships, Frottage, Oral Sex, MxF sex, Slow Burn, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Rough Sex, Pining, All My Homies Hate Mystra

Spotify Playlist: Here

Prologue

Chapter 1: One Year Later

Chapter 2: You're Letting Go

Chapter 3: Baby Girl, We're Gonna Be Legends

Chapter 4: There's A Limit to Everything

Chapter 5: You're Scared of Love, Well Aren't We All?

Chapter 6: I'll Bring You Heaven, If That's What You Need

Chapter 7: I Hear You're Alive. How Disappointing

Chapter 8: I've Also Survived, No Thanks to You

Chapter 9: I Guess Only The Stars Would Know The Truth

Chapter 10: Right Where You Left Me

Chapter 11: Breathing In Your Dust

Chapter 12: Call Me A Safe Bet, I'm Betting I'm Not

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 tav #female tav #astarion x tav #gale x tav #astarion x gale x tav #love triangle #angst #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fanfic #baldur's gate 3 fanfiction #bg3 smut #astarion smut #astarion fanfic #gale fanfic #gale smut #slow burn

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harrysmmm · 10 months

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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐇𝐨𝐠𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 - 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Draco Malfoy x Y/N Riddle (f!reader)

Setting: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince

Summary: Y/N Riddle was raised by Druella Black, her father vanished from the living in an attempt of killing Harry Potter, her mother remained a mystery to the girl. On her fifteenth birthday, the Dark Lord rises from the dead and commends her a mission: to find the Relics of Hogwarts within the castle and to bring them back to him, for his life depends on them. Y/N attends the sixth year at Hogwarts - students are curious about her because of her apparent connection to the former student Cedric Diggory, the golden trio suspects her and tries to dismantle her plan and Draco Malfoy, the Slytherin boy she grew up with, starts feeling maybe something more than just childhood affection. Objects to find, people to trust, feelings to understand, and a bloodline to hide. The Heir of Slytherin is back.

Started: 27th of June 2023 Finished: -

Spotify playlist of the fanfiction (if you really want to get in the vibe of it). I will be updating it as I write it.

ao3 link of the fanfiction

Chapters:

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏 - 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐥𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐 - 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐧𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟑 - 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐥𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟒 - 𝐀𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐚

masterlist here

Some notes:

The story is based on the 6th movie of Harry Potter. The plot will be nearly the same, although this fanfiction adds the plot of the reader - which intertwines with the original one.

Draco's relationship with Y/N is important, but it is not everything. This fanfiction will revolve around the main plot of Y/N's commended mission, her desperate need of finding her mother among others. If you're only looking for Draco and Y/N content during the entire reading, you will not find it here. Everything for the plot, am I right?

I won't set any age requirements because I know you guys don't really listen to that. But I find myself in the position to warn you that you're likely to find things such as: sexual explicit content, swearing, struggles with mental health, and maybe some twisted sad moments. If you enjoy the intensity, you might really enjoy this.

If you want to contact me about the fanfiction (talk about it, ask for more updates aha, suggest something) you can do it through the comment section or my inbox. I'll gladly reply, I love replying!

Also, please do not copy, translate it, claim it as your own. It is not fun, nor acceptable. If you want to translate, get in contact with me beforehand!

The rights to the Wizarding World, the plot of the book, and most characters go to J.K. Rowling, of course.

(I will add more things if they come up - so, don't hesitate to come back to this page throughout the reading)

Thank you so much for reading. This fic is for you <3

#draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy masterlist #hogwarts masterlist #harry potter mastterlist #draco malfoy smut #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy x y/n riddle

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tatooinequeeen · 6 months

Text

Greedy

Simon “Ghost” Riley & König x Female Reader

Ao3

Spotify

Triggers: full p in v baby! Some rough handling, overstimulation

Chapter Three: Honey (Are You Coming?)

König’s words echoed around your brain in the most delicious way. You had barely heard him speak in the two years you had known him and to find out he talked like this in the bedroom? You could combust from that alone. Your body shook with aftershocks of your earth shattering orgasm and your thighs were clamped around König’s head in a vice grip. How he could breathe you had no idea but still, he kept licking you. Gentler now, sending your body winding into another spiral of pleasure but before you could completely unravel he pressed a soft kiss to your clit and slid his hands up the outside of your thighs to release his head.

“Ready for more, Mein Schätzelein?” He let the German phrase slip, his accent sharper and oh so sexy. You ran a hand through his hair, memorizing the texture and length. “What’s that mean?” Your voice was hoarse from shouting. He nuzzled into your palm when it met his temple.

“My little treasure.” You couldn’t stop smiling at his casual use of the possessive. You breathed in deeply, “I am absolutely ready for more.” König huffed out a laugh on your skin above your hip before gripping you and sending you flying onto your stomach. You let out a shriek of surprise, anticipation curling low in your belly already. He propped you up on your knees, running his palms across each ass cheek to trail up the middle of your back to your shoulders. You were so focused on the feeling of him touching you everywhere, it was a complete shock when he ripped your shirt off your face. You let out a light gasp, “Oh!” He returned his hands to your hips where he began rocking his denim clad cock against you in a tantalizing motion.

“I’ll let you see me without the mask soon, just not right now. Right now, the mask stays on.” Truthfully you didn’t care, you had grown so used to Ghost’s mask that it didn’t phase you and truth be told it excited you to be fucked by a man who’s face couldn’t be seen. Only his eyes. All the intensity poured from them and it was impossible to feel anything but desired. You reached back to brush your hand against his, “Take your time, sweetheart. I’m not in a rush.” His grip tightened, pinching the skin at your waist and the nip sent your teeth into the flesh of your bottom lip. “You have no clue what you do to me.” His voice had gotten deeper, more animalistic. You ground back into his erection, still frustratingly hidden behind his jeans. “I think I have some idea.” Your voice held a teasing quality but you were about done being teased. You wanted him inside you. Now.

You felt him retreat, leaving you bereft but heard the buckle of his belt snap open and when he slid the zipper down you swore the sound was so loud it could be heard outside. Your heart was jack hammering in your chest, breaths panting out of you uncontrollably. This was it, you were about to feel him.

König returned but instead of rough denim against your swollen pussy it was the velvet hardness of the head of his cock. You sank back against him, shameless, desperate to have him slip inside you. He hummed, “Not just yet.” You felt like growling, going out of your mind for this man.

“Do you want me to beg König? Because I will.” Your voice had gotten reedy with sexual frustration. He didn’t give you an answer, just ran the tip through your dripping folds and when he circled your clit, you felt the barbell. “Oh my God. You’re pierced?” He laughed then, putting more pressure against your sensitive flesh. It felt divine, it felt forbidden. “If you keep doing that,” you panted, “I’m going to come again.”

He let out a soft laugh ending on a growl.

“Oh no liebling, you’re going to shatter around my cock so I can put you back together in a way that you only fit me.”

Jesus Christ. Had you ever heard something so sinful in your entire life?

It was after that declaration that he positioned himself perfectly and rocked into your pussy, the head teasing your entrance. As he pressed forward the stretch was unbelievable. Your eyes slammed shut as you did your best to relax into taking him. You had obviously never seen him naked before so this introduction was proving to be mind blowing. He stroked a hand up your spine. “Relax Mein Engel, you can take me.” Another inch and your back was arching, one more and the burn was a sharp edged pleasure. How could you possibly take all of him when it felt like he was physically splitting you open?

After an eternity he hilted himself inside you, the barbell through the head of his cock kissing your cervix in an explosion of ecstasy. “Ah, König. Please.” Your words ended in a moan. “Mmm, so you begged for me afterall.” He chuckled darkly before pulling back slightly, teasing you. Your eyes rolled back in your head at the sensation, he was too big, this was too much, but you couldn’t stop, you needed him as badly as your next breath. He pushed back into you, pulling your hips toward him in a rough slap of flesh. Moans began dripping from your lips, nonsense spilling as he picked up his pace, lighting your insides on fire. You were incredibly wet but still his cock tugged at your walls, sending sparks of lightning through your body. You were made for him.

Your orgasm began coiling low at the base of your spine, tingles shooting down your limbs as König slammed into you, growling when he bottomed out. “You’re heaven, I’ll never be able to give you up now.” His words sent you into overdrive. You wanted this for the rest of your life, you already knew how good you had it with Ghost but this was truly the other half of you. König and Ghost would complete you in a way you had never thought possible and only dared to dream.

“Never give me up, baby.” You could barely utter the words through broken breaths and moans but he heard you anyway. He began thrusting into you so hard you thought you might fall face first into the bed. No sooner had the thought crossed your mind than you felt a hand snake into your hair at the nape of your neck and shove you into the mattress, tilting your jaw so you could breathe.

The angle, my God.

König reached the other hand around to circle your clit with his thumb, still punishing you with his cock. His grunts and curses in German were winding you up just as much as every other sensation and your orgasm threatened to break on a particularly brutal thrust.

“I’m so close.” The words sighed out of you, your body completely surrendering to König’s passion. He applied a bite of pressure at your clit and the feel of him so hard inside you, the barbell hitting you in just the perfect way shattered you. You screamed out his name, gripping the bedding around you so hard your knuckles turned white. He kept rocking into you, never slowing - knowing already that overstimulation was something you craved. His cock swelled inside you, your pussy gripping him impossibly tight, before he splashed your inner walls with his come, your name a chant on his sinful lips.

He finally slowed his pace, wringing the pleasure from both of you, drawing out this moment for an eternity of bliss.

You must have blacked out from sensory overload because the tender stroke of his hands down your back finally coaxed your eyes open. You blinked in the light of your bedroom, your face still pressed into the mattress. Flexing the stiffness out of your fingers you let the lightning strikes of orgasm aftershock take you. His hands reached your hips once more, his favorite spot, and in a move of delicious agony he pulled out. You felt his come start to drip down your thigh but he was quick to swipe it up with his finger and press it back inside you. You gasped at the intrusion, the debauchery.

König hummed, another finger slipping inside you.

“You look so pretty covered in my come, liebling.”

Note from Tatooinequeen: Saturday post for you sweet babies because I have an especially debauched chapter for Halloween 😈 xoxox

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #call of duty fanfic #simon ghost riley fanfic #konig mw2 #konig smut #konig x reader #smut #konig x y/n #konig x ghost #konig cod #konig x you #konig

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conjectureand-gloom · 3 months

Text

‎‧₊˚✩ 🪐✩˚₊‧ welcome! ‎‧₊˚✩ 🪐✩˚₊‧

important information ⬎

alex

they/he/xe/it

non binary 💛🤍💜🖤

lesbian ❤️🧡🤍🩷💜

youreverydaydemikid -> conjectureand-gloom (15/01/24)

minor (february 8th)

multifandom

fanfiction writer

GMT +10:30

INFP-T

2w1

lyn lapid fan blog @tlit21c

i stand with palestine 🇵🇸

my new main account is @holesofmy-sweater

links ⬎

my ao3

my spotify

my pinterest

my instagram (that i’m barely active on)

hamilton fanfic recommendations

2023 reflection post

fandom list, fanfiction request masterlist, written works, wips, asks, tags and mutuals under the cut

‎‧₊˚✩ 🪐✩˚₊‧ fandom list ‎‧₊˚✩ 🪐✩˚₊‧

hamilton (feel free to request for any hamilton ship, i love them all so much, alexander is the absolute DREAM for a multishipper. alexander is my main target for angst! this is my main fandom)

jesus christ superstar (jesus/judas or jesus/judas/mary mainly for jcs, but feel free to ask for any other ships and i’ll consider it!! and no, i am not religious. i have been raised christian, but just ended up with religious trauma)

a good girls guide to murder (pipravi fluff and angst :) but i’ll so gladly write fics about sal and andie, or becca. ravi is my comfort character, and i just torture pip relentlessly)

nevermoor (personally i’m more of a cadence/morrigan girly, but fics for nevermoor will mainly be gen! i love found family, so jupiter & mog fluff or angst is my favourite)

in the heights (canon ships mainly, but feel free to ask for other ships! i’m not in the ITH fandom much, so these are going to be much more inaccurate)

newsies (again, more gen fics, but i do ship dave/jack. also i love angsty crutchie fics. this is one of my smaller fandoms, so these will be super inaccurate)

keeper of the lost cities (preferably marella/linh or tam/keefe! but again, feel free to ask for any ship!!)

hunger games (gen, preferably. but i’m team peeta in case anyone was wondering. fuck gale.)

maze runner (okay i haven’t read or seen TMR in ages but newt/thomas)

divergent (canon ships only. and no, christina/tobias is not canon.)

six (gen all the way. found family. also i love katherine howard angst over any other queen)

the song of achilles (achilles/patroclus? literally what other ship is there????? this is my favourite book)

wednesday (wednesday/enid. i feel like this requires no explanation. also. angst fics. i almost exclusively write angsty wednesday fics, rather than enid. i love the whole of the addams family, and i love familial hurt/comfort)

marauders (i’m not in the marauders fandom much at all, like i really only know the actual hp canon marauders. so.)

‎‧₊˚✩ 🪐✩˚₊‧ fanfic request rules ‎‧₊˚✩ 🪐✩˚₊‧

i’ll write for any fandom listed above, i love them all! however i am much more active in hamilton, agggtm, jcs, nevermoor and kotlc, so those fics will be much better than the other fandoms’ would be

i’ll write any genre other than smut, and angst/whump is my absolute favourite. any AUs you could think of, literally anything, i’m not picky!

i won’t write romanticised abuse, non/con, or anything like that. that’s not to say that my fics can’t have dark aspects, but i won’t romanticise any of that.

on that, i’m not going to write any non/con, romanticised or not

also, i won’t write omegaverse, nor will i write y/n or self insert fics. nothing wrong with those genres, i just don’t write them!

‎‧₊˚✩ 🪐✩˚₊‧ written works ‎‧₊˚✩ 🪐✩˚₊‧

It’s Only A Matter Of Time - A Hamilton Watches Hamilton Fic

i wish i could say that was the last time

call me son one more time

when they surround our troops

then a hurricane came

take a break

and his right hand man…

she was holding me

the great war

we got traffic on the west side

steal into my affections

the fact that you’re alive is a miracle

fools who run their mouths off wind up dead

my father wasn’t around

philip, you would like it uptown

i may not live to see our glory…

an outrageous demand

stay alive

my dear, angelica

to convince you that i love you

but this situation’s helpless

like mother, like daughter (agggtm)

“but now this room is spinning…”

“i’ll call out your name but you won’t call back”

“like crying out in empty rooms, with no one there except the moon”

me in your sweater, you said it looked better on me than it did you (gifted to @holes-in-my-false-confidence)

baby it’s cold outside

the entire exposé (inspired entirely off of @jittyjames’ fanfiction series ‘the price of his war’)

my world is burning (yet another fic based off of jami’s series ‘the price of his war’)

i’m sorry if any of these links are incorrect, i spent over an hour on just this section

‎‧₊˚✩ 🪐✩˚₊‧ wips ‎‧₊˚✩ 🪐✩˚₊‧

achilles, come down (last two works in series still need to be written)

je m’appelle… lafayette? (one chapter to go)

lams (taylor’s version) (a few chapters to go, unsure if it will be finished)

you’re the one who disappears (agggtm, unsure if it will be finished, or when)

judas’ death (jcs angst fanfiction)

untitled (hamil-gang liminal spaces au longfic thing idk)

febuwhump drabbles (possibly)

be my valentine challenge

so big/so small (so big/so small from deh but hamilton and his ma)

bloom like rose thorns (a longfic that may or may not ever be finished)

rewrite of ‘i wish i could say that was the last time’ and ‘call me son one more time’

baby don’t cut (lams angst based off of a song with the same name)

‎‧₊˚✩ 🪐✩˚₊‧ collaborations ‎‧₊˚✩ 🪐✩˚₊‧

fem!hamilton au with @jittyjames and @firebalda

if anybody is interested in collabing at all, please hit me up!! i love writing with other people!!!!

‎‧₊˚✩ 🪐✩˚₊‧ asks ‎‧₊˚✩ 🪐✩˚₊‧

please send me any asks at all!!! and also please put fic requests in my ask box, i did say that i would have your request out in 6 months, but i have had one sitting in there for over a year (sorry jami.) but um. i promise im trying to get better at that

also, feel free to ask for fic recommendations!!!! i’ve linked a post earlier in this post with a huge list, but it’s not fully updated with some more recent fics :)

‎‧₊˚✩ 🪐✩˚₊‧ tags ‎‧₊˚✩ 🪐✩˚₊‧

asks- all the asks ive answered, these are also tagged with the url of the blog, or with anon dearest if it was an anon ask

akeyla ml- posts about/with my incredible incredible partner @holes-in-my-false-confidence who i love so much ❤❤❤❤❤❤

tag games- self explanatory, tag games :)

sleep is overrated- me trying to fix my sleep schedule in 2024

personal- personal vent posts. please block this tag, i have had someone unfollow me before because of these posts :)

₊˚✩ 🪐✩˚₊‧ mooties ‎‧₊˚✩ 🪐✩˚₊‧

@jittyjames

@like-the-stars-i-shine (irl friend for 5 years now)

@holes-in-my-false-confidence (my partner, irl <33333)

@felizusnavidad

@weeping-in-the-willows

@swiftieannah

@the1laff

@anixknowsnothin

@purpleblobfrompluto

@starduckys

@now-thats-his-bride

@kwilooo

@evilteapot (irl friend)

@my-dear-gal

@idontwanttobeabuzzkill

@mynightsoutofsight

@cc-horan28

i have more mutuals, but this is everybody who i interact with more often and i actually consider to be my friend. if anybody wants to ever message me or actually become friends with me, please do!!!! i love talking to you guys, please message me, i promise im not scary <333

#intro post #hamilton #hamilton musical #fanfics #fanfiction #ao3 #fanfiction writer #writers #akeyla ml #yes i have told yall my birthday bc yall cant do absolutely anything with knowing my birthdate #just dont ask me for the year pls #im a teenager thats all yall need to know

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romanarose · 5 months

Text

If You Wanna Be Wild: Chapter 5

Co-written with @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction my beloved Fen, who I could not do this without. Thank you for being my emotional sounding board, my dear friend, my wonderful cowriter and helpful beta reader. I adore you.

Javier Peña x Latina!sex worker!informant!Reader x Santiago Garcia

Join my general tag list (Comment to join the tag list for this fic)

Triple Frontier Master List

Spotify Playlist

Series Masterlist : Read on AO3

Summary: Javier, Candy, and Santi kiss and make up. Except Javi and Santi don't kiss. Yet.

Content and warnings for whole fic, not chapter by chapter unless something is added: Sex work, drug trade, some drug use/pressured used, sex workers and the mistreatment/stigma surrounding them specifically in the 70’s (my blog is sex worker positive) but ima put potential dub con depending how you look at it as a sex worker who works with dangerous men, some action surrounding reader and the guys and the drug trade, SMUT HEAVY, corruption kink (were corrupting santi here, he’s young, 25), no loss of virginity tho, threesomes, some slight m/m smut but that’s not the focus here, but as you know this blog is an lgbt blog so I’m always open to gay shit. Talk of war and some PTSD but I won't be going a whole lot into it. Covert/emotional incest in the past, Santi's mommy issues, m/m dynamics, internalized bi/homophobia

For the record, this is a fic that takes place in the drug trade and deals with the darker side of humanity, so anything from Narco's and Triple Frontier is liable to be discussed or mentioned here. This is your warning. This is not a dark fic nor is it centered around dark themes like Leather and Lace or Sunshine Starlight Sweetheart Brightside, but they are open to be talked about.

Reader has a nick name: Candy. Not her real name just what she goes by on her profession. Much of the inspo for this and for the title came from the Bruce Springsteen song “Candy’s room” so check it out for the vibes.

Reader speaks Spanish and has hair. I've decided Candy is just latina bc she's a sex worker in Colombia so this is what I'm doing. Reader also has curly hair and dark skin.

ADDITIONAL WARNINGS!: Santi's panicy trauma response. Nothing crazy he just needs Javi to like him so so bad. Food and eating. SMUT! Fingering, reach around hand job, multiple orgasms, edging, praising, talking you through it, talking HIM through it, more hints at homoerotic subtext.

Thank you as always to my beloved Fen <3 I couldn't do this without your encouragement.

2.5 words

A/N Since I am apparently an incomprehensible writer, please know that the lst smut scene here is not a threesome, it's Javi fingering Candy and Candy flashing back to her giving Santi a reach around handjob. I wanted to compare and contrast the way the two pairs care for and pleasure each other. but it came across as a threesome :(

Support writers! Reblog and comment!

******************************

Santi and Javier had been working in total silence for 4 hours.

As soon as Javi had walked in, Santiago looked up from his paperwork with his large eyes attempting to catch Javier’s but to no avail. Javi ignored him, and continued to ignore him most of the day. He felt bad, he really did, and he missed his friend. It was hard sitting across two desks pushed together, and seeing Santiago right there looking so sad was difficult. Santi was fidgety, unfocused, obviously not paying attention to his work. He’d stare at a page for ages, knee bouncing almost in time to his tapping finger. The boy was going to drive him insane.

Noon hit, and Javi went to lunch, walking down the street to a cart to grab a empañanda. Fuck it, some churros too. His doctor said he needed to start watching his sweets, but it’d been a week. He’d burn off some calories with someone tonight. Not wanting to go back to the office during his lunch hour, Javier walked a few blocks to a small park and parked himself under a tree for some shade as he stuffed his face.

Javier tried to pinpoint exactly what had made him so angry at his young coworker. Maybe part of it is the betrayal. Santi went through his things, his contact information and found one of his girls. His. Candy was his. Javier Peña took pride in protecting his girls, whether or not they were his informants. Helena’s attack had scarred him, the image of her beaten and naked body was something that kept him awake at night. He couldn’t let that happen to Candy. Javi had tried to check in on Helena, knowing the DEA had gotten her a visa to the US, but she wanted no contact with him. Maybe it was the fact: if Santi found his contact information for his girls, and that meant that anyone could. What if it had been a drug lord? Lorea knew the DEA was after him next, what if they had found Candy and brutally raped her like Helena, or killed her?

Javier flicked an ant off his arm.

Maybe it was the fact it felt like he didn’t really know Santi. He called him Pope as a nickname, a call to his church going, the way he was nearly a blushing virgin, he always avoided his eye with topics of sex. The young, naive kid he knew was soliciting prostitutes? It was hard to justify the two pictures in his head.

Maybe it was the fact it was Candy. Candy of all people. Candy was special to him, a favorite and someone he enjoyed seeing even outside of sex.

Or maybe it was that fact it was Santi. His partner, his friend, someone he trusted with his very life and liked working with.

He knew both of them, he knew they would connect. He knew they would enjoy each other's company, he knew they’d treat each other well… How could Candy not want someone like Pope? Some as good as Santiago, as kind, as attractive…

Shaking the thoughts away, Peña gathered up his trash, shoved the rest of his churro in his mouth and returned to the pulpit to sit in silence for another 4 hours. Then he saw Santi.

For the first time that day, Javier got a good look at him when he stepped under the arch of the open doorway and watched the boy as he acted, thinking he wasn’t watched.

Santiago was a fucking mess. He had bags under his eyes, his normally well dressed and ironed shirt was wrinkled and it was evident Santi had not shaved since the start of the weekend a few days ago. Santi’s face was always well groomed, a trim, neat mustache surrounded by freshly shaven cheeks and neck showing off his youthful skin; now he looked older. Tired. Worn out. He hadn’t even worn a tie. Nervous ticks were all over him, but what got Javier was that Santi hadn’t moved.

He hadn’t eaten yet.

All his anger at Santiago melted away, and Javier felt sorry for him.

“Haven't you had enough calories today, Peña?” The lady at the food cart said.

Javier rolled his eyes as he paid the money. “It’s not for me.”

She glanced at his stomach; it was not as flat as it used to be, that’s for sure. “Sure.”

As Javier approached the open door of their shared office again, he made sure to squeak his shoes so Santi knew he was coming before he rounded the corner.

Without looking up, Santi muttered his first words of the day. “You’re late. Your lunch is only an hour, you know that right?”

“I took part of yours, since you didn’t go.”

Santi muttered something about actually doing his work, but Javi knew today had been Santi’s least productive day since starting. He tossed the brown paper on Santi's desk, and at first Santi begins to complain about the grease on his paperwork, but then he opens the bag.

“What’s this?”

“Your lunch.”

Santi looked up to him, his endearing youth still evident despite the disheveled appearance. “You brought me lunch?”

Javi tried to wave him off as he sat down. “Don’t worry about it.”

The younger man stared up at him, mouth hesitating as if he wanted to say something, but then stopping, then starting, then stopping, then- “I’m sorry!” The words begin spilling out of him. “I’m sorry I went through your things, I really really am! I just didn’t want someone random and-

He raised a hand to stop him. “Garcia, stop. Listen…” He shook his hand and leaned against his desk. Santi looked up at him, desperate and wide-eyed, mouth parted. “She was right. I can’t control her… or you. It’s none of my business who you see…” Javi clears his throat. “And you are still seeing her?”

Santiago stood up, frantic still. Javier wasn’t into weed, but he thought Santi needed to have a smoke. “I’ll stop! Just say the word and I’ll stop!”

“No, Garcia, I get it. I know how it is with her, she’s special. Candy’s important.”

“Not as important as you!”

Santiago’s sudden admission shocked Javier. What did he mean by that? Did he mean… no, Santi wasn't like that, right? “What are you talking about?”

“I mean…” His excited edge gave way to anxiety. “I just mean, we’re friends, right? Partners. We have a good thing going right now and I don’t wanna ruin it.”

Oh. “I see.” He couldn’t help feel a little disappointed. “Yeah, we do have a good thing going. Let’s just drop it, alright? I doubt Candy will schedule us on the same day again. We can just pretend it didn’t happen.”

Javier was already moving to sit at his desk as Santi eagerly agreed. “Yes! I- uh, I mean, yeah, perfect.”

Javi snickered a bit. They sat in silence for a moment before Javier decided to bring it up just one more time… “Just… be careful, alright? And treat her good?”

“I do.” Santi was quick to assure. “And I’ll be careful.”

The knock on your door made you immediately nervous. No one just showed up, except Señora Perez bringing leftovers for you… when you peaked through the peephole and saw a nervous looking Javi, you sigh. Dumbass. Annoying dumbass. Annoying dumb who fucked really well and was actually super sweet and you enjoyed his company most days…

“I know you’re home, Candy.” Of course he did.

You open the door, immediately crossing your arms and leaning against the door frame. “What do you want? Santi isn’t here.”

“I know.” He assured you, then held out a rolled up, large poster. “I wanted to…” Apologize? Javi didn’t say he was sorry. Wasn’t the type. “I brought you this.” He held out the rolled up paper.

Tentatively, Javier held out his gift, which you took suspiciously. It was the Audrey Heffburn poster he promised you. “Javi… I thought you’d throw it away after how I yelled at you…” You were touched at how he thought of you, bringing you posters of artists he knew you loved to liven up your apartment.

“Never, querida.” He promised. “And I’m sorry for making a scene in your home, in front of your neighbors.”

You smile softly, relaxing a bit. He was so kind, so handsome… “I forgive you, just mind your business next time, comprende?”

“Comprendo, Candy.”

Your body language eased. “You and Santi kiss and make up?”

Javier couldn’t help but smile a bit at that. “Si, minus the kissing.”

“You’ll get there.” You wink, and make enough room in the doorway. “You wanna come in?”

Of course he did. He always did. And you always wanted him to.

Javi spread you open. After he sat you on his lap, you wrapped your legs around him and as he spread his legs, yours went with it. It was tender, the way he touched you, calloused fingers running the length of your body and taking you apart on his fingers. Whiskers tickled your neck as he nudged, fingers entering you. Filling you. Taking you. You were his.

And Santi was yours.

You played with Santi’s body, controlled it the way Javi controlled you. From behind. He liked it between your legs, that much was obvious. His hands, his cock, his face. He belongs there. Earlier today he had sat there, his ass between your naked legs with your back to your bed frame, Santi’s back to yours. He felt so good like this, his body firm and young and supple in your grasp and god, you loved having him. It’s no wonder Javi loved taking you like this, on his lap.

Javi liked you on his lap, liked you open for him. Your whole body. He loved to feel you clench around him, himself fully dressed and while you were completely naked.

It was different with Santi. Both of you lay bare as you jerked him off. It was vulnerable this way, both of you naked and open to each other. Santi was so vulnerable… you wanted to protect his sweet little heart, to take care of him, hear him whimper and whine just as he did now as you tease him.

You wanted Javier to devour you, to take you fully and leave nothing left, you needed to be consumed by him… and consume you he did. Javi’s mouth left nowhere untraced, your shoulders, your back, your neck, it was all sopping wet with his sloppy kisses, long fingers pumping into you.

Your fingers wrapped around Santi’s cock, swiping over the slit dripping with pre-cum in his excitement for you… That excitement excited you in turn, his enthusiasm to be explored and used… and you were grateful for him. You let him know it.

“Pretty boy, being so fucking good for me.”

“Pretty girl, being so fucking good for me.” Javier praised when you don’t cry out at the little nibble he took at your throat as he applied pressure to your clit. He knew just how to tease you, to build you up so high that your crash would be blinding. “Not yet, baby,” He coaxes you.

“Not yet baby,” You coo at Santi, tightening the base of his cock to stop his orgasm. “Can you wait just a little longer please? I want you to cum so hard, Santiago, want you to fucking explode on my hand.”

“Y-yes,” he agrees, breathy and desperate but so, so good. He was your good boy. “I can do it, Candy, I can.”

You felt up his chest, his pecs, his tight and perfect body as you jerk him. “I know you can, Santi.”

“I know you can, Candy.” Javi growls in your ear, stubble scratching at your face. “Give me one more.”

You whine, over sensitive from two orgasms on his mouth, but no less hungry for another, no less desperate for the sweet release on Javier’s fingers.

“S’too much!” Santi’s hips thrust into yours, his body beginning to writhe just as you had in Javi’s.

“It’s okay, baby, you can do it.” You coo at Santi just as Javi coos at you. Then, you both give your command. “Come for me.”

Your orgasm was blinding, clenching down on Javi so hard you weren’t sure how he could move his fingers, cum dripping out of you and onto your shitty plywood floor.

“Oh, good girl,” Javi praises. “Just feeling that pussy cum, I know it must feel so good, doesn’t it?”

“Feel’s so good, doesn’t it?” After half an hour of edging, Santi cums so hard he choked a sob out and you have to keep one arm wrapped around his slim body to keep him steady. Rops of warm cum spill out of him, covering your hand.

Javier licked his fingers clean of your um. Without so much as a care to his own erection in his jeans, he picks you up and carries you to your bed. You’re sleepy… Why were you so sleepy? Javi didn’t need to ask, finding a night dress and pulling in over you on the bed.

“Javi, let me take care of you.” You ask, tiredly. He simply gets a warm cloth to clean you up.

Sliding out from behind Santi, you make sure to place plenty of pillows under him as he relaxes back. You wash off his cock, then get in the blankets with him.

“What about you?” He asks, soft and sweet and so, so sleepy, his fingers going to the band of your pants, but you stop him.

“Sleep, precious boy.”

“Sleep, baby.” Javi kissed your forehead.

“But you didn’t even get off! C’mon, I’ll just hang my head off the bed-” You’re mostly teasing, smiling up at Javier and giggling, but he stops you.

“Rest.” It’s firmer now. “Consider this an apology.”

“Well can my apology also include you cuddling me.”

Javier smiled at that. “If you insist.”

You laid with Santi as he took a short siesta, finishing his time napping in your bed with you around him, your fingers trailing his perfect body, taking inventory of every scar. He sure had a lot of burns on his arms for a career military boy. Maybe he was a cook in high school. Good boy like him would get a part time job… so responsible. You hoped you were able to help him let go of that responsibility, if only for a little. He deserved to be wild sometimes, even if he had a lot to learn.

Javi held you until you fell asleep, remaining fully clothed and fully closed off to you. When you woke, he was gone and to your relief, he didn’t try to pay you, outside of the poster he hung up for you.

It was the first time you two had done anything that wasn’t transactional.

**************************

Thank you all for your patience, I was, WOW I WAS GOING THROUGH IT LMFAO IT WAS BAD. So I appreciate your patience as I get this out. You probably will not see anything from my as far as fics for like 2 weeks until finals are over since I am writing a fuck ton of essays. HMU in two weeks if you wanna learn about Aimee Semple McPherson or the satanic panic bc i gotta write a min 12 pages on EACH.

Anyway, until then, happy holidays! I hope you all have a wonderful and safe season celebrating any of the variety out there, or just enjoying time off, seeing family, or winter activities!

If you are in any of the horrifically dangerous areas in the world right now, know I am praying for you, and I hope you are safe.

Thank you to Fen, to Mona, to Clem, and all the people in the Oscars House Of Whores discord and the Pedro Pals discord for encouraging my insanity with these three!!! I really love the dynamics before Santi Javi and Candy and love writing this story, even if it takes me forever.

Since I like doing polls....

@runa-falls@lunar-ghoulie @campingwiththecharmings @whatthefishh @persephone-girl @criticalarchitecture @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @beelzebeth87 @pimosworld @millerscoffee @heareball @thatwonderouswoman @poolbo @meveispunk @lovable-liar @millllenniawrites @read-and-wip @missdictatorme @the-fox-den @milkymoon2483 @k-ra @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @rosellacwrites @legendary-pink-dot @dreamingofbucky @axshadows @englandsgray @starsthatwatch @fairlyang @alwaysmicado @theywhowriteandknowthings @casa-boiardi @lostfleurs @ninebluehearts @puglover12 @sub-aro @laiisleitte @itspdameronthings @heareball @comfortlessjoy @csarab615 @calaveramangonda @bit-dodgy-innit @stevngrant @nanfafnan @kirsteng42 @mrsjavierp @nanfafnan @lovable-liar @axshadows @cookielovesbook-akie

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hauntedhokage · 8 months

Text

a little patience

PART 01: Stolen Shirt

WORD COUNT: 1.5K

SUMMARY: “That’s my shirt.” He doesn’t look mad, but definitely interested in the fact that you had access to his stuff, and you know that you needed to set the record straight on where you got it.

This was why you spent the night at your own apartment. Not really, but every little moment adds up, right?

[series masterlist] | {ao3} | [tumblr masterlist] | {ko-fi} | [spotify playlist]

The apartment was quiet.

Your boyfriend was sleeping peacefully, worn out from a big villain fight followed by rounds of sex, and you were just watching him sleep. You wanted to wake him up, making him give you some good company while you were at his apartment, but instead you just kiss his forehead before getting out of bed to go make some coffee. You had your own work to get done, anyway, and you had your laptop and charger so there was no reason why you couldn’t get your work done.

His roommate/boyfriend wasn’t home yet, which also contributed to the quiet of the apartment. He was an earlier riser than you were, which was saying something as your schedule had you waking up at around 3 am most mornings. Usually you could hear him grumbling in the morning after you stayed the night, mumbling to himself about work schedules and too many idiots getting themselves into trouble, but you couldn’t hear him so you could only assume that he wasn’t home.

You didn’t stay over often, only when your boyfriend was nursing some kind of injury from his work as a pro hero or it was a guarantee that his boyfriend would be out all night. Sometimes it felt like his boyfriend didn’t like having you around, so you liked to respect the space that they had together in their apartment and just stay at your apartment. If your boyfriend wanted to stay the night, it was in your space 95% of the time.

But you didn’t like to leave when your boyfriend was asleep, knowing that he worried about you disappearing in the night due to his known connection to you, so you were going to have to stick around until he woke up and could see that you were leaving of your own accord and not being kidnapped by a criminal. As if a criminal could get into their super secure apartment.

“Oh, hey,” you hear as you turn into the small kitchen, and you look over your shoulder to see the blonde haphazardly laying on the sofa. Looked to be still in all of his gear, so it had to have been a rougher than usual night on patrol for the number one hero. “Didn’t know you were here.”

“Eiji brought me over after his fight last night, wanted me close or something like that.” You go back to looking at the coffee pot, grateful that the men kept your coffee in plain sight. The way they organized their cabinets still didn’t make sense after almost a year of dating Eijirou, it was easier for them and you to keep the stuff that you liked either just on the countertop (like your coffee and tea of choice) or in the front of the cabinets so you would see them immediately.

“He said something about that. Sleep good?”

“Uh, yeah. Coffee?”

“Coffee is good, thanks.”

You nod, moving about the space to have two mugs ready when it brewed. Bakugou took his coffee black, half a teaspoon of sugar put into the mug before the coffee was poured so the sugar would dissolve faster. It was easy to remember and just as easy to prepare, so it wasn’t long before you’re handing the mug over to the blonde hero who was now sitting up on the couch.

“That’s my shirt.” He doesn’t look mad, but definitely interested in the fact that you had access to his stuff, and you know that you needed to set the record straight on where you got it. You didn’t want him thinking you were going through his stuff or anything like that, that would be so disrespectful. You literally just picked it up, and you hoped he would understand that.

“Sorry, it was on Eiji’s floor so I assumed it was his. I’ll, uh, I’ll wash it before I leave today.” You’re leaving before he could really say anything else, knowing that Bakugou was notorious among the people who knew him for his temper and not wanting to experience his volatility over a tshirt. You don’t see the confused look on his face at how quickly you left, nor do you hear the disappointed sigh that leaves the blonde after the bedroom door shuts behind you. Your concern was removing yourself from the situation before it became a situation.

The fabric is shed as soon as the door is closed, and you’re going back through your boyfriend’s dresser to find a shirt that you knew was his and not belonging to his boyfriend.

“I liked that one on you baby,” Eijirou mumbles, propping himself up on his elbows as he watches you. “Why’d you take it off like it burned you?”

“It’s Bakugou’s, not yours.”

“What’s his is mine, and what’s mine is yours.”

“Did he also agree to that?” It’s a question you ask often, which has Eijirou sighing as he drops back into the bed. This dynamic was unique, and you never wanted to overstep or make Bakugou feel like you were trying to push him out - and you noticed that he did the same for you despite not seeming to like you much. But still, you couldn’t just wear his stuff without his explicit permission, and Eijirou had to understand that as the connecting piece of the puzzle.

Sure, actually talking to Bakugou more and trying to develop some kind of friendship or commonality aside from who you both were dating would help, but he didn’t seem at all interested in getting to know you better so you opted to let him have space. A few of their old classmates had told you that Bakugou was a lot like an angry stray cat; you had to let him come to you and not come on too strong when he did, otherwise he’d back off immediately - which was weird initially but after being around him more it definitely made sense. He liked his space and set his boundaries, you weren’t trying to invade either.

“Actually, since you’re up, I’m gonna head out. I’ve got a lot of work to do and I’m sure Bakugou wants some alone time with you since you stayed with me a lot last week.”

“At least stay and finish your coffee, baby. I’ll take you home after.” He sees how conflicted you are, but smiles when you pick up your coffee mug despite still standing naked in his bedroom. “I’ll find you a shirt that is mine, since I know that’ll make you feel better.”

“Thank you.”

It’s after he comes home from dropping you off that Eijirou seeks out his boyfriend. The blonde is laying in his bed, book on field tactics in hand but those amber eyes are watching the redhead as he approaches slowly before flopping onto the mattress.

“I’ve been asked to unnecessarily apologize again for the shirt mishap this morning.”

“Wasn’t really a mishap, but okay,” Katsuki mumbles, going back to his book only to grunt when Eijirou takes it away.

“You’re not actually mad about it, are you?”

“Stupid thing to be mad about. She picked up a shirt from your floor, thinking it was yours. I didn’t think it was a big deal and if I knew she’d freak out I wouldn’t have said anything at all, since it’s a shirt.”

There’s a pause, the two men looking at each other before Eijirou gives the book back with a sigh.

“Why doesn’t she like me?”

“She doesn’t not like you. She just doesn’t know how to talk to you, since you don’t really talk to her.” The explanation has the blonde nodding, setting his book to the side to allow Eijirou to cuddle closer. “She knows there’s mutual respect, and doesn’t think that you don’t like her. But, she’s afraid of overstepping a boundary with you and doesn’t want you feeling like she’s trying to push you out, so she keeps her distance when I let her.”

“Do I need to say sorry for anything?”

“No, but I think you should try to get to know her better, it’ll help you both.” The suggestion makes Katsuki grunt again, a more thoughtful grunt than the annoyed one from earlier. There was a valid point there, Eijirou’s girlfriend would only feel more comfortable with him if he talked to her more than just greetings in passing and updates on injuries whenever they occurred. Things like shirts picked off the floor wouldn’t feel so big to her if she just…knew him better. A concept. “You guys have a lot in common, and I think you’d be good friends if not more.”

Katsuki elects to ignore the “more” aspect of the statement and only nods, knowing that if the dynamic was going to stay healthy then there needed to be healthy communication between all three parties. She deserved better than to walk on eggshells around him, and he really didn’t want to make this more difficult for them all than it already was, but he wasn’t good at people.

That’s what he got for dating a people-person.

#alp #eijirou kirishima x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #kiribaku/reader #i'll tag better later #i wasnt going to post this until next week but silver needs something to look at when she logs back on :)

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hitlikehammers · 3 months

Text

hitlikehammers' Hobbit-Birthday Fic-Giving Fest

So you know how Hobbits celebrate their birthdays by giving gifts, rather than receiving them?

WELCOME TO MY HOBBIT-STYLE BIRTHDAY FIC-GIVING PROMPT FEST!!!

wherein YOU prompt ME to write stuff, and to clarify from the outset: YOU DO NOT HAVE TO BE FOLLOWING ME TO PARTICIPATE. Did you find this at random? Via reblog? Just kinda want a fic but don’t want my babble regularly on your feed? I. DO. NOT. CARE. This is my birthday month (well, soon) and I want to be giving and gregarious and generous and generally positive about writing little gifts so: prompt anyway.

THE RULES

✨ You have THREE (3) choices for prompting

CONCEPT PROMPTS: basically Ao3 tags, or close enough—pick one, give me a little direction if you don’t want me to just write ~anything~, and then you’re all set SONG PROMPTS: pick a song, ideally also pick a lyric from the song, and if you want to give me some short direction for it go ahead; these are the largely-random choice of Spotify on shuffle; it got kinda moody and angsty on me and picked songs I was never huge into and some from legitimately years ago but: the algorithm prevails DIALOGUE PROMPTS: either inspiration or to be included in the fic, I cannot guarantee either way but if you have a STRONG PREFERENCE, you should point that out; and again, if you want to provide a couple words of direction: do so

✨ if I am already writing you a gift fic for something else: THIS IS DIFFERENT (also shorter so even MORE DIFFERENT)—ask again if you want to, you’re more than welcome, honestly it’s more a gift for me because…hobbity-birthday

✨ you have to MESSAGE/ASK ME or COMMENT ON THIS POST with your prompt because I am going to miss it if you reblog or tag or whatever-other-means-of-telling-me that is not a message/ask/comment, and that would be v sad ✨ I will only be writing ONE FIC PER PROMPT, so if you like one? Grab it. If I haven't had time to edit the list (which is likely because timezones and my work schedule) and they get duplicated, I'll reach out to the second claimer for a new prompt.

✨ if you’re not okay with NSWF content, you need to state that in the prompting message; I’m not saying you’re going get NSFW stuff, but if you’re absolutely against it, gotta flag that in advance

✨ because someone asked: if you want to attach one of these to one of my existing fics/‘verses, include that because that’s usually super fun and there are only maybe two fics I wouldn’t try to follow up with a tiny thing on request

✨ the default ship right now is my most currently active one: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson. If you want to prompt a ship that is not Steddie, note that and check if I’m familiar with it here, or take your chances; I’ll message you if it’s not something I write

SO: pick one of the prompt lists above and send it my way so I can start writing you words.

PROMPTS ARE OPEN THROUGH 31 JANUARY 💜

so...y'know. Prompt me. It's my BIRTHDAY 🎉

also if you hate links have all the prompts, here: below

✨

CONCEPT PROMPTS: pick one, a provide a little direction with 2-3 words, up to a sentence

Merperson/Siren AU

Monsterfucking

Wrong Number/Wrong Blind Date AU

Hurt/Comfort

Baked Goods (as in: prompt me with a pastry you’d like to be eating rn)

Secret Relationship

Royalty AU

Established Relationship

Dark AU

Near-Death Experience

Missed Connection AU

Cocktails (as in: prompt me with how your mixologist knows you)

Misunderstandings

Pre-Season 4

Domestic Fluff

Creaturefic

[Character]-Has-Powers

Vampire AU

PWP

Famous AU

Presumed Dead/Emotional Reunions

Soulmate AU

Whump

First Times

Warm Drinks (as in: prompt me using what you order from your barista)

Magic AU

Fluff

Meet Cute/Ugly

Nightmares

Angels/Demons AU

SONG PROMPTS: pick a song, ideally a lyric FROM the song and a word or two for context of your intended prompting

Never Tear Us Apart—INXS

I Will Wait—Mumford & Sons

Any Other World—MIKA

The Days Of The Phoenix—A.F.I.

Manhattan Skyline—a-ha

Jilted Lovers & Broken Hearts—Brandon Flowers

Why Can’t This Be Love—Van Halen

The Navesink Banks—Gaslight Anthem

Holocene—Bon Iver

Wicked Campaign—Modest Mouse

Follow—Brandi Carlile

Jesus Christ—Brand New

Little Talks—Of Monsters and Men

Clever Meals—Tegan and Sara

Will Anybody Ever Love Me?—Sufjan Stevens

A Light On In The Dark—Darlingside

To Build A Home—The Cinematic Orchestra

sever the blight—hemlocke springs

These Things—She Wants Revenge

The Light Behind Your Eyes—My Chemical Romance

Come Undone—Duran Duran

Song For Zula—Phosphorescent

Last Words of a Shooting Star—Mitski

This Must Be The Place (Naive Melody)—Talking Heads

Majesty—Madrugada

Fake Empire—The National

A Dustland Fairytale—The Killers

Fast Car—Tracy Chapman

At The Bottom Of Everything—Bright Eyes

The Trapeze Swinger—Iron & Wine

QUOTE PROMPTS: pick one, and if you have a context, I’ll take up to 3 words as direction

“That’s… not what that means.”

”They say when you meet the love of your life, time stops, and that's true.”

“…Why?”

“Now, I’m not going to deny that I was aware of your beauty. But the point is, this has nothing to do with your beauty. As I got to know you, I began to realise that beauty was the least of your qualities. I became fascinated by your goodness. I was drawn in by it.”

“I’ve never felt this way before.”

”So it's not gonna be easy. It's gonna be really hard, and we're gonna have to work at this every day."

“What are you doing?”

“I cannot let you burn me up, nor can I resist you. No mere human can stand in a fire and not be consumed.”

“I assume I deserve this, but can you tell me why you want to kill me this time?”

”We aren't here to make things perfect."

“You meant the world to me. I should have protected you.”

"You're the first boy I ever kissed... and I want you to be the last."

“What? Like it’s hard?”

“Every atom of your flesh is as dear to me as my own: in pain and sickness it would still be dear.”

“Who did this to you?”

“I want to tell you with my remaining strength that I love you. I always have. I'll drift next to you every day as a ghost just to be with you. Even if I was banished to the darkest place, my love will keep me from being a lonely spirit."

“You here to finish me off, sweetheart?”

”When I first saw you, I felt like I knew you, and I couldn't stop seeing my life with you, and building a family together. One that isn't stuck in the pain of the past. It's very pretty."

“You’re worth so much more than me.”

“I’ve never had a moment’s doubt. I love you. I believe in you completely. You are my dearest one.”

“This isn’t going to end well.”

"Truth is, sometimes I miss you so much I can hardly stand it."

“Please! You have to let me make this right.”

“Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.”

“You’re a monster.”

“You and I, it’s as though we have been taught to kiss in heaven and sent down to earth together, to see if we know what we were taught.”

“You don’t want this.”

“You have bewitched me, body and soul, and I love--I love--I love you. I never wish to be parted from you from this day on.”

“Why did you lie?”

”I don't want to sound foolish, but remember love is what brought you here. And if you've trusted love this far, don't panic now. Trust it all the way."

#hitlikehammers v words #hitlikehammers writes #hitlikehammers' hobbit-birthday prompt fest

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