#the life of an ao3 author is a chaotic one
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First Light
AO3 | Masterlist
Summary: Vetrnætr (Winter Nights) is a time to welcome winter and honor the gods of old. But, on the first morning of festivities, the only thing Loki wants to celebrate is you.
Pairing: Prince!Loki x Female Reader
Word count: 2.4k
Tags/Content: Fluff, Praise, Smut (Fingering, Cunnilingus, Multiple Orgasms), Established Relationship, Pre-Thor (2011), Asgard AU
Rating: Explicit; 18+
Author’s note: A belated birthday gift to my amazing friend @loki-cees-all. You are the Goddess of Patience and Mercy and I appreciate you so very much! I hope this one lives up the hype. xx
It was easy to dismiss quiet mornings on Asgard in favor of boundless nights under the stars. But you never felt more content than when the first rays of daylight bathed the kingdom in a hazy glow. Beyond frost-kissed windows, the wind whispered a tale of winter’s early arrival, and you burrowed further under the protective arm curled around your shoulders.
Waking before Loki was a rare occurrence, and you offered up a prayer of gratitude to the Norns when you realized your lover was still slumbering beside you.
He was a being of little sleep, often arguing those bestowed with divinity had more stamina than the average Æsir, therefore requiring less rest. You disagreed.
Well, somewhat disagreed.
You pulled your lip between your teeth as you observed evidence of the prior evening’s chaotic activities: clothing and armor were strewn about the room, pillows and pelts haphazardly adorned the hearthside, and papers from Loki’s desk littered the floor, his bookshelves standing slightly askew. Even the bedposts seemed to be off-kilter.
Loki absolutely had the stamina of a god.
Still, he hadn’t been getting enough sleep lately. The past few weeks preparing for Vetrnætr had taken a toll on him. Loki had been responsible for coordinating the arrival of visiting dignitaries and nobility while also leading what he’d described to you as “lighthearted diplomatic discussions” with the royal council of Vanaheim. Queen Frigga, however, had confided that he was single-handedly responsible for not only fortifying Asgard’s long-held alliance between the Vanir and Æsir but also negotiating a new trade agreement between the neighboring realms.
You carefully tilted your face upward, committing the splendor of him in this moment to memory. Swathes of amber light illuminated the rise and fall of his chest, mapping the gentle exhales through parted lips that assured you he was alive. That he was real. That he was yours.
Your family and fellow courtiers had thought you mad when you turned down the advances of several of the Allfather’s golden warriors. But it was when you refused Thor that you’d stirred up any true semblance of trouble. Then again, the elder Odinson had attempted to court at least half the eligible maidens of Asgard, so it wasn’t that scandalous.
What everyone didn’t know then was that your heart secretly belonged to another. And even now, years later, it was hard to comprehend that he returned your affections. But he did, and he made sure you’d never have reason to doubt him.
For so long, he had existed in the shadows of those around him. Only a sacred few saw his light shining through. And once he’d revealed the whole of himself to you, how could anyone else possibly compare?
True, he could be unpredictable and disruptive, but Loki approached everything in life with an unwavering sense of humble dedication. His fidelity was one of the things you loved most about him.
“My beautiful miracle.”
You’d only meant to think it—but hearing the whisper of affection fall from your lips seemed the perfect way to commence the day. Tracing patterns across the exposed skin of Loki’s abdomen, you studied the contours of his handsome face. Long lashes fluttered against high cheekbones as his eyes darted back and forth behind closed lids.
“What is it you dream of?” you whispered, gently placing a kiss on his sternum.
“A prince dreams of many things.”
His reply caused your heart to stutter within your chest. The trickster had been awake all along, basking in the warmth of your sentimentality like a cat soaking up the sun.
“I should’ve known you were only pretending to be asleep,” you pouted as he finally cracked open his eyes to peer down at you.
“Mmm, you should have,” he said as he wrapped his hand around yours, bringing it to his lips and tenderly pressing his lips to your fingertips. “But, I did have the most interesting dream. It’s worth hearing, I assure you.”
Loki was nothing if not convincing, and you were curious.
“Go on then. I’m listening,” you replied with a playful roll of your eyes.
Loki cleared his throat as he fluffed the pillow under his head. Stars above. He was as dramatic as he was mischievous.
“It was the final night of Vetrnætr and the kingdom was blanketed in snow. I was tasked with riding into the forests alone,” he said, absentmindedly trailing his fingertips down your arm as he spoke, “to defeat a great beast with my magick.”
His voice was impossibly alluring, much like Loki himself. Soon, you were clinging to every word—mesmerized by the magnificent man beside you.
“I found myself in the depths of wilderness—where no other soul had dared to tread before. I, of course, was quite brave in the face of this unknown danger.”
“Fearless, some might say,” you offered.
He hummed in agreement, his eyes sparking with amusement. “Finally, I reached my destination. But a horde of Bilgesnipes was blocking the creature I’d come to slay.”
“Oh?” you said apprehensively. He solemnly nodded.
“So, I conjured a simple spell to vanquish them. Imagine my surprise when I realized they were not, in fact, angry Bilgesnipes but your dreadful snores plundering into my subconscious mind.”
Your brain stuttered—did he just? Bilgesnipes?! Loki smirked at the utterly bewildered expression on your face before mimicking the way you opened your mouth in shock. You’d walked right into his little trap and he was enjoying it far too much.
“Loki Odinson! I do not snore.”
You sounded less defiant than you hoped, and—in a bid to get him to renege the obvious lie—you wriggled out from under his arm and tossed a pillow at his stupid, handsome face.
“I beg to differ.” Deep, mirthful laughter rumbled in Loki’s chest. “Now, wait a minute—”
Much to his dismay, you’d moved to the edge of the bed. As you gathered one of the fur blankets around your nude form, Loki propped himself up on his elbows, those stark green eyes focusing on you with an intensity that didn’t seem justified this early in the day.
“Darling, don’t go. I was only teasing.” He grabbed your wrist, and the coolness of his fingers against your flesh sent a thrill rippling through you. “Allow me to make it up to you.”
The offer was tempting but, with Vetrnætr on the literal horizon, you had a never-ending list of obligations to attend to.
“You know we’re both expected at the first morning feast.”
“Yes, and that is still hours from now. Come back to bed.”
“It will take me hours to get ready for the celebrations.”
Loki clicked his tongue as you shimmied off the bed. “What a shame you don’t have a skillful sorcerer at your disposal.”
“Such misfortune,” you quipped, fingers reaching to secure the fur around your shoulders. A curse left your lips as nothing but cold air enveloped you instead. Loki shot you a wink as a wisp of seiðr danced across his palm.
“You’re not playing fair.”
“Where there are wolf’s ears, wolf’s teeth are near.” Dimples adorned the corners of his mouth as he grinned up at you.
“And now you’re not making any sense!”
“So come back to bed, little fox. Please. Help me make sense of things.”
Three thoughts inhabited your mind in this moment: a persistent chill was quickly settling in your bones and Loki’s bed was impossibly warm; applying the ceremonial makeup you were expected to wear today would take at least an hour—and having Loki glamour it on would be terribly convenient; and, finally, you were absolute shit at denying him anything. And Loki knew it.
He stretched his long legs as he awaited your submission. The action caused the silk sheets to settle low around his waist. Shadows traversed the deep V of his Adonis belt like divine brushstrokes while sunbeams highlighted the devastating muscles of his godly physique.
You never stood a chance.
Your pulse quickened as you propped a knee on the mattress, giving him a coy smile. “Satisfied, your highness?”
Loki inhaled as he surveyed your figure. It was easy to assume he was memorizing the smooth curves and soft dips of your body. Every imperfection, dimple, scar—he’d studied and worshiped each precious part of you. But in truth, he knew the map of your body better than he knew the wilds of Asgard—how to expertly navigate your release, to intimately claim you as his time and time again.
“Not quite.” His eyes glinted with desire as he curled his hands around your waist, guiding you to settle against the pillows. You watched in awe as he pulled the sheets over the both of you, adjusting the layers of covers and pelts as he caged you in his arms.
“Perfect.” It was no more than a whisper. But the sense of pride that thrummed through you must have been palpable, because Loki leaned down and brushed his mouth against yours. You barely had time to inhale before his tongue was swiping over your bottom lip and then moving against your own in eager, equal measure. He was heavy on top of you as he settled between your open legs—your collective arousal evident as your bodies seamlessly slotted together. It was exhilarating and grounding and you ached for him. When you dug your fingertips into the firm swell of his ass in a silent plea for more, he broke the kiss.
“What is it, my love?” you asked, noticing a glimmer of tears swelling in his eyes as he pulled away from you. You cupped his cheek, and his gaze flitted across your face.
“What did I do to deserve you?” Loki took in a deep, shuddering breath before kissing you once more. Sparks of white-hot heat ignited your skin as your heart hammered in your chest. Could he sense how wildly it was beating for him? “I’m so proud of you. You know that, right?”
How could words ever truly express that the love you possessed defied explanation, transcended comprehension, and overwhelmed every fiber of your being? How could you adequately convey that his praise was your Valhalla?
You finally managed to say, “I know,” but your response melded into a moan as Loki’s lips made contact with your nipple, rolling its twin between his thumb and forefinger.
“You’re so good to me.”
“So good,” you echoed, arching into his touch as Loki’s hand skimmed your curves before dipping between your legs.
He found you slick and ready for him, and he easily slid two fingers into your cunt, his palm pushing upwards against your swollen clit. Delicious pressure built in your hips with each skillful turn of his wrist and you greedily bucked into his hand, grasping at his biceps for leverage.
You were quickly losing yourself to the adrenaline searing through you, igniting every nerve ending like a thousand meteors shooting across the night sky. Still, you knew Loki revelled in the euphoria of your unraveling just as much as you did. He yearned to hear your small whimpers of pleasure, to feel your hands on his body and your fingers twisting in his hair as you came undone at his touch. To be connected without reservation.
He’d once confided in you that the reassurance of your touch sparked something within him comparable only to his seiðr—you had become just as much a part of him as the ancestral magick that flowed through his very veins. Imagining a reality without either was like envisioning a world without sunlight or stars.
“Loki. Loki.” His name was witchcraft on your lips and his fingers deftly twisted inside you in response. When he slowed his movements, you clenched around him, desperately running your hands over the broad expanse of his shoulders. His skin was damp with sweat, his muscles quivering under your fingertips.
“And so eager. Gods, you’re gorgeous when you’re about to come apart.”
When Loki was nestled between your thighs, worshiping your body as if you were the only thing in all the Nine, time stood still. You were teetering on the edge of sweet release—right where he wanted you. A frustrated noise caught in the back of your throat as he removed his fingers, your thighs trembling as your climax began to ebb.
“Patience.” He spoke purposefully against your heated skin, as if reciting an invocation.
“Til árs ok friðar.” Loki paused, looking up at you with eyes so full of adoration you felt as though your heart would burst. He repeated the ancient phrase. “For a good year. And peace. That is my wish for you—for us—my love.”
You were completely lost under his spell. Your only tether to reality was Loki. His forearm heavy across your midriff. His tongue flat against your clit.
“F-faen, I’m– please,” you slurred, your chest heaving with ragged, uneven pants.
“That’s it,” Loki coaxed. “Come undone for me.”
At his words, the overwhelming tightness in your core snapped. Your orgasm ripped through your body—your mind clearing itself of every lingering thought. The wild beat of your heart became the soundtrack of your bliss and you sobbed as the tip of his regal nose rubbed against your sensitive clit. His tongue continued to lap at the warm center of your cunt as aftershocks rolled through you, your body involuntary jerking at the overstimulation.
“Too much…”
“One more, darling. If not for me, for Asgard.” A wicked grin spread across his face—his lips and chin glistening with your arousal—before he dipped his head back between your thighs. “Consider it a royal decree.”
It was pointless to argue with him, especially when he set his mind to something. You wound your fingers into his unkempt hair, and before long, you were curling up off the bed as you juddered under his touch for the second time.
“Thank you,” you said softly as you came down from your high. Loki pressed his forehead to yours.
“A final gesture of goodwill,” he murmured, the blunt tip of his cock nudging your entrance.
“We’ll be late to breakfast. I- I dare not disgrace your good name, my prince,” you said, gasping into his mouth as he pushed deeper inside you. You didn’t care if you missed every single celebratory banquet this week.
“I’m honored you think so highly of me, little wife.” You groaned in unison as he bottomed out with a swirl of his hips. “But it would not be the first time we’ve vexed the House of Odin thus. Nor the last, I hope.”
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Ghosting
Mike Schmidt x Fem!Reader
Summary:
Mike has been in love with you for as long as he can remember. For about as long as the two of you have been best friends. He always thought he would have more time to work up to confessing those big, dangerous feelings for you - until something more dangerous swooped in and stole any time he had left with you.
Mike Schmidt x Fem!Reader. Star-Crossed Lovers. Pure Angst. Set during the events of the movie (and features spoilers for the plot).
Word Count: 3,700
Horror Characters Masterlist | AO3 Link
Full list of warnings and author's notes below the cut.
Warnings: this fic contains major spoilers for the film - so if you haven't watched it yet and you're just here for Josh Hutcherson being sad and beautiful (and if you want to watch the film unspoiled) be warned; this fic does use Y/N; this fic is almost pure angst - the beginning is fluffy, but that only exists to make the angst hurt more; this fic does not have a happy ending; hurt, no comfort; this fic has mentions of Mike's past traumas and him having symptoms of PTSD; the reader is a mother figure to Abby; Mike refers to the reader as his 'wife' (in his mind, not in dialogue); Mike is in love with the reader (and it's implied that she knows this/can sense his feelings) but he doesn't get a chance to actually confess to her and they aren't in a romantic relationship at any point during this fic; (uh, kind of spoiler for the fic but this was in the prompt/request) - major character death: the reader character dies after being stabbed by Springtrap/William Afton/The Yellow Rabbit (gotta love fnaf - when a character has that many names); mentions of blood; descriptions of violence - descriptions of the fight between Afton and Mike, descriptions of the reader being stabbed by Afton; Abby is there to witness the reader's death; idk what the other warnings are aside from major angst - this will be an emotional gut punch. Anyway, please enjoy it lmao.
A/N: The title of this fic comes from the song Ghosting by Mother Mother. I was listening to different songs trying to pick a title, and I really like how this one fits. How their romantic love was like a ghost in their lives - not discussed, but felt between the both of them, and after she's gone, she becomes a ghost in his life.
...
Mike woke up to the smell of pancakes.
Typically, mornings were his least favorite time of day. Seeing as he was the kind of person who didn’t sleep well, didn’t sleep at all, or found himself consumed by nightmares when he did - most mornings, he was too tired to comprehend the world around him. Mornings were a chaotic mess for him as he tried to pull himself back from the brink of insanity while operating his sluggish body with far too little energy until he got some coffee into his system. He came to resent mornings, as for him, they existed only in a dreadful haze.
And he rarely ate a proper breakfast because of it. Most of the time, his ‘breakfast’ consisted of a large cup of coffee and a few pieces of Eggo waffle that he would snag off of Abby’s plate going out the door as he scolded her for not finishing it all.
The second that the pleasant smell of freshly cooked food reached his nose, his stomach growled.
Through the sleepy fog of his brain, hearing voices - multiple voices - coming from down the hallway, he realized that it wasn’t just Abby and some muffled cartoon characters from the TV.
“Which one?” Abby posed, her voice bright and curious as ever.
“Personally… I like the red sweater. It matches the red laces in the shoes you picked,” You replied, raising your voice slightly to be heard over the sizzling of the pan.
You were helping her pick out her clothes. Abby would have never wanted Mike’s help on the subject. So often she scoffed at him if he suggested that he could help her put her hair in a ponytail or if he told her that she should put on a jacket if it was cold outside. But she asked you for your advice about clothes because she admired you. She thought you were pretty, as she had told Mike on multiple occasions (not so subtly hinting that he should date you).
Mike heard footsteps thundering down the hallway as Abby rushed to her room to get dressed, likely carting along the clothes you had helped to pick. He distantly wondered how you had gotten into the house before he was even awake.
And then, he remembered - a few weeks ago, he had given you a key to his place.
It was something that had come after he had accidentally locked his own set of keys in the car, his mind jumbled and forgetful after not having much sleep the night before. And with the evening ticking on and the takeout you had picked up for the three of you quickly getting cold in your hands (everyone eager to simply get into the house and eat) - Mike had been hit with the realization that any solutions to unlock the car - the spare key, a metal coat hanger, a phone to call a mechanic - were all locked in the house.
So he had hoisted Abby in through her bedroom window (after scolding her for not locking it) and gotten her to unlock the front door. And shortly after that, he had given you a house key, because generally, you were better with things like that.
You were much more organized - your mind a clear, calm palace compared to the chaos that Mike often found himself swamped in. You were someone who worked incredibly well under stress, and that was why Mike valued you so much in his life. Right from a childhood where the two of you had pulled pranks together and he had been copying your homework, to the time he had leaned on you during the initial stress of Garett’s disappearance - up until now. When he was a messy, disorganized adult who still needed you far more than he was ever willing to admit.
It was just one of the many reasons he admired you so much. You took care of him in ways he couldn’t even put into words.
He smiled to himself as he heard more of your chatter with Abby. Previously, he had remarked that the key was for ‘emergencies only’ - but he couldn’t bring himself to care all too much about the breach of that rule as he tumbled out of bed. Especially when the smell of bacon also reached his nose as he walked to the bathroom.
It was when he was pulling on his pants that he glanced at the clock and realized he was already running on the late side. Not too late yet, but he had to put some urgency in his step. He had somehow forgotten to set his alarm, today of all days, when he would be meeting with a career counselor after the disastrous incident that got him fired from the mall.
He rushed down the hallway struggling with his tie, bringing his usual air of chaos with him. His heart instantly warmed at the sight of you and Abby - you had her sitting at the table, somehow so much more polite and cooperative for you, with a glass of juice beside her plate while you scooped freshly made pancakes onto it.
“You know, usually when most people break and enter, they don’t make breakfast,” Mike commented, his voice cool and jovial as he grew increasingly frustrated with his tie.
He thought he was forming the knot correctly, but it kept falling loose in his hands, causing a deep crease across his brows as he frowned at the fabric.
You giggled at this - both at his words and at his obvious struggle. You put the pan on the counter as you walked toward him, leaving Abby to pick up the bottle of syrup and begin thoroughly drowning her pancakes while you weren’t looking. You knocked Mike’s hands away in that wordless kind of care and began calmly tying his tie.
“Well, I considered going the traditional route, but there’s nothing worth stealing here.” You remarked, playing off the banter that was only built between the two of you after years of friendship. “Plus, The Breakfast Burglar has such a nice ring to it.”
“That makes it sound like you steal people’s breakfast.” Abby giggled.
“I would, if certain little girls didn’t drown their pancakes in syrup.” You replied, not bothering to look over your shoulder at her to know what she was doing. “That’s enough, Abs.”
She rolled her eyes harshly at this, but put the bottle of syrup down and picked up her knife and fork.
Mike grinned widely at this. You were more like a mom to her than their own mother ever was. And the fact that you knew her so well and took care of her without question always brought him joy.
His smile only widened when you smoothed a warm hand down the front of his chest, and he looked down to see a perfectly neat knot in the front of his tie. He felt a tingling swarm of butterflies in his stomach at your touch - something that threatened to spread through him and turn him into a dizzy, lovesick fool. Urgently, he needed to distract himself with something else.
His eyes shifted over to the side table, and he realized that his keys weren’t where he usually threw them down when he got home.
“Have you seen my-?”
Once again, you were two steps ahead of him. More organized than him.
“Keys.” You said, turning around to the counter and holding the key ring up on your fingers. “Your resume, formatted and printed.” You held up a folder that contained this as well. “Your wallet, and breakfast burrito.”
You gathered up his wallet and a warm bundle wrapped in tinfoil - his breakfast. The small notion of caring, the fact that you thought ahead to make something he could eat while rushing out the door - it caused that dangerous tingle to overtake his stomach once again. As you crossed the room and placed all the items in his hands, he had the intense urge to lean over and kiss you - he knew the domesticity was crippling.
You had been his best friend for years, you had helped him take care of Abby for as long as the little girl could remember. You felt more like a wife to him than anybody else ever would.
And yet, you had absolutely no clue how he felt about you. It would have felt like the most natural thing in the world for him to lean over and kiss you goodbye before leaving - just like a husband would do with his wife. But the two of you weren’t married. You weren’t even dating. You took care of him because you were his best friend. Because you had always taken care of him the way a best friend should.
“What would I do without you?” He said, knowing that the pure fondness in his voice could have easily given him away - if he didn’t talk to you like that all the time.
“Hmm… probably run around naked and starving,” You chuckled, shrugging as you walked back over to Abby and sat down beside her at the table. “Now get going. I’ll take Abby to school.”
“Have a good day, Abs.” Mike said, wishing his sister well - only to receive a mindless nod in reply before she went back to chatting with you about something, excitedly telling you a story involving one of her imaginary friends while you watched her with absolutely rapt attention.
He moved toward the door, but he found himself caught up in the sight of you. You were a hero in their little world as you rushed to save one of Abby’s drawings from some syrup that dripped off her plate. When you complimented the picture, she glowed with a smile he hadn’t seen in days.
That was a huge part of it, too. The love he felt for you that grew more agonizing each day. You brought out all the best parts of Abby, as well as keeping Mike himself from going truly insane.
For a single moment, he wondered if he should tell you. He wondered if he should just blurt out the words before running out the door, leaving you to simmer in it. Giving you time to think about it - to yell at him about it later.
It hovered on his tongue.
I love you. I’ve been in love with you for years.
But when you looked over and saw him still standing by the door, he locked eyes with you, and suddenly it was gone again, swallowed up inside of him like a nasty ache that would live there forever.
“Go, Mike! You’re gonna be late!” You said, your voice edging with casual laughter.
You picked up one of the couch cushions and swatted him with it as you walked by to get Abby a paper towel from the kitchen.
No. He would tell you some other time.
Perhaps he wouldn’t work up the courage to tell you at all.
…
He was going to die. He was going to be killed.
And he wasn’t going to get the chance to tell you that he was in love with you.
Strangely enough, that was the one thing Mike was thinking about as he laid on the cold, dirty floor of Freddy Fazbear’s condemned pizzeria. His stomach burned with searing pain as he received another kick from the large, intimidating monster that he knew only as the Yellow Rabbit.
He was going to die. He wouldn’t get to tell you how he felt. He would never get to see you ever again.
He was going to save Abby. He was going to make sure that she got out of here, escaped somehow. And you would take care of her. That thought was a singular comfort to him as he felt one of his ribs crack from the metal (poorly disguised by the foam and fabric around the edges of the suit) colliding with his torso.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” The Rabbit mocked him. “I killed your brother, now I get to kill you. Symmetry, my friend!”
“Get away from him!”
Mike almost thought that the intense pain had caused him to hallucinate, or that he had hit his head on the floor hard when he had been thrown down - it couldn’t actually be you.
But he heard your voice, fierce and fiery as ever, defending him as you had so many times before. He struggled to get his head up to look, but he caught a glimpse of the Yellow Rabbit as the strange animal collapsed.
You had picked up one of the chairs, and brought it down over the Rabbit’s head, perfectly imitating something that would have been on Monday Night Raw. Except this was pure wood, not a collapsing chair, and all the pieces that splintered and fell in front of Mike as the Rabbit collapsed were because of the pure force of your hit. The fury of which you defended him and his life.
“Y/N!” Abby yelled your name from across the room.
She rushed into your arms as you stepped over the Rabbit’s prone body, and you swept her into a tight hug.
“Are you okay? Are you hurt? What’s going on?” You rushed to ask, brushing her hair out of her face to inspect for any injuries.
“I’m fine.” Abby told you. “Mike-” She then turned to her brother, frantic, and pulled away from you to fall to her knees by his side.
“Mike, what the hell is going on?” You asked, on your knees at his side just as quickly.
You turned him over on his back, inspecting him for injuries now - definitely not liking what you found.
Abby held his hand and he grasped it right back, his head still dizzy from the thorough ass-kicking he had just experienced.
You gasped when you saw blood leaking through his shirt. He grunted in pain when you pressed your hand into the wound, clearly trying to lessen that bleeding.
“What - what are you doing here?” He croaked out.
As much as he was thankful for you swooping in and saving him, he wished that you were safe somewhere else. Anywhere but here.
“Abby left her jacket in my car, and when I went to return it, I saw your Aunt Jane passed out on the floor, and - and, I just had a bad feeling.” You rushed to explain. “Somehow, I figured you’d be here.”
Mike hadn’t exactly told you the details of what was going on.
As close as the two of you were, he wasn’t sure if you would be entirely receptive to the concept of Abby being ‘friends’ with robots that were controlled by ghost children, and Mike somehow feeling connected to his own missing… dead brother by being in this place. He had simply told you that his new job was a night shift at a creepy old abandoned pizza place.
But of course, you were two steps ahead of him. As always.
You pulled back your hand to inspect the bleeding, and Mike groaned again.
“Should I call an ambulance?” You asked, and Mike shook his head furiously.
“No, we have to-”
We have to leave. You have to leave. You have to get Abby out of here, to safety.
All of those words dissolved on his tongue as he watched with utter shock. He wanted to scream as a big yellow hand clasped onto your shoulder from behind, and soon, a pair of large rabbit ears rose up from the floor.
He wasn’t down for the count.
Before he could speak, before he could move, Mike’s throat became choked as he saw your expression shift from the kind concern that you had worn for him many times - to pain. A brutal shock of your own.
The Rabbit had shoved his knife into your back.
A bright pool of red began to form in the middle of your shirt as the tip of the knife just barely poked through the center of your chest.
“No!” Mike shouted, rushing to sit up despite the pain screaming in his body.
He put a shaking hand to the middle of your chest as though it mattered, as though he could save you from this. He hated how warm your blood felt underneath his fingers.
Abby let out a scream beside him. Distantly, in the back of his mind, he felt a pang of guilt that she had to see this. That she would spend the rest of her life trying to get over this.
“It hurts, doesn’t it?” The Rabbit mocked him. “It always hurts more when you love them!”
The Rabbit let out a brutal laugh and then yanked his knife from your back, and you released a sharp breath as the Rabbit shoved you toward Mike, causing you to collapse into his lap in a bloody heap.
Somewhere far away, in another world, Mike heard Vanessa shouting from the doorway. Maybe he felt some sense of relief, thinking she would shoot the Rabbit down and this would all be over. But as the Rabbit’s attention was drawn away from him, he turned to where you were draped across his lap, the small pool of red on your shirt now soaked into a large puddle as you sputtered and some of that harsh bright red blood came out the corner of your lips.
“Mike-” You choked out, reaching for him.
“Tell me what to do,” Mike choked out.
His mind was miserably blank. He felt your fingers clutching at his bicep, like he held the key to saving you, like he could restore your life - but his mind was screaming and his chest collapsed in on itself.
You were always the one that guided him. He didn’t have an idea if you didn’t plant it in his head first.
“Y/N,” Abby sobbed.
“It-it’s okay.” You told her, struggling, gurgling, choking on your own blood. You took your grip off Mike, extending the hand weakly to her, and she took it. “It’s g-gonna be okay.”
She let out another harsh sob, and Mike felt his lungs fill with stone.
“Tell me what to do,” He said desperately, not realizing how thick his own voice was, how close he was to breaking down. He ran a trembling hand over your face, brushing away some stray hairs - he hated how cold you felt to his touch. “Please, tell me what to do.”
He thought you might suggest some first aid. An ambulance. Tell him where your car was so he could carry you there, cart you away, get you to safety.
“You-re g-gonna take c-care of her-r.” You told him, shifting your eyes distinctly from him toward Abby, giving her hand a squeeze. “You’re gon-na m-make it ok-ay.”
“Y/N.” Abby cried, thick tears spilling down her cheeks.
“Abby. You’re gonna b-be s-strong.” You grinned at her - your teeth were covered in blood, and it looked as menacing as it did fond. “You’re g-gonna be good for-r M-Mike, right? My little a-artist.”
Abby nodded, more tears leaking from her eyes.
And then, with some gears turning in her head, these words seemingly having triggered some line of thought, she looked up and spotted something across the room. She muttered something about the drawings and leapt up before Mike could stop her. He didn’t have the strength to chase her - he only hoped that she was leaving, escaping while the others were distracted.
When he looked back down at you, your face was falling more limp, and your shirt was somehow even more soaked in blood. His jeans were wet, and he couldn’t even process why. He pressed a hand to the front of your shirt, trying to cover the wound as you had done with him - his muscles shook even harder when blood gushed out between his fingers and seemed to leak from you harder, as if to spite him.
“Y/N,” He sobbed, leaning down. He cradled the back of your head and touched your forehead against his own.
For a moment, he dreamed about putting his lips against your own and bringing you back to life with a kiss. Like some stupid fairytale.
“Y/N, I-”
I love you.
“I - I know.” You croaked quietly, cutting him off. “D-don’t w-waste it on me now-w.”
He felt the puff of your last breath as it expelled out against his cheek - he felt you go completely limp in his arms.
“No-” He choked the word off in his throat, swallowing down sobs.
No.
He held you tighter against him, and feeling how cold you were, he let out a shuddering howl of a sob. He clasped your lifeless body against his chest - somehow believing that he could use the power of his grief to inject more life back into you.
The rest of it was a blur. The deadly snap of springlocks, Vanessa shouting at him to abandon you - to abandon your body as the building collapsed in on itself.
Mike didn’t truly break down until he was scrubbing his blood off your face in the bathroom sink that night. Seeing the red washing down the drain and knowing that it was the last traces of your life he was washing away - that was what truly did it. He collapsed onto the floor and stayed there for hours, sobbing more than he breathed, unable to move.
When his cries finally died down, Abby slowly crept in and asked him how he was feeling. He lied, telling her that he was feeling fine. She raised up a shy hand, offering him one of your sweaters that you had accidentally left on their couch a few days prior.
He thanked her and then finally peeled himself off the floor. He tried to make pancakes and Abby remarked that they weren’t as good as yours. It felt impossible, but her words made him smile. It was a small, dull smile - but it was a smile, nonetheless.
A few days later, when he finally fell asleep for the first time after you had died in his arms, it was with that sweater wrapped around his pillow, wafting your faded smell into his nostrils. It was the first time in years that he didn’t dream about Garett. The dream he had about you was just as haunting.
...
A/N: Also, I don't know if Afton's knife would actually be long enough to go through someone's back and pierce out the front of their chest but - one, it's a cool imagery, and two, the knife looks pretty large when compared to the scale of the Springtrap suit hands. Anyway, I don't actually care all too much if it's accurate or not, I had fun writing this lmao.
#sundrop writes#mike schmidt#mike schmidt x reader#mike schmidt x you#mike schmidt x y/n#blood tw#fnaf#five nights at freddy's#fnaf movie fanfiction
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Midnight Prayer | One Shot
Pairing: Astarion x Dark Urge / Tiny bit of Enver Gortash x Dark Urge
Chapter Count: One Shot | Read on AO3
Word Count: 4,016
Summary: Takes place during the events of Baldur's Gate 3 after Gortash's coronation in Act 3. Explores the romance between Astarion and the Dark Urge after the implications of a past relationship between the Dark Urge and Enver Gortash are made known.
Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Fluff, Humor, Idiots in Love, Mentions of Violence, Soft Astarion, Spoilers for the Dark Urge and BG3 in general, Dark Urge as Original Female Character
Rating: Mature
Author Note: Those new lines in Patch 6 between Durge and Gortash are to blame for this. Plus the fact that I adore the Astarion x Dark Urge dynamic because they're on the same level, meaning they're both barely functioning beings who no business getting into a relationship and yet they make it work. Also, Astarion gets to be the supportive one when Durge goes off the rails.
All these idiots live rent free in my head and I had this scene that just wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote it out. This is a one-shot based on the same Durge MC, Eli, as my other ongoing fic - which I have not updated in some time, and I am sorry for that. Have some brainrot to make up for it! This is grade-A mushy, soft garbage.
Sleep was difficult to find as Eli lay on the stiff makeshift cot. Her glassy half-focused eyes were fixed on the patchwork ceiling of Astarion’s tent as her mind coiled around and around, like a snake trying to suffocate itself. Her thoughts were circular, aimless and chaotic as she chased the ghosts of memories that always haunted her nights.
Sleeplessness was nothing new, and Eli’s propensity for restlessness and nightmares was well known throughout camp. She had a tendency to toss and turn as rest evaded her, and when the darkness of slumber finally overtook her in the small hours of mornings it was never peaceful. She was often agitated and unsettled, mumbling low to herself until the shock of some cruel fever dream sent her into an outburst of screams as she flailed and fought to rouse herself from whatever terror had uncaged itself in her mind.
She’d wake shivering, breathing as if she were fighting for her life against legions of the Absolute rather than visions within her own mind. He was always there, though, whispering soothing reminders that they were safe. That they were together. That the horrors inside her broken mind were toothless phantoms. Remnants of a fractured past she could only catch flashes of.
She’d offered on many occasions to sleep alone, saying it made little sense for both Astarion and her to suffer because of her tortuous insomnia. He’d been firm in his refusals and finally told her that if she didn’t stop saying such ludicrous nonsense he’d figure out how to charm one of Gale’s used socks to jump down her throat every time she mentioned the idea.
Gods, was she thankful for that absurd and stubborn man.
She turned her head, eyes focusing on the pale elf who slept beside her. They’d settled into a habit of overnighting in his tent due to the plank of wood that served as a haphazard bed. Like her, Astarion’s sleep could be troubled, disturbed by his own breeds of monsters that lurked around the corners in his brain. His past was filled with grim and vicious memories. What small comforts he had been able to acquire over the past 200 years were things he clung to like life rafts upon a boiling and thrashing ocean. The stiff plank he slept on brought him a strange sort of peacefulness. He’d told her once that the only soft bed he’d been allowed to use while under Cazador’s control was the large plush bed in the palace’s guest room. The room where he and the other spawn “entertained” those who were brought back for Cazador to feast upon.
His bed in the dorms had been stiff and old, and yet he’d far preferred it to the lavish guest bed. Sleeping on something too downy and cushioned reminded him of the countless nights he’d spent being smothered into a pliable mattress by whatever piece of transient garbage he’d lured back to the palace. They’d have their way with him while he’d disassociate, his body working through the motions of sex while his mind walled itself off. It had become second nature to disconnect himself from the present the moment he slumped onto that soft bed.
It was a cruel byproduct of his torment that laying on comfortable bedding triggered a deep seeded anxiety in him, but Eli honestly didn’t mind the stiff makeshift cot Astarion had set up in his tent for them. Her body recalled sleeping on worse, even if her mind didn’t clearly remember the details. Astarion had even started laying down a thin bedroll atop the plank once their shared sleeping arrangements became a regular thing. It had been completely unprompted. One evening she’d entered his tent and it had simply been there, an unspoken acknowledgement of the validity of their relationship.
They were both uncouth morons when it came to navigating the delicacies and emotions of romantic relationships. They’d been quick to indulge in one another physically, the both of them looking to find refuge from the specters of their pasts in one another’s arms. They hadn’t meant for it to mean anything, and yet they’d kept seeking one another out - drawn together like kobolds are drawn to shiny objects. They’d tried ignoring their growing affections, but neither one of them were particularly good at pretending to be nonchalant and stable. Primarily because neither one of them really knew what that looked like.
Astarion had confessed first, admitting to his initially manipulative intentions with her and revealing truths about his enslavement to Cazador that made her heart ache for him. Eli knew, instinctively, that empathy was not an emotion she was incredibly familiar with. It made her anxious, feeling for someone else. And yet, when Astarion had said he wanted something real with her, she’d felt an almost wild desperation surge to life within herself. She wanted that, too. With him.
A cruel and vicious voice at the back of her mind had admonished her for her pathetic weakness. She should be punished, skinned alive for allowing herself to feel this kind of fondness and yearning for someone else. Once, she had been worshiped as a god by those around her. Once, she had been feared and her name whispered in awe and horror. Once, she had been something powerful, something violent and vicious, a conduit of destruction and carnage. Though the details were fractured, scattered about her ruined brain like shards of glass, she knew instinctually that she was a child of slaughter and that the bonds of mortals should have been beneath her.
But that didn’t stop her. Perhaps…perhaps she could be different. Something else. Something that was valued as more than just a weapon. Something that wasn’t just a means to an end. Something that didn’t need to butcher and rip the world inside out in order to be loved.
She’d pushed the Urge down, beating it back as she confessed her own affections for Astarion.
That had been some weeks ago, back in the Shadowlands. Now, they were just outside Baldur’s Gate, and things were…good between them. To her never-ending astonishment.
Her eyes focused on the sleeping elf next to her. He looked so peaceful, the worried lines of his face smooth and serene at rest. He was pallid, pretty and perfect like a cadaver forever tranquil. Just one stab, a stake through the heart and he’d always be like this – he’d never know torment or despair again. No one would ever hurt him.
She took a long, slow breath and banished the intrusive thoughts back to the shadows of her mind where they always lingered. She would never…she couldn’t…gods, she hated those thoughts that never let her be. They filled her with a sick guilt as she recalled nights tied up, howling and screaming and raging as she spat out all the ways she’d flay and ruin his beautiful body. Afterwards, once the Urges had quieted, Astarion would simply laugh as he cut her bonds, always joking about how you had to pay good coin for degradation like that in the city. He’d hold her until she calmed, the both of them quiet, content to just be together for one more day.
They shouldn’t work, not as a couple or as anything else, really. They were barely functional as individuals. Together, they should have been about as operational as a dumpster that was missing one wheel and was on fire. But they did work. They were careful with the broken pieces of each other, treating them with reverence and respect. They understood pain all too well, and not just the physical kind but the raw and panicked pain of having everything you valued ripped away. Of having your very self torn from your control…the pain of being used and the fear that no matter how loud you screamed or how hard you fought it would happen again.
The fear that you would never be anything more than a tool.
And so they were gentle with one another, in a way only reserved for them. Careful touches and trusting hands, concerned glances and warm smiles, constant wordless affirmations that they were at one another’s backs - that when one of them crumbled the other would be there to help build them back up, attentively and without judgement.
Neither of them knew what they were doing. Their combined histories with healthy relationships added up to an unsurprising number of zero. Astarion had admitted to her that he couldn’t remember ever bedding the same person twice. And Eli…well, she couldn’t remember anything, frankly. Her memories of past lovers were nonexistent…at least…
At least until today. Today, when they’d finally met the infamous Enver Gortash.
The name had always struck her as strange, from the first time she heard it when Karlach told Eli about the tiefling had acquired her infernal engine. The name had stirred something in her brain, like a familiar tune that she couldn’t remember the words for. And every time someone mentioned him, that sense grew stronger. It was as if there was a crack in her skull and every time she’d reach for that sense of familiarity, it would leak out and away just beyond reach.
Until today, when they stood in the opulent and grand hall of Wyrm’s Rock Fortress, surrounded by the elite of Baldur’s Gate, and she finally saw the man who had wrought so much suffering not only upon the city and the coast, but on her friends…
The flash in his eyes when they met hers…a sense of knowing, a sting of excitement. That spark of familiarity suddenly blazed hot and she knew this man was not a stranger. Not to her…
“If you keep staring, darling, I’m going to start charging you for the privilege,” a soft and slightly chiding voice lurched her back into the present.
Eli flinched, startled, blinking away the haze of her thoughts and focusing on Astarion, who now was peering at her through half-lidded and slightly weary eyes. He’d been sleeping with an arm draped across her waist – Astarion had grown fond of resting with an arm or a hand touching her, and she liked it, too. It was comforting.
He trailed his hand along her side in a calming manner, brows furrowing slightly with a hint of concern.
“Sorry,” Eli said with a slight yawn. “I was worlds away.” She gave him a small, tired smile as she reached out and brushed her fingers against the ruffles of his shirt, mindlessly beginning to fiddle with the cloth.
Astarion’s hand slid to her back, pulling her closer until her head was tucked below his chin and he could rest with his cheek against her silvery hair.
Eli could feel the soft rumble of his voice vibrate up from his chest as he chuckled quietly. “I’ve been told I have that effect on people,” he mumbled cheerily as his other hand began to gently brush through her hair, fingers carefully smoothing out any snarls as he stroked back and forth.
She hummed appreciatively, breathing deep and feeling eased by the familiar scent of rosemary and bergamot. “And who told you that?” she asked, teasingly.
“Hmm,” he pondered, running a dexterous finger along the side of her ear, causing goosebumps to prick along her arms. “I think it was you,” he mused slyly before his voice dipped lower into a growl and she felt his breath warm against her ear. “You remember, don’t you? That one night you told me I ravished you so thoroughly your soul left your body.”
He couldn’t see Eli’s exaggerated eye roll, but he could hear the grin in her voice as she responded. “I seem to remember that very same night you saying I exhausted you into delirium,” she teased, poking tenderly at his chest. “In the best way possible, of course,” Eli smirked.
Astarion sighed, the hand on her back drawing aimless circles as he murmured, “I do miss our nighttime trysts.”
Eli smiled, nuzzling into the crook of his neck and placing a light kiss there. “You know what they say. Absence makes the heart grow fonder. Or some such bullshit like that…”
“They sound awfully boring, whoever they are.” The vampire hummed low in his throat, kicking a leg over her waist and hooking his foot between her legs at her knees so that they were tangled together in a possessive embrace.
Eli just chuckled. They’d backed off the sexual aspects of their relationship for now, the both of them having their own flavors of hang ups that they needed to sort through. For Eli, that meant parsing through her strange, sometimes disturbing Urges which continued to insist that the lines between butchery and eroticism were blurred. Bloodplay was one thing, and that would likely remain a happy little staple in their titillating toolbox once they were ready to be that physically intimate again. But Eli had…other thoughts. Thoughts she wasn’t exactly comfortable with. Darker ones that bubbled up at extremely inopportune times and had her questioning whether she really wanted to shed light on her obscured past.
She breathed in Astarion’s scent, grounding herself in the now and pushing those musing away for another day. The desire between Eli and Astarion had not diminished, and on more than one occasion they had teetered precariously on the boundaries they’d set and wondering whether they should just say fuck it and…well…fuck. They’d always talk themselves down from the ledge, though, comfortable in the knwoeldge that when it did happen it would be earthshattering.
“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours, love?” Astarion’s voice held a note of worry and Eli realized she’d been drifting off into the confines of her own brain again.
“Everything,” she sighed, frustrated with herself.
Astarion was silent for a moment, considering. The hand in her hair stilled while the one on her back pulled her in a bit tighter. “Is it…” he began, then paused a bit uncertainly, hesitant with his question. “Are you thinking about today? About…Gortash?”
He said the name so quietly that it would have been inaudible had they not been so closely pressed together. Eli wasn’t surprised about the question. She’d been acutely aware of how Astarion’s eyes never left her as she spoke with the newly crowned Archduke of Baldur’s Gate earlier that day. How he had discreetly positioned himself closely behind her, just off to her right. How he’d tensed, fingers ghosting near the hilt of a hidden dagger when Gortash said he’d always liked Eli. How his gaze darkened and his jaw tightened as Astarion sized the man up from across the hall before they left.
She knew this was a delicate situation for the vampire. Astarion despised showing any sort of vulnerability that could be construed as a reason for pity. Vulnerability, in general, was something he was still figuring out how to navigate after two centuries of living in an environment where anything and everything that could be used against him was twisted into a tool for subjugation and pain. Even with her, there were times when he wouldn’t let his walls come down, needing space to sort through his own internal barriers before he was ready to open up. Eli didn’t mind, and would give him all the time and space he needed. And bit by bit it became easier, for the both of them.
“That…yes,” she admitted, wanting to be truthful with him.
It wasn’t just Gortash, though. It was what he had told her, about Eli’s role in the whole Cult of the Absolute fraud. It was difficult for her to reconcile what she had apparently done with who she was now…the misery she’d set in motion. The lives she had destroyed. She shut her eyes and pressed closer to Astarion, seeking comfort in the cool of his skin against the inferno she felt inside.
He hugged her close, voicing a thought that had been gnawing away at his insides all day. “Were the two of you…close? Like us?”
The tentative, halting way in which he asked squeezed at her heart. As if he were bracing himself for something terrible, for something that would rip her away from him, just like everything else he’d ever given a damn about.
She thought for a while, mulling over the question. There was still so much that she didn’t know about who she was. Who she had been. She’d tell him what she could, though. He deserved that.
“I think we were. Close, I mean,” she clarified when she felt Astarion stiffen anxiously. “Not like us, though.”
She pulled her head back, out from under his chin, so she could see his face and meet his gaze with her own. Astarion’s eyes were round and distressed, the pinch between his brows furrowed and the lines of his face were tense. His eyes searched her own, desperately wanting to know who that man was to her while also fearing the answer.
Eli smiled warmly, bringing her hand up to brush one of his white curls behind his ear. His face softened slightly at her touch while the hand on her back clutched at her shirt as if to hold her here with him.
“There’s still so much darkness in my memory. But, there are things that have come back in flashes and fragments,” she explained, holding his gaze as her finger trailed to the edge of his eyebrow. “And while I’m not wholly sure what Gortash and I were to one another, I know it wasn’t like this.” Her hand came to rest on his cheek, thumb gently caressing his face near the corner of his mouth.
“Not like us,” she affirmed with a tenderness that allowed Astarion to relax, the stiffness easing out of him as the hint of a smile twitched at his lips. “He knew what happened to me,” she said softly, putting into words a thought that had been lingering at the back of her mind.
“He knew what happened to me, and he welcomed the person who did it into his confidence,” she said with a tinge of sadness to her voice. There was an ache of betrayal behind her words, and thought she didn’t fully understand everything her history with Gortash entailed, she understood this. “He stood by while I was unmade. While everything I was, the person he claims to care for, was brutalized and decimated.”
Eli’s words took on a cold edge, sharp as a shard of ice. Astarion listened intently, his breath caught at the back of his throat. He ached to pull her back into him, to wrap her up in his arms and shut the world out. Instead, he placed his hand on the back of her own and intertwined his fingers with hers, holding it against his cheek as Eli spoke.
“When I woke up on the nautiloid, I was nothing. Just the discarded scraps of whoever I had been. I had been thrown away. And nobody came looking for me.” She paused, her eyes flicking down in a brief moment of uncertainty.
There were some truths between them that had still gone unsaid. Truths that neither of them were ready to admit, and some that simply didn’t need words to be understood. Not this, though. This, she wanted him to hear.
“Since then, it’s been difficult not to think of myself as damaged goods. Something that was used up until it broke and was discarded.” She felt Astarion squeeze her hand and she looked back to him. There was a pang of recognition in his red eyes. “Everyone who I spoke to about my…urges, they all confirmed that there was something very wrong with me, even if they sympathized. Everyone except you.”
She paused, brushing her thumb once more against his face before she lifted her hand from him and took his own hand in hers. She pulled it to her lips, lightly kissing his knuckles while he stared at her, afraid to take his eyes off her for fear that she and this moment might evaporate if he did. He had stopped breathing, which luckily was not something he necessarily needed to do in order to maintain his existence.
Eli searched his face as Astarion waited for her to go on, breathless and just a tiny bit desperate to hear what she would say next. She wondered if he understood just how much it meant to her to have someone who didn’t see the wreck that she was when they looked at her. Someone who didn’t see a monster and only saw her, broken pieces be damned.
She thought he probably did…
“You were the only one who encouraged me to simply be whoever I was, darkness and all. I know at the time you were probably just looking to entertain yourself with whatever chaos and bloodshed I could cause,” she laughed and the expression on Astarion’s face melted into one of complete adoration.
“Guilty,” Astarion admitted with a laugh of his own. “And you haven’t disappointed,” he added softly, brushing a knuckle back up against her lips with delicate reverence.
She kissed at it, holding his tender gaze. “I don’t think you know how much that meant to me, though. And then later, when I was at my worst, you stayed by me and took care of me and you never stopped.”
Eli swallowed down the lump in her throat and blinked away the warmth that was threatening at her eyes.
“Nothing else could be like us, because no one has ever cared about me like you,” she concluded, smiling softly and whispering the words with the sincerity of a prayer.
Astarion stared at Eli for a long moment, emotions colliding and burning in his chest with so much vigor he was surprised his dead heart didn’t start beating again. He felt elated and awed by what she’d said. So much so that he was struck speechless and could only play her words over and over again in his mind, wanting to capture them perfectly and tuck them somewhere deep inside himself where no one could reach to steal them away. He couldn’t recall anyone ever saying anything to him that made him feel so cherished and significant. He traced the planes of her face with eyes that were beginning to wet as he tried to clear his throat and failed.
Eli watched Astarion carefully for a moment before her eyes widened in concern and she lifted a hand to him, carding it gently through his curled hair.
“Oh shit, did I break you?” she asked, only half joking as she stroked her hand through his hair.
The feel of it helped to calm him as a wide smile spread over his face, eyes half-lidded and looking at Eli like she was the most precious thing he’d ever seen.
“Come here you sweet, silly thing,” Astarion said, voice low and underpinned with a raw adoration that caused a flutter to take up in Eli’s chest.
He pulled her into a needy embrace; one hand placed softly in her hair as he tucked her head back under his chin, the other hand tightening around the small of her back to hold her close. He kissed the top of her head and breathed in slow, savoring her scent. She’d always smelled like wildflowers and the cool mist before a storm, like something exciting and freeing.
“Gods, you’re incredible,” he breathed, wondering what in the hells he had ever done in his irrelevant life to deserve her admiration. “I don’t think I’m ever going to want to let you go, my love.”
Eli wrapped her arms around him and for a moment she felt safe, secure and at peace.
“Then don’t,” she whispered against him.
They stayed wrapped up in one another until dawn, thankful to have one more day and hopeful for so many more.
#bg3#baldur's gate 3#baldur’s gate iii#bg3 spoilers#baldurs gate 3#astarion#astarion bg3#bg3 astarion#astarion fanfic#bg3 fanfiction#astarion fanfiction#bg3 fanfic#astarion x mc#astarion x durge#astarion x tav#astarion x dark urge#astarion romance#soft astarion#sweet astarion#durgestarion#durgetash
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THE @diorkyeom / @fairyhaos AO3 FIC REC LIST: PART 3
masterlist. part one. part two.
part three of all the ao3 fics that i've read for seventeen which i've loved, kudosed, and proceeded to download so i'll always have with me! lots of these are fics that have been in my library for a while that i just never got round to reccing, so expect a lot of verkwan in this haha
(list is in order of titles!)
By Any Other Name - bapilli
verkwan, omegaverse, oneshot
i don't even read omegaverse so idk how i even ended up reading this in the first place but. it's actually sooo so sweet. their dynamic is just sososo gentle and hansol just Likes seungkwan SO MUCH and it's So obvious and it makes me want to sob in my hands a little bit. this fic gets bonus points for its hurt/comfort elements and the gentle reassurance it has.
Give Me A Chance To Be Yours - lillupon
meanie, uni au, pining, chaptered
listen guys. there is So Much stuff in the meanie tag that if i rec a meanie fic, you just know it's the best of the best. the whole best-friends-who-act-like-theyre-dating thing is delicious But add that with oblivious mingyu and pining wonu and a confession not taken seriously and jealousy and you have an absolutely stellar fic. and wow, guess what, that's exactly what this fic is
Green (With Leaves) - kaiteki
soonhoon, plant shop au, chaptered (but short)
no bc why is literally the gentlest, sweetest, fondest soonhoon characterisation ever and why is it so accurate???? i Love dramatic soonyoung and dry humour jihoon and their fun little dynamic put into the loveliest friends to lovers plot ever. y'all know that i prefer strangers/ friends to lovers over e2l for soonhoon any day and this fic does it rly well
i'm all about you - checkyeshoshi
verkwan, football (soccer), chaptered
honestly seungkwan as a firecracker of a football coach is something ive Never thought about before but it also makes so much sense???? and hansol just being The Guy dragged into the team's shenanigans is so adorable and very much him imo. also seungkwan basically just gawking at hansol's muscles the entire time >>>
Insomnia - Mistehri
soonhoon, canon au, ib insomnia zero 1, oneshot
soooo soft and soooo sweet!!! i love little canon fics bc theyre always so self indulgent and i love that for the author. also adorable jihoon who can't sleep without soonyoung?? that's absolutely adorable and i cried a bit bc my heart was Melting at how soft they are
pack off the sunset glow - orphan_account
verkwan, roadtrip, non-idols au, oneshot
*clenches fists* i love these gay little boys so so much. it's so chaotic and fun and you literally can imagine everything that happens here and seungkwan being a dramatic mess as usual makes everything soo so much better
PEACH. - petitseok
seoksoo, non-idols, age regression, twoshot
honestly ive never even read those caregiver + regressor fics before but this one :((( instantly the best one of those types of fics ever like. i don't even know what made me click on it but it's So sweet and devastating and regressor!seok now has my heart bc of course this lovely man with big doe eyes should get to act like a 3 year old every now and then to relax
The Tiger On The Mountain - natigail
soonhoon, magical realism, shapeshifter hoshi, chaptered
hnnghghfh listen. people really underappreciate the potential for hybrid fics and shapeshifter fics that hoshi's tiger agenda brings, but this uses it really well! i love the interleaving of fantasy into Totally Normal Lee Jihoon's life and dude,,, the cliché tropes r all just so good
What's In A Name - thanku4urlove
verkwan, non-idols, fluff, crack, oneshot
seungkwan is so!!! himself!!! in this fic and i literally even have one section of this fic screenshotted bc i screamed about it to my friend since it was such an on-point seungkwan characterisation. also user thanku4urlove literally writes the best verkwan fics. i think i've recced their fics in every list so far
your name is a triangle - universefactory(jaeminjeno)
soonhoon, idolverse, established relationship, oneshot
mild misunderstandings and soft relationships. that's it, that's the fic. soonyoung is Sad and Sulking but jihoon is there to knock some sense into him and all is fine once again :D okay but also the way that the members r just so caring in the fic is vv sweet too
#diorkyeom's fic recs#seventeen#svt#svt fic#verkwan#meanie#minwon#seoksoo#soonhoon#svt x reader#seungcheol#scoups#jeonghan#ao3#joshua#joshua hong#junhui#woozi#jihoon#hoshi#soonyoung#wonwoo#dokyeom#seokmin#mingyu#minghao#seungkwan
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2023 Fic Recommendations
A list of all my favorite fics that I read this year that I wanted to share. Many of them and more can be found under my “fic rb” tag. A lot of them are also available on AO3. Please read any and all warnings and tags on fics and respect any boundaries writers may have.
Peter Parker
The very first one of this year was and they were roommates by @rowniebow. A sweet, gay story that I loved and hold dearly. Summary: peter parker and y/n y/l/n are roommates, and if there’s anything to know about them it’s that they hate living together.
The next is Florence by @periprose. An ongoing multi-chaptered fic. It’s great every time I see a new update. Every turn is incredible as they deal with reconciliation and a few wedding mishaps. Summary: You and Peter Parker are former childhood best friends. As next door neighbours, you and him spent a great deal of time together, either at school, playing video games, or during your yearly summer vacations at Florence, Italy. But after you drifted away from him- you both went to different colleges, and you figured you wouldn't need to bother him anymore with your unrequited crush that you had never spoken of but clearly showed symptoms of- things are very awkward. It's even more so when you receive an invitation to Harry and MJ's destination wedding, located at Florence, of course.
Peter B. Parker
A different Peter Parker, all the same love. The first one is it’s rotten work by @cockdestroyer32. It’s soft and incredible. Summary: Peter's been a wreck after his divorce with MJ. Thankfully, you're there to look after him.
Similarly, is an AO3 work called That’s Rough Buddy by Cats_Cradle. Genuinely all the love to ITSV Peter. Navigating through both their individual issues and loneliness together while Peter also deals with hiding Spider-Man was so sweet and soft, at times messy. Summary: In which Peter 'chaotic mess' Parker meets his match. Excerpt: “Heights and alcohol, typically not the best combination.” A male’s voice teased. You bit the inside of your cheek and scowled, turning to bark back an insult at the nosy man. But there was no one on either side of you, which made your anger fizzle into more of an irritated confusion. “Great, now I’m hearing things.” You scoffed and tilted your head back to take another swig from the bottle out of spite. As you tilted your head back though, a blob of red and blue caught your eye. Sticking to the wall above you was none other than your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.
Miguel O’Hara
I’ve only really got one recommendation for this one and it’s Every You Every Me by @astroboots. I already read and liked some of her other work, this one did not disappoint at all. It was exhilarating and interesting. The buildup, dynamics, and twists were all incredible. Summary: You are falling from the 44th floor of the Chrysler building when you’re saved by the unfriendly neighborhood Spider-man.
Matt Murdock
I fell in love with this man this year and it only feels right to start off with @bellaxgiornata. All of her work is incredible but I’m specifically adding Falling For The Devil and All These Years to this list. Both are ongoing series. FFTD is a series that sticks with me and I think about at random times. It’s sweet, fun, angsty, and in the author’s own words, “spicy”. You really get to see the whole relationship develop and them navigate it and life, up and down. ATY is a lot of hurt, a little comfort later on. College, lack of communication (that’s not frustrating to witness), growth and trying to push forward and move on, yet hopeless devoted to another. I stayed up until nearly 4AM reading this one. FFTD Summary: This is a very long series/collection of one-shots about a nervous/awkward journalist Reader meeting, falling for, and dating Matt Murdock. Meant to feel like a realistic look into dating Matthew Murdock and all the sweet, vulnerable, sexy, and dark sides that come with him. Reader also gradually gains more confidence in and out of the bedroom as the relationship progresses. ATY Summary: You met Matthew Murdock unexpectedly at Columbia University and you couldn't deny that there was an instant attraction–for you. But for Matt, you became as close of a friend to him as Foggy did. As the years pass by, your feelings only grow for your best friend, but all you can do is watch as he dates and sleeps with every other woman on campus and eventually in New York City but you.
Next is Of blood and worship and Go to him, therefore, by the sea by @raelwrites. I love a lot of Rael’s writing, but I’m sticking to these two for this list (as much as I love Gunpowder and cinnamon). Stories about non-humans are awesome. The descriptions and dynamic in Of blood and worship is so good and merman with a human bonding is a classic. Of blood and worship Summary: You, an elderitch horror with a soft spot for humans, are awoken from your slumber by a lonely voice of one young Matt Murdock. You stayed by his side constantly, helping him, keeping him company. And you tried to keep him from knowing you were there. But what would happen if the ever vigilant blind lawyer takes notice of you? Go to him, therefore, by the sea summary: You save an injured merperson in the caverns you frequent often. And now, he's there every time you venture down there. Communicating with the being is hard, but you learn how to talk to each other. A story of longing-
Third is The Key You Wear by @devils-dares. I love a good exes to lovers, people with strained relationships that still deeply care for each other. This is that with some gentle loving. Summary: you get a voicemail from your ex, who is very much not well. you visit him the next day to make sure all is well (spoiler alert: it's not)
Please, Be Okay by @farfromstrange. A classic vigilante trope of worry and concern if your beloved will return, the dread as it doesn’t look like and then a spiral. This one is just incredible. Summary: When Matt doesn't text or answer your calls during a night out, you can't help but suspect the worst.
This one-shot is a little heavier, still a great read. Muted Dawn by @ellephlox. Life’s dangerous, it’s rough, Matt Murdock being around certainly helps a little though. Summary: You get mugged in the middle of the night, but Matt isn't there to save you.
Last of Matt’s is, The End of the World and Everything After by @up-in-space-reading. Blip stories about Matt are always so interesting but this one is so sweet. Loved watching them heal and learn as they continue to build their life together. Summary: Half of the universe is turned into dust because of Thanos. You and Matt were left behind to pick up the pieces of yourselves and try to learn how to live without the most important people in your lives.
Moon Knight
First Moon Knight fic is Small Surprises by @angel-of-the-moons. A sweet fic featuring autistic Steven as he bonds with Reader’s daughter along with the other boys. Eventually they fall in love and the boys fit into her and her daughter’s little domestic life rather easily. For the most part. Ongoing fic. Summary: N/A
A Night to Remember by @xcalciumx. This one is so interesting, especially the demon. Jake reveal combined with a fight against, along with a demon. Summary: A nice night with your boyfriend Marc quickly unveils into chaos. A third altar? A horrifying demon? Your half-assed Egyptian God of Wind and Air, Shu? What could possibly go wrong
not him by @loud-mouth-loser. I love stories of “I love you, you do not. I still love you, regardless.” along with, “the people we love, do not love us” and then they bond over that and cope with it together. Multi-chaptered. Summary: you’ve been steven’s best friend for a while and have had a crush on him as long as you’ve known him. unfortunately, his eyes are on layla, his alter’s wife. let's just say, you’re not the only one put off by this. this is a story of how you and marc bond over your sorrows.
Last, but not least, is Constellations by @asimplearchivist. A sweet, ongoing series with gentle love and action as the boys grapple with everything post-S1 and falling in love. Their relationship with the Reader is so sweet. The full multi-chaptered fic is available on AO3 to registered users. Summary: steven, unbeknownst to him, meets the love of his life at one of its lowest points.
X-Men
This is section is just to recommend more of Rael’s work. Florentine and Wasurenai by @raelwrites. Both are ongoing multi-chaptered fics with poly relationships. Rael writes dynamics and relationships in a way that I just love. I love their world building too. Florentine Summary: Right so here is the harem-esque royalty au fic (Titled achromatopia) with some of the marvel characters. You are a newly coronated Emperor to the Empire of Nocturnus, having gained the throne after your father's death as well as your mutiny against the heir to the throne. The Empire had gotten corrupt, and you took over to remove that mold from the place. But as an illegitimate child of the former Emperor, you have little to no political influence and have no experience in finances. How could you cover for those flaws? Well, you could get married to all the geniuses you meet... Wasurenai Summary: N/A
#fic rec#peter parker x reader#peter b parker x reader#miguel o’hara x reader#matt murdock x reader#moon knight x reader#steven grant x reader#marc spector x reader#jake lockely x reader#erik lensherr x reader
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Together by this Christmas Tree
Summary: The Avengers have an annual tradition of a Secret Santa Gift Exchange, and Theo’s life becomes a real life Hallmark Movie when she draws Loki’s name and has to get him five days of gifts. Because shopping for a god and a prince, especially one that you have a massive crush on, is easy, right?!
Author's Notes: HELLO AND HAPPY HOLIDAYS! This is a one-shot set in the WEMTBB world with our favorite sorcerers, however you do not need to be caught up on (or even have started) WEMTBB in order to enjoy this story! For those of you who are reading WEMTBB, this takes place in the future, when these two are in their “mutual pining idiots” stage; you will absolutely spot some easter eggs, but there are no major spoilers here.
This is for @sarahscribbles Christmas Collection, because I’m strolling in five minutes late with Starbucks for Christmas by posting this the day after Christmas.
If you're a regular reader of WEMTBB, I am still planning to update it on Sunday (12/31).
Content: Absolute tooth-rotting fluff, Secret Santa, LOADS of mutual pining, Wanda being a very supportive friend, some pranks along the way, Loki in multiple sweaters, and lots of Loki getting the love, kindness, and attention he deserves.
Word Count: 8,104
Read on AO3 | When Everything's Made to be Broken Masterlist
—
When Steve first made the announcement, at the end of a mission debrief, Theo swore he was joking.
The idea of the Avengers making a point to celebrate Christmas seemed a bit strange - beyond the fact that there were two Norse Gods on the team, it seemed presumptuous to assume everyone else was Christian.
Theo’s feelings about the winter holidays were, at best, ambivalent. Sure, she liked the holiday lights, and she was a sucker for a good holiday song. She enjoyed showering her niece, Katie, with presents - after all, what kind of auntie would Theo be if she didn’t absolutely spoil her niece? And any time Theo could visit Mémère for longer than an hour or two was a blessing in its own right.
But the holidays also reminded her of the family she lost, and being the single friend at every holiday party got tiring (especially when her well-intended friends kept trying to set Theo up with people that Theo had absolutely no interest in). It had reached a point that Theo often volunteered to work the holiday shifts, as chaotic as they were, just so she had the excuse to avoid awkward gatherings.
However, when the other Avengers lit up like the Rockefeller Center Christmas tree at the announcement of the Secret Santa gift exchange, Theo kept her mouth shut. She was still relatively new to the team, and it wasn’t the first time she had been subjected to workplace celebrations for holidays she didn’t celebrate.
But of course, this was a group of superheroes celebrating, so it wasn’t a basic Secret Santa; no, of course not, because nothing about them was basic. It was five days of secret Santa.
At least the rules were simple: each person drew the name of another Avenger. Then, you had to give the person whose name you drew a series of gifts with clues about your identity leading up to the final day, when you would give them a gift and a final clue. Then, each person would try to guess who their Secret Santa was. Regardless of whether or not they figured it out, each person would receive one final gift, something a bit more special.
Steve closed the announcement by informing the group they would draw names the following Monday, and would have approximately a month to pick out gifts before they completed the exchange. A certain buzz filled the air as everyone left the conference room, with some reminiscing about funny moments from past exchanges, while others pondered over who they might end up with.
It wasn’t until after the meeting that Theo had the foresight to ask if the Secret Santa exchange was meant to replace getting everyone their own gifts, or if it was in addition to getting everyone their own gifts. Wanda, ever the MVP when it came to explaining unwritten Avengers’ rules to Theo, explained that it was in addition to getting everyone else gifts.
Theo spent the next two days praying she would get someone easy to shop for - after all, she already had to get gifts for a dozen Avengers, plus her hospital colleagues, and her family. She wasn’t sure that she had enough mental capacity to figure out gifts for someone she wasn’t as familiar with.
Of course, some deity had it out for her, because she drew Loki’s name.
Loki, the prince and ‘most powerful sorcerer in the nine realms,’ who could buy or conjure pretty much anything he wanted in the snap of his fingers.
Loki, who, besides being Theo’s best friend among the Avengers, happened to be the person Theo had a massive fucking crush on.
It wasn’t like anything would ever come of the crush - Loki had a firm rule that he did not date. He had no interest in relationships whatsoever. It was a tidbit of information Theo learned early on in her tenure as an Avenger, amidst a conversation about the love lives of the Avengers as a whole. Loki would spend one night with someone, but never allow it to become an ongoing thing - in his words, “everyone has certain needs to satiate, but courting someone is no interest of mine.”
So, despite Theo’s unbidden thoughts of channeling her inner hallmark movie to reveal her feelings to Loki, she needed to figure out how the hell to navigate getting him Secret Santa gifts, a normal gift… oh yeah, and his birthday gift, because that was a week before Christmas.
Inevitably, once they finished drawing names, Theo immediately dragged Wanda down the hall by the sleeve of her red hoodie and into Wanda’s suite, since it was closer than Theo’s.
“What’s going on?” Wanda half-laughed as she closed the door and glanced, worriedly, at Theo, who had started to pace the room. “Are you okay?”
“I need your help with Secret Santa — What the hell do you get someone who could have anything they want for Christmas?” Theo flopped on Wanda’s bed with a dramatic sigh, her mind reeling with how to handle her predicament.
“That depends –” Wanda answered slowly, eyes narrowed as she approached Theo. “Why do you think they have everything?”
“Because he’s a prince and a God who can conjure anything he damn well pleases with the snap of his fingers!” Theo tossed her arms up in the air, gesturing exasperatingly at nothing.
Nothing - just like the ideas she had for Loki’s gifts.
Nothing.
“So you have Loki for your Secret Santa?” Wanda sat down beside Theo, smirking at her.
“Yes!” Theo buried her face with her hands. “I had a hard enough time figuring out a birthday present, and I still haven’t figured out what to get him for a normal Christmas gift! But now I also have to give him a Secret Santa gift?!”
“Gifts, plural.” Wanda reminded her, smirk widening into a rather evil-looking grin. “Remember, it’s a week of lead-up to the final gift, because the goal is to try and have them guess who it is.”
“FUCK.” Theo let her arms drop to her sides. “This isn’t fair—“ she whined, earning a poorly stifled laugh from Wanda.
“Oh come on, it’s not like he’s the only one who is hard to shop for,” Wanda attempted to sympathize, but the giggles that slipped out as she replied did little to help. “Can you imagine having to buy gifts for Tony?”
“Simple, get him booze.” Theo scoffed, propping herself up on her elbows.
Wanda rolled her eyes and adjusted her ponytail, one auburn lock falling aside to frame her face.
“Look, half the fun is writing the little cards that go with each gift to give the person clues about who the gifts are from, and then trying to figure out the identity of your Secret Santa,” Wanda pointed out. “Besides, other than Thor, I’m willing to bet that no one knows Loki as well as you do!”
“That only makes it worse,” Theo complained and flopped back a second time, rolling over to bury her face in Wanda’s burgundy comforter. “Because I know he’s a picky bitch and nothing will be good enough for him.”
The snort that came out of Wanda did nothing to ease Theo’s concern, but it sounded ridiculous enough that even Theo laughed.
“I think that he’d like any gift you give him, simply because it’s from you.”
“That’s cliché as hell.” Theo pressed herself up enough to look over at Wanda, who, despite Theo’s whining and dramatics, still wore a small, knowing smile.
“And true.” Wanda shrugged. “You are, without a doubt, his favorite person on the team, and probably on this planet.”
“Yeah, for all the good that does me.” Theo grumbled to herself, but sat up all the way. “It’s not like I can tell him on day one that I’m his Secret Santa, so the gifts have to be good. No, they have to be perfect.”
“You’re overthinking this.” Wanda chuckled softly, then rose to her feet and held out a hand for Theo to grab onto. “How about we go shopping and see what is out there? Maybe you’ll get some inspiration that way.”
The petulant child within Theo wanted to complain for a bit longer about her predicament, but deep down, Wanda had a good point. If nothing else, it would give her a chance to get out and clear her head before the inevitable descent into holiday madness.
“Right. That’s probably a good idea.” Theo accepted Wanda’s hand and allowed her to pull Theo onto her feet. “I need to get gifts for my family anyways, so maybe i’ll knock it all out at once.”
“Only if I can help you pick out gifts for Katie,” Wanda winked at Theo as she opened the door.
“Deal.” Theo didn’t have to think twice before answering. “Do you have plans for this afternoon? I’m not working, so we could go today…”
Wanda held up her purse and grinned. “Let’s go!”
—
Shopping with Wanda, unsurprisingly, proved to be a fruitful venture.
Sure, the pair went absolutely wild with gifts for Theo’s niece. Would Max kill Theo when he saw just how much stuff Theo got? Absolutely. Did she care? Not a bit; after all, she had to maintain her reputation as the coolest aunt.
More importantly, Theo managed to put together a list of ideas for gifts that referenced inside jokes from the time that Theo and Loki had known each other. Even better - the conversation between Theo and Wanda as they shopped, though wide-ranging and lively, gave Theo the inspiration for her final gift.
In the end, the gifts required some careful planning, calling in some favors, and a lot of sneaking to make it happen - not to mention a few sleepless nights as Theo put the finishing touches on certain details - but she managed to pull everything together, just in time for the first day of gift-giving.
Pepper had really outdone herself with the holiday decorations. On a normal day, the common areas within the tower could be described as minimalist: clean lines, lots of metal and glass, neutral tones everywhere, no knick knacks or soft touches to be found. Not even a throw pillow or blanket could be found in the common areas - whenever Theo wanted a pillow or a blanket, she had to bring it from her suite.
Yet, when everyone filtered into the living room after going out for dinner, they may as well have walked into a luxury ski chalet at Tahoe. In one corner sat a massive, lush evergreen tree trimmed with glistening tinsel, soft white lights, and a collection of beautifully coordinated ornaments in burgundy, cream, gold, navy, emerald, and eggplant.
The fireplace had a beautiful garland of eucalyptus, cypress, and cedar draped across the mantle; tucked among the greenery sat pillar candles of varying heights in burgundy, navy, emerald, eggplant, and gold. Elegant, cream-colored stockings with each Avenger’s name embroidered at the top hung in front of the crackling fire (plus stockings for Pepper and Happy, since they were pretty much unofficial Avengers).
Blankets and accent pillows, some in plaids that incorporated the colors of the ornaments and candles, others in solid colors, all made of luxuriously plush fabrics, found homes on the various seating throughout the living room.
Even the coffee tables had coordinating centerpieces.
Theo quickly found her usual seat, but continued to gawk at the living room’s transformation. When the hell did Pepper (or, Theo supposed, whoever Pepper hired) have the time to decorate the living room? Just that morning, when Theo left for work, the living room had been its usual, minimalist styling. Maybe if she had stopped back in her suite before meeting the others at the restaurant she would have seen the living room decoration in progress.
Hardly a moment later, Loki sat down beside her. Dressed in a forest-green crewneck sweater that perfectly framed the planes of his chest and black dress pants that highlighted his long legs, Loki somehow managed to look holiday appropriate without even trying. His raven curls, just slightly disheveled from the wind and snow outside, framed his elegant features so perfectly; combined with the warm glow of the fire and the soft light of the christmas tree he appeared downright radiant, particularly as he grinned at something Thor said.
“Quite magnificent, is it not?” Loki leaned over and nudged Theo with his elbow, interrupting her train of thought. Theo had to stop for a moment and consider whether he was referring to the himself, or the living room.
“Yeah,” Theo agreed, her cheeks growing hot as she realized Loki caught her staring. “Compared to when I left this morning, it is a night and day difference.“
“I suspect Miss Potts takes great pleasure in decorating for the winter holidays.” Loki offered Theo a soft smile. His soft eyes caught the flicker of the candles atop the coffee table as he studied Theo, and for the second time in less than a couple minutes, she found herself speechless.
Luckily, Dum-E saved the day when he dropped a present on Theo’s lap, and in doing so brought both sorcerers’ attention to the larger group. As it turned out, Dum-E distributed everyone’s gifts - all wrapped in the same paper, to make sure that the gift wrap didn’t give anything away - and as soon as he finished, it was time to open the first day’s gift.
They started with Bruce, then worked their way through a randomly generated list that Steve put together. The soft lights of the Christmas tree, glow of the fire crackling in the hearth, and joyous laughter as each person read their clue and opened their gifts filled the room with such warmth. It was the kind of holiday scene you’d see on a postcard, especially since snowflakes drifted past the tall windows and into the city below.
As they drew closer to Loki’s turn, Theo’s hands began to sweat. What if he didn’t like her gift? Sure, it was kind of corny, but it was a fun reference to how they spent much of their time. He didn’t seem overly thrilled by the idea of Secret Santa in the first place; what if her silly little gifts only made him hate the game?
Well, she didn’t have to wait any longer to find out, because it finally reached Loki’s turn.
Loki picked up the small box, turning it over and inspecting it. He tossed it into the air and caught it in one hand, lithe fingers curling perfectly around the container.
“It is quite light, and rather small,” he observed. “Whatever is in this box does not jostle when moved, so it either fills the box or it is carefully packed in place. Let us see what is inside.”
Loki methodically removed the ribbons, then carefully tore away the gift wrap. He removed the lid in a graceful motion and set it aside, all the while peering into the box. He hummed.
Seeing the fabric folded and coiled inside, he reached in and tugged on the cloth, pulling it from the box. The fabric unfolded as he lifted the gift into the air, revealing the first gift: a pair of crew-length socks - black, with an emerald green heel and toe. On one side of each sock, placed so it would be visible while wearing shoes, was the design of an apple car driven by a worm, as well as text which read: “I’m on my way to the bookstore!”
“Aw, those are cute!” Wanda winked at Theo as she said the words, to which Theo casually agreed.
Loki maintained a relatively neutral expression, though he let out a rather amused hum. He set the socks in his lap, then opened the card. As his eyes scanned over the text, one side of his lips curled up, then the other, until he wore a sheepish smile. He read aloud:
“I know you love the bookstore,
We’ve been there a time or two,
But since I can’t buy the whole store,
I got you a pair of Crew… socks!
Sorry, I know you like poetry, but your Secret Santa isn’t a poet.” Loki chuckled, shaking his head, then continued: “These socks are from Out of Print, which has donated over 5 million books to communities in need and supports a variety of literacy initiatives.”
He looked up from the card and glanced around at the group. “Well, thank you to my mysterious Secret Santa. I quite enjoy a whimsical piece of attire, and I am certain these will be put to good use.”
Next to Loki, Theo let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding.
First day was not a failure.
Only… four more to go.
—
The second day of gift-giving arrived, and with it came another day of second-guessing whether or not Loki would like his gift.
This time, the idea came from a conversation early in their friendship. After falling asleep in Theo’s suite, Loki joined her for coffee on her balcony, at which point Theo explained a sudoku to Loki. At the time, he commented that there were “some puzzles he was still learning to solve.”
From that morning on, Theo couldn’t help but notice the way Loki approached briefings and missions as puzzles to solve. So when Theo found a pair of rather clever puzzle books (many of which provided a formidable challenge, even for her), she knew that it would be a perfect gift.
Yet, as the day crept on and the gift exchange grew near, Theo felt the seeds of doubt taking root once again. What if he thought the puzzles were stupid? He was a god, after all, and insanely intelligent. The puzzles might have been a challenge for Theo, but they were probably child’s play for Loki.
Still, it was too late to turn back, so by the time Theo sat down with the others and the gifts were distributed, she simply hid her sweaty palms in her sweater sleeves and acted like it was any other night in the tower.
Loki, for what it was worth, seemed perfectly relaxed when he took his usual seat beside Theo; this time, he opted for a plain gray t-shirt and a black cardigan, paired with what were (secretly) Theo’s favorite pair of dark, slim-fit jeans. When Loki crossed one ankle over his knee, Theo noticed his emerald green and black socks and her heart skipped a beat - he wore the socks she gave him.
That was a good sign, right?
Once again, Dum-E distributed the gifts, then each person took their turn opening their gift and reading the card; this time they started with Yelena, but otherwise the order was the same. After what felt like ages, Steve finally gave Loki the go-ahead to open his gift.
Like the first day, Loki went through the same routine of examining the box, then peeled away the wrapping paper.
For the sake of maintaining a bit of mystery (and making it slightly less obvious that the gift was a pair of books), Theo put the set into a clothing box and padded the sides. It wasn’t that sneaky, since the box was heavier than it would have been with apparel inside, but at least Loki wouldn’t know until he opened the box.
He opened the box and removed the first book.
“The Master Theorem - Book of Puzzles, Intrigue, and Wit,” he read the title, then held it up for all to see, then held up the second book and read off the title. “The Master Theorem: Elite - Book of Puzzles, Intrigue, and Wit.”
He returned the books to his lap, pausing for a moment to flip through the pages and glance at the contents.
“You gonna open the card?” Tony nodded towards the card that came with the box, which barely poked out from beneath the pair of books.
“Ah, yes, apologies.” Loki offered a half-smile, then retrieved the card and read aloud:
“While the identity of your Secret Santa is, well, a secret, it’s no secret that you, Loki, are pretty smart - like, ridiculously smart. And you’re a quick learner… Plus you’ve got a knack for problem solving. With that in mind, you seem to be a master when it comes to puzzles; even though you once told me there are still some puzzles you are learning to solve, the way you light up when you encounter a good logic puzzle or mystery makes me think there are few things you enjoy more than a good challenge.
“This series of puzzle books is notorious for its difficult logic puzzles - the New York Times called the first Master Theorem book “Mensa’s evil twin,” and the Elite edition is supposed to be exponentially harder. But with your sharp wit and attention to detail, I’m sure you’ll have it figured out in no time… And by the time you finish, maybe you’ll figure out the identity of your Secret Santa as well!”
Loki grinned as he folded the card and set it aside. “Thank you, my mysterious benefactor - I imagine I will be entertained for quite some time.”
For the rest of the evening, whenever Theo snuck a glance at Loki, she caught him flipping through his new books with a subtle smile and a twinkle in his eye, only half-paying attention to the others as they opened their gifts.
Day two: rousing success. Only three more days to go.
—
For the third day of gift-giving, Theo took a bigger risk.
At one point in Theo and Wanda’s shopping adventure, they stopped at a bakery to grab a snack and some coffee. While they waited for their drinks, they got on the topic of how, earlier that morning, Thor offered Loki a frosted pop-tart. In response, Loki nearly disintegrated the thing on sight, calling it an abomination to pastries everywhere.
And that was from Loki, the guy who was notorious for his sweet tooth.
The conversation gave Theo an idea.
Ever since Loki roped Theo into his pranks, Theo had wanted to find a way to turn the tables and prank him. And what better way to prank him than to bait-and switch some sweet treats?
With a call to Theo’s favorite Bodega cashier, Carlos (who still hadn’t gotten up the courage to ask out that girl, but had at least he learned her name was Liza), Theo managed to get her hands on one of the big cardboard boxes that they shipped pop-tarts in. Importantly, it said pop-tarts all along the outside, so when Loki saw the box he would initially think it was a whole case of pop-tarts.
Instead of filling it with pop-tarts, Theo convinced Mémère to bake up all sorts of traditional Aneterran holiday treats to fill the box. Given Mémère already planned to make the treats, it was easy for the family matriarch to accommodate the request. However, when Theo explained her plan, a knowing, almost devilish grin spread across Mémère’s face; the next thing Theo knew, there were treats that Theo hadn’t seen since she was a child.
Packing the treats into the box required quite a bit of attention to detail - it had to have the weight and heft of a case of pop-tarts, and it had to be packed tightly enough to not move around, but she also didn’t want to crush the treats.
There may have been some enchantments involved to make it work, but hopefully Loki wouldn’t notice.
Not wanting to make the prank too convincing, Theo made sure to leave clues that the box had been altered somehow; knowing Loki, realizing the box had been tampered with would make him curious enough to look inside.
When everyone gathered for the third night of gift-giving, the laughter and merriment from the first two nights returned almost immediately. But when it came to Loki’s turn to open his gift, Theo’s confidence from the day prior collided with her nerves, to the point that she clutched her mug of spiked hot chocolate so her hands wouldn’t shake.
Just like the first two nights, Loki inspected the wrapped gift, lifting it up and giving it a gentle shake. “Much larger, and rather heavy,” he noted. “Yet, there’s a card that indicates I ought to open it before the gift. I suppose I ought to follow my Secret Santa’s request.”
He set the gift back in his lap, and quickly opened the card.
“Heard you have a sweet tooth…” Loki read aloud, then glanced down at the gift and hummed. “Well, let us see what is inside.”
Loki started to tear away the wrapping paper, but paused part-way through; his face twisted into something unreadable when he saw the writing on the box.
Theo bit her lip to not give herself away.
“Pop-tarts?” Thor exclaimed, cocking his head to the side with curiosity. “Brother, I did not think you to be a fan of the Midgardian pastry.”
“I…” Loki trailed off, face falling as he unwrapped the rest of the box. “Interesting.”
Theo’s heart stuttered in her chest - what if he didn’t think to open the box? Would she give herself away if she said something? Oh god, he looked like a kicked puppy — she should have realized that he might take it wrong because Thor likes pop-tarts and he’s the popular brother, shitshitshit—
“Loki, maybe you should open the box,” Bruce suggested, “There’s a weird wrinkle by the cardboard seam that makes me think it was opened, then closed again.”
If it wouldn’t have given her away, Theo would have leapt to her feet and hugged the man for his suggestion.
“Yeah, that box looks like it has been messed with,” Sam agreed, “and I think everyone knows you hate pop-tarts.”
The kicked-puppy expression softened as Loki took a second look at the box and noticed the obvious tampering that Bruce and Sam pointed out. A hint of pink rose on Loki’s cheeks - if Theo didn’t know better, Loki looked almost embarrassed at the realization - but he went ahead and opened the box.
Theo held her breath, all of her attention trained on Loki as she waited for his reaction.
Peering into the box, Loki’s shoulders suddenly dropped and relief flooded his features; he reached in and retrieved a treat similar to a chocolate scone, as well as a second card.
“Pleased to report that I was mistaken; it appears the box is filled with a variety of homemade treats, as well as a second card.” He let out a soft, almost hesitant chuckle as he opened the note and read aloud:
“HA! Nearly got you, didn’t I?!” Loki laughed a second time, this time a little louder, and nodded his head. “You’ve pulled off some of the best pranks, but your Secret Santa is known for a good prank or two.
“Jokes aside, did you really think your Secret Santa would do that to you? Of course not - I know you have a discerning taste when it comes to sweet treats (far more discerning than your brother, of course)! These are some of my favorite holiday snacks from growing up; I think you’d like them too. If nothing else, I promise they taste better than pop-tarts.”
Loki returned the note to the box, then unwrapped the treat in his other hand. He took a bite, and his face almost immediately lit up. He chewed for a moment, then swallowed, and cleared his throat to speak.
“Well, mysterious Secret Santa,” he said, “I will confirm that this treat is quite divine. However, you best watch yourself– “ Looking around at their teammates, a dark, sinister grin curled over Loki’s face. “– I am known as the Trickster god for a reason, and you may very well have started a war.”
When Loki briefly locked eyes with Theo, her heart skipped a few beats; in just a few moments he went from beautiful to downright devilishly handsome, and his threat should not have been nearly as hot as it was.
Sweet baby Jesus, she needed to get her shit together.
“Any guesses on who it is?” Bucky asked, tapping his vibranium fingers along the side of his still-wrapped present.
“I’ve a few contenders,” Loki smoothly answered, the earlier signs of discomfort completely gone, “but I will wait to put forth any claims.”
“Who cares! The real question is are you gonna share!?” Shuri pointed at the pastry in Loki’s hand, then held out her own hand. “That looks amazing!”
“Maybe once the Secret Santa is revealed, they can bring us all some treats.” Wanda replied, though she gave Theo a pointed glance, to which Theo glared back - after all, she didn’t want Wanda to give her away. “But for now, I think Loki should get to enjoy all of his gifts.”
Loki, who was busy searching through the rest of the box, didn’t seem to notice Wanda staring at Theo.
Shuri glanced at Wanda, then at Theo, then grinned as she made the connection.
“Fine, but they better bring me some extras,” Shuri relented. “That thing looks amazing.”
Theo smiled and rolled her eyes, just in time for Steve to inform Wanda that it was her turn to open her gift.
Day three, though nearly a bust, worked out.
Only two more to go.
—
After the scare of the third day, Theo went into the fourth day feeling more comfortable about her gift. Sure, Loki may shrug at it, and there was a chance he wouldn’t use it. But at least she wouldn’t run the risk of upsetting him by making him believe his preferences were the same as his brother’s.
In some ways, the gift seemed particularly timely: a winter storm raged outside the tower, with howling winter winds and heavy snow that made sitting in the living room feel like they were inside a snowglobe. Even with the heat on and the fire roaring in the hearth, everyone bundled up in sweaters and plush blankets, sipping on mugs of cocoa and tea in between opening gifts.
On the fourth night, Loki’s turn to open his gift came even earlier. Similar to the first three nights, he inspected the box - small, slender, almost like a fancy box for a fountain pen.
After making quick work of the wrapping paper, he glanced at the lid of the box:
“Museum of Modern Art Design Store,” he read, then shrugged and removed the lid of the box.
Nestled among chic black packing material sat a stainless steel tea infuser. Its design was what drew Theo to the gift - long, slender, with a hook on the top for easy removal, it looked downright elegant. And with the amount of tea Loki drank, an upgrade to his usual steeping methods seemed like the perfect sort of gift - thoughtful and useful.
Loki hummed, carefully slipping the tea infuser out of its packaging and inspecting it. The stainless steel glowed beneath the Christmas lights and reflected the smile curling over Loki’s face. He twisted the cap off, then closed it again, nodding to himself as he set it aside and opened the card. Like the first three days, he read the message to the group:
“A tea infuser that combines form and function?! It’s almost as stylish as you are (almost)! As the resident tea expert on the team, it seemed only appropriate to give you something for making your favorite (non-alcoholic) drink - after all, you’ve brought me, your Secret Santa, more than a few drinks over the course of knowing each other!”
The hint, in Theo’s opinion, was almost painfully obvious; Loki brought Theo drinks all the time. Coffee at the hospital when he knew she had a long day. Whiskey or wine when she needed to unwind. Tea when it was late and neither of them could fall asleep. Water when Theo just used her inhaler and needed to rinse out her mouth. Throughout the entire time she had been an Avenger, Theo never saw Loki bring anyone else drinks quite so often - not Thor, not Wanda, not anyone. However, the clue made so much sense, and there was only one more day, so it wasn’t like she had to keep the secret for much longer.
What Theo didn’t account for, however, was almost every other person in the room making the connection between the clue and the identity of Loki’s Secret Santa. Over a dozen pairs of eyes all trained in on Theo as Loki glanced down to set the card and gift aside; the heat of their stares nearly made Theo lose her composure.
When Steve asked if Loki knew who his Secret Santa was, he simply smirked and replied “I’ve my suspicions, but I find I rather enjoy the suspense and anticipation of the grand reveal.”
Somehow, she held it together, but just barely. Sure, Theo was grateful that Loki seemed to enjoy the gifts up to that point, but “suspense and anticipation of the grand reveal?” If Theo was under pressure before, now she was on the verge of being crushed under the weight of expectation, and the whole damn team knew it.
Theo shot a terrified look at Wanda, who only sent back an impish grin.
Shit.
One more day to go.
—
The final day of Secret Santa arrived, and with it, the grand reveal. Apprehension loomed over Theo’s head like a storm-cloud; after all, the pressure was on - not only to give the perfect gifts, but to set up the perfect reveal as Loki’s secret Santa.
Despite the overall success of the first four days, by the time the last exchange began, Theo was too nervous to sit down. Instead, she leaned against the kitchen island with her mug of hot chocolate and whiskey clutched in both hands, offering little more than one-word answers whenever someone tried to ask her something. The only time she even considered sitting down was when Loki asked if she would join him on the couch, but then all the potential ways she might make a fool of herself flooded her thoughts and she politely declined, claiming that she needed to stretch her legs a bit.
If Theo didn’t know better, Loki seemed disappointed that she didn’t want to sit by him, but it was probably her mind playing tricks on her; after all, Theo was the one with the crush, not Loki.
At least from across the room, Theo could easily admire Loki in his thick, fair isle sweater - seasonally appropriate, of course, but like all of his attire, it fit him perfectly and highlighted his long, lithe form in all the right ways. Between her nerves about the gift and how distractingly handsome Loki was, she barely noticed when the first two Avengers opened their gifts and found out who was assigned as their Secret Santa.
For the final night of the exchange, Loki was the third person to open his gifts.
While Loki focused on the large box in front of him, everyone else stared at Theo. If she could have, she would have melted into the floor; instead, she stood by the kitchen island with her mug of hot chocolate and whiskey in both hands, shooting dirty looks at the rest of the group so they wouldn’t give her away.
… Not like Loki hadn’t already figured out that Theo was his Secret Santa, because he likely knew. If he didn’t know, he was about to figure it out, but that was beside the point.
Of all the gifts Theo chose, today’s were the most nerve-wracking because they were the most personal: the pre-reveal gift referenced something Loki gave her when she ended up in the hospital with an asthma exacerbation and pneumonia a few months prior. The post-reveal gift referenced the time all the Avengers visited New Asgard, and Loki took her on a late-night walking tour of the community.
The note on the card was, well, maybe a bit too sentimental - in hindsight, maybe she should have saved the message for a later card that she could have given him in private. But by that point the card was taped to the box in Loki’s lap, and Theo couldn’t do a damn thing about it, other than brace herself for the inevitable fallout.
At least she had the sense to write a disclaimer at the top of the note: “You might want to read this to yourself first, then decide if you want to read it out loud.”
After four days, Loki’s examination of the gift box had become a routine: turn it all around, lift it up in the air, give it a shake - and once he seemed satisfied, he peeled away the wrapping paper.
“Well, I do not have any guesses as to what is inside this box, so I suppose I ought to open it.” Loki remarked, tugging away the last bit of wrapping paper. He conjured a dagger to cut the tape sealing the flaps at the top of the box, though he was careful not to cut deeply and risk damaging the contents inside (which was good, because that dagger would have sliced through the gift like hot butter).
Unlike the previous days, where he immediately looked inside the container, this time he made a show of looking at the others as he reached inside. Theo watched Loki’s arm muscles tense through the wool of his sweater as he grabbed the gift, while his brows furrowed with confusion.
As he turned back toward the box, he slowly pulled out the present: a snake squishmallow, in green, of course - after all, green was his color.
“That’s cute!” Natasha commented, though Loki didn’t seem to notice. He held the plush toy in both hands, turning it side to side as he gave it a once-over. Theo swore she could spot the gears turning in Loki’s head as he tried to make the connection between the toy and his Secret Santa.
“Yeah, but why? I don’t see the connection.” Yelena added, pointing at the card. “Open the card. I want to know what it says.”
Loki slowly set aside the snake, as if still thinking about the gift, and pulled out the note.
Theo watched as Loki methodically scanned the note. At first, he read with heavy brows drawn tightly together; after a few moments, the light from the christmas tree reflected off his sea glass eyes, glittery and shining amidst the soft glow. A shaky, small smile grew as he made his way through the message until it practically took over his face.
“Well, what does it say?” Natasha asked, craning her neck to try and read what was written on the card.
Loki, however, ignored her. Without warning, he closed the card and rose to his feet. In a couple of long strides, he stood before Theo, who could no longer bite back her nervous smile as he drew near.
Theo barely had a chance to set down her mug before Loki scooped her into his arms and crushed her in an embrace, the strength of which forced a small “oof!” out of Theo from the impact. She didn’t waste a moment before returning the embrace, selfishly nuzzling into his chest and drinking in the scent of cologne on his sweater - cedar, bergamot, and smoke - as they stood, arms wrapped around each other and swaying gently from side to side.
Loki leaned down, his nose brushing gently along Theo’s hair, then drew a deep breath.
“Thank you,” he whispered in her ear. “Truly. Thank you.”
Theo’s heart damn near exploded.
“Elsa, I really hope that Rapunzel’s your Secret Santa,” Tony, ever the troll, interrupted, “or this is going to get awkward.”
“Yeah, Tony, it’s me.” Theo laughed, her mind reeling as Loki shifted - if Theo’s mind didn’t deceive her, his lips brushed against the crown of her hair. Still, he hadn’t let go, and as long as Loki held on, Theo had no plans of going anywhere.
“Now I wanna know what she wrote on that damn note,” Sam complained between shoving handfuls of caramel corn in his mouth. “Because damn, I don’t think I’ve ever seen Loki react like that.”
“Can we let him open the other gift first?” Theo asked, still hugging Loki as she looked over at Sam. “After all, there is a part of the message that won’t make sense without seeing the final gift.
“Fine, but afterwards I wanna read the damn note.” Sam grumbled and leaned back in his seat while Bucky leaned over and snatched some caramel corn from him.
Theo begrudgingly pulled away from Loki, silently lamenting the lack of warmth that came with his touch. She rounded the Christmas tree and crouched down to where she hid the final box - a thin, rectangular box that was a bit larger than a poster - and brought it over to Loki, who had returned to his original seat. Theo sat down beside him, nervous but excited to see how he reacted to the last gift.
This time, Loki didn’t spend a moment examining the package - he went straight to tearing off the wrapping paper. With paper crumpled up and tossed aside, he carefully slid the lid off the box.
Centered on a bed of white tissue paper, was a painting - a canvas covered in thousands of small dashes of paint, the result of more than a few sleepless nights as Theo raced to finish the painting on a tight deadline. During the day, Theo hid it beneath a stack of other canvases so if Loki stopped by her suite, he wouldn’t notice; the moment night fell, Theo was elbows deep in oil paint as she added layer after layer of color.
“It’s New Asgard!” Thor exclaimed as he peered over Loki’s shoulder.
“Those are the gardens…” Loki breathed, one hand hovering over the canvas as if he wanted to touch it and prove to himself that it was real.
“The gardens that you created, and that your people and countless tourists adore.” Theo added, her cheeks slightly pink.
Loki’s focus went to the bottom corner, where Theo scrawled her name. It was tiny and borderline illegible because of the paint, but if someone had ever seen her handwriting, they would know instantly who it was. Loki traced his fingers over the letters almost meditatively.
“You made this?” When Loki looked up at Theo, she caught the slightest shine in the corners of his eyes, though his expression was nothing but pure awe. “Was this from memory?”
“God, my memory isn’t that good - I mean, yeah I painted it, but it wasn’t from memory,” Theo rubbed the back of her next, heat rising on her cheeks as Loki continued to gape at her. “I got Val to send me some pictures for reference, and then I worked on it every night after everyone was asleep. I wasn’t sure it would be done in time, if I’m honest, because oil paint takes forever to dry, but it dried just in time. The paint is still going to need some time to fully cure, so I’d be gentle with it.”
For the second time in minutes, Loki pulled Theo into another heartfelt embrace.
“I am… I am speechless. I’ve no words, truly.” He laughed, a rumbling sound that Theo felt as much as she heard it. “Thank you.”
“Okay now we need to know what the hell was on that card.” This time it was Shuri, who looked like she was one step away from snatching the card and reading it out loud herself.
Loki unfurled his arms from around Theo so he could set the painting on the table in front of them, then retrieved the card.
“I think you ought to read it,” Loki held the card out to Theo, his cheeks now flushed with crimson. “I imagine it will sound better in your voice, since you wrote the message.”
Theo rolled her eyes, but accepted the card. She got the sense that Loki felt a bit sentimental himself, and was probably a bit out of his comfort zone; re-reading the message aloud might be more than he thought he could handle. So, despite her heart still fluttering like a goddamn school girl, Theo tried her best to steady her breathing, then cleared her throat and began:
One of Thor’s favorite stories to tell is when you were children and turned into a snake to trick him. One of my favorite things is watching the little smile you get every time he tells the story, like you know you shouldn’t think it’s funny and it makes the story even funnier. I bet you’re making that same smile right now as you think about the story!
This clue will probably give me away, but you once gave me a gift much like this - a plush toy of an unexpected creature, because you realized that the creature shared a connection to my sister. You didn’t make a big deal out of it - telling me you “happened to pass by a shop window and it just seemed like something I would like,” but it meant the world to me; to this day, it is easily the best gift I’ve ever received.
In many ways, that gift is such a great example of why I am so lucky to have you as a friend - you are so incredibly thoughtful and kind, and when you sense that someone is having a tough time you go above and beyond to help, all without making a big deal about it… God knows you did that for me constantly when I first got here! There are, obviously, other reasons that you’re an amazing friend (your sense of humor, intelligence, and patience in putting up with me are also high on the list).
I know none of my Secret Santa gifts have been big or flashy so far, and your final gift isn’t exactly big or flashy either. If I’m honest, I panicked when I drew your name because, well, what do you get someone who could have any gift they wanted? But the more I thought about it, the more I came back to just how lucky I was to have the gift of your friendship (yeah, corny as fuck, sorry - you’re the silvertongue, not me!). I can’t ever give you a gift that would compare, but I can at least make sure you know just how grateful I am for you and how much of a difference you make. Without a doubt, my life is better because you’re in it, as are the lives of many others.
So, for your final gift, I made you something that I hope will remind you of not just the impact you’ve made on me, but the impact you’ve made on countless others, every time you see it.
Merry Christmas Loki.
Yours,
Secret Santa.
P.S. I hope you can forgive my sentiment. Not all of us can be as cool as you.”
By the time Theo finished reading the message aloud, her entire body felt like it was on fire from the combination of her nerves and the others’ burning stares. With trembling hands, Theo slowly closed the card and set it on her lap, eyes focused downward the entire time.
“I didn’t realize it was possible to win at Secret Santa… ” Peter finally broke the silence, beaming as he looked at the pair. “... But I think Theo just won Secret Santa.”
“I think everyone’s going to want you as their Secret Santa next year,” Steve chuckled, nodding along. “Still, we aren’t done with this year’s Secret Santa - I believe Wanda, you’re up next?”
With that, the attention shifted away from the two sorcerers sitting side-by-side on the couch, and onto the rest of the festivities. While Wanda made a scene trying to deduce clues about her gift, Loki casually slipped his hand over to Theo, interlacing his fingers with hers. In turn, Theo leaned her head on Loki’s shoulder and settled into his side.
By that point, she was only-half watching as Wanda opened one last gift. Frankly, Theo hadn’t heard who Wanda’s Secret Santa was, but she wasn’t that interested.
“Merry Christmas, Loki,” Theo whispered, giving Loki’s hand a squeeze.
“Merry Christmas, Theo,” he murmured, turning so his lips brushed Theo’s temple. “I think this might be the first year that I’ve understood why one might enjoy Midgardians’ holiday festivities.”
Cozily tucked into Loki’s side, amidst the golden glow of the holiday lights and the spirited laughter of friends, Theo had to agree: maybe the holidays weren’t so bad after all.
#Loki#loki fanfiction#loki fluff#tooth-rotting fluff#tooth rotting fluff#holiday fic#christmas fic#christmas fluff#loki x ofc#mutually pining idiots
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title: my tears and my beers and my candles
pairing: francisco morales/female reader
rating: explicit (18+ MDNI)
word count: 3,515
chapters: 1/1
summary:
It’s been a bad week and you just need to have a good cry.
You didn’t expect Frankie Morales, best friend and your unrequited crush, to crash your pity party.
He’s got some interesting ways of making you feel better. Maybe it’s not so unrequited after all.
read on ao3 | masterlist
author’s note: my first foray into frankie morales! if you enjoyed this one, please consider leaving a comment or an unhinged series of tags if you reblog 💕
content warnings/additional tags: explicit sexual content (18+), mutual pining, friends to lovers, allusions to depression, crying, platonic cuddling (until it’s not), fingering, un protected p in v, mild breeding kink, praise kink, dirty talk, rough sex, choking. let me know if any are missing!
There’s something to be said about having a good cry. The release of too many emotions that have no other choice than to physically manifest, the exhaustion that inevitably comes after, the way your eyes ache and burn and your throat feels raw.
It’s all very cathartic.
At least, that’s what you’re telling yourself as you lay on the couch, a bottle of beer held loosely in your hand as the tears stream down your cheeks. There’s a bowl of popcorn on the floor and the TV screen flashes images of some action movie you’re not interested in. The only other light in the room is the flicker of a candle you lit, some fucked up way of making this feel more like self-care than self-sabotage.
There’s no one thing to blame for your little pity party. It’s just been a hell of a week. Between a call from your mom that ended in a heated argument and the constant bullshit at your bartending job, only to come home to a broken pipe and a shitty fucking landlord who won’t do anything about it until Monday because he doesn’t want to pay the premium weekend price, your emotions are at an all time high and you’re done trying to keep them bottled up.
Your phone keeps lighting up with texts on the coffee table but you can’t bring yourself to check it. You know it’s probably one of the guys.
The boys of Delta Force waltzed into the bar one Friday evening a year ago and you haven’t been able to shake them since. Not that you’d want to. Your life has definitely improved since their chaotic entrance.
Especially where Francisco Morales was involved.
With his stupid boyish charm and his stupid handsome face and his stupid kind smile. God. He drives you insane. He’s the quiet observer of the group of men, his keen brown eyes always assessing the room around him. The feel of them is like fire across your skin when he turns his attention to you.
The tears keep flowing at the thought of him, of how a year of close friendship has only made you crave the man more with no respite in sight. Sometimes you’ll wake up with his name on your lips and an ache in your core that your fingers can’t satisfy.
It’s pathetic, really. Perhaps that’s why you continue to cry.
Between the explosions on the screen and the muffled whimpering, you don’t hear the knocking at your door. Or the turn of the lock and quiet click of the door to your apartment opening.
“Querida?”
________
After waiting a few minutes for you to answer the door, he decides to use the key you had given him when he looked after your plants one weekend to let himself in.
No wonder you couldn’t hear him knocking. The TV is so loud it almost hurts Frankie’s ears, which is saying a lot given his time spent in gun ranges and helicopters and war zones.
“Querida?” He calls. When you don’t answer, he wanders further into your apartment.
He’s surprised to find you curled up on the couch, knees drawn up to your chest, eyes squeezed shut and shoulders shaking with your soft cries.
“Shit,” he murmurs, picking his hat up to run a hand through his hair. This would explain why you haven’t been answering his texts.
He sets his hat on the coffee table beside your phone and grabs the remote while he’s at it to turn the volume down, which finally gets your attention.
Your eyes pop open, bloodshot with tears still clinging to your lashes. “Fish?”
“Shh,” Frankie shushes, grabbing onto the back of the couch and climbing in carefully behind you.
“Wha—“
“It’s okay, baby, I’ve got you,” he whispers. He wraps his arms around your waist. He presses his nose into your hair, breathing in your scent as you continue to shake against him. “You’re okay.”
It takes a moment for your cries to subside, but Frankie’s got all the time in the world where you’re concerned. The shaking of your shoulders turns into the rise and fall of deep, even breaths. The tension in your muscles eases and you relax back into the cradle of his body at your back.
Frankie lifts his head to peek at you over your shoulder. Your face has gone soft with sleep, eyelashes casting shadows on your cheeks and lips parted slightly. He brings a hand to your forehead to smooth your hair back, fingers lingering on the soft skin of your cheek.
His heart constricts in his chest. The same painfully tight feeling he gets anytime he so much as looks at you.
The first time he met you was after one of Benny’s fights. Having won, the younger man was feeling particularly obnoxious by the time they’d all made it to the bar for his celebration.
“Tequila shots!” Benny shouted, slamming his palm on the bar. “I’m buyin’!”
You raised an eyebrow at him, head tilted as you said, “You wanna try that again, buddy?”
“With lime?” Benny asked. You smirked.
Santi smacked Benny on the back of the head. “Cabrón. Forgive him. He’s been hit in the head too many times. Tequila shots, please.”
Frankie watched you line up the shot glasses with practiced ease. How you picked a top shelf bottle and shot a withering stare at Benny when he’d started to protest. You placed the shots in front of them, along with a plate of limes and two salt shakers. A shot glass remained with you.
“Cheers, boys,” you said, tossing back the extra shot before you wrapped your lips around a lime wedge.
Frankie remembers the way your eyes caught his as you sucked on the fruit. He also vividly remembers wanting to know what your lips would look like wrapped around his cock.
Your take-no-shit attitude worked for the group of army vets. They adopted the bar as their own and Frankie looked forward to seeing you after Benny’s fights.
Then fight nights turned into barbecues at Will’s house. Then movie nights at Santi’s. Or football at Frankie’s. And each time you burrowed yourself deeper and deeper into Frankie’s heart.
But Frankie valued your friendship above all else. He appreciated the way you would sit quietly beside him when he was feeling overwhelmed. How you would squeeze his hand when it got a little shaky. Or when you would tell him some stupid joke when he got too far into his own head.
It’s only right that he returns the favor.
________
The first thing you notice when you wake up is how dark your apartment is. The TV is off and your candle has burnt itself down in the glass, a struggling ember in a pool of wax.
You try to sit up, only to encounter an unfamiliar weight around your waist. When you look down, you can just make out a familiar tan arm nestled just beneath your breasts.
It’s then that you realize the overwhelming warmth at your back isn’t a blanket, it’s Frankie. He’s wedged himself between the couch and your body, his long frame curled around yours, his other arm stretched above his head and acting as his pillow.
You blink the sleep and the ache away from your eyes, but he’s still there. He’s asleep, quiet snores rumbling from his throat. You turn slowly in his arms to face him.
His eyes flutter open as you settle back against him, your movement having jostled him awake. His arm tightens on your waist.
“Hey,” he whispers, voice rough with sleep. You swallow nervously and as he assesses you, eyes roving your face. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” you whisper back.
“You wanna talk about it?”
Your eyes flick to his lips. “Not really.”
There’s a moment of stillness as he appears to consider your words. His hand on your back slides up, broad palm settling between your shoulder blades and pushing you slightly closer.
His eyes search yours for any sign of doubt. You lean your forehead to his, lips so close now you’re sharing the same breath.
“Frankie,” you murmur. You can feel the tiny shiver that wracks his body. Pressed this close, there’s nowhere to hide. “Please kiss me.”
His lips press to yours, slightly chapped but so warm. His hand leaves your back to grip your thigh, hitching your leg up over his hip to bring you closer. Your tongue traces his bottom lip, seeking entrance and having it granted with fervor.
Frankie groans, hips pressing against yours, as your tongue slides against his. You can feel him start to harden as your pussy drags against him, the sensation better each time.
The kiss is messy, your movements uncoordinated in your desperation. His hand traces over any inch of your body it can reach, from your thighs and ass to your waist and tits.
“Are you sure?” Frankie asks as he draws back for air. His brows are pinched together with worry and that just won’t do.
“I’m so fucking sure, Francisco.”
______
Never before has his name sounded as fucking good as it does falling from your lips tonight. He leans in to lick it from your mouth, swallowing the little moan he pulls from you.
He slides a hand between your bodies to cup your pussy, the heat of you palpable through your thin leggings. You tilt your head back with a sigh and Frankie takes the invitation to lick and kiss and bite up your neck.
“Fuck, Frankie,” you whine, fingers clenching into the fabric of his t-shirt. “Touch me.”
“Am touchin’,” he bites back. “You want more, pretty girl?”
You nod your head so fast he can’t help but chuckle. He works his fingers past the elastic of your leggings and panties, circling your clit with slow broad swipes.
“Christ, you’re so wet. All this just for me?” He dips a finger lower, barely breaching you. You react with a high pitched whine, hips flexing in his grip.
He slides a finger into your tight heat, groaning at the squeeze of you around the digit. He pumps it slowly, watching your face as he does. Your eyes are squeezed shut, lips parted on breathy little sighs.
He’s never seen a more gorgeous sight.
Frankie adds another finger, crooking them as he drags them out of you. His thumb continues to swirl around your clit and he dips his head to your neck to lick and suck and bite the perfect skin calling out to be marked as his.
“Come on, baby, ride my fingers, yeah? You wanna use ‘em?” He says, the flexing and rolling of your hips against his hand picking up speed.
“Please, Frankie, I wanna cum,” you whine. The flush in your cheeks is the prettiest color.
“Then come for me,” he all but begs.
He can feel it when you finally reach your peak. The fluttering of your cunt around his fingers, the desperate way your body tries to keep him drawn into your warmth. He’s never felt anything better.
Frankie withdraws his fingers and you grab his hand, sucking them into your mouth. He groans, hips flexing involuntarily.
“Baby, you can’t do shit like that,” he says, pulling his fingers from your mouth and wrapping his hand behind your neck to tug your lips to his.
“Will you fuck me now?” You ask between breaths. “Please? Want your cock so bad.”
“It’s all yours, sweetheart.”
_______
You roll off the couch with little grace, flopping heavily to the floor. Frankie’s deep laughter settles over you like a warm blanket, the sound abruptly cutting off when you’ve stood and ripped your sweatshirt over your head.
Your nipples tighten in the cool air of your apartment. You can barely see Frankie in the darkness but you can feel his eyes running over your body, hot like a brand. He shifts on the couch, sitting up with his legs splayed wide.
You hook your thumbs into your leggings, tugging them down your legs and leaving you standing in front of him in your black thong. His hand reaches for you, fingers digging into your hip to drag you between his legs.
“Hermosa,” he whispers reverently. He kisses your tummy, right above where the elastic of your panties. You can see the glimmer of his eyes in the dark as he looks up at you.
You wrap your hands over his, drawing them up your body until his thumbs graze the underside of your breast. You’re obsessed with the gentle way he holds you, knowing the power he has simmering beneath an unassuming surface.
The guys have shared a number of stories with you about their time serving during your year of friendship. Mostly the funnier ones, like the time Benny fly was busted on his pants and he had to run drills constantly picking them up from around his ankles. Or the time Santi got left behind on a mission because he got his dick wet and didn’t get up on time for the convoy.
But sometimes you would get the grittier stories. They’re spec ops, after all. They got called in when no other team would suffice. You know Frankie has killed men, scope locked on a target and the kickback of a rifle bruising his shoulder. The same hands gliding across your skin have wrapped around throats until their final breath eases from their lungs.
But as they trail over you, all you feel is your Frankie. The man who buys your favorite candy for movie nights and makes sure there’s a pack of your favorite turkey burgers at the cook outs.
He pinches a nipple, tugging gently as your back arches to the touch. His lips wrap around the other, tongue flicking over the hard peak. Your breath stutters, coming in harsh pants as he switches sides. Your fingers tangle in his messy brown curls, tugging lightly and making him groan.
You’re running out of patience. You tug your panties down your legs and kick them to the side, leaving yourself completely nude between Frankie’s legs.
“Pants off, Morales,” you demand. You notice the well loved cap he always wears on the table. You pick it up and settle it on your head, giving him a cheeky grin. “Shirt, too.”
Frankie pulls his shirt over his head, tossing it behind the couch. He undoes his fly with uncoordinated hands, lifting his hips from the cushions to pull them down, along with his boxers. His cock bobs against his stomach, hard and flushed and leaking at the tip. You climb into his lap, dragging your wet slit over the hot length of him.
“Fuck,” he growls. You feel that coiled strength in him in the way his fingertips press bruises into your hips as you grind against him. He digs a hand into your hair and uses the leverage to drag your lips to his, the kiss a messy meeting of lips and tongues and teeth that lights up every nerve ending. “You ready to take me? Ready for my cock?”
“So fucking ready,” you moan.
“Then take it, baby, come on,” he says, reaching down to hold his cock steady. You position yourself over the thick head, beginning a slow slide down his length, the stretch of him making you groan even with the prep his fingers afforded you. “That’s it, baby, good girl. Take your time, there’s nowhere I’d rather be than right here in your pretty pussy.”
Your cheeks heat with his words, the praise settling over you like a blanket, making everything soft and cloudy in your head. You finally settle against his lap, his cock buried so deep you have to catch your breath at the sensation.
Frankie’s hands smooth across your back soothingly as you adjust. You lean forward, pressing a kiss to the spot in his beard that never grows despite all his efforts. You let your lips trail down his neck, teeth nipping the soft skin as you flex your hips experimentally.
It’s just a little movement, but it’s enough to grind your sensitive clit against the coarse hair at the base of his cock. One of his broad palms holds the back of your head tenderly while the other grips your ass tightly, urging you to move again.
You start off with a slow grind, Frankie’s head dropping to the back of the couch with a moan as you build up to a rhythm that has you seeing stars and has a litany of filth falling from Frankie’s lips.
“God, just like that. Riding my cock like such a good fucking girl for me.”
“Look at you, making a mess in my lap. Prettiest girl, just a puddle for me, huh?”
“Your body was made for me, wasn’t it, princesa?”
Each one filthier than the last, your own responses reduced to slurred words and moans of appreciation. You’re bouncing on his lap with fervor now, so close to the edge that your muscles are painfully tight in anticipation of your release.
“Come for me. Please, baby? Wanna see you come on my cock, been dreaming of it forever,” Frankie moans as he leans forward, both arms wrapped around your back as he sinks his teeth into the plush skin of your breast.
That’s all it takes. Frankie asking so sweetly for you to come for him, like every fantasy you’ve had about the man only better. You keep still on his lap with him buried as deep as he can be, pussy pulsing rhythmically around him as your orgasm washes over you.
You collapse against his chest and his hips flex beneath you, working you through the aftershocks. When your breathing has returned to something closer to normal, he urges you off his lap and onto your knees on the cushions, your elbows propping you up on an arm rest.
You look back at the man over your shoulder as he keeps a knee on the couch but plants a foot on the ground for leverage before thrusting back inside of you, punching the air from your lungs as your sensitive walls accept his length once more.
“Do you know how many times you’ve teased me with this ass?” He asks, gripping one cheek roughly as he continues to thrust into you. “Those goddamn jeans you wear to work, where anyone can see you, hugging your ass so pretty I just wanted to rip ‘em off.”
“Frankie,” you moan, fingers curling against the upholstery. “Harder, please. Don’t hold back, I can take it.”
His fingers flex on your hips. “Are you sure, baby? I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Please,” you beg.
________
That tether of control Frankie’s been trying to keep snaps. He fists your hair roughly, tugging you up until your bowed back presses to his chest. He slips a hand around the base of your throat, holding you to him with the possessive grip as he thrusts his hips roughly against yours.
It’s not going to take him long to come, not when he’s got your pliant body at his mercy and your desperate moans by his ear. He grits his teeth, slamming into you with all the force he can muster, with all the power he wants as you just take it like you were made to.
“I’m gonna cum,” he groans. “Where—“
“Inside, inside, please,” you beg, reaching a hand back and digging your fingers into his ass as it flexes with his frenzied thrusts. “Want you to fill me up, mark me up, ruin me. Please, Frankie?”
His release hits him like a goddamn freight train and he comes with a shout, holding your hips tight to his as he finishes inside you, the wet heat of him slipping out as he thrusts shallowly inside of you as his orgasm subsides.
Frankie releases you gently, pulling out and helping you lay on your back, your head propped up near the armrest. He collapses on top of you, pillowing his head against your breasts and nuzzling the sweat slick skin.
You run your fingers through his hair, the two of you quiet as you catch your breath. Part of him is waiting for the fall out, waiting for your muscles to go tense beneath him with uncertainty.
But it doesn’t come. You just keep carding your fingers through his hair, nails scratching his scalp and the cadence of your heartbeat beneath his ear easing his worries.
“You feeling better?” He asks.
Your chest shakes with laughter beneath him. When he lifts his head to look at you, you flash him a bright smile.
“I don’t even remember what I was upset about anymore. I think you fucked the sadness right out of me,” you say with a giggle.
“Anything for you,” he replies easily.
Your eyes go all soft as your eyes search his. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
There’s a beat of comfortable silence before you speak up again.
“Hey, Frankie?” You ask.
“Yes?”
“What do you know about plumbing?”
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Dincember Day 1: Snow
Din Djarin x GN!Reader
Word Count: 4825
Rating: General
Content warnings: None!
Summary: After a busy few months working for the New Republic, Din surprises you and Grogu with a well-earned retreat to a snowy paradise in the run up to Life Day. Snow-filled chaotic fluff and fun ensues!
Author's note: This one sort of spiralled out of control in terms of word count and I did research into SW lore which I doubt I'll do every day, but I enjoyed it! I love browsing Wookieepedia like a big ol' nerd. The city visited is from a video game and the entry can be found here if anyone is interested in that kind of thing. Anyway, hope you enjoyed day one and thanks for reading :D
Link to read on AO3 | My Dincember Masterlist
When Din told you to pack warm clothes for a mystery destination, you were curious about what exactly laid in store on the upcoming trip he had been carefully planning for the two of you to take with Grogu. It had been a busy few months for Din, his frequent assignments with the New Republic, where he was tasked with eliminating Imperial remnants, had kept him away from you for considerable periods. Recently, whispers of Thrawn’s return had swirled and eventually reached fever pitch. The rumours terrified you, but you knew that with someone like Din working to keep the peace, the fate of the galaxy could not be in safer hands. Nor could your future, as it happened. With Din by your side, you felt a sense of security that was incredibly comforting. You knew regardless of what he had planned for you, a surprise trip like this after such a stressful period was an incredibly thoughtful gesture from a thoroughly kind man.
Life Day was rapidly approaching and Din had promised to whisk you away for a trip somewhere in the galaxy. Where exactly, you did not know. But if you had to hazard a guess, you would not be heading to the deserts of Tatooine, given his instructions to pack for chilly climes. You eagerly bounced around the small cabin the two of you shared on Nevarro, packing your warmest clothes. The warm climate of the lava-covered planet you now called home meant that you had to search the deepest depths of your drawers, but eventually you found hats, scarves and warm woolly mittens that would be perfect for cold weather.
Your entire body was buzzing with excitement as you packed your bag, eagerly anticipating the quality time you would get to spend with Din and Grogu. Din had made it clear when the two of you had met, that the very nature of his line of work would be unpredictable and keep him away from you for long periods at short notice. You knew he hated the fact that his work kept him away from you so frequently just as much as you did, so, you reasoned, there was no point in making him feel guilty. With this trip, you knew that he was more than going to make up for it. You felt slightly guilty about how much you were sure he would spoil you with some of the credits he had earned. But Din Djarin was not remotely materialistic man; the safety and happiness of his loved ones mattered far more to him than any wealth he could accumulate.
So, as you headed out of your cabin the following morning and departed in the ship Din had borrowed from Greef Karga to accomodate you too - his N-1 was too small - you were practically bursting from excitement. But that excitement soon faded once the realities of travelling through the monotiny that was a seemingly never-ending hyperspace dawned upon you. Once the thrill of seeing the rushing blue and white hues outside the window had worn off, you found yourself thoroughly bored. Grogu was sound asleep in the corner of the cockpit, so for entertainment, you decided to interrogate Din in an attempt to ascertain hints as to your destination.
"So… it's cold…?" You mused. Din sat in the seat next to you, his armour illuminated by the multicoloured buttons of the various control panels, "Outer-Rim?" You questioned, watching for any signs that your words were having an impact.
But he did not move an inch, his arms remained folded, his breathing even. This man was impossible to read. But you were not going to give up.
"Fine… Mid-Rim?" You asked.
"I told you. It's a surprise," Din huffed.
You chuckled at how annoyed he sounded. It wasn't as though narrowing down the vast regions to several thousand planets rather than several hundred thousand would make much of a difference. But Din was stubborn. And you loved him for it. You had intended to continue pestering him, but you listened in astonishment when, a few minutes later, you heard the even breaths that indicated your favourite Mandalorian had fallen asleep. You weren't far behind him. It passed the time, after all.
After a long day of travelling you finally arrived at your destination, a place Din informed you once he had landed that was, in fact, the capital of Corellia: the bustling Coronet City.
You had been slightly confused about Din’s instructions to pack for the cold when you exited the ship in Coronet City. You did not see snow or any indication of frigid temperatures. But you couldn't dawdle to muse on it because you had to keep up with Din in the crowd.
As the two of you made your way through the spaceport, you put your hand out as if to offer a hand to Din to help with the heavy bags he was carrying, containing the warm clothes you had packed for the trip. But rather than hand one of the bags to you, your stubborn Mandalorian grunted and shifted the weathered satchel to his other hand. You were momentarily confused; you opened your mouth, intending to offer him a hand. But then you felt the explanation. Your heart melted when you felt the pillowy leather of his well-worn gloves as he held your hand in his. The warm presence of his large hand caused a shiver to spread down your spine.
You looked down at the little green child who nestled happily in your arms; Grogu was taking in all the new sights and sounds with his wide brown eyes and long green ears. So, you decided to take a look around for yourself. You noticed how underdressed everyone appeared to be, compared to what you had been expecting. The planet did not seem to be nearly so chilly as to make the warm clothes you had packed necessary. As if he could sense your confusion, Din finally informed you of his plans.
“If you hadn't already gathered, Coronet City isn’t actually our final stop,” Din explained as the two of you walked through the busy terminus, weaving between locals and tourists alike who had travelled to Corellia for the holiday season. The planet seemed to be at capacity. You were glad you were holding hands with Din, so the two of you did not get separated. “We’re heading up to the mountains. I thought it would be nice for Grogu to experience some snow. Since Nevarro has such a warm climate, it seemed like the perfect place.”
“Oh, Din… that sounds perfect.” You smiled up at him, “Grogu will love it, won’t you, buddy?” You took Grogu’s purr as you leaned down to address him directly as an indication that the child agreed. Din squeezed your hand tightly, appreciative that you were seemingly so excited by his plans.
You had no idea where you were heading, following Din’s lead as you placed your trust in him entirely, just as you always did. Excitement was not the only emotion you felt, though. There was the smug part of you, too, enjoying the assured feeling you had that, no matter how many heads this Mandalorian in his gleaming, unpainted beskar’gam was turning in this spaceport… that he was all yours. And yours alone.
Eventually, you seemingly reached the platform from which you would board the shuttle as Din led you off the main hall of the spaceport, ascending steps to the landing platform. At the top of the stairs was a screen which gave you the name of your final destination: Doaba Guerfel. The name meant nothing to you, but you had no time to dwell on it as Din dropped your hand and struggled with the heavy bags through the shuttle's door.
“I would have helped you, you know,” You informed Din with a smirk. He finally took a seat after placing the luggage on a shelf above the seats. “Rather than you struggling along with those heavy bags because we were holding hands.”
“I know.” Din nodded, “But I’ll never not want to hold your hand.”
Your heart melted for the second time in quick succession. How could this man, known throughout the galaxy for the ruthlessness with which he had once apprehended bounties and now applied those same talents in his work for the New Republic, actually be this soft and caring underneath that hard, Beskar shell? You didn’t think there was anyone else in the galaxy quite like Din Djarin. You were certain of that, in fact.
You passed Grogu to Din and felt yourself smile at his happy coo. The child sat contentedly on his father's lap, peering out of the window as the shuttle departed and flew over the buildings of Coronet City and towards the mountains that loomed on the horizon. You were still some distance away, but you could see that they were covered in snow. You felt your stomach dancing with excitement; it looked like a secluded paradise. Which, as it transpired, was exactly what this town – nestled amongst mountains – was. Din was always so curious about the galaxy around him, respectful and eager to learn about other planets and their language and culture. So of course, it made sense that he had done research when selecting this destination.
“Our destination, as you probably gathered, is a quaint mountainous town called Doaba Guerfel… The mountains you can see are called the Nomad Mountains and the town itself used to be known as Nomad’s Retreat. It’s incredibly secluded, so I thought it would be a perfect retreat for our little family,” Din explained, gesturing out of the window to the mountains the shuttle was hurtling towards. “The town invests heavily in restoration and protection of the wilderness around here. Apparently, the flora and fauna found here in such an abundance that is rare anywhere else throughout the galaxy. I doubt we'll be able to see much given the time of year. But I thought it was nice that the residents here care about their surroundings.”
“It looks beautiful from here already. I can’t wait to explore it with you.” You said, smiling at Din and admiring the way the whiteness of the sky outside made his helmet so dazzlingly shiny.
“We’re renting a small cabin on the outskirts of the town.” Din said, as he turned to face you, adding honestly: “The locals here really tried to keep it as a safe haven from the rest of the galaxy, where others can come to rest and escape. I hope it’ll be the quiet, peaceful retreat that we both need.”
“I’m sure it will be, Din.” You nodded, “It sounds like you’ve put a great deal of thought into planning this for us. Thank you.”
“Anything for you, mesh’la. Apparently, it is the finest resort in all of Corellia,” Din said, reaching out to take your hand in his once again. He squeezed it, as he told you solemnly: “And you deserve only the finest things in the galaxy for putting up with me, with the stress and demands of being with someone like me.”
You were about to open your mouth to protest, that being with Din was not settling in any way. But you were prevented from doing so as the unmistakable robotic drone of a droid suddenly sounded through the cabin, informing passengers that you were approaching Doaba Guerfel. You looked over at Din, noticing the subtle way his fist had clenched around Grogu. Din’s disdain for droids was something that you had not understood when you had first met him, but now you were aware of his past… you had nothing but the deepest sympathy for him.
As you stepped off the shuttle and onto the frozen ground, your lips couldn’t help but curve into a slight smile. The crunch of the snow underneath your feet would never fail to bring back a childlike sense of wonderment inside you that seemed to have dwindled over the years. But that appreciation for the smallest things that you had thought lost as you grew older, was now being awakened once more, after having the privilege to see so much of the galaxy through Grogu’s eyes. It was like seeing everything for the first time, as you monitored the little boy’s wide brown eyes and expressions to check that he was enjoying himself. Fortunately, it seemed as though he was. Grogu seemed absolutely content as the three of you made your way down the main street of Doaba Guerfel.
The buildings were covered in lights and, combined with the dusting of snow that seemed present on every surface, it was the perfect winter scene. When Din informed you that you had arrived on Corellia, you had found yourself slightly disappointed. It was a name you were familiar with, most people had heard of the vast shipyards and subsequent fighter pilots that this planet located in the Core Worlds had produced over the years. You associated it with machinery, industrialisation… not natural beauty. But aside from those assumptions, you knew scant details of the planet.
Even if you had, nothing could have prepared you for the beauty of the picturesque mountain town that Din had chosen to bring you to.
You continued enjoying the sights until your earlier assumptions about Grogu’s contentment were shattered as an opporunity to beg for food arised. The three of you were walking towards a vendor situated at the side of the street. Whatever they were smelling had a sweet, enticing aroma and, right on cue, Grogu whined and reached his little arms out towards the stall. As you approached the throng of people waiting to get their hands on the sweet treat, you noticed they were hot Corellian Ryshcate. You had never had these particular delicacies before, but they appeared to be pastries of some kind.
You stopped at the side of the street so you and Grogu could enjoy the flaky pastries - Din would eat later, given that he was waiting for the privacy of the cabin you would be staying in to remove his helmet. As you took your first bite of the Ryshcate, your mouth was suddenly transported to a rich, indulgent heaven of sugary, buttery goodness. There were nuts and fruits baked into the flaky layers and you hummed contentedly as you savoured the sweet treat.
“Is it good?” Din asked, shifting his weight awkwardly from one leg to the other as he waited, excluded due to his Creed from this simple pleasure. You knew he would not have it any other way though. It didn't stop you, though, from wishing sometimes, for his own sake above all else, that he could join in and live more freely.
“Delicious, Din.” You said, bringing your hand to your mouth as you replied so you did not inadvertently cover him in a storm of pastry flakes. “We can come back and get some tomorrow, perhaps, take them back to the cabin?” You suggested, it would be a shame for him to miss out.
“Sure,” Din nodded, “I think Grogu would like that too.”
You giggled as you noticed that the Ryshcate that had been in Grogu’s hands seconds before was now nowhere to be seen. It was larger than his head, but that had not prevented the little boy with the voracious appetite from gulping down the pastry despite its warmth and size. Once you had also finished your Ryshcate, you continued making your way down the street, Din’s hand finding yours again despite the bags… you just shook your head affectionately at his stubbornness. As you took in the sights and sounds before you, you didn’t think that Din could have picked out a better place for you to visit. Everything from the scenery, to the festive, relaxing atmosphere was exactly what you had been hoping for. You were pleased that Din had told you a little about the history of this place on your journey here. Now that you were actually here, walking around Doaba Guerfel, you could appreciate it fully.
As you made your way further down the street, Din finally allowed you to carry your bag so he could hold Grogu. The extra weight of the bag and the exertion caused you to notice how your breath was hanging in front of you like a little cloud. The air was crisp and The Mandalorian next to you looked impossibly handsome in the environment. Given that he was still in his armour, it was quite a feat, but you loved him in his beskar’gam as much as you loved him out of it. The white snow that touched every corner of this secluded mountain paradise, caused the armour to dazzle. Din's presence was attracting more than a few eyes. But with one strong hand in yours and another arm holding Grogu protectively, it was clear that this particular Mandalorian already had a Clan of his own.
Towards the end of the main street, Din guided you down one of the side streets. There were various establishments of all kinds; from diners and cantinas and small family run businesses selling toys and antiques. Most of them had intricate window displays for Life Day and it seemed as though every corner of this town had been touched by festive cheer. It was infectious, you couldn’t stop smiling as you walked down the street at Din’s side.
At the end of the street, there was a footbridge which took you across the mountains to the next peak. Wherever Din was taking you seemed to be as far out of the town as one could get, but it made sense given Din’s need for privacy if he were to remove his helmet and relax on this trip. After walking across several similar smaller bridges – the place was somewhat of a maze and you wondered how Din was keeping track – you eventually reached the cabin that was to be your home for the next few days.
The cabin was made out of dark brown wood, with a dusting of white snow on the roof. It looked unbelievably cozy and welcoming, especially given the landscape that surrounded the cabin. The array of flora that Din had promised were here could be found in the trees dotted around the cabin. It was an idyllic escape, nestled between the Nomad Mountains on all sides. After entering your secluded cabin and unpacking a few items from bags - including your warmest coat, hat, scarf and gloves - you helped Grogu dress in a new coat that Din had purchased for this trip, before you took him outside. You had intended to help him to build a snow-wookiee while you waited for Din to change into something more suited for enjoying the snowy environment than his armour. The privacy afforded by this secluded cabin meant that Din could remove his helmet. You couldn’t wait to see him in his dressed down, relaxed form out here in this safe haven.
The sun was beginning to set, bathing the sky in a beautiful collection of oranges and reds. You willed Din to hurry up, you didn't want him to miss something as stunning. In the time you had spend appreciating the sunset, you found that your plans to help Grogu in building a snow-wookiee were to be unrealised. Before you could even begin gathering snow with the shovel that lay propped against the dark wooden exterior of the cabin for him to play with, the mischievous little boy had used the Force to build an enormous, fully formed snow-wookiee.
“Grogu, that’s cheating,” You said, crossing your arms and shaking your head at him, a wide smile on your face.
“Muh?” Grogu responded, almost offended that you weren’t impressed with his handiwork.
You heard the door of the cabin open behind you and turned around to finally lay eyes upon your favourite Mandalorian. Bathed in the fading golden light, he was mesmerising. Din was wearing a thick red coat, with a material that would protect him from all the elements in contrast to your more fashionable woollen one. He still had his gloves on, too. It was the only part of him familiar to the way he was dressed when you had arrived at the cabin. Din stood there, surveying the scene before him with the prowess of the trained hunter he was. He smiled softly when his eyes met yours. You knew your face had lit up when you had seen him, it was impossible for you not to react to his warm brown eyes, you saw your expression mirrored in his, especially when he looked around and appreciated Grogu’s snow-based creation.
“Great job, kid!” Din said proudly as he strode towards the two of you. He picked Grogu up and brought him close. Grogu cooed and reached out to place his hand on his father’s cheek, his way of giving his seal of approval that Din had removed his helmet.
It was a touching sight. But you had plans to disrupt the peace as you bent down and scooped fistfuls of snow, moulding them into a sphere. Without any warning, you lobbed the snowball in the direction of Din. You had truly only intended to hit him on the side of his head, but your aim was so poor that you inadvertently hit him square in the face. The warm brown eyes that you had enjoyed gazing into only moments before were the first feature of Din’s to be visible again, as he blinked away the snow that had coated his entire face.
“Oh, you’ll pay for that,” Din said, voice low as he set Grogu down.
You yelped and began to run away from him, but you didn’t make it far, before Din grabbed you by the wrist and brought his snow-covered glove to your face, coating your face in snow just as his had been covered moments earlier.
“Okay, okay! I’m sorry!” You panted, breathless with laughter as you brought your hands to your face to wipe the snow away.
“Truce?” Din asked as he released his hand from your wrist and placed it on your waist, pulling you close to him. You looked down at his lips, so warm and inviting. It would be so easy to give in to what your heart wanted and kiss him. But he had played dirty, grabbing you and forcing his hand to your face like that.
“No way!” You exclaimed as you wriggled from his embrace and squatted down to sculpt another snow-based missile.
Din shook his head, laughing at you as you hurled another snowball at him. He retaliated in kind, catching you square in the jaw. You continued like that for a few more minutes, forgetting all about the actual child who was sitting quietly a few feet away in the snow, watching the pair of you fight like children. A snowball fight seemed like a good idea, but the two of you had apparently forgotten about the abilities of the child you adored.
It was the sound of a giggle a few feet away that reminded you that you and Din were not alone here. In all your horseplay, Grogu was being neglected. You were about to apologise, scoop him up and help him make some snowballs of his own. But the kid had other ideas. The sight of his little head, a tiny green dot against the white snow that was still as bright despite the fading light, was the last sight you saw before everything became a snowy white haze. Suddenly, every part of your body was being pummelled by snowballs.
“What the–” You started, wondering how it was possible for snowballs to be made and thrown with the speed they were right then.
“GROGU!” Din bellowed. His mind had been quicker to recall the abilities with the Force that his son possessed, abilities that were helping him thoroughly destroy two grown adults in this impromptu snowball fight. “STOP! THAT'S CHEATING!”
After a few more moments, Grogu finally relented, clapping his hands together in glee. As your vision returned, you noticed the way both you and Din were covered head to toe in snow… your faces barely visible amongst the carnage. Din’s thick coat certainly did a better job of protecting him from the elements than your own garment, which seemed woefully inadequate in comparison. There should have been something slightly humiliating about being beaten by a child, but all you could think about was the way Din’s cheeks were slightly rosy. How his smile dazzled against the brilliant white snow. His presence was magnetic… you could stare at him forever.
“I’ll make you pay for that, you little womp rat!” Din said playfully as he charged towards Grogu, who squealed in delight and tried to make a break for it from Din. Alas, his legs were too little and Din soon caught up to him, scooping him up with a motion that sent both of them tumbling to the ground.
You laughed at the sight and made your way over to them. Din placed Grogu on his knee and began passing him little bits of snow, whispering to him and instructing him how to make a snowball fairly, rather than with the Force. But rather than a sweet father and son bonding moment, it transpired that your boys were actually conspiring against you. Grogu pitched the little snowballs at you with stunning accuracy as each hit your cheeks. You stumbled dramatically, falling to the snow face down beside them and closing your eyes, as though mortally wounded.
“Wake up, cyare!” Din said playfully. “Oh no, Grogu… what did you do?”
Grogu whined in response.
“I think, perhaps, a kiss is needed?” Din said lightly.
The feeling of firstly Din’s warm breath washing over yours, and then his soft lips gently meeting yours meant, once he pulled away, the grin that was on your face shattered the illusion for Grogu, who was now staring at the two of you curiously. Even if you had wanted to continue the act, once Din kissed you, you couldn’t do anything except grin.
“All better.” You sighed, enjoying the way Din’s brown curls were sticking to his forehead, dampened by the snow. Warmth pooled in your chest as you looked at him, reflecting the depth of the affection you felt for this man.
Then, you flipped onto your back and began moving your arms and legs in unison to make a snow angel, watching the brilliant sky as you did so. Din placed Grogu on the snow between the two of you and began making the same motions. Grogu looked confused at first, but soon caught up, thrashing his little arms and legs about wildly. You caught Din’s eye as the two of you gazed at each other, soft smiles on your faces. You were trying to convey how grateful you were that he had brought you to this paradise. The look in his warm brown eyes, that shone like honey in the fading light, indicated that he understood. You slowed down, transfixed by him, before ceasing your motions. But then, the warmth in your chest that you felt whenever you looked at Din, was replaced with something much, much colder. Making snow angels with the two of them was such a joyful moment that you temporarily forgot how cold you were, your coat soaked through. But once the motions ceased, your teeth began chattering.
Din noticed instantly, looking at you with concern before he said, “Come on, let’s head inside and put Grogu to bed.” He raised an eyebrow, “Then,I have an idea for how to help you warm up.”
You couldn’t help but giggle breathlessly as Din pulled you to your feet. It turned out that the kiss had been a promise of things to come. As the pair of you walked hand in hand to the cabin, you took one last look back to the three figures in the snow in the fading light. The large, broad outline of Din’s snowangel, the shape that was unmistakably that of your own body and, between the two of you, the imprint Grogu had made, which seemed impossibly tiny next to the two of you. Especially considering the carnage he had just unleashed upon Din and you with the snowballs. So much power for one so small.
You thought with a smile that the snowy impressions of the three of you looked perfect together in the fluffy snow. They would be gone by the time you rose tomorrow, replaced by a fresh dusting of snow. But the love that the three of you felt for each other could not be replaced by any force in the galaxy.
For now, though, the unmistakable outlines of your little family remained as evidence of the fun afternoon you had spent in the snow.
#dincember#dincember 2023#my fics#din djarin x reader#din djarin x you#the mandalorian x reader#din djarin#the mandalorian#pedro pascal#this was so much longer than i expected ffs but you know what i had fun and i hope you did too!!#hope i can keep this up every day aah#the mandalorian fanfiction#din djarin fanfic#din djarin fluff#grogu#baby yoda#pedro pascal characters
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ultimate fic recs by nunki demonstars
no order of preference, just my all time fave dnf/dteam fics!
tried to keep it to one fic per author but honestly i didn't really pay attention, i just posted from my bookmarks. for this reasons, all authors are credited and linked to ao3. there's cc and c!/manhunt au fics (more of the former, but the warning seems necesary). there's also both nsft and not on this list, which are marked.
the list grew without my intention, so without further ado, here's a chaotic and huge list of fic recs from 2020 to 2023, for your enjoyement.
Kiss me in the morning light by dangergranger & shadeofblue
Five times Dream kisses a man (that isn’t George) and one time he finally does it right.
mood ring baby by minecraftbed
A proposal, of sorts.
paper & crayons by snowdreamr
It doesn’t take a genius to realize that Dream and George taking care of a child on Valentine’s day is a terrible, terrible idea.
all of you, a verb in perfect view by findinghomes
Despite being soulmates, they do nothing about it (well, okay, maybe not nothing).
tug me closer by effervescentwolf (expl.)
Dream likes getting his hair pulled. George just likes making him fall apart.
Protected by Anonymous
Dream is the Crown Prince and the future king. His sworn duty is to protect his kingdom from outside threats, especially from the scourge of magic.
George is his best friend and, technically, his servant. And he has a secret.
stage left by anonymous
cc!dnf roleplay c!dnf
down my arms, a thousand satellites by crabnap
Dream gets sick and George, to his amazement, is actually very soft and caring about it. Surely nothing life-changing will come of this.
my heart (in your chest) by heartinhands
It's an early morning in LA and George just wants to be with Dream.
a little bit of you by sickah (expl.)
Dream is over waiting on George, especially when all George does is tease him and lead him on. So, he meets a hot girl at Twitchcon and she turns out to actually be really, really cool. George loses his fucking mind.
cherries by sappymix1
Everyone always said that Dream loved too much.
loving you is bigger than my head by tippysleeps (expl.)
"You only ever talked about, like, footballers.” “Yeah,” Dream says, like it’s obvious.
“To you. What, was I supposed to talk about my attraction to you as it was developing?”
George blinks. “You talked to people about your attraction to me?”
lavender haze by furculaed
“Lavender?” he asks, holding up the bottle. The afternoon air has this foggy feel to it, almost like nothing is real. But the heat of the sun is curling around George’s hair and his smile strikes deep into his heart right where he loves him so Dream thinks this has to be real.
“It’s supposed to help you sleep.”
At the Intersection of Infinity by DeathSquiggles
dream is trapped in a time loop on his 23rd birthday and keeps repeating the day with no clear way out.
your hands were warm (though you came in from the cold) by didnt
George and Dream are roommates and somewhere down the line things got messed up.
got me looking so dumb right now by dreamsickle
About a month after George gets to Florida, Sapnap takes a spontaneous trip with Punz up to Karl's for a week.
He gets home, and something's different.
at the mouth of desire by offday
Somehow, close was not close enough.
aurum scarce (and meant for kings) by wooowriter
George's first hurricane.
my pen and paper cause a chain reaction by dizzy
George has some issues with something Dream tweeted.
hit my heaven's door by preytall (expl.)
It'd be easy, then, to overlook. But Dream keeps playing with the chain.
ignore my heart and lie to the truth by mincraftbed (expl.)
“You wanna be like… friends with benefits?”
Misquote Me (Do It Once More) by MoniFoundLove
In which George drops hints about their future and Dream ignores them a few times (accidentally).
thy eternal summer shall not fade by greyquills
A month into their senior year of high school, Dream spends the entirety of period three AP Literature class finding new and creative ways to flirt with George. George is understandably flustered.
but i was always on my way to him by womanhunt
Dream and George spend their first night together after meeting.
A Quiet Life (A Handshake) by undermycoat
The strongest dam in Essempy will never break, no matter if it cracks or leaks. George is not the strongest dam.
For The Bit by biboyhalo (expl.)
5 times Dream and George get distracted during sex and the 1 time it actually matters.
be the one by riversofgold (expl.)
Agreeing to be friends with benefits with George is the worst decision of Dream's life.
love on film by havocrat
George arrives in Florida. It takes four days to film the meetup vlog, and only three for Dream to completely lose his mind.
the first day of the rest of our lives by wooowriter
George's first full day in Florida.
to burn with desire and keep quiet by falsettodrop (expl.)
Varying degrees of togetherness, in four parts.
until you're by my side by sweetuhcreature
A late night in Florida, a later night in London. George thinks there's something wrong with him.
suck a dick fallacy by literaphobe (expl.)
Dream has so much he wants to explore about his sexuality, but no one he trusts enough to do it with. Lucky for him, George is finally in Florida. Surely things will be easy enough to figure out between best friends like them.
It ends up spiraling far beyond what either of them could anticipate.
get you the moon by snowdreamr (expl.)
It’s George’s birthday, and he finally allows himself to love.
You Are the Golden Dawn by hircinean (expl.)
dream falls in love with george all over again, several years later.
I'll Be Here When You Return by mssjynx (expl.)
Five times that George took care of Dream, plus the one time that Dream took care of George!
i think he knows by Anonymous
It’s a weekday in Florida, and Dream seems perfectly content to like fanarts in which he’s kissing GeorgeNotFound on the mouth. George, for all his worth, can’t help but do something about it.
button-downs and seashells by quartzfia
George is a daycare receptionist and literally falls on his face for a tall blonde who comes in early for pickup.
Deep sea, baby by orphan_account
You survey his skin as if it will erase a border.
late spring by towerofthegods
It's the hours between night and morning, and Dream wants to know more.
the elephant in the room by heyobsessions
the things dream learns about george after he moves to florida, and the things they learn together
sugar honey sweet by enonymous
Gift-giving as a love language, or: 5 times Dream bought George something, and 1 time George bought something for him.
Do Androids Dream of Poetry? by ABirdWithoutFeathers
> Happy birthday!!
Who are you?
> My name is George! it is so, so nice to finally meet you.
What is a birthday?
> It’s the anniversary of the day you come into existence, when you start being. Today is your very first day in the world.
Oh. Well, what do I do now?
flirting on the timeline by cloudfarmer
Dream is a popular Minecraft Youtuber and George runs a stan account for him on Twitter. After George replies to one of Dream's tweets with a jokingly flirtatious proposal, it quickly turns into a lot more than George was expecting when Dream publicly accepts.
cinnamon and swirl
Dream decides to tell his friends about his daughter right before they move in.
Saying something stupid like, "I love you" by noquesadilla
misunderstandings, obliviousness, and food poisoning. Never a good combination, less when it's Valentine's Day.
i'm not just drunk, i really think i'm in love with you by nervouswaltz
Dream gets drunk at a party. He calls George.
give you my heart if you’d take it by copperfic
He knows he has no right to be upset, hates that he is, hates the burn of jealousy so strong he almost feels sick, but every time he imagines Dream, loose and tipsy and happy, kissing some stranger—multiple ones by the sound of it—he has to swallow the urge to scream or throw up or, god forbid, cry.
circle the drain by twostorms
George makes it to Florida. It’s more complicated than it should be.
where the sun sleeps by meridies
The crew are pirates with no mercy, George is a selkie, and there is more to Dream than meets the eye.
something that's real by lodestones
George used to dream of this—settling into a life together, meeting the family, building furniture in their house, for their room—of domesticity and easy comfort and happiness, like nothing he’s ever known.
two reflections into one by mieldoux (expl.)
It takes Dream some time, but when he comes to the realisation, it rewires the chemistry in his brain. He and George—they have the same thing, it seems. The thing for the stubble.
ilysfm (i love u so fucking much) by zephryus
Five times George swore like hell, and the one time Dream reciprocated.
Love Me Loud by DeathSquiggles (expl.)
George has a fresh Foodbeast’s Kitchen League Battle Royale victory under his belt and a spring in his step from the energy of the crowds. He expects Dream will want to shut himself away in his hotel room and decompress alone after what must have been one of the most overwhelming days of his life. Dream has other plans.
Comorbidity by sappymix1
It's summer, and the face thing is making both of them a little weird.
you got the peaches (i got the cream) by (it says orphan acc but i'm 95% sure it's preytall's old acc) (expl.)
A love letter to George's... assets.
bibingka by furculaed
Dream gets home from a night of drinking and decides to decorate the house.
it's a big refrain (after all) by tippysleeps
It takes mere weeks in the loving heat of Florida for him to look at Dream out of the corner of his eye, and think he could take on anything as long as it was with him.
One night (or forever) by winterlighting
George breaks his bed on his first night in Florida, then a sleeping arrangement that was meant to last until he got a new bed frame soon turned into a routine; full of domesticity and gestures that blur the platonic line.
revelations in distance and proximity by indigoh
2020 Dream and 2023 Dream unknowingly swap bodies for a day to heal past wounds. 2020 Dream has an opportunity to confront feelings he’s pushed down and repressed while 2020 George gets some of the reassurance he needs.
When The Sunlight Dies by bramble_patch & personalized_radio
It's been three months since the coup. Three months since Sapnap, a knight, and George, his prince, have been chased out of their home. Three months of being on the run, trying to find a safe way out of Kinoko without being caught by the president's mercenaries or an opportunistic bounty hunter.
just a test by honeyplease
“I asked,” Dream replies, sounding far too unbothered for the words that follow this, “When are we gonna kiss?”
Who Can Love You Like Me? by ivegivenuponyou (expl.)
“Can we go to our room?” His small hand reaches forward, curling around Dream’s neck and pulling them closer until their chests touch.
There’s a glint in his eyes that Dream can recognize even in the dark.
“We literally just got home, how are you already horny?” He can’t help but grin, throwing his arms over George’s shoulders.
while doing this i found one of my luker fics so please have a look at what nunki was writting two years ago:
messaging the way to your heart by Anonymous lmfao
#fic recs#this took. More than it should have.#i just wanted to add any and all fics i had loved once idkkdkd#long post#kept it under wraps to not b annoying#anyway yeah i ignored a lot of 2020/2021 fics because either the authors had left which i respect or ummm well fics were different then#ALSO fair warning i tried not adding anyone that has turned crazy dranti but like idk i'm not sure don't scream at me
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Secret Santa 2024 Masterlist
Thank you to everyone who took part in this year’s holiday fic exchange, from writers to beta readers to all you lovely people who leave comments! With an especial shout out to our heroic pinch hitters, Cassie and Caiti <3
All gifts and authors have now been revealed, both on AO3 and on the masterlist (here and on DW). (If any tumblr usernames are incorrect or missing please just let me know any changed you'd like me to make.) You’re now free to post, share, and link to your gifts wherever you like! If you could in some way link back to the exchange or the community, to direct people to all of the other wonderful fics as well, that would be appreciated.
If you feel inspired to fill any other prompts, or create stocking fillers or non-participant fills, please feel free. These just won’t be included as part of the Secret Santa exchange or on the masterlists.
And just to note that this is the first time we’ve run the exchange (mostly) on AO3. Your feedback is very welcome!
From all your be_compromised mods, we hope you have a happy holiday season and wish you all the best for the new year! <3
Beautiful Disasters by Ultra for dreamerfound/fadedwings
Teen and Up (help, understanding, baking); Clint Barton & Natasha Romanoff, Natasha Romanoff/James Barnes, minor Clint Barton/Laura Barton
Summary: When Natasha needs help, she calls Clint for back up, but this isn't quite the mission he was expecting...
Beyond Binary by Chaed for @iriel3000
Mature (sex, post-apocalypse); Clint Barton/Natasha Romanoff
Summary: To Clint, Natasha is everything... she is also the only thing left.
(A closer look behind the scenes of What If…Ultron Won? S01E08)
Catastrophe by @firlalaith for @yourlocalalchemistress
Teen and Up (nudity, shapeshifting); Clint Barton/Natasha Romanoff)
Summary: Clint gets turned into a cat during a mission.
chaotic calls & familiar feelings by @cassiesinsanity for @paperairplanesopenwindows
Teen and Up (mild sexual content); Clint Barton/Natasha Romanoff, Yelena Belova/Kate Bishop
Summary: Clint and Natasha just want to enjoy their retirement. The Team has other ideas, especially when their new archer and spy continue to fight like cats & dogs.
Detour to a Christmas Kiss by @cassiesinsanity for @quidnunc-life
Teen and Up (fluff); Clint Barton/Natasha Romanoff
Summary: Somehow, Clint managed not to stare with his mouth hanging open when Natasha emerged from the bathroom wrapped in a fluffy white robe. Nor did he make a fool of himself when they met in the small sitting room an hour later. He even managed to be the perfect gentleman throughout dinner. No, the problem started when he asked her to dance between dinner and dessert.
I Bet On You by @iriel3000 for @poppypickle
Teen and Up (fluff, protective Natasha, jealous Natasha, bad flirting, attempted seduction, mission fic); Clint Barton/Natasha Romanoff
Summary: Clint and Natasha make a bet about who can seduce the other one first. Early SHIELD.
I think the pie distracted me by maddestofhatters for @heroofshield
Teen and Up; Clint Barton & Natasha Romanoff
Summary: “Nat, I’m serious, when you get back, you have to come here.”
“You don’t even remember the name of the place.” She deadpans.
“So what. I’m telling you, this apple pie is the best I’ve ever had.” To prove his point he shoves a large bite in his mouth. “And last time they kept bringing me slices. I honestly think I ate the whole thing.” He continues with a full mouth.
“Clint, please don’t chew in my ear.” Natasha chastises. “And you don’t think that’s a little weird. A random restaurant giving you a whole free pie?” He hears faint gunshots coming from the other line.
“Are you in the field right now? I thought the job was done?” Clint exclaims, completely ignoring Natasha’s question.
-Clint's convinced he's found the best restaurant ever, Natasha is not so sure
it's not christmas til somebody dies by @quidnunc-life for @cassiesinsanity
Teen and Up (assassination attempts, but like in a flirty way); Clint Barton/Natasha Romanoff
Summary: Natasha takes her target’s choice of bar as a personal affront.
Of course, there aren’t many options to choose from, being as they’re in Washington, DC’s bizarrely small airport, and it’s three days before Christmas, so most of the actually good places to grab a drink are crammed full of harried parents and idiot Hill interns knocking their expensive square-edges suitcases into people.
Also, to be fair, it’s not as though the corrupt senator she’s here to eliminate knows that this drink will be his last.
Lost in Shadows by @caiti-creative-corner for Chaed
Teen and Up (drugs, spiked drinks); Clint Barton/Natasha Romanoff
Summary: Clint planned to spend his evening sprawled on the couch, a game on the television, and maybe some pizza and beer to finish off the stereotypical guy’s night at home theme. That was his plan . . . that was not how his night ended up going.
Mission: Home for Christmas by @caiti-creative-corner for @inkvoices
Teen and Up (Christmas fluff); Clint Barton/Natasha Romanoff/Kate Bishop, Barney Barton/Laura Barton
Summary: Clint doesn't think he can make it home for the holidays, but his family and friends decided to do something about that. In other words, what happens when the strays he's collected over the years decide to save him this time around?
Our Flag Means Death & Guns by @heroofshield for @alphaflyer
Gen (pirate AU); Clint Barton/Natasha Romanoff
Summary: On the high seas, Clint Barton and Natasha Romanov are an odd pair. But so is the crew of the Revenge.
Retreat by @alphaflyer for endlesstwanted
Teen and Up (romantic fluff); Clint Barton/Natasha Romanoff
Summary: Avenging takes its toll. Everybody is tuckered out and cranky; all Clint and Natasha want is a hot tub. Thor has a better answer: A field trip to Asgard.
the comfort that comes by @cloud--atlas for @caiti-creative-corner
Teen and Up (werewolf AU, naked cuddling, non-sexual intimacy, possessive behaviour, fluff); Clint Barton/Natasha Romanoff
Summary: It hadn’t actually been Clint’s mission that had been the long one. He’d only been away for four days. An Avengers call out; Doctor Doom in Hungary with Doombots and giant wasps and perhaps also sharks with lasers? She’s not entirely sure. As soon as Bruce had told her that the team had it under control, she had, uncharacteristically, stopped paying attention. In her defence, she’d been undercover in Madam Masque’s ludicrous crime syndicate for almost eighteen months with only Sharon and Sam as her non-villainous contacts and she’d really, really needed to just… watch cat videos and not think about anything important for at least three days. She’d missed Christmas – twice! She deserved cat videos.
She’d also needed to see Clint something fierce because it had been eighteen months – but… Doctor Doom. Giant Wasps. Sharks with lasers. And that’s fine! Stopping Doctor Doom is important. She gets that, she does. But… she’d wanted cuddles, okay? She’d really, really wanted cuddles.
the pull of the tide by @yourlocalalchemistress for @firlalaith
Teen and Up (choose not to warn); Clint Barton/Natasha Romanoff, Kate Bishop/America Chavez, Steve Rogers/James Barnes, Tony Stark/Pepper Potts
Summary: as a graduate student, clint met natasha on an island research station on the great barrier reef. when he catches a familiar flash of red hair almost a decade later, he feels bewilderment, nostalgia, and...is that hope? clintasha coral researcher/dolphin whisperer AU.
Tumblr Dashed by @paperairplanesopenwindows for @cloud--atlas
Mature (epistolary, celebrity AU, mentions of RPF shipping); Clint Barton/Natasha Romanoff, Clint Barton/Natasha Romanoff/James Barnes, Clint Barton/James Barnes
Summary: An archive of tumblr posts after the cult classic television show Avengers (2001-2004) finally became available on Netflix.
Two Hours And A Half by endlesstwanted for Ultra
Teen and Up (non-sexual intimacy); Clint Barton/Natasha Romanoff
Summary: Two times Natasha walked away from Clint, and one time she stayed by his side.
We’ll Go Dancing With Your Shadows by @poppypickle for maddestofhatters
Teen and Up (karaoke); Clint Barton/Natasha Romanoff
Summary: “You should come out with us.”
Natasha is halfway out the door of the firing range when Barton says it. It sounds casual, like he’s tossing out an idea that just occurred to him. But there’s something in his tone – some vague undercurrent of purpose – that makes her feel certain this idea did not just occur to him. So she stops short and turns around slowly, one foot still inside the room and one foot out the door.
“Where’s out? And who’s us?”
Or, Clint helps Natasha adjust during her early SHIELD days.
Windows to the Soul by @inkvoices for @lostemotion
Teen and Up (magical realism, Red Room); Clint Barton/Natasha Romanoff, Clint Barton/Natasha Romanoff/James Barnes
Summary:They say that the eyes are windows to the soul. Most people, when they look into someone else’s eyes, can see at least what’s at the surface level.
Natasha learns that she might be turned into her worst fear - a soulless nightmare like the Winter Soldier - and chooses to run. Clint reads her soul on a rooftop in Berlin, sees the worst of her, and doesn't judge her for it.
#fanfic#clintasha#fic exchange#secret santa 2023#be_compromised#clint barton#natasha romanoff#hawkeye#black widow#james barnes#yelena belova#kate bishop#widowwinterhawk#winterhawk#america chavez#laura barton
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hi king! got any favorite bojere fics?
I'm shaking I'm so excited for this ohmygod anon I love you.
I'm gonna be honest, like 60% of my bookmarks are just pure filth so I'll only rec a few of them and try to find actual plot one's lol.
Here's a very long chaotic list and why I love them:
Enough by homegrown_simp is the first multichapter fic I bookmarked and it's just so so good ever time I read it. It has probably the best ESC-era and post-ESC era Bojere from May/June times in my opinion
Now I'm Going to Dance by Monsters_Minima is 2 chapters, with the first one being utterly *heartbreaking*, and the second one will fix that right up with fluff/smut. I usually don't read falling out/break up fics, but for some reason the way this was written just gripped me so... yeah
Guys being dudes, dudes being gay by Anonymous is just pure filth BUT the way that both Bojan and Jere are written is just so magical and it's just so so so good and realistic and fun and yeah. Just a really good read, I felt out of breath (lol) after reading it bcs the writing just gripped me (again, lol)
I'm not even gonna rec anything in particular from mitochondriencocktail (except Put Me Together, Thread a Needle which EVERYONE has to read), every single one of their BoJere fics is written so unbelievably well. I honestly had a throwback to my own screenwriting classes from how well the fics always progressed etc.
When I don't have you, my demons are with me by Anonymous now THIS ONE is a doozy. For all the girlies that want to make Jere cry during sex, here's your chance. If you are triggered by (brief, taken care of) dub-con, overstimulation or jealousy then this might not be for you, but dor the rest of you.... Have at it. There's a part 2 to this that is incredibly fluffy and cute, but unfortunately it's by anon so it's not easy to find haha
You look at me and babe, I wanna catch on fire by JuliaBaggins just... just read this okay. I cried and felt like floating afterwards
Sano mulle jotain seksikästä by Anonymous FOR ALL YOU FINNS, THIS WILL MAKE YOU FEEL SO SEEN. The rest of you, enjoy nice fluffy filth
The story of love (that hurts) by ate_my_brain is also one that I think everyone just has to read. Period.
Everything feels like everything by Televa is written by a Finn and is just so utterly heartbreaking but beautiful, it's short and just so so so good please go support finnish fic writers thanks <3
Your only one (and I'll prove it to you) by PupperMasterOnAString is obviously something I have to mention because it stemmed from me hornyposting about BoJere on here so.... thank you bestie I owe you my life this is such a good sub!Jere read <3
I'll probably add to this or make a part 2 because I am VERY versed in the BoJere tag on ao3 and I have like 20 others that I'd want to talk about lmao. Just as a treat here's a list of authors that I'm always sososososo excited about when I see they've written something new:
Mitochondriencocktail, obviously
PuppetMasterOnAString if you love sub!Jere (who doesn't)
Televa
Todayiseveryday (Tilhi)
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Never Say Never - Suguru Geto x Reader
Chapter Four: Roomie Night
Chapter Summary: The roommates get together every now and then at the house to get drunk together and just hang out. Suguru decides to be brave, which leads to more questions than answers.
Author notes: I'm literally listening to a playlist called 'dating suguru geto' to get in the mindset to write this chapter because there will be smut.
WARNING: SMUT AHEAD.
ao3
TAGS: @username23345
"It's roomie night!!" I smile, wiggling two bottles of liquor in my hands. Shoko smiles, grabbing a bottle from me and pouring herself a glass.
Every now and then we try to do roomie night - which is when all of the roommates get together and drink, hangout, and overall just have a good time.
It's been weird with Suguru lately, but I'm hoping the liquor is mixed with truth serum so he can tell me what the hell is going on.
"I got you guys your favorite snacks." Gojo pushed his glasses in front of his eyes, revealing the tray of snacks.
"You're so thoughtful. Thank you, Satoru." I wrap an arm around Gojo. He can be the biggest pain in my ass, but he is the sweetest person. Always so thoughtful.
"NOW LETS DRINK." Gojo yelled, running to the kitchen.
And loud.
Suguru was leaning against the wall, sipping on his drink. I work up the courage to walk over to him, even though his stature almost repels me.
He peers at me with his half hooded eyes, nodding his head. Suguru loves wearing black, of course, so he's wearing a black tshirt that shows off his arm tattoos, and a pair of black sweatpants.
I opted for sweat-shorts, a tank top, and an oversized zip up hoodie, revealing my shoulder.
"What are you drinking?" I smile, standing on my tip-toes to see his drink.
"Whiskey. You wouldn't like it." Suguru took another sip from his cup, locking his eyes with yours.
"Since when do you know everything about me?"
"Since I've spent 95% of my life with you."
Well, he has a point.
I sip on my rum and pineapple, which admittedly is mostly rum. Gojo turned on music from his roomie playlist. It's as chaotic as us - there's happy songs, party songs, and songs you fuck to.
"Did you wear those shorts for me?" Suguru leaned down to my ear, whispering. I could feel his chest against my back, causing me to freeze.
"Nope." I made a 'pop' noise. "Why? You like?" I twirled, the liquor hitting me slowly.
Suguru didn't answer, he just walked to the couch where Gojo, Shoko, and Nanami were. I followed, grabbing a blanket from the basket on the floor.
I sat next to Nanami on purpose, because it was opposite of Suguru.
"We're almost done with college, what are we gonna do after?" Gojo said.
"Get jobs. Be adults. Pay bills." Nanami pushed his glasses.
"Wow, sounds soooooo fun." Gojo groaned.
We laughed in unison, bantering back and forth.
During the conversation, Suguru got up from his seat next to Shoko and sat next to me under my blanket.
I glare at him before directing my attention back to the conversation, discussing our post-grad plans.
Goosebumps populated my skin as I felt Suguru's hand on my thigh, his long fingers creeping underneath my shorts. He looked so casual while doing it, no one could probably tell. Also, we're all drunk or tipsy, so that helps.
"What are you doing?" I turn to Suguru, raising my eyebrow.
Suguru didn't answer, letting his fingers explore the damp cloth of my thong. A smirk formed on his face as he felt my arousal.
I felt a finger push the fabric of my thong to the side, while another finger enters my pussy. I hold back a moan, afraid of the consequences of my roommates seeing me like this.
Suguru continued his conversation with Gojo as he was doing this, curling his finger inside of me, massaging my clit.
"I'll be right back." I abruptly left the couch, but no one except Suguru noticed.
The liquor has hit.
Suguru followed me to the bathroom, refusing to leave me alone. "I knew I would get you in the bathroom somehow." He locked the door behind him.
"Suguru, don't do something you'll regret." We stopped drinking an hour ago while everyone else was downing more shots. So I'm not sure if we can blame this purely on alcohol.
"Anything regarding you willl never result in regret." Suguru moved a piece of hair behind my ear, then sucking on the finger that was just inside me. "I need to taste more of you.
I searched his eyes for an answer. Lies, truths, anything. I couldn't find what I was looking for, but I so badly want to give into my temptations. I look up at Suguru, biting my bottom lip.
He grabs me by my waist, sitting me on the counter of the bathroom we share. His hands are resting next to my thighs, staring into my eyes. His hair is in his usual half up, half down style with a bun and messy face framing pieces.
"I've dreamt of this moment for years." Suguru inched his face closer to mine, closing the space between us. I cradled his face in my hands as our lips erupted with electricity. His body is standing between my legs, rubbing his thumb along my thigh.
Suguru's lips feel like plump clouds that know exactly how I like being kissed. I wrap my legs around his waist as we kiss, wanting to immerse myself with him.
I can't lie, I've thought about this moment for awhile. It's hard to deny sexual tension, especially with Suguru Geto. The only time it was easy was when he was fucking other women.
"Are you okay?" Suguru popped into my thoughts, caressing my face.
I nod, pulling him back in for another kiss. I opened my mouth slightly to let his tongue in, to which he obliged. I moaned against his lips as Suguru snaked his hands under my hoodie and tank top, resting his hands on my tits. He started kneading them slowly, deepening the kiss.
I helped him take off my hoodie, leaving me only in my tank top and shorts. My tits were spilling out of my top, to which Suguru started kissing them. He kissed, sucked, and bit, leaving multiple marks. I put my hand in his hair, leaning back against the mirror as I felt my core start pulsating.
"I want to taste you." Suguru pulled me to the edge of the counter, pulling my shorts and thong down to the floor in one go. I steadied myself with my forearms on the counter, looking down at the fabulous view of Suguru kneeling in front of my pussy.
"More beautiful than I imagined." He grazed his fingers over my slit, covering them with my arousal. "Good girl, so wet for me already."
I let out a moan before Suguru plunged two of his fingers into my pussy, staring at my face. His eyes are hypnotizing. My hands traveled to his hair again, pushing his face towards my pussy.
"Now." I moan.
"Demanding now, are we?" Suguru hummed, pressing a soft kiss to my slit. My hips jolted from the touch, begging for more.
Suguru slid his tongue in my pussy gently before he started fucking devouring it. He looked up at me while he was eating my pussy like it was his last meal, and I just about lost it.
"You are so beautiful." Suguru mumbled against my pussy, curling and pumping his fingers. My walls begin to pulsate around his hand and mouth, which only makes him go faster. "Cum for me, princess."
The world began to evaporate around me until it was just Suguru and I. My legs were shaking almost uncontrollably, riding out my high.
"Suguru." I moan his name, pressing his face into me. When I halfway come down from the euphoria I just experienced, I noticed Suguru had a white spot on his sweatpants.
This man came from giving ME pleasure.
I don't think another man can ever eat my pussy again.
"Suguru," I breathe, pulling him back up to my eye level.
"You are addicting." He kissed me, my arousal glistening on his lips. "That pussy tastes better than anything else I've ever ate in my life."
"Hey!! What are you two doing?!" Gojo banged on the door. "Why is the door locked?!"
Suguru and I looked at each other, stunned.
"Uh, she's throwing up so I'm holding her hair for her. I didn't want the smell getting out." Suguru lied.
"Oh, thanks man!" Gojo jogged away.
Suguru and I laugh at how easy that was, but then we look at each other and realize our relationship just got a lot more complicated.
#suguru geto#suguru geto x reader#getou suguru#suguru x reader#getou suguru x reader#suguru geto smut#suguru geto jjk#jujutsu kaisen fanfiction#jjk fanfic#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#jjk#satoru gojo#shoko ieiri#kento nanami#nanami kento
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Anniversary Fic Exchange
June 13th marked one year of our server, so in celebration we hosted a fanfic event! Each participant submitted a prompt and was randomly assigned a prompt in return. You can read all the fics by going to the event’s ao3 collection or on this tumblr post. Thank you to all our participants! And, again, happy birthday to our little server. We love you dearly.
key: title by author (tumblr) [rating*, word count, chapter count]
prompt
*G - general audience, T - teen and up audience, M - mature, E - explicit; 18+
Tiempo de Vals by 14carrotgold (@14carrotghoul) [T, 5.5k, 1/1]
Alex was having a perfectly wonderful time when the very last person he wanted to see came waltzing into view - Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor.
Baby, it's Cold Inside by Celaestis (@celaestis1) [E, 9.8k, 1/1]
Acting like they’re cold to have an excuse to cuddle or share clothes or blankets.
It's Getting Hot in Here (So Hot!) by Celaestis (@celaestis1) [E, 10.8k, 1/1]
Acting like they’re cold to have an excuse to cuddle or share clothes or blankets.
All The Ways I Love You by Treluna [G, 1.5k, 1/1]
People think they're doing it on purpose but they're really not - they're truly THAT nauseatingly in love with each other.
Trick Rider by OrchidScript (@orchidscript) [E, 2.5k, 1/1]
Chaotic night with the super six ft. Henry saying yee-haw and any character saying the dialogue "Can I offer you a nice Shirley Temple in this trying time?"
jump in with your heart first by stutteringpeach (@stutteringpeach) [E, 7.5k, 1/1]
he moved in the day we met and never left.
the beagle, the ghost and the wardrobe by stutteringpeach (@stutteringpeach) [M, 10.9k, 1/1]
he moved in the day we met and never left.
questions and answers by elegantdumpling [M, 1.6k, 1/1]
"There are years that ask questions and years that answer." - Zora Neale Hurston
“You jump, I jump, Jack.” by Muddbloodpotter05 (@mudbloodpotter05) [M, 8.8k, 1/1]
"I just saved your life, so you're welcome."
Hoping You'll See What Your Love Means to Me by politics_and_prose (@historicallysam) [T, 2.4k, 1/1]
Nora and Alex get drunk or high and one of them starts waxing poetically about their partner and the other gets it on video to make fun of them
Always Where I Need To Be by chamel (@cha-melodius) [T, 5.4k, 1/1]
Alex can’t find his glasses again - but he has a suspect in mind for the theft.
The Wrong Classroom by viciouslyqueer [T, 2.6k, 1/1]
Alex and Henry are college professors and are accidentally assigned to teach one of each others’ classes, which is so utterly specific that they know absolutely nothing about it.
SNL | Season 45 Episode 2 | HRH Prince Henry & FSOTUS Alex Claremont-Diaz by TheLastKnownSurvivor (@xthelastknownsurvivorx) [M, 9.7k, 4/4]
"Listen, I’m trying to cut down on the innuendo. But it’s hard... so hard."
i was right there beside him all summer long by hearitinthesilence (@heartitinthesilence) [T, 3k, 1/1]
“You really thought you could get away with this?”
pull the truth right from my lips by athousandrooms (@athousandrooms) [M, 2.4k, 1/1]
"I think someone's a little needy."
There's Smoke in my Eyes (and love in this kitchen) by vonPeeps (@vonpeepsisback) [T, 1.8k, 1/1]
"I didn't know it was possible to burn scrambled eggs to a crisp without actively trying to, sweetheart, but it's still the nicest thing a date's ever done for me."
don't you let it go by smc_27 (@smc-27) [M, 6.9k, 1/1]
Henry blinks into the mirror once, twice, and then frowns, wondering who the brown skinned, curly haired man is that’s staring back at him.
No Sense or Sensibility by InexplicablyMine (@inexplicablymine) [T, 5.5k, 1/1]
“Don’t look at me I thought we were getting Ice Cream.”
Uncut not Uncultured by InexplicablyMine (@inexplicablymine) [E, 6.4k, 3/3]
“Don’t look at me I thought we were getting Ice Cream.”
Promises, Promises by EmmaLostInWonderland (@emmalostinwonderland) [E, 1k, 1/1]
Henry and Alex explore Henry using 'every inch of authority in his blood.
of fathers and sons by adreama (@adreamareads) [T, 7.6k, 1/1]
"Not a win, no, but certainly not a disgraceful performance."
peace by raysletters (@raysletters) [M, 14.2k, 1/1]
Sky High AU
Burnin' Through The Sky by cricket (@cricketnationrise) [E, 5k, 1/1]
museum curator x lawyer au
dibs - (informal) The right to use or enjoy something exclusively or before anyone else, often expressed as an interjection by Poutini (@Cheesecurdsgravyandfries) [E, 1k, 1/1]
"I walked into this party and someone yelled 'dibs!'"
Dibs, the extended cut by Poutini (@Cheesecurdsgravyandfries) [E, 2.4k, 1/1]
"I walked into this party and someone yelled 'dibs!'"
There's No Chocolate by logan_love [T, 2k, 1/1]
And then it was found that all the chocolate was gone.
(you just) call out my name by outofthesun [T, 3.4k, 1/1]
"Sorry, my hands are shaking."
Lost and Found by sherryvalli (@sherryvalli) [T, 3.9k, 1/1]
“Single dad Henry (non-royal) moves to the United States and meets the hurricane of Alex.”
‘Kiss,’ ‘Egg’ and ‘Meeting You’ by everwitch (@everwitch-magiks) [T, 4.9k, 1/1]
An Outside POV from the painter/painters Henry/Alex hire for getting the Brownstone ready to move in.
Dinners and Diatribes by alightlefton (@a-light-left-on) [T, 7.6k, 1/1]
“5+1 anniversaries, any kind, any pairing”
Maybe Dreams Do Come True by Softheart777 [G, 1.3k, 1/1]
"You must be dreaming"
Just Business by bleedingballroomfloor [T, 11.3k, 1/1]
wedding ringer au (but make it gay)
three grubs in a trench coat + gay brit wizard by clottedcreamfudge (@clottedcreamfudge) [E, 8.1k, 1/1]
"Can y'all stop flirting in the google doc :/"
Biggest Fan by Sirius4Life [E, 905, 1/1]
Alex and Henry meet at a Con while separately cosplaying characters who are a couple in that franchise.
Diners & Double Dates by ACDs_Coffee [T, 2.4k, 1/1]
“It’s not a date - we’re just third and fourth wheeling!”
So Quiz Me by indomitablelove (@indomitable-love) [E, 10.6k, 1/1]
“Baby, sweetheart, I love you, but what in the everloving fuck did you just say?”
Not Even At All by ifigo (@juxtaposed-variety) [M, 4.3k, 1/1]
“10 things I hate about you” style AU: “But mostly I hate the way I don't hate you, Not even close, Not even a little bit, Not even at all”
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January 2023 Tomarrymort One-Shots
I wasn't planning to do a month-by-month rec list, but my god did January deliver on one-shots — so many showstopping works were published this month that these 10 fics deserve their own post. And what a variety too(!), with fics ranging from A/B/O to love potion mishaps to fem!Harry, and even canon-compliant(-ish) Harrymort.
Criteria for this list: one-shot, complete, published in January 2023 (yes, in the last month alone!)
Why one-shots?, you may ask. The majority of what I read is chaptered works and longfics, but I think one-shots can be a bit overlooked and underrated — they don't have ongoing updates on AO3, and the first rec lists in this ship that I encountered were dominated by longfics. So I wanted to celebrate and highlight the amazing work that the writers in this fandom are doing in short-form writing. Also, one-shots tell a full story arc in one go — and isn't that wonderful to get plot resolution and closure in a single sitting?
(Thank you also for dropping recs into my ask box! Please keep them coming!!)
*
Tomarrymort Recs (January 2023)
a dream is a wish by @funkyatheart (E, 5k)
This was such a delight to read from beginning to end. Cleverly weaved in between the canon events of book 5 are SUPER HOT dream-sharing sequences that show the escalation of Harry's increasing fascination with Voldemort. And we're gifted with hemipenes and consciousness-sharing through their mental link — what more can I can ask for from a Harrymort smut scene??
A Special Day by @vdoshu (E, 3.5k)
My jaw was ON. THE. FLOOR. for this whole fic. Grumpy old man Voldemort with all his old man habits was such a delight to read about — I don't think I've ever seen this concept done before. And when Harry shows up, the narrative tension is so good and kept me on the edge of my seat. I can't say much more without giving things away, but I definitely recommend this as one of the most unique and twisted concepts I've ever read in Harrymort.
Banish Me to the Garden of Eden by @contrarywiseizybel (M, 7k)
Rich, sumptuous descriptions run through this entire fic and bring to life — very vividly — the entire story arc of Harry locked up in a tower as Voldemort's captive and how he gradually comes to make the best of his fate. The author's writing is so poetic and lyrical and makes really good use of repetition, which gives the whole fic a very fairy-tale-like quality (including the happily-ever-after ending!)
Bruises Like Violets by @noumena-writes (E, 3k)
A forbidden romance between Tom and Harry who are on opposite sides of the war makes their last tryst VERY high-tension and fraught with danger. As always, noumena's writing is full of so many gorgeous and richly detailed phrases, like "The raging fire that burnt through every angry spell was slowly eating away at Harry, leaving a battle-weary shadow in his place." Absolute 🔥 writing.
Cherish by @amors-mordre (G, 1k)
This fic gave me the absolute chills in just 800 words. Voldemort is at his manipulative best here, as well as absolute peak possessiveness. The dynamic between Voldemort and captive Harry is delightfully creepy and leaves you craving more.
his lady in crimson (who reaches through time) by @ellorypurebloodculture (M, 5k)
This was such a cool non-traditional time-travel story! All the descriptions of fem!Harry and her outfits are absolutely gorgeous — I don't think I've come across this level of detail to costuming in very many other fics before; it was one of those really nice details that you can tell the author put a lot of work into and that really made the fic very memorable for me. And oh god, I felt every moment of Harry's heartful yearning and desperation and urgency in reaching out across time to Tom, and how much she loved him already — an absolutely beautiful love story.
never a victimless crime by @duplicitywrites (E, 7.5k)
Someone doses Tom with a lust potion keyed to Harry — and an absolutely wild, chaotic, wet, filthy hot mess of a shower-scene PWP ensues, featuring Tom who's been drugged out of his mind and Harry who's trying to do the right thing but is similarly incapacitated by a mild concussion. This had so much sexy chaotic energy, and is definitely one of the best things I've read on AO3.
Serendipity by @lissiamoonstone (E, 6.5k)
SO MANY LAYERS OF DUBCON. SO MANY LAYERS. And combined with super possessive Alpha Tom and Harry being in heat and somnophilia as the icing on top!? This was such a delicious mind-fuck — I reread it a few times and kept finding new things to notice, and I know I'll come back to reread it many more times.
They, of Riddle Manor by riddlereading (M, 16k)
I think this is one of the most unique Voldemort-wins story arcs I've read in Tomarry. Just one thing goes differently when Tom goes to Riddle Manor for the first time, and he doesn't end up killing his muggle relatives, which then sets off a sequence of events that result in Lily not dying and Harry growing up (with a happy childhood) in Riddle Manor. It's absolutely adorable from start to finish, and I had a huge smile on my face when I finished.
Tom Riddle’s Guide to Repeatedly Failing to Get Laid in the Restricted Section by TheOnceandFutureQueenofTarts (M, 3k)
I jumped to open this fic when I saw some of the tags here — dubcon, amnesia, mind manipulation(!!) This was such a fun and snappy read, featuring one of my favorite things — Tom repeatedly fucking with Harry's head to get what he wants (in this case, getting laid). He is absolutely undeterred and plays dirty, and we would expect nothing less of our favorite babygirl dark lord in training 💕
*
#tomarry#harrymort#tomarrymort#tomarry recs#tomarrymort recs#hp fic recs#one-shot recs#ao3 recs#fanfic recs#harrymort recs#2023 reads#2023 recs
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Typical chaotic AO3 Author’s Note life update but:
I got engaged 💍🎉 ! It was a sweet just us moment in front of the Tokyo Tower 🗼 and I couldn’t be happier 🥹 and we bought a house before we left for our vacation! So I’m picking up overtime on top of my full time schedule 💀💔 but now that I’ve passed most of my operating room training and become a well established registered nurse on the roster, the stress levels have really gone down and I can confidently say I love my job and what I do these days!
(But I would love being a travel content creator more for sure 😔😮💨)
I’m still writing 😌 and reading more because that’s my 2024 resolution. I aspire to feel the way I felt when I was reading The Maze Runner, The Hunger Games… Percy Jackson, Harry Potter… though I don’t know if I can get behind those viral booktok ones like CoHo/ACOTAR/First Wing… like I have to agree with the people who say those books are for people who missed having a Wattpad phase 🤷🏻♀️ but anyways. I digress.
I hope everybody that reads this is happy, healthy, doing the best they can in these very troubling global circumstances (🍉), and that you find luck and love in every day.
💘 V
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August 21 is Fanfic Writer Appreciation Day 💕
…so I tried to make a list of 21 of my absolute favorite fanfics, but I couldn’t quite narrow it down enough. Instead you get 25!
(will tag the author if I know/can find their Tumblr— if I miss any please let me know)
🎉🩷🎉🩷🎉🩷🎉
Warm by @patternscolorsflowers - I made an Ao3 account for the sole purpose of bookmarking this as my very first favorite fic. A gorgeous one-shot of Joyce giving Eddie some much needed motherly TLC. I must’ve read this fic at least a dozen times, and cried every single time.
Disliking You Less by @claracivry - Claudia Henderson slowly learns to accept Dustin’s weird new metalhead friend. Just the sweetest, cutest fic!
Red and the Metalhead by @cunninghamschrissy - of course! The adorable fic that inspired me to write Not-so-iron Maiden! Max and Eddie as sibs have my heart forever.
Best we can do is to pick up the pieces by @hearjessroarfics - very, very sweet fic from Wayne’s POV as he observes Eddie and Chrissy in an unguarded moment.
Come True in the End by Many_Impossible_Things - absolutely BAMF Chrissy is tired of being underestimated, and comes back to life with a vengeance through the power of Pat Benatar. Seriously, read this one!!!
Take a chance on me by @womanof-1000-faces - Chrissy joins Hellfire. And it’s just as awesome as it sounds.
We’re not alone (I’ll find a new place to be from) by @grasslandgirl - Eddie learns to love Dustin’s hugs. Soooo cute.
Of All The Waffle Houses In The World by Babeinthewoods - a few unconventional wingmen (aka, the Party) help Eddie get a date with Chrissy, with lots of hilarious shenanigans along the way.
Eddie My Love by @ghostlynimbus - sweet little Hellcheer scene, and you’ll end up with the song stuck in your head for days.
Graceland, too. (Whatever she wants) by cunninghams - Eddie and Chrissy survive Vecna and then make a bucket list to take advantage of their new lease on life.
Five Drunks and a Cheerleader by @phoenixwrites - Chrissy goes to see Corroded Coffin at the Hideout. It sounds simple but it’s so.dang.cute and there’s a whole delightful series now!
That’s all I’ve got to say by @barriss - Eddie gets a little too emotional during movie night. Absolutely adorable.
The shop around the corner by @adelaideelaine - Hellcheer meets You’ve Got Mail with a little dash of tattoo parlor AU thrown in. One of my favorite ships plus one of my favorite movies? Heck yeah!
Have no fear (the monster’s gone) by JuliaRose12 - Heartmelting Wayne and Eddie fluff, as everyone’s favorite uncle looks after his beloved nephew in the hospital.
In Her Mercy Does All Abound by viharker - medieval troubadour AU. Nuff said, right? This one is so beautiful.
the buzz by @hangon-silvergirl - modern day Eddie as a chaotic DJ wooing Chrissy the Barista via music and text. Absolutely hilarious!
Come What May by @lokinightfury - Hellcheer starring in Grease? The entire Party and Corroded Coffin as wingmen? Yes please!!!
Wasted Years by @bratanimus - Eddie and the guys listen to a new album, as Eddie comes to terms with the past and prepares for his future. So introspective and beautiful, I cried so much reading this one. Really the entire Man to Man series is amazing!
The Kingdoms Never Weep by @sokkas-first-fangirl - Eddie’s estranged family tries to come back to haunt him, but the Party has his back. I love the gorgeous friendships in this fic and the whole series!
Guidance Counseling by @khaleesa - Eddie is determined to graduate, and slowly gets his life on track after surviving the Upside Down. I wanted to climb into this fic and live in it forever.
On the Other Side by @iwasateenagevirginiawoolf - One year after Vecna’s attack, Eddie and Chrissy are both learning to live again. Absolutely heartbreaking but so beautiful and optimistic at the same time.
Long is the Road out of Hell by @justhere4thevibez - Chrissy joins Hellfire, but this glorious fic comes with the added bonus of her escaping her mother, and the best Mike Wheeler I’ve ever read.
Family Recipe by @foxylibrarian - the cutest fake dating AU, Chrissy has Nancy, Robin, and Barb as her BFFs, and there’s lots of Wayne too. It’s everything you could want!
On My Terms by @pipergirl17 - Jason injuring Wayne in an accident doesn’t sound like the basis of a Hellcheer hospital meet-cute, but trust me, it works.
In the Shade of Aurelias by @pearlypairings - last but MOST CERTAINLY not least, is my favorite fic by my favorite author! A magical fantasy AU, with hints of D&D, mystery, intrigue, and romance. It was hard to choose just one from Pearly, because all of her works are amazing, but this fic is truly outstanding.
Happy Fanfic Writer Appreciation Day to all of my favorite writers, and happy reading to everyone who enjoys these fics!!! 💕
#fanfic writer appreciation day#stranger things fanfic#stranger things fanfiction#hellcheer#i scream you scream we all scream for wayne munson
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