#complete fanfic

[theothermaidoftarth]

Title: Song for Evermore

Pairing: Daeron Targaryen x Baela Targaryen 

Rating: M (a light M; it’s mostly T, except for a few paragraphs of non-explicit sexual content)

Summary: Daeron Targaryen’s hopes and dreams always came back to belonging. It had been so ever since he became a ward of Oldtown at five, at an earlier age than most. He finds a kindred spirit in an unexpected place: Lady Baela, the daughter of his grandfather’s bitter rival, Daemon Targaryen.

Word count: 47,559

Multi-chapter (essentially a one-shot split into six parts)

Status: Complete

Excerpt below:

“You sing to your dragon?”   

“Yes, I — yes.” Daeron thought he was alone, save the dragons and the last vestiges of his song, echoing back to him. She startled him. His eyes took her in, from boots to breeches and studded jack. Lady Baela and her grandmother had arrived too late yesterday eve to be presented to the court; they had met with the queen and her father, the Lord Hand privately before retiring to their allotted chambers. Baela had been shaped as if by a fine hand; spare, too lean, most would say, with the barest hint of womanly curves. Her hair was pulled back in a thick braid, the silver curls even brighter against her rich bronze skin. Her mouth, generous and lush, curved in a faint smile. Her purple eyes, large, doe-like and beguiling, at odds with the intensity of her expression which he saw as she drew nearer curiously; her gaze was as keen as a blade.

He thought she was as surprised to come upon him in the Dragonpit as he was her, though she hid it slightly better. Surprise was too weak a word. Even as he rose, feet firmly underneath him, he felt unsteady, as if he were on the deck of a ship embroiled in a storm. Fitting when she has both Baratheon and Velaryon blood. How his thoughts run from him, even more than usual. He should bow. He had forgotten to, but neither had she curtsied. Likely it was too late now. He had a thought she would laugh if he did, Daemon’s eldest daughter. Of what he had heard of the man, the uncle he’d never met, it seemed likely. She’d laugh for he would seem like a dog slow to remember an old trick. He might like to see her laugh, he thought hazily. Better that than this halfway state, midway between impassive and expressive.

“Is she the only she-dragon you will sing to?”

“You, my lady?” Daeron didn’t recognise his voice, a low husky murmur. He swallowed against a dry mouth. “You wish me to sing to…”

Her eyes were full of laughter as she said, “Moondancer.” Hot blood rushed to his face, though her amusement was not mocking. Her dragon, she meant her dragon. “Although…” her head canted to the side, “I would not say no to a song, Prince Daeron.”

At last he dusted off his wits. “And what of yours? Your voice, I mean.”

"It would make her weep.”

He gave a little laugh. She surprised him and that cleared his head some. No other lady he knew would ever admit such a fault, especially not so blithely. “So bad as that?”

She cast a fond eye over her dragon, green with pearl tipped wings and crouching stiffly as if expecting a fight. “Certes it wouldn’t settle her, see her thus, like—“ she nodded to the blue dragon behind him, lolling upon the floor contently; were she a pup, she may have rolled onto her back, legs all in the air.

“Tessarion,” Daeron offered with a warm smile, patting his dragon’s flank. Despite her blithe mien, Baela’s stance was almost too casual; something had her on edge. Oddly enough he did not think it was him. Just as oddly the same was true in reverse. She could have been any young woman and he any young man, not two scions of a family split in two. “Any particular requests?”

“If I said The Bear and the Maiden Fair…”

“I’d say you want me sent to the Wall for debauching a lady of the blood.”

“As if you were the bear himself to lick honey from my hair.” The silence was charged with something hot, heavy, which made his breathing hitch. Mayhap she felt it too for her voice was soft, a bare whisper. “You’d be singing a song.”

“And after? How do you know what I would or wouldn’t lick?”

Hot embarrassment at speaking such bold words filled him — Mother have mercy, he had only just met her — but then she took one step towards him, then another, and another. Something fiery stirred low in his belly as she looked him over from head to toe, her brow raised. Then her mouth dimpled in a cheeky half-smile. “My grandmother used to warn me away from the singers who’d come to call at High Tide. Seems she was right to.” Singer. Did she think him such? In truth he was a bit of everything. A bit of nothing. He felt like something under her gaze, like he could be something. “Is that a promise?”

“Do you want it to be?”

“It is discourteous to answer a question with another question.” But she was smiling as she said it, a slightly broader smile.

Seven save me, he thought, you’re so lovely, I can barely breathe. Princess Rhaenys was right to warn her away from those singers; one look at her smile and they must have yearned to carry her off over their shoulders, to sail away with her under the cover of night. What he said when he found his tongue was, “You are enjoying this.”

She stepped backwards away from him, and towards her dragon. The dragonkeepers had saddled her while they were talking. Moondancer was still tense; would a flight see her settled as well as a song? “Why we came is a matter of little and less enjoyment.” Baela paused, uncharacteristically grave, then her voice brightened, “So, why not seek it where I may?” She looked at him over her shoulder and winked.

A smile played across Daeron’s mouth. “Is that a promise?”

“Do you want it to be?”

He was laughing as he called to her retreating form. “Tis discourteous to answer a question with another question.”

Her merry backward wave was the only answer he received.

Read more on Ao3

[bean-writes]

Banana Fish - I Won't Go Back

~THE FINAL CHAPTER~

Yeah, there's actually no quote or snippet from the final chapter that I can put in here without spoilers. So here's some random Banana Fish GIFs to pull on your heartstrings.

Banana Fish - I Won't Go Back

Griff swore to get to the bottom of Max Lobo's mysterious death. But when Griffin turns up dead in his apartment after discovering something that will bring down Dino's empire, the quest for revenge is passed to his brother Ash, the leader of a rival gang. Things get interesting when Ash discovers that Griffin's key to bringing down Dino's empire is 19-year-old Eiji Okumura, a Japanese boy who was Dino's slave. Now they team up to bring down the corrupt gang leader and destroy the dangerous drug Banana Fish.

[Ao3 and FFN]

[sun-citadel]

Logs of a Maverick Hunter is now complete !

[thesilversun]

Chapters: 3/3 Fandom: 莲花楼 | Mysterious Lotus Casebook (TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Di Feisheng/Li Lianhua, Di Feisheng & Fang Duobing, Fang Duobing & Li Lianhua Characters: Di Feisheng, Li Lianhua, Fang Duobing Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, di feisheng needs a hug and will get one eventually, Insomnia, minor injury, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, all three of them are traumatised in different ways, li xiangyi's is cured of the poison but his health is never going to be what it once was, Hopeful Ending, let them all heal together, Di Feisheng centric, the mortifying ordeal of allowing yourself to be cared for, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence Summary:

Sequel to Under Moonlight, We Change Our Futures Yet Again -

https://archiveofourown.org/works/49748008

For the first time that Di Feisheng can truly remember, he is absolutely free. He can go anywhere, choose any life he wants, and do whatever pleases him. And he’s made his choices. He’ll go to the Lotus Tower, and choose to live there on whatever terms Li Xiangyi will agree to, and do…well there are many things he wants to do to Li Xiangyi.

Or Di Feisheng decides to leave the everyday running of Jinyuan Alliance to Wuyan, struggles with being able to relax or even sleep following having been alert for danger for so long, and goes to visit Li Xiangyi, because he's pinning his whole future on getting to be there with him. Exhausted and having not had time to process anything that's happened to him over the last couple of weeks - or possibly ever, Di Feisheng jumps to an awful conclusion regarding Li Xiangyi willingness to stay alive even though cured from a half heard conversation. The resulting situation leaving him in need of care and comfort.

[twostarry]

Chapters: 13/13 Fandom: Our Flag Means Death (TV) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Blackbeard | Edward Teach & Israel Hands, Blackbeard | Edward Teach/Stede Bonnet, Stede Bonnet & Israel Hands, Israel Hands/Original Male Character(s), Blackbeard | Edward Teach/Israel Hands, Blackbeard | Edward Teach/Stede Bonnet/Israel Hands, Stede Bonnet/Israel Hands Characters: Israel Hands, Blackbeard | Edward Teach, Stede Bonnet Additional Tags: Shapeshifting, Bodyswap, Magic, Alternate Universe - Magic, Identity Porn, Identity Issues, POV Israel Hands, Israel Hands Loves Blackbeard | Edward Teach, Sexual Tension, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Crack Treated Seriously, Israel Hands-centric, Israel Hands is Bad at Feelings, Israel Hands Has Issues, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Blow Jobs, Semi-Public Sex, Mild Smut, Sexual Roleplay, Complicated Relationships, Rough Sex, Anal Sex, Top Stede Bonnet, Sub Israel Hands, Bottom Israel Hands, Israel Hands Has Feelings, No Spoilers, Not Season/Series 02 Compliant, steddyhands, Israel Hands Redemption, Curses, Curse Breaking, Transformation Summary:

Izzy pisses off the wrong person in a market on a strange island and receives a strange mark for his troubles. He initially arrives back at the Revenge as his twentysomething self. But he soon learns that there's more to the curse he's been afflicted with than simply making him younger. He discovers that he has the ability to become other people, though it's difficult and hard to control. Is it actually a curse? Or is there more going on than meets the eye?

***

Features mild smut with some FTB and an emotional journey for Izzy.

**

I just finished this fic last night! Not sure how to get it out to people who might enjoy it. 

[fanstuff2]

Chapters: 7/7 Fandom: One Piece Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Monkey D. Luffy/Trafalgar D. Water Law Characters: Mugiwara Kaizoku | Strawhat Pirates, Heart Pirates Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Post-Wano Arc (One Piece), Wano Arc (One Piece) Spoilers, Chapter 1044 specifically, POV Alternating, Background Zosan, the zany adventures of the StrawHeart Pirates, Light Sexual Content, Slow Burn, Fluff and Humor, the crew side-eyeing Luffy like "Is he okay?", mentions of other relationships Summary:

Following the events of the raid on Onigashima, the Straw Hat pirates wonder why Luffy seems distracted on his quest to find the One Piece... And what's with his sudden rapt interest in Trafalgar Law?

Or,

Luffy almost dies, makes a deal with a god, and falls in love. Law's along for the ride.

[charjararts]

I finally finished this after two years of not writing anything on it :,)

Chapters: 15/15 Fandom: 鬼滅の刃 | Demon Slayer: Kimetsu no Yaiba (Anime) Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death Relationships: Hashibira Inosuke/Kamado Tanjirou Characters: Kamado Tanjirou, Hashibira Inosuke, Kamado Nezuko, Kamado Family (Kimetsu no Yaiba), Kamado Kie, Kamado Takeo, Kamado Tanjurou, Kamado Hanako, Kamado Shigeru, Kamado Rokuta, Agatsuma Zenitsu, Kanzaki Aoi (Kimetsu no Yaiba), Tomioka Giyuu (described), Kibutsuji Muzan Additional Tags: Demon Inosuke, AU, alternative universe, A lot of Hurt, Angst, Comfort, it'll be dark, aged up characters from chapter 3, Tanjiro's family is most of the time alive, Slow Burn, Some Cursing, Some Fluff, because I love writing fluff, demon cannibalism, And a lot of pain, no beta we die like men

Summary:

Strange and horrible things happen when the moon turns blood red in the middle of the day. It calls the demons, it lures them out of their shadows into the red light. It strengthens their muscles and increases their thirst for blood... ~ When Tanjiro’s father is gone without telling his family where he is, they start to worry. It’s not usual for him to disappear like that. Tanjiro decides to look for him but finds himself in the light of the blood moon. The events of that day leave him with a shattered heart and the promise to kill every demon that will cross his path. Fuelled by anger he tries to find answers of that horrible day finding himself yet again in the red light of the moon. But that day he breaks the oath to himself by being unable to kill a demon with a boar draped around his neck. A demon that won’t leave him alone anytime soon.

[andtheny]

[the-fiction-vixen]

Chapters: 4/4 Fandom: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Midoriya Izuku/Todoroki Shouto, Midoriya Izuku & Todoroki Shouto Characters: Midoriya Izuku, Todoroki Shouto Additional Tags: Friends to Lovers, Childhood Friends, brief mentions of abuse, Four seasons of life, Starting A Family, Growing Old Together, Feelings Realization, First Meetings, First Love, First Kisses, Confessions, Jealousy, Fluff, Children to elders, Boy Love, gay fluff, Gay Characters, Adoption, Building A Home, Gay, Seasons as a plot device (kinda), Seasons, Married couple eventually, Gay Romance, tododeku - Freeform, Complete Summary:

Snippets into the lives of Izuku and Shouto as they navigate the 4 seasons of their lives together, from the new beginnings in Spring to contentment in their Winter years.

[ssskol]

Magnolia is Complete!

Thank you so much to all of those who joined me along this semi-arduous journey of getting back into larger format writing through two less-than-well men. I hope you’ve enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it, which is to say only a moderate amount. It may get a refresh in the future, but not any time soon. I’ve set the link to start from the beginning if it’s your first time seeing this.

If you’re interested in future projects of mine, such as an upcoming original work centered around two anthro men* in a situationship in a fictionalized Pacific Northwestern Gothic setting, I will either be turning this account into a hub for that and be using a slightly more professional moniker, or direct people to a new account.

[kyri45]

[theothermaidoftarth]

Daeron Targaryen, son of Viserys I and Alicent Hightower

Excerpt from my fic Song for Evermore:

It was not usual that newly ascended lords travel to the Red Keep to do homage to the Iron Throne, to the Crown, but Ormund Hightower had done so at the behest of his uncle, the Lord Hand. He performed the commendation ceremony twice, bare-headed and weaponless as a sign of his submission; once before the court, full to bursting with spectators highborn and low, and then again in the king’s chambers with the queen, Hand, members of the Small Council and the Keep’s septon as witnesses. Thus was Ormund invested as the new Lord of the Hightower, Lord of the Port, Beacon of the South, Defender of the Citadel, Oldtown’s Voice, Defender and Lord. Such a heavy weight of titles. His shoulders could bear them up, as easily as he’d borne up Daeron on one arm and Lyonel on the other as boys, while they giggled and shrieked.

Daeron was five when he first went to Oldtown. He couldn’t remember much of his first impressions, only that he’d thought it was a holiday, at first. Until it dawned on him that he wasn’t going back to the Red Keep, not unless the king or queen wished him back. He had been dumped at the Hightower like a sack of weevil-infested barley. His mother saw it differently, barely a day into the Hightowers’ presence at the Keep she had said to him: “I know it was necessary you be here but I still rather wish you had stayed away. This is not the place for you. You are too good to be drawn into… all of this.”

He had felt a curious roiling in his stomach. Was court not where he was supposed to be as the son of the king? Third son, yes, but a dragonrider; a consummate courtier, personable, well-spoken, courteous, the image of charm and grace itself — or so many and more courtiers had gushed since his arrival three days before. Why have they been hiding you away, my prince. You are ever so delightful. You are the sun itself, smiling down upon us all. Oh Prince Daeron, you are a charmer; not like your brothers at all. It is true what they say, the Reach does produce fine crop. Fine, indeed.

The praise was heady, like the first sip of strongwine. He couldn’t yet tell if he liked it or not. He’d only known such praise from foreign envoys come to call at the Hightower, or Reachlords who had daughters they were looking to marry off. He was just Daeron to his Hightower family, even after he claimed Tessarion at the age of nine. Just Daeron with ink liable to stain his fingers from all his scribblings; just Daeron who was getting a bit of squint from all the reading he did even by dying candlelight; just Daeron who was more likely to follow than lead.

But now to the courtiers of the Red Keep, he was the sun that lights up our sky; a jewel of the age; the Beacon of the Crownlands (Beacon of the Crown, one daring lady whispered).

Why send him away, a mere babe of five yet keep Aegon, perpetually drunk, teary if not sneering, eyes lingering where they shouldn’t and hands too if the way the maidservants acted told it true. Their wariness had extended to Daeron too until they saw his kindness was no illusion, that he acted as such with everyone, highborn or low. He would ask but he was wary of feeling his mother’s loving touch. It is only because I love you that I do this, he heard her say the very day he arrived as she gripped Aegon’s chin in her hand. Everything I have done has been for you, to prepare you and save y— She noticed Daeron then, lingering by the doorway of her rooms, half afraid to come in. She smiled at him wanly and released Aegon. Her eldest son scuttled away, the dismissal unheard but clear. That was when she said she wished he had stayed away. Where is duty? she asked the Crown Princess Rhaenyra on High Tide one dark night. Where is sacrifice? Trampled under your little foot again. He thought, Was I one of your sacrifices, Mother?

[ohbo-ohno]

Kinktober Day 31 - Free Use

Poly 141 x Reader - 4.3k (on ao3)

summary: Glimpses into your life as a housewife and free use toy for the 141 post-retirement. (Reader POV, second person)

cw: soft sex, half-drunk sex, light somnophilia, anal sex

note: last kinktober of the month! sorry i got off by a day at the end here, but i hope you guys have enjoyed everything so far :) btw this is less "free use" and more "sex with the 141 while living in domestic bliss"

Your days are filled with sex. Sex with all of your boys, in every position you can think of, in every room of the house they’d bought for the five of you after retiring. 

You all split the chores evenly these days. No one does more than they’re more comfortable with, and you’ve all found your stride, something to give you purpose, after the rigidity of the military.

Gaz has taken to bee-keeping. As odd as it sounds, he’s got the patience for it, and he’s quite protective of his bees, even has nearly an entire library of books he’s taught himself with. Price helps him out by selling the honey he harvests, keeping track of his profits and managing the household’s finances. 

Ghost hunts, spends his days out finding game to bring home, tracking herds and predators around your property. Johnny does a little of everything - fixes things when they break, chops firewood every morning, helps Simon skin his prey, tries to help Gaz and his bees. 

And you take care of the house. You make the meals, clean up after everyone, and find yourself perfectly happy to keep your men fed and warm. 

Your other chore is to bend over whenever they want. Well, bend into any position whenever they want, Ghost and Soap tend to enjoy getting a bit more creative. It’s not really much of a chore, considering how eager you are to do it.

It’s a great deal for you. Johnny and Kyle are always eager to get you off, and neither Simon nor Price is stingy with the orgasms these days either. You live your life floating between domestic labor and orgasms - not a bad existence, by your metric. You get to live without a care in the world, four men to take care of and four men to take care of you. It’s like a dream come true.

———————————————————————

You hum to yourself as you dance around the kitchen, wearing nothing but a frilly apron as you wait for your pancakes to cook. The small radio on the dining room table plays music from a local radio station, something cheery to start your day. It’s hard not to smile, with sunshine pouring in from the windows and a batch of fresh eggs to scramble on the stove. 

Your small moment of bliss is interrupted by a pair of hands on your hips and a large body bracketing yours.

There isn’t even a moment of fear, you instinctually lean back into the man behind you. A moment later, a rough beard brushes over your cheek.

“Pancakes this mornin’?” Price asks, big paws resting on the softness of your hips.

“Hmm,” you hum, tilting your head to claim his lips. He sways the two of you back and forth slowly, to the beat of the song, and lets you take your time with him. “Blueberries in yours,” you tell him when you come up for a breath of air.

One hand shifts to your ass, the other to your stomach, and you feel him smile. “Thank you, love. Got time for a quick round before they burn?”

You mimic his smile, let him bend you over slowly. “You’re just in time, Captain, I haven’t cracked the eggs yet.”

“Perfect,” he purrs, pressing himself to your backside. He tucks his plaid pajama pants down a little, rubbing his warm morning wood against you. You fold your arms beneath your head, let your eyes drift closed as his fingers make quick work of getting you ready.

Moments later, the heavy length of his cock fills you slowly. You moan, shifting your legs a little bit wider as he massages your waist.

“There you go,” he sighs, bottoming out and grinding himself slowly inside of you. “Tight as always, perfect girl.”

You giggle a little drowsily, wiggling your hips against his. “Always for you, John.”

He sighs contentedly, pulling out slowly. “Don’t I know it.”

He fucks you slowly, a steady pace that drags against all your most sensitive parts on every thrust. John’s thick, and the stretch isn’t quite comfortable with no prep. But you’re still a little loose from your time with Soap and Gaz last night, so it’s far from painful to take him.

He hunches over you as he gets closer and closer to the edge, elbows resting on either side of you and breath ghosting across your nape.

“Aw,” you hear Soap say,voice rough from sleep as he steps into the kitchen. “I wanted first go today.”

“Early bird gets the worm, Johnny,” Gaz teases, settling into a chair in the little breakfast nook Simon had built soon after moving in. “You’re the one who stayed up so late with her last night.”

“Wasn’t just me, jackass, you’re the one who-”

“Boys,” Price grunts, hips slamming against yours, leaving you squirming beneath him. “Will you shut the fuck up while I’m balls deep in our girl?”

You can’t help but snort beneath him, pushing yourself up enough to arch your back further, stick your ass further out for him. “Ye-yeah, boys.”

“Hush,” Price scolds, one hand shifting to your neck where he forces you flat to the counter again. “‘M almost there…”

He groans lowly as he buries himself deep inside of you, pumping slowly as you tighten up, trying to milk him. “Fuck, feels good…”

You smile against your arms as the pleasure that had been building inside of you starts to dull to a simmer, something warm in the root of you.

Price pulls out only moments later, two thick fingers tucking into you to keep any of his come from dripping out. “Keep me safe inside you, pretty thing, c’mon. Clench down.”

You take a deep breath and try your best to listen, straightening up and doing your best to keep yourself from dripping down your thighs. 

He turns you around, leaning you back against the counter and cupping your cheeks in his hands, tugging your face up to give you a soft kiss. “Thank you,” he whispers into your mouth, just quiet enough for you to hear.

“Of course.” You reach up to grab his wrists, holding him close. “Never gonna say no to you, John.”

The two of you linger in the moment, sunlight warming your skin as you breathe into each other.

It’s Soap that interrupts you, an intentionally obnoxious clearing of his throat nearly making you jump. “Any chance at coffee sometime today, bonnie?”

You huff a laugh into Price’s mouth, pushing him away and shooting a half-playful look to Johnny. “Can’t give me a minute of peace, can you?”

He smirks, “Nope.”

John scoffs as he pulls away, moving you with him and giving you a quick tap to the ass to send you over to the counter with the coffee machine. “Someone’s gotta teach you some patience, MacTavish.”

“If Ghost still hasn’t gotten it into him, no one is,” Gaz laughs, shifting enough for Price to join him on the bench. 

“Who says I haven’t?” Ghost says, stepping from the hallway. He’s already got a cigarette lit between his lips, and you wave him away with a spatula.

“No!” You scold, trying to shoo him closer to the window. “No smoking in my house! You know I hate the smell.”

Ghost rolls his eyes good-naturedly but lets you herd him to the open window, resting a shoulder on the windowsill and blowing a mouthful of air. You hmph, satisfied, and move to flip the pancakes. “You’re not the one who has to get that smoke out of all the furniture, you know.”

Ghost sighs, but he’s dramatic enough about it for you to know that he’s intentionally exaggerating his annoyance. “Awful early for all that nagging, woman.”

You glare at him playfully, picking up an egg to crack. “Awful early for a cig, too.”

He huffs and you crack your egg, the kitchen shifting into a comfortable silence. You continue your humming as the song changes to something more upbeat, unable to keep a smile from your face.

———————————————————————

You’re half tipsy, giggling into Soap’s mouth as the two of you stumble into the house. You manage to trip over the lip of the entrance, and you yelp as you start to fall.

Johnny just barely manages to twist and catch the both of you in time, grunting loudly as he hits the ground. The breath is knocked from the both of you, and you lay there in the dark for a moment, still.

You’re giggling as soon as you can breathe again, unable to stay still with all the energy and wiggling against his chest. “Jo-Johnny!”

“What?” He pants, still not fully able to take a breath in. You can see the outline of a smile, though, and his hands come up to fully cup your ass. “You were the one taht tripped, lass!” 

That only makes you laugh harder, kicking your feet against his shins. “I-I know!”

Now he laughs, a full-bellied sound that has you bouncing on his chest. He manages to push himself up so that you’re in his lap, and presses his mouth to yours without warning.

You make a high sound of surprise but quickly kiss him back, licking into his mouth when he parts his lips. 

Your kiss is messy, both of you a little too drunk and a little too needy to bother for tact. Johnny’s softer than he usually is, all tongue and no teeth. You wrap your arms around his neck, shifting so your knees rest on either side of him and squeeze his hips.

“Need you,” he pants into your mouth, shifting you over him to start a slow grind. “Need to be inside you, bonnie.”

“Yeah, please,” you say, quickly dropping your hands to his belt and clumsily working at his belt. It takes several tries for you to get it undone, and both of you get more and more desperate. Your underwear get more and more damp as you work yourself over the rough denim of his jeans, your skirt rucked up around your hips as he palms at your ass.

“Come on,” he growls, landing a harsh slap against the meat of your thigh. You yelp at the sting, then giggle, and finally manage to get his belt loose, quickly tugging it off.

“There you go,” you mumble, throwing the belt to the side and hearing it slide against the hardwood. “C’mon, c’mon, need you now, Johnny.”

He nearly snarls into your mouth, jerking your panties to the side and stuffing two fingers into you with no warning. You jolt higher on your knees and moan, digging your nails into his shoulder.

“Sit still,” he growls, tugging you back down and scissoring his fingers quickly to spread you. He slips a third finger in easily, your cunt already slick and dripping for him. “Stop fuckin’- stop wigglin’ around.”

You can’t help but giggle again, pushing your smile against his lips and nipping at his chin. “Can’t hold me down, MacTavish?”

You feel him grin, growling playfully, and before you can keep prodding him he’s got you flipped onto the floor beneath him. You squeal when he somehow manages to keep his fingers inside of you, pushing deep as he pins you down. He tucks your knees higher, both of your legs resting on his shoulders.

“I’ll show you held down, lass,” he growls, smile just barely visible above you. “Want it rough, then?”

You bite back another laugh, pushing up just enough to bite his bottom lip and tug it down with you. “As rough as you’ve got, MacTavish.”

It works as the perfect taunt you’d meant it as, and he’s buried in your tight heat before you can try and push him any further. Your head falls back against the hardwood floor as his falls to your throat, both of you moaning loudly as his hips meet your thighs.

“Fuck,” he groans, teeth pressed against your throat. When you arch your neck even further, he bites into your flesh, sucking a hicky and making you ever wetter between the thighs. “Fuck.”

“She tight, Johnny?”

You both yelp at the sudden voice, Johnny jolting away from your neck and shifting inside of you, causing you both to melt again.

There, in the corner of the room, is Ghost. He’s smoking a cigarette by the window, illuminated only by the glow of his cigarette butt and the moon. You can’t quite see his expression, but you can just imagine the cocky smirk.

Johnny groans above you, sinking back down to press kisses along your throat and forcing your knees almost to the side of your head. “Scared the shit outta’ me, Ghost,” he sighs, pulling out just enough to give you a few tiny thrusts. You moan, letting yourself relax into the floor.

“Not surprised,” Ghost says, and you watch as he stubs out the cigarette and take a few steps to where the two of you are tangled in each other. “How much did you two have to drink?”

You laugh at the question, but it melts into a moan as Johnny starts to find a rhythm that works for both of you. Your knees nearly knock against your own face as he makes his way across your neck, leaving bruising kisses. 

“Not-” you choke a bit on a particularly rough thrust, just barely managing to keep your eyes open and watch as Simon settles into an armchair. “Not that much.”

“Yeah,” Johnny pants, lifting himself up enough to look down at you. “How-how much’ve you had, L.t.?”

Ghost snorts, taking a swig from a beer bottle you hadn’t noticed before. “Less’n you two, I can tell that much.”

You and Johnny both snicker, half out of breath already, but none of you try and keep speaking as Johnny starts to really fuck into you, finding a perfect rhythm that’s just a little messier than usual, a little jerkier. 

The two of you make no attempt to be quiet, moaning and whining loudly as you work to find that peak. Even with folded in half as you are, you try to push into him as much as you can to help him hit the perfect spot inside of you. 

You nearly scream when he does, clenching down so tightly onto him that he’s forced to a still inside of you, his length throbbing in time with your heartbeat. 

The world blurs around you as Johnny takes your lips again, pressing your tongues together in a slick slide as he batters inside of you.

“Clo-close,” you gasp, clawing down his shoulders. Your nails dig in enough through his shirt to have him moaning, arching further into your touch.

“Me too, bonnie.”

He shifts enough to lean his weight further onto your thighs, newly freed hand smoothing down your chest and stomach to work against your clit. You melt beneath him, muscles going loose as you turn into nothing but a limp doll for him to fuck.

Your eyes squeeze shut as your orgasm starts to overcome you, Johnny’s work against your clit and the hot length inside of you finally shoving you over the edge.

“Fuck- fuck!” Johnny nearly shouts above you, your orgasm triggering his own. You cling tight to him, dragging his body as close to you as possible while your muscles clench down around him. The two of you are nearly drooling in each other’s mouths, eager for as much physical touch as possible.

It feels like an impossible amount of time later when you hear Ghost crouch down next to you, see his shadow cast over both you and Johnny. “You two done, then?”

You feel Johnny huff where he’s leaned against your cheek, feel his smile grow against yours. 

“Yeah, Si,” you say, squirming a bit beneath Johnny to try and get out from under him. “I think we’re done.”

Johnny gans a little but he obliges and shifts back enough for his softened cock to pull out of you. You both whine in sync at the separation, and he finally lets your legs fall to the ground, heels thudding against the floor.

Johnny rolls off of you, flopping to the floor next to you. “Carry us to bed, L.t.”

You giggle and blink up at Simon, softened from your orgasm and the lingering buzz from your night out. “Yeah, L.t.,” you lift your arms high, making grabby hands like a toddler. “Carry us to bed.”

Ghost snorts above you, but he still leans down and scoops you up beneath the knees and the back. You squeal when he hefts you over his shoulder into a fireman's carry. He ducks low again and you grasp onto the bottom of his sweatshirt, then giggle when Johnny flops bonelessly over Ghost’s other shoulder.

He carries the two of you effortlessly down the hall, and Johnny’s soft laugh joins yours - well, at least before you hear a muffled slap and he quiets himself/ Of course that only makes you laugh, earning you a spank of your own.

You’re dropped rather carelessly onto the massive mattress all five of you share these days, hand flopping against what you’re sure is Price’s chest as Ghost falls on top of Johnny where he’s dropped.

You hear a muffled oof! from next to you and curl into Price with a smile, tucking yourself close to his chest. He rumbles a low noise, instinctually tucking you close. You can hear Gaz getting annoyed with Ghost and Soap, feel him kicking at them to fight for his own spot on the mattress. You fall asleep with Ghost’s back to yours and Price’s chest to yours, surrounded by warmth.

———————————————————————

You groan into the sheets in frustration, fists clenched tight. “Simon, come on, please.”

He spanks you sharply, but the pain is hardly noticeable compared to the need you’re drowning in. 

“Quiet,” he grunts, three fingers spreading your ass. “Need to stretch you out properly, don’t want any tears.”

You whine, arching your back and pushing your ass further into the air. “I’m ready, I promise, just need you inside. I’ve been stretched for the last ten minutes!”

“And you’ll get stretched for ten more if you don’t quit complaining.”

It’s almost impossible to bite back a complaint at that, but you manage to dull it down to just a near-painful eye roll. You try your best to stay still for him, stay patient, even as you feel like your pussy is dripping like a faucet.

Ghost has fucked you with far less prep than this, you know he’s just trying to be an asshole - no pun intended. You also know that the more you rush him, the slower he’ll go. So you force yourself a little looser, let your body sink more comfortably into the position he’s got you in.

It doesn’t make the wait any easier.

You’re not sure how long it’s really been when he finally deems you stretched enough, but he finally pulls his fingers free. You whimper at the cold dribble of lube as he spreads a bit more across your stretched hole, the slick sounds echoing in the room telling you he’s likely spreading it across himself too.

“Alright, love,” he says, notching himself at your back hole with both hands on your hips. “Loosen up for me now.”

The stretch is sinful as he finally gives you his cock, enough for you to feel the sting but not at a painful point. Your eyes roll back in pleasure instead of frustration, and your knees shift just a little wider to welcome him more fully into your body.

“Fuck, you feel good<’ he grunts, grip tightening on your hip.

On a normal night with Ghost, you’d expect minimal prep and long rounds of edging. He likes to keep you from coming for as long as possible, then coax an orgasm that feels earthshattering from you when he finally shoves you off that ledge. Either that, or he fucks you quick and dirty - in the yard outside, in the shower, in the middle of the night, really any time he feels like getting off. With you around, there’s no need to masturbate. That leaves you getting bent over and used at any time he feels the slightest urge to get off, but you couldn’t mind less.

Now, though, Ghost paces himself far more slowly than usual. His thrusts are long, bottoming out and pulling back until the head of his cock just barely breaches your hole. If you couldn’t feel the way his hands bruise your hips, you’d almost call his pace leisurely. 

The two of you are near silent as he fucks you, content to fill the air with soft moans and the occasional whine instead of dirty talk. It feels nice, such slow sex with Simon. It’s a side of him he rarely lets you see, even now.

He knows you can’t come from anal alone, and is feeling generous enough to grab one of your hands and shift it down, telling you, “Rub your clit for me, love. Wanna feel you come.”

And, well, who are you to disobey?

You bring yourself to a slow, rolling orgasm with rhythmic circles against your clit, hips working against his even with his grip. You moan more loudly now, moith open and spit spreading across the pillow.

“Si-Simon,” you gasp. “Feels so good, so deep.”

“Yeah? Deep in your ass, huh, love?”

“Mhmm, mhmm. Can hardly br-breathe around you, Si.”

“I know, so big in your little hole. You’re taking me well, though, being such a good girl for me. Gonna - fuck, love - gonna make me come, give you a nice load then plug you up.”

“Yes, yes…”

“You want that? Want to be stuffed with my come? Keep me inside of you ‘til I say you can take the plug out?”

“Yes, I’ll keep it in for you, Si, be so good for you.”

“Oh, I know it, love. Always a good girl for me, most perfect girl… fuck, feel so good around me…”

He groans when he finally gets himself off, pulling you back onto his harsher thrusts and letting your channel squeeze the come from him. You rub your clit a few more times, ignoring the aftershocks in favor of forcing your muscles to milk him a bit.

When he finally pulls out, he tucks a good-sized plug into your loosened hole before any of his come can slip out. You shift from your knees to your stomach with a soft hum, tugging a pillow into your arms as your eyes drift shut.

“You stayin’ in here for a bit?” Ghost asks, brushing some of your hair away from your face and dipping down to press a dry kiss to your cheek.

“Hmm. Gonna take a nap before dinner.”

“Alright. Need any help tonight?”

“No,” you hum, curling deeper into the bedding. “You can set the table, if you really want.”

You hear him laugh as he pulls away, weight shifting off of the mattress. “I’ll leave that to Johnny, I think.”

A few moments later the door click softly shut behind him, and you float into a peaceful slumber while trying to half-plan dinner. 

———————————————————————

You’re half-asleep when you feel someone shift in bed next to you, their body covering yours. There’s a distinct hardness against the small of your back, and you press back against him.

“Stay still,” you hear Gaz whisper in your ear as he urges you further onto your stomach. You hum a little in response as he settles over you, kneeing your thighs apart enough for him to rest between them. “Don’t wanna wake anyone else up, right sweetheart?”

You hum again in what’s probably supposed to be agreement, but is really just a half-asleep sound. You trust all your boys, though, so you’re perfectly content to let Kyle do whatever he wants.

You sleep naked these days, so it’s easy for him to spread your cheeks a bit, to rub at your folds. You’re still a little damp from the shower sex with Price you’d had right before bed, and Kyle doesn’t seem to think you need much more than that.

You’re almost asleep again when you feel the tip of his cock at your hole, and then the familiar weight of him entering you. It’s hard not to groan, especially when you’re so dazed, but you think you do a good job.

Well, until Kyle shushes you loudly, stuffing a few of his fingers into your mouth. 

You make a small offended noise, but it shifts into a sound of pleasure when he sinks fully inside of you.

“Hush. Don’t wanna share you right now, just needed to feel you for a bit.”

You feel his hips shift against yours before he sort of falls to the side, taking you with him. You’re left spooning him, his cock buried deep inside of you and kept warm by your body.

He sighs, pleased, against your back and pulls his fingers from your mouth, letting his hand float down to rest on one of your breasts. He squeezes you for a few moments, but that only works you up more and has you squirming against him.

Kyle makes a small, whining noise and squeezes you more tightly to him. “Stay still, love. Just want to hold you, let you hold me. Go back to sleep, yeah?”

You sigh, debate trying to get him to finish what he started, but ultimately decide that it sounds like far too much work for your current state. 

So instead you let yourself relax into Gaz, body quickly adjusting to the weight and stretch of him. It’s easier than you might’ve thought to doze off like that, held close to Kyle’s chest.

[fonulyn]

since I've seen it talked about in several places recently:

if you are going to do a whump- or kink- or ANY-tober or other similar challenges please please please don't post them as one fic with 31 chapters unless it actually is one coherent fic. if they're 31 completely separate fics or ficlets then please just make a collection for them or just post them as separate fics. it doesn't matter if they're only 100 words or if you think they're too small or insignificant to post alone, they're not.

and why this?

because if you post all 31 of them in one fic the tagging is absolutely useless. if I look for things to read on ao3 I'm gonna look at the tags, and if the tags include something that's a dealbreaker for me, i won't even click on the fic. I might not even SEE the fic because I've filtered out the nope-tag! so I'm gonna lose out on reading 30 perfectly nice fics because of one fic that my nope-tag applied to.

ao3 is about archiving. it's about clear tagging and being informative. there is nothing informative about it if the tags in the fic apply to random chapters while others have nothing to do with it. it makes so much more sense to have each work as an individual fic with its own individual tags and warnings, so readers can make informed choices.

of course, you do you. I can't police what other people decide to do. but personally, I find it incredibly frustrating to weed through 31 chapters to find the ones I actually want to read. so I don't. I automatically scroll past all works posted like that. and I know some others do, too.

there is absolutely no shame in posting short things on ao3. there is no minimum word count. no one is going to look at you funny if you post a small ficlet on its own, I promise. it's just going to make some readers very happy when they can actually find the things they want to read.

so, please. at least consider the upsides of posting each work as their own fic.

signed, one very frustrated fandom grandma.

[massacregirl]

This is... finished. I finished a fangio. 64 chapters, every week for over a year.

Ofc, immediately started work on a second season. I have big plans. I've got another fic in the works too - guess you could say I've been bitten by the bug. This has been an incredible journey, I'm so happy I decided to write fanfic in the first place.

If this is your first time seeing this, hi, Shine is basically the result of me and my friend in late 2021 talking about stuff that would have been cool if it was in Cyberpunk 2077 - one of them being a lifepath that started in Maelstrom, and your V having to navigate the world with a face like a broken stoplight. I started writing Shine that same day, and the rest is history. Season One is finished now.

Be advised that I do try to stay faithful to the tone of the source material and that does mean dealing with some extremely heavy topics now and then - please read the tags and feel free to suggest any I should add. Graphic violence and sexually explicit content abound.