#irresistible fic

[ohsunnyboy]

steal your night (part 1) | sung hanbin ˚₊‧⁺˖

you never knew you had a boyfriend until sung hanbin eats your tiramisu and steals your heart under the stars of monaco

SERIES: a night in monaco — one, two

TAGS: fake dating, strangers to lovers, business man!hanbin, gn!reader, flirty hanbin and you ehe, meet cute <3, summer vibes

A/N: sorry for the disappearance lmao take my hanbin pining as an apology, and as always, purely self indulgent

WORDS: ~1300

Trouble comes when dessert is served.

Everything considered, it’s horrible timing. Sun setting just so over the Mediterranean, hearty chatter firing all around in all sorts of languages and your wine being warm company on a supposedly lonely night. It makes a perfect set-up as your spoon hovers mid-air as you prepare to dig into some well-deserved tiramisu.

Until someone slides into the very empty seat across from you, slips a crisp black business card across the table to you – it reads 'Sung Hanbin' – and uttering the most insane thing yet: "Love, I'm so sorry for being late!"

What.

You barely get to say anything before he's swooping in for la bise. As you lean in, his expensive cologne lingers like smoke in the air. It's a narrow dodge of your lips, but he swerves and lands a quick kiss to your right cheek and then dares to go for a second on your left. Consider yourself stunned because all you do is watch him pull away and a grin at you with a gorgeous smile.

You want to sit and gape for a second, let yourself breathe, and now with a longer look, let him breathe.

This, Hanbin, has flushed cheeks and is twitchy with how he holds your hand – when did that happen?! – across the table. There's a light sheen of sweat on his skin and not due to the heat, more like he's either embarrassed or nervous about this. He breathes in short, sharp gasps as if he's been running and mouths something to you.

Please play along. His hand still holds yours, and he squeezes just so.

Hanbin turned his head to the right slightly. Stood at a table near the entrance was a woman with a flowy silver dress on and hair pulled into quite a severe bun. Her pointed heels tapping on the spot and her jittery eyes glance over at you two, but quickly look somewhere else when she catches your curious gaze.

“She’s been trying to get me to buy her a meal all day,” he sighs. “Thing is, I even saw her scoping me out yesterday at a bar last night. I was naïve enough to buy her a drink to start some conversation, but she’s taken it as personal permission to stalk me. She clearly hasn’t gotten the memo.” And he squeezes your hand again, this time to comfort himself.

“What about me? What if I turn out to be some crazy that’s out to steal your Amex and claim my fifth husband?”

“You? No way, you have a top shelf wine and a second plate of tiramisu in front of you already. You're doing perfectly fine without my money," Hanbin lists before his gaze turns considering. "Unless... you weren't lying about the husbands.”

You laugh into your wine and eye Hanbin over the rim. "You wouldn’t look too bad in a wedding tux, pretty boy, who knows?”

The long column of Hanbin’s neck is exposed thanks to the open collar of his shirt. Revealing the delicate sun, moon and star on his collar that only keeps you stuck in wonder for longer.

You can only imagine how smooth the skin feels – under your hands and lips – but maybe that’s the wine talking when he sits there fine and handsome against the candlelight. The sunset paints saturated hues against his skin, you can barely see the blush that peeks above his collar thanks to it.

If you friends were here, you know what they’d say about him: trouble, hot and wealthy trouble.

“Eyes up here, love.” Your eyes leap back up to Hanbin’s to only see amusement in them. Getting caught flushes your face with heat but his eyes are dark enough to forget yourself in.

You try to push on, clearing your throat and pulling yourself together. “So, the deal is we act like lovers the rest of the night?” The weight of the word lovers is a syrupy one, overtly sweet and something far from familiar for you but Hanbin only smiles at it.

“Of course, love. Shouldn’t be too hard with someone as sweet as you,” he grins however his eyes still linger on that woman in silver, clearly on edge.

You drum your fingers on the table, the rush of meeting each other melting quickly in the air. Awkward tension is bound to seep in soon and you'll be damned if it does! you're not losing this chance no matter how much trouble this man could be.

A stroke of brilliance brings you to push forward your untouched plate of tiramisu over to him, careful with the spoon balancing precariously on the plate. “What?” you smile at his confused face. “I wasn’t eating it anyway and you need a distraction.” But he just raises his brows like he doesn't believe it.

At his reluctance, you sigh and begin to flag down a waitress.

“Hey! Hey, don’t kick me out please—I’ll eat it!… even pay for it!—” Hanbin flusters even further as you push a finger against his soft lips to shut him up as the waitress arrives.

It’s a beat of silence.

“Two more tiramisus, please.” Hanbin’s laugh of disbelief trails the waitress as she leaves.

What you do find out is that it’s stupidly easy to talk to Hanbin. You tell him why you’re even here in Monaco: about your crazy best friends marrying after years of adventures, about being the responsible one in a group of misfits, about growing up and never quite finding the one unlike how they did. Loneliness is a familiar tale on your tongue, the wine tinging everything you say with bitter honesty you’ve never been able to let out with anyone else.

With Hanbin, you learn about his job as a business consultant: his annoying – but endearing! – juniors Yujin and Gyuvin, how him and Zhang Hao – his other colleague – are out here for strictly business. Until of course, he met you.

“What are your doing out here so alone, anyway?” he probed. He’s so much closer now, having moved his chair to be next to you instead of opposite you. “You’re too pretty to be single but I really hope you are.”

You shrug off the flirting for once and let yourself disappear back into the chair. “Everyone else I know are in relationships so they’re all away on dates across the city. I figured stealing myself away on a self-date would be better than sitting lonely in a hotel room all night.” 

He hums, a low and melodic thing. You can feel the heat of him next to you, the weight of his presence and the cut of his cologne all over again. Though nothing prepares you when Hanbin takes your hand in his.

He raises it, gentle and kind, slow and despairing, and presses his lips to your ring finger.

"Well then, may I steal your night?" he asks like a dare. A whisper barely heard but shared between you two.

Eyes far too low and gaze far too heavy for a look between strangers. The implications are clearer than the night sky above. Hanbin's lips linger with a smirk, and you can feel everything in you screaming to look away before you melt into the floor but all you can do is stare.

Trouble. Is what your mind is screaming. It's what you really want after all this pining in silence. Someone to crash into your life and take you with them.

"You don't even know my name."

It comes out like an accusation. Trouble, trouble, trouble. It brings you here and leaves you dizzy, craving for more.

"Why would I need it, love. You'll be saying mine all night.”

The woman is long gone into the night so there's no need for this play-pretend. But trouble looks you in the eyes and you kiss him with a heart that yearns for more.

ahjbsdkh thanks so much for reading <33 i had a lot of fun writing this so a like and reblog would be nice if you enjoyed :] ⭒ masterlist

[starcurtain]

I think my favorite breed of RenHeng is definitely:

Even in the Shackling Prison, Dan Heng had just enough memories of Yingxing to be hopelessly, achingly in love with the man despite never meeting him in his current life, spending years agonizing over the cognitive dissonance of wanting to leave every single shred of his previous incarnation behind but being unable and unwilling to let go of the exquisite gentleness and warmth of that one person--

Only to be told that Blade is Yingxing. That his greatest source of horror and anger is the same person whose calloused fingers nightly trace the line of his cheek in his favorite dream, the one that used to make Dan Heng feel like a treasure, like something worth keeping--

And how, how is it fair that he's still being punished? How deep are the sins of his past that he isn't even allowed to keep the illusion of being wanted? How could Dan Feng take every fleeting glimmer of Yingxing's love and leave Dan Heng with only his hate?

How is he supposed to live, having all these broken, beautiful memories--and still having nothing at all?

[witchofthesouls]

That 3 AM, Energy drink-induced thoughts when trying to stay awake for work hits again:

Crossover: Transformers Prime x Undertale

What if June Darby was once Frisk but broke away to live a life that's not connected to that cycle?

What happens if June gets dragged back once more?

[barnesafterglow]

irresistible 

summary: you and matt can't stand each other. that doesn't mean you can keep your hands to yourself

pairing: matt murdock x fem!reader

word count: 1.6k

warnings: lawyer!reader, hate sex but also is it really, light bondage, fingering, this fic was written at my job

a/n: here's my next prompt!! i keep writing everything else because i'm stuck on the one i'm most excited about and i need to distract myself. i haven't written a lot of matt so make sure to reblog and comment so i know you enjoyed it!

you can join my kinktober taglist or follow @theafterglowlibrary to stay updated on when i post 🤍

kinktober masterlist ─ main masterlist

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” Foggy said as soon as you stepped into the office.

“Lovely to see you too, Franklin,” was your response as you breezed by him, knowing exactly where you were going.

“Matt is -”

“I don’t care,” you cut him off as you walked into Matt’s office, calmly closing the door behind you.

You heard the crash of something and had to assume he had done something unsightly to the coffee cup that had previously been in his hand, and it pulled a small smile at you - you could get under his skin like no other, and it was a point of pride for you.

Matt was on the phone when he heard you enter, stopping his pacing momentarily before continuing, completely ignoring your existence.

That was fine; you never expected it to be easy.

You waited patiently for Matt to finish his phone call, leaning with your back against the door. Hearing a creak on the other side, you kicked the sturdy wood with the back of your heel, and there was a muffled curse you knew was Foggy, because he had been trying to eavesdrop before there was even anything to eavesdrop on.

Finally, Matt hung up the phone and turned to face you, leaning forward on his desk with his hands. You took him in - the strong forearms where his sleeves were rolled up, the dip of his collarbone where his tie had been long discarded, the shadow of stubble along his jaw that you knew meant he hadn’t shaved in a couple days. Had probably been too busy running in the circles you created. You also saw the way his jaw clenched just from being in your presence.

It was glorious.

You got under Matt’s skin even worse than Foggy’s and it always worked out for you.

“Matthew,” you said cheerfully, and his jaw clenched even tighter.

The way he said your name through gritted teeth made you smile bright and you knew he could sense it.

“What do you want this time?”

“Aw, Matty, I can’t come visit an old friend?”

“We’re not friends.” There was that tick in his jaw again.

“So rude. Of course we’re friends.” You stepped forwards until the front of your thighs met the edge of his desk, leaning forward on your hands to match his stance. “You sure love to treat me like a friend, isn’t that right?”

“Why are you here?” He let out a deep breath, clear annoyance creeping across his features.

“You know exactly why I’m here.” Your hand slid forward until it touched his.

“I know.” He sighed. “Do you want to argue or are we going to get on with it?”

“Oh, Matty. We’re lawyers, of course we’re going to argue first.”

He removed the red tinted glasses from his face, pinching the bridge of his nose.

And so started the typical back and forth that always came with you visiting. You were a sell out, blah blah blah. Matt was an idiot, blah blah blah. You were scalping their clients by offering them a better deal and Matt and Foggy were sick of it. The argument rarely ever changed.

“Dear God,” Matt said, and for a second you thought he might actually be praying. Until you swore he looked you right in the eye. “I fucking hate you.”

And there it was - the pinnacle of every argument you had ever had since law school.

“I know.” You smiled again, taking slow steps around Matt’s desk until you pressed your body between it and his hard chest. “Show me how much you hate me.”

Like always, there was a brief moment of hesitation. Like always, he smashed his lips to yours in a flurry of anger, and it tasted oh so sweet.

Before you knew what was happening - even when you should expect it, Matt always managed to surprise you - he had you turned around and pressed a firm hand between your shoulder blades to keep you flat against his desk.

Once he was sure you would stay in place, his hands wandered down to toy with the hem of your skirt. When he pushed it up above the swell of your ass, he was met with the sight of a pretty little garter belt holding your stockings up. And no underwear.

“Do you always come here with the intention of me fucking you senseless?”

You looked back over your shoulder, pushing your ass back against him just enough to draw out a low moan. “Of course I do.”

The smirk on his face made you clench your thighs together, and he flared his nostrils as if he could smell your arousal.

Sure enough, when he slid his fingers through your folds, they came back wet with your slick, and he sucked them clean.

He leaned down, hands caging your body as he whispered in your ear, “Tastes as good as I wish you would be.”

That made you scoff. “Oh please. I’m only as good as you want me to be.” You stood, your back pressing against his chest. “Which isn’t good at all.”

It was like the words snapped the last tether of restraint he had, because he shoved you back down on the desk, one hand pinning you again while the other worked on undoing his belt. He barely had them off - just enough to free his cock and give anyone who happened to look up at his window a great view of his ass - before he buried himself in you.

You gasped at the sensation. No matter how many times you had him, no matter how wet you were, no matter if he had worked you open up or not, it was always a struggle to adjust to the size of him.

He gave you no time to settle, thrusting into you hard and fast. His hand left your back and you whined at the chill that came from him taking his heat away. Your eyes were closed, taking in the pleasure of him filling you, now unmoving, when he grasped your hands behind your back, wrapping something silky around them.

His tie. He was tying his hands behind your back with his necktie, and you were so shocked and turned on that you let him without any protest. That must have to come as a surprise to him.

“You’re not even gonna run your mouth? I’m shocked.” He didn’t give you a chance to speak, his thrusts picking up again and wiping any snide remark from your brain.

He tugged on the tie - tied much more tightly than you expected - until you stood with your back to his chest again, his hips never faltering. His left hand wrapped around your neck, squeezing ever so slightly, while his right worked on unbuttoning your shirt.

Once your shirt was untucked and free, he pushed down the cups of your lacy bra, exposing your tits to him. With one hand still firmly on your throat, he used the other to pinch and pull at your nipples, seeing what sounds he could draw from you.

The answer was a symphony of moans and whimpers and pleading that you would never admit to.

Your hand fell back, resting on his shoulder, and he turned his head to press kisses wherever he could reach - your temple, your jaw, your neck, until finally you turned your head and captured his lips with your own.

His mouth still moving against yours, he trailed his hand down your body until he was feeling the place where his body met yours, circling your clit before experimentally slipping a finger in alongside his cock.

The moan that left you was otherworldly. The burning stretch was the best thing you had ever felt, and when a second finger joined, you came, clenching around the intrusion.

“Good girl,” he whispered in your ear, his mouth still close enough for you to feel the heat of his breath on your face. He removed his fingers, sliding them into your mouth, just a tad down your throat, and you moaned again around them.

With no warning, he pushed you down onto the desk again, pounding into you until his thrusts turned sloppy and he spilled inside of you.

With gentle fingers, he removed the restraint from your wrists and then collapsed with his arms on either side of you, his body weight resting against your back.

You stayed like that for several minutes, catching your breath and just relishing in each other for that moment.

Finally, he pulled out of you, reaching into a drawer in his desk to pull tissues out to clean himself up. Usually, he handed you some as well and let you do the job, but this time he dropped to his knees, wiping the mix of your releases like he had done it a thousand times over. When he was done, he stood again and pulled your skirt down, smoothing it out.

You turned around, studying him for a moment. He didn’t look any different - same sex hair and swollen lips and dark eyes that you always thought saw more than he let on. But something was different. Something you weren’t sure you wanted to know at the moment.

But you couldn’t let an instance like that go, not completely, and after you buttoned your shirt and tucked it again, you slid his glasses back onto his face and gave him a gentle kiss.

“Bye, Matty.”

You didn’t look back at him, instead straightening your hair as best you could and stepping out of his office.

kinktober taglist *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

@treatbuckywkisses @sgt-barnesveins @bucky-barmes @opheliastark @sweetascanbee @writing-for-marvel @christywantspizza @hi-sarahh @highlyintelligentblonde @jjbunny14 @buckysfavoritereader 

[winepresswrath]

Oh so you are one of the jiang' soupbot' yanli who will throw jiang cheng under the bus for little xianxian. Cool

this like the time someone accused me of only caring about Wei Wuxian's feelings. thank you for the laugh anon but also are you lost.

[agent-troi]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The X-Files Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully, Fox Mulder & Dana Scully Characters: Fox Mulder, Dana Scully Additional Tags: Post-Episode: s02e13 Irresistible (X-Files), Season/Series 03, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Flashbacks, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Romantic Friendship, Friendship/Love, Sharing a Bed, Cuddling & Snuggling Summary:

In an instant, she was in another car, on another deserted road… or almost deserted.

  “I hope that’s your natural hair color,” she heard him say, his eerie calm a stark contrast to her overwhelming terror. “I’ve never had a redhead before.”

[scullysexual]

Five Times Mulder and Scully Shared A Bed (1/5)

i. Irresistible.

Mulder places the phone back on the receiver and trudges his way back to the car where Scully waits.

“Anything?” she asks, half asleep, as he enters the car. Scully leans against the seat, eyes fighting to stay open, her face still cut and bruised from her encounter with Pfaster. She should be home now but there were no flights available until tomorrow.

“Nothing,” Mulder answers with a shake of his head and a sorry smile. “But the manager was helpful, at least. He found another motel not too far from here that says they have rooms.”

“Let’s try there then,” Scully says tiredly.

A No Vacancies sign flashes neon at them as they pull into the parking lot. Mulder bashes his fist against the dashboard, anger, frustration and his own tiredness coursing through his body. He looks over to Scully, who’s face has also fallen at the sight of the sign.

“Maybe we should ask,” she suggests.

They undo their seatbelts and try their pitiful luck.

“Sorry, no space at the inn,” the manager from behind the desk calls as soon as they enter.

“We can sleep in a barn if you have one,” Mulder half jokes yet part of him remains serious if it means he can stop driving.

“Seriously,” the manager says.

“Seriously,” Mulder repeats back. “You don’t have anything?”

The manager’s eyes fall onto to Scully who lingers near the door, staying out of the way. His eyes frown.

“What happened to her?” the manager asks unceremoniously.

Not wanting to get into it, Mulder avoids the question.

“We were told you had rooms and based on all the empty spaces out there, I think you do.”

Clearly not getting his answers, the manager sighs and pulls open a drawer.

“I have one,” he says, throwing the key on the counter. Mulder quickly grabs it. “One,” the manager specifies. “The door is busted but if you’re that desperate you can have it.”

Mulder turns to Scully to gauge her opinion but she looks too tired to care.

“We’ll take it.”

It’s the lock that’s busted, it turns out but with the windows locked and a chair up against the door, they make do.

The room is just a room. A bed and a little corner table. That’s all. There’s not even a bathroom.

“Sorry I couldn’t find anything better Scully,” Mulder says whilst eyeing up the floor- his sleeping space for the night.

“It’s fine,” Scully mumbles. She’s already pulling back the covers on the bed.

“Could I have a pillow?”

Scully frowns. “Why? The bed is big enough for us both.”

Mulder pauses. He considered but after everything… “Are you sure?” he asks.

A pillow is thrown at him.

“Do whatever you want, Mulder.”

He looks at the pillow, then at the floor, then at the bed. A questionable stain on the carpet makes his decision for him and he makes his way to the unoccupied side of the bed.

He thinks nothing of it until he’s laying next to her. Sharing a bed with Scully. He can feel the heat from her body, her presence, her smell. He becomes aware of how big he is, how much space he just might be taking up. He moves to the edge, just to be sure she has enough space.

He’s so tired he can’t sleep. Scully’s breath evens out beside him and he’s envious at how quickly she can fall asleep. Then he repents that envy as it’s replaced with guilt. She’s just been through hell, he recalls.

Mulder shuts his eyes, wills his body to relax and let the sleep overcome him. He’s teetering on that edge when something touches his arm and he’s yanked from that almost slumber. He looks down to see Scully, her body curled around him on his little edge, all the space behind her. Her breath against his bare arm is soothing, little rhythmic puffs off air set up a gentle beat for him to fall asleep.

When the light shining through the see-through curtains wakes him up, Mulder panics when the space beside him is cold and empty. They took her again, is his first thought and he rips back the covers to haphazardly throw on his clothes and track her down.

The door opens and Scully emerges with a soft smile. The cuts not as red, the bruises not as new. He relaxes at the sight of her, throwing his own little smile towards her. He realises then how he slept the whole night through, she didn’t wake up- or at least he didn’t hear her. Did he ignore her cries, he wonders.

“How did you sleep?” he asks, his stomach knotting at the thought of her answer.

“Very well actually,” she answers, a little frown forming across her eyebrows as if she too has just realised she didn’t wake.

He thinks of how she curled up against him, her breath against his arm calming him down. Did he calm her too?

“We should go,” Scully says and Mulder realises that she’s dressed already. “The manager says there’s a flight to DC.”

Mulder nods and collects his clothes off the floor. He walks into the communal bathroom to get dressed, a smile on his face.

@today-in-fic | ao3

[megatron-fucks]

BIG spoilers for a megop WIP, also suicide mention

A touching hurt/comfort scene where Megatron nurses Optimus back to health after a suicide attempt. Except that Optimus is chained to the bed in a dark room, unable to move, for weeks with no interruption except when Megatron visits to hand-feed him and tend to his wounds.

[perexcri]

to hell and back again now exists as a physical object!

(cat for size comparison )

hello hello!! i’m here for an official post to brag about @chubsonthemoon, a dear and lovely friend/hamster/beautiful fic writer and binder/Sandman zine contributor(!!!) who recently bound To Hell and Back Again as a present 💜

chubs is a dear irl friend and is (as i said in my final a/n for thaba) quite literally the only reason i ever started reading or writing fic in the first place. we’ve become good friends over the past couple of years, and i’ve loved being able to embrace these aspects of fandom that i never allowed myself to when i was younger (for many reasons, but that’s another story), and it’s really all thanks to them.

so without further ado, here are some pics of their lovely work!! they’re going to be making their own post about it later, so i’ll be reblogging that here and linking to it in this post as well, because they’ll have far more cool details to explain about the actual binding process than i could never articulate (they literally sent me a full video explaining so many things and i responded with something to the effect of “and the way you did that binding thing - i think you said it was German??” and “wOAh tHE edgEs”, so).

so, first of all: the covers!! @byierficrecs​ was very kind to make such a lovely graphic for this fic, and he was especially kind to let chubs use it for the actual cover!! i know most people in the fandom seem to already know about Angel and the lovely work he does, but if you haven’t checked out his work, please go give it some love~ (the original thaba graphic can be found here!!)

the spine, with chubs’ lovely little maker’s mark :D

(and if i rearranged my bookshelf just so i could put it between all of my R. F. Kuang books then that is my business alone)

and tHE EDGES?? i kind of blacked out after i opened the package today so i didn’t notice until about 10 minutes afterwards that they had continued the vines from the graphic onto the edges?? chubs i know i already screamed at you in private but now i get to do it on a public platform so please know i am still freaking out about this

art!! look at the lovely art!! thanks again to @starsarefire824​ and @itssstarry​ for your lovely work!! i love getting to stare at these pieces regardless, but now i get to hold them in an actual physical form and stare at them heheheh. posts to show them support and/or links to find their work can be found here (for @starsarefire824​) and here (for @itssstarry​)!!

and finally, here’s it opened to my favorite chapter!! just if anybody wants to see the typsetting :D

thanks again to everybody who contributed to this!! like, yeah, i wrote it, but @chubsonthemoon​ bound it, and @byierficrecs​ designed the cover, and @starsarefire824​ and @itssstarry​ contributed art? idk my brain’s being broken tonight over the fact that people can live in completely different places and all contribute to this thing that now takes up physical space on my bookshelf. i can’t really use my words right now, so here’s a poorly-made meme to express my thoughts instead:

and especially thanks to you, chubs!! again, you are a wonderful friend, and i’m glad we got to meet each other 💜 bonding over Chris Fleming videos and our shared connections (i’m thinking of cats and giraffes, ofc) has led to some wonderful memories. Louie says hello, btw!! she was sniffing your handiwork very intently heheheh :] 💜💜💜

anyways, i hope you guys enjoy the pics!! please send your love to all the wonderful people who made this possible~

(also!! i would encourage you guys to read chubs’ fanbinding commissions statement, just in case you have any questions, or reach out to them if you want to scream about their amazing work or have questions~)

chubs’ post can be found here!!

[the-breadwizard]

me: i could fix him

him: the hungarian poet József Attila who died/committed suicide in 1937 and was slightly communist

[binglepringle]

Understanding non-maladaptive daydreamers is so hard like wdym you don’t pace around your kitchen for hours listening to music creating scenario after scenario wdym most people don’t wdym I’m mentally ill

[sisterdivinium]

Rating: Mature Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Category: Gen Relationship: Sister Camila & Sister Lilith (Warrior Nun) Characters: Sister Camila (Warrior Nun), Sister Lilith (Warrior Nun), Yasmine Amunet, Mother Superion (Warrior Nun), Jillian Salvius, Father Vincent (Warrior Nun) Additional Tags: Rated for some gore

"To see the friend, not the demon… Camila had both hands atop Lilith’s in trying to yank herself free, but she dared to detach one of them and raise it towards her foe, to her face, aiming to stroke her cheek." Scarce as it is, all evidence points to the same culprit... Camila is sure she is the only one who can uncover the truth.

[gimmethatagustd]

writing this pretty boy!jimin x weedgirl!reader is so fucking funny

It’s just pure crack. Which yknow is necessary as a stoner fic lmfao

[penna-nomen]

Day 5 of 12 Days of Fandom

My next recommended fic from 2023 is Romance Law, Inc (~1500 words) by @bethanydelleman

Two things I adore in fanfic are Pride & Prejudice and meta fiction. This story combines both in a hilarious law firm AU told from the POV of a new member of Human Resources. It acknowledges and plays with romance tropes in ways I absolutely cannot resist.

If these things appeal to you and you need a laugh, please read this story!

[halestrom]

Making A Choice

Making A Choice, T, 4.4k, John/Rodney/Teyla/Ronon

Being left behind meant that John could save everyone. But he was still sick and tired of being the one left behind.

[haymaker-mva]

writing/thinking about a fic and i accidentally ended up with like. three people all crushing on shinsou. i’m not really a shinsou fan, but i had trouble deciding which ship i wanted to play out in the background and now shinsou has todoroki, kaminari, and monoma all staring at him with heart eyes.

and. he. knows. it. he’s aware that they all like him. i won’t often be writing his point of view for this specific work, and when I do, he’ll be purposely cryptic. and i don’t think there’s gonna be an endgame. does he just end up dating all of them? idfk. help