#If there's anything else that needs to be tagged let me know

[yoitsjay]

batboys and brat taming reader who is their best friend(whom they treat like a sugar baby) 👀

The wording confused me a little bit but I think I got it-

I'll take care of you.

Summary: your a brat, a best friend, and a pampered little whore. What else could you want?

Warnings: alluding to smut but none written, spoiling you rotten

Bruce Wayne:

You had known ol’ Brucie a long time. You liked to think of your friendship with him as quite stereotypical. A rich kid who befriends the poor, lowlife kid of a criminal who somehow managed to go to Gotham Academy.

Ever since you were children Bruce always took care of you, he supported you in whatever career path you chose, and when things didn't work out, you could always fall back on him and he would deal with it all. He'd offer multiple times for you to come live at the manor with him but you refused every time. (the bratty part of you just wanted to rile him up and see when he'd snap)

As you two got older, your friendship never wavered, in fact it only got stronger… and that's when the benefits really attached itself to the friends label. Bruce began refusing no for an answer, especially after a really rough run in with one of your abusive exes. He dragged your ass to the manor and set you up with a room, he started paying off any debts you owed, and he got you anything and everything you could ever want.

Yet you were still a brat… he could handle it though, because in the end he knew that your loyalty was his, and he would never betray that trust. He never wanted to lose you.

Dick Grayson:

Whether you were a family friend, or some stranger he saved / met on the street, you and Dick had become really close friends in such a short amount of time. You were both bratty in a way, and each had your fair share of breakups that you could complain about to each other.

You and Dick had a routine where you'd get together after each breakup, either at his house or at yours. You would show up with ice cream, snacks and other things.

and by the end of the night he'd have his cock shoved up your cunt, or your mouth and you both let out your frustrations.

Dick also spoiled the shit out of you. He paid your bills, and was more than happy to do so, he also bought you whatever you wanted, similar to Bruce, and you didn't even have to ask for half the things that he gifted you.

You didnt concider yourself a sugar baby, not until your friends were gossiping about Dick, and told you that he either wanted you to be his girlfriend, or he wanted to keep fucking you, so he spoiled you to gain favor.

either way you shrugged. “And in the end my bills are paid, i have no debt, and i'm happy and have an awesome friend. Sugar baby, girlfriend, I'm taken care of either way.” You told them, and they just laughed and carried on.

In terms of brattiness, he's the brat, always whining, clawing at you for attention, you gotta put that boy on a leash just to get a break, though you found a way to get him to do what you want…

just a spread of the legs.

Jason Todd:

He has no time for brats, he's a busy man, and he could easily have anyone else to have fun with, but he wanted you, wanted to hang out with you. You were Jason’s friend for who knows how long, so he learned how to deal with your attitude long ago.

Food, most of the time, more often than not, something shoved in your mouth… like his fingers… or his cock.

Just something to suck on, that's all you needed to be satisfied.

Though, he always goes out of his way to make you feel good too, maybe he doesn't spoil you with material items, i feel like Jason is a bit more sentimental, so instead he takes you out to nice restaurants, amusement parks, rage rooms lazer tag- anything and anywhere as long as he gets to spend time with you.

He has no need for a girlfriend either, because he has you, his best friend that he gets to fuck- whats better than that.

Tim Drake:

You're his assistant at Wayne Enterprises, you had been working under him for the past couple of years, since you were about 16 and started your internship there. You both went to the Academy too, so it was easy for you and Tim to fall into a routine together. He'd come to your place and pick you up every morning, you'd get coffee then go to school on the weekdays, then when you worked on the weekends he would come pick you up again, and instead you'd go to work.

You were and are the best damn assistant he's ever had, you had a fiery spirit and didn't let anyone talk down to you, you made people see you as an equal, always. Even Bruce appreciated the way you stood up for yourself and those around you.

You were also attentive to all of Tim’s needs. Yeah that's what an assistant did, but you did way more. And because of the things you did, he would give you constant pay raises, or bonuses for your hard work… Then he started picking up little nick nacks that he knew you liked, he started paying attention to your coffee order, and he'd go buy you coffee.

Best part was, you didn't even notice that he was spoiling you, but your coworkers sure did, and they started the gossip train about you being Tim’s sugar baby.

When it finally reached yours and Tim’s ears, you kind of gave each other a look from across the office.

And then you fell into another rhythm… every day at 2 o’clock during his facetime meeting, you'd be under his desk…

if you could make him break, he’d give you his black card.

This was an arrangement you could get behind.

Damian Wayne:

For some reason you caught his eye. Don't worry, it baffled him too. He didn't understand why he found you so exhilarating.

He hated it.

He talked to you, but he'd degrade you,make fun of you, every chance he got, but he'd always use it as an excuse to get close to you.

When it was time for the senior dance, he found out that you had a few guys asking for you to be their date.

He didn't like that.

One day in the hallway, he walked up to you and he practically shoved you into the lockers. “your going to be my date to senior prom.” He demanded.

You stared at him, an unimpressed look across your face. He stammered. “I- i mean…will- will you go to senior prom with me?” he corrected his sentence-

corrected his sentence! what have you done to him?? This cold, bratty batboy, the richest kid in gotham- and he was groveling at your feet from just one look on your face.

You've reduced him to- to… a simp.

Blasphemy.

Tag list:

All: @francesfarhadi @only-my-unexistent-fiances

Batfam:

BW: @ilaiise

DG: @ilaiise

JT: @ilaiise

TD: @ilaiise

DW: @ilaiise

[consistantly-changing]

[Image descriptions in order: a tumblr reblog chain which says:

082: does anyone else want yaoi cocaine

catfanblog: I know that op is probably joking, however I don't understand what's funny...fetishizing mlm relationships isn't funny it is a serious problem. I think you all need to read posts before you reblog them, I'm truly hoping most people reblogging didn't see the "yaoi" part or something. Jfc I thought we were past this

neotrances: kinda homophobic to be agaisnt yaoi cocaine

catfanblog: You have blood on your hands]

[An anonymous tumblr ask which says: hey people are harassing the guy who commented on the yaoi cocaine post could u like get them to stop or something? he seems genuinely upset abt it

neotrances replies: ?? i'm not making anyone do anything and five other people responded to him / were sending him messages before i said anything in the post sorry that's happening but like. i literally did not say anything other than yaoi cocaine

catfanblog reblogs with an image of an anime boy crying in the rain.]

[A tumblr post by vergak which says: Anyways who else wants some yaoi ibuprofen?

catfanblog reblogs saying: Stop tormenting me. Please. I am asking nicely]

[A tumblr reblog chain which says

vampirate: ok so aside from this person does anyone else want yaoi cocaine

catfanblog: You aren't funny, kid.

atrisrising: but is the yaoi cocaine free?

catfanblog: Be honest. Would you be sad if I died. Would you feel guilty]

[An anonymous tumblr ask which says: very insensitive of you to say that my boyfriend is on a yaoi morphine drip at the yaoi hosptial because of a yaoi cocaine overdose :/

vergak replies with a fanart of Sonic the hedgehog unconscious in a hospital bed with Knuckles standing beside him and crying.

catfanblog reblogs saying in all capitals: enough about the yaoi drugs enough about the yaoi drugs]

[A tumblr post which says: All of you want me dead

catfanblog reblogs saying: All I do is reblog saying my opinion and everyone had to attack me. Just leave mlm alone

#vent tw]

[Tags which say #tw truama #traumacore #depressed #actually insane #pain #suffering #anger #hatred #sadness #yaoi cocaine]

[A screenshot of a post on catfanblog's blog, which shows seven images of crying anime boys.]

[A tumblr post by getouuu, showing a drawing of two anime boys making out (who might be L and Light from Death Note), with the caption "Yaoi moment." Below the image they say: catfanblog this could be us if we took some Yaoi cocaine and relaxed <3

catfanblog reblogs saying: i'm actually feeling something between us... should we explore this? let me know]

[A screenshot of DMs between vergak and catfanblog, which say:

vergak: Legitimately brilliant satire. Id love to share a yaoi blunt with you.

catfanblog: i want you]

Yaoi cocaine saga

[steddieas-shegoes]

coming in clutch

@starrystevie asked two days ago for someone to write enemies to lovers Steddie on the same hockey team and one of them gives the other his stick from the bench and so I volunteered and yesterday afternoon started writing this and it got to almost 6000 words by this morning. Oops?

This is therapy for me, as a Bruins fan, who is suffering tremendously this season. I can't believe some people live like this all the time. I am so, so sorry. I promise you fixing it with Steddie helps ease the ache a little. It's bitch4bitch, what's not to love?

rated e, minors dni | 5801 words | also on ao3 | cw: mention of injury, hate making out for the drama | tags: modern au, hockey au, enemies to lovers, feelings realization, sorta love confessions, anal fingering, anal sex, handjob, life is a series of connections

🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒

If there’s one thing Eddie Munson knows, it’s that Steve Harrington will steal the show.

With less than two minutes left in the game that will determine if they clinch the wild card spot for the playoffs, it could still go either way. They need a goal to tie it, and the point will be enough to get in, even if they lose in overtime.

The Rangers don’t even get anything if they win this one except a pat on the back, yet they’ve pulled their goalie in hopes of ruining the only chance the Bruins have of getting into the playoffs. If Eddie wasn’t seething with rage about potentially starting his offseason much sooner than expected, he’d respect the hell out of them for it.

How they got into this much of a mess is beyond him…or really it isn’t. It’s well within reach.

He knows from the beginning shit was hitting the fan and then it just…kept hitting the fan.

They started bad and they don’t play well from behind in games, so how could they catch up when their entire season went to shit so early on?

It should never come down to one win, not for them.

But he knows that some of the issues are that Steve was handed this captaincy before he was ready, and Eddie’s done nothing to truly help him. He wears an A, but it’s more for Asshole or Annoyance than Assistant. He knows it, Steve knows it, the team knows it.

It’s making everything harder.

Coach already lit him up a few times over stupid shit this season, things he can’t get away with for much longer. His time will be cut short on this team if he can’t-

The whistle blows and there’s a penalty on Hargrove. Not surprising, but it’s enough to get Eddie out of his own head and focus. There’s barely a minute left and they’re facing a long offseason if they don’t get their shit together.

He won’t see more ice time today. He’s third line right now, a demotion from his usual first line after a string of shitty, stupid penalties. Coach will send the first line back out for the last minute to increase their chances of scoring.

The puck drops and they make the fastest line change they’ve managed the entire game.

Steve’s skating to the puck, eyes on the prize. He’s good at it, despite Eddie hating that he feels constant competition with him. They don’t even play the same position. Eddie’s a defenseman for fuck sake. Steve’s a center. The only competition is what’s made up in his own head.

Steve gets there first, manages to pass it to Sinclair, who passes it to Hagan. It’s beautiful, but it’s not enough.

The puck is cleared out and they have to rush to it to start setting up again.

They don’t have time.

And then Steve tries to shoot it to center ice and his stick breaks. It’s the worst timing. Eddie feels his heart sink in his chest at the realization that this is it. They’re done.

Steve’s skating to the bench, yelling about needing a replacement when he should just get off the ice, let someone else out there. They’re gonna lose anyway.

Eddie throws Steve his own stick. It’s not the right curve, and not the right length. It’s not even the same brand.

But if there’s one thing Eddie can respect about Steve, it’s that he’s a damn good player. He makes shit happen, even when no one else can. He’s been their saving grace this season, arguably the only reason they’ve managed to even have a shot at the wild card spot.

He may hate his guts, and he may be annoyed that he got picked as captain, and he may also find him impossible to be around most of the time, but he can see that he’s one of the best players in the league.

Steve’s never skated harder than in this moment, and Eddie can’t feel his face as Steve sneaks the puck between the legs of Wheeler, winds back, and shoots.

None of their players get to it in time.

It goes in their empty net.

The bench is so loud, Eddie can’t even hear himself think.

They’ve tied it up.

The clock says 24 seconds.

It’s as good as done.

They’ll have overtime, of course, but they squeaked in the playoffs. They get at least four more games.

Steve skates to the bench and hands Eddie his stick, but doesn’t say anything.

That irks Eddie a little.

“Not even a thank you for getting the assist on that one?” Eddie asks because if he’s one thing, it’s a shithead.

“Shut up, Munson. Could’ve scored an empty net from the locker room,” Steve replies with an eyeroll, his smile dropping in annoyance.

A for annoyance, after all.

“With a broken stick?” Eddie pushes because he loves to push and because Steve always pushes back.

It’s their game.

Steve sits on the bench, catches his breath for a moment while the arena celebrates his goal.

“How about a thank you for getting us to the playoffs?” Steve says back.

It’s unlike him to be self-centered like this. It throws Eddie off.

For once, he doesn’t have a damn thing to say.

The goalie gets back in the net and the Rangers finish off the regulation game with their tails tucked between their legs.

Eddie doesn’t get sent back out, but neither does Steve.

Coach leans down to say something in Steve’s ear and he grits his teeth together, jaw clenching painfully.

When they’re about to start overtime, Coach taps his back and tells him to go.

“But it’s first line?” Eddie asks.

“I said go, Munson!” Coach says, leaving no room for argument.

So Eddie goes. He’s not gonna argue with the coach, and he’s damn sure not gonna be the reason there’s a delay in starting.

He skates to the blue line and sees the focus on Steve’s eyes.

This game can end either way to him and he won’t care, but Steve wants this win. He wants the two points, not just one. He wants to say they overcame a shitty game to pull off a win.

He would never admit it, but his effort is for Steve. His speed and hits during the first shift are to give Steve every opportunity to pull off this win.

If Steve wins, they all win.

Eddie should have had that mindset for every game. Maybe they wouldn’t have had to fight for their lives just to get a shot at the playoffs.

It’s not a great shift, but they manage to shut the Rangers down a few times.

Steve is red-faced on the bench, watching the second line move with a fire they were lacking for much of the first 60 minutes. That’s been a pattern this season, something Eddie isn’t sure they’ll get over with this group.

It ends during the third line’s shift.

The Rangers get a breakaway and score.

It’s a loss, but they’ve still won something. They aren’t leaving completely empty-handed.

The walk down the tunnel is interrupted by the broadcast person yelling for Steve to stay back to do the post-game interview and accept third star of the game. It always sucks accepting a star away from home ice, but Steve’s used to it by now.

He’s the guy who comes in clutch. He’s always a star.

Eddie’s only a little jealous over it.

The rest of the team is pretty quiet despite their playoff spot.

Coach stands in the center of the room.

“We got lucky,” he says. His tone is calm, but there’s something hidden beneath it that Eddie can sense is anger. “We won’t get lucky in the first round. Get your shit together before next week or you might as well start scheduling your tropical vacations.”

He leaves the room.

No one says anything as they get undressed. No one speaks when Steve comes in the room and wordlessly undresses. No one utters a word when he’s the first to leave, even though that’s the first time that’s happened in the history of ever.

Eddie follows him.

He should give him space. Now isn’t the time to work him up more.

Now is the time to be a good teammate, a good alternate captain. Behave and follow the rules and be a good example off the ice. Leadership saw something in him to give him the A in the first place, now’s his chance to prove he respects them for it.

“Since when do you walk out without a speech?” Eddie calls after him when they’ve exited the building. This arena is relatively normal, but there’s a lower level of parking just for VIP. He doesn’t see anyone else yet, but that’s not surprising. Their bus is parked a few rows away, doors up to start loading equipment for the haul to the airport.

“Since there isn’t a damn thing I can say to get this team motivated and I’m done trying!” Steve yells back without turning. “If you’d like to try, go right ahead.”

“Doesn’t seem like something a captain would do.”

Steve freezes, turns.

His face is bright red and Eddie knows immediately he pushed too far.

“Maybe you should be the captain if you know so much about what it takes, hm? Maybe instead of passing me your stick to score you could score one once in a fucking while. Maybe,” Steve takes a shaky breath, exhales it right into Eddie’s face. He didn’t even notice how close he was before. “You could start acting like a leader and less like a fuckin’ nuisance.”

Eddie scoffs.

“I’m sorry I helped? Was I supposed to let the opportunity to score go? Would you rather have not tied the game? Do you wish we were going home for the summer instead of just the next few days?”

Steve’s chest is brushing against Eddie’s.

Neither of them showered, so there’s a faint scent of sweat clinging to his nostrils, but Steve must’ve freshened up with deodorant and cologne before getting changed. Cedar and pine overtakes the locker room smell as Eddie’s eyes dart down to Steve’s lips.

“Did you want me to do all the work for you?” Eddie grins.

It’s painful, when their lips crash together. Eddie doesn’t care.

Steve’s mad, he’s loud, and he tastes like victory. It has nothing to do with their game.

“C’mon,” Steve says against his lips, and Eddie isn’t sure exactly what he wants. They’re kissing in public, in a place that could be filled with their teammates any second. Steve’s hands are against his chest, pulling him impossibly closer by his shirt. “More. You want more out of me, take it.”

Eddie’s not always the smartest guy in the room. He’s, like, smart, but sometimes he misses some obvious shit. Unobservant, his uncle calls him.

But he can read people pretty well if he has a second to really see them and he thinks he’s seeing something Steve didn’t mean to show. He knows what Steve’s really asking and he knows he can give that to him.

“No.”

Steve stills. He pulls away, hurt clear on his face before he manages to school his features. It’s eery how quickly he was able to do it.

“Knew you weren’t up for it, anyways,” Steve mutters, but Eddie doesn’t let him walk away.

His grip on Steve’s wrist is tight enough to cut off circulation, tight enough to bruise. Steve doesn’t react at all.

“I’m not taking anything from you. You’re gonna take what you need from me.”

Steve’s brows furrow, and Eddie allows himself a moment— just one— to think that he’s cute like this. If they weren’t teammates, and if Eddie could stand him for more than a few minutes at a time, maybe they could do something.

“What are you talking about?” Steve asks. “I don’t need anything from you.”

“No? Like how you didn’t need my stick to score earlier?”

Steve’s mouth snaps closed, but Eddie doesn’t feel as smug as he normally would. He can hear voices coming and he knows that if they leave here now without something worked out, it’ll be like none of this ever happened.

“When we get back, come to my place,” Eddie orders.

“And if I don’t?”

Eddie laughs.

Steve likes to win. He’s gonna come just to see what his prize will be.

He boards the bus and ignores his half-hard dick in his slacks.

Steve always finds a way into his brain. And now he’s found a way into his bed.

~~~~~

The bus ride is quiet, but most of the guys are busy texting significant others and coming down from the adrenaline of the game. The flight is silent, everyone taking a power nap before they have to get back home. They’ll have a day off tomorrow, but most of these guys are married and have kids, or fiancées who haven’t quite figured out that a day off is needed for recovery, not for filling the calendar with other events.

Steve is far away from Eddie, barely even visible unless Eddie leans into the aisle and squints.

He doesn’t do that more than once, doesn’t wanna draw attention to whatever it is that’s happening between them.

Eddie is the first off the plane, but he walks slow enough to his car that a few teammates catch up and tell him his quick reaction saved their asses. He laughs and thanks them, tells them they’ve got some work to do if they’re gonna win the first round, and gets in his car.

Somehow, Steve’s already at his door when he gets home.

“Eager?” Eddie asks.

“You tell me,” Steve grabs Eddie’s hand and places it over his crotch. He’s already hard.

“Did you touch yourself on the way here?” Eddie feels like he’s been struck by lightning, energy zapping through him at the speed of light. Realizing Steve’s into this is rewiring his brain.

“Obviously,” Steve rolls his eyes.

Eddie unlocks his door and pushes Steve inside. He pushes him down the hall and right onto the bed. He pushes until Steve pushes back.

“I thought I was taking from you,” Steve says as he sits up, taking his shirt off and throwing it to the ground.

“You are. But only when I’m ready to give. I need a second,” Eddie says as he strips his own shirt off. He walks to his bathroom to throw some water on his face and pretend for a second that the sweat dripping down his spine isn’t a ridiculous reaction to Steve.

“It’s been a second!” Steve calls to him.

Eddie smirks at himself in the mirror before heading back to the bed.

“Sorry to keep you waiting. I assume you’ve got something specific in mind?”

Steve eyes him up and down. “Take everything off.”

Eddie does as he says. Steve’s surprise that he didn’t argue is obvious.

“Get lube and condoms.”

Eddie reaches into his bedside drawer and gets out his unopened bottle of lube and the only three condoms he has that may or may not be expired. He doesn’t have time to fuck around much, and most of the time he does, it never gets far enough to need a condom.

His traitorous stomach swoops at the thought of Steve being inside him.

Steve looks at him like he’s starving and Eddie’s a five course meal on a table in front of him, and Eddie likes it. He likes that Steve wants to devour him.

He’s pulled into a bruising kiss, can taste blood on his tongue when he swallows spit that’s just as much Steve’s as his own. Eddie knows if they kiss like this for long enough, Steve will barely have to touch him at all to get him there.

As if reading his mind, Steve’s hand is on his dick, stroking it slow enough to drive him insane. Eddie blushes, but doesn’t let it hold him back from pushing Steve more.

“You gonna take your clothes off or are the lube and condoms just for decoration?”

Any hand is better than his own, but Steve’s hand might be the death of him. He tightens his grip around him, leaning in to bite Eddie’s collarbone.

He’s sensitive there and somehow Steve knows it, and Eddie might die tonight, but he can’t let Steve know he’s making him feel this fucking good. He wants Steve to take what he wants, but he doesn’t wanna give it easily.

“You like this with everyone or am I special?” Steve asks before he licks a stripe up Eddie’s neck.

It’s gross. It’s hot as fuck. Eddie’s lightheaded.

“Just you, sugar. Or should I call you Captain here, too?”

Steve pulls back like he’s been burned.

“I’m not your captain right now.” He’s glaring at Eddie, making him wish he could shrink into the mattress, down through the floor. “I’m Steve. Got it?”

“Got it,” Eddie’s nodding along, but he feels like he’s teetering into uncharted territory, some kind of rough terrain that most people don’t get past the fence to explore.

Steve starts taking and Eddie lets him.

First, it’s rough hands pushing him around until he’s in the position Steve wants him: face down, arms under the pillows, legs spread so Steve can see him.

Then, it’s teasing touches, laughing when Eddie gasps and moans, nipping at his skin after a soft brush of his fingers.

It’s hot and cold, it’s hard and soft, it’s push and pull.

It’s the first time Eddie feels like he understands who Steve is.

The lube is cold as Steve spreads it around his entrance, more teasing, more taking. Eddie doesn’t mind. He’s always loved the build-up as much as the finale.

Steve’s quiet, focused, as he works his fingers into him. He’s meticulous about it, looking for the best reactions.

When Eddie whines into the pillow, spreading his legs further apart to make more room for whatever Steve wants from him, he realizes that this will change everything. He should’ve realized it sooner. He may regret it tomorrow. He may not.

“You ready?” Steve asks.

Eddie feels empty. Steve’s fingers aren’t there anymore, aren’t stretching him and prodding every sensitive part of him. He whimpers pitifully at the loss.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Steve’s cock is pushing against his entrance, and Eddie thinks he was severely mistaken about Steve before.

Because why is Steve being gentle? Why is his hand rubbing Eddie’s spine as he pushes into him slowly? Why are his lips against Eddie’s shoulder, not kissing so much as resting there, his hot breath a comfort that he’s right there paying attention to everything Eddie’s doing?

Why is this the best Eddie’s ever been fucked and why does it feel less like getting fucked and more like making love with every passing moment?

Steve’s big, which Eddie knew already. There’s just a difference between seeing it and feeling it. He fills him up, makes him wonder if he’ll be sore tomorrow.

Kind of hopes he will be.

“Take it,” Eddie mumbles against the pillow.

Steve grabs his hair, strong grip, but gently pulling. “What?”

“Take me.”

Eddie’s not sure where those words come from, but he feels the way Steve responds. His cock twitches inside him, his hands grip his waist harder, and Steve moans against his shoulder.

His own cock is trapped against the sheets, but it’s fine. He’s in no rush. Steve will take what he wants and Eddie will wait. He’ll wait all night if he has to.

He feels good like this, at Steve’s mercy.

He didn’t think he’d be able to relax under him. He thought the fight he always has to assert his own dominance with Steve would carry over here, too.

But it’s easy to let Steve have this.

He knows that Steve needs this just as much as Eddie needs to be used.

“You’re quiet. Everything okay?” Steve whispers against his skin. A check-in to make sure Eddie doesn’t need to stop.

“I’m good. Feels good. Keep going.”

The softness never goes away, but Steve’s moving faster, breathing heavier, putting more weight on Eddie’s back. It’s almost too much, the pressure inside him, surrounding him. The scent of Steve, the scent of both of them mingling together and staining his bedsheets.

He’ll have to wash them tomorrow. He won’t.

“God,” Eddie says as he fists the pillow under his head. “Right there.”

Steve’s nailing his prostate, almost more than he can handle. It feels like when they reach their groove on the ice, like despite their disagreements and different styles of play, they’ve meshed together for this moment to make something happen.

“Yeah? You like letting me have you like this?” Steve asks.

It feels out of place here, but Eddie’s allowing it all. If this is what Steve needs, if this will help, then he’ll let Steve have everything.

“Mhm. C’mon, want you to come,” Eddie begs.

He doesn’t want this to be over, though. He finds it shocking how much he wants Steve to keep fucking into him for hours, finding new positions and ways to make Eddie question his existence. He wishes Steve wasn’t wearing a condom, wishes he could fill him up with his cum, plug him up so he stays filled until morning.

He doesn’t know why he’s thinking these things. He’s never wanted that with anyone, let alone Steve.

Steve’s hand covers the back of his neck, applies just enough pressure that Eddie knows it would be hard to move.

He’s coming before he even realizes the tug in his belly is there, moaning into the pillow as Steve’s hips meet his ass with every thrust. It’s too much, but Eddie’s giving himself.

That’s all this is.

It’s everything now, but tomorrow it’ll be nothing.

And the day after that, when they have team meetings to review tape for their first round matchup, it’ll be even less than nothing. It’ll be like nothing ever happened and Eddie never let Steve fuck him into his mattress. It’ll be back to tolerating each other for their job, and Eddie poking at him until Steve is riled up and the coach is yelling at both of them to get their shit together.

And then when they inevitably lose in the first round, they’ll go all summer without speaking and Eddie may get traded to a team that will put up with his antics.

Eddie sniffles.

“Eddie? Shit.” Steve pulls out, which is wrong and terrible and not at all what he wants. “What’s wrong? Did I hurt you? Was it too much?”

“No,” Eddie’s voice is shaking and he feels stupid. How did this happen? How did he get to this point? Over Steve Harrington? “Sorry, I’m okay.”

“You’re clearly not okay.” Steve turns him over so he’s on his back and that makes everything so much worse.

His release is sticky across his stomach and the head of his cock, and he’s flush from his cheeks to his toes. Tears have fallen, leaving tracks down his face.

He doesn’t paint a pretty picture.

“What’s this about?”

“I didn’t expect this,” Eddie admits.

It can’t hurt. Honesty is only a small vulnerability compared to letting a man fuck you.

“Expect what?”

“This. You to be soft and caring. You don’t even fucking like me. I thought you’d be quick, come on my back, and then find a reason to leave,” Eddie says, covering his face with his hands. It sounds even dumber out loud. Jesus.

“The thought did occur to me,” Steve says.

Eddie peeks through his fingers to see Steve smiling with an eyebrow raised.

“What the fuck is happening.”

Steve snorts. “You threw me your stick during the play so I could score the goal that sealed us a shot at the Cup. I’ve been hard for, like, six hours now, dude.”

“Don’t call me dude while you’re staring at my dick!” Eddie argues.

“You annoy the shit out of me,” Steve rolls his eyes. “More than anyone else I’ve ever played with.”

“Okay. My dick’s already soft, you don’t have to talk me down, Steve,” Eddie groans, covering his face again.

Steve pulls his hands away, laces their fingers together, squeezes. Eddie’s stomach flutters.

“But you’re good. And you know you’re good. That’s why you’re as frustrated as I am about how this season’s been. It has fuck all to do with me being captain, and everything to do with nothing going right for us.”

Steve’s right. He’s always right, even though Eddie rarely acknowledges it.

“Does this kind of talk get you off or should I do something for you?” Eddie tries to joke, to push.

But Steve doesn’t push back this time.

He cups Eddie’s jaw and leans in, kisses him soft, so gentle it feels like a whisper of something Eddie’s absolutely terrified to name.

“Let me take a little more,” Steve says against his lips.

He lifts Eddie’s legs and slides back into him, and Eddie moans at the overstimulation. He’s definitely gonna be sore when he wakes up, but he doesn’t mind so much right now.

“That’s it,” Steve groans as he moves in and out, holding Eddie’s legs apart so he can make sure he gets as deep as possible. “Let me have it.”

Eddie’s never come twice like this, without his cock even being touched properly. But here he is, barely even hard again, and cum is leaking onto his stomach as he whimpers his way through another orgasm.

“Fuck, so good.” Steve’s hips stutter as he tenses his hands around Eddie’s thighs. “That’s it, baby. Let me fill you up.”

It’s not real, but for a second Eddie can picture it. He pretends he can feel it inside him, and his cock twitches, but otherwise doesn’t act like it can do anything else tonight.

Steve lets his legs drop as he pulls out, and Eddie winces at the feeling of emptiness it brings.

Eddie closes his eyes, tries to figure out how he’s gonna ask Steve to stay.

“Is it okay if I stick around?” Steve asks before he can think of something.

“Yeah, of course. Shower’s all yours if you want it,” Eddie offers, sounding breathless still. His heart is pounding in his chest and he feels like the world around him is spinning.

“You wanna join?” Steve asks him, seriously.

“Showering together doesn’t seem like a teammate thing to do,” Eddie replies.

“Neither is watching a teammate come twice.”

“Point made.” Eddie groans as he turns on his side, reaching a hand out until he makes contact with skin. He thinks it’s Steve's thigh, but he can’t be sure with his eyes closed. “Go on without me. I can’t feel my legs or my…anything.”

Steve doesn’t get up, and he doesn’t say anything. After at least a minute of silence, Eddie blinks his eyes open to see Steve staring at him.

“Are you gonna be fucking creepy all night? I rescind my permission to stay if you are.”

Steve shakes his head. “No, it’s just. I’ve seen you mostly naked so many times, but I never noticed this scar.”

Steve gently brushes a finger across the scar on Eddie’s abdomen. It’s barely an inch in length, and you can’t even see it unless the light hits it just right.

Eddie looks down at it, at the way Steve’s fingertips graze the outer edges. He doesn’t think about it much anymore, but he remembers when it happened.

“Junior hockey. Kid’s skate got me just as I was falling. My chestie rose up too high and didn’t protect the spot,” Eddie shrugs. It could’ve been a lot worse. He was back on the ice within three days. “Accidents happen.”

Eddie watches Steve’s face morph from curious to confused and then shocked.

“That was you?” Steve asks.

“What do you mean?” Eddie leans up on an elbow, looks back at Steve as if he’s lost his mind.

“I…holy shit. They never told me the player’s name. Just said he was getting stitches in the locker room and would be fine,” Steve is rambling, gesturing wildly and shaking his head. “They wouldn’t let me check on you. I tried as soon as the game was over.”

“I’m still confused.”

“It was my skate. I tripped over a player’s stick as you were falling. I didn’t even realize it actually hit you until I saw the blood on the ice.” Steve scoots down so he’s eye level with the scar and then he does something that changes Eddie’s DNA.

He presses his mouth to the scar, his lips parting just enough for his hot breath to cause goosebumps to break out across Eddie’s skin.

“Why did you give me your stick?” Steve whispers.

Eddie swallows. He feels heavy, weighed down by whatever this is.

“You had a chance. You just needed a stick,” he whispers back.

“Eddie. You would rather lose than help me any other time.” Steve tilts his head to look up at Eddie. “Why did you pass me your stick?”

“I-” Eddie breathes in. “I wanted to do something right. I wanted you to look at me and not see someone failing for once. I wanted to be good enough to wear the A.”

Steve’s forehead drops to his hip, and it takes a moment for Eddie to realize he’s laughing.

“What’s funny about that?” Eddie’s ready to pull away, kind of wants to make Steve leave now that he’s feeling like he’s being made fun of.

“I just cannot believe that you would think you aren’t good enough.” Steve looks back up at him, grinning, eyes shining with amusement. “Who do you think chose you for the A?”

Eddie thinks about it. He always assumed that the coaches just picked the guy with the most NHL experience out of the few options they had. He never thought he’d be A or C material professionally, so he accepted the offer, grateful to be given the chance.

He felt like an idiot for wasting the opportunity this season.

He didn’t produce the way he knows he can, and he let his stupid jealousy of Steve get in the way of everything. It’s not like he wanted the responsibility of being captain. He knows now he probably isn’t cut out for any type of leadership role with the team.

“I thought the coaches?” Eddie frames it as a question because now he isn’t sure.

“They wanted to name Hagan. I suggested you instead.”

Eddie’s breath catches. “You suggested me? Why? You fucking hate me.”

“I don’t hate you,” Steve raises a brow and gestures at their current state. “I don’t sleep with people I hate.”

“I thought it was spur of the moment! Like you were so mad at me that the only thing you could do to get it out of your system was fuck me!”

Eddie’s head is spinning.

“I mean, it was spur of the moment. I never had any intentions of acting on anything I felt for you.”

Eddie’s head is going to explode.

“Harrington. You’re really making my head hurt. Like, I have never felt this confused after getting fucked.”

Steve laughs, which doesn’t help anything. It almost makes it worse.

He crawls back up so he’s only inches from kissing Eddie.

“I chose you. They said I had to pick someone who would compliment me on and off the ice and you were the first and only choice I could make. You’re an incredible player and the only defenseman I trust on this fucking roster,” Steve leans his head forward, resting his forehead against Eddie’s. “If I’m annoyed with you, it’s because I’m annoyed at myself. I’m making your job harder by losing the room. I don’t even know how it happened.”

“You haven’t lost the room,” Eddie interrupts, placing his hand on Steve’s hip. “They love you. You’re the hero.”

“I don’t wanna be the only guy who comes through, though. I want everyone to succeed.”

“They will. It’s just not our year. It happens. We started off bad and we never got back on track.”

Steve huffs out a breath. “It’s my job to make it work.”

“It’s everyone’s job to make it work. You can’t do it by yourself. They don’t hand Stanley Cups to a player, they hand them to a team.”

Steve smirks. “They do hand them to a player first, though.”

Eddie smacks him. “Don’t argue with me. I’ve had my brains fucked out of my head.”

They stare at each other, both of them smiling fondly.

It’s such a stark difference to everything they’ve been this whole season. Eddie doesn’t know how to handle the electricity between them. He thought it would fade once they were done, once Steve cleaned up and they got dressed. In the morning, he’d leave, and they’d go back to being a mediocre team and he’d probably end up traded or losing the A.

But now, he’s looking at Steve with something he’s pretty sure is affection, maybe even love. It’s ridiculous, which is why he isn’t gonna say anything.

“So, are we good?” Steve asks.

It’s such a jock thing to say. It throws Eddie off yet again.

“Um. Yeah.” He pulls away slightly, considers turning around and getting under the blankets. “We’re good. Hit the showers or whatever.”

“Can I kiss you again?”

Eddie has got to figure out how to get a read on this guy. Seriously, the whiplash he’s getting from Steve’s words and actions might break his neck.

“You want to?”

“I don’t kiss people I don’t want to kiss.”

“Alright, then.”

It’s so soft, it practically melts what little brain Eddie has left. He’s not sure he’s ever been kissed like this, like he’s precious and like this moment needs to be cherished.

“Are you still gonna be a bitch?” Eddie ruins it.

Or, he thinks he does. But Steve is just smiling at him, amused, like he wants nothing more than Eddie’s attitude.

“Depends on if you’re gonna keep giving me problems.”

“Oh, so this is like a thing for you.”

“What?”

“You like disciplining me. Oh, this will be so fun.”

Steve shakes his head and falls against the pillows. Eddie turns his own head to smile at him.

“You didn’t answer me,” he says after a minute of just watching Steve exist in his bed.

“You answered yourself.”

“You’re irritating.”

“So are you.”

“It’s not a competition.”

“Everything is a competition,” Steve turns his head to look at Eddie, smirking. “And I’m winning.”

“We’ll see about that.”

[sugucvnt]

PERFECT ROLE | 2.7k

alcoholic! toji fushiguro x fem!reader

description: you’ve always been his perfect housewife. you’ve been there to keep the bed warm, keep the food hot, and there to cry when he’s been out all night drinking.

tags/warning: angst, crying, kitchen sex, clothed sex, mentions of drinking, implied alcoholic, toji's not a great husband but he is trying, REPOST (from my other account lolol), emotional sex

all of your days seem to start the same.

laundry, feeding your child, cleaning her room, etc. when you signed up for motherhood, you weren’t expecting the redundancy that tags along with it. still, even your bad days feel good and you couldn’t imagine trading motherhood for anything else. you smile a little as you tuck your last child into bed, pressing a chaste kiss to her forehead before leaving quietly.

you have no regrets because you love your little girl. and sometimes, you love your husband too. the sound of jingling keys seems to snap you out of your thoughts and you huff out a breath, making your way downstairs. the stairs croak a bit, so you’re aware he knows you’re coming.

it isn’t written on your face, but you are rather upset. you’ve known your husband since he was a teenager- which means you’re aware of things he may not even be aware of. like the fact that he honestly prefers eating with other people. you’ve noticed the man goes a little crazy when you refuse to eat at the table with him. not just that, though, but you know the way his mind works.

toji doesn’t know what a promise is. or he’s got no idea what it means to make one.

he’ll make tons of empty promises that he never intended to keep in the first place, and then he’ll get pissy at you for being upset with him. it’s unfortunate, but you’ve always learned to just accept it and work around that flaw. until now, you’ve never allowed his blatant disregard for your feelings to send you into such despair. your emotions are a tool you’ve worked diligently to keep in place. it’s like a stone wall: they aren’t so easily broken or disturbed. not by just anyone, at least.  the only person who could disturb the artificial peace you’ve created to keep yourself sane is toji.

you’re barely near the man, still leisurely walking down your loud, wooden steps- but you can smell him.

cheap liquor. it’s all you’ve been able to smell this week.

“‘m back,” he calls, the shrinking scar on his lip pulling into a sickening grin. it seems so long ago but there was a time when you enjoyed his smile. there was a time when it brightened your day just to see the stupid little smirk he’d have on his face when you did something for him, or even when you’d wore a pretty outfit he liked.

“it’s late, toji,” you start, finally making your way down the steps and right past your husband. he barely feels like that to you anymore. “haven’t even had work this week but you’re out all night. it’s funny.”

you shoot him a quick glare before brightening up the kitchen a bit when you turn the stove light on.

“don’t be like that, i let you go out when you wanna.” he sits in one of the chairs in the dining area, a sly grin still glued to his stupid face. your eyebrows furrow and your head turns to look at him, your hand anxiously playing with the loose strings of your nightgown.

“let me? toji, you can’t let me do anything. i haven’t even been out to do anything but run errands.” another sigh escaped your lip and you feel like you might vomit. you’ve been up since 6, running errands, doing laundry, and making breakfast. not to mention, crying yourself nearly to death worrying about your husband. is he alright? why’s he been out so much recently? does he need to talk?

you’re worried out of your mind. it’s like your head’s been spinning and your thoughts aren’t even your own. so anxious, you’re nearly on the verge of vomiting daily. toji hardly even notices you said anything before he’s back to picking at the food on his plate.

“you promised you wouldn’t keep drinking.” he’s draining your energy day by day and you’re unsure if you can even keep up. your voice is merely a croak, fingers still widely tangling and untangling in the loose threads of your satin gown. you wanna say good night and kiss him on the cheek? even tell him that you aren’t mad, just worried is all.

you don’t.

you’re about to move past him. you’re tired and irritated- you need some sleep and a long bath and much to your dismay, he carefully grabs your arm. you’ve been with the kids all day. the kids you’d agreed to procreate when he promised a foolish illusion of a perfect family. you won’t regret your children- don’t think you could ever live with yourself if you did, honestly.

but you’re starting to think you chose the wrong person to start a family with.

he doesn’t speak. his presence is so subtle, it’s like he’s holding his breath. you feel a chill run through your back when he pulls you into his lap, attempting to have you straddle him. your energy, the rest of it, has been used up for the night. you don’t have the proper motivation to even fight with him. on a normal night, maybe you’d push him away a little hard and then come back to apologize. maybe on a normal night, you’d just bury your face in his welcoming neck without fighting him. maybe even ask if he’s okay. you wanna know. you gotta.

however, tonight isn’t a normal night. you haven’t had one in a while.

you have enough energy to turn your head to the side. you can barely stomach looking at his flushed face and wild hair. he’s as red as a tomato, with individual strands of hair sticking to his sweaty forehead. you’ve been missing him so much that the images of how happy he used to look simply from being around you and your children flash through your mind, almost as if your own head’s mocking you. like your mind’s telling you how pathetic it is that you’re losing the family you built. going from a loving housewife to your husband’s burden.

does he hate you? is that why he’s been acting so recklessly? you’re no stranger to fantasizing about your life before a family. you often thought about a different career choice or how much free time you’d have if something, anything, had changed. that didn’t mean you didn’t want toji anymore, though. the thought of him hating you or feeling any type of disgust with you caused your stomach to churn painfully, embarrassingly enough. he was still your lover. always had been.

“you know how much i love you, yeah?” he whispers, the scent of liquor heavy on his thick tongue. his words cause you to flush with a bittersweet sensation. loves you? he’s constantly gone and making you worried. you can’t remember the last time he asked about your day or helped out at home.

you pout childishly, stifling an unwanted laugh. nothing about this is amusing to you, but you genuinely can’t help the laugh beginning to escape your lips. “yeah? then i don’t see why you make me worry so much.” you finally bring yourself to face him, tears awkwardly welling in your eyes. blinking them away, you subconsciously pressed your head against his. you can hear his breath hitch in his throat before his hands gently grip your clothed waist. you’ve been doing well at keeping your frustration with your situation at bay, but something about sitting in your husband’s lap just broke you. when was the last time you were able to feel his warmth? it felt nice. you were starting to remember just how much you missed feeling his body against yours again.

god, you were beginning to feel so needy.

“hey,” you hear him start before he quickly stops talking. you assume he’s attempting to rack his tipsy brain for the right words, but it must be difficult in his haze. still, he’s seeming to sober up in your presence. “don’t cry, please. not over me.”

tears still drip from your eyes, your body ignoring his words. how can you stop now? you’ve been crying all day. all week. he’ll never understand what he’s doing to your mind until it’s too late for the both of you. you’re constantly on edge, feeling like you’ll break. he’ll tell you something sweet, claiming he’ll stop or that he’s sorry- but won’t do anything to make you believe it. you’ve stopped trusting him and you hate that so much. hate how much you’re regretting a relationship with him and how far you’ve both taken it.

neither of you is ready to be together.

even then, you can’t leave. you have a child together. and secretly, even if you won’t admit it, you still love him. even if you’re angry and frustrated, and depressed- you’ll always love him. you’ll always be here, keeping the bed warm and keeping food on the table for when he gets home.

that’s one promise you can’t break.

“please, you’re hurting me a lot.” you’re trying to be honest. until now, you’ve held the way you’ve felt for as long as possible, only confronting him when the situation escalates. you’ve been a good woman. a good wife, for him. “i can’t- not by myself. please, toji. please.” you plead with him, bringing the back of your hand up to quickly wipe away your unwelcome tears.

even in the dim light, you can tell how much his face drops seeing you cry. you’re aware of how his mouth opens, but then quickly shuts. his eyes find yours and his hands squeeze your waist a little. nothing is stopping you from releasing a low groan, so you do. poking your lip out while you watched, or rather felt, for his every move.

he presses a chaste kiss to your neck and suddenly, you can’t remember what you were so upset about. the feeling of his scarred lip bewitches you and forces more groans from your lips. your body seems to move on its own, hips gyrating over his clothed bulge in a steady movement. your lips move to his neck now, your brain filling with fuzz while his hands travel over your needy body. goosebumps begin to form along your skin when he touches you, but he barely notices. it’s been too long since you’ve been touched like this.

“there she is,” toji pushes his strands of hair out of his face before gently grabbing your chin. his eyes are intimidating as ever, but you feel a sudden warmth when he looks at you now. the same gentle fire in his stomach you used to feel. it’s dangerous. it’s dangerous because it feels like hypnotism. every worry or stressor in your life seems to become so blurry they’ve disappeared. your feelings are surprisingly at ease, and shoulders that were once tense now drop lazily. “my pretty lil’ housewife. knew you couldn’t stay mad at me…”

his words should snap you out of your daze. they should upset you because now it’s clear he’s either attempting to make a shitty apology or distract you. despite your awareness, you’re unable to bring yourself to stop.

“yeah…” you breathe out hoarsely, attempting to roll your hips against his hardening bulge once again before he stops you, tightly gripping your waist. your head shoots up to stare at him, silently questioning him. his hands quickly leave your waist before silently fumbling with his belt and zipper. you suck your lip into your mouth and nervously pull your nightgown up to your tummy. the world around the both of you seems to fade away, the only thing on your mind now being your husband. toji, toji, toji.

you breathe out a cool breath, shaky fingers snaking down to pull your sticky panties to the side. your husband’s mouth pulls into a grin when he notices his effect on you, blowing some air from his mouth. you watch intently as his thick fingers wrap around the base of his cock. he glances up at you for a split second before he’s rubbing the top of his cock against your wet clit. you shiver, your chest rising and falling dramatically from such a simple touch. you can feel nerves surge throughout your stomach from both pleasure and anxiety, but you ignore it.

it’s painfully quiet, the only sounds being your soft groans and toji’s grunts. he slicks his cock with a mixture of saliva and your arousal before lining it with your entrance. once he pushes in, you can no longer contain yourself. your eyes water again from the stretch, but you’re still moaning. couldn’t stop if you wanted to. your mouth hangs open, tongue lolling to the side while bottoms out in your tight heat.

“been so long baby,” he whimpers, fucking whimpers, in your ear, the familiar feel of his hands now back on your waist. “missed feeling you like this so bad.” you can feel his hips thrust upward, fucking into you in swift movements while you just take it. you feel his cock drag against your sopping walls, the sound of your slick gushing not going unnoticed by either of you. it’s almost awkward the way you just sit there and take what he’s giving you.

his pace slows down now and then, the gentle drag of his throbbing cock sending waves of pleasure through your body. you huff out gentle breaths into his neck while toji has his way with your body for the first time in a while. neither of you feels talkative tonight given the tension, but you wanna cry out to him. your body’s been on fire these nights without feeling his cock filling you up so, so so perfectly.

with a free hand, he makes a gap between the both of you and presses his finger to your aching clit, causing you to cry out loudly. you throw your head back, finally gaining a bit of control. you leisurely rotate your hips, holding onto toji’s broad shoulders as a way to keep your balance. toji never stops moving. he never stops fucking himself inside of you, one hand gripping your ass while the other gently presses down on your clit.

you know he isn’t good at apologies. is this his way of apologizing? you can’t help but wonder.

he could feel your walls gripping him like you were too afraid to let go- and it was driving him insane. you could tell as much, groaning from the way he throbbed inside of you. “gripping me like-” he stops and grunts, pace quickening once again. you can hear the sound of his cock pounding you, along with the sound of your slick continuing to escape your pussy. it’s almost too much, really. “like you want another baby. do you? you wan’ another, hm?”

goodness, no. you don’t need another child in this situation. you wouldn’t be ready and you know he wouldn’t be either. despite that fact, the fantasy of him pumping more children into you was starting to force a reaction from you. your toes clenched tightly while you rode his cock, pulling yourself off a bit before sliding down quickly. the nerves in your stomach were out of control and you broke out in chills. you were almost there. you buried your face in his shoulder while you moaned, riding out your quiet orgasm. his fingers sped on your aching clit, encouraging you to use him for your own pleasure. he was so lovely in bed.

toji whispered how much of a good girl you were for him before he found himself painting your walls in thick ropes of hot cum. he thrusts into you a few more times before halting, hands weakly wrapping around your hips in an attempt to pull you even closer.

he didn’t have to say anything for you to know he was sorry.

“‘m sorry i haven’t changed.” his voice was croaky, you’d noticed.

“‘ts okay. won’t leave you. can’t.” your lips were pursed while you lay your head on his shoulder, thinking about your words. there was nothing sadder to you than your own desperation. no matter how this played out, you couldn’t see yourself leaving him. no matter how much you were regretting your marriage, you’d never leave.

you were realizing that maybe you weren’t good for each other after all. the toxicity of your relationship was nothing to laugh at.

but even then, you’d continue playing the role of his perfect housewife.

[tartagliove]

EASY ON THE EYES, EASIER TO HATE. tartaglia x reader ✧ 2.7k words

when the fae raid your village to take humans into their realm, you think you’ll be safe in the woods. but you run into a fae who introduces himself as tartaglia and realize it might have been safer for you to stay at home.

tags and warnings ✧  fae!tartaglia, gender neutral reader (no pronouns used), reader sews and tailors clothes for a living, the fae are pretty brutal, mentions of violence, (ajax licks) blood and tears, chasing (predator prey dynamic), manhandling, all enemies and no lovers (only tension oops). note ✧ this is a darker fic compared to most of my writing; please let me know if I need to tag anything else! title inspired by the song "psycho" by taylor acorn. a gift for @cruel-hiraeth for teahouse's secret santa! happy new year, kae! i hope this fic helps you start off the year right by loving hating tartaglia >u< this was lots of fun to write hehe and got a little long because the au ran away from me... i hope you enjoy! love you lots <3

The snow falls thick and fast, yet the village continues to burn. Screams and shouts of villagers, mixed with the clashing of metal, rise above the roar of devouring flames of blue.

The fae are here.

They pull people out of their beds, pushing them into the streets. Turn their faces toward the light of a burning house—looking for the beautiful humans, still young and nimble. Or searching for evidence of skill in the arts; a pretty face matters little if one can produce beautiful things in ways that the fae cannot. Those who fail to meet the fae’s standards are left alone, shivering and watching in the cold. 

The humans the fae deem acceptable meet a much worse fate. They are picked up and thrown in the back of carts, drawn by horses with ears too long and manes too wild, their coats unusually glossy and vibrant. The chosen who try to escape are bound with rope that cruelly digs into skin. Those who try to fight are taken down brutally, then laughed at as they writhe on the ground—though the fae make sure no permanent damage is done, for that would defeat the purpose of the raid.

A fae bearing a torch of blue flames brings it up to the walls of each house of those who have been chosen. The blue catches on the wood unnaturally quickly, spreading with a voracious hunger despite the wind and snow. Within the hour, nothing will remain besides a pile of ash. 

But by then, the fae and the chosen villagers will be long gone.

You are lucky that sleep is so elusive tonight.

Earlier, after tossing and turning in bed for ages, you give up on trying to fall asleep. It is hard to leave your dog who has curled up beside you in a ball of white fluff, but you press a kiss between her ears before changing into some warmer layers. You sweep a thick winter cloak over your shoulders. It is the most luxurious piece of clothing you own; a beautiful dark green cloth lined with fur, decorated by unfinished hand-embroidered leaves and flowers and bunnies—a project you’ve been chipping away at this winter. Putting on boots that have long since been molded to the shape of your feet, you leave your house to catch some fresh air and possibly tire yourself out along the way.

The blanket of pure white is beautiful. The full moon makes everything glitter as snow stretches from the outskirts of the village into the forests beyond. Snowflakes continue to fall, decorating your hair and eyelashes with diamonds, while the shoulders of your cloak become dusted in sugar. 

It is so quiet out here. The whistling of the wind and the thoughts in your head are the only sounds you hear. You are used to this, though. Every day you sew and tailor clothes in the back of the village’s clothing store, often alone for hours on end with nothing but your thoughts for company.

A strong gust of wind rocks you on your feet. Clutching your cloak tighter and tossing the fur-lined hood up over your head, you turn your back on the forest to face the trail of footsteps you’ve made through the snow. You should head home.

Still, you take your time approaching the village. The snow dances around you and you can’t help but indulge in a spin, cloak sweeping out around you in a swirl of deep green. Your huff of laughter is stolen by the wind, but the delight within you remains.

Then the first scream rips through the night.

You freeze. Scanning the houses on the outskirts of the village reveals no dangers.

Another cry follows the first and you know something must be terribly wrong. 

You start running toward the village, kicking up snow as your mind races. Perhaps someone is getting robbed—but no one in town would dare. Or based on the growing amount of cries and shouts, maybe something happened that has injured a lot of people. A fire?

As you make it to the buildings, you see that you are right. Fire engulfs one of the homes on the far side of town, the flames reaching for the sky. A shudder runs through you at the sight, for the flames are unnaturally blue, and though this is the first time you’ve seen such a thing, you have heard of the stories and warnings about the cyan fire and those that accompany it.

You will not let the fae take you.

Whirling around, you sprint for the woods. The screams of the other villagers ring in your ears, but you know it is impossible for you to take on a single fae, let alone an army of them. They are here to steal humans away. For what, you’re not sure, but it can’t be for anything good. Though you doubt they would choose to take you, the best way to make sure you can see the sunrise tomorrow is to hide in the woods and avoid them all.

Reaching the treeline seems to take ages. You keep looking over your shoulder as you run, half expecting to have been spotted, but you only see more and more flames of blue burning houses to the ground.

Your heart skips a beat at the thought of your home being set ablaze—your dog!—but then you remember the fae only burn the houses of the humans they take and relief washes over you.

With your thoughts consumed by the safety of your dog, you don’t notice that you have slowed, trying to catch your breath in the midst of the trees. Nor do you notice that you aren’t alone anymore, until the newcomer starts speaking.

“My, my. Where are you off to in such a hurry?”

Dread sinks like a stone in your stomach. You spin, eyes wide as they land on the source of those playful and teasing words, leaning against a nearby tree with his arms crossed.

You know he is fae right away by his unnatural beauty. His hair glimmers a coppery orange under the light of the full moon, all windswept and dusted in snow. His eyes seem to glow as they scan you from head to toe, a blue just a shade darker than that of the flames destroying the village. Ears taper into a fine point and from his left one dangles a deep red crystal that only makes you think of blood. He smiles, then, as you observe him. His canines are sharp and long, like that of a fox, and you are frozen with wide, shining eyes of a bunny.

He hums and tilts his head. It is then that you remember he asked a question, and your throat works to find your voice to answer him. “I was out for a stroll,” you manage to say, words somehow steady despite your fluttering pulse.

It’s a half-truth, but half-truths are half-lies, and there’s the slightest hint of bitterness in the back of Ajax’s throat that always accompanies humans’ lies. “Oh, really? And was that before or after we made our presence known?”

“Before, actually,” you tell him honestly. “I couldn’t sleep so I decided to take a walk. The snow is beautiful and the moon is bright—it’s pretty, is it not?” If you talk enough, maybe he’ll lose interest so you can make a run for it. You don’t know much about fae, but with the way he’s dressed in nicer clothing than what most men in your village wear, surely he won’t care for running through the snowy forest.

He smiles. “It is pretty.” His eyes refuse to leave your frame, and a shiver runs through you. You don’t think he’s talking solely about the snow. 

Pushing off the tree, he takes a few steps forward, nearly silent despite the boots he wears. He stops when you stiffen, clutching your cloak tighter in your hands. “Where are my manners? Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Tartaglia,” he says, picking one of his many names to give you. “And you are?”

You press your lips together and force a smile. Even you know not to give the fae your name, no matter how much of a gentleman he is pretending to be. Your stomach rolls, unease making your heart rate pick up again. “I’m-” You see the way he perks up in interest, expecting a name. “I’m leaving,” you spit out, turn on your heels, and run.

Ajax watches you leave, the green of your cloak billowing out behind you like a rabbit’s tail inviting him to chase. He laughs, throwing his head back as the sound erupts from his throat. “Oh, you shouldn’t have done that,” he says, his breath beading in the winter air.

He had not intended to take you back to the fae realm, but then you had to go and run. And he wouldn’t dare to let all your hard work go to waste—so he’ll participate in the delightful hunt you’ve set up for him.

The ground is uneven beneath your feet. It is hard to tell where the tree roots are under the thick layer of snow and each breath of air feels like tiny needles stabbing your lungs. But you push on, feet pounding as quickly as you can force yourself to go.

You want to be as far away from that fae as you can get. He had not looked like he was going to chase you when you last saw him, laughing as you ran away, but there was a look in his eyes that pushed you to keep running.

When you toss a quick glance over your shoulder, your breath hitches and terror rushes through you.

He’s there. In the distance, but you can see him, weaving through the trees at an inhuman pace, his long legs carrying him far. He is gaining on you and you fear what he will do when he catches you.

You push yourself to run even harder, but your legs burn and your throat feels tight. In your haste, you fail to see the lower hanging branches of a nearby tree. A cry tears from your lips as a thin branch slices through the skin of your cheek, but you barely feel the pain with your face nearly frozen from the cold.

“Ouch,” the fae calls after you. His voice is loud and clear, and you know he’s only getting closer. “Don’t hurt yourself too much trying to escape, okay?”

Through your huffs for air, you manage to shout back at him. “Piss off! Leave me alone!”

Ajax grins, closing the distance. “I don’t think I will,” he says.

He lunges forward and grabs a fistful of your cloak. You stumble from the pull, tripping over your feet. He uses the momentum to spin you around, pushing you backward until you hit a tree, forcing the air from your lungs. His body presses against yours right after, caging you in with one leg wedged between your own.

“Let go of me!” you shout, slamming your fists into his chest. You try shoving all of your weight into him but he simply presses back harder until his chest is flush against yours. 

He laughs—laughs!—as you struggle against him, kicking and yelling and throwing your weight from side to side. He does not budge at all under the onslaught. You do everything you can, but only wear yourself out, leaning back against the tree to catch your breath.

“Are you done?” he asks, amusement coloring his tone. “If not, I can do this all night.”

His reaction makes your blood boil, most of your fear buried beneath anger. You glare down past his arm that still grips your cloak and catch sight of a sliver of pale skin peeking through the folds of his clothes. Moving your gaze back up to his face, you spit out, “I hope you die.”

And then you dig your nails into the exposed skin of his stomach, sink your teeth into the arm holding onto your cloak, and shove with all your might.

Ajax stumbles backward. 

You rip yourself out of his hold, twist your body to the side, taking one step forward, free-

Arms wrap around your waist and throw you back toward the tree. Your feet catch on his boot, making you lose your balance, perfect for Ajax to maneuver your body as he wills. This time, he pins your hands above your head, one large hand grasping your wrists, while his other arm presses as an immovable bar across your collarbones. One leg forces its way between your own, and you realize you are at this fae’s mercy, pinned like a prized butterfly in a collection; all pretty and helpless, on display for him to study.

You look down. You don’t want to see the anger on his face before he retaliates for your actions.

The arm across your chest shifts and you flinch as gloved fingers grab your chin, firm but not painful as he tilts your head, forcing you to look at him. You’re taken aback by the grin on his face, canines bared and bloodthirsty, but his eyes are amused.

“Try that again, I dare you.” His voice is rough and yet it doesn’t sound like a threat.

Your eyes grow wide. This kind of a creature is not one you will be able to escape, at least not now—unarmed except for your teeth and nails.

Ajax lets go of your chin, pulling back slightly. He’s delighted by the fire within you. When he first saw you, running toward the woods, he simply thought you a pretty coward. But oh you dared to fight back, using what little defenses humans naturally have, and you even broke skin. Though his fae blood allows him to rapidly heal, the sensation of your nails digging into his abdomen is not one he’ll forget anytime soon.

As he looks away from your face to take you all in, now that you’re not struggling to escape, his gaze catches on your cloak. His eyes light up, tracing over the exquisitely stitched leaves and plants of various green threads, mixed occasionally with lively bunnies of soft browns. There’s a rabbit still unfinished, just a cute head and perked ears, awaiting its body to bring it to life. 

“Did you make this?” Ajax asks, thumb brushing over the embroidery.

“No,” you gasp, heart sinking.

He tastes the lie and grins. “That’s not true now, is it?”

It’s over. Now that he knows you are skilled at sewing, he has all the reasons he needs to bring you into his realm. Despair is a heavy weight, mixed with frustration and anger. Tears well in your eyes and slide down the curves of your face. A few droplets spread into the cut on your left cheek, mixing with the beading blood that stains your skin.

Ajax is enchanted. Has he ever seen a human so beautiful?

He can’t stop himself from leaning in even closer until his nose nearly presses against your ear. There’s a moment where you hear him inhale. Then his tongue swipes up your cheek, lapping up tears and blood. His groan of delight is overlapped by your whimper, the cut on your cheek stinging as fear flows through your veins.

His fingers grip your chin again and he turns your head to the other side. Warmth travels up your cheek as he licks your tears, before pulling away with a satisfied smirk on his lips.

As you gasp for breath, he takes in the sight of more tears streaming down your face, shed in mourning for the loss of your life in the human world. Shudders run through you until your tears slow, giving time for your heart to harden. Slowly, you open your eyes to meet his gaze, yours now blazing with fury and hatred.

Ajax grins, taking in the vision before him. “You’re perfect.”

note ✧ ajax makes you point out your home and he gets to dig through your stuff as you collect a few things to take with you. don't worry, doggo gets to come with and is treated very well (fae like animals more than humans, usually).

this is not quite the type of thing i usually write, but i hope it was still an enjoyable read! i'd love to hear what you think c:

[kaliforniahigh]

So, I found some stuff I posted a while ago, but deleted by accident (who remembers when I deleted literally a month of posts by accident? LOL). This is one of them.

So, this is a repost from July 18th, 2024 :)

Imagine you getting home from work, it's nighttime already because you had to work overtime to fix something someone else screwed up.

You're so tired you literally don't even remember the drive home. You leave your shoes by the door and hang your coat. As you go up the stairs, you can hear Noah in the bedroom, complaining that someone shot his character. You guess he's probably gaming with the guys.

You slowly open the door a little more as to not startle him. He turns his head to look at you, and you walk over to him and squeeze his shoulder, leaning down for him to cradle one side of your head and give you a soft kiss on your lips.

He watches you from the corner of his eyes, as you go to the closet and pick up one of his sweatshirts and sweatpants that you have to draw the strings really tight for it not to fall.

It is not uncommon for you to wear his clothes, but he can tell you had a long day, and being engulfed in his smell always makes you feel better. He has butterflies in his stomach when he thinks about that.

You leave the room to take a warm and rather long shower, letting the water cascade down your back and wash away the stress of the day.

Noah would give anything to be in there with you, he would wash your hair, give your shoulders a good massage, but he knows you need a moment alone to decompress and gather your thoughts from the day.

When you come back, all fresh and warm and smelling of his body wash, he can't hold himself back from making grabby hands at you, scooting his chair away from the desk, and you accept his invitation immediately.

You straddle his hips, leaning your head on his chest, resting your hands on his sides, and he feels you letting out a big breath of relief when you feel his hands going up and down your back, travelling up to scratch your scalp. He hugs you and gives you a thight squeeze, and it is as if you never felt such relief in your life.

After a few minutes, his hands go back to his controller, but he leans his head down from time to time to give you a kiss to the crown of your head. Or to smooth his thumb over your cheekbone in-between rounds on his game.

Ultimately, you feel your eyes getting tired, your body relaxing more and more into his.

"Sleep baby, I'll be here to hold you", he whispers to you, and you let your eyes shut, finally feeling at peace for the first time today.

Tag list: @concreteangel92 @foliosgirl @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @stardustsirenmelody @miwomens @concretejunglefm @fadingangelwisp @prettygirlrock126 @dontwantthemoney @tosoundlessdarkistare @babygirlchuuya @follow-me-down-to-wonderland @lacy1986 @romanreigns-supreme @xmads-omensx @missduffsblog @rumoured-whispers @thisbicc @badomensgoodomens @floatingkiwi @collective-heartbreak @dontwantthemoney @dream-machine-love @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @amelia-acero @kenjipepsi1 @montgomery-929496 @daddy-dierkes-girlie @stardustsirenmelody @cheyyyyr @triedbimsoblu333 @xxkatsatwatwafflexx @noyaisasimp @youlookforultraviolet @w0manof-flesh44 @chaoticwineaunt @geminigirlfromfinland @zozaline @deardelirium @ferduttini @turn-your-life-into-folklore @butterflyeffect07 @dominuslunae @shelbyrlxoxo @super-btstrash-posts @shayzillaaaa @kaylacosmic @wordskeeper @enemiestolovershoe @chicken-tender-slut

[velvetvexations]

I’m. So baffled by that one dude saying that trans men being able to pretend to be women is a privilege, because in his tags he says that it’s a thing specific to transmascs. Does he mean pretending to be cis as a means of safety is a transmasc specific thing?? Because uh, I’m… pretty sure that’s something that can be done regardless of a trans person’s gender? There are transfems and nonbinary people who can also pretend to be cis [whatever their agab was], too?

Its also not a privilege. Having to hide what you are out of fear isn’t a fucking privilege lmao

strangely people understand that when it's about trans women

just saw a post on my dash saying "'infighting' is a dogwhistle which frames transfems as aggressors". i really hope the tide is turning like you said, bc this shit is getting exhausting and im still seeing it from random people i follow who otherwise gave no indication that they drank the koolaid.

they make me out to be the aggressor all the time!

Nazi imagery anon here

These are the pics I was referring to.

As you can see it’s posted on the verified border security account and you can see two different nazi symbols on him :(

yeah it looks like standards for what they allow soldiers to adorn themselves with are low and the person taking and posting the pics aren't paying good enough attention because that guy also straight up has a naked anime bitch on his knife sheath

as I said this is an individual thing and they need to start knocking their heads together like the Three Stooges and sending them into trenches first

You know who saying that th**fab is actually a storied term that trans fems have been using to identify transmisogonists is fucking insane like girl that's such obvious lie give us nothing

they aren't even trying

It’s crazy how almost every other day on this site I see a new post with like 50k notes talking about how absolutely NOBODY deserves to be harassed, sent death threats or be put on blast yet once again I’m seeing people trying to justify the harassment of another transmasc teenager. Honestly people should just start openly admitting Tumblr is becoming increasingly hostile towards trans masculine individuals, I don’t see clownery on this level on any other platform-

Tumblr...is really bad.

I think the reason why this whole headcanons discourse bothers me so much is that is really is just fuelled by petty spite. Like all these characters are cisgender in canon. We make headcanons because it’s FUN to expand on characters in ways that reflect our different life experiences in whatever form that may take. Intentionally going after transmascs, especially young transmascs, for doing this with characters like they like and accusing them of all these different things genuinely does just feel like bigotry. Who cares if a head canon may not make the most amount of sense? It’s a cisgender fictional character we’re playing around with! Why does it have to be some grand act of activism to say blorbo number 3 is transmasc? We have much bigger fish to fry here.

exactly it's such dedication to not letting anyone else have anything

So sick of people acting like trans men are the same as cis men under the patriarchy and moreso im really sick of the "you're privileged to not be surrounded by men". Like, for lack of better phrasing, saying that about a group of people that is generally perceived as "failure women" pre transition (and sometimes during and post) is a little tone deaf. All about acknowledging how women and people perceived as women are harmed by misogyny until the ones perceived are men. Gender essentialism is ugly and tasteless and nonsensical. Please feel free to delete this im just rambling without a point

rambling is okay anon <3

„wow ur so privileged to not fear men”

i fear the fucking everyone asshole, i just realized that isnt everyone elses fault so i should still treat them with respect !!!!!

that woman called me a "self-hating doll" and I hate the second part a lot more than the first

[bridgemino]

okay, so i just really wanted to say this…kinda like a positive vent ig?

but simply being in the rcp fandom has really changed me. Having a community where I can hide and do and say the things i want to, is, to say the least, comforting. Pretty much everyone here is so sweet and kind, which really wasnt something I was used to when i first joined. I never thought that my favorite tv show as a kid would have such a loving fandom—or a fandom in general. No one I knew liked rcp, or even knew what it was. That, along with many other things, made me feel really detached from everyone else. I mean, I hyperfixate on a kid show…people thought it was weird. It wasn’t until one day, I ventured onto the internet to see if I could find really anything. When I figured out that this fandom existed, holy moly….lmao.

So many of you i’ve had positive interactions with, and I wish to have many more. Some people in this fandom I’ve barely met, but I hope we can be friends! I admire a lot of people in this fandom but I usually never know how to interact with them

I’ve met so many people because of this community, and it really made me more social in general. I’ve never really had anyone that I felt I could truly call my friend, but…. @stupidloafofbread is fucking awesome, first of all. I wanted to thank you specifically for being someone I could hang out with and simply say “hi” to. It’s weird but your like one of my only real friends and I aint gonna let that go. Happy new years, and I hope to be your friend for a while longer!! cheers 🔥🔥

Some of my biggest inspirations have been: @kidshowsarecool @lunar-rcp @polina-tvorozhok @ovakinddarling and @st3llast4rl1ght . Y’all have been the people I’ve looked up to since I got on tumblr/saw your blog. Whether it’s your writing or your art or just opinions on things even. You have been some of my biggest inspirations on here, and I appreciate you all!! Happy new years guys <3

Lastly, here are some people I just wanted to appreciate for simply existing. I appreciate you guys and I love what y’all do, even if it’s basically nothing lol. @themoldinyourlunchly @ririalww @rhunsui @darkoplayzzz @hayuki-marina @hearts--stars @anakerasuci @bulgariandeficit @eelmgee-latias @freakyrcpconfessions (idk what your main is, but yes you)@gukul @karolina-blok @not-sparrow-lol @ohmygodjahhhhhhh @veryhappyfurrydragon @vorib250 @weavingster @annintheclouds @pokoinik @stargirlie-sharon @s4uddy @petra608 @creatorfanatic @canyonkingdom @collinsahh @iwuvtallyhall @r0tt3nz @kaylamoonlight121 @straykittenidk @light-everything-in-pink @broomstownpatrol @ilikecarslol5

people outside of the rcp fandom that I feel need some love here too: @lilyflower0 @chicacherrycxla @veryhappyfurrydragon @wispcandle @graceandpurity @dog-eater822 @karmaerrors

I just wanted to mention you guys cuz your all awesome. if anyone wants their tag removed, or even added here, please let me know 💕 I tried to get everyone I could think of, so I’m really sorry if I missed you!!

Happy new years guys! Im sure we’ll all do great things in this new year. <3

[di-42]

A bit late this time, sorry! 

Almost all I had the time to read in December was the Scribbling Vaguely Downwards Advent Calendar collection. I’m late in catching up with one of the wonderful WIPs below, and I’m criminally late in catching up with the long fiction I’m reading, but it is what it is.

As always I’ll try to tag all the writers and artists whose tumblr username I know, so they know how loved and appreciated they are. If you know the username of someone I haven’t tagged please tag them. If you are on this list and would rather not, please let me know and I'll take you and your work off the list immediately. If you enjoy my lists and want to be tagged when I post them, give me a shout!

Last but not least, I wish you all a wonderful 2025, filled with friendship, creativity, discovery, awe and love for all things big and small, even Brother Snail.

Without further ado, let me tell you what I loved about

December’s Delightful Fictions

WIPs:

Wavelengths & Frequencies, by @shadesofecclescakes and imposterssyndrome @maaikeatthefullmoon Rated E, chapters 16/?

This story is such a warm, cozy, comfort blanket. Enemies-to-lovers human AU where Aziraphale and Crowley work as DJ for the same media corporation. They have a history, but we don't know what it is at the beginning. Great story, great humour, great characterisation, great fuzzies, absolutely great banter! I look forward to every update and do a little joyful dance every time I get an update notification. This fiction is becoming one of my all time favourites.

You're The Bad Guys, by Nebz_AlphaCentauri @alphacentaurinebula Rated E, chapters 23/26?

Cold war human AU in which Aziraphale is an MI6 agent and Crowley is a KGB agent. Each of them is assigned to a mission in Berlin, from opposite sides of course. Great characterisation, suspense and references to canon.

Scribbling Vaguely Downwards Advent Calendar:

A lovely collection of winter and Christmas themed one shots, short stories and artworks, to which I’ve been lucky enough to take part. I invite you to go through the whole collection, as each piece is a little gem. I have read all but two of the stories, which will be in my January list.

My own piece for the collection, Only Ever Meant For Someone Else, rated T, 9k.

Every year, the night before Christmas, taxi driver Aziraphale drives passengers to and from the hospital for charity. On the Christmas morning of 2023 he was ready to go home and rest with a cup of tea, a mince pie, and a book after a long night.

Guess who?

This my very first attempt at human AU, and it was great fun to write it without being bound by anything canon. It gave me a chance to play with some feelings and characterisations that I just don’t see in canon, but I like in fiction. I tried to throw in the mix a bit of humour, a tiny bit of short lived angst and, of course a happy ending!

Naked And Afraid: Jingle Hell by @klikandtuna, rated T, 24k.

Human AU. A fictional transcription of an episode of reality show Naked And Afraid. Yes, Naked And Afraid is a real show, and no, you don’t need to have watched it to enjoy this sweet, funny, from strangers-to-lovers fiction. Lighthearted and yet tense, great characterisation, banter, will-they-won’t-they, humour, this fiction has it all! I absolutely loved it. Honestly, you don’t know me, but trust me: if I speak enthusiastically about a fiction based on a survival show, it must be that good.

Nooooo Mooooore Touching My Angel by Adara83, 2k.

Post second coming story where angels and demons have meetings and get-togethers. At the latest Christmas meeting Crowley and Aziraphale got very protective of each other. Very sweet story.

Something On The Wind (Or Jingle Chimes) by Aspiring_Eccentric, 5k.

I loved this human AU! Crowley has been driven mad by the new neighbour’s wind chimes. I don’t think I need to tell you who the new neighbour is. Humour, fluff, flirting and spot on characterisation, this fiction was a real Christmas treat!

An Ineffable Christmas Carol by Aikosakura, artwork.

1800s Crowley and Aziraphale take a Christmas eve stroll.

A Christmas Miracle by IneffableChocolateCheeseCake and Ngk @ngk-668rated E, 4k.

A sweet, hot, and funny in-canon story where supreme archangel Gabriel grants all the angels a free miracle to use for personal purposes one Christmas day. Guess how Aziraphale chooses to use his? Words by Ngk and art by IneffableChocolateCheeseCake. Lovely, lovely story!

My Angel, My Light by icegirl99, rated T, 2k.

Aziraphale drags Crowley to be the elf to his Santa one Christmas eve. Gentle and fluffy. 

They Are The Magi by LyricalKris, rated T, 8k.

Lovely human AU where Aziraphale and Crowley meet at a book club and end up meaning the world to each other.

Winter’s Rages by miladyshakespeare, rated G, 427 words.

A storm is raging in 1719. Any more than that would mean spoiling the story, but honestly, it’s astounding that so much goodness and so much subtle humour is contained in such a short story. Artful and clever, I truly loved it!

Reindeer Mistletoe by Yvesriba, rated G, artwork.

Those reindeer antlers couldn't have been in a better place!

The Soho Route by Caedmon @caedmonfaith , rated G, 11k.

Human AU where Crowley is a delivery man who’s taken a shine to the lovely bookseller he delivers parcels to. If only the bookseller was interested in him. A sweet story featuring an oblivious Crowley and an undeterred Aziraphale.

It’s A Wonderful Film by Heretic1103, rated T, 2k.

Post canon Cgristmas eve, filled with fluff and domestic bliss. Lovely.

Do You Remember The Roses? (The Snow Queen Retold With Good Omens Characters) by Augenblickgotter, rated G, 13k.

Lovely retelling of the Andersen’s tale.

Furfur, A Red-Nosed Reindeer by @ineffablechocolatecheesecake, rated T, artwork.

Great artwork featuring Crowley and Aziraphale doing what they should be doing all the time! But poor Furfur!

The Perfect Christmas by HumoringHolly, rated M, 13k.

Post canon story set a few years in the future. Aziraphale and Crowley host a Christmas party and invite Adam and Warlock. They hit it off in the best possible way! 

A Light In The Darkness by PinkPenguinParade, rated G, 561 words.

Lovely, warm post canon scene.

A Little Peek by Dukeofnone, rated, artwork.

The sweetest Crowley and Aziraphale peek from the boxes of an advent calendar. I loved this artwork!

Hissy Fit by @dragonfire42, rated T, 6k.

Inspired by Gleafer’s art this story is hilarious, delightful, heartwarming, and wonderfully written. Great characterisation and banter and strong Aziraphale, to which I may or may not be partial to. Crowley is shedding, enough said. I laughed all the way through.

Mnemosyne’s Feast by ravendiana, rated G, 1k.

Canon-divergent story where the final fifteen never happened. Crowley doesn’t trust himself with words, so he attempts to communicate his feelings to Aziraphale through memories awoken by food. This story was really touching and heartwarming, I loved it so much!

Radiant by CaelumCalamitas, rated G, 4k.

Lovely South Down cottage story with an incredibly warm and touching ending.

Eyes On Me by AVoiceBehindTheStars, rated G, artwork.

Aziraphale is teaching Crowley to ice skate. Beautiful piece framing a lovely moment in the existences of the husbands.

The Angel Tree by GoodInspirationsAD, rated T, 8k.

Post season 2 fiction with a lovely happy ending. Aziraphale is in heaven and Crowley, as heartbroken as he is, replaces him in making sure the London Hospital Angel Tree initiative has presents for all the patients. Meanwhile, Aziraphale worries that, with him in heaven, some patients will be left with no gifts, so he has to go down to earth and fulfill the patients’ wishes. Hurt, comfort, communication, intimacy, South Down cottage, AND Cgristmas all in one fiction, what more do you want?

All My Own In A Big Red Bow by @supergeek21, rated E, 2k.

Present wrapping frustration, present unwrapping heat. Sexy and tender at the same time.

Tom Bawcock’s Eve by Snowfilly1, rated T, 2k.

I loved this story about human resilience and bravery. A long time ago, Crowley and Aziraphale went to a village in Cornwall and helped the villagers fight against a storm.

Holy Infant, So Tender And Mild by Caedmon, rated G, 3k.

Jesus has been born and an angel and a demon keep him entertained while Mary rests.

Geminids by astral_gravy, not rated, artwork.

I absolutely love this amazing piece showing our favourite angel and demon in the midst of a meteor shower! Beautiful!

Boxing Day by Starshadow667, not rated, 1.7k.

Crowley and Aziraphale go ice skating with their children.

Stargazer by Raechem, rated G, 2k.

Oh, I loved this story, I truly did. So gentle, and touching, and deep. Set at some point in the past, OC’s POV. OC helps a snake she finds in her garden that had been caught in some rope. The snake comes to visit her again, and an owl comes looking for the snake. I don’t want to spoil it and won’t say anything else, but please show some love to this gem of a fiction.

Dec 31- Happy New Year! by Miele_Petite, rated G, artwork.

Biblical Crowley and Aziraphale with a night sky background. Beautiful!

November's list here.

[abiatackerman]

Can I request a sfw Oneshot of crying levi getting confronted by the reader and being snuggly with each other? Also love your works (>∆<)

Throughout the whole show Levi only cried twice. Once when his mother teacup broke and twice when Isabel and Furlan died. It's really hard for me to imagine Levi crying in a sober state but I tried to write a Oneshot for you.

Also sorry for being so goddamn late... I was really busy and couldn't get the time to write! Anyways enjoy!

When steel shatters

⚔️Levi Ackerman x Female reader⚔️

Captain Levi Ackerman x Female reader! Fluff and comfort! Emotional breakdown! Fluffy romance! 1.1k words!

Summary: After a rough day and getting drunk, Levi finally expresses his true emotions, searching for comfort from you.

Tags: @theremainsof @spouseofleviackerman @levisbrat25 @itsnathateasy @violentvaleska @anti-cupid @meowmewow7 @mikabella7 @satorella

🩷If you want to be tagged let me know🩷

✨Masterlist✨

🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷

The small space of Levi's room is dimly lit by the soft glow of a single oil lamp on a sturdy wooden desk, casting warm, flickering light across the room as you sneakily enter. Shadows dance on the plain stone walls as a neatly made single bed with crisp white sheets and a simple gray blanket rests against one wall. The air carries a faint scent of tea leaves and cleaning supplies, a testament to Levi's meticulous habits.

Normally Levi keeps his room unlocked since he doesn't have anything important or expensive in his room and also because he knows no one dares to enter HIS room. Not that he spends much time here either.

You smile as you hear the sound of water splashing against the floor from the bathroom attached to the room. Of course Levi's taking a shower after a busy day and after dealing with lot of shitty things in his opinion.

You sigh and sit on the bed with a smile as you try to imagine him naked and wet while his showering. Blushing you shake your head because you know if you keep imagine him a little bit more you'll lost your self control completely and probably jump on him. And you don't want that... At least not today because you're here to show him some support after a hard day, not to jump on him.

As you hear the door opening you sit straight and smile widely.

"Hey Levi... I--"

You pause as you look at him. He's practically wearing nothing but a towel around his waist, displaying his deliciously stunning body which still have little droplets of water here and there.

"What are you doing here?"

Levi's annoyed voice slaps you out of your not so innocent thoughts and you blink. Smiling, you reply softly.

"Just wanted to see you. That's why I'm here."

Levi pulls a shirt out of his drawer and starts to wear it without looking at you.

"Didn't I told you not to come to my room?"

Levi asks coldly and you sigh.

"Heard you had a rough day... Just wanted to..."

You try to find the right words but Levi stops you.

"Console me? Show some sympathy? I'm not that pathetic that I'll be needing that. Not go back to you room."

He says as he wears his usual pants and you look at him speechless. You take a deep breath and stand up.

"Look Levi, I know you had a bad day but don't you think you're being too rude with me? When I just wanted to give you a little bit of comfort?"

You ask in an upset tone.

"No… You don't understand. What if someone else had sneaked in? What if your loud entrance had let them know you were coming, and they had hurt you? I'm the Captain of the Survey Corps, I have made a lot of enemies. I need to make sure you are safe and out of the spotlight so nothing happens to you."

You look at him worriedly as he lashes out. Then softly hold his hand, you look at him worriedly.

"You're acting out of your character, Levi? Is something wrong? What happened?"

You ask softly, not pressuring him to answer but still expressing your worries for him.

"Everything is wrong with me! I'm a disaster. I'm a bad leader, a bad friend, and a horrible lover! The only thing I’m good at is hiding. Hiding my emotions, my pain... Erwin's shitty plans."

There are tears pooling in his eyes, threatening to fall.

"I lost lot of people.. Was their sacrifice even worth it? When their family member were cries holding their corpses... I can't even look at them. Sone of them even had a children...."

You see Levi's eyes tearing up and you realise that he drank a lot. That's why he was late and since he is good at handling alcohol he's not completely drunk. But because of the alcohol he's showing his emotions and opening up to you.

Wrapping one arm around his neck and by patting his back with the other you start to whisper softly in his ears.

"Don't say that, Levi. You're the best soldier out there.... You've killed a lot of titans! That's a huge achievement! You're everyone's encouragement, darling. And you're a great friend... Also lover."

You say and move your head right in front of his while wiping his tears away.

"Don't say that please.... It hurts me. Seeing you hurt... Insulting yourself.... It hurts me."

You say as your voice cracks and as you try to smile.

Levi pulls away slightly so that he can look at you in the eyes.

"I'm not the best with words. I'm blunt and harsh, I know. But I would never intentionally hurt you… I love you too much."

He whispers, cupping your face with his hand.

"After losing Isabel and Furlan.... If I lose you too.... I'll be broken completely.... You're the only one to whom I can truly open up. Please don't leave me."

Levi whispers and hugs you tightly, burying his face in your neck. You sigh and pat his back, smiling softly.

"I won't... As long as I'm alive."

Then you chuckle again as you feel Levi nuzzling his face against your shirt to wipe his tears.

"What are you doing?"

You ask in an amused tone and feel Levi's body getting more heavier.

"It's just... Shit... I drank a lot today... And now it's hitting me. I'm tired."

Levi mumbles and you smile as you help Levi to lay down. He sighs deeply and covers his eyes with the back of his arm. You smile softly and cover his body with a blanket.

"Go to sleep, love. You've been working hard."

You mumble softly as Levi hums sleepily.

"Night, Angel."

[echo-goes-mmm]

Regress

My Writing Masterpost

Juno Collection Masterpost

Previous

Warnings: slavery, mild delirium

Something was wrong.

Master had called for the healers and the court mage when he woke, and now they were huddled around the bed, staring at him and talking.

He couldn’t move; too drained to turn his head. Juno blinked, slowly. 

The kennel was in the corner of the room. Its door was open, the bear he made from scraps of fabric sitting inside.

Tears rolled down his cheeks. He wanted to crawl inside his crate, cozy and safe and without eyes and hands on him.

The healer reached for him, and he flinched. She grabbed his wrist anyway, checking his pulse.

“It’s slow,” she said after a moment, and Juno’s eyes flicked to Master. 

“He hasn’t moved,” Master said. “I tried to get him to sit up earlier so he could eat, but-”

I’m sorry, Juno wanted to say. Instead, he only breathed.

He heard the healer uncork a bottle. “Just needs more potion,” she said soothingly to Master. Juno’s mouth went dry. Not more magic, please.

She reached for his jaw-

“Actually,” the wizard said, sipping on a lime green drink. “I wouldn’t.” He went around the bed, out of view.

“Juno,” the wizard said from behind him. “Does this hurt?” He prodded his bare side, and Juno startled.

“Stop it!” Master hissed at the mage. “He can’t answer you anyway, remember?”

Juno closed his eyes. Useless, worthless, defective.

“Juno,” someone said in front of him, and he was so tired. Couldn’t they put him away so he could sleep?

“Juno, please.”

He opened his eyes. The wizard was at eye level, sitting on his heels.

“Did that hurt? It’s important. Blink once for yes and twice for no,” he said.

It didn’t, but Juno was sore all over. Bone-deep soreness, and weighed down with sleep and near paralysis.

He blinked twice.

The wizard stood. “See? I think he’s mostly healed. Just sore and tired.”

“More potion would-” the healer started.

“Would kill him, maybe,” the wizard went on. “He’s Timorsian. Our healing potions are based on Rhodantheian physiology. Juno doesn’t have inner magic, so it’s working slower and harder on his system-”

Juno stopped listening. He stared at the wall behind the court mage. He could feel the world becoming more and more fuzzy; slipping away like mist on the wind, just like it did every night when he was too tired.

Now it was the middle of the day, not evening where the shadows leapt at him and his hands shook.

“Juno? Juno?”

He couldn’t do it.

He drifted.

___________________

The healer had prescribed bedrest for a week or until he recovered his strength, whichever came first.

Juno couldn’t imagine doing anything else.

He was trapped on his bed, sprawled out on his stomach, head turned to the left.

His bed. 

It really wasn’t his bed, it was a bed, in a room that Master let him use. Because he was generous.

Master was so kind. He even asked after painkillers, but the healer told him no. That it might interfere with the process.

Juno didn’t deserve Master’s kindness. He had been disobedient.

He was still waiting to be punished for it.

___________________

Master hovered over him. It was scary, and Juno didn’t like it. He was still naked, and the idea that Master would just grab him and-

He let the thought slip away.

Master hand-fed him. Little bits of fruit and fish, and that felt normal. Natural. Was he being good? 

As he swallowed, he realized his collar felt weird. Light and airy, instead of grounding and familiar.

It wasn’t his collar at all. Wasn’t his comforting leather with a brass tag.

Where was his collar? How would people know he belonged to someone? 

Had he been bad?

Tears filled his eyes as Master fed him another bite. He swallowed, whimpered.

Please, what did I do wrong? Don’t you love me anymore?

No answer.

He cried as quietly as possible. Master liked silence. If he wanted to be good again, he needed to be small.

___________________

The kennel was so far away. But it was safety.

He shouldn’t be on a bed. This was Master’s bed, and he was on it. For no reason.

Bad. Disobedient. Horrible creature.

Juno struggled to pick himself up off the bed. 

“Juno, no!” said a voice above him. A hand pushed him back down, and he couldn’t help but burst into tears.

But why? Why wasn’t he allowed to hide away?

“Juno, please don’t cry. What do you need?”

He couldn’t lift himself again, even to point to his perfect, quiet crate. All he could do was sob and sob and hope Master wasn’t around to hear him.

The hands moved him onto his back, propping him up on the pillows. A tissue wiped away his misery.

“I think I should teach you some sign, or to write, or something,” the voice said.

No! No nononono-

He tried to move away, to thrash against the man’s grip, but it was useless.

He sank back into the pillows, staring off into the distance. 

Juno didn’t want his hands broken or his eyes torn out. 

So as the man talked and moved and tried to get him to look at paper and markings-

He looked away.

He just wanted his kennel and collar.

He just wanted to rest.

taglist: @haro-whumps @paintedpigeon1 @phoenixpromptsandstuff @tianablackwell @starsick1979

[vechter]

2024 WRITING REVIEW

tagged by @malinaa my beloved <3 tagging: @acediscowlng @androxys @burins @danishsweethearts @daringyounggrayson @mintchocochipsposts and anyone else who hasn't been tagged yet!!!

number of stories posted to ao3: i kinda went crazy in the second half of the year... 4 fics although 3 are one-shots

word counted posted for last year: 46,426 of which LBIA is a whopping 40,444 oops

fandoms i wrote for: dc comics

pairings: dickroy... my brand and my heart <3

stories with the most kudos, bookmarks and comment threads: look back in anger sweep with 432 kudos, 277 bookmarks and 71 comment threads

work i’m most proud of (and why): gotta be look back in anger just bc it was a huge undertaking... for the 2 months before i posted the first chapter, i was furiously consumed by thoughts of it every free moment... so to finally get it out was just a catharsis... relief and a moment of pride

work i’m least proud of (and why): angie, they can't say we never tried because it was just a way for me to avoid writing the final chapter of LBIA lmao and i think it kinda shows in the writing... like it feels like a very surface level read? it's sweet but it's just a bit lacklustre

share or describe a favorite review you received: anything mintchocochips comments bc she's so good at pinpointing the metaphors and the moments that are integral to the scene... like it rlly feels like she really considers each line with love and that's so, so wonderful to hear <3 also this one just hit me rlly hard too:

(special shoutout to lys's long-winded threats on shaking it off to find a higher low... consider me endeared and scared bb)

a time when writing was really, really hard: can i say this whole year... like fr the first half of this year was a LOT so i had ideas but they never came to fruition. also november. fuck that month.

a scene or character you wrote that surprised you: listen... i write what i love so anytime you guys see dickroy in my fics, it should not be a surprise. but the dick & garth scene in chapter 1 of LBIA was very fun for me bc we don't often see garth get the same love as the other members of the fab five (i'm guilty of it myself sadly)... and i just thought it was such a missed opportunity for them to connect and mull over their respective deaths + subsequent resurrections. so, to write that was really interesting bc i wanted the tether of the titans to be a different thing for them post-death.

a favourite excerpt of your writing:

i've posted a part of this before but i looove this section from it builds and builds and builds:

It’s exhausting trying to keep track of Dick’s faith in him. The glow of moments Dick will trust him implicitly, the gut-punch when Nightwing is implacable, even to him. He doesn’t know how Dick does it— how he lives like that, the uncontrolled chaos of his mind that can either be a deadly laser or an explosive bomb on a dime. There’s no pattern to it at all; Roy thought he knew all there was to know about fickleness after Ollie but Dick’s always proving him wrong. (The first lesson Oliver Queen taught him: when you pull back the bowstring, you learn how to let go.)

how did you grow as a writer last year: bro i regressed... i used to be capable of writing happy endings... i don't think i remember how to do that anymore. but tbh, i did get a lot into the visual considerations and rhetoric of prose + how it contributes to overall mood while reading. it's why LBIA is so fragmented and so densely littered with indents/parentheses.

how do you hope to grow this year: i need to write less vignette based stuff and focus more on building a flow of events in the same chunk of text... i would like to be capable of moving from point A to point B on screen itself.

who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer, beta, cheerleader, etc.): @dandeeliion elle you were the first person to really hear about LBIA and you're one of the main reasons i got the courage to put the fic out so you have my unending love and appreciation. also, @ekleiipsis for listening to all my rants... i love you mar <3 also big shoutout to the gc for just generally gassing me up and loving my writing it means the world 🥺

anything from your real life show up in your writing last year: hahahah... what if you had been performing your whole life and you didn't know who you were when that performance was taken away... what then

any new wisdom you can share with other writers: a first draft is a first draft no matter how shitty you may think it is

any projects you’re looking to starting (or finishing) this year: pre-flashpoint long fic with a focus on dick, donna and roy + their respective traumas during dickbats era/blackest night/rise of arsenal. also really want to write a dick and cass case fic where their individual strengths and weaknesses are highlighted... only for the power of teamwork to save them ultimately <3

[sh1nr]

Dangerous Love

Jang Kyujin x Male Reader

wc: 4k

ao3

tags: mild angst, fluff, partners in crime, first kiss

(tw) blood, injury, near death experience

summary: What happens when someone saves you from almost dying?

"Told you to not wave that gun around" Kyujin said cleaning the blood off your hand

"I didn't know it had ammunition" You said "God it hurt like hell i swear i thought i would die"

Kyujin raised an eyebrow, her expression cold as she wiped the blood with a cloth. "You should've known better. Guns aren't toys." Her voice was low, laced with a hint of annoyance, but there was something else there, something that betrayed her worry.

You winced, your hand still clutching your side, the pain sharp and biting. "I didn’t even mean to pull the trigger. It was just… a reflex. And I didn’t think it was loaded. Who keeps a gun loaded like that?"

"People who know what they're doing, and you're not part of that group." Kyujin said sharply.

"Look i'm sorry" You said

"Yeah your ass should be sorry" Kyujin said as she finished cleaning your hand, her eyes still cold but lingering with a trace of concern. "You’re lucky it wasn’t worse. That shot could’ve hit anything—your heart, your lungs."

"I get it" You said

"You don't. And won't until you kill someone or yourself." Kyujin said

You flinched at the harshness in Kyujin's voice. It hit harder than the pain in your side. You knew Kyujin was right, but the weight of her words felt suffocating.

“I wasn’t trying to hurt anyone,” You whispered, your voice shaky. You let your head fall back against the wall, staring up at the ceiling as if the answer would reveal itself there.

Kyujin exhaled slowly, her breath heavy with frustration. She sat down beside you, looking at the wound. "You're lucky. It’s not deep, but you need to get that patched up before it gets worse."

"I'll be fine," You muttered, not wanting to admit that you were scared, not just from the pain, but from the reality of what you did

"Stop lying." Kyujin said

Kyujin reached into her bag and pulled out a first aid kit. Her movements were deliberate, efficient, almost too calm given the situation. "Take your shirt off," she commanded, her voice leaving no room for argument.

You hesitated, your cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and vulnerability. "Do you really have to-"

"Now, Y/n," Kyujin cut you off, her eyes sharp. "Or do you want to risk an infection on top of everything else?"

Grumbling under your breath, you complied, wincing as you pulled your shirt over your head. The sight of the wound made your stomach turn. It wasn’t as bad as you thought, but the dried blood and the raw edges of the graze were enough to make you realize how close you came to a real disaster.

Kyujin didn’t say anything as she got to work. The silence between you both was heavy, filled with the unspoken tension of the moment. The sting of the antiseptic made you flinch, but you bit your lip to keep from crying out. You didn’t want to give Kyujin the satisfaction of knowing how much it hurt.

"This is weird" You said

"Don't act like i haven't seen you naked before" Kyujin said

Your cheeks turned an even deeper shade of red. "That’s not the point. This is… different."

Kyujin rolled her eyes, her focus unwavering as she cleaned the wound. "Different how? Because you’re feeling guilty this time?"

You groaned, your head falling back again. "Do you always have to be so blunt?"

"Do you always have to be so reckless?" Kyujin shot back

"Do you have to be so rude?" You shot back

Kyujin paused, her hands hovering over the bandage she was about to apply. She looked up, meeting your eyes with a mix of exasperation and concern. "You think I’m rude? Fine. But next time if you shoot yourself accidentally I'm not helping you."

"Whatever" You mumbled

"Don't 'whatever' me. I'm younger but I act like an adult not you." Kyujin said

You let out a frustrated sigh, but there was a part of you that knew Kyujin had a point. Your reckless nature had always gotten you into trouble, and yet Kyujin was always there to pick up the pieces. That thought made you feel guilty all over again.

"I don’t need you to act like my mom," You muttered, trying to deflect the vulnerability you were feeling.

Kyujin didn’t react immediately. She simply finished securing the bandage, her fingers lingering a moment longer than necessary, almost as if she was checking to make sure you were okay. "I’m not acting like your mom. I’m trying to keep you alive. Don’t confuse the two."

"You do act like a mom though" You said

Kyujin’s expression softened for a moment, though it quickly shifted back to her usual tough demeanor. "Maybe I do. Someone has to look out for you when you keep making stupid decisions." You didn’t respond right away, the silence hanging heavy between you both again. You couldn’t help but feel a surge of gratitude mixed with embarrassment. Kyujin had always been the one to steady you when you spiraled, and you hated feeling so dependent. It made you feel weak.

"I’m sorry," You said quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. "I didn’t mean to put you in this position."

Kyujin looked up, her gaze piercing. "You say that, but you keep doing the same shit over and over. When are you going to learn?"

You took a deep breath, your fingers playing nervously with the edge of the blanket you were sitting on. "I don’t know. Maybe when I don’t have you to help me anymore."

Kyujin’s eyes softened, but only just a little bit. "You’re not getting rid of me that easy." She stood up, packing the first aid kit away with swift movements. "But I’m not going to be here to patch you up every time you screw up."

"I get it," You said, your tone quieter now. You looked at the bandage on your side, feeling a mix of frustration and gratitude. You weren't sure if you were more frustrated with yourself or the way Kyujin always seemed to know exactly what to say to make you realize how reckless you had been.

Kyujin paused, then looked back at you. "Next time, I’m locking up all the guns. You’re not touching anything without me, understand?"

You let out a soft laugh, though it lacked humor. "Yeah, I understand." You looked up at Kyujin, feeling the weight of your unspoken bond between them. "Thanks, Kyujin."

Kyujin’s eyes softened for a moment, her usual sharp edge replaced by something warmer. "Just don’t make me regret it," she said, before turning and heading toward the door.

"I won’t," You said quietly, watching her leave. You leaned back, closing your eyes, the pain in your side still present but somehow less consuming. It was strange, how Kyujin always knew how to make you feel better, even when you didn’t want to admit it. You sat there for a moment longer, the silence of the room settling around you. Your hand instinctively went to the bandage, checking to make sure it was secure. It was a small comfort, but it was the only one you had right now. You could still feel the weight of the gun in your hand, the shock of the trigger pulling itself, and the pain that followed. The reality of it all seemed surreal, like it had happened to someone else

Just then Kyujin walked back into the room Kyujin stood in the doorway for a moment, watching you with a look that was unreadable. She had gone to grab something from her bag, but now, seeing you sitting there, she paused.

"I thought you might need this," Kyujin said, breaking the silence as she walked over with a glass of water and a small pill bottle.

You looked up at her, her expression softening. "You don’t have to keep taking care of me, you know," you said, a hint of guilt creeping into your voice.

Kyujin ignored the comment, setting the glass down in front of you. "You’re not getting rid of me, Y/n. Just take the damn water."

You sighed, but took the glass and drank from it, feeling the cool liquid soothe your dry throat. You swallowed the last of it and glanced back at Kyujin. "I’m really sorry. I didn't mean for any of this to happen."

Kyujin didn't say anything for a moment, her eyes narrowing as if she was thinking about what to say next. Finally, she sat down next to you, her voice quieter this time. "I know you didn’t. But you always do this. You rush into things without thinking."

"I’m impulsive," You admitted, looking down at your hands. "I know. I just… I don’t always think things through. And sometimes it feels like it’s the only way to feel in control. But then I screw up, and you're the one who has to fix it."

Kyujin’s gaze softened slightly, though there was still a faint edge to her voice. "It’s not just about fixing things, Y/n. It’s about you putting yourself, and others, at risk. You're better than this. You don’t need to keep trying to prove something by getting hurt."

Your breath caught in your throat, and you looked away, your gaze distant. "I’m trying. I just don’t know how to stop. Sometimes it feels like I can't control it… like it’s too much, and I do something reckless just to… escape, or feel something different."

Kyujin studied you for a moment, then reached out, placing a hand on your shoulder. "You don’t have to keep running, Y/n. You’ve got people who care about you, whether you realize it or not. And I'm not going anywhere."

Your eyes stung, your chest tightening with emotion you hadn’t expected. You swallowed hard, nodding. "I know… it’s just hard sometimes."

"I get that," Kyujin said quietly, her voice softening. "But you don’t have to do it alone."

You didn’t answer right away, but after a moment, you allowed yourself to lean into Kyujin’s side, the warmth of her presence calming the storm inside you. It wasn’t a perfect fix, and you knew there was a lot to work through, but for the first time in a long time, you felt a small sense of relief. Maybe, just maybe, you didn’t have to fight everything by yourself.

Kyujin’s arm wrapped around you, a silent gesture of support that spoke volumes. The weight of the world didn’t seem as heavy when someone else was there to share it, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to let go of the constant pressure she always felt to be strong, to have everything under control.

Just as Kyujin wrapped both of your arms around your waist you winced. "Oh sorry" Kyujin said

"Sorry for ruining the romantic moment" You teased

"Dont." Kyujin said with a smirk "Romantic moment? What did you mean by that?" Kyujin asked

You raised an eyebrow, your lips curling into a playful grin. "Well, you know… with the whole 'I’m here for you' thing, and the arm around my waist, it kind of felt like a scene from one of those melodramatic romance movies."

"We are not having those lovers in danger moments." Kyujin said

"Unfortunate" You said with a smirk

"What do you mean?" Kyujin asked

You smirked, your eyes twinkling with mischief. "I mean, I think we could pull it off. You know, the whole ‘tragic hero’ thing? You, the brooding protector, and me, the reckless one who needs saving. It’s practically a perfect plot."

Kyujin rolled her eyes, though the small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth betrayed her amusement. "You’re delusional. I’m not playing your damsel-in-distress fantasy."

"Who said anything about a damsel?" You teased, nudging her lightly with your elbow. "Besides, I think we could be the type of couple that survives a crazy situation together, you know? Like those action movie pairs."

Kyujin raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. "Y/n, we’re not going there. I’m not saving your ass every time you make a mistake.

"We would also be the couple that steals a kiss or two during a mission" You said

Kyujin froze for a moment, her expression unreadable as she processed your words. Then, with a deep sigh, she leaned back, crossing her arms with an exaggerated look of annoyance. "You really do have a thing for drama, huh?"

You shrugged, your grin widening. "Maybe I just like the idea of us being the center of a story. A really epic, action-packed story."

Kyujin shook her head, though there was a spark of amusement in her eyes. "You're ridiculous, you know that?"

"Hey, it’s not my fault that you’re too good at playing the part of the brooding protector," You teased, leaning back against the wall with a smirk. "All you need now is a leather jacket and a mysterious past."

"I think you need to relax a little." Kyujin said

"Can't when it's you." You said

"I'm not playing into your romantic delusions" Kyujin said

"Not a delusion but a reality." You said

"You're…something for sure." Kyujin said

You let out a soft chuckle, your heart lightening as both of you exchanged playful banter. There was something comforting about the back-and-forth, the way you both could slip into moments of normalcy despite everything that had just happened. It was almost like a reminder that life wasn’t just about the chaos and mistakes—it was about these little exchanges, the ones that made everything feel a little more bearable.

"I think you're just secretly enjoying it," You said with a mischievous grin, nudging Kyujin once more. "You can't fool me, I know you secretly love the drama."

Kyujin scoffed, though the faint blush on her cheeks betrayed her. "I’m seriously starting to question my life choices right now."

"Why?" You asked, your voice dripping with playful innocence. "Because you're stuck with me? Because I make your life interesting?"

Kyujin rolled her eyes but didn’t pull away. "I think you’d be a lot easier to handle if you weren’t always trying to drag me into your ridiculous scenarios."

"Hey, at least I keep things fun," You retorted, flashing her a bright grin. "Wouldn’t you be bored without me?"

There was a brief moment of silence as Kyujin studied you, a soft smile tugging at her lips. "Maybe," she admitted, before looking away, as if trying to hide the vulnerability that flickered across her face. "You can be exhausting though."

You leaned in closer "But you love me."

"I swear, you're going to be the death of me." Kyujin said taking a step away

"I think that happened a while ago." You said taking a step closer to her

"If you're referencing you shooting yourself? Yeah." Kyujin said taking a step away

"Maybe, but also something else." You said taking a step closer to her once again

"Which is?" Kyujin asked taking a step away once again

You grinned, a teasing spark in your eyes as you closed the distance between them. "The fact that you can't seem to stay away from me, even when I make your life a living nightmare."

Kyujin scoffed, though there was no real heat behind it. "You're delusional if you think I'm sticking around because of you."

Your grin widened as you took another step forward, now standing just a few inches from Kyujin. "Come on, admit it. You like the chaos. It keeps you on your toes."

Kyujin met your gaze for a moment, her expression shifting as she thought about it. Her usual sarcasm was gone, replaced by something more genuine, even if she didn’t want to fully acknowledge it. "I don’t know if ‘like’ is the word I'd use," she said, voice softening slightly. "But maybe I’m not as immune to it as I thought."

You raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by the crack in Kyujin's armor. "So, you're telling me… you’re not secretly enjoying our little dance of tension?"

Kyujin’s face flushed slightly, but she quickly masked it with a roll of her eyes "I didn't say that." You leaned in closer, your playful grin not fading as you studied Kyujin's expression. "Oh? So you are enjoying it, just a little bit, huh?"

Kyujin crossed her arms tightly, clearly trying to keep her composure, but the flush on her cheeks was undeniable. "You’re unbelievable," she muttered, though there was a hint of warmth in her voice that she couldn't quite hide.

You chuckled, taking another step forward until there was barely any space between you both. "Admit it. You’re secretly entertained by me."

Kyujin let out a deep sigh, her gaze dropping for a moment, and then she looked up, her eyes softening slightly. "You… make things interesting, Y/n. But don't think for a second that I enjoy all of it."

"All of what?" You asked, your voice quieter now, the teasing tone replaced by something more sincere.

Kyujin hesitated, her eyes flickering briefly before she spoke. "All the mess… the chaos you bring. But… yeah, I guess… I guess I can’t help but stick around."

Your heart skipped a beat at the admission. You could feel the weight of the words, and for the first time, you allowed yourself to take them in fully, not just as a joke or playful teasing, but as something real.

“You really do care, huh?” You asked softly, your voice quieter now, almost vulnerable.

Kyujin didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she looked at you for a long moment, her expression a mix of frustration and tenderness. Finally, she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. "You’re an idiot, but I care about you. More than I probably should."

Your heart softened, a gentle warmth spreading through her chest. For a moment, it felt like the walls between you two had crumbled, and all the teasing and banter melted away, leaving something much deeper, something more vulnerable and real.

"Yeah but i'm your idiot." You said

Kyujin’s eyes softened, and she let out a quiet laugh, her usual sarcasm slipping away as she looked at you "You're my cute silly idiot"

"Cute? Aww!" You said

Kyujin rolled her eyes, though the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her amusement. "Don't get too carried away," she teased, her voice light but still carrying that soft warmth. "You know I'm only saying it because it's true."

You grinned, your playful demeanor never fully fading. "I’m still your idiot though, right? The one you can't seem to shake off."

Kyujin shook her head, though her eyes were soft. "Unfortunately, yes. You’re stuck with me."

Your grin softened into something more sincere, your eyes meeting Kyujin’s. "I’m okay with that. As long as you don’t mind me being a little… extra sometimes."

Kyujin raised an eyebrow, a small chuckle escaping her. "Extra? You mean all the time."

You nodded, your expression teasing again. "Well, you love it, don’t you?"

Kyujin gave you a mock glare, but the playfulness in her voice didn’t hide the affection. "I might, but don’t get too cocky about it."

Your heart fluttered at the tenderness in Kyujin’s tone, the unspoken connection between you both thickening with every word. "You know, for someone who pretends to hate me, you’re really bad at hiding it."

Kyujin rolled her eyes again, but this time, there was no denying the soft smile on her face. "I don’t hate you. I’m just… trying to keep you in check. You’re a handful."

"Only for you," You replied, your voice low but teasing.

Kyujin sighed dramatically, though her smile never faded. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever."

"I would still kiss you by the way" You said

"Try me." Kyujin said Your grin only widened at the challenge, your heart racing slightly at the playful dare in Kyujin's voice. You leaned in just a little closer, your breath brushing against Kyujin’s cheek, the tension between them palpable. For a moment, the world outside of your little bubble seemed to disappear, leaving only the space between the both of you.

Kyujin didn’t pull away, but her expression was a mix of amusement and something deeper, something more vulnerable. Her lips quivered into a smirk, clearly still testing the boundaries, but there was something unspoken in the way she didn’t move.

Your eyes flickered to Kyujin’s lips for a brief second, then back to her eyes. “Are you sure about that?” you asked, your voice almost a whisper now, the teasing tone replaced by a softer, more serious edge.

Kyujin’s gaze softened, and she let out a quiet sigh. “I don’t know,” she said, her voice quieter, almost hesitant. “But I think you should, uh, just go ahead and try. If you’re brave enough.”

The challenge was clear, but the undercurrent of something else, the vulnerability, the trust, was equally clear in her eyes. It was a moment that hung in the air, suspended between them, heavy with possibility.

Your heart thudded in your chest, but instead of retreating, you took a deep breath and closed the remaining distance between you two, your hand gently cupping Kyujin’s cheek. The kiss was slow at first, tentative, like you were both testing the waters. It wasn’t a movie moment, it wasn’t dramatic, no stolen kisses during a high-speed chase or danger-filled mission, but it felt real. It was raw and honest, something that neither of you two had fully expected, but both seemed to need.

When you finally pulled away, the silence between the two of you felt different, more peaceful, as if something had shifted. Your gaze softened, her fingers still resting gently against Kyujin’s skin. “You know we can't do this…" Kyujin said

"Worth a try." You said

Kyujin's eyes flickered, uncertainty dancing in them as she looked at you, her breath still unsteady from the kiss. "Yeah," she murmured, almost to herself, "Worth a try."

You smiled, but it was softer now, quieter, as if the teasing mask had finally slipped away. "I don’t know what it is between us," you admitted, your voice quieter, tinged with a raw honesty that was rare for you. "But whatever it is… it’s different."

Kyujin nodded slowly, her gaze not leaving your face. "Yeah, it’s… complicated."

"Complicated is an understatement," You said with a soft chuckle, though your voice held a hint of frustration, as if you were trying to make sense of the whirlwind of emotions inside you. "But I think… maybe it’s worth figuring out. If you’re willing to."

Kyujin’s gaze softened, the edges of her usual guarded nature slipping away. "I don’t know what I’m doing half the time, Y/n," she confessed, her voice a little more vulnerable than usual. "But I know I don’t want to walk away from this… whatever this is."

Your heart skipped a beat at her words, and for the first time in a long time, you felt like maybe she wasn’t the only one who was scared of the unknown. "Neither do I," you whispered back, your voice barely audible.

For a moment, neither of you said anything, just letting the quiet settle around the two of you. It wasn’t perfect, and it wasn’t easy, but in that silence, you both understood something unspoken.

Kyujin finally broke the quiet, her voice soft but steady. "We’re both messes, you know that?"

You grinned, your eyes twinkling with that familiar mischief. "Yeah, but we’re each other’s mess."

Kyujin rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "I don’t know if that’s comforting or terrifying."

You leaned in again, this time a little more confidently, your fingers gently brushing Kyujin’s. "Maybe both."

Kyujin’s smile deepened, and she let out a soft laugh, her hand brushing against yours in return. "Yeah, I think you’re right."

You both stood there for a moment, caught in the quiet space you had carved out for yourselves, knowing that things wouldn’t be easy and that your path ahead was far from clear. But for the first time, neither of you felt like you had to figure it all out alone. And for the first time, that mess didn’t seem so bad.

[writersrkive]

hi!! i just read your spencer fic about telling him not to shut up. i specifically loved the fact that the reader’s first language isn’t english, i feel like the majority of the fandom doesn’t have english as their first language.

could you write something where the reader’s first language isn’t english and they’re having trouble with their paperwork because people tend to use a lot of difficult words, and spencer notices it and helps them out? maybe reader often stays late to finish working because they need to read sentences multiple times to fully understand them?

if you don’t feel like writing this feel free to skip or write anything else <3

(it’s getting late for me here but i look forward to reading more of your work when i come back from work tomorrow :)

have a good day!!

A little help never hurts | Spencer Reid

summary: Paperwork days are hell, especially for you, since English isn't your first language. You don't say anything to any of your coworkers because you're afraid they will see you as incapable of doing your work, but one genius boy might have been looking at you a lot and definitely notices something is wrong. He is determined to help you. An extra help never hurts, right?

genre: fluff, comfort

pairing: early seasons!Spencer Reid x bau!reader

warnings: English isn't reader's first language, mention of reader being from another country (I think that's all, but let me know!)

a/n: Omg, my second request! I loved the idea, thanks! I hope you like it rebel-ezra (does this notify you when I answer your inbox or do I have to tag people when it's not anon? lol, sorry). I'm excited to see how much you enjoy this one, and I'm sorry if it's not as good as you expected. English isn't my first language, please be kind <3.

Happy New Year, reader! I hope you can get distracted a little with this fic if, if you need to. You did it! Next year we have more people, places and things to know, hugs!

important: Are you guys interested in being in a Criminal Mind's tag list for my fics? If that's the case, let me know in the comments, please. I might be doing one if there's enough people.

Masterlist Spanish ver. On Wattpad (coming soon)

The feeling of pressure on your head and the emptiness of your stomach has stressed you since a few hours ago. You didn't have anything to eat since the doughnut and cup of coffee that García offered you in the morning when she arrived. But you weren't close to going home.

Paperwork was always a pain in the ass, but especially for the poor newest member of the BAU. Why is that? Well, your mother language wasn't English, and of course you had a good level —otherwise you wouldn't have the opportunity to study and work in the U.S.A.—, but the documents were too formal and technical given the seriousness of the issues being discussed.

“Shit.” You whispered, typing a new confusing and complicated word on your computer for the third time in an hour.

“Hey, do you want to go to my place after work? Tonight seems like a free night, if duty doesn't call.” Emily had approached you with a warm smile, knowing that paperwork was never easy.

“Thanks, Em. But I think tonight I'm going home to rest. It's been a long week.” But you gave that answer because at that point, it was routine to stay way later than your workmates.

Spencer was coming back from the bathroom, ready to take his stuff and go home. It was really late, so he thought he was the only one besides Hotch in the office. However, he saw you at your desk: your head resting on a dictionary, the computer next to you and several post-it notes stuck in the drawers of your desk.

He called your name twice, but of course the sleep you were immersed in did not allow you to hear it. Footsteps were heard in the darkness. There were just a few desk lamps on, that's why he was able to see your peaceful expression. He touched your shoulder slightly and when you opened your eyes, all you saw was a shy smile.

“Reid, what's wrong?” You asked, feeling your head throbbing.

“Are you okay? You fell asleep.” He whispered.

“Oh… Yeah… I'm okay.”

“Are you sure? You seem pretty tired. It's late so maybe you should go home”

“Don't worry. I have work to get done anyway.” You sighed, remembering how you still had to review a quarter of documents.

“What? But you have been working on this for hours.”

His comment made you blush. Of course you haven't told anyone how hard it was to review every document twice or even thrice to be sure that you didn't misunderstand or mistranslate anything. Somehow you felt that if anyone knew they would criticize or mock you. Not that you thought about your coworkers being mean, but through your journey of learning another language and moving from your country, you met all kinds of people. Also, you didn't want to be seen as weak or incapable of doing your job.

“Today was just a lot, that's all.”

“You usually work quickly, though I think I know what's going on. You keep a dictionary on your desk and usually carry a pocket version in your backpack, the days when you leave work late are paperwork days and you usually close the translator tab on your computer as soon as someone approaches your desk.” He explained looking around your stuff as if he was analyzing everything. “Is it about the language?”

“Yes, yes it is, okay? There, I said it!” Your frustrated tone made Spencer realise how tired you were about the situation. You didn't even try to deny it, you just hid your face around your arms, leaning on your desk —as if you were recreating the position he found you asleep previously—.

“Hey, but what's wrong with that?” He asked softly.

“What do you mean ‘what's wrong with that'? I'm supposed to understand everything that is on the documents, but I become slower because I have to verify and translate information that I don't understand because it is a more technical language.” The words were audible enough to him even though your face was still hidden.

“Do you realize English isn't your first language, right?” He tried to get you to look at him, but it didn't work. “Everyone in this work has difficulties when it comes to other languages. You don't have to feel bad because it's happening to you.”

“Does it happen to you?” Your shy eyes met his.

“Not really.” He answered with a hint of a cocky smile.

“See?”

“Well, I didn't say anything about me, you were the one who asked. Besides, I'm trying to be more sociable.” His comment made you chuckle slightly, but that chuckle became a laugh when you repeated what he said in your mind. “You are really funny, do you know that?”

“A-Am I?” The way you were looking at him, with a tired, yet cute, expression and a little smile, made his heart skip a beat.

“Yeah…”

“Well, I can also be of great help at work. Let me help you with the files.”

“It's not necessary.”

“It is. You need to rest, so let me get started while you go to the machine for something to eat. A little help never hurts.” He whispered, already taking the documents.

“Fine.”

A few minutes later you returned with an open package of cookies. You stopped for a moment, admiring the furrowed eyebrows of the genius boy who was reading the files with a lot of attention. Then you realized how fortunate you were for having coworkers like him. Or maybe was he himself the one who was so amazing that you would never get tired of working with him.

“Agent. Can I talk with you for a second?” Hotch's voice welcomed you the next morning.

Spencer's view followed your figure to the boss’ office and that didn't go unnoticed by his best friend.

“Pretty boy had fun yesterday?” Derek teased.

“What?”

“You know… Penelope said that last night Hotch wasn't the only one who left work late. You and our new colleague had a date at work?” His strong arm embraced the other's shoulders.

“N-No! I thought we were the only ones… No! Nothing happened!” Spencer struggled to say.

“Reid, can we talk?” Your voice made him turn around. He just hoped you weren't angry.

“What is it? Is everything alright?” He asked when both of you walked into an empty hallway.

“Actually, yes. Apparently Hotch received a request from the team's genius profiler to work with me on my paperwork days. So, you are having trouble concentrating on the files because of some headaches and need someone to work with?” As you spoke your tone of voice slowly reflected, with a mocking tone, that you knew perfectly well why Spencer had spoken to Hotch.

“Am… Yeah. Headaches are the worst.” He whispered looking to the floor.

“Thanks, Spence.” You said with sincere gratitude. Spencer looked at you again and felt a weight lift off his shoulders when he realized that you weren't mad at him.

“Sure. Whatever you need, I'm here for you… as coworkers, of course!” His voice got a little higher when he clarified immediately.

You were about to walk past him to return with the others, but then he spoke again. “Do you think maybe we can go and have coffee on a free day? I mean, I can help you with the words that are difficult for you. And, actually, I was thinking that I might need help with your language too. We can help each other, you know?” He gulped.

“Sure. A little help never hurts.” You smiled and walked away hiding a smile while Spencer was left alone, standing in the middle of the hallway, unable to believe that he had just asked you out. “Hotch is gonna kill me if he finds out…”

[elleluvsjurin]

School Rules

requested

synopsis: you’re the bitter ex who loves starting shit with the class president and vice president, one of them happening to be your ex gf. after a while, they put an end to your shit once and for all

pairings: ryujin x fem reader x yeji

cw: smut, reader is a mean girl, cursing, made ryujin kinda mean but she’s mean for a reason, reader gets slut out; lmk if i missed anything

wc: 1.6k

tags: @her-utahimee

 It's been 3 months since Yeji has dumped you. Of course you were still pissed about the whole situation. Oh, and when you found that her and her best friend won for class president and vice president, it was going to be game over for those two…so you thought. At first, it was simple things like smoking cigarettes on school grounds. Then, it was crashing their planned events with your friends and now..the rumors. Of course you went and spread a rumor that they were sleeping together, it was the cherry on top of it all and EVERYONE was eating it up.

“yej.. get your fucking ex. I'm sick of her ass. Did you see what she posted online about us?” Ryujin frustratedly asks, slamming the classroom door. 

“Listen, i’m going to try and talk to her but her friends are doing stuff along with her-” Yeji starts

“-yeah, well y/n’s the fucking ring leader. And if you don’t get her shit straight then I WILL!” Ryujin interrupts Yeji in a fit of rage. Yeji massages her temples with her fingers because she knows that you won’t go down without a fight. She pulls her phone out and dials your number, of course you answer after a couple of rings.

“What could you possibly want Hwang Yeji?” you ask over the phone

“We need to talk, could you please come over after school?” she asks, quietly. You smirk over the phone before you reply.

“Talk about what?” you ask innocently and she mutes herself before putting you on speaker. “You caused this, Yeji, not me.” 

“God y/n, just come over.” Yeji spoke as Ryujin rolled her eyes in annoyance.

“‘Mmkay, only because it’s you. And tell that dog ass friend of yours not to come, she’s mean as fuck.” you add onto the convo. “You know where I live, I’ll see you later.” Yeji abruptly says before hanging up on you. 

“Ugh I hate that bitch.” Ryujin mutters whilst writing down a few plans for the student council.

“Don’t worry, she won’t be doing anything else after tonight.” Yeji adds and looks to Ryujin

“What are you thinking, Yej?” Ryujin asks, obviously confused.

“Could you put her in her place? I’m not good at that..as you can see.” Ryujin face contorts in confusion

“Why not? You dated her God awful ass for a year.” she asks 

“Damn Ryu, I was a bottom, alright. Read the room.” Yeji says embarrassingly and Ryujin laughs, knocking over the desk from how much she was laughing.

“Oh, makes sense.” Ryujin replied after her fit of laughter. “I’ll get her ass straight but you have to help out.” 

“Fine.” Yeji says quietly, packing her bags.

“Is y/n even here today, I haven’t seen her all day.” Ryujin asks Yeji, looking to her for an answer

“No, she’s posting things from her room.” Yeji replies 

“Hm. ok.” Ryujin mumbles. Both the girls walk out of the room and head to Yeji’s place, planning for an unforgettable night between the three girls.

You head over to Yeji's place near the school at around 4 pm. You anticipated staying for about 30 minutes but that changed as soon as she let you in. Upon walking in, you see Ryujin sitting on Yeji’s couch.

“What the hell is she doing here?” you question, your face twists in disgust and Ryujin smirks

“I should be asking you the same thing.” Ryujin replies. “I got invited, you fucking spawned here..uninvited.” you spit back at her.

“Enough, y/n!” Yeji shouts. “I’m so sick of your bullshit!” she continues to speak her mind and you sit down, as you’ve never heard her scream before.

“Yej, what the fuck are you talking about? I was just poking fun..chill.” you retaliate

“No. You’re screwing with our fucking campaign by being a bitch. You, your fucking friends, we’re sick of it. I’m sick of it.” Yeji finishes and you sit there, looking stunned.

“Fine, are you done now?” you ask, getting up to leave before Ryujin turns you around, pushing you up against the wall. “What the hell-” you start as she traps your body with both of her arms being on each side of your head, her hands pressing up against the wall beside you. “You think you can leave that easy, huh? We’re not done with your bitch ass just yet.” she whispers, sending chills down your spine.

“Y-yeji, help me.” you say, trying to push her away. Yeji looks at the way you struggle, not saying a word.

“You really think that she’s going to help your spoiled ass? Why do you think she invited you?” Ryujin asks as tears prick at your eyes

“Ryujin let me go!-” you try to shout out but Ryujin covers your mouth with her hand. Ryujin and Yeji both grab you, dragging you to Yeji’s room, locking the door behind them. Yeji pushes you onto the bed. 

“W-what are you going to do to me?” you cry out, your voice trembling. Ryujin comes over to you, wiping the tears off of your cheeks. “We’re not going to hurt you, if that’s what you think.” she whispers, kissing your cheek. “Such a pretty girl..terrible personality.” Ryujin continues, looking to Yeji. 

“Strip bitch.” Yeji says coldly, pulling out her phone to record you. “W-what?” you ask

“You heard me, I said strip. We’re teaching you a little lesson.” she replies. You start by taking off your shirt, then your pants, undergarments, eventually being naked in front of the two girls.

Ryujin leans forward next to you, pressing her lips up to yours. She tastes your salty tears as her hands travel up and down your body, exploring every crevice. Yeji watches the two of you interact, smirking behind the camera. 

“Are you ready Yej?” she asks and Yeji nods her head. Ryujin lays you down on the bed, forcing your legs open.

“P-please..” you mumble, Ryujin gets in between your legs, kissing your lips passionately before she gets off of you. “Shh, we’re not here to hurt you.” She says, taking the camera from Yeji. Before you can answer, Yeji shuts your mouth by kissing you. Her tongue hungrily explores the inside of your mouth, to the point where you can barely breathe. She pulls away, watching the way you try to catch your breath. Her hands rub up and down your slit, you’re embarrassingly wet.

“You’re pathetic..” Yeji starts, “..I love it.” she spits out, sticking one of her fingers into your pussy. She thrusts in and out, the two girls listen to the way your pussy takes your ex-girlfriend's finger, Yeji adds another one and you moan out. 

“A-ah! Please ..yej, more. Don’t stop!” you cry out, your juices leak all over her fingers as she thrusts her fingers in at a quick pace. Ryujin smiles behind the camera. “Fuck her good, Yej. I bet she’s close.” she says

Yeji curls her fingers inside of you, hitting every spot perfectly. “G-gonna cum!!” is all you say as your eyes roll to the back of your head, your whole body shakes as you orgasm all over her fingers. Yeji pulls her fingers out of your pussy, slowly sticking them in your mouth one by one. 

“Good girl.” she mumbles, watching you as you suck your own cum off of her long fingers. “Can I leave now, you got what you wanted.” you say

“Nope.” Ryujin simply says. “You can leave after you make me cum.” Yeji says

“What do you want me to do? I’m ready to go.” You say and Yeji pushes you back. 

“She’s gonna sit on your face.” Ryujin says flatly. Yeji lifts her skirt, pulling down her soaked panties from her ankles and hovers her cunt over your face. “Ready for me, hm y/n?” Yeji coos

“Let’s get this shit over with.” You say in annoyance. You grab her hips, sticking your tongue out so her cunt can fall right on your tongue. Yeji rocks her hips back and forth on your tongue, throwing her head back. “F-fuck I forgot how good her tongue game was Ryu.” she moans out. Ryujin turns the camera off and walks over to Yeji, grabbing her throat and kissing her lips. Ryujin grabs Yeji’s hips, moving her back and forth. “A-ah y/n..feels so good.” she moans as Ryujin continues to move her hips, between that and your tongue..has her going crazy. 

You hurriedly thrust your tongue in and out of her pussy at a fast pace. You feel Yeji touching all over your breasts while you tongue fuck her. You continue to thrust inside of her, you feel her legs tremble over your face before she shouts. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck..’m gonna cum!” she cries out as she cums all over tongue. Yeji gets off of you and dusts herself off. 

“You can leave now, Ryujin will let you out.” Yeji says, you scramble to throw your clothes on. 

“Pull some shit again y/n and I’ll release that pathetic video of you.” Yeji says

“Fine, I'll stop.” you say, throwing the rest of your clothes on and you follow Ryujin to the front door. You turn around to walk out and Ryujin grabs you, making you turn around to face her.

“What do you want, Ryujin?” you ask, she looks you up and down.“Stop patronizing our campaign. Do it again and I’ll beat your ass after I fuck the shit out of you, got it?” Ryujin says, sternly. “O-ok, I get it. I won’t do it again.” you say “Good. Now scram!” She says as you hurriedly leave. Yeji stands in the hallway, watching Ryujin close the door. Ryujin turns around to see her best friend and she smiles, jokingly saying, “Thought you were a bottom?”

[cinnamontails-ff]

New Year Writing Tag

Happy New Year everyone!

I love this time of year for how it invites reflection and a general (re)assessment of where I am as a writer. I've seen a few "new year writing" tags floating around, but didn't love their focus on numbers, so I decided to make my own. Feel free to use the template if you're interested, leave stuff out, etc!

What's been your biggest learning point this past year?

Readers are fickle, and winning yourself an audience is not the same as maintaining it. Still, there will always be people who love your work, exactly the way it is.

How has your writing developed this past year?

I think my grasp on the English language has definitely improved! I find I'm more comfortable with varying my sentence structure, and the fact that I'm finally getting the hang of punctuation also definitely helps haha That said, I've been leaning into my overwriting tendencies. MA was supposed to be 150k words and now it's gonna clock in at nearly 200k. And that's ok because it was a difficult project and I'm proud of myself for pulling through, but I definitely need to rein myself in, moving forward.

Good writing habits?

Finally installing automatic backups through my writing software! Also, investing in a nice keyboard for the first time in my life. Life-changing.

Bad writing habits?

Pushing too hard rather than taking a break because my general modus operandi in life is "Work hard now, so you can relax later" - except, I never let myself get to the "later" part.

Favorite thing you wrote?

Chapter 20 of "Magistrate's Advocate". If you know, you know, but it was a very unusual, very challenging chapter for me, and I love how it came out.

Favorite reads?

"A Sorceress Comes to Call" by T. Kingfisher

"Yellowface" by R.F. Kuang

And my re-reads of "Guards, Guards" and "Small Gods" by Terry Pratchett, but what else is new :D

Biggest win?

Making friends through writing. Connecting with people in a way that goes so much further than storytelling. Getting to go to the wedding of someone I met through fandom (and then try to explain to the other guests how you met :D). Sitting on a riverbank in a European city with a lovely reader for 4h straight, receiving the most beautiful fountain pen as a gift. Really, everyone who's made me feel like they care about me just as much as they care my stories ❤

Goals for the new year?

Finish the translation of my original novel.

Stop beating myself up over the things I have not achieved.

Forget AO3 statistics exist.

Shamelessly re-read my own fics over and over again.

Your favorite words of the year, aka the words you check each chapter for, making sure you didn't repeat them 788 times?

"little", "gaze", "look", "smile", "quite", "absolutely", anything to do with "shoulders", "hands" and "eyes".

Seriously, what is it with me and shoulders?

What are you excited for in the new year?

I've just recently started a writing group with a handful of lovely people I met through fandom, and I am extremely excited for it! It's hard to find a group of like-minded people, and while I love the focus on positivity in fandom, I really miss being told where my writing still needs work :D

No-pressure tags (and feel free to pick and choose your favorite questions!): @davenswitcher @obsessedwhyyes @larvasmoon @wobblyweasels @roguishcat @amoremagnificentbastard @lady-vincent @ladyduellist @canon-in-too-deep @khywren @karinamay @bananaiguana and everyone else who loves their new year's reflections!