#it is taking so long to write the one week later sequel

[mswendla]

"Some time after Operation Mincemeat, Monty wants to see if Charles actually knows how to tango."

While I'm still working on something bigger, here's a small and sweet fic about Montlie dancing ❤️

[vividxpages]

✩‧˚౨ৎ˚✩₊ The Great War PART 2₊✩‧˚౨ৎ˚✩‧

PART 1 + PART 3

pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x fem!Reader

words: 2800

summary: after meeting Jace by the shore of the sea in secret, the Blacks do everything to reunite the two of you. But will you make it to him safely? And how much are you both willing to risk for each other?

warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, arguments and tears, kissing, happy ending

a/n: Part 1 has gotten such love, I needed to write a little sequel. Hope you like it <3

𓆩♡𓆪

Always remember Uh-huh, tears on the letter I vowed not to cry anymore If we survived the Great War

It was like every cell of your being was fueled with fire when you returned to King’s Landing much later that night. Vignettes of the beach and Jace were replaying themselves in your mind, making you walk towards your chambers as if in a trance.

You had seen him again.

You had kissed him goodbye as if it was your last time, although he had whispered promises into your ear that it wouldn’t be. Be alert, stay safe, he had said to you between those last breathless kisses. Mother and I will figure out something.

You smiled to yourself, feeling as if the world suddenly looked just a little brighter, although the corridor in front of you was only lit by torches on the wall.

If had been any more concentrated, you would’ve seen him first.

A shadow slipped from the darkness and before you could scream out or even blink, your older brother had pushed you against the hard stone wall, caging you in and scanning your face with his one remaining eye.

“Taking a walk at midnight, sister?” Aemond rasped out and you wanted to squirm away from him, the sudden unpleasant encounter washing all those happy moments from before away. As you tried to slip past him, he caught your wrist so hard, it hurt.

“Let go of me, Aemond.” You gritted your teeth, struggling against his much stronger hold of you.

“What would mother say if she heard you were without a chaperone, hm?” He challenged you, a cruel smile on his face. “Or even worse…what will our great king say if he learns you’ve been with the enemy?”

Everything in you froze at his implication.

You stared at him with wide eyes, heavily breathing. “I have no idea what you are talking about.” You finally ripped your hand free and resisted the urge to caress the burn in your wrist. This would come later, in the safety of your chambers.

Suddenly, you became painfully aware of how you looked. The disheveled hair, rosy cheeks from the cold by the sea, plump lips bruised from kissing… At least, Jace had been careful enough not to leave purple blue flowers on your neck.

Aemond regarded you with an unreadable expression, crossing his hands behind his back. “I’m not saying anything, since you surely are reminded your place and have not crossed paths with our enemies, am I right, dear sister? But if I catch you riding your dragon to where Vhagar can’t have an eye on you, I’ll shoot you out of the sky myself.”

You stared at each other for a very long time. You hated how mute you were always becoming in your brother’s presence, how powerless they both made you feel, like every bravery Jacaerys had breathed into you had suddenly vanished. A flame blown out by ice cold wind.

“Sleep well.” Aemond whispered before he walked away from you.

With each of his leaving steps, you could breathe a little more freely.

ㅤ♡☁︎⋆｡˚

The following weeks only continued to darken the clouds on your horizon.

A concerning new routine found its way into your days, sleeping in late and staying in bed as you watched the grey sky outside your window. Food you only accepted when you really needed to and although your mother gave you concerning and sometimes scolding looks, no one really cared about how you spent your meaningless days.

You had not attended council and you didn’t believe Aegon was going to let you again any time soon. Helaena sometimes visited you, but she spoke in riddles and could not comfort you. The only person who could haunted your dreams and was miles and miles away, across the Blackwater Bay and out of reach.

Jace had told you to be patient and alert, but it was getting harder to get out of bed every day.

“An afternoon refreshment, my princess.”

You looked away from your window, just as the servant turned away from you and left the room. On the table near your bed, a plate of small cakes and fruit waited for you and in the middle of it, was a small roll of parchment.

You furrowed your brows. No one in the castle sent messages to you.

You slowly unrolled it, your eyes reading over the words written, but not quite understanding them yet.

Tomorrow night. We’ll stage a distraction. North gate. We’ll meet you over the Gullet.

Your head snapped up and hope filled your chest once more.

♡☁︎⋆｡˚

You squinted your eyes once more as you looked over your shoulder, the massive fire at the feet of the Red Keep painting the night red. The Blacks had outdone themselves; every eye of the city was looking towards the destruction the flames caused.

How poetic. You were leaving your home behind unseen, unheard, while it burned.

You focused on the way ahead of you, the dark sea underneath you and your dragon sparkling underneath the moonlight. You concentrated on the rhythmical wing swing and the prospect of arriving at Dragonstone soon, once again reunited with Jacaerys. Forever this time.

You were not coming back. The next time you’d face your family, you would stand on the other side of this war. And you were ready for it.

But so was Aemond.

A giant beast suddenly busted through the clouds beneath you, your scream being swallowed by Vhagar’s roar as Aemond stirred her towards you. You threw yourself to the right, barely slipping past her giant maw as it snapped shut only inches away from your dragon’s wing.

You heard Aemond screaming your name in fury.

“Naejot!“ You screamed, urging your dragon on to go faster, impossibly faster than the beast chasing you. Your heart was pounding all the way up into your throat as you heard Vhagar roaring behind you. One command from Aemond and you’d fall into the ocean like a burned star. You silently prayed the Gullet was almost under you, praying for just another day, just one more-

“Dracarys!”

You braced yourself, thinking of the dark eyes you had loved so much one more time.

But the dragon fire did not come.

Not for you, at least.

♡☁︎⋆｡˚

You still had no idea how Rhaenys had reached you in time or why Aemond had decided to flee then.

Perhaps, you were not worth the fight.

You would’ve never thought to be so thankful at such an idea.

You barely had the time to thank Rhaenys before you had been led through the darkness around Dragonstone, still needing to stay invisible until you had reached the safety inside those walls.

And once you reached them, Jacaerys was there, pulling you tightly against his chest and holding you as if you could simply vanish with the wind every second. You had allowed him to look you over, still shaken and with your mind still on this disastrous flight before he had led you to the hall where his parents had been anxiously waiting.

When you had sat down and his hand had slipped out of yours, you already wanted it back.

But first, they needed to know what had happened out there.

You still couldn’t believe your brother had really wanted to kill you.

After you had finished, Daemon sympathetically pushed over his goblet with wine and you gratefully took it and resisted the urge to chug it back in one gulp.

“How could this have happened?” Jace had been thundering for a while now, walking up and down the room, tense and still out of his mind with worry for you. “Our sources have told us Vhagar has been away from King’s Landing earlier today.”

It seemed like not even the queen had an answer for it.

But you had. You sat up a little straighter, biting your lip before you looked into the flames next to you and spoke. “Aemond has been getting suspicious. He knew of our meeting by the sea and…he had warned me not to pursue it again.”

Rhaenyra and Daemon looked at you with surprise, but Jace was a whole different story.

“What?” He looked at you with wild disbelief. “So you are telling me you’ve went out tonight even though you knew Aemond could’ve caught you and done what not to you?”

“What do you think I should’ve done instead?” You asked him quietly, barely a whisper.

He fixed you with a wide-eyed stare, his fingers trembling as he raked them through his curls. “Perhaps not shown up to our invitation if you knew Aemond was suspicious?” He suggested shakingly. “We would’ve found another way without risking your life.”

“There is no other way, Jace!” You shot back, just as hot-headed as he was now. Rhaenyra and Daemon shared a look over the table, perhaps thinking of their own heated discussions in the past. You drew the blanket you had been given tighter around yourself, taming your tongue. “I would’ve died in that castle, one way or another. I might as well could’ve tried to reach you before my end.”

“Do not talk of such things.” Jace whispered, shaking his head. You saw his brown eyes getting teary at the mere thought of it. “Do not-“

“It doesn’t matter now-“

“It matters to me!” He exploded and you leaned back, shocked at his sudden outburst.

“Alright, that’s enough.” Rhaenyra said calmly, jaw tense. “I think this night has been eventful enough for the two of you. We will deal with everything in the morning, but now I believe you should retire. Jace’s room has been readied for the two of you. We are glad to have you with us here, my dear, we truly are.”

The tension could’ve been cut with a knife as you walked back to Jacaerys’ room.

You had started to shiver, the wet strands of your hair clinging to your neck, clothes ruined and dirty by the stormy weather between the clouds. When the door closed behind you and you took off the blanket, you hissed with pain.

“What is it?” Jace looked at you, alarmed. “Are you hurt?”

You shook your head. “Not really, but…I think when I took a turn in the sky, one of the reigns came loose and cut me.” It would explain the burning pain in your shoulder. When you tried to raise your arm to take a look, a sudden whimper tore through you.

Jace was in front of you in an instant, steadying you as he intently looked at your face. “Don’t move too much. I’ll take a look at it, okay?”

“It’s fine…” You did not feel fine.

“Let me help.” Jace said, adding in a whisper: “Please.”

It was quiet once again between you as he slowly led you to the edge of his bed. It would’ve been romantic if you hadn’t been such a mess, but Jacaerys did not seem to care about your appearance. He walked around his room with a mission, collecting a warm washcloth from the basin and a bandage, just in case.

You watched him silently as he went on his knee in front of you and slowly started to peel away your rider’s jacket from your shoulder. You breathed through your teeth as the fabric came away bloody, the burn of the rope worse than you had expected. Now, with the adrenaline leaving your body, the pain came knocking at your door.

Jace grimaced at your pain, intertwining your hand with one of his own as the other gently began to dab at the cut, making you wince with every little motion. “Sorry.” He mumbled, his thumb brushing soothingly over your palm. “It looks like the bleeding has stopped some time ago. That’s good.”

You nodded, still mute and exhausted as you let him take care of you. You almost wanted to sink back into his sheets and simply disappear in them.

“I’m sorry for losing my temper like this.” He said quietly after a while as he wrung out the cloth into the small basin to his feet. “I should’ve stayed composed, especially after the night you had. You are braver than all of us, ñuha jorrāeliarzy. I just- I could never forgive myself if something happened to you. We were thoughtless with this idea and impulsive and-“

“And I am glad of it.” You interrupted him softly. You argued with yourself if you should tell him how you had slowly rotted away in King’s Landing, withering without his light and the love his family embraced you with.

“You’ve gotten hurt.” He interjected gravely.

“Which wasn’t your fault.”

“But-“

You raised a hand, wanting to cup his cheek, but quickly stopped when it burned.

Jace was still kneeling in front of you, taking your hand in his and bringing it to his lips so he could softly kiss your knuckles. You could almost smell how worried he was about you, how he was still battling with himself, making himself think this was his fault. He brushed back a lost curl from your face and smiled sadly. “I forget myself. You’ve had a long journey. I do not want you to suffer even more, I’ll go fetch a Maester.”

“It’s only a scratch.” You joked tiredly, which earned you a doubting look. “Please, Jace. I’ll be fine until morning. I just need you. I’ve longed to be with you like this again for so long.”

“I’ve missed you too.” He said hoarsely, slowly rising to his feet, adoration burning in his eyes. “I could barely stay calm all day. Perhaps I’ve dreamed up that you’re here now.  If so, I never want to wake up again.”

You smiled at him, a real smile this time. “Then I’ll be dreaming with you, Jace.”

And finally, you could see a smile on his face too. “I will get some clothes for you.”

Quietness came down on the room once more, the comfortable kind this time.

You watched from the bed as Jace rummaged through his closet and pulled out one of his longer tunics, all warm cotton and his scent coating it. He helped you with your shoes, insisting that you should not move a finger anymore tonight. He lovingly kissed your ankles and took the most care that you wouldn’t have to lift your injured arm too much as he slid the piece of clothing over your form.

“There.” He looked at you warmly as you shuffled back into the sheets. “Gods, I have missed seeing you in my clothes. My bed.”

The words sent a shiver down your spine, although you knew you did not have the strength anymore to do exactly what you wanted to do with him. Your muscles were sore and your bandaged shoulder only good for one night, but you knew Jace was going to wait a lifetime for you if he had to.

Perhaps a whole lifetime laid ahead for the two of you now.

You nestled yourself against his chest as he slipped beneath the covers with you, sighing happily as your head fit perfectly into the place where his neck met his strong shoulder. A dark curl was tickling your forehead and as he closed his arms around you, one leg shifting to fit between your thigh, you knew you were home.

You listened to the sound of him breathing, your bruised hearts slowly calming down until you were sure they were beating in sync. Only a few candles by the bed lit the room and you felt yourself slowly drift into a well-deserved sleep.

But there was one thing still tormenting your love’s mind.

“It’s just…” Jacaerys whispered into the darkness of his room. You could feel him swallow tightly, his fingers trying to calm himself by caressing your spine. “Tonight made me think of Luke. And knowing you’ve been up there, with Vhagar so close to you- I can’t lose you, my love. I can’t.”

You shuffled until you could look at him, chest aching at the unshed tears in his beautiful eyes.

“You won’t lose me.” You promised him, wiping away his tears. “You will never lose me, Jace, I promise you. I’m here now and I’m not going anywhere, okay?”

He sniffled, but nodded fiercely. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” You whispered and lifted his chin so you could kiss him.

The kiss by the beach had grown into a wildfire, untamed and fueled by the desperation of wanting each other for so long. This one made you dizzy for a different reason.

There was a final calmness to it as your lips softly moved against each other, tasting every second like the world only slowed down for you. It was slow and relishing, like the first breath of fresh air after a lifetime of holding your breath. Your nose brushed against his as your hand found its way into his curls and if your shoulder had been any healthier, he would’ve hoisted you into his lap.

But unlike the other times you had come together, you had all the time in the world now.

And tomorrow, the sun would rise and shine just a little brighter, because you had finally found each other.

-------------------

(I'm writing a third and final part 3, so let me know if anyone would like to be tagged when I post it 🥰🎀)

[calumfmu]

PLEASEEEE can we get a sequel to steddie fighting over reader ?? maybe they get together to confront reader and realise they could have a lot more fun if they work together ;))

I've been working on it babe and here it is !! Hope you enjoyed it as much as I had fun writing it. I love this dynamic I have going on, and I hope to continue it. So send me some requests regarding these three, and I'll deliver <3 (also Jesus Christ it’s a long one: 4.2k+ words) Steddie x reader who is playing them both (part two to this) cw: smut, smut, smut, threesome, swearing, 18+, mdni, angst, eating out reader, mentions of Steddie relationship? situationship? idk man, blowjob, unprotected sex, eiffel tower (let’s gooo), fingering, facial, creampie,

The last few weeks have been hell for you. Or heaven, if you could call it that. Both boys yearning for your attention, spending as much time as they could in your presence, one dropping you off only to be picked up an hour later by the other. Constant touches and moments shared in a secret rendezvous between the two of them. The interchanged teenage boy libido was wearing you out day by day, nothing like you had experienced before.

Steve lay beside you, panting as his chest was exposed to the night air, chest hair wet with sweat that dripped down the muscle. He passed his discarded shirt to you for you to wipe down the evidence of the events that just occurred. You were stretched out across the scrappy picnic blanket that lay in the dirt, lake water trickling behind you.

"So, I was thinking..." He began, pulling his shirt over his head. You eyed it, not recognizing the pattern printed on the front. It did look familiar, but nothing of the sort that seemed to be in the boys closet.

"Oh God." You teased, eyes widening at his words. He lightly slapped your arm, rolling his eyes at your comment before buttoning up his jeans.

"Seriously, I was thinking maybe we could, uhh... spend the night together?" He cleared his throat as you got dressed, speeding up your movements as you searched the lake bank for anyone who might pass by. It was uncommon this time of night, but something you should be wary of as Lover's Lake seemed to be a damn near tourist destination these days.

You shot him a look, crinkling your brow. "Tonight?"

He nodded, "Yeah... we finally got that Molly Ringwald movie you wanted to see. I snagged it before we could shelf it, but it's gotta be returned before Keith notices."

You pursed your lips together, toying with the hem of your sock as you refused to meet his eyes. He continued his words, flipping over his stomach to lean closer to you.

"I was thinking me, you, the movie. I could make you my world-famous dish that I've only made for... myself, but hey... I could use a critic. Then in the morning, we could take a trip out of town to--"

"Steve," you gently said, touching his arm as you finally met his eyes. His expression immediately soured, eyes darting away from you. "I can't tonight. Maybe t--"

"Tomorrow? Next week even? " He rushed, irritation filling his words as he sat up suddenly. He began gathering the items that lay around you, tossing your shoe in your general direction.

You were shocked, faltering in your movements as you took him in. This wasn't what you were used to, this wasn't the Steve that had stolen your heart in the past few months.

"Woah, what's up?"

Your voice was shaky as he pulled you to your feet, balling up the blanket that you once lied on. He threw it into his trunk, not bothering to shake the dirt off of it. His once pristine trunk was littered with brown, speckles of Earth settling into the carpeted crevice. Your shoe was half way on, heel sticking out as he rounded the side of the vehicle to the driver's seat.

"What's up?" He repeated to you, venom dripping out of his words. The car clicked as he unlocked it, you sliding into the passenger as he began to start it up. His movements were so fast you could barely keep up with them. "You seriously want to know what's up?"

He fumbled with the keys in the ignition, turning the key over and over before you placed a hand on his wrist, halting the repetition.

"Steve."

His chest immediately fell with a deep exhale, his fingers loosening before he turned his head to you. His brown eyes met yours, wide and filled with an emotion you couldn't quite touch on.

"Steve." His name on your mouth felt like a plea for help, wondering what happened to the Harrington boy that you were so used to.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, bringing his hands to his face as his head fell against the head rest. He ran them through his hair. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

"I just..." Chewing at your bottom lip, you didn't know how to start your next words. "I have plans with Eddie..."

His eyes rolled shut, hands falling to his side before he opened them to look at you. Silence filled the air accompanied by the nervous tap of your foot against the floor of the car.

"Yeah, I know." His whisper felt like a bullet, punching you through your chest, bleeding into your veins.

"You know?"

He laughed, a bitter sound making your skin crawl. "How could I not?"

"I'm sorry, I—"

"It's fine," he ended his words with your name, a sound you normally would love to hear coming from his mouth. In this moment, it sounded like a curse. "I—I just knew. Just like Robin said, you're terrible at it. Playing dumb."

Your mouth sputtered open, losing all words that could even begin to make an excuse.

"You go to his house when you're done over here. Days with me. Nights with him. I know the whole thing," he continued, counting on his fingers with every point he made. You nodded, agreeing with him as it was the only thing you could do in that moment.

"Are—are you mad at me?"

You felt like a little girl at this moment, getting chastised by your father even if the comparison was inappropriate. The only answer you got was Steve starting his car, putting it in reverse as he made his way to your house to drop you off.

The two of you sat in silence for the ride, your heart hanging heavy as he drove, Steve filled with an emotion you couldn't quite pinpoint—anger? Rage? Disdain? You weren't sure, whatever it was, he kept it to himself.

He pulled up to your place, lips pressed together as a goodbye as you turned to look at him before getting out. The door sat open, your leg half way out as you started him down, his gaze focused on the way his fingers gripped the steering wheel.

"I guess I'll see you tomorrow, then?" You tried, smiling hopefully in his direction. He nodded, not yet meeting your eyes.

"Yeah, see you at 10."

Your face dropped, the mention of your shared shift starting having all hopes crushed. You were hoping he had mentioned something other than the start of the shift, that he was going to talk about taking you out, but you knew that ship had sailed. Whatever you had going on between the two of you—it was ruined.

Your exit was silent as you fled, shutting the door softly behind you before making it up your walk way. Tears stung at your eyes as you fought the emotion. It wasn't supposed to be this way.

Your distraction was found in the sheets of Eddie's bed, the older man on top of you, half dressed as he kissed you. Steve lingered in the back of your mind, not dared spoken to him as you didn't want a repeat of the scenario that had occurred.

Eddie's kisses were soft, different than he normally did. He normally was fast, rough, strict black compared to Steve's white. Shaking your head, you placed a hand at the back of his head, pulling him further into you. He moaned into the touch, rutting his hips into yours as his hand pulled at the bra strap at your shoulder.

"Needy babe," he whispered to you in between kisses, pulling away to place his mouth under your ear. Your head crooked to the side, arching into him as the heat of his body overwhelmed any rational thought.

"Eddie—" You began, moaning at his touch. His fingers lowered the strap, dancing into the cup of your bra to grasp at your boob. Goosebumps chilled your body, prickling at the surface of your skin. "I need you."

"You need me, baby?"

The rasp in his voice had you falling apart under his touch, head pressed back into the mattress as bliss flooded your brain.

"I need you."

He hummed in response, trailing his mouth down the expanse of your neck. As his lips found your collarbones, you spread your legs even wider, your hands running down his sides. His tattooed skin felt like silk underneath your grasp, warmth shared in the touch.

"Is this okay?" You looked down to see him pressing kisses to your stomach, trailing lower and lower as gasps fled your mouth. His hands found the hem of your panties, pulling them down slightly as he buried his head between your thighs. The touch of his tongue on you had you gasping for more, fingers tangled in the sheets as he started his touches of pleasure.

He started out fast, tongue toying at your clit as your underwear was pulled down, still resting at your thighs, not yet free. Heat pooled between your legs, wetness dripping out of you. You loved the way he touched you, the way he kissed you.

"Fuck, Eddie—"

He hummed against you, tongue dipping into your hole as he pulled your underwear down further to gain access. Your legs were a bit more free of restriction, thighs pulling at the stretch of fabric.

"I need-" You began, shouting out at the brush of his thumb against your heat. He began to massage you, small circles rubbed against you.

"Need me more than Stevie?"

Your heart lurched at the name, not quite sure if you heard it correctly. Placing a hand at his head, you pushed him off of you, sitting up at your elbows to look at him. He was smug as the cold air hit you, your legs closing at the exposure.

"Wh-what did you say?"

A smirk played on his mouth, his fingers returning to your hips as he pulled you down the mattress closer to him. He leaned into his previous perch, pressing a kiss to your pubic bone. You didn't react, brows furrowed as you stared him down. He shushed you, returning his mouth to your wet cunt as he continued his pleasure to you. Your head fell against the mattress, eyes fluttering shut once again.

As his tongue worked you, his comment lingered, questions filling your senses. Did he say what he did? Or was your mind playing tricks, still caught up on the interaction earlier? A whine escaped you as a finger slipped partly inside of you, digit stretching you open with his tongue.

"Bet little Steve could never have you like this."

You heard it clear this time, your hands pushing him completely off of you before you sat upright, clawing at your underwear to be pulled up your hips.

"What the fuck was that, Eddie?"

It was your turn to be mad, the venom that lingered in Steve's words transferring to your own. Eddie's smug look only angered you more, features serious as his own were teasing.

"Just stating the obvious," he shrugged, leaning on one hand as the other reached down to adjust himself in his boxers. You briefly followed the movement, noticing how hard he was in his pants.

"What are you trying to get at?" You spat at him, already throwing on your clothes. Eddie watched you, eyebrows raised as you rushed it. You pushed off of the bed, searching for your shoe as the mess of his room was suddenly hitting you. "How do you live like this? It's so fucking messy in here."

He remained silent as you scrambled, flipping things over as you searched. That stupid smirk was ever present on his face, top teeth dug into his bottom lip.

"I don't know what you're talking about, and it shouldn't matter. Even if it is better," you continued, hopping on one foot as you located your sock. You struggled slipping it on, bra strap hanging off your shoulder, peeking out of your top. "In some ways, but not all, he is really good at that one thin—not like it matters. And not like I would even know."

He hummed in response, eyebrows raised as you knew he didn't believe a single thing you were saying. He found humour in the situation. It made you more mad.

"Anyways—I don't want to talk about Steve. I don't want to talk about it with you," you stomped your socked foot, height unbalanced as the platform of your one Mary-Jane stood in the carpet.

"Right," he nodded sarcastically, still seated on the bed as you made your fit. "Under the desk."

You crossed your arms over your chest, continuing your point, "I'm with you right now, it shouldn't matt—What?"

His finger pointed across his room, your eyes following it as you located your other shoe, sitting there on its side, under the small desk covered in figurines, music sheets. Grumbling, you crossed the room before slipping it on.

His laugh echoed through the room as you turned to face him again, pout on your lips. You hated when he was right.

"So... should I take you home now or do you want to continue your little temper tantrum?"

Your mouth dropped open at his words, leaning over at the waist towards him as he seemed so fucking smug. His laughter only deepened, his head shaking at your dramatization.

"I'm walking home."

He shook his head, standing off the bed as he grabbed his discarded jeans. The black denim slid over his legs as he hopped slightly, buttoning them up while staring you down.

"I'm taking you home, sweetheart, it's like midnight."

"No. I'm walking."

You stood firm, turning to throw open the door. You began to storm through the trailer, stomps shaking the pictures that stood on the walls. Wayne sat in the living area, cold beer in one hand, TV remote in the other. His eyes met the scene that entered, you storming through, arms crossed in front of you with Eddie high on your heels, van keys in hand.

"Babe—"

You swiveled around, halting both of your movements as you leaned closer to him.

"I. Am. Walking."

Wayne looked between the two of you, snorting under his breath as he watched his nephew stand in his place, you crossing the floor to the front door. Eddie didn't know what to do, mouth dropped open as you gave him the first bit of attitude he thought you had ever given. You pulled the door open, cold air breezing in. Turning to the middle aged man, you nodded your head in a greeting.

"Goodnight, Wayne," you smiled at him before turning to a scowl, head tilting in Eddie's direction. "Eddie."

The door swung shut behind you as you descended the small flight of steps. The trailer nearly shook as the metal made contact with the frame, loud into the night air.

Eddie stood there, gobsmacked as his keys dangled from his fingers. Wayne had his focused back on the television, some fishing show playing on the static of the box.

"Nice one, son." He muttered, shaking his head as he took a swig of the beer. "What'd you do now?"

"Uncle Wayne, please—"

Eddie's hands shook in the air before turning on his heel, returning to his room with a slam of his own door. Wayne shook his head again, snorting again as he looked at the front door and then to his nephews.

"Teenagers."

A dark hoodie was pulled over you head, black sunglasses sitting on your face as you leaned over the counter, sat in a chair Robin had pulled out for you. You weren't supposed to be in that day, disguise on you as you were wary to see sight of either boy.

"You look the exact same," Robin muttered, leaning on her elbow, one hand running across the cracked counter of the video store.

"Robin, shut up," you replied, ducking your head even further. Steve was nowhere to be seen, his shift not yet started. She laughed at you, shooting a look to a group of middle schoolers who were daring each other to sneak past the 'Adults Only' curtain.

"You look like you, but in disguise," she laughed, shaking her head at you as you looked around the store.

"That's the whole point, dingus."

"How long are you planning on avoiding the two of them again?"

You rolled your eyes behind the shades, pulling the hoodie further down over your head.

"Until they both forget I exist."

"Yeah, doubt that's going to happen. Steve hasn't stopped talking about you since the last time you saw him, and I see Eddie's van lingering in the parking lot, like a stalker," she said, sighing as she watched your paranoia. "You know, if they ever make a movie or something about the Richard Ramirez guy down in California, Eddie could definitely play him. Maybe he should get into acting!"

You gave her a deadpan look, mouth pressed into a thin line.

"You're losing the point, Robs."

She shrugged, sitting up as her hands found the counter. Her chipped black nails stretched in front of you, tapping patterns into the wood.

"I'm just saying, they're not going to forget about you or what happened two weeks ago."

"But I can try, no?"

The preteens who were terrorizing the store ran around, knocking over displays as they pretended to shoot at each other with finger guns. Robin shouted at them, fingers snapping in their direction.

"No, you cannot," her finger pointed at you, emphasizing her point. "You had to know this was bound to happen."

Groaning, you shrunk into your seat, hands at your head. "I know, but not like this."

"Well, I don't know what I'm supposed to say here," she said, grimacing a fake-smile (could you call it that?) at an older gentleman who came up, glasses huge against his oily face. He pushed his way to the counter, a little too close and personal to the two of you.

You both leaned out of his space, look bleak as he proceeded to ask about a movie.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Robin answered, typing into the computer as he supplied details of it. She searched the stores inventory, typing and retyping star names as he gave the wrong ones. "A stranger? Calling? 1979, really?"

He nodded in response, insistent on the description. You watched the interaction unfold, eyes darting between the pair.

"Yes, ma'am," he said, clearing his throat. The hacking of his throat had the two of you leaning further out of his reach. "1979, with that Carol Kane chick."

"Chick?" She muttered under breath, eyebrows flitting at the word. You laughed at her, her reaction being one of the reasons why you loved her so much. She typed some more, pausing as a title finally appeared on the screen. "I think I got it."

The slow computer loaded, pixel by pixel as details emerged. She leaned in closer, reading the details aloud.

"Ahh, When a Stranger Calls," she nodded, typing more information to search for its location in the store. Your eyebrows raised slightly, realization dawning on you. Your head suddenly felt more clear. "Girl gets calls from a stranger, finds out it isn't a prank, that whole slasher thing."

You stood up out of the chair, the furniture tilting back to slam onto the floor. Both Robin and the older man jumped at the loud noise, eyeing you as you pointed towards your best friend.

"That's it!"

The man grumbled, pushing his glasses up his nose. "I think I was being helped first."

You waved your hand in his direction, focused on Robin who started at you, wide eyed. "I'm going to call them! Explain that I was serious about them both, but couldn't decide and break it off tonight! With them both!"

Robin squinted her eyes at your exclamation, not following.

"I think you missed the point," she said, annoyed look on her face.

"No, that's it!" You cheered, smile wide as you took the glasses off of your face. "Thank you, Robs. Oh my God, I owe you."

You turned to run out the store, giddy with emotion as Robin stood behind you, confused as always when it came to you. A bleak 'you're welcome?' followed you out there as you ran into the street. Your plan for later was much clearer now, anxious emotions fleeing as you made your way towards home.

You chewed on your fingernail, tapping your foot against your kitchen linoleum, glass of wine in your other hand. They were supposed to be here any moment, the two of them supposed to be arriving separately, hours in between so things could go smoothly. You were expecting them to tear each other apart, fight to the death or something of the sort right in your driveway. Hours before, two separate phone calls had orchestrated, different time slots reserved for the heartbreaking conversations that were to take place.

The calls had gone smoothly, only for you to spiral hours later, red wine being your only escape into a less anxious state of mind. You expected it to be okay, the in-person talk, yet could only think of the worst case scenario at hand.

The shrill ringing of the doorbell pulled you out of your thoughts, your heart racing with every step you took towards the front door. You took a deep breath before opening it, Steve and Eddie both standing there to your surprise.

Your mouth dropped open, eyes wide as you looked between them two. Beginning to close the door, Eddie's hand shot out, stopping the movement.

"Hey, sweetheart," he beamed, tilting his head to the side. Steve gave him a look, eye roll in place at the nickname.

"Sweetheart?" Steve grumbled, hands resting on his hips.

"What—how did—why are you guys here?" You muttered, stepping aside as the two of them walked in. You remained frozen, eyes staring outside, where they once stood as they began to make themselves comfortable In your home.

Steve cleared his throat, pulling you from your trance. Reluctantly, you shut the door, turning to them as you gripped the wine glass in your hand.

Eddie stood, leaned against one of the walls in the foyer, Steve dead center in the small room.

"You invited us over, remember?" Eddie supplied, smile on his lips. Your eyes widened, darting back and forth between the duo. You shook your head rapidly, walking past them to the living room as they began to follow you.

You turned to them, a large swig being taken from the glass. "No! No! I invited you-" You pointed towards Eddie, "-over. And then him."

"Looks like you got two for the price of one," Eddie's stupid smug look had you faint, breath shallow as you moved to sit down, the Earth feeling shaky beneath you. He moved to sit beside you, legs splayed wide as he spread himself on the couch. Steve remained in place, arms crossed over his chest as he took in the sight.

"No, that's not—It wasn't su-"

"Supposed to be like this?" Steve spoke, his voice filling the air, drawing you from your thoughts. You looked at him, moving to take another drink from the glass, only to find it empty. He watched your hands, gripping the glass until your skin turned paler than your normal complexion.

Eddie leaned in your direction, hand coming out to rest at your thigh. You and Steve’s eyes followed the motion, time standing still.

“So, what did you want to speak with us about sweetheart?” The emphasis on their pairing echoed in the spacious living area, his vowels drawing out with an exaggeration that had your heart sinking.

“I just wanted to…” you cleared your throat, leaning to place the empty wine glass on the coffee table. “I was going to tell you that this isn’t working anymore.”

Steve’s eyebrows raised from his side of the coffee fable, he let out a low whistle at the words.

“Working with who?”

“Both. Both of you.” The two men nodded at your words, staring you down as you formulated your next words.

“You can’t keep up with the both of us?” Eddie asked, thumb beginning to rub small circles on your knee. Subconsciously, your knee began to pull closer to his, a familiar feeling settling in the pit of your stomach.

“You want me to choose one of you, and I can’t do that,” you sighed, placing your hand over his. He grinned at the touch, leaning into you even closer. Steve shifted nervously, watching the two of you. Even from here, you felt guilty, you making contact with the older man felt like you were choosing.

“You don’t have to do that,” Steve spoke up, moving to sit on the other side of you. You felt caged in.

A deep sigh left you, nerves returning as your sides began to warm up, the heat from their bodies entering you in the close proximity.

“I-I do, and it’s not fair.”

Your voice remained small as you removed your hand from him, clasping them in your lap. Leaning your back against the couch cushion, you found comfort in the ceiling, eyes searching the white paint.

“You’re right. It’s not fair,” Steve said, placing his own hand on your thigh.

It rested higher than Eddie’s, his own eyes acknowledging that and taking it as competition. His fingers left your knee, drifting up until it rested where your hip bone was. A shuttered gasp left your mouth, legs twitching under the contact. He leaned into you, mouth brushing the cusp of your ear, lips softly brushing the skin.

“You don’t have to choose just one,” he whispered, your eyes widening at the tone in his voice. “You could have us both.”

You shot up, shaking their hands off of you as you rose from the couch. Steve rose his hands in defense, while Eddie remained still, leaning on the couch cushion in the same position he was speaking to you. Looking in between them both, you were ready for them both to start laughing, pointing fingers at you, hell, even Robin coming out of somewhere and joining in on the joke.

“That’s not funny, Eddie.”

He shrugged, corners of his mouth downturning as you stared him down. The look on his face was still in good humour, glimmer behind his eyes.

“I’m not kidding. Stevie here was the one who suggested it.”

Your eyes cut to the him, disbelief in every inch of your body. He had been the most territorial of this entire ordeal, making lewd comments about Eddie that made you assume he couldn’t stand him, let alone even suggest this.

“Steve?” The shake behind your voice had him reaching up to you, placing a hand on your hip. You stepped away from it, eyes slightly dropping when he looked disappointed.

“You weren’t going to choose,” his voice seemed hesitant. “I wasn’t going to make you. And if you like Eddie… as much as you like me, I figured it would work.”

Eddie snorted, grabbing your hand to pull him into you despite your protest. You fell into his lap, snug against his hips with your legs in Steve’s direction.

“I think you mean as much as she likes me, pretty boy,” he blew a kiss in the younger’s direction, winking to follow. Steve rolled his eyes, shaking his head at the gesture. You lingered on his face, noticing how his cheeks reddened ever so slightly. Eddie’s hand found your cheek, cupping it as he brought your gaze to him.

Inches away from his face, your noses brushed each other, your breath getting caught in the back of your throat. Slowly, your mouths met, lips parted as his fit perfectly in between. His tongue ran over your bottom lip, a small nip given to you. You felt a hand run across your calf, pulling away from Eddie to see Steve, eyes running over the sight of your legs, palms spreading over your skin.

Eddie pulled you into a kiss again, your eyes unmoving from Steve as he leaned over to place a few kisses at the bend of your knee. You gasped into his mouth, spreading your legs as Steve began to spread his love across your skin.

“Wait, I—” all hands left your skin, leaving you feeling naked. The two of them waited for your next move, eyes blinking in anticipation. “Steve, you’re okay with this?”

He slowly nodded, seemingly thinking over the answer. He opened his mouth to speak, words getting caught in your throat.

“I—yeah, I am. I mean, uhh, I’d do anything for you,” his voice was sincere, quiet into the room as Eddie began pressing his mouth to your neck. You craned your neck, eyes fluttering shut at the press of his mouth.

“And Eddie?” Your voice strained, moan intertwined with it.

He nodded vehemently, teeth scraping against your jugular. He mumbled against you, “Fuck yes. The two of you are, like, insanely hot.”

Steve blushed at his words, dipping his chin as he leaned over you, kissing you the length of your legs until he reached your hipbones. You were stretched across Eddie’s lap, his hands running madly over your torso. With your eyes closed, you felt absolute bliss, mouths pressed against you, hands running wild, soft moans filling in the air in which you could barely decipher who they were coming from.

Steve’s fingers reached for your waistline, moving to bring down your shorts, only to be stopped by your fingers at his wrist. His eyes looked up at you, mouth parted open in surprise.

“There’s no way we’re doing this on the couch,” you said, standing up and pulling the two of them with you. “My parents are gonna kill me.”

They followed close behind you, trailing up the stairs as you lead them to your room. As your bedroom door swung open, you barely had time to walk in the room before Eddie was lifting you up, pushing you down on the bed before crawling over you. He was pulling off both of your clothes in a rush, throwing them all around the room in between getting his mouth anywhere he could touch.

“I think they might kill you for a couple of different reasons, sweetheart,” he gestured towards himself and Steve, swallowing the laugh that escaped you with his lips.

The bed dipped as Steve settled down next to you, kneeling from where you two were tangled amidst each other. Reaching for Steve’s shirt, you paused, realizing where this familiar graphic had came from.

“You’re wearing Eddie’s shirt,” you deadpanned, arching your back as Eddie kissed down your body, pulling your underwear down with his downward trail. The cold air hit your skin, wetness pooled between your thighs.

Steve’s cheeks reddened again, a nod coming before he crossed his arms at his chest, pulling it over his head.

“We had to, uhh, test things out earlier,” he quickly said, leaning down to kiss you. His mouth on yours for the first time that evening felt like heaven, a piece you didn’t realize was missing.

You slapped at his chest, mouth dropping.

“You’ve been playing me this entire time!”

Eddie’s tongue found you, circling your clit lightly before he delved in, mouth firmly planted at the nub. A curse fell from your mouth, hands shooting down to tug at his hair. Your head fell back against the duvet cover, Steve’s hand running through your hair as you tried to find your breathing.

It was sloppy, his tongue working you as loud noises filled the room. He ate you like he was starved, lapping up your wetness, diving his tongue into you, kissing the junction of where your thighs met. He looked up at you, hair falling into his eyes as he flicked his tongue, drawing pleasure from the sensitive nub.

“We had to beat you at your own game,” Steve whispered, pulling down his boxers until he sprung out, cock dripping. Your mouth fell open at the sight, tongue running over you bottom lip. He began to run a hand over it, fingers trailing from his wet head to his shaft, spreading a layer of the precum everywhere.

Leaning up on an elbow, you reached for him, wrapping your fingers around him before pressing your lips to the head. He groaned, fingers tangling in your hair as he guided you down on him, your mouth stretching wide the lower you swallowed him.

“Fuck, baby, you feel so good,” he groaned, hips making small thrusts as you sucked at him, cheeks hollowing.

Drool began to pool at the corner of your mouth, small groans caught in your throat as Eddie continued to tongue fuck you, his fingers running lightly over you clit. Your hips squirmed, trying to get more of him on you.

You pulled off of Steve, working him with your fist as you looked down at him.

“Need more, Eds.”

He nodded, smirking around you as he slipped in two fingers, pushing them to the knuckle, a curl in them. Your head tilted back a little bit, eyes briefly shutting at the pleasure that found you. A whine fell from you, your body tensing as he crooked his fingers, moving fast as squelching sounds began to fill the air.

Steve’s hand in your hair tightened, pulling you closer to him as your grip on him loosened.

“Okay, time to focus, baby,” he whispered, hand tight in your hair, the other placed on your chin, pulling you mouth open before you wrapped your lips around him. It was hard to even think straight, the feeling of his heavy cock on your tongue, Eddie’s tongue and fingers against you clouding every bit of judgement you had.

Your other hand rose to cup Steve’s balls, rolling them behind your fingers as he pushed you down to deep throat him. You couldn’t even be mad, used to the roughness he gave you, him often seeking his own high as fast as possible, he knew you loved feeling used in moments like this. Choking around him, you swirled your tongue on the underside of his dick, moaning at the pulse it gave you.

Eddie’s fingers gave you one last curl, that final push to your sweet spot that had your legs pulled up, squeezing around his head as you came, whining around Steve. He didn’t stop, fingering you through it, lapping at you as you shook below him, back arching off the bed as you squeezed your eyes shut. As you came down, the overstimulation hit you, aching between your legs as you pushed him off of you.

A laugh was heard as he crawled up to where you were sucking at Steve, body turned now to face him completely. Eddie’s ringed hand came up to lace with Steve’s, strands of your hair getting caught between your fingers.

“Aw, look at you, sweetheart.”

Eddie’s voice was rough, crouched down on the bed inches away from where your mouth met Steve.

He held eye contact with you, your hooded eyes watering at the way the head of his cock hit the back of your throat. His tongue traced over his lips as he stared down at your mouth working the younger man.

“Need more?” He asked you in a whisper, pressing a kiss to your temple.

You nodded, pulling off of Steve to catch your breath. He whined at the loss of contact, cock so swollen now you were sure that it hurt.

Eddie patted your hip, bringing you to your knees. You kneeled on all fours, ass sticking up as Eddie began to move towards you. Steve’s hand shot out, gripping his shoulder.

“No fucking way, Munson,” he hissed, squeezing the base of his cock. Eddie rolled his eyes at him, pushing at his shoulder as Steve scrambled to get behind you instead. He stumbled over his boxers still pushed to the bottom of his thighs as he kicked them off, finally rising to his knees behind you.

“Come on, big boy,” you giggled, mocking Eddie’s nickname, wiggling your hips in his direction.

A hand placed at the base of your spine pushing you down as he ran a hand over his dick a few times, eyes rolling at you.

“Shut up,” he exhaled, pushing into you slowly as you stretched around him. The slow push inside had the two of you groaning, your fingers clawing at the sheets, you found Eddie’s hip, gripping at it tightly.

Eddie rose to his knees, bringing your body up with him.

“Ready?” He asked you, nodding along with you before he guided his cock into your mouth. He moved slowly, your head bobbing along him as you rocked from the thrusts that Steve gave you.

Being filled from both ends had you blinded in pleasure, eyes rolled back to your head as the two men began to use you. It started slow, the combined movements of their hips in sync. Your body felt limp, jolting with their movement, mouth wide, stretched full.

Steve found his rhythm, taking charge as he began to pound into you, hands on your hips, pulling you back into him. The harshness of it had you choking on Eddie, gagging around him, cock thick and dripping into the back of your throat. Loud slaps filled the air, Steve’s grunts accompanying the noise.

“You look so perfect, princess.”

You looked up at Eddie, tears prickling in your eyes. That white hot familiar heat bubbled within you, already at your breaking point. The two men were no match for you, you were turned on beyond belief.

“Fuck, look how good you’re taking him.”

Steve’s words this time, his voice low and raspy—mind in a different headspace. He was relentless, driving into you so fast, you were running from it, arching your hips down as the head of his dick began to press onto your cervix.

“Come here,” he grunted, driving your hips back onto him. You were pulled off of Eddie, a cry of pleasure and pain, you weren’t quite sure which one yet leaving you.

“Ca-can’t. ‘S too much.”

Your head shook, eyes squeezed shut as you pushed your hips back against him anyways. Eddie’s fingers found your chin again, pulling your head in his direction.

“Baby,” he whispered, you shaking your head as Steve fucked you, speeding up as he began to near his high. Your legs shook with pleasure, wetness dripping from you at this point.

“Look at him,” Steve grunted, pressing deep as he drove into you.

Your eyes shot open, squinting up at Eddie, his hair sticking to his neck and shoulders as the air became more dense. He guided you back onto him, keeping your mouth only at his tip as he jerked the rest of his length. His chest began to rise and fall rapidly, his tell tale sign of his own release.

“Oh, fuck.”

Steve’s whisper under his breath had his hips stilling, spilling into you with his hot, sticky release. He thrusted a few more times, pushing his cum deeper, some of it spilling out the sides of his cock. Pulling out of you, he leaned down, licking at your hole, stretched from his brutal force earlier.

It only took a few licks from him, licking at his own release, to have you screaming again, legs shaking as your own orgasm coursed through your body. It was the best one you think you’d ever experienced, mind going fuzzy, abdomen tensing, rolling waves of euphoria through your spine.

“Fuck, Steve—” Eddie groaned, jerking himself faster before pulling himself out of your mouth. “Are you— ah, fuck.”

His sentence cut off, cum spurting from his dick all over your face, the angle having it drip down your cheeks, lips, and all over your chin. It felt warm against you as you came down from your high, eyes fluttering shut and your tongue sticking out to catch the rest of it. Eddie groaned even more, pushing the head of his cock onto the flat of your mouth, smearing his release all over it.

You swallowed it, smiling up at the way he stared down out you, that dark look in his eyes. Steve collapsed next to the two of you, laying on his back as he rubbed a hand over his chest.

“You guys are so hot,” he mumbled to himself, not meaning to be heard. The two of you laughed at his words, Eddie leaning over to grab his shirt to wipe off your face.

He was gentle with the touch, wiping down your face with the material as he looked lovingly at you. The interaction was comical, the adoration he gave you while wiping his literal cum off of you.

The three of you settled in, Steve on his back, you laying across him, cheek on his sternum as Eddie laid on top of you, his own head on your hip.

“Did you guys really know I was talking to you both at the same time?” You asked, voice small. Eddie snorted, shaking his head before Steve reached out and slapped him. He shushed him, cutting him a look. They seemed to be in on some inside joke you weren’t apart of.

“Hey, I don’t like that you guys are keeping secrets now,” you whined, reaching down to rub at the top of Eddie’s head. He leaned into the touch, pressing a kiss to your hip.

“No, it was, uhh, Robin,” Steve confessed, rushing out his words in one breath. Your eyes widened, looking at him in shock. Eddie stifled a laugh, coughing to cover his tracks.

“I’m going to kill her,” you said. You shouldn’t have been surprised that she said something after, you knew your best friend to start shit, always lurking in quiet corners.

Covering your face with your hands, you let out a groan. You felt Steve’s body shake with laughter, his own hands coming up to pull your hands away.

“Shh, it’s fine,” he joked, rubbing circles into your hair. You shook your head, a deep sigh coursing through you.

“I mean, look where we are now,” Eddie whispered, wrapping his arms around you as he closed his eyes. He took a deep breath, settling into you as he began to search for sleep. You felt it creeping onto you, energy drained.

“I’m still confused on what this even is.” Steve hummed in agreement, his hands stilling on you as he closed his own eyes.

The three of you fell into a pattern of slow breaths, slight shifts that moved the other person’s body, yet still one together. These two around you were the missing pieces you figured you were missing your entire life, emptiness deep in the pit of your soul that you’d never figured would be missing. Being with them separately was one thing, but together it made sense.

“I’m sure we can figure it out, hon,” Eddie mumbled, pulling you closer to him. Steve moved with you, a tangle of limbs on top of each other that would soon be the normal.

a/n: this was supposed to come a lot faster than it did, so I’m sorry but here it is :) tags: @emma-munson @username199945

Masterlist. Inbox and requests are open!

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Exchanged clothes [S. R] Bolinus brandaris part. 2

Spencer Reid x fem!reader

word count: 4.6k

part 1

summary: a small act of kindness leads to a rather peculiar confession

A/N: Okaay, some people showed interest in a sequel to this and I thought I'd do it, I hope you like it enough. Oh and we are still with baby Spencer, later I will write about the second and third seasons (and as I progress in the series, lol)

taglist: @the-ginger-draws @skievers @c-m-stuff

The days passed, the cases continued, and the level of trust in the friendship between you and Reid only grew. Working at The Behavioral Analysis Unit was complicated and exhausting in many ways, which sometimes made you wonder how he managed to put up with all that, because, although you weren’t an old woman, you did have two years more experience compared to him. It's also not like it was your fault that he was a genius and he went to work for the FBI at an extraordinary age. So every time something happened, you were there for him and he was there for you. The whole team really cared about the two of you (and JJ, the third youngest) while still trusting in your abilities to face challenges. And just like in a family, everyone could also notice the existing tension between you and the doctor, because although, at least on your part, the feelings had been there for a long time, they had become more obvious to the rest since of the trip to Miami.

"Good morning" you had greeted part of the team that day, a few weeks after the trip, more energetic than the others would have expected. Neither Hotch nor Gideon were around, for obvious reasons, so it was only when you passed Reid's desk that you stopped, running your hand affectionately through his hair “Hey, Doc.”

"Hello," he responded immediately. Spencer didn't like it when his hair got messy, but he could take it if it was you, just as he could take your constant hugs or the drawings you sometimes made on his hand when you were bored during meetings. Of everything that happened between you, little managed to bother him, almost as if the interactions he avoided with others were something natural with you around.

Although he had stopped wearing his scarf daily, he still wore it at least once a week as a reminder of how special it was to him, and fortunately that day was the chosen one.

“Do we have a case? Or do I just bury my nose in these reports?” you muttered to the others, but they denied "What of that do you say no to?"

"Today they will be documents" JJ spoke kindly.

"Why do I have so many?"

“Because I passed you some of mine,” Morgan sneered and you gasped, completely offended. You whispered something accusatory in his direction that made Spencer laugh from the next desk, and then he reached over to take just under half the folders.

"I will help you"

"Oh no, no, Reid. It's okay,” you said, your voice softening noticeably, as you placed your hands over his to try to stop him.

"It's nothing, I'll finish them in a jiffy"

"Why don't you ever offer to help me, huh?"

“You manage pretty well on your own,” Spencer teased at your friend, now making you laugh. You still had your hands on his under the excuse of collecting your reports and, perhaps unconsciously, both of you postponed the moment for another few seconds, looking into your eyes with a small smile until he finally managed to keep the material that he had stolen from your desk.

"Thank you," you said, so softly that only he could hear you.

Looking at your coworker had already become something of an obsession. You liked his gestures, how he looked away when he spoke, his nervous ramblings, and the straight hair that he apparently was letting grow, but what you liked the most were his hands. When he was explaining a profile, he always communicated a lot with his body language and honestly, the swaying of his hands, combined with the tranquility in his tone of voice, was very hypnotic to you, as if keeping the attention of others was something inescapable for him, although it was probably easier to keep your attention specifically. Right now, while everyone was minding their own business, you were watching sideways as he ran his middle finger over the printed lines. It made you nervous to see the delicacy with which he moved across the sheet of paper and inevitably your mind traveled to inappropriate corners related to that movement, which embarrassed you to the point of blushing. Thank heavens he was too focused to notice you, so you forced yourself to work on the few reports Reid had let you keep.

The days were very rare when no cases appeared, but you were grateful that they existed because sometimes it was necessary to take a breather. Seeing so many bodies, so much blood and so much inhumanity was something you never quite got used to, although having good teammates in your unit made it more bearable. So that night nothing stopped you from finishing right on time, with a little back pain from sitting all day, but also quite calm.

"I'll see you tomorrow, rest"

"Are you going to your apartment?" Spencer asked, rushing towards you with his coat in hand and the briefcase slung over his shoulder, and you nodded Can you wait for me to go together?”

You looked at him, more confused than you wanted, but you said yes. It's not that you were upset or that you didn't want company, but that you were curious as to why he might have offered to do it.

"Thanks again, for earlier," you said, once both of you were outside. You lived a few streets from the office and you could get there in less than 20 minutes by taking a subway station, which fortunately was the same one he took.

“Okay, they were too many for you. I mean, it's not that I think you can't do the job, you're very capable, it's just that I thought it was too much workload for just you and I… well, I could help you so I did it” with that Reid held up a hand to downplay the matter and smiled at you.

“Why have we never thought about walking to the subway together?”

"I don't know either," he said. You felt a gust of wind hit the both of you so you hugged yourself to try and get some warmth and even though Spencer wasn't the best at reading social cues he managed to figure out what you had and what he needed to do 

“Here” he murmured, as he spread the coat and put it on your shoulders.

“Oh no, no, no, Reid. I'm fine"

"In fact, if you don't use it you can catch a cold and although there are very few cases in which there are complications that lead to death, the symptoms last about a week and you can infect several people during the first days, so you not only you would be taking care of yourself but also the rest of the team” he informed you. That made you smile, and you found that behind all his scientific mumbo jumbo, he was trying to take care of you.

"It's a little big on me," you laughed, reaching into the sleeves with some help from him.

“You look pretty” he blurted out from his lips, completely entranced by you “Well, the… the coat. It looks good” he tried to fix, but you laughed at the compliment that you definitely wouldn't pass up.

"Aren't you cold?"

“No, my shirt and vest help,” Spencer replied, showing you the long sleeve of her white shirt. “I also have my scarf, did you forget it?”

"The best choice in all your outfits" you joked, reaching out a hand to feel the soft fabric of the garment and looking at him, with that cute shy smile "What will you do when you get to your apartment?"

“Huh, probably get some sleep. I haven't been resting properly in the past few days."

"Nightmares again?" you sadly asked. Spencer had talked to you superficially about it a few days ago, although you thought that he had suffered from this disease for much longer than he wanted to admit. He didn't answer verbally, he just nodded his head and you thought he didn't want to delve into it “I think I'll spend a while in the bathtub and then I'll sleep. I'm exhausted"

“You close doors and windows before you sleep, right?”

"I do," you assured him.

“Do you also take your cell phone with you to call in case of emergencies?”

"Huh, yeah"

"Good. Take care of yourself” he insisted. Those didn't sound like random recommendations and that puzzled you a bit.

"I do, Reid," you replied softly. When you noticed that the concern in his features did not leave him, you thought it would be prudent to ask him why that was "Are you worried about something?"

"No, it's not that" he hastened to answer. You still had a few blocks to go to get to the subway and only a few passers-by walked the streets, besides you.

“Are they unsub then? Anything in particular that worries you?"

"It's nothing like that. It's just…” he gasped, still unsure to continue, “if I tell you, you'll think it's silly”

"Of course not. Tell me, what is it?" you asked. He was internally debating if he should tell you what he was thinking and he was convinced a little when he felt your hand on his arm, as if prompting him to speak.

“Yesterday I…” he started to say “I had a nightmare. I dreamed when I arrived at the office I found out that something bad had happened to you. And… I don't know, it felt very real and I couldn't get it out of my head” he admitted. You understood that perhaps it was the reason he had wanted to accompany you, as if he feared that someone might stalk you on the way.

“Spence” you murmured gently, as you pulled him a little in your direction to place one hand on his bicep and the other on his forearm “Don't worry, nothing's going to happen to me. My apartment complex has a good security system and I always carry my gun, if something happens on the street, I will know how to deal with it. They're just bad dreams, I have them sometimes too” you said to reassure him. You felt quite comfortable walking in that position and you continued a couple of steps holding him like this, looking for some negative sign from him, but it never came. With the closeness he managed to feel a little less fear, reminding himself that what tormented him were fantasies of his own mind, that if they were analyzed with a little more detail they were an unconscious reflection of how much he feared losing you.

"I told you it would be silly"

"It is not. It's quite sweet, actually,” you smiled, moving your thumb up and down as you smiled at him. In that position your face was at the height of the boy's shoulder and it was enough for him to turn his head to reach your forehead, so he wondered how much you would bother if he left you a kiss there. He wanted to, but held back.

“I just thought I should tell you. For you to be careful"

“Same to you, Reid. You have a rather peculiar ability to get into trouble” you exclaimed accusingly, because in a couple of cases the man had already managed to get on your nerves.

The position turned out to be cozier than you expected and you continued walking the rest of the streets towards the subway in silence. He concentrated on the feeling of your body so close to him and your hands gently holding him, while you lost yourself in thought wondering what you really felt about your coworker and what he felt for you. Spencer would look at you from time to time, analyzing your gestures and enjoying the sight of you wearing his clothes, something he didn't think would affect him the way he did.

“Did you know that railway suicides have a very small percentage in the country's suicide rate?” he told you, while the two of you looked at the subway tracks that you were waiting for. You had had to distance yourself to be able to pay the pennies for the ticket and you had decided to place your hands in the pockets of your borrowed coat, caressing the lining fabric with your fingers.

"I had no idea" you muttered. You were a little surprised that he always had an interesting fact about literally anywhere you were and you loved hearing him tell you “It must be horrible. And very sad"

"Even the government allocates certain resources to pay for psychological therapy for drivers who witness these suicides"

"Well, at least it comforts me to know that part of my taxes ends there," you joked bitterly and the train stopped just as you finished saying it. Reid let you first into the nearly empty car that would take you home, and along the way you continued to talk about less unfortunate things, like the dinner choices you were planning or the TV shows that were likely to be airing when you arrived.

Having those little quiet moments with him made you feel lucky and the laughs he managed to get filled your chest with joy, making you completely forget everything related to work. The voice in the wagon warned that your stop was next and an anticipated sadness invaded you.

“Be…”

"Be careful, I know" you smiled. Since you were already on your feet, so as not to miss your stop, you crouched down to give him a quick goodbye hug “See you tomorrow. Try to sleep and if you have nightmares you can call me, okay?" you muttered. He nodded from his place as he watched you leave towards the platform and leaned out the window to see your figure disappear into the distance.

Neither of you two realized that you had kept his coat until you got home.

As of that night, that coat returned to see the doctor's closet on very few occasions and the purple scarf went on to have joint custody. He had found out that if he loved anything more than wearing the clothes you gave him, it was seeing you wearing them, causing him to come up with totally pathetic excuses to accomplish that. 

"It's a bit cold" "Purple matches your clothes" or simply "keep it, it looks better on you than on me"

It soon became a habit. During the cases, when you two were apart, it was a little comforting to have something of him with you and when he came home, he would enjoy breathing in the smell of your perfume impregnated on the fabric.

After a few weeks you realized that, without a doubt, you were so in love with him. And when he realized the same thing, he was completely terrified.

“Reid” you greeted him one morning, catching up with him as he poured himself a coffee and analyzed a piece of bread that had surely been sitting there since the day before. Hugs when seeing him had also become a habit, quite nice from the man’s point of view "I have something for you"

"Again?"

"Oh yeah," you smiled. Lately you had been filling him with small gifts and most of them quite rare, but which he kept suspiciously in his desk drawer. And it's not that he didn't appreciate it, but that he was beginning to feel guilty for receiving so many and not having given you any yet. "Give me your keys," you asked and he obeyed without even questioning you. Once you had them in your hand, you took a strip of colored beads from your pocket that you added as a key ring, while he looked at you with some confusion.

"What's that?"

“My friend asked me to babysit her daughter this weekend and we went crazy with crafts. So I thought I'd do this to you” you muttered. He took a closer look at the keyring and noted that you had included his favorite colors, purple and green, as well as a heart-shaped bead at the end. "I know it looks like a preschool kid's creation and if you're embarrassed to wear it you can throw it away”

"No, I like it. It's pretty,” he smiled, running his long fingers over the beads. Satisfied with the answer, you took out your own keys and proudly showed them to him.

"I have one just like it," you said happily. That was true, only yours was made of pink and blue, and the way you said it completely touched the man.

"You make me think that there is still goodness in this world, you know?" he exclaimed, so sincere and without thinking that he surprised you "I loved it, thank you very much"

"Now that I think about it, it's like one of those friendship bracelets you make at summer camp”

“I never went to a summer camp”

"I don't know why I'm not surprised" you laughed and would have continued the conversation if it hadn't been for Hotch's interruption.

“We've got a case. Conference room in 5”

Sometimes you forgot that the real reason you were there was the criminal profiles and not seeing Spencer Reid every day.

You just woke up one morning and knew you had to tell Spencer how you felt about him. As you said before, Spencer seemed to have a special magnet for trouble and proof of this were the cases in which he had to perform dangerous tasks that you knew no one else could do. When he had to get on that train with Ted Bryar you'd gone crazy and last week when he'd watched that cult boy on Massanutten Mountain threaten Reid with a gun you decided you'd had enough.

He had expressed concern for your well-being on multiple occasions, but what about his? Didn't you have the right to care about him just as much? every time he came back you wanted to throw yourself into his arms and whisper in his ear if he was okay, to maybe leave a kiss or two on his cheeks. But every time he came back you just cheered with the rest of the team and barely had contact with him beyond a squeeze on the shoulder and a sincere: I'm glad you're okay.

So you thought that if you wanted to have that kind of privilege over others the only alternative was to profess your love to him in the hope that he would feel the same way and you could work something out.

Spencer, for his own part, also had his epiphany and as much as he tried to avoid it he ended up asking Morgan for advice, who was the only person he thought would be suitable to talk about this kind of subject. Surprisingly, Derek behaved discreetly and really gave the doctor valuable elements to understand one of the few sciences in which science was almost obsolete: love.

Going back to recently acquired habits, walking together to the subway was another one of them. Sometimes this was interrupted because he or you stayed longer than the other, but except for those cases it was a regular activity.

So that night, when you two were walking to the station, your mind was immersed in remembering the speech with which you planned to tell your friend.

"You're very quiet today," Reid observed, taking you by surprise. In a few months he had already learned very well some traits that indicated that something was wrong with you.

“Sorry, I… I have a few things on my mind,” you apologized, but Spencer didn't know what to say because he also had his own things on his mind. He was desperately searching for a way to put into words what he felt, but he kept wondering, could that be explained? All attempts at reasoning became useless with you near him, maybe that's why he couldn't think of how to tell you "Reid, I don't think I've ever asked you, but have you ever had a partner?"

"Like… couple?" he asked, trying to make sure you were referring to the same thing he thought.

“I know it sounds weird, but it just… made me curious,” you exclaimed, shrugging and then crossing your arms in an attempt to comfort yourself. Reid fondly watched how your arms were on that purple scarf and felt a little motivated to speak.

“Huh, in that case, yes, something like that. I dated two people when I was in school, but it wasn't anything serious, just a few kisses” he explained to you and you failed to contain your laughter, maybe because of the way he had explained it. Spencer blushed to his ears and smiled reflexively at your smile. "Don't tease!"

"I don't" you defended yourself. Another person walked down the sidewalk and he reached out his arm to move you protectively in front of him, so when you came back to his side you took advantage of the distance between you, to the point where your shoulder brushed against his arm.

"And you?" he asked after a while of silence "Have you had many boyfriends?"

"The truth? not so many. With most of them I lost interest after the first date and the others left me when they found out I was in the academy. Apparently armed women aren't very attractive” you smiled. You had asked about his romantic history, and incidentally talked a bit about yours, only to open the topic and somehow feel that your confession would not be so out of place.

“There are studies that indicate that women take longer to fall in love than men, perhaps that is why you lost interest quickly. For you it takes about 6 or 8 dates to decide if you want something with a person, because you are more selective and better analyze personality traits in men. But they only care that the girls are… well, pretty” he murmured, with a smirk “On average it takes women 134 days to fall in love while men only 88”

“How long have you and I known each other?”

"It must be like... a year and a half now" he exclaimed, mentally doing the math "Why?" he continued legitimately confused. For the genius that he was, Reid was naive at times.

You looked down at him and for a second thought that even with those bags under his eyes and the stubble he hadn't shaved, Spencer was the most handsome man you'd ever met. Not receiving an answer, he looked at you and was surprised to see the sparkle in your eyes.

"Okay, can we stop here for a moment?" you asked. You knew you were probably going to chicken out if you didn't say it right then, even if that closed beauty salon you were standing in front of was an unromantic place. "I need to tell you something”

You had said it with determination, but once you were face to face, your mind went blank. You panicked: how were you going to tell him? What was the right thing to say? What reaction did you expect?

But Spencer, noticing the silence, decided to be the first to speak.

“Noradrenaline is a neurotransmitter that produces excitement and effusivity, increases heartbeat, blood pressure, causing sweating of hands and flushing. High dopamine levels generate a need to be with the person that releases it and is related to serotonin, which generates well-being, optimism, social closeness, and reduces discomfort and anger. Phenylethylamine makes everything more intense, makes us feel more motivated and optimistic and finally, oxytocin is the love hormone par excellence, it occurs when we have a bond of trust with people or when we feel a strong attraction. Sometimes it is also released when we embrace the reason for our affection” he had said that so hastily and waving his hands, that he could only show how nervous he was. He inhaled to catch his lost breath, then finally made eye contact with you, taking a moment before continuing, “What I'm trying to say is…you make me feel all of that. You alter my chemistry in ways I've never thought of and… and I… go all goofy and don't know what to say…”

"Spencer" you interrupted him "You mean you like me?" you asked gently, because you knew that when he started to wander sometimes you needed to bring him back down to earth. Reid looked at you tight-lipped and nodded slowly.

You were silent for a second, trying to process what he had just told you, and he got even more nervous than he was.

“But I think that after all this what I care to know is… if you feel the same way. Or in the worst case, if you think you might feel something like this”

“A total chemical mess for you?” you exclaimed amused. One of your hands went to his and you gently held it, taking a step closer to him. “I'm sorry, Reid. I feel it every time I look at you, that you hug me, every time I give you those silly gifts and see the smile on your face. Everything in you causes me that"

"Are you serious?" he asked, wanting to be completely sure what he was hearing. You laughed and wrapped your free arm around his neck, pulling him into a hug.

“Of course I do. Before you said all that I was racking my brain trying to find a way to tell you how I felt."

“Did you know that this is a phenomenon? There are those who call it the tuning fork effect, which is when two people connect the same idea at the same time, almost as if they had been thinking at the same frequency.”

You chuckled and buried your head in his neck, letting go of his hand so you could hug him properly. He wrapped both arms around your waist and buried his head in your hair, willing to say nothing more for fear of ruining the moment. All the fears you had had were being buried with that contact, because now you had the certainty that what you felt was mutual.

You stayed like that for what felt like hours, just listening to the gentle beating of his heart and enjoying the sense of security that being in the man's arms made you feel.

"I really like you" you broke the silence, with a whisper, making him smile.

"I think the most logical step from here would be to ask you out on a date, no?" he muttered. You pulled away enough to look at him, but still leaving your arms around his shoulders.

“I don't want to have to wait. Let's go for a burger"

"Don't you prefer somewhere more... formal?"

"Leave formal places for proposals, handsome," you said in a playful voice, caressing his cheeks with your extended palm and he made a mental note that this Italian restaurant he was thinking of inviting you to would be the ideal place to ask you to take the next step, when the time was right. 

“I still have to take you on at least 6 dates, to be sure”

"Fuck the statistics, I don't need that burger to know I'm in love with you," you said and he grinned from ear to ear.

“I know a place with an excellent health label and organic food, it is a few streets from here”

"I follow you" you answered cheerfully "On one condition"

"Which?"

"Let me hold your hand," you asked softly and Reid wasted no time in fulfilling your wish, leading you to the restaurant that way.

And at the end of the night, when you stole a kiss from him, he couldn't have felt luckier.

[cokou]

—PAPERS?! A sequel

༄ ғᴀɴᴅᴏᴍ ➢ One Piece ༄ ғᴇᴀᴛᴜʀɪɴɢ ➢ Law x Fem!Reader ༄ ʀᴀᴛɪɴɢ ➢ NSFW // Smut // MDNI! ༄ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴅɪsᴄʟᴀɪᴍᴇʀ ➢ Doggy style, Teasing, Porn w/ Plot, Body worship, Argument (slight), name calling (good girl), Shit Writing, & Law doesn't know which one to do, you or his papers. ༄ ᴀ/ɴ ➢ Do not transfer my works to any other platforms // this is my only account, will not be cross posted to any other sites or apps! Also MDNI, NSFW Content ahead <3

—It had been a while since you've joined the heart pirates, upon you joining, you noticed that their captain was eyeing you. It almost felt like he was fucking you with his eyes.

It hadn't been long as well since you, and your captain, Law, had started dating.

Since then, not only have you received tons of gifts, but was also showered in love. He shows his love by giving you flowers, picking one from the bouquet he will give you, and keeping it in his office to know when to buy you another one.

That isn't all, but the way he shows his love for you on his bedroom, slowly teasing you and then doing God's work all over your body.

It felt like heaven. That was the only word to express it. Once or twice a week, he takes his loving time with your body, ensuring that no parts of you were left out. It happens in all places where he usually indulges in.

Just like his office, or maybe the Polar Tang's library, or if he just wants to ravage you do bad, it happens inside your shared bedroom.

You couldn't forget it all. The way his tongue laps all over your wet cunt and devouring you as long as he can, or maybe, the way his hips thrusts slow, yet so deep inside you, leaving you wanting for more.

He never fails to make you cum, no. He always makes sure that you've been pleasured before him.

But—, it felt different today, this week was almost ending, yet, Law hadn't payed much attention to you. He goes home much later, and lays down and drifts off on the couch instead of your shared bed.

You didn't pay attention as you thought that, this habit would leave. But God were you wrong. It has been a month, yet you still payed attention on how he slops down on the couch right after entering the door.

You had tried reaching out to him on the library, but he just gave you empty words such as, 'sorry' or 'i was busy'. It's not like you could ask Bepo or Penguin for help, it would feel like you're desperate.

It had been 3 weeks since then, yet he showed no change with his behavior. You were starting to think that he didn't love you anymore.

So the next day, you decided to try and end all of this bullshit he's doing, you waited for him to open the door and talk to him about his stupid behavior. You had faith that maybe you two would get to talk with each other and sort it out.

But now, you've been sitting at the couch for nearly 3 hours. You checked the clock, almost 3 am.

Suddenly, you heard the knob twist, followed by the door opening.

"I thought you decided to not go home, Law." You said in an annoyed tone.

He ignored you as he started to remove his coat and hanged it on the coat rack, you were thinking that maybe he didn't hear you, but your voice was well enough to be heard by the whole room.

"ehem, I'm talking to you."

"Sorry not right now I'm tired, Y/N." His excuses were lame.

"You're always tired. You don't even have time for me anymore!" You blurted in front of him as he placed everything on the ground, some of his papers spilling onto the floor.

"Let's not start this Y/N, I told you I'm tired." He faced you with a straight face then sat on the other side of the couch.

Although you didn't want to start a fight, his lack of attention to you is making you feel like a total shithead.

"Tired this, tired that, Make better excuses other than being actually 'tired'. It's not like you actually have to do everything in a day!" Now, you're actually starting to get annoyed.

He looked at you, now with a confused look.

"Sigh. Just because I don't need to do it all in a day doesn't mean that I'll let it sit on the desk everytime." "And, i don't wanna start this, let me have a brea—"

"A break for what? You want a break from me? So you're making it clear that you don't love me anymore?" You cut him off with a fast response.

His eyes shot awake and he turned to look at you right after you finished your sentence.

"Do you even know what you're saying right now?" He makes it clear just from his voice that he's starting to get annoyed.

"You know—, if you actually think that your works are more important than me, then maybe we should-"

He cut you off with a sudden kiss. You were shocked with his sudden reaction and you just leaned on the couches arm support to help yourself.

His kisses were always deep and passionate, it usually leaves you two a drooling mess. This one was no different than the others.

His hands grabbed on your waist, then onto your head.

"Have i not been giving you attention? Is that why you're all fucking needy?" He pulled away from you, his voice now sharp and it definitely showed no signs of tiredness.

You couldn't answer him as his words ringed inside your head. Once you finally found your self again, you gave him a simple nod.

"Use your words, Y/N-ya."

..."Yes."

"So i should give you want you wanted, right?"

Needless to say you two found yourselves on your shared bedroom, naked and fucking.

"This is what you wanted, am i right?"

Your ass was positioned up whilst your head was pushed onto a pillow cushion as he fucks his cock inside your pussy.

Finally, you thought. You had missed the feeling of him being inside your greedy cunt. Now, you're under him completely while he eearranges your guts.

"S'good.." you were mumbling incoherent words and moaning into the pillow. He stopped for a second and you felt him pull out of your cunt.

"Y/N-ya, I'll just get some papers i forgot to sign." He turned into the exit of the bedroom ass naked as you watched him pick up a pile of papers.

"You're seriously gonna stop just because of those? You could've done them after!" You shouted at him grom the bedroom to the living room.

Just a second later you saw him walking back into the bedroom eith a whole pile of papers on his hands.

And he, positions you back..?

"Be a good girl and hold yourself on position for me." He positions you with your ass up on the air and your head onto the pillow, your hands are gripping hard into the sheets you swore you could tear them.

You felt a cold pile resting on your back as he inserts his cock inside you once again. You didn't question him anything at all and waited for him to tell you what to do.

"And, don't you dare move. Okay?"

You gave him a thumbs up as he slowly thrusts inside you again with the cold pile on your back. He held your waists and you felt something writing on your back.

That was it! He was fucking using you as a table to sign his papers while fucking you! What a shithead! You felt him go harder and faster as you felt yourself near on edge.

"m'close.." you warned him as you felt yourself tipping over the edge.

"Come all over me." You did as he said and he followed not too long ahead. You rested yourself on the bed and turned to look at him.

He placed his papers on your stomach and gave you a kiss.

"Contented?" He asked you.

..."Yeah."

"You know i love you Y/N, never get that wrong again."

"Only if you're willing to show me!" You giggled as you felt a pen writing over your stomach.

"I'll make sure to never forget."

—In the end you fell asleep as he continued using your stomach as a table, it tickles.

©Cokou 2024, all works belong to me.

[noyzinerd]

More Than Just A Body (Swap)

Thinking about a post-body swap Sterek fic.

One that fully takes place after a body swap has already been reversed (like, a sequel to a non-existent fic--where they swapped bodies, had to live as the other, got switched back, yet didn't get together by the end--that's constantly alluded to, but we never actually get to read), so we only see the aftermath.

Derek is super irritated and snippy for days after they get back into their own bodies. Stiles thinks it's because Derek feels pissed and humiliated he had to relive to highschool with insufferable teenagers, be helplessly human and weak, and generally listen to authority again (his dad). It definitely bums Stiles out to think that Derek found living his life so deplorable that he's still angry about it. So now both of them are upset and sort of avoiding each other.

It isn't until two weeks later, when their stand-off is starting to effect pack business, that Stiles gets fed up and confronts Derek.

"What's your deal, man? You've been super shitty ever since we swapped back. It's been two weeks. How can you still be mad about living as me? What, was doing the dishes and being forced to write 5,000 words about the Louisiana Purchase seriously that terrible? Look, I'm sorry you had to deal with my stupid, tissue-paper body for so long, but you can't just-!"

And before you know it, Derek has him shoved up against a wall. He's still pissed, yeah, but, for some reason, he also looks...hurt and broken inside.

"Your body isn't stupid, Stiles! It was the best thing to happen to me in years!"

Stiles is stunned speechless. Derek's fingers are trembling around the grip he has in Stiles' shirt. There's so much pain in those green-blue eyes that it actually aches to look in them. It looks almost like grief.

Like Derek is in mourning.

Derek's not crying, but his eyes are definitely shinier as he continues, "You have no idea what you have, Stiles. What I had. For the first time since the worst fucking day of my life, I got to do normal things, like chores and sports. Not a single person expected anything of me o-or looked to me for answers. I didn't have to worry about fucking up and getting people killed, because the smartest guy I knew was taking care of my body like it was something precious. And all I had to do in return was live your beautiful, quiet life. A life where someone gently woke me up for school and nobody found me too intimidating to get close to.

"I got to know what it was like to be loved by a father again, Stiles! To say the words 'I love you, too, Dad' when I didn't think I'd ever get another chance. I-I got to be hugged and have people smile at me like they were glad to see me and I'd get to look in the mirror in the morning to the sweetest smile at the start of my day and hear your voice every time I talked. It was perfect." Somehow, Stiles has found his face streaked with tears even though the tears valiantly sticking to Derek's lashes still haven't fallen as his voice breaks over his words.

"A-and now? All I get to wake up to is me." The word is spit out with acid and venom. "I get to wake up alone in a cold, silent, empty, concrete room and look at a face in the mirror that makes me sick. I get to go back to my pathetic fucking life where I have to choose between literally fighting against an endless wave of people out to kill me or using my family's blood money to buy myself a microwavable dinner for the night. The only difference is that now...now I'm haunted by the feel of your fingers through my hair, your arms wrapped around me," at this, Stiles can feel his heart cracking apart at the thought of Derek using his body to simply hug himself, "y-your voice telling me that I'm going to be okay, and just-just the sight of your skin and your eyes and-and-I just, I can't, Stiles, I-I can't-!"

Stiles is clutching Derek so tight to him in an instant, tucking him into his neck and slowly lowering them to the ground as Derek collapses and sobs into him.

---

Once the tears are all dry, Stiles finally picks up the courage to be vulnerable too. He owes it to Derek.

At least it'll be easier now that he can't see the werewolf's reactions.

So, as he's stroking the other's hair, Stiles tells him about how he wishes Derek could see the man he fell in love with the way Stiles can.

He tells him about how he fell in love with a man whose heart is so big and full of kindness that he physically cannot stop himself from helping people, no matter how much he likes to pretend that he doesn't care.

The man he loves is powerful, resilient, and stronger than any one person has any right to be, yet so fragile as to be afraid of loving someone too much because he might be shattered.

The man Stiles loves is smart, sassy, thoughtful, stubborn, awkward, grumpy, sweet, and so so deserving of hugs and smiles and kisses and praise, because Derek is and has always been more than just a body.

Stiles tells him about how, during their swap, he made sure to take warm baths with nice smells, nap in cozy blankets, and massage his hands and feet with lotions because Stiles wanted to take care of Derek's body as much as he could while he got the chance. He did it because he wanted to help Derek and this was the only way he thought he could.

If there had been even the slightest indication that anything more would've been well received, Stiles would have already done it. All he wants is permission.

"Please...let me take care of you?"

---

So, slowly, day by day, Stiles enfolds Derek into a gentle life.

Stiles is Derek's strongest advocate, his extra set of hands to help carry his burdens, his pillow, his introduction to new things and new people.

They're always wrapped around each other, all the time, almost like Stiles is scared of Derek getting cold.

Despite the confession, things remain G-rated for a while. Cuddles, hand-holding, caresses, just touching. Shy kisses eventually make an appearance after some time, but they remain sweet, loving little things.

Stiles makes it perfectly clear that he's fine waiting to make a move until he's sure being intimate can't possibly be mistaken as anything else. He needs Derek to understand that this isn't obligation or pity. Stiles loves Derek. And Stiles is going to take his time because he wants Derek to feel loved beyond his body, no matter how long it takes.

By the time Derek feels whole again, now living with the Stilinskis and smiling softly as a default expression, they find themselves in front of the bathroom mirror having their first time together.

It's definitely not kinky. Mostly reverent, full of "It's okay, I'm right here", fingers laced tight together, flashing eyes, and a bit of emotional tears. It's gentle and assuring, with promises of never being alone again, and whispers of "so beautiful" and "so sweet" and "so perfect". Climax is rewarded with praises, hands stroking up arms and down backs, and "I love you"s are slurred through dropped fangs and traded back and forth between kisses

But as expected, finally having sex doesn't magically make Derek love himself. It's still a long road. Because even if Derek doesn't completely hate his life anymore, there are those hard days where he still has problems with 'being Derek'.

And maybe one day Derek will learn to love the body he lives in.

Until then, Stiles will just have to love it for him.

[1-800-hwahui]

match of the season

member — college student radio host!junhui x f student!reader genre  —  smut, fluff, humor word count — 7.3k warnings — virgin!jun, shy clueless jun, fr that man does not know a single thing but it's endearing in a silly way, top!reader bot!jun (but no real dom/sub dynamics, more like reader leads until jun figures out how to take over), unprotected sex, jun big cock agenda, VOICE KINK (listen. you all knew it was coming), so much dirty talk, lots of consent bc it is very sexy, riding, little bit of dry humping?, mentions of an iud/birth control, jun is implied taller than reader (maybe size kink but only if you take it that way), jeonghan cameo and he's a menace, lots of fluff at the end (but also kinda throughout), please lmk if i missed any warnings! notes — this is a nsfw sequel to a sfw fic on my main writing blog @junekissed called sounds of the season, which is part of my series of winter-themed fics! if you haven't already, i would highly recommend reading that before reading this, since the stories are pretty closely connected. thanks to @onlymingyus for reading over this for me <3 i hope you all enjoy this as much as you enjoyed the first part. also like i said in part 1 i have no idea how radio works so if it doesn't make sense just roll with it lmao

you’re just putting the last finishing touches on your final paper when your phone buzzes. you glance down, grinning when you see junhui’s name on the screen.

unable to hide the butterflies in your stomach, you press a button to accept the call. “hi, junnie.”

“oh! hi,” his voice plays through your speaker with a giggle. “hey, i like that. ‘junnie’. do you want a nickname? but your name is so pretty, i don’t wanna change it–”

“whatever you want is fine,” you say, trying to hold back a smile. god, he’s cute.

“okay. i’ll think about it. oh, wait, yeah!” he says suddenly, as if he’s just remembered why he’s calling. “jeonghan left town early this week so it’s just me in the studio today, and it’s our last show of the semester. so anyway, do you wanna come over?” he stops, stumbling over his words. “well, not like, come over come over, i mean, we can just hang out, i–”

“give me half an hour,” you laugh, endeared by his eagerness.

“yay!” he cheers, and you shake your head with a smile.

half an hour later, a text pops up on jun’s phone, alerting him that you’re waiting outside the building. he leaps out of his chair, an excited grin on his face as he flings open the door and dashes downstairs to let you in.

he’s out of breath by the time he reaches the communications lab door, leaning on the push bar to let you in. “sorry, forgot they locked it already,” he pants.

“it’s fine,” you giggle. “so… everyone else is gone?”

he nods. “yeah, mr. choi said as long as i don’t mess with anything he’ll let me close by myself, so they all left early for break.”

you smile and hold out your hand for him to take, and he beams, hastily grabbing your hand and lacing his fingers with yours.

he leads you up the stairs to the sound booth, squeezing your hand the whole way.

it’s your second time being in the school’s recording studio, but the feeling is still new and exciting. you definitely understand now what jun meant when he said being around all the equipment is a lot of fun.

once inside, he shuts the heavy door with a click, locking the door and flipping on the “on air” light. not that anyone could get in anyway, but it’s a habit he doesn’t want to accidentally get out of before he comes back next semester.

he slides in front of the computer for a second, queueing another song so he has more time to grab what he’s designated as “your chair”; the comfiest one in the studio, according to him.

he pulls it over next to his chair and pats the cushion for you to sit. you giggle and plop down on the seat, scooching closer to him once he’s sat in his own chair.

he raises his eyebrows at you with a grin, then clears his throat and moves closer to the microphone as the song ends to do his job.

ever since you accidentally admitted to him that you like the way his voice sounds, he’s teased you about it—or at least, attempted to tease you about it. he's too sweet for his own good, so even when he tries to poke fun at you it comes out like a compliment.

he presses the red button and begins to talk. “that was one of the classics, ‘a holly jolly christmas’ by burl ives. coming up next, another favorite, ‘the christmas song’ by michael bublé, and more great songs on your favorite program: 111.7fm’s sounds of the season.”

he lets go of the button and sits back in his chair, spinning it around to face you as the slow music starts softly playing. “hi,” he says shyly. “did you like that?”

you smile. it’s a little bit of an odd question, but you’ve started to understand his awkwardness; he just needs a little encouragement. “i always like it. you’re really good at this.”

“i like it a lot,” he grins back, bouncing his head in excitement. “can i kiss you now?”

you laugh at his enthusiasm but nod, leaning forward to press your lips to his. he sighs into your mouth, his hands falling naturally to your waist. for supposedly not going out much, jun is really, really good at kissing, you’ve quickly learned over the last few days. how he got so good at it, you may never know, but the feeling of him pressed against you is too perfect to waste time questioning why.

despite being surrounded by the cold, metal recording equipment, the sound of michael bublé’s crooning voice and the gentle warmth of junhui’s lips makes the studio feel like the coziest place on earth.

his hands tug at your waist and you slide easily out of your chair and onto his lap, sitting sideways across his legs, never breaking the kiss.

he pulls away for a second, his cheeks dusted with pink. “let me… put the playlist on,” he says, his voice a little breathier than usual. 

you hum in confusion, attention still focused on the curve of his lips and the little noises he makes when he’s kissing you. “what playlist?”

he laughs. “for the show. so we can keep doing… this, and not have to worry.”

“wait, so you mean, not all of it is live?”

he shakes his head. “almost all of it is, but there’s a backup playlist in case we get busy and can’t sit around pressing buttons for the whole hour. i used it a couple weeks ago when i had to finish my chem paper.”

he spins the chair around, facing you both in front of the computer screen and tapping a few buttons on the keyboard. he turns a dial on the soundboard and the background music in the studio gets lower, so quiet you need to strain to hear it.

he hums, and your attention turns away from the machinery and back to his eager smile.

“can i kiss you again?” he asks softly.

you giggle and put your hands around his neck. “you don’t have to ask every time.”

so he’s pushing his lips on yours again, kissing you like you’re the most delicate thing in the world.

and that’s when you feel it. the butterflies deep in your stomach that make you want to do things no person should be doing in a school building.

he pulls away for a second to catch his breath. “you’re so pretty,” he says dreamily, and you hate the way it immediately sends shivers down your spine, landing directly at your core. 

you hold back a whimper and shift the way you’re sitting, moving so each leg is on either side of his legs, straddling his lap.

he pushes his mouth against yours, hands gently kneading your hips. your fingers dance beneath the bottom of his shirt, fingernails gliding over the warm, soft skin of his stomach and feeling his abs contract at your touch.

“wait,” he whimpers, and you pull back immediately, taking your hands off of him and putting them on your thighs.

“do you want me to stop?” you ask quietly. shit, you hope you haven’t completely ruined this by going too fast.

“no!” he nearly shouts, looking panicked, then clears his throat. “no,” he repeats. “i don’t want you to stop. i’m, just…” he trails off, avoiding your gaze.

“you can tell me, junnie,” you say gingerly, wanting him to be comfortable.

“i know,” he whines. “i’m… embarrassed,” he says, voice small.

“i’m not going to laugh at you,” you say softly.

“i’m not– i haven’t–” he freezes. you give him a small smile that you hope looks encouraging, and it must be, because he sighs and starts again. “i’m a… virgin,” he says, barely above a whisper.

“oh! that’s all?” you ask, taking his hand and threading your fingers in between his. he looks up at you, trying (and failing) to hide the surprise in his expression. “you don’t need to be embarrassed. everybody has a first time.”

you pause, not wanting to force him into doing this if he really isn’t ready. you don’t care, you have plenty of ways of getting yourself off if he wants to wait longer. because you are willing to wait. “we don’t have to now, junnie,” you say. “i’ll wait as long as you want me to.”

“i want to now,” he says quickly, shaking his head. “i just… don’t know what to do,” he mumbles.

“that’s fine,” you whisper, bringing your other hand up to his face and kissing his cheek tenderly. “we’ll go slow, and you tell me what you want.”

he hesitates, then tentatively places his hands on your waist, still holding your hands. “i want to kiss you again.”

you smile. “i can do that.”

and you lean back in, pressing your lips to his. gently at first, until he grips your waist a little harder and starts kissing you a little deeper. you let him get used to it, allowing him to set the pace he wants.

testing the waters, you push down on his lap a little, starting to grind lightly on his crotch. he whimpers and tugs at your hips to help you, beginning to fall into a steady rhythm. 

you stay like this for a while, leisurely making out on his lap, for longer than you normally would with someone else. but this isn’t someone else, this is junhui, and you’re more than content going as slow as he wants. plus, all this is just making you wetter and wetter as time goes on, riling you up the more you think about what’s to come later.

you can feel him getting harder underneath you, and you moan into him, eagerly but patiently waiting for him. his hands climb up your back, hooking around your shoulders and pulling you almost completely flush with his chest.

he pulls away after a minute, lips red and puffy from the contact and breathing hard. “don’t– you need a c-condom, when… so you, don’t get pregnant?” he stutters out, struggling to get the words out and to stop from bucking his hips against you.

“i have an iud, it’s alright,” you say, also panting for breath.

“okay.” he exhales and leans back, letting go of your hips.

you look at him in confusion at his sudden pause. “why…?”

he stares at you. “uh, don’t you have to go put it in? or did you do that before you got here?”

you snort. “my iud? no, it’s in all the time. it doesn’t come out.” 

“oh,” he says, his cheeks flushing pink. “sorry, i didn’t know–”

“it’s okay, junnie. don’t apologize,” you say, trying your hardest to hold back a laugh. poor sweet, oblivious junhui. you’re not laughing at him, you’re laughing at how adorably clueless he is. you find yourself hoping you might be the one to help him understand these things, if he wants you to.

“have you… before?” he asks shyly, avoiding your eyes again.

you pause, knowing he’s already embarrassed and trying to answer him as gently as possible. “yes,” you say finally, and his face droops a little at your response. “but that doesn’t mean anything. it’s my first time with you, too, so we’re learning about each other. that’s all it is. so just… don’t think about it, okay? the only thing i’m thinking about right now is you.”

his cheeks are a deep shade of pink, but he nods. you take his hands carefully and put them at the hem of your shirt, guiding him to pull it up and over your head. you unclasp your bra and turn around to toss it over to your chair.

“now your turn,” you say gently, looking up at his eyes, which are still focused on your boobs.

“ju-un,” you murmur in a sing-song voice, and his eyes snap back to your face. “do you want to keep going?” 

“yeah,” he chokes out. “i mean– yes. yes, please.”

you coo at his manners, moving off of his lap to wiggle your pants down your legs. his eyes are completely transfixed on your body, admiring every inch of you that he can see.

“do you want to now?” you ask, and he nods rapidly. he stands up and throws his shirt off, and his pants are quick to follow until he’s sitting back in his chair in only his boxers. the lines of his stomach seem even more defined in the low light of the studio, and you so desperately want to run your hands up and down his torso, and feel every inch of him, but– one thing at a time.

you slide your panties off and go back to your position straddling his lap. “is this okay?” you ask again.

“mhm,” he hums lowly, and you feel it deep in your abdomen, walls clenching around nothing at the sound.

his eyes dart around your face, and you reach up to run your fingers through his hair, tucking it gently behind his ear. “are you ready?” you ask softly.

his eyes widen, and he springs into action, his hands flying to your waist again. “oh! okay, yes, yes, um…”

you try not to giggle at his enthusiasm. you trail your hand carefully down to the waistband of his shorts, slipping the tip of your finger inside the elastic. “you have to take this off, junnie,” you whisper.

“mm, okay,” he whines, and you lift up a little so he can slide them down without standing up. he kicks them off and you sit back down, looking down to see what you’re working with. now that he’s fully hard, you can see that he’s… big, much bigger than you expected from a man this shy.

but who are you to judge, so you adjust on his lap, sitting up to reach below you and take his cock in your hand, positioning it at your entrance. he whimpers at the contact as you slowly drag his tip through your folds, spreading your wetness around. 

“you just sit here and let me do all the work, baby, okay?” you hum, gripping his shoulder with your other hand. “let me make you feel good, hm?”

he lets out a garbled noise in response, barely comprehending your words at how engrossed he is with the way you’re holding his cock so delicately, waiting to push it inside and finally feel you.

“junnie, need you to use your words, honey,” you say gently, moving the hand on his shoulder to lightly cup his jaw, lifting his chin so his gaze lands on your face. “you have to tell me if you don’t like something or you wanna do something different, okay?

“i wanna do you,” he says, staring blankly into your eyes, and that’s when you know he’s already gone.

you giggle. “i know, baby. you’re going to. but you have to talk to me.”

“‘cause you like my voice.”

you resist the urge to cringe, still embarrassed that that’s the thing he remembers about you. “yes, i do, but no, that's not why. you need to tell me if you want to stop, at any time, and we’ll stop, okay?”

hearing your tone get serious, he seems to snap out of it a little. “okay,” he whimpers. “can i…?”

he trails off, and you shake your head. you know he’s shy, but you can’t let him off the hook every single time, or else he’ll never learn. “can you what, honey? use your words.”

by now the tips of his ears have turned red, and he’s beginning to lose control, his hips starting to grind against you involuntarily. “can i… fuck you?” he rasps.

“of course you can,” you coo, slipping your hand behind his neck and kissing him gently. “good job, baby.”

he mewls at the praise, and you finally start to sink down on his cock. it burns at first with how girthy he is, but soon the stretch feels good, and you have to fight to keep yourself upright on his lap, soft whimpers escaping your lips.

he groans, throwing his head back against the back of his chair, his grip on your waist tightening. it takes some time, but you finally sit all the way down on his lap, legs splayed on either side of his hips.

immediately he thrusts up into you hard, and you yelp, pushing on his shoulders to get him to stop. “wait!” you pant, squeezing your eyes shut in pain. “just… wait a second first.”

“s-sorry,” he whines, his adam’s apple bobbing with each labored breath.

“s’okay,” you breathe, beginning to adjust to the feeling of his thick cock throbbing inside you. “you’re… big, gotta– gotta give me a second, oh my god.”

he hums absently, clearly pleased with your response, but he manages to stop moving for a little bit.

you sit still on top of him, your muscles gradually beginning to relax as you get used to the feeling.

he sighs, his hands sliding up your back, caressing your skin beneath his fingertips.  “feels so good, just wanna… fuck, just wanna be inside you forever.”

you would be surprised at the sudden lewdness of his words, if you weren’t so focused on the way the tone of his voice has abruptly dropped an octave. he’s starting to get more comfortable, you can tell, and you won’t lie: it’s dangerous for you.

“can– are you okay now?” he asks, eyes focused back on your face again.

“mhm,” you manage, letting out a short exhale. you start to wind your hips in circles, bouncing slowly on his lap as his hands roam your body, touching every inch of you as if he’s trying to memorize every last curve.

it’s a gentle pace; although much too slow for you, you’re hoping it’s just right for junhui to start out with. you’re not used to being on top, so you’re doing your best to keep up, but your thigh is starting to cramp from the position you’ve been sitting in and having to do the work yourself.

he must notice your discomfort, because his hands fall back down to their place at your waist, kneading your skin as he lifts his hips against you in rhythm.

“can i take over?” he mumbles, voice breathy. “please, let me, please.”

“yes, please,” you sigh, your head falling forward to rest on his chest. his skin is burning hot beneath your cheek, and you exhale, closing your eyes from exhaustion.

as soon as you relax and stop moving your hips, his own start moving immediately, your surprised cry punctuated by hard thrusts up into you, over and over again.

you’re still trying to figure out where the hell he got all this stamina from when he starts murmuring in your ear, sweet, dirty whispers as he pounds into you from below.

“you’re so… beautiful, oh my god,” he says in the low voice you’re still struggling to get used to hearing come out of his mouth. “you’re so good, wanna have you like this forever, please–”

“jun, ke–keep talking, please,” you whimper, squeezing your eyes shut in pleasure.

“you like my voice, but you sound so pretty right now,” he groans. “you should hear yourself. wanna hear you cry and make you feel so good, wanna hear you– god, wanna fuck you like this all day and never stop.”

you let out a moan, his words going straight through you. the rumble in his chest as he speaks reverberates against your head. 

the combination of his brutal pace along with the innocently filthy words from his mouth brings you right up to the edge, and you feel the knot in your abdomen tightening.

you shift a little, moving up so you can wrap your arms around his neck, hiding your face in the crook of his neck.

his hips falter for half a second at the contact, but he recovers quickly, wrapping his long arms around you and pressing you flush against his chest, jerking you up and down on his cock with fervor.

“you’re so pretty, you’re so beautiful, you’re so perfect,” he babbles, somehow remembering to keep talking you through everything. “love you so much– fuck, thank you, you’re so amazing, you’re so–”

you almost miss the four-letter word that slips out in between his praises, but it rings through your ears, nestling itself in your heart. you decide to ignore it for now, too focused on chasing your rapidly approaching high, but you promise yourself you’ll talk to him after this is all over and figure out what this is between you two.

you whine, breath catching in your throat as your own words tumble out of you in a constant stream. “keep going, jun, please– keep going, so close, please, junnie please, need you–”

“are you gonna cum? you’re so perfect, please cum for me, please, baby, lemme hear you.”

“fuck, yes!” and with that you’re catapulting over the edge with a sob, clenching around his cock as your orgasm slams into you.

he keeps thrusting into you, not once stuttering as he fucks you through your high, content to keep going and going and going until–

“jun,” you call out weakly, head swirling as you try to sit up. “jun. jun, you can s-slow down.”

his hips begin to stop, slowing down until he’s gently rocking you back and forth on his lap. “did you cum already?” he asks in surprise. like a dork.

you choke out a laugh, head lolling as your arms loosen around his neck. “yeah. yeah, i did.”

“oh.”

if you weren’t so exhausted already, you would burst out laughing. “you’ll figure it out,” you wheeze, hoping it sounds reassuring. 

he starts to move his arms to let go of you, still wrapped around your torso, but you whine and he freezes.

“just… stay here first,” you say, letting your eyes fall shut for a second.

“why?”

you sigh. “because it’s nice.”

“oh,” he says again. he settles back into the chair, holding you on his lap, arms wrapped around you, just sitting quietly.

after a few more seconds of peace you pull yourself upright, pushing your hands against his chest.

“ …what now?” he asks quietly, eyes finding your face.

“you didn’t cum yet, right?” you say. he hums out a no. “then we keep going.”

he yelps in surprise when you start to lift yourself off his lap, his still-hard cock slipping out of you, now soaked in your juices. “don’t we have to wait for you?”

you fight the urge to slap your hand over your forehead. “i can cum more than once, honey. we don’t need to wait,” you say with the straightest face you can muster.

he nods, taking in this clearly unheard of information.

“do you want me to suck you off?” you ask, bringing his attention back to you.

“wh-what?” he stutters, face turning red, clearly not expecting it.

you take in a deep breath. “where do you want to finish?” you try instead, thinking it might help him decide.

“where will you let me?” he replies, wide eyes searching yours as if it’s a trick question designed to make him fail and you’re hiding the answer somewhere in your tender gaze.

“wherever you want, junnie.”

he pauses, like he’s making sure you aren’t lying to him. “can–” he clears his throat and starts again, more sure of himself. “i have an, um… idea.”

“mhm,” you breathe, watching him expectantly.

“do you think i could, maybe… stand up? and, have– you, over the…” he trails off, gesturing to the empty table beside you and hoping you’ll understand what he’s trying to say.

“you want to bend me over and fuck me on the table?” you translate for him, blinking.

instantly his cheeks flare, the shyness returning. “well, i… i. no, um, uh–”

“you can say yes, junnie. it’s hot.”

“you think so?” he squeaks in shock.

you giggle. “yes. you can do whatever you want to, just ask me first.”

his face breaks out into a wide grin. “okay. will you please, um, follow me?” he asks, holding out his arm like a waiter leading you to a table at a restaurant. if he wasn’t so damn cute you definitely would’ve smacked him by now.

you finally move off of his lap and step away, giving him room to move from his chair. you’d forgotten how big he is until he stands up, towering over you, and it sends an involuntary shiver down your spine. he turns and starts walking away, expecting you to follow him.

you laugh and grab his arm, pulling him back. when he looks at you in curiosity, you take his large hands and place them on your waist, motioning for him to guide you.

his mouth falls into an ‘o’ and he follows your lead, pushing you by your hips over to the table.

he stands behind you, caging you in against the table with his tall frame but otherwise not doing anything. you glance over your shoulder at him, nodding in approval.

his hands leave your waist and ever so gently press on your lower back to tilt you over. you comply, letting him move you how he wants.

“is that good?” he asks softly.

“it’s great,” you say, wiggling your ass playfully. “good job asking.”

he hums, so low it’s more like a growl, and it sends another shiver down your spine. at this angle you can feel his dick pressed against your ass, hard and throbbing.

he grinds against you, dragging his cock up and down your hole. you know he’s not doing it intentionally to tease you—you’re not even sure if he’s capable of that—but it does plenty to rile you up.

“junnie, please?” you gasp out, writhing your hips in search of friction, anything. his grip tightens on you, stilling your movements.

“what do i do?” he whispers.

“put it in,” you whisper back, unable to stop the giggle that slips out. he whines in annoyance, so you stop, giving him real advice this time. “just go slow. you can do it, baby.”

you angle your ass up, hoping to give him better access to your dripping hole. he’s already been inside you once, so surely he can find it again… right?

your expectations are clearly too high, because suddenly you feel his tip pressing in between your ass cheeks, and he’s—

you yelp, and he freezes, his hands flying off of you. you reach behind and stick your index finger into your pussy, using the rest of your fingers to spread your folds apart so he can see. “this one, baby.” at least he was going slow, like you said.

“oh! sorry, i’m so sorry,” he mumbles, and even without looking you already know he’s redder than a tomato. 

“jun. don’t apologize. it’s okay,” you say softly. you move your hand away from your pussy and reach it out to him, craning your neck to see him. you wave your fingers at him, and he takes your hand, automatically twining his fingers with yours. it makes you smile. “just go for it, honey.”

“okay,” he breathes, and he starts slowly pushing into you again (the right one this time).

tiny gasps fall from your lips as you feel him fill you up again, stuffing you with his cock, inch by careful inch. once he bottoms out you exhale, letting out the breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding in.

when you don’t feel any more movement, you realize he’s stopped, waiting. you almost whine at how cute and considerate he is, but instead you just squeeze his hand. “baby, you can move.”

“okay,” he says again, and pulls out carefully before slowly pushing back in.

you moan as he starts to increase his pace, rapidly pumping into you as his hips smack against your ass. you arch your back a little, trying to angle him in deeper. each powerful thrust pushes you against the table, your hip bones hitting the edge in a way that’ll definitely leave bruises. but you can’t bring yourself to care when junhui’s thick cock is thrusting into you like his life depends on it. 

still holding onto his hand, you slip your other hand down to run your fingers over your clit, rubbing small circles. you can feel the pressure in your abdomen growing, and—

“fuck, you’re so tight,” jun groans, voice thick with need, and he begins pushing into you even harder than before, something you didn’t even think could be possible. you whine and move your hand from your clit back to the edge of the table to stop yourself from ramming into it.

he notices your elbow bent at an awkward angle to protect yourself, so he lets go of your hand and snakes around your stomach to pull you back so you’re standing upright, both his arms wrapped securely around your body. “feels so good… god, wish i had done this sooner, you’re so amazing, so perfect, for me.”

you whimper at his words, unintentionally clenching around him. “jun,” you cry out softly.

“fuck, baby, say my name again– please, like that, baby, please say it, again,” he begs you, fingers pressing into your skin that you’re sure will leave you covered in little oval-shaped bruises by the time he’s done.

“jun! please, i’m so close, jun,” you moan, repeating his name over and over again like a mantra, getting closer and closer to your release with each syllable.

“i’m cl-close too, baby, please… you’re so good, fuck! you’re so good.”

the constant praise is almost too much, and with one more sharp thrust you’re coming undone on his cock for the second time. your legs wobble as you struggle to stay standing, your hands coming up to hang on to junhui’s strong arms wrapped around you for support.

he whines loudly, and you know he must be getting close, too. “can i– can i cum on your back?” he pants out, still gripping you tightly. as much as he really, really wants to cum inside you, he figures it might be messier than cumming on you. and besides, he doesn’t want to get too greedy; it is only his first, after all.

“yes! yes please, yes, jun,” you manage, still wading through the aftershocks of your orgasm.

a little harder than he intends, he’s shoving you roughly down onto the table again, pulling his dick out of you to jerk himself over you.

“junnie, please,” you whimper out weakly, and the sweet sounding words on your lips have him choking back a sob as he cums, thick spurts of white painting your lower back.

he keeps moving his hand on his cock until he’s completely finished, panting heavily. by the time he’s done you’re both sticky with sweat, breathing like you’ve just run a marathon.

you let out a long sigh, feeling exhausted but satisfied. silence settles over the studio, the music long stopped, but you can’t tell if it’s a good silence or a bad silence.

you realize you’d closed your eyes while jun was cumming, and when you don’t feel his touch anymore, you slowly pry them open again, wondering where he went. 

you prop your head up in your hands and look behind you to see jun hastily pulling on his boxers and jeans. 

your jaw drops in horror. you’d thought, with his inexperience, he wouldn’t be like all the other guys who fuck and then take off, but apparently, you thought wrong.

“jun!”

his head whips around as he pulls his zipper up, eyes wide like a deer in headlights.

“are you seriously gonna just leave?”

his mouth falls open. “no! of course not! i was just putting my pants back on.”

your expression softens. “oh,” you say quietly, face flushing at having jumped to conclusions so quickly. “sorry.”

“why would i wanna leave after this?” he frowns, looking genuinely appalled at the mere idea that someone might do that. “you’re still here.”

“i thought, since–” you start, then pause. discussion for another time. “nevermind, it’s not important. but why were you putting your pants on like you were gonna leave?”

you’re the one feeling embarrassed, but it’s junhui that turns red and starts stuttering. “well, i– um, i didn’t want you to… see…”

you laugh and put your head back in your arms. when you don’t say anything, he calls out your name nervously, and you look back over at him.

“junnie, your dick was just in me. twice. i don’t care what it looks like.”

“okay,” he says shyly, but his fingers still fumble with the button of his jeans.

you sigh once he finishes adjusting his pants. whatever makes him more comfortable, you suppose. “jun, can you… help me clean up now, please?” you ask timidly.

he glances over at you, looking like he’s about to ask why you need help, but then he sees you still bent awkwardly over the table and his cum still covering your back, and his eyes widen. “oh! shit, yeah– yes, i’m so sorry, i will–” he stammers, almost tripping over his backpack in his hurry to go get a tissue from the box by the door.

you sigh, more exhausted than mad, knowing you can’t really fault him. he comes back over a second later, gripping a wadded-up handful of tissues.

he drops them on your back and begins wiping at your skin, gingerly cleaning you off. when he’s satisfied with his work, he balls up the tissues and tosses them into the small can by the door.

“oh!” he says, realizing. “i think we have antibacterial wipes in here too, do you want me to use one of those? er, wait, i don’t know if they’re safe for skin…”

with your back (mostly) clean again, you stand up, wincing at the ache in your hips. “it’s fine, don’t worry about it. i’ll shower when i get home.”

you limp over to your chair, picking up your clothes and sitting down to start getting dressed again.

when jun finishes pulling his shirt over his head and looks over at you he gasps, seeing the bruises across your hips and tummy. “holy shit! did i do that?” he asks, looking horrified, and you look down to check.

“oh. yeah, that and the table,” you shrug, hooking your bra behind your back.

“i’m sorry,” he says, voice quivering, and he genuinely looks like he’s about to cry until you convince him you’re alright and he didn’t do anything wrong.

“it’s not supposed to hurt, though, i thought,” he frowns. “i don’t want to hurt you. i lo– um, like you,” he says, “why would i want to hurt you?” he catches himself quickly, but you heard what he started to say. you decide now isn’t the best moment for you to bring it up, so you leave it alone.

“sometimes people like it when it hurts. sometimes people like it not to hurt. everybody’s different,” you tell him instead.

he nods, thinking. “i… liked this,” he says finally.

you smile, finishing putting the last of your clothes back on. “good, i’m glad. you’re supposed to enjoy it.”

“did… you like it?” he asks tentatively.

“yes, i did like it,” you giggle, and he beams, clearly proud of himself. and he should be. obviously it wasn’t the most perfect of your life, but when is it ever? it was close enough to perfect that it might as well be.

“you live on campus, right? so i don’t need to walk you to your car?” he asks, grabbing his jacket that somehow fell on the floor and tossing it onto his chair as he starts to shut everything down in the studio.

you sigh. damn, you’d forgot about this part. sure, a couple hours ago you could walk just fine to the communications building on the complete opposite side of campus, but you hadn’t planned on getting railed within an inch of your life so you hadn’t exactly thought to bring your car. “yeah, but i… it’s on the south end, and i probably won’t be able to walk very far,” you mumble, avoiding his gaze. “i’ll take the shuttle.”

he frowns. “i’m not gonna let you take the bus. i can give you a ride.”

“you don’t need to, jun.”

“yes, i do,” he says assertively, and it startles you enough to meet his eyes. you haven’t ever heard his voice that firm, and when you look up his expression is as equally determined as his tone. not that you’d ever admit it to him, but it is kind of… hot.

you decide not to argue with him, knowing you won’t be able to change his mind anyway. you nod an ‘okay’, and his face instantly brightens to the awkward, nerdy jun you’re used to, beaming like he did when you first agreed to another date, back in the café what feels like ages ago.

“are you doing anything tonight?” you ask, watching him shut down the equipment and turn all the knobs and dials to an off position.

“no. i mean, i was gonna catch up on my show, but then, i didn’t expect for… this, to happen, so…” he shrugs. “i don’t know.”

“do you wanna come over? i… i mean, not to do anything. just… wanna be with you.” your voice comes out smaller than you intend it to, but jun still hears you loud and clear.

“yeah,” he grins. “yeah, that would be really cool.”

he pauses, looking like he wants to ask you something but not sure if he should. “can i give you a hug?” he says finally.

you smile. only junhui would ask for something as small and sweet as a hug after having sex. “yes, please.”

he crosses the room in two strides, barely giving you time to process before he’s squeezing you in his arms. you sigh and automatically melt into his arms, inhaling the perfumey scent of his cologne lingering on his wrinkled clothes.

it feels… good, being cared about.

he finishes shutting everything down quickly and grabs his things, swinging his backpack over his shoulder as he flips off the lights and closes the door behind you, making sure it’s locked before heading down the stairs.

you hate the way your legs tremble going down the steps, cursing him for being so good at his first time, because who the hell is that good their first time? already at the bottom of the stairs, jun looks back to see where you are and why you aren’t beside him, and, seeing you gripping onto the side railing for support, he dashes back up the steps two at a time to grab your arm and help you.

“you weren’t kidding when you said you couldn’t walk,” he giggles, holding the door open for you, and oh my god you want to hit him. “does that always happen? i thought people always just made that up to sound cool.”

“yes, i wasn’t kidding, and no, it doesn’t always,” you mutter, face heating in embarrassment. “depends on the person and how rough it is.”

his smile widens, the implied meaning of your words sinking in. “so what you’re saying is, my di–”

“junnie, if you finish that sentence, i swear to god i will never have sex with you ever again.”

he giggles, but he shuts his mouth, helping you the rest of the way to his car in silence. this time you know for sure, it’s a good silence.

his car is nicer than you’d expect a man’s car to be: clean and fairly organized, and there’s no half-eaten fast food in the backseat. he swings open the door for you and tries to help you sit down, but you swat his hand away.

he jogs around to the driver side door and slides into the seat, slamming it shut behind him. he buckles up, then grabs a candy cane from the pile in the cupholder and holds it out to you. “candy cane?”

“i’m… good,” you laugh, forcing yourself not to make a joke about having better things to suck on. why does he even have those in his car?

the ride to your apartment complex is pleasant. as expected from the radio man himself, as soon as the key is in the ignition, he turns the radio on, humming along to every song. you find yourself spending most of the drive staring at him, studying the tiny features in his cheeks when he smiles and the way his adam’s apple bobs when he hums.

after a shower, clean pajamas, and a raid of your refrigerator for snacks and something to drink, you’re snuggled up on the couch with jun, catching up on the show he wanted to watch. it’s the middle of some random season and you have no idea what’s going on, but you don’t care. just being here with him is more than enough for you, and you’re glad he’s enjoying being here, too.

“do you have a voice kink?” he asks suddenly at one of the commercials.

you nearly choke on your gatorade. “i– well, i mean… i didn’t used to, but…” you sputter out, your cheeks burning in embarrassment. “where did you even hear that?”

“jeonghan said you might.”

you scoff. you still haven’t met junhui’s broadcasting partner yet, but you already have some choice words in mind for him when you do finally get to have the pleasure of meeting him. “well, tell him to keep his thoughts to himself,” you say, taking another smaller sip and avoiding his grin.

“so is that a yes?”

you roll your eyes and ignore him, which might as well be a yes, but you choose not to admit it. you know you definitely need to talk to him about… everything, but he seems so happy right now, you don’t want to risk ruining the evening.

but luckily for you, he brings it up himself at the next commercial break.

“how long do i have to wait until i can ask you to be my girlfriend?” he says, muting the tv and looking over at you.

you laugh. “were we not… already?” you ask. “we’ve been on, like, four dates. usually that part happens before you have sex.”

he looks a little disappointed, for some reason. not exactly the reaction you’d expect when someone tells you they want to keep seeing you. “oh. um, well…” he starts, scratching at the back of his neck. “i planned it all out, i was gonna do this big thing and ask you. i thought i was supposed to. i meant to do it earlier, but…” he trails off, cheeks turning pink.

your expression softens. “you… can ask me now,” you say, putting your hand on his thigh.

“okay.” he clears his throat, sitting up straighter on the couch. “will you be my girlfriend?”

you try not to laugh at how serious he is, knowing he’s really, really trying. “yes, of course,” you reply, trying to match his seriousness.

“is that okay? that i didn’t do it right?” he asks nervously, fiddling with the hem of the blanket covering your laps.

you smile and bring your hand up to his cheek, pulling him towards you to give him a quick kiss. “you did it perfect, junnie.”

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[tenpintsof-sundrop]

I really really hate to be that person - especially because I know a lot of people are under the impression that fanfic authors are greedy and we should be grateful for any comments we get, even if those comments are full of unauthorized concrit, even if they're kind of rude, even if they're weirdly self-shaming (sometimes insinuating that people should feel bad over reading the dark or smutty content in the fics or that we should feel bad for writing it in the first place even though you're also reading it??).

But like, lately, I have been getting so many comments along the lines of "this fic should be longer!!" "I wish this was a series!!" "please turn this into a series!" "I would read endless sequels of this!!!" - today someone literally commented on one of my fics saying that it was a war crime that the fic was 30k instead of being 'a whole series'. And I totally understand the mindset that if something is good, you want more of it. If you enjoy something, you want more of it. But these comments are definitely not as flattering as people think they are.

When reading those comments - it doesn't always come off as a compliment. Most of my fics range from 5k to 30k on average, and they are usually oneshots or oneshots that I have split into multiple parts in order to be more readable - most of my longer, ongoing series are abandoned because I didn't have the steam to maintain them. (Most people don't know at all how hard it is to write a good, coherent, well-plotted 100k fic and actually keep up with it.) After I post the fic I have written later this week, I will have written over 400k this year alone, with my entire AO3 having over one million words split between 79 different fics.

So often, having people look at my fics and having their only comment be to 'write more' - feels like an insult. Because I do write more. I have written more. I write consistently. (It just sucks that people have almost nothing to say about what I have already written.)

Having people look at my fics - usually very long fics - and go "hey, this would be better if it was longer!!" or "hey, that was good, but the only productive thing I have to say about it is: make it longer" - it always feels very discouraging.

It doesn't make me want to rush to write more of that fic. In fact, most of the time, I actively avoid working on sequels to fics where the only comments are 'more please' because I know the only thing people will say about the sequel is 'when are you gonna make more?' - and oftentimes, I don't intend to make more.

I have said this in another post, but the ending to my fics are always intentional. I don't write fics with the mindset of turning them into a 100 part series. I write fics with the mindset of making them like a film or a short TV series - telling a capsule of a story with a very intentional beginning, middle, and end. And if I write a sequel, it's because I feel there is more to be told - but I will also cap off that sequel with a very intentional ending.

(Also, don't get me started on the complex of - if fics don't have the classic 'happy ending' people feel like every single thread needs to be resolved until it gets to a more classic happy ending, when I love writing intentional melancholic and thoughtful endings.)

Also - in general, I feel like people don't understand how much work goes into a fic. It might take you about 2 hours to read a fic that's 30k (and a lot of people who are avid readers probably read faster than that, reading it in an hour or less) - but concepting that fic, writing that fic, and meticulously editing that fic so that it can be readable and pleasant for people takes upwards of 20 hours of work. I would say realistically, upwards of 30 hours. And those are just working hours - hours sitting at the computer actively working. That doesn't include the time spent in between workshopping the ideas in my head while I am doing other mundane tasks in life.

It's very, very easy to consume a 30k oneshot in one sitting and then hold out your plate and go "more please!!" without putting any thought into how much work went into the original fic.

All of this just to say - please think about these things next time you are commenting on a fic (or even closing a fic without commenting at all), or doing something stupid like generating a fic with AI - which steals from everyday hard working fanfic writers. Fanfiction is hard work - it's a labour of love, and it shouldn't be about blind consumerism where you finish one and then rapidly start looking for the next one. You should appreciate each one like a good, hand pulled taffy instead of gobbling them all down like cheap candy mass made by factory machines.

Yeah - I think that's it.

-your local over worked (but still passionate) fanfic writer

[epicbuddieficrecs]

Weekly Recap | August 19th-25th 2024

Have a wonderful week! I hope you enjoy this rec!

Complete

don't let go by honestlydarkprincess/ @honestlydarkprincess (Getting Together | <1K | Teen): Buck and Eddie get home after a long shift and decide to take a nap. for the prompt: accidental pet names

in the crystalline knowledge of you by bleakmonday/ @bleakmonday-writes (Post-BuckTommy Break-Up, Love Confessions | 1,5K | Teen): Eddie barges in and tells Buck how he feels and they cry about it. That's it, that's the fic.

Come on Sweetheart, Let's Adore One Another by giselleslash/ @gigi-gigi (Established Buddie, Fluff | 1,6K | Mature): When Buck and Eddie start dating Buck finds out a surprise about Eddie that delights the hell out of him. (or the one where Eddie’s soft, romantic little heart loves being called pet names.)

Shouting Under My Breath by carpediaz/ @sofa-king-lame (Jealous Eddie, Getting Together | 2K | Teen): The one where a guy hits on Buck in a bar and Eddie gets jealous. Turns out, Buck really likes it when Eddie is jealous.

call your girlfriend by bleakmonday/ @bleakmonday-writes (S5, Love Confessions | 2,6K | Teen): Buck is at a loss, so he calls Maddie. “Eddie… told me we were getting married.” The silence is damning. “…You wanna run that by me again?" - Or: When Taylor tells Buck she loves him, Buck tells Eddie about it. And Eddie? Well, he goes right for the jugular.

leave it out there, no regrets by Maira/ @carrierofthepaperclips (Post-S7, Love Confessions | 3K | Teen): Or, the one where Buck is completely oblivious to Eddie declaring his love, and Eddie (briefly) contemplates leaving the country forever because of it.

we'll try and we'll succeed by honestlydarkprincess/ @honestlydarkprincess (Post-S7, Getting Together | 3K | Teen): Buck comes out to Chris and it helps him realize who he wants to be with.

we should make a verbal agreement to only kiss each other by bleakmonday/ @bleakmonday-writes (Secret Marriage | 4K | Teen): “Who the hell did he marry? Everyone he knows works here! He’d have to marry one of us!” The whole room goes still as they process that. “God, could you imagine?” - Five times a member of the 118 imagines being married to Buck, plus one time one of them lives it. (sequel to call your girlfriend)

I Am What I Am Cause You Trained Me by I_still_dont_understand_13/ @dangerpronebuddie (Post-S7 | 5K | Mature): "So it's all my fault Christopher’s first instinct is to run?" Eddie protests. “And Shannon's?” "Eddie, you enlisted," Helena says gently, but there's nothing gentle about it. "And Shannon ran off to LA," Ramon adds, oh so helpfully. "And I was ten years old when you told me to step up and be the man of the house because you weren't around," Eddie says, jabbing a finger towards Ramon. Ramon does at least look a little guilty about it. Helena, as always, is undeterred. "He was angry at you, Eddie. He needed his space." "Which I was giving him," Eddie hisses. "You didn't have to take him away for him to get a little space or time or whatever he needed." "He asked us to come get him," Helena reasons. Buck, who'd been quiet so far, steps beside Eddie and speaks, his shoulder brushing Eddie's in silent reassurance. "And you didn't think to at least consider trying to mediate first?"

No Regrets by Inell/ @inell (Post-S7, Getting Together, PWP | 5K | Explicit): Buck and Eddie’s relationship changes with an impulsive kiss during a rerun of Chopped. It’s now a few hours later, and Buck wants to make sure that Eddie doesn’t have any regrets.

love is stored in the picnic basket by bucksclipboard/ @excuseme-greentea (Getting Together | 5K | Teen): Buck participates in the 118’s basket bidding on Valentine’s Day and things go exactly as (Bobby) planned. When Eddie is done standing on the sidelines, he makes the grand gesture Buck has been dreaming of. or: buck’s heart (um, picnic basket) is up for auction and eddie is ready to pay

The Way to a Man’s Heart by Inell/ @inell (Post-S7, Getting Together | 5K | Teen): When Eddie texts Buck to ask him over for dinner, Buck thinks something odd is going on, but nothing prepares him for what Eddie has planned.

the best of me (are just the pieces of the best of you) by justhockey (Post-S7, Getting Together | 6K | General): It was a slow, aching, gruelling process, like re-breaking every one of your bones just to set them back in the right place. But Buck got to watch as Eddie slowly came back to life. There’d still been the whole moustache debacle, though. Which, thankfully, hadn’t lasted beyond the first facetime call with Chris, where he’d actually hung up in disgust and texted Eddie a single sentence: get rid of it. They don’t talk about that brief lapse in judgment anymore.

wanna do a bad thing twice by coldbam/ @coldbam (Cheating Buck, Buddie Endgame | 7K | Explicit): Eddie gets another new friend. History repeats itself.

this could be the year for the real thing by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon Divergent, Maddie/Chimney | 8K | Teen): It's December, 2016 and Chimney is a bit down on his luck. But a chance meeting with Beverly Hills heiress Maddie Buckley, right before her parents' big annual New Year's party, might be just what he's looking for. OR a Madney Cinderella AU.

the kiss that lingers by greenbergsays/ @greenbergsays (Getting Together | 10K | Explicit): 5 times Eddie kisses Buck's birthmark & 1 time he doesn't.

🔥the best endeavor waiting by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon Divergent, Amputee!Buck | 12K | Mature): When quarantine puts the 118 on the front lines of the pandemic, Eddie asks Buck and his service dog, Cranberry, to stay with Christopher. (Part 2 of Buck & Cranberry)

Vary My Days by Chash/ @ponyregrets (Post-S7 | 12K | Teen): After Christopher leaves, Frank tells Eddie to get a hobby. Eddie picks Legos, Buck picks crochet, and they both wait for Chris to talk to them again.

Can You Open Up The Door? by fruitsdoesnotknow/ @tayf-ghost (Canon Divergent, Different First Meeting | 15K | Teen): Or, five times Abuela and Pepa try to matchmake probationary firefighter Buck with freshly single dad Eddie moving to Los Angeles, and the one time they don't need to do anything at all.

🔥I'm Hearing Secret Harmonies by Chash/ @ponyregrets (Canon Divergent, Witch Eddie, Coffeshop AU | 18K | Teen): When the firefighter walks into Eddie's coffeeshop, Eddie immediately knows two things about him: he's not human, and he's the love of Eddie's life. Oh, he knows a bunch of other things too, obviously. He's about thirty, a few months younger than Eddie himself. He has a scar on his throat, like he got stabbed there, and one of his legs has some metal rods in it that must have come from a bad injury. The guy doesn't know he's not human, which is a tricky thing to figure out, but Eddie's almost positive. Most of the non-humans he knows have always known they aren't people, but there are exceptions, and they tend to carry themselves differently. The firefighter moves like he knows he doesn't belong, but not like he knows why. Like he's afraid of taking up space, afraid of being noticed. As if Eddie is even capable of not noticing him.

🔥 you're almost home (i've been waiting for you to come in) by sibylsleaves/ @sibylsleaves (Post-S5, Canon Divergent - Roommates, Getting Together | 34K | Mature): Buck moves in. Eddie comes out. Things get a little messy.

🔥I used to watch the moon retreat and wonder where it goes by Chash/ @ponyregrets (Canon Divergent, Ghost Whisperer Buck | 43K | Teen): Here's what Evan believes: if someone can do something that other people can't, if they offer some unique and special service to the world, they should do that. They have an obligation to use whatever skills they have, ideally to help people. It's just the right thing to do. And the one thing that Evan can do that almost no one else can is see ghosts. (The 118 are on a ghost-hunting TV show. Buck's the only one who knows ghosts are real.)

WIP

🔥Where there's smoke by rainbow_nerds/ @rainbow-nerdss (Multiverses | 25/31 | 30K | Teen): His eyelids are heavy. His lungs ache. The smoke is dense and thick, slowly suffocating him. Eddie feels himself drift as Buck’s voice penetrates the smoke, cuts through the fog in his brain. “Eddie, stay with me. Stay with me, Eds.” Eddie wants to stay. He wants to open his eyes and see Buck. He doesn’t want to leave. But he’s so tired, and sleep is calling him. Maybe it will be okay. Maybe his dreams will be sweet. Maybe there’ll be peace, there. And maybe, if he just rests for a little while, he’ll be able to find his way back.

🔥 Any Other Way by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon Divergent, S2 | 17/21 | 84K | Mature): In a switcheroo alternate universe, Buck spends young adulthood in the military, while Eddie, who has no idea Christopher exists, spends his twenties messing around, finally enjoying freedom away from his family’s expectations. When they both end up in Los Angeles, at the 118, some things are different, and others will be the same in any universe.

🔥 Long Death by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Post-S7, Vampire AU | 14/15 | 68K | Explicit): In the summer of 2024, a never before seen form of vampirism breaks out in Los Angeles. Just as Eddie is about to get his son back. Six months later, Buck's life is permanently changed.

go and kill, go and die by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Zombie Apocalypse AU | 3/14 | 12K | Mature): The 118 are a group of survivors in a small California town in the wake of a zombie apocalypse. For months they've been isolated and safe. But the arrival of some new players, the search for some missing loved ones, will shake everything up and put their little team in jeopardy.

🔥 Things We're All Too Young to Know by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon S1-S6, Divergent Post-S6 | 134/? | 425K | Mature): This is a love story. Even if it doesn’t always look like it. Even if it doesn’t always feel like it. A look back on Eddie and Buck's lives up to now, and what led them to each other, interpreted from the current 9-1-1 canon.

Weary Memory by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Buck&Bobby, Post-S7 | 3/4 | 9K | Teen): After an argument about the circumstances of Bobby's sudden retirement, Buck and Bobby each find themselves inexplicably experiencing one of the other's difficult childhood memories.

Podfic

🔥[podfic] i'm not good with names (and you don't feel the same) by be_brave13/ @djemsowhat // fic by benwvatt/ @benwvatt (S7E7: Ghost of a Second Chance | 10-20min | Teen): Whatever you do, don’t think about her, Shannon, six feet under, carnations at her grave. And don’t think about Buck, ever-changing, sleeping on your couch at home, hands folding over faded towels ‘cause he’s doing your laundry without you asking and fingers tracing down your books, copies left over from high school; eyes roving over your body in locked-away dreams that you don’t discuss, not even at therapy; lips that haven’t ever touched you but lips that know the touch of another ー another man ー just don’t think about it. Or: Eddie goes on his date with Kim and totally, absolutely, does not pine after Shannon or Buck the entire time. (Mission failed.)

[jamneuromain]

For your Lloyd and Secretary one, what if someone who works closely with Brewer finds out about how he died and seeks out for vengeance? And how about he kidnaps and enslaves Secretary and Lloyd has to get her back? But the Secretary thinks that Lloyd would just replace her, even if she had developed some feelings for Lloyd, she still believed that he would leave her. But Lloyd finds her.

Hi nonnies! Sorry for taking so long to write :3

I love your ideas and I present to you--

Out for Blood

Lloyd Hansen x You

Warning: Mob AU, Mob!Lloyd, Secretary!Reader (Driver!Denny Carmicheal), Graphic Depiction of Blood and Violence (I guess Lloyd is a warning of his own?), Reader has hemophobia (fear of blood), a lot of cursing.

W/C: ~5k

Summary: You were captured by a rival gang. Would Lloyd come and save you?

A/N: This is a sequel to A Whiff of Blood, Thank you for all your love to Mob!Lloyd<333

For the record, your hemophobia is directed to blood coming from other people, not your own. You wouldn’t faint or puke if you had a papercut, but you would (and did) puke when Lloyd showed up at your door a few weeks ago, littered with blood and cuts.

Tasting the faint tang of rust and salt from the cut inside your cheek, your tongue inevitably touches the wound in your mouth.

Ouch, it stings.

An almost ridiculous - but somewhat fits the situation you are facing - idea comes to mind.

You hope Lloyd could pay for your dental care if your tooth gets knocked out.

In a dark humid stinky cell, you are obligated to keep yourself from fainting.

How long is it since you’ve been captured? An hour? Two?

You don’t know. Not that the concrete walls give any clues as to where you are and when is it.

Your head is dizzy, and somewhere on the back of your head is throbbing, possibly the spot where someone knocks your head with a baseball bat or a heavy club.

-who the heck still uses a club to beat the shit out of their victims to issue a kidnapping these days? Aren’t they worried about possible brain injuries?

Your hands and feet are tied to a plain wooden chair with zip ties, not something you can get out of without tools and time. Knowing that they kidnapped you and took you to this place, instead of dumping you down the pier with a large stone tied to your feet? You’ve got time, some of them at least. They want something from you, hence the reason why you are alive.

The problem is to rescue yourself before they realize nothing is coming out of your mouth.

So, the real question is, how much time do you have?

Dull thuds of footsteps approach you. After some screeching from the iron bars and the clang of the lock opened by a key, that is supposed to be the cell gate’s composition, you assume, for you are forced in another direction having been tied to the chair, another screeching sound, and the door swings open, entering two men.

They stand before you, one has his hands on his hips, the other crossing his arm.

Think. Your mind goes one hundred miles per hour. Think. Sometimes Lloyd keeps his captives alive, but only when his men are wearing masks. But these two are showing their faces in broad daylight – nightlight, to be precise, since you left the office around 7:30 pm, and later got a smack in the head after having picked up the dry cleaning for Lloyd.

You watched their faces closely. The first man who appears before you is shorter than the other, it is difficult to tell his height when you are sitting on a chair, but you assume he is approximately your height (which is definitely short for an average man), medium build – again, it is hard to tell with his jacket on, you have to conduct most of your analysis base on guesswork. Something about his face looks familiar, however, you cannot pinpoint who or what, since as a secretary, you meet a lot of people daily.

The other guy, the taller one and the more muscular one, doesn’t strike you as someone you know in the past. A hint of tattoo peeks on the back of his hand, a sharp edge with the color of tattoo ink. The beard covers half his face, and that he’s bald, in contrast to his wild facial hair.

“Well, well, well.” The first one smirks, “If it isn’t Lloyd’s pretty thing in our hands.”

Think. They haven’t killed you yet, but they are planning to. Think of something smart. To stall. Or to gather enough information so that Lloyd will know who to revenge on if you are dead.

The hair on the back of your neck practically stands when the word “dead” crosses your mind for a split second.

You cannot panic. Not now. Think.

“You can drop an invitation to my mailbox, y’know? If you wanna talk.” You look up at them. A small smile raises the corner of your lips, but you are not smiling, not really, because your sharp eyes are taking in the minor changes in their expressions.

The first one raises his eyebrows, somewhat surprised, while the second one remains stoic.

“Impressive.” The man compliments, “Thought you would thrash and kick, but I guess you have seen too much of this - ” He gestures to your tied-up position, “working for Lloyd, eh?”

You neither confirm nor deny, yet, you make an attempt at deciphering his intentions, “What is it with this time?” God, you sound like you have been kidnapped twice a week since you got the secretary job. You raise your eyebrows as he does, “Threats to cooperate? Info about his latest business? Or are you two with the FBI?”

They both glance at each other when you mention the FBI.

Good news, they are not cops.

Bad news, they are not cops, which means they are more likely to kill you.

“Hey, you.” You turn your head to the silent bulk of beard, “Didn’t I see you tattling to your badge buddy two weeks ago? Is it what this is about? That I see you tipped off the cops?”

Of course, you haven’t seen the second man tattling to the cops. You don’t know him. But considering the tension ever since you pose the possibility that they are with the police and law enforcement, it is not a bad way to start an argument between the two of them.

That is, hopefully, there are only two that initiated your kidnapping. The plan of brewing a feud among the kidnappers would be more difficult to implement if there’s another person involved.

Under the first man’s continuous stare, the second man huffs out a grunt, grabs your hair in one hand, and lands a blow into your stomach with the other.

“Cука.” He grumbles, stepping back to where he was standing.

If it weren’t for the pain in your stomach, as the blow on your stomach feels like your guts have cracked into four pieces, you would most absolutely jump up from the chair that has you tied, and clap, for he has bared his identity before you, stripping clean.

Thank fuck you know a few curse words in Russian, one of them being “cука”, which means “bitch”.

Russian mob it is.

You know about the Russian mob in LA. A few weeks ago, Lloyd teamed up with one of his business partners to sell illegal substances (a nice way of putting it) and gradually took up the Russian turf. He got shot and was nearly killed after that, when the Russians ambushed him in the clinic he used to go, killing his doctor and one of his men. Lloyd himself barely got out alive and took shelter in your apartment.

Today, around 7 pm, Lloyd took his driver Denny and two of his henchmen to a club he owned to meet the Russians to settle for a truce. As his secretary, you know that he usually conducts his mob business there, instead of in the building where you work. So, you finished up the paperwork and called it a night, while ordering some pizza since cooking would take an additional one hour and a half.

You were on your way home, stopping by on the side of the curb to pick up Lloyd’s dry cleaning when you lost consciousness after a hit in the head.

Oh crap, you would have to send those clothes to the dry cleaning again.

Focus. You take a deep breath, clearing the irrelevant thoughts from your mind. Think smart. How could you subtly prove yourself worthy to them?

“Fine.” You huff out, “You are not working with a badge buddy, I get it.” Adding some sarcasm to the mix, you twitch the muscles on your face, your tone as despising as your expression, “I’m sure what I’ve seen with my own eyes is purely some illusion-voodoo shit.”

Great. Now you sound like Lloyd fucking Hansen.

The first man clears his throat, effectively silencing the grumbling Russian guy.

“Quite a temper.” He pulls a chair from the corner of the cell, sitting in front of you, pointing at himself, then back at you, “You know, we could’ve been friends, you and I.”

“Oh yeah?” You quirk your brow, “What’s stopping ya’? Enlighten me.”

Shit. Too Lloyd.

You are somewhat surprised when he responds per your ask, “If you insist…”

Yeah well, you weren’t exactly insisting (or interested, for that matter, you couldn’t care less). Nevertheless, you nod for him to continue.

“Suza Brewer. Rings a bell?” He smiles, but the friendliness is nowhere to be seen.

Of course, the name Suza Brewer rings a bell. Unfortunately, it’s the bad kind of bell.

Brewer had threatened to have you to himself, and asked Lloyd – not in a nice way – to balance between their deal and you.

… since you are alive and breathing and your limbs are still intact, without a doubt, Lloyd chose you, his faithful employee over the dumb biker Brewer, and fed Brewer to the fishes. You had speculated that there were crocodiles underwater where he disposed of the bodies, because damn, Lloyd’s body-dumping was never found by police forces, or any other people, for that matter, and now you are equally tempted to throw this kidnapper beneath the Westside Pier too.

If only you weren’t tied up like a lamb for slaughter.

“Vaguely.” You pretend to think, tilting your head to the side, even though the back of your shirt is soaked with your cold sweat, “Is he in trouble?”

Hell, Brewer is more than “in trouble”. He’s more like “in crocodile”. His body parts could be swimming along with those hideous beasts, travelling hundreds of miles apart from each other, as you speak.

Somehow, the phrase “in crocodile” has you close to smiling. Especially in this circumstance. Fuck. You are most definitely contaminated by Lloyd Fucking Hansen. You bite the inside of your cheek from actually smiling. As a result, you accidentally bite on your wound.

It stings like a bitch.

The man in front of you speaks softly, “Suza is my brother. And your boss, Lloyd Hansen, killed him.”

This is not going to end well.

You pray to whatever deity that would answer, and hope that you could have a better ending than the Brewer guys. If not, then at least a quick, painless death.

The man observes your face for any expression that could slip away some info, but eventually, he sighs and continues, “So, I decided that I would avenge him, by taking away Lloyd’s most prized possession.”

Ah. Lloyd’s most prized possession would be his gun. He’d spend an hour every day wiping it spotless with a fine cloth, counting the bullets in his gun before popping the magazine back in place. You have heard about a few of the henchmen joking that Lloyd would be more pissed if a man touches his gun, compared to touching his dick,

You have seen the gun on many occasions. Most of the times on his belt, occasionally in his hand, and once, only once on the table when he was dismantling it. But he quickly put it back together seeing you with the pile of paperwork and shoved it back on his belt. Twice, if you are counting the time when he nearly bleeds out in your home.

“Aaaaaaand you want to ask me what his prized possession is?” You pipe up.

That’d be easy. However, you doubt what this Brewer brother had in mind could be this plain and straight.

As far as you know, Lloyd doesn’t have any siblings, parents to account for (he was adopted by a gang member around five, who died in an alley fight a decade later), women that he’d ride or die for (he picks different escorts when he’s in the mood, no one, in particular, meets his eyes), or any offsprings (then your job would be more nanny than a secretary). In fact, you wrecked your brain for the answer to this question, and the truth is, that Lloyd doesn’t care about anyone in any way – apart from the men (and women) working for him. Even so, his expression of “caring” is to drop a generous check if any of them was taken out or quit voluntarily, and never pay attention to them again.

He doesn’t have any pets, neither a dog nor a goldfish to keep him company.

You wonder whether he harbors any feelings at all, except the thrill of being a sociopath.

… maybe he loves his gun in a romantic way, who knows.

“No. I got that part.” Brewer No.2 speaks with a wild glint in his eyes, “And she’s sitting right in front of me.”

You huff out a laugh. This could be the top 1 joke of the Hansen Government Services, that Lloyd sees you as his prize? Pfft.

But the man’s determent tone tells you differently. That he believes Lloyd cherishes you the most. Which means he is going to take you away.

“Don’t believe me?” He shrugs, “My intel snapped pictures of a file, hidden in his top drawer, on top of every shit he has.” Showing the pictures he has on his phone, he added, “You were on that file, Ms. Secretary.”

It was Lloyd’s desk. Dimly-lit, but still, Lloyd’s desk. Someone could burn that desk down to ash and you’d still recognize it. And the file laid bare. With a CV and a photo…

Oh no. Oh shit. It is you.

You’d be lucky as hell if Brewer No.2 simply told you something bad about Lloyd and gave you some money to run far away, as if this is some bullshit mob romance novel. In this situation, he is more likely to skin you alive and send your fingers in a FedEx package to Lloyd’s doorstep as a Christmas present. Or pull out your fingernails before shooting you in the head. Or torture you in the most painful ways possible. Oh God.

The fucking Brewer family and both of these men could go straight to Hell strapped on rabid Cerberus with burning white-hot iron shoes that could not come off.

Think. Think! He hasn’t killed you yet. Why he hasn’t killed you yet? You could be more deader than Suza Brewer who was stuck at the bottom of the pier right now. Why is this Brewer No.2 keeping you alive? What does he want from you besides to intimidate Lloyd?

You have no choice but to ask, “I’m guessing that, since I haven’t got a bullet between my eyes, you want something else too?”

A wicked grin perks up his lips. Handing his phone to your face, he says, “I want you to call him.”

Forget dental care, you now hope Lloyd could pay for a decent funeral.

Brewer No.2 dials the number for you and puts it on speaker. Your heart thumping in your ears, praying that he’d answer. But also praying that he won’t. What if it’s a larger trap to lure him here? You’d rather he doesn’t pick up and get it over with. Plus, he’s too busy to pick up calls, he’s negotiating with the Russians-

“Who’s this?” Lloyd’s sharp voice pierces through the speaker, and seems to have gripped your throat tightly.

Brewer No.2 urges you to speak, but turns out he’s too hyped up to wait for your mumbling lips to make a sound. He drags his tone almost annoyingly, “Hello, Hansen. I’m Levi Brewer, brother of Suza Brewer. I’m here to collect a debt.”

“Oh yeah? Enlighten me.”

That’s so un-Lloyd-like. He’d normally end the call until the person on the other end of the phone could learn to speak what they want directly, which you have witnessed a few dozen times. You can almost imagine Lloyd’s unamused face and his killing glare, having had to deal with Brewer No.2, Levi Brewer.

“You, Mr. Hansen, killed my brother, which is why I’m taking the love of your life away from you.” Brewer No.2 announces, pulling out his gun to flip the safe off. The crisp clicking noise is like a heavy punch to your stomach, declaring the clock of your life ticking towards its end.

Jesus. You? The love of Lloyd’s life? You could’ve sworn Lloyd has a deeper bond to that escort named Cherry than you.

“Say hello to the pretty little thing I’ve just captured.” Brewer slams his palm across your face, squeezing a yelp out of your tightened throat.

The only “pretty” thought about you is that you are pretty sure you are neither “little”, nor “thing”, but that’s a debate settled for another time.

“Say your name, beautiful. I’m sure your boss would catch up soon.” Brewer No.2 points the gun to your face, and places the phone near your lips.

No matter how reluctant you are, you know this might be the only chance where you can tip Lloyd off. And maybe, just maybe he’d revenge on Tweedle Dee by allowing Dee – Brewer No.2 share the same fate as his brother. “Evening, Mr. Hansen.” You mumble, the taste of iron roots deeply in your mouth that you cannot speak clearly, “Sorry to disturb you.”

Lloyd doesn’t reply. He must be mad. Deeply mad at you for ruining his negotiation with the Russians.

Russian? Fuck, the Russian in the room – you spare a quick glance at the silent bulk of beard in the corner – shit, they were in on it together. The Russian mobs asked Lloyd to give you up – nonono, it can’t be, Lloyd wasn’t that good at acting, and considering Levi is sharing this news that you were kidnapped just now, he could be plotting with the Russians.

Does Lloyd know? Your head is messing with your thoughts. Does he know about your abduction? Was he permitting this to happen?

No. Brewer works against Lloyd, which means Lloyd couldn’t have known.

Who should you trust? Was Lloyd generous enough to give you up? Even though he declined Suza Brewer’s deal: you for the business? And fed him to the sharks because he disrespected you?

… probably crocodiles, but who cares at this point.

“Are you hurt?” Lloyd asks.

“Not really.” The tip of your tongue presses against the wound in your mouth, eliciting pain to clear your head – desperate measures for desperate times – and you continue, “I was wondering, though. I think two teeth of mine are loose. Does the employee benefit cover dental care?”

Think, think, think! How can you pass on the message?

Before Lloyd can answer, you take a head start, “Must be one of those Alenka … Alonka Chocolate bars?”

Last Christmas, the Russian mobs sent over a basket of those chocolate bars, Lloyd ordered to have them tested (in case there was poison) and gave them to his employees after they came out clean. But that was about a year ago, and Lloyd saw the wrapping papers in the basket near your seat right before the day ended. He joked about “eating with the enemy” while you admitted the chocolate was not half bad.

There. The message. Loud and clear.

“The dental plan gives you a 10% discount,” Lloyd says calmly. Which is a big fat lie, because no dental plan would be so petty. He wants to say something about 10. But about what? Ten minutes until he’s here? He’d bring ten men along?

“But I won’t tolerate tardiness, sunshine,” Lloyd’s voice sends a shiver down your spine, “Your working hours are nine am to eight pm. Don’t you dare be late.”

Holy Mary and Joseph. First ten, now nine and eight? Lloyd is about to tear this place down in less than ten seconds.

“Enough chitchat.” Brewer No.2 takes the phone back and aims his gun at your face again, “Say your goodbyes. Lloyd Hansen, you are about to hear her final words.”

“My final words?” You lean back onto the chair, steadying yourself with your feet as much as possible, “You really talk too much.”

A loud blast erupts from where the silent Russian is standing. He is most definitely covered in a few dozen kilos of rubbles and bricks. Levi instinctively covers his head, but the blast knocks him to the ground, where he stays unconscious. You are the only one with enough preparations to lower your body, even though being tied to the chair. But you still get thrown over by the blast and the chair collapses underneath your body.

A few henchmen armed to the teeth step through the hole in the wall. After them, Lloyd.

Lloyd in a black coat.

Your ears are ringing, and you can’t tell what he’s trying to say.

Another man with a black briefcase comes to your side. Your pupils were examined, your pulse was checked, and your lungs were listened to.

“… you feel any pain?” The other man asks you.

You shake your head. It hurts a bit in your mouth but that’s just a little cut.

“She’s alright.” The man who appears to be a doctor confirms, helping you up from the ground.

You stand on wobbly legs. The past hour has been too much of a scare that your knees are shaking. You trip over your own feet, before a pair of solid arms steadies you.

“Easy tiger.” Lloyd’s voice booms by your ear, having your head snap in his direction.

He came.

Oh God he came.

Knowing this was a semi-trap, but he didn’t need to be here. He could wait until this is over and give you a proper burial.

And you could’ve died. He could’ve died. You both could’ve died.

You stumble into his embrace, fingers clenching his thick woolen coat.

You probably shouldn’t. He’s your employer, your boss. He’d probably sue you for sexual harassment. But you did.

The blood soars in your ears. You dare not breathe out loud, fearing that you are dreaming.

It feels like a dream. It all did.

“ ’s alright. It’s alright now.” Lloyd murmurs. He runs a hand down your spine, inching your head close to his shoulder.

“How-How did you find me so soon?” Among everything, this is the one you were the most curious about. Yet you dare not look at him. Even if he has just saved your life.

Lloyd narrows his eyes. If you were any other girl, you’d be crying and weeping, and wiping snot on his coat, telling him how much you wanted to be with him the moment you thought you were dying. But no. You were not any other girl.

Fuck.

Long story short, he doesn’t want to elaborate, for you have plenty of time to discuss about this later, “Noticed there was something wrong with the Russians. Then your doorman called.”

“My doorman?” You raise your head to look at him, your brows furrow in confusion, “The guy at the residence entrance? Henry?” While your fingers slowly untangling from his coat.

“He had my number – I’m the last tenant of that condo – told me your pizza came and he couldn’t reach you,” Lloyd explains as simply as possible.

Ah yes. You ended your work around 7pm and ordered pizza…

You make a mental note to thank Henry for saving your life.

A groan drifts to your ear. You turn around on instinct, as Levi Brewer regains his senses.

“Where… I… What…”

In a split second, Lloyd pulls out his gun to shoot him twice in the chest.

A scream gets stuck in your throat, when the crimson blooms in Brewer’s chest.

Your body is shaking, trembling - a natural fear towards the predator behind you.

Brewer crumbles to the ground.

Lloyd lets out a sigh. He puts his arm around you, guiding your hand towards a piece of lukewarm metal. The metal that has just shot Brewer in the chest.

“You have no idea how to shoot, do you?” He asks, but doesn’t expect you to answer. It is a miracle that you are not fainting, he had hoped for far less before arriving.

Wrapping your index finger around the trigger, Lloyd takes a deep breath before flipping off the safe.

“Eye.” He lifts your chin in the direction of Brewer on the ground.

“Arm.” One of his hands steadies your shaking arm into a stable angle.

“Mark.” He lowers the gun point to Brewer’s forehead.

His warm chest against your back, blocking every possible way of escaping. The familiar feeling of having your throat in his hands creeps up your neck, making it difficult for you to breathe.

Your heart thumping loudly, your breath as shallow as it can be, as the warm air coming out of his mouth reaches your ears.

“Aim for the head. And shoot.”

He curls his finger next to yours, and your finger hits the trigger.

The gun is well-positioned, allowing the bullet to dive into Brewer’s forehead, leaving a round of crimson around the bullet hole.

You spin on your heels immediately, fighting the hurling stomach deep down.

The hard piece of metal comes between you and Lloyd.

A gun.

Lloyd’s gun.

You just used a gun to kill someone.

You are never getting a decent job anywhere in the world.

You are going to keep this skeleton in your closet forever (and of course, working for Lloyd until the day you die).

The cold metal burns your palm. You remember about the jokes that Lloyd never allows anyone to touch his gun.

“I… This belongs to you.” You shove the gun into his hands, as if this is some beast that would bite your fingers off if you keep it for one more second.

Lloyd snorts when his prized gun is pushed into his hands. But he doesn’t say another word. He clasps the gun back on his belt before ordering his men to leave.

You follow his troop out of the building in silence. The past hour has been a series of roller-coaster events that you need some time to process.

Denny is waiting in the car when you climb in. While the rest of Lloyd’s men get in a van, Lloyd barks a few orders to them that you haven’t paid attention to. You sit in the car, your back rigid, and you put your hands on your knees like a pupil in class.

Denny offers a sympathetic smile when your eyes meet in the rear-view mirror. He isn’t the type to talk, serving as Lloyd’s driver. But he’s nice enough to hand you a bottled water from the glove compartment, which you take with a murmured “thanks” and clench it with your knuckles turning white.

The adrenaline fades from your blood system, and your heart beats in a stable rhythm, your breathing finally adjusts itself to slow inhales and exhales.

The bruises on your wrists and ankles are scorching in pain. The back of your head is hurting too. Luckily, none of your bones is broken, which could be the best news of this evening.

This feels way too familiar.

As Lloyd opens the car door, your heart jumps to your throat again.

You are worried. Worrying about he’d fire you, thinking you have leaked information to the Brewer guy. Worrying about you have touched his gun, using it to kill someone, no less, and he’d cut off your hand for using it. Worrying about Lloyd would be dead if he steps into a trap with you as bait, that Levi Brewer intended to kill him…

Why the fuck are you worrying about Lloyd? He’s perfectly fine taking care of himself. It is you who needs extra self-defense lessons.

“What… Um, what happened to the truce you went to negotiate with the Russians?” You can’t help but ask, knowing that the dead Russian who kidnapped you was dragged out of the rubbles and put into a body bag, heading in another direction on the van that had Lloyd’s men on it.

“It was a trick,” Lloyd grumbles, “to stall. We agreed upon no phones, so it took me a while to get the call from that doorman. Then I knew they were trying to stall me from getting to you.”

You were whacked when you had just picked up the drycleaning for Lloyd. “-my car, and my – your clothes -” You remember.

“-were taken care of.” He picks up where you left off, “I’m assigning you an assistant, Claire. She’s living next door. She has driven your car back to the garage, and sent the clothes to dry cleaning as well.”

“An assistant? I don’t need an assistant.” You argue, “I can work fine on my own.”

“And get knocked out on the street in the middle of the night?” Lloyd snorts impatiently, “She’s there to protect you, but ask her to pick up the coffee, take out the trash, and drive the car for you, I don’t care. Claire would be by your side when I’m not close enough to save your ass.”

Ah. So you are a liability to him.

Maybe you weren’t suitable for a mob secretary at all.

You were no prized possession, as Brewer claimed to be.

And he’s your boss. You should feel lucky to be alive instead of mulling over whether he treats you special or not.

“Yes, Mr. Hansen.” You collect your feelings. It is perfectly normal for him to assign you a bodyguard/assistant. Hell, it’s even perfectly normal that he wants to fire you for your incompetence. Hiring an assistant? He doesn’t want you to get kidnapped again, that’s all.

… or replace you when she gets the gist of your job.

You think bitterly, staring at the tinted window.

“By the way, you don’t have to come to work tomorrow.” Lloyd casually tells you, “Paid leave, and it’s Friday anyway, you deserve some time off after this …” He carefully considers the choice of words, “… incident.”

“Thank you, Mr. Hansen.” You reply automatically.

It is such a weird thing that you let out a small exhale of relief when you heard the word “paid leave”, as if he would’ve thrown you off the car and told you that you are fired right after saying you don’t have to come to work.

Lloyd isn’t so ruthless after all.

Your heart beats faster, hopeful for …

What are you hopeful for?

You kick the ridiculous thought into the corner of your mind, answering, “I’ll be back on Monday.”

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[electrospherevaults]

'ello everyone, today's a special day!

Back one year ago, and merely two weeks after I was done with the mandatory army conscription, I kept thinking about Defiler. This thinking led to some ideas on how to expand the world, especially coming off the heels of whatever the fuck being in the greek army was, and with friends explaining how much they loved the world and especially the faction of the Maidens of Wrethella, a warrior army in service of the King, I soon had a concept I wanted to explore.

Thusly, on August 26, 2023, at exactly four minutes past midnight, Maiden, the sequel novel to Defiler, was born.

HAPPY MAIDENVERSARY

Fair Lady Analussa of the Maidens of Wrethella, protagonist of MAIDEN Artwork courtesy @meer-draws

It's been a wild time since then, exactly one year ago now! Lots of things changed, lots of things improved; I know my characters better than ever before and the world they inhibit. Analussa grew from a simple character meant to inform the reader about Lionelli and her goals into her own fully realized character; her squad grew to include six more wonderful and superb lady maidens that are as badass as they are sweet. And at a current 97.5k words and 258 pages, I am inching closer to achieving the goal of finishing the sequel! It is still quite a long way to go - there are 41 planned chapters for it after all, and it would not be a Defiler sequel had it not posses some ambition of its own in what it is trying to do - but writing the story of Analussa and her squad as they survive the war-torn world of Tessereich has been a cathartic and healing experience for me; one that I hope I will get to share with you all soon enough)

Alongside the sequel, I have been continuously building the world of Defiler; its past, its present, its future, and how the cast of characters fit in the whole thing. Several of the short stories I have been writing earlier this year take place in the Tomorrow Galaxy where Defiler and Maiden takes place. Each one has been instrumental in figuring the world out, how it ticks, how it works, what it has to say. Most of all, this whole endeavour has helped me figure out Mallik the most, the protagonist of the first novel. She is especially dear to me - I wouldn't have so many artworks of her commissioned had she not been so instrumental in my growth as a writer and as a person - and it would be a severe understatement to say that her perseverance aided me to keep my chin up and continue unabated by difficulties and plights life threw my way. One day, I hope I can tell her story properly.

So what is next for the denizens of Tomorrow? Well, for now, my goal is to finish Maiden. Next goal is the to fix the draft of Defiler; that one will remain private unfortunately as I seek to get it published. I hope it will be fun to come back here and contrast the finished product with the first public draft made during its NaNoWriMo challenge phase. I also want to see if I can depict Defiler and the rest of the stories taking place in the Tomorrow galaxy in other mediums, such as animation and videogames - but that's a plan for later in the year, depending on how things pan out.

In any case, I want to thank y'all for reading, and I especially want to thank my friends, (like Babka, Beth, Gree, September, Sapphire, Chloe, Balkon, Aenore, Steph and Mirnos), for being instrumental in guiding me and believing in me throughout the way; from finishing Defiler, to reading it and critiquing it, and now traversing alongside me this wild new wider galaxy!

Thank you all kindly, and I promise you more news about Maiden in the coming months :D

In the meantime, you can read the first draft of the first novel, available for free, on here. (Analussa does appear in it, and her role, whilst small, is still quite important!)

[randomalistic]

first off. i can't believe that i already followed you- your spam blog -and didn't know.

second. i literally just had a dream shere i was rambling to someone about turbo using stuff from your essay. apparently it rewired my brain so hard it, and you, manifested in my dreams lol (i even made a bad joke that "you can say he's Turbo-tastic!" hah)

and congratulations on making such great work of art that is the essay, you can feel and hear the love(and hyperfixation) poured into it.

i do wonder tho, what was the hardest part when making it?

I’m so glad you enjoyed it yay :)❤️ and also recognized me from my sneo blog LOL

I feel that so horrendously much. I legit had a dream a few nights ago about someone APPROACHING ME cuz they recognized my voice from the essay (girl get an ego check) but they then said “dude it’s so obvious you’re into him” or something. And I was like. 🧍‍♀️Well you don’t have to say it out loud

Anyways you’re not the only one cuz the video haunts me too. even after its birth.

The hardest part?? Oh Man. Can I say Everything.

There were a few stretches that were REALLY TOUGH. short answer: Entire first half of the video. Also the longer parts like the Manipulation section, Turbo reveal section, and the Cybug King Candy section. I had a lot to say for these and it was tricky to condense it into something Comprehensible

Long answer:

I completely overhauled the entire first half of the video (EVERYTHING before the kart breaking scene) because I wasn’t satisfied with the writing/delivery etc. (Which was a good choice because my arguments were pretty half baked before) but oh my god that was like a week and a half of 7 hour recording and rewriting sessions it was brutal. Especially annoying because those arguments were super old and I was getting sick of thinking about them. So instead I used them as a backbone to structure better arguments and revamp the script so that kept me from going insane. However it was also really fun because I got to see my old ass arguments finally be explained to their fullest capacity. And also I got to write shit like ☝️🤓Excuse me sir your turbo is showing..

The biggest issue with this being my first ever video essay and it taking so goddamn long: you could SEE my writing/editing/voicing skills improve over the span of the video itself. Which is really cool improvement wise but REALLY . REALLY BAD CONSISTENCY WISE. Like the first half of the video is the part people are gonna see first. It SETS EXPECTATIONS. IT HAS TO BE PEAK

I think I re-edited the synopsis upwards of 5-6 times. Which makes sense as that was like the first thing I started the project with but ouhvhhhgghghr. Making a section from scratch is WAY easier than going back and having to redo something

Early on I cut out an entire fully edited/scripted/recorded 3 minute section of me talking about Megamind and its sequel because I realized. This is pointless and everyone has TALKED ABOUT MEGAMIND BEFORE AND THIS HAS NOTHIBG TO DO WITH WRECK IT RALPH. There were a lot of scrapped ideas

Audio was also really challenging, just entirely. Making sure the levels were consistent (I had absolutely zero voice volume normalization I did it all manually 😭 I’m gonna have to figure out how to do that) Also just the concept of recording my voice and having to speak out loud in a space was Real Bad for my anxiety but You Do it Scared. Had to wait until I was home alone or like 99% sure I was alone before I could say anything without worrying. Also training my voice to sound engaging and consistent was so hard and it took maybe 6 months for me to get it down. Also I had no fucking idea where to record, like at first I was recording in a CLOSET (and later under a piano??) and then I was wondering why my lines sounded so weird. Then I realized I could just Record in a room and it would sound JUST FINE. So basically uhhh every single part was the hardest part. But it was worth it and very fun I think 🫶

[captainsophiestark]

Nosy Best Friends

Tristan Flynn x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Based on this request from Anon! It was very fun to write and it gave me a second, related idea that I'm planning to post Monday, so thanks for sending it in! Hope you like it!

Fandom: Crescent City

Summary: Flynn's been disappearing a lot to spend time with his human girlfriend, and his friends have decided to finally figure out where he's been going.

Word Count: 2,219

Category: Fluff, Humor, maybe a tiny bit of Angst? But not really

A/N: This fic also has a prequel called Presentation Problems and a sequel called The Best Night Ever, but can also be read on its own!

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

Ruhn's POV

"Where the Hel are you going?"

Flynn barely stopped at the sound of my voice, half-turning back with an irritated look. I gave him the same one right back.

"I'm going out. Why do you care?"

"You've been disappearing doing Urd knows what for weeks. Come on, Flynn, what's going on?"

Flynn just rolled his eyes. "Nothing, mom. Just relax and mind your own business."

He turned on his heel and walked out the door without looking back. I watched him go, then turned to Dec on the couch.

"Something's going on with him."

"Yeah. Think it's time we do something about it?"

"Definitely."

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

Y/N's POV

I sighed, rubbing my eyes as I tried to reread what I'd written for the thousandth time. I'd been holed up in my apartment for almost forty-eight hours straight working on a paper for grad school, and I'd started to go a little crazy.

The only reason I hadn't gone crazy about twenty hours ago was my boyfriend, Tristan Flynn. He'd been keeping me company, providing a stream of encouragement and my favorite snacks and helping me take a break when I really needed it, even if I wouldn't admit it. He'd left a couple hours ago to go do something he needed to do, and I'd come very close to hurling my laptop at the wall in his absence.

We'd first met in a similar situation, when I'd hurled my notebook across what I'd thought was an empty classroom. Flynn had been looking for somebody the Aux had followed to campus, and only his fae reflexes had kept him from taking my notebook to his head. If I hadn't been stressed out of my mind already, I would've been worried about having accidentally attacked a member of the fae Aux, especially as a human, but I'd hit my limit that day, so instead I'd shouted at him for interrupting my studying.

Luckily for both of us, once he'd recovered from his shock, he'd seemed to be into that. He'd tried to get me to leave for safety reasons, and I'd refused, so he'd stayed. We ended up hitting it off the bat, and the rest was history.

We'd been together for a few months now, and despite every warning I'd ever heard against dating a member of the Vanir, it was quite honestly the best relationship I'd ever been in. We hadn't told anyone else in our lives yet, mostly because we didn't want our little bubble of happiness being burst, but I had a hard time believing anything could ruin what we'd found together.

The few seconds I'd spent losing myself in memories had been nice, but the glaring light of my laptop screen didn't let me escape for long. I sighed heavily, trying to decide whether it was worth it to power through. I didn't entirely have a choice, unless I wanted to drop out of grad school, but maybe I could find something to do as a small break.

Somebody must have been listening to my silent pleas, because a moment later my phone rang. I smiled when Flynn's face popped up, a terrible picture of him that I'd taken when he wasn't ready. He always switched it back to a shirtless one he'd taken himself when he got the opportunity, and it had become a little silent war between us.

"You have amazing timing," I sighed as soon as I picked up. I could hear his smile through the other end of the phone.

"I always do. Come downstairs."

"...You know I shouldn't. This paper-"

"Is something you've been holed up in that apartment working on for way too long. You're driving yourself insane, and last I checked, you can't turn in anything if you smash your laptop to pieces against the wall. Besides, humans need sunlight. And fresh air."

"An expert on that, are you?"

"I sure am," his voice purred over the phone and I rolled my eyes, but I also felt heat rising on my cheeks. "Just come down here, and I'll show you how much of an expert I am."

I let out a long breath through my nose. Flynn was right. Sitting in this apartment driving myself insane wasn't helping anything. And besides, I really wanted to go spend time with him.

"Alright. I'm on my way."

"Good. I'll see you in a second."

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

Ruhn's POV

"What in Hel is he doing here?" I hissed to Dec, trying to keep my voice down. We'd tailed Flynn to some apartment complex not far from the college we'd chased some monster down at not long ago.

"I don't know..." said Dec. "Maybe he's got a lead on something for the case? Or a new case, related to all that shit we dealt with last time?"

"You think Flynn's spending his time off work doing more work?"

I shot Dec a look, and he snorted.

"Okay, you're right. It's probably not that."

We turned back to watch Flynn, who had a full bouquet of flowers in his hands. He'd put on the nicest clothes he owned, and if I didn't know better, I would've thought-

"Oh! Tristan, holy shit!"

Dec and I stared wide-eyed as a human female came out of the apartment building, absolutely beaming at Flynn. She ran to him and jumped in his arms, hugging him tight, as he picked her up and spun her around. He kissed her, and when they pulled apart they stayed close, forehead to forehead, just staring at each other lovingly, something I'd never seen Flynn do with a female. I glanced at Dec to find him looking just as shocked as me, and when I turned back to find Flynn practically floating looking at the girl in front of him, I couldn't help my surprised shout.

"WHAT THE FUCK?"

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

Y/N's POV

Tristan and I whirled around in sync at the sound of a loud shout from across the street. I found two fae males staring at us, looking absolutely outraged, and I started to get a little worried until my boyfriend shouted back.

"What the FUCK are you two doing here?"

"I take it you know them?" I asked, turning to Flynn and keeping my voice low. He shook his head, but the irritation in his eyes faded the second he looked at me.

'Yeah, sweetheart, I do. They're my roommates and my friends from the Aux. And they're absolute idiots."

I turned to find the idiots in question storming across the street and towards us, shouting at cars that almost hit them in the process. Unconsciously, I took a half step towards Flynn, and he immediately wrapped one arm around my waist and pulled me closer to him.

Not a moment too soon. His friends finally made it across traffic to come to a stop in front of us, and my jaw literally almost hit the floor when I realized one of them was the Crown Prince of the Valbaran Fae.

"What the Hel are you doing?" demanded the prince before turning to me. "And who is this?"

"I'm his girlfriend," I snapped, not quite able to stop myself. Both newcomers stared at me in wide-eyed shock, then whirled on their friend.

"Your what?"

"My girlfriend," Flynn said, an edge of steel in his voice that I'd only heard once or twice, usually in relation to Aux business.

The fae before us shared an absolutely shocked look, then whirled back around to look at Flynn.

"Why the Hel didn't you tell us?"

"Is that where you've been sneaking off to every day for the last few months?"

"What the fuck, Flynn?"

They shouted their questions at Flynn in sync, then without waiting for my boyfriend to get ahold of himself enough to answer, the one I didn't recognize turned to me with an apologetic smile.

"I'm Declan," he said, holding out a hand for me to shake. I stared at it for a minute, then slowly took it. "It's nice to meet you."

"...Nice to meet you, too."

"Ruhn. Also nice to meet you," said the prince with a chin nod of a hello in my direction. Then, he turned back to Flynn. "You know everybody's gonna lose it when they realize you've been keeping a steady girlfriend a secret from us, right?"

"Yeah yeah, whatever. Bunch of Aux members, a spy, and Bryce, it's your own fault for not figuring it out sooner. You should be better at your jobs than this."

Ruhn and Declan's mouths dropped open, and I laughed. I could see them getting ready for a comeback, so I stepped even closer to Flynn and fixed the other two fae with a bright smile.

"It's been nice to get to meet some of Tristan's friends, and I'm sure I'll see you both again soon. But right now, I was promised a break from my term paper by my wonderful boyfriend, and I don't intend to let anything get in the way of that."

"I'd listen if I were you," said Flynn, a massive smile on his face as he looked at me with the most lovesick expression I'd ever seen. It made my heart melt. "We met because she almost clocked me in the head with a notebook for interrupting her study session."

"Well technically I threw the notebook before you came in. And then I yelled at you for interrupting."

"Are you trying to say you wouldn't have thrown the notebook at my head anyway if it'd still been in your hands?"

"...No, I probably would've."

"I know. And I love it." He grinned, leaning in for a heated kiss. It still took my breath away, kissing him, even though it'd been a few months now, and he pulled away far too soon for my liking. "What do you say we get the Hel out of here for your distraction?"

"I say Hel yeah, let's go."

He gave me one last quick peck, then pulled back with a wink. His arm stayed wrapped around my waist as we turned to head off to whatever surprise he had planned, not bothering to spare more than a nod at his absolutely stunned friends.

"You get the weekend, Flynn!" one of them called after us. "And then we're having a party and getting to know this female you're so head over heels for!"

"Sure!" Flynn said, calling back over my head. "As long as she decides she actually wants to meet you!"

I snorted, and when I looked at Flynn I found a beaming smile on his face as we walked down the street together. He held out the hand that wasn't around my waist, finally presenting me with the gorgeous bouquet he'd first shown up with.

"For you."

"Thanks, Tris." I took the flowers and leaned into him, and we continued in comfortable silence for a moment. Then Flynn cleared his throat.

"So, do you... uh, do you want to meet them? My friends and everybody?"

"Well, that depends a little bit... why were they so shocked? Was it because I'm human?"

"No." Flynn's response was immediate, and he stopped dead in his tracks to turn me to face him. He put both hands on my shoulders, his warm brown eyes finding mine. "I would never voluntarily spend time with people who felt or thought that way."

"Okay... then why did they seem so surprised to see you with somebody?"

He grimaced. "You... might be the first serious girlfriend I've had. Ever."

My eyebrows shot up, and my heart skipped a few beats.

"Really?"

"Yeah. I think my record before this was... seeing the same female for two weeks? Maybe?"

I couldn't help barking a laugh, and Flynn grimaced again. My heart, on the other hand, was soaring as I reached up to gently cup his cheek.

"Well, I guess I can see why your friends were so surprised then. I'd be happy to meet them. And I'm honored to be the first female you've decided to stick around for."

He grinned at me, making my heart race even faster, then slowly leaned in until our lips were just a hair's breadth away.

"I'm honored to be a fae male you're willing to date. Based on what another friend has told me, a human like you wouldn't be willing to give just any of us a chance."

I snorted. "Yeah, no kidding. But I'm glad I gave you one."

"Me too."

I gave Flynn a little smirk, then leaned in to close the rest of the distance between us. He wasted no time kissing me back, hard, and we quickly deepened the kiss. I let my one free hand wander up to tangle in his hair, and I was ready to lose myself in him right then and there, but after a few long moments he gently pulled back.

"As much as I'd like to continue this... I think you'll really like the surprise break I have planned."

I smiled, going in for one last quick kiss, then pulling all the way back.

"Alright. Let's go. As long as we can continue this after I finish my assignments?"

"If I ever say no to that, you should be concerned."

I laughed as we headed off down the street together again, hand in hand. I still had many hovering stressors, from school to finally meeting Flynn's extended friend group, but I knew I'd have him with me for all of it. I was starting to get the feeling he was in it for the long haul, and even though that brought plenty of challenges, I couldn't help being excited for it all the same.

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

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989

[weekend-whip]

Ninjago Fic Rec Week (2024): Day 2

Prompts: Multichaps/Villains! (catching up slowly but surely~)

Multichaps:

Shark Bait: ALRIGHT CONFESSION I haven't actually *read* this one yet ONLY because I know it's going to soooooo good and it's going to change my brain chemistry so I'm waiting until I am Emotionally Prepared but UWAH just the premise alone should be enough to entice you: Movie!verse with completely secret identities, and Lloyd/Green Ninja trying to take matters into his own hands...only for irony to make them worse, as is the story of his life. This author is already a legend as it is so who needs a summary GO READ GO READ NOW!!

Ninjago: The Nya Perspective: SINCE this masterpiece favorite of mine just updated not too long ago, there's no better time than to recommend it once again! Have you always wanted more from Nya in the early seasons?! Have you always wanted more of HER side of story?! Have you wonder how Nya became the person she is today?! Well wonder no longer for this story has got those answers and more!!!!

Sharpen the Scythe, Before He Reaps: Another that I've started but never finished, it's a reworking of the Day of the Departed, so you know it's FULL of Ghost!Cole goodness, from the good to the angsty!! And what I've read so far is sooo soul-grabbing (pun somewhat intended) and makes me wish DotD was even half as introspective as this jhgfdgfd

Thank You For Giving Me Wings: Over a year later and this is still my only multi-chap ninjago fic (...that, uh, isn't Legacyverse nor OC-related, oop). Still, it's never a bad time to have a little introspective on Wu bonding with his students over the years, moreso as family than anything else <3

All I'm Asking For: Quite possibly one of my very favorite Ninjago fics ever, it is REQUIRED reading as far as I'm concerned! Cole's the anchor character, but it follows EVERYONE in a slightly-altered aftermath of March of the Oni, with everyone recuperating, figuring out what's next for them with their lives and relationships, and spiced up with a little Christmas flair <3

Mechanical Hearts: A story I've been keeping an eye on for a while, it's a college Jaya au with plenty of Jay+Cole dynamic spread on top, and the way the author (hi Finn!!) writes all the characters is so deep even in the lighter moments and makes all the senes in the world for the setting they're in, and I love all the little nods to canon or the cheeky changes made along the way–it's so enjoyable!

Villains:

for want (for nothing): Not technically a villain, but Kai's certainly an antagonist here ooooooooh (a different, heart-wrenching take on the Kai-Lloyd confrontation in S4)

Lord Garmadon Is Not Impressed With the Future: Another one I've recced before, but now it has an equally villainous SEQUEL so I've gotta get everyone on the train again! And this story's got villain!Garmadon and villain!Garmadon-but-having-a-personal-crisis upon realizing that his future is...not at all what he wanted. And he also discovers himself beating the life out of his own son–so yeah. We definitely can't have THAT. Good stuff, good stuff.

Bucket List: Might be a slight cop-out since this is moreso about Kai BUT it IS my favorite Morro-related fic, and he is a villain, thus it fits! (...Plus I gotta put at least three stories in this section, c'mon). Anyway, Kai allows Morro to possess him for less-than-ideal reasons and presents a fascinating dynamic between the two and what it means to truly live and take responsibility (the good, the bad, the ugly, and all). Be mindful of the tags and warnings, though!

Outgrown (from Spider Lily's Claws): I knew I almost forgot a Harumi one! DR-fic in which Harumi stumbles across the monastery looking for a place to recuperate, and a company-starved Lloyd welcomes her to stay. A fascinating look at a Harumi who's still got her "Evil" instincts but is still trying to act in her best interests, while Lloyd...is Lloyd hgfhgd. I love their back-and-forth bad-idea-good-idea dynamic here a LOOOOOT

[the-pen-pot]

Oooh fic writer asks! Would love to know your answers to 8 & 17 please 🙏

Ohhh, thank you, @hagstoned. Here you go! If anyone else is interested, questions are here:

#8 If you had to write a sequel to a fic, you’d write one for…

Hiraeth, probably. It was so plotty that I didn't give Merlin much chance to bring much modern back to Camelot (apart from some plumbing) and I'd love to have him show the others his memories of London and things. In fact I have loads of little ideas for extras to Hiraeth that would take place after the story. Just... no time in which to write them 🤣

#17 talk about your writing and editing process

Sit. Write 🤣 I'm a pantser. Planning is actively detrimental to my creative process. But more below the cut cos it got long:

So what basically happens is, Monday to Friday, I peel myself out of bed, get the first cup oif about eight cups of tea, and then I sit at my computer and write in the morning. This is normally 3-4 hours of writing, in which I manage maybe 3000 words (on a good day it's more, but that doesn't always happen.)

I use 4thewords, which means I gamify my writing. You beat monsters with your wordcount. It's quite good, because even on a bad day you can feel accomplished.

Editing is a five-ish read-through process, with one read through occuring per day (mostly). It's done on printed out copies because I cannot catch mistakes on-screen

Edit 1: Plot edit. Is the story going in the right direction? Am I happy enough with it? (perfection isn't the goal. We are aiming for "good enough" ebcause perfection is unobtainable.)

(It's after this edit that I post chapters in my drafts section on patreon)

When I'm happy with the plot I use an echo checker to highlight words, because sometimes I get one stuck in my head and repeat it five times in a chapter and it makes my writing look weird.

Edit 2: Grammar, punctuation. Hinky wording edit. I'm looking more at the technical aspect and trying to catch as many mistakes as possible ready for...

Edit 3: Print out chapter, mix up the pages so its all out of order. Start at the bottom of the page. Read the last paragraph forwards. Then the preceding one etc. This is the typos edit. It helps me catch missing words etc. It's a bastard. I hate it. I want to skip it every time, but I always end up catching things so I never do.

Edit 4: An all-over edit. Just a straight read-through to check it's as good as I'd like it to be. Look for typos I may have introduced in previous edits.

This is where I post "finished" chapters on Patreon.

Edit 5: Usually occurs a week after edit 4, with my current posting schedule. This is hte pre-AO3 edit. My brain's had time to forget it's seen these precise words in this precise order.

Read through one more time. Invariably find at least one more typo. Cry. Fix it.

Post on AO3

Despite all that, there will still be errors in chapters on AO3 which I will find, months or even years later, and be deeply ashamed of!

[sundrop-writes]

Current WIPS July 2024*

*IMPORTANT NOTE - these fics won't be posted until mid to late August at least (maybe later - the later my moving date is pushed back, the later the post date of these fics is pushed back). I am delaying editing and posting them because editing is the most difficult part for me, but I will be working on writing new fics up until my moving day. And then after moving day, I will take an official two week break to do nothing, after which I will then start editing and posting these fics.

I just finished the Virgin!Stiles fic that I was working on, so I figured I would post this list again if anybody needs a refresher or if people seeing this in tags see this and wanna follow me. I am heavily considering working on an Isaac/Reader/Erica fic next because they are two characters from the show that I feel heavily inspired by. If you want to see a preview of any of these fics that don't already have one, please let me know!!

Also, my requests for Teen Wolf and The Maze Runner are currently open, (please read my rules before requesting), so if you wanna send me requests for reactions or MLTs for those fandoms, I would really fucking love to work on those (and requests for reactions and MLTs will be posted during the hiatus because I don't have to edit them).

Heaven’s Gate - Daryl Dixon x GN!Reader. Strangers to Lovers/Lovers Reunited. Emotional Angst, Hurt and Comfort, Fluff. Set during Seasons 1-5. You and Daryl get seperated when the Prison falls, and both believe the other person to be dead. But you can't let go of the things your relationship taught you. Eventually, when you're reunited - it's like you never missed a moment apart. (17,100 words est.) - PREVIEW HERE

Untitled Daryl PWP - Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader. Established Relationship. Set during Season 4. Daryl gets jealous, and takes it out on you. (2,300 words est.)

Some Kind Of Disaster - Gally (TMR) x Fem!Reader. Best Friends to Lovers/Lovers Reunited. Emotional Angst, Hurt and Comfort, Smut. Set during The Death Cure. You had every reason to believe Gally was dead, so when a mysterious stranger pulls off his mask and reveals himself to be the one person you had been missing so badly - you are shocked. And then you show him just how badly you had been missing him. (6,800 words est.) - PREVIEW HERE

English Blood // American Heartache - Gally (TMR) x Fem!Reader x Newt (TMR). Established Monogamous Relationship to Polyamory. (Very slight) Emotional Angst and Smut. Set post Death Cure/Safe Haven Era. Newt Lives AU. (Sequel to the above fic.) When you get to the Safe Haven, you believe that you have everything you ever wanted, everything you ever needed. So why do you have a nagging feeling that something is missing? Turns out, that 'missing' thing was the addition of your best friend Newt to your bed, which your boyfriend Gally is more than happy to provide. (20,300 words est.)

Trouble Is - Thomas (TMR) x Fem!Reader. (Pining) Friends to Lovers. Smut/PWP. Sex Pollen. Set during The Scorch Trials. Just as the group finds safety outside of the Maze, you are separated off from everyone as the only girl, and not being able to see you slowly drives Thomas insane. Until one day, he's locked in a room with you - but there's nothing suspicious about that, right? (6,900 words est.)

BRAINWASHED - Stiles Stilinski x Fem!Reader. Pining Best Friends/One-Sided Fantasies. Smut/PWP. Panty Stealing. Stiles has been in love with you for as long as he can remember, and since you both hit high school, that love has become perverted by hormones. But he can't help it. He also can't seem to help it when he steals a pair of your underwear that were seemingly laid out for him - but he can't get too caught up in the logistics when he has a hand around his cock. (6,900 words est.) - PREVIEW HERE

Stupid For You - Stiles Stilinski x Fem!Reader. Pining Best Friends to Lovers. Smut/PWP. Sequel to the above fic. Stiles still has your underwear that he stole, and he accidentally drops them in the locker room - in front of the entire lacrosse team. He lies and says that he got them from a hook-up with you, and surprisingly - you cover for him? But only on the condition that you can turn his lie into the truth. (10,200 words est.)

Blood In The Water - Void!Stiles x Fem!Reader. (Pining) Best Friends to 'Lovers'. Pure Angst. Set during Season 3 (with flashbacks to Season 1). When Void takes control, you worry about the damage that he's inevitably doing to Stiles's body. So you make a deal with him - if he lets Stiles eat, then you'll feed Void with some of your pain. But it's not cuts or broken bones that he wants from you - it's your tears.