#juggling several tags

[pillowspace]

@strawbubbysugar

...I'm noticing a pattern

[lycantropy14]

what's wrong? aren't you coming?

[seventh-district]

Could've left me just the way you found me, but you came and put your wings around me. You went out of your way, to fix what you didn't break.

This song is so incredibly Sam & Darlin' coded and no one can tell me otherwise.

[lots of lyrical analysis below the cut] [there's also a short little fanfic blurb of them stargazing down there too (this post got really out of hand lmao)]

For those not fully caught up, note that the following commentary contains various spoilers for Sam and Darlin's stories.

Note: Unfortunately this song is gendered, using the word 'girl' several times. Which sucks a little bit for immersion purposes, not only for keeping Darlin' gender-neutral, but also because I see this song as a duet between them, and Darlin' obviously wouldn't be addressing Sam with the word 'girl' either. So! As with most songs on their playlist, we're just gonna mentally omit any gendered terms we come across.

Side note: Frustratingly, this is one of those songs that didn't really even need to gender the subject in the first place. No part of the story or message is lost without it. But alas, many songs are like that, and so the playlist-makers of the world shall continue to suffer. [/lh]

Anyways, preamble's over. It's lyric time now yay!

Sam's Part

I was a ten-year train wreck

Technically for Sam I suppose it was 13 years, but ten is close enough (and 'ten' admittedly flows a lot better in the rhythm of the song than 'thirteen' would.) Anyways, we're not here to split hairs, (I have to remind myself), we're just here to point out similarities.

In Sam's Dec. '22 HBW, he says "For the last 13 years or so I haven't had to care too much about how I look. Seemed a little redundant after turnin', considerin' I didn't wanna be around much'a anybody anyway."

I think he's mentioned or alluded to that roughly 13 year period of time more than once, but that's the one I remember best so it's the example I'm using. There's still about 4 Sam audios I've yet to listen to as of making this post, so if I'm missing some Key Lore I'll edit this later. But for now, I don't think Sam has given many specifics on exactly how bad things got during that time. Luckily, 'train wreck' is a pretty broad and subjective term, so it easily covers any degree to which he may have fallen apart during those years.

It also feels like a very 'him' way of quickly brushing over the details of his past/his hurt, as he seems to tend to do with Darlin', (not all the time ofc but it's still something I've noticed) putting his own hurt on the backburner to prioritize and attend to theirs. Even outside of his dynamic with them, I think as a healer, it's something he learned to do. And now he does it with everyone. Put on a brave face, compartmentalize things and unpack them later, etc. I could go on and on but there'll be time for that in other posts I'm sure. For now, lets get back to the song at hand.

With a last-call longneck

Due to personal reasons, I've yet to decide if I want to HC him as having used alcohol as a coping mechanism during that time. I don't recall him having mentioned alcohol much, if at all, (maybe one mention of whiskey that I don't have time to find right now) so I don't think it's necessarily canon that he did, but it's certainly possible. My personal preferences aside, I'll admit it makes for some good additional angst. (And- self-indulgently- it makes some other songs on my playlist for them more fitting.) So, for the sake of this song, let's imagine that he did.

I was searchin', I'd been hurt real bad

This one feels pretty self-explanatory given what Alexis did, (and, if you wanna get even angstier with it, whatever his family did earlier on in his life) so there isn't much commentary to add on my end.

I HC that in spite of 'not wanting to be around anybody', he- like Darlin- still had a tiny part of himself buried deep down that was, in a way, 'searching' for someone to find solace in. (No this isn't me projecting onto them both haha what are you talking about-)

Movin' on, gettin' sidetracked One step forward and five back

This is generally applicable enough that I don't feel the need to give too much of a specific example. Anyone who's recovered or is recovering from trauma knows this non-linear, back-and-forth struggle well already, and I'm sure he was no stranger to it.

If I were to give some examples though, I could point to Darlin's (and subsequently, Sam's) encounter with Alexis at the summit, or the shit that Quinn dredged up about Fredrick and threw at Sam in the interrogation room. Those are both more recent examples and I imagine these lines of the song to be coming from a place of him prior to meeting Darlin', but still, they're some instances where I'm sure he felt like the past was pulling him back in. I'm sure that there's been many throughout those 13 years that we were never witness to.

Not your fault, I was scared to fall

This line reminds me of their 'Cuddles and Confessions' audio. I don't think he ever explicitly said he was 'scared' per se, so afaik there's no specific line I can quote, but in that and every audio prior, he was obviously hesitant to admit, perhaps even to himself, that he was gradually falling for them. Even after the initial confession, there's certain limits of his (e.g. biting) that he carries for far longer, and some that I (and others) HC that he'll carry forever. So this line feels to me like him reassuring Darlin' that his reluctance isn't the fault of them, but his past.

Darlin's Part

You were the star in the pitch black Shine the way on the way back

We don't have any canon instances of them comparing Sam to a star, but I can see it being something they'd say (perhaps less poetically, but the sentiment would be there) one night while laying up on their roof watching the stars with him. Maybe they're dead-tired, talking nonsense with lidded eyes at the end of a long day, fighting sleep in favor of more time spent with him.

"What- what're you pointin' at Darlin'?"

Their hazy focus is trained on the brightest star visible in their line of sight, arm stretched out to the sky above them. "That really bright one, to the... to the left."

Sam does his best to follow their less-than-specific directions of 'to the left', their pointed finger doing little to help given the difference in perspective. Luckily, after all these years, he knows this stretch of night sky like the back of his hand, so it isn't hard to locate the brightest one. Ghosting his fingers up along their arm, he takes their hand in his and brings it back down to earth. "Okay, yeah, I see it now. What about it though?"

"That's you." They say, matter-of-factly.

"That's me?" He questions, humor in his tone.

"Mhm." They nod with finality, blinking slow.

Sam considers the odd statement for a moment before gently correcting them. "I'm uh, I'm pretty sure that's Sirius, actually."

They scoff. "I am being serious."

Sam stifles a laugh into their hair. "No- no I mean- like... what's another name for it... Oh! It's also called the Dog Star."

"C'mon Sam, at least call it the Wolf Star if you're trying to turn this around on me..."

He shakes his head and readies himself to explain further, but they cut him off before he can start. "But no- no, this one isn't about me. That's you."

He decides to play along, finding something endearing in their overtired nonsense. "Okay... then would'ja be so kind as to explain to this confused old man just how, or why that star is me?"

Their frown is audible in their voice as they latch onto the wrong part of his sentence. "You're not old, Sam. ...Do I need to tell Asher to kick the jokes down a notch?"

He smiles at their over-protectivity. "There'll be no need for that, now. Was just a joke, darlin', I promise."

They huff, but thankfully shift focus back to the prior topic. "It's... I dunno. It's just you, Sam. It's... bright. Light. Something warm, out there in the cold dark. Standing out amongst all the rest. Calling to me, stealing my attention. I... I didn't come out here looking for it, but there it is. ...There you were. In the dark. The only bright thing I'd seen in... fuck, in years. Years of chasing fleeting warmth, tripping over myself in the pitch black, falling into... places 'n people I shouldn't have. You were the light in that darkness. Even there, surrounded by the ghost of him. You outshone it. Your warmth didn't hurt. I didn't have to squint when I looked at you. You weren't the blinding sun. You were the brightest star I'd ever seen. You guided me back home."

In the back of their mind, they recall something they once heard, something about light, and time, and distance. Space. Something about... how you can see a star that's already burnt out, because it's light hasn't reached earth yet. The ghost of a star that's already died. Only still perceptible thanks to time, and distance.

They remember Sam's words, once whispered to them on this very roof.

"Whatever your choice is... I'm not gonna live forever. I made that decision a long time ago."

They think about dead stars.

They think about time.

"...-lin'? Darlin'?" Sam's calloused hand slides up their forearm, pulling them out of their thoughts. "There you are. Think I lost ya' for a minute there... you good?"

They look up at Sam, concern creasing his features, shadows cast across his face from the light of the dying stars above him.

They reach out, pulling him down into them. Burying their face into his collar, Sam's concern grows when he feels it saturate with tears. A human might struggle to hear their words, muffled against the thick fabric, but his hearing catches it just fine.

"Don't burn out too quick. Please. I still need you here. I don't- I don't wanna be left in the dark again. Please, please Sam. Don't leave me here. I'm not selfish enough to ask you for forever, but please. Not yet. Not yet. Not yet."

.......Whoopsies! Really, genuinely didn't mean to improv an entire scene there, good god. Also didn't mean to swerve hard into angst at the end but uh. that's what came out! so I'm rolling with it lmao. Aaanyways let's move on, it's getting late and this is a song analysis post, not a fic.

Out of nowhere, answered all my prayers

'Out of nowhere' reminds me of Sam's words from the same HBW video I referenced earlier. "You came into my life like a damn wreckin' ball. There was no preparing for that, clothing or otherwise." While those were Sam's words, not Darlin's, I still feel like they feel similarly to how suddenly Sam came into their life as well. (Not in a bad way, mind you!)

[the significance of 'answered all my prayers' edges into my own personal more headcanon-y/personal/OC-ified Darlin' territory, so we can just gloss over this one for the sake of at least attempting to keep this more universally applicable]

Picked up the towel that I threw in Took in a heart that was ruined

Again, largely self-explanatory I feel. (*proceeds to explain anyways*) I imagine that Darlin' was at the point of throwing in the towel, hellbent on a solo-mission to find Quinn regardless of the danger it posed to them. I doubt they were looking toward the future anymore, (to reference Sam,) fully willing to throw themself at their problems until they really did break.

The specific use of 'ruined' hits hard here, because after everything they went through with Quinn, and especially after he recounted it all to Sam in that interrogation room, I imagine that they really, truly did feel ruined.

Showed me the past ain't a tattoo Loved me even when you didn't have to

These lines in particular make me sick with emotion every time I hear this song, because I feel like they hit the nail on the head for how Darlin' feels.

I'll be here citing various quotes all night that I feel showcase that sentiment, but we don't have time for that! So instead I'm just pointing to the entirety of 'Quinn's Aftermath' video, and leaving you with this single quote from it.

"Everything that he said reflects nothin' on you, and everything on him."

Equally Applicable Lines

And I don't know why Why you saw something in me, baby But you saw right through All the pain, and you came and saved me Yeah, I know you didn't leave me lonely Weren't the one that put the heartbreak on me Picked up the pieces It wasn't the mess that you made Could've left me just the way you found me But you came and put your wings around me You went out of your way To fix what you didn't break

Again, I think these lines are all pretty self-explanatory, and are just as accurate coming from either one of them. To me, at least, their entire dynamic is that they saved each other, in their own ways.

(But I will admit, the final verses about 'going out of your way to fix what you didn't break' are definitely conjuring up memories of Sam in the early days, literally going out of his way to visit and heal Darlin' after their fight with the two vamps. In general, his continued/repeated healing of them after they once again hurt themselves is the very literal definition of fixing what he didn't break.

But! While we may have more blatant examples of Sam being 'the fixer' so to speak, I think he'd argue that Darlin' has done plenty fixing of their own. Physical wounds aren't the only things that need healing, after all.)

-------

[shameless self-promo of my Sam & Darlin' playlist for those few of u interested enough to make it to the very end of this wall of text. if u liked this then u might like some of the other songs on there soooo maybe go check it out and maybe perhaps give it a follow so i can get a little serotonin boost or dopamine or whatever the chemical is that's released when Number Go Up. ...okay that's it i hope u enjoyed my fixation-induced ramblings! thank u and goodnight]

[goldentigerfestival]

Forgot to post this earlier but I did in fact comb the entire Vesperia script to determine how many times he uses ま/まあ throughout the game, along with a few other phrases he uses repeatedly. This counts all of main story, every single sidequest, and every single skit in the game.

Final counts were:

ま/まあ: 280

Ma/Maa; translates to "well". He uses this at the beginning of a sentence usually, but it's sometimes in the middle. "Ma" is usually more quick and snappy. "Maa" is more thoughtful and/or prolonged. Obviously it can vary based on context, but that's the general breakdown.

んじゃ and any variants: 133

Nja, along with variants such as "ja", "soreja", etc. Variants are counted when they're all used to express "let's get going", when they're about to head off ("ja" could be used in a sentence such as "ja/but then, why is xyz like this", etc). They encompass translations such as "well then" (let's get going implied. includes "so then", "then" "alright then", and so on), "we should be off", "let's get going", "let's go", etc. (not to be confused with 行こう(ikou), 行くぜ, (ikuze), and other similar versions of this phrase. That can also mean "let's go", but any instances of Yuri using that particular phrase was not counted because it wasn't a variant of, specifically, んじゃ, which is also his most common "let's go" ja variant).

おい / おいおい: 66

Oi/Oi oi; translates to "hey"/"hey, hey", though "oi" is more or less an accepted word in English nowadays.

おっと: 12

Otto (not to be confused with "oto", referring to sound); an expression of surprise that can translate roughly to "whoa there" (which is the most common translation I do see for it and what I'd use in most cases too, context of course varying). The reason I included this one despite it being so seemingly low in number is because it's not a particularly common expression, much less one used multiple times by a single character? It's so rare from anyone else, which is just a regular thing relative to Yuri and his dialogue/speech (i.e. most characters sparingly use phrases repeatedly, as compared to Yuri... as you can see lol. Other characters use these words/phrases, but nowhere near as regularly, if regularly at all).

Realized along the way I should've included やれやれ (yare yare, "good grief", "oh dear", "oh boy" etc), but by the time I realized I should have in case it was an interesting count, I was too far into the script to be able to handle going all the way back through it LOL.

No. No, I am not joking that Yuri used ま/まあ 279 times throughout the course of the game. That is to say, it could be more if I missed any, but on the assumption I didn't, that's where it stands.

Why do I love this so much? Because it's a very specific character quirk of a character I adore. I'm very fond of his repetition. Thank you.

[vaultsixtynine]

more late act 3 stuff. adding "quests" in my brain for the fun of it and massively reorganizing things to hit certain beats i need to hit

a) additional pre-bhaal-temple "quest" (cutscene where you mitigate how bad something is but it will still be Bad) where you are actively aware that [orin]* (more on this in a second) is taking your party member - i want her to be a bit scarier because she's my favorite of the three xoxo. the timing on this is what's frustrating me because i need there to be a chunk of time where anathema is in active despair but astarion finally feels like he has his shit together. so. hmm. before cazador but not by much.

b) pre-facing-cazador Moment...... not sure if this is while you're in the mansion itself (which, btw, i'm assuming she was cut but i really wanted there to be a super fucked up vampire hiding in the attic like a wretched creacher (as many many notes intimated there would be) and i wanted to be able to help her. i'm adding that in my brain also. - anyway, not sure if this is while the spawn are attacking (using them to ferry an object of control? or using one of them as a direct conduit? much to consider) or while you're on the "above-ground" portion of the mansion, but a moment where cazador does pierce astarion's relative immunity to his control (as he does when you're actually facing him) and exerts his will to get a little stab happy on a party member - probably ana bc. gestures. this of course Of Course sets astarion the fuck off, for good reason, and it's not that he shouldn't be angry but he should be careful - cazador is fucking with him. to think that he would silently sit in the basement and merely wait while astarion's creeping down to him is foolish.

hmm now i'm trying to figure out Timeline and i think orin might be the last thing ana deals with before the elder brain (besides getting the orphic hammer because she is also waiting until THEE last moment for that) Because her doing it alone and having people who say "why the fuck did you do that, we are coming to help you" is very critical in my brain and also, again, orin has more stuff going on / is scarier.

so to that end, and also because i need to figure out the timing of her personal quest (needs to happen Before orin but i'm kind of handwave past that point), and BECAUSE HE HAS A WHOLE RAPTURE-ASS PRISON and BELIEVES IN HOLDING HOSTAGES, i think miss gortash becomes frustrated with ana's seeming unwillingness to deal with the bhaalists (and because of Other Factors, this worries him immensely bc he's afraid a pawn has figured out too much for her own good) and does kidnap somebody. but it's still very much framed as a bhaalist kidnapping, sans orin coming to say it in person. she does still come to demand a duel a bit later and is like "lol you fell for that? gortash took your person. i would simply kill them. and i can - since i'm here in your camp, soft and beautiful as silk" and then fucks off immediately in that annoying way she has. to that end, gortash is smart enough to Not take astarion, too aware of his skillset. sorry gale. into the prison cell and a fun little anti-mage collar for you.

that doesn't mean that orin doesn't continue to fuck with her, though. without a hostage, her leverage is exerting the bhaal blood thing to make anathema's life fucking miserable, and she DOES. ana's control is waning, getting so threadbare as to be see through, and the fear of becoming just a husk who could hurt anyone around her at any time is what drives her to seek resolution by herself. because i also think that durge should be a fucking scary scary scary experience if you've been rejecting it by the time you're this deep in act 3. camp isn't safe. sleeping isn't safe. walking around on busy streets isn't safe. nothing and no one is safe from her, and she isn't safe from bhaal.

i have. okay. another post after this one that is way less filled with spoilers and is more about characterization so i'll make it separate

[lexsssu]

Light (Sung Jinwoo)

TAGS: Jinwoo/Wife!reader, a/b/o dynamics, yandere, possessive behavior, death threats, breeding, impregnation, oneshot Ao3 ver. | Ko-fi | Commissions (OPEN)

‘E-Rank Hunter’ Sung Jinwoo, a title that followed him wherever he went.

Despite being a Hunter, his power was barely above an ordinary human aside from his slightly more durable constitution and slightly increased healing factor. 

So it’s only natural that he’d always get hurt. Hell, he’d even nearly gotten killed several times already too!

It’s not that Jinwoo wanted to be a Hunter in the first place, because aside from the danger, others also made fun of him for his weakness. Even the pay was surprisingly not that great.

Unfortunately, someone in his mid-20s who lacked any viable skills that could land him a normal, stable job could only work for the Hunter’s Association as one of their Hunters thanks to their medical aid. Had it not been for that, he wouldn’t have been able to afford the millions of won in medical bills he owed to the hospital that took care of his mother. 

It’s not even just his mother that he had to provide for, but there was also his little sister and…

“Look Yeonjin, it’s Papa!”

Worn out from another hard days’ work, E-Rank Hunter Sung Jinwoo felt all the fatigue in his body seemingly melt away into nothingness as the sight and scent of his wife and child soothed his weary soul.

“Baba!” Yeonjin babbled excitedly as his father made a beeline straight towards you both.

“Welcome home, honey.” You press a kiss to the corner of his lips, smiling up at him with those beautiful eyes he always finds himself lost in.

This is why even if he didn’t want to, he would still participate in these Association supervised raids.

No sacrifice is too great when it comes to his loved ones and regardless of how incompetent he was as a Hunter, Jinwoo will do everything in his power to ensure that they are cared and provided for.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You’ve been with Sung Jinwoo ever since you were both just awkward teenagers in high school. When his mother succumbed to Eternal Slumber and left the two siblings to fend for themselves, instead of leaving you surprised Jinwoo and moved into their cozy little home and took it upon yourself to keep the house running.

While Jinwoo did his best to provide for the family’s needs, you would ensure that Jinah and the house was taken care of, this of course also included the man himself whenever he came home from a raid. You even managed to get a remote job that helped with the bills in spite of juggling that with your online college classes as well. 

You and Jinwoo had gone through so much together over the past decade so was it any surprise you’d end up married and with a child? 

Former friends and schoolmates might have tried to dissuade you time and time again to leave him, pitying you for spending your youth making ends meet and watching over your comatose mother-in-law, Jinah, and now your own baby.

But you don’t need their ‘advice’ when it all basically boiled down to having you leave your family because you ‘deserved better.’

They are already what’s best for you.

Why can’t they see that?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“ How are you and Sung Jinwoo? Sorry I couldn’t check up on you guys sooner. Life’s been pretty hectic on my end.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t attend your baby shower before! I had an important appointment that I couldn’t bail out on back then. Why don’t we go out for coffee to catch up?”

“...way too long since we last got together! Our whole class is gonna have a reunion this weekend. Everyone will be stoked to see you and Sung Jinwoo there— ”

Beep.

You don’t have the chance to reply to the latest call you received from another ‘old friend’ when your husband pressed the ‘end’ button in one swift movement. Though his face looked impassive, his scent clearly revealed his agitation…not to mention the shadows that seemed to curl spread from the soles of his feet.

“First they tell you that I’m not good enough for you and that you should leave me, but now they’re all tripping over themselves just to get to me through you…” His lips stretched into a snarl, power rolling off of him in waves at their blatant shamelessness.

Jinwoo’s inner alpha snorted and growled, the mere thought of these impertinent swine daring to involve themselves with his mate even if to gain some sort of favor from him made him see red. 

How dare they?! He will rip and tear into their bodies and reap their souls to become his puppets if they so much as even approach you. Did they think he was bound by the rules of ordinary mortals? Foolish! 

The hunter’s alpha grinned diabolically, cackling from within the confines of his soul at thought of giving them their just desserts.  

“My big, strong alpha…Always willing to jump into the fray to provide for and protect us…How can I even think about choosing anyone else?” You crooned and purred at him, the soft sounds and your calming scent enveloping him and taming the shadows that once agitatedly tried to claw their way out of him to carry out his will. 

Burrowing into his arms, you embrace his waist and nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck as best as you could considering his height had also shot up recently. A few soothing kisses and kitten licks against the skin of his neck later, Jinwoo’s darkness ceased pouring out of him.

Because now he focused on wholeheartedly pouring every last drop of cum into your quivering pussy, thrusting weakly even as his fat knot plugged you up. Your lower belly bulged with the amount of cum he’d already fucked into you, but he still didn’t think it was enough.

At the rate he was going, he’s definitely gonna knock you up again.

Not that you were complaining. It was about time for Yeonjin to finally have a sibling to love.

[sag3-g]

Nightwing Joins the Justice League Fic Recs

Since I've recently become obsessed with the "Nightwing joins the justice league and no one knows he's related to Batman" plot, here is every single one I've read and enjoyed

Batting in the Wings by Jedi_Olympian

| 1/1 | 10,638 | Teen and Up | BirdFlash |

Love is an amazing thing, so when the Justice League believes that their resident paranoid isolationist has found it, they’re happy for him, even if Wally was hardcore crushing on the lover boy.

Or another Justice League thinks Batman and Nightwing are dating.

Come home, the kids miss you by andromarche

| 6/6 | 14,427 | Teen and Up | Multiple ships |

"Well, you've obviously developed better taste since your thing with Batman," Barry said with a laugh.

Nightwing tensed, and paused, "Since my what?"

"Sorry, was it meant to be a secret?" Hal said apologetically, "We all know that you and Batman were like, a thing, at least at some point."

Or

Nightwing joins the Justice League and through a series of misunderstandings, the League jumps to conclusions about his relationship with Batman. Their conclusion: Batman and Nightwing are divorced.

(Tagged teen for swearing and some very light making out)

Cryptids in the Watchtower by Grammar_Beane

| 4/4 | 6,202 | Teen & Up | No ships

The kid glared at Batman with folded arms. Batman glared back in the same position. It was like a mirror, if the mirror de-aged someone several years. Something suddenly clicked in Hal's brain, and before he could stop himself he blurted out, "Oh my God, is that your son?!"

- or -

Batman's identity was a closely guarded secret, and the details of his personal life were even more so. Unfortunately for the Justice League, when a surprise video call raises countless questions about Batman's freaky, spooky, way-too-many and way-too-young associates, getting answers is about as simple and pleasant as pulling teeth.

- or -

the Batfam meets the Justice League and Nightwing juggles monkey wrenches in the background

You didn’t know? By heytheresunshine

| 1/1 | 2,522 | General | Minor BirdFlash |

Nightwing joins the Justice League, and the team learns something new about their resident Bat.

The One Where the Justice League Almost Didn’t Figure it Out By batsandthebirds

| 8/8 | 16,293 | Teen & Up | No ships

“I can vouch for him,” Cyborg said, sitting up straighter. “We’ve worked together before. I can’t promise he’d want the job though. He works out of Bludhaven, last I checked.”

Dinah perked up from where she was slumped against the table next to Oliver. “That’s next to Gotham. Batman, what do you know?”

All eyes immediately turned to where Batman sat with his arms crossed, looking impassive as always. There was a long moment of silence and the corners of Batman’s mouth turned ever so slightly downward. Finally, in a flat tone of voice that gave no more away than his face ever did, he said, “He’s… well trained. Fast. Could be useful.”

...

Also known as, the League eventually figured out that Nightwing is Batman's son, but it takes a while.

Based on this post that I initally wrote on my Tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/bats-and-the-birds/749291233997963264/there-are-a-lot-of-fics-about-the-justice-league?source=share

Nightwing Nominated By Cruz1702

| 1/1 | 1,967 | General | No ships |

Batman looked around the room, “Anyone else we'd like to review before we decide the new leaguers?”

“yes" said Flash, "I nominate Nightwing”.

Hal scoffed as he put his feet on the table "yeah sure, and I nominate the tooth fairy"

Or, the one where the JL doesn't know about the batfamily, but have heard rumours of a vigilante in Bludhaven.

In Love With Justice By Jedi_Olympian

| 1/1 | 9,819 | Teen & Up | SuperBat & BirdFlash

Batman is notorious for his secretive ways, so when the Justice League meets someone he associates with, they naturally have questions. The questions continue to pile up when it’s clear that Batman is rather. . . close to him.

Or the Justice League thinks Batman and Nightwing are dating.

Last Updated: January 17th 2025

[fanaticsnail]

Shameless: 2/3

Masterlist Here, Part 1 Here

Word Count: 6,901

(Image Source)

Synopsis: Your shamelessness has gotten you in trouble with your captain, Trafalgar Law. When he sent you to your workshop, the last thing you expected was to welcome the foreign captain into your personal space. Bonding over tinkering, you learn more about a man who you reciprocates your shameless flirtations.

Notes: And just like that, part 2 is done! Sorry for the wait, but had to ensure language was perfect. First time writing for Kid split into two parts - 12,195 words (what is wrong with me).

Themes: NSFW language, flirtatious conversation, grinding against a wall, kissing, biting, licking, mentions of missing limbs, mentions of scars, shamelessness, Kid likes you, soft moments, mostly flirting, heart-pirate!reader x captain!kid, afab!reader but can be read as gn.

Tag List: @sordidmusings @feral-artistry @writingmysanity @gingernut1314 @i-am-vita @cinnbar-bun

Song suggestion: What it is - Doechii

“Gah,” you scolded yourself, kicking the leg of your workbench, “I-... I am an idiot. Why am I like this?” you clapped your hands over your eyes, dragging your skin down beneath your fingertips to hide your embarrassment. You had finally found a man who was everything you were looking for, depicting your attraction to him by flirting hard with him in front of your crew. Perhaps you had come on too strong. Perhaps he found your words too vulgar, too provocative in nature to depict your incessant need for him. 

You picked up your wrench and began tightening several bolts and screws attached to your latest project, ensuring everything was ready to be examined by your captain. The heat of the office became too much for you, prompting you to unzip your boiler suit and remove your arms from the sleeves, tying them around your waist to secure them in place. Grasping your heavy, woven gloves, you tightened the straps around your forearms and scoffed at your idiocy further. 

“I can see why Law wanted to hide me away,” you uttered, picking up your arc welding torch and face shield, “I am an embarrassment to him and my crew.” You flicked on your speaker, melodies and harmonies roaring to life at high volume. You sighed, flicking down your mask and igniting the tip of your tool to begin welding metals together.

The music and sparking metal disguised the opening and closing of your workshop door, the looming figure of Eustass Kid’s shadowy approach ignited its silhouette and hid it from your masked view. You muttered beneath your mask as you whipped the tool away from your project, smothering the flame while twirling the wrench in your non-dominant hand. 

As the melody swelled, you sang along to the lyrics and augmented your voice while tightening your newly molded bolt to ensure it was secured in place. You raised your mask over your head, plonking it down while gathering your augmented goggles to ensure your work was appropriately executed. Without turning your focus from your project, you reached behind you and began tapping your desk with splayed fingertips to search for your hammer and wire brush. 

Kid watched as you expertly twirled the tools between your four covered fingers while throwing your brush in a juggling flourish to your non-dominant hand. He was left standing dumbstruck in awe at every flex of your bare back muscles, every expert touch, every hyper-focussed gaze and how your diaphragm belted the melody in perfect time and tonality. He had every intention of taking Law up on the offer of watching you work, while he used the time to taunt you with the fact he knew he could do your job better. 

As he found himself watching the rhythm you set for yourself with your expertise and precision, he was left feeling a foreign swell within his chest once again. You had been shamelessly flirting with him earlier, in such a way that initially startled and enraged him. He couldn’t believe you would risk insulting him in front of your own captain, let alone the danger that came with his own pirate crew. 

He continued to watch you work with your hands to create a masterpiece of mechanical art, both dangerous and violent in nature - his attention was captured completely. You were focussed, your hands tearing through metal and sifting through bolts with practiced precision. His eyes were truly held hostage, shamelessly raking over your body and unable to rip themselves away. You were perfect.

Would you look as focussed on him as he rammed his cock in your mouth? Or perhaps your brows would elevate and lips curl in bliss while he harshly snaps his hips against yours to chase your mutual ecstasy. Would your words only get more filthy the more he fucks you? Or would they turn into mewling gasps and keening groans as he demonstrated just how many settings his mechanical arm had. At that thought, he glanced down to his metallic limb, his index finger and thumb clenching together as he thought on it further.

Did you find his severed limb repulsive? You made no complaint while his prosthetic hand was circling your neck and caging you beneath it. In fact, you looked eager to receive such a violent touch from him. Your lust was depicted all over your face, never once breaking your eyes from seeking his own. You could have anyone you want, looking the way you do. Why him? Did you want him, or were you simply using him to satiate your own unbridled curiosity?

He was so caught up in his own unhinged and perverse thoughts, he never noticed you turning around and silently gasping in shock. You become immediately lost in the fact the man you were just fantasizing about was standing in your personal workshop, distracted by his metal arm by his side. You cautiously placed your tools down on your workbench, removing the heavy gloves from your hands, and leant your hips back against your desk. You hooked your ankles, crossing your arms over your chest and allowed yourself the luxury of examining him further.

The music continued to blast over the speakers, the song switching to the next with a slow fade and swell into its crescendoed beginning. Kid slowly drew his eyes away from his arm, startling himself by meeting with your eyes baring directly into his own. You flicked off the music with your index finger before relacing your arms within each other once again. You both fell into an awkward silence, neither of you truly knowing what to say to one another.

“Here to watch the show,” you broke the silence with the flirtatious hum of your voice, “Or to make good on your threat of a good time?” 

Kid continued to be held in perplexed silence, allowing you to study his body a little further. ‘Captain Kid,’ you repeated in your mind. This man was a skilled captain, one your own captain deemed worthy enough to form an alliance with. You would love to get to know him further, but all thoughts swirling within your mind were as filthy as back bog water. 

“They mutually exclusive?” his smirk quirked at the corner, his vibrant lip paint decorating his lips with a partially glossy sheen, “And what happened to you calling me ‘Sir’?”

“You’re in my space,” you shrugged, pouting your lips and elevating your brows, “If anything, you should be calling me ‘Sir’ in here.” 

“Ooh,” he taunted with a harsh and low growl, “Cocky in your workshop, are you?” he taunted you, his tone dripping with feigned fear. His smile only grew further up his face at your agitation rising on your features, “Apologies, Sir. Didn’t mean to interrupt your concentration, Sir.” 

You scoffed, unlacing your hands and allowing Kid to get a proper look at your exposed flesh. His breath hitched, catching completely within his throat as he allowed the swell within his chest to grow deeper. Your brow arched up, allowing yourself the same luxury of ogling his body with your eyes while gripping the counter behind you.

“Gonna stop spurting filth at me, then?” Kid whispered before he could stop the words from leaving his lip, “Or are you as provocative with every Nakama meeting with your crew?” You rolled his questions over your mind.

“I’ll grant you a partial ‘yes’ and ‘no’ to both questions,” you shrugged, hands still clutching the bench behind you for support, “I am known for my vulgarity, but I do have the ability to behave when asked nicely.” Kid hummed in response, choosing to not engage with the conversation further than that. His heavy boots wove past you, his focus now switching to your project behind you. 

“Wanna tell me ‘bout this?” he tapped the larger, steel barrel of the base of your project. You rotated your neck, feeling a click relieve itself within the rotation.

“It’s Project Battle-Surge,” you hummed, turning and walking away from your workbench, “Been at it for a little while now, and I’ve almost got him ready.”

“Him?” he furrowed his brows, sparing a small glance your way, noticing your focus was on his metal harm hanging limply by his left side, “Alright, Sunshine. I’ll make you a deal. I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.” You snapped your eyes up to meet with his, watching as he bobbed his chin to shift your focus back onto his mechanical arm. 

“You’ll tell me about how it was made? Show me how it works?” You asked him, your eyes widening and smile elevating to showcase your wonderment. He chuckled at your tone, his own eyes darting over to your own mechanical project longingly.

“Show you?” he scoffed, glancing over to the project behind you, “Baby, if that thing is what I think it is: I’ll take the damn thing off for you and let you have a turn.” 

“There you go again; threatening me with a good time,” you cooed flirtatiously at him, testing his boundaries by brushing your fingertips along the flesh of his right arm from his elbow to his fingers. You removed your hand from his, placing it on your project, “I’m willing to talk to you about him. He’s forged for war: hopefully going to function as both a sentinel tool, and a suit of wearable armor. Just trying to come up with a name for him that’s not just ‘Total BS’.”

Kid’s roar of laughter ricocheted around the room, pumping your chest with the fluttering wings of butterflies and a flush to rise to swell your cheeks. After he stifled his cackle, he shook his head and cradled his head in the flesh of his palm.

“No, no. That’s perfect. ‘Total BS’,” he reached up to his shoulders, removing his weighty jacket and placing it on your workbench. His bare skin was exposed to you, the trail of scars running from his face down his neck, to his absent arm, down his chest and stomach holding you hostage, “I love it, truly. A perfect name for a perfect creation. Definitely deserves a little bit of knowledge about my arm.” He maneuvered his mechanical arm, flexing the wired muscles within and he began removing the straps holding it in place. 

“Didn’t expect to be doin’ this today. Don’t normally enjoy takin’ the damn thing off and on again,” his brow focussed, teeth clenching as he sucked in a strained breath while removing the prosthetic limb from his stumped flesh, “But I think you’ll get a kick outta it.”

For each spurt of ‘Total BS’ from you, Kid would reflect knowledge about his mechanical arm. As you powered your mechanical man on, Kid showcased how to use his arm; how he tended to it and kept it in top condition. 

As the minutes turned into hours, your buzzed rapport continued to get more and more excitable. You felt both on edge and at ease beside him, both as passionate about this particular interest as the other was. Your brilliant and enthusiastic smiles were reflected within one anothers, both allowing the giddiness to rise within you and prolong discussion about your mechanical wonders. 

All of the questions were ‘the right ones’, all of the excitement was founded in ‘the right places’. You both felt drawn into each other, leaning into each other's warmth; your bare flesh brushing with his as if you’d known him for a lifetime. As you sat with Kid’s dismembered prosthetic in your lap, fawning over the intricate designs and pieces; he was just as enamored by the large suit of armor you had skillfully created.

He snuck a few hidden and weighted glances at you, heart swelling with longing. He craved how you’d feel beneath his hand, how you’d taste on his tongue beneath his painted lips. He felt his body draw itself closer to yours in each passing moment, as a magnet collided and stuck against a metallic force. He wanted you so desperately, he could barely contain his incessant need for you. 

You stood, bending over to lift the heavy arm and place it down on your workbench - Kid’s eyes shamelessly following the plump curvature of your covered ass as you stooped. The material of your boiler suit dipped seductively with every step, Kid’s dangerous swelling growl beginning to click and crackle in his chest the longer he stared at you. You hummed thoughtfully, finally completely understanding the concept of his arm, picking up a polishing cloth and shining lacquer. 

“It looks like you haven’t taken it apart and re-welded the underbolts for a little while,” you added with a frown while poking at the bolt with your prongs, “Did you want me to take them off, clean it up a little bit,” you waved the towel, flicking it out to ensure it was clean and sanitary, “I could solder it back together for you when I’m done, if you want.” 

Kid was startled, his loud voice no longer gracing the air with its presence. Being met with his silence, you turned around to face him, cocking your head to the side as you studied his face. His expression was not easy for you to read, vacant with a small aura of violent aggression rising in his eyes. Reading it as cause for offense from one tinkerer to another, you quickly straightened your stance, holding your hands out and frantically waving them in front of you. 

“No, no, no! I didn’t mean to offend you” you attempted to suck back in your words, desperately craving to build your rapport with this tinkerer-captain you had grown to admire, “I just figured, since you’re in my workshop, I’d offer my body to be put to good use for you.” At that comment, you mentally slapped yourself for your unintentional double-meaning.  

He straightened his spine, swooping forwards and lumbering his hulking form over your smaller body, caging you beneath his powerful aura. You squeaked out a small, shocked peep when he grasped your left arm within his right palm, thumb, and large fingers. Stooping forward, he forced his forehead to forge against your own and pushed your body backwards until your bare flesh met with the cool of the metal wall. 

“You want me to put your body to good use?” he hissed out a low growl through clenched teeth, “You got it, Sunshine.” 

Without a further word, Kid surged his face forwards and claimed your parted lips with his own. There was no subtlety, no timidness, and absolutely no hesitation to be found against his lips. His body burned with violent passion and intensity, brows furrowing and sucking in a harsh inhale of sharpened breath through his pointed nose. 

His teeth bit and bruised your bottom lip, tongue pushing past your lips and dominating yours without restraint. He raked his tongue sloppily against your own, sliding it throughout every inch of your parted lips you exposed to him. You responded to his unrestrained passion by hooking your arms around his thick neck, weaving your fingers in his red hair. 

Stapling your hips with his own, you felt deliciously hopeless and caged between his body and the metallic surface of the Polar Tang’s steel walls. You tilted your head up, allowing him to claim all of you he wanted to with his lips, body, and desperately grasping hand. Angling his stumped arm against the wall, he dragged his fingers harshly down your bicep and halted at your hips. He aggressively circled his arm behind your waist and violently clamped his fingers and thumb over the bone of your hip and hoisted you effortlessly within the air.

You parted your legs and hooked them over his hips, your feet joining at the ankles to anchor your body against his. He growled against your lips, nipping harshly at the corner of your mouth and jaw; before leaving a fluttering trail of crimson lip-paint and pinching bruises down your neck to your rapidly beating pulse. You gasped as he clamped his lips, teeth and tongue over your flesh - whimpering as a particularly harsh bite found purchase against your neck, prompting your eyes to flutter shut. 

Crying out your desperate longing for him had a rumbling chuckle vibrating against your neck. Every action he surged against you had your craving for more of his unwithheld brutality, both satisfied in receiving his touch and longing for more he could give to you. He rolled his hips against your own, feeling the growing hardness produced beneath his leathery pants. 

Your thoughts became more filthy the longer you focussed on what more he was hiding away from you, prompting you to grind your covered body against his own in response. Kid groaned, rutting into your body further by pressing you into the wall to inhibit your ability to do anything other than take what he was giving to you. Opening your eyes, you glanced down at his face as he began to nip and suck at your collar bone. 

The scars reflected silver within the darkening hum of false, electrical light. His eyes were closed and brow deep in concentration as he focussed on marking you with his mouth. You followed the trail of his scar down his neck to his shoulder, mapping your way down to his absent left arm. Every part of him was beautiful to you, the lightning marks of heavy violence depicted on his flesh showcasing how much he endured in his past - and how strong he was to overcome it. 

Sensing your shift in focus, Kid halted his marking and looked up into your eyes, noticing their fixation being solely on his missing limb. He sucked in a deep, angry breath through his grimacing teeth and his brow slunk lower in agitation.

“You that bothered by a missin’ arm, Sunshine?” he growled through clenched teeth, your eyes immediately snapping over to meet with his own, “And here I thought you liked me.” Your pupils were blown with lust, lips parted and panting and cheeks flushed with a rising warm heat. 

Without hesitation, you slowly revealed your tongue to him and used the pointed tip to lick a long stripe up his scarred flesh. Refusing to tear your eyes away from his, you swirl your tongue against his skin and map the scar with your mouth in open and passionate kisses. Once making your way up his bicep and neck, you pressed a chaste and playful kiss against his scarred cheek quickly with a smile.

“Not at all disturbed,” you chirped happily with a flutter of your half-hooded eyelashes, “I like you,” you angled your head, brushing the tip of your nose with his own, “And I am prepared to show you how much I admire every inch of you you’re willing to share with me.” Eustass Kid gulped a dry swallow of air in an attempt to return the saliva to his mouth. 

“F-Fuck,” Kid gasped, awestruck by your promiscuity and provocation alongside your cheerful disposition. You giggled at him, pressing another hasty kiss against his scarred cheek, trailing a flutter of your lips over his injured eye and back down his face again to the corner of his lips. 

“If we start this,” he began, gaining your attention back on him, “You’ll tell me to stop if you can’t handle it, won’t ya?” he whispered against your lips, anchoring his hips against yours to pin you in place while retracting his hand from your waist to caress your cheek. He bore his intense auburn eyes into yours, angrily growling, “Answer me.”

Your eyes widened, lips falling apart in shock. Pulling your face away from his, you unwove your fingers from his hair and secured them against his shoulders, leaning your face and nuzzling it into his calloused palm. 

“Yes, Sir,” you whispered against his palm, pressing a gentle kiss against the warm center of his hand, “But understand this,” you cautioned him, eyes turning serious as you met with his own, “There’s a lot I can take before I’d ever dream of telling you to stop.”

Eustass Kid groaned at your words, hunching forward to sink his teeth once more against your clavicle. He knit his fingers against the base of your hair, tugging it back to expose more of your flesh while rutting his hips against yours. You mewled for him, taking each violent act of unbridled passion as it came from the hulking figure between your thighs. Each cruel bite, lick, suck and kiss burnt heavenly against your skin; pumping your blood to elevate your pulse with every ministration from Kid. 

As he licked a dangerous and intentional stripe along the crevice of your cleavage, tracing the curvature of your breasts with the tip of his tongue; the speakers roared to life with Trafalgar Law’s bored voice depicting orders through the powered system.

“All crews and captains return to the top deck. We’ve docked, mealtime set and are waiting. Come and get it.” 

Both you and Kid groaned in frustrated unison, feeling as pent up in lust as one another. You hooked your arms over his shoulders, pulling him desperately closer to your body while pressing heated kisses against his temple and hairline. He panted, enjoying each moment he spent within your arms and between your legs.

Whether he was ready to admit it or not, Eustass Kid had not experienced such a willing and enthusiastic lover to welcome him between their parted thighs in such a long time. The way your chest heaved with panted breath, your lips hungrily seeking out more of his skin, while your fingernails raked down his exposed flesh had his breath hitching and blood rushing to every crevice of his body. He was reveling in each moment you granted him - every worshipful touch, and every kiss you peppered him with. 

He could not comprehend how someone so intelligent, someone so skilled with their craft, clung to him with such lustful passion. If given enough time, he could truly see himself partnered with such a person as you. A fellow tinkerer; a person as nasty as he was with vulgar language and promiscuous expression. 

“We gotta stop, Sunshine,” Kid growled into your jawline, pressing his lips to vibrate against your jugular, “C’mon, your captain’s given’ ya orders.” 

“And here you were offering me an out, Sir,” you gasped, tracing his cheek with your parted lips and playfully nipping at his cheek with your teeth, “Do you want to stop?”  

He groaned again in frustration at your words, eyes rolling back in his skull while he attempted to harbor his restraint. He pressed a dangerous roll of his hips against your own, testing both his and your willingness to part from one another. As you mewled a cry of his name, he truly realized he was the one that needed to break off this encounter with you, in favor of maintaining his Nakama with the two crews. 

“Are you that shameless you’ll make me be the one to call off this little tryst to bring you to dinner?” He growled, tugging on your hair to withdraw your lips from their lustful attack on his painted skin. 

“Yes,” you gasped out, grinding your hips down onto his hardening cock beneath his tight pants. He groaned both in frustration at your admission, alongside the fact he truly did not want to part from his place between your legs to attend something as boring as a formal dinner. 

“Fucking hell, Sunshine,” he cursed at you, biting at the flesh of your neck while grinding his hips up into yours, “At this rate, I’d take you to dinner just to fuck you on the dining table in front of everyone.”

“Please,” your begging tone cried for him. His eyes widened in shock, tearing his face away from your skin to glare at you. He was perplexed, unsure if you were truly begging for him here and now, or if you wanted him to claim you in front of the three crews engaging together. 

“Are you that shameless? You’d let me claim you in public like that?” he groaned into you, his grimace splitting his face in a puzzled expression.

“Honey,” you spoke, your voice cutting through the air like a guillotine with its precise clarity, “I’d likely tell Bepo to run first, but my crew already knows how much of a freak I am,” you surged forward, a playful nip pressed against the tip of his nose, “It’s your crew I’d worry about. Also, the Straw-Hats,” you confessed, pressing a trail of kisses against his temple, cheek and corner of his lips, “But I have demonstrated my incessant shamelessness to them in the past.”

Eustass Kid saw red. He, immediately, felt a surge of need to understand exactly what you had showcased to the Straw-Hat crew prior. If it was the flirty chef, that was fine by him - that blond flirts with everything that moves. He had even witnessed him flirt with a feminine-shaped tree in encounters past. If it was the green-haired swordsman who felt your touch, experienced your lips against his own - that was something else entirely. 

“Who,” his gruff growl through clenched teeth hissed at you. You took your bottom lip between your teeth, feeling the ignition in dangerous passion within the taut flex of his muscular shoulders. After taking a moment to collect your swirling thoughts, too wrapped in the feeling of Kid’s scorched flesh pressing against your own, you uttered your answer to him.

“Roronoa Zoro,” you gasped, soothing your fingertips against his shoulders and holding him firmly against yourself. You felt the swell of jealousy form within Kid’s biceps, trapping you beneath them by caging you further against the wall. He thrust his body forwards, his lips colliding with the sensitive flesh of your shoulder and clamping his teeth down in a punishing brutality. 

“It was only one time,” You cried out, pain melding into pleasure at his rough bite. 

“And I’ll make you forget all about the one time when it’s my cock splitting you open,” he growled against your neck, his tongue darting out to soothe over the vicious mark he claimed against your skin, “You’ll likely forget how to walk, too. Gonna need to be carried everywhere.”

“You offering?” you managed to gasp, feeling Kid’s lips travel higher up your neck to trace the trail of lip paint and bruises back up to meet with your lips. As he continued to bruise you with his passionate and violent kisses, the powered system roared to life with another dictation from your captain.

“Once again: All crew and captains are required above deck for meal time. Final warning.”

Kid’s rumbled growl vibrated your skin beneath his lips, his hips pinning you completely against the wall once more as he argued with himself whether he truly desired tearing himself away from you in this moment, or claim you completely within his arms. Should he not conclude the pleasantries with the two crews, would it truly mean the end of an alliance between the three ships?

“Dinner first,” his voice reverberated its rumble against your flesh, “fucking after.” You whined at his promising confession, squeezing his hips between the firm grip of your thighs. 

“Promises, promises,” you gasped your irritation, as you allowed him to shepherd your feet to the ground with his right arm. He groaned his own annoyance into your cheek, kneading the flesh of your waist once more within his palms.

He looked down at your body. He admired the art he had created on your flesh: marks of his trailing lip paint emphasizing every bite and kiss he had bruised against your skin. As his eyes met with yours once more, he witnessed the depiction of his future within their rotund irises. He found you incredibly beautiful, every aspect of you flawless in make. 

“By my side for dinner?” his brow cocked up at his request, his fingertips locating his heavy coat alongside his prosthetic limb. As he equipped himself with both objects, you adjusted your uniform over your shoulders and zipped up your boiler uniform.

“Your side?” you asked him, turning to face him. Your fingertips found his collar, adjusting the fabric against his throat, “You think you could pry me off your lap to simply sit beside you?” 

Although remaining stoic externally, Eustass Kid was enthusiastically screaming internally. He couldn’t believe your willingness to be by his side: A Heart-Pirate crewman showcasing their lust for a foreign pirate captain they had only just met. Although only spending a few hours together, Kid never wanted to part from you. He was already formulating bribes he could pay Law with to buy your loyalty away from him. 

As your eyes once again met with his, he realized there was truly nothing he could find, buy, or create to pry you from your crew. You were theirs, but he wanted you so desperately to be his. 

You drew your thumb up to his lips, soothing over the smeared paint in an attempt to fix its smudge to rejoin his lips instead of spilling over his lips. You bit your lip and furrowed your brow in concentration while joining your other hand on his face to fix his skin and hair. He chuckled at your fruitless attempt, raising his right hand to brush over your cheek in an almost loving gesture - pulling you from your concentration. 

“Don’t fuss so much,” he purred down at you, raking his index finger from your high cheek bone to the corner of your lips, “Let ‘em know.” As you were about to reciprocate your desire for him back into his face, Law’s frustrated growl cut over the speakers once more to alert you of further instruction.

“Can the tinkerer of the Heart-Pirates and the captain of the Kid-Pirates return above deck for the evening meal now.”

Both you and Kid laughed while hastily adjusting your uniform back over your shoulders, his clothes and his mechanical arm to fix once more on his own bodies. As you approached the door, you were momentarily held in perplexed shock at the extension of Kid’s right hand reaching out to collect your left within. He glanced at you from the corner of his eye, desperately seeking out one more moment of your touch against his flesh. 

You smiled down at the floor, bashfully smoothing the fingers of your left hand within Kid’s right and allowing him to lead you above deck. You both hoped this meal would be as brief as it could for you to find yourselves clutching at each other’s flesh once more. 

As you approached the upper deck, you witnessed the amount of effort thrust into the air at the rambunctious dining experience provided for you. Rows of collaborative seats and dining settings were ornately decorated, shined silverware Law hid away for special occasions were set perfectly in front of each of the crewmen awaiting your presence. You sheepishly met your eyes with your captain’s, the swell of disappointed disdain present within the yellowed irises.

Apprehensively, Kid released your hand from his, he marched over to find his place amongst his own crew and the two other captains, leaving you to to fall in line with your own crewmen. Although words of spoken intentions requesting you by his side for dinner, as soon as your eyes met with the amber hue of Trafalgar Law’s abrasive agitation, you decided immediately against it. 

Sitting between Shachi and Ikkaku, opposite from Bepo and Penguin, you felt their eyes burning into your marked flesh. You chose not to speak, keeping your eyes fixed on your captain as he elevated his tankard - relaying a long winded toast to the three crews meeting. You elected to not engage with the gestures attempting to wave you away from your concentration from Ikkaku, Shachi and Penguin. You were the picture of innocence and obedience, refusing to tear your eyes away from your captain as he continued on with his speech.

Law’s eyes met with yours, briefly trailing down your face, neck and torso to follow the bites and lip-paint from the foreign captain plastered vibrantly against your skin. You smiled up at him, the picture of angelic and sinless appearance as he stuttered over his final words of the speech.

“May our three crews find balance and harmony over these upcoming weeks,” he concluded, elevating his tankard and prompting the crews to do the same, “Now let’s eat.” 

“Yes to food!” Luffy cried in glee, enthusiastically piling an assortment of meat onto his tray at the final utterance of Law’s speech. You refused to meet your crewman’s eyes, turning to Bepo and asking him to pass you the pressed, buttery, herbed potatoes; as if it was the most natural and normal thing in the world. 

After you all began gathering elements of your meal on the plate in front of you, you felt multiple eyes fixed on your body from all sides: your crewmates with their questions pushing against the walls of their lips threatening to break through like water through a dam wall. Zoro, with a wide smirk showcased on his lips and eyes narrowed in on the marks, also held unspoken commentary he desired to tease you with. Your Captain’s brimming intensity fuelling the ignition of rage beneath his features prompted your silence to remain exactly that. Silence. 

Whereas Eustass Kid, sitting beside his loyal first-mate and the other two captains, sought out your eyes to ask unspoken questions he craved the answers for. The one at the forefront of his mind was: “Do you wish to continue?”

In lieu of providing an exchange of words or gestures to those around you, you coyly flicked at your plate with the silvery fork; humming along to the melody formerly blaring from your workshop speakers. Seeking out a slice of the pressed potato in your fork, you slid it onto your fork before wrapping your lips over the crisped edges. 

You continued to hum while eating your meal, shoulders dancing in a subtle shake in approval while you chewed your food. Aside from your upbeat humming, you consumed your meal in silence while your closest friends attempted to seek out your attention with their eyes - pleading to be privy of the happenings occurring behind closed doors. 

“You’re really not going to say anything? Not even a denial of ‘nothing happened’, or a small ‘It was good’ if something did?” Ikkaku whined at you, leaning forward on the heel of her palm and pouting her lips into her skin, “After all that, nothing?” You sighed, placing down your utensils on the table and seeking out your napkin to clean your face.

“Nothing happened,” you shrugged with your lips pursing. You took a moment's pause, allowing a delightful shudder of the memory of what occurred a few moments prior. You picked up your fork and placed your utensil within your lips before removing it with a quick ‘pop’, uttering, “ And it was good,” you sarcastically reflected back to Ikkaku. She scoffed, toying with her own plate of food with her lips curling up at the corner.

“You climb him like a tree?” Shachi grunted out, mid-bite of a roasted carrot. You giggled out a string of quiet laughter while shaking your head.

“Didn’t get the chance to,” you shrugged after finishing with your laughter, “Can you pass the meat?” Penguin elevated the tray of meat, your fingers brushing against one another as he passed the tray to you. 

“Gagged, choked, and flogged?” Penguin attempted to disguise his question with a gruff cough, hiding his blush from view with the shadow of his cap. Your lips cracked into a large grin, again shaking your head at the question. 

“Thank you, Penguin,” you uttered, taking the tray and placing a few pieces of meat on your plate, “And I wish.” You passed the tray on to Bepo, who hungrily piled several pieces onto his plate before passing the empty plate onto the bench behind him. 

“Then what did you do?” Ikkaku asked, her elevated voice woven with exasperation. Zoro’s attention never left your body, only pausing to raise his sake bottle to his lips as he read your lips of every confession. 

“We talked shop,” you shrugged, your fingers grasping the tongs within the plate of fried broccolini, fishing out several pieces of the wilted vegetable and placed it on your plate, “He’s an incredibly skilled craftsman, and it was a delight to hear him speak about his passions while sharing mine.”

“Bet that’s not all he shared of yours,” Ikkaku muttered under her breath, raising her fork to her lips with a knowing smirk, “Your neck looks like an animals been at it.” 

“Yeah,” you sighed with a whimsical longing falling from your lips, swooning at the amount of marks Eustass Kid had littered your body with his passionately violent embrace. Your crewmen burst into an uproar of contagious laughter, prompting Zoro and Nami to follow suit once your hushed conversation was relayed to one another. 

After you all conclude with your meals, the conversations float to the next time you all get to sing, dance and drink with one another, before you witness Eustass Kid rising to his feet. The chef of the Straw-Hat crew had only just begun serving dessert for the three Nakama crews, but this did little to halt the departure of the captain of the Punk-Rock from his place at the table. 

Without meeting your eyes with his, you rose to your feet and placed your silverware atop your emptied dining plate and dusted off your thighs while straightening your uniform. You turned to where Trafalgar Law was sitting on the table, giving him a low bow: wordlessly questioning whether it would be permitted to be excused. Elevating your eyes while rising from your stoop, Law’s blushing cheeks and gritted teeth shook alongside his head with a curt, and swift, nod in affirmation. You took a moment to stifle the rising squeal of joy in your chest, before turning to address your ‘brothers in arms.’

“Goodnight, crew,” you turned to wink at Ikkaku before adding, “Talk to you in the morning, if I manage to find a leg to stand on.” 

As you walked over to the archway of the Polar Tang, you halted and waited for the heavy bootsteps falling behind your own. At the jangle of metal belt-chains, the weighted thump of shoes and the subtle purred growl of the captain of the Victoria Punk stalking behind you, your shoulders shuddered in anticipation. You felt the subtle pull from his metallic left arm caging your waist within its iron grip, pulling you to face him against his torso, while simultaneously leading you back to your workshop below decks. 

Both of you were buzzing with giddy lust simmering within your chests, swelling with the rise of passionate desperation for one another. You giggled, reaching down to touch the cool metal claiming your waist within its circular grasp.

“Are you that keen on me that you couldn’t finish your dessert, Sir?” you quirked your head to the side, noticing Eustass Kid’s predatory grin penetrating your flesh beneath its searing intensity. 

“Why would I eat something artificially sweet when I can eat you?” he purred, his head waving to the side as he leant down into your ear, licking the outer shell, before uttering, “Gotta see how loud I can make you scream while I trap your pretty cunt against my face.” He lovingly reached his right hand down to claim your left, elevating it to his lips and gently brushing his painted lips over your knuckles, “You think your neck is the only place I’d be keen on licking, biting and kissing?”

Where Kid expected to be greeted with a squeak at his vulgarity, he was met with a similar amount of crass speech. Your eyes innocently triangulated between his own, fluttering down to meet with his lips before focussing back on his auburn irises.  

“You think I’d happily sit still on your face?” you sung your intentions to him with a musical tone, “Not while I’ve got a whole throbbing and hard cock in need of my attention below your pants,” you fluttered your eyes down to his belt before slowly raking your eyes up his chest to find residency on his face. 

Gauging his reaction, you continued uttering your vulgarity sweetly up at him, brushing your fingers over his jawline and trailing them down his exposed chest. Your eyes followed your fingers, gleefully swooning at the elevation of puckered flesh shuddering to life beneath your gentle touch. 

“The real question is: should I take your belt off with my fingers, or would you prefer I use my teeth, Sir?” you halted your touch, your eyes snapping back up to gaze longingly into Eustass Kid’s auburn eyes.

“T-The fuck did you just say?” Kid breathily gasped into your ear, truly being perplexed with his ill-preparation for reciprocal vulgarity. 

“You heard, Sir,” you teased him in return, lips pulled into a sultry smirk while reaching your index finger up to trace his angular jawline, “Fingers or teeth?” After taking a moment to straighten himself, Kid leant down to your face, gazing at you through half-hooded eyes and growling his response.

“Teeth.”

[coolshadowtwins]

SVSSS System Reveal Fic round up!

If you know one that hasn’t been recc’ed, then please put it in the comments/tags! I’ll add it to the post!

A Transmigrator and a Time Traveler Walk into the Bamboo House by VeryCharismaticDragon

Over a year after Shen Qingqiu's death, Luo Binghe consults his servant's servant, concurrently his disgraced martial uncle, for a way to bring the love of his life back. Shang Qinghua sends him in the direction of a certain time-traveling artifact, which supposedly brings one to the day they first met their soulmate.

Odd, though, that the artifact ends up missing the destination by just a few years…

A story in which post-Abyss Luo Binghe relives his disciple days, while juggling his secrets, traumas, and some unexpected revelations about the man he loves on top of that.

What is Seen by CaveteDracones

…is not [always] the real truth.

Truth-compelling artifacts in the hands of an enemy to one side, SYSTEM-mandated silence on the other, and Shen Qingqiu caught between the two. Is it too late to go back to the Water Prison? (NOTE: This one was recommended three times, and I have personally reread it multiple times. It’s one of my favorites and I really do want to read more fics in a similar vein lol)

open my lungs to let you in by ghostybreads

Shen Qingqiu had a secret. So, naturally, it was only a matter of time before he was hit by a truth serum wife plot.

//

“How are you?”

“Horny. Kind of want Binghe to rail me, I guess. But it’s manageable.”

Liu Qingge’s hand on his forehead froze, and he was close enough that Shen Qingqiu could hear his breathing stop. He stared back expressionlessly, the mortification distantly crawling up the back of his neck. Honest One-Horned–

The frustrated scream that he usually vented in his head, came out straight from mouth.

“aaAAAAAHHHH GODDAMNIT AIRPLANE–”

Futility in Practice by TGP

When Luo Binghe is fourteen years old, his shizun suffers a terrible qi deviation and fever that completely changes who he is.

and judgment is just like a cup that we share by Kieron_ODuibhir

The blob finished rotating into place in a way that wasn’t quite compatible with geometry as Shen Qingqiu understood it, and cleared a throat it didn’t seem to have.

“Greetings,” it said, somehow clearly addressing him in particular more than the room as a whole despite its total lack of features other than blueness and translucency. “I’m here on behalf of the Hyper-Celestial Peace and Order Enforcement Bureau. Crime scene secure, proceeding to interviews. Beginning with Subject One: You are Shen Qingqiu, formerly Shen Yuan, also known as Peerless Cucumber?”

First, do no harm by Terias

Shen Qingqiu has been acting especially erratic since awakening from his three day coma after a severe qi deviation.

Mu Qingfang investigates and discovers a great many things about his new shixiong. (NOTE: This one has Shen Yuan and Shen Jiu as the same soul, technically, but it still works I think!)

Show The Screenshots by A_Non_ymousWriter

When a rogue foreign System sends out a subtle virus, some outsiders are shown chat messages between a certain two transmigrators and their Systems.

AirplaneBro: nah dude shen jiu would never lay a hand on his female disciples like that, hes gay

Liu Qingge tripped on thin air while Mu Qingfang choked on his tea as Shang Qinghua (their god? creator??) casually shattered their view of their original Shen Qingiu. The fake Shen Qingqiu at least, was sharing their shock.

CucumberBro: EXCUSE ME WHAT??

CucumberBro: The fuck he is?!?! He literally GOES TO BROTHELS! LIU QINGGE FOUND HIM IN BED WITH A WOMAN THAT ONE TIME?

AirplaneBro: aight bro buckle the fuck up cuz imma take u on a joyride all about shen jiu >:)

—————-

Binghes#1Fan: I don't want to send Binghe into the Abyss...

System 2: User must comply, if User cannot do the task User will be punished and the account will be terminated.

Mobeis #1Fan: sorry bro unless ur okay w being ded af u gotta push binghe into the abyss

Ning Yingying's fists clenched. Okay, so trying to get Yuan-ge and A-Luo together would be harder than she thought.

[alizha]

ｈｏｌｉｄａｙ ｅｎｎｕｉ

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

⁀➷ 𝗋𝖾𝗂𝗇𝖾𝗋 𝖻𝗋𝖺𝗎𝗇 𝗑 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 | 𝗆𝗈𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗇 𝖺𝗎

Word Count: 4.8k

Tags: SFW, no use of gendered pronouns, references to and depictions of anxiety and depression, kissing

Summary: You and Reiner have a meet cute at therapy, and you're both feeling afloat during the holidays.

❖ masterlist ❖ read on ao3

The waiting room outside Dr. Keller’s office still bears the cheerful remnants of Christmas, even though the holiday had already come and gone. You’re sitting in your usual chair near the corner, puffy coat hugged tightly around you. Truth be told, the festive decor meant to liven up the room only adds to your listlessness.

There’s nothing wrong with the place as it usually is. The corners and empty spaces of the waiting room burst with vibrant greenery, strategically placed, you suspect, by Dr. Keller herself to maximize patient contentment. You’ve been with her for two years now, so you have a sense for that sort of thing.

A tall fiddle-leaf fig tree stands proudly in the corner closest to you, its glossy leaves catching the soft light filtering in from frosted windows. Now, it’s adorned with twinkling multicolored lights that throw alternating cool and warm shadows on the sage-painted walls. They blink unwaveringly and silently, regularly changing patterns every minute or so, and you can’t help but feel sorry that they’re being wasted on someone who can’t appreciate them.

You’ve been in a bit of a rut since November, something of which Dr. Keller was well aware, of course. She assured you she’d be available through the end of the year, and you’d taken her up on that, keeping up with your weekly visits. At the beginning of the month, she asked you how your Thanksgiving went.

“It was fine,” you’d said. “Quiet. Just me and Elvira.”

“Ah,” she said, raising an eyebrow. “Your cat. Still not expanding your social circle, I see.”

You’d resented that. After all, Dr. Keller had told you to to start with things that feel comfortable. And Elvira is very comfortable. Cats didn’t judge, didn’t require any special considerations. They aren’t a challenge—not like people are. People are hard.

“We’re aiming for connections that talk back and don’t require kibble,” Dr. Keller had said flatly.

A big ask, but technically, you managed that the week before Christmas. You’d seen your next door neighbor, Mrs. Leary, when she was taking out her trash. She’d said Merry Christmas, and you said it back. Given the criteria set out for you, you’d say that counts.

You glance at the two doors at the far end of the waiting area leading to the therapists’ individual offices. Dr. Keller shared a space with another doctor, Dr. Madsen, whose names glinted on the brass plates adorning each door. You can practically already hear what Dr. Keller is going to say when you tell her about Mrs. Leary.

“It’s a start, but why not challenge yourself? Go beyond polite exchanges. Did you ask her how her holiday was?”

Sighing, you flit your gaze from the miniature pine tree twinkling at the edge of the low, rectangular coffee table topped with neatly arranged magazines, all holiday editions. Fixating on the strands of tinsel catching the light, each glimmer feels oddly louder than it should in the empty waiting room as you attempt to formulate an answer.

Your desperate clawing through the recesses of your mind for something more substantial than, “It just felt like too much,” is interrupted by the soft chime of the door. You glance up just in time to see him—tall, broad-shouldered, and blond. The man you’ve seen here at the office in passing many times before. One of Dr. Madsen’s patients, you’ve gathered in the time since you started noticing him.

Today, he’s dressed more casually than you’re used to, in a red flannel sherpa over a cream cable-knit sweater. In his arms, he’s juggling a navy backpack and several—maybe four or five—mini rose-gold foil gift bags. He looks even warmer and more approachable than in his usual business professional fare. It makes your stomach twist uncomfortably, a combination of envy and a familiar pang of fear, as he approaches the front desk with apparent ease.

“Morning, Lily,” he says pleasantly.

The secretary flashes him a dazzling smile. “Reiner! So good to see you. Did you have a nice holiday?”

You fidget with the hem of your coat. She didn’t make it sound so hard to ask. Maybe, you could do it, too. Maybe.

“It was fine,” the man—Reiner, you think to yourself—says, absently pushing the small potted succulent on Lily’s desk a smidge further away from the edge. “Quiet, just the way I like it. You?”

“Not quiet at all,” Lily says with a bell-like laugh. “Family chaos. You know how it is.”

“Lucky you,” he says with a faint smile. He adjusts the bags in his arms, pulling one carefully out of the pile by dainty ribbon handles and setting it on the secretary’s desk. “Just had to run into the office for a bit, and my coworker was handing these out. Take one off my hands?”

“Gladly!” Lily exclaims, her face lighting up all over again.

You can’t help but stare at the cheerful, gold-speckled tissue paper peering over the top of tiny curling ribbons. Until you realize Reiner has been glancing around the room, and his gaze has landed on you. Immediately, you look down at your lap, twisting your fingers together awkwardly.

“Still got decorations up, huh?” you hear Reiner say. “Festive.”

“Yeah, I keep meaning to take them down, but they’re so cheerful. Why the rush?”

There’s a shuffling of feet and paper, and you catch a glimpse of red out of the corner of your eye a few moments later. You tilt your head slowly and meet the man’s gaze again. He’s sidled past the coffee table and standing a couple steps away from you—a cautious, non-threatening distance.

“Hey,” he says with a disarming smile. “You… uh, want one of these?”

Your hands instinctively clasp over your knees, breath hitching. Plenty of other patients have tried striking up conversations with you in Dr. Keller’s waiting room before, but no one’s ever tried offering you anything. And it’s not really that you mind it’s just—

You’re no good with people. People are hard.

“Oh, no. That’s okay. I don’t—,”

“They’re just leftover office gifts,” he says carefully, taking a small step closer and holding one out toward her, thumb and forefinger gingerly pinching the sheer pink handle. The gift bag looks dainty and small and oh so endearing in his hand. “One of my coworkers went a little overboard. They mean well, though. Chocolate, I think. Or maybe soap? I honestly didn’t look too closely.”

You shake your head quickly, shrinking slightly. “No, really, I couldn’t—,”

“Please,” he says, his voice softening. “You’d be doing me a favor. Everyone at the office shoved these on me because they said I looked ‘too gloomy’ this season. Guess they thought this would help, but I wouldn’t know what to do with all this.”

His eyes, warm honey hazel, look just genuine and pleading enough to make you hesitate.

“You seemed… gloomy?”

He laughs lightly, a soft rumble of self-awareness. “I guess so. Anyway, I don’t need all these. Someone would enjoy them. I’m Reiner, by the way. And you’re…?”

You murmur your name in reply, barely audible, but he repeats it warmly all the same.

“Well, maybe you could take just one bag? You don’t even have to keep it—you could re-gift it if you want,” Reiner says. “But if I go through the trouble of lugging them all the way home on the bus, they’ll just sit on my kitchen counter until I forget about them.”

His kindness (and perhaps, his admittedly attractive face) placates your nerves just enough for you to extend a tentative hand. He looks pleased, placing the handle of the back in your grip. Warm fingertips gaze across your palm, his touch light and fleeting before quickly disappearing entirely. A shiver runs down your spine.

“Thank you,” you mumble, your cheeks warming.

“No, thank you,” he says with a grin. “Saved me from carrying these around the rest of the day.”

He looks around for a moment before moving to settle into the plush taupe chair beside the fiddle-leaf fig. You try not to look at him again, staring instead at the rose gold bag in your lap, plus still racing as you wait. When Dr. Keller finally emerges from her door and calls your name, you duck into her office and burn under the inquisitive look she gives you and your glittery new acquisition.

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

You’re relieved when you don’t immediately regret leaving your apartment on New Year’s Eve to walk down to the main strip. The street is in full holiday swing, bursting with life and swirling with laughter and music.

Walking at a leisurely pace, you take in the string lights crisscrossing above you, glowing in warm yellows and icy whites. The storefronts are still dressed in their seasonal finery, frosty-edged windows sparkling with fake snow and wreaths and glimmering ornaments. And up and down the walkways, food vendors lined the curb, their carts sending up fragrant plumes of spice and cocoa.

The crisp winter air bites at your cheeks, and you pull the sides of your knitted hat a bit further down over your ears as you reach the plaza at the end of the strip. A towering Christmas tree stands at its center, huge ornaments glinting under the twinkling of a thousand multicolored lights. Beneath the tree, a stage is set up for a local band playing upbeat, jazzy renditions of holiday classics.

You weave through the throng of people gathered around, your breath puffing in soft white clouds. Some of them are dancing, others simply swaying to the music or beaming as they hold hands or clutch steaming cups in their gloved grasps. Everyone seems to be in the companionship of others, though. Not like you.

You hadn’t meant to come out tonight—not really. The thought of spending New Year’s Eve surrounded by so many people had seemed suffocating in the lead up. Yet, staying home had felt equally unbearable. You’d spent hours pacing your tiny apartment, torn between the guilt of declining your family’s invitations and the overwhelming anxiety of going.

So, you’d landed here, out among strangers. Their chatter blurs into a comforting hum in your ears. For once, it doesn’t feel like you have a hundred pairs of eyes on you, watching, judging. Everyone is too busy counting down the hours until midnight to notice you. It’s unbelievably freeing.

You pause by the edge of the plaza and stuff your hands deep into your pockets. As the band starts up Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, your gaze wanders back toward the large center tree, and you squint at a tall figure with short blond hair. That’s when you realize you recognize him from the therapist’s office—Reiner.

He’s leaning against the metal railing around the tree, hands shoved into the pockets of his long camel overcoat. His stance seems relaxed, but his expression is distant, eyes staring blankly into the pavement a few feet away as groups and couples walk past.

Your heart thuds in your chest. Maybe he’s waiting for someone. He doesn’t seem like the type to spend New Year’s alone, so handsome and charming. But he looks almost miserable standing there alone, you wish you could extend some sort of comfort while he waits, at least. Keep him company until his friend (girlfriend?) gets back.

The thought of approaching him paralyzes you with fear. You consider slipping away, pretending you haven’t seen him. Then, Dr. Keller’s voice echoes in your mind.

“We’ve been working on this bit by bit,” she’d said at your last appointment. “Maybe instead of thinking about it as a huge change, we break this down into smaller, achievable goals. Maybe you set a goal to initiate one meaningful conversation—with someone at work or even a cashier at a grocery store. The important thing is that you try.”

You swallow dryly, jaw clenching. You’d promised you would try. Progress wasn’t about perfection, even if you really want it to be with Reiner. But you were being presented with the perfect chance here.

You should take it.

Your legs feel like lead, but somehow, you forced them to move. Each step toward him is like a tiny battle. By the time you reach the railing, your palms are damp despite the cold. You clear your throat, voice coming out small.

“Hi, Reiner.”

He turns, life returning to his eyes when he stutters your name. “Hey,” he says, sounding pleasantly surprised.

“I, uhm…” you hesitate, the words catching in your throat, “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Didn’t expect to see you either,” he says with a low chuckle. He glances around at the crowd before looking back at you. “Are you… alone?”

“Oh. Yeah.” The admittance tears through your gut like shrapnel.

“Me, too.”

“Oh.”

It comes out sounding surprised, which you don’t mean for it to. You wince inwardly as Reiner awkwardly lifts a hand and rubs the back of his neck, the short of his blond rustling.

“Listen,” he says, shifting his weight and hesitantly meeting your gaze. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. Back at Dr. Madsen’s office. Well, I guess you go there for Dr. Keller. I didn’t mean to… uh, well, I guess I had seen you around and thought maybe it would be fine.”

You blink up at him, startled. “No, no, you’re not—,” you hurry to say, but then, you stop, unsure of how to continue.

You can feel the old, familiar instinct to retreat freeing up on you, the urge to politely escape the conversation before it gets too hard. You forcefully swallow down that urge and take a deep breath.

Baby steps.

“You didn’t make me uncomfortable,” you say. “I meant it’s not easy for me to talk to people, but you’re not, uhm… scary. Not like a stranger on the street or something.”

Reiner tilts his head, his plush lips quirking into a soft smile. “Glad to hear it,” he says. “I’m not sure I could handle being called scary tonight.”

His tone is light, joking, but there’s a quiet hint of genuine relief there. You can’t help but let out a soft, nervous laugh. He really was afraid he had come off badly in front of you, and the thought that even someone like him could feel that way relaxes you in a way.

“It was a bath bomb, by the way. The office gift,” you clarify when he looks at you inquisitively. “Not chocolate or soap.”

“Right,” he says, amused. “Good thing you checked instead of taking my word for it.”

The two of you stand there for a moment, the silence between you surprisingly comfortable. You fidget with the zipper of your coat, searching for something to say. This is the part you normally dread—the moment when the conversation could slip away entirely because you can’t bring yourself to go beyond the pleasantries.

Inhaling deeply, you push out the words, letting them tumble out. “So, uhm… how’s your New Year’s Eve going?”

As soon as you ask, you regret it. Your stomach sinks when Reiner’s expression shifts. Just a slight flicker as his faint smile fades into something wistful before he plasters the cheerful mask back on.

“Well, it’s probably not going all that well if I’m wandering around alone,” he says, his dry tone all but revealing his self-deprecation. “Just came out for a walk, really, and ended up here. But then again, you did the same thing, right?”

You duck your head, cheeks heating. “Yeah,” you admit. “I was supposed to go to a big family thing. I just… I didn’t have it in me. Guess neither of us is really winning at the whole social thing tonight.”

Reiner makes a low, teasingly dismissive sound and shakes his head. “I’m not much of a party guy either. But hey, I wouldn’t count you out just yet.”

You cock your head at him questioningly, and his smile widens.

“Well, we’re friends, aren’t we?”

You’re shocked. Your jaw nearly drops. Friends? You and Reiner? “Does—does this make us friends?”

Sitting in the same therapists’ waiting room every week, seeing each other in passing once in a while there. You thought being friends required a bit more than that, but Reiner doesn’t seem to think so. Has it always been this easy, and you just stressed yourself out for no reason?

“Sure. Then, we can say we hung out with a friend for New Year’s Eve. I’d say that’s a win,” he says. “I would like to be friends. If that’s alright.”

You look up at him, a hopeful glimmer in your eye. The word—friends—bounces around in your head, thrilling and terrifying at the same time. But Dr. Keller’s been urging you to take steps toward real connection for months. This could be one of those steps.

“It’s better than alright,” you say, the corners of your mouth stretching into a smile. “Dr. Keller’s been insisting my cat doesn’t count as a friend for ages, so it’s amazing, actually.”

Reiner perks up, his brow lifting. “You have a cat?”

“Yeah,” you say, nodding. “Her name’s Elvira.”

“I like cats,” he says. He leans in just slightly, but you get a full whiff of his scent, clean soap and the masculine fragrance of some variety of men’s shampoo.

“Well,” you say, warmth spreading in your chest as you study him curiously, “we’re friends, so you should meet her.”

He looks at you with a mix of surprise and excitement when he says, “Now?”

Your lips part, pulse thrumming fast. You didn’t plan on now, but you also don’t see why not. Reiner was, in your own words, not scary. Maybe this was a good idea and not one of those ideas that landed women on primetime news for entirely the wrong reasons.

“Now,” you affirm with a nod.

Reiner practically beams. “Lead the way.”

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

About twenty minutes later, you’ve made your way back up the strip and into your neighborhood with Reiner in tow.

“Dr. Keller said what I’ve been feeling lately is actually pretty common,” you’re explaining as you fumble with your keys.

The faint tremor of nerves is making the metal jangle softly in the otherwise quiet hallway. You’re hoping Mrs. Leary is asleep and doesn’t hear you and Reiner briefly loitering in the hall.

“She called it holiday ennui. You know, that weird, in-between time after Christmas but before New Year’s where everything feels off.”

“I get that,” Reiner says as you get the door unlocked and swing it open. “It’s like you’re supposed to be celebrating, but it feels more like you’re waiting for something to end. Or start. I don’t know.”

“Exactly,” you say, stepping inside and flicking on the light to reveal your cluttered living room. “Sorry, it’s a little messy in here.”

The idea of bringing someone into your space—a near stranger, no less—is something you’d never imagined yourself doing. Not even a week ago. But here you are, walking into your apartment with Reiner. Even the sleek black cat perched on the armrest of your couch looks confused.

“Don’t worry,” Reiner says with a reassuring smile. “My apartment looks like a tornado hit it most of the time.”

You set down your back and start toeing off your boots. “That’s Elvira, by the way.”

Reiner carefully slips off his own boots and overcoat, considerately placing them next to yours on the shoe mat and hanger. Moving slowly, as if not to startle the cat, he pads across the living room and kneels to get a better look. “She’s gorgeous.”

Elvira doesn’t move, her green eyes fixed on him with an imperious stare. You bite your lip and smile.

“She can be a little standoffish, but I’m sure she’ll warm up to you.”

Reiner nods. “Sounds like most cats I’ve met. They make you earn it.”

You settle into the far end of the couch and busy yourself with folding the blanket haphazardly thrown over it, your nervous energy bubbling up. “You’re, uh, welcome to sit. I’m sure Elvira won’t mind.”

He smiles gratefully and lifts himself up just enough before sinking into the other side of the couch. Elvira watches warily as Reiner sinks into the seat cushion, shifting her small paws as if deciding whether to hop down off the couch.

“It’s rough,” Reiner sighs thoughtfully, and you gather he’s picking up where your previous conversation left off. “That limbo during the holiday season. It’s been hitting me hard this year. Well, more than usual. I’m glad Dr. Madsen’s been available through the holidays.”

You fold your limbs cross-legged on the couch. “More than usual?”

“Yeah,” he says, shrugging. “I was diagnosed with depression last year. Started seeing Dr. Madsen about it around the same time. He’s been helpful. I mean, it’s not like a magic fix or anything, but it’s something.”

“Oh,” you say dumbly.

Of course, you’d known he was showing up at the same therapists’ office as you for a while, so there must have been a reason. When you think about the times you felt envious of the ease with which he seemed to carry himself, your first instinct is to tell him you could hardly tell he was struggling with anything, but that isn’t always what people want to hear.

Obvious or not, Reiner was getting help. That’s what was important.

“You’re… really good at masking it,” you settle on saying.

“Yeah, well. Years of practice, I guess,” he says. “It’s not like I’m trying to hide it on purpose. Just… everyone deals with it differently, right?”

You nod slowly. “Right.”

Elvira takes that moment to leap down from her perch right onto the center couch cushion between you, landing with a soft thump. You watch with interest as she leans in to sniff at Reiner’s outstretched hand.

“Looks like she approves,” you murmur, a smile touching your lips.

Reiner chuckles, turning his palm face-up to scratch under Elvira’s chin. “Just gotta give ‘em their space, you know? Can’t force anything on them, let them come to their own conclusions.”

The cat settles herself regally on the cushion, neatly curling her tail around her paws, and glances up at you. Perhaps cats didn’t judge the same way people did, but they were still good judges of character. And if Elvira had taken to Reiner, you were inclined to believe inviting him over hadn’t been a mistake after all.

You glance at the time on your phone and realize midnight isn’t far off. “Should we maybe turn on the TV for the countdown or something?”

“Yeah, sounds like a plan,” Reiner says without pausing from petting Elvira. “Can’t miss the ball drop, right?”

Leaning forward, you pluck the remote from the coffee table and click on the TV, flipping through a few channels before landing on a lively New Year’s Eve broadcast.

A glittering stage fills the screen, performers decked out in sequins that throw the spotlights shining down on them in a brilliant cacophony. After turning the volume up a bit, you set down the remote and absently reach over to brush Elvira’s fur. Your fingers caress warm, unfamiliar skin instead, and you realize with a jolt that you’ve touched Reiner’s hand.

With a sharp inhale, you jerk your hand away and snap your gaze to him. Both of you stammer out your apologies at the same time.

“Sorry! I didn’t mean—,”

“No, no, I’m sorry. She’s your cat—,”

You snap your mouth shut and look down at your socks, feeling the heat rushing to your cheeks. His hand is so big and warm, your stomach flutters recalling the fleeting touch. Reiner clears his throat quietly, his eyes glued to the screen.

“Looks like we caught the last performance,” he says.

“Do you usually watch this kind of thing?” you ask, sneaking a glance at him.

“Not really,” he admits. “Usually, I don’t even bother staying up for midnight. But I’m glad I’m doing something different this year.”

He gives you a tentative smile that makes your heart skip a beat, testing the waters. Instead of resuming his petting of Elvira, he relaxes into the couch and stretches out his arm across the backrest, hand resting gently on the cushion.

You return the smile and let your hand drift toward Elvira to scratch behind her ears. The cat purrs softly, tilting her head.

“Me, too,” you say quietly.

As the countdown looms closer, the broadcast on the TV switches to shots of the massive crowd gathered in Times Square. You lean in a little closer, your stomach performing flips as you pretend to adjust your position to better reach Elvira. But really, it’s more about closing the gap between you and Reiner.

You sidle in bit by bit until you’re close enough for his forearm on the backrest to brush against the nape of your neck, and an unexpected shiver runs down your spine. This is a thrill that makes your heart race in a way wholly different from trying to ask for help at a store. This is the kind you’re somehow enjoying, the kind you want to chase.

Reiner seems to notice, his gaze flickering briefly to you before settling back on the screen. Unimpressed by the shrinking space on the couch, Elvira lifts herself up in a long stretch before leaping to the ground and padding away, leaving Reiner’s warmth, solid and steady beside you. He scoots an inch closer to you, tucking you into the crook of his arm, and your nerves ebb away.

You turn to look at him just as the crowd on TV begins changing, “Ten! Nine! Eight!” only to find he’s already looking back at you. The movement of his tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip draws your eyes down, and you guiltily drag them back up, throat suddenly dry. The scant air between you feels charged with something you can’t quite name.

As the countdown continues, Reiner leans in even closer. You can see the patterns in the gold of his irises as he searches your face for some sign that he’s pushed you past your comfort zone. Unconsciously, you hold your breath, your heartbeat wild against your ribcage.

“Three! Two! One! Happy New Year!”

Out of the corner of your eye, the screen erupts into a colorfully dazzling display of fireworks and lights, and a mix of cheers and music fill your small living room. But you barely notice as you close the last bit of distance between you and Reiner and press your lips firmly against his.

He kisses you slow and hazy, with lips that taste like cinnamon cider. The pleased sigh he lets out against your mouth is only a faint whisper, as delicate as the tickle of his stubble against your chin. He brings his hand up to your face, warm fingers now cool against your burning skin as he skims his knuckles down your chin.

Auld Lang Syne plays out from the TV, muffled in your ear beneath the rushing of your pulse as your every nerve alights. Reiner doesn’t rush the kiss, languidly plucking at your lips with his, as if he might scare you away otherwise. His thumb strokes along your jaw, the gesture so gentle that fondness stabs you through the chest.

You reach up to tangle your fingers into the soft of his hair—dragging him closer, slanting your head to deepen the kiss. Encouraging him to be bolder. Reiner groans.

He slides the hand on your jaw around the back of your neck, and heat ricochets through your veins. You add fuel to the fire, wrapping your arms around him, startled by your own brashness. His tongue rolls against the seam of your lips, hot and wet, and your breath hitches, opening yourself to allow him to tenderly explore your taste.

Just as you’re starting to notice the lightheadedness creeping up on you, a dizziness resulting from equal parts excitement and lack of air, Reiner parts from your lips and ducks his head to trail warm, open-mouthed kisses up the column of your neck. When he reaches your jaw, his tongue flickers out to lave at your ear.

A tiny whimper falls from your lips, and you nestle yourself into the juncture of his neck, panting into his flushed skin. The scent of his shampoo invades your senses again, leaves you fuzzy and yearning. Reiner’s fingers skate down the length of your spine to wrap his hand around your waist.

Somewhere in the far flung corner of your mind, you vaguely register that persistent, gnawing uncertainty that screams at you to flee. But the more present part of you drowns that instinct. It compels you to melt into the comfort of Reiner’s arms, hoping that he’ll let you stay pressed against him for a little while longer, even as your tongue twists into knots. You’ve been very good at asking for what you need.

“Been wanting to do that for ages,” he sighs, sounding breathless.

“Happy New Year, Reiner,” you say softly into his ear.

His lips curve into a smile against your hair. “Happy New Year.”

[starlightkun]

i do not allow reuploads, reposts, or translations of my works. i cross-post to ao3 and wattpad. i do not take requests. i write for fun and for free. feedback is of course welcome and greatly appreciated, please feel free to send me an ask, reblog, or comment!

if you're looking for a fic and can't find it, check my archive masterlist

PLEASE READ/INCLUSIVITY: unless explicitly stated otherwise in the genre tags, all of my reader-inserts use she/her pronouns, and are commonly referred to with gendered language such as girl, woman, etc. i do not make references to the reader's skin tone. i tend to avoid describing how the reader-insert takes up space (height or size) but if i do, the only members that i may explicitly depict as taller than the reader-insert are those that are 180cm or above (johnny, jaehyun, jungwoo, sungchan, jisung, and maybe sicheng if i'm feeling extra nice)

taglist | recent work | recommended work

word count 2025: 9.3k | blog word count: 1.216M

nets: blankjournal

KEY

f - fluff a - angst m - mature/heavy themes (i do not write smut, but not everything here will be appropriate for all ages, proceed with caution and read all warnings provided at the beginning of fics) h - humor/crack fic ✦ - author favorite

the starlightkuniverses

➺ series of multiple fics that take place in the same universe. pick your favorite member or read them all

➺ the strawberry sunday anthology (f, m, h, ✦)

modern magical creatures au, modern fantasy au, college au ── fairy!jungwoo, vampire!kun, werewolf!jeno, dragon!jisung, werewolf!sungchan, human!renjun, basilisk!mark, and dryad!jaemin * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

➺ venue:hell (f, a, m)

band au, punk/alt au ── drummer!sungchan, frontman/lead singer!shotaro, and retired floprockstar/venue manager!kun * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

➺ the ayakashi series (f, a, m)

based off the otome game 'ayakashi romance reborn,' modern yokai au ── tengu!jeno, oni!kun, human!jaehyun, and snow spirit!doyoung * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

➺ sleepless cinderella (f, a, m)

based off wayv's dream launch plan videos and the otome game 'sleepless cinderella' ── pilot!kun, surgeon!ten, actor!sicheng, director!dejun, robotics engineer!kunhang, and f1 racer!yangyang * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

special events

➺ 2023 hallmark movie marathon (f, a)

christmas-themed, new year's-themed ── three (and a half) fics with very cheesy hallmark movie-esque premises and tropes for the holiday season, all starring kun * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

➺ 2024 hallmark movie marathon (f, h)

christmas-themed, new year's-themed ── three fics with very cheesy hallmark movie-esque premises and tropes for the holiday season, all starring jisung * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

qian kun

➺ frankenstein complex (f, m, ✦) ── 67.9k, completed

sci-fi, near-ish future, black op mission captain kun, ?????? reader, humans and aliens and robots ── in which the crew of the vision finds you as the sole survivor of a classified research facility and there's more gaps in your memory than memories themselves. on top of that, you've got this weird feeling that the captain of the crew you've found yourself with isn't exactly what he seems... * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

➺ sweet girl (f, m, ✦) ── 53.9k

from the ayakashi series, oni!kun, onmyoji!reader ── in which you have to juggle love, friends, school, and a great evil that could destroy your city * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

➺ the bite (f, a, m) ── 25.5k

single dad!kun, single mom!reader, e2l, slice(s) of life ── in which kun's son bites yours at preschool, and you want nothing to do with this 'mr. qian' * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

➺ romance is dead (f, m, h, ✦) ── 19.4k & 10.3k sequel

part of the strawberry sunday universe, vampire!kun, human!reader, "uh-oh one of us drank a love potion" but with a twist, strangers(ish) to lovers ── in which there’s a mix-up with a love potion, and you're suddenly being courted by a several-hundred-year-old vampire. it's not all sonnets and bouquets, though, as you're keenly aware that kun's love could turn to thirst. and maybe you wouldn't mind if it did * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here | sequel

➺ flopstar (f, m) ── 18.3k

part of the venue:hell universe, band au, retired floprockstar/venue manager!kun, rookie/keyboardist!reader, age gap (older kun) ── in which your band finally gets a break in the form of a recurring gig at a local underground punk venue. when you realize the manager is the former keyboardist of your favorite band from a decade ago, though, it becomes even harder to keep your cool * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

➺ sleepless cinderella (f, a) ── 11.4k

from the sleepless cinderella series, pilot!kun, journalist!reader ── in which you become your own cinderella one night, with six prince charmings to choose from * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

➺ [NEW] chasing love across the receivers (f) ── 9.3k

sci-fi, near future, falling in love without seeing each other ── in which you go to your job as a space traffic controller every day looking forward to your shifts with one specific coworker who you might be falling head over heels for. and sure, you don't know quebec's real name, nor what he looks like, but you two talk for hours a day between guiding landings and take-offs, and you know him better than anyone else. you're perfectly happy, until his end of the comms falls silent one day and won't reconnect * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

➺ hopeless for the holidays (f) ── 8.7k

strangers to lovers, new years-themed, attorney kun, wedding planner reader, aged up kun & reader (mid/late thirties) ── in which your friend drags you to a singles mixer being thrown by the local bar association, and you're less than thrilled. in between betting her coworker that he won't find someone to kiss by midnight and helping her avoid her ex from law school, you hardly expect to meet someone like qian kun * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

➺ much mistletoeing about nothing (a, f) ── 7.6k & 1.9k sequel

exes to lovers, christmas-themed, getting snowed in trope, cuddling to share warmth trope ── in which your first mistake was saying yes to christmas dinner with your ex. your second mistake was being late to said christmas dinner. and your third... * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here | sequel

➺ hold my red heart (f) ── 3.4k

christmas-themed, fake dating trope, f2l ── in which you need some help getting rid of a very persistent coworker, and what better way than bringing your boyfriend to the office christmas party? only problem, you don't have a boyfriend. enter kun. * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

kim doyoung

➺ snowflake (f, a, m) ── 75.3k

from the ayakashi series, snow spirit!doyoung, onmyoji!reader ── in which you experience both great love and great loss, and learn how to battle hypothermia * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

ten

➺ sleepless cinderella (f, a, m) ── 13.8k

from the sleepless cinderella series, surgeon!ten, journalist!reader ── in which you become your own cinderella one night, with six prince charmings to choose from * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

jeong jaehyun

➺ s.c.s. (f, m) ── 66.2k

from the ayakashi series, human!jaehyun, onmyoji!reader, childhood friends to lovers ── in which jaehyun's just always been a family friend, the son of your dad's friend. so why are you so nervous around him now? why are you thinking about kissing him so much? and oh yeah, what's up with all those evil wraiths? * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

➺ valentine boy (f) ── 5.0k

rich kid!au, childhood friends to lovers ── in which you’re reunited with your childhood friend and refuse to let him go this time * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

dong sicheng

➺ sleepless cinderella (f) ── 13.5k

from the sleepless cinderella series, actor!sicheng, journalist!reader, fake dating, e2l ── in which you become your own cinderella one night, with six prince charmings to choose from * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

kim jungwoo

➺ finders keepers (f, a, m) ── 37.8k

sci-fi, alien!jungwoo, human!reader, soulmate au but make it aliens ── in which you've never been good at keeping your nose out of trouble, and a spaceship crashing a few meters away from you is right up your alley. the alien inside claiming that you're his soulmate might finally put you out of your depth, though * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read part one | two

➺ strawberry sunday (f, ✦) ── 28.4k

part of the strawberry sunday universe, fairy!jungwoo, human!reader, f2l, one (1) tease and one (1) idiot to lovers, slow burn ── in which you, all your friends, and your stupid massive crush on jungwoo go stay in one beach house together for spring break. you're determined to make it out with your secret in tact. but... has jungwoo always looked at you like that? touched you this much? like that? he can't be... flirting with you? * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

➺ second first kiss (f) ── 2.0k

new year's-themed, model!jungwoo, childhood f2l, drabble, gn!reader ── in which you spend every new year's with your best friend jungwoo. except the past couple years he's missed the target on his friendly new year's peck on the cheek, and you can't get him out of your head now * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

mark lee

➺ baby fangs (f) ── 26.7k

part of the strawberry sunday universe, basilisk!mark, sphinx!reader, strangers to lovers, age gap (older reader) ── in which a desperate mark knocks on your door one night when he gets locked out of his friends' apartment, and you get way more than you bargained for in return. you hardly expect that the cute infatuation he displays for you immediately would be anything more; nor that you'd ever find yourself falling for the basilisk and his baby fangs too * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

➺ invested (a, f) ── 23.1k

ft. donghyuck, love triangle, matching tattoo soulmate au ── in which you're convinced that you don't have a tattoo, and that you're in love with lee donghyuck * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

xiao dejun

➺ sleepless cinderella (f) ── 14.4k

from the sleepless cinderella series, director!dejun, journalist!reader, childhood friends to lovers ── in which you become your own cinderella one night, with six prince charmings to choose from * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

wong kunhang

➺ savior (f, h, ✦) ── 24.3k

royal au, prince!kunhang, princess!reader, "you saved me, so now i'm your problem" ── in which you really should've read up on the customs of your neighboring kingdom before visiting * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

➺ sleepless cinderella (f) ── 11.1k

from the sleepless cinderella series, robotics engineer!kunhang, journalist!reader, e2l ── in which you become your own cinderella one night, with six prince charmings to choose from * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

huang renjun

➺ dr_magic2303 (f, h, m) ── 18.3k

part of the strawberry sunday universe, human!renjun, siren!reader, academic rivals to lovers ── in which a mysterious user by the pseudonym of dr_magic2303 starts popping up on your university’s online forums. you’re determined to get to the bottom of their identity, so you decide to enlist the help of your academic rival for the past four years, huang renjun * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

lee jeno

➺ featherbrain (f, m) ── 48.3k

from the ayakashi series, tengu!jeno, onmyoji!reader ── in which you can't believe you've fallen for this stupid, stupid tengu * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

➺ tongue-tied (f) ── 17.4k

strangers to lovers, model!jeno, journalist!reader, reworked version of old sleepless cinderella route ── in which you find yourself getting sucked deeper and deeper into an article in order to ignore the scarily personal part that won't seem to leave you alone * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

➺ pupsick (f, m) ── 11.8k & 8.8k sequel

part of the strawberry sunday universe, werewolf!jeno, human!reader, f2l, bakery au ── in which jeno's sick and insists that you're the only one that can take care of him. but according to your only other werewolf friend, you're also what's making him sick * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here | sequel

lee donghyuck

➺ invested (f, a) ── 23.1k

ft. mark, love triangle, matching tattoo soulmate au ── in which you're convinced that you don't have a tattoo, and that you're in love with lee donghyuck * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

na jaemin

➺ the golden fruit duology (f) ── 32.0k

nades au, hades!jaemin, human!reader, persephone allegory ── in which you think you're trading away a third of your life for your dream job but get much, much more * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

➺ [COMING SOON] savvy (f, h) ── 12.2k

part of the strawberry sunday universe, dryad!jaemin, human!reader, summer camp counselors au, strangers to lovers ── in which you and jaemin end up as co-lead counselors at camp pineleaf this summer, and it's hard to deny that you two seem to just click. he thinks it's your great chemistry, but you know better. and by the time you realize what's happening, it's too late to try to keep him at arm's length * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

liu yangyang

➺ speedometer (f, ✦) ── 14.1k

street racer!yangyang, college au ── in which you meet someone who sends your heart racing * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

➺ sleepless cinderella (f, a) ── 12.9k

from the sleepless cinderella series, f1 racer!yangyang, journalist!reader ── in which you become your own cinderella one night, with six prince charmings to choose from * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

osaki shotaro

➺ sugarcoated brain (f, a) ── 13.7k

part of the venue:hell universe, band au, punk band frontman!shotaro, venue manager!reader ── in which you're assigned to take care of the band who will be filling the weekly performance slot at your workplace. you're warned their scatterbrained frontman can be a handful thanks to his tendency to misplace everything he owns. what nobody could have prepared you for is his inexplicable one-track mind when it comes to you * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

jung sungchan

➺ buzzer beater series (f, m, ✦) ── 75.1k, completed

college au (and after), hockey captain!sungchan, chronically ill!reader (migraines) ── in which you swear you’re only going to the joint halloween party being hosted by the hockey team and nu chi tau for a few minutes just to say hi to sungchan, but as can be expected with your life, something goes horribly, horribly wrong * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

➺ the soulmate factory (f, a, ✦) ── 28.9k

science fantasy au, soulmate au (red string), star crossed lovers, mystery ── in which you work at The Soulmate Factory, pressing all the buttons when you’re supposed to, changing strangers’ fates. until one day a red string appears on your finger, and you know something has gone horribly wrong. employees of the soulmate factory are explicitly barred from participating in the program. on top of hiding it from your coworkers and bosses, you also have to investigate how this even happened and undo it, before you lose your job and before you meet your soulmate * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

➺ changer (f, a) ── 22.3k & 25.5k sequel

part of the strawberry sunday universe, werewolf!sungchan, human!reader, slowish burn, blind date ── in which you and sungchan are set up on a blind date, and it goes terribly. but a chance second meeting could reignite the spark of... friendship? well shit. * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here | sequel

➺ that hot (f) ── 17.2k

meet-ugly, strangers to lovers, forced proximity (long car trip, vacation, etc.) ── in which you first get introduced to sungchan at a friend's party, but you just don't trust guys who are that hot. scene cut, and he's driving you to a cabin in the mountains that your entire friend group will be staying at for two whole weeks. then you miss your exit. then his car gets a flat tire. * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

➺ filler episodes (f) ── 16.6k & 9.5k sequel

part of the venue:hell universe, band au, drummer!sungchan, normie!reader, badboy x good girl but make it loserboy x girlfail ── in which your whole life has felt like filler episodes, and you're tired of living like that. enter jung sungchan, part-time bookstore worker, part-time tea shop employee, and part-time drummer for a local underground punk band. he's everything you're not, and as soon as he's wedged himself into your life, you find that you don't want him to go * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here | sequel

➺ weddings & funerals (a, f) ── 9.9k

exes to lovers, second chance romance ── in which you and sungchan keep ending up as each other's plus-ones to weddings and funerals, despite the fact that you broke up months ago * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

➺ tourist trapped (f) ── 2.4k

enemies to lovers (or are they...) ── in which your day out at the fair with your friends somehow ends up with you stuck at the top of the ferris wheel with the one person you'd been avoiding, sungchan. but you're not avoiding him for the reason that all your friends think you are... * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

➺ [WIP...] soulbound (f, a) ──

two bodies one soul au, acquaintances of extreme inconvenience, e2l ── in which you and sungchan share one soul between you, a fact that has been the literal bane of your existence since your birth. while the two of you personally get along like oil and water, physical distance would kill your soul and both of you with it. when you land a lucrative new job in a different city, you never expect sungchan to actually agree to uproot his entire life for your dreams * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

park jisung

➺ pur autre vie (a, f, m) ── 26.1k & 17.5k sequel

paranormal/supernatural au, ghost!jisung ── in which you inherit your stepdad's house under the condition that you can live there for as long as you take care of your mother. at first, you think her belief that the house is haunted is just her declining mind playing tricks on her. but the longer you're there, the more you start to think something isn't right... * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here | sequel

➺ the dragon's happily ever after (f, h) ── 17.4k

part of the strawberry sunday universe, dragon!jisung, human!reader, f2l, secret relationship/fake not dating trope ── in which you and jisung sort of forgot to tell your nosy friends that you're dating, but realize it's the perfect opportunity to give them a little taste of their own medicine. they're trying to set you two up, while you're trying to see how long it takes them to notice that you're already dating. cue the shenanigans * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

➺ out of left field (f) ── 16.3k

christmas/new year's-themed, college au, brother's best friend trope, baseball player!jisung, rich kid!reader, slowish burn ── in which a missed connection in the library during finals week turns into two weeks at your family's winter home with your brother's cute friend on the baseball team. as long as you and your brother don't kill each other before you even get there, this could be the best christmas ever * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

➺ mistletoe while you work (f, h) ── 6.9k

christmas-themed, established relationship, secret relationship, meddling coworkers & equally unhinged reader & jisung ── in which you and jisung truly had only meant to keep your relationship private from your colleagues until jisung's new employee evaluation. then two of your coworkers tried to convince you to sleep with jisung for his own good, and who were you to pass up the perfect opportunity for some workplace hijinks? * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

➺ want from me (f) ── 1.7k

christmas-themed, sleeping with a stranger at the office holiday party and oops! they're your new coworker trope ── in which you did not plan for the handsome stranger that you took home from the office holiday party to end up also being the new transfer to your team. you also did not plan for a repeat of that night. but you had also never planned for park jisung. * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

[skzthelomlhehe]

Hey guuyysss lol I'm down with a fever. I got little to no sleep the past few days and was severely overworked with my courses and work. Sorta collapsed lmao and woke up with a severe headache hahahahaa but I did have a fever dream! About Changbin, probably cuz I've been thinking about him a lot cuz of the oneshot I'm writing but anyways! I wanted to share this little sumthn with yall~ enjoy..~

"It's okay love... You've done enough... Let me take care of you now..." (A highly self-indulgent) Comfort oneshot.

Changbin x F!Reader

Genre: fluff, established relationship

Warnings: nothing really. Y/N is severely overworked lol.

Total masterlist Tag Reqs:@arestoucries

You were just an average girl in an average world. A middle class family, strict parents but not too strict, overly possessive but also neglectful at times if that makes sense.

You've always wanted to study this one particular course ever since you found out about it but couldn't since your parents couldn't afford it. So now, years later, you were making good money. Paid off your student debts, saved up enough to get by with enough resources and also enough to take the course you wanted.

It was an extra course, psychological studies. You were always extremely interested in it. Always fascinated how humans work. Perhaps a way of introspection even?

So with the money in your hands, you moved out after many arguments with your parents and found yourself working to the bone while juggling your 2 year course.

By the time you'd get home, you'd be left exhausted from the entire day's work. You spent countless nights just because you wanted to chase your dreams.

In the mean time, you met a guy while you worked as a barista almost three years ago. He would come by every day, sometimes catch a small chat with you when the shop was less busy. And soon, he confessed. You couldn't be happier.

After a year of dating, he offered you to move in to his house since it would be easier to share rent and stay with someone who could help you manage the household.

You agreed. He was a local singer slowly gaining fame. Both of your works would keep you from each other at times. It was manageable yes, but it could also be quite lonely since if you were home, he wasn't and if he was home, you weren't.

It was peak time for you. Work was a mess. Exams were coming up and you were extremely stressed with little to no sleep.

Ever since Changbin started making a good source of money, he asked you to take a break from work since he could afford it. But you felt too guilty and refused.

Changbin would come home almost at 1 to 2 AM and find you at your desk, drowning in caffeine and study materials.

He would have to force you to sleep. Sometimes you'd listen sometimes he'd let you be, since he didn't want you to mess up.

This one particular day though... It was too much. The exhaustion was way too clear on your face. Eye bags heavier than ever. You looked far too thin and he realised all you had the entire day was two cups of instant noodles and almost a dozen small packs of instant coffee.

"come on, baby... Don't overwork yourself. At least eat something..." He said, placing his workout bag down on one of the chairs. "Not now binnie... Busy..." You mumbled back weakly.

It really hurt him to see you all weak and slumped. He turned your chair to face him, his eyes sternly locked onto yours, "kitchen. Eat. Now." Three words. All it took was three words from that loving man's intimidating face for you to finally get up.

He sighed, making room for you to get up. A blanket wrapped around you. "Ah... Di..." Before you could finish what you were mumbling, your body almost fell to the floor. Changbin caught you immediately and thankfully you didn't fall.

"baby??? Babe?? Y/N??" You had passed out. Sweating buckets. Your body was burning up like it was on fire. "Fuck!" He grunted, picking you up in his arms and laying you on the bed. He quickly took off your blanket and changed you into a tee and pajama pants. (That's what you should do when a person collapses from fever btw-)

He grabbed his car keys and picked you up again, running to the car and drove you to the hospital as fast as he could.

You woke up, eyes blinking to a bright white light. A beeping noise feeding to your consciousness. "Y/N?? My love?? Can you hear me??" A familiar voice called out. It was Changbin. His face full of fear and concern. His hands gently held on to yours like it was the most delicate and fragile thing to exists while his trembled. "B-binnie...? What happened...?" You asked, a little above a whisper.

"You passed out from exhaustion and ran a high fever. We had to get you an IV drip and saline since you were high on caffeine with barely any food. Why would you do that, Y/N-ie...? Do you know how scared I was...?" His bottom lip trembled, tears threatening to flow out any moment.

You gripped on to his hand with the very little energy you had. "Im sorry, honeybear... There was so much to do..." "It's okay... Don't be sorry... I called your work and asked for a sick leave. They agreed to it. The test isn't until next week so please rest up, baby..."

He sat back down on the stool near your bed, he connected your hand to his forehead, his face hidden as he sniffled. It dawned on you right then just how much this man loved and cared about you and how scared he must've been to see you like that.

"I love you, binnie..." You giggled. "I... I lo-love you... Too, baby..." He replied in a shaky voice. All the adrenaline rush finally let loose and so did the waterworks.

Another hour later you were good to go and discharged. He got out of the car and opened the door for you before carrying you up to the apartment.

He held on to you tightly the entire way their, his arms still trembling slightly. He gently lay you down on the bed, placing a soft kiss on your forehead. "Im still here binnie... Im sorry if I scared you..." "I know... Don't be sorry..." He sniffled again.

You placed your hand gently on his face, rubbing your thumb on his soft wet cheek. He closed his eyes, placing his hand over yours, "it's okay love... You've done enough... Let me take care of you now..." He whispered. You smiled, sharing a soft kiss with him.

[a-killer-obsession]

Day 3 - Mistletoe Heat + Foot Fetish

Tags: afab reader, degradation, femdom, footjob, foot worship, oral sex (reader receiving)

WC: 800

You cracked your neck to the left, then to the right, stretching out the sore muscles that ached from working hard for several hours now. Pen scratching against paper after paper from a pile that seemed endless, going over all the requests the crew had for the upcoming restock island and making sure they all fit within the budget. It was careful work to juggle the finances of the Kid Pirates, it was up to you to make sure the crew raided enough treasure and sold off enough of it to cover all the necessary expenses. Your heels had long since been discarded on the floor under your desk, and you did your best to not get ink on your face as you readjusted your glasses.

“Hnng, fuck,” Heat groaned from where he sat on the other side of your desk. The seat was usually reserved for those discussing the budget or making special requests, but today it was occupied by the fire breathing commander.

“Can you keep it down?” You huffed, not bothering to look up from your work, “I'm trying to concentrate.”

“S-sorry, fuck,” Heat whined, the chair under him creaking as he shifted. His head lolled back against as your stocking covered toes pressed against his cock, stroking it against his abdomen where precum was starting to make his skin sticky. His hands ran up your calves, admiring the smooth texture of the thin nylon fabric. You sandwiched his cock between the soles of your feet and stroked his shaft with them, making him bite his lip and let out a low whine as he tried to not bother you. He held your feet together to add more pressure and jerked himself off with them, letting out a louder groan.

“Heat!” You growled, “be quiet or I'll take them away!”

“Please don't! Fuck,” Heat pleaded, “gonna- gonna cum.”

“So hurry up and do it, I'm busy,” you complained. You weren't really that busy, but Heat liked feeling ignored, like getting him off was just an inconvenient chore. It was degrading for him, and it got him hot and bothered.

“Ah, fuck,” Heat groaned, pressing your feet harder against his erection before you felt the hot wet gushes of cum dripping over your feet. He went slack in his chair, panting, as you rubbed the cum on your feet into his softening cock. The overstimulation made him whimper and leak more, making you grin as you continued to pretend to ignore him.

“Disgusting,” you grumbled in faux anger, “your gross cum is all over my feet. Clean it off, dog.”

Heat slid off his chair with a whimper and took your foot in his mouth, sucking on the clothed toes and licking away the drops of cum. His mouth worked further up your legs, worshipping them with his tongue and lips and hands, until he met your thighs where your stockings met with your garters. He nipped at the delicate skin and looked up at you with pleading eyes, groping the meat of your thighs. You spread your legs for him, revealing your lack of panties under your short skirt and your wet pussy. Heat nosed against your cunt as you hooked your legs over his shoulders, and you reached under the table to thread your non-writing hand through his hair. You pulled it hard, forcing his face properly against your cunt where he eagerly lapped at it, alternating between sucking and licking on your clit and bullying his tongue inside you. Heat always ate pussy like his life depended on it, and you always appreciated the enthusiasm.

“Good dog,” you cooed, “get me all cleaned up. Show me how much you appreciate me blessing you with my feet.”

Heat's hands gripped your thighs either side of his head as he nearly suffocated himself between them, his groans vibrating against your cunt as he ate you out under the desk. Unable to keep up the facade of concentrating on your paperwork anymore, you fully involved yourself with him, digging your other hand into his hair so that now both hands were tugging at his blue locks. Heat liked having his hair pulled, and every tug made him groan against you, making you moan in turn. One last suck on your sensitive bud and you were riding out your high against his face, holding him in place as you ground your cunt against his tongue and nose until you went boneless.

Heat pushed your chair back carefully so he could climb out from under the desk, kissing the top of your breasts and your neck before his lips found yours as he leaned over you. You could taste yourself on his tongue and you wound your arms around his neck to embrace him, feeling content and satisfied in your afterglow. “Thanks for indulging me,” he smiled, brushing his nose against yours. You replied with a sleepy “mmm,” and Heat laughed quietly, lifting you carefully to plop you in his lap on a nearby couch, so you could take a much needed break and have a quick nap with his warm body lulling you to sleep.

Like my stuff? Consider buying me a ko-fi

Oneshots Taglist: @daydreamer-in-training @chairmanraph @florcxo @luvnisstuff @nocturnalrorobin @fanaticsnail

[neysaadept]

Prometheus Chapter 4

Emily Prentiss x Female CIA Reader

Chapter 4 - Socially Blocked

Little different chapter style. Hope you enjoy. Also, I have no beta so mistakes are all me.

Tags: Limited use of y/n but established last name. Swearing, mentions of the pandemic and human and sex trafficking. Canon typical violence. Sexual innuendos. Minors DNI.

Word Count: 4.8k

AO3

Chapter 3

You had joined Prentiss in her office several hours ago to go over the forensic evidence that had come in. Laptop balancing on your thighs, you compile the data and cross reference missing persons with the families that Lewis had been gently consoling until the lab techs worked their magic. This was your nightly ritual with the section chief since joining; identification and providing closure.

What you did during the day was follow her around like a fucking assistant. You were now well versed in FBI budgetary matters, regulatory concerns, and how long new policies would be put into practice. You knew there were countless mind-numbing meetings, but this was insane. Most of the meetings could be cut in half, be done over Zoom, or just not happen at all. Just fucking email one another.

Then there were piles upon piles of paperwork to sort, sign and scan and files to review sent by local law enforcement agencies asking for FBI assistance. Just briefly glimpsing some of the cases made you wonder how one could decide which case mattered more. Go after one psycho but let the less of a psycho go free for the state to handle? Some requests had to be denied general FBI involvement due to a jurisdiction juggling nightmare that needed to be sorted first.

If this was a section chief’s life, how the fuck did Brian survive being the director of the entire CIA?

The more pressing question on your mind was why Prentiss was doing her damnedest in limiting time between you and the rest of the team. Okay, yes, Prentiss didn’t know anything about you, and yes, it was difficult to delegate work to you without knowing all your capabilities, but being a special agent in the CIA meant something.

You just gave the BAU a ton of money! Least you could do something more than be a glorified secretary! Not like you expected time out in the field, you totally understood that was out of bounds, but it’s been three days like this, and it was getting on your nerves. Why were you familiarizing yourself with FBI manuals if all you were good for was be a gopher for Prentiss?

Day 1

1145

Prentiss had given you a quick tour of the bullpen leaving the conference room for last. When you enter, excited to present your sweet offerings, you saw the team was already standing and ready to break. Introductions were made quickly, with almost every team member thanking you for the food and grabbing something.

Luke grabbed a chocolate frosted long john with a grin. “Can’t wait to catch up with you when we get back!”

You blink. Back from … what?

JJ grabbed a handful of macarons with delight, already stuffing one in her mouth as she left. “Dis isz weally nice ov ya!” she said, covering her mouth to not accidentally spew crumbs at you.

Rossi was far more debonair and rounds the choices with an index finger before plucking out a glazed twist, flashing a smile. “Thanks, kid.”

You saw Garcia slipping out quickly without making eye contact.

The hell?!

You open your mouth to say more, but he looks apologetic. “We’ll talk more later. Gotta lot going on right now, but we’ll make time.”

At least Tara had the decency to stop for a few seconds to exchange simply pleasantries. “So nice to finally meet you! Rebecca says nothing but good things.”

You raise a brow and chuckle. “Really?”

Prentiss looks unconvinced as well.

She shrugs and steals a macaron. “Yes, for real. I’ve gotta lot of family interviews and sessions lined up today, but we’ll chat more later.”

Patting you on the shoulder, Tara starts to exit the conference room backwards, pointing at you with promise. “You’re gonna have to tell me all you can about that HSC* in Saxony. Later!”

You sigh with close eyes and your head falls back. These little tidbits were not helping without context for your new boss. Even before you open your eyes to look at Prentiss, you just know she is staring at you with contempt.

Yep. There it is. Just missing an eyeroll.

Without being asked, you take a seat at the table and shove the box towards Prentiss. “We were tailing ISIS members. One decided he could get away when we moved in and learned how very wrong he was about it.”

1315

Prentiss left you to read FBI procedural manuals while she went to meet the deputy director. She had thought it prudent to delay you two crossing paths for as long as possible considering he was not happy with either of you. It was nice to hear that you had something in common with Prentiss. The tiny scrap of connection was something, no matter how pitiful. And you knew Prentiss was happy to upset Bailey.

This leaves you alone for a short time and you decide to use it wisely and check in on Garcia. It was really bothering you why she ignored you earlier today. Yeah, the team was busy with the Sicarius case, but everyone else had acknowledged you as they hurried off. Surely the bold color choices of her ensemble meant she was outgoing and not shy. You didn’t even make polite eye contact.

So, you go by instinct and grab a few left over macarons and position them with purpose on a white paper plate before heading to what you learned was The Lair.

Aware of not barging in on a tech’s work, unless you wanted to have your head bit off, you knock and wait.

“Entrer!’ you hear through the door and smile.

You open the door and poke your head in with a playful grin. “Hey, Garcia.”

The flurry of typing abruptly stops and you see her stiffen. Your grin quickly falls into a frown.

“I’m sorry.” You fully move into the room, noting the same outlandish decor that matches Garcia’s clothing. “I hope I’m not bothering you?” you say hopefully.

“Nope!” She pops the p and goes back to typing. By a cursory glance on what was on the screens, yeah, you had no idea what she was working on.

Garcia said nothing more but the stiff body language and her outright ignoring you once again, made it clear you upset her. Pushing her at this moment would only cause the divide to widen. You barely know each other.

“Well, I saw you didn’t take any treats and brought them to you. Probably hard getting away while you’re …”

“Cataloging important data,” she said quickly, still not looking at you.

“Yeah, so …” you look around and see an open spot on the table to her right. You are careful to not move anything when you put the plate down next to a fuzzy neon green turtle. “Enjoy when you-“

“Hey Garica, I’m jus-“ Prentiss’ fond tone quickly dissolves to accusatory. “You’re supposed to be in my office.”

“And I took a break. That a problem?” you challenge, taking in Prentiss confident posture, hand out before her with the other in her suit pants pocket. She cut quite the authoritative figure.

Garcia keeps typing away but slower so she can concentrate on you and Prentiss.

“No, but I’d appreciate you leaving the team alone while they’re working.” The words sound like a suggestion, but the tone was an order.

“Yeah, sure,” you concede, again, not wanting to cause an unnecessary argument. But first, you bow to the back of Garcia sitting in her chair. “Bon appetit!”

You rise and move pass Prentiss, both of you locking gazes and it ticks you off you had to look away since you were the one leaving.

“Oh, darn it!” whimpers Garcia. “Why?!”

Alarmed, Prentiss walks over to her with concern. “What’s wrong, Penelope?”

With a deeply etched sullen look on her face, she shows Emily the plate you had left. It was a macaron smiley face. One eye was pink, the other blue, and the smile was purple. You chose the bright colors on purpose.

“Why'd she have to do something this cute?!” she complains. “I’m not supposed to like her!”

1750

You roll your head working out the stiffness that settles in your shoulders from being hunched over most of the day on Prentiss’ couch going over manuals and signing off on orientation documents. You had tried various positions to find any source of comfort once joints began to ache. You sat on your ass with feet on the floor, legs on the couch, cross one leg, then the other, then had to stretch them along the couch. Then you said fuck it and placed the laptop on the cushion and laid supine while working and then to top it off, you sat on the floor with the laptop on the couch like a desk not giving any fucks what Prentiss thought.

She offered the couch, not her desk, to work on, and you didn’t want to get all up in her business setting up shop across from her. She’d probably shoot you if you decided to leave for a desk in the bullpen. And oddly enough, when it appeared you were going to get up, she engaged in questions about what you were reading or if you had any concerns. All sterile and by the book, but with suspicious brown eyes trying to figure you out.

It was only day one and you were willing to play the game, not letting her get to you. All in all, it really was a typical first day of boring bullshit. Just without a cubicle.

Eh, you had suffered far worse with even more irate coworkers and direct supervisors. But this felt different. Maybe Brian was right and you weren’t made for the general population. And yes, that meant the people at Quantico.

You weren’t kidding that Prentiss was a legend when you made that quip. Faking her own death to protect that kid and her team was a brilliant self-sacrificing move that you deeply respected. Then as you dug deeper into the team’s background, you gained a deeper respect for the BAU’s work, dedication, and the trauma they’ve been through to keep the people of your country safe.

Of course, you honed in on Prentiss’ work since she was your superior. One assumed if you were CIA or former CIA everyone knew each other and that simply wasn’t the case. While Prentiss was infiltrating Doyle’s criminal organization, you were gathering intel in Afghanistan on al-Qa’ida's operations. You two worked very different operative circles.

Despite your specializations never intersecting professionally until now, on paper, you two should at least get along and have something to talk about then just … whatever this was in her office right now. You both were driven, intelligent women who were dedicated to the people on your team and would protect them at all costs. Your skill sets were complementary and overlapped with being seasoned international operatives, you spoke several languages, focused on counter terrorism, and were awarded many commendations for mission successes and demonstration of skill sets.

But here you are, sitting on the floor of her office like you were her kid finishing homework.

“You should probably head home.”  

You glance over your shoulder and scowl, seeing Prentiss was looking down at a file and not you.

“I don’t mind staying and catching up with all this. Same thing I’d be doing at the apartment. The lab reports are important to review ASAP.” You didn’t want to correct her about what home was and wasn’t.

You look at the files cluttering the desk and cross your lips in thought. “Need any help? Granted, I’m not savvy enough yet on all the FBI lingo but paperwork’s still a bitch however you cut it.”

That made her look up at you. She was motionless as she considered your proposal and your earnest face.

“Thank you, but no.” She looks down again. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Aye, aye, Cap’n.” After you salute, you stand up and stretch, hearing your knees pop. You then grab your laptop and manuals, tucking them under your arms securely.

Note to self, bring a backpack.

You are polite as you walk by, offering a nod she didn’t appear to see. “Night, Prentiss.”

She hums noncommittally but as you drag your eyes away from her desk, you notice something that provides a glimmer of hope.

On a napkin that had been tucked out of view near one of the file stacks was a half-eaten red macaron.

Day 2

0630

You came to Quantico early with a bottle of Diet Coke in hand and your black and grey backpack secure around both shoulders, ready to tackle the day before anyone else got here.

Yet you see a movement coming from Prentiss’ office window and have to stop. She was already here? You squint in thought and presume she had stayed late and came in early – basing this assumption on her work ethic and how every good leader worked themselves ragged on little sleep.

You down some more pop and climb the stairs to her office, gently knocking. She opens the door and you raise a brow at her because she was wearing yesterday’s clothes.

“What are you doing here?” she asks with surprise accusation.

“Wanted an early start. What’s your excuse?” you probe gently.

She thins her lips and steps aside as a silent invitation to come inside. “Sicarius.”

Prentiss didn’t have to say anything further for you to understand the unspoken. She had no one to go home to, so why worry about time and just bury herself in work. And by the time Prentiss realized what time it was, she might as well stay in her office and sleep. She probably had a change of clothing in the closet, and it was easy to freshen up in one of the locker rooms. It was a more productive use of her time than driving home to do the same thing and come right back here. Avoid all that traffic.

You should know. You’ve done it yourself many times.

“Fair enough,” you say without judgement as you drop your backpack on the couch. “Does the team know?”

She reaches for the white FBI seal decorated coffee mug on her desk and frowns. “Know what?”

“That you stay here sometimes.” You knock back several gulps of pop before setting the bottle down on the side table.

After a moment of consideration while sipping her coffee, she looks to you with a narrowing gaze. “No.”

You nod, understanding the silent request. “Secret’s safe with me.”

1233

You were grabbing a cup of coffee for an afternoon pick me up, when you hear slow purposeful footsteps coming closer.

“Like a little coffee with your cream there, kid?” Rossi jokes, coming to stand beside you.

You chuckle. “I do. Bonus if it’s French Vanilla.”

He regards you with wizened eyes, but you could tell he was exhausted with how often he blinks. “How long have you been CIA?”

Oh here we go.

“Long time.” It wasn’t a precise answer, but it also wasn’t a lie.

“Sounds like me and the FBI.” His eyes twinkle with mirth.

“Hey, I’m not that old,” you answer with a grin before taking a sip of coffee.

He laughs as you swallow and continue. “You know, it’s probably not a surprise I know your work, Mr. Writer.”

Rossi acknowledges with a nod. “No, this does not come as a surprise at all.”

You hum, nodding. “Broken Child was the first one I read. Though, I did follow your work with the Gideons closely.”

He smiles with delight. “Really?” Rossi pauses and gestures for you to follow him to continue this conversation elsewhere. You could tell he was fascinated by this. “How far back?”

“Oh, pretty far. As you know, your guys’ work wasn’t all BAU related.”

“True. The CIA did take part of our research for profiling training. And to use for psych evals on operatives.” He smiles. “Am I getting close?”

“Definitely warm.” You smile back. “It was part of my training.”

“You’ll have to tell me more.”

And just as things were becoming interesting with a non-Prentiss member of the BAU, she has to come and ruin it. It’s like the woman had a sixth sense when you were getting too close to one of her teammates.

“Hey, Dave. I need you in the conference room. JJ and Luke have an update on our unsub in Texas.”

“Right.” He holds out his hand, which you take, and he gently squeezes. “I look forward to continuing this later.”

Your smile was bright. Working with Rossi was a perk of agreeing to this. You never thought you’d have the chance to have face to face time with someone who wrote the blueprints for training you, again.

“Yeah, me too.”

He keeps your hand for a moment longer before letting go and looking at Prentiss. “You sure the kid can’t just listen in?”

You try not to look eager and utterly fail. You just know you got the sad puppy dog eyes going. Which, of course, doesn’t work on the leery section chief. “Whitlock has promised to help me with paperwork. Isn’t that right?”

Fucking hell! She’s using generosity from last night as an excuse to keep me busy. ARGH!

Of course, you’re not going to call her out on it as you really did offer to help and meant it. You manage to keep the disappointment hidden from your voice and raise your cup to her. “Indeed, I did.”

“You can start with scanning the reports on top of my desk calendar.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” you salute carefully with your coffee hand and wander off.

As you are leaving, Rossi looks to Prentiss with a knowing look. “You do know she might be able to help us with the case. You just don’t want her to.”

Emily heard the unspoken question of why. “We barely know anything about her. I don’t need a wildcard fucking anything up.”

“Emily. Come on. She’s a seasoned CIA operative. We could pick her brain while she’s here instead of hiding her away in your office. Actually use her as a consultant.”

“You just like her because she read your books,” she fires back sarcastically.

“Well, yeah, but that’s not the point…”

1435

Whitlock: I hate this place

You were chatting with Brian on the CIA secure network on your laptop instead of your phone to avoid making Prentiss press as to what you were doing. You even silenced the chat notifications

Korogoth: It’s only the second day.

Whitlock: All I’m doing is reading and paperwork :(

Whitlock: Prentiss keeps socially blocking me!

Korogoth: What does that even mean?

Whitlock: I’m stuck in her office all day and when I need to go do something, she’s always up my ass. And when I’m free and have time to chat the team up, she magically shows up and stops it. It fucking sucks!

Whitlock: Stuffs coming in with the big case and I get to know nothing.

Whitlock: So all I do is read the FBI shit, which I know I need to do and scan in shit. I’m a over qualified secretary

Whitlock: UGH

Korogoth: Regretting it?

Whitlock: Yes

Whitlock: No

Whitlock: Maybe. Helping the families find closure is important tho.

Whitlock: And … I got to speak to Rossi for a sec

Korogoth: … and?

Whitlock: I told him I was a big fan :D

Korogoth: LOL really?

Whitlock: Why is that so funny?!

Whitlock: :P

Korogoth: What did you talk about?

Whitlock: That I read his books and papers.

Whitlock: With the Gideons

Korogoth: *facepalm*

Korogoth: Tread carefully missy.

Whitlock: ;)

Present Day

1145

JJ had returned earlier this morning with Luke and was now sitting with Garcia at her desk in the bullpen. They were focused on whatever was on Garcia’s computer and were animatedly discussing something about a message app behind a weather one.

You start to head over there but Prentiss comes in with Bailey and the deputy director makes a bee line right for you.

Ah, fuck.

You beat him to the introductions and hold out your hand towards him. “Hello Deputy Director Bailey. Special Agent Whitlock.”

“Yes, I know who you are.” He does not take your hand, and you curl it into a fist before dropping it. “I’m surprised it’s taken us this long to be formally introduced.” His tone was dripping with malice as he scrutinizes Prentiss.

Before Prentiss can react, you jump in to defend her. You hate high profile dickwards like him. “Well, there’s a lot going on with orientating me to FBI standards. Can’t go all CIA on your protocols.” You smile patronizingly. “Gotta be by the book, right?”

“Despite her unorthodox addition to the team, it’s prudent her training remains up to FBI standards,” Prentiss adds while Bailey attempts to stare you down.

He wasn’t even pathetically cute. Just … pathetic. The deputy director’s appearance was far too clean cut and pristine. He didn’t have that disgruntled tone that revealed years of field work that jaded an agent. There was no desensitized look in his eyes, just bureaucratic contempt.

“I’m glad to hear that. It takes months for an agent to go through training at Quantico, Whitlock. You wouldn’t want to diminish their hard work with the quick pass you’ve gotten.”

You smile sweetly.

What an asshole.

“We’re all on the same side, even though we’re on different teams, Deputy Director.” You lean forward with promise. “I won’t besmirch the good name of the FBI.”

Then your eyes drag over to Prentiss’ and soften. “I’m here to help.”

1345

You see the team assembled in the bullpen and have no idea what they’re talking about because you are in Prentiss’ office sorting paperwork. Your sincere invitation for Prentiss to trust you when Bailey was here was ignored.

1437

You are slowly dying inside sitting in on a budget meeting with Prentiss …

1634

… and then an advisory meeting with the DOJ. Too bad Rebecca wasn’t here but then that would be socializing.

You two chatted briefly after your first day and made a promise to properly catch up when you could. With your schedules, it’ll be difficult but with how things are going. Well, more her schedule than yours …

1930

You come back from your introspection that had occurred over the last few days and try to focus on the unfinished email you were drafting for Lewis. The problem is that the words remain blurry, and you are unable to concentrate to type the rest of your thoughts. Your thoughts are swimming around the fact that in the three days you have been at Quantico all you've been is snubbed by the woman currently ignoring you at her desk.

You close your laptop and rise to take a seat across from Prentiss. Her mouth hangs open, with what you presume would be a line of questioning as to where you were going to go, and instead found you seated before her. Your boldness took her by surprise.

“Ah, yes?” she asks cautiously. “Something wrong with the lab reports?”

She was well aware if you had an issue with the reports, you would have said something from the couch. As you have done before.

“No. Just, you.”

You know you should be more patient like Brian encouraged you to be. Let Prentiss take the lead and integrate you into the unit. But you weren’t stupid. You can read the room, and the room wanted you far away from the members of the BAU.

Prentiss straightens up with wide eyes at the audacity of your words. “Excuse me?”

“No, you’re not excused. Not unless you can tell me why you’re keeping me all to yourself,” you respond flippantly.

She licks the back of her bottom teeth before it drags along her lower lip. Oh yes, Prentiss is ready to throw down with you. You see how her pupils blow wide at being provoked and she caps her pen before her. “All right. You want to do this? Let’s do this.”

The pen drops, as does the pretense before you.

“I don’t know you. But I do know I can’t trust you. Anyone I can’t trust is a danger to my people and therefore, you get to stay the hell away from them.”

You throw your hands up in celebration. “Finally! A real conversation.” You lower your arms and lean back, resting a leg over the opposite knee. “I’m sorry I can’t be completely forthcoming about everything about me. But that’s not my call. My shit’s sealed for a reason but it’s not because I did anything illegal. I'm sure that's what you're worried about."

“Then why did you need a lawyer?” she presses.

Fuck.

“I can’t say.”

She shakes her head with displeasure. “Of course you can’t. Because good agents don't need help covering up their messes.”

“Oh come the fuck on, Prentiss. Wilson’s a good person. A good lawyer. She helped me because …” You grit your teeth because you need to collect your thoughts before you say too much. You inhale deeply and uncross your legs to lean forward, gesturing with open hands for understanding. “… because it was a call I had to make. Follow orders and have people die. Or I did what I did. Which I was absolved of, ya know. That's gotta count for something?"

Without knowing the exact circumstances of what you did, you weren’t sure if Prentiss would care or not. You could have disobeyed orders because they were truly the wrong call or your superior was compromised in some way, or this was a cover up because you fucked up. You are hoping that she thinks the former because of dropping Wilson’s name as a good person and lawyer. Which is all true!

You watch as she subtly shakes her head, at war with her thoughts. “But there’s nothing about you. You barely exist. I can’t just accept you if there's nothing to back up your claims. So, you’re a means to an end for me. For the BAU.”

Wow. Pretense is so gone now ...

“You know, I’ve been thinking of myself as your highly paid secretary, but hey,” you roll your eyes, “let’s go with CIA sugar mama.”

“See that,” she points at you with indignation. “That right there’s why I can't take you seriously. You’re fucking lack of respect. Making jokes that are way outta line.”

“Oh fuck you and your wine addiction.” Yeah, you went there, gesturing to the half empty bottle. The woman downed a one a night and that was only what you saw. You wouldn’t be surprised if she had more. “Least I use humor to mask the trauma of my past instead of drowning it with alcohol and work.”

“How dare you make fucking assumptions about me,” she snaps, voice raising to meet yours.

You audibly scoff and rise, Prentiss doing the same. “You’ve been doing it the whole time since we met, let alone profiling me. Which I get, since you don’t know shit about me. But at least I was trying to get along with you despite the fucking cold shoulder. I ain’t expecting to be best friends but you don’t need to be a bitch about the situation.”

You turn around to grab your things, knocking over several empty Diet Coke bottles that you balanced on the couch arm.

“And where do you think you’re going?”

“Leaving your delightful presence.” You stuff your backpack with your laptop and books. “I’ve had more than enough of this shit.”

You miss the moment of panic on Prentiss’ face since your back was turned. Her mind was reeling with the ramification of what this could mean. Are you leaving for good? If you weren’t working with the BAU on paper the contract would be in breach. Pride kept her from asking you to clarify as she watches you storm off and slam the door behind you.

Emily grits her teeth as she leans over her desk, trying to stop her hands from shaking. She gives up, the anxiety of the situation she finds herself in too much and pulls the top left drawer open of the desk to get the pack of cigarettes stashed there. She quickly lights up and takes a long drag off the cigarette, unable to fight her trembling lips as she blows the smoke free.

“Fuck…”

What was she doing to do?

*High Speed Chase

Chapter 5

[candlewaxandp0lar0ids]

jealousy, jealousy || Chan x f!reader

Summary: You can feel Chan's eyes on you from across the room. If you're honest, you're enjoying the attention a little more than you should. Sure, technically there's nothing about the little 'arrangement' between the two of you that justifies it, but if you're being honest, what you have with him has been about more than sex for quite some time now.

Word count: 5k

Genres: college AU, friends with benefits AU, smut

Warnings & Tags: jealousy, swearing, mentioned slut shaming (not in a sexy way), smut [oral sex (f receiving), fingering, vaginal sex], unprotected sex, reader has commitment issues

series masterlist

A/N: final piece in this series! I hope you've enjoyed the ride with me, even if it took way longer than anticipated~ Thank you for the love and support!

Ask anyone on campus, and they’ll tell you how wonderful of a person Bang Chan is. Sweet, kind, involved in campus life, somehow juggling being captain of the swim team with being producer-singer-songwriter for the rising group 3RACHA, he’s loved by everyone and their mother — literally, since he’s the ideal son-in-law.

Ask anyone on campus, and they’ll say you’re a bitch.

Well, maybe not a bitch, but the word that comes back about half the time when talking about you is messy.

To be fair, it’s not a reputation you’ve done anything to counter, or something that you’d say isn’t true about you. ‘Homewrecker’, that you disagree with. You don’t keep tabs on people, and if guys happen to have girlfriends when they hook up with you, you don’t think it says anything about you. ‘Slut’ also gets thrown around every now and then. You don’t feel any type of way about it. Yeah, you like to have fun, no shame in that. Part of you is amused by the word, thinks that the second it gets dropped in a conversation, you know to stop giving a fuck about the person using it. The other’s somewhat annoyed by it. No one’s saying that about Seo Changbin, even if there’s a different girl in his bed every other day. No, he’s a lady’s man, a charmer, but you’re a Jezebel, even though— Ah, forget it. You don’t have to justify any of your actions.

You know your reputation leads to you being easily approached by dudes, specifically when you’re at a party on campus. Guys think it means you’re more likely to sleep with them, when the truth is, you’re very picky with a large number of people to chose from, and no reason to go for the bottom of the barrel.

The thing is, though, that you like having fun at parties. Dancing around, laughing with people, maybe a little bit of harmless flirting that doesn’t have to lead anywhere, that’s just part of it for you. The guys who approach you, however, have a tendency to take that as an indication that you want to fuck them. Which leaves you in the uncomfortable position of having to strike a balance between having fun, not leading people on, and not being mean to them if you’re not interested. Except you regularly do have to be mean to them.

Hence the ‘bitch’ reputation.

Tonight’s not any different on that front. You’re having fun with some guy you have no intention of fucking, laughing at his jokes, all without getting too close. It wouldn’t bother you to do that, even without doing anything with him later on, but you don’t want to deal with that much drama tonight.

What’s new — though it’s become increasingly familiar to you lately — is Chan’s attention on you, which you can feel radiating towards you from across the room. You’ve caught him staring three times in the last hour, shooting him a knowing grin when he didn’t look away fast enough, daring him to come over, if it bothered him that much. He hasn’t moved so far. But he’s been glaring for a while.

It's not like he's not busy, too. He’s surrounded by people, several of whom are talking to him. They get his attention every now and then, and he’s pretty good at pretending. He just keeps on coming back to you, like a butterfly drawn to an incandescent lightbulb.

That’s a game you don’t mind playing, but you’re starting to get bored of the conversation you’re having and, well, you’re not trying to upset Chan, even if he’s cute when he’s angry.

“I’m gonna go get some fresh air,” you say, smile turning polite, as you uncross your legs and start to get up. That works, sometimes. People let you go, and take the hint when you don’t come back.

“I’ll come with you,” the guy says, mimicking your movement immediately.

That isn’t rare either. Just means you’ll have to work a little harder to shake him off.

Though the weather’s been warm lately, a reminder that summer is just around the corner, the air outside still feels cold, compared to how hot it was inside. It would be the perfect change of pace, if it wasn’t for the presence still hovering right beside you. You’re figuring the right way of getting rid of him when he puts his sweaty, clammy arms around your shoulders, and you can’t stop yourself from jumping out of his reach, the feeling supremely unpleasant.

Oops. So much for tact.

“Look,” you say as he’s staring at you with surprise, “I’ve had fun, but I think it’s time we go our separate ways.”

Smooth. There was definitely a better way of phrasing this.

At least you didn’t tell him he’d been boring you for the past twenty minutes?

You don’t get much time to feel bad though, because his face contorts in anger — not disappointment, sadness, or even embarrassment, but anger — and then he goes “Are you for real? You’ve been fucking teasing—”

“Hey,” a stern voice comes from behind him. “I think she wants you to leave her alone.”

“I don’t see how that’s any of your fucking business,” he snaps, turning around, and then freezing when he’s met with Chan, who’s folded his arms over his chest in his best impression of a displeased dad. “Chan, I, uh—”

It takes one look from Chan for the guy to vanish without adding another word. No one wants to cross him, all too aware of the fact that he can ruin someone’s life by even implying that he doesn’t like them — ‘cause Chan’s so nice, why wouldn’t he like you? It’s pretty suspicious of you, to be disliked by this one dude, who’s never asked anyone to take his opinion as gospel.

“My knight in shining armor,” you purr, taking one step towards Chan, mostly just so you can enjoy hearing him clear his throat and watch him averting his eyes. You both know you’re his biggest weakness, after all. “You know I was going to be fine, right?”

That brings back the frown on his face.

“He couldn’t take you telling him you weren’t interested. That shouldn’t be your problem to deal with.”

He has a point. You think. Maybe. You can’t tell for sure, because this is just so normal for you. These days, every other interaction with guys goes like this, and you’ve sometimes had to grapple with the uncomfortable question of whether it’s your reputation doing the work for you, or if you are making people think you’re interested. You know what you do when you’re trying to get into someone’s bed, know that you didn’t pull any of it with that guy, but clearly you’re not being perceived that way.

In the end, you shrug.

“I mean, I was having a good time before this. I just wasn’t going to fuck him.”

It’s always fun to see Chan react to how blunt you are. You know for a fact that he’s capable of swearing like sailor — like he does when he’s inside you — but he always seems taken aback by you being this direct.

You get another step closer. Now, you’d just have to push a little to steal a kiss from him, and his plump lips sure are looking awfully tempting.

“Were you bored without me?” you ask, mischief dancing in your eyes.

“I was—” He clears his throat, not quite looking at you. There was a time when this behavior would have annoyed him, which you also found to be fun, but these days are far behind you now. “—busy.”

You hum in amusement, not fooled by the answer whatsoever — and a little insulted he’d even try that excuse when you know he’s been staring, and he knows you know he’s been staring — but there’s still a tiny little bit of concern poking through.

“Aw,” you say, not dropping the teasing, “even at a party you can’t get a break?” And then, leaning even closer, “Want me to help you relieve some of that stress?”

The tip of his ears goes red, but this time he meets your eyes, and you think he’s going to give in, when a voice calls his name.

From behind him, in appears Mido, and you raise an eyebrow at her. One of the top students in her field, she’s also super involved in campus life. Lately, she’s been busy planning a music festival — you think, you haven’t been paying much attention — which has led her to hang around Chan a lot. She’s pretty high-strung and a workaholic in the making, but she’s kinda cute in her determination. She’s also very into Chan, which, really, who isn’t?

But that makes her, uh, not your biggest fan. You suspect that she’s caught on to some of what’s been going between you and Chan, and it’s clear that she’s not super happy about it. You can’t really blame her. You probably wouldn’t want yourself hanging around Chan that much, if you were a friend of his — not even out of jealousy, but out of fear that you’d break his heart.

“I’ve been looking for you,” she says, somewhat out of breath, “I’ve been working on changing the program, like we’ve discussed, and I was hoping you could take a look at what I’ve got done.”

And there goes your sympathy, replaced with annoyance in the span of a minute.

Maybe you’re like Tinkerbell, not enough space within you for more than one emotion at any given time.

You’re speaking before Chan’s gotten the time to opine and get to work again.

“Seriously?” you say. “It’s a Saturday night. It’s— Fuck, it’s almost two a.m. Can’t he get a break?”

You get a surprised look from Chan, while Mido rolls her eyes like she’d expected that reaction from you and came prepared.

“I realize that you don’t understand the concept of responsibilities, but some of us have stuff to do.”

You almost want to laugh.

“The faculty isn’t going to collapse in on itself if Chan takes a night off.”

“It’s work that’s going to accumulate and make it worse on him as it goes on—”

“Then it sounds like you need to learn to delegate more efficiently, because there is no way that he’d have to be working these hours if that was handled better.”

Mido’s turning very red now, opening and closing her mouth as she looks for a retort. You suppose that the jab at her abilities, something she probably values a lot, wasn’t that nice, but also, fuck, you mean this. Unpleasant opinions have a tendency to slip out of you without you having much control over it, but it’s not like you can take them back when you very much thought ever word you said.

“Hey, how about we calm down,” Chan says, putting a hand on your shoulder, and you know that he has a point, but that doesn’t stop you from wanting to snap ‘why should I calm down’ at him. You hold back just enough to get to see him turn around towards Mido with a polite smile. “I’ll look at the schedule first thing tomorrow,” he promises her, and she’s clearly boiling, but she’s more in control of herself than you are, so she doesn’t say anything.

“Sure,” she answers, sounding like she’s stopping herself from screaming. “I’ll email it to you.”

“Thanks,” Chan nods.

He only turns to look at you once she’s left the balcony, marching back inside, no doubt beelining for her friends in order to complain about you.

“Can’t you just play nice?” Chan asks you. He sounds tired rather than pissed.

“I would if you played less nice,” you say. You know that he’s going to have something to retort to that, because he’d probably drop dead if he put himself first for one fucking time in his life, and you don’t want to play into that. So instead, you hook two of your fingers into his belt, pulling him closer to you.

“What do you say we make good use of your hard-earned freedom?”

He swallows, and you know you’ve got him wrapped around your finger, even if it only lasts until morning.

You’re already entangled with Chan by the time you push him through his door. His back hits the wall, and he lets out a delightful groan into your mouth. He’s kept his hands gentlemanly on your waist, but you know for a fact that the gentleman act never lasts that long when he’s with you. It’s just a matter of getting him to snap, and these past few months have given you all the opportunities you needed to master that skill.

“You sure Changbin isn’t here tonight?” you ask against his lips. “We could give him a show.” Then, with a grin, “Or we could ask him to join.”

And sure enough, that gets to him. His kiss turns more demanding, he bites at your bottom lip, and, fucking finally, he grabs a handful of your ass. You hear yourself letting out an undignified yelp.

“No way,” he growls, giving you another one of his glares, eyes dark and filled with desire.

“Hmmm, I really like you jealous,” you can’t help but tease him, pushing your hips against him where you can feel him, already half hard. You’d bet he gets off on the idea of showing you that you’re his.

But the comment seems to throw him off a little and he ducks his head sheepishly.

“I’m sorry,” he says, the gentleman in him getting back on top when all you want is for him to rail you unceremoniously. “About earlier.”

He hasn’t let go of you, but he looks like he wants to get this off his chest before you can go with the festivities, so you humor him, wrapping your arms around his neck as you listen to him. If your nails graze against the nape of his neck, it sure isn’t in an attempt to get him to focus back on you.

“You were defending me,” you say with a shrug, mostly to give him in an out.

“No, I was, but—” Ugh, he’s not going to take it. “I was jealous. And I know I— I have no right to be.”

Aw. It’s kinda cute, though you wish he’d stop with the self-flagellation.

“It’s all good,” you find yourself whispering, tone soft, genuinely trying to comfort him rather than just wanting to get it over with. “I didn’t mind.”

The kiss that follows is sweet, soft. When his tongue brushes against yours, it sends shivers all the way down your spine. You’ve long known that Chan has that kind of effect on you.

You’re just not quite ready to grapple with that right now.

“I mean, we both know we can fuck whoever we want,” you add with a vague shrug. “Doesn’t mean I like seeing you being around Mido all the time either.”

“Um,” Chan says, “I don’t— I mean I’m not—”

Fuck it. He’s just too cute. The way he blushes, the way his ears turn red… You just cannot resist the urge to push yourself on your toes to bite gently at the lobe, enjoying the way his whole body shakes at the sensation, before pressing a kiss against his temple.

“Right,” you purr. “You’re only fucking me.”

You might take a little too much pleasure when you say it, if you’re being honest. It’s not purely sexual, too, but you’re choosing not to unpack that right now either. Instead, you find Chan’s mouth, press yourself closer to him, let your tongue run over his lips before he eagerly meets it with his. His left hand comes up to tilt your head back, calloused fingers pushing against your jaw. Despite yourself — because the gesture’s too gentle, too intimate — you raise a hand to cover his, entangling your fingers with his.

His following exhale sounds ragged, painful maybe.

Then he’s grabbing strongly at your waist and suddenly you’re the one with your back against the wall, and he’s pushing his thigh between your legs, spreading them open.

“Fuck,” you hiss.

“Sorry, did I hurt you?”

Gosh, you need him to worry a little less and to start taking responsibility for what he’s doing to you.

“Need you inside me,” is your answer. “Now.”

And that asshole has the gall to shoot you a grin, lifting only one corner of his mouth.

“I might as well make this last, right? Since I’m only fucking you.”

You want to pout, but it’s really fucking hard to keep control over your facial features when he flexes his thigh and it takes all of your willpower to resist rolling your hips and starting to ride him. You will not be giving him the satisfaction.

…not just yet anyway.

Since two can play that game, however, you trace your fingers up his muscular thigh, watch his expression shift from amusement to anticipation as you get closer and closer to his hard cock, now clearly outlined through his pants.

“C’mon, Chan,” you plead, something you’re not above doing, as you easily unbutton his jeans, “you know you want it too.”

Your lips ghost over his neck as your hand makes its way past the band of his boxers and wraps around him, with a little satisfaction coming from the fact that he’s not just hard, he’s also already dripping precum. He groans at your touch, and you grin — though, if you were thinking about previous encounters with him right now, you’d know it’s still too early to claim victory. Your grip remains light, your hand movement slow, tantalizing but nowhere near enough to bring him release.

“I really, really,” you press your thumb against the tip of his cock, rubbing it gently, with more intensity, just so he knows what you could do if he just let himself give in, “want you inside me.” This time it’s more of a whine that he lets out, his breath coming out in tense huffs as he rests his head on your shoulder, and you think you’ve got him right where you want him.

But then he lifts his head and meets your eyes, and you immediately know you’re going to have to wait.

“Where would the fun be in that now, love?”

It’s not the pet name that sets your heart in a frenzy. It’s not. It’s his tone, how warm his eyes are, the anticipation of the pleasure that’s to come.

It’s not the pet name.

“Think you keep standing for me?” he asks you, voice low and rumbling. You blink at him.

“What—”

Then he drops to his knees.

“C’mon, love. When have I ever let you down?”

Ohhh. You think you’re going to really, really enjoy what he’s planning for you.

He takes his sweet time getting on with the program, though. His hands start on your calves, slowly making their way up your legs, and it takes everything for you not to plead with him, again, to get moving. You’re dripping wet for him by now. Your legs are starting to feel weak under you, but it’s too early to give in.

Chan’s large hands reach your thighs, his touch setting your skin on fire with every brush. When he presses a wet kiss against the inside of your thigh, so close to where you actually need him, you let out a whine. You feel him grin against you, but he keeps going, slow and steady, inching closer and closer. He easily lifts your dress up, pushing it up over your stomach so it’s out of the way. By then, you can actually feel his breath against your pussy, and you’re so fucking sensitive in that area right now, you think you’d kill to feel his tongue on you.

But he’s not done yet, no, that would be too easy. He slides your ruined panties down your legs, even when you whine for him to just leave it, it’s fine, and wraps a hand around your ankle to make you step out of them.

Then he kisses the inside of your thigh, again, and your patience runs out. Threading your fingers through his hair, you pull on it, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to remind him of where his attention should be.

That asshole has the nerve to laugh at that.

He gives you what you want right after that, though. He closes his mouth around your clit, and you throw your head back, loud moans spilling from your lips. You’ve never been one to believe in restraint, and if anything, Chan loves how vocal you get. You’re rewarded by the feeling of his warm, wet tongue on you, and all you can do is hold on to him for dear life, your other hand trying to find something to brace yourself on and coming up empty.

“Fuck, Chan,” you whimper.

“If that’s too much for you,” he says, pulling away, “I can always—”

You guide him right back between your legs. And he gets back to work.

If there’s one thing you have to give to him, it’s that he never half-asses anything. His tongue dances sinfully on your skin, his teeth graze against your folds, tantalizing, and you’re reduced to moans, whines, and desperate pleas for more — you have no idea what it is you want, but Chan knows exactly what you need. He’s already got you crying out his name in a broken litany when he pushes two fingers into you. They slide right in, and you gasp for air, briefly falling quiet at the pleasure.

Your knees give in under you, and Chan catches you just in time.

“You’re all good, love,” he praises you as he lifts one of your legs. “Just hold on a little longer for me, alright?”

There’s something about him talking to you like that, about the kind warmth of his words, that turns your insides into jelly. So all you do is nod as he helps you hook your leg over his shoulder.

“You okay?” he asks you, still taking the time to check up on you even though he should know by now that he’s the best lay you’ve ever had.

As an answer, you use your heel to push him back into you. Once you’ve got his mouth and his fingers back on you and in you, you let yourself drown into the pleasure. Because, fuck, having Chan’s undivided attention, having him eating you out like a starved man while his fingers curl inside of you, sliding in and out with a slow rhythm — if this isn’t what heaven feels like, you don’t think you want it.

Your legs start to shake as your orgasm approaches. By the time you cum, with a loud, high-pitched cry, Chan’s hand under your ass and the leg you have over his shoulder are really the only things keeping you upright. He doesn’t let you go for one second, allowing you to move your hips to ride the wave of your orgasm, even if it’s just little jerks of your hips, because you have zero control of your body right now.

You’d hate that on any other occasion.

Right now, you don’t mind.

You feel yourself slide to the floor as you slowly regain your brain cells. Chan’s still all around you, his heat, his arms, cradling you while you come back to your senses. He rubs your back, mumbling praises into your ear, and it’s good, it’s so fucking perfect, but you need— you can’t let this go that route, not just yet. He already knows you get a little cheesy towards the end of the night, so that’s fine, but it’s too early to succumb to that.

“Wanna move this to the room, or do you also want to fuck me against the wall?” you ask him, turning your head so you’re facing him.

His nose brushes against yours. It’s funny, after everything he’s just done to you, that this still gets him to blush.

“R—” He clears his throat. “Room. I’ve got— I’ve got condoms in there.”

He gets up and pulls you back up to your feet with ease, which, damn, you know he lifts, but it’s still impressive. You let yourself fall into his arms, enjoying a nice squeeze of his biceps while you get the chance. You need to get him out of his shirt, you remind yourself, and you immediately get to work on the buttons, tracing his skin with every inch you uncover. Goosebumps form under your nails, and a jerk of his hips when you brush over his nipple reminds you that he has yet to be taken care of.

Aw. You just can’t have that now, can you?

“Hm, I’ve been thinking we could try without that,” you say. Your voice comes out light, but you know that it’s not as nonchalant as you’re trying to make it sound. Chan tenses against you. Clearly, he realizes it as well.

“I mean I— I’d love to, but it’s—” His eyes are wide as he searches yours. You wonder if he thinks that was a throwaway line, something you said just to say something. Surely he knows that’s not the case. You’ve always been adamant about protection.

“I’m on the pill, I’m clean, I’ve gotten tested,” you shrug. “Are you clean?”

“Yeah, I am,” he nods, and it’s adorable how eager he is, “just— when— have you—”

It’s so obvious that he’s trying not to hurt your feelings. He should know that these conversations would never do that. That doesn’t stop a pit from forming in your stomach. What you’ll say next will change things. Maybe not tonight, maybe not tomorrow, but it’s been a long time coming. Maybe since the first time Chan gave in to his desires against his better judgment, maybe since the first time your eyes met.

“It’s all good, I haven’t been with anyone else for a couple months,” you say.

Chan freezes. You can only imagine what’s going on through his mind right now, but you— can’t have that. Not right now. So, of course, you have to defuse the situation. You grab his chin, smile seductively at him.

“Why would I when I have the best right here?”

All you know is that after that, you crash through the door to Chan’s room, and he throws you onto his bed while he practically rips off his shirt and pants. You push yourself up on your elbows, but you don’t have the time to take off your heels or your dress before he’s kneeling between your legs, spreading them open. He’s not playing games anymore, there’s no playfulness in his eyes, just hunger — and maybe the tiniest speck of uncertainty.

So you reach for his face to kiss it away, soft and gentle, and for a second, he melts into you. As you move away, you keep your forehead pressed against his, and he exhales a trembling breath.

Neither of you says a word. The moment passes.

A second later, he plunges into you with one harsh movement of the hips and you fall onto your back with a cry, arching against him. Feeling him for the first time without anything between you is… different, for sure, but it’s a good different, fuck, it’s so perfect that you don't think you’ll be able to go back on that. You have no way of knowing what’s going on in his mind, but you do hear him moan once, loud and without restraint, before he falls into your arms as his hips start moving with an animalistic pace. You grab onto him, nails digging into his back — this is going to leave a mark for sure, but you kind of like the idea, so. Now you regret not having taken off your dress, because you’d love to feel him against you. There isn't much space in your brain for those thoughts though, not when the pleasure is so overwhelming.

You’re still all sensitive from your orgasm, and Chan’s fast thrusts into you only heighten the sensations. Soon, warmth is building up into you again, but Chan’s showing no signs of slowing down. His head’s buried in your neck, his hands clutching the sheets on either side of you. When your legs start shaking with a second orgasm, all you can do is let out desperate moans while he keeps fucking into you.

“You feel so fucking good,” he moans again, which is uncharacteristically vocal of him — and fucking hot, by the way. “So good for me.”

“All for you,” you whimper in response. “Just for you.”

You reach for his face, kiss him, tongue messily intertwining with him.

He comes inside of you without a warning, just with a long, low groan, before collapsing on top of you without even pulling out.

“Shit, sorry,” he mumbles after long, blissful seconds. “Did you not want me to—”

“You’re good,” you interrupt him before he can start freaking out. “Just— Think you can carry me to the bathroom?”

“Of course,” he replies. Then, voice lower, barely above a whisper, “Anything for you.”

You used to have this rule against staying the night after sleeping with a guy. Felt it made them act all territorial, and you liked doing the walk of shame in the middle of the night better than at dawn, if you had to choose. But it’s different with Chan. It’s always been different with him, no matter how hard you try to deny it.

You slip back into the bed after cleaning yourself up, and he wraps himself around you, body slotted together perfectly.

“That my shirt?” he asks as he presses a kiss against your neck.

“And your boxers,” you inform him. “You mind?”

“Nah. It’s kinda hot, that’s all.”

You grin, twisting yourself around so you can get another kiss from him, and he indulges you, not leaving you to wait for even a second. Neither of you adds anything, and you settle yourself comfortably for sleep.

It’s obvious what’s going on between the two of you, what this is all leading up to, even with you not putting words on it just yet.

All in due time, as long as you’re by his side.

Last part of this, and another one where the couple is one I've had in mind for a while lol. I'd headcanon that in the morning, the reader joins the commity that's organizing the festival and is weirdly good at it bc she actually goes to a lot of festivals (she's mostly doing it to ensure that Chan isn't overworked tho). Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the series, if you want to give feedback, reblog or comment, I'd be super grateful, and I'll see you for future works!

Taglist: @lethallyprotected @jisuperboard

[aziraphales-library]

The requests for Christmas fics have started to come in... far, far too late. Remember folks, it takes us months to answer asks and then they're in the queue for a while before publishing.

Luckily this blog is a resource, not simply an ask blog. We already have a #christmas tag you can check for fics we've recommended before!

As a little bonus, here are a few new fics from this year...

City Of Blinding Lights by ShadesOfDeviant (G)

“Well, I sometimes—that is to say—I often considered an early evening walk round the area to see the lights quite the romantic endeavour. Arm in arm under the glow of the fairy lights, I even have a route planned out for should I ever get the chance to go.” “Should you ever get the chance?” Crowley snorts in a way that would be unattractive to almost anyone other than Aziraphale before he folds his newspaper in half and then half again, and casually tosses it onto the coffee table beside him. “You need to be a bit more subtle when you’re aiming for a temptation angel.” He adds with a quick wink before he rolls up onto his feet. AKA: Aziraphale has always wanted to go on a romantic evening walk round London to see all the Christmas lights. Now free of Heaven & Hell and able to openly express his feelings for Crowley, Aziraphale can't think of a better time to implement a plan nearly 40 years in the making.

A Dream Is A Soft Place To Land (may we all be so lucky) by randomramblingsofme (T)

Crowley feels as if the universe won't let him get his feet back under him. He has no plan, is juggling two jobs, coping with chronic pain from an old injury, expertly (so he thinks) hiding a raging crush on the bookseller across the street, and he is currently covered in tree sap. But things could be worse. For example, he could forget all about the Whickber Street Christmas party being hosted by said crush until five minutes beforehand. Oh shit. --- Modern AU, Barista Crowley/Bookseller Aziraphale

Eggnog and Effervescence by RepQueen15 (T)

Crowley turned so as to be able to watch the rest of the movie, and his ear pressed against Aziraphale’s thigh. He felt the angel tremble a little, as though this weren’t just some small service to him either, though that was nothing short of ridicule. Or perhaps…? No. This was just Aziraphale being his perfect, soft self. Though maybe, just maybe, Crowley wasn’t the only one who needed a little more physical contact in his life. *** Crowley and Aziraphale spend a quiet Christmas Eve putting up fairy lights, getting tipsy on eggnog, watching ridiculous Christmas movies and... cuddling.

Here’s a Hand (My Dearest Friend) by perilit (T)

Wherein Crowley allows himself to be comforted in the days leading up to the Christmas holiday, and repays with some comforting of his own.

I’m Dreaming of a Light (and Dark) Christmas by cheeseplants (T)

Aziraphale had begun plotting his revenge a few days after the encounter with the man he had begun to refer to as the demon in his head. Not that he was a vengeful person. He was a good and righteous person who believed it was important to bring light into people's lives. Lights, in fact. Several of them. _______ Two shopkeepers with very different ideas about Christmas battle it out on Whickber Street to create the most extravagant Christmas lights in London. But when the lights go out, they start to find they may have more in common than they first thought. An enemies to lovers human-AU Christmas decorations feud!

If the Fates Allow by catherineland (T)

Crowley makes a shocking discovery: Aziraphale claims to hate Christmas. Crowley’s new mission is to show his angel what he’s been missing.

- Mod D