#I wrote a fic about them on AO3 if you want to read it

[icey--stars]

We'll Keep You Safe

Azriel impulsively offered a home to a young, orphaned Illyrian girl in Windhaven and it was the best decision of all time. (prequel to "After Everything, You're Still Mine" from AzrisWeek2023.

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Day 4 of @azrisweek (Free Day)

a/n: The "slice of life" prompt made me think of the last fic I did for last year’s AzrisWeek: After Everything, You’re Still Mine, but the fic fit more in the "free day" category. In short, I decided to write about Azriel meeting dear Evera, Azriel's and Eris's adopted Illyrian daughter and how she quickly became a part of the family. Also, a little reminder!! Evera is an English name meaning “Brave One” and later gets a nickname of “Evie” pronounced “ehv-ee.”

Also, I almost cried as I wrote this. Take that as you will. (def not my best work, but I love it regardless)

WARNINGS: Illyria’s horribleness, misogyny, mentions of wing clipping, maybe a little child abuse if you squint???

Read below or on ao3 here!

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Azriel was checking on Illyria for Rhys despite wanting to be back at home with Eris, caring and loving their first daughter: Aurora. She was such a wonder that even the tiniest bit away from her felt like she’d grown an inch and Azriel had missed it all. He didn’t want to be like his own father- he wanted to see his little girl grow up more loved than anybody in the entire world.

For now, however, he was sentenced to this hellscape. Illyria always set his nerves on fire and made his skin itch. Maybe it was his memories of the place, but it always felt wrong. An itch under his skin. Right now, he was walking around Windhaven andAzriel truly wished it wasn’t Devlon heading straight for him with a determined look.

“Shadowsinger!” The lord called. Azriel sighed but held his wings high and kept his shadows swirling intimidatingly.

“Yes?” He answered simply, folding his arms over his chest.

“You were supposed to be here an hour ago!” Devlon accused.

Azriel hummed and tilted his head in a fake thought. “Oh, was I? Too bad. What did you need, Devlon?”

“What I need is some damn respect around here!”

Azriel’s facial expression hardened but he remained silent, waiting for Devlon to realize his own mistake. The lord stared at him for a long time, lips curled back like he was a beast of some sort. Even his wings were puffed out a bit. The lord truly was pissed for some odd reason.

Finally, the lord relented against Azriel’s unwavering patience. Eris’s annoying days before they’d declared their love and mate bond prepared him for far worse. “I need the General’s help to manage the females entering the army. We have no damn clue where to put them.”

Azriel’s brows raised a bit. Interesting. “I’ll speak with him,” Azriel stated plainly. “You’ll get an answer soon enough. For now, treat them as you would any soldier. As you should have done in the beginning. Is there anything else?”

Devlon huffed at him for a moment. “The High Lord requested someone to watch one of the training sessions including females. Had you been here an hour ago, you’d have seen it.”

“They train for less than an hour?” Azriel asked incredulously.

“No. They left to work in the mountains. None of the group were clipped, so we sent them to work in the mines for a bit.”

Azriel repressed a shudder. That was the worst bit of training. Worked wonders for his arms and swinging blows with a sword, however. Swinging the pickaxes in the mines helped your balance and swing, especially with the trainers right behind you waiting for you to fuck it up.

“Right,” Azriel said. “Well, I am aware of that location. Don’t worry your head about it, Devlon. Rhys will hear what he needs to.”

Devlon huffed. “Very well, shadowsinger. I expected you to be more punctual, however.”

“I no longer work purely for the Night Court,” Azriel reminded him with a sour tone.

“And what a traitor you are for that,” Devlon accused.

Azriel’s shadows shot forward, forming a gag in the male’s mouth while Azriel used a grin he’d picked up from being around Eris for too long. “I’m no traitor if both High Lords are in agreement, Devlon. Now be on your way before I decide to use the swings I learned from the mines on you.”

The lord glared at him for a moment longer after the shadows retreated, but eventually walked away. Azriel winnowed to the location of the mines, already hearing the sounds of the pickaxes against the salt and coal that was down in the caves. He took a deep breath of fresh air and told himself to make this trip quick.

Once he’d made it far enough, he could see females and males lining the walls with trainers watching them carefully. Each swing was practiced and those cursed to carry the ores and salt they mined looked worse for wear. However, it was likely almost time to switch them out for someone else.

“Shadowsinger,” A trainer acknowledged him.

He didn’t bother to acknowledge him back, simply walking further into the mines. One female tripped and he gently moved forward to correct her stance. Her eyes were terrified.

He gritted his teeth and tried to hide his shadows and pull his wings in tighter. “Stand with your feet further apart,” he stated. “Your swing will be stronger and more balanced. A little more than shoulder width for the weight of the pickaxe.”

She nodded wordlessly and corrected her mistake. Azriel nodded in approvement when she glanced over and continued his journey. 

It was when he saw a punishment being ruled out did he intervene. A female mining salt was being forced to kneel on scraped knees while a trainer issued a punishment: cut into the upper arms and shove salt in. Nothing deep, but it didn’t have to be deep for it to burn. Tears were in her eyes while she held back sobs. Azriel had never seen a male get such a severe punishment. Going by how many cuts were on her arms… this was excessive.

“Stop,” he commanded the trainer.

The quiet command was enough to pull the trainer back and demand, “What?”

“What did she do?” Azriel asked simply, staring at the female kneeling on the ground.

“She tripped,” The trainer answered, carelessly waving around a dagger. “Shoulda stayed on her feet, the bitch.”

Azriel swiped the dagger from the trainer and glared at him. “Would you have given a male the same treatment?” He asked with a lethal tone. Rage pooled in his heart and he could feel a light tug from Eris in question. He tugged back once to assure his mate.

The trainer’s face went pale and Azriel smirked a little, handing back the knife. “Seeing as you’re incapable of handing out correct treatment, what is your name?”

“You don’t-”

“If you don’t tell me your goddamn name, I will pull it from your screams,” Azriel threatened, stepping closer to whisper it in his ear.

“Aaron, sir,” the trainer answered obediently.

“Great. Rhysand and Devlon will hear of your disobedience. In the meantime, I will take her to see a healer for your stupid act,” Azriel said, reaching a hand down to the female. She took it, wings weak as they almost dragged behind her.

Azriel glanced further down the passage and then back at the female, leading them just a little further to talk to her. “I will make sure you see a healer for that. It was completely unneeded. I still have things to check, but if you’d like, you can take one of my shadows and wait for me at the entrance to the cave system.”

She nodded, wiping her tears. Azriel grimaced. “Head up,” he said softly. He whispered for a couple shadows to follow her up and make sure nobody dared question that she was under the protection of anybody but the shadowsinger of the Night Court and Autumn Court.

At the bottom of the cave, however, was a sight that made his heart clench even more than before. The youngest female he’d seen here yet– just a little girl with small wings hanging off of her while she attempted to get enough coordination to swing a pickaxe into some coal.

The trainer wasn’t even bothering with her now, but Azriel could see scars on her arms. Evidence of previous punishments.

He went forward, heart clenching in pity and concern. He saw himself, if anyone. The girl turned to him fearfully, wings spreading behind her. Only the youngest still had that sort of reaction.

“Where are your parents?” He asked, leaning down and putting a hand on the floor, melting his shadows away to try and seem more friendly.

Tears filled her eyes instantly and Azriel could feel Eris yanking on the bond more forcefully. 

“Where do you live?” Azriel breathed.

“No… nowhere,” she answered hesitantly. Azriel could surely see himself now. No parents, no home… forced to work to survive in an effort to become a warrior- anything respected. When you were weak, you either appeased the adults by working for something or became something more. But she was so young.

Azriel gritted his teeth and then impulsively, he said, “Do you want a home?”

She perked up a little, the pickaxe dropping to the floor beside her with a thump. “Yes,” she admitted, her head drooping down.

Azriel smiled a little. “Do you want to come with me, then?”

She nodded and came a bit closer. Azriel stood, offering her a hand. They slowly made their way up the caves. He had to walk a lot slower on account of the little girl’s smaller footsteps, but they made it up eventually. The other female was waiting patiently, trying to get some of the salt out of her wounds.

“Let’s get you both to a healer,” Azriel murmured, offering his other hand to the first female.

She grabbed it and he winnowed them back to Windhaven, in front of the only healer they had. He barged into the building with little care, seeing the healer, a female as well, sitting beside a variety of elixirs and potions.

She jumped and turned to them with her eyes wide and a potion bottle still in her hand. However, the healer quickly turned to set it back down.

Azriel winced a bit at the fear in her eyes. He never tried to be intimidating to the innocents, but he was inherently. His reputation had become too good over the years he’d been alive. “We need a healer,” he stated.

“Of course,” the healer mumbled, patting the bed beside her.

The first female walked over, explaining the salt in her wounds while the little girl stayed with Azriel nervously still holding onto his hands that he refused to let go of until she did.

“What’s your name?” He asked gently, realizing he’d forgotten to ask that one simple question.

“Evera,” she answered.

“Evera…” he said, testing the name on his tongue. “You’re going to like your new home, I promise. I’m Azriel, okay?”

She nodded, tears filling her eyes again. Azriel leaned down gently and scraped away one on her cheek. “It’s okay,” he whispered. “I’m not ever going to make you go down there again. Not for food, water, or anything. You’re free.”

Eris, He whispered down the bond.

Oh, so now you care enough to answer, The snarky mate on the other end of the bond replied.

I’m bringing someone home with me today.

Who?

A little Illyrian girl named Evera. I… I offered her a home.

Eris was silent for a long time and he could feel conflicting emotions on the other side of the bond. Somewhere between guilt, sadness and exhaustion.

I’ll get a room ready, his mate finally responded. Is she alright?

I’m going to have the healer check her out. The females at Windhaven weren’t doing the best.

Evera moved a little once Azriel had stood again, hiding in the cover of his wing and holding onto his hand still while staying close to his leg. Her dark brown hair was messy, but he had a feeling it would be soft once washed. Her face was smudged with coal, but she’d survive. However, her bright green eyes were beautiful.

“Alright, that should hold. Please come back tomorrow so I can make sure,” the healer said to the first female.

Azriel snapped out of his daze. He’d been staring down at Evera while she seemed to wobble a bit beside him.

“You next,” the healer called, looking at Evera.

“I don’t wanna,” Evera mumbled, hiding her face in Azriel’s pant leg. “Don’t make me.”

Azriel’s brows furrowed as he looked down at the cowering little girl. “Evera, she just wants to make sure you’re alright. I do too. Are you hurt anywhere?”

“No,” Evera mumbled. “No healers. Too much work.”

“Evera, you don’t have to work for it this time. I promise,” Azriel said, leaning down again. “You’re coming home with me, remember? I don’t… I don’t live here.”

Evera looked up at him with tears in her eyes and his heart cleaved into two. “Alright, how about we go home then,” he suggested, relenting because the tears she had on her cheeks. “There’s a better healer there anyway.”

He glanced up at the Illyrian female healer. “Thank you,” he said simply before leading Evera out of the building.

“We’re going to winnow again, alright?” He warned, holding onto Evera tightly. “It’s going to be really colorful when we land. I live in the Autumn Court with my mate. He’s really nice. I promise.”

Evera nodded, holding tightly to his pant leg now. “I don’t wanna be hurt.”

Azriel nodded, tears flooding to his own eyes. “I won’t let you,” he promised and winnowed them to the front of the Autumn Court manor.

Eris was waiting there, holding Aurora on his hip. His mate looked down at Evera while she shrank away, but his expression softened and he leaned down. “We’ll keep you safe,” he said simply, glancing at Azriel with a look that said if anything happens to this girl, I’m committing a lot of violence.

Evera nodded, tears running down her face.

“Are you hungry, Evera?” Azriel asked.

She nodded. Aurora also perked up and said, “I’m hungry! I’m hungry daddy!”

Eris grinned. “It’s lunchtime anyway, let’s get inside and get you both some food.”

It wasn’t long before Evera was sitting happily at a table, drawn away from his pant leg only by the delicious scent of Autumn Court syrup and pancakes.

“What happened?” Eris asked as they watched Aurora and Evera eat.

“She was at the bottom of the mines,” Azriel said. “The youngest I’ve ever seen down there. No more than 7 or 8. I was much older when I went in. I couldn’t… I couldn’t let her suffer there. Her parents are dead and that sort of living…” Azriel didn’t finish, only trailing off leaving Eris to imagine the rest of the details.

“Aurora is so…” Eris hesitated. “Chaotic,” he settled on. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

“I hope so,” Azriel said. “Because there’s no way I’m leaving her back there.”

Eris nodded in agreement. “Okay,” his mate agreed. “You know I won’t ever say no.”

Azriel chuckled. “I know,” he agreed. “This one needs our help,” he said simply.

Eris smiled and leaned into Azriel’s shoulder, offering a little kiss.

After, Azriel would inform Rhys of the asshole of the trainer named Aaron, but he tried to make Evera as comfortable as possible first. He helped her work the bath to get clean and made sure a water bottle was on the nightstand as well as extra sets of pillows and blankets to help her be more comfortable in the new environment. He even offered a stuffed bear he’d bought for Aurora who’d ended up not liking it. Apparently, its eyes were ugly. But Evera loved it.

He’d never seen someone hold on so tightly to something like that. Once she was clean and comfortable, he sat in the armchair on the other end of the room and picked out a story once Eris came in with Aurora.

All three of them were out within minutes. He’d chuckled a bit and tucked Evera in gently, and took Aurora from Eris’s arms and putting her in her bed before coming back for his mate. He was successful in not waking up anybody besides Eris when he set his mate on their own mattress.

And for the next few weeks, he did the same. He took care of Evera. Even when she ended up moving to the floor to sleep because the bed was ‘too soft’ or hid away in the bathroom, terrified after accidentally spilling her water glass.

It was hard, he had to admit, but he refused to let Evera suffer as he once had. Azriel had grown to love her as he did Aurora and Eris. They were a family and would continue to be one.

Evera asked one day to learn to read and man, did Eris jump at that opportunity. Apparently, his mate was not as unaffected by the girl as Azriel had seen. Seeing his mate and new daughter bond, however, melted his heart. And when the younger Aurora also joined in to help Evera learn… they’d be sisters forever, he decided. (Evera eventually developed a love of reading because of this.)

When he visited his family, he held Evera in his arms despite her being quite big and gently introduced her to his brothers, the Archerons, and even Amren. Nyx seemed very happy to have another cousin, especially because she was winged.

However, it also occurred to him that day that Evera didn’t know how to fly. Nyx had tried to coax her into the air, but she had refused. Azriel knew about not knowing how to fly. He’d been locked in a dungeon for so long… he knew that feeling.

So, the following day, he stole Cassian and Nesta for the day (also causing them to fall in love with Evera even more) and took Evera to the same lake he taught Feyre to fly. Evera was a fast learner, but the feeling of taking her up into the sky in his arms, telling her to spread her wings was unparalleled. She didn’t fly that day on her own, as she needed wing strength, but Azriel could feel the joy radiating off of her. She must’ve had someone fly her to the mines that day… but she was safe now.

Evera also took to calling Cassian and Nesta Uncle and Auntie which probably broke Azriel the most. Eris had to almost pinch his wing to make him snap out of his daze.

In short, Azriel had decided that adopting Evera had been one of the best ideas he’d ever had.

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TAGLIST HERE! - see post for specifics <3

Tagged in all ACOTAR Stories: @bunnymallowo, @officiallyunofficialperson, @margssstuff, @rebloggiest-reblogger, @inpraizeof, @graciereads, @eos-princess, @bubybubsters, @fieldofdaisiies, @skyesayshi

Tagged in all Azriel Stories: @ladylokilaufeyson5, @marina468,

#azrisweek2024 #acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar fanfic #azriel #eris vanserra #eris acotar #azris #mywriting #azriel x eris #azris fanfiction

[burninface]

🥞Weekly tag Wednesday Friday🥧

thank you @vintagelacerosette @creepkinginc @doshiart @lingy910y @deedala @blue-disco-lights for tagging me!! Love you all<3 cheers🥂!

how did you get into the fandom?

it's a long story: after finished the show and read a few fics, I found myself had so many thoughts about them, and wanted to create something. so at first I started to translate fics, then I wrote something in my language but no one was interested. then I started to edit, and at the same time I started to practice drawing. I wanted to share some of my things but had no idea where to post, then I remembered my long abandoned tumblr account. I was so unsure and panicking at first, then I found ppl here are so kind and inspiring and creative!!

what’s the first fandom channel you found? (youtube, reddit, tumblr, insta, twitter, FB, other?)

a local bbs for english fandoms, got some fic translations and old discussion posts on it

what’s your favourite now?

tumblr of course

which mutual have you known the longest in the fandom?

I think it's calli (don't want to disturb her now, so I'll tag her when she's back), we haven't talked much but I really want to say thank you to her, it was her reblogs and feedbacks helped me overcome my extreme lack of confidence from the beginning🥹

which tumblerinos did you have your first fandom crush(es) on and wanted to get to know?

again it's calli! also ling and nosho made me feel welcomed🥰 pie @gallapiech for all her talented arts about video games au gallavich, sarah @atthedugouts for all her lovely thoughts on milkoviche siblings dynamics!

and all my other muatuals, every time I saw that purple Mutuals, my heartbeat's just rated up😫💓

first gallavich fan fic you read (or that blew you away that you remember)?

it's the translation version of Favours Owed by MintSauce, and then i went to ao3 to find her other works and met my first blew-me-away The Halfway House (at that time I hadn't finished the show, I was on season 4~5 and thought it's ok to read fics wrote before)

and after I finished the show, it's when the party's over by emryses

first fan art that blew your mind?

I'm not sure… I only remember the first time I clicked in gallavich tags, all the art works blew my mind!! like one after another, kept blowing... artists all your works are sooo good!!

fanfic trope that you were sure wasn’t for you but now you low key (or high key) love?

fluffy and domestic husbands!

what surprised you most about this fandom?

everyone is just so kind! and with high creative enthusiasm! it really gives me courage to speak and to make friends. (which hadn't happened even once in last 2 years. I had been afraid of interact with others for years, so it's very important for me, really🥹, can't thank you all enough)

moment in the show (or YT vids if you’re one of those) that you fell in hyperfixation with gallavich?

ok, it might sound unhealthy but, every moment they (physically) fight with each other. not when only one side attack the other, but fighting mutually……

ian or mickey?

……can I choose or and take it away with me, then there's no others between them? 👀

which gallagher or milkovich are you?

sandy... and liam(s11)

since I'm already laaate so no tagging this time!

#tag game

[fuukonomiko]

Winner Takes it All

The question is what the prize is. "Loser gives the winner a kiss." "Wait....how is that fair?"

BLUE EYE SAMURAI FAN ART BY ME Mizu and Taigen engage in some arm rasslin' I'm nowhere near good BUT I have lots of love for this series

@blue-eye-samurai

#blue eye samurai #mizu #taigen #mizu x taigen #please let me know if its okay to tag #if not i can always fix #Blue Eye Samurai #Mizu #I love her so much #Taigen #I love him too #MIzu x Taigen #aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa #I wrote a fic about them on AO3 if you want to read it

[lover-of-mine]

Inspired by when the hardest part is over by throughfire on AO3

The hallway light catches on the sharp lines of Buck’s features, now, highlighting half of his face and making the unshed tears along his lash lines shine. He has curled a hand – seemingly reflexively – around Eddie’s wrist as though to stop him, and now they’re caught in the doorway as though they’re framed by it, painting the scene of a breathless, halted aftermath that neither of them knows how to navigate. A mess to be hung in a museum somewhere for other people to analyze to pieces.

The slightly shorter one is in love, they’ll say. The taller one has no idea.

#911edit #buddieedit #911 #buddie #otp: you don't need to pretend with me #911 fic #my edit #i legit have been thinking about this fic for DAYS #i tried to find the author around here so i could tag them but i couldn't find them #if you see this and you know who wrote it please send them my way so i could tag them if they want #ive read this fic like 7 times already #this line and this other one #like it changed me #i love it so so so so much i had to do this #is this weird? #i hope its not weird #i dont know the protocol on doing things inspired by fics lol #eddiediazedit #evanbuckleyedit #flashing tw #i even look up what font ao3 uses for this one #very fun to make #fic edits #evan buckley #eddie diaz

[imaginethathaikyuu]

I’m sorry but I have so many people ask for SPECIFICALLY MALEs/o and all you say is there is no need for pronouns but you do female. Bffr

what

#i dont know what ur referencing. i dont think ive ever said there is no need for pronouns. #if someone ever requested male reader then i wrote male reader. #if they requested fem reader thats what i wrote. #if they requested gender neutral thats what i wrote. #REGARDLESS i dont even write requests anymore. so this ask is genuinely useless to me. #maybe other writers would be open to this critisim! #but i am not because i dont take requests! #there are a lot of writers out there. u can always use ao3 to more easily find m/m relationships. #and if you cant find the stories you want to read then write them yourself instead of barking in my ask box. #i dont write stories for other people anymore. my blog hasnt been that for a long time now #all my fics are literally about me and an anime boy. they are literal self instert i am insterting Myself. #and i am fem! so i write fem! #so. there u go. #anyway im assuming u thought u were making Points but u simply didnt make a single one #obviously i understand ur frustration for there not being a lot of m reader but im just not going to be the writer to solve that issue #like 2019 em could have pumped out as many fics as you wanted but not em now. like you missed the deadline #if u want more of it then just write it urself. like thats the solution ur looking for. #instead of getting angry at other ppl for not doing it for u

[ms-softgoods]

.

#the parasocial (idk if it's the right word) you have with the author of a beloved fic you read more than a decade ago #started reading/rereading fanfics from my old fandoms #and i've been trying to do my best to leave reviews this time #and there's this one author who wrote possibly one of my favorite fics ever #and it's a wip #i don't want to believe it's abandoned bc it's so precious to me #and the author said (albeit almost a decade ago) that they plan on finishing it even if it takes them george r r martin lengths of time to #finish the fic #and i think about this fic often #and so this time as i was writing a review it felt like writing to and reminiscing with an old friend that you haven't talked to in a while #im not sure if the author still checks the email associated with their ao3 account but hopefully they know just how loved their fic is #anyway i am so fucking thankful for fanfics and fanworks and fan communities #i love you guys so much you are all so talented and wonderful and amazing i hope you all know that

[paganinpurple]

AO3 Etiquette -UPDATED

Based on both decent and not so decent replies, I have made some changes to my original post below.

It would seem a whole new kind of AO3 reader/writer is emerging and it is becoming clear not everyone quite understands how the website community works. Here is some basic guidance on how most people expect you to go about using AO3 to keep this a fun community archive that funtions correctly:

As well as likes, kudos is for when the story was interesting enough to make you finish reading. If it sucked or was badly written, you probably left. If you finished it, you liked it - so kudos.

If you really liked it, you should try to comment. It can be long and detailed or a literal keysmash. Writers don't care, we just love comments.

No critisism unless the author has specifically asked or agreed to hear it (so use your notes to say if you want some constructive feedback). Even constructive critisism is a no-no unless an author note tells you it's okay. No, posting it online is not an open invitation for that. Many people write as a fun hobby or a way to cope with, among other things, insecurity and just want to share. Don't ruin that for them. I've seen so many authors just stop writing coz they can't handle the negative emotions the critism brings, and it's only meant to be a fun thing shared for free (pointing out tagging errors is not included in this).

Do not comment to ask the author to write/update something else. It's tacky and off-putting and will probably have the opposite effect than the one you want.

There is no algorithm, it's an archive. Use the search and filter function to add/remove the pairings/characters/tropes etc. you want to read about and it will find you the fics that fit the bill.

For this to work, writers must tag and rate stories. This avoids readers finding the wrong things and missing the stuff they want. I don't care how cringy that trope is in your eyes - it gets tagged.

The tag exception is if you don't want to tag a million things or spoil your story, you can rate it as "chose not to use warnings," and maybe tag the bare minimum.

Don't censor tags. How can someone exclude a tag if the word isn't typed out correctly? There are no content bans for terms so don't censor them.

If the tags are mostly content/trigger warnings, especially if they are things considered very fucked up or graphic, you might want to use "dead dove - do not eat" to ensure people know that you're not messing around with tags and what they get is exactly what you've warned them about.

Character A/Character B means a ROMANTIC or SEXUAL relationship of some kind. Character A&Character B is PLATONIC, like friendship or family.

Nothing is banned. This is an rule because banning one thing is a slipperly slope to banning another and another, until nothing is allowed anymore. Do not expect anyone to censor for you. Because of the tags system, you are responsible for your own reading experience.

People can create new chapters and sequels/fic series any time after they "complete" a story. So it's considered perfectly normal to subscribe, even to a finished story. You can even subscribe to the author instead just to cover your bases.

Do not repost stories or change the publishing date without an extremely good reason (like a complete top to bottom rewrite or an exchange youve written for going public). It's an archive, not social media. No one cares what's the most recent, only what fits their tag needs.

Instead of deleting a story you wrote if you hate it - consider making it anonymous or orphaning it so others can still enjoy it, without it being connected to your name anymore. If you still want to delete it, fair enough.

It's come to my attention that metaworks ARE allowed on AO3, which is something I wasn't aware of. So if you do post an essay or theory, please tag it as such so others can choose to search for it or exclude it. Art is also allowed.

The only reason this archive works is because NON ONE PROFITS. Do not link to your ko-fi or patreon or mention monetary gain in any way or you violate the terms and risk having your account removed. If anyone does link, it leaves the archive open to people claiming it's for profit and having the whole thing removed.

I KNOW there's plenty more I missed but I'm trying to cover most of the basics that people seem to be struggling with.

I invite anyone to add to this, but please explain, don't berate.

#ao3 #using ao3 #archive of our own #fanfiction #fanworks

[thisiswhereikeepdcthings]

how crazy do you think the AO3 authours notes are in gotham?

"Joker killed my grandma with a reindeer whilst playing 'grandma got run over by a reindeer' and i don't think i can continue to write this JokerBat fic anymore guys sorry :/ it just feels disrespectful."

“Look, I get if Batman/Clark Kent isn’t your cup of tea, but the guy writes more about Batman than anyone else outside of Gotham. There’s got to be a reason, is all I’m saying.”

“And here I am, jumping on the Batman/Bruce Wayne train like the rest of our beloved hellhole. Anyway, if you’re not from Gotham you can keep your criticisms to yourself or I will not be held responsible for the bloodshed that will occur should you insult our beloved sunshine child and his goth sugar baby. You don’t know them like we do.”

“Hey, sorry I haven’t updated in awhile. I died and then got caught up in this whole my-father-didn’t-avenge-me angst thing. Which was completely justified in my opinion. Anyway…”

“Let’s be honest, this entire series is dedicated to the fact that Red Hood could crush any of us with his thighs and we’d say thank you.”

“I just read a fic shipping Nightwing/Superman and I mean, come on. The author is clearly not from Gotham but I can never unsee that and I think I should be entitled to financial compensation.”

“Sorry it’s been awhile, I just got a new job! With the Best Boss™️ (if you know, you know). Also, my boss said he’d give a hundred bucks if I wrote a Batman bashing fic? Thoughts? Ngl I don’t think it’d even be that hard.”

“‘WHy aRE yoU WriTIng ABouT FakE SupERheROes WHen THe rEAl oNEs aRE riGHt tHEre?’ Uh, because it’s Gotham and they’re all a disaster? And also because I don’t want to be haunted by the venegeful spirits of robins past idk. Thinking of doing a crossover though. Batman in the Avengers? Thoughts?”

“I just want my husband Nightwing to be happy, is that too much to ask?”

“I came across Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy on my way home from school today and will now be hyperfixating on that ship, thanks.”

“Leave me and my 235k word fic of Prince!Bruce/Knight!Batman alone you Metropolis and Superman-loving traitors. This is not for you.”

#gotham #ao3 in gotham #batman #bruce wayne #superman #red hood #nightwing

[reiderwriter]

Hating You Is The Easiest Thing I Can Do

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Summary: When your boss pulls your case out from under you and gives it right to the BAU, you're pissed. You're even more pissed when Doctor Spencer Reid suggests you can't do your job properly. After a week in his company, you decide to give him a piece of your mind

Warnings: Day One of Kinktober - Hate Sex, enemies to lovers, dom/sub, Mean!Dom!Spencer, Brat!Reader, spanking, degradation, spanking, spit kink, sir kink, vaginal fingering, slight creampie, Reader's boss is an asshole, typical office misogyny. Spencer is also an asshole, but that's just because he's a dumbass.

A/N: Special thank you to @reidmotif and @mrs-dr-reid for proofreading this one for me! I wrote this when on a major Pride and Prejudice moment, which is why there's a whole lot of plot before the sex. I hope you like the build-up just as much as the smut! <3 If you like it, don't forget to leave a like, reply, or reblog and tell me your thoughts! ((just as a reminder, apart for Sundays and Tuesdays, I'll be posting all the kinktober fics on AO3 exclusively, so check out my writing there - reiderwriter))

My requests are also back open now, so if you like my writing and have an idea, check out my request guidelines and drop me a message in my inbox! You can find the rest of my masterlist here :)

To say you were angry was an understatement. You were seething, the anger bubbling up inside of you and threatening to lash out at anyone who so much as crossed your path as you made your way down the crappy motel corridor. You'd only known Spencer Reid a week, but you could think of no one you despised more.

The FBI had always been a boys' club, you knew that. There were some goddamn strong women in your field office, of course, but you were outnumbered 10 to 1. Which was why you were so determined to do well on the first case assigned to you as lead Agent. The first week of the case, you'd made sure you were thorough. A body had been found in the park by a jogger, and you darted to the crime scene the moment you got the call. A woman in her early twenties, like you, had been raped, tortured, and then dumped here, her body posed in a demeaning way to make it seem as if she were performing a sexual act. Your entire body shuddered at the sight, but you couldn't let your coworkers see you weak so you powered through. Collecting evidence, getting an ID on the victim, interviewing potential witnesses, and yes, even breaking the news to the poor girl's family, you had been so attentive to every detail of the case and you felt you were making progress, your boss delivered a humbling blow.

"Another body has been discovered. I've invited the Behavioural Analysis Unit in from Quantico because you're in over your head." He'd told you, not even looking up at you from the file he was reading on his desk.

"What? I wasn't told about another body, why wasn't I notified?"

"I didn't think you needed to know, now that the BAU is coming in."

"So I'm off the case? That's it?"

"No, I want you to assist them in their investigation. Tell them everything you've gathered so far, get them situated in the office as best you can."

"Get them coffee when they want it? Rub their feet if they ask for it? This is bullshit, I was making progress, if you'd only have given me more time-"

"Agent, I suggest you walk out of this office right now and get your PMSing under control before I have to suspend you from fieldwork." You pressed your nails further into the beds on your palms then and bit back your tongue from replying, simply giving a terse nod and exiting the office.

It wasn't even an hour later before the new team arrived, and you offered a tense smile and welcome as you got them set up in their own office. The Unit Chief didn't seem too bad, but Aaron Hotchner couldn't exactly be described as the most welcoming of people, and you felt an instant camaraderie with JJ, the other agent who'd come into the office with him. There were more agents apparently, but they'd gone out into the field to check out the new victim and reinterview the family, something you weren't exactly happy about. But, if you were going to be their little bitch for the next week, you were at least thankful they were tolerable and polite.

"So here's everything I've got so far. I've been pretty thorough in my interrogations of potential witnesses, and there are no CCTV cameras in the general vicinity of the dump sites, so I don't think you'll find anything else there that'll aid in your profile."

" If you'd have been thorough you'd have found this though, right?" A new voice popped up from the door, and you felt yourself tense up under the sudden accusation. Looking up you saw he was holding up his phone, a picture of a strange marking on a tree lighting up the screen.

"Excuse me?"

"This was left on a tree roughly thirty feet from the first dump site. I called Rossi and Morgan and they found a similar marking near the second victim. It's a Mesopotamian symbol relating to the worship of prostitutes and sex workers to promote fertility." He spoke plainly, but all you could hear was the condescension in his tone, and your blood boiled with rage.

" Agent Y/L/N, I'm sorry about him, this is Doctor Spencer Reid, he's another member of our team." JJ introduced the man, sending him a warning glance, as if letting him know that he hadn't just put his foot in his mouth directly.

You looked at the man then, really focusing on him now instead of the pictures, and almost cursed out loud again. He was a jerk, but fuck was he attractive. Tousled hair, dark eyes, and a perfectly sculpted jaw, it was as if he were sent from hell directly to piss you off and tempt you. You pushed the attraction aside for the minute then, choosing to be the bigger person and introduce yourself.

"I'm Agent Y/N Y/L/N. And I'm sorry that I'm not an expert on Mesopotamian prostitutes, but I guess that's probably your specialty, right, Doctor?" You held out your hand for him to shake, but he just looked down at it.

"If you're referring to my doctorate, I actually didn't study classic civilizations. I hold PhDs in Math, Chemistry, and Engineering and additional BAs in Psychology, Philosophy, and Sociology. And I don't do handshakes." He glanced straight past you after that, walking back over to Hotch and filling him in on other things you must've overlooked during your brief time working the case.

You glared at his back, finally letting your hand drop to your side again as you let out an angry chuckle.

"Don't take it personally, Spencer is just… He’s He's not great with people. He'll warm up to you." JJ put a reassuring arm on your shoulder and you nodded. But inside you knew there was not one thing the man could do to reverse the bad opinion of him you'd just gained.

–X–

After the initial anger of having the case seeped out from beneath you wore off, you actually began enjoying your time with the BAU. You hadn't put much thought into profiling before, it usually being so far off your radar while you were working in the field office but you were actually coming to enjoy how they worked, and you'd learned a lot.

Your relationship with Spencer, however, only degraded.

Your hatred had reignited the moment you'd been joined by the rest of the BAU Team. Your boss has finally come down to greet them, and, almost as if making you pay for your earlier comments, had genuinely sent you on a coffee run for them. You could deal with the fact that the man had the most annoyingly complicated coffee order you'd ever heard of in the Bureau, but what you couldn't forgive were the sly comments you walked in on when you returned.

"Come on, Reid. That Agent is easy on the eyes, you should talk to her, get you a slice of that." You'd been introduced to Derek Morgan earlier and you'd instantly pegged him as a flirt, so this wasn't exactly shocking to you. What was a bit surprising was the other man's reply.

"If she's attractive I hadn't noticed. I've been too busy trying to clear up her mess with this case."

You walked in the door then, coffees in hand, and slammed his drink down on the table for him. You handed Morgan to him, double-checking that you'd got both of their orders right before shooting another glare at the man and walking away to find the rest of the team.

But not before hearing Morgan chastise Reid in another whisper: "God man, you gotta be nicer to the kid…"

To say that your working relationship had soured totally after your two personal encounters with the man was simply an untruth. You didn't have a working relationship, you had a working rivalry.

From then on, you'd slyly interrupt the man when he was speaking, telling him to cut his genius rambles in half, that you didn't have all day to sit around and wait for him to stutter his way through his theory while there was a murderer on the loose.

He didn't hold back either, constantly asking you questions he knew you didn't know the answers to, just to smile slyly down at you and make you admit that you weren't as good as him. It was getting so detrimental to the office atmosphere that you had to be genuinely separated after only three days, Hotchner bringing you into the field with him on multiple occasions and forcing Reid to stay behind with JJ to work on a geographical profile.

You'd been with Hotchner at a family interview, working with him to gain details of the second victim's actions and whereabouts leading up to her murder to establish a timeline when you got a call.

Excusing yourself from the room, you quickly picked up the call.

"This is Agent Y/L/N."

"Hotch isn't picking up his phone." That was all the explanation you got from the man on the other side of the phone, his voice instantly grating.

"Yes, I'd assume he isn't, Doctor Reid, because we are currently interviewing a bereaved mother and father and he put his phone on silent. Is there something you need?"

"I need to talk to Hotch."

"Well, you called me. What do you need?" You heard him breathe out a frustrated sigh on the other side of the line, and you rolled your eyes, slightly enjoying being this stubborn and getting under his skin.

"Just tell him we're ready to give the profile, okay?" He hung on you after that and you cursed him down the line, receiving nothing back but the empty beeps of the dial tone.

–X–

It didn't take long after delivering the profile to get your guy, but as he hadn't been in the middle of committing any felonies when you picked him up, you'd had to spend a few days in the interrogation rooms.

Hotch had taken a crack at him and gotten nowhere, and so had Rossi and Emily and Morgan. JJ had been the one to make the arrest, so she went in last and still came out with nothing much. He hadn't layered up yet, as they'd suspected he wouldn't, too egotistical to allow anyone else into the room that he thought he was going to talk himself out of.

"We're getting nowhere with this, Hotch. I think I have an idea that could get him to start talking." Reid said as you all stared at the man through the one-way glass.

"What, you think you can charge in there and get him to talk?" It was petty, but it'd been a stressful week, and he was used to this flow of conversation between the two of you.

"No, you are. Hotch, she fits his type, she's attractive, same build and coloring as the previous two victims. I think it'd work." You scoffed at his suggestion.

"Oh so now you think I'm attractive? I thought you hadn't noticed because you were, what, too busy cleaning up my mess?" You crossed your arms as he gave you an incredulous look, and you realized that he didn't think you'd heard him.

"Spencer's right, Y/N." Hotch nodded, looking between the two of you to see if he needed to pull you apart to keep you from fighting or to keep you from jumping each other. You personally weren't sure which you'd like most at that point, cursing yourself as you let your eyes trail down his body.

"It's going to excite him having you so close, you should pop a few of those buttons, too," Reid suggested looking down at your chest as you scoffed and crossed your arms.

"Oh you'd really like that," you mumbled under your breath, but a swift look from Hotch had you shutting your mouth again as he began to brief you.

Going in you felt a surge of pettiness seep through you. You were going to nail this guy, get him to talk about every little nasty thing he did to those girls, and prove to your boss that you could do this when every member of the BAU had tried and failed. But a small, dim, and annoying reminder at the back of your head whispered in your ear that you'd be pleasing Spencer then as well. Proving him right. You weren't sure if you wanted to succeed to hear him or your boss say "good job" to you after you finally succeeded, but when you imagined it with him, he was a whole lot closer, right in your ear, body pressed against yours.

You focused on your anger over your attraction and pushed into the room, ready to stare down a monster and escape unharmed.

–X–

It had worked, of course. It had taken a few hours of building rapport but you'd done it. You'd had him eating out the palm of your hand while he confessed to the three murders you knew about and an extra four that you didn't.

A day of retrieving bodies later and by 10 pm, the case was finally closed.

"Well done, kid, you really got him in that interview. That was some great work." Morgan nudged your elbow as he grabbed his duffle, exiting the makeshift office.

"Don't forget we're getting drinks at the cocktail bar in half an hour. Shower off that mud and change into a hot dress, Agent, and I'll buy you your first shot." Emily called back to you from the exit too, leaving you in a fit of giggles as you promised her you would.

Once they'd all gone, you started packing up your things ready to leave yourself when there was another knock at the door.

" Hey, I need to grab my bag." Reid stood in the door awkwardly, and your smile dropped into a politely neutral face as you nodded to him.

"Don't let me stop you, Doc."

"Spencer."He said, stepping a bit closer to you.

"What?"

"I want you to call me Spencer. You keep calling me Doctor or Doc, I want you to call me Spencer."

"No. Doctor Reid is just fine for me."

"And what if I want more?" He grabbed your wrist as you turned to go, using a bit too much force and leaving you stumbling into him, hitting his chest as you looked up at him, your noses almost touching with the proximity.

"Let me go," you growled, but his grip loosened and you didn't move an inch.

"What if I want more?" He asked again, a little more insistent this time, his eyes dark in the dim room, expression unreadable.

"Why should I care what you want, Doctor Reid?"

"Because I think you want it, too. Because I think that despite all the odds, you want me just as much as I want you."

Your anger burst out of you in a sarcastic laugh then at his presumptuous words.

"Despite all the odds? What odds are those Spencer? You treat me like shit, ignoring me, refusing to even shake my hand, and downplaying the hard fucking work I put in before you got here? God, you are so fucking narcissistic." You finally stepped away from him then, turning away to regain your composure.

"Me? I'm not the one who missed some vital fucking evidence in a murder investigation, Y/N, so I'm sorry I wasn't the most welcoming person, but God if we're talking egos, you should probably check yourself."

"Forget it, you're impossible. I really tried to be nice to you, but more fool me for making messes you had to clean up."

"Are you still stuck on that? Y/N, I'm sorry, but Derek just has a way of-" He stepped closer to you again and you could feel the oxygen being sucked from your lungs.

"Don't you dare blame this on Morgan. You're attracted to me and you fucking despise that, and it's none of Morgan’s fault. Now please, just get out of this fucking office and go back to your motel room." You practically hissed those last words at him, holding back the urge to scream in frustration. Your lips were so close now, as his chest heaved, hands clenched by his sides as he resisted the urge to grab you.

"Forgive me… for suggesting something so obviously repulsive to you." With that, he brushed past you and walked out, leaving you reeling at his almost confession, head light from the lack of air. He'd taken your breath with him as he left the room.

–X–

The promise of free shots had convinced you to get back out to the bar as promised, not letting Reid and his fickle moods control when and where you'd be enjoying yourself.

You finally showed up at the bar and were greeted by hugs from JJ and Emily, already one drink in as they immediately handed you a shot from the bar. Guiding you back to the table, you paused as you saw him there.

Morgan was sat at the table, happily chatting away with Reid, who'd since grown quiet, eyes meeting yours before leaving to rake down your frame. You resisted the urge to cover yourself, confidently standing tall as he devoured you with his eyes. Changing out of your work clothes, you'd decided that you needed some fun tonight, donning a short red dress, barely hitting the tops of your thighs, hugging your curves tightly, and pushing your chest up so it nearly spilled out completely. You'd completed the look with thigh-high black boots and a red lip, looking the absolute image of lust - or anger - personified.

"Whew mama, you look good, Y/N." Morgan greeted you, standing up to give you a kiss on the cheek. Reid still said nothing but kept his eyes trained on you as he took another sip of his drink.

"I was promised shots and dancing, I think I'm dressed pretty appropriately don't you think?" You smiled and giggled up at Morgan, letting your touch linger on him a little longer to see if it would spur Reid into action.

"Have I ever told you about my very good friend Penelope Garcia? I think you two would get along just fine."

The rest of the night continued in a similar vein. You'd stepped out onto the dance floor with Emily and JJ, letting whatever man wanted to sidle up close, begging one of them to be a distraction from the man whose eyes were boring into you from the other side of the room. It didn't work. Their hands were on your hips, guiding you to the sound of the music but in your head, all you saw was him, doing the same.

It didn't help that he was getting hit on constantly from his perch beside Morgan, and you watched with a bitter feeling at the bottom of your stomach as women tried, unsuccessfully, to get him to pay attention to them. After another frustrating invitation for a tryst with a local man, you excused yourself from the dance floor, finding Morgan in the bar, letting him know that you were calling it a night.

"Where's Reid?" You asked, trying and failing to sound casual as you glanced around the now crowded bar for signs of him.

"He left like ten minutes ago. Said he was tired and went back to the motel."

"Was he…" You didn't want to finish the question, not knowing which answer you'd prefer, but Morgan filled in the gaps himself with a wide grin.

"Alone? Yes, kid. Here, it's the address of the motel we're staying at and his room number." You hesitated before grabbing the paper and grabbing your stuff, practically running from the bar and hopping in the nearest taxi.

–X–

That's how you found yourself stomping down the corridor of the motel, pounding on his door at 1 a.m., unashamed in your brazen actions. He opened the door, slightly shocked to see you there, and you pushed your way inside and turned on him as you shut the door.

"What the fuck was all of that?" You demanded as soon as he turned back to you. His shirt was open now, jacket and tie discarded on the floor somewhere deeper into the room, but you forced yourself to look up into his eyes, away from the pale plains of his skin.

"What was what, Y/N?"

"You, staring at me like that the whole night and then just leaving."

"Did you want me to stay?"

"I want you to stop answering my questions with questions, Reid. This is bullshit, you can't act like a dick to me all week and then look at me like I'm a piece of meat you want to rip apart, for fucks sake."

"You made it very clear earlier tonight that you wanted no part of this, Y/N. Are you saying I should've done something else?"

"That's another fucking question, Spencer! If you don't start actually talking to me, I swear to god, I'll-" You ran a hand through your hair, and when you looked up again, he was closer than ever. You backed up into the wall, but he followed you, pressing a leg between your own. Slowly and with that condescending grin plastered across his face, he drawled out his next words.

"You'll what?"

Your lips crashed against his with the fury of your frustrations, a mess of teeth and tongue and biting anger as you surged forward into him.

With a rough push of your hips, he slammed you back into the wall, taking charge of the situation, coaxing his tongue into your mouth, battling you for control, and winning. Grabbing you by the neck he slowly pulled his lips away from yours, leaving you gasping for breath.

"Don't be such a brat, Y/N. When I ask you questions, it's because I want answers." You moaned as you tried to regain his lips, but he chuckled and kept you pinned.

"Tell me, baby, what should I have done earlier instead? Got down on my knees to beg your forgiveness, or thrown you over that desk and used you like a cheap little whore? I think I know which one you prefer."

You moaned at his words, but kept your mouth twisted in a grimace, choosing not to answer. He got tired of waiting, and, with a swiftness you didn't know he possessed, twisted you around so your hands were planted against the wall, your chest pushing against it too as he pulled your hips up and out, effectively baring your pantie-clad pussy to him as your dress pushed up and over your ass all by itself.

"So fucking slutty. You let all those men in that club touch you while you stared at me the entire time." He ran his hands across your ass massaging you underneath your underwear before pulling his hands away again and grabbing your hips. He pushed his clothed cock against you from behind and you moaned at how hard and big he felt already.

"Was this what you wanted, brat?"

"Go fuck yourself."

"I think you'd much prefer it if I fucked you, don't you think?" He turned you around again, lifting one of your legs up to wrap around him, the new angle pressing your core further into his cock.

"Open your mouth, now." Against your better judgment, your body reacted to him quickly, your tongue dropping out of your mouth as he ground his cock into your core, effectively dry-humping you. With a swift motion, he spat in your mouth, your eyes going wide as you instinctively shut your mouth and swallowed.

"Good girl," he stroked your hair, lifting you up and carrying you to the bed. His lips locked with yours as you tasted his spit on your lips, letting him take control and move you in any way he pleased.

"But you've been a brat," he said pulling away. "And brats need to be punished."

With that he forced you over his knee, pulling your panties down as he positioned your hips higher, your ass raised. He fisted one hand into your hair and began softly stroking your ass with the other.

"You're going to count for me, baby. If you lose count, we'll start again. With each number, I'll tell you what you did wrong, okay?"

"Fuck, yes, yes sir." With another soft touch, he pulled his hand up and bought it back again down sharply, letting it cup your ass as you hissed from the sting.

"O-One."

"That was for being a brat in the office. Being so confident you missed some vital evidence that was staring you right in the face."

He did it again, and you squirmed under his touch.

"Two."

"That was for teasing me in front of Hotch. Making me get hard right there in the office before you went to interrogate that creep."

"That made you hard?" You gasped out as he cracked out another slap to your ass. "Three."

"That was for talking. You need to stop fucking talking." He stroked your ass again, delivering a fourth, fifth, and sixth blow in quick succession as you felt yourself leak your arousal all over his lap.

"That was for dressing like a little whore tonight. That was for flirting with Morgan. That was for letting another man touch you. What do you have to say for yourself now, brat?" Your breaths stuttered out of you as you tried to compose yourself, confident that he'd finished your punishment now.

"G-Go…. FuckFuck yourself." He growled and threw you back on the bed, ripping your dress off over your head and letting his lips return to yours as he trailed his hand to between your legs, finally pushing two fingers inside of you as you moaned and writhed beneath him.

" I hate you," you moaned in his ear as his lips trailed down to your breasts.

"You have a funny way of showing it." Your orgasm was rapidly approaching, so close you could practically taste it. He sensed it as well, though, and pulled his fingers out of you before you could reach that bliss.

"You thought it would be that easy, brat?" he whispered in your ear with a low chuckle before flipping you over to your front and thrusting his fingers back into you from behind, causing another moan to rip from your throat, uncontrollably loud in the otherwise silence of the motel at night.

Unzipping his pants and freeing his cock, you felt the weight of it on your ass as he rubbed his precum against your now bright red asscheeks.

"You're going to look so pretty with my cum decorating your ass baby. It's going to make your ass feel better, too."

"You're disgusting," you spit at him, but your hips push harder into his dick, trying desperately to capture him inside of you and force him to use you.

"No more talking, bitch. Take my fingers." He pushed a hand into your mouth and you started twirling your tongue around them, using your distraction to finally violently thrust his dick all the way inside you. You screamed at the sudden filling, cumming around his cock in an instant, trying to milk him for all he was worth. But he clamped a hand down over your mouth so that all that fell from your face was escaped tears and muffled pleas for more.

"Gonna use you like this baby, gonna make you admit you love me."

His thrusts gained a steady pace as your brain emptied beneath him, desperate for more of the pleasure his body was supplying you with. He released your mouth then, content that all your energy seemed to be spent on pushing your ass back into his, listening to the wet, sloppy sounds of your activity.

"Do you like that, brat? You like me making you feel like this, huh?" He slapped your ass again as he thrust, and you moaned back with a nod.

"Yes, Spencer, don't stop… Don't stop." You moaned again, another orgasm rolling over your body, causing you to clench unconsciously around his cock.

"So good baby, you're responding so well to my cock." He trailed a hand underneath you to your clit and started rubbing it in time to his thrusts.

"One more for me. One more and I'll pull out, okay? Just one more."

"I can't, Spencer I can't do it.." You whined underneath him, face fully buried in the motel pillows. You were surprised he even heard you through the tears as the material.

"Yes you can, baby, look you're so close already, just do one more."

"I hate you," you moaned again, feeling your third and final orgasm wash over you, your eyes rolling back in your head as your body started twitching and didn't stop. You felt a small twitch from him too, as he finished thrusting inside of you, letting a little bit of his cum escape into you before pulling out and decorating your ass with his ejaculation.

He fell by the side of you and gasped desperately for a few minutes, before grabbing a hot wet towel from the bathroom and cleaning your ass off.

"Spencer…" you croak out eventually, regaining some clarity, but still not moving much from your spot in his bed.

"Spencer, I don't hate you."

"I know. I don't hate you either. Which is probably for the best."

"What? Why?"

"Hotch just requested your transfer to the Quantico Office so you could start training with the BAU. You did a good job this week, Y/N." Your eyes started watering again and you gently pushed away tears as he laughed at you, asking why you were crying.

"I'm not happy," you joked.

"I just realized that means I have to work with you more." You both laughed at that. You didn't hate each other exactly, but that didn't mean you could work together well either.

And you didn't want to if this was the outcome of your bickering and hatred.

#kinktober 2023 #spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #mgg #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid kinktober #criminal minds kinktober #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x oc #hate sex #enemies to lovers

[5ummit]

So there's this post with a troubling number of notes going around insisting that "dead dove" is not a genre, it doesn't inherently have anything to do with darkfic, and that the tag could be applied to fics that are "100% fluffy where everyone's having a good time" if they happen to contain some abnormal (though entirely non-problematic) content like an unusual kink. The claim is that "dead dove: do not eat" is simply a "courtesy tag" that means "this is a very specific niche, mind the tags." And that's just... wrong.

I wrote up a whole rebuttal to this post since I can't stand misinformation and frankly OP was being kinda rude and judgey on top of their wrongness. But right after I posted my reply, OP turned off reblogs because, and I quote, “some fuckwad added some dumb shit onto this post and it is no longer educational” (the “fuckwad” being me and the “dumb shit” being proof that they were wrong). A couple people have asked me to make a rebloggable version of my response, which I've decided to do because this isn't the first time I've heard similar claims and I want to help set the record straight. However, I'm not linking the original post on the off chance this gains traction because OP did the right thing by turning off reblogs, preventing it from circulating further, and I don't want them to get hate for being unfortunately misinformed.

For those who don't know the history, "dead dove: do not eat" was originally proposed as a catchall "hydra trash party" alternative label for any fandom to warn that the content of a fic may be considered problematic or potentially upsetting and to read the tags carefully so you know what you're getting into and won't complain later. Specifically, DD:DNE was intended to convey that the Bad Things in the fic would likely be reveled in and not explicitly condemned by the narrative, which some people tend to get up in arms about, hence the need for the extra warning in addition to the tags. Don't believe me? Here's the original proposal (note DD:DNE can be found on a handful of fics dated before 2015 but this is when it really took off and became a Thing).

There are currently around 50,000 fics tagged as "dead dove: do not eat" on AO3 and close to 50% of those also include the rape/noncon warning (which of course is not the only type of "dead dove" but is one of the most popular and most consistently tagged). The normal percentage of noncon fics in any given fandom? Around 1-3%. That's a HUGE disparity. So don't tell me that dead dove is just a general "courtesy tag" and doesn't or shouldn't have dark connotations. Even the context of the original joke on Arrested Development has a dark undertone. Micheal Bluth casually finds an animal carcass in a bag in his refrigerator with the label "do not eat", as if eating it would be any sane person's first thought. The whole situation is kinda fucked up. And this fucked up vibe very much carries over into fandom usage too, as was intended.

The claim that dead dove has nothing to do with the content's genre and could just as easily be used to describe a 100% fluffy fic in which everyone's having a good time is straight up Wrong, or at the very least, severely warping the original meaning. Also, when someone these days says that they like/dislike "dead dove" most people in fandom automatically understand what that means because of the consistency of its usage over the years and the way language evolves. Whether you like it or not, "dead dove" IS a genre now and the term does carry a specific connotation. I do agree that DD:DNE should definitely still be used in conjunction with other tags, when applicable, to be explicit about the exact type of fucked up content you may find, but to say that the term is meaningless on its own is patently false and I'm tired of people who don't know what they're talking about pushing this narrative and causing even more confusion.

You want a generic term that also means "mind the tags" and doesn't have any inherently dark connotations? Just use good ol' "what it says on the tin" instead of trying to force dead dove to be something it's not.

#fyi I've tweaked my response slightly to remove specific references to OP and make it read better on its own #I hope I don't regret making this post and inviting The Discourse #but dead dove is a topic that is very near and dear to me #I feel like someone has got to say something and put a stop to all of the misinformation around it these days #fandom #long post #my words #psa #wendy's help desk

[steveseddie]

of movie nights and holding hands

rating: t | cw: none apply | word count: 1,841

tags: eddie munson lives, eddie munson has a crush on steve harrington, holding hands, getting together, first kiss

for the @steddielovemonth prompt “love is asking ‘do you want a blanket?’” by @thefreakandthehair

a/n: i liked this prompt so much that i wrote two fics for it! enjoy!

click here to read on ao3

***

Eddie tries hard to focus on the movie.

It shouldn’t be that hard since Top Gun is supposed to be a good movie. Tonight was the first time since movie nights at the Harrington residence became a thing that an argument didn’t break out amongst the group when they had to choose what to watch. Everyone just agreed. And even if the movie didn’t turn out to be good, Eddie would never waste the opportunity to ogle Tom Cruise for an hour and fifty minutes.

Except he is because, for the last thirty-two minutes, Eddie’s focus has been solely on Steve.

This isn’t the first time they sit next to each other during movie nights. More and more lately, they tend to gravitate toward the other whenever they hang out, and Eddie loves this as much as he hates it.

He loves being close to Steve, being able to whisper to him or touch him, or lean against him. But he hates how it makes him feel. How it makes his palms sweat or goosebumps appear on his skin. He hates it because he can’t let Steve know. Steve might’ve been cool about Eddie being gay and he’s cool with Eddie being touchy and loud and basically too much, but Eddie doesn’t think he’ll be cool with him having a huge hopeless crush on him.

(He probably would, though, because Steve is a good guy, the best guy Eddie knows, and he would let Eddie down easy and make sure nothing changes between them, but Eddie would still feel rejected and they might still end up drifting apart because he can’t handle that.

And Eddie would rather go against another army of Demobats than lose Steve.)

So Eddie tries hard to pay attention to the movie and be normal about the fact that Steve is basically sitting on top of him tonight.

They didn’t start the night like that. At first, it was just Steve, Eddie, and Robin on the couch with plenty of space to sit comfortably. But then Max and Lucas got into an argument- a childish quarrel really- that will probably be forgotten by the end of the night, but still she demanded that they open a spot for her on the couch since she didn’t want to sit with Lucas and the others on the floor anymore. To do that, Steve had to move closer to Eddie, pushing him against the arm of the couch and trapping him between it and his body. Max sits cross-legged next to him which leaves Steve with little to no room for his legs, so one of his thighs overlaps with Eddie’s, same with their arms. And of course, Eddie, who always dresses in multiple layers, decided to only wear a shirt and his battle vest tonight, meaning that his bare arm is touching Steve’s and every time he so much as wiggles trying to get comfortable, a shudder runs through Eddie’s spine.

He thinks Steve is too focused on the movie to notice, but halfway through it, he feels Steve shift closer (and how does he keep getting even closer?) and whisper right into Eddie’s, making the hairs on his neck stand up. “Do you want a blanket, Eds?”

“What?” Eddie asks. It comes out as a squeak. So much for acting normal.

“You keep shivering. Are you cold? Do you want a blanket?”

The thing is Eddie isn’t cold. Eddie feels warm all over actually, but he can’t tell Steve that the reason why he keeps shuddering or why he’s getting goosebumps is him.

So he says, “Uh, yeah. I could use a blanket.”

He expects Steve to get up so he can get it or to tell Eddie where to find one. Instead, he lifts the blanket that he placed across his lap when the movie started and drapes it across Eddie’s body too, shifting even closer to him.

“Better?” Steve asks with a sweet smile. Bless his clueless heart.

Eddie wants to scream “No, it’s not!” but instead, he just gives him a shaky smile that he hopes looks genuine and nods. Then he shoves his hands under the blanket so he can anxiously play with his rings without Steve noticing, feeling restless and jumpy at having Steve so close. After a moment, he sees Steve do the same out of the corner of his eye. Maybe his hands are cold.

Steve stays still after that, and Eddie can somewhat focus on the movie.

That is until he feels Steve’s pinkie finger brush against his under the blanket.

When it does, Eddie yelps, his leg jerking and kicking Lucas who sits on the floor right in front of him. He feels Steve withdraw his hand like he got burned.

“Dude!” Lucas protests.

“Sorry, Sinclair, uh. Muscle spasm,” Eddie mutters. The other kids give him weird looks but thankfully they go back to the movie.

Whispering so he doesn’t bother the others, Steve says, “Uh, sorry. It was- uh, it was an accident.”

“All good, Steve-o.”

Steve gives him a tight-lipped smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, and Eddie gets the feeling that he’s lying, but then it would mean that his hand touching Eddie’s wasn’t an accident, but a deliberate move.

But why?

Glancing at him out of the corner of his eye, he notices that Steve looks nervous. He’s biting his bottom lip and there’s a divot between his eyebrows, his cheeks are also tinted bright pink.

So Eddie thinks, fuck it! and moves his hand under the blanket, hooking his pinkie finger with Steve’s.

Steve’s reaction is definitely more subdued than Eddie’s was, but Eddie still hears him gasp. He glances at Eddie, big doe eyes wide and a little hopeful, and Eddie feels like throwing up because holy shit, Steve Harrington was, in fact, deliberately trying to touch his hands and now their pinkies are linked. If it weren’t for the fact that the blanket offers them the cover that they need to do this, Eddie would toss it away. He feels like could burst into flames any minute.

Soon, it’s not just their pinkies touching. Soon, the tip of Steve’s remaining fingers find Eddie’s. He waits for a second, probably to see if Eddie is gonna jump again, but when he doesn’t, Steve tangles their fingers together and gives Eddie’s hand a little squeeze. And Eddie wants to scream, he wants to melt into the couch, he wants to kiss Steve, the kids and Robin be damned.

He doesn’t. He stays still except for his thumb which starts rhythmically stroking over Steve’s knuckles. Eddie hears his breath catch and sees his blush spreading up to his ears. At least he’s not the only one affected by this.

Neither of them is paying attention to the movie at this point, too focused on playing with each other’s hands and biting down on their dopey smiles.

Eddie doesn’t want it to end. He doesn’t want this bubble that they created under this blanket to burst. He’s afraid Steve won’t want to hold Eddie’s hand ever again if it does.

But eventually, the movie does end. The end credits start to roll and the kids spring to their feet, stretching and talking excitedly about the movie. Eddie hopes they don’t ask him anything about it, he couldn’t tell them the names of three characters if he tried.

“Did you like it?” Steve asks quietly.

“The- movie?”

Steve’s eyes crinkle at the corners. “I think we both know you didn’t pay attention to the movie, Eds.”

Eddie feels the blood that rushes to his cheeks at being called out. “Well, I was distracted,” he murmurs, thumb flicking over Steve’s knuckle one more time just to see Steve’s eyes widen a little and his lips part.

“Yeah? By what?” He asks, his voice sounding a little strained to Eddie’s ears.

“A pretty boy holding my hand.”

Steve whines low in his throat. Eddie is glad that the kids are being loud and that they’re focused on each other instead of them.

He continues, “Which I liked. A lot. And uh- I would like to do it again.”

“Me too,” Steve says with a shy smile. God, Eddie wants to kiss him stupid.

“Eddie!”

He jumps when Max calls his name. He and Steve both let go of each other’s hand at the same time, but keep them under the blanket.

“What?”

Max’s eyes roll to the back of her head. “The movie is over? We have to leave now if we want to make it home before curfew.”

“Oh. Sure thing, Mad Max.”

She narrows her eyes at him and Eddie tries to look innocent, not like he spent the last eighty minutes holding another boy’s hand. He’s not so sure that he nails it.

Together, they quickly gather the blankets and the pillows and stuff them into the hallway closet. With Nancy skipping tonight’s movie night and Robin still having no license, it’s up to Eddie to drop everyone off, and unless they leave right now, they’re gonna be late like Max said.

That doesn’t stop Eddie from running back to the house after everyone already piled up inside the van, claiming that he forgot something.

After he knocks on the door, Steve opens it with a confused frown that melts into a smile when he sees Eddie.

“Did you forget something, Munson?”

“I did actually,” Eddie says and for the second time that night, he thinks fuck it! and surges forward, pushing his lips against Steve’s in a quick kiss.

Steve yelps, but Eddie feels the softest press of lips from him before he backs away.

Before Eddie can spiral because oh, god he just kissed Steve, Steve is grabbing him by the lapels of his vest and pulling him toward him. They both stumble back into the house a couple of steps, just enough so they’re hidden from view and Steve can kiss Eddie for longer and a little more forcefully this time.

“Do you want to come over tomorrow?” Steve asks when they pull apart.

“To watch a movie?” He asks. Steve licks his lips and Eddie’s eyes track the movement. “Or not watch a movie?”

Steve smirks. “The second one.”

Eddie nods enthusiastically. “It’s a date,” he says with a grin that Steve mirrors.

They jump when the horn of his van blares, probably waking up a few of Steve’s neighbors.

Eddie makes a face. “Gotta go or the brats are gonna be late.”

“Drive safe,” Steve says, giving the vest a little tug.

“Always do, Stevie,” he says, giving him a two-fingered salute. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah. See you tomorrow, Eds,” Steve says with a dopey smile. Eddie starts walking backwards.

And if he trips on the steps because he’s too busy watching Steve and almost falls on his ass, then at least it’s just Steve who sees it.

And at least, he does it with a sweet smile painted on his puffy pink lips that Eddie just kissed.

#steddielovemonth #day 25 #two fics for the same prompt hehe i just love these two so much #steddie #stranger things #stranger things fic #steve harrington #eddie munson

[lowkeyrobin]

MCYT ; they have a very obvious crush on you

includes ; tommyinnit, ranboo, badlinu, & quackity

warnings ; language

y/s/n = your ship name

masterlist

TOMMYINNIT

constantly donates / talks through tts when you're streaming alone

TommyInnit donated $10!

"Tommy, stop giving me money, just use TTS"

only uses tts when you tell him to each and every time, it's routine

if he's streaming when you compliment him, chat always points out his red face to both of you

"shut up chat! I'm not blushing. you guys suck"

after a while he gets invested in the shipping

"if I open wattpad and don't see three new y/s/n fics I'm gonna lose my shit, guys"

"Tommy, Tommy, check ao3"

"I found one and it actually looks good!"

reading fanfics on stream (with permission of course and being light on the jokes and whatnot)

you and Tommy make your own fanfic too

he gets your friends to read it on their streams too 💀💀💀

literally every bit he writes is something he wants to do with you

such a hopeless romantic

RANBOO

always doing you favors

never saying no to you

"yes sir/maam!"

always donos on your streams while speed running or playing horror games to tell you good luck

it rlly isn't a stream wo one of their donos istg

chat always asking where he is during one of said streams

editors go CRAZY with the misfits vlogs & tom simons vlogs with you two in them

the chemistry???

you react to / watch each sorry boys episode on stream when they come out

editors go crazy with your compliments to ranboo

they do too 😭😭

giggling and kicking their feet cause they're so funny to you

he's literally head over heels bruh

gives u free merch and stuff

FREDDIE BADLINU

he's usually nice/full of compliments but he's so extra with you

claims it's for the bit

lets you dye his hair

ylyl streams with him constantly LMAO

he wrote your name on his bi flag for some reason??? when you ask about it he just says "why not?" and you shrug it off

always helping you pick out clothes and shit when thrifting/shopping

always has to find a pair of sunglasses for you I swear

constantly asks his viewers to edit you guys

it's become a part of your relationship where he clearly has a crush on you but you can't tell if it's for the bit or if he's serious so you never say anything

the tom simons vlogs w you guys go hard

especially the ylyl irl with ran, tommy, charlie, james, and billzo

same with the ylyl american version w jack, tommy, james, harry, etc

editors and fanfic writers have field days with those

just straight up making out as "friends" for the bit????

even Tommy is confused and he's been supporting Freddie through the dumb shit he's been doing

supports the fanfics

he honestly reads them

if you catch him doing so he says he's just interested and he might read it on stream for funnies

QUACKITY

"accidently" sends you free merch nearly every drop

qsmp streams are never complete without you guys flirting or going on a date

basically old karlnapity but you guys on the qsmp

qsmp y/s/n streams go so hard, they're literally the best

cellbit, roier, and jaiden officiating your fake wedding

qsmp y/s/n edits and fanart went crazy

youre like "guys no fanfics or edits of y/s/n, only if hes comfortable with it, I don't want you guys to weird him out"

and hes begging people to make the fanfics, the fanart, the everything

daily tweets of "guys send me more y/s/n fanart" or "any good y/s/n fanfic recommendations??"

cellbit always replies to those tweets with some long ass dictionary ass response to fuck with you two

fitmc of all people makes you guys a little tumblr oneshot.

#lowkeyrobin #mcyt preferences #tommyinnit x reader #mcyt x reader #quackity x reader #ranboo x reader #badlinu x reader #mcyt oneshot #tommyinnit #qsmp #osmp

[ao3commentoftheday]

i've usually been in fandoms where the series (or movie, whatever media) has been over for a while, but my current fandom is still ongoing. i'm nervous about writing fanfic for this fandom, since the canon isn't "solid" yet. good characters could turn out terrible, scenes can change entire perceptions and perspectives, stuff like that makes me nervous about writing fic. i don't want to villainize a character that turns out to get a redemption arc, i don't want to write a ship fic about a ship i might end up hating later. idk if i'm explaining this right. essentially, writing fic about a fandom with an ongoing canon makes me nervous, but i want to write for this fandom. what do i do?

Remember that posting a work to AO3 comes with a built in date stamp. It'll be clear to anyone reading the story a year from now or two years from now that you wrote it at a certain point in canon.

If you enjoy writing canon compliant fics, you can even add a tag like "post-ep for s02e04" or "missing moment from s01e12" or whatever it might be. You could provide that content in an author's note or your summary instead, if you prefer.

A lot of fic is written while canon is still up in the air and people are used to things changing. If you write for a ship you end up hating, you can always delete the fic later or orphan it if you want folks to still have access to it but remove your own name. You can villainize a character in one story and proclaim them heroic in another. Unless you put your work into a series, there's no need for every story you write to follow on from each other. Each one can be an independent world all on its own.

And that raises another point: write AUs. You don't have to stick to canon compliant works if that stresses you out. An AU can be as simple as "everything is the same, but these characters met before canon started" and as complex as "these people are now aliens living on a different planet".

Will there be people who point out canon inconsistencies when they read your fic years later? Sure. It's happened to me. But at the same time, they were reading my fic years later. That's a compliment in and of itself.

What do the rest of you think? Have you had to deal with these worries before? How did you manage it?

#asks and answers

[fuukonomiko]

Did I just say Fuuko mun is writing again? Fuck yeaaaah. Blue Eye Samurai smut Little if any plot but "here we are"

And chapter two if you care to read on :)

CHAPTER 3 IS UP WITH ACTUAL FILTH THIS TIME. Their sexy journey is almost over :)

CHAPTER 4 WITH 80% MORE DIRTY CONTENT THAN THE LAST.

I HAVE SOME SILLY HEADCANONS FOR THEM

ART OF THEM ARM WRESTLING MY FIRST ATTEMPT AT DRAWING TAIGEN

Side characters Captain Anzai and First Mate Nagi

CHAPTER 5 IS UP AFTER MUCH BLOOD, SWEAT AND TEARS!!!!

Chapter 6 of the godfreaking neverending saga is up. So help me Mizu.

WHY? WHY IS THERE A CHAPTER 7? IS IT EVER GOING TO END? NOT TODAY!!!!!!

Chapter 8 is an accumulation of deleted scenes. I'm still writing the actual chapter. Meanwhile, gnaw your teeth on these. Thank you for your patience and patronage!

#blue eye samurai #mizu blue eye samurai #taigen #mizu x taigen #smut #glorious smut #Blue Eye Samurai #Mizu #I love her so much #Taigen #I love him too #MIzu x Taigen #aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa #I wrote a fic about them on AO3 if you want to read it

[turtletaubwrites]

Numbers Game ~ Part 1

Thank you @discordantwritings for this request! I've been so excited to write some Cross Guild shenanigans, I hope you enjoy it! Also, this will be part 1 because I did turn it into a whole ass thing, lol. Just a miniseries, I swear!

Pairings: Cross Guild x Fem!Reader (Eventual smut, but not this chapter. Reader is in a relationship with Buggy first, then meets the others in this chapter.)

Word Count: 2863

Ao3 Link

Summary: You left your stable/boring life as an investment banker to have some adventure. Unfortunately, that sweet Warlord of the Sea didn't follow your financial advice, and now you and your clown are at the mercy of his biggest lender and his new business partner.

Rating/Warnings: Eventual Smut, 18+, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Alcohol, Swearing, Angst, Established Relationship, Canon Typical Violence, Manipulation, mention/brief threat of slavery, Humiliation, Blood and Violence, Pet names, Power Imbalance, Crocodile is a villain

A/N: The reader starts out with Buggy, so Crocodile and Mihawk will be enemies to the reader at first. Crocodile in particular is a VILLAIN toward the reader at first, threatening violence and there's a mention of paying off debts by selling Buggy and reader into slavery, as he threatened in the anime. Please do not read this if toxic, threatening relationships are triggering for you. Dynamics will shift after the initial chapters, but he's still a villain and I wrote him that way in this fic. It's very much dark romance style/bad guys need love too/Mafia boss type vibe.

Fuck, my sister was right. 

“Hurry it up, Y/N, it’s time to go!”

“But, Captain Buggy,” you matched his near frantic whisper, “Your crew are calling for you. Don’t you need to give them orders?”

“Fine, fine! Just keep packing!”

You barely heard the commands and lies that he spewed from the balcony, your hands shaking as your mistakes blared through your mind.

You’d been so bored. You had a good, stable life. You were great at your job. You’d started at a bank, and soon you were managing investments for wealthy clients who didn’t want to do their own work to stay wealthy.

You were so good with numbers. So good at helping your clients make smart, safe choices.

Yet here you were, about to get killed by the fucking Navy because you’d wanted a little adventure.

The screams started getting louder, and you heard what had to be explosions, luckily not close by. Yet. 

Kat told me this clown would get me killed.

Tears burned in your eyes as you pictured your sister’s face, pinched with worry and shock.

“He works for the government now! I’m going to help run his organization, I’ll handle the finances, and his mercenaries will help the Navy out.”

���Are you fucking insane? He’s a Warlord! Not some Navy officer,” Kat almost yelled, face red as she leaned toward you.

“I… He’s different, okay. He’s really sweet,” you mumbled, looking down as your fingers twisted in your lap.

“Oh my fucking gods, Y/N, did you fuck that clown? What has gotten into you?”

You didn’t know what you were grabbing and packing, tears streaming freely now.

“Captain! The warships around the island are getting attacked!”

“Who’s helping us,” Buggy screamed, and the confusion and hope in his voice made you drop everything.

Racing to the balcony, you were just in time to watch two Navy warships go down in flames.

Desperate hope filled you now, and you reached for his hand.

He pulled away as news of who your savior was came closer, shouts of triumph sending chills through you, freezing Buggy in place.

“It’s Crocodile! He really does work for Chairman Buggy! We’re saved!”

Crocodile. Crocodile!

All those berries, drained away with Buggy’s antics. All those berries that you were technically supposed to be in charge of. 

All of it was Crocodile’s.

“Buggy, Buggy, please. Where can we hide?”

He turned at your hoarse whisper, his mouth hanging wide in shock.

“Buggy!”

“We don’t have the money to pay him. He’s gonna kill me!”

His strained voice grated your nerves as you pulled on his hand, dragging him away from the balcony, and the adoring eyes of his henchmen.

He was near babbling as you pulled him along, searching for anywhere to hide. 

A frustrated sob left your throat as you remembered what you’d been feeling recently, even with his idiotic spending, and refusal to listen to your words of reason.

I thought I was falling for him.

But the sight of him falling apart now, not only failing to protect you, but even himself, was making you regret every single moment.

Your heart felt raw, burning more with each yank on his hand, especially since his hand was only connected to that fucking pouch he likes to wear.

Then that hand was torn away from yours, Buggy’s yelp making you jump. 

Buggy went flying over your head, sliding down the hallway with a grunt. 

Before you could turn around, you were encased in someone's shadow. You shook as you felt the heat of a body, inches from you. The first thing you saw was the glinting gold of a massive hook, then you had to crane your neck. 

Towering above you was a man in lavish clothes, a purple vest with an orange scarf, and a fur coat. He seemed to be ignoring you, his cigar dangerously close to dropping ash onto your hair.

You felt like prey, like a rabbit. Shivering in fear, just waiting for the wolf to walk away or devour you.

“I know you,” he directed at Buggy, his deep voice rumbling through you. “I thought you’d try to flee without paying me back.”

I’m so close to him. How can he tell I’m so weak? If I had a weapon I could try to hurt him.

As if he could read your thoughts, Crocodile looked down at you, tapping his cigar off to the side before the ashes fell. 

“I don’t know you.”

Your mouth gaped open as you stared into his cold, scarred face.

“Well, you see, Crocodile,” Buggy started bullshitting, moving closer. “Buggy’s Delivery Service may look like it’s doing well, but we’ve, uh… We’ve lost a lot of our big earners, and…”

Buggy trailed on, spouting excuses that made you want to scream at him, until you felt his hand grip the back of your shirt. 

He slowly pulled you backward, away from Crocodile. New tears fell as your pathetic clown tried to shift his body in front of yours, shielding you.

He was too late.

The sting of cold metal wrapped around your neck as Crocodile’s hook captured you, like the prey you were.

He yanked you up, until your toes were barely scraping along the ground as he looked you over.

“If you can’t pay, clown, we can sell you into slavery. I wonder how much your woman is worth.”

“Come on, Crocodile,” Buggy drawled, inching closer again. “Don’t say such horrible things! We broke out of Impel Down together, didn’t we?”

“I lent you money for that sake,” he countered calmly, before looming over Buggy with even more danger edging his voice. “But if you can’t pay, you’ll have to take full responsibility.”

“Responsibility,” Buggy choked out, eyes flicking to you when you gasped from Crocodile's movements.

“I’m gonna found a new company, so I need money now.”

You could see the frantic wheels spinning in Buggy’s head before he puffed himself up, making his body look huge as he spread his limbs out in the red fabric.

“Then, let me help you with that business! This former Warlord of the Sea will serve under you. I’ll work off my debt! We have great resources!”

You brought your hands up to hold onto the hook as Crocodile lifted you even higher. You couldn’t tell if he was doing it on purpose, or if he had just forgotten that he was holding you there. You watched Buggy try to sell the plan, try to save you both. 

“We have advertising design, printing, transportation, and the finest financial adviser on the seas.”

Buggy emphasized the last with jazz hands shaking wildly in your direction, and you cringed.

Crocodile hummed, setting you on the ground in front of him, but still tugging on your neck with that cold metal as he looked you over. You let out a breath when he released your neck, but then the sharp point of the hook traced teasingly on your cheek, stopping your breath entirely.

“W-Wait, come on, Croc. We’re pals! You don’t need to–”

“If you’re in charge of the finances,” Crocodile breathed down on you, ignoring Buggy’s pleas, “then it’s your fault that all my money is gone, isn’t it?”

You started to shake your head, but the cold prick of metal held you frozen.

“No, it wasn’t her fault,” Buggy almost yelled, voice missing its chummy tone now. “Please, we didn’t– I didn’t follow her advice. Tell him baby, you’ve got all those plans you made, right? The investments?”

Your eyes clenched shut, a wave of tears cascading down as he defended you.

“Is that true, girl? Did you try to keep this idiot from wasting all my money?”

His breath was hot on your face as he leaned over you. Your lip quivered as you waited for him to open his jaws, and swallow you whole.

“Tell me.”

“I… I created a plan to manage those funds, using much of them to invest and create reciprocal income for the organization.”

His eyes burned into you, silently demanding more.

“Unfortunately, I was not able to go forward with those plans,” you said weakly, eyes looking down, seeking freedom from his glare.

“I wonder why that could be, hmm?” 

He brought his hand to your face now, huge fingers gripping your chin to force your eyes back to his.

“Tell me why all of my money is gone. You are the financial advisor, aren’t you? Should I bleed the berries out of you?”

“No, I’m sorry,” you stuttered, eyes fluttering down again until his grip on your face became painful.

“It’s okay, baby,” you heard whispered behind you.

“Ca-Captain Buggy did not follow the financial plans that I laid out for him, or my recommendations to adjust spending when funds became low.”

Crocodile’s lip twitched up, and he released you, making you stumble.

He reached for Buggy, hitting him again until he slid across the floor.

“No, please!”

“Why are you crying for this potato sack? He nearly got you killed.”

The menacing man sighed as you failed to speak, then grabbed Buggy by the hair.

“Don’t worry, we’re not killing him yet. Go get your paperwork, I wanna see if you really are a numbers girl.”

Shame flooded you as you nodded, doing nothing as Buggy was dragged away like trash. 

There’s nothing I can do. Numbers, money, that’s all I’m good at. 

Taking a deep breath, you reminded yourself that you are really good at that. And maybe that skill could help you get out of here alive. 

Maybe I can help Buggy after all. 

~ 

That sliver of hope vanished when you walked through the door, your briefcase in hand.

Off to the side you saw Buggy’s officers, eating and laughing happily, as if nothing had happened. 

As if their Captain’s head wasn’t dangling from Crocodile's hand, bruised and bloodied while that hook kept shoving against his skin.

Crocodile was seated on the plush, green couch, using Buggy’s limp body as a foot rest. He held Buggy’s head over the middle of the couch, between him and another man.

The other man’s cold, amber eyes felt like blades through your skin as you froze in the doorway. You recognized him, though you’d hoped you’d never meet the swordsman in person.

Dracule Mihawk. What the fuck has my life turned into?

Buggy coughed, spitting out a piece of paper. That stupid fucking flyer his men had made. 

They hadn’t even waited for approval before spending the money on printing and distributing it. You’d wanted to strangle every fucking dumbass that touched it when you saw the bill.

“The word ‘humiliation’ isn’t enough to express how I feel,” Crocodile growled, as Buggy apologized for the Cross Guild poster, showing Buggy as their leader. 

“As much as I’d like to kill him,” Mihawk mused, his voice filled with calm disdain, “it’s not a bad idea to have him as our figurehead. I would rather live peacefully than become an Emperor of the Sea.”

He stood gracefully, heading to the counter to pour himself a glass of wine. He turned to look back, his head tilted like an animal watching for prey.

“Let him take the heat, and we can get rid of him whenever we want.”

“You’re right,” Crocodile laughed, shoving his hook into Buggy’s mouth.

You let out a choked gasp, grateful that they weren't going to kill him now, but feeling the looming threat that the future held.

And there were Galdino, Alvida, and even Mohji and Cabaji, ignoring his pain, laughing and stuffing their faces. Their betrayal made you ache for Buggy.

Until you remembered the danger you were still in. 

I’m betraying him too. I’m going to work for these men. I’m going to stay alive.

“Who is this,” Mihawk drawled as he took his seat again.

“Uh, I–”

“This might be our numbers girl. If she proves herself,” Crocodile threatened, dropping Buggy’s head onto the floor behind the couch, before patting the cushion beside him. 

“Come here, girl. Show us how useful you can be.”

With wide eyes, you walked toward them, avoiding stepping on Buggy’s body as you sat between the two terrifying men. 

Crocodile’s arm rested on the back of the couch behind you, so you sat slightly forward, avoiding his touch. 

Mihawk tilted toward you, and you found yourself staring at the beautifully embroidered details of his black and gold coat, avoiding looking at his bare chest and abs between the rich fabric.

He cleared his throat, making you jolt, before bringing your shaky fingers to unlatch the briefcase. You struggled, gasping when Mihawk reached over your lap to open it for you.

“Gods, Galdino, will you bring this girl a drink," Crocodile huffed, and you could feel his eyes on you. "Where the fuck did the clown pick up such a skittish little thing, huh?”

You focused on your paperwork, pulling out some of the plans you’d initially brought to help manage the funding Crocodile had provided. 

Mihawk took them gingerly from your hands as Galdino passed you a glass of wine. You were sure that he must be pissed at being ordered to serve you like a waiter.

You chugged the whole glass of wine, closing your eyes while Crocodile chuckled, and Mihawk reviewed your work. 

“It’s well done,” he praised, handing it to his partner. “These skills will be helpful with getting this operation running.”

“As long as the idiots in charge actually listen, of course” Crocodile joked, flipping through the pages. 

He tossed the papers aside, motioning for Galdino to fill your glass again.

“Sorry about all of that in the hallway. You work for us now.”

“Okay,” you breathed out, barely audible.

The back of his hook touched your face, the smooth metal guiding you to look at him.

He studied you for a moment, and your brain tried to make sense of him, of what was happening. His black hair was slicked back, a few stray strands falling over his forehead. The long scar across the middle of his face made your brain hurt. You couldn’t imagine what kind of wound that must have been.

His deep set eyes were judging you, and you fought every instinct to hold his gaze instead of running. 

Finally, he let out a low laugh.

“When I find something of value, I protect it. Do your job well, and you’ll be taken care of. Better than with this clown, that’s for sure.��

You winced as his foot dug into Buggy’s body, eliciting a moan from the man who’d brought you here. 

Chewing the inside of your lip, you sipped on your second drink as they discussed plans to announce the lie that Buggy really is the leader. 

They don’t need me here. I’ll just go to my room.

Each time you almost stood, or asked to be excused, your brain went blank. You just sat there, between these two ex Warlords, these two men who radiated power. The night went on, until all of Buggy’s betrayers trickled out.

“Wait.”

Crocodile’s deep voice commanded as you stood to follow Alvida and Galdino out, desperate to not be alone with these men. But here you were.

“What’s your name? Unless you want us to call you Numbers Girl.”

You settled on the couch, still sitting away from the back to keep from leaning against Crocodile’s arm.

“It’s Y/N.”

“I am curious, Y/N,” Mihawk spoke up, swirling his wine in its glass. “How such an intelligent and attractive woman ended up with this pathetic clown.”

“Please, leave her alone,” Buggy’s weak voice creaked up from behind the couch.

“It’s just curiosity,” Mihawk continued, and you couldn’t help meeting his golden gaze, his large hat tilting down toward you.

“Come, Y/N,” Crocodile joined in, “I could use a laugh. How did you end up with Buggy?”

“We… We met at a bar.”

They stared, and your skin practically crawled at the pressure for more.

“I’m an– I was an investment banker. I was having a drink after work, and overheard Buggy discussing his new organization. I offered my services.”

You shifted your head slightly to look back and forth at them, and their confused faces almost made you laugh. Almost.

“Why,” Crocodile asked, his deep voice almost dangerous as he demanded an explanation. Mihawk just cleared his throat, and took another sip. 

You wanted to comfort Buggy. To remind him that you’d been drawn to him. That he was funny, and sweet, and that your time together that night was what made you want to join him. 

But you knew the real reason you chose to go with Buggy, and you knew they’d only punish you both if you talked about being with him. So you told the truth.

“I was bored.”

It felt like the air around you shifted. The weight of their stares, and the sound of their low laughter made your skin flush with heat.

They both leaned forward, surrounding you as they brought their glasses to tap against yours.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” Crocodile’s husky voice rumbled beside you. “You won’t be bored with us.”

Likes and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you so much!

a/n: I hope you enjoyed this first chapter! It hurt beating up my Buggy boy like this, but I made it through, lol

Part 2

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[slut4thebroken]

Jason’s Dirty Secret

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Dark pervert!Jason Todd × innocent Batgirl!reader

Summary | When Jason gives in to his urges, they only get worse.

Warnings | Sexual content, 18+, lowkey misogynistic!Jason lol, non con pic taking, non con groping, non con oral, non con use of sleep meds, non con come eating, non con recording, everything in this in non consensual, cause she is unaware lol, adopted siblings, but like... he doesn't think of her that way and neither does she.

Words | 2k

Notes | I don’t even know man. I think I blacked out when I wrote this

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

Other innocent!reader fics

He doesn’t know how it happened. But all of a sudden it just quickly grew into a weekly routine, then a daily routine. Sometimes you would go out on patrol on days that he stayed home. So he used that time to go into your room. 

It started out simple, looking through your underwear drawer, every once in a while pocketing one to rub his dick with later. But he quickly became bolder. He’d walk in your room, then pull his pants down below his balls to free his cock and use your panties to wipe the precum beading at the tip, so it would indirectly touch your cunt. Or he’d position your pillow on the edge of the bed and rut against it, like he would if it were you under him. He had to refrain from coming on it though, not wanting it to stain and draw attention. So he settled for just smearing precum on it. 

Sometimes he’d even jack off to completion in your room. He’d go through your laundry hamper to find your panties from the previous day and put them against his face to smell you, then stroke his cock with them before bunching the fabric over the tip and coating them in his come. 

When he eventually was not as easily satisfied from that, he set up a few cameras. He put one in the light, right above your shower, and another in the vent, aimed at your perfectly placed bed, but it also pretty much showed your entire room. Whenever you got back from patrol or finished training, he’d rush up to his room and wait in front of his open laptop, his cock already hard and leaking in his hand. 

He watched you on the screen as you took off your slutty workout clothes and put them in the hamper before making your way to the bathroom. The first time he watched you shower he was completely focused on the sight of your nude body, but the second time he watched was when he got the idea. After you left the apartment, he walked in your room and jacked off the way he normally did, using your pillow or underwear, but stopped when he neared his orgasm. He headed to your bathroom and grabbed your body wash, then opened it and resumed fucking his fist. 

It’s almost like you fucking wanted him to do this since you chose a body wash that was the exact same color and conistancy as his come. So you can’t really blame him. He debated jizzing in your face wash too, but even he’s not that cruel. The next day, he watched you shower, almost immediately coming when you rubbed the body wash over every inch of your skin. 

He doesn’t even know how this idea came to him, maybe in a dream, but he wanted to do more with his come. The first time it was easy. Alfred made cinnamon rolls the day before and you took some home, so he decided to be a nice big bother and bring you one for dessert while you were studying. He stopped by his room and it didn’t take him long to come while he thought of what he was about to do. 

“Come in.” You muttered when he knocked on the door. He walked in, closing the door behind him, and you didn’t even glance up from your textbook, chewing on your pen as you read. 

“How’s the studying going?” He asked, taking a seat on the edge of your bed, near you. 

“Terrible. But I feel better now that you’re here.” You said, turning to him with a wide smile on your face. 

“I thought you could use a dessert break.” He returned your smile and held the plate out to you. 

“Oh that looks amazing.” You said, taking it from him and immediately digging in. The first bite you had no reaction, other than an exaggerated vulgar moan that made his cock twitch, but the second bite, you paused and furrowed your brows. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked, jeans becoming painfully tight. 

“I don’t know, it just- it tastes a little funny.” You said, trying another bite. 

“Maybe Alfred messed up something this time. Do you want me to get you something else?”

“No- no, it’s okay.” He knew you would say that. “It’s not… bad. It’s just different I guess. More salty?” 

“Are you sure? I don’t mind.”

“I’m sure.” You gave him a small smile and continued eating, making small talk that he couldn’t focus on as he watched. Somehow this was hotter than the idea of you swallowing his come after he fucked your throat. Maybe because you were unaware. 

Maybe, he thought with a scoff. More like definitely.

The next time he put it in your tea. He already knew exactly how you take your tea so he just added the milk and extra sugar to balance out the saltiness, then stopped by his room, making sure to hurry so it didn’t get cold. 

You were studying again when he opened your door. You gratefully took the tea and started complaining about an upcoming test you had, but he wasn’t listening. He couldn’t. Not when you took a sip, then immediately started chugging it. 

“This tastes so good, what’d you do?” You asked, barely pulling away from the cup to speak. 

“Nothing special.” He shrugged. “I made it how I always do.” You bought it and continued drinking until the mug was less than half full. “You like it?” He asked, cock throbbing. 

“I love it. Thank you, Jay, this was just what I needed.” You smiled, setting down the mug to get up and give him a hug. You pressed your body against his, making his hips flinch forward, but if you noticed, you didn’t say anything. 

“You’re welcome, princess. You ever want more, I’ll happily make it again for you.” He tried to hide his smirk with a smile as pulled back. 

The first time he put it in your tea, he stupidly brought a spoon to mix it. The second time though, he decided to forgo the spoon all together. He came in the drink, then without giving it another thought, used his own dick to stir it. It was weird at first, especially because he was still hard, but he did it, then watched the way you gulped it down, letting out a low, satisfied moan at the taste. Was putting his dick in tea with milk and sugar a bad idea? Maybe… But any and all consequences would be worth it. 

It became an obsession, trying to put it in anything he could, and you never once questioned why some of the food he made tasted weird. When that wasn’t enough anymore, he came up with more ideas. 

You’d started taking this pill to help you sleep, only on school nights though so you’d be able to get a full eight hours, and he knew he couldn’t let this opportunity go to waste. The first time he came into your room while you were sleeping, he was cautious- never moving too suddenly or making any noise. He didn’t want to take too much of a risk so he just lifted your shirt up enough to show your tits, then fucked his fist, making sure to come in his hand. 

The second time though, he decided to be a little more bold. He was still trying not to make any sudden movements and he said your name throughout it to make sure you were still asleep, but he lifted your shirt and pulled the blankets down so he could see your panties and bare tits. This time he came on your chest, then grabbed your underwear from the laundry basket to wipe it away. As he was doing that though, you stirred, making him freeze. He waited a few seconds after you stilled again to finish wiping your chest. 

He knew he had to make sure you’d stay completely knocked out so he decided to take matters into his own hands. Along with his come, he put something in your tea that should keep you dead asleep for a few hours. You drank it eagerly, moaning at the taste, making his cock throb. When your eyes started to grow heavy, he waited only a few more seconds before lifting you and carrying you to your bed. If you asked, he’d say you fell asleep and he just wanted to make sure you’d be comfortable. That’s why he changed your clothes too. Once you were completely bare on top of the sheets, he groped your tits, paying extra attention to your nipples as they hardened easily, making him smirk. 

Suddenly moving away from you, he took his clothes off impatiently, then kneeled over your torso. He let his dick rest on your sternum, then pushed your tits together and started fucking them. You didn’t even stir, you just stayed completely still. When precum started beading at the tip, he released your breasts to grab his cock, then wiped his arousal over your lips. As he stared at your pink and now shiny lips, an idea formed. 

He gently plugged your nose and you just barely shifted before you instinctively opened your mouth letting him slide in as he released your nose. He fucked your mouth slowly, trying not to go too deep. He wasn’t sure if your gag reflex would work the same while you were unconscious and he didn’t want to risk you throwing up on his cock. 

He neared his orgasm much sooner than he would’ve liked and he let himself come in your mouth with a low groan. You let out a muffled sound, only moving a tiny bit underneath him. When he pulled back, your head lulled to the side and his come started flowing out of your mouth onto your pillow, but he paid no mind to it. It’ll dry before you wake up. 

He got up and grabbed your underwear, putting it back on, making a mental note to start with that next time. When he picked up your pajama shirt, he debated just leaving you bare but that would make you suspicious so he did his best to put it on you without getting any of his come on his hands. When he did though, he just wiped it off on your cheek. 

“Jay?” You mumbled, yawning and rubbing your eyes as you walked into the living room a few hours later. 

“Hey, princess. You passed out on me, what happened?” 

“I dunno, I just got so tired. Did you carry me to my bed?” You asked, sitting next to him on the couch. 

“Yeah. And I changed you into your pjs so you wouldn’t have to sleep in your jeans.” 

“Oh.” You looked down at your body, seemingly just now noticing what you were wearing. “Thanks, Jay.” You said, hugging his arm and leaning your head on your shoulder. 

He could only wait two days before he had to do it again. You drank his come and the drug, then fell asleep on the couch, letting him carry you to your room. He made quick work of undressing you, then opened your legs and sat between them, not even bothering to do anything other than unzip his pants. Despite his eagerness, he wanted the first time he touched you to be something you remember, so he fucked his fist, gaze trailing all over your body. 

He came with a moan, painting your cunt with his seed and letting himself rest for only a moment before grabbing your underwear and putting it back on, keeping his come in place. It soaked through the fabric relatively quickly, so he grabbed his phone from his pocket and took a picture, making sure to get your tits in the frame too. He pocketed the device and righted his clothes before getting up to put your shirt back on, already thinking of what he was going to do next. 

#pov Jason Todd #jason todd #jason todd x reader #smut #innocent!reader #dark!jason todd