#did i know the above was happening?? yes and isn't that what matters in this world 🤧 the plot is him in that outfit now | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

shadebloopnik · 2 months

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Unrequited/One-sided Radioapple but it isn't treated like an angsty end of the world thing.

Imagine they slowly get closer after all the banters, and eventually becoming close friends. Lucifer ends up catching feelings for him, and after a long while, decides to confess and ask Alastor if he felt the same.

Alastor admittedly does not feel the same.

He's getting uncomfortable, struggling to keep his composure because he's DONE this before. He KNOWS how this ends. He remembers Vox and all his insistent declarations of affection and desperate pleas for Alastor to reciprocate; the possessive entitlement. He remembers how all those sickly sweet words morphed into something venomous when he didn't give the lowlife what he wanted. He remembers the anger, the ridiculous notion that it was Alastor's fault why he was so mad, that Alastor led him on and that he obviously deserved something in payment for it all-

So yes, Alastor knows how this ends.

It doesn't mean he isn't disappointed though, because he actually LIKES Lucifer, far more than he ever did Vox. Perhaps not in the way the king might have wanted, but he did. He treasured their little talks, their drinking sessions, their shared love for their instruments, Lucifers singing, their little duets, the banter, the playful jabs, the sparring.

He'd even slowly grown accustomed to the other's touches, not feeling the same surge of disgust and discomfort whenever the shorter man would grab at his arm in excitement, forgetting his usual thoughtfulness of Alastor's touch aversion for the short moment of whatever distracted him. Alastor even enjoyed it at times, relaxing at the feel of soft feathers beneath his claws, or the sensation of gentle scratches against his ears.

Difficult as it was to admit, Alastor had grown to care for the angel, the same way he had for Rosie orv Mimzy.

But no matter how fond Alastor was of Lucifer, it didn't change the fact that he didn't feel the same way romantically, or even sexually. No way in the 7 rings of Hell was he going to lie to Lucifer about either, not going to even entertain the idea of pretending he reciprocated for Lucifer's sake. He respected his friend too much for that.

So a clear, direct rejection it is. It was a shame, but nothing could be done. He said his piece concisely, and waited, shoulders set, back straight, smile and eyes a careful blank canvas as he prepared for the inevitable.

Lucifer nodded, a normal soft smile still in place, "Thank you for your answer, it means a lot."

Which......what? Alastor expected an outburst, or at the very least sharp words.

What he did NOT expect was....acceptance? And not just that but, a happy one? Contentment?????

"You're....alright with that?", he had to ask, he had to. Lucifer was clearly just very good at masking his upset.

But the damn angel just smiled?? And it didn't even look fake, just as bright and soft as his normal smiles, albeit a little confused?? Lucifer smiled at him, his brows furrowing in a bit of confused disbelief, as though Alastor is being the weird one here.

"Uhh, yeah??? Why wouldn't I be??? Yeah I may have some feelings for you but its not like you're obligated to feel the same. Above anything else, we're friends first and foremost and i'm alright with that..."

Then he seemed to have reached his own little conclusion as his words trailed off, because suddenly Lucifer's eyes widened in realization of something, and his words picking up with a sense of panicked urgency.

Alastor would really like to know what Lucifer's supposed realization was about himself because he had absolutely no clue.

"I mean, we ARE still friends right?? I don't- I- I hope this doesn't like- change your opinion of me. You're not- oh gosh I'm not making you uncomfortable am I? I- I won't mention it! You can even forget this whole confession ever happened! We can just go on as before! I don't feel any different or would act any different! Honest! I mean, I don't regret confessing because you deserve to know and I'm not ashamed of my feelings, but I don't want you to be uncomfortable! It doesn't change the way i'll treat you! Or change any aspect of our relationship! I don't even think I like you more as a lover than as a friend! I really, really do love our friendship, it matters more to me than any thoughts of being in a romantic relationship with you! So please just forget it all-"

Alastor let the word vomit wash over him, every word leaving him more confused by the minute.

Because yes, there's the desperation he expected, but...it was more about, convincing Alastor to remain friends?? Reassuring Alastor that nothing has to change?? That their friendship is the most important thing here??

(If anyone asks, no Alastor's heart didn't swell. Only lesser beings would have had the urge to cry, and Alastor is anything but.)

Lucifer is unknowingly reassuring Alastor of every single one of his insecurities about the situation. Because Alastor DID want to remain friends, he cared too much about the man to let it go so easily. It was rare to find people who treasure friendships above romantic relationships.

"I don't tend to forget easily, nor will I forget this one in particular.", he spoke, finally finding his voice. At Lucifer's defeated, pained expression( is their friendship really that important to him?), he continued. "But....yes. I'd like that.. To remain...friends."

He didn't often say the word out loud, being comfortable enough with each other that it need not be reassured with the label. But with Lucifer brightening up like his namesake, relief and happiness palpable, Alastor felt no qualms at declaring their friendship out loud.

So life went on as usual. True to his word, Lucifer remained basically the same. The following weeks were a bit stilted for Alastor, as he put some rather painful distance between him and the angel; limiting their interactions, their usual touches.

Anytime now, Lucifer would break and show his true colors, Alastor would think, waiting for the boot to drop. Lucifer would end up angry, and dissatisfied, and that was that.

But it never happened. Lucifer never expressed discomfort when Alastor avoided him, seeming to be understanding of the others need for space. He was just as affectionate as before, though initially a bit held back, as though gauging Alastor's comfort.

Months would pass, and the king never faltered. Their friendship remained strong, if not growing ever closer than before. Alastor found himself even growing more comfortable with the man. Affectionate touches were becoming common, hugs and head pats and cuddles being a welcome thing, with the reassurance that the shorter king would never disrespect his boundaries.

Lucifer seemed genuinely happy about it, despite being clearly told that none of Alastor's actions hinted at anything romantic. In fact, he seemed ecstatic that Alastor was getting more affectionate towards him as a friend. The embarrassment the radio demon felt at having Lucifer basically tear up (no really, he was crying so hard, full on drama sobbing) with joy in front of him was intertwined with the sheer incredulous fondness he felt for the man at that moment.

They were sitting at a couch one night, more than a year passing since that confession. Lucifer was leaning back, resting against the cushions, while Alastor had his head on the smaller one's shoulder, nuzzling at the crook of his neck, legs tucked close to his body. Both had a book in hand, two nearly empty cups of tea on the table in front of them. Every so often, Lucifer would flex his fingers that rested on Alastor's head, running a digit against the other's ear, often prompting the demon to lean into the touch. White wings enveloped the two, blanketing them against the chill of the night.

As Alastor turned the page of his own book, relaxing into the touch of his dearest friend, he wondered how he ever got so lucky in hell.

#this may have gotten away from me lmao #this was supposed to be a rlly short prompt of 'Unrequited love but overbrimming friendship' but instead i typed out this word vomit-#i don't know if im labeling things right here??? this may not look platonic tk others but ig im sort of projecting here #bc i want friendships like this soo badd. i mean this is still platonic right??? this is normal friendship behavior like come onnn #I've been teased about being ace bc of this mindset but i always just go RIGHT this is how friendship works y'all blind😭😭😭#bloopnik writing #bloopnik rambles #radioapple #appleradio #platonic radioapple #platonic relationships #aroace alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor hazbin #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin alastor #alastor #duckiedeer #unrequited feelings #BUT NOT UNREQUITED LOVE HELL YEA #one sided radiostatic #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel #THEY LOVE EACH OTHER SO MUCH AND ITS BEAUTIFUL #queerplatonic #i think #fic #fanfic #radiosilence

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sunnylands-world · 4 months

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STREAM

Pairing: Vinnie hacker x fem reader

Summary: you become needy and your boyfriend won't deny you no matter what he's doing

Word Count: 699

Warning: thigh riding, fingering, dirty talk, kinda sub reader and Dom Vinnie if you squint

A/n: I had deleted this but I don't remember why so here it is again lol

You read the warnings if you continue to read. I'm not to be held responsible.

Comments, reblogs, and inboxes are appreciated and motivational

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Curled up in Vinnie's bed, you watched him play his game, but the dull ache between your thighs had not gone away since he seated himself. You are aware that he was live on something, but you were uncertain about what, not that it was important to you at the time.

He hasn't looked back at you since he told you he would be playing the game. He wore a pink sweater and black shorts while making minor comments to the fans or whatever. You made an effort not to disturb him while he was playing, but you had no idea how much time it would take or if he was aware of your desire for him at that moment.

You wiggled a bit and pressed your face against his pillow with a frustrated grunt. His blanket was tucked between your thighs and you unconsciously moved around, rubbing yourself against it. It wasn't helping, especially since you were aware of his close proximity.

He was chewing the inside of his cheek while his headphones rested on his dirty blonde hair. His lips were puckered slightly, and his nose piercing glowed in the blue lighting.

"Vin," you whined, but he didn't seem to notice.

"Vinnie" You yelled a little louder, Vinnie's eyes wandered for a moment before he asked someone to hold on. He pushed from the table, pulled his headphones down until they rested on his neck, and turned to you.

"Yes, baby," he said sweetly as he smiled and looked towards you.

Vinnie wasn't stupid. He knew you like the back of his hand, so it didn't take long to understand what was happening.

He returned his gaze to yours, this time with a lustful look, tilting his head while smirking. He gestured at you in a beckoning manner and asked you to come over.

You stood and walked towards him, his shirt falling just above your mid-thigh. You waited impatiently for anything he would give you.

He didn't say a word, but tapped his thigh. You looked puzzled, but still sat.

He lifted his headphones, leaning towards your ear, as he whispered,

"Move".

You did what he said, rocking against him, in need of friction of any kind. You bite your lip, feeling your clit have just the appropriate amount of pressure to get you off.

He returned his attention to the game and announced his return to everyone. You moved shamelessly in his lap while he played, and he occasionally rested his hand on the fat of your ass, giving you a slight squeeze or leaning forward to whisper praises in your ear.

"Good girl."

"That's it baby, get it nice and wet for me."

"Just like that."

"My pretty girl is so needy for me, isn't she?"

And you nodded, biting your lip even harder, tasting the metallic flavor of blood as you try to suppress the need to be loud for him, like you usually are.

The wetness in your panties probably left a patch on his shorts, and it seemed to only heighten your pleasure doing something like this while everyone or anyone could have heard you if you made noise.

You began to feel your stomach knot. You leaned forward, kissing and sucking at your boyfriend's neck grounding yourself in the security of coming undone in his lap.

His unoccupied hand sneaked in between your bodies to touch your swollen clit, and he rubbed circles on the throbbing bud, assisting you in getting closer. You used all your will power to not cry out.

"Let go baby. I know you wanna cum for me," He whispered, noticing your starting to tighten on his fingers as he snuck them into your clenching pussy and that was all it took for you to unravel, trembling against him.

You quickened your pace and bite down on the flesh of his neck to hold in the sound, as the intense feeling made you feel limp.

He lightly tapped your ass, encouraging you to look up, and he simply nodded towards the three screens. As you looked back, you came to the realization...

You had just came on a live stream where you were visible to everyone...

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©Sunnylands-world this belongs to me therefore you don't have the right to do anything with my work or ideas without permission.

Nice thought, reblogs, and inboxing is appreciated and motivational ❤

#vinnie imagines #vinnie smut #vinnie x reader #vinnie hacker #vinnie hacker smut #vinnie x you #vinnie vincent #vinnie baby #vinnie hacker x you #vinnie hacker x y/n #vinnie hacker x reader #smut writing #smut

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rynwritesreid · 5 months

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Mind games~Spencer Reid

Chapter two: Could have been me

Chapter summary: When you don't show up to work the morning after your argument with Spencer, Hotch sends the team looking for you as your life could be in danger.

Chapter warnings: Fem!reader. Kidnapping. Mentions of possible murders. Typically cm case stuff. Reader is bound and gagged(but nothing else is mentioned).

A/N: This is loosely based on the episodes where the team were been stalked but I have put a little spin on it. I'm going to take a little break, not for long just a week or two, but I won't be checking my Tumblr as much. I hope everyone enjoys this. If you're not on the taglist, and you want to be, you can either comment or follow the link (Which I still will be checking). Anyway, Jag älskar dig.

~mind games masterlist~

~join the mind games taglist~

“You know, she told the girls what you said to her, Spencer.” Derek interjected, his voice filled with a mix of concern and disappointment. “She looked up to you, I mean she basically saw you as a god. You and her could make an amazing team, but instead you dislike her, because she is on the same level as you.”

Spencer's face softened for a brief moment, his features betraying a flicker of regret. He hadn't realized the impact his words had on you, nor the way it would spread through the team like wildfire. It wasn't his intention to hurt you. In truth, he had been wrestling with his own demons, battling insecurities that had plagued him for far too long.

"I didn't mean to..." Spencer began, his voice barely above a whisper. But before he could finish his sentence, JJ interjected, her gentle tone cutting through the tension.

"It doesn't matter what you meant or didn't mean, Spencer. The damage is done," she said, her eyes filled with disappointment. "Y/N deserves better than this."

“Look, I regret what I said to her, I do. And yes, maybe she deserves better than what I said, but did she tell you what she said to me?” Spencer paused, his voice laced with a mix of frustration and vulnerability.

Derek and JJ exchanged glances, sensing that there was more to the story than they initially thought. Spencer's voice trembled with a mix of vulnerability and frustration as he continued.

"She told me that I act like I believe I'm better than everyone else, that I flaunt my achievements," he admitted, his gaze focused on the ground as if the weight of his words were too heavy to bear. "But she doesn't know the whole story. She doesn't know the insecurities that eat away at me every day."

Derek's expression softened, understanding dawning in his eyes. "Spencer, we all have our battles," he said gently. "But taking it out on her isn't the answer. You two could be an incredible team if you just gave it a chance."

“I’ll say sorry to her, but I doubt she’ll want to work with me after all I said to her.”

Derek placed a hand on Spencer's shoulder, offering a reassuring squeeze. "You won't know unless you try. Y/N is resilient and understanding. And if you show her that you truly regret your words, she might surprise you."

Spencer tried to find you to apologise but he couldn’t seem to. He asked JJ if she had seen you, but she just shook her head and told him that you most likely had taken the day off or you were just late. However, when they saw Hotch walk out his office, and look directly at your desk, they both thought something else may have happened.

“Emily, have you seen Y/N anywhere?” Hotch asked, a hint of worry in his voice.

Emily glanced around the bullpen, her eyes scanning the empty desks and filing cabinets. "No, Hotch. I haven't seen her all morning. Did something happen?"

Hotch sighed heavily, his brows furrowing in concern. "I'm not sure. She didn't show up for our scheduled meeting this morning, and she hasn't responded to any of my calls or messages."

Worry etched itself onto Emily's features as she reached for her phone, dialling your number without hesitation. The sound of ringing filled the air as the team held their breath, waiting for a response.

After a few agonizing moments, Emily disconnected the call with a shake of her head. "Straight to voicemail," she murmured.

Derek's eyes widened in alarm. "That's not like her. Y/N never ignores her phone, especially not when it's work-related."

Hotch nodded, his concern growing with each passing second. “I know. Spencer, after your disagreement with her last night, did you notice her go anywhere, or did she say anything to you at all?”

Spencer's heart sank as he realized the severity of the situation. He hadn't anticipated that his argument with you had escalated to this point. Guilt gnawed at him, fuelling his determination to find you and make things right.

"I didn't see her leave last night," Spencer admitted, his voice filled with regret. "But she seemed really upset. I think she might have needed some space."

Hotch's expression hardened; his concern now veiled with a sense of urgency. "We can't afford to waste any more time," he said firmly. "I want the team to split up and search for Y/N. Derek, you take the surrounding area and check if she went home. Emily, canvas the local coffee shops and places she likes to go. JJ, contact her friends or anyone close to her. We need to find her as soon as possible."

“Hotch, why are you so worried?” JJ asked, a hint of confusion in her voice. “Do you know something we don’t? I mean I’ll do all of this, of course, but you seem a lot more concerned than you should be.”

Hotch's gaze flickered with a mixture of apprehension and determination. He took a deep breath before finally speaking, his voice laden with worry. “There was a meeting with other unit leaders this morning, and people who joined us at the same time as Y/N have been disappearing.”

Emily's eyes widened in shock, the gravity of the situation sinking in. "You think Y/N might have been targeted?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Hotch nodded grimly. "It's a possibility we can't ignore. We've already lost three team members from that cohort, and we need to find Y/N before it's too late."

Derek clenched his jaw, his grip tightening on his phone. "I'll check her apartment first, see if she went home," he said, determination filling his voice. "If she's not there, I'll widen the search radius."

JJ nodded, her fingers already flying across her phone screen as she contacted Y/N's closest friends and contacts. "I'll reach out to everyone and see if they've heard from her," she said, her voice tinged with worry.

“This takes priority to the other case we are working. And that’s not just me stating this, the bureau want this taken care off.” Hotch declared, his voice firm and resolute. "Y/N's safety is our top concern, and we won't rest until we find her."

The team dispersed, each member taking on their assigned tasks with a renewed sense of determination. Spencer stood frozen for a moment, his mind flooded with regret and fear for your well-being. Guilt crept up his spine, threatening to consume him as he replayed the words, he had said to you.

But now was not the time for self-pity or remorse. He needed to find you, to make things right, and to protect you from whatever danger lurked in the shadows. With a newfound resolve, he grabbed his coat and joined Derek in the search.

Derek and Spencer combed through every inch of your apartment, searching for any trace of where you might have gone. They checked your bedroom, your bathroom, and even the closet in case you were hiding. But there was nothing.

"Damn it," Derek muttered under his breath as he ran a hand through his hair. "She's not here, Spencer."

Spencer stood in the centre of your living room, his eyes scanning the surroundings as if hoping for some clue to reveal itself. "Think, think," he whispered to himself, racking his brain for any indication of where you could be.

His gaze fell upon the corkboard hanging on the wall, covered in pictures and notes. Without hesitation, he approached it, studying each item carefully. His eyes landed on a picture of you, and what he assumed were people who were at the academy at the same time as you.

“Derek, do you know the names of the other people who have gone missing?” Spencer asked, his voice laced with urgency.

Derek furrowed his brows, trying to recall the information he had heard during the briefing earlier that morning. "Yeah," he replied, his voice tinged with concern. "There was Sarah Thomas, Chris Matthews, and Mark Reynolds. Why?"

“Look at this photo, could this be them with Y/N?” Spencer pointed to the picture on the corkboard, his finger hovering above the faces of the individuals. Derek leaned closer, studying the image intently.

“Maybe. Grab the picture, we will show it to Hotch.”

Spencer carefully removed the photograph from the corkboard, handling it with delicate fingers as if it held a piece of the puzzle he desperately needed to solve. He knew that showing it to Hotch would be the next step in their search for you, for answers.

As they walked into the office, their faces filled with worry and determination caught Hotch's attention immediately. He approached them, his eyes narrowing as he took in the evidence bag Derek was holding.

"What did you find?" Hotch asked, his voice steady but filled with anticipation.

Spencer handed over the evidence bag, ensuring Hotch had a clear view of the photo inside. "We found this in Y/N's apartment," he explained. "It appears to be a picture of her with the three individuals who have gone missing. We thought it might be worth showing you."

Hotch's gaze hardened as he studied the photo, his mind working through various scenarios and possibilities. “I think Y/N is danger.”

Hotch's words hung heavy in the air, the gravity of the situation sinking deeper into the hearts of Derek and Spencer. They exchanged a glance, their eyes filled with a mix of determination and fear.

"Y/N could be in serious trouble," Derek stated, his voice laced with urgency. "We need to find her before whoever is responsible for these disappearances gets to her."

Hotch nodded, his jaw clenched tightly “I think the person who is responsible for these disappearances has already gotten to her, Derek.”

Derek's heart skipped a beat, the weight of Hotch's words hitting him like a freight train. He clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white as rage and fear surged through his veins. "We can't let anything happen to her," he said, his voice low and determined.

Spencer's mind buzzed with a million different thoughts, trying to piece together the puzzle that had become your disappearance. "Do we have any leads? Any idea where she might be?"

Hotch sighed heavily, the lines on his forehead deepening. "Not yet" he admitted. "But we need to work fast. Whoever is behind this is organized, and they know what they're doing. We need to beat them at their own game."

“Spencer, go chat to Garcia, see if she has found anything or been able to locate Y/Ns phone. Derek, call Emily and JJ see if they have found anything. I’m going to call the other unit leaders who have lost members, and the academy to see if they know anything.”

Spencer nodded, his mind already racing with the task at hand. He quickly made his way to Garcia's office, knowing that her exceptional skills in technology would prove invaluable in their search.

As he entered the room, he found Garcia hunched over her computer, surrounded by screens filled with lines of code and databases. The room buzzed with the sound of beeping monitors and clacking keys.

"Garcia," Spencer called out, trying to catch her attention amidst the chaos. "Hotch wants us to find any leads on Y/N's whereabouts. Have you been able to track her phone or any other digital footprint?"

Garcia spun around in her chair, her eyes lighting up with determination. "Spence! I've been trying to crack into her phone and social media accounts, but it seems like whoever is behind this has taken extra precautions. It's like Y/N vanished into thin air."

"Keep trying, Garcia. We need any lead we can get. Check for any unusual activity, recent contacts, anything that might give us a clue."

Garcia nodded, her fingers dancing across the keyboard as she delved deeper into the digital world. "I won't stop until I find something, Spencer. Y/N deserves justice, and we are going to make sure she gets it."

Spencer's phone buzzed in his pocket, and he quickly retrieved it to see a message from Derek. It read: "No luck here. No signs of Y/N or any of the other missing persons. Emily and JJ are coming up empty too."

Spencer sighed, his heart sinking at the lack of progress. They were running out of time, and every passing moment without a breakthrough felt like an eternity. He knew they couldn't afford to give up, but the weight of the situation was beginning to take its toll.

As he turned his attention back to Garcia, he noticed a glimmer of excitement in her eyes. "Spence, I think I might have found something," she said, her voice filled with hope.

His heart skipped a beat as he hurried over to her side, peering at the screen. Lines of code and data flashed before his eyes, but one particular piece caught his attention. "What is it?" he asked eagerly.

Garcia pointed to a series of encrypted messages on the screen. "These are conversations between Y/N and someone who goes by the name 'ShadowX'. It seems like they've been communicating for some time now."

Spencer's eyes widened as he absorbed the information. "ShadowX," he muttered, his mind racing to recall any mention of the name during their investigation. It felt like a puzzle piece finally falling into place.

Garcia continued to decipher the encrypted messages, her fingers flying across the keyboard with practiced precision. "It looks like Y/N trusted this person," she said, her voice filled with concern. “They seemed close. It looks like they met at the academy, but if you look at this message, it seems ShadowX didn’t do so well and didn’t get a job in the FBI.”

Spencer's brow furrowed as he read the message, his mind working to piece together the puzzle. "So, ShadowX was a classmate of Y/N's at the academy," he mused aloud. "But if they didn't get a job with the FBI, what happened to them?"

Garcia tapped her fingers on the keyboard, her eyes scanning through the messages for any more clues. "I'm still trying to dig deeper, but it seems like ShadowX disappeared shortly after their graduation. There's no trace of them anywhere since then."

Spencer's mind raced with possibilities. Could ShadowX be responsible for the disappearances? Or were they also a victim? He knew they needed more information, more pieces of the puzzle, to solve this case and bring you back safely.

“Garcia, I think ShadowX is behind all of this. Y/N is smart, she was ahead of everybody else at the academy, I even checked her marksmanship, and she was getting top scores on that too. I think ShadowX was jealous. And look at all the other people who have gone missing, all smart, all got a job here.” Spencer swallowed hard as he realized the gravity of the situation.

Garcia's eyes widened, realization dawning upon her. "You might be onto something, Spence," she replied, her voice filled with a mix of determination and concern. "If ShadowX was jealous of Y/N's success and disappeared after graduation, it's possible they've been planning this for a long time."

Spencer's mind buzzed with the weight of their discovery. The pieces were beginning to fall into place, revealing a darker truth that sent shivers down his spine. "We need to find out everything we can about ShadowX," he said, his voice filled with conviction. "Their motives, their whereabouts, anything that will lead us to Y/N."

Garcia nodded fervently, her fingers flying across the keyboard as she delved deeper into the digital abyss. Her determination was unwavering as she hacked into every database she could access, leaving no stone unturned.

Meanwhile, Derek and Hotch returned to the bullpen after making their calls. Derek's face was etched with worry, lines deepening as he caught sight of Spencer standing beside Garcia. Without a word, he joined them.

"What do you have?" Derek asked, his voice tinged with urgency.

Spencer glanced at Garcia, who nodded in confirmation. "ShadowX was a classmate of Y/N's at the academy," he began, his voice filled with resolve. "But they didn't get a job with the FBI. They disappeared shortly after graduation, and there's been no trace of them since."

Derek clenched his jaw, anger simmering beneath his skin. "Jealousy and resentment," he muttered under his breath.

Derek's words hung heavy in the air, the weight of the situation settling over them like a suffocating fog. The knowledge that someone they had once trusted, someone from their own ranks, could be behind the disappearances was both unsettling and infuriating.

Hotch's voice broke the tense silence. "We need to find out everything we can about ShadowX," he said, his tone resolute. "Their motives, their connections, any possible leads. We can't let them slip through our fingers."

Garcia's fingers danced across the keyboard as she accessed every database available, her determination unwavering. "I'm going to trace ShadowX's digital footprint, follow every electronic trail they left behind," she declared, her eyes blazing with a mix of determination and anger. "No one disappears without a trace in this day and age."

Derek's eyes narrowed, his hands bawling into fists at his sides. "We'll find them," he said through gritted teeth. "No one hurts our team and gets away with it."

The team had left Garcia so she could continue with her research, Derek and Spencer had decided to go through the files on your desk, see if there was anything there. Hotch remained in his office making phone calls, JJ and Emily seemed lost, they had come to love you and knowing you were in danger was tearing them apart.

Spencer though, he was reflecting, he had come to terms to why he had disliked you. It wasn’t just because of your intelligence , or how you just seemed to make friends with everybody, it was because he knew he didn’t truly stand a chance with you. He wasn’t just jealous of you; he was jealous of anyone who would ever get a chance of loving you.

As Spencer flipped through the files on your desk, his thoughts continued to swirl, entangled in a mix of emotions. Guilt crept into his heart as he realized how his jealousy had clouded his judgment and caused him to distance himself from you. He had pushed you away, not only because of his own insecurities but also to protect himself from the pain of seeing someone else capture your heart.

But now, faced with the gravity of the situation, Spencer's perspective shifted. The fear of losing you altogether overshadowed any lingering jealousy. He knew deep down that he couldn't let his personal feelings hinder the efforts to find you and bring you back safely.

Derek glanced over at Spencer, noticing the conflict etched on his face. "You alright, Pretty Boy?" he asked, concern lacing his voice.

Spencer sighed, running a hand through his unruly hair. "I'm trying to come to terms with everything," he admitted, his voice tinged with vulnerability. "I realized that my jealousy was unfounded and only served to push Y/N away. Now, all I can think about is finding her and bringing her back safely."

Derek nodded in understanding; his eyes filled with empathy. "We'll find her, Reid," he reassured, placing a hand on his shoulder. "We're not giving up until we do."

Spencer offered a small smile of gratitude, grateful for Derek's unwavering support. "Thank you, Derek," he said sincerely. "I don't know what I would do without you guys."

As they were about to get back into the files, they heard the distinctive clicking of Garcia shows.

“Guy’s!” Garcia exclaimed as she burst into the room, her eyes wide with excitement. "I think I found something! ShadowX has been using an alias, but I managed to track down their real identity. Their name is Ethan Sullivan, and he used to work for a private security firm. But get this," she paused for dramatic effect, "he was fired after allegations of unethical practices surfaced."

Spencer's eyes widened, his mind connecting the dots. "Unethical practices... that could explain why he didn't get a job with the FBI," he mused, his voice filled with realization. "And if he was jealous of Y/N's success, it's possible he's been targeting graduates from the academy."

Derek's jaw clenched as anger flared within him. "We need to find Ethan Sullivan," he said firmly. "If he's behind these disappearances, we need to bring him to justice."

Garcia nodded in agreement, her fingers itching to dig deeper into the digital realm. "I'm going to trace Sullivan's every move, leave no virtual stone unturned," she declared, her eyes ablaze with determination. "We'll find him, and we'll bring him down."

Garcia let out a triumphant cheer. "I found him!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with a mix of excitement and relief. "Ethan Sullivan is currently residing in an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of town. It seems like he's been using it as his base of operations."

Hotch, who had finished his phone calls, emerged from his office with a stern look on his face. "We need to move quickly," he said, the gravity of the situation evident in his voice.

Emily, JJ, I want you to coordinate with local law enforcement and secure the perimeter around the warehouse," Hotch continued, his voice commanding. "Derek, Spencer, you'll come with me. We're going in."

The team sprang into action, each member homing in on their assigned tasks with precision. Emily and JJ made the necessary calls, ensuring that backup was on the way. Meanwhile, Garcia continued to monitor Sullivan's digital presence, providing real-time updates on his movements.

As they approached the abandoned warehouse, tension hung heavy in the air. The once bustling building now stood as a dark and foreboding figure against the night sky. With each step closer, the team's determination grew stronger.

Hotch gave a nod to Derek and Spencer, signalling it was time to move. With weapons drawn and hearts pounding, they entered the warehouse cautiously yet swiftly.

The interior of the warehouse was shrouded in darkness, save for eerie beams of moonlight that filtered through the broken windows. The creaking of old boards under their feet echoed through the cavernous space, causing a sense of unease to settle over the team. The air was heavy with anticipation as they moved deeper into the labyrinth of forgotten boxes and discarded equipment.

Derek's eyes scanned the surroundings, his senses heightened as he listened for any sign of movement. Spencer, ever the analytical mind, was piecing together the possible hiding spots Sullivan could be using within the warehouse. They moved in sync, their training and trust in each other guiding their every step.

As they navigated through the maze of shadows, a faint sound caught Spencer's attention. He held up a hand to signal Derek to stop, his ears straining to catch even the slightest noise. It was then that he heard it again, a muffled cry for help.

Heart pounding in his chest, Spencer followed the sound, leading them towards a dimly lit corner of the warehouse. There, hidden behind a stack of crates, they found you. Bound and gagged, your eyes filled with fear and relief as you saw the familiar faces of your team members.

Derek rushed forward, releasing you from your restraints with swift, practiced movements. "We've got you," he said softly, his voice filled with a mixture of protectiveness and concern. "You're safe now."

Spencer knelt down beside you, his gentle touch removing the gag from your mouth. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice laced with worry.

You nodded, your voice barely above a whisper. "I'm...I'm okay," you managed to say, tears streaming down your face. "Thank you for finding me."

Hotch approached; his gaze steady as he spoke. "We need to get out of here," he said firmly. "Garcia, call for medical assistance and secure an exit strategy."

“I’ll stay with her.” Spencer volunteered; his voice filled with determination. He didn't want to leave your side, not after everything you had been through.

Hotch nodded in agreement, understanding the need for comfort and reassurance. "Alright, Reid," he said, his voice softening. "But be careful."

"You're safe now," Spencer whispered softly, his voice filled with genuine concern. "We won't let anything happen to you."

You nodded; your voice still shaky. "I don't know how to thank you guys," you said, your gratitude pouring forth. "You saved my life."

Spencer smiled warmly, his own emotions raw and palpable. "You don't have to thank us," he replied, his eyes filled with sincerity. "We're a team, and we look out for each other."

“I’m sorry for what I said to you, Spencer. I just wanted your approval.”

Spencer shook his head, his eyes filled with forgiveness. "You don't have to apologize, Y/N," he said softly. “I should be saying sorry to you, I just let my insecurities get in the way.”

You reached out and placed a hand on Spencer's arm, offering a reassuring smile. "We all have our moments of doubt and insecurity," you said, your voice gentle. "What matters is that we learn and grow from them."

~taglist~

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red is for @ that’s don’t work

In the next chapter… will you and Spencer remain friends. Will Spencer confront his own feelings for you. Will he tell you how he feels. Will this new found friendship be pushed to the limits when an old love interest comes to visit.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid smut #spencer reid angst #dom spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x you #criminal minds x reader #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #mgg smut #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds smut #dr spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfiction

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incognit0slut · 1 year

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Right Kind of Wrong (5)

She never thought she would be involved in a murder investigation and encounter her one-night-stand again, the awkward guy who isn’t exactly that good in bed—Or is he? Offended by the sentiment, Spencer is determined to prove her wrong… But as he gets tangled with the beautiful stranger, he realizes there is more to her than what meets the eye

Part summary: Spencer’s lack of experience on the female anatomy is educated by her. wc: 4,7k

Warnings: 18+ explicit content, graphic details of murder

a/n: sorry it took me longer to update, kind of went through a writer’s block but finally got back the vibe

Other parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14

SPENCER WAS A MAN ON A MISSION. His steps echoed on the marble floor the next morning as he entered the mundane space of the bureau, hand gripping the strap of his bag. The glass door separating the familiarity of his disorganized desk greeted him, but before he could enter the room, his heels turned towards a certain part of the office he was accustomed to.

He pushed the door at the end of the hallway to find Garcia typing away on her keyboard, her eyes fixated on the screen in front of her. The sudden sound of his arrival startled her before she swiveled in her chair, because the man standing by the door hardly visited her this early, especially when he still had his bag thrown over his shoulder.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't the good doctor." She leaned back in her chair and gave him a grin. "What do I owe the pleasure of your presence in the safety of my lair?"

Spencer took a cautious step into the room as he closed the door behind him. "I need you to find me an address."

"That is my specialty." She turned back to her monitors. "Hit me."

"Y/n L/n."

There was a heavy pause as her fingers hovered above the keyboard. The familiarity of the name had her eying him as he stepped into her line of vision. "Isn't she one of the witnesses you talked to last night?"

He awkwardly cleared his throat. "Yes, she is."

"And you need her address because...?"

"I..." A sense of dread and anxiety hit him as he felt the intensity of her scrutinizing gaze. "I—I have further questions to ask."

Garcia wasn't an expert in profiling, unlike most of her teammates, but she wasn't blind when it came to picking out other people's sudden change of composure. Spencer's usually calm demeanor was suddenly replaced with discomfort, something that rarely occurred unless the topic of conversation extremely flustered him.

"You know," she started, slightly twisting her body. "Morgan told me something interesting happened last night, and I'm usually not one to gossip—" She rolled her eyes at the look he gave her. "Alright, fine, maybe I am. But it's not gossip if it's true."

His face twisted into a frown. "What did he tell you?"

"That the pretty witness lady may or may not know you personally." When he didn't respond, she urged on, "So? Is it true?"

Spencer quickly dropped his gaze to the floor. He considered himself to be a very private person, one that didn't share much about their personal life. The introverted trait in him preferred the comfort of spending his time engrossed with his own thoughts than engaging in unnecessary, awkward conversations with others. So whenever he received attention regarding his private matters, he couldn't help but feel uncomfortable under the spotlight.

"I cannot confirm nor deny that."

She scoffed. "You do realize you're not making it any less suspicious, right?"

She then proceeded in typing the name of the woman he had met the previous night but immediately stopped, her eyes piercing back at him. "What?"

"I will give you the address if you tell me whether you need it for work or personal reasons."

This was why he disliked human interaction. Couldn't one go on with their own lifestyle without questioning another person's way of life?

He let out an irritated sigh. "Garcia."

"Reid."

He pondered whether he could get away without explaining the intention of his request. But this was Penelope Garcia, known to be relentless with an interest in exchanging information about the personal lives of the team members. There was no other choice than to cave in if he wanted to avoid her persistent persuasion, so he answered—although reluctantly—in a very low voice, "Personal reasons.”

"I knew it!" She gleefully laughed. She focused her attention back onto her monitor, her fingers working their wonders before a passport picture of a woman stared back at them through the screen. "Ooh, she's pretty."

She really was. The person staring back at him was smiling, something he hadn't seen the last time he saw her. Her smile was an incredibly beautiful thing to behold. It was also incredibly contagious as he found his lips curling into a smile of his own, his eyes scanning across every feature on her radiant face. He was completely enthralled, it was as if her beauty had a grip on him, putting him in some sort of trance.

She was absolutely beautiful.

"Do you want me to save her picture? Send it to your phone?"

He felt the warmth spreading along his cheeks. "No." He turned his gaze towards the address printed on the left side of the screen, memorizing the exact street and the number of her residential.

"When I said you were a Casanova, I didn't think it would come to this extent." He threw her a frown as she explained, "A few days ago you had a lady friend at your place, and now this."

Spencer pursed his lips together. His palms immediately began to sweat as she sent him a wicked grin. His silence was all that it took for her to bounce in her chair, hands clapping at the irony of the situation. "No way. Are you telling me this is the same woman you met at the bar? The same stranger you spent the night with is the exact witness you talked to last night?"

He turned on his heels. "Goodbye, Garcia."

"Wait—no!" She grabbed him by the arm, forcing him to face her again. "Oh my god, I am so invested. This is way more entertaining than the show I'm currently watching!"

He heaved out a sigh. "I'm glad you can find amusement in my misery."

"Misery? This isn't misery, sweetheart, this is amazing. When was the last time you were involved with someone?" Far too long, he thought to himself, but his answer must've shown across his face. "Exactly. Now, aren't you glad I didn't show up that night?"

He shook his head, deciding not to answer her question, and crossed his arms instead. "This stays between us, okay?"

She nodded eagerly. "Of course."

"And you can't even mention this to Morgan."

"What?" She groaned as he proceeded to scowl at her. "Alright, alright. He will not hear any of this."

He assessed her one last time, cautiously weighing any possibility of her bluff. But when she returned his gaze with a suddenly concerned stare, he had to double-check whether he was seeing right. The mischievous glint in her eyes was replaced by a deep sense of worry, her face melting into the familiar solemn look she flashed whenever she had something important to say.

"Hey, Reid." She leaned back in her chair, tilting her head to the side. "You'll be careful, right?"

The sudden grimness of her tone caught him by surprise. "What do you mean?"

She paused for a moment, trying to sort out her words without wanting to offend him. "I just want to remind you that we're currently in the middle of investigating a case that involves her."

"She's only a witness," he pointed out.

"Doesn't make her any less important. Reid, when you're emotionally involved with anyone who is linked to a case we're working on, there's a high chance it can get messy. You know that."

Oh, how he knew that all too well. He knew how very unhealthy it could be, and how getting emotionally attached to someone involved in a case could lead to irrational or compromised decision-making. It could be a potential source of bias and it could make anyone put their personal feelings above what was best for the investigation. It could cloud people’s judgment. This was something that he would never recommend, something that he would urge anyone on the team to avoid doing.

So was he being rational now? Was running a background check on someone for personal reasons deemed appropriate?

Probably not. It was a very risky thing to consider, but Spencer was smart enough to understand how important it was to keep his emotions intact. The possibility of things getting out of hand would only happen if he couldn't keep it under control, which he was certain that he could, and he would never let anything stop him from doing his job.

"I'll be careful," he finally responded. "Thanks, Garcia."

"You are most definitely welcome, lover boy." She gave him a genuine smile before turning back toward her devices. "Now go and get your girl so I can go back to my work."

His body tensed. "She's not my girl."

She threw him a look that told him she didn't believe a word he said, something he was starting to question himself. He quickly shook his head and strode out of the room, completely denying Garcia's admission, because in his mind, Y/n was merely the stranger he met on one random night. She was simply the woman who ended up in his bed. She was the mysterious enigma who slipped into the night with nothing but a nod. She was the one who looked at him in disbelief at their unexpected encounter.

She was all of the things above, but she was definitely not his girl.

"You need to install a security camera."

Tapping her fingers lightly against the mug in her hands, eyes fixed on the black liquid of the freshly brewed coffee, Y/n blew out a rough breath. "Please worry about yourself."

"Or better yet, get a dog," the man across from her suggested. "Those big hound dogs that would scare people off. They can easily sense danger when they see one."

"Why would I need a dog when I have you?"

He frowned at her. "I'm being serious."

"And you think I'm not?"

He went completely still, his eyes trailing across her face. "Is that a trick question?"

She took a sip of the warm coffee, letting it calm her frustration as she pondered whether kicking him out of her own house was a better option than dragging him out through the door.

"Oliver," she muttered, her voice laced with annoyance while she carefully put down her mug on the countertop. "You have practically stationed yourself in my house, barking at anyone you think might be a potential danger."

"Y/n," he followed her gesture, leaning closer into the small space of her kitchen. "It's for your safety."

"You shouted at my mailman!"

"He took an awful lot of time talking to you."

She pinched the bridge of her nose, trying not to cause a scene in the sanctuary of her own home. She had woken up this morning, limbs tangled in her sheet and body aching from all the emotions she went through the previous night, and decided she would spend the day relaxing the tension in her nerves. Do some grocery shopping, head to the beauty salon to get a manicure and a nice haircut that was long overdue, and ravish herself with a delicious meal at the new restaurant she had been wanting to visit.

But all her plans went down the drain when she heard a loud knock the moment she opened her eyes. She found Oliver standing on her front porch, holding his trademark smile and amiable posture, before lunging at her with concern while asking a bunch of questions related to what had happened.

At first, she accepted his worry, what was she to do when a friend came to her house to make sure she was doing alright? But the longer he stayed the more she wondered whether letting him inside her home was the smartest thing to do. She knew Oliver was a very persistent person, but she wasn't aware of him being this insufferable.

"You know what would make me feel safe?" She walked out of the kitchen, expecting him to follow her, something he had been doing throughout the day. "For you to stop breathing down my neck and let me enjoy my weekend in peace."

Her plan worked, he was already hot on her heels as he watched her stalk toward the front area of her house. "I came by to check in on you."

"Since the morning, it's almost 5 PM." She tugged the door open before stepping to the side. "I'm sure I can manage on my own now—"

"Who’s that?"

Shd followed his line of sight and frowned when a black vehicle stopped right at her curb, its engine cutting off a moment later. She watched as the door wrenched open and felt her heart drop as a familiar face stared directly back. The shock of seeing someone unexpected took her by surprise, it was an incredibly powerful feeling that left her pretty shaken up and even a little bit stunned, because right on her driveway was none other than Spencer-fucking-Reid.

Seeing him in action for his job last night was enough to captivate her. But watching him in a tight FBI vest over a button-down with his sleeves rolled up, showing off firm arms and veins running along the back of his hands, mesmerized her in a way that had her weak in the knees.

Suits had become the sexiest thing she'd ever seen on a man after she saw him last night—firmly replacing uniforms, she had always been a sucker for military men... until now. The authority he held wearing that vest easily became her favorite clothing on a man. On him precisely, including the gun strapped to the side of his hip. How the sight of a dangerous weapon on him could be so attractive was beyond her.

She felt Oliver inching closer, his voice extremely low, "Do you want me to bark?"

She heard his words perfectly, but her attention was too focused on the other man as he stepped onto her porch. She wasn't questioning how he got her address—because authorities could easily search any citizen's information, right?—but she was curious why he bothered coming to her house. "What are you doing here?"

Sensing the recognition in her voice, Oliver addressed the unknown man with a hard stare. "Who are you again?"

"Special Agent Dr. Spencer Reid," he introduced himself, flashing his badge. "I have further questions for Ms. L/n regarding a certain case."

"You mean Jamison's murder?"

Spencer nodded, leveling his gaze with the man who stood too close to her for his liking. "I need to talk to her personally."

It was another way for him to urge Oliver out of her house, Y/n noted, which was something she didn't oppose. Oliver tensed beside her, throwing her a doubtful look. "Will you be fine?"

Would she be fine being left alone with someone she wanted nothing to do after everything that happened? Maybe not. But it was better than to have Oliver gluing himself in her home. "I’ll be fine. You can go, Oliver."

The two men addressed one another, and the mood suddenly turned intense. Spencer was very cautious and deliberate with each of his movements, trying to be intuitive and on alert for any possible threat or danger. But then Oliver nodded his head and smiled at him, shrugging away any tension that lingered in the air.

He turned towards her. "Call me if you need anything."

She stepped aside and let him pass, breathing out a grateful sigh as she finally watched him walk down the street.

"Boyfriend?"

"No," she quickly replied, frowning at the idea of Oliver being her partner. Then she shot Spencer a look. "Not that it's any of your business."

He probably deserved that. He nodded behind her as his eyes scanned the entrance of her house. "Can I come in?"

There was something about letting the man into her home. It was a very special and sacred place that brought peace and joy after a long day of work. Letting him into the comfort of her house meant letting him into a personal part of herself.

She opened the door further before he stepped inside, his eyes scanning every nook and corner. She cleared her throat and closed the door behind her. "So, you wanted to ask me more questions?"

There was a moment of silence as he turned around. "I actually came here to apologize." When she didn't respond, he added, "About last night."

She narrowed her eyes. "What exactly are you apologizing for?"

"It seemed we got off the wrong foot yesterday and I want to apologize if I offended you in any way."

The memory of last night's encounter flashed before her eyes; their unexpected encounter, the way he acted as if he had never held her naked, and how he wanted no one else to know their tryst, keeping it as a mere rendezvous between two strangers. There was some truth in that, but there was also another truth in her disappointment, and suddenly she was extremely tired of all these emotions.

"Last night was... it was awkward for both of us,” she decided to say. "Why don't we forget it ever happened?"

"Forget what?"

"Everything?" She crossed her arms, shifting her weight from one foot to another. "About last night, about—" She mentally winced. "About what happened the first night we met.”

She noticed the way his shoulders tensed. His eyes had narrowed almost imperceptibly as he studied her quietly in return. "Why?"

"What do you mean why?”

"Why do you want to forget that night?"

There was something unnerving about the way he looked at her. One of her hands nervously tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as she eyed him. She felt her heart rate pick up slightly—there could only be one reason he was asking this, right?

"Do you not want to forget it?"

She could see the way his cheeks were twitching, the muscles working as if he was weighing his next words. He took a step forward, cautiously scanning his eyes across her face. Staring wasn't quite the word for what he was doing. His eyes rested on her, not unblinking but slowed; yet the effect was soft and inviting instead of harsh or demanding. Perhaps it was his lips that give away his intention, like a ghost of a smile peeking through his features in the stillness of the room.

"What if I want a repeat of it?"

She is nhaled a sharp breath, her heart rate drastically climbing in her chest she could feel her pulse vibrating through her entire body. His unvoiced suggestion hung heavily in the air. She felt that first warm flood of arousal struck her, the blood in her body abruptly shifting south.

A shiver ran down her spine, goosebumps abruptly rising along her forearms. "What are you trying to say?"

His mouth pulled back into a slow smile before she watched him inch forward, carefully closing the distance between them. A moment later he was leaning towards her, reaching his hands out deliberately slow. Her eyes followed their movements, her breathing increasing as his hands found her own. Carefully, he started to pull her, moving extremely slow, as if giving her plenty of time to register what was happening and a chance for her to pull away.

But she didn't, instead, her body followed his direction, letting him tug her across the small gap separating them.

"I grew up in Las Vegas," he suddenly said, hands moving up her arms. "I was a child prodigy in a public school, and believe it or not, I've suffered worse things growing up than in my line of work now."

Her brows furrowed in confusion. "What?"

"Last night you didn't know the city I grew up in." A smile stretched across his lip. "And now you do."

The hands on her arms gripped a bit tighter, carefully urging her to move closer. The warmth radiating from his body was already driving her wild. How was it possible for one person to make her feel like she was completely losing her mind?

He was playing with fire, and she was practically a moth to a flame.

Her hands cautiously slid along his shoulders and up the length of his neck. She felt a faint rumble in his throat as her fingertips slid over the skin of it. Her eyes focused on the way he was watching her, eyes fluttering in a haze, mouth slightly parted. Biting her lip, she slipped her hand into his disheveled hair, carefully raking her fingers through the softness of it. He instantly leaned into the touch as she felt the growing need in her rising.

"Is this even allowed?" She breathed out, shuddering at the way the firmness of his vest pressed against her chest. "Fornicating with the witness?"

"It's probably not the wisest thing to do," was his honest reply.

She pulled him closer as she felt his arms settling around her waist. "Yet you still want to break the rules?"

Eyes dropping down to her mouth, his gaze lingered on her luscious lips. Gradually he leaned down towards her, his own lips parting as their breaths mingled in the small space between them. He shifted his forehead against hers, his nose lightly bumping into her own.

"Wouldn't be here if I didn't want to."

And then he closed the gap, caressing his lips just barely against hers, before thrusting himself into her open mouth, an obvious level of hungry desperation in the way he devoured her whole. He'd wanted this—wanted to taste her again ever since she stood unexpectedly in front of him. Sucking the entirety of her bottom lip into his mouth, she let out a moan. That glorious, soft, perfect, bit of flesh fit entirely into his mouth. His tongue danced along the length of it, a deep grunt coming from his throat as she melted further in his arms.

Spencer’s hands grabbed her hard by the hips as he tugged her into his body so tight she could feel his arousal pressing into her. She gasped in surprise, and he took the moment to lunge deeper into her mouth, feverishly in a flurry of tongue and teeth, his mouth only riling her further. The feeling of his tongue colliding against hers sent her into a nose dive of indescribable sensation. The longer the kiss lasted, the hotter she felt, and the warmer her skin got.

She breathed out another moan, fingers carding through the lengthier parts of his hair. The more his mouth moved against hers, the harder it was becoming to hold back. She was pouncing on him, kissing him back with as much fervor, and slightly let out a whimper when he pulled back. His mouth broke from hers, slipping down to place kisses along her jawline. She bit her lip, head tilting back just as he muttered, "Tell me how you want to be touched."

The request had her pulling back, staring at him in disbelief. "What?"

"What you said last night..." He explained, a sudden insecurity weighing in his eyes. "It got to my head."

Mouth opening and closing, she stared at him in stunned silence. Then the realization hit her on what he was implying. "I said that out of the heat of the moment," she assured him. "I was simply mad at you."

Although the way she was trying to avoid his gaze told him otherwise. "I'm a profiler. I can tell if you're lying."

She couldn't stop the amused laugh slipping through her lips. "Look," she started, slightly tugging his hair. "It wasn't that you were bad. But you could've been, I don't know—better, perhaps?"

"You do know how to bruise a man's ego," he muttered, more to himself than to her. He let out a sigh as she stared at him in amusement. "Let me be honest with you, I don't have that much experience with women, but..." he trailed off, pressing a soft kiss at the corner of her lips. "I do want to know how you want to be touched."

She could feel her amusement slipping away as she struggled to wrap her mind around what was happening, breath coming in short, her body filled with a warmth that wasn't just from her growing arousal. "You're being serious, aren't you?"

"Very." His nose intentionally bumped against hers this time, the hand on her lower back somehow holding her tighter to him. “I have three bachelor's degrees and completed three doctorate programs, learning and excelling in new subjects is engraved deep in my blood."

She playfully shoved him. "Show off."

He simply smiled, slightly pulling away. His head turned just a fraction towards her, hands sliding along her hips. “Tell me how I can be better for you.”

She stared at him, completely enthralled with the way his eyes lingered across her face—her eyes, her nose, her mouth. This was dangerous, letting herself fall deeper into this lust, but somehow it felt right. It felt incredibly right to feel his arms around her. It felt perfectly right as she snaked her arms behind her, grabbed onto his hand, and pulled him deeper into her home.

Her mind was too clouded with a desire to think clearly, and even when a little voice at the back of her head reminded her how wrong getting tangled with an authority in this situation was, she simply decided not to listen. Instead, she guided him toward her living room and walked him over to the single-seated sofa before placing her hands on his chest.

Spencer’s brows drew together, a small crease forming between them. She gently pushed him back, the back of his legs hitting the furniture as he settled himself between the soft cushions. He sat there, staring expectantly at her standing before him. Ignoring any self-conscious thoughts, she gripped the bottom of her blouse and swiftly pulled it over her head.

His eyes went wide. “What are you doing?"

A coy smile stretched across her mouth as she undid her pants, noticing the way he is eyes were focused on every little move she made. His question was left unanswered as she slipped off her jeans, kicking them off as they finally slid down her legs. Then she unclasped her bra and his mouth opened, eyes narrowing as his head tilted back, his tongue slowly sweeping along his bottom lip. He instinctively reached out, his calloused pads brushed her bare skin and a shudder ran down her spine before she slipped away from his touch.

He groaned a moment later. “Where are you going?”

She shook her head, still not answering him. She then turned around with her back facing him, and because she found pleasure in the way his eyes glazed every time she teased him, her fingers grabbed the band of her underwear, slowly sliding it down her legs. He let out a strained whimper as the evidence of her slick arousal clung onto the fabric, and it took a lot of self-control for him to stay still.

And when she finally turned around, he took in the sight of her naked form standing before him. She was as beautiful as he remembered, so perfectly made—full breasts, hips, thighs—the body of a woman as a woman was meant to be. But before he could devour her naked flesh with his eyes, she took a step back before sinking herself onto the longer couch, a wicked smile playing on her lips.

There was something compelling being the one in charge, even when she seemed to be the only one naked, wearing nothing but a taunting smile while he sat there still in the confinement of his vest. Good lord—that vest. It was doing things to her. The vest. The hair. That look. The way he was watching her wrecked her and now she was wondering how much longer she could put on a show until he came undone.

"I'm not going to tell you how I want to be touched.” Her sultry voice rang in his ears as she leaned back, her knees falling apart. And when he thought she couldn’t drive him more insane than he already was, her fingers slipped between her legs painfully slow. Goosebumps rose along his skin, a shudder of anticipation running down his body.

“I think I might have to show you."

He let out a strangled sigh.

She was going to be the death of him.

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strwberri-milk · 13 days

Note

hello! may i request for a scenario where the LADS boys confessed to the reader for the first time? if you don’t feel like doing all 3,you can just choose whichever one you want to do for ^^

Zayne is nervous. He isn't often nervous like this, not even when he was applying to medical school. Whenever he does things in his life he's always sure that no matter what he does he prepares for it to guarantee the result that he wants. However, when it comes to you he can never quite predict what he'll do around you no matter how much he tries.

He tries to plan a casual day out. He doesn't want to make it seem too out of the ordinary, worried that he'd make things too awkward if they don't go well. To him, it'd be better if the day was an average one so it wouldn't stick out too much if you rejected him.

To him, he doesn't know if you'd ever look at him as more than your friend. He feels like you've far passed the point of ever seeing him as a romantic companion and he was just lucky enough to see you as often as he currently does. He's more than fine existing in this simple life with you for as long as you'll let him.

He confesses his feelings to you over a cup of coffee. It's perfect to him. You've got the flush of laughter on your cheeks, wiping a tear away as you reminisce about a story from your shared childhood. You've never looked more beautiful to him than in this moment, talking about something silly he did and how you're so glad the two of you are still friends.

Without thinking he puts his palm up towards you on the table, not insisting you take his hand but simply offering it when you notice it there. His voice is soft, confession simple but sweet as he tells you that he's loved you from the moment the two of you met. He reassures you that if you reject him nothing will change but he doesn't expect to see you tear up and nod yes so aggressively he's worried he might have to check you for a neck injury.

He barely processes your arms wrapping around his shoulders, hugging him tightly to you as you confess that you've felt the same way for so long. Instinctually his arms wrap around your waist, trying to help you feel comfortable as he thanks you for returning his feelings for him. The two of you spend the rest of the day planning your first real date, fingers tightly intertwined as you both smile softly at each other.

The two of you were just having a casual game night at Xavier's. This was a common occurrence between the two of you and you loved it. Spending time with Xavier in a casual manner was a great way to just forget about the stress of the day. All his furniture was also incredibly comfortable which meant you always found yourself fighting against falling asleep.

It happens to be one of those times, your eyes fluttering shut as Xavier offers you a warm drink. You playfully groan at him, telling him that he's just trying to keep you for the night by enticing you with his fluffy pillows and tasty drinks. He stills for a second before asking if it'd be so bad. He wouldn't mind you spending the night if you wanted to.

You roll your eyes, knowing that you've already crashed in his room once or twice after being too exhausted to make the trek to your floor above his. However, he decides that this is a great opportunity to confess his feelings for you. You look so perfect like this to him, wrapped up and cozy on his couch. He has the sudden urge to make this more permanent, ask you to come and go as you please because knowing that you can be in his space at any time makes him happy.

He wants nothing more than to share his space with you, be able to spend all his spare time with him in quiet, domestic ways. He'll try to make you something to replenish your energy after a long day of work, you'd thank him for trying as hard as he did to make something, then he'd try to tell you not to force yourself to eat it all because he knows he didn't do the greatest job cooking it all.

He kneels down next to you on the couch, gently resting his cheek on your thigh. You look down at him in confusion, not wanting to move too much in case you scare him off. There's something about the resolute look in his eye that makes you take pause, nodding subtly to tell him to tell you whatever it is that he seems to want to tell you.

His confession is simple and to the point. He just tells you that he has feelings for you and he hopes you feel the same way. He doesn't say anything afterwards, simply just waiting for you to say something in response. You're at a loss for words, not sure what to say to him but the gentle touch of your palm against his cheek is confirmation enough for him for now.

Rafayel doesn't really know what to do now that he's decided that he needs to confess to you. He knows that his feelings for you are intense and almost all consuming, his mind constantly on you and his hands always itching to create something in your likeness or something that he thinks you'd like.

Painting is something that comes easier to him than words. He doesn't know how he'd want to confess his feelings for you. Nothing feels like it's the right way to do it - all of it is just...not enough for him. He can't accurately portray the depth of his feelings for you in such a simple manner.

You find him agonising on the floor, staring up at his ceiling with a notebook. You thought that it'd be nice to surprise him, knowing that Rafayel was upset that you were a little too busy to make it over to his place that night. Thankfully, you got out of work early and thought that it'd be fun to visit him regardless. You punch in the key code and easily make it to where he is clearly lamenting, wanting to see if you could decipher the reasoning by reading through the notebook by his head.

He immediately snatches it out of your hand, sitting straight up and pouting at you. You know that when he's like this there's nothing you can do to change his mind from whatever tantrum he's decided to throw. You decide to simply just sit next to him, waiting until he divulges whatever it is that has his mind spinning this time.

You don't expect him to immediately blame you, expecting the typical light hearted insults he throws your way. Your eyes widen in surprise when he starts flipping through the book, quietly humming to himself as he seems to be selecting something. It doesn't take him long to decide that he's frustrated with whatever it contains, rolling his eyes and giving you a cheeky smile.

He tells you that you should let him take you out a romantic dinner so he can tell you how much he cares about you. He just needs a bit of extra time to figure out how he's going to properly going to convey his feelings. You continue to stare at him, not sure what to make of his words but the slight anxiety in his eyes and shaky hands lets you know that he's being serious.

You nod gratefully, smiling at him and telling him how much you'd like it. He definitely goes all out, planning a perfect dinner that's tailored to your tastes at a place where the menu doesn't have a price. The second the two of you are seated he spins a story about how much he loves you and that his life would never be complete without you - you are his muse and he's never been more inspired than when the two of you are together.

He loves the colour that your cheeks flush, memorising the colour to recreate later. When you let him press a kiss to your knuckles and nod shyly he beams at you, promising himself in that instant that he'll make himself worth your love.

#love and deepspace x reader #lads x reader #l&ds x reader #rafayel x reader #zayne x reader #xavier x reader #lads rafayel x reader #lads zayne x reader #lads xavier x reader

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 months

Text

Dirty Work 42

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: I've had a headache every day this week. I swear I want one good day.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You sit on the sofa, the bird still firmly perched on your shoulder. Bragi shows you the twelve-string, strumming lightly between stories about his travel abroad. Laufeyson glowers as he sits in the high-backed chair recently cleared of its clutter. The stout blond is quite talkative, it makes you wonder why your boss even brought you here.

"I'll be playing at Walpurgisnacht, so you will see me tomorrow," Bragi stands and places the guitar in a stand among several other stringed instruments, "perhaps Fossegrim will come too... he likes to sneak into my bag."

The bird squawks and tilts up and down.

"Likes you too," Bragi remarks. "Not as fond as your companion, I'm afraid."

Laufeyson shifts with a huff, "shall we continue to ramble? I did come for a reason."

"I nearly forgot," Bragi declares, "you requested it so long ago I nearly forgot."

"Yes, well, I left in a hurry my last visit and could not drop by, my apologies," Laufeyson rises and dusts off his trousers.

"Right, up in my office."

They leave you without much regard. You set aside your empty cup as Fossegrim rests his beak against your hair. He is rather big, your shoulder is sore from his weight, and yet he is comforting. You sit straight and hold out your fingers shyly. He bends to touch them and dips his head. You pet his feathers, uncertain what to do with yourself.

You hear a thump from above and a grunt. You look up as the bird hops down to the cushion. You rub your hands together and stay as you are. You don't want to intrude, besides, the place is so crowded, there isn't much space to move.

At last, you hear the stairs creak and the men's voices precede their reappearance. Laufeyson holds a wrapped parcel under his arm as a shank of hair hangs past his ear, dangling along his cheek before he sweeps it back. You wonder what happened.

"Sorry about the rug," Bragi chuckles as he scratches his neck.

"Yes, not to worry," Laufeyson dismisses, "as it were," he looks at his watch, "my mother will be less impressed with our delay."

"You will send my regards," Bragi smirks crookedly.

"I will let her know we saw you," he retorts, "let us be off."

He waves you over. You say goodbye to Bragi as you cross the room and the parrot wings over your head, rustling your hair as he lands on the banister post once more. He lets out a chitter and receives a hush from his owner.

"Best go before he grows more obnoxious."

You offer a tight smile as Mr. Laufeyson opens the door and you step outside. It's dark and the moon beams down brightly. You silently descend the steps and near the car. He doesn't say a word as he unlocks the door and you climb in opposite him.

He starts the car and steers onto the street without a word. You feel as if you've done something terribly wrong. You look at your lap and drag your sweat palms over your skirt.

"We need to be very clear about things, pet," he begins as the leather squeaks beneath his grip, "tomorrow, you must stay close to me. No more breaking the rules."

"Yes, Mr. Laufeyson. I'm sorry--"

"Do you remember the rules? That I asked you to be honest with me," he hisses, "yes? I know you recall, you are brighter than you look, aren't you?" He slaps the wheel, "if you need... time, or anything, you can tell me. You must tell me otherwise... otherwise how can our arrangement work? If I am ignorant of what you require, how can I provide it? You cannot be upset that I do not know."

"I... I'm not upset," you murmur.

"Yes, but if you were upset," he exhales heavily, "then I would like to know the reason for it. I--" He stops himself and shakes his head at the road, "I am only saying, if there is some issue between us, you cannot merely run away and hide."

"I didn't--"

"Yes, yes, you were reading," he cuts in, "I do hope you enjoyed your little story."

"It won't happen again, Mr. Laufeyson," you avow.

He takes a deep breath, "that's all?"

"I... I'm not upset, I said, I only..." you mull the words on your tongue, wondering if they'll even matter. "I've never been far from home."

He nods as he slows, idling at a sign, "very well."

You accept his response as he accepts yours. Tension lingers but neither of you wants to add to the boiling stew. So you look out the window and he glares out the windshield, driving on in repressed agitation.

✨

Mr. Laufeyson leaves you alone that night, bidding you to keep the door locked and nothing else. You know for certain he's unhappy with you. You've already put a damper Walpurgisnacht and it's not even begun.

You sit in the small cone of light cast by the lamp and try to read but find the task impossible. So you tuck away Jane and her troubles and lay down to sink into your own. You don't see the next day going well at all. No better than any that have come before.

Perhaps it might be better if you found a reason not to be there. You could keep the white dress on the hanger and just stay inside where you can't do anything wrong. No one would miss you very much.

It's Frigga's celebration and you aren't an Odinson, no one would know any better. Mr. Laufeyson would be free to enjoy himself and not worry about you irritating him. That's all you seem to do.

Your eyes close heavily and you tumble down into a turbulent sleep. Dread colours your dreams and wakes you several times in the grim hues of the moonlight. The fitful night drags on into a dull morning, shining over you until it sears through your eyelids.

Walpurgisnacht. April 30th. A day that feels like a page turning.

You sit up and sift slowly through the early hours as if wading through sand. You wash and ready in the bathroom, ignoring the memories of two nights ago, the echoes of your whines, and the coiling of his touch. Now, he won't even use you. This could be it. When you leave this place, you may also be departing this life. It might just be for the better.

The event doesn't begin until the afternoon. Frigga said as much before. So you pull on a pair of tan pants and a peachy shirt. You near the door but don't flip back the lock. You should wait for a cue. For permission.

You stand at the window and watch the day bloom. The dew gleams on the leaves and petals and the air is fragrant with spring. Oddly, it does feel refreshing.

There's a soft tap, one you're not certain you heard. You turn and lean on the window ledge and hug yourself. It comes again followed by your name. Mr. Laufeyson's voice is just as even-keeled as the night before. Empty of any expression. That's worse to you than anger.

You emerge, head down, and bid him a good morning. You're met by a curt 'morning' and he ushers you down the hall. You smell bacon as you descend and the crackle of grease hisses in a pan. You walk side-by-side with Laufeyson out onto the veranda.

Odin sits, stirring a cup of coffee with a silver spoon.

"Ah, good morning," he chimes, "Joyous Walpurgisnacht!"

"Yes, happy day," Laufeyson intones and sits. You take the seat at his shoulder.

Your attention is drawn by men in work clothes out in the yard. They must be setting up for the celebration. You wonder how you should ask to excuse yourself from the event. You might pretend to be unwell. You don't entirely feel great.

"Happy Walpurgisnacht!" A thunderous boom makes you jump and grab Laufeyson's arm. He merely groans as Thor approaches and drags out a chair, dropping down with a sigh, "father, brother... lady, isn't it a wonderful morning?"

"Son," Odin squints at his son's open shirt, his chest shamelessly bare to the sunlight.

"Mmm, coffee," Thor pours from the carafe then adds a handful of sugar cubs to his cup. Laufeyson helps himself to tea before offering you some with a twitch of the spout. You accept with a nod and a please.

"Coffeeeeee," an echo drawls in the air as Hela strides in, chewing a strip of bacon absconded from the kitchen.

"Ghostly as ever, sister," Thor guffaws.

"Ugh, must you?" She snarls as she slumps into a chair, "ew, do those buttons not work?"

Thor smiles as he looks down at his torso, "it's warm."

"Or maybe it's the hot air stuck in your head," she retorts.

"Children," Odin rebuffs, "please, it is a holiday. Let's try to get along."

Laufeyson says nothing as he sips from his tea. You peek at him, finding his eyes narrowly set on his father. Another twinge pinches in your chest. You hope you haven't made things worse between them.

"Oh, we are all here already," Frigga flutters in, canary fabric swishing around her, "wonderful."

"Wife," Odin outstretches an arm and she goes to give him a kiss on the cheek.

"Mother," the siblings murmur in unison as you eke out her name.

"We will begin breakfast soon, I just checked with the staff, it is almost ready, but first," she pokes her elegant nail in the air, "there is one matter I need attend to. It won't take very long at all."

She smiles at Odin as he returns the sweet expression, then her eyes meet yours. Her cheeks pinken just a little. She sweeps away and disappears through the open doors. You hear her trill as she speaks to the staff.

"She is up to something," Hela slithers.

Laufeyson hums in agreement.

"Father," Thor peers over at Odin as he brushes his fingertips over his beard.

Odin shrugs, "I haven't any idea."

"Liar," Hela accuses, "you are not so sly as you think."

"I swear--"

"He definitely knows," Thor insists, "Loki, doesn't he? You see it, can't you?"

"I suppose..." Laufeyson squints and lets his voice dissolve into nothing.

"Here we go..." you hear Frigga chime before she appears again, "happy birthday to you..."

The song begins as two maids carry between them a double-tiered cake decorated with perfect white dollops of icing topped with raspberries. Your stomach gurgles and your chest racks as you sit up, caught in headlights as Thor and Odin join in on the melody but Hela and Laufeyson merely lean forward curiously. You gulp and look down at your lap.

As Frigga leads the chorus into your name, your shoulders slope and you turn your face away, tears stinging your eyes. How could she know? As nice as it all is, it's too much. You don't deserve any of this.

"Birthday..." you hear Laufeyson whisper quizzically.

You brace the armrests and push yourself to your feet as the song ends and the cakes placed before you. Your lips tremble as you look around the table. You can barely squeak out your apology before you flee, Frigga's hand glancing off yours as she tries to stop you.

You hurry away from the veranda, hurtling up the path blindly. You plunge into the brush and around the curving trails, retracing the same route Odin led you the day before. You clamour up to the gazebo and hide within, collapsing onto a bench as you fold over and shield your head.

Why would she do it? You don't matter! It's all too much. You don't want to pretend anymore. You don't want to act like you belong. You want them to let you go. You want Laufeyson to just do it already and throw you away.

You sit, bent over, weak and shaking, just breathing, paralysed. You hunch amid the songs of birds and the rippling of water. You can't move. You just want to stay and never come out.

A scuff makes you flinch. You lift your head to look over as a shadow steps into the archway. You raise yourself up straight and face Mr. Laufeyson.

"I didn't know it's your birthday," he says.

You don't say anything. Why would you tell him? Why would he care?

He lowers his chin, sliding his hands into his pockets as he steps into the stone structure, "if I'd known--"

"It doesn't matter," you say, "it's just another day."

"Mm, well..." he begins in a fragile tone, "I wouldn't agree. Birthdays are special..."

"Not mine," you pout.

His cheek ticks and bows his head, nodding as he thinks, "but... my mother did try to make it special..." he chews on his lip as he looks at you, "she's worried."

"She shouldn't care so much. She isn't my mother."

"But she is a good mother," he argues, "and she only wanted to include you."

"And I'm just as ungrateful as my father said," you sniff, "I'm sure you'd agree."

"I don't."

"Sure. It's why you left me alone all night. It's why you were so mad that I dare read a book. I know, Mr. Laufeyson, I know."

"Know what?"

You huff and cross your arms.

"I know better," you stand and jut your chin out. "I broke the rules again, I'm sorry."

"The rules... that isn't-- why are you being like this?"

"Like what?" You challenge.

"Please, I didn't come to lecture me--"

"I know the rules. I remember. I will be good," you drop your arms and force your spine straight, "I will apologise to Frigga and thank her. You're right. You're always right. I was wrong."

You go to step past him and he catches your arm, pulling you to face him, "stop."

"Mr. Laufeyson, is that not what you want? For me to be good? I'm sorry I made you look bad. I only... was surprised," you carefully measure your voice and force a smile, "tell me what to do, Mr. Laufeyson and I will obey."

His brows slant and he swallows tightly. He squeezes your wrist then releases you, "apologise," he breathes, "say thank you."

"Yes, Mr. Laufeyson," you reply and march through the door, "whatever you wish."

You keep your gait steady and set. He follows behind you and catches up. You return to the veranda in curdling silence. As the rest look up at you, you gather what's left of your strength.

"I'm sorry," you say, "I was only surprised and I... panicked."

"Dear, it's okay, I should've warned you," Frigga coos.

"I really appreciate it," you sit as Laufeyson pulls out your chair, "really..." you look at the pink cake, "I never had a birthday cake before."

As the words escape, you clamp your lips shut. It's only the silence that makes you realise how pathetic that must sound. You put your chin down and try to hide your embarrassment.

"Of course, dear," Frigga fills the dead air, "would you like to cut the first piece?”

#loki #dark loki #dark!loki #loki x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #au #maid au #series #dirty work #mcu #marvel #avengers #thor

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suzukiblu · 9 months

Text

more of the one where Clark panic-adopts his teenage clones, yes including the supervillain one:

"I don't know why people keep doing this," Superman sighs as they stop in the air high above the cloud cover between them and the Lyon lab.

"Stealing your DNA?" Match asks.

"Kidnapping a sixteen year-old," Superman says like he thinks it's some kind of correction. Match frowns.

"Superboy is two," he says. And closer to physiologically eighteen at this point, even accounting for the temporary stall in his aging process. Definitely not sixteen by either count, though.

"I–well, yes," Superman says uncomfortably. "But you know what I mean."

Match doesn't, actually.

"It won't be difficult to crack the lab," he says instead of admitting that. "Security won't be prepared for an external assault from your full powerset."

"Because they think I wouldn't come," Superman says, sounding resigned.

"Yes," Match confirms.

"Because of your reports?" Superman says.

"Yes," Match says. "And you never did before, either."

Superman frowns, sparing him a confused glance.

"Why would I have come before Superboy was even here?" he asks.

"I was here," Match says.

Superman's frown deepens. He looks over at him again. Match isn't sure why; the lab is the current concern.

Maybe he assumes that he's lying about the security. Or that he's going to tell the Agenda that he's here. Those would both be fair assumptions.

"The Agenda thought I might come for you?" Superman says.

"The theory was presented, initially," Match says. "But you didn't, so external security in the newer labs is less intensive."

"Why did they think I'd do that?" Superman asks.

"Superboy and I only exist because of you," Match says. "And the Agenda knew he'd reported my existence to you."

"I wasn't actually involved in either of your creations, though," Superman says, still frowning. "My DNA was stolen."

"Yes," Match agrees, tilting his head. Did Superman think he didn't know that? "Because you made your DNA valuable."

"What?" Superman frowns at him again.

"Your DNA was stolen because it was valuable," Match clarifies. "Because you demonstrated it was valuable. You don't use science or tricks or magic or owe any gods or countries or labs any kind of allegiance. You just exist on this planet and you're the most powerful thing on it just because you're here. You can do anything you want, whenever you want, and no one else can stop you. Not even if they kill you."

Superman doesn't say anything.

"And you told everyone that," Match continues. "You told everyone that you were the most powerful thing on this planet just because of your very valuable DNA and the fact that we happen to be revolving around a yellow sun. That you can't even die. That you'll always do whatever you think needs done, no matter what anyone else thinks or who tries to stop you from doing it."

Superman still doesn't say anything.

"So Superboy and I only exist because of you," Match finishes, and then looks back down at the lab below through the cloud cover. Thirteen is down there right now. Or he should be, at least.

Maybe he's already escaped.

That's a very Thirteen kind of thing to do, after all.

"That's how you feel?" Superman asks, all careful-voiced again.

"That's what I know," Match corrects. "Would you prefer to go straight in or should I provide a distraction first?"

". . . I'll be the distraction," Superman says, still watching him with an absolutely indecipherable expression that Match doesn't understand the purpose of. "Find Superboy and say my name when you do. Then I'll get you both out."

"The Agenda will want me back, though," Match says with a frown, not understanding.

"Do you want to stay with them?" Superman asks.

Match has absolutely no idea how Superman can even ask him that. It's not a choice if he stays with the Agenda.

It's never been a choice.

"They made me," he says. "They own me."

"That isn't true," Superman says. "You don't have to stay with them just because they made you. Not if you don't want to. Superboy didn't stay with the people who made him, did he?"

". . . Superboy lives at Cadmus," Match says, more than a little confused by that statement. "He works for Cadmus. He's a field agent."

"He–what?" Superman blinks.

"Did you not know that?" Match asks. That really seems like something Superman should've known. Especially since it's something the Agenda knows. "They're under new management. But it's still Cadmus."

"I–he's still there? I thought that was just . . . why would he still be there?" Superman asks, looking troubled.

Match really, really doesn't understand Superman as a person.

"Because he requires food, shelter, and financial support," he ticks off on his fingers. "Also presumably other resources. And he has no legal identity or legal guardian to either obtain or provide said resources. Therefore: Cadmus."

Therefore: the Agenda.

It really doesn't seem like something that should need explained, to him.

Superman looks at him for a very long moment.

"Find Superboy," he says, finally. "Then say my name."

"Understood," Match says.

#dc match #clark kent #kon el #superboy #superfamily #superman #rinfic #long post #wip: clark panic-adopts his teenage clones

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paradisedumpling · 4 months

Text

The Unbitten Pomegranate

_________________________________________

TROPE: GoddessOfDeath!Karina x GoddessOfLife!Reader; lil bit of angst; some fluff; Greek Mythology; this is more character focused than couple focused iykwim

SYNOPSIS: spring has come, and with it, feelings resurfaced in the hearts of two very different but so similar beings

CONTENT WARNING: descriptions of death (no major characters though); feelings of loneliness; underworld mentioned a bit often; Hades and Persephone are hinted to have/had a relationship; weird grammar; I'm so sleepy I definitely forgot some stuff I'm sorry guys

A/N¹: I wrote this in 2021 in another language and just google translated it, so if the grammar is all weird I'm so sorry 😭

A/N²: I would also just like to adress that I wrote this at 16 years of age and my view of Hades and Persephone's relationship was very romanticized at the time, and I understand today (at 19) that it definitely isn't like that. The only thing hinted here is that Karina is their daughter and I totally understand if you're uncomfortable reading it, there's no problem skipping this, always care for your health first no matter what.

_________________________________________

It's spring again. Flowers bloom, lovers enjoy the serene climate, and animals wake up from their long hibernation. The best time of the year, many would say. For most people, maybe it is, but not for her.

For her, all spring brings are those who didn't survive the winter. Those who are allergic to pollen, who do not have much immune defense in the beloved season. The withered flowers, discarded after being gifted in numbers due to the lack of something more sentimental in a supposed special date. And everything else that spring cannot have.

Spring is nothing more than a pretty cover for a long-damaged book. Maybe it's her ignorance. She has never experienced the beauty that many say spring possess, just all the bad things that every season brings. She can't see so much beauty in something that causes so many problems. But she can't help but long to feel that feeling one day, if it even exists.

So, yes, it must be her ignorance that prevents her from seeing a beautiful story behind the pretty cover.

Either way, torn or newly processed pages, it doesn't matter. It will never matter. Spring is something distant, just like any other season, or living thing. Life and beauty are not something you find easily in the world she lives in. Unless it's something from outside, something that shouldn't be there, everything is cold, dark, vulgar and even tenebrous, on some days.

Something beautiful and full of life like spring is just a distant desire, a longing for something you never had or will never have again, a heartache you will never overcome.

There is no reason to ponder on something as distant as spring, so why is she here Standing at the passage that leads the underworld to the overworld, and vice versa. Thinking about the irrelevance of something she never had, never wanted.

Why did she suddenly care so much about the world above her own? A world that only holds grudges against her home, her family, her work. A world that doesn't deserve a second of her thought.

So why are she still here? Standing. Looking. Pondering. Wishing.

Maybe she didn't want to know at that moment. She didn't want to admit what she feared would be the answer to her questions.

It wasn't worth it anyway. Nothing would happen, as usual. Nothing happens. Nothing good, at least. It never happened and it will never happen. There is no reason to create hope that something good would happen.

Feelings like hope only bring more pain and she had no time for stupid feelings like this.

She had no time to feel anything but apathy toward the souls that roam her world and the monsters imprisoned in her land by someone who lied to himself about having power over everyone and everything.

She didn't have time for silly feelings and stupid thoughts.

And much less time to stay here, standing, thinking about meaningless things like the stupid spring and the stupid–

Maybe she's going too far. She shouldn't let her stress take over her reason. Her father always told her that the best way to release stress was to throw sinners into a river of lava. It's not the best option, but it's still viable.

On the other hand, her mother, a much wiser and calmer woman, always said that the best method was to take a deep breath and ask someone experienced for advice.

She could talk to her mother about this, she had always been the best at giving advice.

But her mother wasn't here. She was there, enjoying the wonders of spring, along with all the joys of the world above and that damned red hair that wouldn't leave her head, and–

"Miss?"

Yes, she didn't have time. She didn't have time because she had important tasks that couldn't be postponed. The arrival of spring also meant a new year, a new cycle. And like all other cycles, it was accompanied by problems that could only be solved by her.

She had work to do, and she didn't have time to dwell on the irrelevance of spring. Or the absence of her mother. Or those red locks that sometimes obstructed the beautiful features that her hope carried.

She didn't have time.

So she turned around and followed the butler to where her duties called. At least then she could forget. She didn't have to question it, much less deny it. She didn't have to wish.

Spring wasn't important, nor were her disjointed feelings.

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

It's spring again. Flowers bloom, lovers enjoy the serene climate, and animals wake up from their long hibernation. The best time of the year, if anyone asked you.

Not that they needed to.

If the smile on your face and the laughter you let out as you ran through the woods were nothing more than clear indications of your satisfaction with the arrival of spring.

Everything was so beautiful, so bright, so full of life. You couldn't think of a single soul who didn't like spring. Not even those who are gone and now inhabit the underworld.

Everyone has experienced spring, there's no way not to love it.

Everything was perfect, except one thing; the absence of those deep eyes.

You don't remember the first time you noticed them, but you know that since then, you've never forgotten them. It was as if you were drawn to them, that if you watched them for a long period of time you would forget the world around you.

When was the last time you had seen those captivating eyes? Two or three decades ago? Perhaps even a century has passed. So much time and you still hadn't forgotten that gaze; maybe you were getting sick.

With each passing season, you looked forward to the opportunity to see her again. You didn't even know the name of the one with such captivating eyes, but you were determined to find out.

It couldn't be difficult, right? The underworld doesn't have that many Gods and deities, so it shouldn't be a difficult mission.

Determined, you ran to the end of the hill, jumping over trunks and roots with grace, leaving a path of flowers where you feet touched.

Perhaps your mother knew something about those of the underworld. You could ask your uncle too. For all you knew, he had friends down there.

"Mother!" You ran into the temple, being careful not to bump into any of the animals on the way. "Mother!" You saw your mother in the garden, a Swallow on her finger, while she took care of its wing, which appeared to be injured. Both the bird and your mother looked at you in surprise at your sudden appearance. "Are you busy?" You stopped running, rubbing your hands behind your back in embarrassment, taking a few steps back to give your mother and the animal space. "I can come back another time, no problem."

"It isn't necessary. We were already finishing here." Your mother caressed the bird's beak, walking to a tree and leaving it on one of the low branches. Turning around, your mother walked towards you with a welcoming smile. "What's the curiosity of the moment, dear? You never come like this unless you have something to ask me." Your mother laughed, guiding you to the garden behind the temple. "So, what do you want to know?"

"I want to know about the Gods of the underworld." Your mother stopped walking, looking at you as if you had grown three heads. Well, you had never asked about this subject before. Maybe if you explained your reasoning, she would relax. "It's just... Well... There's this Goddess and–"

"You didn't eat any fruit that these people offered you, right?" The serious tone in her voice made you look at you mother in surprise. It was rare that your mother used that tone of voice directed at you. "Honey, if they're bothering you, just tell me and I'll sort it out quickly. They will see what happens for messing with my baby." The bow and arrow materialized in the hand of the Goddess, who had a determined and angry expression.

"What? No! Mother!" You moved in front of your mother, one hand on her right shoulder and the other holding her left wrist, avoiding that she raised the bow in the air. "No one is bothering me, much less offering me fruits from the underworld. Don't worry." Your mother looked at you cautiously, analyzing you for any signs of lies.

After a while, she finally relaxed, the bow and arrow dematerializing from her hands.

"Why are you curious about that place so suddenly?" She asked, resuming her walking and looking at you curiously. "Don't you know enough? Everything in that place is horrible, as is every being that inhabits it. From the King of the Underworld, to his heirs, his servants, the other Gods and all those monsters that are sparsely contained in an open field. What kind of idea is that?! To leave all these life-destroying monsters with so much comfort and the pleasure of free mobility? That man must be out of his mind if he thinks the best idea is to let those atrocities be free like that."

You were a little afraid by the way your mother talked about the underworld. You knew it wasn't the ideal place, but it wasn't that bad. It can not be. If the Goddess of Spring herself chose to live there, it shouldn't be so bad.

And those black eyes that captivated your attention. You never saw any evil in them.

Only melancholy, but never evil.

You couldn't imagine them carrying that evil fire that everyone says the Gods of the underworld have by nature.

"I just- I was just curious." You replied, not wishing to hear any more disgust from your mother. "I was wondering, with the end of winter, that many of the animals that didn't survive are there now. I was just curious about what happens once you die and go there, nothing more. I'm sorry if I offended you somehow."

"Oh, honey. You didn't offend me." You mother placed a hand on your cheek. "But I don't want to hear any more about this matter. We don't know if it attracts them." Your mother shook her head, as if shaking off the thoughts. "And don't speak about these insensitive subjects around the animals. They might become sad." She looked around, noticing some of the animals that visited the temple looking at the two of you curiously.

The Swallow from before was looking at you with an intimidating intensity.

"I'm sorry again." Smiling, you adjusted your dress and put your hair back. "I better go now, I still have to check how the animals to the south are doing. I also have to see the farmers' crops in the plains. So I still have a lot to do."

"Yes. I'm also very busy." Your mother called two deers with her hand, which were probably waiting to be attended to before you got there. "Don't come back late, alright?"

With a final nod of your head, your went on your way out of the temple, still thinking about the dark-eyed Goddess who has been occupying your mind for so long.

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

The grand Mount Olympus, where the greatest Gods in the world are found. The most beautiful and purest place in the world, where everything is perfect and everyone treats you with affection and respect; or so they say.

For her, Mount Olympus was just a place where several ignorant and selfish people lived, too busy filling their own egos to think about anything similar to 'affection and respect'.

If someone one day were to gain the privilege, or the misfortune, of being called to this place, you can be assured that it was only for the selfishness and egotism of the God who called upon you.

Luckily for her, she didn't have to come to Olympus often. A meeting her father couldn't attend once in a century was better than coming here every week.

But that didn't mean she liked coming here.

Every word her uncle spoke was a sigh that left her mouth. She was bored and starting to get irritated with the aimless conversation.

She felt sorry for her father for having to actively participate in these meetings. Most of the time they didn't discuss anything related to the underworld, but he still had to come. She understood why he spent so much time in the lava river when he returned home.

At least there was one thing she tolerated in all of this; The Goddess with red hair.

You seemed so calm, occasionally giving opinions, smiling at everyone, looking at her....

Looking at her?! Were you looking at her?!

Disbelieved, she turned her gaze, trying to calm her heart and ease her embarrassment, opting to touch her glass full of wine, which had not been touched until this moment.

After a while, she looked again, realizing that you were still looking at her. This time, giving her a smile when you saw her return your gaze.

She didn't know what to do, she was never caught looking at the you, much less interacted with you.

Not wanting to ignore you, she waved her hand discreetly and turned her gaze away again, not wanting to attract the attention of the other Gods.

She wasn't going crazy, she couldn't. She ignored those feelings for so long, occupying herself with her work in the underworld and the certainty that you hated her, just like all the other Gods.

So why were you and your beautiful red hair looking and smiling at her at that moment?

She didn't want to think about the reasons at that moment, and she had never been so relieved when her uncle announced a break in the meeting, which should have been going on for hours.

Rising from her father's throne, she silently left the meeting hall and went to the garden of Olympus, probably the only truly beautiful and pure thing in that entire place.

Walking along the path at the entrance to the garden, she saw a Swallow near the carnation flowerbed. Approaching cautiously, but keeping a reasonable distance from the bird, she crouched down and admired the animal, a small smile on her face.

The times she came to the garden of Mount Olympus were one of the few moments when she could witness life, not just the remains of it. One of the few moments she could forget who she was.

"I was hoping I'd find you here." She knew that voice. If it were anyone else, she would eternally curse them for interrupting her moment, but not you.

Sighing, she looked at the Swallow one last time, as if hoping that the animal would enlighten her mind with ideas to escape that situation. She didn't know if she was ready to face the owner of red hair she long admired.

Deciding to accept that this time there was no escaping, she turned around, finally facing the one who inhabited her mind more than she would like to admit.

"I... I would like to talk." She looked behind you, not wanting any of the other Gods to see the two of you together. She didn't want to cause any problems. "If you want of course." You turned your gaze away, red flowers springing around you, giving away your shyness.

That sight got a small laugh out of her, earning a confused look from you.

"Your mother wouldn't like to see you with me. Or none of the others, for that matter." She turned to watch the flowers again.

She was afraid of being distracted by the beauty of the Goddess in front of her, she didn't want to cause herself any embarrassment.

"What would you like to talk about? I can't imagine what a Goddess of life could want with a Goddess of death." She looked at the your red hair from the corner of her eye. "If you wish to know how to bring someone back to the world of the living, I am afraid that there is no way to do such a thing." When you didn't immediately respond, she knew she never had a chance.

She should never have had hoped. You must hate her, just as everyone else despises her.

"What is your favorite animal?" What? "I imagine there shouldn't be many in the underworld, but there must be some animal that pleases you the most."

Maybe she was really going crazy. No one from Olympus ever asked her anything personal, she were certainly hearing things.

But you curiously looked at her, waiting for her answer, as you slowly sat down next to her.

Turning her head away in embarrassment, she replied. "I like sea animals. I never actually got to see the sea, so I find them fascinating. But I don't have any specific ones. There aren't many books on the subject at home and I don't want to have favorites before I have greater knowledge about the area." When she looked at you again, you had a big smile on your face. "What about you? I mean, if you have one. I don't think the Life and Fauna Goddess has a favorite animal."

You laughed, approaching her and leaning in to say something in her ear.

"Don't let the others hear." You looked at the Swallow, who was watching the two of you curiously. "But I have a weak spot when it comes to beavers. They are so kind." The two of you shared a laugh, falling into a comfortable silence soon after, watching the bird try to take one of the carnations from the flowerbed in its beak. "Y/n." You extended your hand, giving her the sweetest and most sincere smile she had ever received in her entire existence, your gracious red locks flowing with the wind making the scene the most beautiful sight she had ever seen.

"Karina." She smiled back. It was a strange act, she wasn't used to it, but it wasn't undesirable. "Maybe we should head back." She looked at the entrance to the garden, being able to hear some of the other Gods, who should be returning to the meeting hall at the moment. "We can finish this conversation another time." She stood up, extending her hand to help you get up.

"Will there be another time? Cool." She heard you mumble, containing her laughter at it. "Yeah, at another time." The bird took flight, taking two carnation flowers with it. "It really must be time to go back." You two exchanged one last smile, starting the walk back to the boring meeting room.

But maybe it wouldn't be so tedious anymore. Perhaps she would accompany her father to Olympus more often.

And maybe she could wish. Maybe she could admire her hope outside of her memories.

And maybe, just maybe, Karina was beginning to understand the mysterious beauty of spring.

_________________________________________

a/n: y'all I know the moodboard is terrible but I'm so tired and sleepy I can barely see my phone screen, I'll fix it tomorrow I promise 🙏

thank you for reading!! <3

#aespa x reader #aespa x fem reader #aespa karina #karina x reader #yoo jimin x reader #aespa karina x reader

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shadowskulls-blog · 4 months

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Carmilla Carmine x (gn or fem, doesnt matter) reader smut. Reader is vaggie's height. The two are already dating and one day, reader is being a bit of a brat, so carmilla pins them to the wall with her legs because why bend down when she can just do the splits against a wall and hold someone in place like that. However, it just makes readers brattiness go up and they kiss her thigh, long story short they eat her out while she's doing the splits standing uptight-

Only if you wanna write this, of course. But I think it's a funny and silly idea

Ohhhhhh. Yes... but yeah. It's gonna be a GN, so, yeah. I haven't written a lot of brat stuff, but I hope this is a good first try. I usually do smug, but hey, I will do the best I can. But my guess is they're like Velvett

*smut*

Carmilla Carmine x GN reader

"Carmilla, come on! Can you just tell me the reason why you wanted to keep this stuff secret!?" You ask loudly as you couldn't understand why keeping something as angels can be killed a secret! We could finally win against those angels and she wants to keep it in the dark!?

Carmilla sighed as she pinched her nose. You walked behind her until you both entered your shared room. With you closing the door behind you.

"I will not let this news get out and possibly put everyone into war." Carmilla said as she turned around, looking down at you. Seeing as you were still pissed.

"Isn't that what you sell guns for? I get it ain't war, war, but. It's fights and everything. You have guns that can kill demon royalty for Satan's sake! That's war, ain't it?!" You shouted at Carmilla, walking up as you kicked a stoll out from the vanity, then kicked it in front of you. walking on top of it to be at a sum what eye level with her.

"While angels, the monsters that could have killed you or our daughters! You didn't want the fact that their own weapons could kill them. For fucks sake. I would have told people!" You said as Carmilla glared down at you for a moment but walked away as you followed her until she was facing the wall with a portrait of her and her daughters. She noticed how you said "our daughters"

"Then what would happen? We all go into war. A massive war, if that happens, do you have any idea how many we could lose? We could lose over lords. People we love. I could lose my daughter's and you along with it! We both know how fights go, I will not have war come down and kill every last one of us!" Carmilla explained as she turned around and looked down at you. She will not have this be brought down and have people killed, and during extermination. anyone could be killed!

She will lot let her friends, daughters, or you die because of something she did that brought war up. She holds everyone she loves dear to her. If she lost you or her daughters, it would mean the end of the world for her

"But with the weapons that can kill them, we have a chance! By my logic, it seems like you want people to die -" you shouted back, but Carmilla had finally had enough of you, kicking you against the wall and slamming her leg up above you. You groaned a bit as you looked up at Carmilla, the shadows making her red eyes glow as she stared down at you

"You know that isn't true. You have known me for years, and you know I'm not that type of person. If anyone should know that it's you! And I will not let war be brought down on us. If you're too dense to understand that..." Carmilla said as you breathed heavy, you moved your left hand up to gently crease her thigh. Feeling the angelic steel along with her clothing

Carmilla stopped talking as she looked down at you, wondering what you were doing. You laughed a bit as you looked back up at her, leaning your head a bit to the side

"I get it. But...didn't think I fired you up enough to pin me with your legs..." you said with a smirk as you leaned your head against her inner thigh, giving it a kiss as you smiled against her clothing.

Carmilla's eyes widened slightly as she couldn't understand this sudden change. One minute ago, you two were fighting now. You're getting turned on by being pinned to the wall by her leg...

"If anything, I can tell this is bringing stress on you," you said as your hand slid up going from the her thigh to her pussy. Your sharp nails set on her clothing, ready to tare it off as you looked up at her with a smirk

"What are you doing?" Carmilla asked as she looked down at you in confusion with her blushing a bit. Your fingers rubbed against her clothed pussy as you continued to smirk up at her

"I'm just saying. You've been stressed out, and...your teasing me by putting your legs in my face." You said as you dug your nails into her clothing, taring away the clothes that covered her pussy.

Carmilla groaned as she felt the warm air hit her now unclothed pussy, as you dropped the fabric to the ground. You chuckled a bit as you saw she was a bit wet.

"See. You like this as much as me..." you chuckled as your fingers went to go crease her wet flaps gently, your fingers getting wet by the touch as you heard Carmilla moan by your touch. Her leg tensed up against your body as she relaxed again.

You smirked wider as you shoved your ring and middle finger into Carmilla, her moans getting louder as her hand went on the wall for support. her fingertips gripped onto the wall. You noticed that. You were always amazed at how she could even stand in those shoes in the first place but...

"I'm gonna make sure you lose your balance in those shoes," you said as you connected your mouth to Carmilla's pussy, your fingers still inside of her as you moved your fingers inside of her. Your tongue hitting against her clit slowly

Moans filled the room as Carmilla's free hand dug into the leg that was supporting her up, her moans and groans getting louder as she felt your tongue run across her clit as your fingers rubbed inside of her.

"I don't get... how you could go from a brat...to this, " Carmilla said, stopping so she didn't moan out loud. You smiled as you opened your mouth, licking your lips as you looked up at her. Seeing her glowing red eyes and flushed face as sweat started to form around her face.

"Like I said. Tease me with your legs, I'll take it.." you said with a smirk as you went back to eating out Carmilla, your tongue hitting her clit faster as you twisted your fingers around, spreading them every two seconds as Carmilla's moaned became louder a more rough. Making her leg push more against you

You moaned into her as your fingers began pumping in and out of her. Your tongue pushing into her wet folds as you sucked and kissed, tasting her bit of her as your fingers kept pumping in and out, pushing further up each time.

Until you pumped in again, hearing Carmilla moan out louder and her back arch as her nails clawed into the wall.

"Damnit!... right there!" Carmilla moaned out as her hands kept clawing at the wall, her back arching as you kept going. Your fingers worked around her spot as you moaned into her. Your fingers then pushed down into her as that was enough to make her reach her limit

Carmilla then used her free hand to put on your back, making sure you wouldn't pull away. her fingers clawing into your back as she yelled out in pleasure, her climax hitting her as she came around your fingers with your tongue being coated in her cum.

Carmilla breathed out in moans as she pushed her right hand into the wall making sure not to lose her balance as she opened her eyes to look down at you. Seeing you pull away as you breathed heavy with a groan escaping your lips as your back muscles tensed, feeling Carmilla's claws in your back

Carmilla pulled her hand away gently as your blood was on her fingers. You gasped as you felt her claws leave. You licked your lips as you chuckled a bit as Carmilla tried to stand without shaking.

"I got you tall, Mama." You said as you put your hands on her hips, giving her support as you walked her to the bed. Setting her down as she breathed heavy. Taking a minute to catch her breath as she looked at you with an annoyed glare.

"Sometimes you annoy me," Carmilla said with a groan as she looked down at you. You only smiled as you chuckled a bit

"But you love me~" you said as you smiled, walking up to Carmilla and smiling. Carmilla sighed but smiled as. It was true.

Well, since it's valentines Day. Happy valentines Day special.

#hazbin hotel #carmilla carmine #carmilla carmine x reader #carmilla carmine x fem reader

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sports-on-sundays · 2 months

Note

hii <3 i have a request for an hector fort one shot. basically he has a crush/is in love with reader but shes few years older than him… she doesnt want to admit her feelings for him because she doesnt date younger boys and thinks it isn’t right. in then end hector makes her realize her feelings or sth like that . thank you if youre going to write this, take Your time anyway <3 have a nice day/evening idk whats Your time zone lol !!

it isn't right / Héctor Fort

Summary: Héctor x adult!female!Barcelona videographer!reader - Description above.

Warnings: blood

Requested?: Yes.

Author's Note: I decided at the end, his birthday passes, just because that felt like it should happen, so that they're both adults. Other than that, thank you.

Héctor kind of refuses to call it a crush.

Because a crush sounds too immature. It sounds like just a little kid crush, that doesn't really matter.

But it does matter, and it's more than just a crush.

Héctor is sure he really does love you.

"Mate, but there's no way," Marc comments, crossing his arms as he walks onto the training pitch with Héctor. "She's, like, so much older than you."

"Not really," Héctor comments in annoyance.

"Do you know how old she is?"

"Yeah!"

"How?"

Héctor glares, embarrassed. "I asked her."

"You did? When? And what did she say?" Marc asks, eyebrows shooting up.

"I don't know... A couple weeks ago. She just told me, and said she just had her birthday."

"Oh. So...? How old is she?"

Héctor glances at his football boots. "Twenty-one."

"Pwoah! Yeah, and you're seventeen!"

"Four years! It's only four years!"

"What year would that be? She was born in 2002? At least she's not from the 90's... Then she'd be really old."

"Yeah, because twenty-five or twenty-six is really old, right?" Héctor comments in disbelief at his teammate.

"Just saying," Marc shrugs. "Either way, you should go for girls your age. You've got no chance with her. She's too pretty, anyway."

"You're saying I'm not good looking?!"

Marc grins. "You're putting words in my mouth!"

"Well, I'll prove you wrong. I'll make her like me. You'll see. I'm going to go talk to her right now."

"Alright. If you say so," Marc comments with an eye roll as he continues walking.

So you look up from your camera to see Héctor approaching you. You smile. You've had a few short conversations with him, and you have to admit, he's sweet. "Hey, Héctor."

He smiles back, blushing a little.

You're not stupid. You've picked up that he's got a little crush on you.

"Hey, Y/n," he says, putting his hand on your shoulder. You glance to it, but pay that no mind as he continues, "How are you?"

"Good, and you?"

"Good... I... can I ask you something?"

You chuckle. "Shoot, Héctor."

"Do you.. Would you say I'm, like, good looking?"

You grin a little. "I think most football players are."

"But, like, me. Specifically...?" he pushes.

You smile. "You're alright." You really do like Héctor. You think he's sweet, and if he were a bit older, he's definitely the type of guy you could see yourself falling for.

But he's just...

He's still so young. You don't even let yourself consider those feelings, because you know that would be wrong. He's not even an adult yet.

"Just alright?" he leans closer.

"Do you want me to tell you you're handsome?"

"I want you to be honest," he grins.

"Why do you think I'm not being honest?" you inquire, turning back to your camera. His hand remains on your shoulder.

"I don't know..."

"Alright, Héctor. You're handsome."

"You're not just saying that?"

"No, I'm not," you respond casually. He remains there awkwardly, just standing there, so you look up at him, meeting his eyes, and say, "Anything else I can do for you?"

"Uh, date me?" he suddenly blurts.

You snort, but feel your face heat a bit. "You're basically twelve. Ew."

"I'm seventeen! And you just turned twenty-one, anyway! You're not that much older."

"So someone is just a little stuck on me," you state.

"So what?" he says in annoyance.

You sigh, your eyes softening. "Listen, Héctor. I like you a lot. You're sweet, and kind. But I simply can't date a seventeen-year-old. That goes against my conscience. It's not right. We can be friends, but that's it."

He grins, but there's still a bit of disappointment in his eyes. "I mean, hey. Friends is better than nothing... right?"

"Right," you smile. "Now, you better get to training. You're not paid to talk to me."

He rolls his eyes but runs off to do just that.

"Wow, Héctor... This is so nice..." you say softly as you look around the restaurant you sit in. You and Héctor have been hanging out more, going out places, but every single time, you're sure to remind him it's not a date.

"I figured you'd like it here," Héctor says with pride, crossing his arms across his chest.

You're aware of how much he tries to impress you.

And sometimes it works, but you try not to let him know.

As you eat, he slowly inches his hand towards yours, and slips it on top. But you slip it out, saying, "I reckon friends don't typically do that for no reason, huh, Héctor?" You grin teasingly, rolling your eyes.

He laughs, his cheeks reddening a bit. "Whatever."

You continue eating, and talking, just about life. There's a lot of teasing between you two that you're not ready to admit is flirting.

You've trained your mind to only think about Héctor when he's in front of you, because otherwise, you'd find yourself falling for a seventeen-year-old, and you simply will not let that happen.

You and some of Héctor's other friends are on the beach, playing an epic sand volleyball tournament by the lovely expanse of cool light blue water.

Of course, Héctor made sure to be on the same team as you.

Your long hair has grains of sand in it, and your knees are a little red, but you don't care. You're having the time of your life.

When you take off your tank top in the heat so you're just wearing your swim top, you catch Héctor's eye and snap. "Hey, buddy! Keep your focus! It's your serve!"

He blushes and looks away, before serving.

It's quite a bad serve, and goes straight into the grass on the other end of the net.

You catch his eyes and teasingly stick out your tongue as he argues, "We're on the same team!" with a little laugh.

But then, you run for the ball a few volleys later, slide, hit it up, but have a little tumble, gently hit your head on the pole that holds up the volleyball net, and up laying on your back, staring up at the blue sky, eyes glazed over in confusion.

But only for a moment, before Hector's concerned eyes come into view. Immediately he's there, kneeling by you. "Are you okay?" he asks, putting his hand on your arm.

"Yeah... yeah, I am. I think so..." You feel a bit of a sting below your hairline on your forehead, so you drag your hand over it, and stare in horror when you bring your hand back down to see it covered in blood.

You scream.

"Hey, hey... Looks just like a gash," Héctor says immediately in a soothing tone, giving your arm a little rub. "Come on." He hold his hand out to you to help you up. "I'll help you clean it up in the bathroom."

"Should we keep playing without you guys?" one of Héctor's friends calls as you walk with him toward the bathroom slowly, kind of in a daze.

"Yeah!" Héctor calls back. "We'll be back in a few."

When in the bathroom, you immediately rinse your hand as Héctor begins gently wiping up your forehead, asking gently, "Does it hurt a lot...?"

"No..." you say softly, looking at yourself in the mirror. "Just a little sting... It was just the blood, I think..."

He nods. "The shock of seeing all that blood."

"Right. Exactly," you say with a shaky sigh.

"Just looks like a cut that's bleeding a lot. You'll be a okay," he reassures, and although you could have just told yourself that, it's nice to have someone else saying it. "Just need it to stop bleeding as much, and then we can go back, and I'll get you a Band-Aid for it."

"You thought to bring Band-Aids?" you ask, surprised.

"I somehow remembered, yeah," he chuckles. But then his cheeks redden as he adds, "I mean, it's good I did, in the end. That way, I can take care of you..." His hand gently strokes your arm.

"Shut up, Héctor," you respond, looking away from him in the mirror to shield him from seeing the stupid pinkness on your cheeks. "You realize I could have taken care of myself just fine. I don't need a seventeen-year-old taking care of me."

"Sure," he grins, "but one did, regardless."

You sigh and roll your eyes as he continues to dab at your cut. Once the bleeding has stopped enough to not be dripping blood, he takes your hand and leads you out of the bathroom, saying, "I'll seal this up with a Band-Aid now."

You almost forget to slip your hand back out of his.

When you reach the beach chairs, where the Band-Aids Héctor brought will be, he gently urges you to sit down. You do so, and he kneels in front of you, looking into your eyes. He brushes some hair off your forehead gently, away from the wound, before putting the Band-Aid on it, saying, "There you go! All better." He gives your bare thigh a little pat, which makes your face heat up.

"Héctor, keep your hands to yourself," you say rudely, but he doesn't take offense, and just continues, "Feel better enough to keep playing?"

You nod and stand up with him, walking toward the volleyball court again.

Héctor had a bunch of friends over for his birthday.

Eighteen.

It leaves you with some questions.

He's older, now.

Legally, an adult.

And clearly Héctor has some questions, too, because for a moment, he whispers in your ear, "Will you be able to stay a little longer? After everyone else has left?"

You blink a few times, and can't help but blush. "That's fine. We can do that."

He nods, looking relieved. "Alright. Good. Let's do that."

So later, after a fun couple of hours, you watch the last of Héctor's friends leave.

So only the two of you remain.

He gently takes your hand, and you sit down on the couch together. "So," he begins. "I'm eighteen. I'm an adult now."

You nod slowly. "You are. Look at how much you've grown up," you tease, grinning.

He squeezes your hand. You stare at the two hands, connected. He smiles a bit, saying, "You've had all these months, of really getting to know me."

"I know," you smile. "And I think I like you."

He nods. "Enough...?"

"Enough for what?"

"I know I'm so much younger than you. But think about it. Now I'm eighteen. Eighteen and twenty-one is fine. I mean, Vitor's wife is older than him! He's eighteen!"

You smile softly. "Yeah, that's a good point."

"So?"

"So what?" you grin.

"Would you date me now?"

"Maybe I would," you say softly, feeling butterflies a little.

He grins wider. "Come on. Just say it. I know you like me back."

"Sure, Héctor," you roll your eyes. "I like you back."

He grins, and suddenly hugs you tightly- not what you were expecting, but you didn't know what to expect. "Oh, thank goodness," he mutters. "I've been waiting to hear you say that for months..."

You grin and hug him tighter back, "Yeah, yeah," you say, ruffling his hair. "I'm sure you have been."

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septembercfawkes · 3 months

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Circling vs. Zigzagging Conflicts

Nearly every writer understands that a story needs conflict. The protagonist sets off to fulfill a goal, runs into an antagonistic force, and their struggle creates conflict. This should happen in the story as a whole, this should happen in acts, and it should happen in almost every scene--the difference is that the smaller the structural unit, the smaller the antagonist and conflict (simplistically speaking).

Today I want to talk about a sneaky problem I sometimes see when editing manuscripts, one that relates to conflicts.

Sometimes the writer simply “circles” the conflict.

What I mean is that after a given conflict, nothing has actually changed in the story. We just completed a “circle.”

For example, say the protagonist is a favorite target of the schoolyard bully. They get into a verbal fight, but when it's over, nothing's different. The conflict didn't have any consequences.

It may not sound that bad.

And if it only happens once in a while, and there are enough other conflicts going on, it may not be.

But if this happens repeatedly or this is the main conflict, the plot isn't progressing. It just did a circle and the characters ended up in the same situation they were before the encounter. Essentially, no matter how exciting the scene may seem to be, you could still cut it and the story would be the same.

Let's look at an even less obvious example.

The protagonist needs to get Object X from Character B.

The protagonist finds a way to successfully steal it.

But then immediately afterward, Character B steals it back.

The scene ends, and the protagonist is back at square one.

It doesn't sound that bad, does it?

And if it only happens once in a while, and there are enough other conflicts going on, it may not be.

But if this sort of thing happens repeatedly--over and over and over--the plot isn't progressing. You're just going back and forth and back and forth and back and forth. And if we just arc that path a bit, guess what? It creates a circle.

Another example:

The protagonist has a problem.

But she's not taking action to solve the problem.

Yes, she reacts emotionally to the problem.

She may even sometimes come up with a plan for how to try to solve the problem.

But she doesn't execute it. Or, some other problem comes up that keeps her from executing it.

And rather than come up with and execute a new plan to address that problem.

She just reacts emotionally to the problem.

Imagine this going on for multiple scenes.

The plot isn't progressing. She's just ruminating.

It still feels like the text is just circling the conflict.

Please know I'm not saying a story can never do these things. On rare occasions, circling conflicts can be useful, like when the point is to show the audience how some things don't change. My first example may arguably work near the beginning of the story, to show what the protagonist's day-to-day life is like. My second example can sometimes work as a frustrating irony. And my last example, well . . . don't do my last example. Okay, okay, maybe it could work to show off how the protagonist is incapable of or has the flaw of never moving forward (and chances are it'd probably be better to illustrate that through summary, rather than scene).

And some degree of circling can work, when the story needs to end with the characters and world in the same place they started, like in a serial, but note that usually through the installment, there isn't much circling.

And often, even if the external circumstances complete a circle, the journey changed the character internally in some significant way.

BUT if you are repeatedly writing examples like those above, where the situation at the end of a scene or act is essentially the same as it was at the beginning of the scene or act, then you aren't moving the story forward.

Sure, conflict may show up on the page, but the text is just circling it.

Instead, it's much more effective to create a zigzag.

If we wanted to keep this super simple, we might say the scene (or act) needs to move from a positive situation to a negative situation, or a negative situation to a positive situation. Or, a positive situation to a better situation, or a negative situation to a worse situation. Essentially:

+ --> -

- --> +

+ --> ++

- --> --

This is a good starting point, but I admit, it sometimes feels oversimplified to me.

In any case, the situation the character is in, has changed.

The story didn't do a circle. It did a zigzag (or zigzigger or zagzagger).

The protagonist had a goal, encountered an antagonist, had a conflict, and the conflict came to a definitive outcome (if only on the small scale for that scene). It hit a climax or turning point.

And that outcome carries consequences.

The protagonist gets in an argument with the bully and gets suspended for his language. If he's suspended, his parents will ground him, and he won't get to go on an upcoming date with his crush. It's a setback.

Character B steals Object X back and in the process, mortally wounds the protagonist. Now the protagonist needs to get help before they die.

The protagonist takes action to solve the new problem, and not only succeeds, but manages to solve her original problem at the same time.

But often just adding consequences isn't enough. We need to make sure the consequences aren't or can't be undone, at least not easily or coincidentally. We don't have the protagonist's dad have a serendipitous change of heart and simply allow the protagonist to go on the date.

Don't undo what you just did (generally speaking).

If the protagonist ended with a bigger or new problem, make him put in the effort to try to solve it. (See the "No, and . . ." vs. "Yes, but . . . " rule under "Disaster.")

And don't forget my "acid test" for plot progression. At the end of the scene (or act), ask, did the protagonist's current goal and/or plan shift? If the answer is no, chances are you did a circle. (Or you at least left things stagnating). If the answer is yes, something changed.

As I mentioned above, sometimes the change is internal.

Maybe Character B did simply steal Object X back, but maybe that leads to the protagonist realizing he doesn't want Object X as much as he wants revenge on Character B. He hatches a plan to exact that.

While that may not be as strong as the protagonist getting mortally wounded, it's better than nothing changing, and the experience does change the direction of the story.

Personally, I'd still be cautious of writing such a situation, though. In most types of stories, we want consequences to be both internal and external.

But that topic could be another post.

So in closing: zigzagging conflicts is better than circling them.

Adieu.

#Writeblr #let's write #writing tips and tricks #writing tips #writers on tumblr #writing #writing tip #writing advice #writing reference #writing help #writer

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niftukkun · 20 days

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fanart for a scene in @nerdydowntherabbithole 's Taking Life As Is on AO3 !! a scene early on in the fanfic that sounded so cool it gripped me with inspiration, where a vulture swoops down and gets fucking got by a leviathan while our dear protagonists look on in horror of the beautiful brutality of mother nature happening right in front of them! dont you love it when you leave your rotting corpse behind and immediately get hit with the existential horror of almost dying and the primal fear of seeing something that much bigger than you and realising your fragility when you were once a godlike being above such lowly thoughts and struggles? anyway.

some details and thoughts !! :

-just before this scene, sugar (survivor's name in this fic) hunted and ate a salamander, so i included it in this here drawin too !! hell yeah esoteric fic-accurate details -(pro tip for any artists out there; if you want to push something into the background, gradient overlays are your friend. also, dont forget to check your values. outline your characters if they aren't popping out of the background enough) -in other, not fic-accurate detail,, moon's dress and marks. i think in the fic, moon's dress is more like,, an actual dress with sleeves and such. but also like, i do what i want and i want something thats barely a dress so i can show off my anatomy/mechanical bits art skills. i dont care if its not canon compliant im calling rule of cool -whoops i forgor the wires uhh shit nevermind it would cover the cool bits anyway whatever -also, while i am proud of the vulture and leviathan, they both used reference. like, i sketched them out yeah, but also the sketch was mostly done by staring at a reference the whole time and overlaying it on the canvas as needed when the drawing looked a little too off. so if you look at this and think 'aw man this guys too good at drawing i could never draw a vulture/leviathan/background/whateverthefuck like that' youre wrong. use references and get better at art by referencing references -shoutout to the miraheze wiki btw for supplying most of my references for this. fandom wiki could never

this fic holds a special place in my heart. like, i dont agree with it on a lot of things (how the cycle works, time between slugcat campaigns, how rot works, etc), but its very internally consistent and i like how all the characters are written. i really do like how, despite all the bickering, the iterators really do care for each other and love each other. i like that the blame isn't pushed just to pebbles, the acknowledgement of there being a lot of nuance and complications in the whole situation. i like the worldbuilding, nsh's wetland-esque biome, srs's gleaming glass beaches, the different interesting fauna/flora, slugcat society worldbuilding, the fucking trains hell yes trains.

most of all though, i love the authors dedication to getting a happy ending. no one left behind. all the iterators in the local group are getting freed (except for innocence but thats a different thing) all the slugcats are alive and doing well (even artificer's kids!!). and even though the fic throws the characters around, bad things happen, steps backward are taken,,, there is almost a palatable message that no matter what, things will be okay. artificer did bad and its acknowledged with visible consequences (scavenger temple route, which mightve made things so much easier on the route to nsh) but she still gets her kids back. hunter had her rot cured and even got some sick new upgrades but still struggles with overexertion and moments of weakness. both pebbles and moon have ptsd from the rot and the rain respectively and its handled reasonably well, not even mentioning the survivors guilt and learned helplessness on nsh and the whole,, guilt from causing this whole fiasco and the feeling of it being all their fault from srs,,,, , ,,,

i dont know. i just really like how dedicated the fic is to showing the realistic consequences of the unforgiving and brutal world of rain world and weaving it into a story of forgiveness and freedom. there are struggles but the heroes will still win and get to go home happy. its cathartic. i love it a lot.

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izzysillyhandsy · 8 months

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Ed-and-Izzy-related stuff that stood out for me in episodes 6 and 7:

Their quiet familiarity and mutual fondness

The main thing I wanted from S2 regarding Ed and Izzy was at least a hint of a mutual, loving relationship between the two of them in the past. The way Izzy acted around Ed in S1 made no sense to me if there wasn't a strong, very old, tried and tested bond there. Equally, Ed's behaviour around Izzy, the familiar way he called him Iz, the exasperated way he reacted to Izzy's izzyness, showed (for me) a closeness of decades living together.

Izzy's "You know me better than anyone has ever known me, and I daresay the same is true for me about you" is the truth, in my opinion. It's about the little things, all the experiences they've had together, sharing a space, food, drink (how natural did it feel when Ed took Izzy's bottle?). Everyone who's had a close friend for decades knows how that feels.

Yes, there are aspects of Ed that Stede gets and Izzy doesn't. But I always had the feeling that Ed feels like home for Izzy and vice versa. This feeling was just very well hidden in S1 because of Izzy's confusion, jealousy and resentment.

(Of course, Izzy is also in love with Ed and Ed, as of S1, isn't. But the (platonic) love, friendship and fondness underlying everything is tangible.)

2. Together, they've got this "us against the world" vibe

One of my favourite headcanons is young Ed and Iz mutinying together, or deciding to kill someone who made their lives hell (with Iz doing the actual killing, obviously). Both learning to fight and to survive in a cruel world together.

I'm not saying this was in any way confirmed or anything (flashback scene, I'm still waiting), but the scene above with Ed looking out at the sea, Izzy who can't take his eyes off him... they seem so attuned to each other. "Where you go, I'll follow."

I know this isn't the most coherent analysis, I'm struggling to describe the feeling I got when watching this scene.

It was like yes, they've fought their way up together. Even after everything that happened, put them next to each other on a ship and they just fit. If they wanted to, they could do anything.

(In a way, it's such a pity Ed doesn't want to be a pirate anymore, at least not a scary Blackbeardy one. Those two have a look going.)

3. Izzy and Ed both connect Izzy's love declaration to Ed shooting him

"You know what he did when I told him I loved him?" "He shot me." "He shot you, yeah." "I know."

This is not 100% clear cut, but to me Izzy's delivery very strongly infers that Izzy didn't know Stede knew (and didn't tell him).

Which means that ED TOLD STEDE.

If that's the case, then

Izzy, at some point, realized that Ed shooting him wasn't (all) about him reminding Ed of Stede

Izzy has a better grasp on Ed's inner struggles than previously assumed

Izzy and Ed both see this declaration as important enough that Ed would permanently injure and eventually kill Izzy for it and Izzy and Stede are both like "yeah, figures"

Ed himself knows and admits that him shooting Izzy was about Izzy (still) loving him in that moment

I mean, I'm still shocked about that.

There were a lot of great metas about Ed's motivations after Ep2 came out, and some of them suggested exactly this: that Ed wanted to be an unloveable monster, that this was the only way he could deal with what he'd done, and Izzy's love was standing in the way of his grand self-destruction.

I wasn't prepared for Izzy, Stede and probably Ed being concious of that and kinda offhandedly acknowledging it in the show?

And even if it wasn't Ed but Izzy who told Stede (which I don't believe, but it's possible) - it's still crazy.

Izzy matter-of-factly telling Stede "Yeah, Ed shot me because I told him I loved him" and Stede being like "Yeah, of course, that's our Ed <3" is mind-blowing to me.

4. Izzy's love song

The lyrics at this exact moment:

Il me l'a dit, l'a juré pour la vie. - He told me, he swore to me, for life.

He really means it. They're married. I rest my case.

5. The first kill's always a mindfuck

So, I have this persistent obsession about Izzy being Ed's personal henchman, and Ed "outsourcing the big job" Teach resenting him for it.

In that respect, Ed's reaction to Stede's first kill was very interesting.

It probably wasn't like that in the beginning, but Ed seems to be a bit of a hypocrite when it comes to violence. Izzy is irrevocably tainted, but I think he wants to keep Stede "pure" (he didn't mind when Stede torched the ship, but that's the hypocrisy in action).

This is of course totally my headcanon, but I think Izzy's first kill was significant. I think Iz did it for Ed. And I think it was very difficult for him (either because Izzy-the-artsy-outsider was actually quite sensitive and nowhere near a bloodthirsty killer and/or because he cared about the person he killed). But Ed was so impressed, and so thankful, so he just carried on doing Ed's dirty work and it changed him forever :(

6. Ed's apology

This whole scene.

Scowly face. Mopey twat. Oh, look, you're talking to me again.

The way they're saying it, Izzy's expressions, their body language - it feels so incredibly intimate. From this exchange alone I would bet they were lovers at some point.

Iz bringing the bottle as a cover and excuse and Ed understanding and playing along.

Ed's "Sorryboutyourleg" being the exact opposite of his public "apology".

I almost cried (like Iz) 😢

CONCLUSION: Why is there only one episode left I need more of this!!!

Also: IZZY LIVES <3

#ofmd #ofmd s2 spoilers #izzy hands #edward teach #stede bonnet #ofmd meta #is this meta - not really #I need an Ed&Izzy the early years spin-off #those 2 have an intensity together it's incredible

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shuenkio · 29 days

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"Enhypen"

Red string with you˚⊹ ᰔ

Paring: Enha X m!reader

Genre: fluff, emotion, love

Red string theory

Do not copy my works (⁠ ⁠˘⁠ ⁠³⁠˘⁠)⁠♥

CRD to all divider

Some parts are overdo words ༎ຶ⁠‿⁠༎ຶ

Heeseung: Living a life as a musician he is, are sure lonely, all alone because he spends all his time every single day in the studio, morning to noon, noon to night, night to midnight, recycling over and over again. One day, when going to the party with his friends, they brought up the love topic and asked him if he had a partner like them, they had been waiting for him to have a romantic life forever yet the man still had no one. He got the look, got money, got everything, just like everyone's dream of. He just responds with a slow nod, he also waiting for some perfect time to have someone by his side however it's like the more he's waiting, the longer it gets. Once the party's over, he waves goodbye to his friends before making his way back home by walking since his apartment is not too far, he chooses to take a nice walk under the snowy rain. The walk seemed so pleasant and cold watching the snowflakes fall above him, making him realize a lot of things he never did before. As he keeps moving his feet zoning out, unexpectedly he bumps into a person who's also lost in their world. Both of them fall to the ground, gathering all their consciousness back before opening their eyes to see you intend your arm open to give them support.

"H-hey sorry to bump into you, are you alright?" He looks at you who's standing on top of him, along with a light street behind you hitting your back, making you look unreal and breathtaking. suddenly he feels like the world has stopped moving when you look at him, you're like someone that God sent to him, his heartbeat does a backflip. "You're the one... For me, I feel it"

Jay: The same goes with him. money? Millions. Look? Hot. Car and house? Check ✓ love? Loading. Born in such a wealthy family, when you seek real love would be a different story. Yes, you can have all the love you want with money, but money can't buy such thing as true love isn't it? It's required your efforts, sweat and tears to get "true love". On the way to his office, with his luxury business bag, an elevator, was about to close suddenly you appeared and quickly waved your hand as a signal for him to stop it for you. Once you enter, you thank him before standing beside him. The moment you make eye contact with him, he feels like his heart telling him you're the missing pieces he had been searching for all along, must make him, his!! "Be my boyfriend!!!" M/n answer "Pardon?" [Too short sorry shawty]

Jake: As the outgoing person he is, he knows what's best for himself and he doesn't need nobody telling him what he needs but as time forward, all his love leaves him for good with the only one reason "looks " Then he realizes they only love him for a short time because of his looks, they got bored with him. Is he just showing his true self? Why is it so hard for him to find someone suitable for him, who's made just for him? God loved giving a hard time, didn't he? Bar! It's the only place they understood him the most. He went to the bar and took a lot of shots, giving himself to the alcohol but no matter how much he drank, he was still sober just a slightly hot throat. You then also came to the bar, and it's happened to sit next to him since all the seats are all pack. You're also ordering the same drink as him too which makes him want to talk to you. Both of you are talking, and giggles how similar your life is before he said "Let's write our story into a better plot together, shall we? I know you're that person who can make my day brighter, I don't care about society against us, we can fight it aren't we?"

Sunghoon: He had some dark past with love. It's not his fault that he was an introvert, loved his comfort zone, used a cold tone whenever talking, and didn't like skin ship much. This is the reason why most people leave him too for their good he is cold, and can't bear him anymore. After all his ugly memory he started to become more heartless, even colder than before, and won't give a chance to anybody again. He's now a single young adult, living his life peacefully. However, the more he cut ties with people, the more isolated he felt. He needed someone, he needed somebody who could be here with him, accept for who he was, someone who was the same way as him. Ultimately he went to relax at his comfort place, the ice rink. As he moves his feet forward, his hand tucked inside his pocket, Out of the blue, You run into him, to your skating shoe won't stop moving as a result of a fall onto the top of him. Embarrassed, your hands are on his chest, you quickly get up and are about to apologize therefore he grips your body tight, and won't let go yet before asking. "I feel like we know each other before, have we?" Blushing, you said no. He continues "No, I mean... For real you're the person who always appears in my dream!!"

Sunoo: The social butterfly, there he goes again, making friends even when he was on the way to work, on the way home, whenever he saw someone he'd ask them how was their day, are they were okay, are they doing well, if they need something just tell him. He's perfect, not to mention that everyone had their flaws but for him, it's almost perfect from head to toe, he had friends, family, socialized well, didn't fear no one, and liked to speak what was on his mind, kind, and everyone's definitely like him. One thing he's lacking is love, he's always giving everyone his love, and comfort words, for everyone's needs but did his love return to him? No. Sometimes he questions himself is he worth it? Did all his hard work pay off? He knows only very few like him for how happy he is, and not his true self. Little did they know he was craving for attention and love back. Consequently, God answered his prayer. Holiday arrived, and when he was cleaning his room, he heard someone knocking on his apartment's door. He went to open it and revealed you checking the room number. He greets you with his bright smile before taking you in(roommate). Day after day, both of him and you become more comfortable with each other, and feel just right when together. And surprisingly he confesses his feeling to you. "I want to start my life with you M/N! The moment you came in I felt like a string had been connected, you are my home, my everything now, please accept this love of mine"

Jungwon: He's fine, he's ok, everything is alright, that's what he said to everyone concerned about him. He doesn't need anything, even love or he's just denying it? He might not need someone at the moment but surely fate will bring him someone whom, he never knew he needed before. he likes to take care of people surrounding him while taking all their worry and weight on his shoulders, alone. And now he said he doesn't need someone to take care of him when he has this kind of idiot thinking, put others before himself. As a result, fate plans to give him someone worthy of him. In a normal day of practicing taekwondo, when he went back home, earphones plugged inside his ear, without notice, someone bumped into him and spilled a drop of coffee on his shirt. "Hey watch where you going dude!!-" he paused. "I- I'm so sorry let me take my napkin" You take your napkin from your pocket before wiping it for him. "you seem familiar, are you around here?" He asked "Nope, but I also feel the same way, you look like someone I knew before" as you answered his question, a biker came from a distance and was about to drive past you two before you could do anything, he grabbed your shoulder turning you around before covering all the mud that's splashing on him. Both of your eyes meet, and explore each other for a second. "Now I know what my grandma means, the red string is real"

Ni-ki: "He looks mean" "He's so intimidating", "ugh I wish you were more friendly " and "Don't date him, he won't be worth it" Those words are like a knife, that's stabbing through his chest, just for a lil of love, why it is so hard. Is it because of how he looks? But who can change their look when they are born with it? Just to please the public eye? Or just to be in relationships? Won't be worth it. Living our life to the fullest would be more worthwhile than pleasing someone, satisfying them and not yourself. Someday he feels sad, he feels happy like how human emotion works. A deep part of his heart aches a little when he sees other people happy, with their partner, laughing happily like nothing to worry about, meanwhile, he living a life with no interesting plot. He always tells himself that he doesn't need it, he has to remember what his past looks like if he ever does, it's hurt but it's even more hurt when you crave something you can't have, isn't it? One fine evening, he checked his fridge and it was empty, the boy decided to go buy some groceries and come back. On the way back home, he happened to pass by the Han River fridge and thought it'd be nice to sit and relax there for a bit. He looked around and saw someone sitting alone on a bench, he went to take a sit next to him. "Hey, can I sit here?" Ni-ki asked with, a silent response. However, when he took a closer look he saw this boy was crying when his cap covered his face. Without further more, he began to rub your back and comfort you silently without speaking a word. After some words with him, he wanted to adopt you right away. "why don't we try this out together, our story is quite the opposite but our hearts are mutual, I don't know and I don't care who you are, feeling is feeling!" He announced, hoping you would agree to him, it might sound weird but you also wanted to" you reply with your stained tears "Let's fight together!"

🗣️ please mind my English! ><

🗣️ Reblog and like is much appreciated ♥

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